Below are the 6 most recent journal entries recorded in venezia82's LiveJournal:

Friday, August 20th, 2004
8:31 pm	This should be good...are you ALLOWED to schedule dates within 8 hours of each other? On a scale of one to ten in terms of ethical, it just rates bad doesn't it? Well, not if they don't know and not if you're me.:) I'll keep ya posted folks and will return to this subject shortly. Other romantic prospects, I got hit on by a 17 year old waiting in line at student services today. He asked me where we could find what books we needed online and then asked how he could find my phone number. Date number one in 5 minutes...Justin. Puuuuuurrrrrr. (3 Comments |Comment on this)
Thursday, August 19th, 2004
7:01 pm	c Okay, so all roomates are in and accounted for. Bethany seems like she will be a cool girl. Her first question upon looking in the fridge was 'can we replace this zuchinni with beer?' Why yes, yes we can. I went to the dining hall for the first time. I wish everyone had signs on them saying how old they were so I did not feel guilty fantasizing about 17 year olds. The girls here are actually worse than being on Delaware's campus, because not only are they beautiful, they do not look like carbon copies of each other. There is 5 million variations of pretty. Yay. SO excited. I will fail them all. Will have my own computer tomorrow, hurray for connections to society that will undoubtedly suck my brain out.(aka AIM) Cheers for now. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
10:10 am	So this is Virginia? Well, yesterday was special. SO special in fact I did not even have the energy to write about it until today. See, it's not that there was a lot to do, there were only three or four tasks, it's just that they each took a ridiculously long time. And again, I was Megan's Baitch for the day. I would complain more except if I am going to be anyone's Baitch it might as well be hers. So I walked to her dorm which took 25 minutes to a half an hour. And no, i know what you are thinking, but no, I did not get lost. Then, we go to the used bookstore, which was an awesome 45 minute walk. Luckily there was a Dairy Queen on the way home. This would have normally revived me had I done the smart thing and gotten ice cream like any normal person, but I got some bullshit artificially flavored water with several pieces of ice they called a 'misty?' Bad Dairy Queen, bad. So then there was the moving Megan's carpet into her room game. Ever see the circus clowns try to fit into a small car? Think along the same lines. We also put her bed up on bed posts, but not to fear, what kind of bed posts has she bought? Circular ones. And her bedposts end in...squares. We actually enacted the hypothetical situation of fitting square pegs into circular holes. We attempted reshaping the posts by methods of melting, using a hot glue gun, but attempt failed miserably. Now it is our sincere and honest hope that the balancing act we settled on will not leave my sister on the ground one morning. To be safe however, she should probably leave her, umm, indoor sports, to the floor or other more stable areas. Dinner was yet another marathon which Meg said, oh the Hardee's is right over the hill. And over the river...and through the woods...and past the traintracks...and into civilization. Once getting to Hardee's, she asks to borrow money, which would have been fine if I had more than a couple dollars on me. We were actually 'those girls' who asked if they could pay for a cheeseburger with a Visa. Nope, cash only. Or in our case, quarters. On our way home, I tried to reach out towards my less poetic sister and point out that the moon looked like a golden fingernail. Okay, so, not one of my better comparisons. I think she would have actually lost it on me if some weird girl hadn't leaned out of her car while driving by and 'moooooo-ed' at us. We were going to venture out for the evening, but I think at that point we just knew it would either a)end up requiring at least 2 hours to get to any destination or b)end up with the need for more quarters. So to home I went. Excitingly enough I came home to find out that my third roomate moved in. Or was exciting till I found out she was thirty, graduated 10 years ago with an English major, couldn't find a job and is now coming back as a dietician. Oh she shall be an inspiration to us all and hopefully will not have some terrible thirty year old's complex about my boobs being perkier than hers. I hear this happens at thirty. Sigh, Marcello, where are you my love? (Comment on this)
Wednesday, August 18th, 2004
11:25 am	Hmmm...So I followed Erinn's suggestion and made a cocktail out of myself and now I just feel like a cock.(note:I did not come up with these ingredients, they base them entirely off of your username) How to make a venezia82 Ingredients: 3 parts competetiveness 1 part arrogance 5 parts beauty Method: Combine in a tall glass half filled with crushed ice. Add caring to taste! Do not overindulge! Username: Personality cocktail From Go-Quiz.com It makes me sound like a sorority girl. Wahhoooble. to be continued later after finish reading Erinn's journal and figure out how to add pictures to mine and make it pretty colors. Current Mood: amused Current Music: elliot smith (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Tuesday, August 17th, 2004
