Con la Mega no se juega.

I blog to you right now from a bus. Yes, it's been done before, and far better,  but never so Megafully. Thats right, I'm on the Megabus, which means I just spent 45 minutes waiting on a rainy, freezing Chicago sidewalk before cramming on board my sad, damp little self and my too big suitcase--but only after a crazy dude extorted a dollar from me for "helping". Travel--so diverting! 

I just returned from the imperial capitol, as father-of-Lizzie's-in-Paign calls it (see how I protect his anonymity?). That's right. W-A-S-H-I-N-G-T-O-N baby, D-C. Alternative Spring Break was light on the body shots and heavy on the informational interviews, so just how I like it. I seriously had a fantastic time. Highlights were seeing a Frenchy movie about public schools (El-Nugs and I later debriefed on the accuracy/nostalgia angle; both of us had repressed the memory that gym was called "E.P.S."), dining at a chic restaurant with my lovely Chambana roommate and her fun pals, shopping like we ladies love to do, and enjoying public transportation that did not involve waiting on a dark sidewalk (I am referring to Champaign, although this also describes my MegaBus experience. I need to either get a chauffeur or learn to drive.  Anyone need a good driver in need of a passenger?)

Back to the frozen prairie, I guess. In an hour and a half I will turn 25 on a bus. That is either kind of funny or deeply sad. Let's go with the funny angle, shall we? I am waiting for this quarterlife crisis business to set in, but I feel ok about my whereabouts (except for the immediate, bus whereabouts). I like my career direction, I like my dude, I like my friends a lot (though a good portion of them are on the Eastern Seaboard), I have all my teeth. What's not to like? This makes me worry that I will have a TERRIBLE midlife crisis, though. I am totally going to have dye my hair with Grecian Formula and buy a Lamborghini (which I maybe still won't be able to drive?)

Next week in L-I-P: California: knows how to party. 

This tornado loves you.

As I trudged along Green Street last night, ubiquitous grey Jansport strapped to my back, a wee bunny hopped across my path, and I was reminded of my very first bunny sighting in Chambana, back in August, when I was walking to Big Lots. (Remember that, blogosphere?) I think this means that spring might finally be coming to East Central Illinois, but I don't want to get my hopes up quite yet. However, the weather has been improving somewhat--it was nearly 70 degrees yesterday! Downright tropical. With the change in the weather, of course, comes increased tornado danger here in the Midwest. Luckily, last week was Severe Weather Week on WILL-AM, so I am totally prepared if one strikes. 

It's been a long winter. Not so long that we had to start milling wheat in the coffee grinder, but still--it feels like it's been cold forever. I think that's why I haven't posted since Christmas; I haven't been unhappy at all, but I just haven't had the energy. I was too concerned with conserving body heat to try to be witty, and besides, my life is pretty dull. I spent my longest unbroken stretch ever in Chamb-Urb--from the end of January to last weekend, when I went to Chicago--and that was too long. I got a little crazy. I like it here just fine, but I do better when I have little breaks to look forward too. Also, I have had the Midwestern death flu for the past, oh, seventeen years, which has put a bit of a damper on the old spirits.

God, I'm a whiner. I think I just need some hydropathic medicine:

Phew! Now I feel better. Thank god for water, which cures and prevents all diseases.

Ok, I was blogging merrily, and then Pat started watching some insane, accusatory video about how your climbing backpack isn't good enough. It kind of broke my concentration. The boy has mountains on the brain. Luckily, he is going backcountry avalanche ski-climbing or something like that over spring break, so that might alleviate some of his outdoor-lust. Meanwhile, I will be flitting around D.C., wearing uncomfortable corporate ladywear while networking with museum professionals in an attempt to someday secure employment. WOO SPRING BREAK D.C.!!!

Maybe I should start solving mysteries in my (copious) spare time, ala Veronica Mars. (Remember when I told everyone I wanted to be a private eye after graduation?) I've been watching quite a bit of V-Mars, and I've come to a couple conclusions:

1. Weird shit goes down in Southern California.

2. Veronica Mars is only good at solving mysteries because she's hot.

I don't claim to hold a candle to Kristen Bell, but maybe I can start exposing the seamy underbelly of Champaign-Urbana. I mean, sure, it SEEMS like a boring old college town, but there are probably tons of mysteries I can uncover! Like, what is that weird plastic-y smell that's everywhere? Why does the Orchard Downs bus always say it's going to campus, but then it really goes to this weird subdivision called Yankee Ridge, causing me to be perpetually late? Who thought that those hideous octagonal buildings that besmirch the C-U skyline were a good idea?

I'm on the case. Right after I watch some more Veronica Mars.