Easter Sunday

This post may offend people but offending people is not my intention. I just wanted to bring up some points about what many of us considered tradition this morning.

It’s Easter. I went home last night so that I could be with my family come Easter morning. My mother raised me well, and when I woke up I immediately dressed in my Sunday’s best. I dolled myself up and went off to church. My family was joined by countless numbers of men, women and children; all dressed in suits and floral dresses. We all had to cram into my tiny church. The balcony was overflowing with people and the rest were in the aisles. The congregation was all there for the same reason: to celebrate the resurrection of Jesus Christ.

Jesus lived an awfully long time ago; Christians use the Bible to recount the stories of his life. All those people sitting in my church this morning, along with millions of churches all around the globe, believe in those stories. The story of Jesus and his resurrection is the best one of them all. Through this story, today’s christians are comforted with the idea of an afterlife. Jesus supposedly sacrificed himself for us. Wow, thanks Jesus that was really nice of you.

I am going to withhold my viewpoint about the Christian faith, because to scrutinize one religion over another is not the point of this post. I will say that I believe faith is a good thing, no matter what God you may have faith in. Faith is comforting and makes us better people.

My question is about the origin of religion. Religion exists within every human culture. Who decided that dressing nice and going to a “house of worship” was any more legitimate than those crazy cults from the 70’s? Also, with the technology that we have access to- where is all the hard scientific evidence that these people are actually real? It’s okay with me if they’re not real, I would just like to know.

I’ve heard people claim that believing in XY or Z is ridiculous. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion…but before you make claims like this- know that others may think the same things about YOUR beliefs.

This morning I recited text I’ve had memorized for years. I listened to the choir sing in a language I couldn’t understand. I passed the lord’s peace to strangers I’ve never met. I knelt on my knees to eat a wine-filled wafer. I stood up and sat down depending on the order.
This was exactly how I wanted to spend my Sunday morning.

I was born into this tradition. It seems right to me. I’ve learned about an almighty, all-knowing God who loves me. Other people are born into different traditions. They learn about different Gods, different messengers. And I’m fine with that.

What I want to know is how did all of this religious thinking come about in the first place? I just think it’s interesting that certain beliefs can truly shape your life, yet most can’t trace to the origin of why we started believing in these things in the first place.

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the day of my birth.

Today is 4/20.

Today is Wednesday.

Today is the international day for smoking weed.

Today, Hitler was born many years ago.

What a wonderful day today is.

Today is the day of my birth! Everyone keeps saying “Happy Birthday!” to me, which is nice. Always good to get some love and attention. I guess it’s pretty sweet that the day you were born is always happy.

Today I am going to congratulate my mother for forcing out a useless moving object weighing almost 11 pounds. That same lady also had to deal with that specimen day in and day out for years…even when I couldn’t eat, talk or walk on my own. I’m thankful she did! Three cheers for replicating our species!!! I see it…that’s why every one is so happy today! My birth helps humans overcome extinction! Hooray!

Today’s a good day.

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the best day of the year

Two words: Marathon Monday.

I assume that some of you n00bs reading this don’t understand the epic-ness of this BU-tiful holiday. To help you all out I have provided the very reliable definition from Urban Dictionary: Marathon Monday.

Let me create the image for you. Businesses are all closed. School is not in session. Thousands of over-achievers decide to run 26.2 miles from Hopkinton, MA all the way to downtown Boston. Meanwhile, all of the average Bostonians stand along their course cheering them on. Sounds lovely doesn’t it?  Oh, I forgot one little part. For the average spectator, this is a day to get absolutely wasted, in public.

Every student who attends college in Boston knows the truth about this day: it is the best day of the year.  It’s the day in which we all join together in strange outfits and drink Slurpees from 7/11 mixed with vodka.  Unfortunately for this Bostonian, I felt as if Santa forgot about Christmas. Instead of presents, the Marathon saint forgot to provide me with the ultimate gift: alcohol.

