We're all pregnant now. Or have an STD. Possibly both.

WARNING: Due to some adult content, viewer discretion is advised.

Picture this: You're standing with several of your closest friends, when suddenly you are pushed into a mass bubble bath full of people. People are "dancing" way to close to each other, there is no rooms to breath, bubbles are towering over your head, most of the guys have their shirts off, and you definitely saw a penis a minute ago.

Actually, don't picture that. Very sorry for that mental image you are now experiencing.

Despite what you are now thinking, this was not a porno being shot or a planned mass orgy. This was SU's  Foam Party. The Water Club put this event together to help raise money to build wells in Africa (actually, I'm not sure what they do exactly, but don't most water clubs have the same goal?).

I've been to one other Foam Party in my life. It was at an Under-21 Dance Club in Ocean City, Maryland. The club, H2O, had a large pipe that dropped foam from the ceiling onto the dance floor.

This party, however, was a bit different. Foam still shot out from a pipe, but instead of it just landing on the dance floor, there was a foam pit. Yes, a pit. As in a very large bath tub.

Of course, my friends and I only learned this after we had gotten into to TRAX. However, despite our reservations (especially about the fact that we were not allowed to wear shoes) we went in.

Somehow, we got pushed to the section where the foam was continuously coming out of the pipe. There were several times were I was completely covered in foam and had to fight my way out so I could breath. I touched way to many slippery bodies as there were so many people in this very small pit. My friends and I had to hold each other up so that we wouldn't slip and drown in the foam. And yes, I did see a penis.

After we had had enough of the foam (and the penises) we fought our way out, only to realize that we were all soaking wet, wearing only old shorts and tank tops, and it was 50 degrees outside. So we sprinted, barefoot (our feet were to slippery to run in flip flops), across campus and got back to Aikens as fast as we could. We all then took extremely hot showers for a good half hour.

The next day, we all had a good laugh about our gross experience. Then I heard from someone that they had found seven condoms in the foam pit. So I went and took another shower.

Who Run the World (Squirrels)

Harrisburg had a lot of squirrels. Every day I would see two or three run up the trees and telephone poles in my neighborhood. I would often see them run across the telephone wires with a nut in their cheeks wile walking home from school. So I thought I was properly prepared to deal with squirrels when I came to college.

Boy was I wrong.

SU's squirrel problem (yes, it is a problem), can only be summed up with this picture:

I can see about thirteen different squirrels in 20 minutes. Yes, only 20 minutes. They are everywhere. I have seen squirrels run, jump, skip and frolic across campus. I have seen squirrels chase each other like they were about to kill each other, and squirrels frolic together like Simba and Nala in The Lion King. 

There are simply to many of them. The only thing that dwarfs the amount of squirrels on campus are the amount of recklessly piloted golf carts.

String Quartets Make Everything Better. Even Failed Waffle Making.

Today my school was so happy to see me at breakfast that they had waiters, fancy food, fifteen ficus trees and a string quartet waiting for me at the cafeteria.

I'm just kidding. Those things were not for me. They were for the alumni that were visiting for Homecoming Weekend. The school had separated the cafeteria, with one side for us mere college students and the other side for the illustrious alumni. They even got table cloths.

Slightly disconcerted by this, I decided that making myself some fresh waffles would be a good breakfast. I was pampering myself because I had just finished a short story that was due that day.

I walked over to the waffle machine, prepared to make myself a great breakfast. I turned on the machine, poured the batter on it, and let that baby cook. It smelled delicious.

Two minutes later, my waffle was ready. I lifted the top of the waffle machine... only to see my waffle in pieces, stuck to the two sides of the waffle maker.

At first I couldn't figure out what I had done wrong. Then my roommate came up to me, looked at my mess, and said:

"Did you remember to spray the waffle maker?"

Oops.

And that is how I ended up scraping off waffle bits while accompanied by Beethoven's Symphony No. 9.

What happens when my roommate drags me to the Anime and Manga Club.

I have a confession to make: I am a die hard Hayao Miyazaki fan. I have watched Spirited Away so many times I know the movie by heart. I love Howl's Moving Castle, and I like Princess Mononoke even though it scared the crap out of me as a child. I even made myself watch Ponyo more then once, even though I could barely stand the constant screaming of "Ponyo LOVES Sōsuke!"

However, despite my love for these films, I have never actually watched anime. If you were to ask me about how I felt about the latest episode of Naruto or Vampire Knight, I would respond with a huh? Also, I have never read any manga except for one series called Peach Fuzz in seventh grade.


My roommate, on the other hand, is a huge fan of anime and manga. When we are not hanging out or doing homework she watches it all the time. It's like her drug.

So naturally, when the Anime Club put together a movie night showing Howl's Moving Castle, we decided to go. After that, it was decided that I had to join the Anime Club and begin my anime education.

What the heck, I thought. It can't be that bad. At least I don't have to go to yoga.


This was the first thing I heard upon entering the club:

"For my coronation, there will be fireworks, ale and marvelous dancing, and you shall all bow down to me bitches!"

This was Dan, the VP of the Anime Club. He was talking about how next year he would become President of the club (I didn't point out that coronations mostly belong to the monarchy). He spent most of the hour trying to convince us of his ultimate power. He also liked to use the word "Bitches" a lot.

He also was engaged in a battle with the Secretary of the club, Megan, to prove that he was more awesome then her.

To introduce everybody to everybody else, we had to say our name, age, major, what our favorite anime/manga was, and who would win in a fight, Dan or Megan?

