As I'm sitting in the airport in Mexico, waiting to take the plane back to Kansas City... I started to think about something...
The very first post on this blog was from this airport. Isn't that strange? How often I'm here.
Anyways, I'm working on a couple of new, longer posts. I'm sorry I've been gone for so long. I'll get some new ones up soon :) I kind of took a break for Thanksgiving.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
People are rude
Now I know I've had one people bashing post today but this is getting ridiculous. Now I'm wondering if people are always this rude.
Now yes, I dislike my generation... But I don't lump all of them together. For all the bad apples there are some good ones.
However, when I'm at Walmart and someone tries to correct me when all I'm doing is making a joke?? Come on now!
Cranky lady and her thanksgiving turkey can't take a joke? Sorry I tried to talk to the cashier. Laughing in my face and telling me that the rising price of food is actually NOT because of the thing I was joking about only proved how much of a sorry life you lead.
I understand that we're in a recession. Christ does America really have that short of an attention span? At least this isn't the recession of the 1970's or (heaven forbid) the 1930's!!!! SO MILK IS A BUCK SEVENTY-FIVE!!!!
AT LEAST GAS ISN'T FIVE DOLLARS WITH A TEN GALLON LIMIT!!!!!
God get over yourself you fat old hag. Yes, I'm young and virile, but I'm not stupid! I watch the news! I listen in class! I'm in college!
Don't think that just because you can complain about the price of a Thanksgiving turkey that means that you are suddenly smarter than me?! I can complain about all kinds of things but that doesn't make me smarter than anyone else!!!!!
I can complain about YOU but I don't know anything about you! AND I DON'T CARE TO!
Be polite. Don't complain about my generation when you can't even keep from judging someone just because of a joke.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Now yes, I dislike my generation... But I don't lump all of them together. For all the bad apples there are some good ones.
However, when I'm at Walmart and someone tries to correct me when all I'm doing is making a joke?? Come on now!
Cranky lady and her thanksgiving turkey can't take a joke? Sorry I tried to talk to the cashier. Laughing in my face and telling me that the rising price of food is actually NOT because of the thing I was joking about only proved how much of a sorry life you lead.
I understand that we're in a recession. Christ does America really have that short of an attention span? At least this isn't the recession of the 1970's or (heaven forbid) the 1930's!!!! SO MILK IS A BUCK SEVENTY-FIVE!!!!
AT LEAST GAS ISN'T FIVE DOLLARS WITH A TEN GALLON LIMIT!!!!!
God get over yourself you fat old hag. Yes, I'm young and virile, but I'm not stupid! I watch the news! I listen in class! I'm in college!
Don't think that just because you can complain about the price of a Thanksgiving turkey that means that you are suddenly smarter than me?! I can complain about all kinds of things but that doesn't make me smarter than anyone else!!!!!
I can complain about YOU but I don't know anything about you! AND I DON'T CARE TO!
Be polite. Don't complain about my generation when you can't even keep from judging someone just because of a joke.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Fake PPL
Now I know I've already harped on this quite a bit but I can't stress enough JUST how stupid it is for people to use chatspeak in their daily lives.
What brought about this ridiculous bout of anger is a combination of two things... One: Economics professor stated in his information concerning our 10 PAGE RESEARCH PAPER (!!!) that we should use proper English... Should a college professor have to tell anyone that?
How stupid are you that you can't even write a freaking paper without using chatspeak?? It's a formal research paper!! The only thing you should be speaking in is FORMAL ENGLISH!
The second thing that annoyed me is this: I walked past a sign in my hallway that asked what we were glad to be leaving behind now that fall is finished... And someone wrote: ...fake ppl...
FAKE PPL?? WHAT DOES THAT STAND FOR? FAKE PORTLAND POWER AND LIGHT? HONESTLY LEARN HOW TO WRITE IN ENGLISH!!
YOU are a fake person! Only fake people don't know how to write in proper English! Only FAKE people write like retards!! I know that the education system sucks in the United States but COME ON!!
IT'S NOT THAT BAD!!
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
What brought about this ridiculous bout of anger is a combination of two things... One: Economics professor stated in his information concerning our 10 PAGE RESEARCH PAPER (!!!) that we should use proper English... Should a college professor have to tell anyone that?
