No Resolutions, Just Reminisces…

This has been a long fucking year. I can’t say I’m sad to see it end, mostly because I can’t wait to see what 2009 will bring!

20. Getting accepted for two terribly exciting internships in NYC.
19. Working at 225 in BR (where I still work, w00t!) due to lack of funds to live in NYC and work at exciting internships.
18. Being a Big Sis in SAI to my dear Meredith.
17. Finding my badass one-person apt within walking distance of campus.
16. Turning 21!
15. Getting closer to vegetarianism (shellfish only).
14. My first crawfish boil!
13. Learning I am not ready to have a credit card.
12. LSU going to the National Championship and winning! in January.
11. Being cast in “For Hearts” includes bonuses of working with the Cranes, meeting my love Courtney and making lovely new friends.
10. “Sex and the City: the Movie”
09. SATC week with Katrina, Allison and Katie and wine.
08. Getting to meet and write about interesting BR locals for my internship.
07. Meeting Brady McNitt.
06. Meeting Brady’s lovely family.
05. Having dear friends hundreds of miles away who I get to miss.
04. Being with Brady for almost 6 months now, and looking forward to more months to come.
03. LOLcats
02. Further understanding how relationships of all kinds work.
01. ZOOEY!

So Much for Southern Gentlemen

My freshman year of university, my crazy, Californian roommate Katie told me that she is at LSU for her education and her education alone. As soon as she has degree-in-hand, she’s out of here.

We’re nearing the end of junior year. Katie keeps in terrific touch with her hometown friends and has managed to remain romantically unattached with co-eds.

I, on the other hand, am a dedicated sister of Sigma Alpha Iota, loaned my soul to the school paper for one-point-five semesters, jumped from LSU school to school and have had the damnedest time holding onto a solid group of friends.

I learned quickly who to keep in touch with from Chicagoland, and I appreciate every single one of them. We talk when we can but never stop caring. We spend breaks at home together and tell each other every detail of every facet of our lives.

I have had three LSU significant others and one summer romance.

Everything has been trying. And taxing. And tiresome.

With the boyfriends, that is.

A connection in which two people believe their lives are incomplete without each other has been my desire since Kindergarten – at the latest. I’ve been properly seeking it since senior year of high school.

Or … attempting to properly seek it.

This one was supposed to be it. I felt something new; I could actually see myself with him, following our careers, supporting each other’s ventures, traveling, settling in a city, going out when our busy schedules allow. We made sense.

But now things don’t.

Depression, stress, unemployment and boredom have changed the man I believed I could be with.

And I don’t know if he’ll come back.

I don’t know if we’ll come back.

This is why Katie sat college dating out. Work, class and extracurriculars matter right now. We’re here for a degree, possible opportunities.

I just prefer some opportunities to others.

Baton Rouge: A Drinking Town with a … Drinking Problem

T-shirts that end that phrase as “with a Football Problem” cover the upper halves of many a Louisiana State University student and/or fan. And it’s funny – a play on the community’s great love for the Fighting Tigers and the tailgates that precede their matches.

But when does it become obnoxious?

A few of my lady friends and I ventured to Pensacola, Fla., for Spring Break 2007. We stayed for Monday and Tuesday nights, and were baffled that the bars – nay, the streets – were empty.

Baton Rouge is lucky if its god-fearing residents take Sunday off from drinking. Even then, they’ll probably just wait until sundown, especially since the outdated Blue Laws (no liquor sales on Sundays) were recently repealed.

The party really gets started Thursday night, with ’80s Night at a popular bar and some lucky no-Friday-class students ready to start the weekend.

There is always a party in one of the corporate apartment complexes, and if you go late enough no one will probably notice they have no clue who you are.

I’m sure Sorority Row and the Frat Houses are rockin’ on a regular basis, and the various sections of Tiger Band are probably throwing some sort of shindig even though football season ended three months ago.

Every holiday should be celebrated with booze.

Every victory deserves a toast; every loss must be drowned out.

Maybe this is just college life. I’ve only attended one university, but remember that mine is a consistently top-rated party school. People come here to have fun and get fucked up for four or so years.

But how fucked up is too fucked up?

Offhand comments about shaking off a long, stressful week with many a beer may be incorrectly interpreted. Or maybe I’m just paranoid about my Lil’ Sis thinking I am a bad influence of sorts.

I don’t care for relying on anything other than myself – I’ve been let down way too many times, hurt much too much and had more headaches than I should physically be able to get through.

When the thought of curling up with a bottle of wine after a long week of homework, fraternity business, boyfriend troubles and the usual hubbub sounds like the top solution for multiple weeks in a row, something’s got to give.

Is it le joie de vivre de Louisiane? Is it an inability to deal with stress in a healthy manner, the amount of stress or the content of each individual weight on people’s shoulders?

Give or no give, a release is needed.

Outside of hopping the next plane back to Midwest civilization, a bottle of wine is the next best thing to me.

