Have they all gone mad?

I like vampires as much as the next girl -- maybe more -- but after reading about the flocks of women in their mid-twenties camping out to attend the premier of "Eclipse" in L.A., I couldn't help but cringe. Not only do I understand the fascination with vampires, but I also understand fan's loyalty/borderline obsession with films, as one who contemplated dressing up for the last two Lord of the Rings midnight showings (did you notice I only contemplated it?). But still.

These aren't young girls who don't know any better, these are women who have to take off work, and drive hundreds of miles to attend a 2 1/2 hour event. A group of three women even dropped $2,500 to fly in to sunny California from Michigan. Is it just me or couldn't that money have been used in much better ways? A trip to Paris or maybe something as mundane as paying rent?

I won't deny there is an allure to vampires, but I also know they aren't real. So who's going to break it to them?

How to...

Kill time. Yes, believe it or not there are people out there who are bored. They may be bored at work, at home, at school, or just bored regardless of where they are. So here are a few tips to pass the time while also avoiding turning into a lazy bum.

Read the news. Cosmo and InStyle do not count. I may have a bias since I'm a journalist, but still. It never hurt anyone to become an informed citizen through reading the newspaper. In fact, you may be surprised at the plethora of little facts and tid-bits you just didn't know about the world. It's not like I'm telling you to go drink cough syrup in a martini glass, unless you have a cold, of course.

Read something fun. OK, pull out your InStyle (or Sports Illustrated) and go at it. As long as you're filling your head with informative news, it doesn't hurt to emerse yourself in something fun too. Plus, who doesn't want to know the eating habits of Jessica Simpson?

Take a longer lunch. If you're only allowed 30 minute lunch breaks, don't go over that limit. But if they give you some leeway, say, up to an hour long lunch, then take all of it. You may not have much to do, but it beats sitting at your desk for that extra 30 minutes. Lounge in the grass, although make sure what you're sitting on is in fact grass. That could make for an awkward return to the job or classroom.

Discover the Twin Cities. Go outside of your comfort zone. If you don't venture to the Twin Cities very often, then learn what it has to offer and make your weekend plans. Knowing you will be trying something new at the end of the week will help make the days fly by. The Twin Cities is known for its night life, so find out why.

Go for a run. You don't have to run a marathon, but even going for a 20 minute jog will make you feel accomplished, especially if it's been a slow, unproductive day.

When all else fails, just do what I do: write a blog.

Hollywood's latest flick 'Splices' morality

*Warning: There are spoiler alerts, so if you were planning on going to see it—don't.

I don't know what's worse: sitting through 45 minutes of stop-and-go traffic or sitting through 1 hour and 44 minutes of "Splice". I would have to say "Splice".

When this latest "horror" movie hit the big screen, I was prepared to be scared silly, especially since every time the preview would come on TV I could barely watch it without yelling, "How scary! How scary!" But the only thing scary about this movie was the fact that Adrien Brody decided to star in it after reading the script. What's also disturbing is that Hollywood doesn't seem to know how to properly advertise its movies without misleading its audience, said Miss Led.

The preview was clearly trying to promote a sci-fi horror movie; instead, it turned out to be a twisted "drama" that follows a bizarre couple who work as scientists who splice the DNA of different animals together to create new species that can help cure diseases. That is how they created Dren, whose DNA is comprised of amphibian and bird DNA. And oh yes, human DNA, which is a project their bosses did not approve. But of course, if these two scientists didn't break the rules, there would be no movie. There would also be one less disturbed viewer.

Now the first hour wasn't so bad. I sat there watching Dren grow at an accelerated rate (she went from a baby to a toddler within a matter of days) and kept waiting for her to grow little horns (which wouldn't have been so outlandish since she sprouted wings as a teenager) and start doing some splicing and dicing of her own. Instead, I had to watch Adrien Brody and Sarah Polley love and care for this thing as if it was a human being when in reality it is a thing.

I will say it did get scary toward the end when a sex scene ensued between Brody and the fish-like, bird-like, human-like creature. Half of the audience burst out in awkward laughter. The other half must have been so disgusted that laughter just wouldn't come. I fell into both categories. I wish I had also fell into the category of people who walked out after Dren changed sex (yes, she changed into a he) and raped his/her "mother" in the end where Sarah Polley then finally killed it. Too bad she didn't kill it sooner since we all know what happens when people have unprotected sex, even if it is with a fish-like, bird-like, human-like creature.

Take my advice

Since running my first 12k race I've decided to post some helpful tips as well as dispel some false training "necessities".

They say: Don't eat certain foods the night before the race (excessive amounts of dairy, candy, or certain kinds of meat).

I say: Eat whatever you want! Ice cream, puppy chow, you name it, I say eat it.

They say: Wear minimal clothing so you don't chafe or are uncomfortable.

I say: Sure, you don't want to wear your favorite Christmas sweater for the race, but you also don't want to be that 60-year-old man wearing booty shorts or that 45-year-old woman wearing a sports bra without a T-shirt. Be comfortable and practical, but don't cause people to cringe when they look your way.

They say: hydrate, hydrate, hydrate!

I say: Yes, you don't want to keel over from dehydration, but you also don't want to have to use a porta potty 2 miles into the race (or ever, if necessary).

