Monday, December 27, 2004
. . .
I'm going to the visitation and funeral tonight.
Saturday, December 25, 2004
Wednesday, December 22, 2004
Christmas shopping
Let me count the ways...
Because of...
2 silky camisoles,
2 comfy pairs of jeans,
1 green Ski Bunny shirt,
1 snuggly Aspen retro ski long-sleeve tee,
1 orange polo,
1 soft beige cardigan, and
1 ribbon belt (which so snazzily matches exactly the beige cardigan and the lace on a camisole)
...and by far, thy most expensive item was a 16.50 polo shirt; this, truly, is why I love thee so deeply.
Tuesday, December 21, 2004
bamboo slivers under my fingernails
I just realised, the constant presence of the rapper/deciding my major might not be the only things affecting my phobia/lack thereof. The worried, anxious part of my personality started receding at the same time I started spending all day, every day (except for saturdays) at school, instead of at home. And now it's surfacing again. Finals just got over yesterday, this is the first day of my being at home, and my nerves are already feeling shaky.
I don't want this anymore.
Monday, December 20, 2004
the weapon I'm talkin bout is mistletoe
I totally understand the feeling behind it -- "today was my last final! woo! enough with the books and the writing of papers and the staying in this place until after it closes! enough with getting 105% on tests! enough with only getting to watch 'Seinfeld' two days a week! enough with having no social life! enough with being the teacher's pet! enough with the fluorescent lights! enough with the grimy unergonomically-correct keyboards! enough!"
but I totally don't understand the stinkiness. ICKY STINKINESS.
Sunday, December 19, 2004
no. way.
I did a search of the site and found a "new faculty member" who has taught english and french for 22 years, but other than that blurb (posted I-don't-know-when), there is absolutely no mention of her on the site. No course listings, no e-mail address, nothing.
Thursday, December 16, 2004
finals "week" aka THE "WEEK" FROM HELL
At my school, we no longer have finals "week." No, instead of a separate week of tests at the end of the semester, the administration has decided to have finals start on a Friday and run through a Wednesday. Why? I don't know. It doesn't make sense to me, either. I'm just grouchy about the fact that yesterday was the last day of class, and my first final was today -- apparently my astronomy class voted to have it a day early. I was at the library on campus until after 10 pm yesterday, and studied mostly all day today (with a break for a Subway run, where the white rapper turned on the charm by acting mentally retarded (he was my younger brother, Mickey, and we don't take him out much) and smushing chips in my hair) for my 5 o'clock test. I'm confident I got a high A on the astronomy final -- on my previous test in that class, I didn't get an A (my first non-A in that class), and when I opened the cover of the blue book, there was a letter in it from my professor, saying how this was "not representative of your usual work," and do I "want to talk?" and was I "just having a bad day?" Last night I talked with him, and found out that my grade thus far, even factoring in that not so great test, was an extremely high B. I told him I was planning on getting an A on the final; "I'm not arguing with that plan! I want to put another fat A on your exam." Tonight, though, when he was telling another kid and me about his plans for next semester and found out that I'm not going to be here, he threatened to not even look at my test, just give me a zero so that I can't leave. ;) He's the second professor who's threatened that. I'm going to miss it here so much. It's so cozy, so friendly...I know nearly all the professors, and they all call me by name; that campus has seemed like a home for the past two and a half years.
Today, the anthropology/sociology prof caught me sneaking into the teacher's lounge and emerging with some goodies from their Christmas feast. I tried to explain myself to her: "See, the way I look at it is, I've been here longer than a lot of the faculty..."
Tomorrow I have finals in French, and Vocal Techniques...
edit: I pestered my astronomy prof this morning about grading my test, and ran into him in the hall before lunch, when I was going to go see if he had graded it yet -- or if he'd been slacking off again. ;)
"Yes, your test is graded."
"Oh! May I see it?"
"No, you may not. Because if I let you see it, there will be no living with you anymore, because your head will be this big."
Then, he didn't even tell ME what my grade was, but instead talked with another professor who was standing there, about my grade.
"Yeah, so SHE just got 105 on my final. Not 105 points. 105 percent. Sheesh."
