The Unusual

Have yrself a merry little whatever

isitcool — Mon, 05 Dec 2011 10:58:53 -0500

The Unusual is going on holiday.

We’ll be back in January.

Come hang with us.

Don't Ask Me For Adderall Again

vittibombb — Fri, 02 Dec 2011 12:43:00 -0500

During my three years at the University of Miami, I’ve run into a certain paradox which repeatedly appears at the end of every semester: students buying drugs to assist them with schoolwork.

First off, to every student sitting in the library, or “Club Richter” as semi-motivated facebook-whoring dorks call it, you should be slapped. Never in my right mind would I congregate in this center of academic slavery without an appropriate disguise, much less post it to Facebook as “Club Richter.” To make it even worse, these vermin scurry around campus looking for Adderall or any uppers they can get their hands on so they can “focus.”

Everybody needs to stop pretending they came to this school for any reason other than to get fucked up on multitudes of drugs, live off their parents money, and lay face down on the beach in 80 degree sunlight. If you’re a high school senior applying to Miami for any other reasons, throw out the application immediately and check out the Ivy League, aka hotbed of beat chicks and teetotaling do-gooders who spend their summers in Cambodia digging holes in the ground for people to shit in.

How does this drug even work? Do people actually swallow it? And it makes you do your homework better? Last time I took it, all I wanted to do was throw bricks through windows and punch somebody in the face. My schoolwork stayed tucked neatly in the way back of my vibrant mind, where it shall remain for all of eternity.

Bottom line: if you are purchasing an upper, such as Adderal, and it is not going up your nose on a Saturday night before South Beach, you’re doing it wrong.

Best I ever had...

getoffmiami — Thu, 01 Dec 2011 20:11:05 -0500

The best class I have ever taken at the University of Miami wasn’t a class at all. In fact, I think that classes are the least important academic facet of University life. Don’t get me wrong. I study my ass off, and take my grades very seriously. What I mean is that there are more important things that students can do, academically, outside of class.

A substantial part of the school’s endowment goes toward attracting guest lecturers. Every single week, there is some major presentation being done by some major speaker somewhere on campus. The best part is that you generally don’t have to belong to any particular school to attend these presentations. I for instance, am a Business Law – Ecosystem Science & Policy Major double major. I have a far wider range of academic interest than can be covered by the classes I take for those two majors. Thanks to the tuition I pay, I can have it all! Thus far I have heard the Dalai Lama speak, I have attended lectures made by small and big time entrepreneurs, lawyers, and I have seen other students present research projects that they have spent years working on. In fact, just this morning, I attended a seminar by the South Florida Water Management District.

There are competitions, too, to benefit from. Last year, there was a Business Plan Competition that I took part in. The prize for the winner was $10,000. Each team, whether an individual or group, spent the entire year putting together a business plan, and presented it in front of a panel of judges. Essentially, that competition wraps up everything that you will ever learn in the business school, and puts it into a practical setting.

The least effective way of benefitting from college is by simply going to class.

Uh Oh...Liz is watching you again...

itselizabitch — Thu, 01 Dec 2011 17:56:05 -0500

I don’t dig dudes in Fedoras. Not only is the uber-feminine summertime accessory totally two years ago, its festival season targeted look is repeatedly overplayed everywhere from lincoln road to the local middle school. No thanks. In my opinion, it’s always looked douche-y but now I have a legitimate reason to express resentment. It didn’t even work for K-Fed, before he became obese, when he was still married to Britney Spears. I just want to put the (male) fedora in the vault alongside….

Summer scarves. They are redundant in themselves but guys rockin’ the man-scarf just takes it to the next level. I don’t really see the appeal in dating someone of the opposite sex if all they do is jock your style, anyway. Thin cloth draped around a thick(ish) neck for no potential of providing warmth on a shitty day seems so silly.

MUSTACHE TATTOOS

I can’t tell you how many people I know who pride themselves on a tatted index finger. Like, I guess it seemed kind of cool the first time I saw it… back when I thought I would never see someone else drunkenly pull the balls to permanently commit to a trend discovered in high school. At this point, it’s so unoriginal it would become, yet another, repeat offender.

MUSTACHES IN GENERAL

I just don’t get it. That get-up would be just as cute, minus the stash. Why are mustaches so trendy right now? They’re not even fun… I’ve usually just learned to associate them with that tickle-y feeling and I don’t like it too much. Am I missing something?

STAR OF DAVID TATTOOS

Only in Miami, have I seen people inked with irony. Religion in general is such a killed tattoo concept, but this just makes no sense. My Jewish mother would KILL me if I ever surprised the world with a tat, based solely upon the arguments by the laws of Judaism. I guess I should be more sensitive toward the expressions of individuals. But still.

Ok, I just thought this one was too hilarious.

PRICE INCREASE AT STARBUCKS

The community of Starbucks-obsessed, ‘daily fix’-esque frequent buyers clearly are not caffeine-obsessed. I won’t even go for the venti and still end up paying close to ten dollars. It just doesn’t work out for those people who actually run on caffeine and/or amphetamines. The rip-off prices, paired with the obnoxiously loud voices of the bratty customers and exhaustively long lines have really ruined my Starbucks on campus experience altogether. Now I tote around a little bottle of caffeine pills. How much fun do you think I’m having.

