The Fall of Breaks Began with this One a.k.a Title Laura Thinks of in a Desperate Attempt to Be Clever

Because today marks the one week anniversary of Fall Break 2012, I thought no better way to celebrate than to write a commemorative entry highlighting the dramatic ups and downs of my experience. Seeing as I’m from Florida, it is sadly not feasible to spend $300+ on a plane ticket to essentially be home for 2.3 days.  So, unfortunately, as much as I miss my dog, my duck, my family, and steady water pressure in the shower, I typically remain here in good ol’ Williamsburg. Also unfortunate was the fact that my sister was away on tour with her a capella group (visiting and performing at prestigious college campuses across the northeast, an experience of which I am not jealous or bitter over whatsoever). But luckily, I consistently have a friend or two that finds themselves in the same situation I am, so we text each other and arrange to be lonely together.

And because I’m confident my impassioned readership is silently begging for details, I have provided you all (assuming there’s more than one person that reads my blog) the day-by-day:


  • Woke up around noon-thirty, eased my way over to the Caf to get breakfast (would that still qualify as breakfast?), and cheerfully discovered the pleasant revelation that they closed at 1.
  • Went promptly back to my room, Googled the dining hall hours schedule with great voracity, branded it into my memory.
  • Laid on the Sunken Garden for several hours with my friend [Chis]Yake, after (customarily) arguing for 45 minutes about what to do that day (stay inside and watch movies vs. be outside and not feel horrible about ourselves for staying inside).
  • Watched Dial M for Murder later that night.
  • Paused every 10 minutes or so to share with Yake all the thoughts that crossed my mind as they came about (and to also make him explain the confusing parts I missed when I wasn’t paying attention).
  • Yake grew increasingly annoyed with me.
  • I gave him some pretzels to make him less mad.
  • It worked.


  • Ate a sweet potato with chili and bacon (choosing a sweet potato over a savory potato [I’m going to start calling them that] was originally an accident, but by the end of it I assure you I felt no regret).
  • Later I was thrown a thing-that-you-throw-to-save-someone’s-life-when-they-fall-off-a-boat by my friend Carly, who picked me up and brought me to Target with her, where I bought mascara and she bought ingredients for peach cobbler. (Carly wins.)
  • Went back to Carly’s apartment, where I reclined on the couch and texted, which I promise you is an ENTIRELY different and radical experience from reclining and texting in my room.
  • Got back to campus, got dinner with Yake, sat duty in Yates, talked to my little brother about his awesome camping trip (an experience of which I am not jealous or bitter over whatsoever), went to bed.

Monday and Tuesday

  • These two days are being condensed into one, because I did similar things on both days, and also because I am losing patience with myself.
  • I don’t remember what I had for lunch, because all I know is that more friends were slowly trickling back and the elation of not being alone (or alone with Yake) anymore was blinding (plus I doubt you care about what I had for lunch).
  • Naps were fit in there somewhere , that much I can guarantee.
  • Watched Jiro Dreams of Sushi and The September Issue, two fantastic documentaries I highly recommend (that have put me in a position where I now need to decide if I’m going to be a sushi chef or a magazine editor when I grow up).
  • On Monday night, I saw Pitch Perfect at the Movie Tavern with Carly and our friends Blaise and Bryan. The fun part was the movie itself, and also Carly giving me sips of her milkshake.
  • I ate dinner both days… I also remember that.
  • Finally, on Tuesday night, I sat at my computer and made a list of everything I needed to get done over break, but as you have just read, and as I have recently discovered, did none of it.
  • However, similar to my sweet potato debacle, I have no regrets.
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