Freedom of Speech= Free to be an idiot

[caption id="attachment_21" align="alignleft" width="300" caption="Imagine this but 20 times worse. Image from http://www.foundingbloggers.com/"][/caption]

What. The. Hell.

I was minding my own business that morning, slowly dragging from my morning class to the union for a revitalizing cup of coffee, when I saw it. Yes, IT. It looked like a concert backdrop. From my vantage point all I could see were colorful pictures stretched on canvas two stories high.

Then I got closer.

There was something amiss about these photos. Mainly, I was wondering why there was so much red. Like someone had splashed the subject with ketchup just before taking the photograph.

Want to know why?

This was not a concert backdrop. Concert backdrops did not display 4-foot photographs of mutilated babies like it was an enormous scrapbook page. At least no concert that I’d ever been to had setups like this. Babies in all recognizable forms were covered in blood too red to be real but just enough to make me recoil in disgust. Coffee was not longer and option. My appetite had jumped ship and was halfway to Mexico by now.

Yes, I was awake now, but the anti-abortion rally nightmare was real and still looming down at me.

Worse, I was pissed. I am a college junior. I’ve seen my fair share of freak shows abusing their freedom of speech to push their propaganda on our impressionable values. My freshman year, Preacher Bob called me a whore one day for wearing a knee-length skirt. The next day he told me I was going to hell for wearing pants (apparently, I was trying to be a man and that it was “unnatural.”) Today’s show of intolerance and vomit-inducing scare tactic, however, is just too much.

To add insult to my disgust, there was a tiny bulletin board that read “freedom of speech” and had markers attached so you could give your opinion. So, basically, it’s ok for enormous and grotesque dead babies to be seen from miles away but if I have a problem with it, I must write my complaints on an itty bitty board off to the side?!

What if I’d rather take their approach? I know a few guys with a potato launcher; I’m sure I could demonstrate my feelings about their rally effectively with it. Or maybe I could take those tiny markers and creatively defame their giant eyesores? Something like “Sex is fun” should horrify them enough to get the hell off my campus.

What side you take on the “Abortion debate” is unimportant today. Scaring people to pick your side is wrong. The intelligent people, (which are the people you want on your side, by the way) are only going to shake their heads and back quietly across the debate line where they are safe. Back to the side that isn’t going to make people lose their lunch. Next time you want to inform people take a less dictator-like approach, okay?

Girls...explained

In class the other day we compared generic quirks of the opposite sex. The guys snitched on the girls and the girls exposed the guys. One interesting, and slightly misguided rant started like this:

“Why do guys have to find out about their relationship problems through their wife’s/girlfriend’s friends?”

The simple answer is: you don’t. I mean, you’ll always have the silent brooding types that are cute and cuddly one day and icy cold the next. Usually, however, there is a rational (shocking, I know) explanation for your ignorance.

1. It just wasn’t that important. As much as we love you, there will be things that you do that drive us up the wall. The infamous “leaving the lid up” is a perfect example. Now, we know that in the grand scheme of life, having to lower the lid in the restroom is less than apocalyptic. You are, 90% of the time, a charming and understanding man. We appreciate that you are a rare find. So, to insure that we get to keep you, we’re going to pick our battles wisely. We did probably roll our eyes at you when you weren’t looking. Then, over cosmos on girls night (if I have to stereotype, I’ll at least be thorough), we mentioned your faux pas to make our friend feel better about the fact that her boyfriend leaves the toothpaste cap open.

It wasn’t because we were consumed by rage. We weren’t trying to hide our pain. We just needed to bitch to someone and they were available.

2. You’ve confused us. I’m certain you’ve had this feeling. You’re having a wonderful time doing whatever you two love to do on a Saturday afternoon. Your beautiful girl says something that seems to come out of no where. You aren’t even sure what just happened was in English. But you laugh a little and change the subject. After you’ve gone home, or your sig. other has left the house, suddenly it’s all you can think about. You play the moment over and over again in your head. “What did that mean?” It must have been bad or she would’ve been plainer, you think. Now you’re upset. Why couldn’t she have just said what she was thinking?

NEWSFLASH boys: we do it too. Instead of bottling it up inside, though, we speed-dial our BFF. To you, it may make more sense to call the object of our anxiety. The simplest way to resolve an issue is to talk to the source, right? To us, you’ve already confused us once; we need to know what we’re up against before we proceed. If this is big we need a plan.

There are reasons these girls are our friends. They understand us well enough to know where we stand but are also removed enough from the situation to make fair(er) judgment calls. When we tell our friends what happened, we are looking for advice and hoping this is normal. If you’ve picked among the semi-mature females, we do not expect our friends to rely our mood back to you. We just want to know what’s up.

