December 7, 2011
I hate hearing this word.
Growing up the daughter of a worker's comp attorney, I have been exposed to this word for as long as I can remember. It has basically been ingrained in my skull, and I know that it has purpose and value and everything. Trust me, I get it, I really do.
But it drives me crazy when people say that you aren't allowed to do something because of liability. It's like they are saying, "Hey, I really don't care if you live or die, but I might be liable, soooooooo....you're not allowed to."
December 6, 2011
It's less attractive than it sounds.
I just seem to have lost motivation. The one person who actually pretended to care about this whole venture is gone, and I'm not going back down that road. I have a lot of stuff to do. I'm out of inspiration, and doing this just seems hard when I'm not even proud of what I put out every day. These are becoming more extended facebook statuses than actual writings.
I don't know.
I'm just afraid that if I stop I'll never start back up again. I don't want to give this up but -- right now it's just hard.
December 4, 2011
If you haven't experienced a migraine, you don't really get it. It's hard to describe - like being hung over without having had anything to drink, like your brain just tops fitting in your head. Pressure builds up behind your eyes, and light and noise make you want to punch something, only you can't move. Then your eyesight goes - first a little blur that makes it difficult to read, it slowly builds until you can't see anything, and trying to focus your vision only makes the headache worse.
It is horrible. I had one of the worst migraines of my life today. I need to go to sleep now.
This is getting tough.
I hate growing up.
December 2, 2011
December 1, 2011
Do you recall the episode of Big Bang Theory from a few weeks ago wherein Sheldon befriended a blue-jay? And he eventually lost said blue-jay and proceeded to post fliers offering a reward for its return?
The email address listed was @yahoo.com.
I find it incredibly difficult to believe that anyone worth their salt in interweb-ing and/or general nerddom would use a yahoo email.
The oatmeal is in agreement.
November 30, 2011
First, it was a slow day. I became the Organization Fairy and put all of the games and movies in the crates, lining them up perfectly and facing the customer and all the same game in the same row and such. It was an OCD dream.
Then, about a half hour before close, this woman came up to the front with two 42" plasma screen TVs to load into her car. She pulled up in an Eclipse. The result:
Then, my manager showed me this video
and this one
All the awards. ALL the awards.
November 29, 2011
I'm not going to college. I'm going to live under the freeway and befriend the homeless people. I will have picnics and be a street artist and get into all sorts of adventures. Who wants to join in?
November 28, 2011
Me: "Yeah, it's a dystopian novel, that's kind of the point."
Mother: "I know, but it pretends to be utopian, but it's really wrong and horrible!"
Me: "...That's like the definition of the word 'dystopian.'"
Choir Freshman: "You can be dead AND engaged."
Um, dear, I think that's illegal.... #necrophilia
Student Teacher: "Sing with good tone and quality - you're not Justin Bieber, thank God."
Yes, thank God indeed.
In other news, my new desktop background and phone background beats yours.
No need to comment on how many bloody icons I have on my desktop. College apps. #seniorgirlproblems
November 27, 2011
2. The scene with the three murderers (Act III: Scene III) reminds me a lot of Fezzik, Vizzini, and Inigo...unfortunately, this isn't a tale of true love and high adventure, and it's completely lacking in fencing, fighting, torture, revenge, giants, monsters, chases, escapes, true love, and miracles...
3. Lady Macbeth be crazy.
4. Act IV: Scene I was probably the easiest thing ever. Literally six pages of cauldron ingredients. I was like "Dude, I've read Harry Potter. I've got this."
5. I love when MacDuff's son cries out (after being stabbed) "Mother, he has killed me!" Um...you might have made that assessment a mite early, dear.
6. Reading this whole thing while listening to "Pilgrim's Hands" and "Queen Mab" from Bare! is confusing as anything. But totally fabulous. But really confusing. Ah well.
7. Sorry, Macbeth - I got 99 problems BUT A WITCH AIN'T ONE.
November 26, 2011
You know what I want to do now?
November 25, 2011
November 24, 2011
So, I've been growing my bangs out. Because they are annoying as anything. Finally, though, they are long enough to put in a ponytail.
In other news, I am now a dinosaur. I didn't do anything to make the hair stick up like that, promise.
Also, now you all have met my trusty TI-84, Attila the Killa. He is awesome. Who needs an 89 when you have Attila? He has never let me down. What a pro.
Then, I was talking to another one of my co-workers while we were on register. She told me that they had been in line since last night.
Today is Wednesday.
Yesterday was Tuesday.
Friday is two days away.
November 22, 2011
It started in the eighth grade. I was on the Science Olympiad team (if you have no idea what scioly is click here), and due to an...interesting schedule arrangement a large part of our work was done in class. We were thirteen and had absolutely no idea what we were doing, so assignment of events was pretty much a mixture of voluntelling and eenie-meenie-minie-moe. I ended up working on the Scrambler (a small car powered by a falling weight that had to travel a specific distance - really easy stuff compared to what we're doing now), and let's just say it was less than stellar. But they still let me cut PVC and everything. Little did I know how lucky I was.
A few weeks before competition, I was really tired. Like really tired. I don't know why. And when I get tired, I get hyper. Like really hyper. I don't know why. Point is, I was playing with a yardstick. And it was really entertaining. So as I waltzed around the classroom, I was spinning this yardstick around and rapping people on the head with it and poking them in the side and getting into all sorts of yardstick-related mischief. (This is the point at which I realize how many times I have said 'yardstick' and how much I wish I could say meterstick. But I know it's not true. Sigh. Frigging inches.)
I broke our helicopter.
Yeah. I hit it with the yardstick. The helicopter two of my teammates had painstakingly constructed from balsa wood and plastic bags. I broke it in half. I am not proud.
And thus began five years of ridicule.
Ever since that fateful day, the unwritten rule was that Kaitlyn was not to be permitted to touch any building events or the robot. At all. To the extent that I would have to put my hands in my pockets if I wanted to go within seven feet of any build project while wearing safety glasses at all times and having a chaperone. Part of me knows that this was for my own protection ("coordinated" has never been a word used to describe me), but I know it was mostly for the sake of whatever had been built and the sanity of our build team. I really couldn't blame them.
But this year, somehow, I have broken down the safety barriers.
