I'm Drunk (With Knowledge)

Happy homecoming weekend! Or something! I don't know...merry homecoming weekend? Have a good homecoming? I'm very bad at social situations. I don't really know the protocol for wishing someone a good...well...joyous homecoming. 

Like all the cool kids, I am spending homecoming weekend not at the football game and not getting drunk/tailgating. I'm in the library. With my equally as cool sister. I actually did homework and stuff. It got to feeling a bit too productive...hence the blogging. And pintrest-ing. I spend far too much time on pintrest. I have twenty bucks in the bank. I can't buy anything I pin. I can't even buy food. 

I had to cancel my netflix subscription. 

It was a dark day indeed. 

And who do I have to thank for my current poverty? (Aside from my teacher parents, inability to win the lottery and refusal to get a new job) The financial aid office, that's who. 

They're seriously the worst. First, they make me feel terrible for being poor. And, as you know, I did not choose the thug life. The thug life chose me, financial aid office. After they're done berating me for being poor, they put me on hold. FOR HOURS. Seriously. I think they all went to lunch and laughed about it one time. 

I can't go to lunch. I have no money to buy lunch. AND IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT, FINANCIAL AID OFFICE. 

Ball State really should pay me to go here. I give them so much good press, what with my positively-themed blogging and all. (But, really. My college is the worst college. Except at being drunk. We're all super good at that.) 

So, with a school full of hookers and drunkards...is it really surprising that I avoid homecoming just as fervently as I avoid having a boyfriend? 

The difference is...only one of those things is a choice. 

Whatever. It's cool. I'm probably really bad at it anyway. I'll just becoming a nun. Or a velociraptor. 

Don't ask me how I'd become a velociraptor. I have ways. 

I should go. We ordered a pizza and I can always count on melty cheese and cardboard-y crust to temporarily fill the hole inside me where the love is supposed to go. 

Oh, I jest. 

...but seriously. My school is the worst. 

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. 

Day Eight-Six of College: Aiming for the Middle

Today...


Scratch that...THIS ENTIRE WEEK....


The freaking Ball State football team is getting on my last freaking nerve. 


Yeah, I know that you're all so big and bad cause you play football at Ball State (way to aim for the middle, bro) and you're pulling a C- average in your "Social Psychology" major (again with the middle)...


BUT YOU ALL NEED TO STOP YELLING SHIT AT ME. 


(sorry for the curse word...it seemed warranted.) 


Sure, the first time it was sort of flattering. And again the second time. But, the third time...it seemed a bit much, boys. Yes, I know you need to prove your absolute masculinity and football-and-Red Bull-fueled awesomeness...but, seriously? You can't let me go get my cereal-and-beef-jerky-dinner (it was a bad week) in peace?


And yes, I know that I look super-fine in my sweatshirt and jeggings, but there's no reason to shout nonsense at me. And, yes, I do happen to be a dime piece...but seriously. Stop yelling at me. 


Anyway. That's all going on with the football team this week. Also, they aren't that good at actually playing football. Probably cause they're all to busy YELLING SHIT AT ME TO PRACTICE. 


Moving on...


The major question is torturing me again. The major question was the reason that I went and got cereal and beef jerky for dinner. I'm tossing around the idea of Professional Writing...but that just seems kinda dumb. I dunno. Advertising is also on the table. I can advertise stuff. Watch...


Me: "Here's some stuff. Spend money on it." 
Customer: "No. Why would I do that?"
Me: "Seriously. Just buy the stuff already." 
Customer: "No. Leave me alone, crazy person."
Me: "I am a crazy person. And I know where you live. So BUY THIS STUFF."
Customer: "But..."
Me: "Buy it or I will kill your whole family."


So, yeah. I think I could make it the cut-throat world of advertising. Plus, I'm good at street-fighting. So...if that comes up...


Shut up, I don't have to make sense. I learned that from listening to football players. They shout nonsense words all the time and they all seem to have scholarships. Perhaps if I drink copious amounts of Red Bull and shout nonsense words at passing girls I'll get a scholarship too!


Actually, I doubt that will happen. What will happen is I'll get addicted to Red Bull and attempt to fight someone I don't even know. 


Not that this has ever happened before....


Danielle Out.