Today...
Happy New Years Eve and all that. Apparently the word will end in 2012. Hm. It would save me the trouble of having to pick a stupid major...
Moving on.
This whole week has been filled with pain and general oddness. Let's do a day by day playback, shall we?
On Monday...I chase my family's new kittens with a remote control car. I drive the car off the edge of the stairs. The car breaks. My little brothers both cry.
On Tuesday...I stay in bed. ALL DAY. Seriously. I don't get up once. I give my siblings quarters to fetch me refreshments.
On Wednesday...Not much happens.
On Thursday...I walk in the dark, trip over the carcass of the remote control car I killed on Monday and drop my laptop. My laptop costed me pretty darn close to a thousand dollars. So, in the .8 seconds before that sucker hits the ground, I have a choice to make. My laptop or my foot. I chose my laptop.
On Friday...My big toe is almost definitely broken. It is twice the size of a normal toe. Also, it's purple. It looks like a poisoned cocktail weenie. But my computer is fine!
On Saturday (also known as today)...I go shoe-shopping. With a BROKEN TOE. In summation, I now believe that shoe-shopping with a broken toe is a punishment for the most terrible people in Hell. You know, the murderers and the rapists. And the people who cut me off in the checkout line at Wal-Mart.
According to Google Chrome, Wal-Mart is totally legitimate word. Really, Google Chrome? Wal-Mart is a word and Zealand isn't? Oh, you wacky internet server you.
Anyway. It's been a delight blogging for all of you this year, my loyal followers. It's been almost like having friends!
...And what's my New Year's resolution, you ask? Why to be more positive, of course!
Hahahahahaha. No.
Danielle OUT. (See you all in 2012!)
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Day 127 of College: Children of the Corn-mas
Today...
I'm in my mom's classroom. There are kindergarteners here. THEY'RE ALL STARING AT ME. It's incredibly creepy. The minute that I forget how much I dislike children, I look around and I'm like "Oh yeah, this is why I dislike children. THEY'RE FREAKING CREEPY."
Anyway.
I love being on break. I literally have to do nothing. Other than go to my little brother's christmas-holiday-pagent-thing. Hence the whole being in my mom's classroom thing. These kids keep staring at me...mehhhh...
No offense to people who, like, have kids and are fond of them. I'm sure your kids aren't creepy.
Moving on, the other day my little brother, who's eight years old, asked me why I didn't have a boyfriend. I informed him that it was because no boys like me. He didn't agree. He told me that the reason I didn't have a boyfriend was that I was too depressing.
"You have a depressing blog!" He insisted. "Be a little less depressing!"
...keep in mind that this kid is eight years old. When your eight-year-old brother tells you that the reason you're (still) alone is because you're too depressing, then you might be doing something wrong. I might be doing something wrong.
Whatever. I don't even care...I'm going to go listen to "I Can't Make You Love Me" and cry. It's what all the coolest happy non-depressing kids do.
Oh, wait. THE KIDS ARE STILL STARING AT ME. Scratch that plan. Let's keep blogging.
Christmas is only, what, four days away? Let my family's fights begin! As I have previously stated, my family fights like crazy during every single holiday. EVERY.SINGLE.ONE.
And with Christmas being, like, the king of the holidays, the fights on Christmas are always something to behold. Someone will end up with a broken leg and/or spirit. Probably both.
Well, I'm sure you'll be hearing from me soon if not later. Merry Christmas-Eve-Eve-Eve-Eve.
Danielle OUT.
I'm in my mom's classroom. There are kindergarteners here. THEY'RE ALL STARING AT ME. It's incredibly creepy. The minute that I forget how much I dislike children, I look around and I'm like "Oh yeah, this is why I dislike children. THEY'RE FREAKING CREEPY."
Anyway.
I love being on break. I literally have to do nothing. Other than go to my little brother's christmas-holiday-pagent-thing. Hence the whole being in my mom's classroom thing. These kids keep staring at me...mehhhh...
No offense to people who, like, have kids and are fond of them. I'm sure your kids aren't creepy.
Moving on, the other day my little brother, who's eight years old, asked me why I didn't have a boyfriend. I informed him that it was because no boys like me. He didn't agree. He told me that the reason I didn't have a boyfriend was that I was too depressing.
"You have a depressing blog!" He insisted. "Be a little less depressing!"