I got to drive the robot. Like multiple times. The arm AND the base. And I DIDN'T BREAK IT, GUYS. I got to unscrew something on the robot. I got to stand in the pit. I got to touch the code and do all kinds of cool stuff.
And today, I learned how to solder.
|I'm obscenely proud of this|
That's right. My teammates let me wield a 900 degree iron and solder. CONSENSUALLY. And I didn't break anything, burn myself, or set the building on fire.
MAYBE I CAN BE A NORMAL HUMAN TOO, GUYS.
November 21, 2011
And I am STILL cold.
Sometimes I ask myself, "What the crap, Self?"
November 20, 2011
Shut up. Your laughter is unappreciated here. Go away.
Tonight, I had nothing to do after Mock Trial practice ended. I really had no desire to go home because I know that, invariably, if I did I would just end up sitting on the couch, scrolling through tumblr. until midnight or so. Seeing as I actually DID (and do) have an obscene amount of homework to do, outside of the applications and directs and crosses and pretrial arguments and sponsor calls and research and everything else, I decided to grab some sushi before hitting Starbucks for a few hours to see about knocking out a few math assignments.
When I got to the big Starbucks on my side of town, I realized that there were about forty bajillion people in the store and zero open tables. I ended up chilling on one of the soft, big chairs without even a coffee table, trying to solve for absolute extrema while being absolutely uncomfortable. After a half hour or so (during which time I think I finished a whopping two problems), a table opened up, and I jumped on it.
Two minutes later, the drunk crew showed up. And took the table right next to mine. And because there were more of them than space available, they moved their table a grand four inches away from mine.
And there went my productivity.
Drunk people are funny. Drunk people are easily impressed. Drunk people have difficulty saying "three-dimensional calculus."
#my life is pathetic
November 19, 2011
Raptor is officially ready for Christmas. Bring it, Santa.
The only downside to these otherwise completely fantastic twinkle lights is that they cover up a lot of my tabs, so I'm blindly clicking around until I happen upon the tab I wanted originally and I'm like HUZZAH FACEBOOK, I'VE MISSED YOU.
Holy crap, those lights drain my battery. Night guys, have a good weekend.
November 18, 2011
November 17, 2011
My excitement is palpable.
At least I can console myself knowing that, as much as I hate Twilight, no one hates Twilight more than Robert Pattinson.
I had just gotten off work and gone to my bedroom to
The following advertisement was subsequently played:
|My teachers learned me how to use words good.|
In case you can't read that, the ad is imploring you to not receive "anther" call or use "yor" cell phone. Um, yeah. This is national television, guys....Spell-check is kind of a big deal. But hey, this looks important, right? Maybe it's a PSA about the brain virus you get from the tiny cell-phone aliens that nest in your ears when you spend too much time on the phone. Hey, I would want to know about that.
|Do I really have to be here?|
Then, this frame showed up. Ignoring the horrible syntax on the caption, I...what? What does that even mean? What is this an advertisement for?
|Oh look, porn.|
Yeah....I don't even know.
|If I blink long enough, maybe the people with cameraphones|
and Microsoft Powerpoint will go away.
Wait, that question actually does apply to me... I am hungry. Maybe this is important! Let's wait and see what else is on this list of questions that may or may not apply to my mundane life.
|I'm vintage. It's ironic.|
Ugh, never mind. You wouldn't understand.
Oh wait, what? That was numbered - why is there no list coming up? Why are we just looking at pictures of cell phones that I'm pretty sure are old enough to have Snake as the default game?
And that, ladies and gentlemen, concluded the ad.
You get a secret prize if you can tell me what that was an advertisement for, because I sure as heck don't know. The comment bar is below. Y'all know what to do.
November 15, 2011
November 14, 2011
I found out today that I am working the entire afternoon of Black Friday. Some people would be disappointed or intimidated at the thought of how obscene things will be. I am excited to be in the middle of the crazies for a few hours. I'm sure I shall emerge from my shift with a dozen or so fantasmagical stories. It shall be interesting!
I made a graph for you guys.
Isn't it pretty? I worked really hard on it. Just because I love you guys.
November 13, 2011
November 12, 2011
November 11, 2011
November 10, 2011
Last high school football game ever. Not sure what to think of this. I feel like I should be depressed or content or something, but lately all I've been able to muster is apathy.
November 9, 2011
November 8, 2011
November 6, 2011
It started like this:
Me: [eating oreos because I totally didn't need to be doing homework or anything] Did Oreos get smaller all of the sudden?
Paternal Unit: What are you talking about?
Me: Look at the diameter! I swear, the cookie got smaller!
Paternal Unit: assorted mockery Well....yeah, the diameter does look a little bit smaller....
Me: TO THE FORUMS!
So we each began to scour the internet for confirmation that Nabisco, the dastardly villains, shrunk the size of Oreo cookies. He relied on Wikipedia (UGH), and I ended up on this runner's forum where the original post was: "I was eating Oreos for the first time in a while yesterday and it seemed like the diameter of the cookie was significantly smaller than what I remembered it being. Have they gotten smaller in the last few years?"
Little did this user know, he had unleashed a hellstorm of epic proportions.
|You diabolical little monsters.|
The commentary was awful. Seriously.
The first nasty one: "Hate to tell you brother, but you're just fatter so they look smaller. Just keeping it real brother."
Yes, because asking a question about cookie dimensions is cause for commentary about a person's weight.
Next we had: "They are raising prices AND cutting size. Then the government lies about the inflation rate in the CPI and Flagpole believes them."
Awesome, paranoid conspiracy theory, right on schedule...
Then simply: "grocery shrink ray"
Ooo, that was science-y, good for you!
A bit later: "Yeah. And they're still murdering millions of Palestinians...or Arabs...or was it goats? Can't remember. Doesn't matter, it's all a conspiracy. You don't see it? That's because your mind is OWNED by Big Media which is OWNED by the You Know Whos. Wake Up!"
I'm sorry, what? How did the Palestinian Question even come up? Does anyone remember that this started out as a conversation about OREO COOKIES?
My personal favorite (referring to another commentator's statement that the packages were just getting smaller): "Ooh, package shrinkage. I hate when that happens."
HEY LOOK, SOMEONE REMEMBERED WHY WE WERE HERE IN THE FIRST PLACE: "Just wanted to show that the original point here was questioning the diameter of the cookie, and no one seems to have evidence to the contrary. They have had packages of different sizes through time so changing the standard packaging isn't the same as changing the product."
