I'm Too Cold For Witty Titles

It's been a while.

I say that a lot. You know what? From now on, I'm not going to says "it's been a while." We're just all going to accept that it's been a while and we're going to move on from there. Good? Good.

Moving right along then. My snot froze this morning. It was the worst thing that has ever happened in the history of all time. It was like negative ten degrees out and I was literally unable to breathe because of the snot-cicles blocking my nostrils. I didn't even know something like that could happen.

I wore two pairs of pants and I couldn't feel my legs for like half an hour after I came inside. I'm pretty sure if someone stabbed me in the leg, I'd be all "oh, okay" instead screaming like you're supposed to do when you're stabbed. I assume. I wouldn't know. I haven't ever been stabbed. 

But yeah. It's cold. Like, obscenely, irrationally, stupidly cold. I even let someone drive me home from work last night. My phone was all "lol, it's negative a billion degrees outside" and I was all like "okay it's roughly between Hoth and the ninth circle of hell out there, pls drive me random work friend." 

Great story, I know. 

Winter break happened. It was fun. There were holidays. On New Years, I got drunk and played glow stick tag with my family because I'm one of the cool kids. Glow stick tag is the best game out there and I will physically fight anyone who disagrees with me. 

I got some sw33t l00t for Christmas. My dad got me a dagger. It's sharp and pointy and awesome and I stabbed by coffee table with it. I also got tickets to bacon fest (because that's a thing, apparently) and a lot of batman stuff. All in all, it was a successful Christmas. 

But now it's over. And I am back at school. 

Ugh. 

School. 

I did manage to do some clever scheduling that means I only have classes two days a week. Unfortunately, that also means my classes start at 8 in the morning. As in AM. As in, I have to wake up at 7 to get there on time. 

On a related note, I'm pretty sure my neighbors all hate me because I have to set like fifty alarms in order to wake up on time, My walls are soooo thin. I feel like my neighbors can hear me breathing sometimes. And now they all get to wake up at 7 with me. Yaaaaaay. 

But, no, I'm really almost done. Weird, right? I am almost a college-degree-having person. It's a stupid degree that's all useless and stuff, but still. Degree. It's progress. Maybe. It may be progress. 

I don't know what I'm doing next year. To get a graduate degree or not to get a graduate degree. The eternal question. Also, to pay back my students or to fake my own death. More important questions. 

Anyway. 

In other news, I shaved part of my head. Or, I paid someone else to do it. Because...me with a razor. Do I really need to elaborate on why that's a bad idea? 

But, yeah. That happened. It was a Tuesday...I was bored...it seemed like the thing to do. Shrug. I don't know. I feel like it will help me when I interview for adult-person jobs. 

So, if that sweetens the pot for any potential bosses out there. I have most of a sociology degree, a dagger, a half-shaved head and a can-do attitude. Hire me! 

Whatever. I'll figure it out. I usually figure this stuff out. Sometimes. I sometimes figure this stuff out. 

Yawn. 

I should go. 

Classes are a thing that are happening here in a minute. 

Laterz. 

Take a Wok

Sup people. 

I'm incredibly bored. This is my last day in this class and it is still SO BORING. I was literally playing Pokemon on my 3DS until it died like a minute ago. The only reason I'm writing this blog because my primary way of procrastination has died. 

Wow. 

I'm almost done with this semester and I have put so little effort into literally everything. It's so sad. It's also sad that I am actually doing okay in like all of my classes. My lowest grade is a B. College is such a waste of time. 

I am so ready to be done with this whole college nonsense, people. Do I have plans after college? No. Do I care about that right now? I absolutely do not. Will I probably care about that in six months when I graduate? Most likely, yes, Yes I will.

But right now. Whatevs. What. Evs.

Other people annoy me. I'm in class right now and I'm just sitting here. Hating everyone. Look at them...paying attention and taking notes. Psh. Casuals. Playing life on easy difficulty I see, with your notes and your fancy shoes. 

Some of us like to do things the hard way, thank you very much. Some of us like to make things needlessly complicated. This isn't going well. I should give this metaphor up. This is not the hill I want to die on. 

Nothing is making sense right now. 

It might have to do with the, like, five hours of sleep that I got last night. I have a new game. I was busy playing it. It was Important.

But, no. Five hours of sleep. it's a thing that's happening. It's a think that's been happening every night for the last like two weeks since the game came out. Also, since I turned 11 and discovered the wonder of wasting time in the internet. 

I am not good at this whole "human" thing.

I either sleep way too much or too little.

