HIPPOS?! April 3, 2011

I know, I know I’m LONG overdue. However, I have had a pretty hilarious ongoing conversation with my sister. I’m about to post ALL of it, since my new Blackberry makes it so easy to keep the whole thing in one place. :sigh: I LOVE MY NEW PHONE. I realize that by posting the whole conversation I’m not really being creative in this post..but this whole conversation was creative, dammit!

 

Anyways, here goes nothing. (T is for TJ, M is for me..you know, to simplify my life.)

T: I’m watching this show and some guy got attacked by a hippo! :O

M: I would LOVE to be attacked by a hippo. That sounds like a blast!

T: Minus the missing leg part!

M: Who doesn’t want a stump? I could have a peg leg!

T: I could have a wooden leg! And you could kick people without them being able to say anything about it.

M: A peg leg IS a wooden leg, ya dummy!

T: Oh. Well I could have one of those, too!

M: Copycat!

T: Fine. I’ll get a pogo stick leg.

M: Well now I’m jealous of your leg!

T: Hippo attack=pogo stick leg. SCORE!

M: Wanna go hippo hunting? I don’t want to hurt them or anything, I kinda like hippos. Maybe we can just tease them about being really fat to get attacked.

T: Of course! And we can rub whatever hippos eat on one of our legs so that we can get them to want to eat it! I think the teasing on top of the leg meal would get them to attack us.

M: We could always make a sign that says “Dear hippos, you’re the widest load I’ve ever seen! Eat my leg please? ” You know, just in case they learned to read.

T: Maybe we should write it in hippo language though. I doubt they know how to read english.

M: Ok, “Fat gorgeousness, FOOD?! Get hippo-er!”

T: That makes absolutely no sense to me but I bet it would make perfect sense to a hippo!

M: Well obviously humans and hippos don’t have the same thought processes.

T: “Hippo go nom nom on yummy leg!”

M: No. That doesn’t work at all. You need a hippo tutor!

T: Obviously you do too since hippos aren’t gorgeous.

M: No, that’s to lure the hippo into our plan. Duhhhhh. Do I have to teach you everything?

T: Then apparently you’re the hippo tutor! I gave you the idea anyways

M: Ok, remind me and you’ll get a hippo lesson a day.

T: I put it in the calendar on my phone!  A hippo lesson a day brings on hippo attacks (hopefully).

M: Maybe we could get them to rip off all of our limbs. That would be sweet!

T: Then I could do pogo cartwheels! Or show up that one armed surfer girl!

M: Pogo cartwheels would be the best! Maybe I could teach a pogo tumbling class for beginners. The only prereq would be getting malled by an angry hippo and having all your limbs viciously ripped apart. That sounds reasonable.

sidenote: I decided with a friend of mine today that I’d also teach a class on getting limbs ripped off by hippos. Who WOULDN”T want to take that class?!

T: Girls would be dying (no pun intended. Okay, yeah it was) to get into your class! Gymnastics would be completely reinvented with girls attacked by hippos!

M: This is officially my new life goal.

T: I guess you can have pogo legs too.

M: I want them to be interchangeable though. I could go from peg legs to pogo legs to rocket legs…the possibilities are endless!

T: Rocket legs would be sweet. Maybe we could get hippo legs just to be ironic.

M: That would be hilarious! But would the hippos see our humor after doing us such a huge favor?

T: After being attacked by hippos, there’s no need for them!

M: You wouldn’t want to befriend the hippos?!

T: Okay, maybe. But they might get hungry for more of us! We’re just trying to get rid of our limbs.

M: Nah, I think they’d be pretty happy with the delicious feast we already gave them.

T: Unless they’re greedy hippos!

M: Well that’s why you make friends with the hippos first! I can sniff a greedy hippo out from a mile away.

T: That’s good to know. Greedy hippos are jerks. Interchangeable legs are the best idea ever.

M: Until you’re sufficiently tutored, you might want to invest in the hippo sniffer 3500 if you plan on venturing to the land of the hippos without me.

T: Hangin with the hippos isn’t as fun with only one human. Wait. Why would we tease them if we wanna be friends with them?

M: I tease all my friends. That’s how I roll. You know..or hop.

T: True dat. Or you could fly. Or hobble. Or flipper.

M: We could reinvent the stanky leg with peg legs!

T: Black people will be looking at us to learn how to dance!

M: They ain’t got nothin on us!

T: Hippo powa!

M: “Do the pogo leg, do the pogo leg!”