THE ‘SMOKERS POLE’

Biggest waste of time on campus. Who is going to take the time to find the designated smoking locations and then seek out a stupid pole. And why do they have to label that shit so gaudily? We can read, for Christ’s sake. Don’t make the poor smokers feel bad about themselves, now.

SWAG

This is getting really embarrassing. How many ways are people going to incorporate the damn catch phrase into a dumb sentence (or not!) and print it on a t-shirt. People just really need to cool it on the graphic t-shirt with corny catch-phrase look. Let’s please go back to a time of a little more mystery, where communication isn’t so effortlessly blunt?

DOGS AS A MALE ACCESSORY

Don’t take this the wrong way. I am obsessed with little animals, especially dogs. My little Puff is my pride and joy. But it is so embarrassingly disrespectful towards those dumb enough to fall for it. OH MY GOD you have a dog?? Sleep with me now, please! As if. You’re actually going to need half a brain for that one, homeboy. And you better be spoiling the shit out of that damn dog.

SUNGLASSES AT NIGHT/INDOORS

Again, another Miami-dominant demographic. Sunglasses at night were totally Corey Hart’s first. Can’t we at least give the one-hit-wonder that? I understand there are certain dire occasions in which the sunglasses at night or indoors are really necessary in public. Look, if I could have it my way, there would be no rules regarding public behavior while under the influence and we wouldn’t have to worry about this problem. But, this is Florida so people are either going to be shielding their eyes from sun or shielding the public’s eyes from their dilated pupils. If you’re posted in the corner of some nightclub with the shades, OF COURSE I’m going to be reluctant to back it up on you… you could be some nasty-ass grease bomb hiding behind there. And usually, you are.

Observations of a gym gawker

laurenzies2468 — Thu, 01 Dec 2011 15:06:05 -0500

The Rat used to be the number one “people watching” spot on campus. Now that the Rat sucks, the gym has taken its spot. The Patti and Allan Herbert Wellness Center is one of the most interesting places at UM. Today while trying to distract my mind from the torture I was inflicting on my body, I did some serious people watching. Sometimes the iPod just doesn’t cut it. I noticed that I could take one look at a person and tell their gym history.

There are the regulars. As a non-regular, I hate the regulars. These are the people that go to the gym 5-7 times a week. By hate I mean envy. I don’t understand how these people can convince themselves to work out every day. No excuses. The regulars have a routine. They go to the gym so often that spontaneity is off the table.

Female regulars are decked out in the tightest spandex and sports bra, with some sort of loose tank top or t-shirt they acquired in high school or college. Their routine consists of about 30 minutes on the elliptical, 30 minutes on the treadmill, and 15 minutes of “abs”. They have good bodies. Skinny arms, semi-muscular legs. They are fit, but not too fit.

Male regulars wear self-made muscle tees. As usual, it’s always a competition for men. They only receive satisfaction from the fact that their muscles are bigger than their frat bro’s – not from the fact that they are improving their health by working out. I’m clearly not so familiar with the male routine but I assume its about 20 minutes of cardio followed by a rotation though the machines. Male regulars also have good bodies. They focus on developing their arms so they can show off their muscles on Saturdays at the football games.

Then there are the freshmen who just started going to the gym. I can spot these guys from a mile away. They are the scrawny white guys who still wear muscle tees to show their small but developing muscles. The newbies still don’t have a routine. They usually follow whatever their more experienced friend from the dorms does. I love watching the newbies struggle to catch up. It’s so cute.

My favorites are the girls who could lose a few pounds. These girls are not obese but are visibly bigger than usual. They are the ones struggling to make going to the gym an every day habit. There periods where they go to the gym three times a week, and there are periods where they give up and say that working out makes no impact on their body so there’s no point in going. They don’t have enough workout clothes so they find themselves doing laundry more often then usual. These girls are my fav because I totally feel their pain.

The showoffs. You know who I’m talking about. The guys who purposely position themselves next to the cardio area, near the mats so that they have an audience. Sometimes you’ll find the showoffs doing cool tricks with a jump rope. Sometimes they move the stepping block out so that they are more visible when jumping. Today I saw a guy doing weird-ass arm and leg exercises in the middle of the walkway. Like come on man, you look like a retard.

The oldies. Scratch what I said before. These guys are my fav. I always wonder what they’re doing at the UM gym. Yeah, it’s a very nice gym. But not nice enough to be worth working out with students that are younger than their own kids. Although I must say, every time I see an old man on a machine I think of my adorable grandpa who just started walking on the treadmill every day because of his diabetes.

The girls who know how to use machines. Out of all the girls that go to the gym only about 15% normally use the machines. I’ll admit, I’m not one of these girls. The machines are just so….ugh. My thinking is that the machines will only make a difference in your arms or legs if you spend a significant time on them. 10-15 minutes won’t help. All the power to the girls who have the patience for the machines.

I had to cut my workout short to make it home in time for XFactor so that’s all the people watching I was able to do today. Feel free to add any other category of gym-goers that you know of.

