Today...
This is my first blog in a while, isn't it? I would apologize, but admitting I'm wrong about things isn't really in my wheelhouse.
Neither is photography, swing dancing, yoga or broadsword fighting.
But, anyhow, there is a reason, two reasons in fact, behind my two week hiatus.
This month has been straight-up weird. That's the first reason. I could just stop there because February is basically the worst. Everyone understands that.
But the other reason, a much more serious one, is writer's block.
Now, as a rule, I have always scorned those who pled "writer's block" as a reason that they aren't writing. In my honest opinion, "writer's block" is for wimps.
But still, I have been suffering from a hard core case of all-around, all-the-time writer's block. A lot of it is due to the fact that I have been composing an 8-12 (so really, 7 and a half) page research paper. When I have to write for school...the writing-related joy goes out of me and I'm as limp and as sad as a impotent jellyfish.
...that got a bit racy. I apologize.
But, anyhow, my aforementioned research paper is about "internet addiction." I know. Shut up. It's a stupid topic.
(As a side note, I was originally writing a paper called "Liars, Tramps and Brothels, Ho My!: How Prostitution Shaped Modern America" and I was having a really good time with it. My professor...not so much.)
But now I'm stuck writing a dumb ole paper on how people are addicted, not to drugs, not to alcohol, but to online shopping/gambling/things-that-relate-to-prostitution. (See, I'm getting my whores in there.)
But, I hate this stupid research paper. It's slowly draining the life out of me. Rather like Stephanie Meyer slowly drains the life out of people unfortunate enough to stumble upon her series of vampire books.
Yeah for analogies!
In other news, I accidentally wore a see-through shirt today. And because it's warm, I don't have a jacket. I just have a shirt. That everyone can see through. And a lime-green bra.
Isn't it awesome to not be me?
I'm sure it is. You get to have opaque shirts, no writer's block and non-stupid research topics.
Also, happy Leap Day. Does Leap Day count as a holiday? If it does, I need to call my family and argue with them. Cause...that's what we do on holidays.
Leap Day is stupid. So is February. I'm SO GLAD it's over.
Danielle OUT.
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Day 184 of College: Russian Super Tortoises
Today...
It's a study day. And, because it's a study day, I'm sitting in the library and typing a blog to avoid doing actual work! Huzzah!
This seems to be a pattern for me. Most of the blogs you read were, in fact, written during my anthropology class or during my "study days."
But, today, I actually should be studying. Because, my first test in my anthropology class is tomorrow and, as I've previously stated, I am rarely listening in my anthropology class and more often am just typing a blog and nodding thoughtfully if the professor happens to look my way.
So, I literally know nothing about anthropology. Other than the fact that it's a particularly long word. I only took the class because I need a science class to graduate and someone told me that there was no math involved.
Math is the worst. Also, morning classes are worst. Guess who has a math class at 8 am on Tuesdays and Thursdays?
I'm not even going to bother typing "this girl" because we all know that it, in fact, is. My 8 am math class also happens to be my only class on Tuesdays and Thursdays and, due to my intense love of napping and my crippling facebook addiction, I don't get a lot done on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Hence today's study day.
Anyhow, the major question has once again come up. Stupid major question. It's like a greedy drunk ex-boyfriend, always showing up when I least expect it. Granted, I have never had an ex-boyfriend, greedy, drunk or otherwise, so I'm mostly going off of blind conjecture and lifetime movies.
But, yeah. I'm thinking criminal justice because 1. I would be a kickass lawyer and 2. I would be a kickass cop.
The world would be a safer place if I had a law degree, a gun and a police car. Don't you agree?
Who cares if you agree? I'm going to go and get a stupid college degree just so I can fulfill a petty, childish whim. It's almost like I'm a musical theatre major! Boom.
(Seriously, though. I love you, musical theatre majors. If I had parents to pay for my college or the brains/talent/political clout needed to get a scholarship, I'd totally be a musical theatre major too. Or a glass blowing major because, what the hell.)
My attempts to learn Russian are, sadly, not going all the well. The un-english looking letters are seriously hard to pronounce. I try and sound like I have a frog in my throat. And I don't mean that as a figure of speech. I mean that as I sound like I am literally choking on a live amphibian.
I had a pet frog once. His name was Lysander. He ate a cricket that was bigger than him and died.
All my pets seem to die horrible deaths.
