It's 10:00pm and...

I'm going to bed.

Happy New Years, everyone!

Goodnight!

So while contemplating life with the aid of a bottle and a half of cheap wine...

So while contemplating life with the aid of a bottle and a half of cheap wine...

I have had some interesting epiphanies:

Number 1. And probably the most important! The Hills is by far, hands down, better than The City. I'm sorry, I love Whitney but I just think she is better as a sounding board for Lauren's life rather than a stand alone main character. I don't think The City will be able to fully achieve that magic that The Hills has. That said. I like the character Olivia, who I think they are trying to portray as a bitch. She seems like the most real of all these super-rich babes and I love the black, belted dress she made her first appearance in. Hmm... Oh, and Jay is a cute douche bag.

Secondly. As much as I hate to admit it because I love the X-Men more than any other superhero assembly and/or solo character... Robert Downy Jr. played a better Tony Stark than Hugh Jackman's Wolverine. Jackman was awesome and definitely captured the version of Wolverine that they were going for but Downy Jr. NAILED Stark and could easily play all versions of Tony Stark from the classic, to the drunk burn out, all the way to Civil War Stark. Downy Jr. wins.

Third. I need to remember to get up early tomorrow (not gonna happen with all the wine you've had tonight sister!) so I have time to shave my legs and paint my toes.

Finally. Last and least. He'll be back. I'm a great girl dammit! I'm rising stocks here people!... Right? I give it a week until he's got his ego back in check and he'll come back and want to work things out. I wish I could say I'll give him the boot and kick his ass to the curb but I know I won't. As long as he still has his heart in the right place I know I'll end up being SUCH A SUCKER and taking him back. To. Make. Him. Suffer. Hey, Valentine's Day is coming up after all...

Oh! Oh! Wait! One more. And I changed my mind. This might be the most important. So I painted my room this great goldeny-sunny-yellow and got a new lighting fixture that is very old-school chandelere looking. I also bought new pictures of red flowers in different vases and/or scattered on floors and tables for my room and bathroom (of matching color) with heavy antiqued gold frames. I need a new bed spread to go with them. I've searched all the standard department stores, catalogs, and Bed Bath & Beyond type stores and found NOTHING. Anyone have any other ideas for places to look?

There must be something in the air here that makes people suck.

Breakups are over-rated anyway but become especially painful when
1. You can't give me a reason why
2. You say it's my fault
and 3. I wasn't through... I still love you.

I feel so adult (and alone) because unlike my breakups in high school or early college years, I don't find myself calling my best friend and being pissed or texting him over and over again begging to "fix it with me."

Instead I'm blogging (nerd).
Just kidding.

Instead I called my Mommy and cried. I understand now what they mean when they say you get along better with your parents as you get older. Five years ago I would have been slamming my door and screaming that "I'm never coming out again and I hate my life so go away Mom!" Now, my mom is the only person I want to talk to and the only one I know who will listen to me just because I need to talk. She genuinely hurts right along with me because she hates hearing her "little girl's heart break." Which only goes on to make me cry more.

Thank you Mommy. You're just what I needed right now, even if nothing is really fixed.

Next. Since I'm having a crappy night anyway I'm just gonna get it all off my chest...

Bitch in my office who's name starts with a C!
You know who you are...
Or don't because I'm waaay to polite and laid back in person to tell you what a bigot you are.
It is absolutely absurd to say that a woman can be genuinely bisexual but that a man cannot. You're clearing feeding off our culture's opinion that girl-on-girl is hot while guy-on-guy is faggy.
(If you ask me though, I think you've got some well justified insecurities about where your current fuck-buddy's interests really lay.)
It's hypocritical to say it's ok for a female to be attracted to their same sex but not for a male to be so. It's an unfair double standard and I CANNOT BELIEVE I wasted twenty five whole minutes of my precious time trying to make you see the exclusive bias your thinking presented and why it isn't right.
I completely wasted all the effort some poor tree in the African rain forest put forth creating oxygen today ON YOU!
Ugh. I'm so disappointed, I expect more from myself.
But at least now I know not to expect much more from you.

Thank you for listening (Nessa :) ) I appreciate it.

Merry Christmas. I'm aaall alone.

It's 4:04pm on Christmas Eve. I've been awarded the privilege of being the ONLY person left in the ENTIRE courthouse so that everyone else could go home early and start celebrating. If anyone has any entertaining YouTube videos and/or crossword puzzles they would like to share with me I would greatly appreciate it.

Finals...

Holy God.
I can't even think right now, I don't even smoke and I'd kill for a ciggarette.
I have three finals starting at 8am tomorrow and last night I had a dream that Soren Kierkegaard and Plato were chasing me.
My brain is so fried that my computer screen is bending like a funhouse mirror.
Welcome to college.
And they wonder why students get addicted to adderalll and trucker crack.

