Hey, everyone!

So this weekend was pretty exciting. On Saturday I was hanging out with my friend Laura (here’s your shout out as promised) when something unusual happened.

Laura is the one person I know who can pull off dreadlocks.

An older gentleman started chatting with us! Which was really nice. So we were making small talk, commenting on school and such, when I complimented him on the pumpkins that sat outside his door. Much to our surprise, he offered them to us. And even more shocking, we accepted!

So, there the two of us were, cradling enormous pumpkins in our arms while we climbed a hill to her house. But it was so worth it! We spent the next few hours in the kitchen making roasted pumpkin seeds which were phenomenal! And then I got to thinking . . . and scheming.

Here’s the result:

I carved “Thanks” into the pumpkin and added a big smiley face. Laura and I then proceeded to take lots of ridiculous photos with the pumpkin. Some of which are not embarrassing:

And some of which, well . . . are.

Anyhow, I ended up carrying my pumpkin with a baggie of baked seeds to the old man’s house. I had a brilliant plan: prop the pumpkin up at the door with the seeds, ring the doorbell, and run like hell. That way it’d feel a little more anonymous and exciting for him.

Well, the first part worked really well. Everything was going according to plan, except that his wife was in the kitchen washing dishes and saw me running away. And I think it freaked her out. I could tell that she thought some crazy college kid was puling a nasty prank on her. So, I’m hoping that once her husband explains everything she’ll think it’s funny.

In the meantime, I need to get back to work. I have one more Shakespeare essay to survive. Let’s see if I can make it!

More later.

Obsessively yours,

Marni

Hey, everyone,

So, recently I’ve gotten into exercising. Which is not something I expected to happen, truthfully. It’s not that I’m entirely inactive (not to brag but I am really good on rollerblades. We’re talking forwards, backwards, spins, the works.) but I’ve never been one to hit the gym. Mainly because I find exercising in public disconcerting. I guess I have a weird absorption with what I think other people think of me.

I look more similar to this than I am comfortable admitting.

Plus in the gym I always feel like I should be proving my right to be there. So I push up the speed and the resistance and I end up gasping and sweating about five minutes into the workout. And exercising with the football team looking on, grunting, and benching my weight just seems awkward. So, I’ve been going to the tiny gym in one of the dorms. I have to say that this is the perfect alternative since almost no one uses it and it’s technically open 24/7.

Which is where we get to the awkward event from the night before. I decided to work out at around 11:30 last night because sometimes it takes a while to talk myself into it. I say, “Okay, Marni! Let’s hit the treadmill!” and then I remain right where I am (which is usually comfortably sprawled on my bed) for a good half an hour. So I get to the gym and I start running and walking and all around having a good time . . . when I get an urge.

I should know by now NOT TO GIVE IN TO MY URGES! But it was just so nice being all alone, and the music that was pumping into my ears from my iPod was so good, that I just couldn’t resist. I began singing. Loudly. And most likely, horribly off key. Not that I could hear myself over the music and the treadmill but it seems like a reasonable assumption.

I was still singing merrily when an RA showed up and asked me as politely as possible to shut the hell up. Since the windows were open I was apparently putting on a performance for everyone in the dorm. And they didn’t exactly what to give me an encore. I stealthily exited the building and proceeded to sprint back to my dorm so that no one would know that the irritating girl singing “Girl Like That” by Matchbox Twenty (sometimes, I like to rock out to songs from the elementary school yard. Stuff like Chumbawumba. You know you love it). So that was my awkward episode from the night before. And from here on out I will not sing loudly in the gym . . .  at least not after quiet hours.

More later.

Obsessively yours,

Marni

Hey, everyone!

You’re wondering about the blog title du jour, aren’t you? Ready to shake your head, cross your fingers, and hope that I don’t have some strange vampire fetish thing going? No worries. I read the Twilight books, appreciated them as a fun mindless read, and moved on. And the only reason I watch The Vampire Diaries is because I think it’s hysterical that they’ve populated this small town high school with models.

