HI, I'M A GAS LEAK

Sometimes I think life enjoys stressing me out needlessly.

Today was going smoothly, if not amazing. I was complimented three times in my Anatomy Lab class, because I know my stuff. Principles of Development didn't end horrendously, plus the class usually goes by fast. But this is where my life comes screeching to a stress zone with safety cones and police directing traffic - relatively speaking.. at the moment anyway.

I found Ricky and we ventured to get food. I contemplated briefly eating at my dorm, but opted not to because I was craving to have a hamburger. We were off campus for maybe an hour, noting how weird it was that we saw three cops in the middle of the road towards the secret entrance of FGCU, but thought nothing of it because that is something that happens all the time. Trekking back to FGCU after the consumption of delicious burgers was much more of a nuisance than usual - we never have to sit through a light for more than 3 times it turned green before actually making it onto BHG pkwy. Still, we just expected an accident.

We were wrong.

Apparently those three cops from earlier were not just dicking around in the street. They were preparing to shut down the road temporarily. Oh, I'm glad I got that memo. As if it was known of my plight, Tito texted me explaining that A GAS LEAK OCCURED on campus because of construction fail. O rly? I assume the worst, and contemplate whether I could walk from Gulf Coast Town Center to my dorm or if a cop would tackle me screaming about the gas leak as if I'm not aware of the imminent danger that I'd be in. Frankly, danger be damned in that situation, because I was going to work out in 2 hours. Yes, I contemplated that whole scenario just so I could work out, but apparently FGCU promotes heart attacks and poor cardiovascular health in their students.

FGCU is truly an environmental school when they don't even want to have healthy living students anymore.

Well, I panic. I picked the worst day to wear jeans and converse shoes, but at least my shirt was somewhat loose so I could work out in it without getting the gawks and stares that jeans and converse would. Skinny jeans at that. Chauffeured by Ricky, we explored to find some outlet store to purchase shoes and pants - I honestly thought I was never going to be allowed back to my dorm and that homelessness was my only real option.

After said purchase was transactioned at a Beall's outlet, we figured let's check FGCU to see if it's still shut down. It's not. It literally, apparently, just opened when we pulled up into FGCU. I now have pants and sneakers to commemorate my epic journey that started due to a gas leak, and a newfound hatred for Tammy McClasin for not e-mailing me about the opening of FGCU 15 minutes sooner so I could have avoided spending money and also for FGCU for attempting to stop me from exercising.

Oh, and I also hate study guides and stressing out for tests relentlessly to the point that I believe getting ill is within my grasp, but even then it's not an acceptable reason to take the test another day. O, high school, how you hath spoiled me...

i was born to make you happy

DAY SIX: YOUR DAY.

Well early morning on my way to surviving through my school day, I happened upon seeing an otter near one of the nature walkways at North Lake. I thought the otter was a fat raven who accidentally fell into the water area when hunting for worms - to be perfectly honest, I don't think I know what a raven even looks like, but to me, this was indeed a raven. That is until it turned its' head towards me in a cute yet condescending manner like my presence disturbed him and he swam away, revealing his otter tail and obviously, otter face.

I then attempted to turn in my Honors recommendation form, because apparently all of my teachers should remember me from my past year of classes and my new teachers have such a good idea about how I function within with out the class room setting... anyway. The place wasn't open until 9, much to my dismay, since I have a 9:30 am class and my sense of "timeliness" makes it so within 30 minutes of meeting time, I must be available * (exceptions to this coming soon)

I went through my English class with not so much as a hiccup, despite the fact I was irritable due to a lack of proper sleep - seriously, wtf circadian rhythm. Why are you so messed up and causing me nightmarish dreams each night? Even my Civilizations of Asia class wasn't too bad, although by this point my breakfast of turkey, ham, and cheese sandwich had already been burned and used in efforts to keep my body from dying. I rush to go see Tito & eventually Ricky at Jamalam - I eat a flatbread, as is custom on Mondays and Wednesdays, in order to curb my stomach until I can eat copious amounts of food in a messy fashion at Moe's (It's student night!).

After Moe's, Ricky and I went shopping and I bought some awesome converse shoes that are teal, so thus they are amazing and a God send because they are in the exact size I require. They were $20, which idk how much those shoes cost, but now I feel like a successful teenager by thus having a pair. They will replace my black pair of shoes, so those will be primarily for exercise and working out - speaking of which I'm meaning to buy the equipment necessary to workout on Wednesday but I'm procrastinating. Why? Because I fail at life and have a huge test on Monday as well as other homework in other classes.

Another reason why I fail is because vampires have two extra chromosomes. I was so tempted to put that as an answer in my Anatomy 2 lab book, however that would be the moment I'd be called on to answer that question and unknowingly say "because vampires have two extra chromosomes" and feel embarassed because that's a fact from the Twilight series, rather than my Anatomy textbook. Talk about awkward situations...

It's Britney............ bitch =P

My love and intense passion for Britney Spears was ignited again tonight, because of obvious reasons of course. Ricky had my all scared for a future episode that I completely forgot it was Brit's night this time.

