So long, for now...

This is likely to be my last post for a while since I am leaving at 0630 tomorrow morning to have PRK laser eye surgery. Yay for the Navy for footing the bill and allwoing me to have 20/20 vision! Anyway, so while I am in pain, drugged up with Percocet and hiding from the sunlight, I will give you all the link for my sister's blog to keep you from undergoing "Ruthie blog withdrawl" (haha, yeah right). But seriously, she is super cool and is an excellent writer (even if she does dedicate her longest post ENTIRELY to our 16 year-old sister...ugh). Since she has recently moved back to South Florida, closer to my family, she has some pretty interesting stories about them. Believe me, things can get pretty crazy in the Gaunt household with 3 women over the age of 80, a 16 year-old musician, a 10 year-old jokester, and 2 parents living there, especially when two large hurricanes hit and they have nowhere to go and nothing to do.

So without further ado, here is the link to the fabulous blog of "Grace": http://graceaplenty.blogspot.com.

Happy reading and don't be afraid to comment...she LOVES that! hehe

Don't worry, I shouldn't be away for too long. I'm going to try as hard as I can to diminsh my recovery time so I can thoroughly enjoy the Rascal Flatts concert at USNA this Saturday night! YEEEEEHAWWWW!!!!

Oh yeah....GO NAVY! BEAT AIRFORCE! Watch the game Thursday night on ESPN!!

Betty or Veronica???

Due to the lack of interesting things going on in my life, I've decided to dedicate this entry to one of the long time loves of my life: Archie comics. Honestly, I haven't sat down and read one cover to cover since I was about twelve, but those cheesy little comic strips pose some very intersting questions about life.
For instance, what type of girl to guys prefer...Betty or Veronica? On one hand, there's Veronica, the saucy, sexy, drop-dead gorgeous vixen and daughter of a rich millionaire who tends to sometimes be a b****. On the other hand, there's Betty, you're typical cute, blonde, All-American girl. I'd say that picking Betty is a no-brainer, but Archie is in a constant struggle, continuosly being pulled from one girl to the other. He keeps going back to Veronica despite the fact that her father despises him, and she basically treats him like crap. She has him wrapped around her finger and he's basically a triained dog around her, always catering to her every whim. She takes him for granted and doesn't appreciate his good-humoredness about her wearing the pants in the relationship. However, Betty worships the ground he walks, enjoys playing sports, and is not afraid to get her hands dirty...basically a very low maintenance girl...aka a good girlfriend. I guess Archie keeps going back to Veronica because like any guy, he sees her as an obstacle he has to overcome, a battle he has to win. Getting Betty is just too easy, it makes too much sense and presents no challenge. Oh, when will the boys ever learn?
Analyzing this brings up a few more pertinent questions. Like why does Betty keep forgiving Archie for blowing her off so he can see Veronica? Or why do Betty and Veronica even like Archie? He's a nerd, and he's not even good-looking!!! That hair cut he has is terrible!!!! And why do the two of them remain best friends even though they are constantly in competition with one another for the same guy? No doubt the answers to these questions will provide keen insight into the female condition.

Another weekend passes by...

Golly, do weekends here go by quickly, especially when there is a football game. Once again, here's a list of life lessons I learned this weekend:

1. When the administration runs out of ideas for spirit items to hand out at the game, they make photo copies of the star fullback's mugshot and paste them to sticks. (Personally, I'm saving mine for posterity.)

2. Nothing gets midshipmen riled up like a good Under Armour commercial.

3. It's ashame that the former chapel uniform policy caused me to alter the location where I go to mass. I didn't realize this until they changed the rule this week to allow us to wear civvies to the chapel, and coincidentally, this was the first Sunday this year I didn't attend mass in town.

4. Tennis movies rock, no matter who is the star. (See the last post for more details.)

5. Hurricanes suck.

6. Even priests enjoy a nice cup of gelato.

Movie Review

So tonight I went to the movies alone. Lame, I know, but what can I say? I guess the sheer fact that I went alone speaks for itself and how cool I am.

