I visited a local dollar store recently to purchase a broom and whatever else struck my fancy. As I strolled the aisles, I was appalled at what I saw. I have always understood a dollar store to be a place where every item sold was one dollar, or perhaps 2 for a dollar. This is how we roll in my neck of the woods anyway. However, here it seems that you can sell things for 3, 7, even 10 dollars and still stamp the misleading "Dollar Store" sign on your store. Outrageous, I say. Outrageous!
I am poor. I cannot afford food. Therefore, on a recent hunger-wave, I resorted to the ramen noodles that I've kept for emergency reasons. Don't get me wrong. Ramen noodles are pretty good, but after living in the dorm last year, I have grown weary of their consumption. Anyway, as I cooked the packet up, I noticed a small bug floating around in there. "Hey buddy, that's my soup." Being so hungry that I was taking on disgusting actions, I fished the sucker out and continued to stir the noodles. Then I saw another one, and another, and another. At this point they went down the disposal and the remainder of the packets in my closet got dumped in the trash. What does a girl gotta do to get some food? But don't blame the ramen noodle company. I think those babies were pretty old...
Hunger is not the only thing that has done me in. The other day I was thirsty, parched even. I went to purchase a bottled beverage and surveyed my choices. Having never tried it before, I decided to go with the Coke with lime. It sounds like a hit idea, my roommate seems to like it, and that commercial was pretty clever, but have you ever tried this stuff? After the first gulp I was like, "whoa, that's weird and kinda nasty" and yet there was a strangely familiar taste to it. I continued to drink it only to figure out what it tasted like. After roughly half of the bottle had made its way down my throat, I figured it out. Eureka, it tastes like some sort of multipurpose cleaning product. So that's how this stuff was invented. They were cleaning out the vats over at the Coke plant and accidentally mixed the cleaner with the Coke. Rather than take the loss and dispose of the tainted beverage, they marketed it to fools like the American public. Brilliantly done.
Doesn't it suck to be the guy that walks into class late right as the professor is talking about punctuality? Yes, it does. I will now reenact the incident in play form. enjoy
THE ADVENTURES OF THAT GIRL, a new play series Characters: Professor J Late Boy insignificant students
Setting: early afternoon ancient philosophy class small, intimate classroom Professor J stands before the 20 students in attendance lecturing
Plot: Late Boy gets caught in an unfortunately ironic situation
Act 1, Scene 1: -Professor J: Today we will finish the Republic and Socrates will suggest a conclusion to the question presented in the Book II. Next week we will move on to Aristotle and the question, "Do we all seek happiness?" -insignificant students: (variation of blank stares, doodling, and deep thought) -Professor J: blah blah blah... moral virtues.... intellectual virtues... blah blah blah -insignificant students: (number of blank stares increases, deep thought reduces) -Professor J: yadda yadda... punctual virtue... yadda... punctual... in the middle of the word "punctual" the door opens Late Boy enters -All, excluding Late Boy: HAHAHAHAHA strange silence -All, excluding Late Boy: heh... heh -Professor J: We are not laughing at you. I understand you come from a different class, causing you to be late every day. You just have very unfortunate timing, as I was just discussing punctuality. -Late Boy: sits down in silence, looking a bit confused and uncomfortable fade out with Late by Kanye West END SCENE I will begin casting soon. Send your resume and headshots my way if you're interested. No professional experience necessary.
I do not agree. People can change, and I can't help but resent you saying otherwise. If you were to compare who he is now with who he was five years ago... maybe you'd understand.
Just a few things that have come to my attention. *me making pancakes = comedy at its finest *Pressing the snooze button can be a dangerous game. *Monopolization of the sidewalk should be outlawed. *Too much candy corn is a bad thing. *When your tie is constantly twisting, perhaps the purchase of a tie-clip or pin of some sort is in order. *Blackboards are black and are written on with chalk. Whiteboards are white and are written on with marker. The latter are also called dry-erase boards. What is a board that is green and written on with chalk called?
I am a liar. Even when I do not open my mouth, my body is spewing with lies. I am not okay. I am not fine. I am not happy. I am not who you think I am. I am afraid. I am childish. I am confused. I am falling apart. I am cold. I am alone. I am hurt. I am weak. I am scared.
I shouldn't be left by myself. Long periods of solitude are unhealthy for me. I begin to get out of my mind. Last night was such a night. I was scaring myself. Really scaring. My thoughts and actions are unwanted, but inescapable. I think I've been having some depression problems lately, but of course I don't allow myself to reveal this to others. I don't even allow myself to cry. I have secrets. I have problems. The biggest is my inability to share these things. I cannot even bring myself to type them here, where no one will see. I will see. I lie. I lie to everyone, including myself, especially myself. And I'm good at it. Years ago I lied to a therapist and had them fooled. I let them believe things that weren't true so that they would stop digging, and they did. Perhaps this is where it all went wrong.
