Dance Land, Anglo-SEXons, and the "A-Rod to the Bills" Trade

I just spent the last week held hostage by the Anderson Center Concert Theatre and Children’s Dance Theatre. Aka, I spent the week in the middle of a glitter explosion in the freezing cold wings of the Concert Theatre. I missed one class, skipped a lot of reading, missed two meetings, and had my mini-stapler attached to my hand. CDT’s own Miss Publicity 2004 is in a zombie like state.
Therefore, my entry this week will be another smorgasbord of random thoughts, seeing that I did nothing that merits a whole entry. I’ve spent the past half hour trying to find one unifying aspect to all of these things, and I can’t. Hence, I’m Peter King-ing it again. (Which is okay, because the man is a genius--why didn’t I start reading him earlier in my life? Although he has gotten a bit carried away with the “Mock Trial Notes.” Maybe that’s because I’m jealous--my parents never bragged about my Model UN-ness and Debate Team-ness like that. This is the closest my parents came to bragging: My mom: “Uh, yeah, Katie’s away this weekend. She’s at that Model UN thing…no, it’s not modeling. It’s countries, they pretend they’re countries, she wears a skirt…and she argues with people.” My dad would then break in, “She LIKES to argue. She should be a lawyer. She loves to argue with me.” I love my parents. Ask them what my major is, I dare you. Mom: “Uh…there was the sports thing….but she doesn’t do that anymore…even though I think she should…” Dad: “She should be a LAWYER! She’s gonna be a lawyer, she’s just arguing with me again. She’s just rebelling. She’ll turn around when she realizes I’m right.”)
Where was I? Oh yeah, saying I’m going to Peter-King this. Okay.
--There’s an epidemic going around Take One Video/Bokays (aka, “the store,” the store I co-manage in the New Union). Two of my co-workers ended relationships in the past week. This now means, as far as I know, that the entire staff of the store is single. Guys of Binghamton University: along with renting movies, you can now pick up a girl at Take One Video. While supplies last, restrictions apply.
This also led to my boss telling me all the girls should be more like me because “I don’t need men because I’m too busy.” Yee-haw, yet another outside confirmation of my workaholicism. Who wants to be my sponsor in WA?

--Running joke of the week: “This dance is about the battle between good and evil…this dance is about the battle of good and evil….this dance is about the newspaper boys fighting evil…the dance is about good people fighting evil demons…this dance is about the Anglo-Saxons fighting the Vikings, but the Irish are strong and survive and learn to live together with everyone in harmony.”
Ciarra: “I don’t know where the heck she gets this. You know those kids don’t know what the heck she’s saying about the dance. They heard Anglo-Saxons and they’re like, ‘Ooh, Anglo-SEX!”

--For a girl who didn’t stay around long enough to make it to the Parkie courses in my Sports Info and Com major, I felt a tad like a Parkie this week. (I just realized that the use of the word “Parkie” is alienating my whole Binghamton audience. I’ll explain: Students in the communications school at Ithaca are nicknamed “Parkies.” Many of my friends were “Parkies.” I didn’t use it until I started hanging out with Sara, who uses it all the time--she’s an ex-Parkie who then went to H&S. I still go back and forth between IC lingo and BU lingo two years later. The worst is when I call the SA office the SAC, because the two are completely different, but somehow I slip and get the two confused…I don’t think transferring was good for my poor brain.)
But anyway, as I mentioned at the beginning, I was Miss Publicity for CDT. Thanks to my Homecoming connections, I was able to get Gail from University Publications and Marketing to help me with publicizing our Saturday performance. I wrote press releases, called and e-mailed people, designed advertising, and, the crème-de-la-crème, got interviewed in the studio by our CBS affiliate here. Yep, that was me on Thursday afternoon, chatting it up with Francesca whats-her-face. I realized after that I needed more make-up--I looked like I belonged as an extra in The Hours.
But it all worked--if you live in the Binghamton area (outside of the university, that is) and didn’t at least glance over something about CDT, then you obviously shun all forms of media. We had the biggest Saturday performance, profit-wise, ever. Initial numbers indicate that we brought in almost $900 more than last year’s dismal showing! Attendance wise, we doubled from last year. (I raised ticket prices when I took over as Financial Manager--it was sorely needed budget wise.) Although, there can always be more: when I presented our faculty advisor with my initial numbers, she looked sad. “I was hoping for $2,000 in profit.”
Bah, humbug. Given what other forms of entertainment we were up against, I’m rather proud of our showing. To quote Brian, “I rule.”

