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.
Showing posts with label 19. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 19. Show all posts
Monday, February 13, 2012
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.
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