The Slant» Charlotte Fraser

Counter Point: Breaking Bones

Charlotte Fraser — Mon, 19 Apr 2010 22:55:58 +0000

Eighth grade is supposed to be a year of boy bands, sparkly lip gloss, acne, and the dying love of that enigmatic concept called high school. For me, it was the majority of that (well, replace the boy bands with Green Day. What’d you expect?) but with one lovely curveball thrown in: breaking my face.
Yes, you read that correctly.
It was the second week of school. A friend of mine, attempting at generosity, had a gaggle of girls over for a sleepover. I politely accepted, and believe I even brought a hostess gift of a bag of Reese’s Pieces.
Everything was magical and Lisa Frank worthy until that fateful moment.
The moment that changed everything.
Well, maybe just my face.
I did gymnastics when I was younger. Wanting to outdo whichever gymnast was considered “beast” before Shawn Johnson, I decided to do a front flip and land on my feet. 99.999999% of the time, this is what happens. But this time, I had the 0.000001% failure. My friends even warned me that my accident-prone nature might get the best of me (they barely even knew me and my bad luck already preceded me…), but I rolled my eyes and did it anyway, saying with confidence: “I did this all the time, I never hurt myself! And if you’re worrying about broken bones, I haven’t broken a single one!!” With which my right knee shoved into my face, fracturing my cheekbone 18 times, breaking the orbital (the bone that holds your eye in your face), and breaking my nose in 4 places—and now, since they didn’t do surgery then, I have to get my nose rebuilt on June 3rd (Care packages greatly appreciated).
Justin can sit on his high, healthy boned chair and gab all he wants to. He just better watch out before his face gets rammed in. By his knee. On a trampoline.

Breaking your face isn’t a glamorous movie make-up job. You don’t get kudos for being in a fight worthy of mentioning in an S.E. Hinton book. No, it just fucking hurts. Allergies are a bitch enough, it’s worse when you can’t blow your nose without crying like a baby and your face looks like it got transplanted from a Smurf–all in time for
picture day!!! I’ve had double whiplash, severe tendonitis in both shoulders, recurring sinus infections, bloody noses, hangovers, migraines, paper cuts, and bleeding knees. THIS IS SENT FROM HELL…OR SPARTA. As for this surgery, here’s what goes down. Basically, my nose is nothing but broken bones & scar tissue. So first they have to carve
out my nostrils to make them bigger. Then, they take all the skin off my nose and, in Ashlee Simpson style, realign the cartilage in my nose (aka, rebreaking my nose to put it back together). Then I get plastic shoved up my nose to keep my nose from healing shut together (so my nose would look more like Voldemort than Ashlee) and can’t breathe. So, while I get to be a lazy ass for three weeks, I’ll have blood running down my face ala Andrew WK and won’t be able to breathe through my nose.

Hot diggity damn.

A Day in the Life of a Miley Cyrus Look-A-Like

Charlotte Fraser — Wed, 24 Mar 2010 05:12:59 +0000

So I’m sitting in the waiting room of my doctor’s office, minding my own business, when a little girl walks up to me wide-eyed. Now, I love kids. Kids love me. We have a connection, get me? So I smile and say “Well, hey there!” And what does she do in response? Ask one of the two questions that turn me into an AK-47 wielding maniac: “Are you Hannah Montana?” or “Are you Miley?”
I try not to let the kid see my eyes are turning red and my veins are becoming bigger than the Hulk’s, and say through gritted teeth “No, sweetie, I’m not Miley.” She then turns her head down and walks away sulking to her mom.
Miley Goddamn Cyrus, I fucking loathe your existence.
It was bad enough she existed when she was just making a terrible TV show with cavity bubblegum pop. It was even worse when she started to go mainstream and start releasing slutty pictures of herself. But when someone made the connection one day early in my senior year of high school, it all went downhill from there. Since then, I’ve had offers to come surprise little girls as Hannah Montana, had one guy get a hard on and lose it once I told him I wasn’t Miley, and had a little boy cry upon finding out I wasn’t her. My DNA is marred for life. I feel like I have to apologize to my future kids for their mother looking so similar to a redneck trash girl.
To everyone out there who likes (I shudder to think…) Miley, I feel a mix of anger and sadness. Why perpetuate this awful torment for me?! Why continue this mad mixup of torture?! It needs to stop—both for my sanity and for the sake of little children…and adolescents…and anyone else who possibly deems her as *cringe* “entertaining”.
So please, for the love of God and all things holy, or just to keep yourself safe, when you see me….just leave Miley in your brain.

