Psycho Killer… Qu’est-ce que c’est?

“Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.”

Thank you Einstein.  You have given us both the theory of relativity and sound dating advice.

I know I’m absolutely doing the wrong thing.  I know that I’ll never get what I want.  I know that I’m only screwing myself over (repeatedly).  And yet…

The past two nights I have had really disturbing dreams.  The night before last, I was standing outside of a prison (as I am wont to do, duh) when this serial killer escapes, killing first 4 guards and then me.  He was charming and likable, which is why we all let him murder the hell out of us.  He completely tears me apart.  He rips my legs off and I know I’m dead, but I am still cognizant and my body is sort of hovering there with gristle and entrails all out.  He says, “You know, I can see your spine.” I look down, embarrassed.  He then says, “You know I haven’t tried necrophilia in a while…” At this point I am freaked the hell out and wake myself up, only to slip back into the same dream and get murdered by the same guy AGAIN except this time I know how it turns out and I let it happen anyway.

Next night, same dude.  I am now on this crew of bad guys and we are plotting to blow up a high school.  No real idea why.  The same serial killer from my dream the night before (this is bizarre because I never have anyone carry over like that unless they are a real person) is part of our group.  Everyone recognizes that he is a bit unhinged and so when he volunteers to strap himself with dynamite, we figure we’ll kill two birds by getting rid of him in the process.  So he’s all strapped in and starts running towards the school when at the last second he runs back, tackles me, and holds me down so that I blow up with him.

Haha ok so writing this out makes things painfully transparent, but I’ll humor myself and go over the symbolism.

Prison- self imposed restrictions (fail)

Prison guard- one’s higher self, the conscience which keeps us in line (or hey, lets the asshole out because he’s so darn charming)

Murder- symbolic death of a relationship, plan or situation (duh)

Spine- strength of character (so my character is showing…and it’s hot?)

Necrophilia- message to focus on aspects of one’s life rather than dwelling on the past (ok)

High school- step up in one’s level of learning (FAIL, gonna blow it up)

Suicide bomber- an individual who is obsessed with destroying another (haha I it doesn’t come to that)

All right so clear enough right?  Here’s the icing on the cake:

Serial killer- suggests a self generated condition whereby one routinely performs in a self-defeating manner; the methodical killing of one’s opportunities….DING DING DING.

Damn, I gotta get my head right.


January 23, 2009 at 4:38 am Leave a comment

El Autobus

Once the site of endless torture in my youth, I now find the bus to be a place of solace and reflection. I typically ride my bike to work, but on especially cold, rainy, or lazy days I ride the bus because the Chapel Hill-Carrboro transportation system is awesomely convenient and free. Additionally, it is rife with prime eavesdropping/people-watching opportunities. Some of my favorites:

People on their cell phones revealing entirely too much personal information

Figure 1: “Omg I’m totes po-ed!!! I didn’t know you could get herpes from a goat!”

Family drama, payin’ billz, etc. The woman next to me this morning discussed the challenges of balancing your career ambitions with those of your partner. She also put it in my head that I should look into the JAG corps. Weird, I know, but I’m oddly drawn to the military, maybe it’s all the buff dudes

Old people

Figure 2: Hell yes I’m goin out tonight!

Generally the old people on the bus are amazingly pleasant and talkative. I’ve had several older folks compliment me with something like, “Well you look very nice today young lady,” and of course that totally makes my day. I had one bizarre interaction in which a woman in a lavender suit asked me to help her put her arm in her jacket. I had my headphones in and thus could not hear her at first and must have given her a quizzical look because she responded with, “You know you won’t always be young, this will be you one day asking a stranger to help you with your jacket!” On the less-depressing side, I recently had the pleasure of sitting across from an adorable couple. They were off in their own little world holding hands. The husband says to the wife, “Well, how should we pass the time today my dear? Would you like to go to the library?” Maybe they just met last month, but I’d like to think they’ve been married for 50 years and that someday I’ll have that rather than an ill-fitting purple jacket (although given my sartorial and romantic choices, the latter seems inevitable).



