Day 253 of College: Backpacking for Beginners

Today...


Today was stupid. It was just a series of events that were straight-up ridiculous. 


It started in the morning. I woke up, went to my first class and took a test. That was all fine. But, after that, I had to sign up for classes. 


What you have to understand about college classes is that getting registered in the classes you actually want to take is rather challenging. 


And stupid. 


I had a time slot when I was allowed to sign up. That time slot happened to be during my anthropology class. I tried to be all sneaky-like and sign up for classes instead of listening to the lecture. 


Except that my computer is a tool and didn't seem to feel like letting me sign up for classes. After some loud sighs and furious clicking, I just walked out. People stared. 


I really wanted to get into a walking class, you see. Ball State students have to take a physical education requirement. I was determined that mine be walking. Not running, not jogging...walking. 


I'd take crawling if they offered it. 


Anyhow, I went to the library and found a computer that worked. The working computer informed me that no, I couldn't sign up for classes because I owed five dollars to the university. 


Really, Ball State? The small fortune you've already stolen from me wasn't enough? You need five more dollars? Okay then. 


But, wait...you don't take credit cards? 


I had to backpack-run back to my dorm and find my emergency money so I could pay a five dollar fine and sign up for walking. 


I make fun of the kids who backpack-run (that's running...when you have a backpack on). They look incredibly stupid. 


I had to backpack-run across campus. Twice. 


Who looks stupid now? ... Yeah. It's this girl. 


So...that was my day. 


Also, I'm pretty positive I'm going to fail my economics class. 


I got an A on the first test so I was all "Oh yeah, I got this. No more paying attention in lectures for me. I'm an economic genius!!!" 


That was a false statement. I am no economics genius. The first test was just easy. So now I have to learn a whole semester's worth of economics before the final next week. 


I'm gonna need a bigger dorm room. 


Oh! And speaking of dorm rooms...I have a single next year! Huzzah! I will never have to talk to anyone ever again! Agoraphobia!!! 


But not really. I'm assuming someone will try to talk to me in walking class. I did, in fact, get in. 


And who wouldn't want to socialize with me and also walk? 


It's a win-win-win-win-win-win. Win. 


Danielle OUT. 


...win. 

Day 246 of College: Haikus and Momentus Occasions

Today...


Happy 50th, people! 50th blog post, that is! This is the part where people usually thank their fans and whatnot. I will not be doing that. I think we all know that I would still write these whether people read them or not. 


In honor of this momentus day, a haiku: 

Who would have thought

Writing about depression

Could make you happy

And because that was fun, a second haiku:

Fifty is a number

Fifty blogs I have written

My life is the worst

Oh, poetry. You bring me so much undeserved joy. 


Anyway, back to the 50th blog festivities! 


I've been having an oddly southern day. You're probably asking your computer screen, "But Danielle, what is a 'southern day?' Oh please enlighten us, great and very attractive one!!" 


Firstly, thank you. I am very attractive. 


Secondly, a southern day is a day when my inner-monologue sounds like it's from Louisiana. Seriously...it's weird and I don't know where it's coming from. 


But, let's take a look at a paper I wrote for english today. The teacher said 'participation points' and I got freaking excited. Whenever participation is a criteria, I turn into one sarcastic little bi-otch. Also, my southern-ness managed to creep in there. 


Just...for example, here's a bit of my paper: 

      " ...Woe is me! What am I supposed to write about now? Drinking ice tea and headin on down to the bayou? Is that what you want? Fricken fine then. I'll go down to the bayou and fish for some catfish and we'll all be happy dandy won't we?" 

Keep in mind...that's beginning of the fourth paragraph. The finished paper had twelve paragraphs. I won't read them for you.

The last few were oddly emotional. 

Anyway. I have t-minus 17 days until I'm out of here! Woo! Then I get to work...every day...for eight hours...

I rescind my woo. 

Moving on...I'm already dreading my 8am math class and it's only three in the afternoon. I just hate it so much. It's so boring. 

I do lots of stuff in that class. Let's make a list, shall we? It's the 50th blog! We've already used italics...let's get crazy!