I can't think of a time in my life where I didn't like her music - it's still catchy as hell and amazing. Her CD "Stronger" and "Oops! I Did It Again" helped me through my childhood and made any time I went over to my friends' houses that much more fun because we would choreograph dances and scream to the music. I'm completely guilty of being obsessed with pop music from the 90s or whatever we call it nowadays since pop is something else entirely now. I would watch all of her music videos and wish I could be a performer like her back in the day. She was probably a role model of mine back then too and I was avidly supporting her relationship with Justin Timberlake like my life depended on it.

In order to further rekindle that desire for Britney Spears's music, I will listen to her songs from my Ipod with such fervor that my homework will never be completed and my brain will ooze with the hot intensity of a thousand flames.

By the way, I realize that this blog may make me ostracized by real life friends, but I do not care =]

Me and My Old Pal Monday

(PROFANITY BLOG!)



Me and Monday have a love-hate relationship. It's established that I will be on pins and needles until the end of the school day, which by the way, is 8 at night. There are a plethora of things that sends me on a tail spin into stress and possibly anger:

• sorority girls eating oatmeal in the middle of my 9:30 class
• seeing said sorority girls in general
• surprise homework
• lunch time
• the fact I'll do laundry when I only have two hours of free time
• the fact I'll always need a nap before my 5 o'clock class, despite time constraints.

But the biggest thing that will just send me into a bad mood occurred today for the first time since being in college, and maybe in any of my classes after 8th grade.

Some jerk called out my Civilizations of Asia teacher as being unfair grading wise for the test we just took. He's a jerk, because he literally just shouted this out. I would know this, because Captain Jerkface sat right behind me and would not shut the fuck up. Our teacher had corrective eye surgery, Captain, so calm down before you start freaking out in the middle of class. You did bad on your essay? Then maybe you should write better next time, instead of blaming her and making her feel like crap. Then this jerk proceeded to interrupt her while she was talking about political things to say this little gem, "Can we actually get on the topic at hand? Because I don't want to hear your political beliefs, since they aren't credible at all." Not credible? Really? Your actions aren't credible as a human being to another. I was waiting for this jerk to make one more comment during class, because it pissed me off.

If you don't like how she runs things, then grab your things and leave. No one is making you stay there or take that class. What's really the deal breaker for me is the fact he is a college student - I thought we left that immaturity in middle school, but apparently Fort Myers likes to showcase their brilliance in each and every ignorant person. If that happens again, I will say something. It's disrespectful to the teacher and to the class, because you're causing some stupid scene due to your temper tantrum about your grade.

Grow the fuck up.

"You know, I've got this theory; there are two kinds of people in the world. There are lyric people and music people. You know, the lyrics people tend to be analytical. You know, all about the meaning of the song. They're the ones you see with the CD insert out like five minutes after buying it, pouring over the lyrics, interpreting the hell out of everything. Then there's the music people… who could care less for the lyrics as long as it's just got, like, a good beat and you could dance to it. I don't know, sometimes it might be easier to be a music girl and not a lyric girl. But since I'm not, let me just say this: sometimes things find you when you need them to find you. I believe that. And for me, it's usually song lyrics." (One Tree Hill)

Boo Hiss!

Only 118 posts left to make it to a year's worth of blogging, at which point in time, I will start weening off from it so my posts aren't just a complete sack of drivel 9 times out of 10.

Editing Ricky's crappy grammar paper took away from my blog blog time! I needs my sleep for tomorrow because I am hanging out with awesome chickas since the GUYS won't hang out with me because they are lame, and I am not, so thus I shouldn't hang out with them EVERRRRRRRRR.

I think Ricky got his crappy grammar, because I abuse it in my blogs. He should know better than to learn from an ONLINE blog site run by his lousy girlfriend. Silly boy.

And Please Don't Let Me... =]

One of my favorite comedians, as well as Brian Regan, of course. I think about some of the bits I have/had of them on my Ipod and I always try searching for them on Comedy Central. Finding anything done by Brian Regan is a task in and of itself, but it's always worth it.

Speaking of funny jokes =P

Tonight, Ricky took me to a very fancy restaurant! Ya know, the kind where you are seated with menus and tablecloths and waiters? Yes, one of those. I won't give away said location, but the atmosphere made me feel awkward because my mind kept screaming, "INCONGRUITY DETECTED" (Curse you, Allie Brosh from Hyperbole & a Half for making hilarious web blogs that are too funny to be written by a human!!) It was just too bizarre. Then I saw cute kittie cats and wanted to buy them when we went to Petco. We went to see Alpha & Omega which was pretty cute and it had Justin Long in it. In case you didn't know, Ricky is obsessed with him and keeps dragging me to all of his movies; I've seen at least 3 appearances of Justin Long in someway, shape, or form this past month, which is far too many times to be purely "coincidental." I'm onto your celeb crush, Richard.

When you don't have love, it is like there's a party going on and everybody was invited except for you... and you just happen to walk by that house in the rain. (Dane Cook)

GAMIT!

♥

busy day tomorrow and an early wake up time of 5 am! Haven't woken up this early since foreverrrrrrrrrr. But hopefully the day will be fun and eventful, thus it shall be beautiful =]

Van Gogh

"You have the ability to do anything you fucking want with your life and if anybody comes to you, and tells you how to think and how to feel, fuck them."- Tom Delonge

Very wise words, Tom, I'll remember them when I find someone dear to me in your bed with you =]

Did You Know That..

