Flight of the Conchords released their most recent album.

As many of you have figured out by now, I just can’t get enough of Bret and Jemaine these days. For starters, I just bought the first season and then had to purchase their new album. I took a trip up to Portland, ME yesterday and couldn’t wait to listen to my new CD. Having bought their most recent album (the release date, as I said in my first piece about them, was April 22, 2008). In fact, the album was so funny, I found myself ignoring the scenery.

It turns out, this CD, not surprisingly, is as equally as funny as the television show. In fact, I was so distracted from its hilarity - my face actually ached after listening to all the songs and laughing so hard - I had to turn it off for a while. You see, I’ve never been to Maine, and this is the time of year to go (it’s breathtakingly lush and devoid of humans, which is odd for New England). So after touring parts of Portland and Portsmouth, NH, I had to get my FOC fix. Read More »

It’s as vivid today as it was when it happened five years ago: Chris and I bodysurfing on an abandoned beach just outside of Acapulco and Stephanie looking at us with wonder from the shore. He and I would get slammed, and slammed again, then come up smiling from sand-filled ear to water-logged ear. Just before going in, we looked out into the vast horizon. The sky was clear blue. There were no clouds in sight. The ocean held us in its wake. Suddenly, we both gasped at the same time: a flying stingray briefly jumped out of the water just fifteen feet away.

“Did you see that?” he asked me.

“That was so cool,” I said.

Christopher Cady was my best friend’s boyfriend. He and Stephanie — like myself — had a real case of wanderlust. With no one else could I share my travel stories and feel completely understood. Only they understood why I would want to attend college in Maine, a continent and ocean away from my home in Hawaii: for the pure challenge and unpredictability.

Steph and I lived vicariously through each other, traversing the globe and telling each other tale after wondrous tale. Their travels brought them from Maine to Mexico to Taos to Central America to Boston, but culminated abruptly in Chamonix one fateful afternoon in January 2004. Chris had prepared an engagement ring before their trip. He didn’t get a chance to give it to her because, despite the storm that was brewing that late afternoon, he took an off-piste route and went missing. Read More »

Days as a Freshman: 111
Mood: Cold and happy

“I didn’t know you knew Sammy.”

Justin and I walked away from the dorms, down a side path on the outskirts of campus, our breath grey against the dark shadows of the woods.

“I didn’t know you knew her.” The cold night air was scratching at my hands. I stuffed them into my pockets and gripped the fabric, flexing the ice out of my fingers. “You could have told me.”

“It never came up.” Justin pulled his sweatshirt hood over his head, jumping onto a small wooden bridge that led into the woods. “Wanna go down here for a bit? It might snow.”

“You sure nothing wild will eat me?” I joined him on the bridge. “I have finals tomorrow.”

“There’s nothing wild in these woods, kid. Believe me.”

Justin disappeared into the tall pines and I followed close behind, wishing I at least had a hat, and wondering just when I was going to go over my notes for the big English final on Monday.

Justin had knocked on Sammy’s door just to say hi, stopping dead in the doorway when he saw Rebecca and I. His eyes slid around the room, bouncing off our faces, his mouth trying to decide what exactly should come out first. Feeling the air pulling tight around everyone, I decided to do something I don’t normally do and spoke up. Read More »

Days as a Freshman: 92
Mood: Happy to be home

“Hey!”

I waved at a group of kids standing around a small red Toyota, feeling a pang of anxiety as the car continued to stay small, no matter how close I came to it. This was going to be a tight fit.

“Hey! She makes it at the last second, as always!” Jonathan opened up the trunk and started to push things around in the back. “Thought you were gonna walk home.”

Grabbing my overstuffed bag, Crystal’s boyfriend heaved it into the last remaining empty space in the trunk, pushing it against other bags and backpacks to make room for the door to close. As he jammed the bags together with his elbow, I cringed, thinking about all the clothes, make-up, and hair products that might be exploding all over the insides of my suitcase.

“Thanks again for giving me a ride,” I said, stuffing some loose brown hair into my winter hat. “I would have been stuck here.”

“No prob, bob.” Slamming the trunk, Jon smiled and walked around to the driver’s seat, motioning to the two other people already in the back, “it’s probably gonna be a tight squeeze, but it’s only like 2 hours. We can make it.” Read More »

Days as a Freshman: 83
Mood: Totally unable to concentrate

The November wind pushed itself under my scarf, biting at the skin on my neck. I pulled my jacket collar up as high as it would go, wishing I had worn a heavier sweater.

Coming from Maine, you’d think I’d be better prepared each time winter touched down, but every year it caught me off guard, snaking through my window and startling me with it’s freezing nights and frozen mornings. Some people were built to appreciate winter. I was not one of those people.

Crashing through piles of leaves, I made my way through the quad, the campus still asleep at 10 AM on a Saturday. Part of me wished I was still asleep. Still warm under my comforter instead of rushing with wet hair toward the Soccer House, a place I had no desire to even look at, let alone spend hours studying in.

Sasha had asked me to come over that night at the coffee house, pleading with me to help him with the chemistry problems he had missed going over with Daniel B. My initial reaction had been to make up an excuse; to come up with anything to keep me away from sitting alone in the Soccer House with Sasha, but standing in front of him, feeling his gaze and the extra pressure of his tall, silent friend, I ended up smiling and saying sure. Sure I’ll help. Sure I’ll do whatever you ask. I’m Grace, the pushover loser. Read More »