I never do my homework or think about my future plans.

And today for breakfast, I had a candy cane and a juicebox.

Uuuuuuurrrrgggggghhhhhh,

I guess we should just be glad that I had breakfast, honestly. 

But, yeah. This is not news. We all know I make bad life choices. That is an accepted fact. Me and my bad choices, getting here five minutes late with starbucks. But the starbucks is actually apple juice and a candy cane because that is apparently how I roll.

Thanksgiving happened. Thanksgiving was good. I cooked stir fry in a wok because apparently I can cook anything so long as it is tangentially related to stir fry.

Ah, my job. Six more months at my job and I never have to be grudgingly polite to a member of a Ball State sports team ever again. 

Anyway. 

Finals week is coming up. I am not actually all the worried. The less preparation I put into something, the better it seems to go so...yeah. Studying isn't something that I am planning on doing, I'm not about that life.

This blog isn't making much sense or addressing anything of importance. If anything, it was kind of legitimately depressing, due to my lack of direction and healthy life choices.

Mkay. Class is over. I'm going to go find food, despite the fact that I left my wallet at home. 

This is going to be an adventure. 

The One True Elder Fish

This class, guys,

This claaaaaaasssss.

It is so boring. I've been in here for thirteen weeks. Three hours a week for thirteen weeks...that's like a lot of hours. 39 hours, according to the Google search I did just now.

I mean, I've only been in class for like 30 of those hours, but still. I've been in here longer than a full day and I have yet to learn like anything. I've learned that this professor is horrible and that negative learning is a thing that is possible.

I have lost knowledge in this class. It has had a negative impact on my brain.

It's bad too because I feel like this guys is legitimately trying to do well. If he was being lazy or whatever, I would feel perfectly okay sitting in my corner and resenting him. But I've come to realize that this is him trying his best.

So now I have to sit in my corner and feel awkward.

It's not all bad. There's a certain type of solidarity that you form with a room full of other people who have to endure a terrible professor with you. Like, I don't really talk all that much to the other people in my classes, but in this class you can just catch someone's eye and they'll nod at you with a look in their eye that says, "I understand, fellow student. This guy is the worst. This class is the worst. Let us suffer in silence together like the brave soldiers we are."

One of the guys in my class is literally a former solider. So he is really good at that look.

Ugh.

I just hate being here. Sad thing is, this is far from the first class I've had like this. In my three and a half years of college, I've had like three professors I legitimately liked, a lot I was more or less ambivalent about and then like at least a third who were just staggeringly incompetent.

(I'm aware I went from numbers to guesstimation to, like, fractions. Shut up, my school sucks.)

But, yeah. Ball State. Mediocrity redefined.

I'm thinking that after I graduate I might write them an angry letter and demand my money back. College has a thirty day money back guarantee, right? Or am I getting it confused with sweaters again? Yeah, I think the money back thing is about sweaters. Never mind.

Speaking of graduation, that is a thing that is happening soon. Like, that's about six months away. Then I am supposed to join the adult world. With, like, a job and things. And hey potential employers for sociology students who I know read my blog...I am totally available.

Seriously, though. I only have this degree because I kept changing majors, but also kept taking sociology electives. I realized this summer that the only way I would be able to graduate on time would be with a sociology degree.

So, now I have this degree almost?

And I have seriously no idea what I am supposed to do with it.

It's not like there are sociology shops on every corner. I can picture myself now, begging by the highway with a sign that says "WILL EXPLAIN SOCIOLOGICAL CONCEPTS FOR FOOD."

Errrruuuuugggghhhhh.

This class is still going on. I think that we've slipped into a black hole. Time has stopped. We've reached the event horizon.

I'm bored, I'm bored, I'm bored.

I went fishing this weekend. I'm aware that there was no transition there, but I couldn't come up with one and I wanted to talk about fishing.

So, fishing. Yes.

My dad was with me. He makes a big deal about all of the fish that we catch. It's very nice, especially for my little brother. But he makes an even bigger deal about the fish that we don't catch.

According to my father, every fish that we don't catch is roughly the size of malnourished elephant.

Like, if  we catch a fish he'll be all like, "wow! great catch, this fish is literally the biggest fish I've ever seen, excellent work everyone, we really came together as a team."

But if a fish gets away it's like, "too bad, that was the spawn of cthulu, the one true elder fish. the fish of legend and myth. forever we shall be haunted by the fishy glory that was almost ours this day!"

Yeah, my dad is great.

But, anyway. I am not skilled at fishing. I was not aware that there was any skill involved. But based on the results that I had, there is skill involved and I do not have it.

