Tried on a possible costume for RENT....

I'm Joanne from RENT this spring.

...I know right.  Of COURSE I'm the lawyer.

So here's my first try at a RENT-inspired, late-80's not so frumpy lawyer look:

You can kinda see the make-up, but the camera flash eliminated most of it.

Sunglasses for the sensible lady!

Blazer, scarf, hobo gloves, and my crazy hair!

What does everyone think?  This is for the poster picture, not necessarily the final costume.

Adjectives, Action Words, etc.

I don't like re-writing resumes and writing cover letters.

Quite frankly, I feel like there's really no good way to describe some of the things I do.

--One of my residents comes into my room bitchin' about her life.  I let her vent and offer her my epic bean bag chair to sit on.
.....................Counseling? I think not.  More like "skilled at being a decent person as needed".

GAH.

Cause let's be real.  That right there?  I'm no counselor- That's not counseling.  That's....being someone understanding.  How do you write that on a resume?  Or a cover letter?

Can't I just write "Hey, my girls like me, I got RA of the month, I don't miss deadlines, and my programming is stellar"?

Nope.

Interpersonal Skills, Punctuality and Organization, Programming and Community Development.

Big words people.  Big words.

And action words. And adjectives.

But mostly stress.

I mean, if I leave some of my animal experience in, does that imply that I think all of the residents are animals...?

Well..now that I think of it...

Regardless of whether or not that's the truth, I can't really imply that.

But dog training is so relevant!  Well, it is in my mind.  Positive Reinforcement!  Associations! Teamwork and Cooperation!

...No?  Yeah... well I tried.

If I wasn't a decent RA you wouldn't have rehired me the first time!  Or hired me period...





How about:

"I like my job.  Can I please have it back?"


Wayyyyy too simple.


So we'll see how the big words work out.  I'll know come March.


Wish me luck!

I won't change. Maybe you should.

The next person that tells me I have to be positive needs to take a good look at themselves.  Why do you feel the urge to change me?  I don't need it.  I don't want it.  Stop giving it.

I just want to be left alone, honest.

I'm a good person.  I get things done, and I care deeply for my friends and family, as well as the plethora of animals I encounter.

So what if I say I have bad luck?  I DO.  It's my life.  I have a running commentary in my head that deals with it.

With humor.  With ranting.  With negativity.

But if it works for me, and people appreciate me, and I do my job well (and sometimes better than well)---why must you harp on me?

It's insulting, and belittling.

Am I less of a person because I don't smile 24/7?  Please.  We all know that's not true.

I enjoy parts of my life.  I do.  They are usually the private moments that you just can't replicate every day:
 

• Waking up at 6 in the morning when spring starts: just to watch the sunrise and hear the birds.
• Cuddling up with a book and tea.
• Wrestling on the floor with a pit-bull, or a beagle, or a whatchamacallit-style mutt.
• Listening to a song I love and totally rocking out in my room.

Why do I have to plaster a fake smile on myself, lie to the people around me, and pretend every aspect of my life is great. 

WHY?

It bothers me that people harp on me about my negativity.  They didn't know me when I literally saw NOTHING in my life as positive...as worth living for.  Don't talk to me about negativity, you probably have never been as far gone as I have...

I'm sorry I don't fit into your picture perfect idea of society.  I don't.  But I belong in society.  People like me get things done.  We find the catch's, the pitfalls, and the loopholes.  We see the other side.  We don't walk through life blinded by oblivious positivity.

There are people that get me to smile, and laugh until the tears run down my face.  And you know what?  It's because they accept me for me, they don't try to get me to change.

To improve.

I like myself.  The way I am.  With my snark, and attitude, and wit.  I don't need to improve in that way.  

I can learn.  I can perfect.  I don't need to change.

Next time you decide I'm not positive enough for you...you decide you need to fix me....you decide that I must have a horrible life because of my attitude...

