Overkill

I can't get to sleep
I think about the implications
Of diving in too deep
And possibly the complications

Especially at night
I worry over situations
I know I'll be alright
Perhaps it's just imagination

Day after day it reappears
Night after night my heartbeat shows the fear
Ghosts appear and fade away

Alone between the sheets
Only brings exasperation
It's time to walk the streets
Smell the desperation

At least there's pretty lights
And though there's little variation
It nullifies the night from overkill

Day after day it reappears
Night after night my heartbeat shows the fear
Ghosts appear and fade away
Come back another day

I can't get to sleep
I think about the implications
Of diving in too deep
And possibly the complications

Especially at night
I worry over situations
I know I'll be alright
It's just overkill

Day after day it reappears
Night after night my heartbeat shows the fear
Ghosts appear and fade away
Ghosts appear and fade away
Ghosts appear and fade away
--Colin Hay

Horrible Songs of 2006

The year is coming to a close. From a music standpoint, I must say "Thank God!" I have heard some of the most horrendous songs this year. In no particular order, here are the worst songs of 2006:

"Promiscuous" & "Say It Right" - Nelly Furtado
Oh, Nelly Furtado, how I used to adore you. I enjoyed your "I'm Like A Bird" song. And I enjoy your duet with Michael Buble. I think that duet is the only thing saving me from writing you off completely. Your new songs are disgusting, for lack of a better word. See, Nelly, I have this little theory: you sold your soul to the Devil. Now that you are soulless, your popularity among the teen set has soared and you're all over the place. But, really, was it worth it, Nelly?

"Wind It Up" - Gwen Stefani (Basically any Gwen Stefani song)
I've continually had problems with Gwen since she set off on her solo career. She has failed to impress me with any of her songs. In fact, I would love her if she'd just shut up forever. Whatever. Anyway, I just have to ask Gwen one question about this song: Are you aware of the fact that you're yodelling? Please do not yodel unless you're a Swiss maiden or a country singer. Otherwise, it's unbecoming and... rude.
Oh, and for the record, all your songs are annoying. Congratulations.

"Smack That" - Akon
Hideous song. The song becomes even more hideous when you find out your best friend's ten-year-old brother sings it on a regular basis, which is something that's very wrong and completely unnerving.
That's what I hate about these crap songs that multiply and show up everywhere -- young kids sing the song and think everything's cool. It's not cool and the kids only think it's cool because the songs are always on the radio.

"Circle Circle Dot Dot" - Jamie Kennedy and Stu Stone
I don't know if this is an actual song or if Jamie Kennedy's attempting to make some sort of statement. Regardless, the song is awful. When I hear the song, I want to do one of two things -- 1) vomit profusely, or 2) make myself permanently deaf so I never have to hear this putrid song ever again. The song is horrible and unnecessary.

All songs from Fergie's "London Bridge" Album
Child, your songs are neither tasty nor delicious no matter how many times you spell it out. We are not ready for your shit and we will never be ready for your shit. Sometimes I have to wonder if you got together with Gwen Stefani and decided to use the word "shit" in every single one of your songs. Do us all a favor and shut your face.

All songs from the Pussycat Dolls
I dislike all of their songs equally. I have nothing good to say about them or their songs. I want them to go away because I'm tired of hearing little girls singing "Buttons." Again, completely unnerving when little tykes go around singing songs that they have no idea what they're about. It's wrong. WRONG!

Other hideous songs that require no explanation:
"It's Goin' Down" - Yung Joc
"Stars Are Blind" - Paris Hilton
All K-Fed songs (whoever told this kid he could rap was on crack)

It's Time!

I just applied to graduate school.

I don't think I have ever been so scared or nervous in my entire life. My whole future is contingent on this one thing.

I have back up plans. I'd rather not use them, but I have them.

I don't know. I suppose I'll find out more about my future in 6-8 weeks.

* * *
I watched a pretty darn good movie this evening: The Last Kiss. Very thought provoking.

What happens when life becomes predictable? Do you run away and forget about everything in your life thus far? Do you just stay where you are, stagnant and unresponsive to all outside stimuli?

I guess it depends on your character and the situation you're in at that particular place and time in your life. Personally, I'm not sure I ever want life to become predictable.

Wonder what I'll do?

One of These Things Just Doesn't Belong Here....

Should the fact that Lindsay Lohan is attending AA meetings be a top news story?

Do you see it? Just after the real news story of a Pennsylvania teenager shooting himself at his school? Lohan says she's attending AA meetings

I just don't get it. I don't understand why it is a top news story. Aren't there bigger fish to fry? So, she's going to AA meetings. Big deal. Whoop-t-freakin'-do.

And, on a side note, who believes anything that child says? She says she's going. But is she really going? She also says she's been going for a year now and has been sober for one week. You have to go for a year before you can attain one week's sobriety? Whoa.

All I want for Christmas is a 4.0 average and less frivolity in the news-o-sphere. Thank you.

Jason Mraz is a Golden God!

I adore Jason Mraz. He released a new live album today called "Songs for Friends." It's amazing. Amazing!

Although I want to share with the world my love for the Mraz, I must admit that I began this post to share something else: how very tired my brain is. Last night, I was getting ready for bed. I reached in my top desk drawer for my chapstick. I popped off the lid and stuck the wonderful chapsticky goodness to my lips. Only then did I realize that I had picked up a glue stick! I attempted to apply glue to my lips! I didn't notice the larger size of the glue stick compared to the chapstick. No. I didn't notice that it was a glue stick until I could smell the glue because of its proximity to my top lip and, therefore, my nose! Is that not insane?

You know what else is insane? We have to formally check out for winter break. We've never had to do that before. Stupid people at this school. So, now, I can't just leave after my last final. I have to wait until my RA is available to check me out! I'm freaking 21 years old! I've been living in this school's dormitories for the past 5 semesters. I think I know what to do when leaving for Christmas break. Grr.

But remember: Jason Mraz is a golden god!

Almost Free!

I'm almost done! It's so very exciting that I can't even contain myself enough to write this last paper of death. Shall we have another list?

Dec. 8 - Brit Lit Paper due by 4pm
Dec. 11 - Young Adult Lit final @ 1pm
American Lit to 1865 take-home exam due
Dec. 14 - History of English Language final @8am
Brit Lit to 1800 final @ 10:30am
Jan. 5 - Emerson application due

The end! Isn't that wonderful? I'm ready for lots of sleep and ... well, lots of sleep.

Short Random Bursts of Randomness

It's raining anvils outside. There is not a speck of dry anything anywhere. It's ridiculous and I will not stand for it!

If this blog becomes quiet, it is because I have drowned in the torrential downfall that is rapidly swallowing my campus.

* * *
So, apparently, Tom Cruise kissed Katie Holmes for, like, ten years at their highly publicized, mock Italian wedding. And it was a mock wedding. They were married before they left the states. But I just want to point out that the reason the kiss lasted so long was because that was when Tom was officially sucking Katie's soul out of her body. She is now without a soul. She is a mindless drone, eager to follow Tom to the ends of the Earth.

You were so cute and fun on Dawson's Creek. Well, when Joey was with Dawson. I didn't care so much for Joey to be with Pacey. And I realize that as a girl you dreamed of marrying Tom Cruise. But was that really necessary? I dreamed of marrying Zach Morris, but you don't see me actually marrying him, do you?

* * *

My stupid school had a stupid program on Tuesday night entitled "Sex in the Dark." They kept putting up posters to advertise for it. There were "Sex in the Dark" posters everywhere. But it didn't tell you what the program was about. So, really, isn't that false advertisement? Because I would imagine that a program called "Sex in the Dark" would involve a gigantic orgy of college students, having sex in the dark. Right? Am I wrong in this?