As an athlete, I have commitments and responsibilities. I’m not only expected to push a big heavy bar up and down twice a week to build my muscles, but I’m expected to not consume any booze 48 hrs before a game. I have a game tomorrow and thus, I was forced to a sober marathon experience. I still got to go and cheer on the runners. I still got to enjoy the sun and the atmosphere. I am no booze-bag, but, my marathon monday experience just wasn’t what I wanted it to be.

There’s just something about alcohol. It’s like a magic potion. You drink it and suddenly, the world begins looking a little bit brighter. Everything becomes a little bit more fun. The best part is that you’re totally allowed to act a lot more ridiculous after consuming it. So my marathon monday? Boring.  It just seemed wrong.

Boozing is a regular night time activity.  Sit back, have a drink, relax.  Get dressed up, go to a bar, flirt. Either seems pretty regular. Day drinking? Different story.  Not regular by any means. Something about the phrase “kegs and eggs” just makes me so happy. Marathon Monday last year just might have been my favorite day of college. Why? Because I got so drunk by 11am and flaunted it in public with the rest of my peers. Duh.

This finally leads to me to my point. Why is alcohol so freakin’ awesome? I think it is hilarious that humans have come up with a way to alter our personalities for a few hours. I’m not going to get into drugs because those are a little too hardcore for most…although 4/20 is tomorrow…but alcohol? perfectly acceptable.  I doubt any other creatures on planet Earth have come up with a way to alter our state of minds.

Some of you out there may be reading this and think ‘big whoop, I day drink all the time.’ If so, you’re clearly not from Boston. You’re lucky I am both loving and understanding. So loving in fact that I will help educate you by showing some things Twitter is saying about #MarathonMonday today:

My roommate just said she didn’t drink on #marathonmonday and that it was a GOOD thing. I’m very, very confused…
@BUBiddie BU Biddie
Amen to that! RT @BUgirlproblems: WTF HAPPENED TODAY? #Marathonmonday
@thedalz Dalya Benor
OFFICIALLY BETTER THAN XMAS…. my dream come true #marathonmonday
@alanna_joyce Alanna Joyce
RT @chelsearesnick #marathonmonday good luck to the runners. And good luck to my liver.


anddddd…one last thought: who do you think feels worse today-the people who ran 26.2 miles or the people who drank 26.2 beers? Hard to tell. Check out my teammates point of view about it: http://bit.ly/gCTMeT

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artistic fabulousness

If I dress a little bit too different, I’m looked at with scrutiny. If I act a little big outrageous, I draw too much attention to myself. If I create an amazingly abstract piece of art, I’m a genius.

I had the pleasure of going to London last August. During my shopping trip I stumbled upon Harvey Nichol’s window displays. This store took tiny mundane objects and created them into beauty.

If I manipulated little plastic horses, my friends would probably institutionalize me. If I compiled enough pencils to make a tree out of them, my family might disown me. What about if I found enough cassette players to rip them apart and make a piano out of them? Would it be considered art? I’m going to go with NO.

These displays are so cool that I remembered them many months later. Who knows, maybe this artist was considered weird at first. After working for Harvey Nichols, this guys is nothing short of FABULOUS.

'Man made from books on bench made from books.'Ok, I’m not going to lie. I secretly wish I could make a guy out of books. I just want you to sit back for a second and image if you saw your roommate starting this process. Not normal right? Humans creation of ‘art’ boggles my mind. It is just so weird and I don’t get it.

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things that are unacceptable to talk about publicly

One of the reasons my friends consider me a bit…odd…is because I will talk about anything, anywhere. This pisses me off. As humans, we all do the same things. We have the same body parts and therefore, the same issues. Why we are not able to discuss these things blows my mind. Why is it wrong of me to talk about things that regularly happen to my fellow humans?

So here it is: these are the things I’m not allowed to talk about.