Except Pope John Paul, of course. Pope John Paul is immortal. And he has super powers. He's the Russian Desert Tortoise version of Superman.
True story.
Danielle OUT.
It's a study day. And, because it's a study day, I'm sitting in the library and typing a blog to avoid doing actual work! Huzzah!
This seems to be a pattern for me. Most of the blogs you read were, in fact, written during my anthropology class or during my "study days."
But, today, I actually should be studying. Because, my first test in my anthropology class is tomorrow and, as I've previously stated, I am rarely listening in my anthropology class and more often am just typing a blog and nodding thoughtfully if the professor happens to look my way.
So, I literally know nothing about anthropology. Other than the fact that it's a particularly long word. I only took the class because I need a science class to graduate and someone told me that there was no math involved.
Math is the worst. Also, morning classes are worst. Guess who has a math class at 8 am on Tuesdays and Thursdays?
I'm not even going to bother typing "this girl" because we all know that it, in fact, is. My 8 am math class also happens to be my only class on Tuesdays and Thursdays and, due to my intense love of napping and my crippling facebook addiction, I don't get a lot done on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Hence today's study day.
Anyhow, the major question has once again come up. Stupid major question. It's like a greedy drunk ex-boyfriend, always showing up when I least expect it. Granted, I have never had an ex-boyfriend, greedy, drunk or otherwise, so I'm mostly going off of blind conjecture and lifetime movies.
But, yeah. I'm thinking criminal justice because 1. I would be a kickass lawyer and 2. I would be a kickass cop.
The world would be a safer place if I had a law degree, a gun and a police car. Don't you agree?
Who cares if you agree? I'm going to go and get a stupid college degree just so I can fulfill a petty, childish whim. It's almost like I'm a musical theatre major! Boom.
(Seriously, though. I love you, musical theatre majors. If I had parents to pay for my college or the brains/talent/political clout needed to get a scholarship, I'd totally be a musical theatre major too. Or a glass blowing major because, what the hell.)
My attempts to learn Russian are, sadly, not going all the well. The un-english looking letters are seriously hard to pronounce. I try and sound like I have a frog in my throat. And I don't mean that as a figure of speech. I mean that as I sound like I am literally choking on a live amphibian.
I had a pet frog once. His name was Lysander. He ate a cricket that was bigger than him and died.
All my pets seem to die horrible deaths.
Except Pope John Paul, of course. Pope John Paul is immortal. And he has super powers. He's the Russian Desert Tortoise version of Superman.
True story.
Danielle OUT.
Monday, February 13, 2012
Day 181 of College: 3, 2, 1...
Today...
It's almost V-day, people. Signs of it are popping up everywhere. There are happy couples making out all over the place and clubs around campus selling flowers and chocolate like normal people sell crack.
It's disgusting, really.
I will, of course, be hiding in my room for the duration of tomorrow and eating all sorts of foods that are terrible for me. Speaking of terrible food, my birthday happened this weekend.
Guess who's nineteen years single?
You guessed it. As per usual, it's this girl.
But, on this Valentines-eve, there is some good news. I've managed to get into what was seriously the last single dorm left on campus for next year. Huzzah!
I'm a terrible roommate. Seriously. I sleep at odd hours. My phone alarm likes to go off when I don't want it to. I sing to my fish. I take up all the room in the minifridge with my greek yogurts. And I'm terribly vain, so I basically live in front of the mirror.
Next year, no one will have to suffer my idiosyncrasies. Except for my fish. They don't have legs so there's no way for them to run! Ha!
In other news, I managed to spill some girl's coffee on her, all of her books and three other people today in my Econ class. I'm great.
I got all flustered and waved my hands like some deranged giant chicken. After apologizing at least 50 times, I ran from the classroom, forgetting all of my books and my jacket in the process. So I had to go back and apologize some more before getting my stupid stuff.
I'm the worst.
Anyhow, does selling little debbie cakes count as a "bake sale?" No? That's what I thought. But it didn't stop the "earth-based religions" club from selling cosmic brownies and only cosmic brownies at their Valentine's Day Bake Sale.
Seriously, earth-based religions club? Valentine's day? More like forever alone day, am I right? Right?
No...they still get more action than me. Gah. My life is a black hole of suckiness.
Anyhow, unhappy valentine's greeting from your favorite newly 19-year-old blogger.
I'll see you all tomorrow.
Danielle OUT.
It's almost V-day, people. Signs of it are popping up everywhere. There are happy couples making out all over the place and clubs around campus selling flowers and chocolate like normal people sell crack.