--This “Mark Brunell going to the Redskins” thing led me to throw my throw pillow at Sportscenter Thursday night when it scrolled on the ticker. For one, the Redskins were set at quarterback--not only did they have Ramsey, they had one of the Hasselbecks, the one who is married to the new girl on The View, making them the heirs to the famous mediocre QB-actress throne currently held by Rodney Peete and Holly Robinson Peete. They don’t need a QB who has had some pretty bad injuries--and they had to be bad, because any QB with a style like Steve Young and with time served under Brett Favre is going to sit with anything less than decapitatzation--who may be at the end of his career (and that stinks, cause Brunell is what, 33?). The only thing I can think of, and this came to me tonight after I finally got around to thinking about sports again after the week-o-dance, is that the Redskins want to set up a St. Louis situation--if one falters, you have a backup who should be a starter to fill in. But why would you do that when your existing backup (the Hasselbeck) just needs more time (at least I think), and your starter is promising and finally healthy? That’s bad front office stuff. I feel as if I’m missing something here, and I very well might be, because I was in artsy-land all week. If I am missing something, please let me know.
And of course, this leads to what I wanted to happen to Brunell, which was my patented “Kat’s Well-Intentioned-But-In-Reality-Really-Bad Joke of the Week.” I thought I had read something on “The Daily Quickie” on ESPN.com saying that rumour had it that the Niners might waive Garcia. Now, news like that was enough for me to allow myself to eat mozzarella sticks (at over 1000 calories, I only allow myself to eat them on VERY special occasions). Well, I had this crazy idea for the Niners, and if you aren’t the most knowledgeable about your mid-90s football, it can be explained by my Top 5 Hottest QBs list I had a few weeks ago (it’s still up--just go to the 1/24/04 entry): The Niners could get rid of Garcia, sign Brunell, and let him keep his number 8. Don’t sign Owens (not like they’re going to anyway) and somehow get back Rice. Volia! I get to sit back and pretend that I’m 13 again.
My poor mom, I told her this over the phone, and she was quiet. “Uh-huh, honey…now would Dad get that? I don’t get it. Who is he again? And by the way, who is this A-Rod fellow?”
“Wrong sport Mom.”
“Oh, I was hoping the Bills could get him. Are people angry about this?”
“Yeah, Mom.”
“Ahh…do you like him?”
“A-Rod? Mom, I don’t like anything having to do with the Yankees.”
“I know honey. The Yankees stink.”
“Mom, you’re only saying that because Uncle Sean likes them.”
“They stink.”
Thank you, Verizon, for letting me have these conversations more often. Unlimited nights and weekends=the best invention since the internet.

--Sara took great offense to me saying last week that my children will not play basketball. I give you this in response: I’m 5 foot 1. The tallest person in my family (both sides, mind you) is my Uncle Sean, my mom’s brother, who is close to 6 foot. How the heck that happened, I don’t know. (Well, my grandmother is pretty tall, so I guess that’s how. And when I say tall, I mean average.) My immediate family lines up like this:
Dad = 5’6
Megan = 5’2 ½
Mom = 5’1 ½
Me = 5’1
Sam = shortest boy in the 3rd grade
I have this inkling that unless I marry Shaq (ewww), or unless my genes completely get crushed by my future husband’s, my children will be of the running back, not the point guard, variety.

--I have grand aspirations now that Children’s Dance Theatre is for the most part done. I join the SA on Tuesday night as the new Mountainview Rep at Large. I also plan on sleeping, eating full meals, and maybe actually doing work for my classes. I also have decided that there are three more things I want to do in the 80-something days before I leave college:
1) Dance one more time somewhere.
2) Write a guest column in the Pipe Dream (school newspaper).
3) Be on the sports show on BTV (aka, avenge the BTV dating show disaster I participated in last year. Blech. I can’t believe I did that.)
We will see if I get those done. I may not, seeing that I have that little thing called a thesis to write.

--Next week: The BU vs. BU basketball game! The Bear-Kats (hahahahaha, I’ll be here all week) versus the Terriers. The cats versus the dogs. Wow, I’m just trading wimpy mascots.

And I leave you with my quote of the week: "I can not have sex with a Harvard acceptance letter!" (not that I've gotten one yet or that I will).
Where's the sign up for Workaholics Anonoymous again?