T: “I whip muh leg back and forth!”

M: Hippo Lesson #1: The Hippo’s favorite place to be touched/pet is right behind its ear. Especially if that touch is from your stump.

T: Sweet! No wonder they haven’t given the whole leg shake thing like  Tug does! I haven’t been petting in the right spot!

M: Well make sure they aren’t standing when you pet their ear. They aren’t so good at supporting themselves while they seize.

T: They do seem quite clumsy on three legs!

 

THE END…for now. There’s a hippo lesson occurring every day. Let me know if you’d like in on my awesome hippo wisdom.

 

P.S.- Check out my previous post about my cousin’s battle with cancer and PLEASE donate to Relay for Life using the links I provided in that post!

 

Relay For Life! March 7, 2011

Today, I (Kieran) was initiated into my sorority, and I couldn’t be any happier about that. But that’s not the point of this post.

I just signed up to participate in Relay for Life with some of my sisters. We each have a goal of raising $100 for it, but I’m really hoping to raise more than that. Cancer is an issue that’s very near and dear to my heart. My cousin, Melody, was diagnosed with lymphoma while I was in high school. Just a few years prior to her diagnosis, I was playing my flute in her wedding. While I wasn’t as close to her as I would have liked, and I didn’t know her as well as I would have liked since I never got to see her much, Melody had always been somewhat of a role model for me. I’ve always known that I would end up working in the health field, though my career path specifically was always changing, and Mel was a nurse practitioner.  EVERYBODY loved Melody, it wasn’t something that could be helped. She was always so happy, always smiling, and had a genuine love for God.

She was diagnosed after her mom, my great aunt (and one of my favorite people), felt a lump on her shoulder while giving her a massage. She had it biopsied shortly after, and began the crazy battle that is cancer. The last time that I saw Mel was after one of my volleyball games for a little birthday party we had for her. She was completely different than the person she had always been, and I can’t blame her. She was partially paralyzed from a tumor that was pressing on her spine (correct me if I’m wrong, mom), and she was miserable. The smiles were few and far between, and her whole demeanor had changed. To this day I feel really awful and guilty for that night. I didn’t know how to handle the situation or to process how different she was, and so I’m pretty sure I barely spoke to her that night. I had no idea what to say, and I took the easy way out of it. Melody passed away shortly after that night, on October 27, 2007 after having battled lymphoma for a year, and left her husband of just over 3 years behind.

Today, I like to think that I’m following in her footsteps. While I am not going to school for nursing, I am here, at her alma mater, pursuing a career in the health field. My mom and I go to the doctor where she once practiced, and I’m beginning to get closer to her parents, my Aunt Mikey and Uncle Ben. I consider Aunt Mikey to be a second mom, and the strength that they have to get through the death of their only daughter will never cease to amaze me. Her and my mom came down to Ohio State to visit me and come to AOII’s Founder’s Day with me, and she told me a story about the night (or maybe a few nights after) Melody passed away. She crawled into bed and then saw that there was a light on on her nightstand, coming from a little keychain. You know, the little flashlight ones that turn on when you hold down the button? That seems really insignificant, but she told us that the keychain hadn’t worked for ages. Not only that, but no one was touching it. She couldn’t get the light to turn off, and it actually stayed on for a month following Mel’s death. To make things even more amazing, one of Aunt Mikey’s friends told her that she had been praying for God to give Aunt Mikey and Uncle Ben a sign that Melody was alright, and then the light came on. Whether you believe in God or not, or even ghosts doesn’t matter. I’m pretty sure everyone can see that this was no little thing. That little light came on after months of not working, with no one touching it, and that little light brought comfort and solace to them. If they somehow had any doubts before, they knew then that Melody was ok, and she’s watching over them.

So that’s my story. I’m going to attach the link to my personal fundraising website here, and I really hope whoever reads this takes the initiative and donates. Like I said, I would really like to raise a lot more than $100, especially since this hits so close to home for me. I’d really appreciate any amount that you can afford! On May 14th, Relay for Life will begin, and my sisters and I will all be walking for the cure for 24 hours. Thanks for your help! (and for sticking with me through that really long, really emotional post!)

