Return of The Mai Tai (Drinker)

Asking you to dim the lights because my creative juices have been hibernating for the last 8 months and my eyes need to adjust to the bright light.

Since we've spoken last I've turned 20. I've gotten a hair trim and a new laptop case. I've listened to more Louis CK and Raaaaaaaandy. I've formed better study habbits. I've gotten better at showing up to a party alone. I've become known for my Drew Barrymore impression. 

I have not worn my retainer regularly. I haven't formed a consistent sleeping pattern. I haven't landed an internship yet. I haven't joined any new clubs. I haven't become more spontaneous. I still haven't completely decided on a major (but honestly, who has?).

Times should be changing for me. But they aren't-- not that much. I still do the thing when you walk listening to music you imagine you're in a music video. I still get rejected when I try to say hi to people in passing. I still draw the little triangle dude that inspired my Driver's Ed teacher to tell me I should be a cartoonist (S/O to you, Mr. Wade).

What I'm saying is that while many things in my life are drastically different than the last time I wrote on this God forsaken "blog," I like to think much of myself has been preserved; probably by the grease of Cosmic Brownies and bubbles of Diet Coke.

My diet has also remained the same.

This all makes me think that the 14 year old me would probably size me up and ask two things: 1) Why haven't you changed and 2) Are you Team Edward or Team Jacob? I would respond with 1) I've learned being me is more fun than trying to fit a mold and 2) Unwaveringly, Team Jacob.

So no, I haven't really changed. I think I've just become more me. I think that's what the phenomenon of your twenty-something's is all about. Which makes me so excited for the next 10 years and all the years to follow.

Apologies for getting gooey-inspirational to everyone reading this-- yes all 3 of you! (Hi mom hi dad... Mackenzie.) But sometimes you just gotta say it.  

What Floor?

As an ex-resident of a building that is notorious for its elevators, I happen to know a thing or two about the subject. I'm not sure what it is about being in a vertical moving box with a handful of strangers, but it's one of the most awkward things in the world. To make matters worse, now a days people whip out their cell phones in .07 seconds flat before even letting the awkward set in.

Now, this is not going to be me bashing on my generation. I'm simply trying to get to the bottom of all this. I've heard "Oh my God, I lost my phone; my life is over," many more times than I'd prefer. People, listen up: We're too attached to those little computers we stow away in our pockets. Are they super useful? Yes. Are they super fun? Duh. Are they really the thing we should let our lives depend upon? Umm no.

Technology rocks the terabytes off my hard drive but we've got to start using it in moderation. Next time you whip out your phone, figure out if you really need to. I've compiled a set of questions so you can easily figure out if you should be pulling out your phone.

Are you with friends or family you rarely get to see? Yes? Then put it away.
Are you eating with company? Yes? Then put it away.
Are you currently enjoying one of life's big moments (wedding, birth of screaming infant, etc)? Yes? Then put it away.
Are you ordering pizza? Yes? Cheese please, extra sauce, garlic bread on the side.

Let's backtrack. You know that song by Jason Reeves where he basically reassures you that one day you will find your true love? That one day you'll "take your eyes off the ground out of the blue," and you'll be all 'oh damn' because you'll "see that someone is looking right back at you,"? Yeah that's not going to happen unless we quit it with the whole cell phone craze. Homie's gotta update his lyrics from 'ground' to 'Retina Display touch screen.'

It makes my heart hurt that at times when people should be enjoying the company of their peers, something on the internet comes across as more important. This goes for me, too. I am guilty of occasionally going on my phone when I probably shouldn't be, (like I said, super fun'n'useful) but I'm trying to change that. Cellular devices revolutionized technology but now I think it's time to irrevolutionize it. Unrevulutionize? Derevolutionize? Whatever. It's time.

Back to Reality

Oh, there goes gravity. Sorta.

It's time to buckle down and try to finish this semester without having ALL of my hair fall out; if possible I'd like to at least manage a very respectable combover. I wish I could skip over finals and get to my ever so exciting summer of working in retail, but this isn't the fantastic 2002 Nickelodeon smash hit, Clockstoppers. I've got to focus and just get it over with.

As impossible as it seems, I've finally landed on a major. Drum roll please... The higher education path I've decided upon is ~JoUrNaLiSm~ and I'm stoked. It took me a while but I honestly think this is the one. However, knowing me I'll probably be nearly finished with my junior year when I decide to switch to biology or marketing. My name is Madison Masterson, and I suck at being decisive.