I have a nasty habit of burning myself doing trivial things. It's like my brain knows there's the possibility of getting burnt because the object in question is steaming or feels very warm, but my gut region thinks, "You can handle it! No pain, no gain!" I'm proven wrong every time, but I'll always keep trying to defy common sense.

Tonight for instance, I burned myself putting away leftovers, or perhaps I burned myself. The sensation of burning stuns me and then I never know what to do. I was attempting to take a pot of pasta and transporting it into a tiny tupperware container - we don't have large ones and for some reason asking for help was not an option. I lifted up the extremely hot pot and tried pouring the noodles into tupperware, not realizing that the pasta would overflow into other directions besides where I wanted it to go, then the tupperware would move, because the world is out to make my life difficult. I get the bright idea that holding the pot to my stomach, as I hold tupperware with one hand and the pot/spoon with the other, that it would work. It doesn't. You'd think at this point I would stop, but I don't. I utilize my college sophomore brain the way any college student would.

I grabbed the pot with one hand, used the spoon to scoop dump the pasta into the tupperware container. This worked for about 3 seconds before the sensation of burning kicked in, which still didn't cause me to stop. My method was working - clearly my body would eventually resist the hotness. It didn't. I couldn't ask for help at this point, so I awkwardly tried to save my hand and make sure all the straggling noodles were in the pot before setting it down. At this point in time, my hand doesn't feel like it's been hurt. I'm sure by the time I wake up though, my hand will be blown up with a massive blister, because I'm such a badass.

I just realized using an oven mitt would have been an equally smart idea. There were oven mitts around me too - I guess culinary school is out of the picture, because my brain can't fathom simple logic.

I Don't Even..

You're sitting in the car with two other couples as the odd man out. The car ride starts rocky at first because one of the boyfriends refuses to get in the car because he wants to study, but the girlfriend wants him to ride in the car with her to the store. He relents and gets in the car. This was just the start of what would be the most weird car ride of your life.

While in the car, the radio was blasting crazy loud as the driver of the car moaned randomly, for no other reason than because the singer in the song did. You can't even describe the ride because it's such an experience as you don't know how to feel about it, except laugh. You can't even formulate coherent thoughts, because a conversation went like this before you all even left the dorm--

"So I was biting him and he yelled that he was going to cum and so I bit harder."

I don't know the whole story, nor probably do I want to know. I can't formulate sentences in such a way as to even tell this story with justice.

Billy Shake!

I just realized this second I started typing my blog that my 30 day challenge timeline that I've been keeping is on my computer. You know, the one that konked out on me when I was sleeping in an attempt to commit suicide? I'd like to think my company isn't THAT much of a chore for some, but clearly my computer didn't enjoy being on all the time. I'm sorry computer, that I want you to be accessible at all times. I think of my computer is a prostitute that I may play with when it suits my fancy, which could be at any time - given that information, it's no wonder I leave her on all the time. Now everyone will leave their computers on, and my computer will be the only pissy one because it's bitter towards me. Stupid ho.

ANYWAY. I found where I left off and since I'm severly slacking on my challenge, which I did unknowingly, I figured I'd get the ball rolling because I've been avoiding this question as of late.

DAY FIVE: YOUR DEFINITION OF LOVE.

Dear Mysterious Challenge Man,
I hope it's safe to assume you're a man, although it wouldn't be a stretch to call you a woman. You know what, this would be a woman's question to ask so let me rephrase.

Dear Mysterious Challenge Person, (politically correct! =O )
I would love to tell you what the definition of love is, however I sometimes lose my definition as time goes on. If you asked me when I was six what the definition was, I would have told you that it was finding someone who was "tall, brown hair, and liked mint chocolate chip ice cream." My criteria hasn't changed much, so I believe it's known that I'm relatively a simple person when it comes to expectations. Come to find out, that is wrong. I have a lot of expectations. My definition of love is possibly the most ideal sort of love that could ever exist, which probably only exists in my mind and in romantic comedies.

My definition of love is someone who knows how you tick and what grinds your gears, but they still enjoy your company, although you are indeed eccentric and possibly neurotic. Love is where they will never try to change you, personality or otherwise, because they enjoy the person who you are and wouldn't want you to be any different. Love is respecting boundaries should there be any - I'm sure ideally there'd be none, but you shouldn't pry too deep because you might hit an oil reservoir. Ask the Gulf of Mexico if it enjoyed that experience..

Love is being able to do simple tasks without fear of hurting the other person. Now if it was something extreme like, "Honey, why would you be mad that I had sex with the Portuguese neighbor? You said it was okay!!" then that's a different story and a whole other can of beans. Love is trusting someone without hearing from them for hours and knowing they wouldn't do anything to hurt you (and if they did, you take it out on them next time you see them! =] )

Love doesn't abuse in any way, shape, or form. I can't tolerate it and I won't tolerate it, whether it's physical, emotional, or mental. I have a hard time believing that shows love when you do that, and it's a quick way to losing my respect, which is hard earned.