How stupid are you that you can't even write a freaking paper without using chatspeak?? It's a formal research paper!! The only thing you should be speaking in is FORMAL ENGLISH!
The second thing that annoyed me is this: I walked past a sign in my hallway that asked what we were glad to be leaving behind now that fall is finished... And someone wrote: ...fake ppl...
FAKE PPL?? WHAT DOES THAT STAND FOR? FAKE PORTLAND POWER AND LIGHT? HONESTLY LEARN HOW TO WRITE IN ENGLISH!!
YOU are a fake person! Only fake people don't know how to write in proper English! Only FAKE people write like retards!! I know that the education system sucks in the United States but COME ON!!
IT'S NOT THAT BAD!!
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Sick People
I dislike being sick. I used to love being sick, in fact.
It meant I didn't have to go to school and I hated school until college.
Of course the only class I like that I'm currently in right now is my Crime Scene class. The rest of them seem completely pointless to me.
Becoming a doctor exposes me to sick people, and where there are sick people there are sicknesses... meaning that I will eventually get sick.
Hopefully not badly.
Anyways I'm sick right now.
Like the sniffly, sneezy kind of sick. The kind of sick that mucus loves.
Mucus.
My arch enemy. It and I never see eye to it.
It wants to drain out of every orifice of my body. It wants my eyes to water with pressure in my sinuses. It wants me to be miserable every time I shower by dripping all over me.
Mucus and I just aren't friends. If mucus and I met on the street our conversation would go like this:
Mucus: "Hey! What's hangin'?" Then he would laugh and chortle about his stupid, gross joke.
Me: "Go the heck away!" Then I would blow my nose and he would fly away.
That is how I feel.
It meant I didn't have to go to school and I hated school until college.
Of course the only class I like that I'm currently in right now is my Crime Scene class. The rest of them seem completely pointless to me.
Becoming a doctor exposes me to sick people, and where there are sick people there are sicknesses... meaning that I will eventually get sick.
Hopefully not badly.
Anyways I'm sick right now.
Like the sniffly, sneezy kind of sick. The kind of sick that mucus loves.
Mucus.
My arch enemy. It and I never see eye to it.
It wants to drain out of every orifice of my body. It wants my eyes to water with pressure in my sinuses. It wants me to be miserable every time I shower by dripping all over me.
Mucus and I just aren't friends. If mucus and I met on the street our conversation would go like this:
Mucus: "Hey! What's hangin'?" Then he would laugh and chortle about his stupid, gross joke.
Me: "Go the heck away!" Then I would blow my nose and he would fly away.
That is how I feel.
Monday, November 8, 2010
Les Miserable (Lay Miz-er-ab)
When you were in college there was always that one kid in your class that you hated more than anyone else.
Be they obnoxiously self satisfied, or just plain obnoxious, they got on your nerves.
That kid is also the kid that likes to interrupt the teacher in order to make a statement that has nothing to do with what you're talking about... it's usually an anecdotal analogy that will most likely start some kind of a back and forth conversation between the professor and this "intelligent person".
You always assume that these people are attempting to boost their self esteem because they are trying to make others look stupid.
It's usually these people, however, that make themselves look stupid, because they don't seem to understand that NO ONE CARES!
No one cares that your grandmother from Russia came to America and then went back and left all of the stuff behind.
No one cares that your uncle is from England.
NO ONE CARES THAT YOU ARE UNEDUCATED!
Unless your story has some tie in to the story, or helps qualify your statement, no one cares about them.
If I say "The conditions were rough in Vietnam." And someone asked me how I knew, I could say. "My dad is a Vietnam vet."
I would not go into some long winded round-about story.
You know those stories, right?
The ones where at the end of the story you wonder what they were talking about before the story started?
Yeah, those are the stories these people come out with.
Of course as I'm saying all this I start to realize that this is exactly what I am doing.
Once you get to the end of this post you will be wondering why you wasted your life reading it...
Maybe that's what I planned... :)
Be they obnoxiously self satisfied, or just plain obnoxious, they got on your nerves.
That kid is also the kid that likes to interrupt the teacher in order to make a statement that has nothing to do with what you're talking about... it's usually an anecdotal analogy that will most likely start some kind of a back and forth conversation between the professor and this "intelligent person".