In other news, formals season is approaching. In a few weeks time I'll be expected to have a date, a dress, pregame plans, pre-pregame plans, and an after-party where the fun just don't stop. Most of these things are achievable, but the date thing has got my knickers in a knot. I've never been good at communication and feel wildly uncomfortable and nervous when having the possibility of being turned down (i.e. asking a hot hottie to my sorority formal.)

I digress. I'm very much looking forward to formals because of the memories and friendships that will come out of them. Did I say memories and friendships? I meant the facepaint and photobooth pictures. Nothing teeters my totters more than becoming the yellow Power Ranger then posing with the ever so classic "I actually don't really want to be here," face. It kills every time.

Formals remind me of prom in that half the fun is getting to stalk the photos of everyone else the morning after. Everybody who is anybody will be posting dozens of rad pics snapped at various stages of the night. My personal favorites? The "No no, check this out!" ones taken on the walk home and the "I'm laughing harder now that you whipped out your iPhone to take a picture of me" ones.

Until it's actually go time on all these festivities, I'll likely be spending my time in the library or in McCombs trying to be productive. Keyword: trying.

Yee-Haw and Whatnot.

Round Up this past weekend was, well.... it happened. I spent the days leading up to it fighting a sinus infection and fever which gave my mother hope she could hold me hostage at home instead of releasing me to the wild wild west [campus] to get crazy, get wild, to party, to get loud. But as luck and modern medicine would have it, I was ready for action promptly at three o'clock Friday afternoon. Without further adieu, I give you a rough timeline of my weekend:

Friday 3pm: Walk to dorm with the world's finest, expressing our excitement in every other sentence. I learn what the term "fiend" means.

Friday 4:30pm: I go to a crawfish boil but avoid the crawfish because I don't like crawfish.

Friday 5:00pm: chug chug chug chug chug chug chug

Friday 5:07pm: freshman freshman freshman freshman

Friday 5:18pm: Do something crazy! Do something crazy! Do something crazy! Do something crazy!

Friday 5:25pm: Keg stand! Keg stand! Keg stand! Keg stand!

Friday 9:00pm: Fall in love with Waka Flocka (brought to you ~live~ by ATO)

Friday 11:45pm - Saturday 9:30am: ????????

Saturday 1:00pm: Fed, burped, and bathed.

Saturday 2:00pm: Chipotle burrito bowl FTW.

Saturday 2:50pm: Reunited and it feels so good >>Waka Flocka : take two<<

Saturday 3:04pm: Touching way too many sweaty smelly frat boys at one time.

Saturday 3:50pm: Come up for air. Then back at it for White Panda and ASAP.

Saturday 5:00pm: The best tasting gulp of water I've ever experienced. **break time**

Saturday 7:30pm: Pool House aka the boulevard of broken dreams.

Saturday 7:39pm: Hop the fence because of unwelcome visitors (men in blue, duh)

Saturday 8:00pm: What would Round Up be without a 'lil Towers Turn Up?

Saturday 10:20pm: Party like it's 1999 at Sammy. I express my desire to be wed to a Jewish man.

Saturday 11:56: Kacie makes moves. 'Nuff said.

Sunday 1:00am: Hop The Fence Because of Unwelcome Visitors - The Sequel

Sunday 3:07am: Goodnight Moon! Goodnight Waka! Goodnight Beer Soaked Round Up Jersey!

There is something magical about being rammed up to hundreds of hot, sweaty, hairy, sticky college kids and rocking to the musical stylings of Waka Flocka. I'm just not sure if it's good or bad sorcery yet. Overall I give this weekend a sold 9.4/10. Only reduction is because of the armpits my face unfortunately came into contact with at Sigma Chi's darty featuring Waka. With time I think I'll block those memories from my mind.

In the next five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes until next Round Up, I'm going to measure my year with love; love of dry clothes; love of waking up feeling refreshed, not hungover; love of unbruised skin; and love of my friends and memories from this remarkable weekend. *s'cute*

It Has Sprung.

Spring, I mean.

Guess what folks I survived spring break with flying colors. (My phone, unfortunately, not so much.) So with a new phone and awkwardly placed tan lines, I'm ready to finish off my freshman year strong. I'm the man with the plan and I intend to follow it through. Only, first I have to rage my face off at Round Up this weekend.

