Bi-Curious George
Well I suck at completing long-term goals for self-improvement. This summer I had planned on doing a Vlog every night, but I'm currently at 15 and it's almost August. That may actually be a good thing however, because two thirds of the entries would have been about absolutely nothing. It's one thing to read about absolutely nothing, but it's another monster entirely to have to watch someone drone on about the toils of getting out of bed, doing homework, and eating.
My new goal for the remainder of the year (and hopefully FOREVER) is to start flossing my teeth every day. I'm decent about flossing on occasion, but I really want to make it an every day thing. I feel gross whenever I go a few days without flossing, so I should just get on that shit and clean my teeth, yo.
Weird thought: Are romance novels of our generation going to be about cyberdating and twitterflirting? I'm totally okay with our generation's complete and utter dependence on the internet for maintaining our social relationships as long as it is NEVER reflected in fiction media. I'm not too worried about the impending doom of pop media, because it would be boring as all hell to watch a romcom about someone's tweetlationship becoming facebook official.
Also, Note to Everyone: Chicken is 1000 times better when it is marinated overnight. I made a really simple combination of salt, pepper, garlic, soy sauce, and a splash of a vinaigrette that has been working wonders for my dinner life. I think I'm really going to miss cooking for myself when school time rolls back around. It's convenient and socially lubricating to have the option of the dining hall, but the food is crap and it's way over-priced. Frankly, I would be spending like a third of the meal plan if I just cooked for myself all year, but I simply don't have that much time in my day. That's what I get for being Mr. W&M (the nerdy third-cousin of Mr. Rock and Roll).
Also also: I'm really glad that I started blogging again. I've missed having the chance to write.. anything. I don't care that I'm just rambling about whatever comes to mind. It makes me feel productive in some way, and I feel like my brain is actually alive. It's a good feeling. Neural plasticity for the win. (I really hate the win and fail have become such a staple in my vernacular. I love being 20, but I hate sounding like I'm 20. If we're still saying this when we're 40, there's going to be a problem with our society as a whole.)
Also also also: I really don't like parenthetical dashes as punctuation. I remember talking about them in AP Composition and musing that they were the love-child of the parenthesis and comma, born of confusion and immune to grammatical convention. I've slipped a good deal from being an aspiring grammarian, but the lapse hasn't opened up my perspectives quite far enough to embrace the parenthetical dash with the whole-hearted affection I lavish upon the comma and parenthesis. I despise when I read my own writing, by the way. You should know that I am 100% aware that I'm the most pretentious twat of all time when I write (and 80% of the time when I simply exist).
My new goal for the remainder of the year (and hopefully FOREVER) is to start flossing my teeth every day. I'm decent about flossing on occasion, but I really want to make it an every day thing. I feel gross whenever I go a few days without flossing, so I should just get on that shit and clean my teeth, yo.
Weird thought: Are romance novels of our generation going to be about cyberdating and twitterflirting? I'm totally okay with our generation's complete and utter dependence on the internet for maintaining our social relationships as long as it is NEVER reflected in fiction media. I'm not too worried about the impending doom of pop media, because it would be boring as all hell to watch a romcom about someone's tweetlationship becoming facebook official.
Also, Note to Everyone: Chicken is 1000 times better when it is marinated overnight. I made a really simple combination of salt, pepper, garlic, soy sauce, and a splash of a vinaigrette that has been working wonders for my dinner life. I think I'm really going to miss cooking for myself when school time rolls back around. It's convenient and socially lubricating to have the option of the dining hall, but the food is crap and it's way over-priced. Frankly, I would be spending like a third of the meal plan if I just cooked for myself all year, but I simply don't have that much time in my day. That's what I get for being Mr. W&M (the nerdy third-cousin of Mr. Rock and Roll).
Also also: I'm really glad that I started blogging again. I've missed having the chance to write.. anything. I don't care that I'm just rambling about whatever comes to mind. It makes me feel productive in some way, and I feel like my brain is actually alive. It's a good feeling. Neural plasticity for the win. (I really hate the win and fail have become such a staple in my vernacular. I love being 20, but I hate sounding like I'm 20. If we're still saying this when we're 40, there's going to be a problem with our society as a whole.)
Also also also: I really don't like parenthetical dashes as punctuation. I remember talking about them in AP Composition and musing that they were the love-child of the parenthesis and comma, born of confusion and immune to grammatical convention. I've slipped a good deal from being an aspiring grammarian, but the lapse hasn't opened up my perspectives quite far enough to embrace the parenthetical dash with the whole-hearted affection I lavish upon the comma and parenthesis. I despise when I read my own writing, by the way. You should know that I am 100% aware that I'm the most pretentious twat of all time when I write (and 80% of the time when I simply exist).