Anyway, I went to go see Wimbledon. Yeah, I know it doesn't come close to making the great movies list that I haven't even scratched the surface of, but it is a chick flick and about TENNIS which gives it two big checks in the "cool movie" column. I was a little apprehensive about Kirsten Dunst playing the lead role of the tennis star, but I was able to suspend reality for the duration of the movie and pretend that she looked like she could play. I wish I could give an unbiased opinion of the movie, but the sole reason that it was about tennis made it rock! A little unrealistic, but whatever. For example, people do NOT play from the baseline on grass courts. And I know tennis is largely a mental game (believe me, I know from the number of times I've choked in a match), but I really don't think that catching a glimpse of a hot tennis star in the stands can make you suddenly start playing awesome and come back from 2 sets to 0 to win in five sets. Golly, if that were true, I would make a hot tennis star come to my matches. Hmm....who would I pick?? I'd say Carlos Moya or Patrick Rafter (with the long haircut).

Another reason the movie rocked was that John McEnroe was in it. I love McEnroe...he is the man! If you haven't read his autobiography, I highly recommend it! I read it on YP cruise before youngster year, and I finished it in hours because it was so good.

At one point in the movie, John McEnroe gives a little speech about players and their superstitions and how if one of them goes awry, it can affect a player mentally and cause them to lose their focus and choke during a match. Boy is this true. I don't like to admit it, but I had superstitions growing up when it came to tennis. The big one was that when it came time for me to play in a tennis tournament, if it was my first match or a really important match, I would never wear an outfit that I had worn when I lost a match. Those outfits had been tainted with defeat and I would only wear them if I were playing in a back draw after I had already lost a match. Weird, yes, but that's what I did.

Finally, there was one quote from the movie that has stuck in my head being the spinster that I am. Kirsten Dunst's character, Lizzy, says it to Peter, the lead male charcter, when she was pissed at him. She said,

"In tennis, love means nothing. It means you lose." Maybe I should have played a different sport.

Do I live in a bubble?

I was talking to my sister tonight, and she mentioned the fact that school was cancelled for her again tomorrow. I immediately assumed that is was for one of the Jewish High Holy Days that public schools in South Florida always break for, but as we continued our conversation, I realized that there is another hurricane coming straight for my hometown AGAIN! I don't know how I've made it these past days without realizing. Perhaps it's the craziness that goes on here 24/7 that has me all wrapped up. Anyway, I'm often told I live in a bubble. Here are a couple of things I'm completely in the dark about (besides Hurricane Jeanne):

1. I had never heard of Ali G. until yesterday. Even western civ prof commented about my lack of world awareness because of this one.

2. I've never participated in snow sports, i.e. skiing, snowboarding. Perhaps this is because I had never seen snow until I came to Annapolis.

3. Boys.

4. Movies. My roommate cringes everytime she hears of another famous movie I've never seen. Examples of flicks I've never watched include Office Space, Braveheart, any Indiana Jones movie, Ferris Bueller's Day Off, Old School, basically anything you can think of.

About that flooding in the 5th wing basement....

Yesterday morning started off the usual way. I woke up, got dressed, went to formation, and got ready to go to breakfast. When I walked downstairs to the basement, however, I found myself wading through about half an inch of water that spanned most of the distance of the basement. I tried to tip-toe through the water so it wouldn't mess up my shoes, but I gave up and trudged through it.

After breakfast, I purposely avoided the route through the basement back to my room, and I got ready for swimming class. When I got back from swimming, I took a shower, got dressed, and was blowing my hair dry when there was a loud knock on the door. A maintenance worker had come to look at the drain in our shower. I moved out of the way so he could get into the small bathroom area, and after he looked in the shower, he called out to someone in the hallway, "Hey! I found the problem in here!" I was slightly taken aback by his statement, so I asked, "Uh, what is the problem?" He was like, "Well, there's been some flooding down in the basement and it's because the drain filter in your shower has come off and you girls have been putting stuff down the drain that shouldn't be there." I was horrified when he said this because he was inferring that we were dirty people who don't know proper shower drain hygiene! I said, "Sir, we really don't put anything down there. We dumped our mop water down the drain, but there weren't any solid objects in there." I was horrified because it was totally not true, and he was being so loud and everyone in the hallway could hear, including the plebe girls across the hall who had their door open. He kept reassuring me, "Don't worry, you won't get in trouble." AGH!!!

