I'm A Little On Edge.

So its hell week, and I'm a little on edge. This makes me notice the little things that ordinarily would have brought out an eye roll or grimace now elicit a death stare and petrifying scowl. For example:

-Girls who talk about Twilight as though it is a real movie.

Sorry, but its not. This movie was not made for "the love of the book" or to bring to life the vibrant words and world Stephanie Meyer's so painstakingly created (sorry but have you even read the book? "I do want to know what you’re thinking — everything. I just wish… that you wouldn’t be thinking some things." -Edward Cullen, Twilight, Chapter 10, p.208. Captivating.) No, these movies were made with the sole purpose of squeezing every last cent out of another teen obsession that blinds young women to the perils of their fixation on a fantasy vampire/werewolf/wizard/mutant-superhero until they wake up from their coma at age 23, dizzy, confused, and $1927 poorer than at age 14 when they first began their descent into the cult of the Hollywood created man. So when you say things like: "You can totally tell that New Moon's director was so much better, it was much better quality and dialogue" it kinda makes me die a little inside. We all know all you Twilight nerds would go see every one of the movies multiple times whether it was directed by Martin Scorcese or my little brother, so stop acting like you know what directors even do in the film making process, and just stick to rereading the books, re-watching the movies, and unfairly comparing the males around you to a vampire created to be the epitome of every girl's fantasy.


-Girls who wear the same outfit everyday:

Northface fleece, scarf, designer jeans, Uggs. Its super comfortable, I agree. I have worn this outfit (sans designer jeans, I'm in college- how do you people have money?!) many a time, but eventually I start to want to differentiate myself from an animated cartoon where the characters wear the same outfit every day for 25 years. Unless you are planning to give up your soul to become a cartoon character (if you know how to do this, please let me know because that's pretty badass), maybe consider not pouring yourself into the same clothes mold every day? I hear that eventually the fleece fibers and sheepskin fur begins to weave itself into the spirals of your DNA and soon it grows as a second skin. Warm? Yes. Creepy? A stronger and louder YES.

I apologize for these scathing (and slightly hypocritical considering I have both seen Twilight and worn the outfit I detest) remarks, however the kind side of my brain is being overpowered by the cranky-psycho-student side. That being said, I have also noticed that the small occurrences in my daily life give me a little hope that I will get through this ridiculous week and continue to mock humanity for a very long time. For example:

-People who are caricatures of themselves

This phenomenon, not surprisingly, tends to manifest itself on the el. I was coming home from the Field Museum after doing a super-fascinating (is there a font for sarcasm?) worksheet for my Plants and Civilzation course (http://www.blogfordemocracy.org/littleshopofhorrors2.jpg) and just as I was about to fall asleep to the gentle rhythm of public transportation (terrible idea by the way) I was saved by Adventure Man. As soon as his Tevas hit the floor of the Red Line train to Howard, I swear the theme music from "Into the Wild" played faintly in the background and somewhere in the distance a wolf howled. Adventure Man walked, nay, swaggered to a seat with the deftness only someone who has frequented the Lincoln Park Athletic Club’s rock wall could have mustered. He surveyed his surroundings with what I could only imagine was a keen eye, though hidden by a pair of highly technical wrap around, mirrored Oakleys, complete with a strap around his neck in case the el suddenly screeched to a stop in which case he could jump up and assist in saving three elderly women, four babies, and an attractive but steely woman to with which to exchange in witty sexually charged banter and not lose those precious shades. Though I was wrapped up in a rabbit fur hat and Northface, he was content in Under Armor and zippered pants- yes, he was prepared for any temperature jump with a simple ZIP! Cargo pants, man-pris, or shorts. Three pairs of pants in one. The ultimate preparedness for the ultimately prepared man. We approached Bryn Mawr (a known rugged stop) and he prepared to set off on another expedition. He gripped the silver pole with leather, fingerless gloves (because real men don’t need their phalanges protected), and adjusted his hyper high-tech, GPS/calculator/seven-time-zone clock/computer/radio watch (approximate size: 4 inches) and readied himself to set off on his newest endeavor. He departed the train, into the setting sun, intent on exploring the new horizons and cultures that awaited him in this Edgewater neighborhood.

-Loyola squirrels

Though I have been informed by many that the squirrels at their school are the most insane, I find that very hard to believe. I think consumption of tossed aside chicken strips and half smoked cigarette butts may have forced the Sciurus carolinenis to evolve into a new species of squirrel that behaves in an oddly humanistic way. I have heard countless stories describing these squirrel-men partaking in strikingly strange behavior, including (but not nearly limited to) eating entire chickens, dive bombing innocent students on the way to class, winking, and dancing. Every time I see one of these funny creatures I get the feeling that it could easily communicate with me in some way, perhaps telepathically by maintaining steady eye contact with those beady ebony eyes, and it would not have very pleasant or sane things to say. In fact I think the diet of Rambler food, sloshed alcohol, and nicotine would probably render speech somewhat akin to whatever that crack lady who sits on the top of the magazine stands outside the Loyola el stop has to say (Insert incoherent gargle/burble/babble here).

Do you find specific things severely annoying during finals week? Do you find joy in the little things you can only see in Chicago/Loyola? Let me know: LEAVE ME A COMMENT :D