22 things for 21 years

As I sit here typing this, 3 important things have occurred since my last post. 1. I survived the most horrendous round of finals I have ever had (altho it doesn't come close to the week before spring break Junior year) 2. I am 21 and 3. It's officially less than 3 months until I am windmill bound.

I would like to take this opportunity to tell you some random things about myself that you would never know despite my ridiculous blabbering. But, in the spirit of my birthday here's 21 things for the 21 years of my life.

1. I am extremely adept at doodling spirals.

2. When I was 11 (in the 5th grade) I won the Daughters of the American Revolution Essay Contest for the state of Florida.

3. My parents only bought me one stuffed animal my entire life. It is on my bed in Cville, and it's name is Dog.

4. I read, on average, over 100 books a year.

5. I love roadtrips. And driving. And of course, cows.

6. In kindergarten I lived in Tennessee and my parents swear that they left the state because I was developing a twang.

7. I can tell you almost anything you want to know about Adams County, Ohio and the Great Serpent Mound.

8. I like to walk on top of monkey bars.

9. I never eat rice, except at Chipotle.

10. I used to play the viola, just so I could learn to play Pachelbel's Cannon.

11. I don't like nail polish.

12. I had a boys haircut until I was 13.

13. I find the sound of chalk offensive.

14. My two absolute favorite foods in the entire world are Publix fried chicken and Meijer donuts.

15. I really like NASCAR and Indy Car racing.

16. I wish my name was Lucy.

17. I truly believe the best place to go when you are sad/need a laugh/or on a first date is a Modern Art Museum.

18. I really like chemistry. Although I don't do anything with it.

19. I like to dance barefoot in the rain.

20. My favorite book in the entire world is Anne of the Island by L.M. Montgomery. I can quote passages to you. Followed closely in second by A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith. And of course Don Quixote, but that goes without mention.

21. My favorite word is impish.

And as my babcia would say, here's one more, since I have officially started by 22nd year of life.

22. If I could do anything in the entire world, I would work for a non-profit in South America as a grant writer.

Hasta pronto friends.

Am I writing a paper? No, I'm having an adventure.

Hello (un)faithful followers!

I have an anecdote that is noteworthy, involving my favorite place in Washington D.C., Georgetown University. Yes, the point has been made to me that I do not actually attend this establishment of higher learning, but when has that ever stopped me?

On Thursday I had two exams, and a paper due the next day. This paper required me to analyze 2 rather obscure sonnets that Lorca wrote in the last years of his life. Luckily, there is a book out there that helps with all the mythological references and seemingly random imagery - but alas it was checked out of Alderman. Folks, I NEEDED this book. It was imperative. So after a frantic google search, I learned that William and Mary, Washington and Lee, Georgetown, and the Library of Congress had copies. So I made the executive decision to drive to DC to get those 12 pages.

I made it downtown at about 7:30 pm, and tried to park on campus. This was an unintelligent move on my part, because there is literally no parking. So after being laughed at by the security guard who watched me drive in and drive out (she was literally like, honey I knew you wouldn't find anything), I attempted to park in what looked like a parking garage.

WRONG. It was a parking garage for buses because just as I tried to pull in a huge door opened and a bus drove out. So now I had caused this traffic jam. The bus driver called to me and asked if I was lost - I said I was looking for the parking garage. She told me where to go and essentially stopped traffic so I could awkwardly back out. Thanks Georgetown transit lady.

Finally I made it to the garage! But then the attendant in the security kiosk didn't want to let me in. She says: There is no overnight parking. I, in a desperate manner, try to explain that I don't want to park there overnight. I just want to park there an hour so I can photocopy 12 pages of literary analysis so that I can write a paper. I even showed her my envelope with the call number I frantically scribbled before I left my apartment. She was tentatively convinced, and told me I had one hour.

So I managed to park. I then attempted to find the library. I knew where it was in theory - it's the really ugly building on their main quad next to Healey Hall. I knew I had to go up - I just wasn't really sure where because they have a lot of construction and paths are blocked. So I ended up in front of the business school where these 3 asian guys were smoking. I was like, "Excuse me, where is the library?" They had no idea. They were like, on the other side of the campus. They gave no explicit instructions. So, still confused, I continued on my way until I ran into these four REALLY tall guys. I asked them where the library was, and seeing my confusion they walked me there. Thanks really nice, tall boys.