So as if I'm not non-existant enough as it is...

I just found out that the Art Fair isn't something where I just drop off a few pieces and call it good. I have to have my own entire booth, meaning I'll be logging on here only to check out Captain and Chondra's blogs and then it's back to the grind. Every spare minute will be spent either preparing to fail my finals or stringing up anything in my line of sight that even looks like a bead. See you sometime after December 5th.

Who do I have to sleep with to get some hits around here?!

Sloooowly but surely the counter on my blog/profile is going up. At least I know SOMEONE, SOMEWHERE, ONCE IN A WHILE reads my little blog. I'm positive it's all my little sister, who is currently on the phone ragging me about my blog being

"Boring! So that's why no one reads that shit, Aury. Write about something interesting."
"Okay, like what?"
"Idk! You're a loser, I can't help that: I was just making a suggestion."

Yes. She SAID "Idk," and I'm the loser.
Was that interesting enough, my lovely little sister?

Election Day

Today is November 4th, 2008: a day that may mark "one of the most significant elections in American history."

And do you know what that means for me?

It means I don't get to buy my morning scratch-it on my coffee run before school. :(

Let's keep this short and sweet

I'm never going to be able to keep up with this damn blog. Too much work, too much school, too much boyfriend, not enough wine. Just to add another reason to why I'm not posting, a girl from one of my classes asked me to make a few pieces of jewelry for the art fair that benefits the art major club. Apparently quite a few people have told her that I make my own stuff and it's "waaaay sooo super cute." I'm almost insulted because my shits not cute! It's classique!... What? It is... So I'll be busy with that this week... Stressing about the risk of exposure and humiliation if everyone doesn't think my jewelry is "super cute." And! Last but not least! I'm so tired of this election. Every election that I can remember (which is only two, so give me a break) I hear people expressing their irritation with the campaigning before the campaigning really begins so I guess I'm not so different. I did, however, have my mother's crazy ass mother YELL at me for TWENTY FIVE MINUTES because Barack Obama is a socialist who wants to take all the money of the hard working middle class and give it to the lazy, husbandless mothers sucking up welfare "and Aura you're starting to sound just like him!"

Chiiill out! And don't take that tone of voice with me, woman!

Obama For King!

Sibling Jealousy

Today I'd like to vent about/praise my little sister. She is by far the coolest child I've ever met. She would also like everyone reading this to know that "she is 14 and NOT a child! So stop saying that Aury!" Whatever. I'm crazy jealous that the kid has long, wavy, golden blond hair; while I have long, stick straight, ashy locks. She is also one of those stupid people with naturally thick, black, curled eye lashes. That's the clincher too! Lemme tell ya! I fight with two kinds of mascara and a heated eyelash curler every morning but my eyes still don't pop like hers... Finally, the damn kid is a freshman in high school and has bigger *ahem* than me! Can I just say that this isn't fair?!

But enough bitching about looks. What I'm really here to whine about is artistic ability (or lack thereof). I've always wanted to be an artist: drawing, painting, sculpting, whatever. Unfortunately, I'm not. Don't get me wrong! I'm a whiz with a camera, dark room, and photo shop, but if you ask me to actually materialize something from my own hands, it just won't happen. C, on the other hand, does all of the above! She has had since, like, age 3 incredible spacial reasoning so her realistic drawing skills are unbelievable. The versatile little snot also happens to apply this skill to inking and painting... I was never even good at paint by numbers... Lastly, growing up she never played with blocks or dolls or anything but was always toying with Play Dough. Now that's translated itself into being amazing with clay and a pottery wheel. Thus, needless to say she is 14 and at the head of her school's art program (I, btw, got a sympathy B+ from the same teacher that gave her her own display kiosk at the last art show).

But I'm not bitter... What? I'm not. And, thankfully we've both got a sense of humor about the whole envy thing because I'm sitting here looking at my "Awesome Big Sister Day" (new holiday, starting now, spread the word) present which includes: Crayons, an X-Men coloring book, a deluxe, Prang, hard lead pencil set, and a "Learn to Draw Dragons, Princesses, and Wizards" book for ages 6-15.

Don't laugh! I'm actually quite excited...

Edit Pessimism

Okay, so I was wrong about the bombing of the history paper. Guess who got a 92%? Me! Good guess. Yay.