Ya know when it's really late (early?) and you know that you should take a shower and go to bed so that you can get up in the morning but for some reason you don't and you sit and think to yourself that you don't even feel tired because you just got back and all you really want to do is eat food because you've been hungry for the past 3 hours but were too busy with other things to put food in your mouth, so if you attempted to lay down and sleep you wouldn't be able to, even though in reality you would fall asleep as soon as you hit the pillow? (long rambly sentences seem to fit the mood) It is just such a moment right now because I know I will be tired in the morning, even though I've been up later and gotten up early, and not want to wake up but may have to at some point early in the day, before Teri has to leave for work and we may also go downtown like we had planned to do the other day when we were studying and saw what's his face, in order to go to Goodwill to try to find a halloween costume since I didn't find one earlier today inbetween my classes when I was supposed to be in the office. That is all. Goodnight
Tootsie Rolls are simply classic. They are the ultimate nostalgic candy. Honestly, pop on of those bad boys in your mouth and I guarantee an immediate flash back to good ol' days of parades and running out into the street to fetch the tasty treats, careful not to get run over by the passing floats. I know I love me some Tootsie Rolls. Then there's Tootsie Roll Pops. Dude! How many licks does it take?
(Written at roughly 1 am this morning, because concentrating on anything productive was an impractical ambition.)
If I were your boyfriend, I would break up with you. Actually, I don’t think I would stick around long enough to break up with you. I’d simply leave the country on the first flight out. I wouldn’t care where the plane was going, as long as there was a nice, large ocean between us. Also, I believe I would take a sledge hammer to my cell phone, gather the pieces, throw it into the garbage disposal, fish out whatever survived, drop it into a vat of acid, put on a pair of protective gloves, and flush the remainder down the toilet along with a turd laid by an overweight man suffering from irritable bowel syndrome. And after all this, I’m pretty sure I would still suffer from nightmares and awake feeling the need to vomit for a good six months. Perhaps I am overreacting. Perhaps it is perfectly normal to talk on the phone with the same person for 3-5 hours at a time, every day, especially when you’ve been dating the person for one of the two weeks you’ve known them. Perhaps it is insignificant that during these pointlessly extensive conversations your roommate can eat, write a page of her philosophy paper, leave to go grocery shopping, come back, watch tv, write a sarcastic narration while you sit behind her, take a nice long shower, putz around preparing for bed, and lay down attempting to sleep all while you sit on your bed and yammer on and on. I am also sure that no one finds you extremely annoying during these hours. Afterall, the way you talk, the volume of your voice, the topic of conversation, the ridiculousness of duration, and the juvenile characteristics of your relationship are not at all aggravating. I am positive that those fortunate enough to share a living space with you are more than pleased to be subjected to these things. Furthermore, I bet that the fact that you neglect your dishes that have been rotting in the sink, disregard the idea of cleaning, and have failed to purchase toilet paper has gone unnoticed by these lucky individuals you call roommates. I am absolutely positive, after learning that this poor boy will be visiting your humble residence, that no thoughts of removing the laces from her shoes and hanging herself ever crossed your dear roommate’s mind. It is simply not possible.
(At this point I forced myself to stop. But I gotta tell ya, I could've gone on.)
Twas one year ago that this blog entered the world. As with all other relationships, it has seen its ups and downs, its struggles and its triumphs. Originally, I had anticipated this place to be somewhere to vent and share things that I could share with no one else. It has evolved in a different manner, however, and I am unsure of how to characterize it. It isn’t always easy to maintain a secret blog. Throughout the year, there has been many a moment when I wished that the secret would leak and friends and acquaintances would discover the glory that is found within. However, I have kept my cover to ensure my want to never feel the need to censor myself in any way. Nevertheless, I often wish that others would know about my blog. This has partially to do with the desire for others to see part of me that I am too closed to share and partially to do with the disconcerting feeling that I am writing to no one, wasting my words. I realize that I created this place for myself and not others. However, it would be reassuring to know that somewhere there is someone hearing me and someone that finds my writing amusing. (not that I've written anything amusing in a while) It almost feels like putting my creativity into a Tupperware container and sealing it up. This seems unfortunate.
I am ashamed of myself. I never understood the urge to smoke a cigarette. I've always found the habit rather disgusting and unattractive. After all, the dangers of smoking are common knowledge. Why anyone would subject themselves to an addiction that is both disgusting and unhealthy has always been a mystery to me. I often urge my friends that smoke to drop the habit. Drop it like it's hot. However, I remain unsuccessful in convincing them to not light up. Therefore, I respect their right to smoke with a friendly reminder now and then. Then one day over the summer while I was suffering through a long night at the factory, I had the bizarre urge to have a lit cigarette in my hand. The strange desire has returned occasionally, usually during overwhelming moments of stress. Then, the urge turned into reality. I decided that I needed to experience the disgusting act first hand to get the craving out of my system. I smoked a cigarette. Actually, I've smoked four cigarettes. No one knows of this, not even my best friend. She would not approve of such things, just as I would not approve of her doing such things. I went to see a nurse the other day for unrelated reasons. Needing to fill out the routine questions on my paperwork, she asked about allergies, when my last menstrual cycle began, and whether or not I smoked. Naturally, I replied "no". To this she continued, "Good, and don't you even think about it." I was silently horrified. This secret is just between you and me.
