"Marriage is Soul-Killing Bondage"

The reason for my hermitage on this freezing Friday evening is a big reasearch paper due tuesday. Luckily, however, I am writing it on undoubtedly THE most BADASS woman of the century (19th or 20th, take your pick): Emma Goldman. And get this:






Familiar looking?

Wait, There's English on the MCAT?

It has not so recently come to my attention that I blog a shit ton more than everyone else here, but I never quite figured out why. I am aware that about 1/3 of my posts are/have been crappy emotional drivel, but even if you factor out that the ratio of my blogging to any one else on our little island* still stands strong. is it that, despite having a comparable lifestyle to anyone else here and just as little free time, I just think up more things that are blogworthy? Or is my definition of blogworthy just incredibly low?

Answers. Please.



*I say island because almost everyone who reads this blog has their own blog that is linked to it, as well as to the other readers' blogs, but to very few other places. The result of this is a small, intertwined network of blogs that I tend to imagine like a scarcely populated Island in the middle of the great ocean of the Blogosphere. I've actually spent some time clicking the ambigous "next blog" button on the top bar in hopes of finding yet another little colony similar to ours, but to no avail. (If i did have some sucess, it was either in a foreign language, or chronicaling the incredibly uninteresting lives of some group of devout religious families. Obviously not nearly as cool as us.)

Take That, Bitchy English Teacher

My old highschool advisor was interviewing an alum's kid for admission the other day. The alum remarked that the school nolonger had Sunday Chapel, and before my advisor chimed in to tell the story, he said...

"Yeah, I heard some kid wrote an essay and pursuaded the headmaster"


I am an urban legend. My life = complete.

On The Bright Side, I Now Own The Most Pimpin' Bathrobe Ever

It must be said-19 is a pretty insignificant birthday. Right before it there's the epic 18- legal adulthood in most cases, plus cigarettes, porn, and lotto tickets. Right after it there's twenty- no longer a teenager by any definition, and an age that starts with a two, signalling a whole two decades of existance. But what is 19 good for? Well, it's a prime number, and you can drink in some parts of Canada. Now everyone loves Canada, but is anyone really bothered about it? no.

It's Not Over Until You've Peed In The Woods

Ladies and gentlemen, let me show you just how committed I am to this country:


October 31st, 2008 (3 Buisness days until Election Day)

4:15 pm- Juicy finishes up researching and finalizes her ballot.

4:25 pm- Juicy arrives at the campus post office, finding it closed and lacking stamps.

4:30 pm- The time the campus post office was supposed to remain open till (grunt)

4:35- Juicy, deeply fearing her ballot might not reach the homestate in time for election day, thus further enabling a victory of the evil Sarah Palin (that's pronounced PAY-lin by the way. No, really, if she can tell me whether or not I can keep my own baby I can tell her how to pronounce her own last name) starts walking downtown.

4:40 pm- Juicy catches a bus taking her to the central post office in her town. (hopefully open later)

4:45-past 5pm - Time spent by local post office employee chatting it up with a customer after he had processed her package in under a fifth of that time. Not to be a bitch and break up the earlybird lovefest over there, but seriously...at least get a room that's not federally owned.

4:50 Time juicy, thanks to another more efficient post office worker, gets to the counter and purchases stamps.

4:52 pm- Juicy votes (for the first time, ever!), just making the last wave of outgoing mail.

Fucking Women's College. Correction: Not Fucking Anyone Because of Women's College.

NB: The women's college I go to is in close proximity to another (incredibly inferior) one. Let's call my school VW (Vagina World) and that school WIWVW (Wishes It Was Vagina World).



Juicy: "Wait, I thought it was WIWVW to bed and VW to wed?"


Friend: "Oh No, it's VW to bed WIWVW to wed."


Juicy: "Really?" [This has since been confirmed by the internet]


Friend: "Oh yeah, we're the FUN ones. Do you see the Harvard Squash team going to WIWVW to get body parts signed there? No."


Juicy: "Good point..."




A Little History:

Apparently, the expression has its origins back in the 50s as a saying used by Harvard boys to tell us apart: that VW girls were more likely to go skinny dipping and match you shot for shot while WIWVW girls wore collared shirts, played tennis, and were the kind of girls you could take home to mom. Having reflected on the origins of this stereotype for about, oh, half a minute, I am now totally OK with this....(Still working on the whole 'Militant Lesbian' thing though)




Indeed, Efforts must be doubled.