102% Later

Quick update because I'm late for History class. The good news is that I'm not dead and somehow finished my midterms. The bad news is I've got four+ more years of this marathon to run. More good news, I got 102% on the philosophy test, a B+ on my english paper, and an A on the History paper. I'll have to continue biting my nails until I find out what I got on the women's studies research paper and midterm and I'm about to go find out how badly I bombed that history test. And don't tell me to be optimistic: I BOMBED that test.
Meanwhile. Reality TV has reach an all new low. Contestants are no longer just going at each other's throats for six digits in cash or "a chance to be America's Next Top Model." The prize of prizes, the holy grail of trashy television has now become the goal of being Paris Hilton's New BFF. I'm so jealous.

Shameless

So in my week long blitz of homework, papers, and tests I managed to catch the meanest case of the flu EVER. Thus I played hookie from school today (again. Good God you people must think I, like, never leave my house and my job/classes are imaginary, huh?) and will be doing the same with work tomorrow.

Please let me just say that I am unashamed that I still bitch like a kid about taking cough syrup: that sh*t is nasty and doesn't help. They make it so disgusting intentionally so that children will be forced into acting better or having a spoonful of poison crammed down their throats...

Secondly. I don't care how crappy you thought Laguna Beach was or how annoying you found Kristen Whateverhernameis. The Hills is awesome. I can't get enough of these cute little girls making horrible guy decisions while attempting not to crash and burn in the backstage fashion industry. And I love Lauren's clothes. Note: I would never pay for seasons 1-3 in a box set but I'm fully willing to make some poor hack in Netflix's mail room send them to me day after day along with other such shameful shows like One Tree Hill...

/shrug.

I'm going to bed. Night kids.

Ugh.

I'm exhausted.

Okay, no, this time I have an excuse.

So yesterday was one of those days for me: I woke up to cold cloudy skies (which I love, mind you), decided to wear a sweater, and was baking like a cookie by 10am because the damn southern sun doesn't know what the Hell it wants to do. While I'm hauling ass out the door for school I spill my tea and have to change shirts, which causes me to forget my planner: a mistake that will later be the cause of a near-mental breakdown in LA 102.

Two seconds in the car and I smack the shit out of my passenger side mirror while backing out of the garage. The mirror snapped completely off... AGAIN. Yes, that is the second time I made the exact same mistake, in the exact same spot, on the exact same mirror, at the exact same time of day. WTF?!

Anyway, I tough it up and zip off in my poor little lopsided Focus that now reminds me of a poor little lopsided Nemo fish... Z is on the phone listening to my sniffles and giving me all the general boyfriend comforts needed to help me survive such a bad morning. Not the least of which included promising to "order the new mirror and fix it this weekend so that you won't crash into anything else Aura..."

Gee. Thanks, Honey.

Once I finally make it to class, I find out that the paper I busted my ass to get done has been moved back another week because some cry-baby first year complained to the teacher about having too much homework from her class load. *tear*

Look, you n00b freshman! That's not how it's done, alright?! If you slack off or can't hack it, you don't whine to the teacher and ask for an extension! You suck it up, go buy a case of Red Bull, lock yourself in your room, and don't plan on sleeping for the next 24 hours until you finish!

I eventually make it through my day after the only positive of my english teacher using my essay as the example of what a perfect paper should look like (go me!) and multiple negatives, including but not limited to; my history teacher adding another chapter to the test I'm not ready for; stubbing my toe; and having my favorite color lipstick melt in my car.

Thus. My day sucked. In order to counter the suckiness of yesterday and prep for that history test, I'm going to take Chondra's advice: stay home today and avoid doing anything even mildly dangerous.

Hope you all have a better Wednesday than my Tuesday!

No excuse. /Shrug.

"Success supposes endeavor."
-Jane Austen


On that note. I've been referencing how often I've been neglecting my studies and it's finally caught up with me. This week I have two essays and one research paper due, and one World Civilizations test I haven't studied for. I'm not looking for sympathy (unless you want to give me some :) ) I'm more so just sharing my exasperated sigh with BlogSpot as I sulk off to go bury myself in text books. I'll see you Thursday... If I survive.

It's the little things like grey mornings and teal blouses...

So, since moving to the south I've had the pleasure of being blinded by the sun EVERY SINGLE MORNING. Now, I know most of you are thinking "so what? Grinch." Here's the thing: I grew up in Portland, Oregon. We're known for our rain and what some would call gloomy weather. But, when you've learned to look at life against a grey and green backdrop, you appreciate the darker side of things.

Overcast and clouded skies give me the serene feeling of being home and in place, even when I'm 3k miles away from anything comfortable. I was thrilled this morning and had a lovely drive to work due to the grey cloud cover and cold rain drizzling on my wind shield. I almost had to turn my heater on (something I think I might have done once since moving to South Carolina) but I refrained because I was enjoying shivering.