In a nutshell to keep this from getting too long and winded, I'm not quite sure what exactly love is. There's plenty of movie and book quotes that summarize what I think it is, but since you explicitly said "my definition", I would say it's relatively unknown to me. I guess love is imperfect, because I haven't found love that has obeyed all of my above definitions. It's a very complicated sort of question, and I suppose this is the reason why I've been avoiding it, because I'm not definitely sure of what I even believe in.

My hands smell like bleach and dish soap =/

"Young men's love, then, lies not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes." (William Shakespeare)

Fred the Movie

providing the entertainment I couldn't get from Napoleon Dynamite in a way that is actually cute/adorable =P

“We are shaped by our thoughts. We become what we think. When the mind is pure, joy follows like a shadow that never leaves.” - Buddha

Actually, I Hate The Way You Lie! =P

So I'm really excited because it was my first time bowling at Gator Lanes in a really long time and the very first round I got a strike! I also got the highest score out of 8 people, so I'm pretty darn proud of it. I'm going to ignore the fact that half of the people playing didn't know how to bowl and that a smaller margin barely spoke English, because you know what? I'm awesome and I should feel this way.

I'm incredibly stoked to be reading an entire play tomorrow, especially since it looks fairly long. I'm also pumped for a Phi Eta Sigma meeting tomorrow, which is definitely not a sorority at all, it's like a co-ed smart people club. In case you didn't know, that makes my club far better than any sorority or fraternity because I had to be super smart to get into it, not super rich =]

There's a puppy in my dorm for the weekend and he's super cute. He's also supposedly 30 years old, and I'm not much of a dog connoisseur, but I'm pretty sure that's impossible. I could be wrong, but for some reason, I don't think so. Why? Because I bowled a 101 which secured me the top bowling score, that's why.

I'll be on this high for quite a bit until that is my computer devours my soul in the middle of the night because I abused her. At that point, I'm pretty sure technology would win. But at this moment, I am one awesome gangsta.

WORD.

Megalong - it's like a dinosuar, only with words

Let me paint a picture of the memorable events pertaining to today:

My day starts off nice - I slept well, although I had many weird dreams where Tito got arrested for shoplifting a cup and got TACKLED by the huge female cop, there were other weird dreams but I've forgotten them.

Then my day plummets into me being in a depressive state and not doing anything for basically 3 hours. I did watch Spongebob and even that did not cure my depression.

I then left around 3 to set out to find two books I need to read by Monday & Wednesday - for reader's clarification, I had planning on waiting to buy them until the weekend because I have coupons for Borders and I like being cheap when buying books. So, I drive to the Borders at Gulf Coast Town Center. They don't have either of the books. GO FIGURE. But that wasn't all that occurred when I went to Borders. You see, I have Zumba at 6 on Friday nights, so I dressed in my work out attire, which consisted of black sweat pants, black sneakers, and a black tank top like thing. Point is, I'm wearing all black. I'm sprint walking my way around on the off chance I beat another person from getting the book. There's a lady walking in front of me on the sidewalk just before the entrance, but she was digging through her purse while walking. Very ineffective when trying to get somewhere, btw. So I try walking past her on the right with what little room she gave me. Upon feeling my presence, she FLEW to the far left side of the sidewalk like I was going to rape and pillage her. I gave her a weird look as if to say, "why would I rob you? I'm on a mission!" Then shortly after, there was a black security guard watching me, like I looked suspicious. THERE'S NOTHING SUSPICIOUS ABOUT PURCHASING A PLAY FOR YOUR LITERATURE CLASS, unless that is you're wearing an outfit that may suggest you will kill everyone and be a Viking.

I sped my way to Barnes and Noble to search for my books, and HUZZAH I found one. The one that needs to be read by Wednesday. F M L. I have a limited time, since I'll need to be able to secure my spot at Zumba and be able to drive there without feeling rushed. I contemplate on going to Books a Million by Best Buy. I go there. NOTHING. At least, I couldn't find it, because BAM is so far into the past they don't have computer kiosks that I can type at - I'd have to ask someone to help me, and I had no time for that.

I leave and go to Zumba.

After Zumba, I'm so tired that I start making my way back to my dorm, because now not only do I look like a unibomber but now I reek of sweat and failure. I get near the airport when I realize, "SHIT I NEED THAT BOOK!" Dear reader, I couldn't buy the book tomorrow because it is one of my roommates birthdays, and I am so messed up in the head that I cannot do anything but stay at dorm on the off chance birthday girl wants me to. MOVING ON. I turn around and drive all the way down Treeline to attempt to find The Forum which has another Books a Million. I find it, and I look up and down the aisles for a "theatre/drama" section, which Barnes & Nobles so politely has. I had to subject myself to customer service to be told that said book isn't available, but that they would love to order it for me so it comes in the following week. No, that's not what I want at all, sweet lady who has done nothing wrong to me except not have the book I desire and need.

At this point, I'm hungry and contemplating on stopping to eat. Then Ricky the genius texts me about a bookstore on Summerlin that could have the book. I put aside my desire to go to the Naples Borders to go to this unknown bookstore that I never ended up finding. I'm stressed and tired of driving, so it was not a good time to be associating with me. Today has just been a day of avoidance because Jessica will cut you.

It's around 8 at this point and I'm starting to question why I'm still out given all of the other reasons above. Then I realize, "I never got a birthday present for her. Should I give her one? I don't know her that well. What would I give her? What if the book is bought by someone on Saturday and when I look on Sunday, they give me the run around because they could order it for me by Christmas?" I stress myself out into going all the way to Naples on a wild goose chase that I feared would be a waste of gas.