Round Up, as I understand it, is a weekend at UT made especially for frat daddies and sorostitutes to pop, lock, jam, and break. Popular musical guests (almost all of whom I have never heard of, but the kids seem pretty jazzed about) make appearances and likely LOL at their neon filled audiences. It will be the best of times; It will be the worst of times.

It sounds all fun and games, but there's actually a lot more to it. So many things to worry about, so many places to go, and so little mental capabilities when you're not yourself (wink wink, nudge nudge). We're talkin' buddy system REQUIRED. I am legitimately fearful of this weekend because of the sheer number of kids that will be going crazy around West Campus. Who will I run into? Will I do or say something I'll later regret? Will I make it back to my dorm room in one piece???

This feels like the making of a bad CSI: Miami episode.

But no need to fear! I'm coming fully prepared with all the gizmos and whats-its I'll need: Friends, food, and agua. I think the only not so gucci-mane thing that will come from this weekend is the bangin' headache I'm sure to have Sunday morning. From there on out, I'll be doing major detox. Not to mention my two midterms and essay for next week. *moment of silence for myself*

Before I fall off the face of the Earth studying for these stress-inducing events, I get to act a fool and nobody can say anything about it. I think this is fan-freaking-tastic. That said, I'll leave you with the only gif I believe can perfectly encapsulate what my life will be like this weekend.

Drunk in Love, 

Mads

The Break of Spring

bum bum bum buh da bum bum. bum bum bum buh da bum bum *under pressure*

At my university, it is tradition that freshmen in the Greek system venture off to Gulf Shores, Alabama, for spring break. I fulfill both said requirements, ergo I will be one of the spirited youngsters doing the venturing. As this trip rapidly approaches, (T-minus five days) the pressure of having a crazy fun spring break has got my mind swimming with ideas of what exactly is going to happen.

The only real references I have to go off of are bad independent films and glimpses of MTV specials. I do have older siblings, but only my brother ever went on the super soaker version of spring break, and with him being my protective big brother, he didn't really dive into the nitty gritty details. So here is how, according to American pop culture, my spring break should go down:

1) After an extremely satisfying road trip full of bonding with my friends, we'll arrive at a beach packed with beautiful, tan, half-naked men and women all buzzed on Natty.

2) I'll join in on the craziness and be so happy-go-lucky that I'll completely forget of the midterms, essays, and general responsibilities that will be giving me stress in a few short weeks.

3) I should be looking HAWT in my new bikini from Victoria's Secret and absolutely LOVING the perverted attention from male onlookers.

4) At some point I will be arrested and will be bailed out by James Franco to become part of his illegal drug distribution business. (Hopefully after all the recklessness I'll remember to ask for Dave's number.)

5) There will be camera's for Girls Gone Wild all over the place; I will not be able to look at some people the same way-- ever. again.

6) Ashanti and Fat Joe will perform.

I fully believe these scandalous predictions of spring break will happen. And yes, I consider Ashanti and Fat Joe performing to be scandalous. I mean, what is this, 2007? If these things don't occur, call up my attorney because that means the media falsely portrayed an event, skewing it to appear more glamorous and sexy than it actually is--which we all know would be morally unsound... right?

If I don't make it back alive, I'd like to leave my Gossip Girl Series DVDs to Ann Thetard and my collection of pressed pennies to Taylor Holmes.

My Welcome Mat: Please Wipe Your Feet

I would like to cordially invite and welcome you to the personal blog of one Madison Masterson. I am currently a student at the University of Texas - Austin and this blog is going to be as disorganized and chaotic as my life. Appropriately titled, Life Undeclared will follow my struggles and (hopefully) successes as I try to decide on a major, graduate in four years, travel abroad, and begin my life as a highly educated vivacious young woman.

So that I'm not a total stranger, I'd like to title the following as "About Me." I'm a crazed One Direction fan. I'm really into indie rock and local bands. I was born and raised in Portland, Oregon, then moved to Chicago, Illinois, when I was eleven. I currently live in Austin, Texas, and if you're guessing I'm a passionate left-winged hippie who yells at people when they don't recycle, you're mostly right. I am very open-minded and I can't stand when people are blatantly wasteful. I was a dancer in high school and it is a pitiful fear of mine that that was my peak.

As I said before, I'm in what's considered the "outlining stage" for the thesis paper of life. Keep reading until I get to the juicy first draft, or end here. Either way, I thank you for your presence.

-Mads