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.
I HAVE SUCH EXCITING NEWS.
Well, you probably won't think that its exciting. I mean, I do. I think its very exciting. But...honestly, it will probably not change your daily lives one way or the other.
Anyway. I get to work stir fry on Mondays now tooooo! Yay! No more dishroom. It's all stir fry all the time. Awww yeeeeah.
But, there is a downside to my exciting news.
They're back, you guys.
The football players. They're back at my job and everything about my life is stupid now.
Also I keep running out of stuff thanks to their insatiable appetite. And, see, that wouldn't be a problem if they were cool about it. But they're all like, "are you sure you don't have more?"
And I'm like, "Yes I'm sure. If I had more I would be serving you them and not telling you this."
And then they always say, "do you have more in the back?"
Why is it that people think the back of my dining hall is some sort of magical land of milk and honey where there are shrimps and noodles for all? The streets are not paved with rice. The water fountains don't flow with general tso's sauce. Erugh. Can you imagine that? That would be so gross. It would get all gunked up and it wouldn't flow it would just kind of gloop out. That's the sound it would make too. Gloop, gloop gloop.
Yuuuuuuck.
But no, it's actually kind of awesome because if I run out of noodles or something they all act like I took the entire pan of noodles and ate them all specifically so there would be none left for the football team. They just look at me with these horribly sad expressions that say "why, stir fry girl? why would you hurt us in this way?"
BECAUSE ITS FUN YOU LOSERS!!! HAHAHAHAHA!!
I had to, like, be physically restrained from telling them "noodles are for winners" after they lost their game last week. In hindsight, it was probably good that I did not say that.
They would likely try to beat me up. And I'm pretty sure they'd win. I mean, I talk big but I am not physically gifted in areas of strength, speed or anything else useful.
Anyway.
School is happening. It is a thing I am dealing with.
And by dealing I mean putting in the minimum amount of effort to not fail. So, that's a thing that is happening.
I've also done like a minimum amount of homework, like, at my home. I do it during other classes. Because I am trash who does not listen during lectures.
I'm sorry! They're so boring! And paying attention is so stupid!
I'm in class right now, like, writing this. I figure that it's better than my usual practice of typing curse words over and over and then turning them rainbow colors.
I also have a really bad habit of doing things like texting people or playing stupid games on my iPhone.
Speaking of my iphone, my iphone is broken.
Like, the screen is completely shattered. It keeps cutting my fingers and/or ears. Of course I still use it because I am addicted to technology.
In other sad news, my sister left the country.
She's in England now, with all the tea and crumpets a person could wish for. No, but I took the day off of work and classes on Monday so I could escort her there along with my family.
It was a bad choice. I failed to account for the fact that I am a really unattractive crier. Like, there's way too much snot involved. Also a lot of Darth Vader-esque gasping. I do not cry pretty. But I do cry really enthusiastically, I guess?
Luckily, crying isn't a thing I do a whole lot. Usually only when I get mad, I don't get mad very often, but when I do there is lots of yelling and lots of tears. But I really like my sister and the fact that she drives me around! I am going to miss her and her car very much. So I got sad. And I cried. Like an idiot.
I feel like the greater Indianapolis area is judging me.
But I'm hoping to visit England at some point during this year. See my sister. Be a horrible American tourist. You know, all fun things.
But before that I have to get a passport.
And then fly on a plane. I hate planes. They are big, flying death-boxes...uh, coffins. They're called coffins.
And I, as a person who is alive and junk, am generally not a fan of being in coffins. So, you know. Pros and cons.
Ugh, I should go. My professor is bitch-facing at me. I think he knows that I am paying the opposite of attention.
Okay...I will keep you updated as to the status of the football players and my stir fry escapades. You know. The important things.
Later.
I'm back! Back at school, I mean. I didn't actually go anywhere or anything. I just didn't have like anything to blog about because I was doing literally nothing with my life.
No things. None of the things.
But now I'm back at school doing the things and stirring the fry and so now I have material.
Yay for material.
Not so much yay for what the material contains, but the, like, presence of material is a good thing. I guess. See this is the problem with having a depressing blog. If depressing things happen, you get weirdly happy about it because now you have stuff to blog about. But also it sucks because there are fleas in your couch and you have to throw it away.
