A tribute to the Thunder to the tune of "Oklahoma"

Oklahoma!
Where Durant comes driving down the court,
And Chris Bosh will weep
When the Thunder sweeps
While Lebron and Wade fin'ly retire!

Oklahoma!
Better than the Lakers or the Spurs,
So they won the West,
Soon they’ll be the best
When they win the finals and the rings!

We know that the Thunder is king,
And so this is the song that we sing,
And when we say: ah yip ah oh ee ayy,
We’re only saying “You’re gonna win, Oklahoma,"
Oklahoma,
O-K-L-A-H-O-M-A:
NNNN BBBB AAAA finals!

(Song begins at :52) 

Summer to-do list: working draft

1. Memorize the list of logical fallacies and mention every one I see/hear (AKA: be obnoxious all the time)
2. Purge my vocabulary of unnecessary abbreviations. Yeah guys, I know it's hilarious and charming when I say "totes perf" but no more.
3. Movie marathon list:
     A. Scorsese
     B. Wes Anderson
     C. Ellen Page
     D. Brad Pitt
     E. Emma Stone
     F. Christian Bale (censored, most likely)
4. Get really good at bocce ball
5. Improve frisbee skills from level 'arm amputee' to '12 year old boy'
6. Climb a mountain

In defense of #eavesdropping

Urban Dictionary defines "eavesdropping" as:

To spy on something or somebody.

Two federal intelligence agents were charged of eavesdropping on behalf of Russia. 

Related Words: espionage, whistle-blowing, nosing.   

The Online Etymology Dictionary states that an "eavesdropper" is: 

"mid-15c., from M.E. eavesdrop, from O.E. yfesdrype "place around a house where the rainwater drips off the roof," from eave (q.v.) + drip. Technically, "one who stands at walls or windows to overhear what's going on inside."

The ever-lovely Miriam-Webster Dictionary describes "eavesdropping" as: 

"to listen secretly to what is said in private "

And the incorrigible (do you need an definition for that, too?) Jazmin Miller (dare you to click that hyperlink) defines "eavesdropping," at least for my purposes, as: 

"I heard you." 

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I've always been of the opinion that if  you are going to say something that you don't want "other people" to hear, you better darn well say it when "other people" aren't around. If other people are around, it's fair game for them to hear it, because let's face it: only 7 year old's can pull off selective hearing with any semblance of grace.  

A "private" conversation held in public is no longer private. 

Again, for my purposes, the part B to that phrase is: "therefore I will post whatever you say on Twitter." 

Part of me is trying to make you laugh and get excited about my new favorite hashtag, but the other part of me is serious enough to be repetitive: if you want privacy, then keep your personal business private. Remember the delicacy of being discreet and verbally conservative, before Facebook and (ironically) Twitter brought our feelings and words to the public and un-erasable diary of the internet? Back when we whispered and spoke in confidence? 

In a way, this new hashtag is a plea for you (not necessarily you the reader, I am speaking to the ambiguous, vague, societal "you")  to watch what you say. 

Because, if I hear you, I'll probably take it out of context and paste it on the internet. 

NOTE: I am totally open to differing opinions on the idea of "eavesdropping." Just to be clear, I am not following people into their homes or taping microphones into restaurant booths, everything I post I hear in painfully public places.  

Also, if you like, you can stay updated and follow me on Twitter here.

The pink door (BONUS: new DiCaprio-inspired life goal)

Tonight, walking up the driveway to my house with leash and dog in hand, I decided to actually open this door.

This is the door to the shed on the property next to my parent's house. If you've ever been out to my house, I'm sure you've noticed it, because my dad hasn't yet found a way to get our lilac bushes to grow into an adequate divider and vision-blocker (think: Berlin wall). Maybe it's the expired Pepto-Bismol pink color or the endearingly dilapidated fence, but we've never found the view particularly appealing. Nobody lives inside the shed or the house in front of it, and nobody has for a long time. I have vague childhood memories of people living there, and even of being inside the house. I remember watching movies and eating delivered pizza, and noticing for the first time that the little white things they put inside the pizza box look like tables for very small people, or mice.

 Let me step back and mention that I've mentioned the shed door in my mind a hundred times, each time finding some new illicit drug growing in the floorboards or rogue bandits planning their next heist.

But even though the house and shed have been empty (allegedly) for years, and I've looked at that door every day of the 20 years of my life, I've never opened it.

So tonight was the night that I actually saw the door for what it was, something I've always wondered about but never committed to exploring. There was always a better time, or a better pair of shoes, or a better soundtrack.

Until tonight.

I'm not sure what I was expecting. Maybe it was some Narnia-like moment of opening the door and discovering fairies and living garden gnomes inside, or a secret treasure, or even just some old relic that reminded me of my childhood.

A strong tug on the latch gave only resistance - I used both hands only to find that it still wouldn't budge. I peeked into the crack behind the door to see... more wood. The shed had been boarded up from the inside.

To ward off any attacks on the anticlimactic-ness of this non-adventure, I will address the "point" of this blog.

Sometimes the door to your next adventure doesn't open, and that's okay, because that just gives you more time for another one.

I feel like I'm in a place in my life where I could go in a dozen different directions and open a hundred different doors, and I know that statistically not all of them will open. I want me to know that it's okay, because there are other doors. I think I want you to know that, too.