Because there were tons of kids at my high school who looked just like this . . . oh wait! No. No, they didn't.

So, needless to say, I’m not going to do anything crazy. Like ever start drinking this:

Um . . . this is just gross.

Nope. I’m excited for something way way cooler! It’s time to donate blood again!

Okay, I love donating blood! Which is a weird thing to enjoy, I guess. Here’s the thing: I love feeling like a good person. And when I spend my time writing essays, reading Hamlet, and staying in my college bubble, I don’t really do as much as I could. I don’t volunteer to read to kids, or help animal shelters, or organize food drives. Instead, I’m usually too lazy to be bothered. Hey, I’m a college kid. I don’t exactly put “helping the world” on my daily To Do list.

So I like to think that the karma points of a blood donation makes up for some of that. Plus, I think growing up I associated blood donations with my sister. I know I complain about her sometimes, (okay, more than just sometimes), but she really is an incredibly warm-hearted person. Shayna was the one who put red cross magnets on our refrigerator at home. The ones that said stuff like every two seconds someone needs a blood  and that one donation can save three lives. And Shayna told me that donating blood is an amazing way to give back to the world. Maybe not in those words, but the message registered.

Here's your shout out, Shayna! Love you!

Anyhow, I signed up yesterday to donate blood on Friday. Which means lots and lots of spinach between then and now since my iron count is often too low for me to donate. This totally sucks (pun possibly intended) since they end up pricking your fingers and then they don’t let you donate. So last time I spent the day looking like a failure with band-aids on both hands and an “I tried” sticker.

Let’s just hope that I don’t turn into Popeye. That’s one look I can’t pull off. 

And now I should get back to work . . . lame!

But this makes me feel better.

More later.

Obsessively yours,

Marni

Hey, everyone!

Okay, I admit it: I was a bit nervous about the World’s Largest Sleepover. I was trying to figure out what to wear and what to say all during dinner. This lead me to leave multiple voice messages that went something like this:

Beep!

“Hi, it’s Marni. Are you on campus right now? Because I need to find some cute pajamas. Now. So if you could call me back and let ME BORROW YOUR PAJAMAS, that’d be great. Bye!”

Yes, I sounded deranged. But let’s not kid ourselves, pajamas matter. And what I usually wear to bed are adorable purple pj bottoms with moons on them . . . and an oversized soft green shirt that has “Wake Up, Goddamnit” written in bold on it. I got the shirt at a poetry slam in LA and smile every time I see it in the morning. But I wasn’t sure if it would go over well at the sleepover, so I coerced (ahem, I mean “borrowed”) some pajamas from my friend Grace.

Holly, Grace, and Jess modeling their onesies (and their Lewis & Clark Pioneer Pride) at a sporting event. These onesies can be purchased at Target for around $12.

All I had to promise was a shout out on my blog! If I had known earlier that shout outs would get me things, I would have already cooked up a nefarious scheme. Hah, kidding. Or not . . . 

Anyhow, back to the sleepover. First of all, the girls were totally awesome. They kept having music breaks where they rocked out to all the music on my iPod that I don’t always admit is on my iPod. Like Taylor Swift’s You Belong With Me and the Glee Cast’s version of Don’t Stop Believing. So I was nodding along in bed with my laptop perched precariously on me, waiting for my turn to be on the air.

One technical difficulty later and I was there, video chatting and laughing away. I felt so comfortable I told the girls about the whole Cory Monteith thing. You know, how he read that I wanted to have his children (perhaps) because my brother’s fiance showed it to him. I think they got a good laugh out of that. 

So my nerves were for nothing. I had a great time and a wonderful night.

I spent the rest of the night listening to fun music and procrastinating on homework by watching Friday Night Lights. And yes, it is weird that I got into a show that centers around football. In my defense, I had just gone to see the Lewis & Clark Pioneers take on the University of Puget Sound Loggers. We won! Which was a pleasant change of pace. It would have been embarrassing if we had lost to the “loggers.” I’m not trying to smash talk, but  . . .  really? Loggers?