I'm no angel. I sell underwear.

isitcooljenramsden — Thu, 01 Dec 2011 12:58:50 -0500

This year I decided to be a real person and become part of the work force. My place of work? Victoria’s Secret. The brand associated with fun, sex, confidence, and of course their famous Victoria’s Secret angels. Those crazy beautiful models who all girls want to be and all guys want to screw. I work for the company, but I am definitely no angel. Neither are my coworkers.

I need to keep myself out of trouble. With too much spare time trouble is what I find, or it finds me. So I decided to make some money instead of spending it. I’m attempting to learn about responsibility and how to become a bit more self-sufficient. So far, it seems to be working out okay.

The employees have to project a fun and energetic attitude. You’ve gotta be peppy! This is especially hard to do when I’m really dealing with a crippling hangover. More often than not I feel like I’m acting instead of being a sales associate. I pretend to be disgustingly upbeat, I pretend that my customers aren’t half-crazy and annoying, and I need to pretend that this job isn’t completely ridiculous.

A typical day involves getting to work in my all black attire barely making it on time. I really want to wear by new combat boots there, but I guess they’re too badass for them. So then, I read the sales plan for the day and put on my pink measuring tape and the huge black walkie talkie with the sexy earpiece that I love to wear oh so much. I have a love/hate relationship with that thing. I love that it’s great to communicate with the other associates to help each other throughout the store so I’m not screaming across the store and making a fool of myself. On the other hand, I hate to have my CSL (crew sale’s lead, aka manger), constantly barking in my ear telling me to open a credit card, talk to the customer, and nagging me about what I’m doing wrong for everyone to hear. Throughout my shift I mindlessly fold and organize underwear and bras in Roy G. Biv fashion. I clean up after lazy, rude customers who decide to mess up a full drawer of panties to get to that one that they need. Like really? Thanks bitch.

At a store selling lingerie you are probably wondering what type of things I see there. So yes, I see tits all the time, it doesn’t even phase me. I also need to measure women so find their “perfect fit”. To find a woman’s cup size you need two measurements. The first is found by wrapping the measuring tape around her back and under her armpitsand connecting the two sides of the tape together in the area above her bust, so let’s say she’s 34 inches. The second measurement uses the same method but measures around her bust to its apex (I guess it’s a euphemism for nipple?), and you take the second measurement, let’s say it’s a 36 and subtract is from the first. I hope you college students are able to calculate that 36-34 = 2. Good job. So that measurement means that she is a B cup. The difference between the first measurement is cup size, 1-A, 2-B, 3-C, 4-D. So this hypothetical client is a 34B. So now you know what we we’re dong when you feel uncomfortable with some stranger getting uncomfortably closer to your twins.

I work alongside a bunch of insane people, myself included. I’ve got some bipolar managers who love me one minute and make me question if I’m going to be fired on the regular. We’ve also got the hardcore VSers who totally fall for all the company jargon and aim to “inspire her to buy” all of our dreamy, romantic, (add stupid glamorous word here) products. My favorites are our two gays who make me laugh and talk to me in Spanish to mess with me. We also have two other guys working there, both straight. The newest male hire has become the store’s much needed man candy. I work with a bunch of nut jobs, and I think that the other half are virgins, so they’re obviously crazy too. What I want to know is how does a virgin sell sex and lingerie?…I bet their specialty is the granny panties.

Even weirder are many of the customers. They are my personal entertainment for the day. Many come into the store with their fluffy little lapdogs dressed in frilly dresses or pink sweaters and a rhinest

one collar. There is a full spectrum of clientele ranging from college students, MILFs, grandmothers, to nervous boyfriends, husbands, foreigners, you name it. The most bizarre thing that has happened to me there is when a man called asking about underwear for himself. I made him aware that we only sold women’s underwear and then he went into great detail that his package was too small for normal guys underwear. I had to stifle a laugh and totally knew I was being pranked, I guess people don’t have better things to do with their life. Neither did I at the time, so I indulged in the conversation. There are also those nutjobs that try to return stuff they’ve already worn. Sweetie, it’s easy to tell it’s been used when there’s a ton of bronzer caked onto the white bra you’re holding.

I’ve been making this job sound drab but somehow I love it. It’s great to help someone who is truly appreciates what you’ve done. I may be giving into the Victoria Secretness, but it’s great to make someone feel a little bit confident about themselves, or to see a guy nervously entering the store to do something nice for his girlfriend, wife, or girlfriends. Some people really are a pleasure to help. There are some interesting people among the rude, self-absorbed majority.

Somehow I’ve managed to keep this job for three months, between almost getting fired to wanting to quit and get the eff out of there. But I somehow always end up walking back through those doors, even that one time I had a midnight to 9am shift to merchandise the whole damn place.

Why do I keep going back? There’s perks. I’ve probably gotten over $200 worth of free stuff this month. From bra and panty sets, tote bags, perfume, and makeup. What chick wouldn’t love that? We also get 30% off. I already have a drawer exploding with tons of bras and what not, I probably should start using that a bit less.