As everybody went, I heard the names of many anime that I had never heard of before. Who names anime anyway? Most of their titles sound like bad porn movies. Kamisama Dolls? A Bridge to Starry Skies? I rest my case.

Anyway, most people voted for Megan while about five people voted for Dan. Eventually it was my turn. The following is a transcript of what I said:

"Uh, hey, I'm Elizabeth, and I'm a freshmen Creative Writing major. I really don't watch anime.. like, at all. She dragged me here! (I pointed at Julia) I really like Miyazaki movies though, especially Spirited Away. I also read a manga about a ferret in seventh grade. Anyway, as for who would win in a fight... Dan, you kind of remind me of Josh from Drake and Josh... so I'm gonna have to go with Megan."

This is not an exaggeration. Dan looked, acted and sounded exactly like Josh Peck. Somehow, none of the other members of the club made the connection, but once I pointed it out they started saying how right I was and they all started busting up laughing. The President of the club even gave me a high five.

So that was what happened at the Anime Club. Also, I learned what the word hentai means. Don't google it.

Goblins have stolen my Cetaphil

The Scene: My Dorm Room

The Date: Today

The Crime: Elizabeth's only case of Cetaphil has mysteriously disappeared.

Goblins are running amok in my dorm. This is the only explanation for the fact that my container of Cetaphil is missing.

I took a shower, came back to my dorm, put the Cetaphil on, then left for class. My roommate left after me and locked the door.

When I got back, the cream had disappeared.

It looks like this:

If anyone has any information, please contact me about the whereabouts of my Cetaphil asap.

Or you could send me a new container.

Please mom?

Today, I went flying.

The above title is not some all inspiring metaphor about how I realized how to achieve perfect nirvana. Today, I literally went flying through the air.

Today was my school's Fall Frenzy, which is where they bring a ton of cool blow-up structures for us college kids to play in. There was an epic water slide, a water tag, a obstacle course you could race a friend in, and that weird game where you have bungie cords attached to you and you try to run farther then your opponent without getting flung backwards (Which totally did not happened to me. Several times)

However, the coolest attraction by far was the reverse skydiving machine. Yes my friends, reverse skydiving.

To prepare for this amazing experience, you had to surrender your cell phone, jewelry, loose change and any liability the company might have should you fly out of the machine and break your neck. No big deal.

After signing away your life, you had to put on a special suit that looked like Superman's costume (I'm not making this up). You were then given special goggles, ear plugs (The fan that makes you fly was LOUD), and a quick, five minute instruction on how not to die on this ride. So far so good.

Finally, you where ready for the machine. Before they turned the fan on, you had to climb up on this huge bouncy thing that had ropes attached to it so you didn't fly off. Then they turned the fan on.

One of the skydiving instructors then jumped right into the middle of the fan's air path and flew about twenty feet up into the air. He just floated there like a pro, doing a few flips and turns while in the air. He then gently floated back to the ground.

Then it was my turn.

After putting myself into the appropriate position (which frankly, made me look like a awkward Egyptian hieroglyphic), the instructors grabbed hold of my superman suit and flung me into the air.

At this point in the story, I hoped that I could tell you that I accomplished this feat with grace and excellence, reveling in the feeling of actually flying. That was not the case.

As I flew, though the feeling was exhilarating, two things happened.

First, it suddenly became difficult for me to breath.

And second, some of my spit started flying onto my face. Look at me being all graceful.

So as I flew there in the perfect flying position, gasping for air and feeling the stickiness on my face, my wonderful roommate Julia started busting up laughing at my awkwardness.

Eventually, it was over. The instructors who had held me the entire time flung me back onto the bouncy thing, and I could breath normally again. Julia was still laughing at me.

It was all good though. When Julia went, her goggles flew off her face.

Bean Bags and Goldfish.

Bean Bags are a miraculous piece of furniture. Somehow, somebody decided that sitting in a boring, normal chair was just too damn difficult. I mean, why sit in a chair when you can flop onto a huge, comfy bag like thing on the floor? Obviously, this was what the creator of the Bean Bag was thinking when he or she created it.

Unfortunately, it says a lot about American society in general that these pieces of "furniture," which cost about $30 but probably cost only about $5 to make, have become so popular.

However, this little rant was not running through my head the other night while shopping at Target. What was running through my head was how the hell are we supposed to transport this thing on a bus?


Let me explain. The Target in near my campus allows a night in the beginning of the year where student's from my campus are allowed to come and shop. Lots of things are discounted and it is epic fun. Being broke, I only bought a few essentials, such as shampoo, makeup, and a huge box of goldfish that only cost $5.00

My roommate, God bless her, bought a lamp, rain boots, a hat, all of our food and a bean bag chair. We left Target with feelings of great accomplishment and happiness.

Then we saw the bus.

We had to transport five bags of stuff, one huge box and one bean bag chair on a yellow school bus. As I looked around, I saw a mutual look of horror pass over the faces of the other students as they looked at all the swag they had bought. I hate to break it to you dude, but though buying that life size Iron Man costume may have seemed a good idea at the time, your gonna have a hell of a time transporting it back.

What ended up happening was that I grabbed three bags and the lamp while Julia grabbed the three other bags and the bean bag chair. We struggled and possibly gave several students concussions as we managed to whack just about every person we passed trying to get back to our seats.

Finally, with lots of bags piled on top of us, we began our ride back to school. Eventually we got back and managed to get off the bus without seriously injuring anyone. We felt accomplished that we had accomplished our mission of getting our merchandise back to school.

Then we realized we had to carry it all back to our dorm.