Anyhow, it’s a fun show. Especially when you skip over the football stuff. And I wasn’t that crazy about the football player who became a paraplegic in the first episode.

I do, however, like Zach Gilford who plays the new Panther QB. (That stands for quarterback. I’m becoming way more sports savvy already).

Now, I'm just waiting to hear that one of you used to date him. And will go on to tell him of my appreciation of his (ahem) football prowess.

That’s all for now!

More later.

Obsessively yours,

Marni

(Added later) Apparently it’s “trash talk” not “smack talk.” What can I say? I’m a work in progress.

Hello, everyone!

So, most of the time, the fact that I have an autobiography is no big deal. It’s not like I have to fend off photographers on my way to class or attend Fashion Week in New York armed only with a fabulous purse.

I don't know if I would enjoy being followed everywhere . . . especially since I enjoy procrastinating and then sprinting to class. And I pretty much never wear makeup.

But every now and then something really exciting happens because of the book. Like I get to talk to the Senior Producer of the Dr. Phil Show who is incredibly nice and couldn’t be more LA when she calls me “cuteness,” orders a mocha frappachino, and tells me that she’s not sure when/if I can be on the show. Which is totally fine because just being on the phone is exciting enough!

Anyhow, something exciting book-related happened. I, Marni Bates, have been invited to  . . . THE WORLD’S LARGEST SLUMBER PARTY!

Can you tell I’m excited?

So here’s the deal: a fantastic organization (Girls With Dreams) is hosting the sleepover on Sunday, November 14th. It will unite girls via the computer from all over the world. And they want me to video chat in and answer questions about my autobiography!

It's like I'm a star!

Obviously, I’m psyched. But it’s kind of a shock too. In Middle School I was persona non populara and High School was pretty much more of the same. Looking back at those years, I’m struck with just how self-conscious I was. Especially around the popular kids. The ones who were nominated for Best Hair and Best Smile as their Senior Most Likely. What was mine? Well, I won Forever Sober. Which was totally teenage code for too boring to ever have too much fun. Heather and I were nominated for Evil Genius though and since the category was thrown out due to a complaint we both maintain that the title was ours.

Neither of us have ever been that creepy.

Anyhow, to go from feeling socially stunted to a special invite to THE WORLD’S LARGEST SLUMBER PARTY! is quite a dramatic shift and one I never could have foreseen. And now I have to run to class! For more information about the Slumber Party go to: http://www.girlswithdreams.com/youre-invited-to-the-worlds-largest-slumber-party.html

Oh, and I’m planning on studying abroad in Australia! Thanks for the advice, everyone!

More later.

Obsessively Yours,

Marni

Hello everyone!

Want to know the lamest part about being the youngest kid in a family of four? You’re always accused of being a copy cat. This is not intentional on my part either, but when interests match up, that’s what happens. Take my search for the right place to study abroad for example. After obsessing over the catalog I have found two programs that I’m qualified for.

Australia (where my brother’s already gone)

Gorgeous, right! The perfect place to drink fruity things and write.

Or  . . .  Italy (where my sister is now)

How am I supposed to decide? Either way, I’ll have a fantastic time–but I’ll also have to deal with some sibling stuff. And I tend to avoid dealing with sibling stuff. Especially since all of us are doing so well with each other right now. 

Anyhow, I’d love to hear your opinions! Where in the world (Italy or Australia) should Marni go?

More Later (I promise!).

Obsessively Yours,

Marni

Hey everyone!

So . . . I’ve been in a small funk. Which usually does not bode well for me. Left untreated, my funks can get bad. For example: the famous Funk of ‘08 where I spent the day watching a boatload of television, ate an entire box of Annie’s Mac and Cheese by myself, and then proceeded to eat the remaining frosting that my friend Branden hadn’t used for his cake. The kids on my floor caught me sitting in the dark, in the lounge, surrounded by the evidence and a guilty look on my face. Not pretty.