Monday, December 13, 2004
trendsettee
2. Fashion Designer (first word to your left + favorite restaurant): Windows Garden
3. Socialite (silliest childhood nickname + town where you first partied): DJ Dallas
4. "Fly Girl," e.g. "J. Lo" (first initial + first two or three letters of surname): D. Mas
5. Detective (favorite baby animal + where you went to high school): Kid Valley
6. Soap Opera (middle name + street name where you first lived): Joy Seventeenth
7. Rock Star (favorite candy + last name of favorite musician): Nutty bar Martin
^ Heidi's was cooler.
feeear me
- I've decided on a major
- The constant presence of a white boy rapping.
Whatever it is, I'm not complaining. It's amazing, this being able to live without such choking fear.
****
As of today, my parents have been married for thirty-five years. Thirty-five. Wow.
Sunday, December 12, 2004
holiday cheer 1.0
Seasons 1 & 2
J: "So what did you tell him?"
K: "I said, 'Jump!'"
When I move away and have a pet, I will name him "Kramer." And he will be my Kramer.
I messed with my hair with scissors again. Everytime I think about it, it sounds like a good idea, until I actually do it. I just get an itching for the feeling of cutting my hair sometimes. I can't believe this. What am I, FOUR?
I watched almost all of SNL last night, and enjoyed it so much -- though it isn't as great without Jimmy Fallon, and why do people keep talking about Lindsey Lohan's boobs? Are they really that interesting? I don't think so...but maybe that's just me.
Wednesday, December 08, 2004
death throes
art prof: "I'm getting old. I...I don't like getting old."
me: "That's ok Don, you can still come play Spin-the-Bottle with us anytime."
The semester is winding down; my astronomy presentation is over, as of last night; the library is open an extra hour at night until finals are finished. The set from the last play is stuffed into the shop, half dismantled; the stage has little green splotches of paint all over and needs to be repainted. The professors are getting more boisterous; the students are getting quieter -- scared out of their minds thinking about finals.
When I'm nervous, anxious, or distressed, I play piano. It's a temorary escape; it allows me to take the hurt from inside my mind and give it to the instrument, so I don't have to think about it for a while. Yesterday I sought solace from the piano in the Fine Arts Center, and this led to a new arrangement of "What Child is This," one of my favorite Christmas songs (that and "O Holy Night"). When my hands work out something that sounds nice, I have to keep playing it.
I have a babysitting job tonight, and I am SO glad.
Sunday, November 21, 2004
requiem for a nightmare
. . .
I don't know. And now, I'm relieved I don't have to figure it out.
Wednesday, November 10, 2004
amelie and magical girlfriends
When/if I ever snag a boyfriend, I'd darn well better not be a magical girlfriend. he'd better talk about me, at least drop a hint, at least let the "g" word pass through his lips sometimes. there is only one thing I dislike more than magical girlfriends, and that is brushing my teeth in front of people. this is serious.
In the movie "Amelie," the young woman (Amelie, heh) finds pleasure in bringing special beauty into the lives of those who surround her, in the form of little surprises, left anonymously. I feel like Amelie tonight, as I prepare a 7-track CD I'm going to slip into someone's backpack tomorrow (undetected, please oh please! leave your backpack -- unattended -- where you usually leave it when you go to lunch!). sneaky sneaky, O Bestower of Beautiful Music on Unsuspecting Masses.
Sunday, November 07, 2004
weekend quotes
"So I should get a baseball hat!"
"You could...but could you look this good?"
"A vote for Nader is a vote for soul."
Theatre class instructor: "During the Italian Renaissance, people didn't go to the theatre to watch the play. No, they got all dressed up in all their finery, in these amazing outfits, and they went to be seen."
"That's the only reason I come to class. To be seen."
****
Friday night and all day Saturday, I was a middle-school counselor at a camp; all the 12 year olds in my cabin got crushes on two of the male counselors, Dustin and Josh. Last night we were praying before they left, and I started the prayer, asking for safe travel, etc., and then anyone who wanted to pray, could. Kelsey prayed, Mariah prayed, Kerryn prayed, and then I heard Mariah's voice again.
"God, thank you for Dustin."
They were already giggling, and I couldn't help speaking up...
..."God, thank you that Dustin and Josh are so HOTT."
Wednesday, November 03, 2004
wherein realization strikes me like a lightning bolt
At times, John Kerry looks like an old, wrinkly Hugh Grant .
