Welcome to the Dark Side

So I wrote a paper last night. 

It was pretty spectacular, guys. It had a lot to do with murders and murderers because I am a criminal justice major and those are things that we write about. I finished it before dawn this morning, so that was a nice change of pace. Got like five whole hours of sleep. 

It was awesome. 

But, anyway, now my internet history is full of searches for murderers. I downloaded pictures of murderers to use on my powerpoint. I'm really glad that no one is sneaking peeks at my internet history. Not just, like, last night, but like always. 

My internet search history is just so embarrassing. 

And it's not even embarrassing for the usual reasons! It's just...ugh, let me give you an example. My last five searches are like "murderers who were under 18," "which alcohol tastes the least like alcohol?" "are colorblind people allowed to drive buses?" "hairstyles for people with glasses" and "best grad schools for writing, sociology, law, criminal justice..." and that list goes on for a while. 

My internet searches are not internet searches. They are stories. Each one has some weird incident attached. 

There's also, like, time stamps involved so you can see just how much time I spend on certain websites. It's embarrassing to admit that you spend, like, three hours a day on pinterest. Or to realize that you spent four hours last night reading dumb internet comics. 

It's bad, guys. I really hope that no government agencies are looking at my internet history. I bet they'd just look at each other and be, like, "Wow. This person is such a loser, I bet she has no friends." 

Preach it, government agents. Preach. It. 

So I have to give a speech in a little while over that paper I wrote last night. I'm excited. There is a room of people who have to listen to me talk for like twenty minutes. And they are not allowed to leave. 

Hehehehehe. 

It's great because I don't measure the success of my speeches in grade-form. I measure it in the number of times I am able to make a room full of people laugh at me. Or with me, whatever. I'm not really all that picky. 

I don't know why. I doesn't make any sense. I don't talk, like, ever in this class that I'm giving the presentation for, but give me a reason to get up in front of the class and I transform into a stand up comedian. And I'm a girl, so that's no good. 

Women comedians are the opposite of funny. 

I'll let you know how it goes. It might be great. It might be awful. It might be a little of both. I don't know. It's for my ethics class. Ethics are dumb and boring.

Boo ethics. 

Anyway, I'm in class right now. It's boring, hence the blogging. And  there is a random girl in here who just won't stop talking. The class has devolved from a lecture into a dialogue between this one student and the professor. 

The whole class is just sitting here watching the two of them with vaguely bemused expressions.

Some people...they have no self awareness, let me tell you. I am flawed, I am like super flawed, but I'm more or less aware of it. I know that I have issues. I know that I will monologue at a class today and get, like, zero of my points across. I know that about myself. That is a thing I know. 

I could go on. You know how all heroes have a dark side? Harry Potter had the fact that he was a horcrux. Frodo wanted to keep the ring. Batman has dead parents. You know, dark side stuff. 

Well, I too have a dark side. A dark side called Group-Leader-Danielle. Group-Leader-Danielle is everything bad that has ever existed about my personality. GLD (that's the acronym we're going with, okay?) emerges whenever there is a group project. It doesn't matter if it's like semester-long or ten-minutes long. GLD will emerge and do her best to seize control. 

It is so bad. 

I hate group projects. You can't even understand how, just, completely terrible I turn when group projects are on the table. 

This paper I wrote was supposed to be a group project. I went to the professor and asked him very nicely if he would let me do out by myself because I didn't want to subject anyone to the horror that is doing a group project with me. 

The only valid ideas? My ideas. The way we're going to do the powepoint? My way. No one ever tells me to be group leader, I just seize control. I am the Vladimir Putin of group projects. I will use whatever underhanded tactics I deem necessary to get my way. 

I like to think that I've become fairly chill since high school. My temper is manageable now. I barely ever throw foodstuffs at random passerbys in fits of insane and uncontrollable rage nowadays. I've injured, like, only four people in angry slap-fights this year. So...chill. It is a thing I am. 

Group-Leader-Danielle is not chill. GLD is the opposite of chill. GLD is about as chill as Krakatoa. If anything goes wrong, an eruption of hate and name-calling and possible physical pain is going to occur. 