Aside from the dark weather brightening my morning, the boyfriend also scored some major brownie points. In fact, I think I might actually have to make him cookies, brownies, or some other sort of confection to reward him for the trick. I did a weeks worth of laundry last night, a day ahead of schedule: you see, I try to do all my laundry either Friday or Sunday night so that I don't get confused about what I've already worn this week. Since this has been an especially hectic week, I'm absolutely clueless as to what has been covering my body for the past six days.

While attempting to dress myself I decided to go basic: jeans, black shirt, Candies, finished. Then panic hits: I vaguely remembering wearing a black t-shirt at some point but that might have just been to run out to the mail box in. Oh my God! What if I wear the same thing Friday that I did Monday?! How horribly, unforgivably unfashionable!

Hey, back the Hell off okay?! I already told you I was having a bad week: I might have been blowing some things a little out of proportion...

So I snatch up the phone and call my trusty sidekick... And begin freaking out because I'm already late to work and still half naked! "Chill out," Z says. "Monday you wore dark jeans and a teal shirt; Tuesday it was a white button up shirt with khakis; Wednesday you wore a hoodie; and yesterday didn't you wear that little white Coheed jacket?" Oh he's right! I'm touched! He, despite seeing me for like three seconds each day this week, remembered everything I wore.

And don't you dare even say "that's lame" because I will jump through this computer screen and lecture you on exactly why that is NOT lame! It's not that he memorizes my every move (even though it feels that way when he quotes me VERBATIM during our fights) but I adore the fact that he pays attention to detail. He's just the kind of person that will hear it once and remember my favorite food, color, pair of shoes, etc. Forgive me if I'm impressed with things that should be basic between couples but I am new at this relationship thing. I had boyfriends in high school and my first year-ish out of school but after a while I just gave up dating because 1. They bored me. And 2. At the time both I and the guys I was with were just too self centered (not that that's a bad thing for the time) to really have a give and take relationship. It was more of a "take until nothing is left and move on" relationship.

Anyway I'm rambling and this blog is getting much longer than I planned. So. Your homework for the day is to go out and enjoy the sky no matter what color it is: I guarantee that in some way, shape, or form it's beautiful and something you can appreciate. Also, if you have a man/woman/husband/wife/puppy/whatever, just pick someone affectionate towards you and thank them for it. So often we ignore the little things our loved ones give us that really mean the most... And! Make sure you know their favorite color!

Okay... Fast forward to four hours later...

After a lovely work out, shower, nap, lunch, chat with Grammy, and a fight with my Dr.'s office...

I'm just now throwing my hair into a pony, smearing on a little powder and mascara, snatchin' my favorite hoodie, and taking off to cram a day's worth of studying into three hours...

I can do it.

Btw. If anyone was wondering what I plan to do by the time I turn twenty-eight... I'm fairly certain I'll still be in school. No, not because I slack off so much that it will take me that long to finish, though that is a valid concern... But rather, because my goal is to be an Anthropologist (http://www.aaanet.org/about/WhatisAnthropology.cfm) and eventually settle into teaching at a university. PhDs take a while to score so I'll be doing the student thing for a while, to say the least...

Anyway, shut up and quit distracting me, I've gotta run!

Peace loves, have a productive afternoon (since I'm not).

Ps.
Can anyone tell me how to make a word my link?

I'm playing hookie from work today!

Yesterday my history teacher, in his normal cheery mood, says to my class,

"By age twenty, Alexander had dedicated himself to battle and conquest; by age twenty-eight, he ruled over most of the known world... What are you going to do by age twenty-eight? Get a job and pay taxes?"

I think I was the only person who found that funny... The ladies in my World Civilizations class really need to relax! So, in my effort not to become as uptight as those bitches, I'm skipping work today.

I've procrastinated myself into a corner on a research paper due next Thursday with an outline and works cited due tomorrow, and another compare/contrast paper due next week, rough draft due tomorrow. I barely slid by (and by "barely slid by" I mean "I'm pretty sure I aced that shit") on a philosophy test yesterday. Even though I still think philosophy is the art of knowing how to talk about NOTHING! It turns out I'm not so bad at it: Go figure. Thank you Blogger.

So my goal for today is to

1. Get done aaall the research I need for my Women's Studies paper... For which I have as yet, no thesis statement so if anyone has any bright ideas I'd love you for it. The topic is an issue facing women in South Carolina (anything basic like reproductive rights, domestic violence, I'm slightly leaning towards lack of sex education).
2. Find a fifties-ish add, an add from today, and write a rough draft compare/contrast of the two.
3. Call my doctors office (AGAIN), because apparently no one there thinks it's in their job description to confirm refills with my pharmacy... Aaand lastly...
4. Also call AAA and chew out whoever's ass must be chewed in order to get them to take care of the $150 wench bill Z and I picked up when we had to swerve off the road on the way home from the Coheed show to avoid hitting what I thought was an animal... No, I haven't confirmed if it was a raccoon or a bag of trash, and no, he WILL NOT let me live it down.