For each of the comments I put here, there were at least four containing disgusting levels of racism, anti-semitism, and abhorrent spelling that I couldn't bear to defile my blog with. If you're really curious enough, go here. Don't say I didn't warn you.
And while I was being horrified by the Internet, my dad was discovering that for a limited time Nabisco produced triple-decker Oreos. Yes, you heard me correctly.
So much want. So, so much want.
November 5, 2011
November 4, 2011
A spider just crawled from underneath my dresser (the very dresser, mind you, that I had to all-but crawl under this morning to retrieve an earring - meaning that my arms unknowingly crossed into spider-territory and I could easily have died), crossing my carpet in a determined attempt to kill me. Fortunately, my fight-or-flight response kicked in, choosing the heroic option, and I beat the tiny monstrosity into the carpet with the back of my remote before flinging said remote across the room and leaping back to safety.
I am now trapped on top of my bed because touching carpet means sure death by arachnid. It's like that game we used to play when we were little at the gymnastics academy where the blue carpet was "lava" and we had to climb around. Only way less fun because this time instead of having to walk back to the beginning and start over if you stepped on the "lava", the punishment for stepping on the carpet is instant destruction by way of spiders.
Yeah, no way I'm getting any sleep tonight.
As a way of negating the horribly cringe-worthy pain that Black Swan caused me, I'm now watching The Swan Princess. (This is my idea of fun!) SUCH A GOOD MOVIE.
So, with the end of this last school week, a few announcements:
1) For whoever asked, my tumblr. url is http://afragmentofproof.tumblr.com (<--- clickable link, in case you couldn't figure that out on your own). Tumblr. is fun. Don't judge.
2) It's officially winter. My curls have gone haywire. At this point, my flat iron is pretty much going to be shoved under my mattress since it won't be of any use until at least April.
3) I am highly ashamed of my parents. My father asked me to youtube something, and being the loving and devoted daughter I am...I rickrolled them.
And my father said, "Oh, I love this song."
Worst. Response. To. A. Rickroll. Ever.
I am ashamed to share their genes right now.
November 3, 2011
November 2, 2011
November 1, 2011
October 31, 2011
October 30, 2011
October 29, 2011
Obviously I'm not going to college. Today I can honestly say I did not do an ounce of college work. Which was horribly depressing and utterly lovely. There were a lot of things I should have done today, but instead I watched "Footloose" (for the first time, and the entire time I was watching it I kept calling the reverend Don Quixote) and ate ice cream and did other such highly unproductive things. It was great.
I also watched "Battle: LA" and remembered why exactly I don't like alien apocalypse movies. First, this was basically "Independence Day" plus a couple years minus cigars and Jeff Goldblum hilarity. Also, I get awfully frustrated at how Hollywood DOES NOT UNDERSTAND SCIENCE.
1) If we were to be invaded by aliens, they would look nothing like us. They would not have similar anatomy. They would not speak a language we understand. They would not be anthropomorphic humanoids with electrical exoskeletons. GET OVER IT.
2) If aliens found us first, we would be screwed. The end. They would be lightyears ahead of us in technology and weaponry. This is when we give up and try to make friends.
3) NOT EVERY SPECIES IN THE UNIVERSE WANTS OUR WATER.
I might read too many Cracked articles. Just maybe.
Tonight's road trip with my city sisters was a complete success. We experienced a wholly new part of this great state, and minus the creepy fro-yo guys and the highly awkward intersections with two independent sets of stoplights going in one direction, it was completely and utterly fantastic. Maybe there will be more details tomorrow night (but don't hold me to that.) I need some sleep lovelies!
October 27, 2011
1) 20 hours of straight, uninterrupted sleep
2) Not having a math test tomorrow
3) Not having to frantically do applications this weekend
4) Reeses peanut butter cups...and a lot of them
5) The Titanic soundtrack
I don't ask for too much, do I?
October 26, 2011
No? You're not proud of me? Not even a little bit?
It's a hard-knock life.
Today was an uber big day, and now I'm crazy tired. I know, this isn't news to anyone. Cut me some slack.
Tangent: (Tangent plane to a surface at point (x0,y0,z0) with gradient vector <a,b,c> is 0=a(x-x0)+b(y+y0)+c(z+z0), in case you were wondering - look guys, I'm learning something in calc too! Maybe I actually won't fail the test this Friday!) So at this point my tumblr dash is pretty much just a constant stream of HIMYM jokes, Disney gifs, Winnie the Pooh quotes, and assorted memery. It's six different kinds of fantastic. I need a dole whip, stat.
October 25, 2011
I'm drowning in three-dimmensional calculus. (I can graph that)
I'm drowning in a lit essay. (I can analyze that)
I'm drowning in physics homework. (I can integrate that)
I -- it's going to be a long night. Yes, I deserve your pity. PITY THE FOOL.
October 24, 2011
"Oh, your name's Keke...short for Kee...kekekekekekekekeke............."
October 23, 2011
First, I added a new tab ^ and moved the musical stylings tab ----->
If you like these changes, hit me up, and if you have any suggestions for new fixes, the comment bar is below.
Second, I just want to clarify about my previous post. I am giving my mom a hard time - I probably could dress a little more femininely, but I choose not to. But the times that she actually does complain are rare - she is more likely to give me a hard time when I do wear pink or dresses or what have you than she is when I'm not. And when I posted earlier she told me that she thinks I'm pretty even when I'm dressed like a slob. D'awwww :)
Third, IT'S NO LONGER THE WEEKEND, YO. COLLEGE APPS BE DUE SOON, DAWG. I BE GOIN' CRAY-CRAY UP IN HERE.
Apparently, I don't dress like a girl or put nearly enough effort into my appearance to satisfy her expectations. I'm not going to lie - being a girl is a pain. Make-up, heels, the whole deal - it is a LOT of work to go through, and when I am getting like five hours of sleep and have twenty minutes to get dressed in the morning, effort falls to the wayside a little bit. That being said, I do try most days. Just not to my mother's standards. Here is an example of our differing ideas of classy make-up:
My idea of heavy make-up:
Her idea of heavy make-up:
Okay, it's really not that bad, but still. Our ideas of how I should dress differ quite strongly. While I am happy in sweatpants, a v-neck, and Toms with (let's be totally honest) zero to no make-up, she wants dresses and skirts and eyeliner and blush and pink and stuff that really kind of feels like six different shades of effort.
