Saturday in State College was an absolutely gorgeous day, so naturally, everyone I knew ducked into an air-conditioned movie theatre to see one of the latest summer movies.

I didn't see one myself, but all of my roommates and most of my friends had. Transformers and Ratatouille seemed to be the favorites. I heard mixed reviews of both, but that's for another blog...

Anyways, I always like the conversations that follow right after you see a movie. There's always the - "What if this happened instead of that," or "I wish it would have ended like this" type comments. My friends took that to a whole new level. I give you the very first: What Would You Pick series, Transformers edition --

"What would you pick, having sex with Megan Fox, or having Optimus Prime narrate your biography in movie form?"

"What would you pick, having sex with Megan Fox, or having a million dollars?"

"What would you pick, having sex with Megan Fox, or finding the cure for cancer?"

Let's just say you won't see Optimus Prime narrating any biographies in the near future.

But besides the whole Saturday movie night, Friday was pretty eventful too. I played poker with some dudes and a fellow dudette, visited some friends from freshman year and made it back to the first apartment I was at to catch the Phillies lose in the 11th inning. I'm a Pirates fan, so you'll get no sympathy from me.

So whether you'd rather go to the movies, watch some baseball, crash Beaver Canyon or have a quiet night in, you've got choices here at Penn State, even during the not-so-fast-paced-summer.

So even if the summer party scene isn't busy, you can bet Megan Fox will be.

While the rest of Happy Valley was welcoming back alumni and friends for Arts Fest weekend, I was headed home.

Home is a small town 50 miles south of Pittsburgh and the occasion was my sister's high school graduation party on Saturday.

I was really excited to go home and eat my weight in food. I mean come on, there was a table completely devoted to cookies - hence the name "The Cookie Table" - and my aunt transported a three-tiered graduation cake from Ohio. It was gorgeous. And then I ate it all.

It's not the Prah family way to have parties catered. Usually a party includes roasting chickens all day with Hungarian paprika and lots and lots of garlic. However, this time, considering the size of this shindig, it was time to call in the caterers.

Our backyard looked like a circus - two tents, tables and chairs, and of course, the volleyball net.

Now, when I assembled this volleyball net, I thought at the most, it would be used by my sister, her friends and our multitude of cousins. WRONG.

This volleyball net became a battle ground.

Once my aunts and uncles had their fill, they suckered us into volleying with them. This was not a good idea in any way.

They don't get this excited when they argue about the Steelers and the Browns. In an overzealous spike, my uncle jumped into the air, missed, fell to the ground and ripped his shirt from armpit to hem. My sister had two bloody knees by the end of the game, we lost the ball in the woods five times because my aunt doesn't have a sense of direction and there was almost a sibling brawl in mid court after the back row wouldn't pinch up.

And then we stopped and ate again.

Come Sunday morning, I was not ready to come back to school, no matter how many times I told all my relatives how much I love Penn State (and I really do). I met cousins and played with babies I had never seen before. I sat at a table with a tablecloth and ate with family instead of sitting here at this computer desk shoveling in pizza or some other eatery. It was nice.

But it is nice to come back to a place where you can contemplate what would happen if a lion's vocal cords were transplanted into a human, (seriously, just think about it) and not get sideways glances.

So since I can't be home sweet home, I'll be happy at my home away from home. Designin' yo pages, savin' yo lives.

- Erin

I know this blog is about nightlife, but please allow me to diverge temporarily.

Saturday was one of those summer days that your parents pine about. You know, when you're outside and your parents say - "This reminds me of what summer used to be when I was a kid." Ok...well, maybe that's just my parents.

Anyways, it was summertime perfection. A bunch of us Collegianites decided it was a day made for BBQ. So we gathered at a friend's house, broke out the grill, the Miller Lite and the Allman Brothers/Jimi Hendrix.

We played horseshoes in the backyard for the better part of the day - although we never actually made it through a complete game (a score of 11?) and some of us, myself included, couldn't grasp the fine art of throwing a horseshoe across and not straight up. You'll be glad to know there was only one casualty, and he gets out of the hospital tomorrow (just kidding...no seriously.)