Irkings

1. Steampunk. Really now, it's uber specific and kind of ridiculous...And no, you can't go around adding "punk" to anything just because you want to feel badass. It just doesn't work like that.

2. xkcd. Obviously an awesome comic drafted by God himself, but seems to be going a little downhill latley. Then again, I suppose there is only a limited number of truly hillarious science/technology comics one can craft. (Maybe I should send him some good chem ones? It is one thing he hasn't done a lot of...)


3. Shia LaBeouf's barely-there, landing strip of a moustache. Like facial hair is going to make us forget that you are and will always be that lovable little boy from Even Stevens on the Disney Channel. Ironically enough, this so obvious attempt at machismo actually gives us a far more realistic look at Middle School. Really, how old are we now?


4. Autumn. People flock from all over to see our pretty autumn leaves change colors. What they don't realize, however, is that they are actually flocking to observe a slow, mass death. Really, autumn is the one season inwhich you are surrounded by death. Not winter, as one might think, because in Winter everything is already dead. All is snowy, and white, and surreal like the afterlife. But autumn is just the pure act and essence of dying with no before and no after. Ponder it.


5. You. Yes, I really mean you (yourself specifically). For almost two weeks you allowed this poor little blog to sit and wallow in cinematic, Bridget-Jones-esque self-pity, when in actuality sitemeter was broken. Thought it be funny did you? Only funny when someone gets hurt? Well shame on you! Worthless Mango Addict you are, but it won't get to me. At least now I see how it really is...

Hello Seattle, I'm Listening...

To contine with the theme of the former post, here's a several minute clip that essentially sums up the state of my personal life (and apparently, this blog) at the moment. Enjoy.

Confession

Ok, Mango Addicts (what few are left, at least), I have a confession to make....I've been spying on you. Ever since a few months ago, I got a nifty little tool called "sitemeter." Not to creep you out or anything, just because I was curious. So please don't be too alarmed when I tell you that I know every hit this site gets, the IP address it comes from, the town/state/province it comes from, what linked them here in the first place, and how long they stayed. Really, it's not so big a deal and in no way deteriorates upon your personal safety. Since we are a small blog, we really cherish every little hit this site gets. Even the random ones from bizzare countries because someone was googling "mango flavored marajuana" or "mango morning after" or some other similarly silly combination of words. (not that that's bad, remember what your preK teacher taught you? There is no such thing as a stupid google search)



So why let this little indiscretion slip now? Well, for the past few months this site has had a steady influx of daily, or at least every-couple-days-ly hits. infact, the number (much to our delight here at MFA) seemed to be rising. That is, until this week. Observe:









For the first time since ever, this blog has been just sitting alone in cyberspace for an entire week. OK, Where did everyone go? Was there some seven-day long party in Blogosphere that I wasn't invited to? Was the makeover really that abhorring? I don't care what you say, I'm sorry but there is no way you're simply that cool or that busy.



Hopefully this is but an irregular, circumstantial glitch in the way the world should be. (That, or everyone is just counting on atom feeders to check this blog for them...bums). But I fear it may not be. Indeed, this may be (*grimace*) the beginning of the (*shudder*) end of blog culture; and dare I say, our entire little section of the Blogosphere.



We don't know what the future holds at this point, but let me just say this one thing: Regardless, we had a damn good run.

It Could Be Worse, You Could live in NJ...

So here it is...the long awaited and much needed make-over. (Because this blog truly was 'just about as yellow as it gets'). Thank the people at blogger for finally developing a template tool for those of us who lack both the skill and patience to perfect their hex codes. Enjoy.























It's Happenning....December 2008.

Can I Get That In Pink?