So when my Econ teacher came up to my mother to tell her about how she met my sister ("And I thought it was Kait, but I realized I have never seen her with that much make-up on!"), the dispute was reborn. Only this time she had the Social Science department on her side.
They are ganging up on me.
So tonight I had a church function that required me to put on "real-people clothes." I begrudgingly emerged from my room in one of my less bothersome outfits.
High-waisted skirt, cardigan, ballet flats, the works. I even threw on some eyeliner and mascara for kicks. My mother cheered for the skirt, then begged me to put on lipstick and blush because it still wasn't enough.
The minute we got home, I got my revenge.
Sweatpants, sweater, t-shirt, vans. Feel free to comment on my Princeton t-shirt and UCLA sweatpants. All I needed was my Cal sweatshirt and I would have been totally ready to go. My mother's enthusiasm was palpable.
October 22, 2011
October 21, 2011
October 20, 2011
Solitaire is completely addicting.
I lack the motivation to do a legitimate post tonight. Exhausted merg.
I think I'm going to give up on Thursday and read the Wind in the Willows until it's Friday again. Tomorrow should be a good day.
October 19, 2011
Merg is a noise. Say it out loud. "Merg." Say it louder. "MERG." With feeling! "MERG!!!!!!!!!!"
There we go.
Merg is the noise I make when I'm frustrated. Or irritated. Or tired. Or angry. Or meh. Or whatever. The beauty of merg is that it is completely elastic, and can be made to fit many a context. It's highly comparable to the much more well-known "asdf" or general keysmash "sddvisrnuaehyuifassejknsjkasnuweruianusahneyubrenui." (Actual keysmash may vary).
Because this definition of merg leaves something to be desired, I drew a picture.
I would like to introduce the two of you. This is Merg. I'm not an artist, I know. But this drawing should give you a better idea of what exactly Merg is. I like Merg. He and I spend a lot of time together. Because I was feeling artsy (and I just found out that Raptor + my not-old printer = scanning that takes all of two seconds), I drew some of Merg's friends too.
This is Angry Merg.
This is Happy Merg. Note the butterfly, rainbow, and glitter. This is how you can identify Happy Merg.
This is Confused Merg. Imagine the confused Scooby-Doo face. There you go, you've got it now.
This is College Application Merg. Note the sword, extra-large incisors, and general thirst for College Board blood. I will probably draw more versions of Merg in the future, so don't think you've seen the end of Merg. Hide yo kids. Hide yo wife. And hide yo husbands too. Because Merg be findin' ERRBODY up in here.
October 18, 2011
October 17, 2011
1) I had work and
2) I got really hyper during closing. Now, most people would think that this would make me more proactive and likely to do blog-y sorts of things, but in reality it just made me really unproductive so that
3) when I came home from work I made soup seeing as
4) I was crazy hungry and
5) I needed my fix of crushed ice. And while I was eating my soup and crunching my ice
6) I checked tumblr, which took like an hour seeing as certain people have nothing better to do than reblog EVERY SINGLE THING ON THEIR DASHBOARD. Then
7) I fell into food coma and
8) I realized that I had no real desire to post a real ... well ... post.
9) And my shame at how redundant that was caused me to lose all faith in my ability to write something worth publishing to the vastness of the interwebs because
10) holy crap I'm tired.
October 16, 2011
11 AM: *Turns on laptop with a cheery grin* "All right, here I am, ready to face the day! I have a lot to do and a whole day to get it done. Homework time it is!
12 NOON: "Dude, I did like a whole math problem. Time to reward myself with lunch. Jolly good!"
1 PM: *after finishing lunch* "Homework is frustrating. And hard. I know, I will productively procrastinate for a half hour or so by working on college stuff. Maybe I will actually write those application essays I have been putting off for the last three weeks. Then I will feel better about myself and go back to finishing all of that homework and I will still be able to sleep at a decent hour."
2 PM: "Essays are hard. I don't like them. I will instead do all of the clicking and scrolling necessary to fill out all of the personal information for each application."
4 PM: "There isn't anything else to click or select... My choice is to do essays or homework..."
4:01 PM: *FACEBOOK FACEBOOK FACEBOOK FACEBOOK FACEBOOK*
October 15, 2011
October 14, 2011
Dear Xfinity TV online,
Thanks to you, I am currently watching Tangled on my laptop. I -- I think I love you.
First, my best friend is finally back from college for the weekend. And I am excited beyond belief. I have missed her like crazy.
Second, I think I might be addicted to eating ice. It's not healthy, I don't think.
Third, tonight I worked at an elementary school haunted house. I was picked to be a demented clown with another of my classmates, and when they said "clown makeup," they weren't kidding. We had the whole shebang - facepaint an inch thick all over. Pics on facebook.
Working the carnival was crazy fun. We only made a dozen or so kids cry (more like twenty, but who's counting?) over a four hour period. Other than the obnoxious boys who decided that it was hilarious to prove they were too cool to be scared by our creepy clownish antics (and the teenager who got "freaked out" and proceeded to barrel through the room, destroying a good number of our props in the process), the kids all seemed to have a great time with it. Knowing the names of a few of the kids was really helpful, too. (Sorry, Danielle and Cameron!) Also, our "gorilla" would chase the little kids saying "om nom nom." Twas great.
However, one kid stood out as my favorite by far. He and his friends were taking a long time and dawdling through the room, so it was my job to nudge them in the right direction toward the exit. I bumped the kid, who was about 9, by accident, and he responded by saying, "Hey, don't touch me -- I have life insurance!"
Favorite. Kid. Ever.
October 13, 2011
In other news, the Pixie Hollow Games are coming this fall. I might have to watch that.
So many college apps. So many essays. So much to do. So much insanity. I need chocolate.
October 12, 2011
That is easily the coolest piece of grammar knowledge I will ever know. Ever.
I was highly excited to learn that "crucio" was already accepted in my phone's dictionary.
I want sleep. And Taco Bell. Are TBell chalupas good? I just saw one advertised on TV, and having never eaten one I am hoping to elicit some sort of response from any of y'all. I eat an obscene amount of TBell, and it's nice to be able to expand my repertoire on occasion.