I laugh at the brand and their marketing with names like “gorgeous”, “bombshell”, “unforgettable” and sometimes wonder what the hell I’m doing there, but I might actually enjoy working with my weird ass employees and crazy customers that come through those doors.

Maybe next year

jpenas1991 — Wed, 30 Nov 2011 18:26:06 -0500

Does an $80 jersey mean nothing when your quarterback sucks? Now I can sit here all day and rant about how much I hate Jacory Harris as a QB, but that wouldn’t change anything. The damage is done and the statistics are set in stone. All I can say is, “Thank you Jacory. It’s been fun, and Good luck with that thing they call the NFL.”

Stephen Morris on the other hand, well I have high hopes for you. Since the beginning of the season I knew he was a better quarterback. I was one of those people who would chant his name while they kept him leashed on the bench. Next year he will be in the spotlight and together we will all chant his name. Even the non-believers will hold hands and join in the fun. Next year, we won’t dread leaving the tailgates. Next year will be a better year, I promise.

Best I Ever Had: THA 101 with Patricia Dolan Gross

alexalduncin — Wed, 30 Nov 2011 15:12:06 -0500

This class is called Theatre 101, but it is more accurately Life 101. I only took the class for gen ed purposes, and I thought it would just end up being a boring, easy A class. I was right about the easy A, but I also learned to think about college and life that go beyond a simple grade. While you could probably survive the course without going to half the classes, I found myself not wanting to miss any.

The second half of each class is theatre-related: history, important people, and techniques. This part didn’t appeal to me beyond the history, as I’m not a theatre guy. The first half of each class more than makes up for it. Professor Gross reflects on current events, and ties them into general statements that actually pertain to, and can be applied to, your life. She also shares personal anecdotes from her life that makes you see her as a living being rather than just another professor. It keeps you up-to-date on the world, while making you think about the world in relation to you.

The most entertaining aspect of the class is the (extra credit) homework. Whenever the Ring Theatre puts on a production, Professor Gross encourages you to go to the Student Tuesday nights, where you get in for free, get refreshments for free (if there’s an intermission), and watch a good performance. I had no interest in theatre performances when I went to the two offered during my semester, but I enjoyed both and plan to go to a couple more during the spring semester. Another homework assignment consists of watching a movie, usually the most artistic and popular movie released during the semester, such as Inception or Black Swan.

How to Ace Your Finals

laurenzies2468 — Wed, 30 Nov 2011 12:52:06 -0500

Write, and rewrite, and rewrite, and rewrite. If you want to get an A that’s what you gotta do. I don’t care how beautifully typed and formatted your notes are, they’re just not gonna cut it.

There is a proven link between writing out notes and memorizing them. When we write, our brain simultaneously processes the movement associated with drawing the letters along with the actual information being processed. The movement provides another pathway for the brain to recall the information later on. On the other hand, when we type, our fingers are repeating the same movement for every letter making it hard for the brain to distinguish between important and unimportant words.

Do you remember back in the day when your teacher made you rewrite spelling words over and over again? This is why. I recently realized that I subconsciously rewrite important words or concepts on the margins when I’m studying. Because I rewrite and rewrite and rewrite, I do well on my finals.

How to study:

If you typed your notes for the class, print them all out and have them in front of you.
Don’t highlight – that’s high school shit.
Grab a colored pen – I prefer red.
If you have OCD and do not want to write on the typed notes, grab some loose-leaf paper to write on instead.
Go through your notes and rewrite only keywords or sentences that you know will be on the test.

For future references, write out your notes throughout the semester. I guarantee that when finals come, you will be less overwhelmed.

Surviving the Holidays

itselizabitch — Tue, 29 Nov 2011 20:31:05 -0500

People always talk about ‘surviving the holidays with the family, as if it’s the hardest thing in the world. But what about all those people who have to survive the holidays without family? What about all those people suffering loss or, better yet, isolation during a season that thrives on family bonding and being kind to strangers? What about those people who have to deal with months of Christmas spirit when all they really want is to forget the fact that they are in it alone? Is it not already depressing enough that Christmas seems to publicly force itself into your face earlier and earlier every year? Is it not already depressing enough to walk around the mall, alone and broke, and see everything from sparkling, five-story Christmas trees to fathers taking their young girls, dressed in matching dresses and bows to sit on Santa’s lap to beautiful, young couples happily embracing each other? Maybe I’m just bitter.

How did the holidays turn into yelling matches with my parents, upping my anti-depressant dosage and attempts at hiding honesty behind sunglasses in public?

Christmas used to be my favorite holiday. Actually, I used to love all holidays. Love is an understatement. I even used to celebrate all eight nights Hanukkah. I could spit out the entire Hebrew prayer before I could even recite the pledge of allegiance. I was the bright-eyed, curly haired sweetheart dressed in an identical party dress as my younger sister. The very same activities that I used to live for now lead me to depths of sadness and remorse.