 I also do not really enjoy fishing. I mean, I've been fishing before, but not for the past couple of months. And I completely forgot how insanely boring it was.

This happens all of the time. I do something, think it's boring, stop doing it and forget about. But then a couple of months will pass, I'll forget about it and then I'll decide that I need to try again. It's a vicious cycle.

This has happened with knitting, drawing, playing piano and waking up early enough to curl my hair. And probably a lot of other things. We've established that my memory is not the most reliable thing.

This blog is fairly short. But class is over in like five minutes and I have important things to go do. Like more classwork for this stupid school. I am going to graduate. I don't care how stupid things get. I don't care what sort of insane shenanigans I have to put up with.

I will graduate and then never, ever come back to Muncie ever again.

Welcome to the Line Police

So I've been reading my old blogs lately. 

They really, really suck. I was terrible at writing and at attempting to be funny. Past Danielle is kind of a moron. A moron who spent too much money and left me in poverty. 

But, yeah. My old blogs. Are the worst. I mean, I'm not going to delete them because they're fascinating in a morbid and horrible kind of way. But, seriously. It is embarrassing to read them and think that, at one point, they were the product me actually trying my best. 

Ugh, past Danielle you financially irresponsibly moron. 

So I need to add a new part of my job title. 

In addition to being Danielle, stir fryer extraordinaire, I am now also Danielle, the line police. 

Let me explain. Yesterday at work, two of the football players came up at about the same time. I only had one skillet open. So, like the mature adults that they are, they both started bitching at me about being there first. I told them to figure it out themselves. I am a stir fry cook, not a line monitor. 

Five minutes later, they were still talking over each other and shoving like five-year-olds. It was stupid. 

I proposed rock-paper-scissors, but that was apparently too much of a game of chance. Eventually I just started cooking one of them and ignored the cries of dismay. 

It was so annoying! I don't get paid enough to stir fry, let alone to settle petty disputes among college aged people. And seriously, peeps, you can't decide who gets to go next?

You are supposed to be adults! You are supposed to be adults with at least some of a college education! My little brother who is six and terribly sarcastic has better manners than you! 

I got really, really angry. Like probably unreasonably angry. I may or may not have yelled that them that they were really pissing me off and they needed to act their age or leave. 

Customer service, oh yeah. 

But, no, it's been kind of simmering just under the surface for a while now, though. I've had to say the stupidest things during my work with the football players. A list for your perusal: 

"No, you can't touch that! It's raw meat, you idiot!" 

"Please stop dancing and take your food." 

"No, you can't touch that either! It will burn you!" 

"No, I'm not on the menu." 

"Yes the olive oil is extra virgin. Congratulations you got me to say virgin. Good job. Must be a quite an achievement for you." 

"I don't care if you're hungover, I can't make it cook faster." 

"I'm not going to take your order if you sing it at me," 

And that's just from, like, the last two weeks. I hate the football players. They suck. And are the worst. 

Ugh. 

But, outside of work everything is mostly fine. I'm still living off of ramen and canned vegetables, but I'm kind of getting used to it. You can make ramen fancier by adding vegetables. 

It's, like, poverty-shic. 

Today in my sociology of gender class the professor asked if anyone wasn't planning on getting married. I was the only one who raised my hand. In a class of like two-hundred people. It was really awkward because the professor asked me to explain why. 

Explaining the fact that I am antisocial and could not spend all of my time with one person without murdering them was kind of hard to explain. In, like, a sociologically relevant way. Also in a way that did not make me sound insane. 

Okay, I think that's a good note to leave on. 

Or, as good as it ever gets around here. 

Merry Homecoming

Happy Homecoming week, people. 

It's that time of year again. The time of year when people who care about school spirit get hella obnoxious and the rest of us get hella annoyed. 

No, I won't go to the game. No, you yelling at me to go to the game is not going to change my mind. In fact, it is likely going to do the opposite. I was 100% sure I wasn't going before. Now I would literally rather die than go to the stupid game. 

I make the football players stir fry every day. I don't need anymore time with them. We're good as is. 

But, yeah, homecoming. I am celebrating by, you know, going home. 

I hate campus during homecoming weekend. Everyone is loud and drunk and spirited. I mean, I would understand a little more if my school didn't suck. But,..my school does suck. So...what's the point, really? 

In other news, I've been living off of about $400 a month of late. I was supposed to get student loans. That did not happen. So I have been living off of the wages of my minimum wage job. It sucks.