So! That's what I'm up to on this glorious Wednesday. And I'm going to get right down to work, right after I go bounce on my trampoline because I've been feeling fat lately...

What? I can't help it if I stress eat... And like it...

I still remember telling Mary "Dude, his name is Zeke... What the hell kind of name is that?!"

My boyfriend and I had quite an enjoyable stroll through the Greek Festival. I was reminded so well of a year ago when we first went together before we were officially dating. I loved walking around hand in hand and realizing how far he and I have come. Some times I worry that I put too much pressure on my relationship to be "just so," but the bottom line is that I'm happy. He makes me happy; seeing him smile makes me happy; making him cookies makes me happy; his making me breakfast makes me happy; his messy hair and glasses make me happy; gaming together on the weekend makes me happy; watching a million movies makes me happy.

He's not my first boyfriend, or first kiss, or whatever other basic "first" you can think of... But he is the first person I've experienced what I call "grown-up" emotions with (even if most grown-ups don't even have these traits in their relationships). I'm still a selfish little girl when it comes to most things, but believe I try so hard when it comes to him to compromise. I'm not always good at it but I think he knows and appreciates that I'm trying. I appreciate the things he goes out of his way to do for me too, like looking at my (sometimes very) liberal point of view with an open mind just so we can understand each other a little better. I give myself so much credit for having a tough skin (which I really shouldn't), but I'm always grateful when he's there to remind me that whatever I'm facing isn't anything I can't handle, whether it's school, family, work, us, or just myself.

He is by no means perfect. I am by no means perfect. We are perfect for each other in so many wonderfully imperfect ways. I get choked up when I think about trying to express to him how and what I feel. I get scared that I'm going to say too much and ruin it an hour later by being fussy about something little... I don't want him to not believe every word I say when I try to say I love him.

I'm perpetually trashing on the south, so God knows that I was shocked when I found someone like him down here. In some ways he's no different than anyone else in Columbia. In other ways he is completely unique to anyone I've ever met anywhere. Whatever the case I genuinely enjoy being in love with him. He is my new best friend and one that feels so safe. If this all came crashing down around me tomorrow, you're damn straight I'd be bitter! But I still would hope I wouldn't change any of it: not one kiss, not one fight. He's taught me so much about myself and love and that is something that is worth any heartbreak.






But for now, let's just stave off the heartbreaking part, huh?

If I didn't like my hair so damn much, I'd be pulling it out right now.

I'm only forcing myself to post so that I don't leave my poor little blog lonely for months on end again.

I've been crazy-stressed with school and family so Your Answer In Spades has been the first thing to get neglected lately. I think my not-quite-New Years resolution should be to post at least every other day. Even if the blog is short and just a "Hello" to my readers... I never stick to any of the projects I start and when I do I procrastinate like crazy: very bad traits to hang on to in college or otherwise.

That said, please feel free to hassle me if I slack off. Use profanity if you must, whatever it takes to get the job done.

I'd appreciate it, thanks.

Aaand finally! I'm off to the Greek Festival (since that is the only even remotely cultural celebration I can find going on around this town)!

Have a good weekend, all.

May The Force Be With... Me!

I would love this blog to be about how I am the absolute greatest girlfriend ever but instead I'll be honest.

I'm going to pick up my held copy of Star Wars: The Force Unleashed this afternoon as a little gift for my boyfriend. I've been hyping him up for a few days now about this "AMAZING SURPRISE" I've got planned for him. I'm going to go home and bake some cookies before he gets off work to make him think that the cookies were the surprise, big let down, then while he's changing out of work clothes I'm going to strategically position myself in front of the t.v. and begin playing.

His jaw will drop and I'm just hoping not to loose a limb when he goes for the X-Box controller...

Of course the game is for him because he is the biggest Star Wars junkie I've ever met... But I'll admit that I'm mostly getting it because I wanna play too. :)

Long time no post...