Ricky calls the Naples Borders to reserve my book (more on this soon). I'm driving on 41, and I'm like, "I don't even know where Tamiami Trail is.. Isn't it another name for 41? What if it's not?" I almost turn on Alico Road to get to FGCU to shower and eat dinner like a normal person after working out, when I realized 41 had turned into Tamiami somewhere along the way. I continue straight, not realizing that Naples is 16 miles away from Coconut Point, a mall center that I hadn't seen for 30 minutes of me driving on Tami/41 hybrid.

I find Naples Borders while it's pitch black outside and I had to do very many illegal things in order to turn into it. Needless to say, I did not want to be here very long. I walk to the cashier and say, "I think my boyfriend reserved a book for me." She stares at me blankly. "My name is Jessica?" She furrows around the books behind the counter and after telling her that the title of it is August Osage County, she reveals that no such book is reserved. Way to fail, Ricky. She points me to the Literature section and said, "The author's last name is Letts and that's the section it is in." Well, at least she gave the affirmative that the book exists in the store. I walk to the section furiously scanning the L's to find my play I've been scouring for. There. Is. No. Book. I get concerned. Maybe, she sent me to the wrong section. I stand there staring at the spot it should have been nuzzled between, wondering if God truly hates me or that maybe this is my dead computer getting back at me for the verbal abuse. Then I start wandering the store, angrily texting Ricky that he didn't reserve the book and that he's made of fail as well. He assures me that he did, but did I want to look like the crazy girl demanding the cashier to look AGAIN because she's clearly blind? No. No, I didn't.

I wander the store, probably looking lost and confused like a child who got separated from their parent at the supermarket. I was determined though. I found a free kiosk that normal people can access. The kiosk said to go to the Literature section for the book. I thought maybe because the kiosk said to go that the book would appear there. Unfortunately it didn't and my trust in computers slowly declines. I stand in the Literature section, looking around, hoping that this is a joke and she'll have my book, and we could laugh about this over some food, because I'm way too hungry to be standing right now.

I then hear the lady call me over and she says that she found it - I'm so overjoyed and I find out that they reserved the book under Ricky's name, because a male called. "We expected a guy to come here!" says some teenager as an excuse. Apparently, they assumed Ricky wanted to buy it in the morning, whether or not he did, I wanted my dumb book then and there. I purchase the book. The lady asks if I'm a Borders member, which I so happily agreed, because this means I'm one step closer to being able to de-stress. She asks if I have coupons as well. Why yes, I just so happen to have a coupon perfect for this opportunity. I dig in my purse - I flashback to that woman at the Gulf Coast Borders - there's no coupon in my purse. I probably had the saddest look on my face, because the lady asked what the coupon was for and how long it was good for. My correct answers allowed me to use the coupon, which made me smile. Things were turning around.

I still don't have a present though. There's nothing worse than not getting a present for someone when they expect one. It also sucks to get someone a present and then they think, "Why did she give me this? I don't even know her, like at all." I'm torn. I stand in Borders, wondering if this is the location for the perfect present - after 10 minutes of staring, I leave to go to dorm.

As I'm driving and my phone keeps beeping, because it needed to be charged, I get an idea surge and I suddenly have the best gift idea in my head. I decide that I need to go to Target. I passed 2 Targets on my way out of Naples. I didn't go to a different Target besides the one at Gulf Coast, because I didn't want to get disoriented when I walked into an unfamiliar Target layout. It's 9 and I told my roommates that I'd be home by then & clearly I'm not. Once I get to Target, I power walk through to get my necessary items. I stand in an aisle for five minutes contemplating what kind of paper I wanted to buy. I go to purchase said items and I get 4 teenagers who appeared younger than I. One of the girls stood obnoxiously close to me, the gay friend kept talking about cupcakes and Facebook, another girl was crying for some reason, and the last girl walked off into the purse section, probably to shoot some cocaine or something.

I'm home at my dorm, and I feel like I'm in the clear. I devour my breaded chicken and rice meal in record time as I type up this blog. Only bad thing is, the night is just starting and I would pick a crazy handmade present when I'm really sleepy.

I'm sorry if the tenses in this blog make no sense - it's been a long, stressful, depressing, angry, hateful day.

She _____ Hates Me!

I think technology is out to get me.

My computer died on the Sunday that just passed, because it demanded a boot device and me in my sleepy state thought, "I can do that later! I want to see Facebook." Little did I know that I wouldn't be seeing Facebook or my computer function again! My hard drive was taken from me in quick haste to be fixed by the tech people who apparently failed at their job when they had to fix it over the summer. I have a love-hate relationship with my computers; I'm not surprised they fail on me, because I usually verbally abuse them when they fail to turn on and make them hurry to load pages when they are clearly trying their best.

Well, my parents lent me their hard drive so I could use Microsoft Word without having to commute to school and basically live in the library. Everything was fine and dandy for what seemed like a good enough period of time where I could get truly comfortable in my surroundings and accept this computer as my roommate. WRONG. It is slowly but surely turning its' back on me when I haven't even yelled at it. Okay, maybe I yelled at it once I realized what the problem has been, but I haven't yelled since that point. Maybe I don't treat my computers right. I don't talk to them as much because I feel really weird sweet-talking my computer by calling it baby. I don't want my human roommates to think I'm any more bizarre than they may already think.