But I'm getting ahead of myself.
Let's start with the flea thing. My apartment was completely infested with fleas this summer. I left it for a few weeks to do vacation things and when I came back BAM! FLEAS!
There were so many.
So many. You literally cannot fathom how many fleas were in my apartment. There was a flea army. A literal army of militarized fleas living in my carpet fibers. The level of fleas was well over 9000. IT WAS HORRIBLE.
I had to throw away my couch and my ugly orange chair. I loved that chair. It was so ugly. I freaked out so much about the fleas that I lost my voice, regained my voice, developed a temporary stutter and then threw up.
I REALLY HATE BUGS, OKAY? Even though they are mostly gone now, the traumatic memories remain. Like, haunting me and shit.
They bit me and got in my sock drawer and got all up in my socks' business.
Long story short, I now have no socks to wear to work.
Oh! Oh! Speaking of work, I got a nametag! Yay! Also a locker! I hope I don't lose them as punishment when my boss sees that I have no socks.
I am so excited about those two things though. Also I am excited because my boss says the football players may not be coming back this year. I do not hate football players. I just...dislike them. A lot. Like, probably more than is healthy?
They just make my job SO HARD and SO STUPID.
Granted, a lot of my job is stupid anyway, thanks to myself and my behavior. Also my puns. I am more proud of my puns than I should be, I think. When I am an adult with an adult job, I will probably have to reduce the amount of puns, old memes and geeky references that pepper my speech.
I think they make me sound totes mature and respectable and shit. Society...seems to have a different view. Whatever. Society is stupid.
Trust me. I have most of a sociology degree.
I am a professional.
Blah. I have like two hours before my next class. I was going to play skyrim, but I forgot to bring my mouse. And you can't play skyrim with a trackpad. You just can't.
I hate first day classes. They are awkward and stupid. All we do is go over syllabuses. And studiously avoid making eye-contact with anyone. Though, I'm starting to think the eye-contact thing might just be me. Maybe.
Gah, I am so weird.
Like, I was excited to go back to work. How strange is that? My job is literally one of the worst jobs ever and I missed it. I think I have Stockholm stir fry syndrome. It is what happens when you are forced to stir the fry so often that you before weirdly dependent on it. And also the money it provides.
But mostly just the stir frying experience.
Hmmmm...what else can I tell you...
I went to a bar the other night. I was weird and awkward. No one was surprised. I utterly failed at trying to make guys buy me drinks. It might have something to do with the fact that I didn't wear my glasses so I just sat the the bar being unable to see and making weird faces in an attempt to somehow improve my eyesight.
It did not work. Glasses suck.
And as my dad always says, guys don't date girls with glasses.
My dad is really good at accidentally insulting people while trying to compliment them. I call it at complisult. That sad thing is, he's always legitimately trying to be nice. My dad is a nice person. He doesn't say mean things about his kids. But when he tries to compliment them...
"You look really good from far away!"
"You look so much better without that goop on your eyes."
"You actually sound like a grown-up over the phone!"
And of course...
"Guys just don't date girls with glasses, Danielle!"
I'd say it makes more sense in context...but it really doesn't. I like my dad, he is the best dad. But sometimes...he is just bad at saying words. He's started doing this thing where he nudges me when a boy even remotely close to my age walks by and whispering "Danielle!" like I might not have noticed the college-aged male human in my proximity.
Yes dad, I see him. Yes dad, he is my age. No, I am not going to attempt to jump him. Why? Oh, because it's weird that you're pointing out random dudes. Like, really weird.
Ugh, my family. My little brother, who is like six, has his own version of complisults.
He doesn't compliment people, oh no, he insults them. He just does it really, really, really specifically. It comes out complimentary because it's like, really? That's the biggest issue you came up with? Wow, I must not have many faults if you had to dig that deep.
The other day he told me "You don't do well in school!"
Uh, okay.
And he told my brother "You're really sensitive!"
I've been told that ladies like a sensitive guy.
He told my mom, "You breathe too loud!"
That's what you're going with? You're going with breathing volume?
I think it's really funny. It's one of the few super mean behaviors that I didn't teach him myself. He came up with it all on his own.
