Wednesday, December 7, 2011

The Many Adventures of Lisa January: Finals Week

Dear Readers,

     It’s finals week and I know a lot of you are stressed and stuff about not totally failing everything and going home for break to parents who are like, “I can’t wait for you to be a doctor!” and you’re like, “hah hah, yeah..”

So, in the holiday spirit, I’ve decided to help you out and tell you exactly how to prepare for a final/survive finals week.

First:
Start a week in advance by getting addicted to coffee. Don’t like coffee? Too bad. This is finals. Sack up.

You can do this by drinking coffee unnecessarily and then staying up late and then needing coffee in the morning when you didn’t get enough sleep. Done. You are addicted. You may ask, “why do I need to be addicted to coffee during finals week? Don’t I not want to be addicted so that it will work better and I can actually use it?”

This kind of logic is false! It is way more important to be actually addicted so that when you inevitably whine about being tired and needing coffee, you won’t be lying and even if you are actually suffering, at least you aren’t a coffee-poser.


(also, everyone around you will think you have more to do and will then feel sorry for you and offer to bring you coffee at random moments of the day. Hell yeah.)

All of this talk about coffee brings me to my next point, coffee shops:

Second:
Study at cool coffee shops. It will make you feel more grown up and hipster and you can have coffee while you do it.

Also, when you run into people, you can make a big deal about it and be like, “Hey! Omg I know I have soooo much work to do! When’re you done?! Good to see you!!!! I hate finals, teehee, omg!” Then you will feel popular, even if everyone else in the shop scowls are you for making lotsa noise.

*sidenote: You CANNOT be picky about which shop you go to because they will all be so full you may just have to linger outside in the cold until you see someone walk out and then walk in being like, what good timing!

**other sidenote: even though coffee shops are hard to get seats in and encourage you to spend monies which is also kinda bad, and have music playing that can distract you, they are still better than the library for the following reasons:

1.  During finals week, the library looks like a refugee camp, which is scary and smelly cuz ppl don’t shower. It’s gross.
2.  You have to sneak coffee into the library and the last thing you want is for someone to be like, “hey, you can’t have that in here” cuz then their you’ll start crying or you’ll get all angry and be like, “don’t tell me what to do!” and they’ll say, “its against the rules,” and you’ll say, “fuck the rules!!!!” (or start crying) and they’ll ask you to leave and now you need to find a spot at a coffee shop.

3.  Libraries have lotsa stairs to walk up. 

4. Unruly and mean patrons don’t recognize its finals week and feel entitled to the library (which they live in) and can be more distracting than the 90s pop music in the Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf (or the Starbucks. Again, you can’t be picky about coffee shops).
5. Libraries are cold.

***final sidenote: You can’t always study at home cuz as soon as someone finishes their finals they are like, “wanna get food or go do something? Wanna watch Glee? Why are you so stressed?” And you will get at passive aggressive cuz outside you’re like, “I happy for you that you’re done” and inside you’re thinking, “I WILL SHOW YOU ‘DONE!’”

Third:
To Review Session or Not to Review Session

If you are majoring in Reading like I am, you’ll know that review sessions are actually just places for people to talk about how unfair the final is going to be and how it sucks that the TA can’t give us more specific information about what to expect. Sure, you can define terms or whatever, but try and ask a question, I dare you.

Ex:
Student: how long does the response to the identification passage have to be?
TA: as long as it needs to be.
Student: what does that mean
TA: say as much as you need to and then you will be done
Student: how much do I need to say
TA: depends on the scope of your argument
Student: what does scope mean?

See. This is a totally futile get together of angsty, cranky, hungry, tired, stressed, college kids who want their TAs and peers to tell them the answers to the unknowable, unwritten, top-secret final exam. This brings me to my next point.

Fourth:
Avoid that kid who wants to “study” but actually just knows you understand the material better than them and wants you to explain again.

Fifth:
Materials

Again, if you are a Reading major, make sure you have plenty of Blue Books. I always like to bring at least 8 to each final exam. That way, you have:

1 to write in.
1 to make you safe in case you have to cross everything out and totally start over cuz you didn’t read the instructions.
2 to give away to people you are friends with and actually wanna help
2 to give to people you don’t like but feel guilty b/c they saw you giving Blue Books to your friends
And 2 to sop up the coffee at your feet you accidently kick when you realize you only have 30 minutes left and haven’t started writing your 5th essay.

