the dull recount of my goings-on

hello, avid reader(s) and those who just can't seem to get their weekly quota of beth.

i'm usually very against the blogging "i went here, did this, and saw this" blog entry, but in this rare circumstance, i think my life merits a word or two of documentation, if only to chronicle the strange, the embarrassing, the awkward, the unbelievably cool.

where to begin, though?

well, let me first summarize, then explain.

-horse shit.
-newsies.
-chair.

the first begins with me losing my "bad hair day" hat in media criticism. i had placed it descreetly under my desk, only to forget it on my merrie way to my creative writing capstone. but vanessa promised to lovingly fetch it, as she had class in there the next hour. i stopped my worrying and went on with my day.

three hours later and a chilly two-mile hike over to western campus, i sat in the harsh plastic seats of boyd 132, anxiously awaiting the reunion with bad hair day hat and me. vanessa sat down with a huge grin spanning from ear to ear. "i found your hat, silly girl!" she said as she placed said missing hat on my head...

...except it wasn't my hat at all.

it was a fedora that vanessa apparently stole from a professor.

excellent.


story #2: chair.

today in my creative writing capstone, we discussed plagiarism, authorship, and the narrow options of seven story lines. this is hardly blogworthy.

the entertainment comes now: having come from a media class where we watched nothing but tv musicals for an hour and 15 minutes, vanessa and i had a penchant to sing throughout our next class. cheek just looked at us. then ... class was over. i was folding up a graffiti'd edition of the new york times to throw away (er - recycle) and wasn't paying attention to my physical locale. and there was a chair right in front of me. so, in true graceful beth fashion, i misjudged the area, and my chuck taylor caught under the chair leg. before i could stop myself, i go flying, pell-mell through the air (the eastern european judge only gave me a 3.7 ... ruddy biased judge). cheek only stared as i re-enact the flight plan of something recently catapulted through the air. it was a shrewd, caculating look that said something like, "everything that has come out of your mouth has been in song form, and you just tripped ... well, let me see, you must be toasted."

it was grand.

horse shit will have to wait, as i have miles to go before i sleep/
miles to go before i sleep.

quote of the day: "you have a child, and i am him."