And I can never admit that I might be the one it the wrong. I aggressively argued that there were five ninja turtles, not four, because I made a typo one time. That's a real story. That's, like, an actual thing that happened. 

So its bad. Its one of the reasons that I should never be in charge of anything ever. Like, ever. 

The fact that I'm aware of it changes nothing. I can't stop it. No one can stop it. Group-Leader-Danielle will not be contained. 

Anyway. 

In stir fry news...I will be stirring the fry again next year. I just signed up for my shifts. And because I've worked there for over a full semester now, I get like a five cent pay increase! So now I won't be making minimum wage. I will be making five cents above minimum wage. 

I am moving up in the world. 

But, in order to fulfill my basic needs like summer, like food, rent, power, wifi and netflix...you know, Maslow's hierarchy stuff...I am going to need to find some sort of job. 

Ugh. 

I do not want to get a job other than stir fry. I like doing stir fry. Stir fry is fun. Plus, I only have to work twenty hours a week. I do not want a real-person job where I have to work forty hours a week. 

I might just see if I can live this summer on my leftover money from this year. I might have to cancel my wifi and eat literally nothing but bread and ramen noodles, but I could do it. 

I'm going to go full Walden, guys. Be all isolated. Don't use the internet. Eat ramen and cheese sandwiches. That was Walden, right? The one with the ramen? 

 Sometimes I think that I'm one like or as short of a simile. I'm a metaphor, guys. And no one wants to be a metaphor. 

No one.

Politics in an Arctic Wasteland

It's cold.

It's very cold.

It's stupidly, unfairly, literally worse than the movie The Day After Tomorrow cold.
As a human person who walks literally everywhere in their life, this poses a problem. A problem called "I'm starting to think I need a dogsled team to get to work, oh my god Indiana we aren't the freaking Yukon, calm the hell down."

It's...it's a working title. I feel like it does a pretty good job of expressing the "I can't feel my ears" level of cold I am currently dealing with.

Ugh. Weather. I am pro-global warming at this point. Go ahead, ice caps. Melt already. I can kayak to work or something. So long as the temperature is never negative ever again.

The penguins can adapt. I believe in them. They can move to the cities and become stock brokers and Red Lobster waiters in their tiny little tuxedos. It will be great. Shut up.

In other news, my birthday is soon. So...get excited. I'm turning 21.

Drunk Danielle is coming to a theatre near you!

 Not really. There will be no drunk Danielle. My birthday is on a Tuesday. You can't get drunk on a Tuesday. Well, I mean you can. It's just...not advisable.

Also, I have to work that day. Stir fry is Serious Business. You shouldn't drink and fry. It's not the law...but it probably should be.

So, speaking of my job, something exciting happened the other day. It was a regular scandal. Someone wrote "Obama Sucks" in the men's employee bathroom above the urinal. You might be saying to yourself, "really, toilet graffiti? That's exciting for you?"

But it really is! It is literally the most exciting thing that has ever happened at my job ever. Well, we had a fryer sort of explode one time, but other than that this is the most exciting thing! Someone had the audacity to pen such a bold, thought-provoking political statement on the bathroom wall.

And we only have two male employees. And one of them was the one who found it! So...my first ever detective-type investigation is starting to get real exciting. I plan on buying some tacks, yarn and printing out a whole bunch of mostly-irrelevant pictures to create one of those crime-tracking-web things on my bulletin board. Also, I need a bulletin board.

Honestly, though...it was super funny to see everybody at work freak out over the "Obama Sucks" written above a urinal. It was all anyone talked about. Not just during that one shift either, no...it was for like the entire week afterwards.

Politics, am I right?

Speaking of other very exciting things, I bought a ring that looks like a watch. It's awesome and fantastic and it only cost me 99 cents (and no, I was not thrift shopping.)

I am not allowed to wear my watch-ring at work. I know because I tried to wear it at work and was forced to take it off and go put it in my locker. I attempted to protest this gross injustice by appealing to my boss. My boss said that I was not allowed to wear my ring because only wedding rings are allowed. I looked him right in the eye and told him that my watch ring was a wedding ring. He just looked kind of tired and sad and went away without saying anything else.

I don't think he's all that fond of my theatrics.