Sex. I’m not Carrie Bradshaw and I’m not allowed to talk about it. It’s completely inappropriate to talk about my sexual experiences. Yes, I understand that this is something you do in your private time…but I mean, jeez. Why does everyone need to be so sensitive? Listen. We all have sex. And if you aren’t – you probably wish you were getting some anyway. I want everyone to grow up and just admit to it. Sex is amazing and we should all be able to rave about it.

Bodily Functions.  In order to survive as a species, every day we must consume nutrients and excrete the useless stuff. This happens…every single day…to every single person. It may not be exciting. It may not be very fun. But you know what? We all do it. Frankly, we all enjoy it sometimes too. Admit it. Nothing feels better than when you really gotta go and you finally let it loose. So next time don’t judge that person in the stall next to you who let out that loud fart, just think about how you do it too.

This leads me to my next point. We also have the same body parts. I’m going to say it and you all are going to feel awkward. We all have buttholes and nipples.  Girls have vaginas and boys have penises. What’s the big deal? Any mention of any of these and you might as well be shunned into a nunnery. Not only are we not allowed to say these words, you definitely, definitely cannot let those hands of yours come any where near them. Oh, sorry, I forgot: it’s acceptable for men to “adjust” themselves. But if I were to tell a story about my how sometimes my hair gets stuck in my butthole after I shower (girls you know what I’m talking about)…oh em gee. Totally disgusting.

Before we move past body parts, I need to put something out there. Women are allowed, even encouraged to show as much boob as possible. BUT! For some reason, it is absolutely unacceptable to show nipple. Remember the part in Mean Girls: “Did you see nipple? If you didn’t see nipple it doesn’t count.”  I just don’t get it. Who decided that these two funny looking circles must always be covered? And!!!!!! WHAT MAKES BOYS NIPPLES DIFFERENT THAN GIRLS NIPPLES!!!????? ARG!! This also pisses me off.

Money. These days, money is important to our survival. We all need it for food and shelter. We spend the majority of our adult lives working to get more of it. But even when unemployment is a huge issue for our country, it is NOT okay to talk about money. I don’t even know how much my parents make. I do know that I am jealous of those rich bitches who drive their Mercedes down Comm. Ave. to get to class. My parents definitely don’t make as much as theirs. Imagine if I went up to this person and said “damn, how much money does your family have?” I don’t mean to be rude, I’m just curious that’s all!

And lastly, sometimes I just want to tell someone that they are getting too fat or that they look ugly. Don’t worry, I would never. I’ve been trained well. There are some things that are simply unacceptable to talk about in public.

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my 10 particular daily habits

Oh you know. Just some things I have done recently.

  1. Due to the thickness of my thighs, climbing up more than 2 flights of stairs is not an option. Therefore, I prefer to stand in an enclosed metal box that pulls me up to where I need to go. Thank god for the pulley system.
  2. I had a follow-up interview yesterday. I impressed my future employer by showing off my ability to balance on my toes while elevating my heels 3 inches.
  3. I spend most days expending a great amount of physical energy running around and hitting people with a special metal stick. Don’t worry. The attackers on the field agree to this type of abuse.
  4. I struggled this morning with a reoccurring choice. I can either risk releasing the pain in my stomach and hoping it will not make a noise…or I can squeeze my cheeks and wait it out. I chose waiting because of the a risk of a lingering smell. This is only a “I’m in public don’t embarrass yourself” decision.
  5. I chose to put metal wires under my boobs. The contraption is tight enough to lift the girls while not restricting my breathing.
  6. I take precautionary measures to make sure my peers do not know my body temperature. Thou shalt not show pit stains nor hard nips!
  7. Every morning and (most) nights I put paste on a random assortment of hard bristles. I then use these same bristles to rub against my teeth. This is meant for cleansing.
  8. I prefer to wedge a piece of cloth between my buttocks. This cloth is particularly convenient when wearing tight pants.
  9. Some people like to manipulate their hair color, or even their eye color. I like to change my skin color by literally baking it.
  10. To pass the time or to ease my nerves I munch on some keratin protein. Well, that is if I haven’t painted my protein in order to look pretty.
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Quidditch

If I were to run down the street with a broom between my legs, people may think I am crazy. How many people does it take to sway the outsider’s perspective away from insanity? The answer!! However many it takes to play a game of Quidditch.