So I was procrastinating my homework (as usual) and came across an AOL article (slideshow, really. Go watered-down American media!) of unusual and award winning homes. It was then when I saw this baby:

This is Jayne Mansfield's "Pink Palace" and the official inspiration for my future residence. You can now see why I felt an immidiate, intimate, dare I say Nexusy connection with the building:

It was truly, as Jayne described it, "a heart-shaped house with a heart-shaped pool." To decorate the house, Jayne wrote to over a thousand individual furniture dealers asking for free samples, and offering in return the right to brag that their wares were in her "outlandish mansion." (Something I so would do, and Nexusy connection #2) I was just wondering how much I would have to make a year in some obnoxious oh-so-not-for-puiblic-interest lawfirm to attempt to buy this baby when learned (to the sound of my heart breaking, and a slight sigh of relief for my future serving the public good) that it was demolished....on my 13th birthday (Nexusy connection #3). And if all this does not go to show that I am clearly the reincarnation of Mrs. Jayne Mansfield herself, here is a picture of her:

(Nexusy connections 4 and 5) Perhaps anatomy and personal taste are somehow obscurly linked?

Oh, and Juicy fact: Her daughter plays Olivia Benson on Law&Order (Nexusy connection#6)

Glimpsing The Future

Today on the weekly pilgrimage to Target, I was in the checkout line and noticed the woman ahead of me. She was buying around 30 (yes, I counted, 30) composition/ spiral notebooks, three large packets of Bic pens, and cat food for her six (yes, she said so, six) cats.

Nothing else.

That's pride.

Popeye = Lies

Everyday, people live their lives by a series of assumptions and "facts" that society has engrained into them over the years. "Eight hours of sleep is better for you than four," for example, and the ever famous "There are some things in life that you just need to do, whether you like it or not."

But the following is a potent reminder that just about any of these facts can be completely wrong. Never hesitate to question the authority, you might just be right after all.


Everyday, parents force spinach down the throats of disugusted, unhappy children at mealtime. When the children complain, the parent says "But honey, you need to eat spinach because it's good for you. You need all that iron to grow into a healthy grown-up!" and continues to force the vile substance down the child's throat. This leaves the child feeling violated, and the parent feeling guilty, but knowing that they are doing what is right for their child.

Or are they? Children, the time has come to rise against your elders. They are incorrect, and you need suffer no longer. Next time you are forced to swallow mouthful after mouthful of abhorrent green abomination, retalliate with the truth. Retaliate with this:

"Actually, the kind of Iron in spinach is inorganic, and it's physically impossible for our bodies to absorb any more than a mere tenth of it, even with a huge amount of Vitamin C to aid the absorption process. That's the same Iron content as most other vegetables, and even less than others."

If you're parents haven't already had their minds blown with the sheer power of that statement (and their child's excellent knowledge of college level Biochemistry which clearly exceeds their own), and in return say something like "You should still eat your Spinach because of all the other healthy vitamins and minerals in it!" then tell them this:

"It is true that Spinach will give you around half of your daily dose of a few types of B vitamins, which is impressive compared to some other vegetables (broccoli especially. I should note here that broccolli only contains trace amounts of any vitamin or mineral and could easily be susbtituted for a tastier necessity.) but there are far more efficient ways to get it. Carrots actually contain double the B vitamins of spinach, along with other nutrients, and taste far better when served caramelized with sugar. To make spinach an even less admirable sounding option, one should add that spinach actually contains over %400 of your daily dose of Vitamin K. Think that sounds healthy? Wrong. Vitamin K is fat soluble, not water soluble. This means that if you exceed the daily dose then your body cannot easily excrete the rest, so it becomes stored in the body's fatty tissue. Regularly exceeding the reccomended dosage by 2-3 times the normal amount (which spinach clearly does) can actually lead to health problems later in life."


What's that? Did I just say that Spinach could be considered less healthy than other vegetables? Why yes, yes I did. Now go on, children, take that which I have given you and set out into the world to spread the glories of truth and freedom from the oppression of misinformed parents everywhere.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Did you like what you just read? Excellent. Because in a few weeks, the Mango is going Pro : ).

The End Of An Era

For those of you who read my blog frequently, you might be wondering what became of the Miracle that is The Most Holy Hannukah Shampoo. And the truth is, in the true fashion of holy relics past, we may never know.


For those of you not so informed, here is the story: In April of 2007, JV was sent on an excursion to the grocery store to procure for me some daily necessities that I myself could not get ahold of. Not much attention was paid to these products at first (snack foods, beverages, hair and body care) but as time continued I observed a strange phennomenon. While the food was eaten up, the conditioner and body wash was used up, and the shower puff slowly disintegrated, the shampoo remained. An epic 3/4 of a year later, the shampoo was still fully intact. As of that moment, we realized that this was no ordinary shampoo- but a holy relic that, despite already lasting longer than any hair care product I have ever used so much of on such a regular basis, still had magical powers of longevity. It was then when we first wondered just how long this shampoo would last, and for how long we would witness this great miracle: The Miracle of the Hannukah Shampoo.



