shmexis brings the pain.

i think i may just have to reinstate the big plastic bubble idea..because i just can't be left to my own devices for more than five minutes without bringing harm upon myself or others. for example: walking. putting one foot in front of the other at a slow to moderate pace meant to get a person from point A to point B..sometimes to point C for a quick snack or bathroom break (even though both should have been taken care of before leaving the house like moms said). it's a fairly easy task, yet i somehow manage to mess it up on a daily basis by trying to complete another task in the process. today, i left my room to grab a newspaper and take out the trash. after disposing of the garbage, i embarked on the 5 to 7 second walk back to my room when an exceptionally large headline caught my eye. i glanced down for one hot minute and BAM..the right side of my body got real intimate with a sweet (but not really my type) piece of wall. hell, i can jump rope and juggle several watermelons while spinning 18 plates on sticks and tap dance michael flatley style without breaking a sweat..but walking and reading? amateurs need not apply..cuz this is OBVIOUSLY only for the experts.

wincing in a mixture of pain and where-the-hell-did-that-wall-come-from, i gimped the rest of the way back to the room and closed the door, wondering when this seemingly endless bout of clumsiness began (maybe following that black cat under a ladder on a sidewalk covered in cracks last week wasn't the best idea..). apparently thinking and walking is something else that cannot successfully do, because at that very moment i slipped on a notebook and banged my right knee, the same knee that was still reeling from a chance encounter with a concrete wall several seconds prior, into my desk chair. i'm not even going to try walking and chewing gum at the same time. it just may prove fatal considering my current track record.

in the few minutes left in the day when i am not laid up because of my latest injury, i have been busy slaving away to my major (journalism if y'all haven't guessed by now). even though writing is something that i love to do (evidence: helloooOO blogger!) and am pretty damn good at (thankyouverymuch), it's definitely something that's going to put my already short temper to the test. for serious, being a journalist is like going on an episode of "blind date"..minus those nifty thought bubbles. at first, people are all excited to meet you, but as soon as they realize who you are and what your intentions could potentially be, the "date" quickly begins to resemble an episode of "cops:" dodging questions left and right and occasionally involving high-speed car chases and liberal use of mace. and then they have the nerve to say they will call you back..but NEVER DO. those little evasion tactics may have worked for you in the past..but not anymore. there's a new sheriff in town..and she's gonna take you down. i have a badge and everything yo.

..laying down the law (then needing medical attention after tripping over it),
lex

rawk with me, won't you?

while suffering from an extreme case of boredom and procrastination a few nights back, i began scouring the profile of every person on my buddy list (you know you do it too..don't deny) and found a quote so accurate that i was half expecting guy smiley and his massive chompers to show up and shriek, "alexisshmexis..this is your life!"

guy never showed up (a honker fight at mr. hooper's store took precedence, i'm sure)..but the quote went a little somethin' like this: always avoid drama..keep things easy..forget the future..be yourself..never give a fuck..and bite your tongue for NO ONE. if those few words didn't sum up the mess that i fondly refer to as my life then i don't know what will. i mean really..biting your tongue is probably one of the most unfun things that you can do, including getting a red-hot poker in the eye or a knee to the groin..discluding slip 'n slides.

also rivaling the aforementioned tortures is getting roughed up by middle-schoolers..when you are in college. regardless of what you may hear or think, 12 year olds in large numbers are a force to be reckoned with. scenario: me and big mike go to woooostahhh for a night of some much needed rockin' out courtesy of those lovable canucks, simple plan. imagine my surprise when we arrived at the venue and saw glitter, safety pins, and parental chaperones as far as the eye could see. seeing as though the collective height of the prepubescent crowd towered over my teeny fivefoottwo frame, i was the proud owner of a baker's dozen new bumps and bruises by the time the show let out. definitely worth the pain..but i'm still telling my mom.

not much else to report/comment on/kick to the curb this time around..it's been a pretty uneventful week. our regularly scheduled idiocy will resume momentarily.

here's a great joke..YOUR FACE! ahhhh yes..there it is.

