How (Not) to Make Good Life Choices

The weather's up to double digits, you guys.

 #heatwave

There is supposedly a giant monster storm headed my way next week. So...that sucks. I almost want to have kids someday for the sole purpose of telling them I walked miles uphill in the snow to go to school and work. 

Because I legitimately do! There are hills involved in my walk. I have a hole in my favorite pair of shoes. I own a newsboy cap. I am essentially an orphan in the 1930s. 

So...valentines day is coming up.

Ugh.

I happens to be the weekend after my birthday. I plan on going up to Purdue and going to the bars with my friends. It's probably really sad that going to bars is less unhealthy than my usual coping methods. They involve me literally hiding under my bed and eating a pint of ice cream while listening to I Can't Make You Love Me on repeat. For hours.

Eh...I actually care less about the whole perpetually-single thing than I used to. I mean, even if I had a boyfriend, I wouldn't know what to do with him. I'd be like, "hey there, significant other! is it cool if we only see each other three days a week or whatever? and when we do see each other, is it okay if I mostly ignore you?" Because seeing the same person every day of the week for hours at a time...ugh. 

That sounds all kinds of horrible. 

Moving on...I made the executive decision last night to not sleep. I had to read, like, twelve court cases for my sociology of law class and write summaries and critiques on them. You know, it would have been fine if I would of started right when I got off work at 9. But I decided that watching a documentary about killer whales on netflix was something that I had to do before I could start. 

I don't know. It wasn't a good life choice. 

But, yes. I didn't finish until like 6 in the AM, so I just didn't sleep. Again, I don't know why I did that. It was another poor life choice. 

When I got home from classes at 1, the coffee wore off  and I just crashed. It was almost embarrassing. I don't think I've ever been as happy to see anything as I was to see my bed after I got home. And when I say I completely crashed, I mean it. I slept for seven hours with my coat, hat, gloves, shoes and backpack still on. 

When I woke up, I was very confused. I didn't know where I was. My scarf was sort of choking me. I was sort of sure I'd been kidnapped. 

I don't know why anyone would want to kidnap me, honestly. I have no money and no marketable skills. Other than my ability to cook stir fry. Someone might kidnap me for my stir fry skills. 

Anyway, speaking of my job...when I get bored at work, I like to do weird stuff with the food in my line. It's not creepy weird, it's just strange. Like, I'll make towers out of country fried steaks or see how many frozen shrimps I can stack on top of each other. 

(My record is five.) 

But, no. Yesterday I built a tiny and adorable little city out of corn on the cobs. Or, erm, corn cobs, I guess is what normal people call them. Whatever. I had my corn on the cob city and it was great. I decided that its name was Cornatopia. And, I don't know, I thought that was really, really, extremely funny. 

I had to go sit down in the store room for a little while because I couldn't stop laughing and it was alarming people. Nobody else could seem to comprehend just how funny it was. Cornatopia. It's just...I don't even...it's so funny! How can you not laugh helplessly about that for like a quarter of an hour?

I'm not the weird one here. 

This isn't the first time my emotions at my job have succeeded at making others uncomfortable. Sometimes, when I cook things that have onions in them my eyes will water. My customers, who are mainly high schoolers, always get really freaked out and try to talk to me about my feelings. 

Sometimes, I tell them about the onions. Other times, I just roll with it and let random sixteen year olds go all therapist on me. 

I am not a good person. 

I am also a person who really needs to go make some circus waffles with my circus waffle maker. You see, I was far too busy sleeping today to eat. So...yes. I'm off to do that. 

The Consequences of Aging

I'm bored as hell.

This class...I'm starting to think that Thursday night blogs are going to be a regular thing. I am actively trying not to pay attention. Seriously. It's like I'm spiting the professor, Ball State and my student loans by getting absolutely nothing out of this class.

Meh. This sucks.

Anyway, I signed a lease for an apartment. So...that's good. And expensive. But also good. I'm gonna have my own kitchen and stuff, but no car. So, I'm not exactly sure how exactly I'm going to get the grocery store.

I mean, it's not like I'm going to take the bus. Someone might accidentally touch me or breathe my air and my many mental disorders won't let the shit fly.