My parents, younger sister and I used to travel from Southern California to Philadelphia to be with the entirety of our family (which, may I add, is huge), multiple times a year. We made such a big deal about everything; Christmas, Thanksgiving, July 4^th, New Years, Easter, the whole nine yards. Now it physically hurts to think of those times. Christmas, as usual for most Irish Catholics, was the biggest deal of them all. My grandfather, head of the clan, would wear his red plaid slacks and cook not one, but two types of turkey, a prime rib and a ham. All six of the children, and then their children would come together and actually get along. I can colorfully recall being the youngest and having so much fun playing with my amazing older cousins, especially the ones closest to me in age. Before I had a younger sister, they were my older sisters. I remember the excitement of growing up myself as new baby cousins arrived, hoping I could someday parallel their ‘role-model’-type behavior. And we were so close, honest to God.

What I’d give for a time machine, just to go back to that naivety. Before everyone died. Before everyone else stopped caring. I can’t remember the last time anyone even mentioned Hanukkah to me. In fact, most people don’t even remember that I’m Jewish at all. My Jewish relatives, with the exception of my off the wall auntie and her two kids, all passed away before I turned ten. By then, many of my older relatives on the Catholic side of my family had passed away. Within two years or so, my parents, sister and I had stopped traveling for the holidays. By the time my grandpop had passed five years ago, the holiday spirit was dying too. I guess it makes sense. When my cousin was killed a year ago, my fear of Christmas became official. Traveling this past weekend to Philadelphia was one of the most depressing weekends of my life. Now I’m afraid to remember all of those sparkling memories of comfort and joy. The glitter of the tinsel on the tree tends to dull when your personal joy of the holiday season was mauled and instantly killed by a drunk driver a little more than a year ago. Traveling to my grandparents’ home, only to find it completely empty for the entire weekend was one of the saddest realities I’ve ever had to face. Not that I don’t love my grandmother. But sitting in front of the stone fireplace, where my cousins and I used to crowd around and exchange gifts, this time alone, walking past the same portraits on the wall, the same porcelain nativity scene we all used to admire, even the same furniture is so hard.

The uncontrollable contingency of life has, by far, been the hardest lesson I’ve ever had to learn. But what can I do about it? I suppose I could walk around angry and depressed all the time. I can’t say I haven’t wasted enough time engaged in that kind of thinking. But for the first time this weekend, I tried my hardest to reflect positively on the nostalgia of the past holidays. At the end of the day, I realized, all I really can be is overwhelmingly thankful for the time spent with my beloved best friend and cousin. Death doesn’t stop us from loving each other. Although I’ve convinced myself I’m alone, I’m not. My life as I knew it, may be gone forever. But her ashes lay right next to the baby Jesus on the nativity, and my love for her forever lives in my heart. My depressive nature will always be a struggle but I’m working my ass off to make sure it progressively stops getting in the way of seeing the good in life, in others, and in myself.

Next time you see a grumpy, worn out, mascara-stained face hung down low in public, don’t judge; don’t assume you know something you don’t. Next time you want to bash your friend that’d rather lay in bed listening to Joni Mitchell’s ‘River’ on repeat than go hard in SoBe, open your mind and ask them if they’re alright; show a little support. Crazy shit happens, and we are expected to immediately adapt to it, as if nothing happened. You have no idea what it is like to be anyone other than yourself. So maybe instead of asking daddy for another yacht this year or crying over the wrong printed Louis you are set to be receiving, try to reach out to those individuals who aren’t quite as lucky. Maybe instead of asking daddy for anything, you could ask him what he would like for Christmas. Invite the lonely people you know over for dinner, hug the depressed, show sensitivity to the individuals too shy to express sadness, share your cigarettes with the bums on US-1, give thanks for all the good in life. More than anything, show the people you love, just how much you love them.

The things I love are illegal, immoral or addictive.

surr3all — Tue, 29 Nov 2011 15:16:00 -0500

I’ve been a smoker for nearly 6 years. I regret that I started and I’ve tried to quit several times but I’ve had no success so far. I know it’s bad for you and I know that it can cause serious illness but at this age I don’t really feel the difference. I keep on telling myself that a time will come when I will quit this once and for all even though I know that there is no perfect time to do this.

People back at home in Bulgaria smoke like it’s a sport and I grew up among them. They enjoy sitting at coffee places with friends gossiping and talking about the stuff that happens in a small city. Smoking cigarettes is a must when drinking a coffee. Americans don’t really do that. They would rather buy coffee in a plastic cup and rush into whatever they are doing. I guess it’s a very European thing, but there is nothing better than spending a lazy afternoon in a coffee/bar with friends after school.

When I was a kid, cigarettes were one of the things that disgusted me the most. I grew up saying that I would never start smoking and I would never touch a cigarette. My parents are smokers, eventually my brother, who is six years older, became a smoker as well. I was very disappointed when I found out about this. Then high school came. Most of the cool kids were smoking and they were hanging out in groups. I wanted to join these groups because it was so much fun being with them. So one day I decided to light up a cig. I really didn’t like it at first. I thought it tasted like shit, but I was alos thinking that I looked badass when holding it. I hid my smoking from my parents for more than three years. But the more I was growing up the less I cared about what they were going to say.

Smoking cigarettes has its advantages. For me it’s like a 3 minute break from whatever I am doing at that moment. It keeps me relaxed and I get this time with myself in which I think about things that happened in the past or will happen in the future. Every time I get super excited or angry, and the smoke goes down my lungs, it chills me out. There are those times when smoking a cigarette is like getting a massage.