...keep in mind that this kid is eight years old. When your eight-year-old brother tells you that the reason you're (still) alone is because you're too depressing, then you might be doing something wrong. I might be doing something wrong.
Whatever. I don't even care...I'm going to go listen to "I Can't Make You Love Me" and cry. It's what all the coolest happy non-depressing kids do.
Oh, wait. THE KIDS ARE STILL STARING AT ME. Scratch that plan. Let's keep blogging.
Christmas is only, what, four days away? Let my family's fights begin! As I have previously stated, my family fights like crazy during every single holiday. EVERY.SINGLE.ONE.
And with Christmas being, like, the king of the holidays, the fights on Christmas are always something to behold. Someone will end up with a broken leg and/or spirit. Probably both.
Well, I'm sure you'll be hearing from me soon if not later. Merry Christmas-Eve-Eve-Eve-Eve.
Danielle OUT.
Friday, December 9, 2011
Day 116 of College: Avoidance is the Best Policy
Today...
I'm supposed to be writing a paper. About Muncie. So, instead I wrote/recorded a blog.
You're welcome.
No, but seriously. This semester needs to be over. I don't care that my class semester is all kinds of terrible next semester.
Seriously, though.
I have two math classes and two anthropology classes.
I don't trust subjects with that many syllables in the title. Also, I just plain hate math. Math is terrible.
Also, I recorded me talking while I was waiting for my laundry to dry....
So. There's that.
It was terrible to cut...seriously. So many funny things happened that you didn't get to hear. Poor you. I get to hear my funny self talk all the time.
Oh, shameless self promotion for a minute. If you haven't already, like Danielle's Depressing Blogs on Facebook. There's a box somewhere up by the top of the page....go on...go like it...you know you want to.
Or you could like me on Google Plus....
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!
I almost got through that with a straight face....like anyone uses Google Plus.
Seriously Google Plus, it's nice that you tried. But, let it go. Nobody wants you.
Now go outside and sleep in the rain. And Facebook will stand in the doorway and laugh at you. Seriously, you laugh Facebook. You've earned it.
Danielle Out.
I'm supposed to be writing a paper. About Muncie. So, instead I wrote/recorded a blog.
You're welcome.
No, but seriously. This semester needs to be over. I don't care that my class semester is all kinds of terrible next semester.
Seriously, though.
I have two math classes and two anthropology classes.
I don't trust subjects with that many syllables in the title. Also, I just plain hate math. Math is terrible.
Also, I recorded me talking while I was waiting for my laundry to dry....
So. There's that.
It was terrible to cut...seriously. So many funny things happened that you didn't get to hear. Poor you. I get to hear my funny self talk all the time.
Oh, shameless self promotion for a minute. If you haven't already, like Danielle's Depressing Blogs on Facebook. There's a box somewhere up by the top of the page....go on...go like it...you know you want to.
Or you could like me on Google Plus....
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!
I almost got through that with a straight face....like anyone uses Google Plus.
Seriously Google Plus, it's nice that you tried. But, let it go. Nobody wants you.
Now go outside and sleep in the rain. And Facebook will stand in the doorway and laugh at you. Seriously, you laugh Facebook. You've earned it.
Danielle Out.
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Day 113 of College: Here's to an (Un)Happy Finals Week and an Ironic New Year
Today...
Finals week is nearly here, folks. You know what that means. A serious increase in the number of blogs I will be posting because I am avoiding the responsibility of studying for said finals.
I hate finals.
I hate school.
I hate work in general.
But, in other news, it being almost finals weeks also means that it is almost the end of the first semester! Woo! I'll be done with 1/8th of my college education!
...And I'm still single. We gotta step it up a few notches college. (I dunno...maybe it's my own fault for choosing to go to a college with really good arts, theatre, teaching and journalism programs. Those are subjects dominated by girls and gay boys. And don't get me wrong, I love gay boys. But...gay boys rarely love me back.)
Anyway.
Did I tell everyone that I applied to and got into Purdue last semester? I didn't? Well, I did.
Mostly it was because I was stressed, hated my major, and had no friends and was depressed because I had no friends. Also, because of high female/gay boy population here. But...I digress. That happened. I thought I should inform the general population that, despite popular belief, I AM smart enough to get into a college that isn't Ball State.
I'm not transferring because I can't afford it and because I've gotten used to my lonely little routines, but...still.
