***try the link! it works again!!!****

i'm gonna be a stah


hahahhahahhaha. my movie debut. it's just a trailor. you just wait until the full version comes out. that's right, i sing and dance. hahahahhahahah

Written by, directed by, scored by, choreographed by, funded by, designed by, and starring acclaimed filmmaker Michael Levinge. He's a famous-face! :)

pulling this post out of the archives:



achoo.


:(

So, this seemed pretty cool to me, but I am also pretty bored. I have a stat counter on my blog, and if you click on it you can see how many people look at my blog each day, what keywords people use to search my blog (i.e. wedgewog, facebook, erin frey [that's right you were searched!!!]), and also where my blog was read. I was looking at this today in my post-turkey haze, and resulting from the traditional Thanksgiving dispersal of friends and family, my blog is getting hits from zip codes all over the US and even outside of the country. Of course, there are quite a few Athens and Atlanta hits.

So here's the idea, comment in my blog and leave your name and zip code, or the city and country you are currently in. What are you doing in those crazy places (Tempe, Arizona; Australia; Hawaii)? How's the weather? And is turkey better over there? Leave something clever and witty :)

Cheesy? Perhaps. Remedy for boredom? Mais oui.

Reader interaction. Go. :)

happy thanksgiving :)

two dinners down, one more to go! i really like turkey. and apple pie.

Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder and How I Know I've made it in this World.



Item one- Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Contrary to your guesses, I do not refer to events that may or may not have happened in Sanford last night.

I do refer to a now-infamous incident that occured on Thursday Nov. 10, 2005. As my schedule demands me to be two places at once, I was on my way from Redcoat rehearsal to change clothes for a jazz band concert which was scheduled to occur in 20 minutes (however, as jazz concerts often do, it did not occur in said 20 minutes). I had two options- the dressing room in the PAC, or the bathrooms in the SOM. I chose poorly. I imagined the dressing rooms to actually be filled with important people... such as the faculty also scheduled to play in this concert. So I was off to the women's restroom. And so I have this problem. I don't like anything I own to actually touch bathroom floors. Especially school of music bathroom floors. However, modern bathrooms come with little hooks to hang things on, like for instance, purses. Now I am no physics major, but I can usually tell whether a post is ergonomically safe for purses. Here was my fatal error. My purse is on the hook for no longer than a few seconds, just long enough for me to feel that there is no chance that it will touch the bathroom floor, when in slow motion i see one handle slip of the hook. Noooooooo! I try to reach for it but instead merely deflect a falling menagerie of purse-like items. For example, my little cell phone. Time is still in slow motion at this point. My phone bounces off of my hand and flies precariously towards... no it can't be...yes.... the TOILET!!!!!!! I audibly gasped and lunged for a second deflection, but i was too late. I watched the phone make contact with the toilet seat.

Now one of two things could have happened.
Scenario one: Phone bounces away from the toilet and onto the floor, in which case there are recovery options.
Scenario two: Phone bounces into the toilet. There are no options after this. The phone would still be there, to this very day. It would be dead to me, unsave-able, forever unrecoverable.


By some chance of fate and physics, the phone bounced onto the floor. This is when time returns to normal speed. I think I may have stared at the phone for about 3 minutes, weighing my options. I remember that I have some leftover supplies from my trip to europe... yes, an antibacterial handtowel. I pick up the phone with this and give it a once-over. Four times. Then, i dropped it back in my purse. My breathing rate did not return back to normal for several hours. After the (very long) concert, I returned home. All of this time I have not touched my phone and only minimally touched my purse. On returning home, I laid my phone on my floor and opened my purse. Three guesses on my next action. Yes sir, I lysol-ed my phone and my purse. Then and only then, did I check my messages.

I am still recovering from this incident.



Item two: How I know I have made it in this world.

My roommate had a dream about my blog. My blog has made it to the realm of the subconcious.

And on that note, that's all I've got to say. Sweet dreams?

struggling against apathy. suggestions accepted.

hahahaha. awesome.

So we had the whole MTNA thing today. We were aware that there was only one other group, besides our quartet, in the state competition. However, we were not aware that it was the bulldawg awesome-face brass. They are pretty good, for those of you that don't know. Needless to say, they won. GOOD JOB BD5!!! It was still pretty fun.


Ok so here is my crazy lady story!

I'm at a coffee shop on the east side, at the counter ordering some coffee. I hear this frantic voice behind me and turn around to find what looked like the typical uga girl, except one that had gone through a night of hell.

She said "UM..... excuse me? Um... I asked for a toasted bagel. with butter!!" I thought she was going to cry. The lady at the counter pointed to the toaster and explained that customers toast things themselves at this establishment.

"Omigosh!!! Omigosh!!! I am soo soo soo sorry. I have never been here before... I am so sorry!!"

At this point, she's creeping me out al ittle bit. It's ok lady, it's a toaster.

Crazy lady walks over to toaster and starts poking at it. The toaster happens to be situated next to the suger (which is where I am obviously situated... i needs the sugar, ok?!?!). Unfortunately, poking the toaster is not providing the results this lady is looking for.

Frantic voice again: "Ummm EXCUSE me. Is my bagel toasting?!?! I mean... is it TOASTING?!?!?! I have never toasted anything before... how do you toast a bagel?"



****WHAT***** Who does not toast things? Only one thing is better than processed carbs... and that is TOASTED processed carbs. But seriously, who has no clue how to toast something?


Ok so I let the lady know that her bagel is toasting. She opens the door to the toaster over and pokes the bagel, just to make sure. I sit down, man behind me goes up to sugar counter and the lady says, "UM excuse me SIR?!?! IS MY BAGEL TOASTING?!?! AM I DOING THIS RIGHT?"


Long story short, the bagel gets toasted. The girl walks outside to sit with random guy and eat her toasted bagel. As soon as she steps out, everyone in the coffee shop had a TV sitcom moment. We all looked at each other and in unison said something to the extent of, "That lady is CRAZY." One old lady in the corner mumbled, "kids... ridiculous."

Soon new people start walking in, and as the door opens you can hear the crazy lady saying "Top of the morning to you!!" To every single person that enters or exits. Awesome. Finally she leaves.

However, here is what convinced me that she was most definitely crazy. Imagine this image: A young girl, probably around 20, give or take. Long brown hair, except it's all crazy. HUGE sunglasses a la Lindsey Lohan. She appears to be wearing these items, and ONLY the following items: green ugg boots and one 3XL navy blue hoodie. WHERE ARE YOUR PANTS, LADY?



And lastly, she had on dayglo-pink Lee Press-On Nails. Except the thumb had fallen off.


So, next time you toast a bagel, just remember that you have at least one more job skill than someone in this world.

MTNA tomorrow. after tomorrow evening i can be social again.

remind me to write about the crazy lady i met today. the story involves a toaster.


will write more after tomorrow!