I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm getting just a little bit sick of this "winter" bullshit. I mean, the nasty piles of snow polluted with that foul mystery sludge, the bitter cold air that causes my nose to turn as red as my drunk Irish compatriots in Boston, the ice that I'm destined to someday break a bone on - it's all getting really, really old. Each day, weather.com gives me the unhappy news: below freezing, snow showers, spring is never coming, you pathetic wench, so suck my balls.

You see, I know all those high and mighty meteorologists are secretly mocking me. Who are you to tell me to wear a sweater today, you pretentious ass? I'll bring an umbrella because I want to, not because you told me to with poorly manufactured sympathy in your voice. You're so smug with your fancy clicker, your local radar, your crappy elevator music.

I will freely admit that my dislike for the meteorologists comes from the terrible example one man set for his profession during my formative years. That man was none other than Gary Ley, local weatherman on Channel 10 Providence. To my eight-year old mind, he was a bona fide celebrity. He was on TV! He could predict the future (or at least, a 10-90% chance of the future)! And did I mention that he was on TV?!

One night, as my weather-obsessed Dad tuned in to the local news, Gary Ley was doing a segment called "Weather in the Classroom" where he went into a school. I'd imagine that there was some sort of lesson about the weather involved, but the kids also got to be on TV, too. Suddenly, inspiration struck. If I could bring "Weather in the Classroom" and Gary Ley to my school, I would be a hero and a television star (I was a shameless ham, even back then). I crafted a request complete with an early 90's clip art picture of a man who did not resemble Gary Ley at all, but I thought it might tug at his heartstrings, anyway. Then I realized that Gary Ley doesn't have heartstrings.

To his credit, Gary Ley did leave a message on my answering machine, and I felt like such a badass. I called him back (it was quite stressful for me to call up such a luminary of local TV, but I managed to muster up my courage), and he talked to both myself and my mom. The real reason that Gary Ley wanted to talk to Nancy Trudel? He couldn't bring himself to break up with me in person. He gave her some lame excuse about being "too busy" to come to our little town, and told her that "maybe it would work out some time in the future, when [I] don't have to, um, wash my hair." That might not be exactly what he said, but you get the gist.

And so, any fledgling interest I may have developed in the weather was crushed by the iron fist of a cruel meteorologist who didn't have time to help a little girl realize her dream of the week. Instead of being interested in weather phenomena, I have joined the ranks of the grumbling peasants who bitch and moan about the snow and make banal comments like, "it's not the heat, it's the humidity!" The weather is now something I must cope with...and I'll be coping at the bar. Thanks for driving me to drink, Gary Ley. Maybe you aren't such a tool, after all.



- posted by Trudes @ 4:19 PM

 
Bad Sassmaster! You go ON the paper!

Eh, I'll forego my traditional "I suck for not posting" paragraph and cut right to the chase.

As a connoiseur of the public transportation system, I engage in quite a bit of people watching. As I steal furtive glances at my fellow passengers, trying to avoid eye contact and looking quickly and awkwardly away as soon as eye contact occurs, I notice recurring character types. If you've ever taken the subway, you might be familiar with some of these folks.

Crazy, but (Hopefully) Harmless Guy He rambles loudly and incoherently about "the man", sharing his favorite conspiracy theories with those within earshot. He gets a platform because everyone's keeping an eye on him, just to make sure nothing explosive happens. And of course, he *always* gets off at my stop, causing me to fear a Taxi Driver-esque obsession.

Shrill Girl on Cell Phone "Oh my God! I can't even believe it! I was talking to Maria and she said that Jill totally wants him! HEEHEEHEEHEEHEE!" Um, shut up. I hate that girl, and I have never, ever been her. OK, maybe once or twice. But I know that everyone on the train secretly loved overhearing my exciting conversations!

Guy Who's Looking to Score He looks around, smiling at everyone who makes accidental eye contact with him to show what a friendly and completely harmless creature he is. He begins forced conversations with girls around him encompassing as much small talk and fake laughter as possible (but at least he doesn't resort to "come here often?" or lame pick-up lines) Occassionally, he gets a number, and sometimes, I sort of cheer him on - unless, of course, he's talking to me. Then I bust out the boyfriend card first chance I get.

