Competition: May Induce Vomiting

There is something so enchanting about watching males in their natural mental habitat: competition. I love tracking the progression of a competition. It begins as back and forth banter then quickly escalates to the degradation of one's character. Before you know it, the alphas are knee deep in water, worms, or in my friend's case, chicken nuggets. It began innocently enough after a two hour dinner at the dinning commons. Our bellies were full and so was our boredom level. There is never anything to do in the small town we temporarily call home and we rattled off anything that came to mind:

Dave: "Let's drive to Boston...or New York!"

Lindsey: "We wouldn't even get there until 9pm."

Ryan: "Yea, and go to a strip club!"

Me: "Absolutely not."

I am constantly reminded of the downfalls of always hanging around with guys, but I still love them. While their bodily functions and gross-out behavior is frequent, I just generally prefer to hang out with guys. This has changed from high school to college. In high school, I hung out with the group of girls who self-identified as the the "Lip gloss girls." I think they all prided themselves on the amount of sheen and sparkling patina on their lips. Their super power would be that they could blind any other girl with just the right amount of sunlight. The drama was always high in this group, and triangles of hate were often created-- picking one girl at a time to isolate from the group because of something that was heard about someone else, that was of course said behind the back of someone else. Though I "hung out" with this group of girls, I was really nothing like any of them. When I met my close circle of guy friends at college, I knew we were a good fit. We all shared the same sense of humor, for the most part, and drama was something we made fun of, not participated in.

Throughout the night, the guys continued throwing out other ideas that I shot down very quickly, especially when they involved breaking things. Just as the room fell silent, four syllables rang out. Fifty-nug- chug. I quickly found out that this was a competition as the "you wont do it"s began to ring out in a school girl chime. [While some would view this back and forth banter as drama fueled, it is important to note that "boy drama" is not something that is dueled upon. No one ever carries a grudge because the loss of a contest].The boys bought the nuggets and returned to the tv lounge where it all had began. They both started slow with the occasional vomit-stricken panic face every couple nugs, but were finished in about 20 minutes. Neither boy had much competitive nature left in him as Dave retreated to a large, dark room with the windows open to let in the brisk October air. He didn't even bother to turn on the lights... he was too busy hugging a trash bin. Luckily (or unluckily) he didn't throw up. Ryan on the other hand ceased the opportunity as soon as he choked the fiftieth down as he got up and proceeded to the bathroom. Our other male crony friends who did not participate in the "contest" followed him to the bathroom. When they returned, approximately 10 minutes later, an unfortunate discussion began to form.

Ryan: slightly laughing and still looking a bit sick. Ughhh

Kent: Gurrgle gurrgle ahahaha. I can't believe the noises you were making!

Dustin: Yea man, and it smelled like hot fresh chicken nugs!

George: And the colors man, ohhhh.

Me: YOU WATCHED HIM!?!?

I don't understand guys. Even the grossest bodily function turns into a show-and-tell spectacle. While Ryan was feeling rejuvenated, Dave was still feeling sicker than ever but still kept the nugs down...the real winner of the challenge. However, the next day his regrets began to mount as he could feel odd fat deposits in his knees. We also thought about the unhealthy amount of sodium and saturated fats in what he had consumed. This is not to say he learned his lesson though, as the next weekend the boys and I had a Taco Bell and KFC big bucket run. Competition has no boundaries and it seems that it really doesn't matter whether you win or lose, it's how aesthetically pleasing the vomit is.

I can't recall a time when I felt obliged to participate in one of these competitions. I know this is mostly because my judgement has never failed me and I have a good feeling that my stomach is thankful for this life decision.

Definite victory, though he didn't have this smile on his face the next day...

We could see early on who was going to loose this one...

Needed a breather...

What an epic picture. My original caption was "100 nuggets in 2 stomachs," but was soon corrected with "not for long...)

How quickly we forget...

**Please click on the actual photo for the group shot and the last posted photo for the full view**

Barack Obama

George A. Romero, direcor

All Time Low

Travis from Gym Class Heroes

Rapper P.O.S.

In a previous post, I discussed the many deceased celebrities I have "met," but tonight I would like to focus on the living. I have been lucky enough throughout my life, to come into contact with many "famous people." I can attribute some of it to luck, some to begging, and most to determination. I am naturally on the quiet side, not opening up to people until I know them well, but there is something that comes over me when I am in a situation that I am in the vicinity of a celebrity. I am drawn to their star power like a moth to a flame. The bottom line is that I need a photo with that celebrity, and I will stop at nothing to get it. I recently wrote a paper about how I was "forced" to lie now President Barack Obama a few years ago at a political event. I had volunteered for his campaign with the hopes of gaining a photo with the then-presidential hopeful by the end of the event. The picture came, but it was a group shot which included all of the volunteers. I was not satisfied. After we were escorted out of the area, I ventured back and approached Mr. Obama with the intentions of gaining a personal photo, just me and him.