You always assume that these people are attempting to boost their self esteem because they are trying to make others look stupid.
It's usually these people, however, that make themselves look stupid, because they don't seem to understand that NO ONE CARES!
No one cares that your grandmother from Russia came to America and then went back and left all of the stuff behind.
No one cares that your uncle is from England.
NO ONE CARES THAT YOU ARE UNEDUCATED!
Unless your story has some tie in to the story, or helps qualify your statement, no one cares about them.
If I say "The conditions were rough in Vietnam." And someone asked me how I knew, I could say. "My dad is a Vietnam vet."
I would not go into some long winded round-about story.
You know those stories, right?
The ones where at the end of the story you wonder what they were talking about before the story started?
Yeah, those are the stories these people come out with.
Of course as I'm saying all this I start to realize that this is exactly what I am doing.
Once you get to the end of this post you will be wondering why you wasted your life reading it...
Maybe that's what I planned... :)
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Motivation
Some people are self motivated.
I, on the other hand, am not motivated by anyone or anything. It's rather odd.
Sometimes I can sit down and do anything I need to, and sometimes I push whatever it is off so long it becomes a problem.
Like right now. I have absolutely no motivation to write this post. In fact I've been typing one word per 30 minutes since I woke up. I'm not exactly sure what is wrong with me today.
That first part I'm pretty sure I wrote at about 2 PM central time. I'm writing this at 8 PM central time, that shows you just how lazy I am. NO motivation whatsoever.
I had about 20 ideas written down for you guys today but I just can't even rant. I could rant about how much I dislike you all, but that would be mean. :)
So for now I have nothing. I'll try to get something written before I go to bed, I feel like you deserve something.
I, on the other hand, am not motivated by anyone or anything. It's rather odd.
Sometimes I can sit down and do anything I need to, and sometimes I push whatever it is off so long it becomes a problem.
Like right now. I have absolutely no motivation to write this post. In fact I've been typing one word per 30 minutes since I woke up. I'm not exactly sure what is wrong with me today.
That first part I'm pretty sure I wrote at about 2 PM central time. I'm writing this at 8 PM central time, that shows you just how lazy I am. NO motivation whatsoever.
I had about 20 ideas written down for you guys today but I just can't even rant. I could rant about how much I dislike you all, but that would be mean. :)
So for now I have nothing. I'll try to get something written before I go to bed, I feel like you deserve something.
Friday, November 5, 2010
Crazy Drivers and Yelling at Grandma
I drive. A lot.
It's ridiculous how much I drive, for example: in the past week I've driven to Kansas City Friday night, back to Columbia Monday morning, back to Kansas City Monday afternoon, back to Columbia Tuesday afternoon, back to Kansas City last night and back to Columbia this morning.
So I see a lot of crazy things.
I see people driving at 40 mph on I-70 and people getting pulled over by State Troopers left and right.
I've seen two hour long traffic back-ups, usually because of someone making a stupid decision, like texting while driving. I've also clocked 1:32 to get into Kansas City, which is the approximate time it takes to get from Columbia to Kansas City, barring slow drivers and road hazards.
This morning I was driving along and suddenly someone slammed on their brakes. This meant I had to slam on my brakes, I wasn't going to rear end this stupid human being, and immediately slap the hazard lights (that's what those blinky lights are called, if you don't know).
Of course the semi-truck that had been following behind me fairly closely nearly totaled my car. I could feel the adrenaline, I was scared that I was suddenly going to be crushed. Fortunately he swerved off into the other lane before he hit me, but there for a moment it looked like I was going to die.
Wouldn't that be sad, no more entertaining posts for all of you. :)
But my point is this: WHY DO THEY GIVE THESE PEOPLE DRIVERS LICENSES!?!?
Do they pay the officer? Because I couldn't get away with anything with my lady-cop that was riding with me. (I wanted to say something else, lady cops are really mean... if you're a nice lady cop please come talk to me, I'd like to meet you.)
But because they give these people licenses I am forced to sit in my car, fuming about how stupid people are.
Honestly.
If you're going to turn RIGHT turn your RIGHT signal on.
Oh? You don't know where your signal is?