Things Danielle Does in Math Class

1. Draws stick figures
2. Stares distractedly at the (broken) clock
3. Contemplates the meaning of life
4. Writes "Math is the worst" all over notebooks, folders, binder, ect.
5. Draws sharks all over the desk. In pen. 
6. Throws erasers at the hipster kid
7. Not listen
8. Any conceivable thing that isn't math

So, there's that. And speaking of things you should do but really haven't...have you liked me on Facebook? You haven't? Not ready for out relationship to be FBO yet? (P.S. FBO means facebook official. Google it, bitch.) Well as a proud southern woman...never mind. 

Just, like me. Do that. Also, leave me comments. They make me happy. Also, I am staggeringly needy. We know this. This has been established. So like me on Facebook and leave me comments. And then I will be so happy I may never write a depressing blog again! 

But I totally will. 

Happy 50th, people!!!

Danielle OUT. 

Day 240 of College: Bathroom Lunchables

Today...

is a Thursday. Happy Thursday, blog readers! 

No, but seriously...that's the most exciting thing about this particular day. That it's a Thursday. 

Meh. 

I'm feeling increasingly apathetic about classes, homework, tests, ect. School in general, really. Never fear, though. I only have 23 days of college left! 

(this year, I mean)

I've been wondering...how shall I count days when I'm no longer at school? Like, this summer will I type "Day 1 of Summer?" But now I feel like all this college-day-counting was a big ole waste of time. 

Hmmm. This is something I must ponder for a while. 

So, anyway. I've recently discovered that they sell pizza lunchables in the basement of the dorm where I live. This is FANTASTIC news. So, for about the past week I've eaten little to nothing beside pizza lunchables. Oh, and leftover easter candy.

Health food! 

I'm going to have to buy more pizza lunchables this summer and somehow hide them from my hordes of siblings. 

I plan on bringing them to eat at my job so I feel all grown-up. 

Oh! Right...I haven't informed you avid blog readers about my summer employment yet! Well, in case you care (and even if you don't), I'm interning this summer at an office-type shindig. It's awesome because I can put in on my resume and make lots of money and whatnot. It's not awesome because it has real-person-job-hours. I'm working 8 to 4...every single day. 

It's like school...but I get paid twelve dollars an hour.

I'm thinking the benefits outweigh the whole working-eight-hours thing. Also, I get a lunch break. Where I can eat my pizza lunchables. 

If you can't tell, I haven't eaten yet today. So, I'm kind of fixated on this whole lunch thing. Because I'm hungry. And I want lunch. Preferably a pizza-lunchable kind of lunch.

Or any kind of lunch really. I am many things...picky is not one of them. 

So...speaking of food, I saw some girl eating Chick-Fil-A in the bathroom yesterday. It brought back memories of my junior high years. So, that was fun. And weird. Mostly weird. 

I wanted to ask her why she was eating in the bathroom. In high school or junior high, it kinda makes sense. You have to eat at a certain place at a certain time and if you don't have any friends, it can get majorly uncomfortable.

But in college, most people have houses and/or dorms. So, you can bring your food back to the place you live and eat it there. And what's more, no one is forcing you to eat at, like, a certain place or time. I could go eat some Chick-Fil-A right now! Because I'm an adult! Free to make my own choices, what what! 

But, I digress. If homegirl wants to eat in the bathroom...whatever. I'm not gonna judge. 

I'm just going to write about her on my blog. 

Danielle OUT.

Day 235 of College: My Heart Won't Go On

Today...


I am still emotionally unstable. Why am I emotionally unstable, you ask? Well, the answer to that question is simple. And that answer is Titanic. 


As of yesterday, I was probably one of the, like, six people on earth who had never seen Titanic (the movie...not the boat). I dunno. It had just never come up. 


So, my friends all went to see Titanic (again, the movie not the boat) in 3D. I went along because when someone tells me to do something, I usually do it, emotional consequences aside. 


So...I watched Titanic. 


Oh my God. 


Why did no one tell me HOW SAD IT IS??? 


I seriously wept openly for the last half-hour. And then, finally, when it was over, I just sat in my seat crying. I took my 3D glasses off and I had makeup, like, all down my face. I tried to hide my sadness behind a popcorn bucket, but people saw me. 