Well, that's not what the program was about. I didn't go or anything. But I later found out what it was all about and it wasn't sex in the dark.

* * *

A car dealership in a small town near my small town has a little sign proclaiming that they have the cheapest prices from here to "Tin Buck To."

Really? Tin Buck To?

I don't know if it is meant to be a joke or if they really don't know how to spell Timbuktu. I kept meaning to take a picture of it when I was home but I always forgot. Tin Buck To.

I mean, seriously.

* * *

There's this O'Reilly's Auto Parts store in my college town. Their little sign encourages you to buy "O'Rielly's" gift cards for those hard-to-buy-for people. They misspelled their own name! And the name is on the sign in HUGE letters!

* * *

Britney Spears: could you please wear appropriate clothes at all times? I am glad that you're divoricing KFed, but couldn't you at least throw on some underpants before you go out partying with Paris Hilton?

And really, Britney? Paris Hilton? How different from KFed is she? Sure, she wears designer clothes, but she's kind of icky in her own way. She often gathers animals (dogs, monkeys, ferrets) and then, abandons them, much like KFed does with his own children. They're not very different, ol' Kevin and Paris.

Just something to think about.

Catch a Falling Star....

I didn't catch a falling star. I didn't even see a falling star.

I was so excited for the Leonids tonight. It has been years since I saw a meteor shower, and I just knew it would be awesome. But was it awesome? No. It was not awesome. And I'll tell you why.

Amanda and I bundled ourselves up and walked out to the darkest corner of campus to wait for the falling star action. We set ourselves down on the ground and turned our little heads to the sky.

Nothing.

Zip.

Nada.

Just two frozen kids in the dark for 45 minutes.

Pickles.

Things Are Gettin' Ugly

Tom Cruise is getting married this weekend. His last step before he formally tackles world domination. Don't say I didn't warn you.

* * *
I live in a dorm full of idiot children. They have decided to throw a Thanksgiving dinner on Thursday night. To advertise this, they've put up a big teal monstrosity with fake, spraypainted leaves that proclaims:
"John Smith
<3's
Pocahontas"

!

That is totally wrong. John Smith did not love Pocahontas. And they weren't involved in the first Thanksgiving. Pocahontas was dead by the first Thansgiving. This stupid sign only further emphasizes the fact that many children learn their "history" from Disney movies. It's tragic and I will not stand for it. I am boycotting Thanksgiving in the dorm setting this year. No Thanksgiving!

* * *
I have a boatload of crap to do in the next month or so. Let's make a list, shall we?

Nov. 17 - American Lit to 1865 exam
Nov. 20 - American Lit to 1865 essay due (800 words)
Nov. 20 - Thesis due for Young Adult Lit research paper
Nov. 22 - GRE at noon!
Nov. 27 - Modern American Lit essay due (500-750 words)
Dec. 02 - British Lit paper due (1800 words)
Dec. 04 - Young Adult research paper due (1800-2000 words)
Dec. 11 - Young Adult Lit final
Dec. 13 - History of the English Language final
Dec. 13 - British Lit final
Jan. 05 - Emerson application due!

Is that not a boatload of stuff? This doesn't take into account all the reading and regular, everyday school work I must do, or all the studying that needs to take place for the GRE.

Blah. Shoot me in the face.

Proof!

Remember this? Or this? Two tales of squirrels being rude and generally outlandish to me? And people laughed at me? Mocked my pain?

Well, there's proof that squirrels attack people. And the proof is right here: Mean Squirrel Attacks Pa. Letter Carrier.

Take that, naysayers and disbelievers! Squirrels are not cute and fluffy little friends. They are evil, disgusting rodents! They will attack you when you least expect it. Did you see the picture I took of the a squirrel staring down my friend? They are HOSTILE!

Don't say I didn't warn you.

Delicious Autumn and the Sidewalk of Death!

Today, I walked amongst the falling leaves and the changing trees of my campus.

I saw beautiful sights.




I even met a Scissortail Flycatcher!


I saw some more beautiful sights.




I met a threatening squirrel.


I saw some more beautimous trees.



And then, I spotted this wonderful Monarch butterfly!


I decided to chase Mr. Monarch, in hopes of attaining the perfect shot of the butterfly. But instead, I was attacked by the Sidewalk of Death!

The evil Sidewalk of Death! My greatest foe on campus. He's buckled and cracked like a freakin' fault line runs beneath him. He's always trying to trip me. I declare him a lawsuit waiting to happen. This picture does not due him justice in showing his true evilness. Beware of the Sidewalk of Death!

There Once Lived An Evil Child...

There once lived an evil child. She was so evil that she frightened her suitemates with her wild, evil behavior. Now, we shall see a scene from this horribly corrupt child's life.

Cast your mind. It's a relatively quiet evening in the suite, with three of its four occupants working on homework. The rooms to each individual room are open. Out of the silence, one of the girls in the second room blurts out, "Oh, no! I just deleted my paper!"

In the first room, this one particularly evil child jumps out of her chair and begins to laugh maniacally. She runs into the poor suitemate's room, laughing crazily and making a fool out of herself.

From the third room, the only child not working on homework has a look of horror on her face. "That is the meanest thing ever! What is wrong with you?!"

The evil child looks at her, stops laughing, mutters something about how the suitemate deserved it, and goes back to her room.

There you have it. A peep into the evil child's life. We know not the name of this evil child. We only know she's evil.

October 12 of 12

So, I decided to participate in the 12 of 12-ness this month. Many moons ago, this guy named Chad thought it would be neat to take 12 pictures of your day on the 12th day of the month and share them with the world. It really is an exceptional idea. I mean, I enjoy getting to peak into other people's lives via 12 pictures once a month. But my pictures are so... boring. Perhaps this is because I'm a poor college student that does nothing but study, but oh well. Here goes nothing.


1. This is my lovely bed that I hate to leave in the morning. But alas, morning came and I had to turn off the ugly, blaring alarm clock and make the bed. Usually, bed-making does not occur until later in the day, but I woke up feeling ambitious.


2. And here I am deciding what books I need for class from my handy dandy bookshelf. There are actually five shelves, but I only took a picture of the bottom three. As you can see there are a lot of books.... and these are all the books for my classes with the exception of two books that were on my desk from last night's studying.


3. This is the dorm, or residence hall, that I have lived in for the past three years. I took this as I was coming back from Brit Lit class.


4. This is my very small refrigerator that has more water than food. I was trying to choose something to eat before work. I ended up eating a sandwich.


5. And it's time to head to work. But first, I must go to the post office. This is a picture of one of the trees I see from the first crosswalk I take to work.


6. This is my cash register at work with all its bright colorful buttons. I work at the convenience store on my campus 4 days a week. I've worked there for the last 5 semesters. This was a particularly slow day.


7. Because it was so slow, I was able to do quite a bit of studying at work. Here, I'm reading some F. Scott Fitzgerald for my Modern American Lit course. Notice the beautiful ring my Mam got me last weekend.


8. After finishing my required reading for Modern American Lit and American Lit to 1865, I started rewriting the History of the English Language notes I took yesterday. And yes, I realize that I am a nerd.


9. Okay, usually, I don't take notice of the trash can/ashtrays on campus, but this one caught my eye. Perhaps it was because there was a little bottle of McCormick's Mint Extract resting among the cigarette butts. What is that about?!?

