Geomedia: AKA The Class I Get To Do Fun Projects In

King of the World: The Globalization of Titanic on Prezi

Senior year is the year that most college students get to take goof off classes. And I didn't, mine are all serious, but they are all pretty fun in some way or form. I get to listen to music in Popular Music in the Rock Era, I get to talk about everything from novels to burlesque in History of US Pop Culture, I get to learn another language in Italian, and I get to write about pottery for 6000 words in Narrative.

Actually, that last one might suck a little.

But I get to do fun stuff like this presentation for Geomedia.

Mo Finals, Mo Problems

As nervous as I am about the real world next year, I'm really super psyched that I will no longer have to write 12-15 pages about stuff I'm sick of talking about.

In the next two to three weeks, I will need to finish that paper (which by now is done and ready to be turned in), do a multimedia presentation — which includes a video, audios slideshow, audio standalone, still photos, text, maps, graphs, and interactives, write two essays for Holocaust, write two longer essays for Magical Realism (one of which is due next week, one of which is due during finals), and take a test in Italian.

Grumble grumble grumble grumble.

Amishville USA

I haven't seen my little sister Corinne since August, so going to get her tonight is sort of awesome. The problem here is that she lives in Bumble. And not just any bumble. She goes to Lebanon Valley College in Annville PA, in the heart of the Amish community.

I kid you not. When we decided when to pick her up for Thanksgiving break, we had to take into consideration that Wednesday is Amish meeting (church) night and that there would be mad buggy traffic going to her school. That's how Amish her school is.

I'm making a bet with Corinne that we'll see like 12 carriages tonight. Any takers?

In Ithaca, Comrade Finds You

So I was walking through Park the other day innocently enough, just going to the bathroom/taking a breather from Multi and out of nowhere I see my ex walking up the stairs.

We say hi, exchange some pleasantries, the like. I have nothing against the guy. I just, you know...

...thought he graduated.

The beauty of breaking up with someone and them graduating is that you don't see them again. And then in your school he pops up because he's dating another girl (who's really fun).

I just want to walk through Park and know that I won't run into people, you know?

The 12 Days of Chicken

We somehow managed to buy a ton of chicken here. I mean really. We have a 10 pound bag and then the Costco stuff we just got the other day before fall break. So our freezer right now is chock full of poultry.

And deer meat, which...

So we are involuntarily going through what we call the 12 Days of Chicken. Sort of like the 12 Days of Christmas, but with meat.

And without the gifts.

Or the ham. (Yeah, ham!)

Priorities, Italy. Priorities!

As you all probably know by now, I've been taking Italian this semester to get in touch with my roots and learn a new language — which for me, geek that I am, is actually pretty fun. So far, we've learned a few verbs, the descriptions of people, how to say family members and how to introduce ourselves, count, say where we're from, and talk about sports. Right now we're learning about technology and how to talk about computers.

What I would like to know is how in the first 100 pages of our book we have learned almost nothing about Italian food.

Seriously. I don't know anyone who has gone out of their way to purchase an Italian laptop. They're not really known for their technological advancements. They are world known for their delicious, meat-filled and sauce-smothered pasta and cuisine. So at this point in my Italian class, I can tell you all the members of my family and talk about a football game. But I can't order myself dinner? Whuh?

I Guess I Look Trustworthy?

So this past weekend, John, Brooke and Eric came up to visit, which is sort of awesome. Got to go to Applefest and do the usual Ithaca stuff, but we decided to make a field trip up to Canada to see Niagara Falls from their side of things (meaning the clean side with the Horseshoe, not the lame parts).

So going there and coming back, we had to get our passports checked, which we did without complaint. On the way there, they pretty much didn't ask that many questions. Because they're Canadian, and they don't really think people care enough to bomb them. On the way back into the US, they questioned everyone hardcore. Made them take glasses off, confirm their middle names, ask birthdays, the usual. Everyone but me.

This is the third time this has happened to me. When I went into Germany, I got a quick visual scrutiny from Hans and Franz behind the counter, a stamp proclaiming I had entered through Schoenfeld International Airport, and I was on my way.