 I'm joking.

(Or am I?)

My many issues aside, I need to start going to the gym again. (Or, like, for the first time. I haven't really been before.) But, no, I picked literally the only major that, like, requires you to be in relatively good physical shape. Apparently, fighting crime requires being able to run and also do push-ups. Who knew?

I currently get winded walking up stairs (or stair...one stair...isn't that just, like, a ledge? Or an uneven piece of ground?) But, whatever. All I know is that I have a ways (a very, very long ways) to go before I can run a mile and half like the FBI wants me to.

Anyway. I'm 20 in fours days...so that's a thing. I'm not really all that excited. I feel like once I'm not a teenager, a lot of the weird shit I do will be less acceptable.

Watching cartoons when you're a teenager? That's cool, bro. We get it. You're still young. You're just bored and tired of watching the Maury show. It's totally normal that you feel like watching a few episodes of spongebob now and then.

Once I'm 20 though...watching cartoons stops being understandable and starts being creepy. Same thing with being unemployed and single and obsessed with video games.

God...I'm still single. Gah. My life is the worst.

And to add fuel to my single-sadness fire, Valentines Day is coming up. I've got my sad playlist and carbs ready. Bring it on, you stupid day devoted to happiness that I'm not allowed to be a part of. Sometimes, I feel like being in a relationship gives you membership to some super-secret happiness club.

I want to be part of the super-secret happiness club!

But I feel like the things that I mentioned before (watching cartoons, being unemployed and being obsessed with video games) would kind of be detrimental to being in a relationship. Also, I hate feelings and talking about them. So...that doesn't help.

This class is slowly sucking the life out of me.

But, I should go and at least try to pay some sort of attention. Ha, I'm kidding. I'm going to go and online shop until this stupid class is over.

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 167 of College: Ready, Set, Debt!

Today...


I almost bought an ENFORCER on ebay! 


Then some jerk outbid me. Jerk. 


I have about, eh, $900 in my bank account right now. And while that may sound like a lot for a poor college student to have in her bank account...it's student-loan-money. So someday I'm going to have to pay all that money back. Also, interest. Lots and lots of interest. 


I had to take debt counseling classes online this summer. I'm totally serious. It was terrible. I'm already in thousands of dollars of debt...now you're going to make me take classes about being in debt too? 


Jerks. 


Anyway, if you wanted to see a fully compiled list of the annoying bitc...ahem, girls you meet at college, you can find it here. 


Moving on to other things...


Guess who has two oddly short thumbs and no boyfriend? 


...don't make me say it. 


Oh, fine. THIS GIRL. 


This girl is also coming up on the worst month of the year. February. 


I hate February for three very justifiable reasons. I also hate it for about three-dozen non-justifiable reasons, but I won't bore you with those. 


1. It can't spell February. So far, google chrome had corrected my attempts at spelling February to "fur brewery" and "fib rarely." So there's that reason. 


2. My birthday is in February. The 11th, to be exact. I am not someone who enjoys getting older. Not one bit. Because, really, every year I have to say I've spent another year of my life single. And, once you tell people you're 19 years single...they're going to start to ask what's wrong with you. (Beyond the obvious, of course.) 


3. Need I even type it? Valenti...ahem, SAD day is in February. (For those of you not in the know or in happy relationships, SAD day is Single's Awareness Day...day.) 


On the bright side, that is the one day a year that I can lie in bed like a slug all day, eat an entire quart of cookie dough ice cream, and listen to "I Can't Make You Love Me" on repeat and none of you are allowed to judge me. 


People will look at me and say "What the hell are you doing?" 


And I say, "I'm single." 


And then they flinch sympathetically and skip off to have a day filled with candy hearts and happiness. 


I know I'm starting this whole "countdown to Single's Awareness Day day" thing pretty early...but I'm pacing myself. We're gonna build up slowly, don't you worry. 


Anyway. There's homework and SAD day prepping to be done. 


Danielle OUT. 

Day 127 of College: Children of the Corn-mas

Today...

I'm in my mom's classroom. There are kindergarteners here. THEY'RE ALL STARING AT ME. It's incredibly creepy. The minute that I forget how much I dislike children, I look around and I'm like "Oh yeah, this is why I dislike children. THEY'RE FREAKING CREEPY."

