...In which our heroine isn't shocked.

I visited Bob Evans today and it was great to see everyone there. Thanksgiving was lovely, as always, but I'll be glad to head back to Chicago.

The real news of the day came from my fellow Bob's employee. I found out the reason that I haven't seen you-know-who in a while around campus is because he no longer attends my school. After about thirty seconds of letting that sink in, I realized that I knew this was coming. I hadn't seen him for like a month, and even then it was on accident. I knew that college would be a struggle, but he didn't even make it a semester. I do feel...bad isn't the right word...more like disappointed for his sake, but nonetheless, I'd be lying if I said my life wasn't a lot less stressful without him.

I am quite excited to see everyone tomorrow. I still cannot believe my freshman year of college is nearly half over. I can't wait to hear all the latest scandals, and more than anything to laugh. My circle of friends keeps growing and I certainly do not hate it.

I'll be back in Chicago Sunday afternoon, and I'm amazed how much I miss everyone already. Emily and I have decided six weeks without the boys is too long--they're coming here or we're going up there. Forget abscence making the heart grow fonder, that's too damn long of a time without Ben. Leaving school...coming home...relationship obligations--I guess that my ascent into grown up land continues.

...In which our heroine heads out.

Leaving for Thanksgiving is a very collegiate experience. The fact that I have to "go home" is totally weird and seems like too adult of an action.

The dorms are empty and depressing. Emily and I are in full emo mode because the boys are already gone.

Headed back to Ohio again, and the more I go back, the more it feels like that isn't home anymore. Chrissie had it right--I think my city is gone.

...In which our heroine is thankful.

Yeah, it's not Thanksgiving yet, but Emily's post got me thinking about how genuinely lucky I am, this year more than ever.

Living in Chicago and attending Columbia has been an absolute dream come true for me so far. I'm doing what I want to be, have met the people that are best for me, and gotten to do things that are beyond awesome. And it just keeps getting better. I feel so privleged that my family had enough faith in me (and that IB prepared me well enough) that college so far has felt less like work and more like pure bliss.

As of late, my bliss has been amplified. I let Ben switch my claddagh ring from avaliable to taken Saturday night. We aren't official yet--things are still very new, but we're headed in that direction. He's the boy I waited for all through high school. We're so similar it is scary, but I don't want to jinx anything since it is still in the early stages.

I take the bus home Wednesday night with Emily and get to see lots of family. Thanksgiving is a big deal for us and I'm excited to eat greasy southern food, sitting on the floor of my grandma's house, laughing about stories from when I was a 'lil one. I get to see Cassie, and all those fine upstanding citizens I spent high school with.

I am so, so lucky, I feel somedays like I'm going to wake up from this life and its all going to be a dream. Some days I feel like I don't deserve all this--all these wonderful people who I care about and who care about me. And for that very reason, I am thankful.

...In which our heroine has stuff from all over.

I've been bumming it pretty hardcore the past couple days, but some cool stuff has come into my crosshairs.

• Popwatch let me know that The Sandman is currently celebrating its 20th anniversary. I'm preaching to the choir here, but they are some of the finest comics ever, with my favorite arc being book seven, Brief Lives. Since Watchmen is coming, maybe we'll get a Sandman movie eventually. Also, there's 5 Ways Sandman Changed the World.
• Not that I'm advocating drug use in any way, but Erowid is a fascinating site with all sorts of information about any drug you can think of, with risks, experiences, legality, etc., for everything from caffeine to heroin.
• Rolling Stone's list of the 100 Greatest Singers is pretty decent, but more interesting are the actual ballots cast by musicians.
• I don't really care about Chinese Democracy, but Chuck Klosterman's review of it makes me smile.
• As much as I want to see my family, the prospect of being away everyone here, with one person in particular, is not appealing. Nor is Christmas Break. Why can't there be a stupid Bob Evans in city limits...
• Do yourself a favor and watch the trailer for The Wrestler, I think it's a lock for a Best Picture nominee, and certainly a nomination for Mickey Rourke:

...In which our heroine wastes more time.