...maybe you should think about how your positivity makes you less of an accepting person....makes you more discriminatory.  Belittling.  Hurtful.  Judgmental.

And then ask yourself...

Is it better to be a positive person, or an accepting/open minded individual?

I wont change.  Maybe you should.  I'm a person too.  A negative, pessimistic one.  And proud of it.

My parents are coming to visit me today!

...because one of my books shipped BEFORE I left for RA training while the other one didn't.  Even though I ordered them from the same place and they listed the same shipping time.

But more importantly...

...very importantly...

...stupendously important, if you're not getting the picture...

...it means I will not be having Becker food for lunch.

*Sniffle* Thank You, thank you oh so much.  Oh happy tears!

Anyway.

Anyone who goes to Becker knows why I'm so excited.  I'm going to a restaurant where things will taste so delicious and wonderful by contrast.

Also they need me to help pick out paint swatches since I'm good at picking out colors, being all artistic and stuff.

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It's not like they're gonna drive all the way up here if they're not going to get some use out of me.

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The feast awaits!

Let's just be real for two seconds...

I know every girl would like to say that they are super-confident and they've GOT THIS.

But I do not, I repeat DO NOT, have this.


Whatever "this" is.

Maybe it's confidence relating to your body.  That's cool, you say you're perfectly happy with yourself?  You're probably lying.

It's not your fault either.  You probably  should be totally happy with your body.  But, that is not what we've been conditioned to think from (practically) birth.

And really, how much does that suck?


A lot.  It sucks a lot.


I can barely go shopping with my sisters anymore without having a mental confrontation in my mind.  I know that's not a good example, but goddamn it when I look at them:  I realize they don't need a good example in regards to body image.

They, unlike me, have GOT THIS.

Gah.

But it's ok.  I have a love/hate relationship with my body.  It's about 30% love and 70% hate.

When I see people struggling to fill out a dress, I think to myself :

"I've got curves. I'm a REAL WOMAN"

Hear me ROAR!

And then, later, when I'm trying to find jeans that fit my friggen' CURVES right, I mentally scream and curse and say I'll wear sweats for the rest of my life.

....sometimes not so mentally.

On a side note: a good amount of the girls in my hall are dancing to Destiny's Child's "Bootylicious" right now.

And it's amazing.

Back to the story.

So, there are times I do like my body.  I like my curvy legs, and I would be lying if I said I wanted smaller boobs.

And I prance around thinking

"Oh hell yes, I am awesome"

Until something happens and my new-found confidence is shattered (until the next time).


Now off the body image issue.  How about the "being social" issue?

Oh yeah, I have confidence issues.

People who say that they really don't care what people think....there's a word for that.  It's called being a sociopath.

Unless you are devoid of all emotion, compassion, or empathy for other life: you probably care at least a little bit what people think.

Come on...admit it.  You totally do.

And so do I.  In a weird, paranoid way.

I guess I had a couple of bad experiences in middle and high school (who doesn't?) and decided that anyone  who is friends with me doesn't REALLY like me and it will all go down the drain soon.

Hence, me starting out college as an anti-social bitch.

Seriously, one of my friends admitted to me that she was a little scared of me my freshman year.

It's the mean-girls syndrome:

"I actually hate your guts"

I don't want to get involved in a group to have it all go downhill.

So naturally, I have several groups of friends and I'm equally paranoid about each.  It's not their fault.  They haven't done anything to make me think this way.  In fact, they are probably all wonderful.

I'm just crazy.  And I lack confidence.

I don't really think that everyone is against me.  It's just, sometimes I wonder: do they really want me here?  Am I bothering them?  Should I leave?

So situations that aren't awkward ARE awkward, in my head.

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Really, you guys probably only like me for my blog anyway...

I have a question...

....why the hell is Internet Explorer still the most popular browser?