It was one of those times when you're kind of excited about growing up. It was a simple barbeque, nothing flashy, nothing stressed. It was everything a summer Saturday should be. If you've ever heard the chef Wolfgang Puck say - "Live, Love and Eat" it was pretty much that in a nutshell.

But just so I don't lose my street cred - I got wasted on Friday night, man! Nah, not really. The rumors are true, I'm a wimp. I played some pool, was a bystander to an X-rated pong game and witnessed the wedgie to end all wedgies. Seriously, he went down faster than Dubbya's approval rating.

And I know I'm behind, but how much fun is guitar hero? I was a firm believer that that game was the sucks, but I've been converted. I'm so good I can play it without the guitar. I have a witness. It's because I'm so musically inclined. Have I told you how musically inclined I am? I'm pretty inclined...music-wise. (Apparently I wanted to let everyone know I was musically inclined that night.)

Well I am!

But you know what, this weekend was one of the best I've had at Penn State. It was the perfect balance of college student and semi-adult. My only regret was that my guy was stuck in Illinois for it all. He would have helped me keep my musically inclined-ness to myself.

I topped the weekend off with my first viewing of the movie Cars. I highly recommend it to anyone who likes animated movies with lots of innuendos.

I'll leave you with a line from Filmore, the hippy shaggin' wagon from Cars. This guy knows what's up.

Filmore: Respect the classics, man! It's Hendrix!

- Erin

Oh, baseball.

We have a love/hate relationship. I love that you're America's favorite summer pastime and that ballparks are perfect places to spend cool summer nights, but you keep my attention for only about the first three innings and then I start to lose track of things.

However, you do have one redeeming quality that has the ability to pique my interest -- hecklers.

I went to a Spikes game on Friday night with a group of buds and I think we were all in agreement that, while the game itself was less than thrilling, the heckling was absolutely priceless.

For instance, we were at the top of the first inning and one of my friends started some trash talk on the Auburn Doubledays' uniforms after a player slid into third and ripped the seat of his pants: "Get some real uniforms! Fabric of our lives, my a**!"

Then he got started on the third base coach who was out of uniform: "Why are they wearing long sleeves? It's hot outside! Where's your uniform coach? T-shirts don't count."

After a few innings he took a liking to Spikes' Bobby Spain: "Let's go Bobby! Viva Espagnol! Bobby! Bobby! Bobby!" (A slow clap that didn't quite catch on accompanied this.)

Or, after a player stole third base: "It's very hard to steal third base and you did it! You did it, sir!" For this compliment I believe he actually stood up and clapped, nodding his head in approval.

One of the best advantages to sitting in the second row on the third base line, is that Auburn team members had to run infront of us from time to time to get to and from their dug out. This was just too easy: "BOOOOOOOOO! BOOOOOOOOO! Why are you running away? Hey don't you smile at me! I saw that! What's so funny big guy? Come over here and face me like a man!"

We had plans to stand up and cheer for them when they ran past us in the last inning to really mess with their heads, but unfortunately, we never got the chance.

But by far, the best event of the whole night (no it wasn't the Nookie Monster, although that thing is pretty damn awesome/ horrifying) was the heckle of the century. Allow me to set the scene.

It's the top of the ninth. Score is 2-1, Spikes. Two outs with Auburn's #25 up at bat. I believe there was one strike. The park is dead quiet, as this had the potential to be the game ender.

Then, another one of my friends, who had been relatively quiet during the game, stands up and made the heckle of the century. The following is the reader's digest version. It was a lengthy one.

Ode to #25: "Hey number 25! You'll never make it to the majors! You'll only languish in obscurity until you retire with a broken body and shattered dreams and your only memories of this will be grim reminders of what could have been but never was!"

In the midst of crying from laughing so hard, we were positive #25 was gonna send a line drive our way and take us all out. But instead he struck out. Bummer. (Mwhahahaa!)

On a side note, this is the same kid who dressed up as a hamburger bun during the sixth inning break and won the "Dress the Hamburger" contest. What a trooper.

So, if you ever want to enjoy America's favorite past time, Spikes style, may I suggest you take along a lot of friends, a lot of money (food prices are ridiculous) and a lot of lung capacity. You'll need it.

- Erin