Honey badger don't care

I love finding out hours later that I have a giant papercut on my finger. Ow.

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.

I'm like a POSSUM

My cat is obscenely stupid.

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.

Terra Nova: a Review

Thanks to the magical powers of DVR, I have finally watched the pilot of the new FOX series Terra Nova. This review may be two days too late, but I can hope that, for those of you who haven't yet pulled the episode from the bowels of your DVR or who are considering picking up the series, this might come in handy. Everyone else...uh...yeah.

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....

Night!

It's Museday

I have officially claimed Museday as a day of the week. It is defined as the hours between noon Monday and noon Tuesday. Museday. I feel infinitely more epic.



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.

The Raptor: Part I

I LOVE RAPTOR.

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.

NEW TOY

I HAS NEW COMPUTER.

So pretty

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.

NIGHT, KIDS.

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.

Hey guys

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.

This totally counts

I would legitimately post tonight but for a few things:

1) Still no Dinosaur.

2) Big Bang Theory is back on.

3) My knees hurt.

In other words, this is the best you're gonna get.

Enjoy your friday!

The Dinosaur: Part VI

I knew it was too good to last.

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.


RIP Dinosaur.

MOO-YAH

I've been having a rough couple of days.

But you know who can always make me feel better?

These two

City Sisters are for life.

<3

Letter #8 (A Sonnet)

Dear CommonApp, I have something to say,
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.

I'm over high school drama

Scratch that. I was over high school drama three years ago.


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.

A story to end all stories

Tonight was legendary. And mortifying. And hilarious. And just horribly, horribly embarassing.

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.

The result:

Aren't they pretty?

Future Charlie's Angel

You know you want me.

No, those are in no way the only pictures we took. We were there for close to ten minutes.

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.

We bolted.

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.

Welcome to Buy More

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."

Letter #7

Dear AP Econ,

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??

Love,
Kait

Two for the price of one

Click this link. I'm really not sure what to think.
Oh! an accidental rhyme. That happens all of the time. 
I am so cool. If you doubt your're a fool.

MAD RAP SKILLS  

MERG

I love double contractions. Most notably? "Twasn't." I had an excuse to use that word today in a regular conversation and felt like a BOSS. BOSS

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.

Why am I still watching the Miss Universe Pageant?

You have all been spared. I was going to kick off tonight's post with a "minor" ranting about the asinine televised event that is the "Miss Universe" pageant. I had several paragraphs typed and ready to go, brimming with feminist rage and a simple desire for some sort of human decency.

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.

Goodbyes: a Trilogy

There has been a tragedy. All loitering teens in the tri-county area will mourn. The tears will flow unhampered for there is no shame in this grief, this heart-wrenching sorrow to end all sorrow.

The Target couch is no more.

The couch that we know and love, where some of us have spent many a long hour solemnly sworn to be up to no good, is gone, replaced by a display of Dirt Devils. Yes, the indignity done to our sacred couch is nothing short of abominable. That couch was the location of many of my fondest memories. One cannot even begin to fathom the number of hours I have spent on its soft surface contemplating the universe, discussing life and mortality, and slurping ICEEs. A large portion of my junior year was spent lounging in the display with some of my closest friends, ignoring the curious and often irritated looks of the other customers. (The looks might have been warranted the one time I brought a few of the display Pillow Pets over as well...but I needed a nap that day)

And now? The couch is gone, disappeared, never to be seen again. My heart has been shattered irreparably,  fragments of which are now littered in the cracks of the furniture aisle, proof that I will never love again. No couch can ever replace the Target couch in my heart, and I don't doubt that I will never again love another couch as much as I have loved that one. What we had was real, and what hurts the most is that I never even got to say goodbye.

Thus far, police investigation has yet to yield any sort of conclusive results as to where our poor couch is.

Have you seen this couch?

My thoughts? Couch-napped. This means that we have a 48 hour period in which to find the couch before the authorities will start looking for a body. But I -- I can't bear to think that it is dead. I mustn't lose hope. Hope is all we have.

Always in our hearts, never forgotten.

Goodbyes: a Sequel

"How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard." -- A.A. Milne

Awkward points

What to write about today?

I did nine hours of calculus today. NINE HOURS. Two separate study sessions. Can you even fathom how much calculus that is? At this point, I can't even think, much less function. (Oh Lord, there is no escaping the maths. THE MATHS WILL COME FOR YOU!)

You know what cracks me up? How girls are completely capable of having a full conversation without using words. I can be sitting across the table from a friend, and without actually saying a thing we will be able to exchange vital pieces of information and stay on the same page (or be "paging" as my grown-up friend taught me tonight - I still maintain that there is no way that is a real thing people say).

You know what cracks me up even more? How frustrated guys get when girls have these tacit conversations. It makes it all worth it.

You know what cracks me up the most? Watching a couple of math nerds (a phrase I use lovingly) attempt to recreate plane and vector intersection in three dimensional space using their hands, limbs, pencils, pizza, erasers, and plates. I tried to catch it on video, I really did.

