Why I love people...specifically the "lovely, talented, and gifted" students of UCF
"I Love Everybody and Other Atrocious Lies"
The greatest thing in the world is going to bed at 2 am after working a long hot sweaty shift at Disney and being awoken a mere 4 hours later (after only 5 hours or sleep the night before) to the sound of a car alarm. This car alarm is equipped with the standard horn honk feature. As an added bonus the horn does not honk continuously, it honks for a while, stops, and then abruptly continues again to make sure that all intruders and people within a 5 mile radius know what is going on. Since everyone is awake and aware of what is going on, except the owner of this magnificent vehicle, the alarm will continue going off until someone comes to stop it. This is also an added feature since most alarms will stop after a few minutes, which would obviously allow an intruder to take your vehicle too easily. I love college students.
If you thought that life couldn't get any better than this, I finally fell asleep after a delerious half hour to visions of baseball bats dancing in my head and I am again awoken to the beautious noise that is bass. The person living beneath me apparently has no job (although I am beginning to suspect he is the the pharmceutical industry) and no school work he does not think that 9 am is too early to be blasting his soulful R&B/Rap music. Unfortunately for him, I think his pharmaceuticals have killed a few too many of his brain cells to leave him competent enough to have any logical thought. I also am not sure that his roommates have ever heard of a shirt.
I finally get to start my friday to find out there is no milk. Entirely my own fault. I was not dicouraged by this fact and decided that I would just not eat...yet. I ventured forth to Target where I purchased milk among other things. I come home to an empty apartment and get ready for work. Since there are other "lovely, talented, and gifted" tourists at my place of employment I find it difficult to have a good attitude about going to work today. Thankfully I talked to "god" (AKA my scheduler)and made a schedule change request for my "class" (in ultimate frisbee) on tuesday nights. After a painful 8 hours of "is there where they get off the ride?" and too many ma'ams and sirs to count I am relieved of my duties. I race to my car and back to UCF for a "swing" dance. I apparently missed the info that the last half hour (the part I would be there) would be more booty music than dance music. I was slightly disappointed but not upset. I left at the end of the dance to go to my humble abode (the village and alafaya club). After a heart attack because there was a sherriff on lokonatosa and I was definitely not doing 25 I made it home sans ticket.
On a typical weekend near my living quarters there are at least 2 parties going on that I can see. Unfortunately I didn't see the party the 3rd floor guys were having. At least I took the back stairs like a smart girl. As I climb to the top of the stairs I hear the voices saying "I was so desperate for a beer I" and I tuned them out. Since it was approximately 1 am at this time I'm sure that the beer he was currently drinking was not the one he was "so desperate" for. Just for a minute I am going to backtrack. A few months ago, they had this amazing party, kegs, a million people, loud music, and basketballs. This party was still going strong around 3 am and being the incredibly unreasonable people that my roommates and I are we asked them if they could stop banging the basketballs and turn down the music so we could get a little sleep. Since they did not see fit to turn down the music we called our friends the sherriffs - twice. Since tonight is a few months later I thought that they would have forgotten this incident (either out of drunkeness or their "giftedness") or at least been a little less bitter about it. Ok, back to the present, I hear the lovely comment about beer and finish climbing the stairs and I am spotted. In the 10 seconds it takes me to walk from the top of the stairs to the door I was complimented more than I have ever been in such a short amount of time. Apparently I am a "fat-ass white cracker bitch" among other things. I think that is so sweet of them. And now, here I am, telling you about my great adventures.
I'm sorry that my day took a long time to describe, but I described nearly 24 hours.
The greatest thing in the world is going to bed at 2 am after working a long hot sweaty shift at Disney and being awoken a mere 4 hours later (after only 5 hours or sleep the night before) to the sound of a car alarm. This car alarm is equipped with the standard horn honk feature. As an added bonus the horn does not honk continuously, it honks for a while, stops, and then abruptly continues again to make sure that all intruders and people within a 5 mile radius know what is going on. Since everyone is awake and aware of what is going on, except the owner of this magnificent vehicle, the alarm will continue going off until someone comes to stop it. This is also an added feature since most alarms will stop after a few minutes, which would obviously allow an intruder to take your vehicle too easily. I love college students.
If you thought that life couldn't get any better than this, I finally fell asleep after a delerious half hour to visions of baseball bats dancing in my head and I am again awoken to the beautious noise that is bass. The person living beneath me apparently has no job (although I am beginning to suspect he is the the pharmceutical industry) and no school work he does not think that 9 am is too early to be blasting his soulful R&B/Rap music. Unfortunately for him, I think his pharmaceuticals have killed a few too many of his brain cells to leave him competent enough to have any logical thought. I also am not sure that his roommates have ever heard of a shirt.
I finally get to start my friday to find out there is no milk. Entirely my own fault. I was not dicouraged by this fact and decided that I would just not eat...yet. I ventured forth to Target where I purchased milk among other things. I come home to an empty apartment and get ready for work. Since there are other "lovely, talented, and gifted" tourists at my place of employment I find it difficult to have a good attitude about going to work today. Thankfully I talked to "god" (AKA my scheduler)and made a schedule change request for my "class" (in ultimate frisbee) on tuesday nights. After a painful 8 hours of "is there where they get off the ride?" and too many ma'ams and sirs to count I am relieved of my duties. I race to my car and back to UCF for a "swing" dance. I apparently missed the info that the last half hour (the part I would be there) would be more booty music than dance music. I was slightly disappointed but not upset. I left at the end of the dance to go to my humble abode (the village and alafaya club). After a heart attack because there was a sherriff on lokonatosa and I was definitely not doing 25 I made it home sans ticket.
On a typical weekend near my living quarters there are at least 2 parties going on that I can see. Unfortunately I didn't see the party the 3rd floor guys were having. At least I took the back stairs like a smart girl. As I climb to the top of the stairs I hear the voices saying "I was so desperate for a beer I" and I tuned them out. Since it was approximately 1 am at this time I'm sure that the beer he was currently drinking was not the one he was "so desperate" for. Just for a minute I am going to backtrack. A few months ago, they had this amazing party, kegs, a million people, loud music, and basketballs. This party was still going strong around 3 am and being the incredibly unreasonable people that my roommates and I are we asked them if they could stop banging the basketballs and turn down the music so we could get a little sleep. Since they did not see fit to turn down the music we called our friends the sherriffs - twice. Since tonight is a few months later I thought that they would have forgotten this incident (either out of drunkeness or their "giftedness") or at least been a little less bitter about it. Ok, back to the present, I hear the lovely comment about beer and finish climbing the stairs and I am spotted. In the 10 seconds it takes me to walk from the top of the stairs to the door I was complimented more than I have ever been in such a short amount of time. Apparently I am a "fat-ass white cracker bitch" among other things. I think that is so sweet of them. And now, here I am, telling you about my great adventures.
I'm sorry that my day took a long time to describe, but I described nearly 24 hours.