YOU SEE THAT BLACK BAR ON THE LEFT SIDE OF YOUR STEERING WHEEL? THAT ROUND THING YOU HOLD ON TO IN ORDER TO MOVE YOUR CAR?! YES! THAT! IT'S CALLED A TURN SIGNAL! IF YOU PUSH IT UP THE RIGHT LIGHT COMES ON! IF YOU PUSH IT DOWN THE LEFT ONE DOES!
USE IT!
I shouldn't have to tense up every time I see your brake lights come on. I have this intense fear the idiots around me are going to turn or stop or do something else equally stupid.
I don't mind people that speed. Really I don't, at least I know they won't stop suddenly. They're trying to get somewhere. And REALLY trying to GET somewhere!
However, there is one group of drivers I refuse to let myself become upset over.
These are seniors. There is something wrong with shouting obscenities at a senior citizen.
Teenagers? Fine. Young adults? OK. Adults? Yeah.
Seniors? I don't think I'd like someone shouting at my grandmother. Even if she did drive at 15 miles per hour in a 35. I mean honestly, you'd be mad at someone shouting at your parent... but your grandma? She's 92 with a handicapped sticker! You must want to be taken off of Santa's nice list!
I'm pretty sure shouting at old people should be outlawed.
It's ridiculous how much I drive, for example: in the past week I've driven to Kansas City Friday night, back to Columbia Monday morning, back to Kansas City Monday afternoon, back to Columbia Tuesday afternoon, back to Kansas City last night and back to Columbia this morning.
So I see a lot of crazy things.
I see people driving at 40 mph on I-70 and people getting pulled over by State Troopers left and right.
I've seen two hour long traffic back-ups, usually because of someone making a stupid decision, like texting while driving. I've also clocked 1:32 to get into Kansas City, which is the approximate time it takes to get from Columbia to Kansas City, barring slow drivers and road hazards.
This morning I was driving along and suddenly someone slammed on their brakes. This meant I had to slam on my brakes, I wasn't going to rear end this stupid human being, and immediately slap the hazard lights (that's what those blinky lights are called, if you don't know).
Of course the semi-truck that had been following behind me fairly closely nearly totaled my car. I could feel the adrenaline, I was scared that I was suddenly going to be crushed. Fortunately he swerved off into the other lane before he hit me, but there for a moment it looked like I was going to die.
Wouldn't that be sad, no more entertaining posts for all of you. :)
But my point is this: WHY DO THEY GIVE THESE PEOPLE DRIVERS LICENSES!?!?
Do they pay the officer? Because I couldn't get away with anything with my lady-cop that was riding with me. (I wanted to say something else, lady cops are really mean... if you're a nice lady cop please come talk to me, I'd like to meet you.)
But because they give these people licenses I am forced to sit in my car, fuming about how stupid people are.
Honestly.
If you're going to turn RIGHT turn your RIGHT signal on.
Oh? You don't know where your signal is?
YOU SEE THAT BLACK BAR ON THE LEFT SIDE OF YOUR STEERING WHEEL? THAT ROUND THING YOU HOLD ON TO IN ORDER TO MOVE YOUR CAR?! YES! THAT! IT'S CALLED A TURN SIGNAL! IF YOU PUSH IT UP THE RIGHT LIGHT COMES ON! IF YOU PUSH IT DOWN THE LEFT ONE DOES!
USE IT!
I shouldn't have to tense up every time I see your brake lights come on. I have this intense fear the idiots around me are going to turn or stop or do something else equally stupid.
I don't mind people that speed. Really I don't, at least I know they won't stop suddenly. They're trying to get somewhere. And REALLY trying to GET somewhere!
However, there is one group of drivers I refuse to let myself become upset over.
These are seniors. There is something wrong with shouting obscenities at a senior citizen.
Teenagers? Fine. Young adults? OK. Adults? Yeah.
Seniors? I don't think I'd like someone shouting at my grandmother. Even if she did drive at 15 miles per hour in a 35. I mean honestly, you'd be mad at someone shouting at your parent... but your grandma? She's 92 with a handicapped sticker! You must want to be taken off of Santa's nice list!
I'm pretty sure shouting at old people should be outlawed.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Cheetos and the Giant Chair
I love Cheeto Puffs.