Tomorrow is going to be a hard day. Lots of difficult conversations to have. Wish me luck. I will need it.

Okay, Dylan, you can go to sleep now.

Something Scary

Today, a conversation in one of my AP classes went something like this:

[Teacher]: Okay, so who can give me an example of population composition?

[Student]: Like, the trees.

[Teacher]: W--what?

[Student]: Population of the trees, with, like, fruit? Awkward inexplicable hand motions.

[Teacher]: No. Just...no.

I wish I could tell you that this girl was kidding, or a paganistic tree-hugger, or SOMETHING with some semblance of legitimacy.

But no.

I can't.

Sigh.

I think I might actually be too neurotic for my own good.

Dear Phone,

You just suggested “May’ve” as a legitimate word. Anything I have been holding against you lately is forgiven.

Love, Me



Dear Microsoft Word

PLEASE ACCEPT OSTRACIZATION AS A REAL WORD
I have only used it in, like, a dozen essays up to this point.
IT’S FOR REALSIES, GUYS.

Love, Kait.




Today, I picked up my senior rally shirt. The rally theme is something to do with music (I think) and because seniors got dibs "we" picked rock as our genre, as opposed to European Electropunk or Whale Sounds. Now, when I got this shirt, the first thing I read was "Sensors Rock." Intuition told me this was wrong. At second glance, I realized that the print actually says "Seniors Rock," which made a bit more sense and was almost semi-witty. I could tell Leadership had attempted to channel AC DC when designing the shirt, but take a look:

That looks like Harry Potter to me.

And it is infinitely more cool that way.

Take your vote in the Comment Bar of Epic. (You can't find it? For heaven's sake, it's not that complicated, just scroll down an inch.)

Things that make me sad

M. Night Shyamalan's take on Avatar: the Last Airbender.

I was forced to watch half of the movie tonight. FORCED. Now, normally I would write a real-time review of the movie, documenting my thoughts and impressions as the movie progressed. But, I didn't.

It hurt too much to watch.

When I'm less tired, I will sit down and type out a post containing my rationale for hating the film (though it should be obvious), as well as my thoughts on the series.

BECAUSE IT IS SO DARN GOOD OMGRACIOUS.

So, now, I'm watching the original series on Netflix to atone for the sin of allowing my eyes to witness that travesty of a film.

Today in Ancient Runes

Our professor taught us how to ...


Wait a second, why doesn't it say Ancient Runes on my transcript? It says "Math 6" instead... I don't understand. "Math" should have numbers, right? This material just has line upon line of letters and foreign symbols woven together into a writhing and swirling mass of confusion and anguish.

Point is, if I can read it phonetically, it's not math.


Don't get me wrong, I love calculus.

No, what are you doing? Stop! Don't beat me up behind the bleachers! Not again! WHY??? WHYYYYYY?????

Anyways. Calculus is fun. Shut up. It is. What isn't fun is feeling like you've been dropped into the Matrix every time you open your textbook. (After a while, the fall gives you nasty whiplash.) I miss when math made SENSE. 2+2=4. There, we got that. Wait, 2+2=5 for really big values of 2? WHAT IS THIS BLASPHEMY??? THE BLACKEST BLASPHEMY!




It will be okay if I get a B in this class. It will be okay if I get a B in this class. It will be okay if I get a B in this class. It will be okay if I get a B in this class.

Why I love being a senior

I can go out to see a movie on a school night.

I don't know about you, but up until this point that has been off-limits for me. And being able to do this, to have this freedom, feels AWESOME.

What do I do with this newfound freedom?

I watch Kung Fu Panda 2.

You know I prioritize.

Needles and thread and trips to the ER

I suck at this whole "domesticity" thing.

This is where I politely ask any of my readers with sexist tendencies to please navigate away from this page. You're more than welcome to stay if you like, but no sexist commentary is necessary in the next few minutes. Please, and thank you.

As I was saying.

Today, I decided that I would embark on an adventure, the artsy kind involving a needle and thread. This adventure involved making a bag/purse out of a t-shirt. Now, I'm not the most creative/artsy person. I like straight lines. And rulers. And using rulers to make straight lines. (My AP Econ teacher is currently attempting to murder my OCD by refusing me a ruler during tests when we have to draw graphs. *shudders*) So making this bag was going to be, at the very least, a therapeutic exercise on the road to OCD recovery. I had high hopes that I could at least accomplish that, even if it meant sacrificing some poor t-shirt in my quest to achieve sanity. The first part of the bag was no-sew, which I liked. And it actually turned out really cool! The bag has hard-core fringe, and I'm loving the indie vibe I get off it.

But you know what every good thing under the sun needs?

POCKETS.

My friends from the cruise can attest to how legitimately excited I got when I realized my romper had pockets. To the point of frolicking. (Noun form: frolickation? Frolickment? Frolickitude? Now that last one just looks dirty.) I love pockets. I love clothing with pockets. POCKETS ARE MAGICAL CLOTH PLACES FOR HOLDING STUFFS. Do not question their power. Embrace it.