12:34 pm	love is blind Alright, so the purpose of a journal is for you to write in it every day. But this is new to me, be patient. There are many things floating around in my head and I just sort of have to hope for when the 'why don't you update your journal?' cue floats in. So you see, it's not my shortcoming, it's the cycle's. But let me fill you in on the VA adventures. First of all, it appears that senor italiano may not be living in my apartment but the one across from mine. At first, utter disappointment, but then realized this could be a huge opportunity. For, I am then not limited to said soccer player. I can flirt, kiss, bring home...whoever I want shamelessly and not feel guilty about inviting myself across the hall for a spaghetti and meatball dinner. It's amore! The roomate that is here...hmmm...she's special. She has lived in this exact apartment for 8 years. She has her master's and works for dining services? She brings home leftovers from the dining hall and has assured me that I can just help myself. MMMmmmmm...leftover dining hall food. And she goes to church every sunday, which is fine, I just hope that a half jewish sex fiend doesn't offend her. For your Rachael moment of the day entertainment, let me set the scene. I have somehow managed to find the english building. However, once out of the english building, the campus manages to look entirely different and I cannot figure out which way I came from. So, there on the steps, sits my savior. A pretty blond girl in sunglasses looking dreamily off into the distance, and I say to myself, 'hurray! she will know where to go and will be my new friend.' Apologetic, I walk up to her and tell her that I know I am ridiculous but could she please look at where I have circled my apartment on the map and point me in that direction? She turns her head in my directions, scoffs at me and walks away, but not before picking up her cane. I asked a blind girl for directions. Would someone like to FedEx me my ticket to hell? By some magic, I stumble into the student services building where I find the true angel of the day, my sister. Though you can read on her face she does not want to admit she knows this flustered soul, she helps me to the line where I got my new student ID and a meal plan so that I will eat more than tuna fish (though questionably can still afford rent). I walk with her back to her dorm to help her with the very familiar RA duties. She talks on IM while I make her bulletin boards and greet new incoming students. My favorite detail, however, is her 'where am I?' board. As opposed to saying , 'in the office,' 'in the library,' 'at the gym,'... Megan's board says 'here' and 'not here.' She does her job with a vigor. AND though she managed to put her phone number on the front door so that new students can call her to be let in, she fails to plug in her phone. I have to admit, as long as I am not her hall director, she kinda rocks in my book. Her and her adorable boy toy came over for dinner and I made a date with Justin...to be continued...:) (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Friday, August 13th, 2004
1:12 pm	Here is the thing about mowing the lawn. I would like it but for several things - a)I'm allergic to grass. Not just 'Ah, my eyes are itchy' but the 'sometimes can't breathe well, throat burning, rashy allergic' wonderfulness. b)The obstacles -aka trees, rain spout, bushes, rabbits, my own feet, the house...it's just that if I have to do it, I don't want to have to think about anything. I want to let the grating obnoxious noise drown me into a state of oblivion and not of navigation.c.)It grows back! This is by far the most frustrating of all the reasons not to cut the grass. Just buy a cow already, let it graze. Cow fed, lawn short. However, considering my neighborhood only lets you put up white christmas lights for the holidays and that you must have most other decorations approved by some elusive committee, I could see where they would say no to the cow. Last but not least, I am bad at cutting the lawn - my technique is awful. I miss entire strips, random triangles, the back yard, etc. Maybe i like it that way. Maybe i think it gives the grass more dimension. Maybe I think it gives the insect children a better playground if they have taller stalks to climb and then fall off of...Regardless, it drives the typical lawn mower insane. Therefore, i propose alternative methods of making lawn cutting more fun. For instance, grass should turn a different color when it's cut. You would know where you had already been(much different than the damn sunless tanner that you rub on and just guess what awful splotchy pattern you may have left on your skin and then go to prom clueless and tye-dyed...) and seriously, if every time I cut the grass it turned let's say... perriwinkle, i would mark that day on my calendar with a giant perriwinkle dot and wait for it excitedly. Or maybe if they fixed a t.v. screen to the handle that let you mow the lawn as if it was a virtual reality video game. Like Paperboy but with a lot more blades... Or maybe if you needed to pass some kind of test before you could cut the lawn, have a 'grass shortening' license. Yes, I would be more excited about cutting the lawn if I had one of those. So I come in from mowing the lawn and my consolation prize is waiting- a bavarian creme donut and a glass of orange juice. But my mom is doing her ab tape in the living room next to me. Can you possibly enjoy a donut while someone else is diligently working on their toning,strenghtening, etc? It was difficult, but I did it. I rest my feet on the very footstool she was using for leverage in her crunches, spilling powder to cracked out malibu barbie, aka denise austin, saying 'good job!i'm so proud of you.' I'm proud of me too. Current Mood: creative (Comment on this)