It is an irrefutable fact that Cheeto Puffs are the greatest junk food of all time. It doesn't matter if you're a Cheeto junkie or just a bored college student with a love of cheese, they are always wonderful.
Me? I like to lick off the cheesy stuff before I eat them. I don't know why, apparently I just like to destroy my taste buds.
What brings this to my attention is that I have a giant bag of these delectable objects next to me on my giant chair.
There is some dispute over the possessor of the giant chair in my house. My father seems to think it is his. But much like a cat, I own everything secretly and he just doesn't know it.
My father is a reasonably predictable man. He likes order (obsessively) and cleanliness (at least HE flushes the toilet) and he likes to watch the news for two hours from 5-7 PM. Every day.
Which means that I get the massive chair until he sits down for 5 hours to watch the news and/or Westerns.
Of course he's also predictable in the fact that he gets up from said massive chair from time to time... in which time I leap up from my place on the big green couch and throw myself into the warm spot he left behind.
This is the point that he and I begin to have problems. I will fold myself up happily in the spot to watch the news... and he will return from whatever he was doing. This usually results in the following conversation:
Dad: "You're in my chair."
Me: "Yes I am."
Dad: "Get up."
Me: "But I'm sitting in it."
Dad: "I don't care, I want to sit in it. It's my chair." *rattles glass of ice*
Me: "But I don't want to get up."
Dad: "Get. Up."
Me: "But daaaaad~"
Dad: "Up!"
And then I will be forcefully ejected from my giant chair, only because Dad is much bigger and stronger than me... and I assume that if I don't give him my seat he will sit on me... which he has done before when I refused to get up.
It hurt.
He's heavy.
Now I'm sitting in MY chair with a bag of Cheetos. I'm not allowed to have candy or soda anymore. Not that this stops me very often from eating candy but I certainly have tapered off of soda. So I have been forced into junk food. Cheetos, Lays, Fritos, Doritos... and Easy Mac.
Which may not actually be junk food. Easy Mac is the staple food for a college student, isn't it?
It is an irrefutable fact that Cheeto Puffs are the greatest junk food of all time. It doesn't matter if you're a Cheeto junkie or just a bored college student with a love of cheese, they are always wonderful.
Me? I like to lick off the cheesy stuff before I eat them. I don't know why, apparently I just like to destroy my taste buds.
What brings this to my attention is that I have a giant bag of these delectable objects next to me on my giant chair.
There is some dispute over the possessor of the giant chair in my house. My father seems to think it is his. But much like a cat, I own everything secretly and he just doesn't know it.
My father is a reasonably predictable man. He likes order (obsessively) and cleanliness (at least HE flushes the toilet) and he likes to watch the news for two hours from 5-7 PM. Every day.
Which means that I get the massive chair until he sits down for 5 hours to watch the news and/or Westerns.
Of course he's also predictable in the fact that he gets up from said massive chair from time to time... in which time I leap up from my place on the big green couch and throw myself into the warm spot he left behind.
This is the point that he and I begin to have problems. I will fold myself up happily in the spot to watch the news... and he will return from whatever he was doing. This usually results in the following conversation:
Dad: "You're in my chair."
Me: "Yes I am."
Dad: "Get up."
Me: "But I'm sitting in it."
Dad: "I don't care, I want to sit in it. It's my chair." *rattles glass of ice*
Me: "But I don't want to get up."
Dad: "Get. Up."
Me: "But daaaaad~"
Dad: "Up!"
And then I will be forcefully ejected from my giant chair, only because Dad is much bigger and stronger than me... and I assume that if I don't give him my seat he will sit on me... which he has done before when I refused to get up.
It hurt.
He's heavy.
Now I'm sitting in MY chair with a bag of Cheetos. I'm not allowed to have candy or soda anymore. Not that this stops me very often from eating candy but I certainly have tapered off of soda. So I have been forced into junk food. Cheetos, Lays, Fritos, Doritos... and Easy Mac.
Which may not actually be junk food. Easy Mac is the staple food for a college student, isn't it?
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Bathroom Rules
Dear College Students,
Assuming that you attend this school you are most likely female, and above the age of 16. So my question to you is this: why is it that you STILL don't know how to use the TOILET!?
