Day 104 of College: The Artist Formerly Known as Cedric Diggory

Today...


We've reached the 100s, people. I am no longer writing out what day of college it is. If that upsets you...tough. I have no idea why it would upset you. If it does...then you are the one with the problem, sir. 


Moving on from that oh-so-important formatting decision, my Thanksgiving break is over. Sadness. Now I'm back in Funcie Muncie with all of its suckiness and homework. Boo. My life is so hard. I did no homework over break. Literally none. AND I HAD A LOT THAT I WAS SUPPOSED TO DO. So now I have to write a speech about overpopulation, cut a stupid video sequence and do a bunch of other things that I forgot about before tomorrow. 


Anyhow. 


I still hate Twilight. Also, the way that vampire books have basically killed-off the rest of the young-adult books. I'm a young adult. I like books. But the only books available for me to read are about stupid sparkly vampires. I swear, they're on the TV now too. Did you know that there's a show called the Vampire Diaries? Seriously, it's like a real thing. And don't even get me started on True Blood...


People get paid to act like sexy vampires. People bother to watch TV shows about sexy vampires. Yeah, cause nothing is sexier than dead people. What is wrong with our society? At what point did necrophilia become an acceptable, like, thing? 


Why am I italicizing so many things?


It's beyond me at this point. 


I'm tired. There was a Friends marathon last night. Talk about quality TV! Jennifer Aniston may be the queen of bad romantic comedies at this point and, according to most tabloids, destined to die sad and alone. But, back then! She was awesome! Her show was awesome! 


I miss the nineties. Back when Friends was on and vampires were creepy creatures of night and not sexy. Or sparkly. Or the artist formerly known as Cedric Diggory. 


The 2010's suck. We have no Friends. We have no non-sexy, non-brooding vampires. Also, Jennifer Aniston is lonely. 


How sad. 


Danielle Out. 

Day Ninety-Nine of College: Fat Turkeys

Today...


Well, first let's just be happy that it's the 99th day of college! Ninety-nine days of collegey-ness and I have yet to drop out! Woohoo! Go me!!


But, yeah, I'm on break right now. Happy almost-Thanksgiving and all that. It's Thanksgiving-Eve-Eve. 


So, today was my little brother's Thanksgiving feast in his preschool class. Cause my parents are teachers, they couldn't go. Because I was on break, apparently that meant I had to go. Lots of preschoolers and their parents. A recipe for FUN. 


That is if by fun you mean lots of forty-year-olds giving you disapproving looks and making tsk-ing noises. HE'S NOT MY KID, FORTY-YEAR-OLDS. DESPITE POPULAR BELIEF, HE IS NOT MY CHILD. 


Also, when they weren't berating me for being a single, underaged teen mom, they were making sure that everybody else there knew that their kid's handprint turkey was the BEST handprint turkey. 


In my opinion, all the handprint turkeys looked exactly the same. Except for the one really fat kid's turkey. His turkey looked less like a turkey and more like a blobby brown whale. 


I'm going to hell. 


Anyway, I'm pumped for Thanksgiving. A day dedicated purely to FOOD. Talk about a holiday in my wheelhouse. 


My family always fights on holidays. Seriously. Christmas, birthdays, Valentine's, ahem, Singles Awareness Day, Easter, Arbor Day. ALL HOLIDAYS.  At first, it's all amusing because it doesn't, like, effect me. But, bit by bit, it will get more annoying. And more insulting. And then somebody talks about me or my turtle in a demeaning fashion. After that, SOMEBODY'S GOING DOWN. 


So, yeah. Thanksgiving and whatnot. 


Danielle OUT. 


PS. I'm THANKFUL for you, blog-readers!!!

Day Ninety-Two of College: Dead Mongooses

Today...
 (Well, actually more like last night)


I DIDN'T SLEEP. 


I'm serious. You know how most people say "oh, I didn't get any sleep last night" and really they went to bed at like two in the morning and actually got at least six hours of sleep?


Yeah, well, that's not what I mean. I mean that I literally did not sleep last night. AT ALL. 


It wasn't for, like, a particular reason. Well, I was freaking out a little about the whole major-thing...but I've been freaking out about that for like, months now. So...I dunno. I just didn't sleep. 


Maybe I'm turning into a vampire. 


God...that new vampire movie comes out this week, doesn't it? I still don't understand the attraction behind those stupid Twilight books/movies. 


I'm not hating without reason, bro. I read the books, all of 'em. And I STILL DON'T UNDERSTAND. I'm not gonna be one of those snobby people who're all like, 
                    "Twilight is an affront to literature and human decency." 
I mean, I won't say it out loud, at least, or post it repeatedly in online twilight forums. 


But, seriously, there has to be something that I'm missing. 


          Cause, in my eyes (and spolier alert here), this is the basic plot: 


1. There is a girl named Bella. Bella is a personality-less pale girl with exactly ONE facial expression. 


2. There are some people called Cullens. The Cullens are all sparkly and good-looking (and not gay...or so they claim). One of them is named Edward. He decides that he likes Bella, despite her having the personality and facial expression of a dead mongoose. He likes Bella A LOT. 


3. Stalking and special-hugs ensue. 


4. There are some werewolves and some angst. 


5. At some point in there, Bella and Edward get married. I dunno. Apparently you can marry undead things now. Poor Edward, having to be married to an undead mongoose. No wonder he talks about how bad she smells so often. 