Another treat from Ben, this is "Strokin'" by Clarence Carter, because everyone loves the use of claymation to explain the horizontal tango.

...In which our heroine is addicted.

This ladies and gentlemen, is Grow Cube. The actions of the game are simple--place items on the cube in a certain order so that the cube can thrive as an ecosystem. So simple, but so entrancing. Emily and I spent all day Sunday trying to beat it and its various incarnations...V. 2, V. 3, Grow RPG, and the others on the left side of the page.

Go ahead, try and play it without winning. I dare you.

...In which our heroine does the classy thing.

I had a kickass 19th birthday. My friends here provided a better day than (most) of my high school chaps, I have to say. Samson bought me a dozen goregous roses, Ben bought my dinner, and the roomies got me an Amazon gift card.

The whole weekend was pretty awesome. On Thursday my mom mailed up "A Birthday in a Box" complete with party hats, cake, and balloons from most of my previous 18 birthdays, and a couple gift cards for Chipoltle and Subway. Friday night my meal of choice was White Palace, where we all wore Little Mermaid and Snow White party hats and had a fantastically greasy dinner. Then we headed back here, did cake, and played Apples to Apples.

Of course the real treat of the weekend was Cassie getting to come up. I was up all night Friday since she got in at 5:30 Saturday morning. Even the security guard remarked as to our joy when I got her from the lobby.

My latest fascination besides Seth Rogen has been anteaters. Weird, I know, but I think they are the cutest things and want one for a pet, which you can do. So Cassie, being the best on picking up on these things, adopted a giant anteater for me from the WWF. I now am the proud savior on an anteater in the wild, and this one. His name is Boris.

Cassie and I spent a lovely day in Belmont after lunch at Tamarind, the amazing Asian place around the corner. I miss spending time with her--we have such a unique bond and can totally anticipate each other's ideas. It was a good birthday--no one got alcohol poisoning in my living room, and I didn't declare my love for anyone, which were the high(low)lights of last year.

The real event of the weekend was Saturday night when I did something totally sophisticated, along with Cassie, Emily, Samson, Ben, and Lane.

We went to a strip club. The Admiral Theatre to be exact.

Ever since I turned 18, I've wanted to go to a strip club, simply because I am a curious person. I wanted to see the entire atmosphere, from the girls to the patrons to what kind of music they played. So we ventured way out into the north part of the city, on an insane train and bus ride that felt like it took two hours.

Our Heroine's Observations on a Strip Club:

-The dancers were far more normal looking than I thought. They had real boobs for the most part, and a couple were actually pretty.

-The Admiral was far too classy to be totally fun. None of the strippers touched the patrons, even in the nude lap dances that occured two feet away from us on the floor of the place.

-No poles = no bueno. I wanted to see some really cool acrobatics on the poles. However, stripper heels are intense, and the wearers are to be comended for walking around on seven inches of lucite.

-No one goes to a strip club to see girls dance to Tom Petty's "Running Down a Dream." NIN and Tool were nice to hear, but not a single stripper made an effort to dance in any fashion to the music. They just kind of gyrated on their own.

-Call them trashy, call them sluts or whatever, and while many of them are, strippers have more cajones then I ever will. Putting your no-no parts on a stranger is something that must take time to get used to.

I'm glad I went for the experience. I wasn't weirded out by it at all, although I wished for more enthusiasm on the part of the dancers. It was interesting, and I found myself looking at their faces more often then not.

Between the club and something my mom said to me, I had a real mind check about getting older. Some of the strippers looked younger than any of us girls and had to be barely 18. I really wonder what happened in their lives to lead them to the Admiral. I wanted to talk to them, find out what drives them, how they wake up and look at themselves in the mirror.

My mom was talking to me on Friday and offhandedly said, "When I was 19, I was already with dad." That is crazy. My parents got married when my mom was 20 and my dad was 21, which is next year. I guess its the generation gap, but getting married in a year seems like the most bizarre idea in the world. I don't even know what I'm like on my own yet...and to be married, wow. That was a shock to even comprehend.