OH MY LORD I NEED TBELL NOW I WILL NEVER SLEEP
(Do you like how I used an interrobang in that meme? You see what I did there.)
October 11, 2011
Sometimes when I try to do homework (like, say, my econ objectives or lit prompts) I get distracted and open tumblr on my phone "just for two minutes" as a completely undeserved reward for "productivity."
Then, tumblr won't load and I decide that it's the Universe's way of telling me to do homework instead.
Then I can't find my pen before the page loads and I decide that it's the Universe's way of saying, " Lol, jk dawg, procrastinate away."
Then I am happy.
Then I decide to blog about it because, hey, the Universe already cleared me to kill time.
Then Blogger refuses to upload my post and I spend ten minutes fighting it and the Universe.
Then I give up and go back to my homework.
And the Universe's pro-academic agenda strikes again.
She is a tricky little devil, that Universe.
October 10, 2011
It needs to be Friday already. I miss Bree. BREE IF YOU ARE READING THIS I MISS YOU MORE AND I CALL DIBS ON BEING RIGHT AND WINNING SO THERE HAHAHA.
Watching "Stick It" makes me miss gymnastics. A little. Like a really-tiny-little-bit. But I still do miss it. I don't miss the stress in the least. I don't miss being yelled at for not being good enough or not trying enough. I don't miss leotards riding up my butt or breathing in chalk. I don't miss getting rips the size of quarters on my palms or sweating into open wounds. I don't miss conditioning or landing on my butt every time I tried a new skill. I don't miss straddling the beam or the fear that would follow every time I did. I don't miss watching everyone excel where I couldn't or feeling like a giant failure.
What I do miss: feeling strong. Feeling like, for a few hours, I didn't have to worry about school or homework. Feeling like I was in control for once.
Merg. This got depressing.
I just realized my iPod is downstairs. Or in my car. Or in some other, far-off place that I can't get to right now. Caratriste.
October 9, 2011
MEEP MEEP MEEP
I am really tired. College is stressing me out like no other. I am thoroughly ready for all of this to be done with. I'll just say this: you know you have picked a good place of employment when your training videos are Star Wars themed.
October 8, 2011
Tonight I experienced my first haunted house/hayride/forest deal. I managed to avoid peeing my pants during the entirety of the time I was there, which was impressive because I am the biggest baby in all of creation.
Some things I learned:
1) Avoid men named Seamus. They will follow you around all night and smell your hair, if given the chance.
2) Singing "Walking on Sunshine" instantly makes things less scary.
3) "Nacho cheese, salty Doritos, turn this boy into burrito" is a valid hex.
4) Boys will volunteer to be the brave ones to stand in the front and back of the group, but at the first sound of a chainsaw they will start running and their macho bravery goes out the window.
I has works in the morning. Night, guys!
October 7, 2011
October 6, 2011
October 5, 2011
Like, I REALLY don't like spiders.
I figured this out a few years ago. I mean, I always knew, but over the last few years it has become horrifyingly apparent that I really, really don't like spiders. People try to tell me "oh, the spiders won't hurt you, they are more afraid of you than you are of them." If that were true, the spiders wouldn't come anywhere near me because I would be THAT SCARY. Seeing as spiders still manage to find me on an almost daily basis, this argument is invalid.
I have perfectly good reason to fear spiders.
First of all, they are scary. LIKE REALLY SCARY.
Second, I have empirical evidence showing that they are the undead. I once killed a spider three times over the course of three days. The first day, I beat it with a wooden spoon and ran it down the sink. The next morning, it showed up again. I beat the little crap again and then ran it through the garbage disposal. The next afternoon, Zombie Spider made his third appearance. I knew it was the same one because half of its eight, disgusting legs were broken and mangled. Yet there it sat, the eight-legged demon, staring at me, daring me to do my worst. If I could speak spider (which would be a completely wasted skill on an arachnophobic, mind you), I'm pretty sure that it would have been saying "Come at me, bro." I spent five minutes beating it with a wooden spoon (the same one from Day 1), then turned the disposal on for another five. It didn't return.
Third, spiders are vengeful beasts. Case in point: the day that I killed Zombie Spider, his friend decided to pay me a visit. When I was sitting peacefully on the couch. How did he make his entrance? By descending inches in front of my face and, after I had screamed and fled, hiding in said couch, making couch-ing impossible for the following three days.
Fourth, they like to hide in my shower. Not cool.
Fifth, nothing normal has eight legs. NOTHING.
So when I say that I am afraid of spiders, believe me.
And I am fairly certain that there is a spider hiding in my garage right now. It has been there for the past few days. I'm pretty sure it lives in the wall that I have to walk by to get to my car every morning.
Here is a diagram of my garage:
Yellow areas represent areas of high spider density, and the dotted blue represents the path I must take to get to my car (the red blob) each morning. My half of the garage is a tight squeeze, to say the least. The way it works is this:
I run from the door to the house around the fridge and recycling bins to my car, being careful to avoid making eye contact with the spider infestation by my right front tire because if I can see them then they can see me and that is scary. I flatten myself against my car door and quickly scooch along until I am past the driver's door enough to open it, being careful not to hit it against the wall. Opening the door requires that I put a block that closes me off in spider territory again, so I throw my stuff into the passenger's seat and leap into the car, slamming the door as quickly as possible.
This happens every single day.
I need a Kleenex.
October 4, 2011
1) College apps
3) Physics homework
4) Econ homework
5) Math homework
7) Having a life
What I am doing:
1) Watching Dirty Dancing on ABC Family
2) Wishing I could dance without looking like Elaine
3) Wondering why life doesn't come with musical numbers
So yeah. This is my life, guys. Comment below if you can commiserate. Or you can just laugh at me. Either way is cool.
October 3, 2011
And I am excited!
I didn't think I would ever make it this far. I can honestly say that writing this blog has definitely changed my life, and I would like to think for the better. I love what I do, and I hope that over the last four months I've at least made a few people laugh or think.
SO THANK YOU FOR READING MY BLOG AND VALIDATING MY PATHETIC EXISTENCE.
I love you, followers. You make my day, commenters. And I would love to go through and thank you all individually, random people I know and love dearly who read my blog on a daily basis, but I don't want to embarass any of y'all.