Last night I said, "I'm probably a lot meaner than people think I am." I don't think I like that. Granted, I was suggesting that people think that I'm extremely nice, so being meaner than that is not being really mean. However, this still reveals that I'm not as nice as the image I portray. Does this make me fake and not a nice person to some degree? So basically, am I one of those phony, cruel people that I despise?
I realize how unbelievably nerdy this may be and that it may induce vomiting and ridicule from those less geekish. However, I find it necessary to proclaim my love for answers.com. This is seriously my favorite website. We've been lovers for quite some time now. Stone me if you wish, but not until you have experienced answers.com and all its glory. It knows, man. It knows.
He seemed exceptionally attractive to me today. Perhaps it was the baseball cap. I’m a sucker for a guy in a baseball cap. In any case, I found myself strangely compelled to smile. I'm not sure how I feel about this.
-Last night, after discussing the fact that we don't have enough fun, we went out and had ourselves some. Passing by Perkins due to the large number of hoodlums loitering the parking lot, we found ourselves in Walmart. This is a common occurrence, but an adventurous one none the less. Afterwards, having acquired quite the appetite, we finally made our way to Country Kitchen. Our waitress was odd in numerous ways, taking our menus away before getting a chance to look at them, wrongfully concluding that we had chosen the buffet, and abruptly asking our beverage preference. -At some point during the consumption of the less than exceptional food, I found myself strangely attracted to the container of seasoning sitting next to the ketchup. The situation got out of hand as I was basically dared to place the seasoning in my purse. It was roughly 1 a.m. at the time and the restaurant was relatively empty. Somehow the container fell into my purse.* Whoops. As we paid the check we noticed that the seasoning was for sale, $3.99 a container. This revelation brought the stunt to a whole new level. Now I felt like a thief. I suppose I am. -On the ride back we spotted multiple police cars and joked about getting pulled over and questioned about the stolen seasoning. As we continued to imagine and elaborate on these silly scenarios, yet another cop passed us as we stopped for a red light. Seconds later, pulling through the intersection, I hear, "Oh my God! I just ran a red light!" My dear friend had stopped but having been used to flashing lights all night, she went through while the light was still red.* -Much laughter followed due to the large amounts of insanity that had occurred throughout the evening. We managed to make our way back to campus without getting arrested and watched Elf simply because the night had that kind of mood to it. It felt good to relax and have those hearty, tears in your eye laughing moments for once. It's unfortunate that criminal behavior is necessary for such activities. *I do not promote nor recommend these behaviors.
Yesterday we were upset by the news of a stabbing on campus. Today we are upset by the news that there was no attack. The girl made the story up, the second student here to pull such a stunt in less than a year. I am unsure of whether she stabbed herself or what the exact circumstances of the incident were. However, I find the whole situtation a bit disconcerting.
Minor stab wounds were suffered by a girl on campus this morning by an unknown perpetrator wearing a black mask. “Minor Stab Wounds”. Does this phrase seem strange to anyone else? Last year the attack on campus was a hoax. It’s hard to fake stab wounds. It’s a small, secluded campus, with a good amount of forested area. The incident sparked my escorting of a friend back to the apartments, as if I would be able to ward off an attacker, no matter how much I claim I’d be able to defend myself like a badass, kungfu bodyguard.
Despite better judgment and my mother’s request, I departed earlier this evening alone. The trip to Taco Bell was necessary after all. After two, tasty, soft shell tacos, I moseyed over Walgreen’s. The thing about Walgreen’s is that they lure you in with their free rebates. I myself have never taken part in such rebates, as I am always skeptical of a good thing. However, tonight two rebated products (as well as other merchandise) made their way into my hands. I later sat in my car looking over the rebate pamphlet the cashier handed me after I inquired about how to do the rebate. This is when I became aware of the fact that only one of the Garnier products can be refunded per person. The Trickery. The Scandal. The Misleading. The Deception. The Bastards. I am a trusting person. I have faith in the common man. However, it is crap like this that makes me an increasingly cynical person. Fear not. The second product will be returned. I will not succumb to your cheap marketing scams.
I went back to hicksville for the weekend. The visit was rather uneventful, as I stayed in even when I knew a good number of my old friends were also in the area. Therefore, the most exciting moment of my weekend occurred in the checkout at Kohls department store. After a few weeks of laundry, I noticed it would be beneficial to add more underroos to my collection. I've noticed in the past that underwear tends to be freakishly expensive for something you put on your rear end. Consequently, I was prepared to cringe as I handed over my debit card once the ideal underpants had been found. I strolled the undie aisles in frustration. I found granny-panties here and skanky floss there. That's when I saw it, the clearance rack. I am a huge fan of clearance racks, so you can imagine my excitement. The sign read, "Take 50% off already reduced prices." I browsed, trying not to get my hopes up. I was ecstatic as I walked away from the rack carrying two fabulous pairs of underwear and a fabulous pink bra. The original total would have been roughly $45. At the checkout, my grand total was $3.68!!!, even less than I had estimated. Who else can say that they have ever purchased three perfect undergarments for under four dollars? No one I tell you, no one. Unfortunately, the rest of my shopping day was not nearly as successful.