I am so proud.
In other new, I am worried that I am ruining my little brother. He is way too sarcastic for his age. Like, most six year olds are not sarcastic. It's just kind of obvious. But my little brother spends most of his time around me and my two other college-aged siblings.
Yeah...he's picked up a few things. I'm pretty sure he's the only one in his first grade class who regularly uses the word "douche" and the phrase "look at this asshole" to describe people.
I brought him to his meet the teacher night and we literally sat in the corner all night and snickered about the other kids. Who were all six.
I am horrible.
But I'm also hungry.
So I think I'll go fetch a snack before class.
XOXO Gossip Girl
(But actually Danielle.)
(Shit, is that XOXO thing like trademarked? Am I gonna get sued?)
(Gimme a sec...okay, uh, disclaimer? I am not affiliated with Gossip Girl. Or the CW. Or the letters X and O. Okay, that should take care of it.)
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.
So I found out last night that all of the football players who I so kindly made stir fry for all year think my name is Jess.
Jess? Really guys? I THOUGHT WHAT WE HAD WAS SPECIAL! I have cooked you dinner, like, a hundred times and you don't even know my name. My feelings...are so hurt right now.
Not actually.
Because it's not like I even kind of know any of their names. I know them by their orders. Oh, that guy? Sure I know that guy! That's beef, teryaki sauce, no veggies and white rice guy! And him? Oh, he's all three meats with General Tso's and noodles!
But it was kind of funny, because when I told them my name wasn't Jess they were all surprisingly distressed about it. They made me tell them what my name started with so they could guess what it was.
They guessed several very outlandish words that started with D before I took pity on them and told them my name.
They got through Diamond, Dave and something that sounded vaguely like Dorkle before guessing Danielle.
I kind of wanted to say yes to Diamond, though. Diamond is a kickass name. I would be really okay with someone thinking my name was Diamond.
It's better than stupid Jess.
In other news about my name and my job, everyone there has slowly but surely taken to calling me Dani. I'd just like to point out that I never asked them to call me Dani. I never referred to myself as Dani. The word Dani has never come out of my mouth other than following the words "Don't call me..."
I have no clue why it's happing.
And I don't know how I feel about it?
I mean, I have always disliked the name Danielle. The name Danielle is stupid. I'd go by my middle name if I could, but my middle name is even stupider.
So...Dani is a thing that's happening? I guess? We can see where it goes?
In other news, I'm judging a speech meet this weekend. It sucks because I have to wake up early. Like, insanely early. Like, early as in "I usually go to bed like an hour after this" early. Whatever. It's worth it though because it gives me, just, an insane amount of power over a group of high schoolers.
With a stroke of my mighty judging pen, I get to decide if their day is good or terrible. I am the decider of things and scores and whatnot!
I'm quite excited, guys. It almost makes up for the insane earliness that I am being forced to deal with. I might just not sleep. I do that with alarming regularity.
I like to claim I'm an insomniac. What I really am is a person with incredibly poor decision-making skills.
Look at my track record. Look at all of my majors.
There really is no arguing with those kinds of results, guys. Or, I mean, there could be arguing but it would be really futile and useless and blah blah blah.
Speaking of lack of sleep things, I had a midterm essay due this morning. I'd like to claim that the account of me writing the essay that follows is due to the fact that I forgot about it or something, but that would be a lie.
I didn't forget. I was super aware of the fact that I had a midterm essay due for several days beforehand. But because I'm a moron, I didn't start until two in the morning, like, eight hours before it was due.
Professors really need to stop referring to assignments as things I "can't finish the night before." Some part of my special-snowflake-Danielle-brand of crazy takes that as a challenge. Don't underestimate me, professors. I once wrote a twenty page research paper the night before it was due.
I'm impressive in the worst possible way.
Honestly, my grades on my slapdash awful papers are usually pretty good. Better than grades people who actually spend time on their assignments and, I don't know, try.
Imagine what I could do if I spent more time on my assignments. If I started actually writing rough drafts and editing...I might actually be able to take over the world, guys.
But, then again, there are some pretty interesting documentaries about sharks I've been meaning to watch...
So I should probably do that before I get on with my world domination.
You know. Priorities.