Figure 3: iPhone has made me creepy, but to be fair the Baby in a Bearsuit is asking for it.

Yes, the screaming ones can be obnoxious, but most of the children I’ve encountered have been well-mannered and all around irresistible. A lot of them talk nonstop or ask questions that their parents may find annoying but I find adorable.



Figure 4: There’s no shame in public transportation, Ty.

Tyler Hansbrough shares my bus stop and by the transitive property (…maybe??) , I am a minor celebrity. At least, I feel like it when I board behind him and affect the nonchalant air of a member of his posse. Also he totes asked me when the next bus was coming one time omgomgomgomg!!@@


Figure 5: The next stop will be the Southern Village park and ride.

I have yet to encounter a surly bus driver here. Maybe they give them personality tests or they have really comfy seats. I dunno. In any case, one of my favorites is named Robert. Every day sophomore year I took the NS bus to my job at the law firm and every day at the front of the bus there would be a piece of poster board with a different quote on it. He never mentioned the quotes and I never heard anyone ask about them. Robert’s immense beard and reserved nature only added to his mystique.

“Art is always and everywhere the secret confession, and at the same time the immortal movement of its time”

The only quote that I remember is the Marx one above. Robert’s sources were varied though– Kant, Voltaire, Yogi Berra, and I think even Britney.

I, L’relle Antoinette, hereby publicly pronounce my love of and Robert the NS bus driver and The Bus as a larger entity.

December 16, 2008 at 6:44 pm Leave a comment

Luna Bars

I’m feeling less than well-rested coming off this weekend and thus having a harder time with Ye Olde Appreciating today, so I’ll keep this brief.  Luna Bars are effing amazing.  They’re good for you (<200 cals, essential protz, vitz, and  minz) and they taste like candyyyyyyy.

Figures 1 and 2:  Nom nommmmmmmmm

They are a bit expensive, but really no more so than buying an actual candy bar on campus.  Also since they are specially formulated for women, I like to imagine some hapless man accidentally consuming one and instantly forming breasts and a weakness for stupid Hallmark commercials.

I, L’relle Antoinette, hereby publicly pronounce my love of Luna Bars (with a particular fondness for Caramel Nut Brownie and Peppermint Stick!)

December 15, 2008 at 7:53 pm Leave a comment

EAAG: a Celebration

“I don’t get off on romantic parts. But I often think if I had had my dental work done early on, well, maybe.”

~Morgan Freeman, distinguished EAAG

I’ve been feeling rather melancholy lately, so I decided to pull an Oprah (no, not talk about how embarrassed I am about weighing 200 lbs in spite of the fact that I’m pretty much the most powerful woman in the worlddddddddd) and do a Favorite Things series. So from now until Christmas and/or spring and/or the return of Jesus Christ, I will compose a tribute to something I enjoy. First on the list (perhaps to counteract my ageist dream from last night), elderly African-American gentlemen. I’m sure your experience is different if you are say, a middle-aged white dude, but I have had countless positive interactions with EAAG. These Random Acts of Delightful Grandfatherlyness always come out of nowhere and generally make my day every time they occur.


Figure 1: Not RAoDG if the EAAG in question is your actual grandfather.

My most recent RAoDG have come from our gym’s security guard.

Interaction 1.

EAAG: Where are you from?

Me: Apex, where are you from?

EAAG: Raleigh. I just see you smilin’ every time you come in here, so I figure, “She must be from a good place!”


Interaction 2

EEAG: There she is again, smiling!

Me: Haha

EAAG: (Grand sweeping arm motions) It’s not like it is when you came in, it’s all clear now and the temperature has cooled significantly!

Me: lawlkbai!!!!!!!!!


EAAGs in Academia…Chuck Stone

Figure 2: AMAZING.