Or a gallon of ice cream … they’re about the same calorie-wise.

A Left-Turn Lesson for Louisiana Drivers

Let’s get this out in the open: I know how to drive.

It’s a benefit of hailing from the greater Chicagoland area.
Moving to Baton Rouge for college has been a trip in more ways than one. After my yearly 14-hour drive, I must become reacquainted with the people, places and climate of my education’s subtropical backdrop.

I like all four seasons – autumn’s changing leaves, white winters full of snow days, heart-warming springtime and not-quite-as-humid summers. I prefer my public transportation to be abundant and reliable. My homeland’s geographic locations begin as corn and soy farmland and grow into small towns with Dairy Queens, shopping mall-studded suburbs, respectable cities and finally the urban utopia that is Chicago. My closet thrives on H&M.

I support da Bears, Bulls, Cubs and Barack Obama. But most of all, I support good driving.

Katie, my Californian roommate of almost three years, has driven me around since she was forced to live with me in Broussard Hall. And for the past three-ish years, we’ve wondered why so many southern drivers don’t pull out in the left-hand turn lane. Such inactivity at a stoplight in our respective home states would warrant angry honking, swearing, death threats and other impolite behavior.

To avoid an embarrassing plea of ignorance to a Louisiana police officer if pulled over for pulling out at a light, Katie has succumbed to the irritating trend of – sigh – waiting at the line. Better safe than sorry? Not in this girl’s “Prevent Violence” dove-plated automobile.

I’ve got things to do, people to see and people who want to see me.

Not only am I incredibly busy and important, but I am used to being on time – whether I’m driving or not. I grew up surrounded by proper public transportation: Metra, Amtrak and Chicago Transit Authority – oh, my!

In the rare occasions, Louisiana’s left-hand turn-lane occupants do enter the intersection, why don’t they always turn? Maybe it’s a good resting place. Perhaps they need some iPod time. Or, if they’re old-school, this is quite the opportunity to skim the CD case.

But why, sweet Sears Tower, why do some people reverse back into the turn lanes after they have already pulled into an intersection instead of – oh, I don’t know – turning? I’ve asked several residents of Dixieland if such a turn is illegal. The results point to a unanimous “I don’t know.”

Thanks a lot, guys. Well, I’ve got brains as well as beauty, so I Googled Louisiana traffic laws to help Louisiana’s drivers. Believe it or not, I ended up at proper Web sites with the pertinent documents and everything. LRS 32:232 states that “only the colors green, red and yellow shall be used” for traffic signals. Good to know.

On a more relevant note, LRS 32:232 states in sub-paragraph (b) of paragraph (1) that “vehicular traffic facing a green arrow signal, shown alone or in combination with another indication, may cautiously enter the intersection only to make the movement indicated by such arrow, or such other movement as is permitted by other indications shown at the same time. Such vehicular traffic shall yield the right-of-way to pedestrians lawfully within an adjacent crosswalk and to other traffic lawfully using the intersection.”

But what about when the light changes? I hear there are two other colors allowed.

That’s where paragraph (2), sub-paragraph (a) comes in.

“Vehicular traffic facing a steady yellow signal alone is thereby warned that the related green signal is being terminated or that a red signal will be exhibited immediately thereafter and such vehicular traffic shall not enter or be crossing the intersection when the red signal is exhibited.”

And when the light turns red, you stop. Preferably at the line, but sometimes there isn’t a line. Then you stop before entering the crosswalk.

What if there isn’t a crosswalk, you ask? Be a reasonable human being and figure it out. But check out the bottom line – pulling into the intersection for left-hand turns is A-OK with the state of Louisiana.

Try this at home, Texas Tigers. Texas Transportation Code Chapter 544.007 totally agrees with its neighbor to the East.

Just make sure to be safe when entering an intersection. As in, don’t hit people, animals, other cars, inactive objects or anything else. And don’t endanger them either.

Let’s not be tacky, guys.

Am I Just Hotter Here, Or is it The Excessive Moisture in the Air?

My mum played basketball for Louisiana State University. She was recruited from her small, rural hometown in Australia and is immortalized in the basketball hall of heroes. Thus, I grew up rooting for LSU.

When the time came, I applied to her alma mater for kicks and jumped at the full-tuition scholarship offer.

I’ve been berated for saying “pop” ever since.

People in this neck of the woods do lots of crazy shit. They call pop “cokes,” only require one license plate on automobiles, are confused by vegetarians and have crowded bars every night of the week.

On the bright side, Baton Rouge is full of coffee shops, seafood and friendly people.

But they’re all crazy.

I can’t afford the therapist necessary to deal with this, so I plan to pour my heart out to you. You can sit back and take it all in, and give me your thoughts as you see fit. Prescriptions – medical and therapeutic – may only be given by those qualified to do so.

Let’s hold hands and get through this together. I’ve still got another year …