...you're jealous of a seven-year-old.
One of my Facebook friend's statuses read that his oldest daughter had just been caught kissing a boy. The first thing I thought when I read it was, "How the heck is that fair? I've got eleven years on her, and she's probably going to get to first base before me."
Yup. Pathetic.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Holy crap I love my Art History class.
But other than that I'm not exactly loving college.
This could be because I keep locking myself in my room to study.
And when I say "study," I mean that I read about three pages of my Linguistics textbook, throw the book against the wall in frustration/boredom, and then watch like ten episodes of The Dick Van Dyke Show in a row to make myself feel better.
I know. I'm sort of lame.
But it was only four episodes in a row, and just that one time. Prior to doing that I had not watched TV in a week.
But still.
Lame.
This could be because I keep locking myself in my room to study.
And when I say "study," I mean that I read about three pages of my Linguistics textbook, throw the book against the wall in frustration/boredom, and then watch like ten episodes of The Dick Van Dyke Show in a row to make myself feel better.
I know. I'm sort of lame.
But it was only four episodes in a row, and just that one time. Prior to doing that I had not watched TV in a week.
But still.
Lame.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Happy early birthday to me!
Yesterday, I got a box wishing me a happy early birthday.
List of disturbing things about this box:
1) The box was from Proctor & Gamble.
2) Why does the Proctor & Gamble company know when my birthday is?
3) The "Happy Birthday" greeting involved some sort of sports metaphor. "You've got game," or something equally stupid.
4) P&G apparently thinks I'm a man, because the box contained a Gillette Fusion Razor
Don't you just love gender-neutral first names?
Just what every girl dreams of.
List of disturbing things about this box:
1) The box was from Proctor & Gamble.
2) Why does the Proctor & Gamble company know when my birthday is?
3) The "Happy Birthday" greeting involved some sort of sports metaphor. "You've got game," or something equally stupid.
4) P&G apparently thinks I'm a man, because the box contained a Gillette Fusion Razor
Don't you just love gender-neutral first names?
Just what every girl dreams of.Saturday, August 8, 2009
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Long-overdue post No. 1: My first date...
...was with one of my best friend's brothers about two weeks ago.
Her younger brother. By about two years.
I'm nearly eighteen and already I'm a cougar.
But trust me, it was in no way my idea. I'm fairly certain the whole thing was one-hundred-percent her idea, not his. It was a "double date" with my friend and a guy from church as the other couple, and her date actually talked to me more than her brother did. I'd say "switcheroo," but that'd be incestuous and creepy.
We went bowling. Yes, bowling. The first game I got two strikes in a row and then a few spares, which was quite nice, but after that I hit one or two pins most of the time. It was nice while it lasted, though. Anyway, when my friend and I went to look for balls (Hehe. and yes, I turned it into a dirty joke then, too), I asked her whose idea the outing had been. She danced around it a bit, but she said that she'd given her brother "guidelines." I'm pretty sure that she'd wanted it to be an all-church people thing, and seeing as how she doesn't like most of the other girls at church, I was the natural/the only choice. (Minus the fact that I'm actually a heathen and only still go to church to make my parents happy, which she knows. I think.)
What was even more weird was his mother coming up to me at church that Sunday and grilling me about how it went, then thanking me profusely for going with him. You know, I've just realized how odd it is that she let him ask me, actually. She is, after all, the one who told my parents about riding the motorcycle (down the street at 10mph) with he-who-needs-to-stay-in-Germany-forever because it clearly indicated that I was going to become the whore of Babylon or something. (And has that happened? Very much not.)
So anyway, it wasn't actually a terrible night. I'll even venture to say that I had fun. The only thing really dismaying about it was that it was just a tad lame as far a first dates go. I mean, my friend practically forces a guy on me, and that guy is her brother, who is also younger than me. So I'm pretty much the most pathetic creature on the planet. But it is in fact a something. At least when I get to college and I finally meet them man of my dreams, the conversation won't go:
"So tell me about your ex-boyfriends."
"I don't have any."
[eyebrow raise] "Oh, well what about dating?"
"None of that either."
"Never?"
"Nope."
"So...are you a a lesbian?"
"No. Just terrifying. My glares kill people."
...Except explaining why my only date was with my friend's younger brother might be a bit more awkward, actually.
Her younger brother. By about two years.
I'm nearly eighteen and already I'm a cougar.
But trust me, it was in no way my idea. I'm fairly certain the whole thing was one-hundred-percent her idea, not his. It was a "double date" with my friend and a guy from church as the other couple, and her date actually talked to me more than her brother did. I'd say "switcheroo," but that'd be incestuous and creepy.
We went bowling. Yes, bowling. The first game I got two strikes in a row and then a few spares, which was quite nice, but after that I hit one or two pins most of the time. It was nice while it lasted, though. Anyway, when my friend and I went to look for balls (Hehe. and yes, I turned it into a dirty joke then, too), I asked her whose idea the outing had been. She danced around it a bit, but she said that she'd given her brother "guidelines." I'm pretty sure that she'd wanted it to be an all-church people thing, and seeing as how she doesn't like most of the other girls at church, I was the natural/the only choice. (Minus the fact that I'm actually a heathen and only still go to church to make my parents happy, which she knows. I think.)