Also, as I was walking home, this kid was listening to some mp3 player and singing quietly and very squeakily to a hard core rock song. It was hysterical. I would have taken a picture of this kid, but I didn't want him to think I was some sort of crazy taking pictures of strangers and whatnot.


10. The great door to my dorm room! Such a lovely sight to behold at the end of a long day. The "I <3 Jim" and the "tk's workspace" are little shrines to the television show, The Office.


11. Of course, there is the unhappy sight of the "Things Due" list and calendar to greet me once I get that door open.


12. And the unhappy continues with me sitting down to read this horrid book for Young Adult Lit. Blah.

That's my day. The end.

Lame Excuses and Stalkers Galore

So, former Representative Mark Foley takes full responsibility for his behavior to the male pages. But first, he has to acknowledge that he was molested by a clergyman as a youth.

Let's insert a major rolling of the eyes here, shall we?

Marky, Marky, Mark. Haven't you heard? Confessing that you were molested by a clergyman is so 2002! I'm sure you could come up with a better excuse. We've all heard that excuse and wah! Wah, wah, wah! Just because something happened to you doesn't mean you have to do it to someone else, nor does it make it okay. The content of those messages could make a sailor blush! I mean, seriously. I'm sure the writer of those messages could come up with a far better, less boring excuse.

Foley's lawyer presented this molestation information. He also mentioned that Foley is gay. This, according to Thomas Paine, would be known as heresay. We're hearing about Foley via a secondary source and not from Foley himself. This lawyer could be making up stuff willy-nilly.

The heresay business isn't what bothers me. It's just the darn lack of an original excuse. I mean, if you come up with an original excuse, that's what people will remember the most. They won't remember that you mentally assaulted teenage boys with sexual messages. They'll remember the wild and crazy excuse you gave.

Like my excuse for no longer watching Nip/Tuck, a show that I adored in its infancy. Of course, the show has lost its way in my eyes and gone a little crazy, but I was ready to give the show a new chance. Until...

I watched tonight's episode. In the first five minutes, I learned something from one of the episodes I had missed. The kid of Christian that was raised by Sean that looks frightningly like Michael Jackson? He's all in need of help and stuff. And he's found something to help him: Scientology.

Damn you, Tom Cruise! Can't you leave me alone for once? Everywhere I go, there you are, jumping up and down and preaching about your Scientology or boasting about your fake baby or the Joey Potter you brainwashed.

Seriously, just leave me alone, Tom Cruise. Go bother Mr. Foley and teach him to come up with a better excuse.

Your Heart Must Be Tired

I've spent the last few days listening to Sanders Bohlke's "Your Heart Must Be Tired" on repeat. I've been singing it, humming it, muttering it everywhere I go.

I think my heart must be tired.

Well, your eyes are weary
And your face is long
And so is the road
You've been travelin' along...

And when the rain starts pouring on
Your heavy heart is beating strong

Well, your faith, it is fragile
And your tears are all gone
Because you cried like somebody
Been loving you wrong
You've slept with lions
And weathered the storm

Oh, your heart must be tired
Because you've been crying too much

You've been crying too much

Just a note: these aren't the entire lyrics... just the ones I keep repeating.

Words, Words, and More Words

I have to write a majillion and one things in the next three weeks. Or the next two. I don't know anymore. There's too much to remember... and to write.

I'm beginning to have a strong dislike of words, which is not good, seeing as how I want to go into publishing.

Do you want to know what I'm up against? Do you?

Sept 29 -- Brit Lit paper (approximately 1600 words)
Oct 4 -- Literary Analysis for Young Adult Lit.
Oct 6 -- American Lit to 1865 essay
Oct 20 -- Modern American Lit essay

This list does not take into account midterms and other tests that fall in between the papers. For instance,

Sept 29 - American Lit to 1865 test
Oct 9 - Young Adult Lit midterm
Oct 10 - History of English Language test
Oct 17 - Brit Lit midterm

This does not take in to account all the readings that I have to do between each class. I will not list them because I do not wish to have a heart attack at such a young age.

I Want...

I want...

*grad school to be free to those that really, really want to go (i.e., me).

*kids to stop speaking up in class when they are accustomed to using words such as "like", "uh", "you know", etc. You sound dumb. I do not want to listen to dumb people. If I wanted to listen to dumb people, I would actively seek out dumb people.

*to make the best grades I can possibly make this semester.

*to survive this semester and the massive reading I have to do.

*to see people I don't get to se very often more often.

*to get into Emerson.

*to have pancakes or French toast for breakfast.

*to go to Boston over Spring Break!

*Britney Spears to bound and gag Kevin Federline. The man is everywhere. He sings. He acts. He produces offspring at an alarming rate. He needs to be stopped.

*people to have money for things that people desperately need.

*cold weather so I can wear my new peacoat!

*to see Zach Braff's new movie.

*my suite bathroom to magically clean itself over the weekend while I'm gone. I don't want to have to clean the darn thing again.

*Lindsay Lohan to wear underclothes. I am tired of seeing things that I'm not meant to see!

*someone to write my essay for me, so I don't have to write it! I'm lazy!

Hand in the Cookie Jar

There has been a reversal of roles this semester. Amanda, the ever diligent studier, is slacking off in her studying duties. Perhaps this is because she has been taking 18 hours a semester for the last 6 semesters. She is beaten, tired, and down-trodden. She has worked too much in this school businses. And now, she has started doing less and less work. She is no longer her workful self.

Usually, it is me that has problems with procrastination and not working in general. But this semester, I have really buckled down. I have stayed on top of all my readings, despite four literature classes. And I pray that I continue with this fervor.

Today, I told Amanda that she was not to be on the computer when I got home from work. She has four tests this week. She must study for these tests. And so, in addition, I told her that the only time she could play on her computer was during House. She was allowed a one hour break to watch House.

So, five minutes after House goes off, I bebop into her room. As I open the door, she quickly closes her laptop and jumps away from the computer --- like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar!!

The look on Amanda's face after she realized what she'd done... it was priceless. Just a truly hysterical situation. I'm still laughing.

Deep Thoughts

Ever read The Outsiders? The narrator is named Ponyboy Curtis. His parents named him that at birth. But what happens when Ponyboy becomes a man? Does his name change? Does he become Ponyman? Perhaps his parents should have named him Ponyguy to alleviate the confusion.

* * *
There are pictures of Suri Cruise. She looks exactly like Tom Cruise. I'm still not convinced that she's real. However, I'm not sure that Vanity Fair is in the practice of putting imagined images on their cover. And why would they devote 22 pages to the little tyke if she's not real? Have you seen the picture? She looks like she's wearing a wig! I've never seen a four-month-old with that much hair. Something still isn't right.

* * *
Fergie, I told you to stop making horrible music with your group, The Black-Eyed Peas. This does not give you permission to go off and create a solo album. For crying out loud, no one wants to hear you sing about obscene things. And by no one, I mean me. I speak for the world on this one.

Your damn "London Bridge" song is horrendous. It is worse than Gwen Stefani's "Hollaback Girl" (although, I'm still not sure what a "hollaback girl" is). I don't understand why you can't pick up some duct tape and tape your mouth shut. I mean, if you did that, we'd be forced to award you a Nobel Peace Prize. Think about it, Fergie. You'll be known forever as one of the few, the proud, the Nobel Peace Prize winners. As it stands right now, people are going to forget you and your crap songs. They're worthless, ugly, and incredibly idiotic. All of this equals forgotten!

* * *

A Ticket to Hell? No, Thanks. I've Already Purchased One....

So, it's offical. I am going to Hell. I am going to spend whatever afterlife there is burning in eternal damnation.