My rent is more than my paycheck. So I have to beg money from people. Like a beggar. Or something. It is hella unfortunate. HELLA. UNFORTUNATE.

But, yeah, I've been eating a lot of peanut butter sandwiches and ramen because those two things are super cheap. Last year I ate salmon and coscous, the trendy foods of the upper middle class. Now I am languishing and suriving on canned corn that I bought last year for reasons I can't remember.

I can't buy anything I don't like 100% need.

Like, that includes textbooks. Being in college classes without textbooks for said college classes sucks. Granted, I think my school problems have more to do with me sitting here and blogging during lectures.

Ugh. Everything sucks lately.

Speaking of everything, the weather is getting cold again. Now, normally I would be annoyed with this. Cold weather means I have to wear real pants all the time and that my walk to work is now cold in addition to being mind-numbingly boring. But this year I am excited because cold weather means that all the bugs die.

And that no more bugs will try to make their homes in  my apartment. Yay for no more bugs in my apartment.

I hate bugs, 

Today, I got a quiz back in a class that I pay the opposite of attention in. I got an A on it and I have no idea how. The professor wrote "good job!" on it. I really wanted to do finger guns at him and say, "no, good job to you sir. you made a quiz that i was able to pass after paying no attention in your class. so...good job." 

Speaking of jobs, we've got a whole bunch of new kids starting at work lately. It's weird. Who starts a job in the middle of semester? I mean, what were you doing up until this point? Did you just now realize you needed a job? Did you get fired from some different job?

Anyway. It's an adjustment. I kind of like it because I get to tell other people what to do because I have been there longer and I know stuff. I don't like it because I am horrible at being in charge. It devolves into yelling and violence pretty quick. 

Some of the kids who've started at work seem cool. Some of them seem boring. Some of them seem awful. One of them came up to me yesterday and started telling me about how he trips on acid all of the time. 

It was, like, not prompted by anything at all. I was just leaning up against the counter and doing my stir fry shtick and he comes up and starts telling me about his drug usage. I was so confused. I was not wearing my "tell me about your illegal activities" shirt. I was not wearing my secret acid-user club pin. 

I am the worst person to tell your drug stories to. Seriously. I never know what people want from me. Usually I do a thumbs up. I'm not into the scene. I don't do drugs because I was in DARE and also because I assume that drugs are expensive? Probably? 

I'm a criminal justice major, sort of. I should probably know. 

Whatevs. I will continue to listen to the drug stories that are said at me and kind of shrug awkwardly in response to them. 

Okie doke then. 

Laterz. 

School Shopping AKA Blatant Thievery

I am so done with school guys.

I thought I was done before.

No. That was not being done. That was like being begun or something. 

It's just...look, I didn't school shop at all this year. The backpack I'm using is one that I literally stole from my dad's classroom. I have one notebook. It's the one that I've had since my freshman year of college and it has like a dozen pieces of paper left inside of it. I have one folder. I stole it from my mom's classroom. There are power rangers on it. I have three pens and they are all purple. 

I am not taking this very seriously. 

But, yeah, I'm not like failing out or anything. Which is legitimately surprising to me based on the amount of attention I pay in classes and the amount of effort I put into my school work. 

My GPA is honestly not that bad. 

I keep getting invited to presentations about grad school cause I'm apparently in the top percentile of my major. This is completely baffling to me. 

I made paper airplanes in class today instead of taking notes! I've just started texting people relentlessly in class whether they text me back or not! It turns into a dark and sometimes rhyming monologue after a while. Or is it a rap? Am I rapping? 

This is what you do to me, Ball State. I don't even know if I can rap and it's all your fault. 

Work is going...ehhhhhhh. Work is going. That's about it. 

I still don't have my loan money. So I'm paying my rent and stuff with the money I make at my minimum wage job. That I only work like twenty hours a week at. It sucks. It sucks a lot. 

Ugh. I just can't wait to graduate. And then to be poor and hungry and bored in some different place. But legit I'm probs gonna move home, work and do grad school online/at somewhere close to me. 

Yay. More school and poverty. 

In other news, I've started to watch Star Trek. I watched it a lot when I was really young and it didn't make any sense. Watching it now that I have, like, a good grasp on the English language has been easier. 

It's cheesy. The special effects are awful. The plots are predictable. The acting is funny when it isn't supposed to be. 

I LOVE IT. 

I think I'm getting nerdier and nerdier as I get older. It's a problem. 

Or maybe not. 

I don't care. 

I care at so few things at this point. 