Mostly because I haven't been in the greatest of moods, I've only thought of blogs that would be a bummer. Instead here's my quick update and a wish that you (yes YOU) would find to time chit chat with me a bit. I do love talking to strangers, it's such stress relief... I didn't get my inverse piercing done because I was having a fat-day. Yes: Fat-days exist. No: I don't have an image problem. I might get it done this weekend if time permits. Oh! Speaking of this weekend! The Greek Festival kicks off tomorrow but I'll have to be going Friday since I've got class Thursday. Either way, I'm excited. Last year at the Greek Festival, Z and I were still very unofficial and lingering in our mysterious-to-each other stage. Very fun and exciting time for a new couple. I also bought a (way too expensive) ring with this huuuuge grey pearl that I love. It's probably one of my favorite rings: I have a ring fetish: it's shape is reminiscent of a grape bunch with all the silver orb accents around the pearl. Anyway, my goal is to gorge myself on baklava (I didn't even try to spell that correctly) and score a pretty new something while enjoying my boyfriend's company. I need something to take my mind off of my family's stress. I love them but I can't handle having all of Mom and Dad's marital conflicts on my shoulders... There is nothing I can do. When it comes to my parents, I'm just a kid.

Inverse piercing for a reversed life?... Nah, I'm just tryin' to make this sh*t philosophical.

Tell me I'm not the only one here who marks life changes with body art? I know my best friend's tribal tattoo is actually a reflection of the shape of her family tree: which is the only reason I didn't object to the otherwise cliche style. As for how/why I remember my piercings (outside of my first and second standard ear piercings because I don't remember ever not having them):

• Cartilage: Started a new school and was determined not to fit it.
• Belly button: Starting high school/making father cringe.
• Third standard ear piercing: I was realizing and enjoying that my piercings were unique to me.
• Second cartilage: The best friend Courtney pierced me, forever a connection.
• Fourth standard ear piercing: pierced them myself on impulse because "I was in control dammit!"
• Nose: My principle threatened not to let me walk at graduation thus I had to get it./Dude, I've got such a cute nose.
• Rook: leaving Portland for Columbia: I wanted to take something with me. (I had to take this one out... I wonder what that means? Should I get it re-pierced in SC or OR?)

Now I'm thinking I'll get an inverse navel (the bottom part of my belly button). Starting back to school has reawakened a feeling of potential in me that I was desperately missing. I'm between the naval and getting the rook done again. A while ago I took all my silver hoops out (10 between both of my ears) because I wanted to look "more grown-up: responsible." Now my ears are naked so I'm buying new earrings to add back.

Anyway, no laughing if you think this whole thing is stupid but the way some people are all emotionally attached to their tattoos, I am to my piercings.

As always, if anyone is reading this, I'd love to hear your body art stories. You know where I'm at.

"You smile like a saint but you curse like a sailor"

I really don't mean to complain so much. I just find that it's easy to get passionate and verbalize things that irk me...

Say that again... And I will shove my feminist high heel up your ass!

I'll make this rant short because I'm swamped with work due to being out for school.

Higher education is such a mixed blessing that I would love to jazz on, but it will have to wait for another blog.

Aura's pet peeve #8, 9, or 10 is the use of phrases like "Femi-Nazi" or "bra-burner," etc.

As defined in my Women's Studies class, Feminism is not the thought that women are victims and men are monsters, but rather that women should be agents of change to remove local and transnational gender inequality. I won't hash and rehash why women deserve the same fair pay as men or why it is unfair to assume that as a female I can't wait to be a housewife and baby-machine.

I just want to clarify that I'm not one of those man-bashing feminists (until you give me reason to be)! I am not after female world domination and my bra remains consistently covering my perky little breasts rather than on fire. I am not the kind of woman to always shove gender arguments down your throat (even if you deserve it, pig) so please, at least attempt to show a little class and not throw around trashy slurs like "dyke" whenever you hear me voice a slightly more liberal (than your) opinion.

You're only setting me off on my other favorite pet-peeve- Bible thumpers.
But we won't go there. I can already hear you getting huffy.


Thank you for listening, BlogSpot. I appreciate it.

Procrastination 101

Class day 2 starts in 35 minutes and I'm just now sitting down to sketch out an essay about my experiences as a writer. Blogger.com will undoubtedly get a nod in it's direction, like a Star Wars Easter egg...

Gtg. Spell check time.

I love anyone who bothers to read my little online journal here and hope you all had a Labor Day weekend as eventful and enjoyable as mine.

Tootles.

I hope I become that kind of mean teacher that students love...

I survived the first day of class at Columbia College with a splitting headache, courtesy of the sleeping pill I thought would be such a great idea last night. Thanks a lot, modern medicine.



My women's studies class won't be as much of a man bashing class as I'd hoped. Everyone seems really down to earth so I guess that means I'm going to miss out on the experiences I've heard about symbolic bra burning in higher education. Damn.



My English class is going to be as painful as expected. I'm (clearly to all reading my blog) a little rusty when it comes to writing. We wrote a practices essay and while my teacher smiled and said "Your style is good but grammar needs a little work," I took her grimace to mean "Girl, you don't know a period from a hole in your..."