In case you didn’t catch the link above, here it is again!

http://main.acsevents.org/site/TR/RelayForLife/RFLFY11National?px=19639502&pg=personal&fr_id=32692

I like to read to Sara to put her to sleep. February 14, 2011

However, problems occur when I come upon a passage such as this (which so happens to be our favorite so far):

“My first soccer game with Luca Spaghetti was, for me, a delirious banquet of Italian language. I learned all sorts of new and interesting words in that stadium which they don’t teach you in school. There was an old man sitting behind me, stringing together such a gorgeous flower-chain of curses as he screamed down at the players on the field. I don’t know all that much about soccer, but I sure didn’t waste any time asking Luca inane questions about what was going on in the game. All I kept demanding was, ‘Luca, what did they behind me just say? What does cafone mean?’ And Luca–never taking his eyes from the field–would reply, ‘Asshole. It means asshole.’

I would write it down. Then shut my eyes and listen to some more of the old man’s rant, which went something like:

Dai, dai, dai, Albertini, dai…va bene, va bene, ragazzo mio, perfetto, bravo, bravo…Dai! Dai! Via! Via! Nella porta! Eccola, eccola, eccola, mio bravo ragazzo, caro mio, eccola, eccolaa, ecco–AAAHHHHHHHHH!!! VAFFANCULO!!! FIGLIO DI MIGNOTTA!! STRONZO! CAFONE! TRADITORE! Madonna…Ah, Dio mio, perche, perche, perche, questo e stupid, e una vergogna, la vergogna…Che casino, che bordello…NON HAI UN CUORE, ALBERTINI! FAI FINTA! Guarda, non e successo niente…Dai, dai, ah….Molto miliore, Albertini, molto migliore, si si si, eccola, bello, bravo, anima mia, ah, ottimo, eccola adesso…nella porta, nella porta, nell–VAFFANCULO!

Which I can attempt to translate as:

Come on, come on, come on, Albertini, come on…OK, OK, my boy, perfect, brilliant, brilliant…Come on! Go! Go! In the goal! there it is, there it is, there it is, my brilliant boy, my dear, there it is, there it is, there–AHHHH! GO FUCK YOURSELF! YOU SON OF A BITCH! SHITHEAD! ASSHOLE! TRAITOR!…Mother of God,…Oh my God, why, why, why, this is stupid, this is shameful, the shame of it…What a mess….[Author's note: Unfortunately there's no good way to translate into English the fabulous Italian expressions che casino and che bordello, which literally mean "what a casion," and "what a whorehouse," but essentially mean "what a friggin' mess."]…YOU DON’T HAVE A HEART, ALBERTINI!!!! YOU’RE A FAKER! Look, nothing happened…Come on, come on, hey, yes…Much better, Albertini, much better, yes yes yes, there it is, beautiful, brilliant, oh, excellent, there it is now…in the goal, in the goal, in the–FUUUUUCK YOUUUUUUU!!!

Oh, it was such an exquisite and lucky moment in my life to be sitting right in front of this man. I loved every word out of his mouth. I wanted to lean my head back into his old lap and let him pour his eloquent curses into my ears forever. And it wasn’t just him! The whole stadium was full of such soliloquies. At such high fervor! Whenever there was some grave miscarriage of justice on the field, the entire stadium would rise to its feet, ever man waving his arms in outrage and cursing, as if all 20,000 of them had just been in a traffic altercation. The Lazio players were no less dramatic than their fans, rolling on the ground in pain like death scenes from Julius Caesar, totally playing to the back row, then jumping up on their feet two seconds later to lead another attack on the goal.”

If you haven’t yet read Eat, Pray, Love: One Woman’s Search for Everything Across Italy, India and Indonesia, then you need to. I’m pretty sure there are parts in the book that will relate to EVERYONE somehow. This book is SO good that it made me laugh, cry, and probably feel just about every emotion in between. Sure, I’m sensitive…but there was just THAT much in the book that I related to. Elizabeth Gilbert (the author) struggles with a lot of depression in the book, and I’ve been diagnosed with it for a little over a year now. It wasn’t until about a month ago that I found my solace: AOII. I know it sounds incredibly cheesy, so bear with me here. From 4th grade to 8th grade, I had classes with the exact same people every year. Then when high school came I was still with a select group of students (there were less than 100 of us), which still included my best friends. When I left for college, I went to Bryn Mawr College knowing no one, but with it being so small and having been put into customs groups, I made some AMAZING friendships really fast. When I transferred to Ohio State, I knew next to no one…and I wasn’t close with the people I DID know by any means. While I’ve made some great friends here, I didn’t really feel the same connection with anyone here like I did at Bryn Mawr (with the exception of Sara, of course. BFF!). That fact, along with Sara’s coercion is what drove me to rush…and now I feel more accepted than I ever have before. I honestly can’t remember the last time I was this happy, and I have Sara, all of my sisters, and my amazing boyfriend to thank for that. In the book, Liz takes herself on a journey that spans the globe to find herself and her happiness. IT IS AN AMAZING BOOK. Read it, seriously.