I wish I could do something clever and witty to commemorate the big 100 posts, but I have college essays to write, and I need to find poor souls to read the drafts and whatnot. Applying for colleges sucks. I'm going to join the Peace Core. Or go live under the freeway. One of those. The end.
October 2, 2011
I then realize that the inhabitant of the adjacent room is playing her Glee CD.
Disappointment. Shame. Sorrow.
Like I was saying yesterday...
Brittni and I arrived at the football game and took our seats by my parents. No one was really around, but there was a good hour until kickoff. People slowly trickled in, and we amused ourselves with taking pictures and commenting on the hilarity that was the visiting team section.
People continued to fill in around us as the clock ticked down to zero. We assessed the people around us, scoping to see if anyone we knew was sitting in the vicinity and such. Finally, it was time for kickoff. And we met our dear friends.
1.) Angry Guy: Angry Guy was angry. Really angry. And by Jove, everyone was going to know he was angry. He was angry at the coaches for calling bad plays. He was angry at the quarterback for having sticky fingers. He was angry at the opposing team for doing well. He was angry at the referees for just about everything. He was angry at his boss and his therapist. (I'm just speculating about this. I don't doubt it, though.) Angry guy had perfected the skill "leaping up onto your feet the second an unacceptable call is made and pointing angrily at the field while yelling expletives so loudly that the players down on the field can probably hear you from your nosebleed seats." He made it an art form, truly.
2.) Ditzy 1 and Ditzy 2: Ditzy 1 and Ditzy 2 sat behind us with their friends Vapid and Clueless. These four said such gems as, "People are cheering, does that mean we scored?" and "If he ran to the far end, do we get a point?" Although each of the women was between fifty-four and sixty-three (just a guess), they spent the majority of the game attempting fruitlessly to take pictures of themselves with one of their iPhone 4's. It was...yeah.
3.) Male Stripper: Male Stripper was a big fan of the home team, and he wanted everyone to know of his deep-seeded love for the team. So, of course, the logical choice was to paint his entire chestular region red, front and back, and spend the whole game shirtless. And, logically, he wore Mardi Gras beads. 'Twould be silly not to. I'm thinking his mental train of thought went something like this: "Dude, I love this team. Like so much. I need to rep mah dogs. But this body paint and completely inappropriate necklaces don't speak loudly enough of my love for this team. You know what would make it better? A pound of silver body glitter. That's it. Done."
Needless to say, it was an interesting game. Watching the parade of drunkards wearing hooker heels attempt to navigate the hills in the stadium was entertaining (and disconcerting) beyond belief, I can assure you.
Today was a good day.
October 1, 2011
Tonight, Brittni and I went to a college football game. More on that in the morning. I have a BIG DAY tomorrow, so I need some sleep, guys.
September 30, 2011
I'm not coherent at all right now. That probably has something to do with the half pound (no exaggeration, I have the receipt to prove it) of candy I ate during the movie this afternoon. (Yeah, I saw Lion King for the third time. Don't even start with me.) My utter lack of coherency is probably going to bite me in the butt when I try to do my CSU applications at midnight. But I'd rather stay up a few extra hours and have the applications done with than wake up at a decent hour tomorrow. Besides, I have homework and such to do tomorrow, and I'll sleep easier knowing that at least these applications are through with.
By the way, college applications take ALL your monies. ALL of them. It's like not even funny.
Right now I'm just waiting for midnight, when the applications open. Then I shall power through them and go to sleep. Oh, blessed sleep. How I miss thee.
September 29, 2011
Tonight, my mother threw her in my room and shut the door rather than dealing with her whining. I tried to get her to come onto the bed and sit with me while I skyped, but she was fickle as ever and refused.
Normally when this happens she walks around for a bit, sits somewhere, then paws on the door to my room hoping that her half-hearted pawing will magically push the door open (even though you have to pull the handle to exit the room - but she isn't very bright, so I won't fault her that one). So, true to her nature, she went through this cute little routine, and after about five minutes she was pawing at the door.
The closet door.
She really isn't the brightest.
September 28, 2011
So, my opinion of the series:
NEEDS MOAR VELOCIRAPTORS.
Raptor felt thoroughly underrepresented. When I realized that there were going to be CGI dinosaurs in the show, I immediately became excited for the inevitable reality of seeing velociraptors eat annoying wannabe actors. BUT NO. Instead, we saw a few Brachiosaurs (because every five year-old should have a pet Brachiosaur) and a T-Rex (called a "carny," as if that doesn't belittle the T-Rex's epic). I might add that the CGI used to create the dinosaurs was about as skilled as a drawing done in crayon on torn paper during a car ride off-road in an earthquake. By the time the first hour of the episode was through (not accounting for the fact that commercials composed about 40% of the show's allotted two hour time slot), I was becoming thoroughly irate.
Finally, when a few of the younger characters got into a sticky situation (caused by teenage drinking - THAT wasn't a political statement at all), they all invariably wet themselves as a giant, fast, smallerish dinosaur hunted them.
I CAN HAS VELOCIRAPTOR???
NO. Teases. "Slashers" are cool and all, but if I don't see me a velociraptor soon, this series just isn't going to fly.
So that's my two cents on the pilot of Terra Nova. Oh, and the premise and actors were cool and stuff....
September 27, 2011
You know what's fun? Stealing Julia's phone. What's more fun? Stealing her phone while she's texting someone in Korean. What's even more fun? Randomly hitting different combinations of characters and asking, "Does that make a word? ... What about this one? ... How about now?" for a good twenty minutes.
She actually taught me how to write "hahahaha," "heeheeheheee," and "keekeekee" in Korean Text Language, as well as the emoticons for crying.
I can officially troll in two languages.
Raptor is officially a beast. Earlier I was walking around carrying said awesome laptop, and I kept going up to my mother and shoving Raptor in her face yelling, "RAPTOR SAYS RAWRRRRRRRRRRR!"
She thinks I'm insane. I'm not really going to dispute that at this point.
September 26, 2011
I got Microsoft Office on Raptor today, so he is almost perfect. He is pretty and fast and shiny and the only thing that will make him better is having all of my music on his hard disk so as to enable me to use his beauteous speakers. SO MUCH PRETTY.
I think my mother is going to refuse to go to Best Buy with me again. Probably because I have too much fun making snarky comments about the Fossil, her computer.
