Follies

Follies is once again my life. Of course, this is complicated by puppy ownership (though simplified by not having to recruit-- first year 'DIP week' starts tomorrow!), but since he's allowed to come to Huntsman Hall, Follies has become his life as well. He has so much energy that we can walk two miles to school and he still runs around and plays with all the first year writers. He also barks audibly in the background of at least two of the videos we shot.

Being head writer is not nearly as much fun as being a writer. First of all, I have to be mean all the time. Ironically, I am so much nicer than last year's head writers it's ridiculous. However, when we're writing skits together as a group and a first year throws out an awful joke, I have to say no. At least one of the writers has told me he's terrified of me. Last year's head writers would look at you and say, "You're not funny." I say, "That's not really going to work." Still, I'm mean.

Second, I'm in charge (I have a co-head writer with whom I spend all my time/talk to about 50 times a day, so really the two of us are in charge). This means beyond coming up with funny ideas, we are responsible for scheduling, videos, slides, projectors and all of these other crazy elements that matter to the show.

Third, somehow we have to mediate disputes amongst the cast and make a lot more decisions regarding that arm of the production than in the past. Traditionally, the writers direct the show through the last few weeks, once the cast has assigned roles and learned everything. This year, due to fewer returning leaders on the cast side, we have been brought in earlier and more frequently to make a lot more decisions. We also feel responsibility to check in with the cast daily, which means attending a lot more rehearsals. I love theater, and I happen to love the show we wrote (we'll see what my friends think on February 8th!), but it's extremely time consuming and means I think of little else.

Strangely enough, this all means I am more on top of my schoolwork and have participated more in my classes than I have at the beginning of any quarter since I got here. This is because I know the next two weeks are going to be so crazy, I figure any time I have a chance to get a head start on reading/assignments, I had better do it. I also am trying to set a reputation as a strong class participant so when I am mute in the next three classes, the professor only remembers how assertive I was the first four weeks of the quarter.

Happy Thursday!

Let it snow!

Winter has finally come to the east coast. Snow stuck on Sunday, which was quite beautiful, and just as it melted it started snowing again. Satchel isn't too crazy about it, but he has enjoyed turning it yellow when the occasion arises.

Grosser than Gross

OK, this is horrifying and disgusting. And I am supposed to be writing a paper. So last year, as my loyal readers will recall, I had a little mouse problem. I had an exterminator come in and he laid down some different types of traps and sealed up some holes where he thought they were getting. And you will also recall that I had a somewhat traumatic Mickey and Minnie double funeral late one Sunday night after an otherwise lovely dinner party.

Since the animal who I can't write about until the next post came home, he has made a practice of chasing around a golf ball until it inevitably rolls under my couch and I have to reach under and get it. He also has been obsessed in general with climbing as far under the couch and reaching as far back as he can (considerably far, given his midget-tude), but I always yank him out, covered in dust. OK, not a post about him but I'm trying to set the scene.

The golf ball was once again missing, so I once again knew it was time to look under the couch. This time I could not see it, so I pulled out a flashlight to get a little more visibility. I saw it, sitting not too far back. Behind it, there was a glue trap hanging from the back of my couch with a half-decomposed mouse corpse stuck to it. I guess sometime a while ago (I need CSI to identify the timing) a mouse got stuck on a glue trap I didn't know was there, and in the struggle the edge of the trap got stuck to the back of the couch where it remains hanging down with the body. I'm wondering if my subletter this summer noticed a smell, or if this happened over Christmas or what. I also wonder if that's what the other animal in my life was so interested in under the couch (he usually came out with empty Nicorette gum packages, which I'm still finding in odd places from my summer subletter).

I've had to leave it for now, though I've blocked off access to the under-couch area. I guess I need to pull the couch out from the wall and pry this very sticky glue trap off the wooden edge of my couch while trying very hard not to see, touch, or even think about the rotting mouse corpse on the other side. Or maybe I can wait until graduation. Roger loves a project!

I Said Every Other Post

I never thought I'd be one of those people who put clothes on a dog. But it's really cold here, and he has no body fat to keep him warm. So after watching him shiver at 40 degrees, I had to buy the above. It might finally snow on Friday, so the hood will be especially useful.

Resolutions

Over the break, I had a little bit of downtime in which I reviewed some of my posts from last year vs. the posts this year. I concluded that I am lucky to have as many visits per day as I do. This blog used to be frequent, rarely depressing, and not always dog-focused. So in that spirit, I've resolved to try to write more often, to keep the dog updates to every other post at most, and to only have good things happen this year.

So instead of telling you about his new winter jacket, I'll tell you about the strange thing that happened to me last semester. Due to stress and my greatly scaled back social life, I lost about 15 pounds last semester. Granted, this still only puts me down about five from my pre-business school weight, but it's still fairly significant. It's also very strange. First, I have only lost weight twice in my whole life: when I had pneumonia my senior year of high school, and when I had an assignment at my first job that so completely consumed my life that I couldn't finish a meal or sleep or do anything much at all. Both of these times, it was clear that I was losing weight based on the fact that I wasn't eating anything and everyone could see how skinny I got.

In this case, I had no idea it was happening. I don't own a scale and only know what I weighed before this phenomenon because my gym this summer weighed me when I enrolled. I wasn't really aware I was eating less, nor did I notice that I was getting smaller. Some of the loss no doubt has to do with the fact that I somewhat stealthily went out a lot less last semester. I'm pretty much coasting on my first year reputation as a social butterfly, but I'm home with an-animal-not-to-be-named or working on the show or classes or recruiting or marketing conferences or, frankly, a bit more excited about dinner than parties. Basically, my social life is becoming more like my real social life instead of the social life of a fraternity pledge. Anyhow, not going to bars removes both the calories from drinking and, more importantly, the obligatory late night cheesesteak from the equation.

The weirder thing is that almost no one has noticed. 15 pounds represents more than 10% of my total body weight (I'm at Wharton, we do math). My parents noticed. A girl I've never met but knows a few of my friends noticed and commented to them. I guy I would kindly call an aquaintance noticed. His was the first comment, which spurred me to go try the scale at the gym, which I was then convinced had to be broken. But other than that, not a soul has said anything.

Anyhow, we'll see what happens next. I have no interest in returning to my Argentinian beef/Malbec summer-high, but I might go to Pub this week, so maybe beer will return to my life, if only for an evening.

We're back

Satchel did his first flight yesterday (two, in fact) and is now here in Philadelphia. So far the adjustment has been trivial for him. He might even be behaving better here than he was at home. This might be due to some trauma from being taken away from the two people who had essentially been raising him and being in a completely foreign environment. However, as I watch him wrestle with his rubber Santa chicken, he seems to be unfazed. He also had a standout performance at the dog park. Instead of his normal run from human to human routine, he actually engaged with another dog, and one much bigger than he is (most dogs are much bigger than he is).

Fun stuff!

Found My Calling

As I sit on the eve of my final semester as a business school student, I felt it important to share with everyone that I have finally discovered my calling. As it turns out, I am a scary-good Wii bowler. Wii bowling is not something I've trained for, or practiced. And I am a terrible real bowler. But in Wii bowling, I am unstoppable. The above screen capture (I am in green) shows evidence of my prowess. This means that I am very good at a useless game which can only be played on a device I don't even own. This is what I am best at, beyond any real or valuable thing. Sigh.