..seriously reconsidering picking on someone my own size,
lex

spring breakdown.

after a short hiatus, muchos drinkies, and far too many hours flying the "friendly" skies on the delta express, *cue drumroll, strobe lights, and midgets on unicycles* i am BACK for your viewing pleasure. peep these tan lines! no not you..you're gross. backupoffme.

spring break was sweet. me and judy doin' it up for serious. lots o' sun..lots o' skin..but my question (but not a complaint by ANY means) is why was everyone down in ft. lauderdale from indiana? not just like one or two people..three at the most..but even people on the street were all like "how y'all ladies doing tonight?" with that lazy, midwestern, cornfed accent prominent their voices. without a doubt some of the most laid-back dudes i have ever met despite the hick-like drawl emitting from their mouths. they definitely made our stint in florida all the better..aside from informing us we were the worst frisbee players on the eastern seaboard and the ongoing grabass tournament we were unwittingly roped into. maybe we'll see the good ol' boys again next year..but don't expect to see me flashin' my goodies on girls gone wild. EVER.

in a related story, why do all the wrong people choose to wear thongs on the beach? and people with chest hair rivaling that of a woolly mammoth insist on going topless? discuss amongst yourselves.

turning and being 20 is a weird thing. i expected something crazy to happen..growing a horn or sprouting a third nipple perhaps..but i woke up on the ides of march to the same ol' lex staring right back at me in the mirror. same long, silky brown hair. same fabulous abs. same rockin' ass. while these attributes are all well and good and sexy as hell, i was still the same silly gal i was they day before (remember my policy about growing up?). i think (and shout me a holla if you agree) that 19 and 20 should be abolished. just wiped the hell out. el fin. kaput. there's nothing eventful that one can do on these birthdays except count down the days until they are 21..and probably partake in the same activities that would occur on that momentous day anyway. my suggestion is either 1. skip from 18 to 21 like it ain't no thang, or 2. bring on the weird body mumbo-jumbo. it's a bummer about not growing a horn. it would have been great for fighting evil.

lastly, would the owner of the beige 1979 vista cruiser please approach the podium? your lights are on.

..saving the world before bedtime,
lex

my life as the consolation prize.

a few weeks ago, i was assigned a task. very dangerous, very covert, uncharted territory if you will. toppling an underground cock fighting operation? negative. assassinating pygmy aborigines using only mind bullets? again, no. my mission, if i chose to accept it, was to turn a gay guy, well, un-gay.

this past weekend, the aforementioned task was to be completed. "it's for the good of mankind," i was told by an unnamed party (dave), "plus, i'm tired of him hitting on me!" while i can always be counted on to help a friend in need (and by "always" i mean if just the right amount of begging, pleading, and sincere ass-kissing/monetary bribes come into play), i was torn on this one, wrestling with the pros and cons at great length. why, you ask? because i am suffering from a severe disorder, one that could potentially kill me if rejected by a gay (or any) guy. this disorder is the "cool girl complex," and i have been at it's mercy my entire life.

the "cool girl complex" is both simple and mind-fucking-boggling at the same time. it generally targets olive-toned, dark-haired, shorter-than-your-average girls named lex at birth and sticks with them like glue until they're sleepin' with the fishes. girls like this are the first-born child of middle-class parents from a ghetto suburb of boston called revere and, when aged to perfection (or 18), move to connecticut to attend college for journalism. the sweeter the ass, the more potent a punch the complex packs. as you can see, it is very rare, and a cure has not yet been found. i have the most advanced form and i'm fading..fast.

symptoms of "the complex," as it will now be referred to as, are overall attractive physical features, paired with an easy-going-but-not-standing-for-bullshit personality, razor sharp wit, and the alcohol tolerance of a salty old sea captain. those individuals diagnosed with the complex can meet someone new and within minutes be that stranger's new best friend. perfect, right? but wait..there's more. if this stranger is of the opposite sex though, this of course means that a blinking, neon sign lights up above the complexed one's head that says "please Please PUHLEEZ tell me about any and all problems/thoughts/general wonderings about that girl over there with the monster cleavage that you've been checking out all night..and spare NO detail!" the cool girl can feign genuine interest quite well in this kind of scenario and will even offer up suggestions as to how to win the checked out girl over from the female perspective. they are then told that they are "so great" and "the best person ever" as the aforementioned male scampers over to implement the cool girl's plan to win over the checked out girl and ultimately leave the cool girl dumbfounded and alone..all the while wondering, "what the..?"