(to view my blog with)


I'm shocked, I thought that Internet Explorer was practically dead.  But alas:

WHAT IS THIS CRAP? (and this is only this week)

Guys, seriously.  The internet is riddled with jokes about Internet Explorer.

Get with it and get Firefox or Chrome.

For the record...

...Despite the fact that I didn't post any picture son my blog yesterday due to the blackout/SOPA protest thing...


...

......I looked awesome yesterday.

Just throwing that out there.  I didn't choose to blackout that post because I looked like a bridge troll yesterday.   

However, that was in the morning, before.....THE FIRST DAY OF CLASSES.

Yes.  Those things that you have to do if you want a degree.  Classes.

I'm a nerd, and I happen to like school.  But for whatever reason, the first day of classes stresses me out to no end.  I am on red alert in my head and I go into every classroom thinking the teacher is a nutcase that will assign 3 bajillion essays and I'm gonna die...OR WORSE:    lose my 4.0.

My face when I get a 3.9

Of course, I have good reasons to think this way.

Remember in elementary school you always got dressed up for the first day of class?  First it was your mother doing it (maybe) and then you just continued the tradition.

You wanted to impress your teachers, and your peers.

"I'm DIFFERENT this year" you thought.  You wanted to be new and interesting.  (Unless you were already popular, in which case: SCREW YOU)

Yeah, right.  I shouldn't have aimed for "DIFFERENT." I should have aimed for "BETTER".

As the years progressed it just became ingrained: I must be awesome the first day of classes.

Well my friends, that's what we call pressure.  And pressure breeds stress.

But I digress...

Another, very important, reason why I stress: I have had classes that I think are going to be fun and easy that end up taking all of my time.

2 separate finals for Mythology anyone?

No one wants that one class that takes up all of your time and energy.  Especially when it takes up more time than all of the classes for your major: combined.  We've all had that elective.  We all never ever ever want to have it again.

Back to my day:

So I go to my last animal care class ever (weird?  I wont be a double-major anymore after this year).  Of course, everyone has warned me that I'm not going to get along with the teacher at all.

I'm thinking "She doesn't seem so bad."

But isn't that what we all think, in the beginning?

I then go to my Humanities elective, a course called America in the Contemporary World.

That should tell you something right there.

I'm sensing large amounts of busy work looming ahead.  For one: he's assigned three books.  None of which are on the bookstore website.  

So of course I don't have them.  

Other than that, the course sounds interesting.  It seems more like an international relations course than what is described in the course description, but then again when are those things ever completely accurate?

I'm listening to some of the goals of the class and thinking that I'm really glad my boyfriend is a Politics and Government major with a lot of interest in International Studies.

It's nice to know I'll have a proof-reader for my 3-bajillion essays.

I know... I know,  I should lighten up...

I'm surprised ResLife hasn't pulled a stunt like this with me yet:

I found this when looking for "first day of school" pictures.
Guess I'm not the only one.

For those of you who don't know about SOPA and PIPA

These are two bills in Congress that put simply: are bad news.  The goal of the bills is to end Piracy but the end result will likely be a mass censorship and removal of the shared content of the internet.




Let me put that simply:


half the funny pictures on my blog wouldn't be allowed.


That's bad news.


You like my blog?  You want to keep reading it? Go sign a petition.  There's one you can find if you just click on the Google Doodle for today, which you can't see because it is blacked out.


A lot of websites are blacking out their sites in protest.  Wikipedia is among them, so I guess it's a really good thing that the majority of us don't have papers due yet.


Here's a link for more information:


Explanation of SOPA/PIPA



And here's my obligatory funny picture:

I'm probably doing something really
embarrassing in this photo, but you can't see.
GET THE PICTURE?  

No one seems to know the difference...

Get it right people.

One has an afro, the other doesn't.

Get it right, Or this llama will kill you.

..........can someone please get me that llama in the last picture.  I'm officially in love with her.

Anddddddddddddd IT'S 7:30 IN THE MORNING.

I'm awake.