WARNING: 
DO NOT write your name on your Blue Books until you start the final because some skeptical teachers have you pass them all to the front of the class and redistribute them and then you have to cross it out and it becomes aesthetically displeasing and the person that gets it can still see your name and is mad at you cuz their exam booklet is ugly now.

Also, do not forget lotsa pens and pencils. Your ink will run out. It just will. The finals Gods deliberately sit up in the sky and wait for you to be almost done with your in class essay and then are like:




Sixth:
Facebook.

Now, this is a touchy subject and I know there are a lot of varying viewpoints on how to go about fb during finals week. For me, I take the realist approach. That is, I don’t get all dramatic and post a status weeks in advance saying:

“Hey everyone! Finals are coming up so I’m going off of facebook but I’ll be back soon! Don’t worry!”

This is stupid and embarrassing and no one cares. Also, I don’t have anyone change my password for me cuz sometimes I actually just need 20 mins to go stalk cute boys and then I feel happier and can be more productive. But, if you are going to stay on fb during finals, just be prepared to read the following on your mini feed, every. Single. Minute. 




Also, all of these statuses suck b/c people comment like, “it’s okay! You can do it!” or “congratulations!”
And I want to vomit cuz I’m like:


And the Seventh and final piece of advice I’d like to give: DON’T SLEEP.

During finals week, you have less to do than you think, but you spend so much time stressing and whining that before you know it you actually are kinda behind in what you have to do. Therefore, you cannot sleep. However, there are lots of upsides to not sleeping:

1. You can post as your status: “Been up all night. Ready for this final to be over!” and you will sound hardcore and like a college student. And then people can comment and be like, “me too!” and you have solidarity over fb with people
2. If you stay up, you are OBVIOUSLY more prepared than the person sitting next to you and when they ask “how much did you study for this final?” You can say, “Oh man, I stayed up all night.” And then they will be like:


You’ve totally destroyed their mental game! Good for you.
*note: if you are a Reading major, there is no curve, but you can still psych people out.

3.  Sleeping is for noobs
4. Years from now, you can look back and be like, “oh those crazy college all-nighters.”
5. This will help you reinforce your coffee addiction and will make you even less likely to fall into “coffee-poser-dom.”

Hope this helps. Anything I should add? Let me know and Good luck to everyone who isn’t “done.”

To those who are, get off facebook.

Much Love,
Lisa January





Thursday, March 3, 2011

The Many Adventures of Lisa January: The Gym, Part 2 – Slutty Sue and the Tank Top Monsters

The Many Adventures of Lisa January: The Gym, Part 2 – Slutty Sue and the Tank Top Monsters




Dear Readers,

Sorry it has taken me so long to tell the 2nd part of my Epic Gym Saga. Your patience is greatly appreciated. Anndddd.... here we go:

So after I had finally made it to the gym, I thought to myself, "Now what?"

Options:
1. Go inside - this may lead to exercise, but definitely not necessarily.
2. Turn around and go back and tell Selfy to fuck herself b/c she never said to actually exercise, she just said go to the gym and I fuckin already pwn-ed that shit.
3. Go to Taco Bell.

Why is this so difficult to decide?! I considered asking Selfy for a little more guidance, but then remembered that she sucks and that I could make this decision on my own.

Somewhat reluctantly, I decided to go with option 1: actually go inside.

Okay Lisa, you can do this. Just put on a super awesome workout playlist and at least try out one of the machines for, let's say 5 min, and then after that if you want to keep going you can. But, if you are utterly miserable, you can leave and will still have been victorious. Yeahh, that sounds good.

So I went inside.

Immediately, I knew this was a mistake.

I should have gone to Taco Bell.


Just as I was about to turn around and be like, Jklolznvm, I see my friend, Sue, who works out like twice a day and has a body make of  steel but is still feminine and I hate her guts.

Sue: Hey Lisa!
Lisafuckfuckfuckfuckfuckdonttalktomefuckfuckfuckgoawayihateyouskinnyassbitchhoeslut 
Hey Sue, whats up?
Sue: Just about to do some cardio. Where are you in your workout? Wanna join?
Lisafuckyoubitchillneverjoinyouever! I just started. Sure, cardio sounds good.
Sue: Awesome, I was thinking elliptical
Lisaof course you were, bitchhoebitch. Okay. greeeaaattttt.

So Sue and I walk together into the cardio room and try to find two elliptical machines next to each other. Unfortunately, the only two machines open are not next to each other, but one in front of the other. So, just my luck, Sue takes the one in the back, meaning now I am stuck working out in front of the Bionic Woman and she gets to watch me look like a fucking wimpy moron on my least favorite machine ever. My problems are really bad.