Like this class I'm in right now. It's about globalization. It's been like eight weeks at this point. I am still unsure of what globalization actually is. 

Yaaaaaay.

So, Halloween is coming up. Halloween is my Favorite Holiday (it is Capitalized because it is Important). And now that I am 21 I can go to Halloween parties with alcohol! 

Getting drunk in my batman costume is on my list of Top Five Favorite Things to Do. I don't know what the other four are. They probably involve sleep, food, books and video games. Not necessarily in that order. 

But, yeah. That's what's going on with me. I am as much of an unfocused mess as I usually am. I'm just, like, more meta about it lately. Oh no. I'm becoming self-aware. 

Am I jumping the shark? 

Maybe. 

But I think we've established that I do not care. 

Crumpets and Enthusiastic Crying

I HAVE SUCH EXCITING NEWS. 

Well, you probably won't think that its exciting. I mean, I do. I think its very exciting. But...honestly, it will probably not change your daily lives one way or the other. 

Anyway. I get to work stir fry on Mondays now tooooo! Yay! No more dishroom. It's all stir fry all the time. Awww yeeeeah. 

But, there is a downside to my exciting news. 

They're back, you guys.

The football players. They're back at my job and everything about my life is stupid now.

 Also I keep running out of stuff thanks to their insatiable appetite. And, see, that wouldn't be a problem if they were cool about it. But they're all like, "are you sure you don't have more?" 

And I'm like, "Yes I'm sure. If I had more I would be serving you them and not telling you this." 

And then they always say, "do you have more in the back?" 

Why is it that people think the back of my dining hall is some sort of magical land of milk and honey where there are shrimps and noodles for all? The streets are not paved with rice. The water fountains don't flow with general tso's sauce. Erugh. Can you imagine that? That would be so gross. It would get all gunked up and it wouldn't flow it would just kind of gloop out. That's the sound it would make too. Gloop, gloop gloop. 

Yuuuuuuck. 

But no, it's actually kind of awesome because if I run out of noodles or something they all act like I took the entire pan of noodles and ate them all specifically so there would be none left for the football team. They just look at me with these horribly sad expressions that say "why, stir fry girl? why would you hurt us in this way?"

BECAUSE ITS FUN YOU LOSERS!!! HAHAHAHAHA!!

I had to, like, be physically restrained from telling them "noodles are for winners" after they lost their game last week. In hindsight, it was probably good that I did not say that. 

They would likely try to beat me up. And I'm pretty sure they'd win. I mean, I talk big but I am not physically gifted in areas of strength, speed or anything else useful. 

Anyway. 

School is happening. It is a thing I am dealing with.

And by dealing I mean putting in the minimum amount of effort to not fail. So, that's a thing that is happening.

I've also done like a minimum amount of homework, like, at my home. I do it during other classes. Because I am trash who does not listen during lectures.

I'm sorry! They're so boring! And paying attention is so stupid!

I'm in class right now, like, writing this. I figure that it's better than my usual practice of typing curse words over and over and then turning them rainbow colors. 

I also have a really bad habit of doing things like texting people or playing stupid games on my iPhone.

Speaking of my iphone, my iphone is broken.

Like, the screen is completely shattered. It keeps cutting my fingers and/or ears. Of course I still use it because I am addicted to technology. 

In other sad news, my sister left the country. 

She's in England now, with all the tea and crumpets a person could wish for. No, but I took the day off of work and classes on Monday so I could escort her there along with my family. 

It was a bad choice. I failed to account for the fact that I am a really unattractive crier. Like, there's way too much snot involved. Also a lot of Darth Vader-esque gasping. I do not cry pretty. But I do cry really enthusiastically, I guess? 

Luckily, crying isn't a thing I do a whole lot. Usually only when I get mad, I don't get mad very often, but when I do there is lots of yelling and lots of tears. But I really like my sister and the fact that she drives me around! I am going to miss her and her car very much. So I got sad. And I cried. Like an idiot. 

I feel like the greater Indianapolis area is judging me. 

But I'm hoping to visit England at some point during this year. See my sister. Be a horrible American tourist. You know, all fun things. 

But before that I have to get a passport. 

And then fly on a plane. I hate planes. They are big, flying death-boxes...uh, coffins. They're called coffins. 

And I, as a person who is alive and junk, am generally not a fan of being in coffins. So, you know. Pros and cons. 

Ugh, I should go. My professor is bitch-facing at me. I think he knows that I am paying the opposite of attention. 

Okay...I will keep you updated as to the status of the football players and my stir fry escapades. You know. The important things. 

Later.