I exercised my democratic right to vote yesterday between my com and astronomy classes. I am so tired of political banter and disgusted by the rude, disrespectful way people treat the candidates (yes, I know I said that that one quiz about John Kerry made me throw up a little. I subsequently issued him an apology). I'm glad it's over; my mom and dad's BushCheney04 lawn signs are down now, and my school is no longer divided. The last few days, Kerry waged a good battle, and was a good loser. His speech today was amazing, and I was very proud of him. Proud to live in America. Clap, people. It's over, and we all have another four years of Bush.
Saturday, October 30, 2004
Thinking
I just went to CompareDecideVote and I am evenly divided between Bush and Kerry. Freak me out. I have a knot of anxiety in my stomach over this election similar to the knot of anxiety in my stomach over surgery this spring. What if I vote for the wrong one?
Friday, October 29, 2004
Get on my bad side 1.0
Tuesday, October 26, 2004
differing opinions and complete respect
The other day, there was a girl in the learning lab on the computer between us who said that she was just fed up with this whole election and isn't going to vote. Pat was horrified. "You're not going to vote?!" Right. She isn't going to vote. "Why?" She didn't have a real answer. "One of the worst things you can do is not vote. [he gestured to me] D's voting -- she and I are not voting for the same person, but I am glad she's voting."
In the crush of 225 people pushing for the doors, Pat and I ended up next to each other, and as we went into the hallway, I noticed the College Republican's table set up, with a roll of 4"x3" BUSH CHENEY 04 stickers sitting on it. We said goodbye, and then I doubled back to the table, snatched a sticker, and put it on his backpack...without him noticing. Unfortunately, his older brother (who's a prof) saw, thought it was funny but that I was going to get myself in trouble, and alerted Pat as to what was on his backpack. I was far away by this time, heh. :P
Later, I walked into the Learning Lab to check my e-mail; Patrick was there. I struck up a conversation... "Hey, Pat, I just wanted to tell you how thrilled I was to see you sporting a BUSH CHENEY 04 sticker earlier. I know they would be thrilled to know that they have your full support this election." One thing I adore is his sense of humour -- he totally didn't miss a beat.
"Yes. I know some people might be surprised by it, but, you know, I've thought about it a lot, and I've realised it was the only logical decision to make. ... That, or some [D] character put it on my backpack."
suburban roadkill
pours forth its powdery guts
onto the white lines,
dusting passing tires with
chalky graininess.
Monday, October 25, 2004
The count is up to 5
Since I'm not a seasoned user of bad language, I'm just plain thrilled.
Friday, October 22, 2004
Quote Book & 150%
Recent additions to Quote Book:
- "Why? Because I'm a nerd, that's why." - MSP
- "I'm pretty sure that's what's holding my car together -- bumper stickers." - KJF
- "I don't have the money to put you all on a plane for somewhere fun and warm and where the legal drinking age is seventeen." - MSP
- "A mind is not a vessel to be filled, but a fire to be kindled." - Plutarch
- "You know the proverb, 'All things come to he who waiteth'? I like to amend that...I say, 'All things come to he who waiteth and worketh like hell while he waiteth.'" -MSP
Middleface to this post: You know, I'm not against bad language. In fact, I think there is a time and a place for it...but obviously not all the time, everywhere. I'm glad that I have this viewpoint, because if I used bad language all the time, what on earth would I say when confronted with something really awful?
I had a really, really good conversation with ms-prof and a buddy of mine tonight; we talked for nearly two hours after class finished. The main focus of our discussion was on how the public school system is so obscenely dumbed-down; how students are applauded for anything they do, whether or not their work is good and worthy of praise; how undiscipline, mediocrity, and poor work has become so accepted. This brought to the surface so much stuff for me; I am so sick of being surrounded by people who do half-assed work and then get mad at me when I do well. Case in point: Today I received my third A in French class. There is a girl in my class who makes a point of asking me how I do on the tests and, when I tell her, gets so miffed and acts like such a jerk. I figure if she didn't want to know, she shouldn't've asked. If she wanted to do well in that class, she should be in the Learning Lab by 8:30 each morning, getting things taped, making flashcards, too; yes, I have a natural propensity for languages, but I still work my butt off, to ensure good grades. She can study and be a good student, or, fine. She is welcome to wallow in her mediocrity, but I want her bad attitude to leave me and my A's alone.