Drinking a Coke ZERO because the vending machine has been sold out of everything else since BEFORE winter break.

Waiting for residents to move in LATER because of course there had to be a STORM.

Wearing tan colored jeans that are two sizes too SMALL because I don't have khakis.

Freezing my ASS off because both doors to my room are wide open.

Wondering if I should turn my music OFF.

And then leaving it ON anyway.

Thinking that no one can see my blue POLO, and that no, I can't pop the collar.  What a stupid thought.  I did it anyway.  Just to experience the stupid.

U mad Bro?

Remembering I have to make MANDATORY hall meeting signs. Does 8:00 sound good? I don't know.

Wondering if throwing my fuzzy bathrobe OVER my hoodie and polo is a violation of our dress code, because I know the temperature in here is a violation of at least one of my personal codes.

Looking down at my cold soda and thinking I'm awful STUPID for not drinking tea instead.

Being too LAZY to go make tea regardless.

Shivering, shivering, and more shivering.

Thinking I could have PROBABLY slept in, because really, who's going to check on me in this weather?

Remembering that I have a  conscience and NO BALLS; so clearly I'm going to get up regardless.

Maybe a NAP wouldn't be so bad though?

Though if anyone were to get caught it WOULD be me.

Knowing the rest of the RA's are ALL thinking the same things.

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Hitting my bruise on the desk.  You can't really see it but it's friggen GREEN.

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Life is good.
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Except for Coke Zero.  That crap is BAD.

As Promised: RA Training.

Hello dearly devoted readers.  As you will know if you've read my last couple of posts, I have been busy with RA training for the spring semester.

I mentioned before that RA training gives me a lot of material to work with.  And truly, it's nothing against the presenters or the commitment to the training, it has everything to do with me.

I am just not the typical RA.

This is why I seem to stumble and struggle through training.  I just don't fit quite right.  I'm not enthusiastic.  I'm a pessimist.

I'm certainly not a positive person.

Which is where we run into issues.  I love when we are being told to both "be ourselves" and "be positive".

....oh crap.

You see, those two just don't mesh for me.  They don't mesh at all.  I will find everything that is going to go wrong in a plan.  I just assume that shit will hit the fan and plan accordingly.

My "n" key is sticking, so if I spell a bunch of words without "n"'s then don't kill me.

Anyway, I feel like being positive is overrated.  Sorry people, but sometimes life sucks.  Pretending it doesn't can't change that.

I can pretend I have a million bucks, but it doesn't mean I can go out and buy that Jeep Wrangler I want.  It just doesn't.

And sometimes when life sucks, the only thing you can do is be honest.  Yeah, it blows.  We're just going to have to deal with it.

I imagine a positive person saying the exact same thing, but like this:
           "Yeah, It Blows!  We're just going to have to deal with it!"


Quit being chipper, you're getting on my nerves, positive person.

If I'm doing something I hate, I'm not going to pretend to enjoy it.  We're always asked to be honest.  I can't be honest AND positive all of the time.

Really.  It's impossible.

That being said, it doesn't mean I can't do my job.  My residents like me, for all I know.  I get along with most of the RA staff.  I am wicked creative, put on kick-ass programs, and I get it all done even being a double-major.

Maybe, just maybe, you don't have to be an optimistic person to be a good RA.  Maybe you can rag on yourself, spit on your life, and stomp your way to class, and have people still like you because hey: you're funny as hell, and you're real.

Maybe I get so much done because I know how much my week is going to suck.  Maybe I understand my residents breakdowns and troubles because I actually allow myself to think like that sometimes.

And you know what?  I won't promise that it's going to get better, or say it's not that bad.  Because people should have the option to feel like crap if they need to.  Because sometimes life just sucks.  Nothing I can say will change that, but I can make someone feel less alone.

If I hear one more person tell me to be positive I'm going to scream.  It's not me.  Don't tell me to change, because odds are, at least when I say I'm happy, I actually am.  I'm not that "positive" person that will pretend everything is just wonderful.