Anyway, I should probably go...it's stupidly cold outside and I have to somehow make my way to work. It's times like this when I really rue my irrational fear of buses, shuttles and all other forms of public transportation. Also my completely rational fear of attempting to drive myself anywhere.

That fear is 100% rational. One time, I jumped a round-a-bout and lost a hubcap because I was too busy yelling to pay attention the the actual driving business.

Ugh.

My life is stupid.

Trashcan Ownership for Dummies

Happy end-of-summer, people. Though, the end of summer isn't all that happy, I suppose. So, less happy end-of-summer and more depressing end-of-summer.

The end of summer is depressing.

Hence the blog.

Gah, but seriously, it's been a while, hasn't it? How's everything been with you? How's your life going? How are your kids?

(Don't answer. I don't care.)

I moved into my kick ass apartment last weekend. So...that's a bit exciting. I have all sorts of non-matching furniture that I stuck inside of it and then pretty much called it a day. All of my friends with new apartments spent all summer collecting furniture and acessories and whatnot. I decided to not do that and instead spend the last week or so panicking.

It's been fun.

Mostly I stole furniture from unsuspecting members of my family and then spray painted it while they weren't paying attention. I also got some stuff from goodwill. And for everything I couldn't steal or goodwill, there was Walmart.

I bought a trashcan there yesterday. For some reason, buying a my very own trashcan made me feel like a grownup. Feeling like a grownup made me very depressed. I do not want to be a grownup. I want to exist in a perpetual state of immaturity and never pay back my stupent loans.

But on the bright side, I have a trashcan now.

But no wifi. That's the downside of Fort Danielle 4.0. There is no wifi until Tuesday. So...I've been bored. And depressed. And lonely. I can't waste all of my time online. I've had to find other ways to waste my time and they are far less enjoyable than mucking around on the internet.

Like, I actually cooked food that wasn't a grilled cheese sandwich. And then I cleaned the kitchen. And made tea. And then watched dvds and listened to cds....it was like the early 2000s.

Anyway.

My dawn-of-time-esque escapes aside, I started classes today. I'm taking four sociology classes and I love ALL OF THEM. It's such a shame that there's not exactly a clamoring need for more sociologists. If there was, I would so get a doctorate. I feel like the world would be a better place if I had a doctorate.

As it is, my more profitable major is likely where I'll end up pursuing a career.

Criminal justice. Woo.

No, but I like criminal justice. It's just that sociology is basically criminal justice with the part pertaining to criminals filtered out.

Yay! No criminals or risk of getting shot at!

I should go...I have another class today (personal finance...that class so doesn't deserve a woo.).  But once 'm done with that, I'm free to go back and chill in Fort Danielle 4.0, aka the Batcave.

Yeah. I am 100% a responsible adult-type person.

The Five Things No One Tells You About College

One week left to go of sophomore year, you guys. One more week. And then I am free to be unemployed and poor in the comfort of my own home instead of unemployed and poor at college

Hoo-rah.

So, as of next week, I will personally be halfway done with my college education with a degree in journalism/telecommunication/advertising/graphic design/criminal justice/sociology. (Mostly criminal justice, but hey. I've majored in all of those things, so whatever.) So I think I'm a credible source so far as college and stuff goes. I'm part of that culture, or whatever you want to call it. I'm cool, I'm hip, I'm part of the target audience that the Twilight movies tried (and failed) to market to.

(Mostly, the Twilight movies ended up being marketed to 13 year old girls and middle-aged women unsatisfied with their marriages. I was an advertising major for nine days. I know these things.)

Anyway, I was bored and thinking about college as, you know, a concept. I came up with five things that I really wish someone would have told me before I came here and my life got all screwed up.

Without further ado...

The Five Things No One Tells You About College

1. The Monopoly Money Effect

Unless you are one of the lucky few with rich parents who are also generous, you will be paying for college yourself. Just, an FYI...college is stupid expensive.

I know I'm probably the first person to tell you this awful, awful fact, but it's true. I could sell all of the organs in my body on the Taiwanese black market and still be in debt after college. I know. I checked.

(My debt adds about 75 cents a day in interest to my rather impressive running total. So...there's that.)