Why, might you ask? Why would someone as sweet and innocent as myself be doomed to a fiery existence?

Well, it's simple. I laughed hysterically for hours on end yesterday. And I'm still laughing.

I'm sure you're asking yourself what could be so hysterically funny to cause me to laugh myself into Hell. It's a very good question. One I am sure that I would ask, if I were you.

Steve Irwin died yesterday. The 'Crocodile Hunter' bit the dust. And not by a crocodile, surprisingly; I was sure that he was going to meet his death by some angry croc. Instead, he died in a "freak" accident: a sting-ray barbed him.

Apparently, sting-rays aren't aggressive. According to reports, Mr. Crocodile Hunter was "interacting" with the sting-ray when the animal used its defense mechanism and shot a pointy, poisoned barb into his chest.

Of course, this brings up a crazy question: How does one "interact" with a sting-ray? Was Irwin carrying on a conversation with the sting-ray? Were they on their way to some underwater, open-ocean market? Were they playing tag? Was Irwin hounding the sting-ray like the paparazzi hound stars of all shapes and sizes? And finally, the sting-ray just snapped like Cameron Diaz and flipped Irwin off?

Anyway, Irwin died.

And it is sad that he died, but I still laughed. I realize that laughing at someone's death is evil, but I'm telling you, he asked for it. He has aggravated animals for years! Those animals have been jumped on, poked, prodded, and harassed to the fullest extent. They've even had fresh baby meat dangled in front of them. In a word, they've been tortured. Mother Nature finally struck back.

She does this, when she gets all angry about things. It is best to leave Mother Nature the eff alone.

A Slow, Painful Death

School is slowly killing me. I've had 4 days of classes, and, yet, I already want to gouge my eyes out with the nearest sharp, pointy object. This semester does not bode well for tkra. She shan't survive to her graduation day. If, by some crazy chance, she happens to survive and graduate, her date of projected graduation is May 12. The May 12th that is, like, less than 9 months away.

Taking four literature classes in one semester is a huge mistake. An extreme no-no of unexplainable proportions. Don't do it. Ever.

Although I am thoroughly unhappy with schoolwork at the moment, I am utterly in love with Joshua Radin. His music is so prettyful and makes me happy. Just take a look at the lyrics of the following song. It's pure magic, I tell you! Magic! Thank you, Zach Braff, for recommending him to me!

Note: This is just a snippet of the Joshua Radin song, "The Fear You Won't Fall."

I know you're scared,
That I'll soon be over it,
That's part of it all,
Part of the beauty,
Of falling in love with you,
Is the fear that you won't fall,

It hasn't felt like this before,
It hasn't felt like home for you,

And I know it's easy to say,
But it's harder to feel this way,
I miss you more than I should,
Than I thought I could,
Can't get my mind off of you,

And I hate the phone,
But I wish you'd call,
Thought being alone,
Was better than,
Was better than,

And I know it's easy to say,
But it's harder to feel this way

Back to School

It's that time again. Local stores have had their school supply aisles stocked and at the ready since mid-July. Excited parents have stalked up and down these aisles, dragging their children along behind them. The eager kids have helped destroy the aisles with their parents. The unhappy back-to-schoolers have poked listlessly at items pushed upon them by their parents.

And I have been down these aisles many a time, smelling crayons here and fondling loose-leaf paper there. I have been known to caress my favorite pens and leap with joy at the finding of Mr. Sketch markers. What can I say? I am a lover of school supplies and school in general.

What I do not love is having some crazy in three of my five classes. I take that back. He may or may not be crazy. I don't know the kid personally. I do know that the kid creeps me out and enjoys creeping others out. I've mentioned this child before. He is the one, the only Cape Boy.

Wednesday morning, I breeze into my first classroom (somewhat) ready for the new year. And two feet in the classroom, I stop. There he is. Cape Boy in his crazy long cape and his unwashed, unkempt hair.

I had to force myself to walk across the room. I was thisclose to running out. But I didn't. I went in there and had a lovely class.

After my first class, I proceeded to my second MWF class. I finish this class and remain in my seat because my next class is in the same room. I'm sitting there, organizing my notes, sipping some water, the usual in-between classness...

And in walks Cape Boy. Shoot me in the face. He sits down beside me. Oh, boy, someone really needs to shoot me in the face. After a few minutes of contemplation, CB gets up and decides he wants to sit in the seat directly behind me. Okay. Gun, please? Shoot me in the face. Now.

The entire class I just knew he was stealing hairs from my head to make some sort of voodoo hair doll. I try to remain calm. I tell myself that there is only one more class to sit through after this third one. And thankfully, CB is not in the fourth class. I breath a sigh of relief that I'll only have to see him 3 days a week.

Then, I walk into my Tuesday/Thursday class. Peek-a-boo. Guess who??

What the hell does he think he's doing? Is he stalking me? Because I know that he's a sophomore. These courses are upper-level courses. There's no way he could have satisfied all the prerequisites for this class. There is something seriously sinister and wrong. I don't like it at all.

If I should disappear for some great period of time, someone should check Cape Boy's secret lair. I'm sure he'll have me stashed away near some shrine of tk or something.

I seriously need to take up jujitsu or karate. Something martial artsy.

A Crazy Weirdo Tried to Kidnap Me!

I was almost kidnapped yesterday.

Well, not really. But I was practically assaulted by some weirdo at Wal-Mart. And he wasn't just your run-of-the-mill weirdo. He was one of those super scary, make-you-want-to-curl-up-in-the-fetal-position-and-cry-out-for-your-mommy weirdos. My heart was just paralyzed in absolute fear.

I was standing there, making eye contact, alerting this guy to the fact that I'm aware he's a weirdo that he's attempting crazy voodoo. But I think he was so strung out on drugs that he didn't realize or he didn't care.

At first, he nearly ran me over. After that abrupt meeting, he began to follow me, asking me questions about when school started and if I had any children. Finally, a manager came up and asked him if he was harassing people. He denied harassment and scurried off in the direction of the door, sneaking looks over his shoulder every couple of feet.

It was truly bizarre. And extremely frightening.

So, beware of the heat. It brings out the crazy weirdos.

Me? Loser?

Yes, I am a loser.

Okay, I'm not a loser. But I am a quitter. I'm quitting. And I don't care who knows it. Three weeks and I'm done. Finished. The End. Goodbye.

Despite the excitement of leaving a place that has caused me so much misery, I am sad to be leaving several people, especially Becky and Billy. I can't name the third person without revealing her full name. I'm not sure she'd like her name to be plastered all over creation via a blog entry. And so, she will remain anonymous.

But anyway. They're definitely kickass individuals. I'm glad that I got to work with them, even for a short while. I will miss them more than they'll ever know.

Sadness. I think I'll go listen to some Sanders Bohlke and cry a little. Crying is good for the soul.

And so is Sanders Bohlke. Everyone should check him out.

Nite Fight

It's irritating. Truly.

I hate it when people spell words incorrectly. But it really bothers me when they spell words incorrectly on purpose. You know, where they change the spelling of a word because it's "cute" or some other stupid reason? For example, there's a convenience store chain known as the Kum-N-Go when it should be Come-and-Go. Or when someone is chatting online and instead of using something, they type out sumthin. The list goes on.

Really. It's endless.

But perhaps the one I hate the most is when people use nite for night. There's Nick-at-Nite. A local bar offering karaoke tonite. A trucking company known as Over-Nite.

I once tried to count how many times nite was used in place of night. I lost count after 20 sightings in less than 3 hours.

Is it so hard to spell a word correctly? To stick in that one little letter? I just don't understand why the proper spelling of a word is frequently belittled and replaced with non-standard, poorly spelled substitutes.