I love doing well in school. A couple semesters ago, I was working 43+ hours a week in an incredibly high-stress environment, and taking 18 credits. There was no time to study, as I was in school from 8:30 am through 3 pm, and worked from 3 until 10:30 or later; I live half an hour away, so a usual day involved me being out from 7:45 AM until 11:15 PM or so. I cannot exist on fewer than six hours of sleep; I get physically ill (and, um, why am I sitting here instead of sleeping? I got two hours of sleep last night because I was so stressed out about my French test; for at least 5 days before a test, I don't sleep well, and I hardly eat anything. It's like I go through anorexic phases ten times per semester). I failed two classes. Failed. I'd never failed a class before. I totally lost all confidence in my ability as a student, and had such a low opinion of myself; I thought I was stupid -- because how else could I fail even one class? Even now, when I get straight A's, I still don't have confidence in my ability. My professors love me, they uphold me as a good example; tonight, in fact, ms-prof read aloud one of my answers (he actually didn't say it was mine, because "I don't want to embarrass [this student" but, heh, I have my answers memorized) for the test we took a week ago, and applauded it, saying it was excellent and just the kind of answer he was looking for...and that he hadn't, prior to reading my answer, even been aware of some of the facts I presented. That's what I like to hear. :D
The conversation we had tonight motivated me even more -- I am going to conquer math. Maths and sciences have never been my forte, and I thought they were just subjects that I would never understand. He told me tonight that math is a skill, math is a really good skill to have, and that being skilled in mathematics opens so many doors. Conquering math is no different than conquering a language or a musical instrument, and I have proven multiple times that I'm capable of doing those things. Tonight when I got home, I pulled out my old Algebra II book; there were some concepts in there that I still have trouble with, and I am going to figure them out. I finished my Intro to College Algebra course with a B, and I know I can do better than that. I'm sick of being intimidated by math.
Another point ms-prof made tonight that hit home was about how, when a professor tells you that you need to do that much to get a good grade on the test, why do only that much?! Why not do THIS MUCH, and have complete knowledge of the subject?
I'm starting Nicholas Nickleby, by Charles Dickens; I feel like such a sponge, wanting to soak up as much knowledge as possible.
Thursday, October 21, 2004
smellin good, man!
You are so in my quote book, man.
Wednesday, October 20, 2004
ethical dilemmi
Apparently not. Yay.
----
Guys who smell good should expect to have women sniffing their necks at frequent intervals during the day, and not shoo them away.
Tuesday, October 19, 2004
what was I thinking?!
Yesterday morning I went to the lib on campus to get Ovid's "Metamorphose" [for a wee bit of light reading]. I found it in the computer catalogue, and went to find it on the shelf, but the numbering system here is so screwed up. It doesn't make any sense. At all. So, where Ovid was supposed to be, there was a book creatively titled, "The Boston Strangler."
I checked it out.
Seriously. Me. The freakiest, most paranoid person on the planet, checked out a book on the Boston Strangler! As if I were not already looking over my shoulder enough. I read twenty pages in cafeteria, and got so freezing cold from shaken nerves that I had to put on my jacket and buy food just to warm up.
I left "Amélie" playing in my dvd player all night, so there would be light and sound in the room, and I wouldn't think that a strangler was skulking in the shadows (or at least it would cover up the sound of his footsteps, heh).
But last night, I didn't dream about being strangled. I dreamed about the Russian Revolution, when Nicholas II was ousted and he and his family were murdered; in a woods in Russia, while searching for their remains, workers found a human finger. A finger. Ew. And that is true. Anyway, this finger had centre stage in my dream -- the guy who found it found another one, too, and was going to take them home and paint the fingernails and then put one on display in his house or something [sicko]. And just then when he was holding the fingers and cackling, and a cold chill went down my spine, I woke up, clutching my pillow to myself and seriously freaking out.
Sunday, October 17, 2004
richard cory
Whenever Richard Cory went down town,
We people on the pavement looked at him.
He was a gentleman from sole to crown,
Clean favored, and imperially slim.
And he was always quietly arrayed,
And he was always human when he talked;
But still he fluttered pulses when he said,
"Good-morning," and he glittered when he walked.