So, like every normal person, I set about sewing a pocket (that I cleverly made out of a piece of the shirt sleeve from the remnants of the t-shirt) onto the front of my bag.

Now, a few years ago I went to a Bible camp where I was taught how to embroider. Don't question this - it is a significant bone of contention with me and was pretty much where I decided once and for all that feminism is pretty rad.  But, as much as I resented it, I wasn't half bad at embroidery. I actually have a pretty nice sunflower pillowcase somewhere in the bowels of my room, pics if you're interested. So when I went to sew on the Magical Pocket of Awesome, I decided to use a basic embroidery stitch since a) it's what I'm best at and b) it would look nice even if I managed to screw it up.

I was very, very wrong on both counts.

Apparently one's embroidery skills can wane after, err, six years. Suffice it to say, I am very glad that the thread I used blends in with the t-shirt fabric. Otherwise this would be just embarassing. Yes, the pocket is there, attached to the bag. Yes, the pocket has three sides that close and a button at the top. Does the button attach to anything? Absolutely not. Does the pocket fabric lie flat? Your'e funny. Is the pocket straight? You have to be kidding.

Domesticiy is really not my strong suit. Yeah, I can cook (somewhat) and clean (though my mother would beg to differ) and basically manage to not fail at life.  But hand me a needle and thread and you had best hope that the fabric I'm sewing is red because there is going to be quite a fair amount of blood spilled. Mostly mine.

OkayI'mreallynotthatbadatsewingbutwhateverthisistheinternetandIamgoingtocomplaingoshdangit. If anyone has any ideas of where I can get cool, vintage-y t-shirts to make a new bag, that would be awesome. Comments go below. You know the drill.



(Author's Note: In the middle of typing this, my cursor (which displays everything beneath it in negative) rolled over some text, and from the corner of my eye the resulting visual looked somewhat like a spider. I may have screamed. Does anyone know a good therapist?)

Today, I was outsmarted by my phone.

Yes, I am surprised I have lasted this long. Dexter (my Atrix) is a beast. He dominates at life. He wins at winning. He out Chuck Norris-es Chuck Norris.

I have been putting off updating my software for a month now. Why? I'm lazy. This is nothing new, but it was a lot easier for me to just tap the "later" or "cancel" buttons rather than admitting that I might actually have to learn how to use my phone again. I knew I would do the update eventually, but that was always Future Kaitlyn's problem, and I wanted to let her deal with it some other time.

Then, my phone tricked me.

At 5 in the morning I randomly woke up. Having watched another third of The Two Towers previously that day, I started thinking about orcs. Sleep naturally decided to evade me for a good half hour. Recognizing this, I untangled myself from my headphone cords and reached for my phone, just in case I happened to have been texted sometime in the previous seven hours.

Now, my phone wanted the update. Like really wanted the update. To the point of asking me every three hours if I wanted to download the update. The requests became almost pitiful, actually. Normally, I would just put off the update or hit cancel, but apparently my repeated defiance had over time caused Dexter to harbor resentment towards me, and that resentment slowly built up into rage. Pure, unadulterated rage.

Dexter was going to get that update, whether I liked it or not. He was a phone on a mission, and neither man nor God was going to stop him.

So, in my moment of exhuastion-induced weakness, Dexter blinded me with its bright screen right as I moved to tap the "cancel" button. My hand slipped, and Dexter emerged triumphant.

He's a tricky little devil, that Dexter.





All right, so now that I've hopefully amused you with that tale of my failure, a few orders of business.

First, if you will, take a minute to scroll to the top of the page. You will notice that there is a new tab there entitled "The Awesome Tab." If you bother to click on it, the Awesome Tab will explain itself. Feel free to click and read - you might learn something. I'll try to keep the Awesome Tab updated as often as necessary, but I wouldn't recommend checking it daily. While I blog daily, I can't find a worthy charity every day for months at a time. I am only human after all.

That brings me to number two. I am hopefully going to be making some formatting changes to my blog over the next few weeks. So, if I'm a little late on posting (or if my posts consist of tiny, pathetic little attempts at humour), don't hate me. Bear with it, if you will. Things should be back to normal in a little while.

Three, I need someone to watch Disney movies with me. Sadface.

Fourth, Sam Martinez and Honah Rosas, I wrote a long-form post. Be happy.
 
Five, Brittni is way too in love with elephants. I miss you, Girls State.

Something depressing

My phone tried to autocorrect "moat" to "most" today. Obviously my texts do not include nearly enough medieval references as they should. I am disappoint.

Yeah, I know this is a pathetic excuse for a blog post. I'm watching the LotR sequel tonight. With any luck I will post my response to that by tomorrow night. Or maybe I'll do my AP Lit essay. (Mama Lutjens, please love me again.)

Happy weekend, kiddos.

Just Desserts

Tonight my mom and I went to Savemart to pick up "a little something for dessert."

We bought a whole cake.

Words cannot describe.

I can't get over how witty that title is. Jajajaja. I crack myself up.