Ode to...

Dear "Little" Brother,

Happy 15th Birthday! It is hard to believe that you are one year away from the legal age to drive. [Scary too.] I can still remember the day you were born - I was playing in the driveway with sidewalk chalk and hoping for a little sister. I decided that it was alright you were a boy when Mom first let me hold you. And now I'm so glad you were a boy. Mostly because you are a freaking awesome kid...but also because I didn't have to share clothes with anyone.

So my advice for the next year: 15 is sort of a tease of an age because you're not old enough to drive, vote, drink, buy porn or really anything fun. BUT the good part about being this age [and there is a good part, I swear] is that you have very few responsibilities. Once you drive, you have to worry about paying for gas and car repairs and you know, making sure you don't run over children or small animals. Then before you know it, you have college applications, jobs, bills, loans, obnoxious roommates....the list is endless. SO. Enjoy being 15. Enjoy doing lots of nothing while you can.

Hope you have a great birthday kiddo. I love you.

PS I sent your birthday card in the mail yesterday. So....you probably won't get it until Saturday. Sorry about that. I suck at sending out things on time.

Dear Staff of OIEE,

Today was my LAST day ever as a staff member. I cleaned out my desk, took a few items with me (like the infamous water bottle that Kat stuffed with Starburst) and said goodbye. It hasn't hit me yet that I will no longer be working there - which is probably a good thing considering I generally becoming a weepy blubbering MESS when it comes to goodbyes and endings. The finality of things coming to an end always knocks me off my feet a little bit, a small reminder that the clock is always ticking.

It could never be expressed how thankful I am for the opportunity to work with such incredible people. You have all become a second family to me - a home away from home. Thank you for all the help, advice, gentle criticism, food, FOOD and more food you have provided throughout the past year.

Erica....there aren't enough words in the English language for this goodbye. You were just my favorite person on the planet to work with. Besides being my boss, you have become such an important person in my life. It is sort of insane to me how similar we are....even though being your mini-me never quite made sense ;) I really will miss you so much. You better not tell next year's intern that she/he is your favorite.

You have all provided me with an unforgettable experience, an unparallelled sense of pride, and support in one of the most tumultous years of my life. Please know that I will take all of this with me and always be jealous of future students who get the chance to work with you all. They have no idea how freaking lucky they are. [Make sure you tell them.]

I love you all.

Hack. Cough. and Rosie.

I'm a little sick. I think. Or it could just be a sneak attack of seasonal allergies that has caused my entire head to feel all balloon-y. But whatever it is, I feel ICKy. Icky and tired. Icky, tired, and stressed because there are 3 exams and a paper standing between me and graduation. Oh that and I have to explain to my landlord (who I don't think likes me very much and shows it in well, passive agressive ways.) that I can't give her the entire rent today. What a fun conversation that will be. I can just see it now, she will smile crookedly and say ok and then I will hear her doing laundry (in the room right next to mine) at 3:00 AM. Good times.

Does anyone else think it's both amusing and sad that Rosie is leaving The View? No? Ok. Me either.

I was a big fan of Rosie back when she had her own talk show and still pretended to be straight by having a fake crush on Tom Cruise. It was no surprise when she came out of the closet and personally I think her family (3 adopted kids, 1 biological son by her partner Kelli) is an inspiration to gay couples everywhere who want a family of their own. I know she has a very big mouth and says exactly what's on her mind without fear of retribution or backlash. But in the short time that she was on The View (which, I might add, was probably the most mind-numbing daytime talk show next to the Ebert and Roper movie review show on Sunday mornings) Rosie's presence and ability to bring controversial topics to the forefront without always worrying about being politically correct was what gave the show it's huge ratings boost.

So unless they replace Rosie with Donald Trump or Rupert Murdoch himself, I don't think the show will see any continued success. [Well, what the hell do you know? Absolutely nothing. Good point.]

Anyway, I am going to go back to preparing for my exams and praying for the sweet release of death....or for these cold meds to kick in. Whatever happens first.

Grade 16

It would be an understatement to say that I am sick of school. I basically have been in school since I was a fetus and quite honestly, I'm just not sure I have another paper or midterm in me. Though my four years of college have been at times enlightening, occasionally distracting, fairly sobering (although not all spent entirely sober) and almost always hysterical, I need someone to hand me a fork. Because, dear readers, I am done in the most extreme sense of the word.

But here I sit, about to embark on yet another midterm study session, cramming half a semester's worth of information into the tired prune that is my brain. Of course, this blog is only one of many tools I have used to distract my feeble mind from getting any actual work done. In no particular order, I have: checked my myspace (twice), looked at everyone's profiles on facebook (spring break pictures are both hysterical and horrifying), checked my email, read the NY Times online, checked the weather for the weekend, written in my planner, gotten coffee, made mindless conversation with the very cute barista and her very cute girlfriend (pathetically cute couple...makes me wonder: does perfect harmony in a relationship really exist? yet another inquiry into distraction...)

You get the (very drawn out) point.

Well actually, the point is, I am 6 weeks away from finishing my senior year of college and obtaining my bachelors degree (barring a short Math class I have to take during the first summer session due to a pompous economics professor and my refusal to keep my mouth shut during his ego-boosting rants and condescending words....much longer story). More specifically, I am 6 weeks away from being able to apply for jobs that require a BA....6 weeks away from freedom from homework, from last minute stress, from resigning myself to the fact that I am in a less than rigorous academic environment and I have exhausted any excitement or passion I once had for my major.

I am worried that the fervor and thrill that I entered college with is gone forever and that I am about to enter the working world and discover that life is just a few great moments and in between a series of dullness and stability. But I am more worried that I simply do not know exactly how to get where I would like to be. I see the destination just over the horizon, but I simply have no clear path that will lead me straight there. My mother reminds me frequently that I have so much time left, more time left that I even realize, and that I need to be patient. I'm not exactly sure what she means by this - either she has concocted an immortality elixer and is planning on slipping it into my ice tea when I'm not looking...or she is attempting to bestow the wisdom that comes with age. The wisdom that almost everyone older than me has told me my whole life - Don't rush it. Life goes by fast enough.

What they fail to see is that I'm not rushing life. Life, in essence, has always rushed me. If I didn't run just slightly faster, I think it would envelop me into a chaotic universe in which I had no control, in which my life was poured out in front of me without any input whatsoever.

What the hell am I talking about?

I should get paid to rant and ramble. I am perfect at it.