Ways to Avoid Studying and Help the Blind

I have a criminology test tomorrow that I should be studying for. Therefore...blog time! 

I really should study thought. Criminology is a class that I never, ever pay attention in. It's not my fault, though. The professor is probably the worst lecturer ever. Seriously. Watching cartoons for an hour would probably be more informative. Or listening to the lecture in German or something, I don't know. I do know that she, my professor, likes to copy things word for word from our book onto powerpoint slides in point 12 font and read them to us. Word for word.

If we were a class full of blind people, then that would be awesome. As it is, we only have one blind person in the class and, while I'm sure he's getting a lot out of it, the rest of us can read those slides faster than she can and with fewer pronunciation errors. 

It's usually cool, though. 

I'm just on pintrest the whole time pinning things to my two wedding boards. Yes, I know I'm perpetually single. It's not weird that I have two wedding boards and no boyfriend to love me. I just want to wear a pretty dress and have a whole day where everyone is required to look at me. 

Shut up. 

Anyway, my latest attempt to learn another language has been foiled. I guess I can add Japanese to the pile of languages I tried and failed to learn. That pile already has Latin, French, Russian, Farsi, Pig Latin, Elvish and Spanish three times. I seriously hate myself for being unable to speak anything but english. And I don't even speak english well. 

I think the language-learning part of my brain had to be discarded to make room for all the awesomeness that I just naturally contain. That or it was broken during the "stroke-like- event" that I had last year. 

That was fun. 

Ugh. My notes from my criminology class are just sitting here, staring at me. Get off my back, criminology notes! I'm busy right now! 

Okay, so other class that I hate is walking. You're probably shaking your head and saying something like, "Walking? Really, Danielle? I knew you were impressively lazy, but are you really going to complain about walking class?" 

You don't even know. 

You don't even know what I'm going through. I never knew that people could walk so fast. It's like...sprint-walking or something. I keep almost tripping over my abnormally large feet. (cool story...I had to buy my new shoes in the men's section. They're a size 11...in mens. That's like a 13 in women's.) 

You'd think that having freak-feet would make walking long distances easier. Lies. They just make you flat-footed so you have to stomp around the place like an arthritic godzilla. Or a heavy-set camel. Or an obese third-grader. Or a fish that spontaneously grew stumpy legs. 

So, yeah. My feet. They're stupid. 

Also, I think that my fitness teacher has decided to make me her "project." Like, if she encourages me enough, I will spontaneously become an expert at fitness walking. I'm sorry, but that is not going to happen. My feet will always be big and stupid and I will always be lazy and unmotivated to do anything but watch netflix and eat pizza. 

Mmmm...pizza. 

Pizza bagel bites are awesome, by the way. Not that it has anything to do with anything...but the fact still stands. Pizza bagels kick ass. 

This blog feels fairly boring. Sorry. I can't accidentally sexually harass boys every week. Somebody might get wise and report me to university PD. 

Ha...like they're real cops of something. Plus, I'm a criminal justice major. We're all on the same team, bros. 

I should go. My criminology notes beckon. 

Sociology for Dummies

So, I'm thinking of starting a new blog (or at least retitling this one.) My new/renamed blog would be called Weird Places I, Danielle L Renckly, Fell Asleep and Also Why Does My Hall Have So Many Damn Fire Drills?

It's a working title. 

But seriously. Those two things combined basically comprise my entire life at college so far this year. For one, the sleeping in weird places should really not be an issue. I have a single dorm and two sets of furniture. Two beds, two chairs, four perfectly good places to nap!  

Apparently, whatever instinct controls my sleeping habits would beg to differ. A list of the places I have fallen asleep in the last two weeks is as followed: 

the floor, the floor, the floor again, the shower, the floor, under my bed, the floor, the floor, the shower again, the floor, inside a box, the floor, the floor and, oh guess what? THE FREAKING FLOOR. 

For some reason, I keep waking up on the floor of my dorm. Sometimes I'll wake up on the floor and not remember how I got there. 

You know, this all plays pretty well into my "I'm secretly a werewolf" theory. 

But, moving on to the fire drill thing. I've been at school for about a month now. Four weeks. Not that long. In that time, my stupid building has been through four fire drills. That is literally a drill per week. Not, of course, that they've been spaced out that nicely. No, they happen without warning at the most inopportune times. Like at midnight. Or when it's storming in a torrential fashion. Or when I was very busy watching the Vampire Diaries, thank you very much! 

Stupid college. 

Speaking of stupid college, I had a test in Sociology today. 

It did not go well.

 Have you ever read something that was in English, or whatever language you happen to speak natively, and have just not understood it? Like even a little bit? 

That had never happened to me before this morning. And let me tell you...it was terrible. Awful. I almost cried. I was taking my exam and I looked at the first question and I...

I...

I DIDN'T GET IT. 

It said something along the lines of "looking from the perspective of Muller's theory on differential association, how does the ruling class assure its hegemony through constructing and diffusing a proper ideology of crime?" 

Ummmm...yes? 