When I came back from 5 months abroad, I didn't get a second look coming back through Newark Liberty Airport. The guy looked at me, gave me a quick "How you doin'?" and a stamp and nudged me through security with my huge bag in tow. Not a look, not a question, it's like he saw my Italian last name and my New Jersey birthplace on my passport and figured I was legit.

When we came through Canada, I was the only person in the car that didn't get asked anything. John got asked if he was bringing stuff back through (a hat and a mug), how we all knew each other (high school friends), and how long we had been there (like 4 hours). Brooke got asked to confirm her name and got a visual scan —meaning the customs guy was checking her out. Eric got asked to take off his glasses, confirm his middle name, and confirm his birthday. I got asked no questions, they simply smiled at me and handed back my passport.

I find it amusing and sort of frightening that security doesn't seem to pick up on me. I mean, I have nothing to hide, really. But you never know. Certainly makes traveling to foreign countries easier, though.

Now Panic and Freak Out

So following all the terrible attacks on college campuses, Ithaca College decided to institute this loud-ass siren and alert system to let us know if there's a crazed axe murderer or bandit on campus. And I gotta tell you, I really appreciate this. It's nice to know where to run and hide in case there's a crazy on the loose.

I've thankfully never heard this used in a real emergency, but the testing is pretty freaking scary, I gotta tell you. I was sitting innocently enough upstairs in Emerson on my laptop when out of nowhere this loud siren goes off:

"THIS IS A TEST OF THE EMERGENCY RESPONSE SYSTEM. THIS IS ONLY A TEST. WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWOOOOO
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO."

And then after that, everyone's phones started going off at the same time, like The Ring. Everyone who signed up for it (which is like everyone) gets texts and phone calls and e-mails about the test of the system, or of the system going off itself.

But holy shit, was that scary.

Blatant Boob References vs. Bringing A Dog

It's sort of a tradition in Ithaca that when it's still warm out (meaning the first two weeks of school, usually until Labor Day), everyone flocks to the gorges to swim, cliff jump, tan, drink, and smoke away from campus. It's always packed with girls attempting to show off their bikini bodies to any other willing college boy and/or townie, and guys trying to straddle the line between badass and dumbass while jumping off cliffs and avoiding serious injury.

I myself have done this with more success than most of the frat boys that do the same. That little blob in the red bikini jumping off the 65 foot cliff at Six Mile? All me, baby.

So when I went to Six Mile to do some swimming with Dave and KellyPaul last Saturday that really, everyone there was trying to get some play. And they weren't even subtle about it.

As we were sititng on the steps, this adorable black lab jumped into the lake and started paddling towards us.

"Her name's Chelsea," said this cute townie with too many tattoos for my taste. Although the back one was crazy; he had a spine tattooed on his spine. The dog must've known his owner's intentions, because she cozied up to every girl in a bikini in the place, melting hearts and getting her master an in. I personally thought this was adorable, because I love dogs and happen to have a cute one of my own.

Dave was laughing his ass off at this, saying "Dude, this guy is shameless. He's using a dog to get girls. That is blatant."

Just as he said this, about three semi-good looking girls (I admit it, they were pretty) saying "Oh my God, my suit is like soooooooooooo see-through!"
"I know, I should've worn one that isn't white!"

Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay to be subtle, ladies.

The One Time I Wish Mom Went With "Alessandra"

I was sitting in Italian class learning how to ask people's names and how to respond (In this case, "Come ti chiame?" to ask "What's your name?" and "Mi chiamo _________" to answer). We all answered back, and then we learned the alphabet.

The issue here is that there are only 21 letters in the Italian alphabet, and "X" is not one of them.

Kelly had the same problem, since there's no "K" in the Italian language (they go with the hard C there, so I don't know what her Italian equivalent would be).

But then I remember talking to Mom and asking her what names she and Dad were considering for me when naming me, and she (shockingly, to me) mentioned that Alessandra was briefly in the running. Which, in this particular instance, would've made things a little easier.