All my friends laughed. 


The movie theater noticed their laughter and the whole movie theater looked back and THEY LAUGHED TOO. 


It was terrible. 


I had makeup all over my face and I was just blubbering about how awful it was that the Titanic (the boat...not the movie) sunk and everybody died. I was NOT OKAY. 


I had to go home and hug my dad. 


I cried the whole drive home and then at a bonfire my friends had and then later in the shower. Why? Why did that movie have to be so SAD?  


I'm still very delicate, emotionally speaking. Weird things keep setting me off. I cried this morning while eating waffles. I cried while shopping at Kohls. I even cried while putting on my makeup this morning (eventually I just gave up). 


I just hate everything right now. 


My god...why do people watch Titanic (the movie...not the boat)? I don't understand. 


And...okay. I'm crying again. I need to go listen to my "Sad Songs" playlist, which now includes "My heart will go on" in addition to "I can't make you love me." 


Basically, it's just those two songs. Over and over and over. 


Okay. 


Danielle OUT.

Day 226 of College: Thinking is the WORST

Today...


Blogger changed its format. Only very slightly. They added a spell-check button. 


I hate it. 


I'm freaking out. It's like chicken little up in here. The sky may or may not be falling. It is yet to be seen. 


And, come on Blogger..We both know that Google Chrome does my spell checking, thank you very much. 


Though, let's be honest here...Google Chrome does a really, really terrible job. 


So maybe it's best that there's now an alternative. 


Whatever. 


So...I'm being indecisive again. (It's kinda my thing. That, blogging and being really, really poor.)  I keep changing my major. Stupid college. Why can't I just major in eating, sleeping and, you know, thinking and stuff? 


Oh wait...I could...it's called philosophy! (Ba-dum, ching!) 


Ball State really does have a philosophy major. You can major in...thinking. Then again, you can also major in psychology which is like majoring in thinking about other people thinking. 


Meta. 


My unreasonable hatred toward thinking aside, I really do hate this whole "choose a major" business. Why can't they just, like, pull a China and assign us careers? I'd be more than cool with that. Unless, of course, my career was something math-related. Or spanish-related. Or thinking-related. 


Whatever. Once they build time machines, I'll transport myself back to the pre-Cold War Soviet Union and be a wheat farmer. I'd be such a cool wheat farmer. They'd call me Danielle, the slayer of all that is wheat and...


I think this is getting out of hand. 


Also, I had a fish die last week. So I'm allowed to be mostly insane and rambly. 


I'm not over his passing yet. 


I tried to use "my fish died" as an excuse to not turn in a paper. It did not work. I had to write the stupid paper. 


I tried to use "Captain America died" as an excuse not to take a test (because Captain America was my fish's name and all). It did not work. And now my history professor thinks that I'm a lunatic. 


So, now only Archduke Franz Ferdinand remains alive in the tank that was once also home to Batman and Captain America. Sigh. Why do all the fishes I love leave me? 


I should buy a shark. Sharks never die. Well, I mean, they do...but I understand they are much more hardy than, you know, goldfish and the like. 


Most things are more hardy than goldfish and the like. 


But, sharks. I would buy a shark and name him or her Fredrick Douglas. Because my whole "name-all-the-animals-after-only-dead-historical-figures" thing. And also my blatant disregard for the animal's actual gender (as can be evidenced by my naming a girl turtle Pope John Paul). 


...I miss Pope John when I'm a college. If only he was allowed here with me. Oh, all the wacky escapades that we would have together. 


Danielle OUT. 

Day 218 of College: Near Misses and Nervous Breakdowns

Today...


A swarm of vicious wood bees almost killed me. It was thisclose. 


For those of you not in the know, wood bees are the huge black ones that are approximately the size and shape of my big toe the time that I dropped my laptop on it. 


I don't understand how they fly. I really, really don't. 


My problem with wood bees aside, I have had a very odd week. It's just been all-around weird. 


We'll start with this weekend, shall we? We shall and you get no say in it. Ha. 


Anyway, I went to Cinciatti this weekend (yes, I know I misspelled that. Google Chrome had informed me.). While in Sinsenatty (at this point I'm juts being a smart ass) I visited Ikea. 