This new loaner hard drive/PC combo won't play sound. Imagine my depression when I realized this trying to watch a Youtube video. Yeah, it was sad. The funny thing is, I watched a video with this new hard drive about 2 days ago. NOW, they decide to stop working. The sound is on in the corner of the computer and the sound was on the Youtube video. I don't know what's going on or if maybe my sound is being transmitted to some other residence. Point is, the sound isn't here and the computer is saying, "What are you talking about?! It's fine! Everything is fine on the home front, Sarge!" No, it's not fine.

When I cannot have the ability to watch a Pokemon musical video on my computer, I die a little on the inside. I get a hole that no one and nothing could fill when this happens. I can't get repaired at a sweat shop with tech guys like my computer could - why must these tragedies befall me? =[

I want you to want to do the dishes!

Lovey dovey eyes: "OMG, who is that fine piece of egg!?"
Shocked eyes: "Whoa! I've never actually seen this guy before!"
WTF eyes: "Who does this weirdo think he is & why is he sitting so close to me?"
Waldo egg: "Who knew hiding from the mob by wearing this disguise would have worked out so well for me all these years? =] "

What do you think the eggs are saying?? That's my opinion ^^ =)

"The electricity of your eccentricity is what makes me want you next to me."

Nommmmmmmmm

I want this in my future living room. I'm not kidding. In comparison to the book case Pac-Man the TV looks tiny, which I guess makes sense since the Pac-Man must feed on it. It'd be especially cute if there were some ghosts along the wall, but as is, this is a pretty awesome picture.

"When you realize how perfect everything is you will tilt your head back and laugh at the sky." – Buddha

Oatmeal + Sororities = RAGE!

There's something about people who eat oatmeal that really tick me off. Correction, there's something about people who will eat oatmeal DURING a 9:30 am class.

Are people too lazy to eat in their own dorms/homes, or are they too rushed in the morning that they HAVE to eat their oatmeal during class?

It's practically a publicity stunt for those who are far superior than the early bird who eats at a socially acceptable time. Oh, wow, not only are you eating healthy, but you're also eating healthy IN FRONT of people? Scandalous. I'm glad you did so in front of me, Ms. Sorority Girl, in a way that I could partake in your total bitchfest need for attention.

During one class, there was FOUR of them eating stupid oatmeal for an HOUR AND 45 MINUTES. It's disgusting. I don't need to see your revolting taste in breakfast foods when I don't even want to be in class. It's not cute seeing you eat your oatmeal by twisting your spoon as if to avoid a brain freeze. It's also not cute seeing all four of you wearing the same shirt. Oh, you're in a sorority? How much money did you pay for your friends? I'm just going to ignore the fact that you all have mountain loads of T-shirts showcasing said sorority, which probably cost a pretty penny. If I could join a group, and not have to pay for shirts, I'd be all over it. However, your hoity toity sorority is a sham.

If sororities and fraternities were actually all about "community" and "making long lasting friendships", then please tell me why you have to pay for membership? Someone please tell me why you have to INTERVIEW and get a call back in order to even have a shot at being in a sorority?

So not only are you pissing me off because you flaunt your inability to make real friends, but now you're eating a type of breakfast that, upon looking at it, makes me want to vomit. It looks like puke - there's nothing appetizing about that. Take your oatmeal and eat it outside, you heathens. If I see one more oatmeal cup in the hands of the sorority girls that SURROUND me in my English class, I will quite possibly flip a desk and maim them.

(It's bad enough that they think their social lives are worth broadcasting loudly during class, but oatmeal seriously pisses me off and this had to be said.)

Breaking Your Computer With Picture Love!!

Giant picture post because I love me some pictures =]



(to really get this picture, try reading the song titles. It's really adorable ♥)












♥ Mr. Darcy and Pride & Prejudice in general = amazing. Exactly how love should be =]

Puttin' On The Ritz

Today was Ricky's birthday! It was a lot of fun hanging out with him and getting to be part of the celebration that lasted two days! =] I'm not quite sure what to blog about because my brain is in that horrible fail mode and it's truly bad because I should know what to say for my boyfriend's birthday blog. I think I'm too tired and scared for tomorrow that I can't blog. Next 30 day blog will be all about you though, Ricky, so you can have your blog then!!

"Everything is more complicated than you think. You can only see a tenth of what is true. There are a million little strings attached to every choice you make; you can destroy your life every time you choose. But maybe you won't know for twenty years. And you may never ever trace it to its source." (Charlie Kaufman)

Bad News Bear

Ricky's pre-birthday events summarized=

- Crazy prehistoric duck attack that almost occurred due to his mom encouraging said ducks with french fries. Prehistoric duck did not want fries; they wanted human flesh, which you could tell by their sharp teeth.
- Since when do ducks have teeth anyway?
- Ricky is a German Jew hybrid, and thus he will constantly be in a state of hating himself
- Admitting to not seeing the movie, "We're Back! A Dinosaur's Story" will cause my father to walk out of the house and leave. This then causes Ricky to go into a state of depression for failing to impress my dad.
- Pizza and cake = great food combination.
- I get headaches from laughing too much, or maybe I get headaches from hearing myself laugh. Either way, my happiness and joy hurts my brain. I think I'm meant to be in a state of depression, which also hurts my head. I'll never have my head not hurting me =(
- I look like a cuddle bear according to my mom.

