~As I venture through this journey of life, random realizations are made. The experience of this past year at college has recently developed one thought in my mind. I would be perfectly contented continuing my college education without end. I've discovered the strange fact that I enjoy learning. My mind thrives on information, be it for class or random uselessness. I become interested in the most random things, search for information and details, and fill my noggin with my newfound material. Yesterday I was asked what my passion was, what moves me. My passion is my hunt for knowledge. ~I realize that, as with many of life's challenges, money is an issue. I cannot realistically expect this dream to materialize. I am financially incapable. However, if I were to miraculously win the lottery with the tickets I have never purchased, this is what I would enjoy doing with my winnings. I'd attend university after university, just learning. I'd occasionally work for the extra experience, and the joy of accomplishing something. I wouldn't spend my millions and billions on fancy boats and sports cars. My clothes would remain relatively unfashionably inexpensive. ~After I have finished my quest, (which will inevitably occur do to age, arthritis, vision impairment, and a search for something more... an actual life perhaps) I can utilize my plethora of knowledge to better society. A solution to all world problems is out there somewhere, I will have found it. I will also be a master at trivia games. Radio and television shows beware. I can donate this extra income to charity and others wanting to follow my education adventure. Oh what fun it will be! ~Oops. The nerd is oozing out of me again. How shameful. Better go fix that before someone sees.
Reader Warning: Be aware that this post is not likely to be anywhere in the realm of funny, witty, clever, amusing, imaginative, or creative. Feel free to scroll down and pass by, or click here, that oughta keep ya busy. However, I feel as though I must get this out of my head (which was the original purpose of this blog's creation in the first place) and I really can't tell anyone about it. That would mean revealing my untold of blog, my reading of an acquaintances blog, and the occasional reading of a seemingly random blog, and the telling of private things. Strange realizations have been made. Long ago, I learned of an acquaintance's blog. (there is so much more here, in who this person is) I since have stopped by occasionally. In fact, this is how I decided to create my own. Then, during a period of immense boredom, I stumbled upon another random blog while pushing "next blog". I felt oddly compelled to read it, and bookmarked it even. As I read, I felt some sort of strange connection to the girl. The girl seemed so troubled, so hurt. I once even left an anonymous comment, trying to give some positive encouragement, which she seemed to misunderstand. Anyway, I have continued to read it occasionally. Then, last night, the light bulb went on. I really don't understand why I did not realize it earlier. The above mentioned acquaintance had left a comment on the strangers blog, and I recognized her pseudo name. Everything started coming together. This was no stranger after all. I know her, her family, her friends... The world wide web is not as big as one may have thought. It is a small world after all. And yet, she is a stranger to me, because I was oblivious to all of the things going on in her life. I was shocked. I went back and read old entries and it all made sense. Subtle things that were mentioned (things that I paid little attention to during the first reading but are probably the reason I felt the odd connection) started to stick out. The whole thing made me feel sick inside. I stumbled upon this on accident and now realize that there is so much to her that I never knew. It makes me worry about her. The things I do know mixed with my new knowledge mixed with the things I can never know scare me for indescribable reasons. It's all very unexpected. Fortunately, it now appears as though she is getting help and is making great strides toward a brighter tomorrow. I feel like a bad person. I can't even express it. I couldn't believe that this could possibly be true. I mean, what are the chances? But it is and I can't grasp the enormity of it all. If by some insane chance you randomly stumble upon my blog and it is you, you feel as though I could be talking about you... I apologize and want you to know that I'm here if you need a shoulder. It's me. We played softball together and I gave you a bloody nose.
I stand by what I have previously said about the overuse of exclamation marks. I do, however, appear to be acting hypocritical in my newest reading selection. It was only days ago that I complained of the abuse. Now, after a trip home and visit with one of my elder brothers, I have begun to read "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory". I realize that the book may be considered to be for young children. I also realize that I am not a young child. However, if my intellectual, 26-ish year old, valedictorian brother can get away with such things, why shouldn't I? After he began reading bits of "Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator" aloud to me, I became addicted and have borrowed the book, containing both stories, from him. After reading a few of the short chapters, I came upon the introduction of a mister Willy Wonka. It seems as though silly Willy has a liking for the aforementioned exclamation mark. And yet, I will continue reading it. The usage in this book is not exactly the type I had in mind as I complained earlier. This may just be my way of justifying the continuance of my reading, but I would also be a hypocrite if I stopped reading for such a petty issue. Also, word is that a new version of the movie is soon to be seen, which is the reason for brother dearest's renewed interest in the books. I do not know how I feel about this. Why muddle with a classic? The old version does not produce fond childhood memories as one may suspect. Rather, it produces memories of a cute, innocent, young girl on the night of her first high school dance. It seems like ages ago Patrick and I were timidly sitting on his couch watching the movie between dinner and the dance. A strange night that was for me. It's funny to think about years later. And I digress...
I've discovered that people who use exclamation marks excessively frighten me. I’m a firm believer that such an expressive, dramatic punctuation mark should be used sparingly and with caution. The overuse by some individuals is actually disturbing. The folks are either a) incorrect in their usage , b) overly perky in a creepy way , c) on speed or other stimulants, or d) all of the above. Not only is this phenomenon disconcerting, it is distressing in an annoying manner. Imagine each sentence in this paragraph ending in the deviant exclamation mark, rather than the more appropriate period. I could type it as so, but fear the pain on my eyes. Personally, as I read, I do so with the expression and mood that the author has skillfully and craftily created and offered to me. Therefore, reading something overloaded with symbols that suggest excitement can be exhausting. It’s almost as if your eyebrows need to be raised with expression in order to fully experience the emotion of the writing. That is simply not normal. Nor is it appreciated in my opinion. Reading should be enjoyable, not exhausting or annoyingly perky. (I do realize that I have used the mark below, “What a concept!” However, it is clear to see that this was to show sarcastic excitement.)