It's disgusting, really.
I will, of course, be hiding in my room for the duration of tomorrow and eating all sorts of foods that are terrible for me. Speaking of terrible food, my birthday happened this weekend.
Guess who's nineteen years single?
You guessed it. As per usual, it's this girl.
But, on this Valentines-eve, there is some good news. I've managed to get into what was seriously the last single dorm left on campus for next year. Huzzah!
I'm a terrible roommate. Seriously. I sleep at odd hours. My phone alarm likes to go off when I don't want it to. I sing to my fish. I take up all the room in the minifridge with my greek yogurts. And I'm terribly vain, so I basically live in front of the mirror.
Next year, no one will have to suffer my idiosyncrasies. Except for my fish. They don't have legs so there's no way for them to run! Ha!
In other news, I managed to spill some girl's coffee on her, all of her books and three other people today in my Econ class. I'm great.
I got all flustered and waved my hands like some deranged giant chicken. After apologizing at least 50 times, I ran from the classroom, forgetting all of my books and my jacket in the process. So I had to go back and apologize some more before getting my stupid stuff.
I'm the worst.
Anyhow, does selling little debbie cakes count as a "bake sale?" No? That's what I thought. But it didn't stop the "earth-based religions" club from selling cosmic brownies and only cosmic brownies at their Valentine's Day Bake Sale.
Seriously, earth-based religions club? Valentine's day? More like forever alone day, am I right? Right?
No...they still get more action than me. Gah. My life is a black hole of suckiness.
Anyhow, unhappy valentine's greeting from your favorite newly 19-year-old blogger.
I'll see you all tomorrow.
Danielle OUT.
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
Day 176 of College: Special Skills and Sportulas
Today...
I have news. I got lemonade from chick-fil-a today...and I didn't even spill it on a hot boy. Huzzah. It's a Wednesday miracle.
Anyhow. I've decided to become bilingual. The first two attempts didn't go so hot. Once, I tried to learn Latin. I can say the Pledge of Allegiance in Latin. To this day, it remains the only thing I can say in Latin (oh, and sportula which means "small gift basket").
My other attempt to become bilingual was with Spanish. I have tried and failed to learn Spanish many times. I've taken Spanish One not once, not twice, but thrice. Thrice times of Spanish! Madness, I know. When you add in the fact that my sister has almost graduated college with a Spanish Education degree, it gets kinda sad.
Regardless of my many language failures, I've decided to try again! I've decided that I'll either go for German (because that's where my Dad's family is from) or French (because that's where my Mom's family is from) or Russian (because what the hell.)
I'm leaning towards Russian because they have letters that look not like english letters and because the "what the hell" factor in my life could use some increasing.
Yeah.
Moving on to other things, I've noticed recently that I have no special skills. I can't whistle. I can't roll my r's. I can only snap with one hand. My break dancing is only sub-par. My bird calls leave something to be desired. And, as I've previously stated, I only know one language and that language is English.
Lame.
I need to develop some special skills. Well, I am rather good at making sandwiches. I'm also good at punching, hitting and biting. And, let us not overlook my most special of skills, my ability to remain single for nineteen years.
Yes, I'm not 19 yet, but I'm rounding up. The chances of me getting a boyfriend by this Saturday are about .00000000000000000000000000000000000001, in statistical terms.
Anyhow, hope you are all having a lovely February even though I am not.
Danielle OUT.
P.S. Wanna read about my thoughts on football? I knew you did. Click here.
I have news. I got lemonade from chick-fil-a today...and I didn't even spill it on a hot boy. Huzzah. It's a Wednesday miracle.
Anyhow. I've decided to become bilingual. The first two attempts didn't go so hot. Once, I tried to learn Latin. I can say the Pledge of Allegiance in Latin. To this day, it remains the only thing I can say in Latin (oh, and sportula which means "small gift basket").
My other attempt to become bilingual was with Spanish. I have tried and failed to learn Spanish many times. I've taken Spanish One not once, not twice, but thrice. Thrice times of Spanish! Madness, I know. When you add in the fact that my sister has almost graduated college with a Spanish Education degree, it gets kinda sad.
Regardless of my many language failures, I've decided to try again! I've decided that I'll either go for German (because that's where my Dad's family is from) or French (because that's where my Mom's family is from) or Russian (because what the hell.)