Spring Break Survival Guide: Everything You Need to Get What You Want

Charlotte Fraser — Mon, 01 Mar 2010 02:27:08 +0000

Ah, Spring Break. Those wonderful words bring up images of the Bahamas, cruises, Destin, tanned ladies and lads, enough booze to leave frat parties in the dust, and parties—on beaches, in clubs, in bars (especially the one where you lose your fake), in hotel rooms—Spring Break is one big pre-summer, essentially. Since it’s only a week, and once you get back you actually have to use your brain again (sad thought, and no, I’m not thinking about it either), you have to carefully pack and plan ahead. Sometimes, however, we don’t always come up with all the right necessities. Thus, I give you my ideal ****SPRING BREAK PACK**** (feel free to say that in an echoing voice similar to God’s character in Monty Python and the Holy Grail)! I’m dividing up into 4 main areas: booze, tans, food, parties, and babes. Have fun, be safe, get hammered—you know the drill.

Booze: What a wonderful elixir. But sometimes, it leaves you a bit broke. So bring your own in the car with you (if you’re flying, lo siento hermanito, but you’re gonna have to suck it up and buy it there), and be sure to bring a variety. No one likes a week of Taaka if they don’t have to have it. So, bring:
- Whatever variety of booze your group likes (Rum is ALWAYS a favorite, if you forget it you’ll get a few horrified looks, and don’t forget a decent kind of beer—aka, nothing you’d find typically at frat row)
- Enough coozies to represent the preppiness of Vandy
- Coolers
- Money for ice
- Mixers
- More Solo cups than you think you’ll need
- Fake ID (if you’re underage, or just feel weird about people knowing your real name).
- Your (or your mother’s) best hangover cure.
Tans: I consider this the “attempt at sober adventures” part of the budget. Shopping at strip malls, raiding the Waves megastores for henna tattoos and skimpy bikinis, anything random you could possibly splurge on. And if you’re not at the beach, don’t fret—there are plenty of things to do where you’re going (or why else would you even leave Ca$hVille) so research what locals like to do (it’s just a matter of a few minutes on Google) and plan accordingly.
- Beach: suntan lotion, chapstick with sunblock (lips + 2^nd degree sunburn = bad memory), aloe for when you forget to put enough sunscreen on, aspirin for when you get the 2^nd degree sunburn and are stuck inside playing Monopoly (bring that, too) the rest of the time, towels, flip flops, those stupid beach toys if you *really* wanna look touristy
- Elsewhere: suntan lotion, chapstick with sunblock (you won’t think you’ll need either—you’ll need both), and whatever else you think you might not need or your mom would say to pack. What, I’m not a fucking travel agent here, you expect me to know *exactly* where you’re going?!
Food: Yes, believe it or not, you do have to eat. Since you’re on vacay, and probably at a place that has *some* kind of tourist level, they’re jacking up the prices whether you like it or not. So be sure you have plenty of dough for food (and maybe pay for dinner once or twice for that random hookup from Bama).
- Lots and lots and lots of snacks. Multiply your drunk munchie quantity amount by how many days you’re gone and how many people are going….
- Bring food (or buy it there) if you really think one of you won’t be too drunk or hungover to cook. If not, just make sure you have enough in your budget to buy about $50 worth of food a day. Sounds like a lot, but remember, you’re on vacay.
Parties: This is the nice way of allocating the money and supplies you think you won’t need when you realize there’s a huge hole in the wall, the couch is broken, the sink is spurting water, and the window is shattered—all thanks to last night’s party in the condo you’re renting. Yes, prevention/accident budget. Because even we at The Slant think you should be somewhat respectful…somewhat.
- Enough money to cover a terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad disaster (Or access to money, or know where to get that kind of loan).
- The number to the manager of the hotel / maintenance at the condo.
- A prepared speech to ask your parents for money to fix said destroyed room.
- Duct tape (to fix it if it moves and shouldn’t).
- WD40 (to fix it if it doesn’t move and should).
Babes: Whether you’re brining one or planning on grabbing one (or two…or a few), you have to plan ahead for hookups. Cause it’s spring break, and it’s gonna happen.
- Condoms. Lots of them. It doesn’t matter if you go for cheap ones, warming ones, French ticklers, Trojan Magnums, or the new Lady GaGa & Jeremy Scott for Proper Attire condoms—they come in pink, orange, and green animal print and in sheer, ribbed, and studded.
- Money for Plan B. Shit happens.