Revered journalist, Tuskegee Airman, bow-tie enthusiast, and all around classy guy. I interviewed him once as the newbiest of noob reporters my freshman year. I had to call his house on a Sunday. Not only was he very insightful and quote-worthy, he was also incredibly friendly and overall a pleasure to talk to. Although retired, I occasionally see him driving an adorable car around campus and at Christmastime he adorns the front with a wreath, making him a mobile purveyor of holiday cheer. Finally, his son directed Drumline and is the progenitor (and spokesperson) of the Budweiser wasssssssssssap commercials. Weird.

EAAGs at Large… Morgan Freeman

Figure 3: I mean come on, it’s just a no-brainer.

I, L’relle Antoinette, hereby publicly pronounce my love of elderly African-American gentlemen.

December 12, 2008 at 7:34 pm Leave a comment

Nite and Fog

Vampires want darkness, monsters want souls.

I’ve been having some pretty strange nocturnal neuralizing lately.

Figure 1: Que es esto?

The night before the LSAT

I’m coming back from a bar in Santa Fe with two of my female friends (curiously, neither one is Kristin) and they want to stop somewhere to use the restroom.  The streets are empty and cobblestone.  I find this to be ominous.  After we leave the bathroom two men start following us.  I know something is about to happen, but it would also be inappropriate to just take off running.  We walk past an alley and the men run up and push us into it.  I somehow manage to scramble up a tree (???) and am perched above the scene agonizing over whether it’s better to die helping my friends or to save my self and be haunted forever by their screams.  I wake up at this point shaking, no wonder I skipped a page in the test.

Figure 2: One cannot exist while the other lives.

Night before last

I’m driving along 15-501 near the Red Lobster and the Target (how American of me) when I see two tapirs on the shoulder of the road engaged in what appears to be an epic battle to the death.  Being tapirs and thus not having much in the way of natural weaponry other than their goofy schnozes, they are violently bashing into one another with their massive bodies.  I am freaking out at this point because it appears one tapir is going to knock the other into traffic.  Just as the “losing” tapir is about to be hit by a careening SUV, the door swings open and, using its enormous prehensile proboscis, the creature grabs ahold of the handle, launches itself inside, and speeds away.  The other tapir stands by the side of the road looking rather confused and a tad embarrassed.

Figure 3: Youwannapieceame?

Last night

(…she said, oh baby don’t feel so dooooooown…)

I am headed into a Carolina basketball game.  I happen to walk by a crew filming the crowd and stop and wave into the camera. This annoys the camera man ( an older gentleman) who then pushes me and then tells me to get the hell away from his camera.  I am indignant and march up to the nearest police officer to file a report.  A management figure appears with my elderly assailant in tow.  He has started to cry.  In the back of my mind I feel bad because he is just a crotchety old man and couldn’t hurt a fly, but at the moment I’m all HOW DARE HE PUT HIS HANDS ON ME I WANT HIM FIRED RIGHT NOW!!!!!!!!  In the end he is demoted to filming children’s television shows (which doesn’t make sense now that I think about it) that air before 7am.  He apologizes and shuffles away sniffling and whimpering about how much he loves his job.  I feel smug.

I am good at analyzing dreams; however, in order to maintain the delusion that I am a good person, I elect to eschew any analysis at this time.

December 12, 2008 at 3:34 pm Leave a comment

Chronology of an Epic Fail.


1:00AM -7:30AM

Vacillating states of consciousness, creepy dreams.


Arise, scramble to assemble necessary documents, realize I must purchase #2 pencils.


Attempt to eat watery oatmeal, capitulate due to unflagging urge to vom.

Run about the dome cursing, opening and closing things, and tripping over Nigel.


Sprint into Harris Teeter to purchase Mt. Dew,  No. 2 pencils, and a pencil sharpener.  Realize I have forgotten my debit card in the car.  I have $5.  My total is $6.37.  Charge $1.37 to my credit card.


Become increasingly lost in Durham (note: I have been advised that no one will be allowed to enter the testing site after 8:30).


Ditch vehicle at earliest convenience.  Sprint full speed for 4 blocks towards what I can only hope is 333 Leggett St. carrying an undersized  ziploc bag containing a banana, 3 pencils, and a pink pencil sharpener.


Find 333 Leggett St., an architectural firm with locked doors.