I got in. To Purdue. Granted, it was their liberal arts program (yes, they have one). So...maybe it isn't that big of an achievement. Huh.
Whatever. It's a point of pride at this point.
What the hell does liberal arts even mean? Seriously...does anyone know?
So, happy week-and-a-half until the end of first semester. Also, 19 days to Christmas. So, happy Christmas. And, jolly Hanukkah and merry Kwanza and neutral non-celebratory day to the Jehova's witnesses. And whatever to all you atheists out there.
Also, merry irony to the hipsters. I hope you get all the flannel shirts, pabst blue ribbon, and terrible sweaters that you deserve.
...I hate you, hipsters.
So much.
So, so much.
Danielle Out.
PS. Seriously, hipsters. SO MUCH.
Finals week is nearly here, folks. You know what that means. A serious increase in the number of blogs I will be posting because I am avoiding the responsibility of studying for said finals.
I hate finals.
I hate school.
I hate work in general.
But, in other news, it being almost finals weeks also means that it is almost the end of the first semester! Woo! I'll be done with 1/8th of my college education!
...And I'm still single. We gotta step it up a few notches college. (I dunno...maybe it's my own fault for choosing to go to a college with really good arts, theatre, teaching and journalism programs. Those are subjects dominated by girls and gay boys. And don't get me wrong, I love gay boys. But...gay boys rarely love me back.)
Anyway.
Did I tell everyone that I applied to and got into Purdue last semester? I didn't? Well, I did.
Mostly it was because I was stressed, hated my major, and had no friends and was depressed because I had no friends. Also, because of high female/gay boy population here. But...I digress. That happened. I thought I should inform the general population that, despite popular belief, I AM smart enough to get into a college that isn't Ball State.
I'm not transferring because I can't afford it and because I've gotten used to my lonely little routines, but...still.
I got in. To Purdue. Granted, it was their liberal arts program (yes, they have one). So...maybe it isn't that big of an achievement. Huh.
Whatever. It's a point of pride at this point.
What the hell does liberal arts even mean? Seriously...does anyone know?
So, happy week-and-a-half until the end of first semester. Also, 19 days to Christmas. So, happy Christmas. And, jolly Hanukkah and merry Kwanza and neutral non-celebratory day to the Jehova's witnesses. And whatever to all you atheists out there.
Also, merry irony to the hipsters. I hope you get all the flannel shirts, pabst blue ribbon, and terrible sweaters that you deserve.
...I hate you, hipsters.
So much.
So, so much.
Danielle Out.
PS. Seriously, hipsters. SO MUCH.
Friday, December 2, 2011
Day 109 of College: I'm Faster than Usual
Today...
I would like to clear something up. I'm not dying, nor am I already dead. Okay.
We're good.
So, moving on. For those unlucky souls who are not my Facebook/real-life friends, you haven't heard about my lemonade-flavored escapades of this past week, have you?
Well, they're fun. And they involve hot boys and the hospital and me being generally uncomfortable. So...to start....
The hot boy. And the lemonade. It's a video...which I shall now embed...
I would like to clear something up. I'm not dying, nor am I already dead. Okay.
We're good.
So, moving on. For those unlucky souls who are not my Facebook/real-life friends, you haven't heard about my lemonade-flavored escapades of this past week, have you?
Well, they're fun. And they involve hot boys and the hospital and me being generally uncomfortable. So...to start....
The hot boy. And the lemonade. It's a video...which I shall now embed...
So...there's that.
But, moving on from my lemonade-soaked moccasins (they're still sticky, I swear) I also went to the hospital. AT ONE IN THE FREAKING MORNING.
And let me just say, I think Web MD should be outlawed. Because Web MD freaked me the hell out. Cause when I put in my symptoms, Web MD told me I was having a freaking stroke. I'm an 18-year-old girl, Web MD. 18-year-old girls do not often have strokes. So, I went to the hospital at one in the freaking morning and got a CAT scan. Guess what? NO STROKE, WEB MD.
Migrane-style-headache, check. No feeling in my left side, also check. THAT DOES NOT MEAN THAT I AM HAVING A STROKE, WEB MD.
So, that's where the Danielle-is-dead/dying rumors came in. Just to clear it up.
Danielle Out.
PS. I'm fine. Again, to clear it up. People have been calling my phone at very odd hours to make sure I'm not in a morgue. It's very sweet, yes, but it is also awful for my already fragile and tiny sleep schedule.
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