How to Write a Breakup Letter

Charlotte Fraser — Mon, 08 Feb 2010 02:02:42 +0000

Since Adam first gave Eve shit about eating that damned apple, couples have been having their quarrels and issues. Bella thought Jacob wasn’t stalkerish or sparkly enough. Romeo and Juliet had communication issues. Summer just wasn’t that into Tom. While talking to someone in person to call off any kind of relationship is perfectly legitimate, who wants to be around screaming or yelling or crying or, even worse, have the person convince you not to leave? Psh, forget that. Instead, take a few minutes in your room and do the classy thing: write a breakup letter. Sure, there might be a small delay since you have to either get it into their mailbox (which I know every student checks daily) or do the whole sneaky handoff-to-the-roomate deal and sneakily get it on their desk, but no matter, the breakup-ee will find out eventually, and that’s all we’re really concerned about.
1) First and foremost, start with their name. Please, no nicknames, that just gets all sentimental and the last thing you want is to sound any bit remorseful.
2) Give a little padding by saying something you don’t really mean, like they’re beautiful, a great person, a wonderful addition to your life, blabbity blabbity whatever. That makes them feel like they actually had an affect and can thus guarantee them not wanting to talk to you after out of shock that you’d want to end it.
3) Say something along the lines of “While our time together has been wonderful, I think it’s time we see different people.” NEVER use break up. That guarantees a major prank on your dorm room that I know you’d rather not have, not to mention lots of texts and phone calls out of rage and demanding an explanation. Look, you already have one!
4) If you want to be *really* nice and give yourself even more insurance, try to sugar coat why. I fucked your best friend = “I’m not sure I’m able to give you all the attention you deserve.” You’re ugly = “I think we’re drifting apart and I don’t want to change you or hold you back since you’re such a great person.” I fucked your best friend because you’re ugly = “After being with you, I’ve come to the conclusion that we’re just not that compatible for the long term.” You get the drill—basically put all the blame on you to make the other person look perfect (yet another way to lessen the breakup texts later).
5) Whether you want to or not, state that you want to be friends. They’ll never talk to you again, but they’ll feel better knowing you’re at the “just friends” level again.
6) Finally, say that you hope they do okay, and know that you’ll be there for them, and a bunch of cute chick flick sappy shit like that. That’s the final bolster.
Sign your name at the bottom, stick it in an envelope, stamp it if you feel the urge, and you’re set! One relationship down, one ragefest celebration to go.
If you’re totally against sending a letter, the next best thing is a text, although it’ll take longer since you actually have to talk to them. If that just totally isn’t for you, send them an email so they’ll check it later that day.
Good luck writing, and enjoy being single, asshole!

iPhone Insanity

Charlotte Fraser — Tue, 17 Nov 2009 08:30:35 +0000

THE iPHONE. It’s become a quintessential and mandatory part of life on Vanderbilt campus. It’s like mixing your old iTouch and Blackberry into one device, ensuring that only one electronic item can get damaged while playing beer pong. Needless to say, it makes life complete.

As an avid iPhone addict myself (you think I’m kidding, I’ll have a legit panic attack if I can’t find it), I’ve been searching for the best apps: the most useful, the most relevant, and the most insane. I filtered through apps that made your phone double as a vibrator, track periods, calculate fertility, give you sex ed, track every calorie you consume, give you diet tips, provide useless one-time-only quizzes, rate dates, and multitudinous other extraneous gloriousness…to bring you this list. In this article, I’ll provide you with two Top 10 lists—those apps that we Vandy students have access to (and simply need to make life complete—besides the Facebook, Zippo Lighter, and FML apps), and those that would make our lives as Commodores so much easier.