3. We need some time to cool off. This time, it’s serious. You blew off something important to us (meeting the parents, birthday, cancer test results) for a last minute pick-up football invite. Making a scene right now would do no good. You’re already at the field warming up. Even we did scare you enough to go along with our original plans it would be a pity play. We are too angry for the words, “You are so dead.” So we sarcastically wish you luck and before you can say “Bye, Babe,” we’ve dialed up the girls again.

Just like when you confuse us, when you piss us off, we need to know that a) this happens to every girl b) you weren’t trying to be a jerk and c) there is a way to resolve this without upgrading to a new guy. These situations are the reasons it is so important to make friends with the girlfriend’s friends. You will need their support when the emergency phone call (aka relationship court) comes.

We need to vent to them so that when we talk to you, there won’t be any unnecessary screaming. We want to have already dug through the emotional turmoil to get to the point. Yelling, “Jerk, jerk, jerk!” and throwing plates only creates one more mess. It’s much more effective to say, “I’m really hurt that you didn’t feel our plans were important enough to stick to. What happened?” Really, even though we’re upset, we’re doing you a huge favor.

Conclusion
You shouldn’t have to hear the news from our friends. We’re perfectly capable of letting you know when there is a problem that needs to be solved. A fabulous girl won’t let her friends to the dirty work for her. Keep in mind her friends might just be checking in on the situation before your girl’s gotten around to addressing it. We also may have a well-meaning and meddling friend who “just wants to help.” Still, our friends are the airbag in between that keep you from fatal impact. Even if you do get the news from a friendly source, she will probably have something do with your significant other’s sanity. Maybe she deserves a thank you note instead.

Roadtrip, anyone?

Fall football is at its best and on beautiful weekends such as this, going to an away-game is a fantastic escape from the stress of midterms. This weekend, in particular, thousands of Sooners and Longhorns fans stampeded Dallas to watch the Red River Rivalry game. Tickets went on sale for $95 officially, and then were resold to desperate souls for up to $1,000. Hopefully, you got first shot at OU/TX tickets or have benevolent friends.

The ticket, however, is only a very small part of the experience. Crowded hotel rooms, Dallas traffic, Dick’s Last Stand and trash talking at West End are all very important to a successful weekend. But you’ll need at the very least, money to return home. Because you are stingy (in the best sense,) you may even crave a positive balance in your checking account. The great news is, you can have an away-game weekend and stay on good terms with your bank. You just have to plan ahead.

Where to Stay: The beauty of college is that people are almost universally poor. If you have a friend/roommate/roommate’s friend’s uncle who lives in the Dallas area, you may not have to spend a single cent besides dinner. When you score that, you have every right to gloat and spend the money on souvenirs.

If your connections aren’t in the away-game region, don’t panic. With a little digging on the university website, you can find the “official game hotel” that offers special prices for college students. The hotel that hosted us this year offered 4-person rooms for $100 per person for the weekend, three days and two nights. That’s approximately $33 per day. Nice!

That doesn’t mean you can’t use the booming number of budget travel sites for even better deals either. Travelocity.com and Expedia.com are two that will help you compare multiple hotel prices side by side.

Transportation: Before you check in, though, you have to get there. I need you to pay very close attention to the next sentence. DO NOT DRIVE IN DALLAS UNLESS YOU ARE A NATIVE. Got it? Good. Even if you’re used to the angry drivers that aren’t afraid to die as long as they get there first, gas will end up equaling half your weekend bill. I understand sometimes it cannot be avoided but if you can help it, don’t drive. Carpool legally (no friends in the trunk, they will be cranky by the time you get there) at the very least.

My favorite new ride is the train. For $40, you have roundtrip transportation to Dallas from Norman. I can’t get a full tank of gas for $40. Plus, the party-bus atmosphere is way too much fun to pass up.

Riding the train doesn't mean you won't have downtown transportation either. If you choose to stay at the student-catered hotel, there is a monorail system right across the street that will take you to West End (a.k.a. the largest social gathering of OU/TX fans EVER.) and a bus ride to the game. Even if you aren’t going to OU/TX, public transportation is abundant in college towns so there won’t be any problems. Hotel areas are almost always located in an entertainment district with food and fun within walking distance. Worst-case scenario, you and your friends have to split cab fare. It’s still better than an evaporating college-fund.