It's highly unnecessary and wrong.

In other, unrelated, rants, has anyone heard Lonestar's cover of Marc Cohn's Walking in Memphis?? It sucks. Major. The arrangement is hideous and the vocals aren't that great.

Why do people take other people's work and butcher it?

Perhaps that is a rant for another day.

People Don't Like You??? Use ProActiv!

Ever hear of ProActiv?

I'm sure you have. Some alleged acne miracle used by celebrities like Jessica Simpson, Alicia Keyes, Kelly Clarkson, and P.Diddy. There are always commercials and infomercials playing on television and there's usually advertisements throughout magazines and newspapers.

One late night, an infomercial for ProActiv came on. Tired and unmotivated to change the channel, I just kept the television on while I spent some time unwinding on the internet. I'm not even paying attention.... but then, I hear this:

ProActiv got people to like me again!

What? Excuse me? I don't quite understand. People didn't like you before you used ProActiv? They didn't like you because your face was covered in acne? Is that what you're saying??

Apparently, it was. This girl continued to gush about how ProActiv gave people a reason to like her again.

I'm sorry, but that's just so wrong. There are just so many things wrong with this child's way of thinking that I cannot even begin to discuss them. But this child believes that ProActiv saved her life by helping people to like her.

ProActiv. It's a magical solution created by two dermatologists that lures people into liking you.

That should be their new slogan.

Quotations for Sale

"Where you used to be, there is a hole in the world, which I find myself constantly walking around in the daytime, and falling in at night. I miss you like hell."
--Edna St. Vincent Millay

"Nothing takes the taste out of peanut butter quite like unrequited love."
--Charlie Brown

"Life has taught us that love does not consist in gazing at each other but in looking outward together in the same direction."
--Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, Wind, Sand and Stars

"To live is so startling it leaves little time for anything else."
--Emily Dickinson

You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes.
You can steer yourself in any direction you choose.
You're on your own.
And you know what you know.
You are the guy who'll decide where to go.
--Dr. Seuss

"I love thee to the depth and breadth and height my soul can reach."
--Elizabeth Barrett Browning

"Most people are other people. Their thoughts are someone else's opinions, their lives a mimicry, their passions a quotation."
--Oscar Wilde, De Profundis


Tell me how many beads there are
In a silver chain
Of evening rain,
Unravelled from the tumbling main,
And threading the eye of a yellow star: -
So many times do I love again.
--Thomas Lovell Beddoes


"Grown-ups never understand anything for themselves, and it is tiresome for children to be always and forever explaining things to them."
--Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince

"Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same."
--Emily Brontë

"Do not the most moving moments of our lives find us without words?"
--Marcel Marceau

"I keep my ideals, because in spite of everything,
I still believe that people are really good at heart."
--Anne Frank

"In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: It goes on."
--Robert Frost

"A lady's imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony, in a moment."
--Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice

"To die will be an awfully big adventure."
--J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan

"The Possible's slow fuse is lit
By the Imagination."
--Emily Dickinson

“There is no use in trying,” said Alice;
“one can’t believe impossible things.”
“I dare say you haven’t had much practice,”
said the Queen. “When I was your age,
I always did it for half an hour a day.
Why, sometimes I’ve believed as many as
six impossible things before breakfast."
--Lewis Carroll

"You see, Wendy, when the first baby laughed for the first time, its laugh broke into a thousand pieces, and they all went skipping about, and that was the beginning of fairies."
--J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan

"I'll tell you how the sun rose -
one ribbon at a time."
--Emily Dickinson

American Idol: A Serious Problem

So, I'm glad Taylor won American Idol. I certainly didn't want Katharine McPhee winning it. I still wish Elliott Yamin would have won. He deserved it. I'm quite proud of that kiddo. Go Elliott!!

Although... Taylor and his random screaming of "Soul Patrol" was really beginning to get on my last nerve.

Anyhow, this concludes my first and last season of American Idol. I will not be watching it again. I have several reasons for not watching it in the future. First, it interferes with other shows and I will not have access to a DVR. Second, I would like to have control of my life instead of spending hours voting each week. I do have things I need to do, you know. Third, it really angers me that more people vote for American Idol than for the president of their freakin' country! That's ridiculous. And fourth, I've decided that the show is rigged. So, there you go.

But let's dart back to reason three, shall we? How can we increase voter turn-out for important elections? You know, the kind of elections where we choose someone to run our national and state governments? The kind of elections that have more of an impact on our lives than American Idol, or at least should have more of an impact. For whatever reason, the important elections are often overshadowed by the election of a new American Idol.

Should we start offering phone voting for official elections? Would that increase voter turn-out? Should we make the presidential race into a reality television series? Perhaps that would increase voter turn-out as well.

I mean, this is a serious problem!

An Amended Order to Cease and Desist

This is an addition the original Order to Cease and Desist created a few months ago.

1. Tom Cruise - Dude, you have got to stop. Like, absolutely stop everything you're doing. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200. Just stop. Stop jumping on couches. Stop changing people's names. Stop shoving Scientology in people's faces. Stop trying to take over the freakin' world. Just stop. Do not make any more movies or public appearances. S. T. O. P. Please, go shack up with your religion under the nearest rock and stay there.


2. JJ Abrams - Oh, dear JJ, I used to love and adore you so much. And then, you failed me. Stop creating new television shows willy-nilly. Stop using your television shows to influence major motion pictures, like Mission Impossible: 3, or your other television shows, like Lost. While I have not personally viewed MI:3, which is something I never plan to do, as it stars the aforementioned Tom Cruise, I have heard< from several individuals that it is one huge Alias fest. Now, while I love Alias, Mission Impossible is its own franchise. Just because you're the director does not mean you can add 47s, Rambaldi-related information, and other Alias influences into the film. Was Alias apart of the original Mission Impossible back in the day? No. It wasn't. And what is with the influence of Alias on Lost? I mean, hello!?! These people are lost on a freakin' island. They're not spies nor do they know a thing about being spy-like. Dude, just come up with some original ideas. Stop rehashing the same ideas in different mediums.


3. Simon Cowell - Okay, I usually support your opinions in regards to the American Idol competition. But lately? You're freakin' rude. I understand you're British and that the British are sometimes perceived as rude. But Peter, Paul, and Mary! Was there a reason to put down Elliott Yamin like that this evening? You completely patronized the poor guy! And he certainly doesn't need your patronizing, condescending attitude. I can even begin to describe how badly you need to stop what you're doing.

Again, I reserve the right to add to this list at any time.

A Noose? Why, Yes, Please! Part II

When we left our darling misfits and their rescuer, they were taking the scenic route through the Memphis ghetto. Not just your average ghetto, mind you-- apparently, it is the ghetto of the ghetto.

After rumbling through the ghetto, the gang returned to the rescuer's apartment. Soaked, sleepy, and stinky, they exit the vehicle to the rescuer's cry of, "Do you still have my key??"

The Knight-In-Sneakers-and-Shorts had left his apartment key for his sister. But, instead of his sister finding it, the cats set up an impromptu game of hockey and used the key for a puck!

And so, the soaked, sleepy, and stinky children were locked out of their rescuer's apartment.

Noose? Anyone?

After their harrowing day, the children were finally able to leave the Memphis area at 6pm, five hours later than they'd planned. Their truck was outfitted with a new fuel pump and a serpentine belt. They lived happily ever after in their slightly less soaked, sleepy, and stinky existence.

The End.

A Noose? Why, Yes, Please!!

