(no subject)
Man, don't you hate it when you're having a ONEDERFUL dream and then buzz buzz goes your cell phone alarm in your sports bra (it's the only way I wake up) and what you could have sworn was reality just ain't so? At one point i thought it could have happened, but now I don't think so.
I was washing cars with my parents when my mom mentions how "sporty" my car is. "Look at the chrome, Krista. C'mon, you gotta admit it's a little sporty." Huh? Are you kidding me? My car is just about as sporty as sporty spice. . .and we all know she is just a skinny british bitch with tennis shoes. Anyone who has seen or been in my car knows that it is, hands down, a grandma car. . . which isn't far-fetched since i did get it from my grandparents after they used it. But don't get me wrong, I am not complaining at all. I love it in all it's glory: it's weird, skinny red stripe along the outside, the plastic-wannabe-wood paneling on the inside, it's maroon, incredibly comfortable seats, the unused matching pillow that lazily sits in the back seat. . .it's no Ethyl, but you can't help but love something that carries your fat ass anywhere you please. But, i will complain about the fact that it has no name. What happened? Do I hear the beckoning of a spit-naming ceremony? Oh, maybe we should just spit on the sidewalk, i just washed it. . . but I do have to cheat on my white knight just a little this week. Momma dunham is letting me drive her car bare-chested wiff da top down. woohoo, let's go cruizin out ta lunch yo, who wants to come?
Oh man, on Friday during lunch, we almost witnessed an all out brawl. In the parking lot of marketplace, this guy was walking a little bit ahead of us when this car, turning into the street that the pedestrian-man is crossing, goes into ADD mode and doesn't see the pedestrian-man at all. So pedestrian-man gets hit, luckily not ran over, but definitely hit, causing him to go into a rage similar to the hulk. He storms around to the side of the car, opens the driver's door and prepares to punch the guy. But the driver-man just kicks him, attempting to protect himself and get him out of his car. Eventually they're both out of the car just kind of pushing each other, as we continue to just stand there and watch. "You hit me you dip shit!" "I didn't see you, it was an accident!" "How could you not see me?!?" Soon enough, though, driver-man drives away and pedestrian-man pedestrians away. It was like watching enraged Ryan from the O.C., except no one's brother died and he didn't look twelve years old. I wanted to get in between them and pull em apart, but that would have been awkward, and I didn't want to catch the cross-fire of an uppercut intended for driver-man.
FO' MO' DAZE MAN AND WEEZ OUTTIE. mixed emotions. But I love it during times like now when everything is just kind of a whirldwind and all of it is changing. It's exciting. but again, mixed emoshuns. I can't believe I have to choose my schedule for next year by next saturday. Some of the writing seminar classes are pretty entertaining to read about. Victoria's Secret: The Victorian Underworld; Eat My Words: Writing and Food; Banned Books: What do Captain Underpants, Huckleberry Finn, and Heather Has Two Mommies have in common?; The Red Pill or the Blue One?: Critical Citizenship and Hegemony (citing the Matrix); Ecocide: Together we will look beneath the fun, action, and mysticism of the Lord of the Rings, examining how the forces of good and evil treat Mother Earth; Prison Writings. . . they just all seem completly random, hehe, i like it.
okay okay okay, enuf procrastinating. . .i'll study for calculus. after some picture posting, of course.
I was washing cars with my parents when my mom mentions how "sporty" my car is. "Look at the chrome, Krista. C'mon, you gotta admit it's a little sporty." Huh? Are you kidding me? My car is just about as sporty as sporty spice. . .and we all know she is just a skinny british bitch with tennis shoes. Anyone who has seen or been in my car knows that it is, hands down, a grandma car. . . which isn't far-fetched since i did get it from my grandparents after they used it. But don't get me wrong, I am not complaining at all. I love it in all it's glory: it's weird, skinny red stripe along the outside, the plastic-wannabe-wood paneling on the inside, it's maroon, incredibly comfortable seats, the unused matching pillow that lazily sits in the back seat. . .it's no Ethyl, but you can't help but love something that carries your fat ass anywhere you please. But, i will complain about the fact that it has no name. What happened? Do I hear the beckoning of a spit-naming ceremony? Oh, maybe we should just spit on the sidewalk, i just washed it. . . but I do have to cheat on my white knight just a little this week. Momma dunham is letting me drive her car bare-chested wiff da top down. woohoo, let's go cruizin out ta lunch yo, who wants to come?
Oh man, on Friday during lunch, we almost witnessed an all out brawl. In the parking lot of marketplace, this guy was walking a little bit ahead of us when this car, turning into the street that the pedestrian-man is crossing, goes into ADD mode and doesn't see the pedestrian-man at all. So pedestrian-man gets hit, luckily not ran over, but definitely hit, causing him to go into a rage similar to the hulk. He storms around to the side of the car, opens the driver's door and prepares to punch the guy. But the driver-man just kicks him, attempting to protect himself and get him out of his car. Eventually they're both out of the car just kind of pushing each other, as we continue to just stand there and watch. "You hit me you dip shit!" "I didn't see you, it was an accident!" "How could you not see me?!?" Soon enough, though, driver-man drives away and pedestrian-man pedestrians away. It was like watching enraged Ryan from the O.C., except no one's brother died and he didn't look twelve years old. I wanted to get in between them and pull em apart, but that would have been awkward, and I didn't want to catch the cross-fire of an uppercut intended for driver-man.
FO' MO' DAZE MAN AND WEEZ OUTTIE. mixed emotions. But I love it during times like now when everything is just kind of a whirldwind and all of it is changing. It's exciting. but again, mixed emoshuns. I can't believe I have to choose my schedule for next year by next saturday. Some of the writing seminar classes are pretty entertaining to read about. Victoria's Secret: The Victorian Underworld; Eat My Words: Writing and Food; Banned Books: What do Captain Underpants, Huckleberry Finn, and Heather Has Two Mommies have in common?; The Red Pill or the Blue One?: Critical Citizenship and Hegemony (citing the Matrix); Ecocide: Together we will look beneath the fun, action, and mysticism of the Lord of the Rings, examining how the forces of good and evil treat Mother Earth; Prison Writings. . . they just all seem completly random, hehe, i like it.
okay okay okay, enuf procrastinating. . .i'll study for calculus. after some picture posting, of course.