The Last Load of Laundry

Not just a great alliteration, "the last load of laundry" is also the horror story that happened to me last night. Finals finally gave me a break and I had some time to do my laundry. So I could continue to wear clothes. I think that's a good idea, so I loaded my darks into the washer, added the detergent, paid my quarters and walked away. When I returned, all my clothes were sopping wet and of course only two of the dryers were working. Neither of them were available. I proceeded to squeeze what water I could back into the washer, but soon the pants I'm wearing have water stains dripping down them and everything in the basket is still soaked.

So I tried a new tactic. I carried everything back to my apartment, which is up two small flights of stairs and at the other end of the building. Little known fact: when wet, laundry is heavy. Also, the holes in a laundry basket are a great way for additional water to drip out onto the carrier. I stopped after one flight of stairs, ran down the hall in my water stained pants, and grabbed a towel to put under the basket. This technique worked okay, but I still had to wring out what I could when I returned to the apartment. In the kitchen sink. Luckily, it wasn't full of dishes.

Two hours later, I'm still waiting for a dryer, so I give up and carry everything to the neighboring building with the help of a few roommates. I'm feeling relieved, thinking that everything will get dry. An hour and a half later, the dryer has barely made a dent in the sogginess of my wardrobe. So I separate it into two different dryers and put both loads in for another hour. And when that's done, it's one o'clock in the morning, and guess what? It's still not dry. I know when I've been defeated. The laundry gods have decided that I do not, in fact, need to continue wearing clothes. As I write this today, I have two basketsfull of laundry in various states of dampness.

The clincher: I still need to do both my whites and my towels. Wish me luck; I have a feeling I'll need it.

Jem Finch Meets Baseball

Despite my complete lack of hand-eye coordination, I have a strong secret desire to be a sports writer. Perhaps this stems from my love of anything to do with the Olympics. Maybe it comes from the fact that the film Remember the Titans changed my life, and I saw it five times in the theater. Maybe I just love great stories, and sports happens to have a lot of them, and the best ones seem to find their way into the hands of great writers. My top three, in no particular order: Seabiscuit by Laura Hillenbrand (just in time for the upcoming Kentucky Derby), The Greatest Game Ever Played by Mark Frost (the one and only time golf ever seemed understandable and enjoyable), and The Perfect Mile by Neal Bascomb (a book that confirms that running is a task for the diligent and crazy).

In the interest of pursuing this goal, I'm always looking for the crazy, untold sports stories. Today, MSN.com came through by providing me with this story. I was particularly struck by the story of #3 on the list. After all, Jimmy Piersall did once bat wearing a Beatles' wig. I also noticed that his life was good enough to inspire a movie, which led me to the ultimate source of knowledge: Wikipedia. The film, entitled Fear Strikes Out, features Anthony "Psycho" Perkins as Piersall and was directed by Robert Mulligan. This name struck the dejavu chords in my mind, perhaps because mulligan is a golf term meaning "do-over." But no. The name has actual significance for my pop culture experience. Robert Mulligan is also the director of the classic, must-see To Kill a Mockingbird. When I started reading about Jimmy Piersall, I never thought it would lead me to Anthony Perkins, let alone Jem Finch.

PS And for those of you playing at home, the last time I made a Kevin Bacon game post, I referenced a movie called Fear of Clowns. Today, that Fear Strikes Out. Any other "Fear" films I should know about? Considering the fact that neither these films sound watchable from their descriptions, maybe I'm better off not knowing.

The Hottest Names, or, A Lazy Friday Night

Last Friday, my friend Erin and I, just sitting around chatting, had the conversation that led to this list. I started by saying I hadn't been to the school library much lately, so I'd broken up with it. She then said, "Oh, you're dating Jesse, now?" (The humanities building where we attend most of our classes and work is named after a guy named Jesse.) I conceded that. Then, out of nowhere, Erin drops the sentence that will captivate our conversation for the next hour and a half: "Jesse's a really hot name."

So, in case anyone wants to know, here they are. The names both Erin and I thought were hot. Note that Jesse didn't make the list.

9. Derek
8. Max
7. Charlie
6. Sam
5. Jeff
4. Ben
3. Will
2. Jack
1. Eddie

And, just because I want to, I'm posting a picture of the hottest Eddie known to woman. He almost has the power to take over Cary Grant's throne. As you can see, he knows the power of a clean haircut and a sharp suit. Not to mention the sunglasses. Watch out, Horatio Caine. Enjoy. I know I do.

Death: How to Get It Right

This article caught my attention because for as long as I can remember, my grandmother (who, by the way, insists on that grand and well-deserved title) has had her own funeral planned. My mom has slightly followed suit in this, telling me three songs she wishes played at her own funeral. Sadly I must admit I cannot recall the titles of these songs, although I know at least one is by the piano virtuoso Chopin. Hopefully, my mom and grandmother will have it recorded in an easy-to-find place when the time comes. Apparently this trend now extends beyond my family. (And, just so you know, I love the title of the book Meredith recommends.)

The Mysterious Benedict Society

Okay readers, here's something to check out. I just bought this book yesterday based on a recommendation from an editor at a children's literature conference. Plus, it was on sale and only about $5. I do not have will power strong enough to say no to a $5 book. It's called The Mysterious Benedict Society, and it was written by Trenton Lee Stewart. So far I've only been able to stop reading a) if I'm sleeping, b) if I'm in class, or c) if I'm at work (with very limited will power in the c category).

The basic scenario: Reynie Muldoon is a gifted child looking for special opportunities, so he certainly has to follow the add that leads him to just that. What follows is a series of test and a few new friends, each with their own strengths and weaknesses. Try it. Then you, too, can become a clever kid detective with special opportunities.

If you make it through, there's also a recent sequel, which I'm sure I'll be reading as soon as my budget (or local library) allows.