And as I said, following in the footsteps of great holy relics before it, we may never really know. For any of those hoping, in years to come, to form a gang of theologians, archaologists, explorers, and anthropolgists in order to quest for the lost Grail of the millenium (or for those simply curious), here is what scripture tells us:




"The Shampoo lasted, for certain, for a most incredible and holy six months after it was first recognized in all its true glory. That's one year and four months of miraculous existance. After that the shampoo was left almost unused for five weeks due to a necessary migration, but still performed its miraculous powers in the rare instances when it was ecalled upon. Once the migratory period had ended, it is very possible that the Shampoo could have continued in faithful miraculous service, as it did for at least a week after the Great Returning. But we will never know. We will never know because the Shampoo was betrayed. And yes ladies and gentleman, I, Juicy, am the cursed betrayor. While packing for another Great Migration, I questioned my faith. I packed not only the Most Holy Hannukah Shampoo, but another bottle, fearing the magic might cease soon. While unpacking my mother, as much the Eve of our time as I the Judas, asked of me "Why on earth did you pack two containers of shampoo, one of which looks to be nearly empty?" and my most unholy, lazy self was not willing to affirm my faith. I felt ridiculous attempting to preach the Word, as I should have done. Instead I replied in indifference and in lies ("I dunno") and the Most Holy Shampoo has not been seen since..."





Perhaps it lives on? Perhaps somewhere in the holy nooks and crannies of my room it continues in secret hiding, waiting for the great Ressurection, for the day when it will once again grace our lives with its holy existance? After all, it was never seen in my garbage can. But maybe it does not? Maybe it was disposed of far before I realized just what a great, cosmological crime I had comitted? And if it was never disposed of in such a shameful, disrespectful manner, how long would it have lasted? As you can see, from here on my friends, it is truly, more than ever, a question of Faith.


But for now, let us take a moment to celebrate this Most Holy Relic and its miraculous run, which lasted, even at its least, almost a year and a half. And of course, let us pray that some day I can be forgiven for my most abominable sin. And as those who cursed against the powers above in the Old Testament were marked with a mark of sin, I too have been marked. Indeed, because of this mark, I shall never again know the joys of the Miraculous Hannukah Shampoo, as I myself must now start on new type of cleansing... *



*... cleansing for color treated hair :D

A Trip To The Zoo

Possibly the best thing you can see on a syllabus:


"Tests: 3 midterms (40-50 mutiple choice questions, in class) + final. Grading is based strictly on test scores, no curves. Typically (but not always) >80= A and ~65%= B.

Text: There is no assigned reading, but it helps to read the related material in the text which will be indicated."


What have I been doing with my life!? It's official- the Zoo is a gift from God to help students in actually challenging institutions get a break once inawhile, while learning about literally anything under the sun. Seriously, that system an even sweeter deal than pass/fail.

Let it be known, however, that 3-4 people need to drop this class to assure me a space in it, (damn premonition dream ruining my perfect plan...) and if a space that could have been mine goes to any of the three coasting, careless jocks that walked in five minutes late (or any other such characters that are probably just looking for an easy A in a science class) I will personally find out their names, hunt them down, and threaten to castrate them with a paperclip if they don't find another means of just barely graduating.

Wait, perhaps that was a little harsh...Oh well. I need this. Seriously.

Pukeage

2 sets of mechanical pencils
+
1 set of cheap mini gel pens
+
2 packages of nice, Uniball pens
+
1 package of extra .7 lead


Guess the total.....






$39.58


A curse on thy soul, Staples, A curse on thy Soul!!!