Arrive at correct entrance prepared to outrun the security guard standing at the door.


Have my fingerprints taken.


Take a seat at my assigned location, shaking due to a combination of adrenaline, caffeine, and hunger.


Largely ignore the proctors and instead take stock of the other people in the room.  Do we have anything in common beyond the fact that we are all ostensibly applying to law school?  How many times have they taken this thing?  Where are they applying?  Are they going for the money or because they want to make a difference?  The girl next to me is sporting a t-shirt for some sorority event at Elon (I judge her…) and has brought Skittles for her snack (…harshly).   About 20% are African-American women.  I feel suddenly cliche.  One guy is named Robert E. Clare– this amuses me.  The mood is understandably tense.


The logic section.  I fail to finish 2 of the 5 problem sets and in bubbling in random answers at the last second am sternly admonished by one of the three proctors.  Although young and fairly pretty, her expression is severe and she comes off as an unpleasant person.  I check for a wedding ring  and instantly wonder if that makes me sexist.  No, I also check the fingers of ill-tempered men.  Jerks are almost always married, by the way.  She will later have a lengthy and somewhat nasty argument with a fellow test-taker over his refusal to fill in his social security number.


The arguments section.  I finish with ample time to spare and am quite pleased with myself, that is, until I realize with 5 minutes left that I’ve skipped 2 entire pages…FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK.

The rest of the 4 sections proceeded without incident.  I feel particularly pleased with my essay writing.  We have a break after the 3rd and at about 1:15 we are finally set free.  As I walk back to the car I continue evaluate my fellow test takers.  Many of them drive off in luxury vehicles adored with Greek letters and out-of-state license plates.  I wonder why the hell the girl in front of me is wearing 3-inch heels.


I return to the dome and settle into the couch in a zombie-like state.  I’m not really concerned about the results, in fact I’d be scared shitless if I got a perfect score.  There’s nothing more terrifying than having to cull a distinct path and purpose from  infinite possibilities.  Although, I suppose that is what life is, essentially…


December 6, 2008 at 8:21 pm Leave a comment

Yes, yes we did.

If there is anyone out there who still doubts that America is a place where all things are possible; who still wonders if the dream of our founders is alive in our time; who still questions the power of our democracy, tonight is your answer.

At around 11pm on Tuesday night I was standing in front of the bar at Top of the Hill.  Glancing up at the television screen, a single phrase caught my eye

Barack Obama, President of the United States of America

I have no doubt that the entire bar erupted into cheers, but in my head it was completely silent.  I was in utter disbelief.  I.  Never.  Thought.  This.  Would.  Happen.  EVER.  So I just stood there, dumbstruck.  After a few moments the tears came…we did it.  We actually did it.

Everyone rushed outside and down to Franklin St. below.  I have never seen so many happy people or felt such positive energy in my life.  Imagine hundreds of ecstatic undergrads unironically shouting, “USA!  USA!” or grasping hands and singing the national anthem.  This just doesn’t happen.  Not in Chapel Hill anyway.  The cops came quickly but they didn’t seem to want to dampen the mood.  They let people rush the streets with the light via the crosswalk.  It was cute.  Cars drove through honking.  Some drivers would even get out and jump on their cars.  We were all celebrating together.  We won!  Honestly the word that best describes the scene to me is liberation.  It was as though our entire generation had been held in bondage and were finally free, the wall had come down.

I talked to my family on the phone a bit later that night.  They all began the conversation with the same thing.  See?  Now you can do it too.  While I have 0 aspirations for president, I certainly understand the sentiment.  I especially wanted to talk to my grandfather, who had been campaigning non-stop for Obama for a few months (he’d even gotten my mom to vote for the first time).  “Congratulations,” he said.  “This is because of your generation.”

We were always equal in ability, but now we’re equal in opportunity.

It had been a bleak start to the week, raining all day Monday and on  into Election Tuesday, but that night I was glad for the rain.  It was cathartic and cleansing.  And you know what?  It’s been absolutely beautiful since then.

November 7, 2008 at 3:22 pm 1 comment

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