And he was rich - yes, richer than a king -
And admirably schooled in every grace.
In fine, we thought that he was everything
To make us wish that we were in his place.
So on we worked, and waited for the light,
And went without meat, and cursed the bread;
And Richard Cory, one calm summer night,
Went home and put a bullet through his head.
-Edwin Arlington Robinson
I adore verse two especially. Verse three, because it's followed by verse four, gives me chills.
recent developments
- I am learning how to play guitar -- I am so excited, even though it's making my tennis elbow/tendonitis flare up almost much as playing violin does.
- I have been over at K&J's (the young couple with two kids whom I met through my mom a while ago; I mentioned K in one of my posts) house last night and the night before. They are wonderful, and K and I hit it off especially; she is so sweet, and so funny, I can't help but love her. She's like...an older sister closer to my age. I love it! J is the one who is teaching me guitar; in return, I'm teaching him violin.
- I think ms prof is being my friend. This is weird. Nice, but disconcerting. I feel like I need to e-mail my old music professor and admit that ms prof is not an arrogant jerk as I had once claimed (to him, my music prof, over munchies at Applebees after a concert).
- I see Joshua Bell again in five (5) days.
- I just might need to employ bad language in French class tomorrow.
- I hate brushing my teeth in front of people.
- I hate watching people brush their teeth.
- Whenever I wash my face, I'm afraid someone is going to come up behind me and try to drown me in the sink. Friday morning was the first morning in 12 years that I have been able to keep my eyes shut during the entire face-warshing procedure -- at the cost of much mental torture. I haven't been able to do it again.
wow.
Astronomy photos
Orion nebula
Monday, October 11, 2004
...something new each day...
Right after I learned it, I announced it to the quiet fine arts centre -- only to be horribly embarrassed when the guy washing the doors gave me a grin, "Oui!!"
"*petrified* You...know what I said?"
"Je parle français!"
"Merde!" *
* Crap, okay? Crap.
Saturday, October 09, 2004
Remember this: caveat.
1. I went stargazing the other night.
2. My french teacher rocks.
3. Someone who used to never acknowledge that I exist, has been having deep, really good conversations with me over the past few weeks, and is making an effort to get to know me.
4. I got a box of nerds a few nights ago [nerd points] because I found Casseiopia all by myself.
5. I'm having Thanksgiving tomorrow with my family [on Thanksgiving Day, I'll be catching a flight to London].
6. I've met such a fun, sweet young married mother who lives, like, two miles from where I live.
7. I've heard the word "caveat" used twice today. Rock on.
8. Today, I listened to a lecture on the physics behind rainbows, and -- wait for it, wait for it -- actually understood it.
9. I can bake pies now.
10. Conan's on.
Tuesday, September 28, 2004
biological clock and crap
I remember on the back cover of a National Geographic from the 70's, there was an ad for...I think it was Kodak...anyway, it was of a guy relaxing (shirtless), with a diapered baby in his arms, and they were just looking each other in the eyes -- anyway, I thought that was so beautiful (I was 9 when I found it, I think). Over eleven years ago. Good heavens.
My birthday was on Sunday, and I spent the day (after going to church, talking to TPR and holding his nephew -- I held a baby on my birthday. awww. I was on a baby-high for the next day and a half) with my friend, H. She and I went to a family fall fest thing (sponsored by her church) at a huge pumpkin patch in town, had food, and colored each other's hair. My hair is now a dark burgundy brown, and when the sun hits it, it's bright red. It's so fun. :D So far, the comments on it stand thus:
J - "I really don't like it." (well, that's fine. I wasn't doing it for him, anyway. :P )
H - "I love it!" (of course. she did it to me. :D )
J - "I noticed it." (amazing, coming from the most unobservant person on the planet)
TPR - "I like it." (aww. thanks, man!)
I love going to a college where I know everyone. My friend C -- recently remarried -- is more like an older brother to me, and when I see him in the morning, he gives me a huge hug, lets me smell him (his cologne is perfectly splendid), and compliments me on some aspect of my wardrobe...it could be my hat, or dangly earrings, or a shirt, or coat, or anything. It's so nice. :)
Thursday, September 23, 2004
so, I was right.
Tuesday, September 21, 2004
hey Kramer, dude, you ever killed a man?