if the cool girl is lucky, she may (rarely) steal a kiss or other token of affection, though it is usually the result of a mighty thick pair of beer goggles. she has grown accustomed to pats on the back and playful tousles of the hair. she is the top romantic councilor and advice-giver-outer in her circle of friends (who are all paired up and ducky with love), yet she remains the kid sister that you don't really notice until she makes you laugh or kicks you in the shins. she's a total pain in the ass..but you keep her around for those rainy nights when you can't have your first choice.

the thing that always gets me though is that when asked what kind of girl they would prefer to be with, most guys will say "dude, i have to be able to carry on a conversation with her; if she can tell a good joke, even better. oh yeah..and she has to be somewhat cute." helloooooOOOOOOOO! i'm right here, you schmuck. no..behind the blond in the low-cut shirt and the redhead with legs for days. i'm right here..oh..and there you go. i'll be the shoulder to complain on when she dumps you..like i always am. welcome to my life as the consolation prize.

the cool girl will always be the cool girl..because she is too stubborn and proud to change her ways, despite the ever-present lovin' drought. the cool girl is never phony and will never back down just to please a crowd. she is genuine and brutally honest. this is her greatest strength as well as her downfall. "the complex" may very well go without a cure forever..but maybe one day (hopefully before i am old, gray, and sagging in all the wrong places) someone will take the cool girl for who she is. he is the cool guy..and i know he's out there somewhere.

..not only the president but also a client,
lex

ps..a certain tennis pro that shall remain nameless likes horses in a prison movie kind of way..talk amongst yourselves.

i love you, eye crispies and all.

hi my name is lex..i have an addiction. i'm a dick..i'm addicted..to sleepies.

i don't view naps as a leisurely activity. i view them as a sport, a competition if you will. and we all know the goal of a competition: to win..by any means necessary (morals are out the window..kinda like politics). it started innocently enough: i would come back from a particularly grueling (read: starting before 10 a.m.) class, feel a bit drowsy, and decided a good remedy would be to catch a few quick zzzs to refresh and reenergize myself, hence warding off all unnecessary bitchiness for the remainder of the day. what started as a 20 minute jaunt now has the tendency to stretch into several hours..escalating from a mere "nap" to the more advanced (and illegal in 32 states, including connecticut) "snoozefest of death 2003." the sad part is that, no matter how hard i try, no matter how much sleep i get the night before, no matter if i have kicked the nyquil bottle to the curb, i cannot stop. someone please help me..for sleepies have taken over my existence. all messages can be relayed to the top bunk, both my accomplice and ultimate demise.

moving right along, i am not greek. i never was greek. most likely, there will never be any greek in me in my entire life (unless, of course, that tall dark fellow over there is a friend of socrates if yaknowwhatimsayin..). although this is a heritage that alludes me, it's still pretty damn fun to pretend. that being said, i can surely say that i can rock the toga like no other. move over zeus. sit yo' ass down aphrodite. there's a new goddess in town..and her name is ME..actually it's lex, but you get the idea (if you don't then you are real unsmart). my get-up was waaaaaay better than yours anyhow..and i don't even have magic powers. canyoudealwithTHAT? didn't think so..but bring it just the same. i'll be waiting..cardboard lightning bolt in hand.

so yeah..i turn 20 in six days. this rapidly approaching deadline has caused me to ponder one of life's most burning questions: are the days of watching spongebob in my underwear whilst eating a huge bowl of cinnamon toast crunch really numbered? i submit that they are NOT! if people expect me to act all grown-uppy just because i am out of the "teens" then they are sorely mistaken. i will not only reject that unwanted status, but i will revel in my childhood for as long as possible. revel with me, if you'd like. i'll tell you now though..try to take my my little ponies, especially the flutter ponies with the detachable iridescent wings, and you will be dining at the sandbox buffet for breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the next few weeks. you thought i would go house on those mount olympus mofos? oh..you ain't seen nuthin' yet. the ties between a girl and her playthings last a lifetime. plus, you'll mess up their hair.

