Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Vampires Don't Make Sense.

Vampires don't make sense. 

Take my hand as I explore the reasons why I don't understand how vampires function (with the help of some of my friends.)

First of all, a disclaimer:

I'm just saying: Have you ever watched True Blood? I don't know when I've ever seen so many beautiful people on screen. And so many six packs. Helloooooooooooooo bare male torsos. 

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a big vampire fan, though. I never watched "Buffy" or "Angel" or anything like that, but I did read a lot as a kid. And I read a lot of vampire stories. Sure, I started out reading Nancy Drew, but then I jumped right to R.L. Stine's Fear Street books (the "scarier" version of Goosebumps) and was absolutely obsessed with Christopher Pike's The Last Vampire series. 
Oh, Sita. You were the original dark and twisty character that I fell in love with. And the first vampire that piqued my interest-- which brings us to a few questions that I have:

*My friend Jonny pointed out to me that being disgusting doesn't necessarily keep zombies from being a sex machines, as demonstrated in this disturbing clip from "Dead Alive": http://www.youtube.com/wat​ch?v=2T8PWUgrVeA. Seriously, watching that made me want to puke. 

And then there's the question of vampire deaths. Vamps are some tough mamma jammas. 

So how am I supposed to believe that pesky little things can kill them off? Vampire lore is expansive and inconsistent, and there are about a million weird ways that vampires are said to be destroyed. They vary from convincing (decapitation!) to ridiculous (running water?). I found this fantastic chart comparing the top 50 vampires that covers vamp destruction in addition to other things (e.g., fangs, powers, reflections, etc): http://io9.com/5391215/top-50-vampires-the-ultimate-score-sheet.

And last but not least, the most adult of all things vampire that don't make sense:
Clearly, I watch "True Blood" so I'm not complaining or asking too many questions, but if vampires are supposed to be so damned sexy the topic needs to be explored.
Wikipedia has an extensive explanation of sexual reproduction-- feel free to visit it if you haven't had "the talk" just yet. What I'm interested in is how sex works:

So, if sperm needs to be a certain temperature, then it certainly wouldn't survive vampirism. Fine, I'll give you that. No vampire babies. That doesn't necessarily mean no vampire sex.

Beyond that, to get scientific some more, penises need blood to be erect and actually perform the act of intercourse. If vampires are dead, how does that happen? In True Blood they explain that vampires "are the blood" or however they put it, so I suppose even that makes sense. But that leads to another problem:


Even if you can get past the necrophilia (I mean, they look alive, right?), there are other issues to deal with. Vampires are full of blood. Vampires can't make sperm. Ergo, when a vampire climaxes...

That makes that scene from "There's Something About Mary" even more troubling.

So many questions, but I'm sorry to say I offer only one answer:

Like I've said before, when I can't find a logical explanation for something, I know for true it must be magic.

Puts a whole new twist on True Blood's season 4 plot, huh?

Saturday, July 23, 2011

The Day I DID Get My Hair Cut

So many adventures, so little time.

A few weeks ago, I shared a story about the day I couldn't get my hair cut and then madness ensued... I'm sure you've been concerned: Did LeeAnne ever get her hair cut?! Inquiring minds want to know!

So stop fretting! I did, in fact, get my hair cut, and that story makes me chuckle as well...

You may remember that Mother Nature seemed to have a personal vendetta against my attempts to manage my mane...

The extreme weather didn't stop, by the way. Another week passed after my previous attempt and the rain and tornado warnings kept up. I was about to give up and take matters into my own hands, like one of my favorite train wrecks:

Fortunately, I didn't have to go that route. I finally lost my mind and called around to find a salon that would cut my hair. Tornado or not, my windswept hairs would at least be short if  the weather took me out.

I arrived at the salon despite ominous clouds and fell in love:
You'd think that phrase would be expected in a salon, but I was traumatized. Anyone offering to cut my hair at this point was an angel on earth.

I changed my opinion about the "angel" bit pretty soon after I arrived though.

Rude comment, yes. But I was so happy to be getting my hair done that I didn't care. Even though it did some damage to my ego, I let out a feeble "yes" just to appease her so she would would cut my hair. She was probably right: my eyebrows were so untamed that she might have mistaken them for caterpillars or a furry headband or rascally kittens. I couldn't fault her for that.

While I was getting my eyebrows waxed, the lights flickered a few times. The thunder was, well, thunderous. I was getting really nervous, but she was just chat, chat, chatting away. To calm my anxiety, I interrogated her before we moved on to the actual slicing and dicing.

I was in heaven. Chatty, chatty heaven.

Things were going as normal despite the tumultuous weather. Even after the sirens sounded, I considered myself in good shape.

I'm not sure why the siren sounded like it was really excited, but it didn't affect my hair stylist. She kept up the chit chat to my monosyllabic responses: "Yes," "no," "wow," and "huh."