Did you live in a barn? Maybe your tiny boondocks house had and outhouse instead of running water? Because otherwise this is inexcusable!
When I hop into the community bathroom I expect some cleanliness... I don't expect to see the remnants of your bodily functions in the TOILET BOWL!
Do you SEE that big shiny bar? See it? SEE IT!? When you push down on it the water in the bowl goes WHOOSH and all that yucky stuff goes away!!
Imagine that!
If someone took the time to create such a simple waste disposal system one would think that you would be able to handle it, but obviously that is overestimating your abilities.
Now, we need to come to an accord, barn dweller.
I would like you to flush your poo down the toilet. That is what the shiny porcelain thing is there for! To flush that business! Not to leave it sitting in there for someone else to find!
It may be getting close to Christmas, barn dweller, but this is the wrong kind of present!
So I am setting some ground rules:
1. You will flush the toilet. (Instructions to follow.)
2. You will check to make sure everything has gone down.
3. You will wash your hands. Since if you can't even flush the toilet I'm sure your hands must be filthy.
If you cannot follow these simple rules then I will have to revoke your toilet rights and relegate you to a litter box.
Thank you,
Morgan
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Assuming that you attend this school you are most likely female, and above the age of 16. So my question to you is this: why is it that you STILL don't know how to use the TOILET!?
Did you live in a barn? Maybe your tiny boondocks house had and outhouse instead of running water? Because otherwise this is inexcusable!
When I hop into the community bathroom I expect some cleanliness... I don't expect to see the remnants of your bodily functions in the TOILET BOWL!
Do you SEE that big shiny bar? See it? SEE IT!? When you push down on it the water in the bowl goes WHOOSH and all that yucky stuff goes away!!
Imagine that!
If someone took the time to create such a simple waste disposal system one would think that you would be able to handle it, but obviously that is overestimating your abilities.
Now, we need to come to an accord, barn dweller.
I would like you to flush your poo down the toilet. That is what the shiny porcelain thing is there for! To flush that business! Not to leave it sitting in there for someone else to find!
It may be getting close to Christmas, barn dweller, but this is the wrong kind of present!
So I am setting some ground rules:
1. You will flush the toilet. (Instructions to follow.)
2. You will check to make sure everything has gone down.
3. You will wash your hands. Since if you can't even flush the toilet I'm sure your hands must be filthy.
If you cannot follow these simple rules then I will have to revoke your toilet rights and relegate you to a litter box.
Thank you,
Morgan
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Sororities and Harry Potter
Harry Potter is coming out soon. If you haven't already figured this out: I'm a huge nerd, and Harry Potter is probably my favorite thing in the entire world.
In fact if I could make an entire blog about Harry Potter I totally would, but I feel it would become a little redundant after a while.
Anyways so my goal for the next two and a half weeks is this:
Re-read all seven Harry Potter books and watch all 6 movies.
Considering how much free time I have, this won't be hard.
Except here is the problem: I would rather do these things than do homework. :) I wish Harry was here so he could just magic my homework done. (Not that they could do that in the HP universe, it's just a nice dream.)
This strangely leads me into my next point of interest. I am going to spend tomorrow night with a sorority in Kansas City who I may be recruited for.
Now if you know me, you know that I have wanted to be in a sorority more than anything else in the entire world. I just love the idea of sisterhood and having a huge family and lots of friends. For some reason I've just never had those things.
Plus I feel like sororities can actually give you a step up. Some pretty famous and powerful people were in fraternities and sororities.
I'm hoping going to UMKC will be a whole new beginning for me. I keep looking for new beginnings and I've never yet had a fresh one. This one feels like it will be. I'll be in classes with people I don't know, on a campus I don't know... it will be completely different from Stephens. I'll have anonymity and I'll be able to be myself with such a variety of people.
I feel like this school is trying to smother everything individual about me.
I'm crazy, I like to play video games, I like to read Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings. My favorite book is The Hobbit and I play Kingdom Hearts II on a regular basis. I like to watch football and baseball and I tend to scream at umps and refs that make bad calls.
And for some reason... all those things make me a weird person here.
So you can't like fashion AND video games? I can't know the rules of football AND shop on Modcloth?
Who says?