We run around and kick a ball into a huge net-soccer. Normal.

We stand on metal blades a top of ice and throw ourselves into the air to spin as many times as possible-figure skating. Normal

We hit each other with metal sticks in order to get a little rubber ball- lacrosse. Normal.

We hold our breaths under water while moving our feet as fast as possible-swimming. Normal.

We run around with brooms between our legs and throw balls at each other and through hoops-Quidditch. Normal??

Normal is all relative. For these guys…Quidditch is a real sport. Just like all the others listed above.

For those of you who just came back from an adventure through outer-space, Quidditch is a sport played in the popular Harry Potter series by J.K. Rowling. Harry Potter is a wizard, and his broom actually lifts him into the sky. This is what it looks like when muggles (humans) play the sport:

Here is what I captured of this new sport during my Sunday stroll. The video is short, but gives you an idea of just how funny this “sport” really is.

And if you care for a more professional view of the game:

Either way, Quidditch is normal. People are actually getting together so that they can run around with a broom between their legs and throw balls around. The lesson I learned from Quidditch: you’re not a freak as long as you have freaky friends.

Who is really the freak in this situation? Us spectators, or them?

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Blending In.

I feel obliged to explain my two previous posts.

After my freshman year of college I came home with a little diamond stud inserted into my right nostril. My mother saw it and was horrified. She said it “looked like a boogie” and it was disgusting. She also asked why I felt the need to get it. I, being my cocky college self, said something stupid like: “because I’m badass.”

I spent $40, an hour and a good amount of pain to put a metal stud in my nose. Seems odd. This process did not make me feel badass, it did not make me considered “more cool” by my peers…but yet, I walked out of the piercing shop happy I did it. When my friends saw me they did not react by saying “oh god. what happened to you?” or “What is the purpose of that metal thing, and who’s tracking you by it?” Nope. Instead it was totally normal that I pierced my nose.  Piercings are apart of our culture.

As I walked down Com. Ave. today I thought about my personal image compared to the image of the crowd. No one particularly stuck out, and neither did I. No piercings, tattoos, outfits or any other tricks people may do to show a little personality stuck out. Every one generally blended into each other. I thought about how those people from the previous posts would have fit into this crowd. Had they been walking down the street, I definitely would’ve looked twice.

Was my piercing a less exaggerated version of what my fellow freaks are trying to do? I mean that vampire man clearly wants to be looked at, right? I guess I do too…subconsciously. What is interesting to me about our culture is that it is socially acceptable to be pierced…but only to a certain degree. If I decided to make my little stud into a gauge like that other dude did, that definitely would be weird.  Then it seems that anyone is able to argue that everything could be weird if you do too much of it.

So people, I ask you. What’s better? Blending in or taking a risk by looking like a weirdo in order to stand out?

My personal thought: Best to stand out by having fun acting like a weirdo and not paying money for it. (especially when it’s permanent)

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i couldn’t resist

I think this one tops the others.


captain gay vampireThese websites are awesome. Why do we get so much enjoyment from judging other people? I mean, I’m judging him right now, aren’t  you? Kid’s a freak!

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standing out from the crowd

this is one way to do it…

or maybe try something like this…

a bright yellow ensemble can also do the trick…

I just wanted to share some of what I look at when searching for weird stuff. It makes me feel so average.  I don’t have any crazy piercings, nor do I have any tattoos. I have to rely on my ugly face to make me stand out.

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