They say: Nature's "music" is what fuels the runner.

I say: Birds chirping and grass swaying sounds good, but Modest Mouse sounds better.

They say: This is your time to shine, so look your best.

I say: You're not trying to find your soul mate or win a beauty pageant. As long as you wear some sunblock you're good to go.

Sweet victory

I don't wake up at 5:30 a.m. very often. When I do, it's usually to catch a plane to some exotic land. Or there are also those few times where I've woken up in the wee hours of the morning out of fear that I failed to save the world from its impending doom. Today I woke up because of a new fear: running a 12k race in Stillwater. With my eyes still groggy from a lack of sleep (4 1/2 hour to be exact) I dragged myself out of bed, threw on my running shoes, ate a bowl of delightful cereal and was out the door. I (along with my dear friend Dani) embarked to run our first race ever.

When we arrived to the Stillwater High School to take the shuttle the starting line, I felt like I was back in high school—even though I was homeschooled and the majority of the bus was filled with middle aged men and women. Still, with my many bus rides that I've taken I've never heard so much noise and "excited" clamor. Did they realize that it was 6:30 a.m.?! What is there to talk about at such an early hour?

We arrived at the starting line downtown Stillwater on 95 with 20 minutes to spare before the race. Everywhere I looked I saw old men with cut-off shorts, women in their 50s wearing short shorts and sports bras, and the longest portapotty lines I've ever seen. Plus, I can't forget those seasoned runners with their water bottle belts and forehead bands.

Once the race began we were on our merry way. There were people of all ages, shapes and sizes running side by side. Sure we've all had different life experiences. And sure, we all have different dreams, values and beliefs. But running on that pavement today created a bond that made me understand what draws so many people to running these races. It's more than just "getting in shape" or winning a prize. It's about sharing an experience—one that calls you to train for weeks, wake up earlier than early, and want to fall on your knees in exhaustion and pain. Not to mention there's the satisfaction of making bystanders laugh when bolting across the finish line while flailing my arms in sweet victory.

Drama, drama, drama

Sometimes I forget that people in the theater are not only dramatic on stage, but in every aspect of their life. They forget that once the cameras stop rolling or when the stage lights have dimmed, so too should their "dramatics." Alas, this is never the case with theater people. Life is a stage for these aspiring actors and actresses, and they are going to make the most of it. The world revolves around them, as in any play or movie they star in, because they of course are the star. 

I'm so incredibly grateful that I dismissed the notion to become an actress. I'll admit, as a young girl I loved the stage and adored playing a role. My life, however, was never the stage. I had enough common sense to realize that. 

Now the ironic part is that I dearly love people who have chosen the theater route. Individually, they are fantastic people whose company I enjoy. But when theater people are all clumped in a group, that's when I begin to throw up. That's when they forget that the world doesn't revolve around them; instead, they believe that people should bow in their presence. When really, what are they contributing to the world? NOTHING. I dismissed becoming an actress because I wanted to impact this world in a deeper way than making popcorn sales soar. 

I love the theater. I support the theater. I love theater people individually, but if you put them all in a room together that would be time for my exit cue.  

Suffering from senioritis? Join the club

A new pandemic has hit Bethel. H1N1 had its time to shine, but now senioritis is taking the lime light for a bit. 

How can one be motivated to do anything during his or her last semester of college? Good grades have always been important to me — and they still are — but I've caught myself frequently using the phrase, "I'm a senior and it's my last semester. I'll deal." And I'm not alone.

I'm no slacker by any means, but it's interesting that "senioritis" can grab a hold of the straight A student as well as the average C producing student. It's been a long journey of midterms, finals, projects, and massive research papers, and once that final semester hits I think my whole being cries out to slow down and smell the roses (or the snow). 

I still care about doing my best; I still care about getting an A (yes, I'm a nerd), but honestly I'm tired. And there isn't much good to look forward to after graduation. Hmm, let's see here: unemployment, moving back home (although the home-cooked meals and free laundry make it a plus) and the fear that I will never get that "dream job" that I paid so dearly for here at Bethel. 

Who knows, maybe life isn't so glum. I just hope that a cure can be found, and soon. 

Dog food and fire alarms

I learned an important fact about myself last night: If there was ever a fire there is no way I would survive. I would be cooked—extra crispy. How did I come to this realization that I could someday be the next crispy food delight on the McDonald's menu? Maybe it was a revelation from God. Or maybe it was my roommate shaking me awake at 1:30 a.m. telling me the fire alarm was going off. In a daze, I hopped out of bed, threw my sneakers on, and stumbled out the door of 799. That was a big mistake. 

Shivering in the frigid Minnesota night air, I imagined how warm those potential flames inside Fountain Terrace could have kept me nice and toasty. Instead, I was hovering around numerous groggy college students who felt as numb and cold as I did. Come to find out this morning, there was no fire or real danger. Instead, some lovely college students decided it would be funny to pull the fire alarm. Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize I was back in junior high, which isn't even possible since I was homeschooled. 

I don't understand people's fascination with fire alarms—or High School Musical—both which tend to burn our common sense away. 

P.s. Today I learned that Taco Bell and Arby's use meat that is the same grade level as dog food. DOG FOOD!?!?! Oh my...