It's still running Vista. I am entitled.
September 25, 2011
I HAS EXCITEMENT.
Keeping with the theme, I have chosen to dub the Dinosaur's replacement Velociraptor, Raptor for short. I have chosen this name because velociraptors are the most awesome and hard core members of the dinosaur world. The Toshiba (a Toshiba satellite, for those of you who are curious) was not my first choice. I fell in luff with this beauteous Asus while shopping at Best Buy, but, alas, it was out of stock AND back-ordered. As pretty as the Asus was, I was sure as heck NOT waiting that obscene amount of time to get another laptop. SO, I decided to get a 14 inch Toshiba. Turns out, it had been discontinued. Never discouraged, I set my sights on a different Toshiba (another Satellite, but this one didn't take all your monies so my cheap side went for it). My mother nixed it because of how big it was. It was pretty big. Not gonna lie. SO, ever the optimist, i chose Raptor. AND I LIKE IT. He is pretty and has a 640 gig hard drive and 6 gigs of RAM and a big screen and FAN-FREAKING-TASTIC speakers. I might be in love.
Also, I promised you lovely folks a picture of the new Target couch.
It was all I could do not to beg a Target employee to take a picture of me hugging this new couch. It's not nearly as comfortable as the old couch, but it'll do.
Before I go back to playing with my new toy, I would like to end with this: tonight, my mother met the character I am choosing to describe as Starbucks Wolverine. At a particular Starbucks in my town, there is a barista who is, to say the least, a rather interesting character. He has monstrous sideburns and gives me a sketch vibe, but every time I enter that particular store we always have...interesting discussions. More on that later.
September 24, 2011
So, the few things I wanted to address last night, in no particular order.
1) HELLO, POTTERMORE.
I have been officially sorted into Ravenclaw House. My wand is 12 and 3/4 inch ash with phoenix feather core. My prefect is awesome. My social life is gone.
2) I find it almost sacrilegious that George Takei is now a regular on a Nickelodeon show called "Supah Ninja." So sad.
3) There is a new Target couch. Words cannot express my joy. Pics to come later when I can access a computer.
September 23, 2011
I had a full on planned post for tonight, full of (what I like to think are) witty retorts and amusing commentary on today's events. But, instead I spent two hours on the phone talking through some stuff. For the few of you that are disappointed, I'm sorry. Tomorrow, I promise. (Though I have an audition tomorrow that I'm crazy nervous about, so if you wouldn't mind keeping your fingers crossed I would be eternally grateful.)
So, seeing as plans changed, there is just something I would like to say.
I love blogging. I have fun writing and expressing my thoughts and ideas with the idea of throwing them out to the vastness of the interwebs and waiting to see what sticks. I love that it makes me write something every day that I am proud of to the point of posting it in front of God and witnesses for the entire world to see. And to be completely honest, it takes a lot of confidence to do this, confidence that I usually lack.
I try to keep my blog a positive place. If you look through my archives, you will see that I don't use profanity. I don't post anything above a PG rating (for the most part). I try as best I can to avoid controversial issues that can cause people to be offended.
But tonight, I got some hateful commentary on my blog. I don't know who. The comments were deleted. I just want to ask you, my readers, to please help me keep my blog a positive place. I'm not saying you have to like me, but if your dislike of me or my blog reaches the point of the comments I received tonight, I ask that you please refrain from posting them and confront me directly. I am sick to think that someone could hate me or that I could have offended someone this much, so please help me if I am being offensive. I love comments on my blog, and I don't want to disable commentary, but what happened tonight made me consider it.
So please, think before you post, here or anywhere. That's all I wanted to say tonight. Have a good weekend.
September 22, 2011
September 21, 2011
Last night, the Dinosaur breathed its last laborious breath.
If you have no idea what I'm talking about right now, click this link. Then this one. Then this one. After that, click this link. Finally, this link. Now that you've read far more than you came to this site for (and given me a zillion page views, which may or may not make my day [if you really want to make my day, click "follow" in the side bar]), feel free to read on.
The Dinosaur died last night, completely out of the blue. I was in the middle of being completely and utterly productive (aka Facebook) when Opera crashed. I figured it was no big deal, probably just the program's way of pressuring me into doing the update.
A few seconds later, the entire system crashed.
I thought this was something manageable - the Dinosaur has played dead before just to mess with my head - but after about twenty minutes trying to restart the little bugger, I realized that this was a serious problem. This is what would happen: I would plug in the laptop, then I would press the power button. The power light would turn on and the charger light. The hard disk light, however, would flicker for a second, then go out permanently. The computer would not start. The screen would not light up. The hard drive would not make that comforting whirring noise.
The Dinosaur is extinct. My prehistoric, beautiful beast has died, and right now all I'm thinking about is the sheer volume of music I have lost. So much music. (Yeah, I should probably care about the college essays I lost too...... I really should.)
Tomorrow, a few of my brilliant, fabulous, fantastic, amazing, totally-awesome-for-helping-me-out-in-my-time-of-technological-distress friends in the Computer Science club are going to try to salvage my files. I'm praying, but not getting my hopes up.
For now, rest in peace, little buddy. I feel certain that you've gone on to a better place, where you and all your prehistoric technological friends can frolic together and pick on the Zunes. Know that you are in our thoughts and our prayers. I will always miss you, your character, and your obstinance, old friend.
September 20, 2011
September 19, 2011
After yet another long afternoon,
Stuck together, penning a new essay
With good cause, I wish these things would end soon.
You see, I cannot take this much longer.
You torture me each and every day.
I had hoped it would just make me stronger,
But instead, soon in my grave I shall lay.
I desire only to make you happy,
To turn those red triangles to green ones,
Yet somehow you don't - no, can't - no, won't see
You make me consider death by canons.
Dear CommonApp, my one and only friend,
I'll stare at your homepage until my end.
September 18, 2011
It's official. Tumblr is the Twitter of the blogosphere.
Okay, that was probably already true, but I felt the need to spread that bit of knowledge to the rest of the world.
I'm tired. Too tired. Adios.
September 17, 2011
My friend and I went to go see The Lion King at a popular movie theater. Why? Because The Lion King is pretty much the epitome of all that is epic in this world. For the record, the film was incredible. Seeing it in theaters was absolutely unreal - you could see the tiniest details that were otherwise unnoticeable, and the animation was simply stunning. But enough of that. Surprisingly enough, the movie was NOT the source of this blog post.