It's not.




Anyway.  Back to RA training.


We go to a conference every year with all of the other Worcester area schools and much socialization ensues.  We all know how I feel about that.

So we get to this conference and all of us Becker kids are sitting together and one of our pro-staff members is up at the podium addressing the crowd.  She's a bit of an introvert like me, but she still insists on being positive all of the time, and "stepping out of your comfort zone".

She's talking about all of the opportunities to "network" with other RA's at this conference, and she goes on to say how she expects the extroverts are like "oh yay, people!" and the introverts are going "oh crap, why me?"

No sooner are these words out of her mouth when the majority of the Becker RA staff turns and laughs at me.

Thanks guys.  I'm feeling the love.

So I hatch a plan in my head.  I'm going to prove them all wrong and actually participate.  There's a name at the bottom of our name tags, a name that goes to a pair.

For example, if you are Peanut Butter, you are looking for the person that says "Jelly".

I was Lancelot.  Looking for Guinevere.

I decided to embrace it.  I walked around the whole dining hall, full of around 300 people, going table to table with this sign:

I'm so funny.

Twice.  That's right.  I did the entire dining hall twice.  And you know what?  Nothing.  Guinevere apparently doesn't eat.

It's getting to be the end of the day and mostly everyone has found their match.  By mostly I of course mean, NOT ME.

I'm frustrated.  So I ask one of my pro-staff, who organized it, if I was actually looking for Guinevere, or if I was wrong and I should be looking for King Arthur.

I was right, of course, but Guinevere was no where to be found.  

It's closing time for the conference, and I still haven't found Guinevere.  The pro-staff member makes an announcement about it. 

Turns out Guinevere didn't show up.  

That would happen to me.

So this is what I've decided: if you participate you just make an idiot of yourself so don't bother trying. 

And people wonder why I hide in my room.

Lane Hall Theme: HARRY POTTER

Ignore the boyfriend.

He seemed to think my picture taking was a modeling opportunity.

Anyways, hand-carved Hogwarts houses.  WHAT NEXT?

Wait and see.  Tehe.

I'm still alive...

...but it's apparently been so long that I had to actually log in to get to my blog.  Jeesh.

But no worries my friends!  Soon, (as in tomorrow) I will be back at Becker College.

Lo! Becker College: the land of writing material.  That special place where my irritation clashes with my amusement and produces wit and copious amounts of writing.

And what more: I'm going back for RA training.  That means LOTS of writing material.  For the record I still hate cold-cut sandwiches.

But hey, that's tomorrow.  In the meantime, look what I found:

I'm so cool.

My sunglasses from when I was a cop for Halloween.  Which I needed because of the sun shining through my window directly into my eyes.  

Directly into them.

I even made it black and white.  To most of the people on the internet, it means I'm into "photography".  To me it means my bright red walls make me look like crap =]

And to my lovely boyfriend, it means that if I had chosen sepia tones instead I'd be a hipster.  

OH GOD THE HIPSTERS

That's all for now.  

I expect you all to anxiously await my angry posts in the next couple of days.  I have such a low tolerance for such things.................

By Familial Request: Headache Helpers

So if you know me well at all you know that I am prone to headaches.  I used to get migraines and I was being treated for them when suddenly a new, different kind of headache made its appearance the spring of my freshman year.

These headaches did not submit to migraine medication, nor to ibuprofen or other over the counter medications.  Quite frankly, these were the cockroaches of the headache world.

Why won't you DIEEEEEEEEEEEEEE?1?!?!?!?

I got these headaches for hours a day (sometimes 8 or more) and every day for around 50 days.  It was miserable.  To make sure that my life (and by life, I mean grades) didn't suffer I had to come up with several methods of making the headaches bearable.  I had to function, so here are some of my tricks:

Disclaimer: I am not a nurse/doctor/medical person.  These tricks work for ME and may not work for YOU.  They are tips and not prescriptions.