*footnote: Elipticals suck. Mostly because they are normally commandeered by all the sorority girls

who can't help but give it a bad rep. Also, it makes your boobs bounce up and down, which may be an attraction for the sorority scene, but in reality it is just extremely painful and not cute whatsoever.


I start elliptical-ing. I feel like a tool. I want to stop. I hate my life. I hate my life. I hate my life. What am I doing here? I look down at the dashboard thingy of the machine:

Oh. My. God. I am never going to survive this. I will die right here. I tried to focus on my music, but the song that comes on is Feels Like Today. Normally, I'd be TOTALLY down, but all I can think is, NO IT DOESN’T! Now I will forever associate this song with this miserable, embarrassed, exhausted, depressed feeling. I want to cry. Now I resent the elliptical even more for making me resent a good song. So much resentment!


Finally, the dashboard reads:

5 minutes. I made it! I reconsider what I am doing, realizing I feel terrible about myself, doing this dumb-ass machine in front of Sue who has probably already burned like 5,698,798,656 calories without breaking a sweat and still looks cute and is like "exercising makes me feel so good!" I can just imagine her listening to Party in the USA and shitting herself about how great and fit she is. I want to throw up everywhere just thinking about it.

So I stop. Get off. Walk over to Sue and (try to) calmly say,

Lisa: Hey, I think I'm actually gonna go to the weight room. anything to get away from your smug gaze burning into the back of my neck like a flamethrower!
Sue: Wow, that is so impressive!
Lisa...bitch. Thanks. Catcha later.

What was I thinking. Lifting? I mustof really panicked back there. Maybe I can just walk over in the direction of the weight room, and then inconspicuously leave out the back door and go get Taco Bell. 


But then I realize I am already sweaty (gross), and now I have even more reason to stay and actually try to exercise. I HATE THE GYM! IT RUINS MY ALREADY REALLY DIFFICULT LIFE!!!

Okayokayokay, calm down. Now is not the time or the place to rage. Just go to the weight room, do a squat or two and then revaluate. Good plan.

I walk into the weight room.

If sorority row has colonized the ellipticals, the weight room is frat central.

So many tank tops. 

I’m not even attracted to these behemoths, but I literally cannot focus with this many tank tops.

It's like all of the biceps in the world revolted and demanded their liberty and the weight room is their party headquarters. So many tank tops! I'm dizzy from so many tank tops. I take a minute to myself to recover from all of the tank tops and then continue on.

I walk over to the squat thing. Luckily, there is no one in front of me, otherwise I would have just split then and there. Been like, ohmantoobadguessig2gbaaiii!!!

But no. Now that I am actually standing in front of the squat thing, I start to get a little motivated. Let's do this! Naturally, I put on the best lifting song ever, Ice Cream Paint Job.

I start by just lifting the bar. (I look around to make sure there are not cute boys who will be watching me epically fail at only lifting the stupid fuckin bar which already weighs way more than necessary). The coast is clear.

Here I go. And in my head I hear: "Yeah buddy, rolling like a big shot, Chevy tuned up like a NASCAR pitstop.."

I take my first squat.

Inhale. GAAHHHHLORDHAVEMERCYYY!! Exhale. 1.

I did it. Yeaaahh Buddy! Only 9 more.

The song changes to Man in the Mirror and I’m like, WTF?! So I quickly search for another good motivating/badass song. Yup, found it: Poppin' bottles in the ice, like a blizzard, when we drink we do it right gettin' slizzard. I’m singing under my breath now, uhhh, what, yeah, what, mmhmm, mmmhmm. I'm starting to really feel like a big shot now and with my new found attitude, I manage to finish one set. Despite my superb mental ferocity, all the while my legs are screaming at me:

I take a break after my first set. Wipe my brow. Finish my water bottle and strut over to the fountain to fill it back up. As I strut, I have this cocky look on my face that tells any and all tank top monsters that, yeah, I lift. What now mofucka??!??!!?

And here I will take another break in my Saga of the Gym and the Tank Top Monsters. I hope you enjoyed Gym Part II. Part III - Abs and Other Miserable Core Work, will be coming as soon as possible.

In the meantime, if anyone sees Sue at the gym, just avoid any and all contact, eye contact, anything, and you will hopefully be saved from the most devastatingly traumatizing 5 minutes of your life.