Smoking after eating – Amazing!

Smoking when drinking alcohol – Orgasmic!

Smoking after sex – Effing epic!

Another plus is that I’ve met a lot of people because of my smokes. When I came to Miami I didn’t know a single person. First days here I was sitting outside of the dorms smoking my cigarette in front of Stanford Residential. And guess what? I wasn’t the only one! It was a great chance to meet people and start conversations with strangers.

Sadly, the university banned smoking cigarettes on campus and now they are only designated areas for smoking. But people still smoke where they used to. European people don’t really care about the signs they put on campus. They wouldn’t really bother if someone writes them a ticket for smoking, even though I never heard of such story.

Two days ago, a woman started arguing with me because I was smoking on campus. She was mean and unfriendly. She wanted me to put out my cigarette and I pretended that I did. She left but then she came back all angry. I asked her if she will fine me, and she told me she will call the cops. HAHAHA was my reply! Calling cops for a cigarette… I said ok, and she was, consider it done! I didn’t expect them to come and of course they never did. But then I started wondering why there are so many people that hate it for nothing. Their life sucks and they try to make everything that is wonderful illegal so that your life will not be any better than theirs.

What was her problem with me smoking outside? Is it because she can smell the smoke of my cigarette? But then does she enjoy it when a shuttle presses the gas and all the black smoke goes in her face? Or when she sits next to a guy who forgot to take a shower and who didn’t change his cloths for the last 3 days. “Smoking cigarettes on campus is illegal!”

Chiiiillll. There are so many other things to worry about.

Occasional Daily Briefing: November 29th

alexalduncin — Tue, 29 Nov 2011 14:40:00 -0500

FAMU’s band is in jeopardy after a seemingly negligent death. Al Golden stays with the U and talks about this and next season. UM basketball season has started, with mixed results awaiting us. American Airlines joins most other airline companies in filing for bankruptcy. And the Miami Heat’s big 3 win their first NBA championship together.

FAMU band is in trouble

Last week, a FAMU band member was found dead, and it seems like it was due to hazing. The band, which is the only worthwhile reason to go to the annual UM-FAMU game, has been suspended. The band leader was fired and is trying to get back his job. The band is now in limbo due to dangerous practices. It’s all fun and games until somebody gets dead.

UM football season is over, Al Golden predicts the future

6-6, no bowl. I came pretty close at the start of the season. Jacory was back to his old self against Boston College, and the only bright spot of the year was beating a humiliated and QB-less Ohio State. Afterward, Al Golden got a contract extension that will guarantee his presence next year. Golden thinks next year will be better, and I hope it will. But despite suspensions, this season should’ve been higher than 6-6. Golden, you get a pass your first year, but don’t expect the same treatment next year.

“6-6 and I get 4 more years? Wow, this is easier than I thought.”

UM basketball has started. Men and women both have 1 loss.

The men’s team will flame out once they get to the ACC half of the schedule, but the women are ranked #9 and could actually accomplish something.

American Airlines files for bankruptcy

American Airlines has joined all other US airliners (with the exception of Southwest) in filing for bankruptcy. This can have an effect on you and Miami. As of now, AA plans to run business as usual. But over the long term, ticket prices could increase, fees could be added, or flights could be scrubbed. AA has a major hub in Miami, and it contributes greatly to Miami’s economy. Miami International Airport is one of the largest international airports in the world, and American Airlines contributes greatly to that. The good news is AA has a lot of money saved up, so they might fare better than other airliners.

Miami Heat wins 2012 NBA Finals over Oklahoma City Thunder

Not really. That’s still a few months away. But the lockout was magically solved in time to save the revenue-machine Christmas games, and now the NBA will play a shortened season. Love them or hate them, the Heat are the favorites. Here’s hoping for an entertaining year.

“Nice doing business and losing money with you.”

it's the last week of classes

amp65 — Tue, 29 Nov 2011 12:50:21 -0500

Boom. Thats the sound my brain makes. Boom. Boom. Boom. Yep, it’s the last week of classes. Pow. That’s the sound my grades make. Pow. Pow.Pow. I can’t continue to act like the pile of books/assignments on my desk is just going to disappear. Puff. That’s the sound I wish my assignments would make as they evaporate into thin air. Knock. Knock. All of the girls on my floor knocking at my door, telling me their stories. I act like I care but sometimes I don’t. Especially today. I’m trying to not work on my research paper. Instead I’m watching gossip girl and writing. Best combination. Tomorrow I will be productive. Tap. Tap. Tap. The noise my computer will make as I work tirelessly to complete my paper before the midnight deadline. I should probably go back to pretending like I’m researching articles. Maybe that prevent me from having a nervous breakdown.

A soundtrack straight from the bowels of hell (aka Macy's Christmas playlist)

alexalduncin — Mon, 28 Nov 2011 20:35:06 -0500

10. Frosty the snowman

9. Santa baby (aka the slut song)

8. I saw mommy kissing Santa Claus (the aforementioned slut’s daughter’s song)

7. Feliz Navidad (the one Spanish song played all year in a South Florida business…how do they make money?)

6. It’s the most wonderful time of the year (for you)

5. Baby, it’s cold outside (In Florida, that amounts to 65 degrees. I think she’ll live.)

4. Christmastime is here

(Can I listen to 8 hours of this instead?)