I'm paying for my degree with stupent loans (which is a combination of the words "student loans" and "stupid loans" because they are both things. Stupid, I mean. And also for students.) It's pretty cool because I just sign a piece of paper and them I get all of this money. Money for books! Money for food! Money for netflixs!

Money that I, eventually, am supposed to pay back. That part, the whole "this is not my money to have for keeps, this is my money to use right now and then give back later" doesn't really seem all that important right now. It's like monopoly money. It's not like real human money that I need to pay back. It's colorful paper money that charges interest in fun not in dollars.

That's a lie. It does charge interest in dollars. So now I have negative dollars Which is, like, the opposite of fun.

But, right now, it's hard to visualize the pile of money that I owe my school. Instead, I visualize the pile of xbox games I could buy with the money I owe my school. And v-neck tees. I look awesome in v-neck tees.

So, yeah. Monopoly money. Except, in this scenario Free Parking is actually $2,000 per semester parking and the Community Chest gives you free rape whistles instead of cash.

Like I said...college is weird.

2. Motivation is Hard

In high school, there was always someone there to tell you to get your shit done. Be it your parents, your teachers or your guidance counselor, there was always someone there telling you that you had to do your homework before you were allowed to take naps and eat pizza.

I mean, you could ignore them if you tried hard enough, but there were always around. Like gnats. Or very over-involved prison wardens. It was really hard to not do things in high school because there was always someone there to give you shit about not doing it.

But in college, you can do what you want. Want to sleep through your 11:00 class? That's fine! Whatever, bro...we know you have other things going on. No one is going to come remind you that you have a test you didn't study for or an essay exam that you're currently sleeping through. That's your business.

You have to make yourself study and make yourself go to class and make yourself not eat ice cream and pizza rolls for every meal. And it's really hard. Why would I go to class when instead I can stay in my dorm all day, not put on real pants and play xbox for literally fourteen hours without stopping?

That's one of the many reasons why college is awesome. And why so many people flunk out.

3. Graduating is Confusing

Have you filled out forms w, 92, button and a² + b² = c²? Have you taken all your classes in perfectly sequential order? Have you filed out a zoning permit for the ground you are currently standing on? Have you slaughtered a goat to the the old gods? 

Oh, you slaughtered it on a Tuesday...yikes. I'm afraid only goats sacrificed during full moons that fall on Wednesday are admissible. 

So sorry, but it looks like you aren't going to graduate this year! Try again next time. 

This is how it feels. This is exactly how it feels. It is way too complicated to graduate. In high school, people were always hounding you and making sure you had the right credits and all the other stuff you needed to graduate. Here, they just kind of shrug and say "everything will probably be okay, probably." 

You know what? They are probably lying to you, probably.

As someone who had majored in a stupid number of different things, I am well acquainted with the guidance office and the people who work there. Their favorite things to do are to put you on hold, transfer your call and "accidentally" loose your paperwork. 

Sometimes, I'm pretty sure I'm going to be in college forever. Literally. 

4. Be Yourself (Plus a Million)

For many people, college is the first time they've really been without adult supervision. They are free to do whatever they want and nobody can tell them no. Little Jimmy can dance if he wants to, he can leave his friends behind because his Dad isn't there anymore to tell him that he needs to stop dancing and go outside to play with the other kids.

Every little bad or annoying thing about a person is magnified by, like, a thousand in college. In high school, I was sort of antisocial and I was kind of into video games. Now, I very rarely leave my dorm and spend a good three hours a day xboxing (that's the verb form of playing xbox not, you know, boxing with the letter x).

Kids who sort of liked photography? Yeah, say goodbye to their faces because they will be hidden behind a lens for the next four years. Kids who had a lot of boyfriends or girlfriends? They will become straight-up prostitutes. Kids who occasionally partied? They will likely never attend a class. Kids who liked going to the gym? They will never stop exercising! 

Girls who were snarky and kind of liked to blog? They turn out awesome. And sexy. And awesome.

Yeah, well...I fully support people taking happiness where they can find it, but it is, just, really annoying sometimes. People become themselves in college. But...like to an extreme degree. A disturbingly extreme degree.