So, some kids wake up one morning and decide to return home after a fairly impromptu roadtrip to Memphis. The day starts out okay. It started off with a wee bit of truck trouble and some Chick-Fil-A. These kids jump on 240 West and head in the direction of home. The sky ahead was a very black and ominously eerie, but the three cool cats kept on truckin'.

Until.....

the truck loses power. Loses POWER! The shocked kiddos coast to the side of the highway and commence the hysterics. Well, not really. The kids stayed pretty calm at first, especially seeing how two of the three went through the same exact symptoms with a familiar red truck not four days earlier. And the little red truck had to be pushed off the road.

But anyway. Back to the truck at hand.

The kids call for back-up. The rain begins to fall. And as it turns out, back-up would not be found easily. The hysterics ensue for two of the kids. Now, keep in mind, these two kids have had a rough couple of days. So, after a few minutes, when back-up has been assured and officially called, the kids await for their Knight-In-Sneakers-And-Shorts.

Help arrives in his chariot. Unfortunately, the chariot encounters a flat tire just as the Knight arrives. The rain continues to fall in very hard, very loud sheets of madness. The kids jump out to meet their rescuer and watch as the tire is changed with a spare. In the freakin' rain.

Again, the issue of the rain must be pointed out for all to recognize and take note of.

Then, the kids await the arrival of Mr. Tow Truck. He arrives and one of the kids is whisked away inside the tow truck with a very bearded, slightly scary man. The other two kids stand guard as the first kid fills out the necessary paperwork.

Finally, the drenched kids are taken away in the chariot. But instead of being taken to a safe, dry place, the kids are treated to a view of some ghetto named after a color of sorts.

Will the kids survive the colorful ghetto?? Will they even make it home?? And will the two kids who are down-on-their-luck with vehicles ever drive again?!

Tune in for the next installment of A Noose? Why, Yes, Please!!

Dead. As A Door Nail.

I just churned out a 10 page paper.

Eight pages of that paper were produced in the last 4 hours. Oh, the joys of being an English major.

My brain seriously mushed beyond repair. Like, I may need a brain transplant. Seriously.

Now, all I have to do is two French compositions, a chapter in my French notebook, and two finals. Then, I'm officially a senior.

I'm free!!!!!!!!!!

Bring On the Weird!

So, TomKitten has arrived. The world will be ending in 3...2...1...

I'm thoroughly disappointed. Although, I'm still not sure I believe that there is an actual baby. Sure, there are reports saying that Baby Suri was born yesterday and that TomKat "joyously" welcomed her arrival. And Katie has been looking fairly large lately. But it still seems like some big publicity stunt.

Until there is a paternity/maternity test done on the child to prove that it is the spawn of TomKat, I'm not going to believe it.

I'll just think of the baby as another poor, little adopted child Tom Cruisazy has added to his brood.

* * *

Cape Boy has been out in full force these last two days. And, for whatever reason, I seem to always run smack into him. These days, he's sporting a new cape. This one is long, black, and floor-length and it has... wait for it... a HOOD. Yesterday, he had this stupid cape on in the 90+ degree weather.

Picture this.... it's a nice, extremely warm spring day. You're walking across your beautiful campus to your intended destination when you see something that causes your breath to catch in your throat. Fear overtakes your body as you stare at the Ringwraith floating across the path in front of you.

Yes. A Ringwraith.

When Squirrels Attack, Part Deux

Do you remember this??

Today, I was walking back from Research Methods. Under the exact same tree as the acorn-dropping incident, there sat a little squirrel. This rodent was furiously burying something. I don't know what he was burying nor do I really care. But when I came upon him, he turned and glared at me.

I was about two feet away from him. I just looked at him as I walked past him. When I got about a foot or so in front of him, I turned my head.

That's when I hear it. The scamper, scamper, scamper of a squirrel in attack mode.

I quickly look behind me and there he is! Right on my heels! Chasing me!! He chased me for a good five feet before another little squirrel happened by his hidey-hole. That's when he stopped chasing me to defend his "treasure" from another "enemy."

I just kept thinking... I do NOT want a rabies shot!

Frightened Beyond Belief

Do not venture into an establishment called Chuck E. Cheese. I am telling you this for the safety of your immune system and your sanity.

Do not enter!

I willingly went into a local Chuck E. Cheese for a cousin's birthday party. It had been 14 years since my last venture into such a place. I have never been more frightened in my life.

I kid you not.

There were all these kids running around, squealing and screaming, placing their sticky, pizza-greased hands all over the place. In the back, there were six birthday parties going on, complete with a band composed of a purple fuzz ball, an overall-clothed dog, a pizza chef, a rodent, and a something-or-other that resembled a large Furby. Accompanying the awful warbling of these scary machines, there were these employees that were leading a gaggle of children in nonsensical dances and other weird games.

It was really just too much.

I was only there for thirty minutes. And believe me, it was thirty minutes too long. I am traumatized beyond belief. I think that I could be mugged and be less frightened.

I wish never to set foot in a Chuck E. Cheese again.

The Black Lung, Or Something Like It

I woke up this morning with the Black Lung. Though I have never been in the mining industry, or any industry for that matter, I have lung that's as black as night.

Okay, so maybe it's not the Black Lung. It's just Normal Lung with congestion. So sue me. I'm all cough-y, cough-y, which is unnecessary and embarrassing. I do not enjoy disrupting the surrounding environment because my lung feels the need to come out my mouth.

Ever wonder how far you'd go to keep someone you love out of harm's way? Would you stab someone to cover up a murder that your child committed, hoping that the stab wound would make others disregard some of the evidence?

Think about that for a while. And stay out of coal mines.

Life is Wonderful!

So, I got back two extremely important assignments that I worked incredibly hard on before spring break.


One is worth 40% of my grade this semester. The other assignment is for a quite demanding professor (demanding as in he makes you work for your grade, not that he demands crazy things like a dictator does).


Anyhow. Let's just say that I've been singing a chorus from a Jason Mraz song all day.


La la la la la la la life is wonderful
Ah la la la la la la life is full circle
Ah la la la la la la life is wonderful
Al la la la la

Poor, Unfortunate Me

I have just found out that I share a birthday with Kevin Federline.

Kevin Federline.

I was born on the same freakin' day as Kevin Federline.

Britney's skanky, lazy ass husband. Kevin freakin' Federline!

I don't even know what to do with myself. I feel as though I should fling myself off the nearest cliff before day break.

My once wonderful date of birth is now ruined, all because I have to share it with Kevin Federline!

I think I'm going to be sick.

Impending Doom Lurks Ahead

So, I caught an episode of One Tree Hill tonight for the first time... in, like, a year. It's a bit soap opera-y, but the show does have some excellent quotes from time to time. The episode I watched tonight was very thought provoking.

"Does this darkness have a name? This cruelty, this hatred. How did it find us? Did it steal into our lives or did we seek it out and embrace it? What happened to us? That we now send our children into the world like we send young men into war, hoping for their safe return. But knowing that some will be lost along the way. When did we lose our way? Consumed by the shadows, swallowed whole by the darkness. Does this darkness have a name? Is it your name?"

An Official Announcement

I'm marrying Jason Mraz. And there's nothing any one can do to stop me.

Well, except Jason, of course. A restraining order often gets in the way of a romance, you know.

Still, I have decided. My mind is made up. I am going to marry Jason Mraz.

Mark your calendars for the first week-end in Never.

And Then There Were Two

Two weeks ago, Nattybee and I were the proud parents of four goldfish: F.Scott, Layla, Spaz, and Oscar.

Notice the were.

Fast forward two weeks later and our quadruplet is down to a twosome.