So, the day continued, I went to EE lab, lunch, and then the optometry clinic to see about some paperwork for my upcoming PRK surgery (yay 20/20 vision!). On my way into the clinic, I spotted that same maintenance worker in his truck. Unfortunately, he spotted me too, and he started waving and shouting, "Hey! I remember you from this morning!" I considered just darting into the building and not acknowledging his presence, but somehow I ended up looking back his way and saying, "Yep! That was me." He then walked over to where I was and said, "I had to tell CDR So-and-so about the problem, but don't worry, I didn't mention your name, so you won't get into trouble." I quickly shot back at him, "Yeah, but did you give them my room number?!" Then, he started giggling and was like, "Haha, oh yeah." I then bid him good afternoon and went into the clinic.

And so, the point of this whole story is.....if you lost the shine on your black shoes because of the water in 5th wing basement....you're welcome!!!

Special Delivery

Unlike the average midshipman who gets a care package from his parents every so often with cookies, candy, money, and other goodies, being the unloved middle child that I am (haha), I have never gotten a surprise little yellow package slip in my mailbox. My parents will send something if I specifically ask for it, but I definitely know it's coming. I can't deny the fact that I feel just a teeny bit jealous when my roommate gets a huge box from her parents in Alaska with heart-shaped brownies all individually wrapped. My parents do love me, they're just not very spontaneous.
This was all true until yesterday when I went to the mail room to pick up a package from home that I knew I was receiving. When I opened it up, I found everything I had asked for, but much to my delight, I found something else too! It was a CD with the slideshow that my oldest sister Sarah had made for my sister Leah's rehearsal dinner before her wedding this summer. I immediately popped the CD in my computer, and as the pictures started scrolling by with the Jackson 5, Bruce Springsteen, and a catchy version of "Going to the Chapel" by Bette Middler playing in the background, my mind was instantly flooded with memories from that hectic time this summer. The fond memories far outweigh the bad ones, but there were definitely plenty of both. Getting to see over 160 close friends and family members was awesome, as was meeting and hanging out with a bunch of new, fun people, even if they do go to West Point. I'll never forget that last night after the wedding when we all sat on the beach for hours with no light except for the little flame from the citronella candle! Oh, to be back there again!
But then I also think back to those not so fun times. Like when I got in trouble for being contrary about making table arrangements even though my mom was more focused on the wedding gifts my sister was opening than who was going to sit at table 8. Or when I was the only bridesmaid who couldn't go to the bachelorette party because I wasn't 21. Or when the country club where the reception was held did not have the air conditioning capacity to accommodate 160 people on a hot June day in South Florida. But alas, all of these unpleasant moments make for good stories in the end, and I can't really complain when the main reason for us all getting together was accomplished. Leah became Leah Roberts that day and gave us all the brother we never had!

Weekend Recap

Things I learned this weekend:

1. New Jersey is a real live purgatory.

2. Road trips from Annapolis to West Point really can take 7 hours.

3. Tennis is great but not when it's an ECA.

4. 7 hour road trips to West Point can be fun if you're with the right people.

5. Never let someone with 20/4000 vision drive a 15-passenger van.

6. For me, taking school books on a weekend trip is like having a security blanket. I really never study; it just makes me feel good to have them with me.

7. Boy am I glad I didn't go to Army!!

8. Real friends don't fade with time apart from one another.

9. Coffee and a muffin on a Sunday morning before mass is the best way to start off the day! (but don't I learn that every weekend??)

And so it begins...

At the request of some friends, namely my eldest sister, I have joined in the blogging craze. The name harkens back to my childhood and my sisters' teasing that the only way I could have such a good memory was by writing everything everything in my "little black book." Call it jealousy if you like, but I attribute it to the oppression of the middle child. Being the third of five daughters, I played the part of the "unloved middle child" through much of my childhood, and it still comes in handy today. So here's to you, my four sisters, and your privileged peek into my little black book.