My kryptonite. So good!

So you can see why I avoid funks. Of all kinds.

This is one hairstyle I can not pull off.

But recently, I’ve been on a downward spiral that I attribute to the stress of picking classes for next semester. See, suddenly I have to know things. Even worse I have to plan things! 

Things like the next two and a half years of my life!

As much as I would like to have all the answers, I’m completely clueless. This was made painfully obvious when I sat down with my advisor to figure out how I can major in Psychology and still spend a semester next year in Australia. She was great. Really, very helpful. She started scribbling down all the classes I would have to take in order to graduate on time. And that was when I realized that maybe I’d been a bit too hasty about this whole become-an-English-minor-Psych-major thing. The truth is that I’m good in English. I kicked butt in a 300 level class my Freshman year and that was Victorian Literature! I’m not the greatest essay writer but I can hold my own in any class discussion (although some might say perhaps I speak too much . . .) and, most importantly, I enjoy the material. So switching to a field where I am behind everyone else doesn’t sound very appealing. Especially since that would mean that I’d have to take Statistics, Astronomy, and Brain and Behavior right away. Considering that my math skills are pretty much non-existent, I’d much prefer not to die from stress overload next semester with a calculator clutched in my cold fist.

So, I am sticking with English. I am also coming clean in this blog because all my family members have probably already found out. No one in my family is able to keep a secret and we’re not good at pretending not to know anything either. Anyhow, I’d like to thank everyone for all the positive feedback and support I received when I announced my Psych Major plans. While I feel foolish for trading majors in so quickly, it’s nice to know that none of you really care what my major is as long as I stay Marni. Right?

 Today, everyone gets a special treat too. After very little consideration, I’ve decided to include a photo of a friend from Facebook in my blog entries. Then I get to find out how long it takes for them to hear about their picture going up. The person who responds the fastest might get a prize! And everyone here gets to see the people (admittedly strange people) with whom I associate. Today’s lucky entry is . . . 

Woot!

Chris and Grace! Although, let’s be fair: I feel like Chris is the nominee for this post. He is also the proud recipient of the nickname “Ducky.” If you know him, and if you go to Lewis & Clark that seems likely, please call him this. I’m really hoping that the nickname sticks. 

Hopefully this picture brightened up your day. I know I feel less in a funk already . . . 

More later.

Obsessively yours,

Marni

Hello, everyone!

Well, my Halloween was pretty awesome. For starters my costume was everything I had hoped for and more. I went as the scariest thing I could think of: a narcissist. See, for a while my sister has warned me not to get too full of myself. Which is probably for the best since I know that no matter how many books I write and how far I go in the world my head will not get too swelled (I hope). But there are times when I mention that my autobiography is published that I feel like a bit of a narcissist. And I decided to embrace that inner show-off for Halloween. 

The Michigan sweatshirt I borrowed from my roommate’s boyfriend, the metal M I turned into bling was from my mom (as was the M purse), and the make up was done by my suitemate.

And to complete the awesomeness of my costume, I had something to give out on Halloween. Something better than candy!

Bookmarks! Official Louder Than Word Bookmarks that my wonderful editor, Debbie Reber, sent to me. So I was going around Lewis & Clark patiently explaining to people that I am not the letter M and that if they want to know me better they should read the blog. But you guys already know that. Way to be ahead of the curve!

And the birthday was good too. A tad anti-climactic (since I was not kidnapped)–but enjoyable. I ended up watching a bunch of Smallville.

Which was fun. It’s neat knowing that Lois Lane and Clark will eventually get together. It makes me feel smarter than the characters. I mean, sure, Clark Kent can shoot fire from his eyes, run/blur/fly faster than a speeding bullet, and use super strength, but does he know that he’s destined to end up with Lois? I think not!

Which leads me to the following equation:

Marni + Marni’s Clark Kent Knowledge makes her > or = to Superman!

But that could just be the Narcissist talking . . .

More later.

Obsessively yours,

Marni