In fact if I could make an entire blog about Harry Potter I totally would, but I feel it would become a little redundant after a while.
Anyways so my goal for the next two and a half weeks is this:
Re-read all seven Harry Potter books and watch all 6 movies.
Considering how much free time I have, this won't be hard.
Except here is the problem: I would rather do these things than do homework. :) I wish Harry was here so he could just magic my homework done. (Not that they could do that in the HP universe, it's just a nice dream.)
This strangely leads me into my next point of interest. I am going to spend tomorrow night with a sorority in Kansas City who I may be recruited for.
Now if you know me, you know that I have wanted to be in a sorority more than anything else in the entire world. I just love the idea of sisterhood and having a huge family and lots of friends. For some reason I've just never had those things.
Plus I feel like sororities can actually give you a step up. Some pretty famous and powerful people were in fraternities and sororities.
I'm hoping going to UMKC will be a whole new beginning for me. I keep looking for new beginnings and I've never yet had a fresh one. This one feels like it will be. I'll be in classes with people I don't know, on a campus I don't know... it will be completely different from Stephens. I'll have anonymity and I'll be able to be myself with such a variety of people.
I feel like this school is trying to smother everything individual about me.
I'm crazy, I like to play video games, I like to read Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings. My favorite book is The Hobbit and I play Kingdom Hearts II on a regular basis. I like to watch football and baseball and I tend to scream at umps and refs that make bad calls.
And for some reason... all those things make me a weird person here.
So you can't like fashion AND video games? I can't know the rules of football AND shop on Modcloth?
Who says?
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Christmas, Driving and Voting (Not at the same time.)
First. Happy November! I didn't say it yesterday but today I decided to. Do you know what this means? This means that IT'S THAT MUCH CLOSER TO CHRISTMAS!
We are currently only separated from Christmas by one nationally recognized holiday.
(Not discounting Ramadan or Hanukkah. It's just that if I count them then I will be sad, because that's too many holidays! So for you, other world religions, you also only have one nationally recognized holiday before your holiday too... you see we get Christmas Break, not breaks for the other ones because as of 2000, 78.5% of the United States is Christian, and then there are a lot more who celebrate Christmas who are agnostic or atheist because it's a Hallmark holiday as well.)
Okay now that was a rant! Anyways, so one national holiday. Christmastime is my favorite time of year. I know it's silly to be talking about it now! But my Christmas spirit picks up once it gets to October. :) You don't understand how much I love Christmas.
It's the time of year where I spend the most time with my father. Who is the only family member I ever have around.
This is what Christmas means to me:
Christmas = decorating Christmas trees, getting presents, being with my dad, Christmas traditions like The Nutcracker and A Christmas Carol, National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation, Donovan's Reef and many more...
All that, plus the birth (celebration of the birth anyways, he was born in the summer) of my Savior! Wow! That's one awesome holiday for me!
Of course it also means that my bestie bestest best best friend will be here (hopefully). :))))
I started thinking about all this when I was driving to Columbia today after voting. (I'm registered to vote in Kansas City still so I had to made the trek back!) I hate driving back, it's so long, but thinking about how close we are to Christmas just made it worth it.
I'm transferring at the end of this semester.
It hurts my heart to think that I'll be leaving this place. I love it here. But I think that it will be better for me in the end to transfer.
I don't have many friends here. And while having one good friend is better than having a bunch of shallow friends... I feel like I've gone back to high school, everyone is catty and horrible to each other... and I'm not like that.
Anyways, I was driving back Monday morning (I've made two trips to KC in the past 48 hours) and I saw a deer on the side of the road.
I watch him and he watched me, it was like a stare down and the only thing I could do was scream:
NO BAMBI NO! DON'T RUN OUT INTO THE ROAAAD!!
That's my story for the day.
We are currently only separated from Christmas by one nationally recognized holiday.
(Not discounting Ramadan or Hanukkah. It's just that if I count them then I will be sad, because that's too many holidays! So for you, other world religions, you also only have one nationally recognized holiday before your holiday too... you see we get Christmas Break, not breaks for the other ones because as of 2000, 78.5% of the United States is Christian, and then there are a lot more who celebrate Christmas who are agnostic or atheist because it's a Hallmark holiday as well.)