Oscar bit the dust last Friday. Layla passed on yesterday. Both were the victims of an apparent gravel-choking.

Who would have thought that putting rocks in your mouth could lead to suffocation?

Drowned Rat

I woke up to a dreary morning. A dreary, damp morning. However, the fun was just beginning.

Cut to an hour later when I'm trucking it across campus in the pouring rain. This rain is brutal in its attack. My shoes started taking on water, which, of course, meant wet socks. There's nothing worse than wet socks. Then, my jeans began soaking up the rain and soon, from my knees down, my pants are soaked.

The rain is coming in all directions. Despite my umbrella, rain is reaching my face, my hair, my backpack full of precious homework that I worked on late into the night.

Giant puddles have sprung up everywhere. Only a small portion of sidewalk is not underwater. The entire campus became one gigantic muddy pond, with a scattering of buildings, trees, and automobiles sticking up here and there.

It was unnecessary. I mean, I nearly drowned. I was almost swept away into the dirty abyss just outside my classroom window.

It was completely unnecessary.

Injured By A Kiss

Once there was a rather clumsy girl who decided to walk across the living room to retrieve something. After grabbing the item she wanted, the girl then began to make her way back to her seat on the couch.

Suddenly, tragedy struck. The girl began to fly through the air. Thankfully, she was used to this sensation and tilted her body to miss smacking her head on the coffee table. Instead, she landed on the floor with a slight thump. She quickly looked around for the object that caused her tumble.

To her surprise, she found a Hershey's Kiss had caused her fall! She nearly had a concussion because of a small, silver-wrapped chocolate candy.

Of course, this does give new meaning to the phrase "death by chocolate."

Idolosity

Watching American Idol can lead to a myriad of thoughts in a short amount of time. Like:

* Okay, why did Bucky get a "You did awesome!" from the judges when Will didn't? What is up with that? I mean, I'm not usually a fan of Will's, but he really pulled it together this week. He wasn't being a show-off. He was excellent! I'm still surprised by his performance. Will's performance was completely unexpected for me. And those idiot judges told Bucky he performed better.
* Isn't Kevin the cutest? He's just so darn cute. I don't think they get any cuter than Kevin. And he's got such a lovely voice. Simon has to say he's not Idol material and stuff, but still. I think he is. American needs voices like Kevin's! They're better than voices like Clay, Ruben, or Fantasia's!
* Elliot's freakin' awesome. He's just awesome. He consistently knocks out the performances. He rocks.
* Randy is getting so annoying. What's with the stupid hooping and hollering? He's not Arsenio Hall for crying out loud!
* Ace is perhaps the most gorgeous person in the contest. He's just adorable. His performance was so-so last night (what possessed you to choose that song, Ace?!), but I still have faith in Ace.

And in completely unrelated Idol ramblings.... did everyone see Steven Hill last night?? I'm telling you, next year, Steven Hill is going to kick so much ass.

Just you wait and see.

Brokeback Something

Once upon a time, there were two men with a dilemma. One of the men owned a mule that was stubborn and subordinate. The two men thought long and hard about what they could do to make the mule come around.

One day, some random fellow offered up this little gem of advice: If you throw the mule down on the ground and roll all over it, it'll bond with you.

And so, the two men decided that would be their plan of action. The following Saturday, the two friends set out to throw the mule to the ground. Once they got the stubborn ass on the ground, they proceeded to roll all over it in an attempt to establish some sort of connection with the dumb thing.

The End.

Okay. What the crap? Who in their right mind would suggest that you should throw a mule to the ground and roll all over it? And who in their right mind would actually throw a mule to the ground and roll all over it??

Yes, the above story did occur.

Do you realize how rough it would be to wrestle a mule to the ground? Mules aren't the lightest pack animals, you know. It's a wonder these two didn't end up with broken backs or something.

The whole scenario reminds me of Brokeback Mountain.

I don't even know what else to say.

Fun With Alliterations

This week has been long, lackluster, and ludicrous.

On the bright side, my Dad had the wonderful Pepsi and a variety of cereal waiting on me when I returned home earlier today. Yay for Daddys!

But really. This week has sucked sufficiently so.

Although, I have been a bit ambitious this week. I started seriously looking into graduate schools. Yes, I realize that I am a nerd of gigantic proportions.

* * *

Is the mail-person required to come by your mailbox every day, Monday through Saturday? And what happens when they don't show? Do you call some Postal Police to spy on your mailbox and see if the mail-person really isn't coming to deliver or pick up mail?

How come the girls on American Idol sucked all kinds the other night? Katharine was the only girl who rocked it out. I was not impressed with the other girls. And how about that Ace? He's fantastic!

You know what else? Desire is a powerful thing.

Two hearts fading, like a flower.
And all this waiting, for the power.
For some answer, to this fire.
Sinking slowly.
The water’s higher.
Desire

With no secrets. No obsession.
This time I'm speeding with no direction.
Without a reason. What is this fire?
Burning slowly. My one and only.
Desire

You know me. You don't mind waiting.
You just can't show me, but God I'm praying,
That you'll find me, and that you'll see me,
That you run and never tire.
Desire

Desire -- Ryan Adams

Jesus, Take the Wheel....

A discussion about the slightly addicting Facebook commenced today in Tech Writing. Unfortunately, being the stellar student that I am, I was working and I did not hear all of the discussion. However, I did hear this comment by a fellow who effectively "quit" Facebook:

"I gave my life to Jesus and I got off of there."

Yes, boys and girls, this young fellow left the Facebook life behind in pursuit of, well, a life. He even "deactivated" his account. He deactivated his account. Can you believe it? And in order to have the strength to give up his Facebook addiction, he had to turn to Jesus. He had to be saved from Facebook by Jesus.

He then continued to whisper repeatedly throughout class to the girl ahead of him:

"Get your life back. Get your life back. Get your life back."

(Yes, he whispered it in three's. I don't know why he chose to do that. However, I do know that three is a magic number.)

Anyway, lesson learned:

Apparently, you can't give up Facebook without the help of Jesus.

An Order to Cease and Desist

This is an official order for the following people to cease and desist. Whatever you're doing or whatever you have been doing, you need to stop and move along. You are polluting an already polluted world and I will not tolerate such nonsense any longer.

1. Black Eyed Peas - This is your final warning. Any more songs about humps or other lovely lady lumps will result in some bad karma. Very bad karma.
2. Gwen Stefani - Just have your baby and quit singing ridiculous songs that end up nominated for the Grammys.
3. Mariah Carey - Shut the hell up already. And for the love of God, put some clothes on!
4. Chris Brown - I know you're new to the music scene and everything, but you're thoroughly annoying.
5. Shania Twain - Has anyone ever told you how annoying and awful your voice sounds?
6. Britney Spears - Okay, lesson learned: we don't drive around with our kiddos unrestrained on our laps. However, you need to take a bath before you go out in public. And please, brush your teeth and comb your hair. And NEVER walk barefoot through a public restroom. That is all kinds of unsanitary.
7. Kevin Federline - You're an idiot. Perhaps the smartest idiot alive, but an idiot nonetheless. And your new song? It sucks.
8. Tara Reid - I don't even know what to say to you. Just stay at home, out of sight, for the rest of your life.
9. Derrell and Terrell Brittenum (from American Idol 5) - You guys think you're all that and a bag of whatever's popular at the time. You're not. You don't have wonderful singing voices. And don't dis Carrie Underwood. She's got a voice. You do not.
10. Paris Hilton - Just shut up and stay home. No more saying "That's hot!" or anything else unintelligent. Or starting feuds, losing your Sidekick, or adopting animals that aren't meant to be adopted and toted around all over creation.

