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.
Ugggghhhh.
Guys.
It is still so cold outside. It is March. It is not supposed to be cold. There is not supposed to be snow on the ground right now.
Spring break is next week. This is the opposite of okay. I refuse to call it spring break. It is late winter break.
Ah, well. It's not like I'm going anywhere or doing anything for spring late winter break anyway. I plan on chilling in my apartment and maybe replaying Mass Effect for, like, the eight time. I don't know. I should try to do something productive, like work on the book I'm writing or, I don't know, homework or something.
I guess I can go to the bars? Or something? I am 21 now. That is a thing I can do.
Speaking of my whole being-21-thing, I went to the casino again this weekend. I went in with twenty bucks and left with fifty! Yay! I now have enough extra money to either pay, like, half of my power bill or to buy two pizzas!
It's really hard to order a pizza when you live alone, though. Because when the delivery guys comes to the door it's like I'm admitting, yes I do plan on eating literally a whole pizza by myself. Do you have a problem with that? There's a negative stigma that comes with eating a pizza by yourself, guys.
Usually, I'll do something like play netflix loudly in the other room or turn the shower on or something and yell "oh, pizza's here!" to make it seem like I have another person to assist me in my pizza-eating.
It's a lot of effort just to get a pizza. Usually, I just don't order pizza and instead eat lots of cereal. And waffles. And french toast sticks. I live primarily off of breakfast foods.
Meh.
I'm still disappointed about my super-lame spring late winter break plans. All of the other college kids are like "I'm going to Florida!" or "I'm going to some island somewhere!" And I'm over here in my stir fry corner like "I'm going to Fishers...maybe...if I can get a ride..."
I need a car. And money. And also friends. I feel like all three of those things would be me improve in the long run. As a human.
In Major news (see that's a pun because it's important news and also news about my major), I've been considering several different things to do. I need to finish this degree first...duh. I've sunk three years and several thousand dollars into this stupid thing. But once I'm done...I don't know. I don't particularly want to work with criminals? And also sociology isn't a degree that I can actually get a job in.
So...I need a Master Plan (see that's a pun because it might involve a master's degree). A Master Plan that involves knowing what I actually want to do. My Master Plan most likely involves going to...wait for it...grad school! Or law school. One of those two things.
Or I could just say screw it, drop out now and go to live in Canada. I had a dream I moved to Canada. It was pretty happy there. Maybe I should move to Canada guys. Maybe it's a sign. I love breakfast food, they have maple syrup.
Granted, it's cold there literally all the time.
So...maybe that isn't a thing I should do?
You know, I've typed rather a lot over basically nothing at all. I'm excellent at talking about nothing. I babble. And annoy. And irritate. And chatter. And ramble.
I'm sure that there are other synonyms I could come up with.
We've established...I'm loquacious.
I'm also in the middle of a class. So...I should probably go attend to that.
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.