"Find out what it means to me." What a concept! Aretha really had something going here.
Much like it is rude to pack up your belongings at the end of class before the professor has finished talking, it is also not consider respectful to continue blabbering as the professor is attempting to begin his or her lecture. The professor stands patiently in front of you, the class's starting time having passed, waiting for you to simmer down so that the rest of the students can hear over your immature, unnecessary jabbering. I myself have never claimed to be mature, mostly because I often am not. I do, however, know when to keep my lips pressed together and my tongue motionless to avoid the disrespectful conversation at times that talking, other than that of authority, should not take place. Show a little respect. What an extraordinary idea. And I do not just say this because I, at times, have a strange student/professor, shamefully geekish, Russian crush on the old man being referred to.
While on the topic of common courtesy… Is it too much to ask of you to empty your filth-ridden lint out of the dryer after you have removed your filth-ridden clothing?
And just to lighten it up a bit… I enjoy it when the shirtless boys play tennis behind my room. Does this make me a bad person?
Significant Characters: -Me -Cute Nerd Boy (CNB) -Girl That Doesn't Understand When People Are Joking (DUH)
Setting: Five strange souls are walking through the bitter cold in the middle of nowhere, some time around 2 a.m., with a purpose and yet not purposefully. Two deer are spotted ahead. The deer are commented on.
... Me: Can you ride a deer? (This is funny for other unmentioned reasons) CNB: Do you have a saddle with you? Me: Not on me. Damn! DUH: You could ride it bare-back. Me: It's not a bear. It's a deer, silly! DUH: No, I mean like you ride a horse bare-back. B-A-R-E. Not B-E-A-R. Me: ...yeah, I know... I was joking... All: ...(silence)...
What bothers me the most is that she thought that I was the stupid one. However, I was not.
I am not a fan of politics. However, the past few days I have had some hands on experience with all the things that I don’t care for. Since I am such a pushover and damn good friend, I have been dedicating loads of time the past few days to the campaign of a friend of mine. Who knew that running for Student Government vice president would be such an intense and demanding experience? The distribution of flyers, sidewalk chalking, the pin wearing, the backward t-shirts, the late-night Wal-Mart runs, the getting back to the dorm at 3 a.m., getting up at 5:30 the same morning, the white-boarding, the standing around campaigning for 8 straight hours, the competition, the sunburn, the body-ache, the understandably annoyed people, it never ends. Did I mention the measly 2.5 hours of sleep? Did I mention not being a morning person in the first place? Damn, that girl owes me big time. Tonight we will discover whether or not all the hard work has paid off.
Say or stare at the word "snuggle" for a bit. It's really a rather strange word. Anyhoozle manoozle...
One of the strange things on the list of strange things that I find strangely enjoyable are dryer sheets. I've come to love them more and more. They are so simple, yet so fabulous. Every item kept within my bottom dresser drawer smells beautifully crisp and clean thanks to the handy-dandy dryer sheets that accompany it. Washing my bed sheets is a tremendous chore due to the fact my bed lies on the top bunk and making the bed from scratch is a difficult task. However, climbing into the fresh fragance of my snuggled sheets makes the struggle well worth it.* Yesterday I was daring and placed 2 sheets in the dryer with my load of laundry. Scandalous. Do not even get me started on the fact that this may have been the most exciting part of my day. Also do not get me started on the amount of used dryer sheets littering the laundry room floor. Also, also do not get me started on the phenomenon of the snuggle bear being cute and cuddly and creepy at the same time. I could make any one of these points the topic of extensive posts, but will have mercy on you and myself.
* Notice the use of the words "snuggle" and "struggle" in the same sentence. Why it's funny I do not know.
"If you are what you eat, in my case I'll be sweet" -Jason Mraz (aka future husband #3)
Just a word of warning to any of you fellow sugar lovers: When a bottle of juice reads "sweet tart taste", this does not necessarily mean that the cranberry juice held within the bottle tastes of SweetTarts. If you are ignorant enough to believe such things, your taste buds will correct you immediately. The sounds produced from your vocal cords that are sure to follow shortly afterwards will be reminiscent of Will Ferrell's portrayal of Buddy* in Elf. Tart... yes. Sweet... no. And yet, even after the disappointment and initial disgust, you will continue to consume the foul tasting cranberry juice for unknown reasons. You will tip your head back further and further until you realize that the last drop has fallen upon your tongue.
* ya know the sounds... the "that's yucky" sounds... "eeeh, eeeeaaaahhh"
There are severe life decisions that a girl has to face on an everyday basis. These life shattering choices, that can have a huge impact on the future, shall not be taken lightly. Deep thought must go into these decisions to ensure the proper outcome. Therefore, the rusting gears in my mind were cranking at full speed earlier today. As I strolled down the hallway in between classes, I felt the creepage of my otherwise comfy underoos. Considering the loungy pants I was sporting at the time, I reckoned that the offensive grundy was most likely noticeably visible. I've never been one to fret over attempting "ladylike". However, I decided that blatantly deep picking wouldn't be appropriate in this situation. Afterall, people cluttered the hallway, and who was to say that the man of my dreams wasn't walking directly behind me, his view of my tush tarnished by the unpleasant sight? I wondered what exactly the proper protocol is in such a dilemma? Would the surrounding public rather view a distasteful picking or the continued flossing of my cheeks? Sadly, I'm afraid I have not yet come to a suitable answer. My solution until the answer is found: pick away while hidden in the empty stairway.