This is not to say I don't like my name. Really, I do love it. It's not often that I use the whole 4 syllables of it (Alexandra), but I do use it in my bylines for the Ithacan and on my resume. It's used for what my Mom wanted: She wanted a name with lots of nicknames that looked good on leterhead (and to be honest, Alexandra Palombo looks pretty awesome, if not intimidating to a 5 year old learning how to spell for the first time). I use Alex because my parents have called me that since I was born.

But really. Mom? Dad? For the purposes of this blog post and this class? Alessandra. Just saying.

Lots of Jewish Conversations Today

Earlier in the day, Morgan and I were talking in our Holocaust class about how we didn't really plan on havng the class together. She said the following little gem:

"I was going to write on your wall something like, 'I can't wait to see you! Yay Holocaust!' and then I was like, 'Wait...'"

And now later in the day, I start talking to Madeleine online and the IM happened. To put this a little in context, earlier in the conversation both me and Madeleine were talking about how her classes start on September 8th, which this year is Rosh Hashanah. Which then led us to talking about growing up with Jewish people - or not, in my case.

New School Year, No Slacking On The Blog

Okay, so I was a little busy this summer. You know, working 2 jobs plus and all. But that's no excuse for not posting for all 3 months. So now that I'm back at school and have things to procrastinate, I'm thinking that posting every now and then might be nice. I'm considerate that way.

That said, I still have nothing up on my walls really. Which is upsetting for me, because by now they're usually completely covered.

Now With 100% Less Wisdom Teeth!

It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.

I went to get the much dreaded surgery done on Friday morning, after hearing many many horror stories of chipmunk cheeks and feeling funny. So after they put the awkward hair net and the blood bib on me, they left for like an hour, leaving my Mom and I like no good magazines to read and nothing much to do in that room. Then Dr. Doherty walks in all calm, looking very tan and blonde and friendly, shoots me up with something, and the next thing I remember is waking up asking Mom the same like 3 questions over and over in the recovery room.

After sleeping for like 2 hours on an ice pack I woke up feeling fine and hungry. A bowl of Jell-O pudding and some pain meds later, I was good to go. To the point where the same day I got them out, I was at the pool hanging out with Corinne and her motley crew. No swelling, no illness, no wisdom teeth.

I mean, yeah, I was on the pudding-pasta diet for like 3 days, which was fun for like a minute. And I hated the gauze mouth bit, it felt really weird. But it was an awesome excuse to not go to work, and I feel pretty good.

The One Name Power Surge

I was checking my e-mail today (all of the addresses, as sad as that is) and I realized that my work e-mail is alex@southendlabour.com.

And for some reason, that just made me feel really important. I didn't need a last name, I didn't need anything more than "Alex." People would get e-mails from me and know who it was. And for some reason, that just made me feel really important. Maybe I'm easily flattered, but is that so wrong?

Midterms, Unfortunately, are International

I gotta tell you, I'm really not feeling this whole "midterm" thing.

See, it's not as bad in the US when I have to write them because I have the class more than once a week, and therefore feel like I've learned enough about what to write about (and enough about the teacher to know how they would like it written so as to ensure me a good grade).

Here you meet the teacher once a week. So after 6 classes with these people, they're like "Right, so. Paper."

Pardon Me, Have You Seen A Group of Americans?

So last night was the first time I got to go to Imperial College's pub just around the corner on Prince Consort Road. Didn't know if I had to get cute or not, but I gotta tell you, that was an experience.

I went with the girls downstairs (Kaitlyn, Katie, and their roommate whose name escapes me), which was nice because I usually never hang out with them. Oddly enough, I was with them for maybe a half hour before I tried to join the table of guys. They were playing some drinking game which I didn't get, so I took like 2 sips of my drink and left. I made the right decision, ended up at the bar talking to this guy named John. Turns out he's one of the higher ups in their student union, really sweet, and has good taste in music.

That was around the time I lost the people I came with. So after grabbing John's number and saying goodbye, I had to go through this packed college pub, filled with drunken sportsmen trying to get laid by American girls, to find my group.

Unfortunately, the "Have you seen a group of pretty American girls?" didn't work out too well.