This is not a complete listing of those needing to cease and desist. I reserve the right to add or make changes to the list whenever I so choose.

Random Observations

Monday
"Oh, heck. She's not here." -- Some guy that came into the store when I wasn't working. I have no idea who this fellow was or why he left so quickly after learning I was not at work. Strange.

Tuesday
"You know, Coke shouldn't be the sponser for American Idol. It should be Excedrin Migraine or something to do with headache relief." -- Me, after watching some of the awful contestants on Idol

Wednesday
"I hate to buy this [Mello Yello]. But when I study calculus, I have to have Mello Yello and PEA-nuts." -- Some geeky kid, with an unbelievably nasal and squeaky voice.

Thursday
*clears throat*
"How was your day?" -- A seemingly shy guy who wandered into the store late that afternoon.

Saturday
"We went to McDonald's last night and ordered 20 cheeseburgers!" -- Four high school kiddies who were determined to tell me about the adventures they had the previous evening.

Steven Hill, you rock my socks off! Hill is the best! 51 is the best number ever!

What Is WRONG With These People?

So, I hear a news report today about some very intelligent people who feel it's necessary to skin a dog alive. A sick person with horrible manners took a poor innocent dog's skin away from the animal while the dog was still alive. When the authorities found it, they had to put it to sleep because the dog was in so much pain.

What. The. Crap.

The poor victimized puppy was a beagle! A beagle that made its way home after it was brutally skinned like a wild buffalo!

Who does that?

And in addition to the beagle, two other dogs, a cat, four goats, and a cow have been ritualistically slaughtered. These animals weren't killed to provide sustenance of any kind. They were just rudely and horribly tortured and left to die.

This is absolutely disgusting. I don't understand why people do such things.

Let's think about this. Perhaps, poor Beagle-Puppy aggravated the Animal Slaughter-ers. There's a lot of people who aggravate me, but you don't see me going around skinning and slaughtering people left and right.

It's bad manners.

"You Know What I Mean?"

No. I don't know what you mean. I don't know you at all. And for some reason, I think that I would have to know you somewhat to know what you mean.

And I can tell from the slightly blank look in your eyes that you hardly have a clue what you mean. You're just asking everyone else if they know what you mean as a filler phrase in intelligent conversation.

But if every three words is punctuated with a "You know what I mean?," how intelligent is the brain that is lurking in your skull?

So, no, I don't know what you mean. I do know that you're always talking about things you find intellectually stimulating. This does not mean that the rest of us think in the same manner as you think. I also know that it's only been three classes and already, I want to strangle myself.

"Blah, blah, blah. Blah, blah, blah, blah-blah. Blah blah. Blah-bitty-blah-blah-blah. You know what I mean??"

Adventures in French Class

Alana: "Your jeans are cute."

Rindy: "Thanks. Your face is cute."

Random is the Way to Be!

The first week of the semester has come and gone. Things seem promising.

Of course, things would appear a lot more promising if I wasn't so tired. Sleep has not come easy this week.

Don't give up on something you really want. But if it's not something you really want, and it's making you miserable, why are you doing it? Stop! Cease and desist! Spend your days doing things that bring you some amount of enjoyment. Otherwise, what's the point in living?

Life is hard enough as it is. Leading a miserable life when you have the power to change the misery into something good is ridiculous. You're just making things harder on yourself.

Sigh. I miss sleep.

I miss. . .

The Return of Evil

Cape Boy has returned.

No, he's not in one of my classes. But he almost was. Or rather, I was almost in a class that he is taking this semester.

I am so glad that I decided to change my major!

I could not have tolerated another semester with Cape Boy. Especially since I have decided that his extracurricular activities involve first-degree murder.

(Of course, I have zero evidence to back up that particular theory. I am, however, waiting for the evidence to present itself, which it will in due time.)

Holy Mackeral! What if he took that class because he thought I would be taking it???

Cape Boy is stalking me!

Wait

"Wait!"

She willed her legs to run faster. She had to catch up to him.

"Wait up!"

Her voice was hoarse and broken, tired from crying out every few seconds. She cleared her throat and tried again.

"Wait up! Please!"

But he couldn't hear her calls.

She continued to run after him, but it was useless. With every stride she took, he only got farther and farther away.

"Wait!"

Her clumsiness made its appearance and she stumbled across the asphalt before falling onto the roadway. She groaned, lifted her head off the ground and looked ahead.

He never even turned around.

She was pitiful. A pathetic child chasing after a grown man who didn't give a damn about her. She was pining for a man who didn't even know she existed. She was wasting her time on someone who would never love her the way that she loved him.

But was it love? Did she love him? She wasn't sure.

She watched him as he got smaller and smaller on the horizon. Then, she rested her forehead against the asphalt as the tears began to fall.

"Please," she whispered. "Don't give up on me."

Decisions, Decisions. . .

I'm going to make a life-altering decision.

And I feel pretty good about the decision I'm making.

Let's see where this decision takes me!

How Everywhere Is Everywhere??

Starting everywhere this Friday.

In theaters everywhere.

I hear variations of those two sentences all the time, usually after a movie trailer airs on television. But just how everywhere is everywhere?

The Movie-Voice-Over-Person says that this film will be showing everywhere or is already showing everywhere. But is it really showing everywhere? Half the time they say that, I never see the movie being shown anywhere near me.

Webster defines everywhere as being "in every place or part."

So, how can they say that a movie is being shown everywhere, when it's clearly not being shown everywhere. That sounds like false advertisement to me. Shouldn't they be forced to say, In theaters in a Major Metropolitan Area Near You?

Sure, it doesn't roll off the tongue as easily as In theaters everywhere. But it's correct! And isn't that what it's all about, people? There's always some group protesting that they want things to be correct in society.

Something needs to be done. When I see a movie trailer proclaiming In theaters everywhere, I expect to be able to see that movie anywhere I may be.

That's the whole point of everywhere.

New Year Blahs

So, it's official: 2006 has begun. And so far, it sucks just as much as 2005 did.

I guess that's not really a fair judgement. I mean, only two days have passed. There's still another 363 days left for 2006 to redeem itself.

It's probably too early to throw in the towel just yet.

* * *

From what I understand, Paris Hilton is terribly concerned about Nicole Richie's recent weight loss.

To this I say: "Yeah. Right." (Insert large, overlydramatic eyeroll here)

* * *

People drive me crazy.

Wait, let me rephrase: People that leave a path of destruction in their wake drive me crazy. Like, I'm-on-the-ceiling-hanging-upside-down-because-I've-already-climbed-the-walls-crazy.

I do not understand why someone would not pick up after themselves. It's common courtesy.

* * *

I also do not understand why someone insists on watching MTV at every possible chance. On occasion, I do watch MTV. But I don't watch it all the time. It's not the first channel I turn to upon finding the remote.

Shows like Room Raiders and NeXt only encourage the onslaught of talentless singers (MTV wannabes) who embarass everyone in the world with their cringe-worthy performances, full of horrendous lyrics and even more hideous music videos.

* * *

And why does VH1 have 1500 different I Love The ---- shows? There's I Love the 80s, I Love the 80s Strikes Back, I Love the 80s 3D, I Love the 90s, I Love the 90s Part Deux, I Love the 70s, I Love the Holidays . . .

These people love way too much. They don't need to be so "free" with their love. What's next? I Love Animals that Attack? I Love Serial Killers? I Love Fast Food Restaurants? I Love Cheesy Movies?

I should probably stop. I'm giving them ideas.