Thursday, May 7, 2009

missing: my bike

Hello my name is Aimee and this is a real life adventure...
(or what I would classify as another disaster)

Just 13 days ago I decided to have a productive Friday and forced myself out of bed around 10:00am to go downtown to work on a presentation project rather than lay in my bathing suit acquiring skin cancer. I hopped on my white beach cruiser (with really neat-o pink accents) and cycled down to the light rail stop. After multiple attempts on my life by oblivious drivers I decided to cut through campus and lock my bike up on one of racks, as there are a plethora at the Rural and University light rail stop (and I have been banned from bringing my bike on the light rail).

I took the train downtown where I had a semi-productive day of working on my presentation while distracting my colleague and wonderful confidant Kellen from his home work, and annoying Dr. Ariel Rodriguez. Luckily for them my partner in crime and fellow blogger Candi was in her office just down the hall. We took an hour and a half lunch break and walked down to Baja Fresh where I purchased a ridiculously large cup and filled it to the brim with fountain Coca-Cola, my favorite drink. When we got back from lunch we pretended to work while we chatted about Candi's secret love and Dirty Dancing II: Havana Nights via ASU Google email chat. When I was no longer bearable Dr. Rodriguez shut his door and Kellen pretended he had a meeting to attend. Candi and I decided to head back to Tempe, as we were exhausted from lunch and gossiping. After swinging by Mojo (we really deserved frozen yogurt) I was dropped off at the light rail stop because I didn't want to leave my bike all alone overnight on the bike racks.

My poor, unsuspecting self hopped out of the car and shimmied (I was listening to Pandora on my phone, officially the coolest thing EVER) across the bus station to where I had parked my bike. I got a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach when I started getting close to the seemingly empty bike racks. I looked left, and I looked right. I turned all the way around, but I still could not find my glorious hunk of white and pink medal that I so shakily had ridden to the exact spot earlier in the day. I continued to look about the scene as my eyes started to tear.



The bus stop weirdo's stared at me like I was the odd one, and one man even tried to help me locate the bus I was looking for. But it wasn't public transportation I was looking for, it was my bike which now appeared to be stolen. At a loss for words and with watery eyes I started the long walk home.

Despite a love struck Jack Johnson serenading my ears I could not shake the feeling of a broken heart. The fifteen minute walk seemed to go on for 15 years as I watched other ASU comrades fly by me on skateboards, scooters, and most painful of all: bicycles. I thought of my fellow PRSA officer Mark, who had his bike stolen just a few weeks before (however his loss was greater than mine, as he is actually good at riding bikes). He consoled me by suggesting our bikes found each other in bike heaven somewhere, or where ever it is that bike thieves take our precious pieces of finely crafted machinery.

I must admit that when passing by a beach cruiser on or near campus I perform a double take hoping that one day justice will be served and my ridiculously heavy and poorly ridden bike will come back to me. In the mean time this cruel act has left me with but one mission. I must find another bike to dodge death upon, spill my coffee on, and take on the light rail (maybe) so next semester I can sleep for ten more minutes before starting yet another adventure.

reading day bliss

Hello my name is Aimee and this is a real life adventure...



Today was an epic day, academically speaking. Reading day is normally celebrated with heavy partying the Tuesday before and an impossible amount of studying and writing to do during the day (usually performed hungover). Despite deep concentration and extensive rehabilitation by many students on campus, around 8:30pm life can be spotted. Creeping out of residence halls and libraries ASU students flock to one of the three all-you-care-to-eat dining facilities on the Tempe campus. We stand in line for a half hour while being mocked by a man in a pancake costume surrounded by others complaining about the amount of studying left to do, all for one purpose- finals breakfast. The tradition started in 2003 (as stated by the staff shirts) when ASU decided to serve a free meal to the student population as a way to help prepare us for what lay ahead.

Finals.

Of course I happen to love this Arizona State tradition and have attended almost every finals breakfast since freshman year, always with a smile. Whether I am stressed out about last minute studying, or completely relaxed with nothing to do I can always be found dragging my neighbors, friends, and roommate out of our rooms and towards one of the dining halls. Tonight I was especially impressed with the accompanying activities the meal had to offer. While waiting in line, I was given the option to create a priceless craft in literally a matter of seconds. After carefully choosing my fill-in-the-blank, circle shaped piece of paper I wrote something clever and handed it a woman in a finals t-shirt. Thirty seconds later my piece of paper was encased with a pin on the back and hanging off of my shirt.



Recently becoming the President Elect of the Parks and Recreation Student Association (yes, there will be more to come on this later) I decided to take advantage of this light hearted craft, and creat my first promotional piece for our student organization. Despite being tacky and homemade I feel extremely accomplished (especially in comparison to how productive I was today).

So boys and girls, the moral of the story is that despite how much crunching you still have to do or how many more pages need to be written, you should always make time for the little things in life because you never know when the chance to make your own custom button will come around. Until I figure out how to mass produce these things you'll just have to mask your jealousy when you see me running around campus with it stuck to various articles of clothing.

The only thing left to do is pop an aspirin (incase you're still fighting off a headache), chug a redbull, and get into the spirit of finals.

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

bored and hungry

Hello my name is Aimee and this is a real life adventure...


















As I was sitting in my usual spot on the fifth floor today I was approached by Dr. Ariel Rodriguez. He came bearing a certificate for a free salad from McDonald's. I soon found out that I was not the only recipient of this free southwest salad, but my partner in StAR crime Candi also had received one of these stellar passes. While we were attempting to work on our TDM 350 paper an uncontrollable hunger swept over us, and we took the opportunity to cash in our certificates for a savory snack.



After locating the closest McDonald's we threw on our spectacular shades and headed north on the light rail (as you can see, it was a rather blustery day). We exited the train at the Indian School stop and made our way to the establishment handing out free lunch.

















I must say, for a salad at McDonald's I was quite impressed. The chicken was extremely tasty and crunchy tortilla strips complimented the southwestern dressing. For a free lunch it was darn good. After enjoying our salads we grabbed a vanilla cone (an essential when visiting any McDonald's establishment) and headed back to where the magic happens- the sixth floor of the UCENT building.


I got to thinking about our free meal and exactly how healthy it was for us. I visited McDonald's website (in yet another attempt to procrastinate writing my tourism marketing paper) and found that our free salad actually cost our love handles 430 calories with another 100 calories including the dressing. This didn't really strike me until I realized that for an additional ten calories I could have consumed a big mac. Here I thought Candi and I were being clever in our eating habits when really we did nothing to deserve the low fat vanilla ice cream cones (which weigh in at about 150 calories).


This should come to no surprise, but I felt betrayed by the fast food industry. I guess there is no such thing as a free lunch.