And also, as the title of my blog suggests I found out bad news today, which I don't know how to express because I don't know who looks at my blog. =/ Situation sucks and I can't do anything about it, because there's nothing I can physically do to prevent it. I'm gonna try looking on the bright side and act like nothing's wrong, although it does kind of bother me.

Plus side, it's Ricky's birthday tomorrow ♥

"It's easy to be cynical. Especially today, when it looks like all our heroes are crooks, our role models frauds. Every now and again, however, when you least expect it, the real thing comes along: someone who can find the heart inside the cynic and give those who hold nothing sacred something to believe in. It's not always easy telling the good from the bad, even if you do get tomorrow's paper today. Sometimes, to find the answers, you have to look in your heart."

It is what it is

"If you meet the Buddha, kill the Buddha. If you meet your father, kill your father. Free of everything, you are bound by nothing. Live the life that is given to you." (Saiyuki)

Idiottttttt

It dawned on me recently that the purpose of the 30 day challenge was to write in a row for 30 days the little topics that it sent me. Since that was kind of a fail, I can only blame my brain for not being quick enough to function properly. I may as well not jump into the groove of posting every day a different topic, because I'm worried it will end up being a post like this. It doesn't make sense nor is it valuable or life-altering. Sometimes, I ultimately fail at life. I hope tomorrow isn't one of those days because I have to take someone's pulse, which is basically Nursing 101. If that's a fail, I may hide myself in my bug/animal infested closet, cultivate mushrooms, and cry.

Anyone that says pulses are easy peasy needs to do the math involved. Why the hell do I want to count tiny squares to find the heart cycle rate? Oh, that's right, I DON'T. I have poor vision as it is, so counting tiny squares that link the P waves kills me. Technology is amazing so tomorrow's lab is practically obsolete. I'm gonna be a horrible nurse...

"(708): He was rambling about life and dignity and happiness. but all i kept thinking was PENIS. YOU HAVE A PENIS. I CAN SHOW YOU WHERE TO PUT THAT PENIS." (Texts from last night)

^ drunk texts just keep getting better and more classy!

Yum Yum Cakes!!

DAY FOUR: WHAT YOU ATE TODAY.

Breakfast = mystery poptarts. I'm not sure if they were actually strawberry, but for some reason they were in my strawberry box. They had purple and blue frosting on it, so I'm a bit skeptical. I think Poptarts just effed me over by giving me a phony strawberry poptart. Needless to say, it started my day off strangely. Oh yeah, I also had a little bag of Cheezits.

Lunch = Chicken Caesar pita from Pita Pit with a bag of salt and vinegar chips. I also had water. Unfortunately, the pita was not up to par with the usual pitas I receive from there. This may be because I didn't get cheese on it, and possibly because they effed my order. Since when does chicken caesar come with bacon? WHY CAN'T THE WORLD SEE THAT FOOD IS IMPORTANT TO ME AND THAT WHEN YOU FAIL, I GET ANGRY?!

Dinner = delicious breaded chicken with white rice and green beans made by one of my roommates Natalie. It was so delicious that I got more chicken and more rice - it was very yum indeed and made up for the fail that was my breakfast and lunch.

Dessert = homemade brownies by Natalie. This statement alone should show that this made up for EVERY fail that has ever occurred today. I ate so much brownie that my Anatomy homework, which was killing me, is but a slight eye sore. Brownies are my anesthesia ♥

I eat horribly, but man, do I eat delicious food =]

WTF

(I had to put a really cute picture to offset the seriousness of this blog, and sadly the picture is somewhat applicable..)

Not necessarily my own words, but I'm voicing my own thoughts while stating facts from the article. Link is at the bottom, which is kind of sad because the article wasn't very long.

Apparently a manual was found circulating through Orange County, Florida, which is the county containing cities like Orlando and Kissimmee. But this wasn't just an ordinary book or even something that's the least bit normal. The only thing that could possibly make it normal was the fact it was a How To book, but the subject matter is completely and totally inappropriate.

It's a "How to Molest Children" book, which right off the bat, you would think, "Hey! That's disgusting AND illegal!" Well, for some reason it's not, despite the fact it explicitly states how to prey on children and get kids not to tell their parents about the incident. The 170 page manual is being sent through e-mail and other electronic ways, which apparently makes it not illegal/practically untraceable?

Let's talk about location for a second. Near Orlando? Really? What huge attraction is there that little kids love to frolick to, because it's the epitome of every kid's childhood? Oh right, DISNEY. This is a splendid novel to come out near such a crowded, kid infested area, but don't worry little Johnny and Susie will be just fine, because no one would ever molest your kids. *sarcasm raised so high that I accidently poked God in the eye and I had to apologize, because ya know, He's God* You'd think this would be kind of a priority, but I guess Disney doesn't want to lose business due to a molesting manual..