My mind was blown. 


If there's ever an zombie apocolypse, I'm headed straight for Ikea. There's enough food/couches there to feed/sit an army. Despite my Ides of March resolution not to spend any more loan money on stupid stuff, I bought a whole ton of stupid stuff. 


Those purchases included but were not limited to a pair of shark-flops (flip-flops with sharks on them), a tiny little wooden man and an aloe vera plant that I named Vladimir Putin. 


...I can spell Vladimir Putin right on the first try, but not Cincinattii. Mine is an odd sort of mind. 


Anyhow, it turned out that my Ikea escapades were just, like, a set up for the wackiness that would ensue in the rest of my Cincinatty trip. 


I would spend paragraphs upon paragraphs describing what led up to this particular incident, but I really don't think I can honestly justify it. 


I had a nervous breakdown. In the middle of a Ralph Lauren. 


I'm not kidding. 


I shouted at my shopping companions that they were "spending too much effing money" and that their Ralph Lauren clothes were "the stupidest things that I had ever seen." 


I almost threw a vase out the window. 


There was a lot of uncomfortable silence and staring in Ralph Lauren after I was through. Also, apparently, I've been saying Ralph Lauren wrong for my entire life. Lauren is not pronounced "Lauren." It's apparently pronounced Ralph Lau-REN. There's a straight-up nonsensical emphasis on the REN. 


Of all the douche-baggery in all the malls of all the worlds...Ralph Lau-REN is the freaking worst. 


Hold me back. I may just burn down a country club. 


I hear buzzing...


...the end is nigh. The wood bees have found my super-secret hiding place. 


Danielle OUT

Day 213 of College: Attack of the Frisbees

Today...


I walked aimlessly around campus for a few hours. I did this because the weather was nice, so I wanted to be outside, but I didn't want to sit in one place lest I be mocked or hit with an ultimate frisbee (how are they different than regular frisbees? I mean, really.) 


I don't know why someone would mock me. But, walking around campus, I'm already half-convinced that everyone is laughing at me. Again, I have no idea why. 


But, anyway, I wandered campus aimlessly. I call this "pulling a Danielle." There are 3 distinct rules that you must follow when pulling a Danielle. 


1. Don't meander. Walk sort-of quickly, like you might be heading to class or something. This dispels suspicion that you aren't actually going to someplace. 


2. Have a "destination" in mind. My destination is always Starbucks, mostly because Starbucks is hella far from campus. Walking there takes, like, ten minutes (At Ball State Strip Mall, ten minutes is far). Seriously, Starbucks is the Pluto of the Ball State Universe-ity. 

3. Don't make eye contact. For me, this is a life rule in general. Eye contact leads to awkwardness. And bananas. 


Anyhow, time for some cutting observations about other college-goers. 


So, this week has been warm. On some levels, this is neat. On some levels, this is not-so-neat. The not-so-neat level consists mainly of whores. 


Let me explain. There is no dress code in college. Apparently, that means you dress like a street walker on the first day of non-frigid weather. Seriously. Sometimes, I can't tell if girls are wearing "shorts" or denim-colored-thongs. 


Some of them are wearing homecoming dresses. I'm not kidding. Throw a cardigan over that sucker and apparently your homecoming dress is like the same thing as a sundress. 


Also, the girls in my building think that sunbathing on the sidewalk outside is a good idea. I almost tripped on one in a straight-up string bikini yesterday. 


It's been making me seriously uncomfortable. 


On a related note, the boys in my building are getting ridiculous. And clever. But mostly ridiculous. 


They've figured out that you can sit on the lawn outside and just stare at girls. It's like Playboy with marginally more clothes and marginally less money. And marginally the same amounts  of skeeviness. 


And people wonder why I want to drop out of college...


(Is it like this at all colleges? Or is it just marginally-better-than-community-college-Ball-State?) 


Whatever. I'll just keep my clothes on and remain ridiculously pale. We'll see who's laughing when we're all thirty and they all have skin cancer...and probably husbands. 


At this rate, I will most likely still be single. 


Danielle OUT.