Monday, April 26, 2010

Boobquake Day!

Hello all, today is National Boobquake Day! Huzzah. This means that it is time to show the ta-tas in an attempt to create scientific results... or to disprove the idea that women's promiscuous fashion styles can create earthquakes. I prefer to think we can create natural disasters with our bodies alone. Because that's a freaking good story. Not such a good story? We cannot create earthquakes with our boobs. That's just a disappointment for everyone involved, so let's stick with the first one.

Friday, April 16, 2010

Worship, harbouring enemies and nocturnal-people.

Worship me, people-who-waste-time-sleeping.

Damn right I'm talking to you. I didn't sleep a wink last night and I have gotten more done before 8 this morning than I have the rest of the week combined.

I got an entire paper out of the way for next week, I got four boxes and two crates packed, I showered and I shaved everything this morning. Not only did I get those menial tasks done, but I also found out I have an amazing ability to style myself when I've gotten no sleep. No joke. I look adorable today. And I was showered and dressed by 5.30 a.m., time-wasters.

I am practically above and beyond human.
I'm pretty much inhuman.

I'm like a Vampire, y'all.

Except, I get super queasy around blood, so keep that shit away from me. For real.

I've only had one more giant spider incident, and one pathetic little beetle (who was nothing after those other beasts).

I think I might be getting past the whole situation entirely. Except I'm still carrying around my Home Defender spray like a life vest, and my flashlight is permanently stashed my pocket at all times - you never know when a dark shadowy area might be harbouring the enemy. Oh, and the whole not-sleeping-thing of course. That's probably not going to work forever, but I'm totally going home tomorrow. It's just when I come back to finish out the semester that I have a problem. Seriously, I'm going to have to forcibly throw myself into attempting sleep. What a waste of time.

I've obviously learned that I'm nocturnal, or else I would not have gotten all this crap done. For real, people, society needs to make the world a little more nocturnal-people-friendly.

That way I can actually get shit done.

Thursday, April 15, 2010

Hell beasts, hyperventilation and greatest fears confirmed.

The morning from Hell.

I mean that quite literally.

After having finally fallen asleep at 2 in-the-goddamn-A.M. I was awoken three minutes to 5 in-the-holy-hell-A.M. by the sensation that something was c-r-a-w-l-i-n-g on me. Oh gods. It turned out to be true! I have never moved so fast in my whole life! I was up, I had my Home Defender spray in my hand in seconds and I let loose on my couch like it was WWIII and that spider was the ENEMY! It was no small pin-sized beast either!

I am forever scarred. Forever. And ever and ever and ever.

Now I'm up, showered and dressed and it's not even 6. Holy hell. I don't have to be to class until 9. I'm so fucking hyped up on fear and adrenaline right now, people. I'm pretty sure this must be my ultimate fear/paranoia/scenario-where-I-die.

At this point, I wish I was on Xanax. Because I can't stop hyperventilating and I cannot pass out - I will not be unconscious again - ever.


Sunday, April 11, 2010

Engagement-ring heist, abnormality and social convention.

I've decided that trying to get into beach body condition is hard. I still feel flabtastic, but I also feel healthier, so I guess that's okay. And-

Wait a second - hold on -

OKAY. That's it people. If one more person I know gets engaged I'm going to go on an engagement-ring heist. Understand? For Pete's sake.


Okay. I'm done raving over that tidbit. Really. Sort of.

But it does seem as if everyone keeps telling me how natural, how normal it is for someone my age to be single. Then why, may I ask, is it that everyone else my age seems to be not only in a committed relationship, but also tying that oh-so-sacred knot as well? Are you honestly telling me that I'm the normal one and everyone else is abnormal? That seems a bit far fetched. And trust me, I love far fetched tales, but this one seems a bit stretched even for my tastes.

So world, I'm pretty sure that it's mostly abnormal for someone my age to be single - and to have been, for the most part, single for two years prior to this moment. Awesome.

Well, I guess I never have been one for maintaining social conventions. So this isn't anything terribly new for me. I suppose I will survive - survive right into my grey-cat-years, that is.