Okay, I’ve nothing left to say and I REALLY need to get to bed since I have an interview for an internship in the Respiratory Therapy department at the Medical Center in 9 hours. WISH ME LUCK!

Our Maiden Voyage January 15, 2011

First off, this is Kieran at the moment. I would like to begin by saying that 1. Sara had to ask what a maiden voyage was, and 2. she just stabbed herself in the eye with a hanger. There’s no denying that she’s a blonde! (P.S.- Sara..WHAT’S WRONG WITH BEING A BRUNETTE?! hahahaha AWKWARDDDD!) Sara and I are basically the same person, and we met from taking an AWFUL dance class that we like to call “Rolling Around on the Floor 101.” We met by both spending the whole class making fun of the class, and sadly, we were the only ones who really knew how awful it was. It’s pretty depressing to see how ignorant the world is. Anyway, this blog is dedicated to all of our nonsense, as well as the nonsense we see here around Ohio State’s campus. Considering the fact that we’re always crazy when we get together and can never stop laughing, this will probably be overloaded with our nonsense. Hope you find it as funny as we do!

At approximately 1900 hours, Kieran and I embarked on a quest to obtain food. I had already eaten, but since Kieran is my honorary roommate for the weekend, I went along for the ride. First…there was cop. I said “hi” & he said “not on the job”. That set the tone for the night. As we approached the door to leave, there were 4 Indian people, 3 females of the species, and a male. Two of the females were wearing tights and skirts, and the final was wearing a short ass-dress, no tights, and gladiator sandals. Note: it’s below zero outside. They held hands & said “we’re on the beach”.

Kieran and I followed. We’re on the beach became “it’s SO hot out here. I think I’m going to take off my coat. I think I should take of my PANTS. I forgot my bathing suit!” Then, we got to UDF…United Dairy Farmers because I was thirsty. We got into the checkout line behind about TWENTY people eating ICE CREAM. Note: it’s below zero outside. Next on the list was Five Guys to get a burger and fries. There weren’t many people in there, so we got a window seat to view more ass-dresses passing by…and some free peanuts. Kieran got her burger & fries and there we sat, watching the parade of frozen bodies pass the window. A scary-looking Indian man was staring at Kieran, & apparently Five Guys hires 80′s pornstars. Because I wasn’t eating, I entertained myself by getting all the peanuts out of their shells. Then, I made boats out of the peanut shells by filling them with vinegar. Then…Kieran reminded me that boats work the opposite way…so I put another shell piece in the boat & it became a boat within a boat. Nice.

Then I realized, I finished my 7Up! Hmmm…could I covertly fill the bottle from the softdrink fountain? Kieran created a diversion and I ran over to the fountain, TRIED to fill the bottle with Diet Coke. FAIL. It sprayed all over me. So I filled it with tea & we left. I’m pretty sure there are cameras in fast food restaurants.

Now…in the war against smoking, I’ve seen alot of signs with the little cigarette & the thing coming out of it. They all say “NO SMOKING”. On the side of the LAW BUILDING, there was a sign that said “Smoking permitted. Thanks for your cooperation.” What am I cooperating with? No smoking signs come in all varieties, we decided. Some say No smoking. Some say No smoking if you have TWO LEGS. Some say no smoking if you have eyes or are human or…if you are wearing clothes. So then we had a reason to take off our pants.

Kieran again. If Sara tries to tell you at some point that I was talking to an elevator and shushing it, do not listen. She’s crazy! I do not talk to inanimate objects, it was all her. Sara forgot a very important part: The guy at Five Guys was hott, though we’re still not sure whether or not his eye color was real or if he had in colored contacts. Regardless, hot. Sara and I were sitting at our little window seat, innocently trying to catch stare glimpse at him while a group of overweight people blocked our view. Who wouldn’t want to know if those blue eyes were real? What nerve they have??!

So, we have to go now to get everything together for tomorrow so we can go get our beauty sleep for our last weekend of sorority recruitment! We got our nails did, and we have to get all dressed up and prettied up so they want to be our friends. Wish us luck! We’re hoping to both get into Theta and room together.