Food: A college kid has to eat every few hours. The best way to combat the munchies on a shoestring budget is to buy a cooler and pack cereal for breakfast and a weekend’s worth of sandwiches, fruit and water bottles for lunch. Split this with your carpool gang for minimum –ouch!- factor.

Dinner is different. The reason you scrimped on breakfast and lunch was so you could splurge on the unique (or just really good) dining options at night. You will only have two dinners there anyway. So go ahead, give yourself a budget for great food and a few drinks afterwards. My favorite for Dallas is Dick’s Last Stand. The food is alright but the entertaining wait staff and atmosphere is completely worth it. The game is only half the excitement. The nightlife is just as important. Have fun!

In the kingdom of Alpha Phi Omega service fraternity, Big/Little is upon us. Our poor coordinator has outmatched eHarmony by miles. Piecing together sporty bigs with sporty littles and avoiding the outdoorsman/ mallcrawler pair. No, shopaholics will stick together if she has anything to say about it. The shy pledges won’t be overwhelmed (just yet) with the more boisterous of the pack and the social butterflies won’t have to peel their Big from the wall to join the party. It’s almost like Christmas, getting to see who you’ll be calling (once you get to know one another) at 2 am for an IHOP run or have golf-cart races with at different events. Last year was a total blast and I have no doubt this year will be the same.

Twas the night of Big/Little and all through the church,
Chaos erupted! Such gaiety! Such mirth;

The candles were lit in a ring of brotherhood,
In hopes they’d be held by pledges, someday soon;

The pledges were lined up snugly by family,
While visions of siblings made them chatter happily;

And Liz by the door and Jack with his beard,
Hoped warily that these kids weren’t too weird;

After the ceremony there arose such a clatter,
I’m surprised the cops didn’t call, to see what was the matter;

Around the gym they spun like a top,
On roller-skates, with basketballs, the dancing never stopped;

The moon rose quietly across the Norman sky
With all the fun being had, no wonder how time did fly,

But all of the sudden a brightly-lit screen caught my eye,
Nimble fingers, fear among them was none, no,
Instantly I knew it must be Guitar Hero;

More rapid than raindrops the notes they did play,
The crowd whistled and shouted the chords as they came;
“The blue one! The green one! The orange and red buttons too!
Now tilt your guitar you’ll win if you do!
To the top of the meter! To the top of the charts!
You could quit your day job, no more pushing carts!”

As the night progressed, the hunger pangs grew
Luckily for us, there was chocolate fondue;

So to the kitchen all the barbarians flew
Where marshmallows waited just for them to chew;

By this time the poem was reaching its end
After all, who has the attention span to read to “Le Fin”

But to all Alphas, Phis and Omegas on that magical night,
“Thanks for the party, you guys are alright.”

Disclaimer: I do not own the poem "The Night Before Christmas"

R-E-S-P-E-C-T. Get some.

At 4am I’d just gotten back to bed after consoling a drunken roommate who’d found out (for the second+ time) her boyfriend had been cheating on her. It was apparently one of those things everyone else had seen coming but she refused to acknowledge. He had problems being open with his friends about his relationship status with her and regularly pitched fits in public situations because she “embarrassed” him. He would invite her over, to parties, etc. then spend the evening locked up in a room with another girl…but somehow she has deluded herself into thinking this was something that was supposed to last.

We spent over three hours listening, comforting and feeding this girl before we tucked her in bed. The next morning, which came all too soon, we found her bed empty. Guess where she was? “Sleeping off” last night’s hysterics at the jerk’s apartment. The night before she could hear what he and his new friend were doing behind a locked door but apparently it wasn’t enough to keep her away from Mr. Charming.

She buys him food on a regular basis, does his laundry, and I don’t want to know what else. For what? To be toted around as a back-up plan in case there aren’t enough slutty girls at the party.

I see a lot of girls like her. They live to serve their boyfriend and don’t understand why they aren’t respected by them. She stayed in here this summer to be with him and was considering taking a job here after graduation to be close until he was finished with school. I have many theories why she and girls like her end up like this: low self-esteem, need for constant validation, loneliness and desperation. But it also seems to be the ones who have the most going for them. In all other areas of their lives, they appear to be cool and collected. Then comes a smooth talker and it’s all downhill from there.

What I want to know though, is if there are guys like this or if this is a strictly female phenomenon? Are there guys who will take multiple situational beatings and tell people they are in love? I’m not talking about guys who take crap from their girlfriends but still act made for each other at the end of the day, I’m talking about putting up with cheating and numerous rejections from their girlfriends.