Philosophy was nice. The teacher's introduction included asking students to silently answer questions such as "Do you believe in God/afterlife/evil?" Then telling the class to please leave these personal beliefs at the door when coming into classroom discussions. "We are not here to attack, defend, or promote our personal religions, just to discuss philosophy and different ways of thinking presented by different religious beliefs." I appreciated that. It had the familiar ring of Pressman's intro to biological anthropology... Those days seem so long ago...



Last but not least, history: he promised we won't have to memorize too many dates. From the syllabus and his little "please don't drop out of my class yet" shpeel, the course sounded to me more like a history/historical anthropology class. Praise heaven, because I had just been telling my boyfriend that I wished I'd picked a couple more major-specific (or at least not boring as hell) classes to keep my interests piqued during the first term. Aside from that, the teacher had a decent enough sense of humor and asked an English major what she "planned to do with (her) pre-unemployment degree?" The girl looked pissed, but I got a kick out of it. I mean seriously! You're an English major! You're going to need a sense of humor in order to not snap!



Well, I'm off to go read pages 15-27 of my Using Sources Effectively book.



I know.



You're jealous, try to contain it.

Second-First Day

Classes start tomorrow.

It's been two-ish years since I've been in school.

I'm not nervous...

*twitch*

Logo Sweatshirt: $65. Showing school spirit to the bitter, degree-lacking bitches in my office: Priceless (Add my karma for a tip).

Quick post today because I played hooky from work Friday to get all my books and such straight at school.

I would just like to voice my irritation with *checks shirt's tag* JanSport for aiding my campus book store in marketing semi-high quality collegiate sportswear at outrageous prices to dutifully passionate students, only desiring to show some damn school spirit!

I was ecstatic to spend only $400-ish on books for this term, rather than the standard $600, for which I will only receive $25-30 when sell back time rolls around. Scoring all my books used meant I was going to have some extra cash to blow on whatever impulse buys I could find between Language Arts 101's shelf and the check-out counter.

I ended up deciding on one black hoodie for my mom and a white one for my sister. Picking up the sweatshirts for Mom and Squeak, I thought how cute they'd look on me and thus, had to get two more. I didn't look at the price tag because I'd already married myself to the idea of how wonderful it would feel to attend school soccer games sporting my bright Columbia College spirit across my chest and knowing my little sister was doing the same 3k miles across the country.

Once I rang up I let it sink in that I had spend more than half of the price of my books on sweatshirts... That would have only cost me half of that at Target...

Whatever.

My hoodies are super cute. Even the one I've already managed to smudge with chocolate...

I'm feeling all grown up this morning... Hopefully I can shake it off by lunch.

Big step for yours truly this morning: I paid off my car. Completely. Farewell to forking over HALF of each paycheck every month and embracing being broke. Now that class is starting, I have a whole new reason to be broke! It's really not that bad, I'm rather looking forward to it. Having no money during college years is sort of a rite of passage like a first concert, first kiss, or first car crash.

Which brings me to!

When I re-found my blog I couldn't help laughing at the optimistic little ramble I wrote about buying the convertible vs a sensible car. To fill in the last few months blank; shortly after writing said blog, I was in a mean car accident that left me emotionally scared, on pain killers, and without my cute little cream-colored Corolla. Long story short, I had my first collision, first totaled car, first fight with an insurance company, and first car buying experience in the same two weeks. I'll skip the gruesome details of running for my life past brand new Civics, Mustangs, and Chargers, from soul consuming sharks in salesmen suites...

Eventually I decided on a private buyer; This really nice guy who's spoiled ass daughter didn't want the two year old, fully loaded, sage green, four-door, hatch-back Ford Focus he'd bought her. I can't hate the snotty little brat too much because the man ended up selling me the car at a murderously generous price. I almost felt bad... Almost.

With the money that the insurance company (finally) gave me I only had to borrow a small amount, but resolved that I WOULD have that money paid back before school started in order to avoid car payments during college. So, like I said, half of EVERY paycheck and six-ish months later, I've got my sensible car.

I love my Focus. I can't beat the gas mileage, it's cute as hell, and I love the four doors and hatch back that mean I'm never leaning too far over or around anything to get the four to five pairs of shoes I always have with me... For emergency occasions of course.

Five reasons to smile even though my co-workers are bitches

Here is my random list of things that make me happier than they should:

~New office supplies.
New pens that still have the ink showing in the quill, notebooks that have never been written in, and more specifically the new glowing pink jar of SortKwik sitting in front of me promising to save me from having to lick my fingers every time someone brings me their nasty, dirty motions to clock, and at least a million paper cuts.