I'm pretty sure if I posted that I wanted to kill the President that it would be illegal and they WOULD find me. Look at how many people they arrest for downloading illegal music - I'm pretty sure it's possible to track. The internet was not created yesterday. I'm also pretty sure that if I posted that I was going to rape someone, there'd actually be consequences. Unless the guy would enjoy it, which he totally would because my mere presence is enough to cause immense pleasure. Now I feel really creepy and I was basically stating a fact, which begs the question.

Whose the pervert that wrote a HOW TO book in order to molest children & is it possible he or she has a soul? I'm trying to be open-minded on the gender, despite the fact it probably is a guy, because it's mostly guys that prey on little kids.

I'm so glad I live in a country and state that makes sense. Sorry again, God, didn't mean to hit you so suddenly like that.

Link = http://abcnews.go.com/US/manual-molest-children-legal-cops/story?id=11561609

Nom!

I'm such a horrible procrastinator: my test is on Tuesday and I need to read 93+ pages in a textbook I haven't opened up yet this weekend, let alone since the class started, AND I'm in dire need of a "shop for things Jessica keeps forgetting to get!" day!

World, please slow down for just one day at least. I'd really not like to spend Labor Day laboring over my studies. I know it's my fault, but it's much appreciated if you'd just chill a little bit. Please, chill, because it's extremely hot in my dorms too.

THANKS! =)

"According to a new survey, women say they feel more comfortable undressing in front of men than they do undressing in front of other women. They say that women are too judgmental, where, of course, men are just grateful." (Robert De Niro)

When All Is Said and Done

Two quotes, not necessarily both pertaining to my night, but at different points in my life, these would be the quotes that would really mean something to me. I found them recently, but it just seemed like it was appropriate for tonight. I think I may have contradicted myself, but who says you have to make sense all the time.

"Because sometimes it's easier to say "I hate you" than "I miss you, I wish we didn't fight, I wish you would call me sometimes." Because sometimes, it's easier to think, screw life, screw work, screw everything, than admit that you're overwhelmed and feel like you're drowning. Because sometimes, it's easier to admit the simple things than say the hard things and realize how much you've been struggling and how much you feel as if life has gone out of your control."

"Do you know what scares me? When a person can say, "Fuck it! I don't care," and really, truly mean it. When they can feel that anger surging through them from their feet to the ends of their hair. It shouldn't be like that. It should never come to that. There should be...safety nets. Friends, family, something...anything to catch them so they don't reach that nasty, unforgiving bottom. Once they're down there, there is almost no returning. Not completely anyways. That past will always follow them. It will forever be a shadow no matter if they have moved on from it or not. No matter if they pick up all the pieces, throw them out and start over. It is always there. This scares me."

*Spoiler Alert*

Hm, dunno what to make the blog about, but the picture kinda fits for how this night/day has been so this seems like a fitting "barely made it" sort of entry.

What the F does Mu e Mu even mean!?

DAY THREE: WHAT MAKES YOU DIFFERENT.

Originally when I read this, my first thought was to get defensive and shout back the question to the 30* day challenge similar to a kindergartner. Like I need to be given attitude from a question - I suppose that's what makes me different, but I'd say that's just a snippet of my uniqueness.

I kind of have a morbid thought on uniqueness, because let's be honest, there's A LOT of people in the world. At this exact moment, there are 7,040,635,916 people in the world. That's according to the first website I found when I Googled "how many people are in the world", if you wish to verify my facts.. (RICKY =P). So give or take, there's seven million people walking around on the planet Earth, all of who have distinct personalities and likes/dislikes. I bet there's at least one million people on this Earth like me or at least have similar interests as me. I fit fairly into a lot of roles, and by saying that I'm "different", it almost makes me feel pretentious, like I'm holier than thou and thus I'm the only one that matters.

However, for the sake of answering the question statement, I will say this: When someone uses horrible word choice, I freak out. I say embarrassing things loudly such as, "I think I may be a lesbian," while I'm in a public place. If I had a choice of having unlimited amounts of money for clothes or unlimited amounts of money for books, I would pick the books. I want to hug my female Korean teacher, because she's really adorable when she talks. Despite that, I'm completely straight and love my idiotic, root canal of a boyfriend. I've only ever been in one legitimate relationship before, and even though days get rocky and I'm constantly going up and down on a roller coaster that never ends, I still wouldn't stop riding, because it is fun and enjoyable once I overlook the scary parts behind me. I use a mint flavored chap stick from a company that is called "Yes To Carrots", which is an organic chap stick; I chose this chap stick, because for some reason I'm allergic to most kinds, and figured that mint flavored anything would never let me down. (Side note: Damn you LipSmackers & Burt's Bees and whatever the standard chap stick is for containing things MY LIPS are allergic too - why must my mouth be made of fail, when my words are made of such win? I think God likes to torment me sometimes, how rude.)

The end all, be all difference between me and normal people is that I hate ketchup.

So, 30 day challenge, I hope that answers your question sufficiently, jerk.

*Insert Title*

So very very tired and it's only 9:47!

It was a girl's night tonight and we watched the chick flick, The Back Up Plan. I had a sneaking suspicion that we would legit be watching "A Failure To Launch" again because it was on the floor in the living room - I think I would of threw a couch through the roof if that were the case =P