Juice, Polygamy, Screenplays and Appletinis

Sup.

It's a Thursday. It's cold outside.

So, you know, the usual things are happening. Bad weather, day that ends in y...check marks all around.

But, I turned 21 this week. So that is an exciting thing that happened. I drank some appletinis and bought some beer even though I really hate beer. So...I have that now. I'm not going to drink it, because it is twelve kinds of nasty, but I have it. And I am legally allowed to have it.

So suck on that, everyone younger than me. I might be likely to die sooner than you, but I have beer! Legally!

Right now I'm awkwardly lingering in a Starbucks trying to kill the forty minutes or so I have between classes and work. I figured it was write a blog or work on a screenplay, so...

Oh, you think I don't have a screenplay?

You're right. I don't have a screenplay. I have, like, a dozen of them.

But anyway, I wrote a pretty fabulous paper on polygamy the other day. And by pretty fabulous, I mean that halfway through, it turned into a self-righteous rant about how it was Perfectly Fine to be single and about how other people shouldn't force their life choices on me, oh my god Mom get off my case.

Yeah...

I probably should have rewritten it, but I didn't start it until two in the morning the night before. So really I'm just lucky I wrote anything at all. It was a bit of of a mess though, I'm not gonna lie. I think at one point I combined, like, three different sociologists into one mega-sociologist.

It worked for the Power Rangers. Why not sociologists?

I'll let you know about my grade. I wonder if it's possible to give someone a negative score for an assignment.

Anyway...time for a story.

Before I tell this story, vosotros need to understand something. I have a weirdly intense, probably majorly unhealthy, love of fruit juice. Two particular types, apple and cran-grape, stand above the rest. If I don't have a bottle of each in my fridge, my mental state is less than ideal.

I honestly think I might be a little bit cripplingly dependent on cran-grape and apple juice. They are literally the only items on my grocery list that I buy name-brand. I have money in my monthly budget set aside for juice-items.

My first alcoholic beverage was an appletini because of the possibility it might taste like apple juice.

But back to my story!

So, I turned 21 Tuesday. I had a bottle of wine that I got from my parents for my birthday and I decided that I was going to open that sucker and have a glass. I'm 21, dammit. I do what I want.

Because I am a liquor novice, me and the bottle opener got into a bit of a tussle. And by bit of a tussle, I mean I threw it at my wall and now I have a hole in my wall shaped like a bottle opener. So I gave up on the bottle opener and used a knife to cut the cork in half like a really lame ninja or something. Unfortunately, that made the cork fall into the bottle.

So now I had a bottle of wine with bits of cork floating in it. It was really, really frustrating. I laid down on my kitchen floor for a while and my cat Commander Shepurred started chewing on my toes. I needed a place to put my stupid wine. And I had ruined the stupid cork.

But...what was that? And empty apple juice container in my fridge? What luck!

And it was lucky. Until this morning when I wanted a drink of apple juice. The wine was vaguely apple juice colored and I was tired enough that it passed. So I just took a big drink of of it. Of wine. That I thought was apple juice.

It was literally the worst thing that has very happened to anyone ever. I spit wine all over my kitchen.

I had to eat, like, half a dozen waffles to make myself feel better.

Anyway, in other news, the ladies at work have started to offer me rides home. Instead of being a normal human and saying something like "oh, no thanks," or, I don't know, accepting the rides so I don't have to walk a mile and a half to get home, I felt the need to explain why I hate accepting rides from other people and that my Danielle-brand of craziness that makes me unwilling, or let's beyond honest, actually physically unable to accept help from other people.

I just really hate depending on other people for things. For anything at all. A lot of me wants to get a medical degree so I'll never have to ask a doctor for help. I hate ordering things in the mail because it means depending on another person to deliver the things to me. I hate asking my landlord to fix things because it means admitting that I can't fix the things by myself.

I have problems.

Problems that require me to go now and not twenty minutes from now because I am too stubborn to take the bus.

The snow awaits.

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 Five People You Meet During Finals Week

I hate everything. 

I should probably clarify that...

It's finals week, I'm stressed and the best I have to deal with my stress is to convert it into rage and then direct that rage at people I don't know. It's perfectly healthy, probably. 

Well, now that we've gotten my trademark negativity out of the way...it's time for another list-based post! 

Yay! 

Here it is...

The Five People You Meet During Finals Week

1. The Substance Abuser 

The Substance Abuser is easy to spot. They'll usually be dressed in sweatpants, a backwards baseball cap and sunglasses, no matter what time of day it is. Colloquially, they're also known as douchebags. They probably have a low GPA and a parent willing to pay for them to screw around at college.

 And I guarentee that they will spend most if not all of finals week drunk of their ass. They may or may not come and actually take their finals and if they do, they will either be drunk or hungover. Avoid these people at all costs. They tend to be persuasive enough to make you think that drinking an entire bottle of vodka totally counts as studying for your chemistry exam. 

2. The Insomniac 

The Insomniac should be avoided at all cost. Not because they pose any significant threat to your own finals week performance, but because they're really, really annoying. At 8 AM on the first day of finals, the Insomniac has already gone three days without sleep and is already seven cups of coffee deep. And why, you ask, do we know this? Simple. We know this because they WON'T FREAKING SHUT UP ABOUT IT. 

It's finals week. Everyone is tired. Everyone is dealing with less sleep...we really don't need you demanding that we compare sleep schedules with you. If the Insomniac spent more time actually studying and less time chugging espresso, they would get done studying with plenty of time to catch a nap before their first final. 

3. The Media Maven

Thankfully, most of us manage to buckle down and shut up during finals week. Not the Media Maven, oh no. They are determined that absolutely everyone in the entire world must know all the intimate details of  what they're doing to prepare for finals. When they start studying, they must post about it on facebook. 