3. Do they know it’s Christmas? (No, I don’t think they got the memo yet. Pump out another 20 songs.)

2. Have yourself a merry little Christmas

1. Let me die, let me die, let me die

O Miami, what's a poor fashionista to do?

itselizabitch — Mon, 28 Nov 2011 18:20:05 -0500

Shopping as a broke college student (I neither have access to daddy’s plastic nor a trust fund) can be beyond heart-breaking. Shopping in Miami is killer! It’s not even like just Downtown or just “this” mall has the best shopping… it is literally every other street corner. Every time I set out to accomplish something important and see fashion merchandise, I’m gone. The mannequins beckon me, the racks become illuminated, drool starts dripping out of my mouth and I start to feel all hot and bothered inside. I swear, if I could, I’d buy out all those little shops/boutiques you see at Sunset and the Grove in one sitting. But I can’t, at least not yet, so I scrounge together my nickels and browse the sale-racks of those trendy knock-off type stores.

My choice to move to MIA depended upon one defining factor: the wardrobe. I mean, where else in the United States can one prance around in a studded bikini between classes, roam the streets in gold-sequined hot shorts, casually sit down to drinks in a garter belt, or dangle a profanity from a gaudy, glittering navel ring and be praised for it? (Don’t say Vegas, that doesn’t count. You don’t want to live there either, trust me.) Certainly not the snow-globe I call home. Not in LA either; Hollywood isn’t paved with glitter and its nightlife doesn’t even hold a glow-stick to Sobe’s B/C-rated clubs. So why is it that both Orange County and Los Angeles (not to mention, like, the vast majority of the US… you know, all those little, old cities that don’t have a TV show and nobody cares about) are literally BRIMMING with some of the best, cheapest shopping ever?

Case in point: H&M. Apparently, they have locations near Tallytrashy and Central Florida. But fuck, I’m not crossing all the way over to the white devil’s lair in hopes of scoring a trendy asymmetrically cut tunic. Regardless, this international chain (future superpower, I can assure you) is one of my favorites, not only because of the affordable prices but because of the flexibility of the merchandise. It is one of my favorite places to stock up on those little essentials that always seem important, yet they’re an essential and not worth dropping anything big for: black leggings, thin racer-back tanks, fake gold bangles, tiny, stretchy miniskirts that come in every color, you know. H&M is like a coked-out Forever 21, a little more sophisticated but not as boring as Express or Zara.

My heart took a beating when I recently found out that DONATELLA VERSACE created a pre-Spring line for H&M! Of course, I knew that shit would be a long-shot. The fact that it it was strategically planned to release during the holiday shopping season basically means I’ll never get around to it even if I was near a location BUT STILL!! The only Versace merchandise I can get my hands on now is the the dusty stuff my mother is trying to throw away from the 80’s (more on hand-me-down vintage later)! And this stuff is gorgeous (or at least most of it).

While $150 for a studded pleather Versace jacket is otherwise unheard of, the Versace authenticity was spot-on; it didn’t look like a line for a knock-off store. The saddest part is, the special collection is SO Miami too! I would totally rock more than half of that stuff perfectly. Predictably, the debut of the new line lasted all of about twenty minutes, bringing chaos and calamity among desperate shoppers. Apparently, some of those fortunate enough to purchase anything from this special line, let alone be permitted entrance into the store, sold the rare merchandise to crazy people on the streets for rip-off prices. Long live the trickle-down economic system!

I just want to look hot and not feel broke. Is that too much to ask?

Smart kids do it in the stacks...

jpenas1991 — Mon, 28 Nov 2011 12:45:06 -0500

I don’t normally study, but when I do, I determine my studying location upon my mood and how difficult the material is. It all depends on your style and how much noise you can take while trying to concentrate. My top 5 favorite places, run as followed.

5. McArthur Engineering Building

When approaching the engineering building there are three tables under the shade. This is a quiet place to study but every now and then people come in and out of the building. For me, a little bit of noise every now and then helps relieve stress, thus helping me focus better on the material. The problem with this study spot is that too many people know of it. With only three tables, it’s rare to find an empty place to put your books down.

4. McLamore Plaza

This spot is a little bit more noisy than the Engineering building, mainly because it’s in the cross walk to all the buildings in the area. If what you’re studying is light or if your just doing homework then take a seat. If you’re hungry the Urgano food truck is normally parked right there. Try the pizza it’s pretty good.

3. Cox Science Center

As you walk up the stairs of Cox you will see under the shade of the building a bunch of tables. Depending on the heat you can study outside at these tables or the tables inside the lobby area. You can count on it being quiet here for most of the day mainly because the people who sit here are all cramming for a science test of some sort. The only problem is that every hour class’s change and you get hundreds of students going in and out of the building. If I just need to review for a test, then this is where you’ll find me.