But that chit chat came to a screeching halt.

Call me sensitive, but I didn't really know what to do with that. What am I? 

Sookie Stackhouse would say "I'm a waitress." That would make me a housing professional? That doesn't even mean anything to this lady. Was she confused about my gender? I'm a woman. About my legal status? I'm a US Citizen. About my mood? Content, until that split second.

I knew what she meant, but I still wasn't sure how to respond:

I, of course, chose to be difficult. When people are rude, I like to make them uncomfortable. That's probably not healthy, but I am what I am. The conversation went something like...

      "Excuse me? I'm not sure what you mean."
      "Well, what are you? Where are you from?"
      "I already told you, I live just down the block. I work at the university."
      "No, no, no. Where are you originally from?"
      "Oh! I was born in northeastern Ohio."
      "No, I mean, WHAT ARE YOU?"
      "Oh, you mean my ethnicity?"
      "I'm half Vietnamese. My dad is white, my mom is Vietnamese. They met in the war."
      "Huh. I don't think so. You're Polynesian."
      "Or maybe Hawaiian. Definitely. I lived in Bowling Green and I saw a lot of you people."

Oh yeah, that rude all right. But that horrifying conversation ended with shorter hair, at least.

I was happy again, so I tried to forget about the conversation and just have myself a nice evening.

Then I walked outside.

Mother nature still rained on my parade. Literally. 

So help me, I may never get my hair cut again.

Monday, July 4, 2011

July 4th Celebration Guide

Happy July 4th, everybody! I thought I'd share a handy guide to celebrating the holiday right.

As usual, I'd like to start with a disclaimer. Who am I write a guide and make suggestions about how you celebrate Independence Day? The nerve of me!

All I have to say is that I may be...
...But I'm
So don't you forget it.

Let the guide begin!

Saturday, July 2, 2011

Things I Say at Work... Duty Phone Edition

Since I'll be heading to New Orleans for the ACUHO-I Annual Conference in a week, I thought it would be appropriate to share a post that my res life friends will appreciate!

I say lots of weird things at work and I try to take note or make the little comic panel after they happen so I have a little stockpile of funny things to post if I don't have a funny story to tell. I've only worked in the res life realm for a couple of years, so I just have to say: If you think THESE are funny, you need to talk to my colleagues. I guarantee they have better stories.

First, for those of you who aren't familiar with on-call schedules or duty phones, let me paint you a picture (aka draw you a crappy illustration in photoshop):
When the duty phone rings, it is undoubtedly 3AM (+/- an hour or two) and I am in a dead sleep. The person on the other end of the line is presumably awake, alert, and all jazzed up from responding to some sort of situation. I, on the other hand, consider myself lucky if I even hear the phone ring, in which case it takes me a few moments to recognize the sound and then that little sense of panic sets in. Once I answer, the other person usually starts rattling off what's going on, what they need me for, etc. I, of course, respond with a very professional, "Wait, what?" Then they explain again. Then I try to respond with some logical, University-approved response.

Needless to say, this is the perfect storm for funny/strange conversations. Here are just a few...
 My least favorite duty call is the 3AM update. If you're just updating me, couldn't you email me or call at a time when I might feasibly be awake?

Worse than that is the pointless update. I literally got a call from a new security officer once just to tell me he saw someone fall off a bike and he thought it was funny. No squad run. No injuries. Just hilarity, I guess. I don't appreciate undergoing heart palpitations for this kind of call.
Bet you haven't been asked to be a bat bagger at work. 

This was a legitimate call, and I clearly wasn't particularly helpful. An HR called to ask me to catch a bat in his hall. Some people don't do windows; I don't do germ-infested bats. Imagine a dozen first year women shrieking in the background and you've got an accurate picture. 

I just find it funny that anybody would think that they could call and make this request of me. Ask me what to do, perfectly natural. Tell me to bust out bat-catching skills? Sorry, buddy, they didn't cover that in grad school! I'll gladly tell you who to call instead!

*Note this story is often repeated, though the animals may change. Birds and squirrels are popular characters!

The return phone call. I see a missed call, I call back, this happens. Lesson learned? My staff is full of jerks. ;)
 I'll never understand why people pee anywhere but in toilets. 

Also, I'd like to take a moment to point out that the duty phone is a cell phone, but that my poor drawing skills made the cell phone look like a blob on my face. Do they even make phones that look like this anymore?

Bet you've never said this at work. Weird trying to explain different levels of PDA to a 20-yr-old. That's what I do as a student affairs administrator: I educate. :)

Like I said, I have friends who have much funnier stories than mine-- if you're looking to be entertained, call up an old RA and ask him/her to share their most ridiculous res life story. 

Happy July, everybody!