TOP 10 iPHONE APPS YOU NEED:

gpsAssassin (Free): This app works with the GPS in your iPhone to track yourself—and everyone else with this app—and arm you…for battle. Create a bitchin’ codename, create some rocking awesome weapons, and attack away. Here’s the catch—even when the app isn’t open, you’re always playing. Yes, I do mean ALWAYS…so get ready to randomly be killed at 2 AM, unless you’re smart and hide…for the 4 hours you can. Get ready for brilliant addictive chaos—and if you kill someone with the codename “columbia,” you’ll wish very quickly you hadn’t…
MLIA (Free): FML is great for shits and giggles, but at the end of it, unless it epically deserved the fuck-your-life-able status, you forget them. Not so with My Life Is Average…because far too often, they’re too epically awesome. Example: “Today, while on the NYC subway, a really intimidating thug tapped me on the shoulder when I was changing the song on my iPod. I got really nervous that something bad was about to happen, but I acknowledged him anyway. Turns out he just wanted to show me he had the Glee! soundtrack on his iPod too. It made my day. MLIA”
Echofon (Free): Facebook Mobile is fine, but isn’t it really just for status updates and writing on walls? Welcome to a free Twitter app to stalk every celeb you know, along with the select few (and awesome) Vandy kids (such as myself, stcharly). Just like updating your Facebook status…only insanely often.
Convert Units for Free (Free…duh): Gotta convert angles, areas, data, energy, forces—any of that math or science insanity? Look no further than your phone. Every student in with a class in Stevenson is currently doing cartwheels.
I Am T-Pain ($2.99): I know, Jay-Z, D.O.A. is totally against this app…but dude, autotuning yourself is the shit for anyone, admit it.
Chipotle Ordering (Free): Wanna know how Qdoba gets beat? When Chipotle has go-ahead ordering—right from this app. 2AM burrito runs just got a whole lot better.
Bump (Free): Because exchanging numbers by text is so pre-college. You store yourself as a contact, meet someone else with Bump, both open the applications…and Bump.
ShopStyle Mobile (Free): Wanna find J Crew, Vineyard Vines, Lacoste, and every other Vandy-crazed label all in one place—at a discount? Say hello to this app. Your wallet thanks you, Shopaholic.
Beer Coaster—Drink Counter (Free): Count how many beers, glasses of wine, cocktails, or non-alcoholic drinks (pshhhhhh) that you drink in a night. Every Deb’s best friend!
BMI Calculator (Free): Hey, I said there’d be no CALORIE counters, not BMI calculators!! That’s totally different!!

TOP 10 iPHONE APPS YOU WISH YOU HAD:

Rate My Hookup: Send a pic of that hottie at the frat to other, currently sober time zones in order to get a clear judgment of legit hotness. To hookup or no?
Slut/Douche Rater: Made in the same mindset as Rate My Hookup, it gives unbiased judgment on frat party wear. Must your bust push up that much?
Updates of Pub Orders: Sick of stalling awkwardly away from your table for over an hour waiting for food that you’re not sure will EVER come at this rate? Get updates on your order instantly with messages like “Sorry, your fries just got yanked by another football player” and “Oh, just come back next week and try again.”
Random Number Game: How about making drunk dialing easier by using an app that picks a number for you? Or even when sober, call a random number and pretend to be someone else just to fuck with them!
Prank Number: This app takes your number and will add your number and give you a random name in someone else’s contact list. Let the Domino’s call come pouring in to you!
Change Contacts: Pick a person in your contact list and have all their contact names changed magically to Sesame Street, Harry Potter, Twilight, Biblical, or Music Star names!
Farmville Update: Worried about your crop of grapes dying in class? No big, harvest, plow, and plant all from here!
Syllabus Merger: Get all your syllabi imported into your iPhone calendar with reminders a week ahead, night before, and 30 minutes before assignments are due. Planners? Such a waste of paper!
Breathalyzer: Sure, you can get that clumsy attachment, but wouldn’t it be better to just blow where the speaker is and have your BAC magically appear on the screen?
Hustler Verification: They’re far too serious to be trusted.

There you have it, iPhone loving friends—your complete guide to what really is necessary in life…er, you iPhone’s app list.