• Heat: You should set your house on fire. That'll do it. Justtttttttt Kidding*. I will put a heating pad across my forehead, or inside my pillowcase, depending on whether the pain is at the forefront of my head or leaning towards the back. (* NICK!)
• Hot Tea: For those of you that know me, you know I love my tea.  This is probably why.  I take a very hot cup of tea and take my time drinking it.  I don't use coffee or other hot beverages.  Tea has a nice balance of caffeine and health benefits.  You don't want to chug down the tea either, you should take the time to drink it slowly so that you don't jolt your system with caffeine but also because the feeling of the hot tea is distracting.  The longer you drag out drinking that mug the better.
• Candy/Mints: for those of you that aren't hot tea drinkers, I have a trick that I will often use during a class when I don't have tea or a heating pad handy.  A hard candy, such as a hard caramel, or a mint is a good tool for distraction.  Same basic concept as the tea.  The action required to consume the candy is drawn out over a long period of time.  The more flavorful the better.  The flavor is a distraction from the pain.  For this to work you can't be wallowing in your own pain; commenting mentally on how the pain is like nails being driven into your head.  I would say that's over-dramatic if I didn't have headaches that bad myself.  For this to work you really have to relish the flavor of the candy, and drag it out.  It's all about distraction.
• Go for a Walk:  But only if it's not friggen' cold out.  There's nothing that aggravates a headache more than walking out of a nice warm room into the cold air.  Or even worse than that, going back and forth repeatedly.  That being said, if it is of a desirable temperature, go for a walk.  While walking on a treadmill will eventually get your blood going and may help, you lose the actual distraction of going somewhere on a walk.  So if at all possible, grab a buddy* (but not one of those annoying talkative ones) and go for a scenic walk.  For those of you at Becker, the walk around the lake is great.  (*a dog is best really, not talkative at all...)
• Screw your Diet and Eat some Fatty Food: I'm serious.  It's delicious.  There's nothing like french fries to help kill a headache.  Nice, hot, bad-for-you food can sometimes bring your mood up enough to kill your pain.  You know that feeling of absolute ecstasy when you bite into, let's say...bacon cheesy fries?* That feeling will eclipse your headache if you let it.  But again, no dwelling on your pain. (*NICK knows)
• Take a long, hot Shower: again, heat.  But also, distraction.  Just don't shave your legs if you're feeling all dizzy.  Been there, done that.  I have the scars.
• Play with a Puppy:  ..........or a ferret, or a kitten (because adult cats won't work, sorry), or a guinea pig, or rats, or something furry with a pulse! (I wouldn't recommend that raccoon though, put it down.)  There's a whole bunch of science behind this.  Hormones get released when you pet an animal, especially one you have a strong bond with.  I'm not getting into the science.  I'm on vacation you know, and this isn't a graded paper.  I will just tell you that it works...for me...you know, the person with 4 beagles to play with at school...
• Be Productive:  I know this sounds impossible.  You're in PAIN dammit!  Believe me, I know.  But when you're in so much pain you can't look at the computer screen to write a paper, or you can't read the assigned chapters from the textbook, you CAN take the opportunity to get some laundry done, or  maybe reorganize your closet.  The things that fall by the wayside because of schoolwork can be addressed in this time.  Now, I know what you're thinking: "Why on EARTH would I want to do chores with my melon of a head in such pain? Is this girl crazy?!?!?!"  Well here's why.  When you get something done you feel good.  It removes stress.  And stress, my friend, is a very big factor in headaches.  You feel accomplished when you actually get to cross that off your to-do list.  So if you're looking for something to distract you, but it is literally painful to do schoolwork (more than usual, I mean), you could actually get something done.  It makes you feel less like the headache is beating you down, and more like you're beating the headache down.  Don't ask me how it works.  Some psychological crap right there.