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Also. I saw Titanic for the first time (!!!!!) in the theater last week, and it was definitely life changing. Especially Leonardo DiCaprio, who deserves a high-five for being so classy and talented. This experience was so moving that I'm now inspired to do two things.
(1. Watch every movie that Leonardo DiCaprio is in. I'm beginning tonight with This Boy's Life, and am accepting offers from anyone who wants to watch Gangs of New York with me.
(2. Do something before the age of 23 (which is how old Leo was when during the filming of Titanic, fun fact) that will make me memorable. Maybe not movie-poster and fan club memorable, but something worth talking about in 20 years.

Movies Ryan Gosling shouldn't be in.

My brother and I are both 100% on the Ryan Gosling fan club list. Honestly, who isn't, at least a little bit? Tonight we were talking about how awesome it would be to see Ryan Gosling in a wider range of films - and my brother tried to say there were some movies he shouldn't be in. I vehemently disagreed, and almost made this blog post into a list of movies Ryan Gosling SHOULD be in. This includes but is not limited to: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Pride and Prejudice (hel-lo Mr. Darcy), and The Princess Bride. However, that list is longer than I'm willing to type out, so I went the other route and am writing a *short* list (with said brother's help) of the few movies Ryan Gosling wouldn't make exponentially better.

1. Bambi, for obvious reasons. Even though it would be truly awesome to hear him say "If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything else at all" because I'm sure it would resonate straight down to the heart of even the most jaded cynic, it would significantly reduce his street cred.

2. The Hobbit, mostly because he would be limited to a dwarf, a wizard, shady guys from Lake Town, or a dragon. Though dwarfs are notorious for being surprisingly charming, I can't bear the thought of him being half my height.

3. High School Musical. Even though he's great when he sings (Blue Valentine, anybody?), he would be a teacher that bursts into song and choreographed dance about his feelings - nobody wants to see him ruined like that. Not even choir and a capella geeks, and I am a diehard a capella fan.

4. The Brady Bunch. Fighting over hairbrushes, attics, or who has to wash the dog? Nooooo thank you. Or he could be Mr. Brady in his flared corduroy pants... actually, maybe that's not such a terrible idea.

5. Fiddler on the Roof. Mostly because it physically pains me to imagine him 75 lbs heavier singing "If I were a rich man..."

For when you intentionally show up late to a final (bonus: Aragorn's version of a finals pep talk)

Say you're in this Psychology class that normally meets at 8:25 AM. That has been going as well as can be expected all term long, but now it's finals week. Because of some cruel, sadist person out there, occasionally the times of the finals are different than the normal class meeting times. If your Psychology class was to be stricken by this cruel, sadist person, your final may be rescheduled to take place, at, oh, say 8AM.

But, of course, you know this. You remember this 25 minute time promotion like you remember to make your socks always match. So, when you're in your bathroom barely dressed with wet hair and you see the clock strike 8:01, of course you are not plunged into a mind-numbing panic when you realize that you should leave about 20 minutes ago.

Because, as you coolly reassure yourself, today we're only hearing more presentations. I have to make an appearance, but (just like at local concerts) who wants to actually show up on time?

So you casually blow dry your bangs (priorities) and nonchalantly stuff your makeup bag into your purse as you snatch a granola bar and saunter (quickly) out to your car. Secretly you are relieved that you get to maintain your street cred by breezing confidently into the room after the suckers all showed up on time.

But first you have to get there, and you know you can't look like you accidentally forgot what time the final started. You scoff at the very idea! So you have to work some magic with the single bobby pin you can find and the makeup you can put on with one hand. The one hand part is important because Psychology finals do not deserve to be died over, so for heavens sake keep a hand on the wheel, at least one eye on the road, and don't speed. Besides, you planned for this to happen.

Blush is quick and easy and will help you maintain your "cool" image. Mascara is a little harder but not impossible. If you're a newbie, only do this at stoplights. Put on foundation if you have a kabuki brush but avoid (repeat: avoid) liquid foundation. There isn't ever a casual explanation for getting it all over your shirt. Also, though eyeliner may seem like a good idea, it's not. Do not doubt that theory.

While driving, it's best to give yourself a pep talk. It'll help you focus and get into the zone, even though you don't really need any help because obviously this is going according to plan!

The pep talk should look something like this:

I see in your eyes the same fear that would take the heart of me.

A day may come when you curse the very institution known as college,

when we forsake our finals

and break your impressive record of class attendance,

but it is not this day!

An hour of stoplights and slow pedestrians,

when you can see your GPA come crashing down,

but it is not this day!

This day we WILL make it to the final!!

By the power of the impending spring break,

I bid you stand, poor college student!!!

You will show up barely in time to catch the 2 presentations that you need to evaluate, and not even your professor will care that your hair is still wet.

Soap box of the day: "gay"

I just wanted to say that I'm really glad the decent social world has started to see that racist jokes, music, etc. are not funny or appropriate ever. It may seem like a common-sense thing, because we're all just people, but I'm still glad to see that change.

And I can't wait until homophobic, disability, or sexist jokes are also recognized as 100% inappropriate and aren't laughed at anymore.

I've heard it said that calling something "gay" isn't homophobic or offensive, because it's just a word and it doesn't mean something, but it is offensive and it does mean something. I don't want to make this an emotional rant or a thesis, but this is an issue that drives me absolutely crazy.

Using words like "gay" or "retarded" in a negative way is dehumanizing to homosexual and disabled individuals because it attaches that negativity to definitions of people. I know there is a better way to explain that but I'm really worked up so I can't.

Gay people are just that, people, and using the word "gay" as a negative or derogatory term is incredibly calloused and offensive.

There are so many other words to use that aren't demeaning to groups of people.

And that's why I turn into a big jerk when someone does use the word "gay," because I figure that if I make the user feel as uncomfortable as possible they might think twice the next time.