(Take that, Grandma.)

But seriously, it's not so bad being single. I have a lot more me time, which I adore - of course. Being mildly self-centered helps in that regard. Plus I get to peruse for cute people any time I want, without feeling any guilt afterwards. Huzzah. Also? I can do anything I want for myself, and not have to consult with anyone else about it. Chya. That's pretty fabulous if you ask me, which I know you were going to.

Of course, there are downsides too - like being lonely. But then I remember how awesome I am, and I just talk to myself. Problem solved.

Overall, I'm still a little sleep deprived from the past few nights of insomnia, so I'm not entirely sure writing this was a wise decision. If you walk away from this with anything meaningful, congratulations.

Friday, April 9, 2010

Fall schedule, tons of crap and one month to go.

So earlier this week I decided on my schedule for this up-coming fall. Huzzah. It'll be a full 15-credits of pure delightful anthropology. Be jealous, people. I know you are.

(Schedule as follows for anyone who cares... mwf The Aztecs 9.30-10.20, The Paleolithic Age 10.30-11.20, North American Archaeology 11.30-12.20, Intro to Physical Anthropology 12.30-1.20 & American Indian Ethnography online - finally, a reason to be online that's legitimate.)

I also realized that I have just days over one month to pack and get my ass out this apartment for the summer. I have a lot of stuff. I mean a lot lot of stuff. Probably more than one apartment should have. I'm practically a fire hazard, y'all.

I am going to perish violently packing all of this stuff by myself. That might possibly be an overreaction.


Then again, there is a lot of stuff.

Some of this crap is coming home with me for the summer, but a ton of it is going to be put into storage. I'm telling you this so you can lighten my load, people. - But not really. Leave my crap alone. Jeez, you're all a bunch of thieves.

If this stuff was worth anything at all, it'd probably make your time worth while to try to ransack. But it's all pretty much cheap stuff that I got at garage sales. Because I'm eco-friendly. And modestly poor. I'm in college, stop judging me.

One month to go. For real, people. I'm both hyperventilating and doing the snoopy dance. I'm pretty sure that's not healthy, but I'm not a doctor.

I remember when the end of the school year meant that it was the dawning of the coolest part of the year. But now it's just a stressful situation that involves a lot of last minute papers, final exams and finding summer work. Where did the fun go, universe? I think we got jipped, y'all.

So screw the limited-fun-of-summer thing. I plan to lounge outside in the sun (with sunblock, I burn like there's no tomorrow people) like a goddamn cat as much as possible this summer.

I will also probably hit up a bunch more garage sales too (because I have a problem staying away from them).

So look out next semester - me and my cheap crap are coming to get you!

Friday, April 2, 2010

Parents, homesickness and suffocating love.

Home sweet home.


Well, I've made it home for the big superficially 'religious' Easter celebrations (i.e. a four day weekend woo!). I thought it'd at least take years, if ever, to get over the homesickness when I'm away. But you know what? I now feel claustrophobic at home. I know they don't mean to suffocate me, but parents are just always there when you're home.

They're like that piece of furniture that you're almost certain you had put outside to be picked up by the garbage man (even if they keep telling you the city doesn't take old furniture). Somehow, it's crept back into your living room with all the audacity of a tacky orange ottoman.

Not that you hate that ottoman. In fact, that particular ottoman reminds you of all your good childhood moments, and makes you feel safe and protected. But it really doesn't match anything you own anymore, and it can be such an eyesore - the way it looks in the big picture just doesn't suit your everyday needs anymore.

But maybe you could keep it around; revamp it with a new fabric - help it try to fit in, even if the style is so out of date that it's practically obsolete.

Yeah, it's sort of nice to have it around - I mean, it keeps you grounded. And that's a feeling that can be easily lost in a world where you're just another fresh (haggard) faced student in a sea of forty other similar faces. Sometimes you just need that old ottoman to remind you of your roots - and to remind you of just how far you've really come.

Suffocation doesn't sound so bad, not when you know it's suffocation by love.