America's Next Top Model Wannabe There she is, pursing her lips, in all her heavily made-up, pointy-shoed, dyed-haired glory. I like watching this girl and speculating about whether she's had collagen implants or something equally gross.

Attention Seeker Ah, the star of the train comes in many incarnations. Once, she was a drag queen who strutted across the car like Paris Hilton, began singing loudly in falsetto and gyrating against one of the walls with her ass to the crowd, and eventually jumped up on the seats to get her groove back. Other times, someone is preachin' the Good News (and sometimes, it's quite compelling - the trick is to not breathe between words to give anyone a chance to interject or think). Either way, I sort of appreciate the diversion and the way they've spiced up my ride.


And don't even get me started on the bus...

In other sassy news, perhaps my doe-eyed readers would be interested to know that today's our anniversary. We're off to celebrate 4 years of ass-kickin' with a meal that's way classier than we are. And they said it wouldn't last! (Actually, nobody said that to my knowledge, but it's sort of fun to say anyway.)

Also, go Pats!


- posted by Trudes @ 4:18 PM

 
Now that NaNo WriMo is over, I expect to be popping in here much more frequently (hopefully motivating my wayward sister in the process). Let me provide my lonesome readers with a brief synopsis of what I've been up to since the last time I popped in here:

1. An Accidental Visit to a Gay Bar - Scott and I were slightly tipsy from the killer margaritas we had at a Mexican restaurant (named "Killer Margaritas", strangely enough), and were lookin' to get our drink on. On the way home, we stumbled into a dark little bar, grabbed some seats, and ordered our beers. Only then did we notice the steamy make-out session that was in progress between the two guys next to us. A friendly bartender (with a rather impressive mustache) and a drag queen named Toya befriended us, checked out Scotty, and did shots with us. They sent us away with a lovely parting gift of about 50 condoms and a vivid mental picture of the proper use of a cock ring.

2. Whirlyball! - A craaazy little sport that combines bumper cars, basketball, jai alai, and best of all, booze. We had four teams rotating in and out for two straight hours of intense Whirlyball madness. Although I had a bit of trouble driving my car forward and not hitting the wall in the first round, I got the hang of it and got drunk enough not to care about crashes in subsequent rounds. I highly recommend the sport.

3. East Coast! - An all-too-brief stint at home, where I stuffed myself on Trudel Thanksgiving goodness, spent some quality time with the fam, saw waaaay too many people from the Tiv (along with some that I'm always glad to see), saw waaaay too few people from HC, and found myself back in Chi-town before I even had time to blink. I'll be back for Christmas, and I'm definitely excited to head out!

Now that I've filled you all in to the gripping details of my fast-paced life in the city, we'll return to business as usual in future entries. In the meantime, leave me some love in the comments section so I know that I'm not just typing to myself...
- posted by Trudes @ 8:07 PM

 
There's going to be some changes 'round here...

Exciting news, readers! Many of you (and by many, I mean at least two) have complained to me of late about the lack of new material in the blog. NaNo WriMo has been taking up most of my words these days, so I expect to be popping in here a lot more once that wraps up. However, in order to provide some more material for your procrastinating pleasure, I'm happy to announce a bold, new blogging partnership. My dear sister, proprietor of her own neglected blog, will also be popping in here from time to time to bestow upon you the patented Trudel wit and charm. You can still expect to see posts from me about the trials of my grown-uppery, but they'll be mixed with a splash of reckless college abandon, just to keep the party rolling. Any suggestions for new names for the blog can be posted in the comments section.

Two Trudels. One blog. The possibilities are endless!
- posted by Trudes @ 2:16 PM

 
If you're still out there, then you are to be commended for your dedication, love for me, and good looks. I apologize for the suckitude that is my blog-writing of late, and vow to drop in here more frequently to inspire my stalwart readers with tales of my fast-paced and exciting adventures. Also, I think Rachel is going to kill me in my sleep if I don't start posting more. I take her threats seriously ever since the time she attempted to smother me with a pillow on Christmas Day. A real sweet gal, my murderous sis is.

