my birthday, and why I should not be allowed out of my dorm room.
So, yesterday was my birthday. I am now 20 years old, which I find slightly disturbing.
It doesn't matter. I still look 16 and I'm as clumsy as I was when I was 13. I fell up the stairs in the student center's atrium. You know, those big airy things where people get together and chat over coffee and comment on clumsy girls in gray coats. It was fantastic, I tell you. I did find my room key though. Points to me. And, in a terrific burst of hypomanic energy, I rearranged my entire dorm room. I don't think I left anything alone. I moved it all, including my bed, my desk, my big shelves, my fridge and my dresser.
Oh yeah. I'm the Hulk. Just ignore the face twitch.
I have my school things organized too, which leads me to believe that perhaps I have possessed by aliens. Anyway, I'm already aggravated with a loud, stout, blonde girl in my Cultural Anthropology class. Apparently she knows as much as the professor does, and considers it her divinely ordained duty to remind us of this. She also believes that torture is the only thing 'these people' (ie, Iraqis) understand and that it is the only way to get 'it' into their heads. She didn't explain what 'it' was. Democracy, maybe? Or the bountiful goodness of the love of Christ, perhaps? JIHAD!
Christians are far more frightening than Muslims.
On that note, I'm going to church.
It doesn't matter. I still look 16 and I'm as clumsy as I was when I was 13. I fell up the stairs in the student center's atrium. You know, those big airy things where people get together and chat over coffee and comment on clumsy girls in gray coats. It was fantastic, I tell you. I did find my room key though. Points to me. And, in a terrific burst of hypomanic energy, I rearranged my entire dorm room. I don't think I left anything alone. I moved it all, including my bed, my desk, my big shelves, my fridge and my dresser.
Oh yeah. I'm the Hulk. Just ignore the face twitch.
I have my school things organized too, which leads me to believe that perhaps I have possessed by aliens. Anyway, I'm already aggravated with a loud, stout, blonde girl in my Cultural Anthropology class. Apparently she knows as much as the professor does, and considers it her divinely ordained duty to remind us of this. She also believes that torture is the only thing 'these people' (ie, Iraqis) understand and that it is the only way to get 'it' into their heads. She didn't explain what 'it' was. Democracy, maybe? Or the bountiful goodness of the love of Christ, perhaps? JIHAD!
Christians are far more frightening than Muslims.
On that note, I'm going to church.