And twitter. 

And their blog. 

They may even take a picture of their notes/study guides/computer and post it on instagram with a caption like "studying loll! #YOLO" Why do they post that they're laughing out loud about studying? I like to think they're laughing because they know we all know that they aren't actually studying because they're too busy posting about studying to study. In actuality, they are probably just programed to types "lol" after every single thing they post. 

4. The Super Nerd

We all know and hate the Super Nerd. Not only have they turned in every assignment and every extra credit assignment and aced every test, they probably have published articles in whatever field they're studying. They're the kids who have terrible glasses, un-ironic kitten sweaters and headgear. They're also the kids who will likely be your boss someday. 

They live for finals week...finals week for them is like hanukkah for Jewish people. It's the one week a year that society acknowledges the thing they're good at (be it knowing the answers on tests or knowing all the words to the "Dreidel, Dreidel, Dreidel" song). The Super Nerd is ready to kill it this week...they have their study guides color-coded and prepped for action. 

They're going to get 100% on every single one of their finals and ruin the curb for the rest of us. 

5. The Black Hole

We all reach this point. You've studied and studied and you just can't take it anymore. No matter how much knowledge you pour into our brain, it all just seems to leak out. You, my friend, have become a Black Hole. Nothing can escape the soul-sucking despair that has come over you. Not study guides, not sparknotes, not even time. The last few hours before your final slip past and all of the sudden you're stuck in the exam room staring down at a test that you know none of the answers too. 

You do the best you can and go home where you'll sit, sucking up all the joy. After a few comatose hours spent drooling on the couch and watching cartoons, the Black Hole will stop sucking up joy and become a normal, underacheiveing college student again. Finals week will be over and, while you probably failed half your tests, at least you don't have to do it again for a while. 

So...there's that. Be on the lookout for these kids...they'll make an already hellish week all the more hellish. 

Good luck on your finals...and also on hanukkah, Jewish folks...

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. 

Day 150 of College: The Diamond Half-Wall

Today...


I just drank a venti coffee thing from Starbucks. For those of you not, like, in the know with Starbucks-lingo, the venti is the big one. The REALLY BIG ONE. THE UNGODLY BIG ONE. Seriously, my hands are twitching weirdly while I type. It's sort of interesting but also terrifying. I'm one of those people who just shouldn't drink coffee. I get shouty and weird (well, weirder) when I have caffeine inside of me. 


It's how I imagine most people feel when they snort cocaine. 


Or get electrocuted. 


Moving on...I have a problem with Ball State right now. A problem that doesn't involve my major or my shitty dorm or any of the usual things. NONE OF THE THINGS. 


My problem...is with a half-wall. 


Lemme tell you some things are this half-wall. It's right outside of the library, it's maybe five-feet tall at its highest and it HAS NO FEASIBLE PURPOSE WHATSOEVER. 


That in itself would be annoying enough, but wait! There's more! Not only is this half-wall idiotic...it took them an ENTIRE SEMESTER to build. So...it takes close to SIX MONTHS to build a half-wall? Really? 


I think not, construction gods. 


If you don't actually go to Ball State...my half wall ranting might seem a bit groundless. It's not, I tell you! There are perfectly good reasons to hate that freaking half-wall. 


1. Why is it even there? It doesn't surround anything. It's not protecting anything. It's just a diminutive wall that's sitting by the side of the library and being more useless than nipples on a male cat. 


2. Why did you have to build it during the school year? The entire student body had to manuever around your stupid half-wall construction site for SIX MONTHS. Couldn't you wait until summer to build it? Or maybe go all Extreme Home Makeover on its ass and finish it over winter break. 


3. Why a half-wall? Why not just a regular wall for all the freaking time you spent on it? 


4. Knowing Ball State, they probably built this wall in the most cost-ineffective way possible. They probably hired male models to build it instead of actual construction workers. The foundation is probably made of elephant tusks. It's not made of bricks. It's made out of FREAKING BRICK-COLORED DIAMONDS, RIGHT BALL STATE? Education Redefined...try Education ROB YOU BLIND. 


He. That was clever. 


5. My entire tuition...all four years of it, will probably go to pay for that half-wall. 


Isn't that just depressing?


Danielle OUT. 

Day Forty-Three of College: The Narnia of Speeches

Today...


I discovered pawn shops! Pawn shops are basically my new most favorite thing (also, turkey bacon). I discovered the wonder that is a pawn shop whilst parading about the wilds of Muncie. The wilds of Muncie are populated with a combination of homeless guys and guys who could beat me up. And homeless guys who could beat me up. 


So, yup. Pawn shops. Also, second-hand bookstores. Those places have the best books...and the worst. But mostly the worst. Cause, who gives away books? Books are awesome! Oh no...my inner nerd got out again. Things like this are the reason that I'm a lonely mess. 


Also, speeches. I have to give one. My topic is coffee. Because I was tired and wanted coffee while I was writing it. So...it's pretty legit. Coffee. Did you know that it can take the arabic coffee plant 5 years to mature? You didn't? Well, that's probably the reason you all have significant others. And I'm still single. Though...I would kill on Jeopardy. 


Anyway, I also have a video-blog available for your viewing pleasure where I beg for comments and go off on cosmo. So...

So, there's that. For the record, that video was close to twelve minutes long when I finished recording it. It included my shopping list, more of my thoughts on Brokeback Mountain and a four-minute-long explosive rant about cosmo. It's all pretty funny, I assure you, but a lot of it (particularly the cosmo bit) isn't family-blog-friendly. Also, it's twelve minutes long. Seemed a little bit ridiculous. 


So...hit me up in the comments. No, no. Don't do that. Also, punch me in the face if I ever use the phrase "hit me up" ever again. Seriously. Ever. 


Danielle Out.