It all started when I learned I could fly. I closed my eyes to soar upward, upward, beyond the sky, beyond the universe, up even to different dimensions where the spirit realms are. When I opened my eyes I looked down, only to be dissapointed and then scared. I wasn't as high as I wanted to be, but I was sitting at the very edge of our world and it was an awfully long way down. Our world was a great black sphere, black as if it had been coated in rubber. There was a wide, round tunnel through the middle that I had come up through, and on my journey from bottom to top, I had passed rows and rows of balconies that demarkated each level of the world as I approached the brightness on top. I was flying, litterally flapping my wings in place, on the top of the edge the tunnel: a huge, jagged hole in the darkness on the very top of the world that was somehow darker than the rest of the pitch black earth.

I looked around to see that it was a sunny, clear day, and the earth was floating in a shallow sea. Surrounding it, floating like buoys, were the signs of the zodiac. Each where they should be, also cast in dark rubber. There was one new sign that I had never seen before that looked like a domino, but I assumed that was the new sign that has only recently joined the elliptic. I went down to bathe in the sea, rubbing by only one or two large, elegant fish that quickly swam away (I've always been afraid of meeting fish in that manner). I flew out quickly though, for the water was much too warm. I then headed towards the shore.

On the shore, I was greeted by The Great Lion Aslan. Some other creatures and myself headed towards a graveyard, in search of some knowledge that I cannot remeber. I did however, manage to speak to a dead king through his tomb, though now all I remember is something about the number three. I was the only one who could do this. On the way back, Aslan (Who may or may not have also had wings) told me that working in the hall of mirrors was "the closest he'd ever come to prostitution" because ghosts only regularly haunt places to keep humans amused, and could be doing far more important things with their ghostly powers.

And then all of a sudden I was tumbling through the universe. No wings, instead I looked around to see I was surrounded by small, dark pointy objects. Not stars, they were more like jacks. At first I was afraid, until I realized that I was being pulled away from them...towards a black hole. A jet stream was shooting out of the other end of the black hole, so I put my hand there to see what kind of matter could possibly be shooting out the other end of a black hole, but it was too hot for my hand to even come close. I looked up through the slightly flourescent, transparent hole just in time to glimpse the event horizon, and wonder how I should escape.

I was in a living room, and so was the black hole. A small girl with hair similar to mine was swimming around it (this living room was more like a large indoor pool with rustic walls). Then we (though I'm not quite sure who else) knew what we had to do. We started swimming around in circles counter to the direction of the black hole, until the water consumed it, and both came spiralling up to the walls before they were sucked outside through a small hole in the wall. I looked out the window to see the water that had once filled the room pour out into a rocky basin right by the edge of the sea. It looked very natural, as if the process was meant to happen and the earth was simply waiting for it. Once we had finished I went up to the girl's conservative Indian parents and asked, "Wait, why did we do that?" The mother gave me a knowing look and responded "Because she would have fallen in love with it. And as parents, isn't it easier to deal with a girl who's in love with a hole in the wall, than a girl who's in love with a Black Hole?"



I then walked out of their house with my friend at my side, into the shopping mall it was attached to. Excited to buy a journal and write about my awesome dream, I woke up.

And To Think I Almost Had to Get Up at 7:30 for Orgo II and Intro Physics...

Some things in life are just so awesome, and manage to come together so perfectly in this entropically-driven world in which we all struggle to survive, that one just has to take the time to appreciate them. Ladies and gentlemen, my schedule for next semester:

Monday

10am- Awaken, Food (Yes, in an epic Phelpsian feat, Juicy will regularly eat breakfast that consists of more than coffee for the first time since...ever)

11am- 12:10 pm- "What Follows What? Valid and Invalid Reasoning" (A Logic course. Fulfill the Writing Intensive requirement and prep for the LSAT in just one class! And yes, this is my earliest class. Sexiness! I cannot possibly fuck this up.)

Afternoon- Lunch in the dorm, get ahead in work for the week/run any errands, go to the Gym (Yes! It will happen!) and maybe debate meeting.

Evening- dinner, a little more work, bed by 12 but no later than 2


Tuesdays and Thursdays

10 am- Awaken, food (Yeah, that's 10 hours of sleep if I so choose bitches)

10:40- Ride bus to institution affectionatley nicknamed "The Zoo".

11:15-12:30- "The Nature of Food" (A class combining three of my greatest loves: Chemistry, Food, and Boys. And it's only 3 credits! Organic What?)

12:30- 1:30- Lunch at said institution. Exactly how this works is still being planned, but luckily I will probably still be in the company of friends despite the socially awkward relocation.