..reppin' mattel to the fullest,
lex

snoozebars, snowfall and stds..oh MY.

if i went outside right now and just stood there, within approximately 4.3 seconds, all 5 foot 2 of me (stop laughing..that's my real height..on a good day..meaning today i am closer to 3' 7"..) would be completely covered with a semi-thick layer of snow. god really needs to start using head and shoulders..cuz these flakes are the size of carpet squares (remember those?! naptime rules!).

after a slapfest with my snooze bar that lasted close to 45 minutes (not even close to my previously set record of 3 hours and 17 minutes but whatev), i rolled over and mumbled to my roomie, "hey can i see that stupid article for.." those 8 words were all that i said..because it was only then that i realized that my roommate (and the stupid article) were nowhere to be found. so yeah..i was talking to myself. please bust out the straight jacket and escort me to a padded cell as soon as possible.

on tuesdays and thursdays, i have about an hour between women's studies and lit class, so i usually come back to the dorm, grab some grub, and veg for a while until i have to get back on the shuttle and ship off to heinous blond bitch on wheels 127..i mean english. as i mentioned earlier (just scroll up if the ahlzies is kickin' in), the white stuff was coming down pretty heavy and i was debating whether or not to subject myself to the elements just to learn a few useless facts that would be erased from my memory as soon as the tv is flipped on later. i DO have a midterm on tuesday in lit, so i said to myself, "self..you really should go to class..even though a mere glimpse of your teacher could turn you to stone." being the ever conscientious student i am (again, stifle the laughter), i pack up my "learning appliances" (i.e., backpack, notebook, juicebox, rice krispie treat, etc) and trek my sweet ass downstairs and onto the shuttle. we were in i-lot when the loud girl on the cell phone (there's always one) announced to the entire shuttle that classes from 12:30 on were cancelled because of the weather, prompting everyone and their mother, brother, and second cousin's hamster to whip out their respective wireless devices and call anyone who could potentially be effected by this revelation. of course i'm doing the happy dance because i don't have class..but i am too far from my dorm to walk back without risking losing a limb from frostbite. so i did what any self-respecting, lazy-ass, i'd-rather-be-sleeping college student would do: take the shuttle all the way back around campus back to the dorm, where a pair of sweatpants and spongebob blanket were anxiously awaiting my return. the problem was (now try to contain your surprise) everyone else (and their mother, brother, and second cousin's hamster) had the same damn idea. lots of inappropriate closeness and crotches to the facial region ensued.

i may have a slight (ok..excessive) tendency to think the worst of people..but when people deserve their props..i give 'em. in the closing moments of the longest shuttle ride in modern history, where people were packed in so tightly that several restraining orders were implemented upon departure, several of my fellow shuttle buddies kept me laughing so hard my eyes started to tear. anecdote worthy of repeating: "hey..what if this was a friday night and we were all cocked as hell? that would be awesome." the mental picture in itself was enough that the sheer thought of it now is still making me giggle.

in a related story, i would like to express my sincere gratitude to judy m for honoring my request to have a sharp object ready for me to jab into my eye upon my return to the dorm. a graphic depiction will be displayed on the whiteboard until for-ev-er.

i would also like to inform those who expressed concern (aka my moms) that since my last post, i have yet to encounter another slipperooo. the plastic bubble has since been moved into the abandoned warehouse where all stupid and short-lived ideas i have had since age fetus now reside in useless peace and harmony.

apparently, there is a chlamydia epidemic sweeping the population of downtown storrs. shield your genitals kiddies..this could get messy. also, ewwwwwwwwwwww.

..off to make snow angels and stock up on contraceptives,
lex

i am the mayor of pain.

i fell thrice times in under 24 hours. i should be outlawed from walking and quarantined to a plastic bubble for the remainder of my existence.

..in dire need of a full-body bandage,
lex