So, I may be completely insane or a sucker for punishment, but I've decided that this year I'm going to attempt NaNo WriMo. The goal is to write a 50,000 word novel during the month of November. Creative writing is something that I've always wanted to do more of, but something that I probably wouldn't ever get around to without a reason to do it. Deadlines have always been the sole motivating factor for me to get anything done, so that aspect of the event appeals to me. The goal of NaNo WriMo is quantity, not quality, which takes away the impulse to be too critical of my first shot at this sort of thing. As for my subject matter, I'm not entirely sure what that will involve yet. They say to write what you know, so I'm thinking about writing the quintessential coming-of-age novel about college. I don't know if I'll actually be able to meet the 50,000 word goal, but I'm going to try to give it an honest effort. I'll keep you all updated about my progress!

And, finally, I bring you another disparity between my college world and my new grown-up life:

College Girl Talk: "Who's going to the party? Do my boobs look good in this shirt? Who was at the party? Who hooked up with whom at the party? Who was a drunken mess? Do you remember dancing on the bar and trying to make out with Stephen Ainlay?"

Workplace Girl Talk: (NOTE: This conversation is based entirely in an actual event that I happened to be awkwardly present for, and unable and unwilling to participate in.) "I had no idea that my breasts would be able to produce so much milk!" "It's really amazing! You can train your breasts to do anything! I learned how to produce milk only at certain times of the day." "I don't really use a breast pump, though. Did you?"

This week, I was comforted by the fact that I am definitely not enough of a grown-up to handle discussions about breast milk.
- posted by Trudes @ 7:03 PM

 
"No thanks!"

From what I hear, Scott's Candid Camera appearance was a brilliant four-second display of comedic mastery. Unfortunately, we were unable to tune in, because we are wannabe granola-crunchin', tree-huggin' hippies with no cable. My mom taped it for us, so we'll get to see Scott's exciting, almost-network TV debut later this week.

The dinner party was a smashing success, if I do say so myself. Nothing was burnt or disgusting, and our guests seemed to enjoy everything we made. And, it wasn't a completely grown-up evening, as we proceeded to get ourselves good and sloshed after the meal. I'll dip my toes in the waters of grown-uppery, but I'm not willing to plunge all the way in just yet and have an entirely respectable evening.

This week: the children arrive for classes. I prepare to feel really old, out of touch, and uncool. Also, if anyone tries to call me "Ms. Trudel", I'm going to cry. I think it's only a matter of time.


- posted by Trudes @ 7:43 PM

 
In keeping with the theme of this blog, I present to you some things that I've noticed so far about the differences between college life and grown-uppery. If my completely absorbed readers dig it, I may make it a regular feature of this exciting blog!

College Party: Kegger - It's standard fare, really. Long lines to the keg and bathroom, sticky floor, plastic cups as far as the eye can see. Other classic components include a Beirut list that nobody follows, music loud enough to piss off the neighbors, and at least one couple (even if only for that one night) that won't stop with the slobbery PDAs. Food is rarely involved, unless it's in the form of jello shots, a roasted pig, or post-party late night delivery. (Maura's mom once gave her money to buy chips for our parties, and we all thought it was the best joke ever.)

Grown-Up Party: Dinner Party - Fun in a different way. There's still booze, but never from a common source. Plastic cups are replaced with bottles of boy beer and wine glasses. I drink everyone under the table by having three glasses of wine. The music is classy and played quietly in the background in order to stimulate meaningful conversation. Food is the main event. And yes, we're throwing one next week. (I don't know enough people to have a kegger! I'm still fun, I swear!)

College Attire: Casual/Slutty During the daytime, I wore the "I've Given Up On Life" uniform. Sweatpants, sweatshirts, sweaters, and all clothes containing the word "sweat" in the description. Shower before class? Ha! At night, I transformed into SuperSkank. Cleavage, those jeans with a line down the front, lots of Delilah black, and Maura's famous red belt. In that outfit, I was ready to grind with Woo-Rats!

Grown-Up Attire: Business Casual All sensible, all the time. Khakis, black pants, blouses, and nothing that would be inappropriate for the kiddies or invite a sexual harrassment lawsuit.

College Bedtime - "You're not going to bed! Booooo! Stay up, you loser! It's only 4am!"

Grown-up Bedtime - Zzzzzzzz.....

- posted by Trudes @ 5:37 PM