Okay now that was a rant! Anyways, so one national holiday. Christmastime is my favorite time of year. I know it's silly to be talking about it now! But my Christmas spirit picks up once it gets to October. :) You don't understand how much I love Christmas.
It's the time of year where I spend the most time with my father. Who is the only family member I ever have around.
This is what Christmas means to me:
Christmas = decorating Christmas trees, getting presents, being with my dad, Christmas traditions like The Nutcracker and A Christmas Carol, National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation, Donovan's Reef and many more...
All that, plus the birth (celebration of the birth anyways, he was born in the summer) of my Savior! Wow! That's one awesome holiday for me!
Of course it also means that my bestie bestest best best friend will be here (hopefully). :))))
I started thinking about all this when I was driving to Columbia today after voting. (I'm registered to vote in Kansas City still so I had to made the trek back!) I hate driving back, it's so long, but thinking about how close we are to Christmas just made it worth it.
I'm transferring at the end of this semester.
It hurts my heart to think that I'll be leaving this place. I love it here. But I think that it will be better for me in the end to transfer.
I don't have many friends here. And while having one good friend is better than having a bunch of shallow friends... I feel like I've gone back to high school, everyone is catty and horrible to each other... and I'm not like that.
Anyways, I was driving back Monday morning (I've made two trips to KC in the past 48 hours) and I saw a deer on the side of the road.
I watch him and he watched me, it was like a stare down and the only thing I could do was scream:
NO BAMBI NO! DON'T RUN OUT INTO THE ROAAAD!!
That's my story for the day.
Monday, November 1, 2010
SQUIRRELS!
I have always wondered why they put a giant wall of windows in classrooms.
I have ADHD. Giving me an open window with trees and grass and squirrels is a terrible idea, you expect me to choose which is more interesting to look at?
You, professor, or SQUIRRELS?
I think you know who would win.
Squirrels demand more of my attention. I have to focus in order to watch them coil their tiny bodies to jump onto the tree in the foreground of my sight. I need to pay attention in order to have a staring match with it as he clings to the side of the tree, moving his jaw back and forth like a rabbit with palsy.
You, on the other hand, stand in the same place and drone about fiction.
I know all about fiction. I read it... all the time...
Of course at least I can look at squirrels and other interesting furry creatures in your class, fiction teacher.
You are far better than economics teacher that prefers to stand at the bottom of a little, dark auditorium and talk.
HE TALKS.
I know this seems normal, oh, professors talk all the time.
But when you talk for 50 minutes straight in a dark, warm room... most likely I'm going to sleep. Because those are the conditions to make me sleep.
Do you honestly think anyone pays attention in your class?
Hmm?
Oh you're asking a question? We're all shopping online for shoes or a new coat or maybe a new way to remove you from your position as economics professor.
Me?
I spend all 50 minutes either sleeping or posting on this blog. Sometimes I even catch up on the sleep that you deprive me from when I have to teach myself what you fail to.
I have ADHD. Giving me an open window with trees and grass and squirrels is a terrible idea, you expect me to choose which is more interesting to look at?
You, professor, or SQUIRRELS?
I think you know who would win.
Squirrels demand more of my attention. I have to focus in order to watch them coil their tiny bodies to jump onto the tree in the foreground of my sight. I need to pay attention in order to have a staring match with it as he clings to the side of the tree, moving his jaw back and forth like a rabbit with palsy.
You, on the other hand, stand in the same place and drone about fiction.
I know all about fiction. I read it... all the time...
Of course at least I can look at squirrels and other interesting furry creatures in your class, fiction teacher.
You are far better than economics teacher that prefers to stand at the bottom of a little, dark auditorium and talk.
HE TALKS.
I know this seems normal, oh, professors talk all the time.
But when you talk for 50 minutes straight in a dark, warm room... most likely I'm going to sleep. Because those are the conditions to make me sleep.
Do you honestly think anyone pays attention in your class?
Hmm?
Oh you're asking a question? We're all shopping online for shoes or a new coat or maybe a new way to remove you from your position as economics professor.
Me?
I spend all 50 minutes either sleeping or posting on this blog. Sometimes I even catch up on the sleep that you deprive me from when I have to teach myself what you fail to.
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