1:30/1:35- Ride bus to insitution affectionatley nicknamed "The Tundra" (I could also lunch there if I so choose, but for now let's keep it simple)

2- 3:15- "Cosmology" (Coolest. Shit. Ever. Taught at my level, so no baby math but no multivariable calculus either, and hopefully with an equally cool and quirky professor!)

3:30- return to home insitution, affectionatley nicknamed lots of things. For now, let's use "Vagina World." Work till dinner in the dorm, then more work till bed at 12 but no later than 2.


Wednesdays and Fridays

10 am- Awaken, food

11am- 12:10- "What Follows What? Valid and Invalid Reasoning" (see Monday)

12:10-1:00- lunch in the dorm

1:10- 2:30- "History of Women in the US, 1865-Present" (Women's history at a Women's college; you really can't beat that. Plus, it counts towards my major!)

Rest of the day on Weds- work, dinner, gym (Yes! It will happen!)

Rest of the day on Fri- maybe some work, dinner, weekend.





C'mon, You know you're jelli..

Hey! Why Don't We Get Ice Cream? It's Cuz I'm Sick... Go Look At The Birds!

Hmm, so much to blog about so little will...Now Here at MFA, we appreciate our readers. Not only do we prepare awesome (well, attemptedly awesome) Annual Mango Dinners (pictures soon) but we also offer lots of little tid bits of Juicy life advice, so here goes:

1. The age of a person is indirectly proportional to the rate at which they consume alcoholic beverages. It's never failed me- dinner parties, cocktail hour, chillaxing; the younger you are, the faster you drink.

2. Here is the reason all children act like crazy, disobedient, obnoxious miscreants: cartoons. Because children ultimatly aim to please and be humorous, they imitate the crazy antics they see and find funny in cartoons. This is why they think it's funny when they kick and punch each other/you, don't listen, don't shut up, etc. etc.

3. Having to put immense effort into controlling yourself from acting on violent thoughts inspired by said children when around them for more than 5 consecutive hours is perfectly normal.

4. Knowing someone likes you and getting borderline cocky about it is fun. Knowing someone doesn't like you and wallowing in your own self-pity about it is normal. The hazy, unsure, indifferent middleground, however, totally sucks.

5. As most of you already know, I have a thing for school supplies with funky designs and bright colors. When back to school shopping, selection is always key. This year however, I finally met my match. Screw Office Max and Staples, Wal-Mart is bitchin. They must have had 3 aisles of three ring binders alone. Like a folder's design but wish it was a notebook? They've got it. Like those post-its but wish they came in a smaller size? got it. Slightly different color? Sure. Wings and an incorporated coffee maker? I didn't see one, but had I asked an employee for help I bet they could have found that too. And just when I thought there really wasn't anything left to sell:

WTF? (That's a type of wine, btw.)*

*Though maybe it's a part of a trend, since just today I saw not plain "Mint" or even "Spearmint" Altoids. Oh no, they were "Creme de Menthe"

Bug Juice and Fermentation: An Excellent Combination

In the past four websites I've visited (facebook and random blogs) three of them have talked about (or dedicated a note to) Camping. Surely this is a blogworthy event, I figured, so here we are. This all becomes truly Nexusy when I remind you all that a camping trip is being planned for this very weekend to honor this blog. (Well, partially. The other part is for some much needed Shizzy Crunkness. Sorry, Youngins, this is an 18+ event. We can hang out another time)

According to Wikipedia, Camping became popular in the early 20th century. This makes sense, of course, because that's also the time of prohibition in the US. (Coincidence? I think not) Even before then, camping was how those travelling Westward to freedom and new hopes in their humble covered wagons survived for months at a time. And since according to that logic Camping -> California and Colorado (both states on the foreground of decriminalization), clearly only good things can come of this.

So here's to Nature. Thanks, Mom, for giving people of all ages and backgrounds the oppurtunity to wait in lines or to go concerts for days on end, and attend parties so large that one house just can't sleep everyone. But most of all, Mom, thanks for giving people a legitimate excuse to get their real parents (and the rest of the world) out of their hair for awhile, and enjoy all the glories you have to offer (especially the chemical ones).

Oh, and best Wiki Link ever:

"Camping" see also: "Wilderness Diarreah"