Sincerely,

Lisa January




Sunday, February 6, 2011

The Many Adventures of Lisa January: The Gym, Part 1 – Getting There

The Many Adventures of Lisa January: The Gym, Part 1 – Getting There

Dear Readers,

Last night, I ate too much dinner. 

Like, way too much. I ate enough food to feed at least 18 starving children in some poor African country for an entire week. I was at that point where you really only have three options:
1.             Puke
2.             Sleep
3.             Die
After not much deliberation (puking smells gross and I am not ready to die, check back with me during finals week though) I decided to go with number 2. Sleep. So, I went straight to bed, with one caveat; I promised myself I would go to the gym the next day…………I knew this would be incredibly difficult so I even prayed to God to give me divine strength:
The next day I woke up, not so happy. I knew I had to go to the gym, but there was one really big problem:

I didn’t want to.

I decided to speak to God again:
But then he was like…
And then he stopped talking to me.

COME BACK!!!!! I screamed hysterically for a few seconds because God had abandoned me. But then I thought: God may have a point. Maybe I should try talking to myself, like crazy people.

I have to admit, I was really afraid to talk to myself. What if my ‘self’ (let’s call her Selfy) was really mean and like a drill sergeant and is all, “GET YOUR ASS UP AND GO TO THE MOTHERFUCKING GYM!!!” That would totally blow. Okay, take a deep breath and just talk. You can do it…

Me: Self, I have a problem.
Selfy: Oh hey wassup?Aite, shoot.
(So far, so good. And apparently Selfy is kinda ghetto).
Me: I am sitting on about 234,293,058,304,982 calories from dinner and my arteries would appreciate it if I went to the gym, but I really don’t want to.
Arteries: PLEASE, LISA! JUST GO TO THE GYM! FOR USSS???!!!! PLLLLELEEEAASSSSEEEEE!! (They start weeping pathetically uncontrollably).
Me: SHUTUPI’mnottalkingtoyou!
Selfy: Whoa, whoa, everyone chill. Why don’t you just get in your gym clothes to start? That way you will start the process of going to the gym.
Me: Baller idea, Selfy.
Selfy: mmmmhmmmm.

So, I got in my gym clothes like a pro.
Then I updated Selfy that I would do a bit of homework first, and let myself acclimate to my spandex.
She said that was fine.
Then I said I needed to start my laundry.
She said that was fine.
Then I said I need to send a few emails.
She wasn’t super happy about that but said it was fine.
Then I said I needed to go get my laundry.

And then…
Selfy: Uhh, Lisa.
Me: What?
Selfy: So, are you still gonna go to th-
Me: No.
Selfy: Yes you are. Lisa, go.
Me: No.
Selfy: LISA!!

…Lisa?

…..Liiiiiisa?????????

Me: Shutupihateyougoaway!
Selfy: STOP BEING A LAZY-ASS AND GO TO THE FUCKING GYM!
….
Me: I can’t.
Selfy: What do you mean you can’t?
Me: I’m getting a cold.
Selfy: You’re lying.
Me: I’m on my period.
Selfy: No you aren’t.
Me: I was on my period last week and I’m still tired and cranky and have cramps.

I didn’t want to go so badly my heart was crying. I knew Selfy was right, but my damned pride and utter laziness wouldn’t let me up. I tried one more thing…

Me: I’m tired, I think I’ll just lay down for a-
Selfy: GET THE FUCK UP!!!!!!!! (louder than I have ever heard any sound ever.)

Now that my fear of a mean ‘self’ had been realized and solidified, I got angry and didn’t want to speak to her ever again. Even the sight of her started to make me rage. I also was getting tired of being yelled at. So, with a ferocious scowl, I got up and left her in my room. Meanie-butthead.

But now where do I go?

Uh oh. I have even less excuses than ever before; I have finally left my dorm room and I’m in my gym clothes. Selfy probably planned this whole thing: that sneaky bitch.

Okay, fine. I can play your little game. I’ll go to the gym!


I was already an all-star, a real OG, a grade A hardcore badass, just for deciding to actually go to the gym. So, with my new found motivation that was bred from spite, I started off…
During my walk, I ran into a lot of people who were like, “are you going to the gym?” and I was like, “Yeah.” And they were like, “Good for you!” and I was like, “I know, I am really disciplined.”

Finally, after a long journey filled with encouraging tunes made up on the spot by me, I reached my destination and felt even more like the badest motherfucker ever alive!!!!!!!!!!11

THE END….

Of PART 1!!!!!

Get ready for the next part, coming soon!

Love,

Lisa January