5. The Bubble

College is not like the real world. Not even a little bit. In the real world, you cannot wander around at four in the morning just because you feel like it, order a pizza and them sleep until noon the next day. In college, no one judges you for that behavior. That behavior is expected. If you get up before nine in the real world, you are a normally functioning human being. You get up before nine in college, you either have a class or are still awake from the night before.

College life is a bubble. People can see you on the inside of the bubble and they sort of understand what you're doing, but something about it is off and you can't really see all that well past the soapy exterior.

The bubble is pretty cool when you're inside. Everything is pretty colors and you get free sandwiches sometimes and everyone understands the references on Glee. But when you leave the bubble, like to go home or to leave campus, everything seems sad and depressing and nobody wants to debate philosophy with you, they just want you to order your damn coffee and go. This leads to a bubble-cling effect where the people inside the bubble want nothing to do with the people outside the bubble.

The people outside the bubble are weird. They wake up too early, they don't read the same books or listen to the same music as you and it's scary because they used to be in the bubble too, didn't they? Then you start to panic about the bubble popping and what on earth you'll do when you are forcibly ejected from the bubble and are no longer allowed to ignore the people on the outside.

And that's where graduate students come from.

That's my list. Do with it what you will. I need to go see if I can score a free sandwich from some guy on the corner. Later, all.

Ways to Avoid Studying and Help the Blind

I have a criminology test tomorrow that I should be studying for. Therefore...blog time! 

I really should study thought. Criminology is a class that I never, ever pay attention in. It's not my fault, though. The professor is probably the worst lecturer ever. Seriously. Watching cartoons for an hour would probably be more informative. Or listening to the lecture in German or something, I don't know. I do know that she, my professor, likes to copy things word for word from our book onto powerpoint slides in point 12 font and read them to us. Word for word.

If we were a class full of blind people, then that would be awesome. As it is, we only have one blind person in the class and, while I'm sure he's getting a lot out of it, the rest of us can read those slides faster than she can and with fewer pronunciation errors. 

It's usually cool, though. 

I'm just on pintrest the whole time pinning things to my two wedding boards. Yes, I know I'm perpetually single. It's not weird that I have two wedding boards and no boyfriend to love me. I just want to wear a pretty dress and have a whole day where everyone is required to look at me. 

Shut up. 

Anyway, my latest attempt to learn another language has been foiled. I guess I can add Japanese to the pile of languages I tried and failed to learn. That pile already has Latin, French, Russian, Farsi, Pig Latin, Elvish and Spanish three times. I seriously hate myself for being unable to speak anything but english. And I don't even speak english well. 

I think the language-learning part of my brain had to be discarded to make room for all the awesomeness that I just naturally contain. That or it was broken during the "stroke-like- event" that I had last year. 

That was fun. 

Ugh. My notes from my criminology class are just sitting here, staring at me. Get off my back, criminology notes! I'm busy right now! 

Okay, so other class that I hate is walking. You're probably shaking your head and saying something like, "Walking? Really, Danielle? I knew you were impressively lazy, but are you really going to complain about walking class?" 

You don't even know. 

You don't even know what I'm going through. I never knew that people could walk so fast. It's like...sprint-walking or something. I keep almost tripping over my abnormally large feet. (cool story...I had to buy my new shoes in the men's section. They're a size 11...in mens. That's like a 13 in women's.) 

You'd think that having freak-feet would make walking long distances easier. Lies. They just make you flat-footed so you have to stomp around the place like an arthritic godzilla. Or a heavy-set camel. Or an obese third-grader. Or a fish that spontaneously grew stumpy legs. 

So, yeah. My feet. They're stupid. 

Also, I think that my fitness teacher has decided to make me her "project." Like, if she encourages me enough, I will spontaneously become an expert at fitness walking. I'm sorry, but that is not going to happen. My feet will always be big and stupid and I will always be lazy and unmotivated to do anything but watch netflix and eat pizza. 

Mmmm...pizza. 

Pizza bagel bites are awesome, by the way. Not that it has anything to do with anything...but the fact still stands. Pizza bagels kick ass. 

This blog feels fairly boring. Sorry. I can't accidentally sexually harass boys every week. Somebody might get wise and report me to university PD. 

Ha...like they're real cops of something. Plus, I'm a criminal justice major. We're all on the same team, bros. 

I should go. My criminology notes beckon. 

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.