Psych!

Yeah I know, it's been like 2 weeks. I have a few comments on air travel after my latest trip, but I'm stilly trying to organize them (and I'm lazy as hell). My only excuse for lack of posting is that I've been back at school and am so bored that I have nothing interesting to say. We're currently in the middle of our horse lectures, a topic in which I have no interest whatsoever. In fact, most of the time I'd rather stick pencils in my eyes. Horses are the worst designed animals on the planet, and their owners, for the most part, are NUTS. 'Nuff said.

In order to avoid doing any work outside of showing up to class, I have returned to the world of internet TV. I can pretty much watch any episode of any show that I want. (With the exception of Arrested Development which is really annoying.) My newest favourite is Psych. In case you're unfamiliar, it's about a guy with a crazy photographic memory who pretends to be a psychic and solves cases for the Santa Barbara PD.

This and the ridiculous amount of reading I'm doing at the moment to relieve the boredom has prompted me to play the game "What do I want to be when I grow up". When you were little the possibilities seemed endless. The Wind, for instance, ran the gamut from Ninja Turtle to gas staion attendant to Chippendale dancer (when he was 7!!) to professional athlete. In fact, at nearly 22, he's still playing the game. The Perfect Child, slightly more mature than when he wanted to be Batman, wants to go to law school. He still harbors professional athlete dreams that have a slightly better chance of coming true as he kicks for his college football team. And don't tell him I said this, but the kid is GOOD. I think Animal wants to be a professional video gamer. Sigh.

Now, as for me, I was firmly in the Ghostbuster camp. It was a toss-up between that and Olympic gymnast. Right now I vacillate between hotshot detective and some involvement with Philly's professional sports teams. (And no, not as Rink Bunny, although that could be fun...) I've toyed with sports reporter as well as professional singer. I've been plotting lately to somehow become the vet for all Philly's teams, and then maybe get on Animal Planet or the Discovery Channel (preferably not When Animals Attack). Anything to break up the monotony of vaccinations and removing animals' reproductive bits. Sigh. Maybe TPC and I really will just buy our own island like we discussed...

And now back to real life...

Just a few quick words from New Year's Eve as I'm in the middle of packing to fly back to school tomorrow. (Which translates to I've been sitting on my bed messing around on the Internet for an hour and nothing is actually in my suitcases.)

The party this year was 90s themed and required costumes. I was informed of said theme the NIGHT before the party, at which time I had to scramble to come up with a costume. I went to Catholic school for 12 years, and definitely DID NOT keep my uniforms. Managed to find bits of an old Halloween costume from college when I went as a naughty Catholic school girl that could double as Britney Spears before the crazy. (Incidentally my very Jewish friend went as a priest that Halloween, but I digress.) The costumes were actually fairly clever:

As you can see Cris Cross was in attendance, as well as myself as Britney (minus the blonde). A few of the girls had on open flannel shirts (with clothes underneath), although the fact that this was a 90s fashion statement had escaped my notice. My best friend's cousin wore jeans, a sports t-shirt, and an imitation Stater windbreaker with a baseball cap, but really only managed to look like an inner city crack head. Another couple wore t-shirts that simply had 90s words on them - radical, awesome, etc. The best part of the party by far was the music. I'd forgotten how many big names got their start when I was just a young'un.

There were a few choice drunken comments as well:
Said of my best friend's brother dressed in pink polo shirt, white jacket, and old man blue pants: "Dude you look like a drug lord from Miami."

Unfortunately the winner of the night came from yours truly after a bit too much vodka and cranberry. Somehow the discussion got around to people, erm, "getting friendly" with goats.

Big E: No, Welshmen %^& sheep!

Me: You remembered! (pause) Although if you're going to &^^&* an animal, it should be a horse. At least you'd enjoy yourself. (The entire room looks askance at the drunken vet student in the corner...)

My anatomy teachers would be so proud.....