Here we go.
So we parked on the second story of the parking structure at about 7:20, right as the sun was setting. We were surprised at how empty the lot seemed, and as we left the car we noticed four BEAUTIFUL Camaros parked right next to each other a few stalls over. Our first instinct? To take pictures with the Camaros for the blog. No one was around, and the owners of the cars were nowhere in sight.
|Aren't they pretty?|
|Future Charlie's Angel|
|You know you want me.|
So we're laughing and messing around, and we decide to leave the cars alone and go get food or some such nonsense. And as we pass the second Camaro (the red one I'm posing by).... someone revs the engine.
Apparently whoever had been sitting in the car hadn't bothered to alert us to his presence before we made complete fools of ourselves.
Funny story, right?
Oh, you thought it was over. How cute. I wish the story ended there, but, alas, it doesn't.
Where did I leave off? Oh yes, we bolted. We were almost to the stairs (still laughing and mortified and, given our complexions, blushing like crazy, I'm sure) when a group of eight or nine adults ascended into the lot. We tried to compose ourselves so as not to draw unnecessary attention, but as we passed the group one of the guys looks at us and says, "So, you didn't touch the cars, did you?"
Oh yes. The driver of the red Camaro had alerted his buddies to our shenanigans. And of course, we ran into them.
We bolted. Again.
After we caught our breath (we aren't the running types, normally), we looked at each other to make sure that had really happened. We then decided collectively that this was the story to end all stories, but for then we were horribly mortified. What had started as a seemingly innocent attempt to bring some of our awkward nerd-dom to the blog world ended up being a horribly embarassing story to bring to the blog world.
After the fact, I wanted to hole up in a corner and die, plainly, but it was decided that we just needed to tell SOMEONE this story so that this could be one of those "Hey, remember that time when we were creeped on by the driver of the Camaro we were taking pictures in front of and it was totally hilarious?" instead of "Hey, remember that time we made complete idiots of ourselves and wanted to die because we were totally mortified?" So, we told the cashier at the ice cream place. And the cashier at Rubio's. And the guy from Nielson movie ratings after the movie. Slowly, we began to accept that the story was in fact hilarious and worth telling. However, chances are if you bring this up in front of us, we will blush. And get flustered. And want to crawl into a hole and die.
But tonight was legend-wait for it-dary.
September 16, 2011
Reason Mr. Williams is the best substitute ever #389: "And then the mom cavewoman says, 'Okay, kids, let's go gather some nuts because Dad may or may not catch something today.' So Mom gets the corn while Dad is out hunting, sitting on a rock drinking a beer. Hunting is way more fun."
September 15, 2011
Why must you torture me so?
First of all, you won't let me use a ruler. Let me lay this out for you, plain and simple. I am OCD. Now, normally I would have put that in all caps to emphasize just how serious I am, but it's an acronym and already in caps, thereby ruining my chances of emphatic capitalization. I like STRAIGHT LINES. You're talking to the girl who has kept her geometer's template in tact since the eighth grade and sworn by it in every single math class for the past four years. You ask me to graph supply and demand and whatnot on a set of axes WITHOUT A RULER. How on God's green earth can you expect me to create straight lines without a straight edge?
And why aren't there any numbers on the axes? Someone could draw a graph willy-nilly and never be technically incorrect while being egregiously wrong! THE HORROR IS BEYOND BELIEF. Do you just hate me? Is that it? Because I'm really not feeling the love here.
Also, you have me graphing in a cartesian coordinate system....where the x-axis is the dependent variable.
WHERE DO YOU GET OFF??
September 14, 2011
Something I hate: waiting an hour in the orthopedic surgeon's office just to be told to come back in six weeks for another check-up after a five second examination where all he did was have me bend my knee. That, my friends, is the definition of frustrating.
In other news, I wore a dress today. I may have twirled numerous times. Do not judge.
Something I like: Easy Mac.
I've decided that I am a horribly fabulous book thief. I say "horribly" because it must suck to be the people who lend me books. I say fabulous because my collection is looking FAWESOME. "Never lend books, for no one ever returns them; the only books I have in my library are books that other folk have lent me.” - Anatole France
AS OF THIS FRIDAY THE LION KING IS IN THEATERS IN 3D AND OH MY GOODNESS SO MUCH WANT.
In other news, I'm currently drowning in choral music. The good kind of drowning. It is magical.
My thoughts are rather tangential tonight. Does this even count as actually blogging? I feel like this is cheating - a random stream of consciousness typed out into written form. Why am I doing this? Maybe it's because AP Physics is rotting my brain. Or because I am beyond overwhelmed. Or because I am beyond excited. Or because I'm just really, really tired.
TROLL! IN THE DUNGEON!
Thought you ought to know.
Something I love even more: Easy Mac shaped like Spongebob.
Kids, I'm on tumblr now. It's nothing special, I promise you. It is mostly just a motley assortment of internet-y things I find and quotes and such that I feel are too inane to put on my for realz blog. afragmentofproof.tumblr.com
I'm not very creative with my domain names.
September 13, 2011
Then Blogger managed to delete it all.
I'm not sure if that's Blogger's way of establishing that it does not support my feminist rage or if Blogger just hates me.
|My senior portrait.|
So anyways. Scrap that idea. I'm not going to bother retyping it because I'm fairly certain none of you had any desire to read it. I don't support the pageant. And it is horrible for my self-esteem and body image. We'll leave it that.
WHY AM I STILL WATCHING THIS PROGRAM????
Oh yeah, because I like to see all of the pretty dresses. Also, I was really interested in watching as each "contestant" introduced themselves purely because it was fascinating to see how their use of English differed. For the most part, the competition required that the girls introduce themselves in English. "[Name], [Country], Age: [age]." A good portion of the girls spoke in incredibly thick accents, which was to be expected. The non-European/American country represented with the least broken English? India. It's a very interesting sign of national priorities when they make sure to teach their students non-native languages for better international communication. *cough cough US cough cough* Maybe you (yeah, YOU) wouldn't be interested by that...yeah, you wouldn't. Shoot. I forgot to take my Normal Pills this morning.
My knee really hurts tonight. Maybe I shouldn't have been running earlier. Yeah, probably a bad idea.