~Watching my boyfriend scarf up anything that I cook.
Whether its rice crispy treats, muffins, cookies, a Jack and Coke (okay, so you don't cook a Jack and Coke, but he says I make them perfectly, so they're goin' on my list), or Campbell's everything-but-the-chicken-in-the-box Herb Chicken. Big damn deal that everything I am capable of preparing is practically pre-prepared anyway! Watching the boy wolf it down like he hasn't eaten in weeks, wiping his mouth, grinning, giving me a kiss, and saying "that was amazing, thank you Beautiful" makes me feel like a five-star sioux chef, instead of the domestically challenged disaster that I am.

~Good hair days
Enough said.

~School starting next week.
Honestly I had thought my classes didn't start until the first week of September, so naturally when I found out that my first class is next week, I almost suffered a massive heart attack. After the initial shock and making five to six frantic phone calls to my boss, doctor's office, and campus book store, I am again calm. I cannot wait to dive head first into learning historically significant dates that I will promptly forget after the first test; why women don't need men and shall someday rule the world, using out counterparts only for reproductive purposes; and last but not least, a refresher course about why I never need to be refreshed on the definition of an isosceles (is that how you spell isosceles?) triangle.

~Bad grammar.
No matter how much I improve and tune my writing skills, I will always endear the fact that I have no concrete understanding of where commas and semi-colons belong.

I LOVELOVELOVE being a nerd!!!

I just got down browsing other people's blogs (btw does anyone know how to make a subscription list on here?) and found this girl with bright pink hair, blogging about gaming.

Can I please just say that I love ladies who are openly into nerdy shit like video games, comics, Star Wars, manga, whatever your poison is. I LOVE IT. I always felt so out of place growing up because I didn't play with Barbie, but I could whip your (AND your older brother's) ass at any game you gave me the controls to. My best friend got me into comics (X-Men, I still love Gambit most) and my parents got me into Star Wars (These aren't the droids you're looking for).

Lemme tell ya, it's hard being the captain of the cheer leading squad when all you want to do is going home and ding lv 35 on that damned white mage...

It's becoming more and more socially acceptable for "hot" girls to be nerds as well, and it's about damn time! I've never thought hair twirling was cute, but guys, tell me this; how hard would your jaw hit the floor if you ever bumped into a babe that knew who Frank Castle was?

(I can see you smiling) Exactly! Geeky girls are hot.

Nerd is the new pink.



And yes, this is what my toiling over conviction letters for 8hrs a day reaps.

Waking up from a long night and I'm not straightening my hair.

I'm usually first in line to discuss my dreams with anyone who will listen but last night was one of those crazy, long strings of dreams/nightmares that I can remember if I try hard but it's exhausting to bother so I won't.
So, I woke up late and rolled out of bed looking like an electrocuted lion... And loved it!
I didn't bother to singe my hair stick-straight with a torture implement hot enough to compete with the sun. Lately I've been letting my wild hair do it's own thing. I hate/love that the less work I put into my hair, the more glamorous it looks.
Fast forward to me sitting at my desk finishing my honey-lemon green tea, because everything before that is a blur. A co-worker from another office is standing in front of me opening up about what I suddenly realize is a pretty intimate part of his life. He is telling me, very earnestly, that he is completely unhappy with his life. Start to finish: his job, his friends, where he lives, everything.
I try not to be taken aback by his random opening up session, to be honest I'm used to it. For some reason people feel they can talk to me. I have no clue why since I'm the most anti-social person I know...
Without being too cliched, I tell him that if he's bored with his job, find a new one; if he hates Columbia, move; if he can't stand his friends, ditch them. Life is what you make of it. Everything is what you truly want it to be. Even if a situation is horrible, I believe that how it effects a person is based on how that person perceives it.
While I'm attempting to give something that sounds like sage advice, I'm thinking that I cannot wait for school to start up again in Fall.
I love feeling like I'm chasing my dream even if I'm only sitting in a classroom...
"There is no spoon."

Just hang tight...

I promise I'll get around to an update about what has happened with me (and my car) over the past year but for now, I need to vent.

Does anyone ever feel the need to say something nakedly bitchy?
I'm having a totally crappy day and I'm not in the mood to be all female-fake.
I can't say I feel bad about my attitude today because I believe that everyone needs to let loose once in a while.
Just be mean and get it out of your system right?
That said. I feel the need to restore my karma for the day and since I'm unwilling to apologize to anyone's face...

This is my formal apology for telling you that I'm glad you won't be at work tomorrow.

I didn't mean to sound quite that cold when I said your new haircut made your head look uglier.

Thanks for caring, but I still don't want your opinion on my choice of majors. Cram it.

...
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I know that wasn't perfect but I feel much, much better!
Thank you for listening!