6. Also, undead things can have babies now. Cause that happens. 


7. A werewolf (with really great abs) falls madly in love with a baby. AND NO ONE SEEMS TO THINK ITS EVEN KINDA WEIRD AND/OR CREEPY.


8. That's pretty much the sum of it. 


                   (spoilers over!) 




So...that's what I got from all like 7 thousand+ words of the Twilight series. Also, the word murmur. Someone murmured to Stephanie Myer too much as a child. Seriously. The word is on like, EVERY PAGE. 




Wow....I brought pop culture up into this blog. I don't usually do that. Unless it's Cosmo. Cosmo is always in the subtext of my blogs. ALWAYS. 


Now I'm probably gonna have to deal with hate-comments about how I shouldn't be hating on Twilight. I dunno. I was the one who read all four books. Granted, I did it mostly to understand my classmates in Junior High. 


Junior High was the worst. 


Danielle Out. 

Day Eight-Six of College: Aiming for the Middle

Today...


Scratch that...THIS ENTIRE WEEK....


The freaking Ball State football team is getting on my last freaking nerve. 


Yeah, I know that you're all so big and bad cause you play football at Ball State (way to aim for the middle, bro) and you're pulling a C- average in your "Social Psychology" major (again with the middle)...


BUT YOU ALL NEED TO STOP YELLING SHIT AT ME. 


(sorry for the curse word...it seemed warranted.) 


Sure, the first time it was sort of flattering. And again the second time. But, the third time...it seemed a bit much, boys. Yes, I know you need to prove your absolute masculinity and football-and-Red Bull-fueled awesomeness...but, seriously? You can't let me go get my cereal-and-beef-jerky-dinner (it was a bad week) in peace?


And yes, I know that I look super-fine in my sweatshirt and jeggings, but there's no reason to shout nonsense at me. And, yes, I do happen to be a dime piece...but seriously. Stop yelling at me. 


Anyway. That's all going on with the football team this week. Also, they aren't that good at actually playing football. Probably cause they're all to busy YELLING SHIT AT ME TO PRACTICE. 


Moving on...


The major question is torturing me again. The major question was the reason that I went and got cereal and beef jerky for dinner. I'm tossing around the idea of Professional Writing...but that just seems kinda dumb. I dunno. Advertising is also on the table. I can advertise stuff. Watch...


Me: "Here's some stuff. Spend money on it." 
Customer: "No. Why would I do that?"
Me: "Seriously. Just buy the stuff already." 
Customer: "No. Leave me alone, crazy person."
Me: "I am a crazy person. And I know where you live. So BUY THIS STUFF."
Customer: "But..."
Me: "Buy it or I will kill your whole family."


So, yeah. I think I could make it the cut-throat world of advertising. Plus, I'm good at street-fighting. So...if that comes up...


Shut up, I don't have to make sense. I learned that from listening to football players. They shout nonsense words all the time and they all seem to have scholarships. Perhaps if I drink copious amounts of Red Bull and shout nonsense words at passing girls I'll get a scholarship too!


Actually, I doubt that will happen. What will happen is I'll get addicted to Red Bull and attempt to fight someone I don't even know. 


Not that this has ever happened before....


Danielle Out. 

Day Eighty-Two of College: My Good Ideas are NEVER GOOD IDEAS

Today...


You know how sometimes you have an idea? And you think that idea would be an awesome thing to do despite having no one else's assistance or guidance or opinion? You don't? Well, yeah, I suppose normal people don't do things like that. I do things like that. OFTEN. 


That's how my hair ended up green before junior prom. 


And now, that's why my hair looks like a rotten banana. (I'm not kidding. IT DOES.) 


So, I thought it would be a good idea last night to just, you now, give myself a few highlights. I had a highlight-y kit and I'm a reasonably intelligent individual so I was like, yeah, I can TOTALLY handle this myself. That was a lie. I lied at myself there.  
I put in the high-light-y stuff, but (somehow) it ended up on the majority of my head. So, I was like, whatever, this will work. I waited the appropriated amount of time and then headed off to the shower. 


I will not describe what I was feeling when I saw my splotchy-headed-self in the mirror. Mostly because it is obscene and insulting to both bananas and mirrors. No, but seriously, I have no idea how I did what I did. So, because it isn't safe to dye over it yet or else all my hair will fall out, I've been wearing hats around Ball State. Unfortunately, I only hats I own are variously colored ski caps. So, I look like a burglar. And because I tuck all my hair into the hat, I look like a combo burglar-slash-cancer-patient. 


All in all, it hasn't been exactly a banner weekend. In addition to my hair dying woes, I also did my laundry. Now, I hate laundry. I won't do my laundry for like a month and then I'll do it all in one night. So, I was doing that and just chilling in the laundry room, jamming out to some music and whatever, when a passionately-um-engaged couple of students wandered into the room. 


They didn't really notice me until I made a sound that was kind of like "ugh-ah-omigod-gross!" I am, at my core, still about twelve years old. 


Obviously, they noticed me after my little outburst and then bolted. So...that was fun. No, not really. Actually, it was really, really awkward. I mean I understand teenage hormones as much as the next girl, but...the laundry room? Really?


When did that become okay?


Oh wait...I have no room to talk. Cause I'm single. Still. 


College has utterly failed my getting-a-boyfriend goals. 


How can boys resist my rotten-banana-hair and ski caps? It's beyond me, really. 


Whatever. 


Danielle Out.