So I had arrived at the library. Success! Except the Georgetown library has a security guard and you have to swipe in with something called a GO-Card. I explained to the woman that I was not a Georgetown student, I go to UVA. I showed her my student ID. I desperately explained (using the envelope with the call number) that I just wanted to copy these 12 pages. She asked for my student ID, my drivers license, and took down all my info. By the time she finished documenting my presence there were like 20 people waiting to swipe into the library. Way to cause problems, Lexi.

But yes, I had made it. There I was, in the cradle of knowledge of my favorite school, despite its incredibly ugly facade. I took a moment to basque in the moment, and then I made my way to find the book. I found it. It was a magical moment. I cried on the inside. But then a problem presented itself - how will I made photocopies if I don't have this GO-Card. I went downstairs and was confused for a while, until some boy took pity on me and was like - you just insert change/dollar bills here. While I was slightly embarrassed that I showed such incompetence at my favorite school, this was a ephemeral thought and I was overcome by elation coupled with supreme stress. I photocopied my pages, said goodbye to the security desk woman - she inquired as to where I had obtained the goal of my quest. I showed her the pages. I left the parking garage (notice that I did not stay overnight, as I promised) and drove home.

I was supposed to get on the Key Bridge, but per usual got lost and so ended up passing the Kennedy Center, the ugliest building in Washington DC. I mean it seriously aesthetically displeasing. But I made it home, pages in hand, and I wrote that paper furiously.

What is the moral of this story, you might ask? Well there are a few. 1). Don't trust the Alderman recall system, because chances are if you really need the book the person won't return it. 2). It was probably a bad idea to wait so long to start, but I needed that book, and Alderman failed me. 3). Georgetown University just reaffirmed itself as my favorite school - it solves all problems.

So there you have it. Yes, I finished the paper. Yes, I clearly love Georgetown in a questionably unhealthy way. Yes, I am sleep deprived and possibly certifiably crazy because of finals. But my friends, for one hour of my college career I was a Georgetown Student, which is ironic that it happened in the week of my birthday. But that, too, is a long story. For now I will just say thank you ugly library, and Hoya Saxa.

hey, did you know there's a country called bhutan?

hello friends.

today an exciting thing happened. mr. andrew and i conquered the second grade. sort of. we...did not get conquered by the second grade, so in my book that is a victory. we made christmas tree ornaments and talked about candy canes.

as per usual, the primary reason i'm making this post is because..gasp..i have a spanish paper that i reallllllly don't want to write. i literally have done nothing else but work on this thing, and it still is an incoherent ramble of a draft/outline. i, in true grace fashion, am blaming the feminists. and maybe i'll just throw in technological determinism for kicks. yeah i don't know what that means either.

here's a thought - in my free time (i have a lot due to the procrastination) i have memorized the location and names of all 196 countries in the world. every single one. from kyrgyzstan to nauru to burkina faso to burundi to grenada. if you google sporcle countries of the world you should find it. even my brother nick only got a 173/196, and he has a photographic memory so it's like perpetual cheating. no, my perfect score was earned through a copious amount of wasted time and dedicated keyboard typing. oh the benefits of being under-motivated.

ok, not to harp, but this essay is really a downer. the boredom of calderon is almost as depressing as the actual depression of lorca in poeta en nueva york. read a translation if you haven't. oh also lorca was a homosexual. apparently so was walt whitman. and lorca was murdered by a firing squad outside Granada in 1936. i've been told i should have known this, i sat in the class for 4 months, but hey. living obliviously is an art form.

i have a strange desire to eat cheese. alas, i don't have any. but, this does remind me of cows, which suffices.

well it's 11:44, and this paper on what la tragedia calderoniana can tell us about the role of women in the spanish golden age remains unwritten. it beckons, calling "12 pages, 48 hours."

but, as a last statement, shout out to big fish if you clicked on the link and actually made it through an entire post. you made my day, even though i don't know it.