How naked? Oh how naked?
My water bottle is just a little too excited to be alive. And by that I mean that it soaked the table that I set it on and now the people at the computer commons are giving me dirty looks. Oh well.
My last entry was a little too self-loathing so I think I am going to try and balance it out with an entry about how lovely things are. For now, at least.
I received a twelve out of twelve on my first assignment as a Human and Family Development major. I was going to get up and celebrate with a kind of ceremonial dance (putting my arms out in front of me like a robot and turning my pelvic bone in a kind of circular motion while singing, "Oh yeah!" out loud for about thirty seconds or so), but I figured such actions would just warrant even more dirty looks from the administrators in the computing commons.
It has come to my attention that my personal decorating style comes off as "tacky" and uncoordinated to the unsuspecting, Ikea-shopping eye. To these people, I say "Ha!" After spending over eighteen years of my life in a house that was perfectly painted and decorated to match a single shade of brown, I think that music posters and a giant canvas decoration from the seventies isn't even a proper representation of how "tacky" I can be. Besides, I would rather have unmatched dishes and slightly clashing shades of red in my living room than have people feel the need to take of their shoes when they walked into my place. So, if you're a fan of music posters and comfy couches, then get your butt over to my place and we will party.
Also, I spent Labor Day weekend in California like a true college student. What was supposed to be a cheap road trip ended up costing significantly more than what I had anticipated. So, what does a good college-girl do when she's broke twelve days before pay day? Go to amateur night at a strip club! Or, you know, devote a weekend to selling tee-shirts at blistering hot football games in a sad attempt to make $175 in two days. Besides, poles give me an awful rash. At any rate, my face is melting off. Thank you, Mr. Sun. I appreciate that.
I love you all. I really do
My last entry was a little too self-loathing so I think I am going to try and balance it out with an entry about how lovely things are. For now, at least.
I received a twelve out of twelve on my first assignment as a Human and Family Development major. I was going to get up and celebrate with a kind of ceremonial dance (putting my arms out in front of me like a robot and turning my pelvic bone in a kind of circular motion while singing, "Oh yeah!" out loud for about thirty seconds or so), but I figured such actions would just warrant even more dirty looks from the administrators in the computing commons.
It has come to my attention that my personal decorating style comes off as "tacky" and uncoordinated to the unsuspecting, Ikea-shopping eye. To these people, I say "Ha!" After spending over eighteen years of my life in a house that was perfectly painted and decorated to match a single shade of brown, I think that music posters and a giant canvas decoration from the seventies isn't even a proper representation of how "tacky" I can be. Besides, I would rather have unmatched dishes and slightly clashing shades of red in my living room than have people feel the need to take of their shoes when they walked into my place. So, if you're a fan of music posters and comfy couches, then get your butt over to my place and we will party.
Also, I spent Labor Day weekend in California like a true college student. What was supposed to be a cheap road trip ended up costing significantly more than what I had anticipated. So, what does a good college-girl do when she's broke twelve days before pay day? Go to amateur night at a strip club! Or, you know, devote a weekend to selling tee-shirts at blistering hot football games in a sad attempt to make $175 in two days. Besides, poles give me an awful rash. At any rate, my face is melting off. Thank you, Mr. Sun. I appreciate that.
I love you all. I really do