Snow day

Whoop---eee, classes were all canceled after 2:00 today! The excitement, the joy. Yay. And... a delay for tomorrow. What a perfect way to make a college student happy. That means more time to work on my papers due soon, right? Ha no. It means, all the more time to procrastinate. Whoop-ee. This weekend was fun. Went to a friend's 19th Birthday party. Tami, you had better appreciate the pink lemonade chapstick that I scoured the earth to find, and your "special" collective present. Ha ha.

Let it Snow

Aint the penguin cute? Awww, it is all in the wintery theme. WAKE UP little peguin!!!! I had to scrape my car off 4 times today because the snow just never stopped. It was one of those big flakey snows that aren't good for making forts or snowballs. While walking between classes I wanted to open my mouth and try to catch the snowflakes on my tongue but I refrained, in order to not scare the passerbys. We canceled our Bible study tonight, so I will miss my girls. Boo hoo. I personally believe that snow is only good for canceling things you DON'T want to go to-- like classes.

Alias and Lost

Goody. Guess what is on tonight? That's right Alias and Lost. 2 of my most favorite shows. Can't wait. Don't miss them!!!!

Ribbit

My voice sounds like a frog. My throat feels like there is something giant lodged in the back of my espophogus, rubbing it raw. My nose is stuffy and that mixed with a sore throat makes it hard to breathe. I sound like an 80 year old woman snoring in her sleep or a smoker with a wheasing problem. Being sick is misarable. All I could think of during my classes was, I wonder if I look like a ghost. Whoooo, I bet my face is pale. What if a just collapsed right here? Everyone would think I just died of boredom. I wanted to skip class, but I just can't. Something inside my brain says you slacker, you can't skip class, you are a goody-two-shoe. No skipping class for you. What if you missed something important? What if the professor would hold a grudge against you? What if, what if. If only I weren't sick.

The thought that counts

Yesterday we celebrated my dad and pappy's birthday. We ate spaghetti and cake with the whipped icing, as opposed to that super sugurary kind, which make it at least bearable. I told my dad I would get him absolutely anything he wanted on ebay. And guess what he chose? A ring. I didn't want to give him a ring. He'll just get tired of it after a month. I don't even think I would pick jewlry, if I could pick from anything. Then again after a while you feel like there is nothing that you could possibly want after a while. How many tools can you have if you are a dad or earrings and flowers if you're a mom? People refer to the cliche, its the thought that counts. But not really. So what if you say, awwww, that's nice, that took effort. You don't want to be the one that is labeled the crappy gift giver. But really, how is it possible to be continually thinking of new stuff to get? It becomes stressful and then you realize, man, I can't afford giving presents. I liked it better when my mom just writes my name on whatever. AND then, the worst is when you are really excited about something and expect joy on their faces when they open it, but instead you get a confused look, what is it? CRUSH. stomp. stomp. All that "thought that counts" down the drain.

Chess

So I really don't want to do all the work I gotta do. I have a bunch school stuff that is starting to pile up. Why work now when I can wait till hours before it is due and torture myself? My life would be empty without procrastination.

So what do I do instead? I dwindle down the time by playing chess on the internet with people I don't know. The reason I like this variety, is becasue I can take all the time in world to make my decision on where to move next. Nothing pressuring you except for the 3 day limit, but even I don't take that long. I am determined to become a formidable opponent. Yeah, yeah, nerd. Ha ha. I'm not horrible, but not so great either. Check out Gameknot where I like to play. There's nothing to download, Yay. Give me a challenge.

Choked

So, I gave the presentation on the poem that I wrote about earlier and I totally choked. Usually I am a pretty good public speaker, but today I don't know what happened. I was prepared, yet when I got up in front of the class I was nervous, I did the whole shakey voice thing, lose your place doo dah. Ohhh, mortifying. I actually like giving speeches. I don't get nervous. What is wrong with me? You know that feeling after you do poorly on something that you know you shouldn't have, and so you just feel like an idiot? Well that was how I felt today. Luckily I supppose I have plenty of time to realign my ducks. Whew.

So tonight, I'm having some pals over to watch Signs because they keep on refering to it, and I listen in my oblivious stupor. It had better be as good as the rumors. We shall see.

That lady

So tonight I'm dragging Tami and Katie (who volunteered) to go hear that lady speak. You ask what lady? Good question, I forget her name. Ha ha. I only know that she is the lady that played in the tv show touched by an angel. Jeepers. My memory is so bad. What is her name? Basically I want to go just for the purpose of going, even though I don't expect it to be the most thrilling thing in the world. You know what is cool? When people surprise you. Of course I mean the good surprises. My mom just randomly called me to tell me that she was getting me a new cell phone. How neato is that? One of those flip kind to replace the orange, lizard decorated old one, that has a strange smell of clinque Happy perfume... but that is another story.

argggh

Hello children. Sorry for the hiatus. I meant well in updating, but well I got distracted. Please forgive me. I will be good. I will update much more often. So I have a paper to write tonight. It is 1:03 in the morning and I have not started yet. Boy tomorrow is going to be infused with coffee pickmeups. So I have to do a feminist critique on "To his coy mistress" by Marvell. Why did I sign up for this one? I didn't know it was a poem on the first day of class. Poems are so subjective. Somehow certain people think they all- absolutely all- have to do with sex. Can't a person write a poem, just to write a poem, without the hints of sexual repression or whatever? I think its a load of crap most of the time. Plus in history we read this thing about fairytales not being so innocent. Do you realize how gruesome most of them started out being? Little red-riding hood ate her gradmothers flesh and the wolf really ate her in the end. Sick isn't it? Well now that I have ruined your childhood memories, sleep well.