 Is this what stupid people feel like all the time? IS IT? 

I feel like I'm in Latin/Spanish/Math class all over again. I hate being not awesome at things. 

And with that improper segue...(spelled that word right on the first try, I did) 

I'm currently in mourning. I've had a dear friend fall gravely ill. And by dear friend I mean my macbook and by gravely ill I mean it decided that it wanted to stop turning on. 

My computer is quite the hipster. Apparently, working when I needed it to work was too mainstream. Now, I'm stuck doing all my homework/facebook stalking/blog typing on a computer in the library. When I am struck with my own hilariousness and start to laugh like a moron, the people all stare at me.

Peasants. They're all jealous of my overwhelming awesomeness.

But, seriously...I know nothing at all about computers. I know that they're the special magic boxes that let me watch my shows and type my snark-tastic blogs, but that's pretty much it. So, my attempts to fix my lovely macbook began and ended at hitting it, yelling at it and then cussing it out. 

So, I'm probably going to need to contact a professional. 

I'm gonna go stand outside the library and stop the first dweeb in a Doctor Who shirt. Sound plan, I think. 

I'll let you know how it all pans out.

Day 146 of College: Escapades at the Ice capades

Today...


Welcome back, everybody. I hope you are all having a lovely 2012. I'm not, but that is beside the point. Wow, I haven't written a blog since LAST YEAR (see what I did there? Huh? Huzzah for terribly puns!) So, yeah. Classes began today and, really, that's it. 


I'm not in one news class right now. Not a single one. Is it a bad sign that I'm happy about this fact? I'm more excited for my Economics class than I am for anything related to news. Maybe I should major in economics. Math. Hmmm. Perhaps not. 


Anyway. I bought fishes. Well, new fishes since my last fish, Captain Morgan, died. I have three of them. I'm waiting a week to name them so if they die I won't be too upset. 


And by that, I mean that I'll only cry for a couple of hours instead of my usual having a fish funeral/one to two months of mourning. 


Yeah. 


I'm thinking of naming them after historical figures or superheros. Or perhaps a mix of both. Having Batman, Archduke Franz Ferdinand and Captain American all in the same tank would help me reach a new level of wackiness in my college-related-escapades. 


Most college students get drunk and then pass out on weekend. I sit in a laundry room make snarky commentary about my drunken peers. Perhaps I need to start having some more wacky escapades. 


Say "escapades." It sounds like "Ice capades," doesn't it? No? Well, I think it does. 


This is all getting rather pointless. I better go or I might start rhyming other things with escapades. Like mess-capades. Which is a work I made up. It means having escapades...that are messy. 


Oh, the awful-tastic-ness of my puns. 


Danielle OUT. 

Day Thirty-Five of College: Tattoos and Gibberish

Today...


The math behind these blogs is getting rather difficult. You know, I have to figure out when I wrote the last one and then figure out what day it is today and then add on days so its accurate. Oh, the things I do for all seven or so of my loyal readers. (Then again, I write these more out of self-pity than anything else.)


Moving on. So far, college has prompted me to make one life-altering decision. I'm never, ever, ever, ever getting a tattoo. Seriously. Every trampy girl here has a tattoo. A lot of the non-trampy ones do to, but...the trampy ones are winning on that front. I swear, I have never seen more chinese characters or different languages inked on people's skin. It's like a freaking mutli-culti ink-fest up in here. If you speak that language, then it's one thing. Then it's sort of okay...because at least you know what it says. But, seriously, if I was a tattoo artist, I'd just write curse words on people. Or the word "fish" over and over and over again. And then I'd laugh about it. 


How do you says "You're a total idiot" in Chinese? Cause I think the girl sitting next to me has it written on her freaking arm. Oh, and how do you say "If you can read this, punch me in the face" in Hungarian because I swear to God, there is a girl in my Journalism class who has it inked all over her neck. 


It makes you wonder...do people in other countries have random English words all over their bodies? Can't you you just imagine the chinese guy in a circle with all of his friends, proudly displaying his new tattoo? 
      "D-O-U-C-H-E-B-A-G." Then he'd nod all cool-like. "Yeah, it means 'courage' in English." 
Sure it does, foreign boy. Sure it does. 


So, seriously, before you get a tattoo, something that will be on your skin FOR ALL OF TIME, please, check on Google Translator and make sure that it says what you think it says. Or, crazy idea here, but bear with me, maybe you could get a tattoo in a language you ACTUALLY KNOW. 


Unless it's a tattoo based on the Twilight book series. Then, you get it in whatever made-up language you want. Because maybe it will keep people from finding out YOU GOT A TWILIGHT TATTOO. I've seen them...they're real, I swear. You know the girl with Hungarian on her neck? Yeah, she's got "and so the lion fell in love with the lamb" inked up on her lower back. There's also a picture of a lion. And a picture of a lamb. In case the words alone weren't enough for us. 


Good Lord, some people are dumb. Seriously, how did you get into college? Oh, wait, I forgot. 


This is Ball State. 


Right. 


Now everything makes a lot more sense. 


Danielle Out.