Blue Eyed Brits

I want to tell everyone here that the stereotype of the Blue Eyed British Boy (BEBB) isn't for no reason.

I too thought this was a myth perpetuated by handsome ones like the Hughs Grant and Laurie, but it's totally not. Elise and I noticed that in the last few days.

Literally every other guy we walked past (unless they were from Asia or the subcontinent) were blue eyed. I want to know how this happened. Is it the inbreeding? Is it because it's an island with not many people? I want to know why, and how this can happen in the USA. I would like to take that secret back through customs and apply it back home.

For Your Entertainment

So I was sitting through my journalism block today and I kept thinking: what did kids do for entertainment during class before portable laptops?

I mean really. When you're not paying attention to your teacher (much), you can be "researching." And by "researching," I mean looking up stuff on Stumble Upon, reading up on BBC or EW or the Guardian or whatever to supplement that awesome internship you got. Or sending e-mails. Or playing Sporcle.

I don't always bring my laptop with me to classes, because it's not always worth the trouble of lugging the thing and the power chord with me everywhere. And last year, Sarah and I made do just fine during our News I class by playing an epic championship of the Box Dot Game. But seriously. Before laptops, how did kids sit through their boring college classes? I want to know. I would also like to thank Mac for creating my lovely little piece of tech heaven.

Newsroom Drama. Video at 11.

We need to talk about all the nonsense going on in my News class. Because at this point, the class drama is more interesting than the news we're covering.

We would cover it, but it's a conflict of interest.

It was all brewing at the beginning of the semester when our professor that we were supposed to have went to another college. We got reassigned to the professor we have now, who is a great person but teaches in a style that doesn't really work for me. And it's a class full of really ambitious people that are willing to step on others' toes to get what they want (unfortunately). So when we stepped into the studio, I knew stuff would get ugly after a while.

And it did. It started with some pretty catty e-mails that got sent to the entire class, which started one of the most middle school fights I've ever seen (since the Facebook fight between two other people last year). One of the parties involved didn't come to class today, so she missed Drama #2.

This one started when we walked into class. The teacher passed us a handout, which Meg and I immediately thought was the e-mail battle that had somehow gotten back to her (judging by one girl's face, I thought we were all in for it). Turned out it was the teacher telling us we weren't doing a newscast on Friday, that we were having a test on Monday, an essay due then, and that our work had been for nothing.

Which, really, Meg and I hadn't done work yet on the package, but still, everyone else had.

Turned into a few people basically saying what the whole class was thinking to the teacher (that we were wasting time and that we really needed that studio time, and that we were really offended that we weren't learning more and all that). C had to step out, I asked S to go check on her, and I took a bathroom break to walk around and not be in that room because...drama.

I mean, I'm not going to rag on Park as much as Meg did (although I do agree with a lot of what she says). I know that there are teachers that know what they're doing and teach really well. I just haven't had all of them. But really, can we just do a newscast and save the drama for your mama? I want this semester to end with me sort of knowing what I'm doing in a control room and with an A plus or minus average. Not much to ask! Why so much of this shit?

Kleptos Anonymous

My name is Alex, and I'm an accidental klepto.

Let me explain.

I was in the library today to kill an hour or so before swimming (there's this weird lag between Personal Essay and open swim). So I went to the library and hung out, catching up on Newsweek and Time, checking e-mails, surfing randomly to find something for Cake's Artist to Watch page. I was putting back my Time and Newsweek when the TV Guide caught my eye (because DILF Hugh Laurie was on the front).

I read it, stuck it in my bag, and went to swim. Not even really realizing that it belonged to the library.

Cut to 4 hours later when I'm in our apartment bathroom and I see an uncharacteristically generic-looking roll of toilet paper on the back of the throne. I ask Monica about it, and she's like, "Oh, I took it from campus center today. I don't want to use ours up." She somehow managed to jimmy the toilet paper holders open with a pen.

I want to say I'm shocked and outraged at her blatant theivery, but really, I'm proud. We pay $50 grand a year to come here. They can spare us some paper products or an accidental magazine.