2. The Green (Richter Library)

If it’s a beautiful day and all you need to do is read, take a walk to the green in front of Richter Library. Take a seat under the palm trees and open your book. Just make sure you’re far enough from the smokers at the tables by the Library. This is my favorite place on campus to hang out. The cool breeze and fresh air reminds me of what a beautiful place Miami is.

1. Mezzanine (Richter Library)

If I really need to focus and I have a difficult test coming up I go to the Mezzanine. Now I’ve come to realize that not a lot of people know about the Mezzanine and that is a good thing. It is the best place to study in the library because there’s never anybody there. To get there go to the stacks elevators and press down. Once you’re in the elevator press the button M. Now at first it’s sort of spooky but once you get used to the noises, you will realize that this place is the key to getting A’s at UM. Don’t freak out. Every 30 minutes a weird sound that comes from the corner of the floor goes off. It sounds like some sort of pressure hose releasing air. I’m convinced it has something to do with the air conditioning or the elevators. Maybe it’s the ghosts that live down there. The Mezzanine is also good if you couldn’t get a study room with your friends. Just go downstairs and look around. If no one is down there, take out your music and dance if you like. It’s all yours. Unless of course I’m there, then you better shut up.

And what have you done this semester?

isitcool — Mon, 28 Nov 2011 11:16:03 -0500

Former Cane and current Milwaukee Brewer, Ryan Braun, has been named Major League Baseball’s Most Valuable Player.

In other news, several Unusual staff members went to the gym a couple of times in late September.

Congratulations to Ryan, and really, to each and every one of us.

Because ~~we’re all valuable players in one way or another~~. Because ~~when one Cane wins, we all win~~. Um…just because.

Hottie(s) of the Week: The Shawty Twins

alexalduncin — Wed, 23 Nov 2011 18:21:05 -0500

We’re in luck this week…twins! While these sisters are half the size of their fellow palms, they have nice curves and hang out at the law school. They’re bound to be smarter than the average gal.

And you know what they say…it’s better to have loved a short one, than never to have loved a tall.

I came all the way from Bulgaria for this?

surr3all — Wed, 23 Nov 2011 15:26:00 -0500

10. Snakes - I’ve seen a snake 3 times on campus. Now I am scared to walk in the grass.

9. Crowds in the food court or Starbucks - I don’t know anyone who likes crowds.

8. Ducks in the Business School - Those nosy bastards. They are scared of nothing. they shit everywhere and it gets worse when maintenance decides to clean it.

7. Girls wearing Uggs - We are in Miami, not Alaska.

6. Skaters - If they skate over a pebble and they fall, they deserve it! There is no place for them on those narrow paths.

5. Ugly backpacks - Seeing a guy with a suit and a backpack… it’s so unprofessional. Change this habit, we are not in a elementary school anymore.

4. Electric car that belongs to a ticket officer parked on a parking spot when garages are full - I swear at them every time I look for a parking spot for 30 min.

3. Chubby girls wearing tight shorts - Girl, take some Zumba classes!

2. People going to school with pajamas - Show some respect! Laziness is a sickness!

1. Hot girl walking around with a guy who wears socks and sandals. Ohhh c’moon! I put on these socks when I go in the mountains and the types of sandals they wear are for going to the bathroom.

insomnia

amp65 — Wed, 23 Nov 2011 12:41:05 -0500

Not some club in south beach. Just plain old, unlivable sleeplessness. I suffer from the worst case of insomnia. The type that’s so addicting that the reason why I don’t fall asleep is cause I want more hours in the day. More seconds to ponder, more minutes to wonder, and more hours to simply waste away doing nothing.

My mom used to say that I was little, around 5yrs old, I hated falling asleep. That even when I was “butt-tired”, I would refuse to fall asleep, kick some energy in myself and somehow find a way to make it all the way till midnight. This of course sucked for my mom who worked a rough 9-5 the next morning, even worse for my Dad who back then used to work two jobs. That’s probably why my parents called me the “devil incarnate” when I was little. See I never was that cutest little girl.I was the devil child who couldn’t wait to do the next thing, jump off the next couch, or go up and down the escalators at the mall. I was probably that little girl that you wished her parents hadn’t sat next to you at Friday’s.

I think somehow I am still kind of like that little girl. Instead now I’ve managed to fill my time, actually overfill my time, with way too many things to remember. Yes, I am one of those uber-involved kids, who gives P100 tours, is in a sorority, on some other obscure-but-nonetheless important committee, that you probably look at and hate. I never wanted to become that person. But here I am overly involved, and not to happy with what I’ve accomplished so far. I wish I would’ve listened to the advice people told me about not getting too involved. I think that’s a problem most UM students have. We get too involved, too over-programmed and we end up doing too many things, and usually none of them to the best of our abilities.

Most of my insomnia is because of endless sleepless nights spent trying to catch up on work and having to start homework at 11pm. I hate doing that. So I guess my words of advice is don’t fill up your time with meaningless things just because it looks good, or it’s another line that you can add to your resume. Focus on the things that make you happy, whether they’re cool or not, who cares. Just find that insatiable passion, that irresistible thing that drives you crazy and run with it and don’t look back. I think that is the true cure to insomnia. At least it’s helping me with my insomnia for now.