I like saying that in a freaky voice and holding up my hands in front of my mom's face.
Last night at 10:37, I slayed The Beast, but it regained consciousness this morning -- BRIEFLY -- when I realized I'd not alphabetized my bibliography, and had left out one source. But let me say this, I nailed a stake through that sucker's temple and mailed it out PRIORITY today.
May the rejoicing now commence. I love knowing that my evenings are my own again -- that I can watch "Amelie" and Seinfeld and do my regular homework. Without the impending doom of an 18-page research paper hindering the experience.
Today for breakfast, I invented something very tasty and proteiney. In the food processor, I blended 1/2 cup of skim milk, 6 oz of fat-free, sugar-free everything-free strawberry yogurt, 1 1/3 scoops of chocolate protein shake mix, and 5 ice cubes. Mmm. A sugar-free chocolate-strawberry smoothie. That was a nice thing after working up a nice sweat downstairs on the treadmill pre-breakfast.
Is it bad when you're so craved for sweets that you talk to the candy aisle in Walmart? Yeah, I thought so.
Monday, September 20, 2004
demon-possessed mouse
The head librarian here keeps a dish of hard candy sitting out on the bookshelf, and just told me that I can help myself, whenever I want. She really didn't know what she was getting into, when she said that. I can stuff my face. For free. If I wasn't on the Body for Life program. Darn. Oh well, I'll eat my dry pitas and salty cottage cheese and drink my Perrier water and pretend that it all tastes as good as root beer barrels and butterscotch thingies.
Sunday, September 19, 2004
So tell me whattya want, whattya really really want...
Speaking of hats, I started the Body for Life program today. It entails eating healthy food and exercising between 20 and 40 minutes a day, six days a week -- the seventh day you can eat whatever you want, and don't exercise -- for 12 weeks. At the end of the 12 weeks, I will have lost about 23 pounds, and gained nice slim, trim muscle. I'm excited. I feel better physically and emotionally when I'm thinner, and I've gained some weight recently because I've been eating when I'm stressed or anxious -- and I'm stressed and anxious, like, all the time.
Here I come, New Me!
Let the countdown begin!
Joshua Bell, here I come!
Saturday, September 18, 2004
TGiS
Dear God (and my family),
Please let me sleep in today. I need it. I know I slept in yesterday morning until 10:29, CST, but I'm really tired today, too. Saturdays are made for sleeping -- that's why it starts with an S.
-ps37
Friday, September 17, 2004
"blarg blarg bloo, ok?" "HUH?"
I'm horrible at lip-reading. So blatantly awful that we nearly burst out laughing during the lecture; something which would have been very odd indeed -- two people, one sitting in the front of the room (and supposed to be facing the front), one sitting much further back, simultanously bursting into laughter at, um, what exactly? Uh-huh. Astronomy is that funny, folks!
Wednesday, September 15, 2004
...that means YOU, Maria
9-15-04
TO: Maria Shriver, NBC
FROM: A Disturbed Boss, the Bossiest of All Bosses
RE: Siegfried and Roy
Ms. Shriver,
1. Don't use the word "inspiring" in the same sentence as "Roy Horn." Especially when the "Roy Horn" part is accompanied by an "is SO" which is then immediately followed by the "inspiring."
2. This morning, you used this odd coupling of words four times in two minutes. OVERLOAD!
3. I hope your cold gets better.
-ADB,BoAB.
----
mom: *gasps in amazement and holds up gargantuan chicken breast*
ps37: *clutches own chest* "I feel so bloody inadequate.
Sunday, September 12, 2004
mojo, etc.
----
The rest of this is a whine.
I never used to be allergic to anything other than honeydew melon; that state lasted until I was 14 or 15, and I've been gradually acquiring other allergies. I'm allergic to a whole slew of preservatives (monosodium glutamate, sodium benzoate, potassium benzoate, potassium sorbate -- think Doritos [or any flavored chips except for SunChips], nearly all soda, almost all deli meat, KFC, pizza, barbeque sauce, nearly all asian or european cuisine served at restaurants here in the US, etc.), sodium nitrites (bacon, ham, pepperoni, anything like that), pollens (I have a headache, sore throat, and sinus problems 8 months out of the year), cats (we have three, and we are not getting rid of them), walnuts, honeydew, pineapple, kiwi fruit, corn and corn products (popcorn, corn chips, etc.), and bean plants, to name a few. I'm sick of feeling sick all the time. Ibuprofen and otc allergy stuff doesn't really help. At this rate, I'll be living in a bubble by the time I'm 25. No wonder I won't get married, Jenni.