"Can I get a picture with you?" I asked Barack in a sweet, syrupy tone.
"Weren't you already in a picture?" He bellowed back, in a rally-like serve.
I simply replied, "no," waiting for the lie to work to my advantage.
"I think you did," he replied.

Needless to say, I walked out that night disappointed. While the disappointment stemmed from the absence of my coveted personal photo, Obama's personality and reaction truly hurt me the most. I struggle with the thought of being famous. I think, "If I were ever extremely famous, I would be the nicest celebrity out there. I would sign autographs and take pictures with everyone. I will be known for my kindness to fans." I know that this thought would never change regardless of how famous I ever became. I think this mostly has to do with the way I was raised as well as my personality. While I struggle with the question about celebrities and their lack of privacy, I find it so hard to think about their bitterness when they are loved by so many. For many, the status seeps into their heads and constantly swells as their fan base does the same. This is not to say that I have not met countless people in the public eye who have been extremely friendly. It is these people, their graciousness that makes up for all others in their league. It is these people who make me want to continue to seek out my passion of getting to know them on a personal level, out of the spotlight.

Hillary Clinton

Meeting Famous Friends. Volume I: The Dead

Oscar Wilde

Fredric Chopin

Jim Morrison

Meeting people who are living and "meeting" those who are dead are both suprisingly intriguing, for different reasons of course. I will focus on the living later, but the deceased are their own focus. There is something about visiting the gravesite of someone who was on top of the world and worshiped by so many at one time when I wasn't even alive. To think that someone who had acquired such greatness and achievement is now incapacitated, unable to show their greatness is quite a startling realization. At that point in my life when the photo was taken, when standing over Chopin's grave, I realize that I could accomplish more than he could. What does this mean for the rest of us? Although these specific men are now in the ground, what significant accomplishments can any of us say we have done? Not all of us will be world-renowned. No matter how good we are, not all of us will be publically recognized. What is important is that one day, someone will stand in front of us and look down, thanking us for all we did to make their world a little happier.

All photos taken by me at Pere Lachaise Cemmetary. Paris, France

The "Gene" in Geneology

There is something about old photographs that I just adore. I don't know if it's the black and white purity that has been yellowed with age, or thinking about the adult lives of the children in these photos. I typically acquire photos that my parents buy for me by the box-lot at local auctions, all strangers. Strangers in photographs will be a post of its own. Tonight i'm focussing on my parents, my best friends. When my grandparents passed away, albums and albums of family photos surfaced to my delight. I have been used to looking at picture after picture of unknown people, but now I had snapshots of my parents' past. Just looking at a photo doesn't tell a story, you need the person in the picture to describe their thoughts and feelings at the moment. The first picture on this page features my mom in the middle, with her two sisters, my Aunts, holding "spears." My mom was supposed to be the zombie or human sacrafice. When my mom found this photo in the album I absolutly loved it. It was funny to hear that my Mom was a little girl, absolutly hated posing for this picture. She didn't think it was fair that she was being hunted by her sisters.

This photo was taken at easter. Growing up in a Polish-Catholic family, Easter was a big deal for my Mom's family. My grandparents instilled fear in my Mom when she was growing up, both verbally and physically, constant guilt trips and blame. That is why the story my Mom told me that joined this snapshot was so fitting. Apparently duing this photo, my grandparents were yelling at my Mom, telling her that she was choking the poor lamb. The little girl who couldn't have been older than five dealt with the extreme guilt that she was hurting an animal, which she of course was not.
It is so interesting to see my Mother's entire childhood portrayed in one photo.

I just adore this photo. My Dad is the littlest boy on the end next to his two brothers, holding his sack of marbles in his hand. In my present-day living room at home, we have a huge glass jug full of marbles. My dad had won almost every one of the marbles in that jar. My dad grew up on a serious working farm, being worked hard even at a young age. I love knowing that something as simple as marbles was a hobby of my dad's, one that
I still have proof of whenever I venture home.

Taking pictures of trees against sky

We are all microscopic. Think about it. There are billions and billions of people in this world, and we are only one person. Does that ever make you feel small, insignificant? Now look at the world around you. Look up at the trees. For some reason, whenever outside with my camera in hand, I must look up at the trees and snap a photo. There is something about the contrast of the green leafy earth against the pale blue sky that I find so beautiful. I feel like the trees are protecting us. Protecting us from the harshities of the outside world. The tree's limbs act as long rough fingers, branching out and attempting to touch the fingers of its neighbor. These trees represent the arms of our elders. The roots first encroach the soil, slowly emerging until they are their own being. The arm of the tree continues to grow, gaining age, wisdom and the marks and scars to show from its timeon earth. When the tree reaches full maturity, it begins to protect all those smaller that surround its greatness. Using its grandeur for the sake of others, the tree provides shelter, warmth, and comfort to all who gather around. But one must realize, it takes just one strike from another being to take this giant down. We need to preserve this wonder. Have respect for all things older than us. Take notice. Appreciate. Recognize what something or someone else has gone through to get to be a thriving being. Carry a camera. Take photos. Look up at what is protecting us. Look up.