Now I understand that sometimes the pain is so great you can't possibly think about doing anything.  Even playing with a puppy sounds like a death sentence and you wonder when your head is just going to shrivel and fall off your shoulders.

Believe me, I understand that.

Here's a trick I use for when I literally cannot do anything but sit in a dark room.  

I will lie down, in the most comfortable position possible.  For me, that's curled on my side.  For you that might be different.  Sometimes I will have a heating pad for my head, but other times I might have been in too much pain to go prepare it.  

When I lie down I address the pain in my head.  I categorize it (where is it, how bad is it, what's the quality) and I visualize it as residing in a certain part of myself.  For me, this makes it more tangible, so that I can mentally remove it from my thoughts.   

I then picture a scene.  For the purpose of explaining this to you, I'll use a lake in Georgia.  Narrow down what about that scene feels good, serene, or happy.  For me, it might be the sun on my shoulders with the perfect temperature water up to my collarbone.  

Then immerse yourself. Don't concentrate so hard the pain returns, but let your memory wash over you.  For me, I might feel a minnow nip at my toe and the water swish up my neck as a boat causes waves to flow into the cove.  Concentrate on the physical feelings the most, I find they are the easiest to create and need the most thought, so they overshadow your headache much better.

As you practice, and as you get deeper into the scene, you'll find that the details come back to you clearer.  I might get past the feeling of the water and feel the top of my head begin to burn as my hair dries from the roots down.  It's a full-picture fantasy, but it's not bogged down by details of the place that you might strain to remember.  It's all personal experience and feeling.  

Obviously for this to work it should be from an actual memory.  Fabricated feelings are going to be harder to come up with as well as weaker over your headache.  Also, you really do need to have a good imagination.  If you read books often, you'll probably have no problems at all using this method, as it requires the same type of immersion. 

I have many more tricks, but these are the main ones.  I hope that helps, oh-sister-of-mine.

Lobster is disgusting.

Which is why, last night, with the choice of lobster or steak, I very wisely decided to enjoy some steak.

You would think that would spare me from the lobster.  Nope.  My lovely boyfriend decided to have lobster...and I was caught in the crossfire.

Imagine that staring at you. 

Now, I'm not an animal activist or a vegetarian or anyone that gets upset over the fact that the entire lobster body is staring at me.

Or so I thought.

It was unnerving.  It's little antennae were this close to touching me.  I just wanted to enjoy my steak!  And yet I had to witness the carnage that is involved in consuming lobster.

That being said, I understand why people have lobster bisque or the lobster rolls.  It seems a lot of effort goes into eating a whole lobster.  I was thoroughly disgusted by the raging battle next to me.  It was also kind of sad, because even though the lobster was already dead, I was for a short while debating on who was actually winning the battle occurring not two feet from me.

Firstly, torture devices are used:

Oh god. It's like something out of Saw.  Or the dentist's office.

They viciously crack through the outer shell of the lobster and then rip the flesh from the casing.  

Disgusting.

As I go into the next part of my riveting story, I would like to reassert that I love my boyfriend very much and I would never do anything to hurt him.  He's cute, funny, and intelligent---saying words like "difficult" in place of "hard" to illustrate that last point.

But he friggen' cracked open that lobster and sprayed lobster juice all over my face and shirt.

Now imagine that with a look of complete disgust, and my hands coming up to block my face.
That's about right.

And then he laughed.  At me.  

It probably wasn't that much lobster juice.  Not gonna lie.  But I had already grossed myself out with the lobster staring at me and so the droplet of "water" sliding down my nose had me ready to jump in a decontamination unit, CDC-style.

Not to mention the rank smell of salty-death-water was rapidly decreasing my appetite.

As was the carnage in front of me.

Funny story.  So I went looking for a picture of a lobster, post-dinner style, and I didn't find anything until I actually typed in "lobster carnage". Glad to know I'm not alone.

Gross.