Saturday, September 11, 2004
darn the low pressure systems
I have a 15-page (not including the cover page or bibliography) paper due on the 21st of this month. Ten days away. On homosexuality. If the topic was anything else, it'd be finished by now (or at least 10 pages further along than this one is). There's only so much you can say about it -- and I've said it. Now I'm trying to think of really creative ways to tease this sucker out to the required length.
I have to write a 2-page paper for the blankety-blankety-blank-blank new music professor. I want the other music professor back. I miss my friend.
I have to stumble through another part of a chapter for astronomy -- jump in, try not to drown in it, and pull myself out with my fingernails, on the other side.
I have to memorize a song to sing for that new music professor. I so do not want to do this.
I have to read another chapter or two in my theatre book.
And I'm already terrified about midterms, which are over a month away.
Thursday, September 09, 2004
the pickup line that almost was
Thank you, Lord, for keeping my big mouth shut.
kangaroos and record lows
"Lately, my heart's been jumping like a kangaroo on steriods," was the thought that flashed across my mind, neon light zapping my retinas, as I stood refilling my water bottle.
The astronomy professor prodded a dozing student in the front row; "You're not going to die on me, are you? That'd really be a new low in the history of teaching."
The same professor exclaimed with gusto a few nights previous, "Muslims go to Mecca; nerds go to Westminster Abbey!" Thanks. I'm going there in November but you are STILL more nerd than I will ever be.
Surveying the rhinestones that spell out "Anne Klein" across my chest, "Hey, is that Braille?"
I left a message on Dad's cell just before I had to go to my astronomy class wherein the professor spent the entire hour and fifteen minutes bashing the Church: "Oh, wait, I have to go; it's almost time to enter the Chamber of Death. Love you. Bye."
Lately, we've gone through more toilet paper than a woman pregnant with triplets.
I'll spare you from the rest.
r U mY mAn?!?!?!?!?!
My Man Must:
-be a true Christian
-have beautiful, artistic hands
-love and cherish the odd person I am
-realise that I'll have crappy days where all I want is a hug and a shoulder to cry on
-not be arrogant (die! die! die!)
-not be too macho to weep occassionally
-love worshipping the Lord
-have lovely eyes
-adore children
-[without my asking] Rub my feet when I'm pregnant
-get along well with my family
-recognize the fact that I'm an odd individual, and not try(or want) to make me change
-want to travel
-love learning
-have lovely hair, but not on his back or feet(eew!)
-get excited and put christmas decorations up in early november
-want a dog
-be nice and warm to snuggle up to
-adore my wonderful cousins
-feast on my nephew's cheeks with me
Not in any order except for the first three. Oh, and the ones about hair and snuggling and eyes and cannibalism. Those are important, and are vying for a place in the first three.
Any applicants who fit all points, please clone yourselves and spread out over the world in a network of Great Eligible Guys, so as to counteract the influx of Horrible Awful Guys.
Allons au café François!
Un moment, Mademoiselle...Oui, Mademoiselle, vous désirez?
Un café crème pour moi, e pour Madame, une orange pressée, s'il vous plait.
Oui. Pour Mademoiselle, un café au lâit, e pour Madame, une orange pressée, oui?
Non, Monsieur. Pour moi, un café crème, s'il vous plait; pour Madame, oui, une orange pressée, s'il vous plait.
Oui. Pour Mademoiselle, un café crème; e pour Madame, une orange pressée.
Oui, oui.
...
Voilà...un café crème pour Mademoiselle; e pour Madame, une orange pressée!
Merci, Monsieur!
Je vous en prie, Mademoiselle e Madame.
Monday, September 06, 2004
gobble up the babycheeks!
Thursday, September 02, 2004
spinsterhood!?
My love story is not being lovingly crafted by my heavenly Father.
Apparently it's in the hands of someone here on Earth.
I've been relegated to the realms of ancient spinsterhood by none other than (...wait for it, wait for it...) Jenni.
I thought she loved me!