I also want to know what goes on in the mind of the guys that accept big gifts, favors (of all sorts) and affection, then act disgusted when the girl acts like they have a connection/relations. Surely, they can’t be heartlessly leading on random girls for sex and clean laundry….right? Whose fault is it, in the end? The girl who bent over backwards for a guy who displayed little affection? The guy who didn’t stop the girl when he knew he didn’t want her?

I’m tired of seeing girls that don’t stick up for themselves or value themselves enough to realize they could do so much better. It worries me to think this might be something in the female brain or social training that we are supposed to be co-dependant or self-sacrificing for the sake of having a relationship. It can’t be all of us, I myself tend to be categorized in the opposite direction, but more and more of these girls are popping out of the woodwork.

And counting...

17 more days. By the time I post this it will probably be 16. My boyfriend has already been in Afghanistan for almost five months, so two and a half weeks shouldn’t even register. But as the last countdown begins, it gets harder not to have him around. Seeing guys in uniform walk across campus now catches me off guard every time. I’m sure they wonder why the weirdo on the other side of the oval is squinting determinedly at them. Is she trying to turn them into someone else?

Yes, but it hasn’t happened just yet. She’s working on finding the magic words as we speak.

It didn’t feel like this in the beginning. The months stretched out forever. While I still missed him, nothing would change for some time. The only thing to do was forget about him for the summer and see if I still liked him when he got back. We hadn’t been dating long enough to make any promises, so it seemed like a good plan.

After it became evident that the phone conversations weren’t going to get any less frequent and the letters began to fill pages, the plan gave up. Then it was a matter of stamina. How long can we keep this up? Five months, apparently. All the while it gets harder to hang up and go back to studying for a test that does not make the days go by any faster.

Now the end is in sight but just out of reach. Nervous excitement permeates my daily life; I’m almost expecting him to be sitting on my couch when I get back from class with an amused smile that clearly says, “surprise.”

Something that keeps floating around in my brain is the fact that we’ve gotten to know each other extremely well over the summer. We reached a level of trust much quicker that we would’ve if he’d stayed here. It all happened over the phone or in letters, though.

It’s interesting how much easier it is to be open when you can’t see the other person’s reaction. We’ve become so comfortable with each other in a long-distance relationship, I cannot help but wonder how that will translate once he is a physical presence in my life again. We’re almost different people in our writing and over the phone, how much work will it take to reconnect the face with the words?

Ideally, we have waited too long to see each other again to let it be a barrier for more than a few hours. Realistically, though, it may take weeks, maybe months, to regain a comfort level with someone I’m used to being gone.

I’ll have to wait 16 more days to find out.

Am I growing OLD or growing UP?

It isn't hard to enjoy growing at my age. I can wear those ratty old jeans that my mother condemned years ago. I can stay out all night, or all weekend, if the mood strikes me. I can eat cake for breakfast and have pizza for dessert. Getting older, at this point, is great.

Then there are little reminders that I'm supposed to be maturing as each birthday passes. I'm supposed to be ready for separation from my best-friends-since-middle-school. I shouldn't be so concerned about the fact that one has just moved to Hawaii and I can't just show up at her door anymore. That's what happens when you grow up, right? People's interests change and they leave.

I recognize that moving as a fact of life, but I still haven't come to terms with the number of weddings I've been to or the engagements I've witnessed over the past year. Two friends have been "dropped" (the Greek equivalent of a promise ring) and three more with actual promise rings. One new bride is already pregnant after her one-year anniversary. She'll have her first child before she can have her first beer.

I have a friend who explained the madness the best. Or maybe she's the best example of the madness. Regardless, she has set up her future as a simple math problem. We start backwards with the fact that she wants to be finished having kids when she is thirty. So, we'll say that from age 28-30 she's having babies. Now, she will also make sure she's had at least two years of marital bliss before the children arrive. So she will be around 26 at her wedding. But, she isn't just going to rush into love, she wants time to make sure he's the one. 3-5 years for a thorough background check and compatibility test. My friend must then meet the man of her dreams by the time she is 23, at the latest. This doesn't factor in all the Mr. Wrongs that inevitably show up in your life just to slow you down.

Maybe I'm still immature, but I'm beginning to feel like I chased some bizarre little bunny down the wrong rabbit hole. I don't belong here, among the first houses and new spouses. I'm only now getting to know a guy I can see myself dating past Christmas. For me, that's a huge step. In my eyes, I'm growing up.

We're all supposed to be different and therefore incapable of making the same decisions at the same time, but when your clubbing friends are busy making dinner for their families on Friday night you have to wonder if there is a secret age for adulthood. When should growing old and growing up coincide?