Anyway.

I love being on break. I literally have to do nothing. Other than go to my little brother's christmas-holiday-pagent-thing. Hence the whole being in my mom's classroom thing. These kids keep staring at me...mehhhh...

No offense to people who, like, have kids and are fond of them. I'm sure your kids aren't creepy.

Moving on, the other day my little brother, who's eight years old, asked me why I didn't have a boyfriend. I informed him that it was because no boys like me. He didn't agree. He told me that the reason I didn't have a boyfriend was that I was too depressing.

"You have a depressing blog!" He insisted. "Be a little less depressing!"

...keep in mind that this kid is eight years old. When your eight-year-old brother tells you that the reason you're (still) alone is because you're too depressing, then you might be doing something wrong. I might be doing something wrong.

Whatever. I don't even care...I'm going to go listen to "I Can't Make You Love Me" and cry. It's what all the coolest happy non-depressing kids do.

Oh, wait. THE KIDS ARE STILL STARING AT ME. Scratch that plan. Let's keep blogging.

Christmas is only, what, four days away? Let my family's fights begin! As I have previously stated, my family fights like crazy during every single holiday. EVERY.SINGLE.ONE.

And with Christmas being, like, the king of the holidays, the fights on Christmas are always something to behold. Someone will end up with a broken leg and/or spirit. Probably both.

Well, I'm sure you'll be hearing from me soon if not later. Merry Christmas-Eve-Eve-Eve-Eve.

Danielle OUT.

Day Thirty-Seven of College: Crying and iMovie

Today...
I discovered iMovie!!!! (and cried a great deal for no apparent reason) Curious to know more? Watch the video below!

Yes, yes I know that the cuts are terrible...but I've only just discovered this lovely piece of technology! Give me some time...it'll be awesome. 


Danielle Out


P.S. I don't really want to be a phone sex operator. So...please don't call me. 

Day Twenty-Seven of College: Being Depressing is a Special Skill

Today...


I hate Ball State's wireless internet. Seriously. It takes, like, three hours for three minutes of video to load. I've yelled at my computer nine times today. On the bright side, I've downloaded Google Chrome on my Mac. Let the hilarious misspelling mishaps ensue. 


Anyway...college. Contrary to popular belief, not all of it is spent partying. Saturday and Sunday and most of Friday...I will admit that not much gets done at those times. But, Monday through Thursday...there are classes. And they expect us to LEARN. Ugh. Learning. Learning is for people who got 1910s or lower on their SATs (ahem...not me). 


Today in English, a class that I despise with a great passion, we were instructed to craft a resume. I filled out the education, work experience and the extracurriculars with no problems. Psh...that resume was pretty awesome from my perspective. At least, it was until I reached the special skills portion. That was when I realized that I have NO SPECIAL SKILLS. I can't speak a different language (made up or otherwise). I can't do karate. I can't even ski. Or say no to a third helping of steak or pumpkin pie. NO SKILLS. NO SKILLS AT ALL.


Well, not unless you count my ability to say the pledge of allegiance in latin (in my deep and soothing radio voice nonetheless) or my talent of describing mundane events with an astonishing amount of wit and clarity. That and the fact that I am very, very good-looking. 


(I wonder if statements like that are the reason that I have no friends.... Nah, that can't be it. I'm awesome. Everybody else is just intimidated. Right...that's why I spent most of the day curled up in a corner listening to the song "I Can't Make You Love Me" on repeat and crying. That's totally why.)


But, anyway, nobody seems to take me and my special skills seriously. Would it help if I told you I can eat ten saltine crackers at one time without any water? No? It figures. All the useful skills that I have and no one takes me seriously. 


This is madness. 


Absolute madness. 


Can you say the pledge of allegiance in Latin? Can you even spell allegiance? (it's okay...I couldn't either. Google Chrome corrected it to many outlandish and impractical things. No time for that now.) Can you be very very good-looking? I didn't think so.


I have to go. "I Can't Make You Love Me" is starting again and I feel a fresh wave of tears coming on. Oh, the pains of being a teenage girl. 


Danielle Out.