I'm leaning towards Russian because they have letters that look not like english letters and because the "what the hell" factor in my life could use some increasing.
Yeah.
Moving on to other things, I've noticed recently that I have no special skills. I can't whistle. I can't roll my r's. I can only snap with one hand. My break dancing is only sub-par. My bird calls leave something to be desired. And, as I've previously stated, I only know one language and that language is English.
Lame.
I need to develop some special skills. Well, I am rather good at making sandwiches. I'm also good at punching, hitting and biting. And, let us not overlook my most special of skills, my ability to remain single for nineteen years.
Yes, I'm not 19 yet, but I'm rounding up. The chances of me getting a boyfriend by this Saturday are about .00000000000000000000000000000000000001, in statistical terms.
Anyhow, hope you are all having a lovely February even though I am not.
Danielle OUT.
P.S. Wanna read about my thoughts on football? I knew you did. Click here.
Monday, February 6, 2012
Day 174 of College: F is for Football
Today...
Woe is me and all that. Eight days til the worst day of the year. Meh.
Five days until my birthday. 19 isn't an exciting birthday, though. I can't drink or rent a car yet, so...there's two of my goals that will have to wait a bit longer to be fulfilled.
So, I've been playing eenie meenie miney major again. I'm on Criminal Justice right now. Seriously, how much more awesome would the world be if I had a gun? Or at least my own Enforcer.
That'll probably change in a week though. I'll keep you posted.
So, the superbowl was in Indianapolis this year. Apparently, they can do that even though our football team wasn't playing. I don't understand.
It's okay, I'm a girl. Girls don't have to understand sports-related-things. Yeah for gender-based stereotypes!
But, anyway, every single person in Indiana made a point to visit Indy and participate in this whole "oh yeah, football totally matters and is important," delusion that was sweeping through our lovely state's capitol.
Except, of course, me.
Even my family went! Seriously. And, as per usual, they didn't bother informing me. It's just like when they go on vacation and leave me home "totally not on accident, Danielle. We love you just as much as our small army of other kids."
I'm so alone. And single. And alone.
Moving on. Back to the Superbowl and all that. There were famous people in Indy. I should have been there! I'm a famous person! I was Jan in Grease in my senior year of high school!
My refusal to let go of high school aside, I'm very upset that I didn't understand what a big deal the Superbowl actually was. I mean, when you look at it from my perspective...it's a football game. I didn't really comprehend that famous people would, you know, care.
Maybe my inability to understand the complex and delicate inner-workings of football games and their importance to society is why I'm soon to be 19 years single.
Though, I think my abrasive personality, oddly short thumbs and incessant complaining might have something to do with it.
...Nah. It's probably the football thing.
Danielle OUT.
Woe is me and all that. Eight days til the worst day of the year. Meh.
Five days until my birthday. 19 isn't an exciting birthday, though. I can't drink or rent a car yet, so...there's two of my goals that will have to wait a bit longer to be fulfilled.
So, I've been playing eenie meenie miney major again. I'm on Criminal Justice right now. Seriously, how much more awesome would the world be if I had a gun? Or at least my own Enforcer.
That'll probably change in a week though. I'll keep you posted.
So, the superbowl was in Indianapolis this year. Apparently, they can do that even though our football team wasn't playing. I don't understand.
It's okay, I'm a girl. Girls don't have to understand sports-related-things. Yeah for gender-based stereotypes!
But, anyway, every single person in Indiana made a point to visit Indy and participate in this whole "oh yeah, football totally matters and is important," delusion that was sweeping through our lovely state's capitol.
Except, of course, me.
Even my family went! Seriously. And, as per usual, they didn't bother informing me. It's just like when they go on vacation and leave me home "totally not on accident, Danielle. We love you just as much as our small army of other kids."
I'm so alone. And single. And alone.
Moving on. Back to the Superbowl and all that. There were famous people in Indy. I should have been there! I'm a famous person! I was Jan in Grease in my senior year of high school!
My refusal to let go of high school aside, I'm very upset that I didn't understand what a big deal the Superbowl actually was. I mean, when you look at it from my perspective...it's a football game. I didn't really comprehend that famous people would, you know, care.
Maybe my inability to understand the complex and delicate inner-workings of football games and their importance to society is why I'm soon to be 19 years single.
Though, I think my abrasive personality, oddly short thumbs and incessant complaining might have something to do with it.
...Nah. It's probably the football thing.
Danielle OUT.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)