What was even more weird was his mother coming up to me at church that Sunday and grilling me about how it went, then thanking me profusely for going with him. You know, I've just realized how odd it is that she let him ask me, actually. She is, after all, the one who told my parents about riding the motorcycle (down the street at 10mph) with he-who-needs-to-stay-in-Germany-forever because it clearly indicated that I was going to become the whore of Babylon or something. (And has that happened? Very much not.)
So anyway, it wasn't actually a terrible night. I'll even venture to say that I had fun. The only thing really dismaying about it was that it was just a tad lame as far a first dates go. I mean, my friend practically forces a guy on me, and that guy is her brother, who is also younger than me. So I'm pretty much the most pathetic creature on the planet. But it is in fact a something. At least when I get to college and I finally meet them man of my dreams, the conversation won't go:
"So tell me about your ex-boyfriends."
"I don't have any."
[eyebrow raise] "Oh, well what about dating?"
"None of that either."
"Never?"
"Nope."
"So...are you a a lesbian?"
"No. Just terrifying. My glares kill people."
...Except explaining why my only date was with my friend's younger brother might be a bit more awkward, actually.
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
No more math. Or so I thought.
About a month ago my AP test scores came in the mail, and it turns out I made a 5 on the AP Statistics test. I was overjoyed because 1) math is not my strong point (or so I thought), so it was an extreme confidence booster, and 2) because making a five fulfilled both the core and major requirements for math, meaning that I'll never have to take math during college. Unless I decide I want to. Which would pretty much be masochism since all the math knowledge I currently have is stat-related, and stat isn't exactly "normal" math.
Anyway, I just assumed that never having to take math as an undergrad equaled never have to take math again for the rest of my life. But of course, as so often happens with me, I'd forgotten something.
Graduate school. And a lovely thing called the GRE.
Peachy.
Just peachy.
On another very related note, I leave for college in approximately two weeks. I'm not going to say the exact number of days because it's a bit panic attack-inducing. I'm excited about the classes I'm taking, though: Art History, Linguistics, Shakespeare, and French. It shouldn't be a terribly heavy workload (only totals up to 14 hours), though Art History and Linguistics could end up being challenging. Anyway. I'm starting to get particularly excited about the English classes I'll be taking over the next four years. At the moment I most want to take a course in 18th century literature (which would cover Austen, among others) and another in 19th century literature (Dickens, Brontës, etc.). I might not actually be able to take both, though. They divide the different English classes into something like seven areas and English majors are supposed to take one class in each area. And I'm fairly certain 18th and 19th century literature fall into the same area....
Humph. Silly college requirements. Wanting me to be well-rounded and things. Entirely unnecessary.
Especially since I already know I'm going to end up as a crazy expert on pre-Victorian/Victorian era literature. I will wield Thomas Hardy, and the world will bow before me.
Anyway, I just assumed that never having to take math as an undergrad equaled never have to take math again for the rest of my life. But of course, as so often happens with me, I'd forgotten something.
Graduate school. And a lovely thing called the GRE.
Peachy.
Just peachy.
On another very related note, I leave for college in approximately two weeks. I'm not going to say the exact number of days because it's a bit panic attack-inducing. I'm excited about the classes I'm taking, though: Art History, Linguistics, Shakespeare, and French. It shouldn't be a terribly heavy workload (only totals up to 14 hours), though Art History and Linguistics could end up being challenging. Anyway. I'm starting to get particularly excited about the English classes I'll be taking over the next four years. At the moment I most want to take a course in 18th century literature (which would cover Austen, among others) and another in 19th century literature (Dickens, Brontës, etc.). I might not actually be able to take both, though. They divide the different English classes into something like seven areas and English majors are supposed to take one class in each area. And I'm fairly certain 18th and 19th century literature fall into the same area....
Humph. Silly college requirements. Wanting me to be well-rounded and things. Entirely unnecessary.
Especially since I already know I'm going to end up as a crazy expert on pre-Victorian/Victorian era literature. I will wield Thomas Hardy, and the world will bow before me.
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Little pieces of happy
My favorite things at present, in no particular order:
1) Pushing Daisies. And pretty much any other show created by the brilliant Bryan Fuller.
2) Prismacolor® colored pencils.
3) Kate Nash's "Made of Bricks."
4) Giada de Laurentiss' Goat Cheese Toasts.
5) Reliving my 60's and 70's-influenced pre-teen years by watching shows like Bewitched, The Dick Van Dyke Show, and The Mary Tyler Moore Show on Hulu.
6) Mrs. Dalloway by Virginia Woolf.
7) This t-shirt, which I don't yet own but will.
10) The terrible hokiness of Warehouse 13.
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Pet peeves
My top ten pet peeves at present, in no particular order:
1) The phrase "pet peeves."
2) When you really have to sneeze but you can't.
3) People who say things like, "But is it elitist if I actually am smarter than everyone else?"
4) That movies like (500) Days of Summer and An Education will probably never come to my local movie theatre.
5) America's Funniest Home Videos. Just go away already.
6) "I don't like black and white movies because there's no sex or swearing or violence."
7) The disgusted face some people get whenever homosexuality is mentioned.
8) Rush Limbaugh.
9) When you have the exact perfect thing to say all planned out in your head, but it comes out as utter nonsense when you actually verbalize it.
10) That I Love Lucy is no longer airing anywhere except the Hallmark Channel.
1) The phrase "pet peeves."
2) When you really have to sneeze but you can't.
3) People who say things like, "But is it elitist if I actually am smarter than everyone else?"
4) That movies like (500) Days of Summer and An Education will probably never come to my local movie theatre.
5) America's Funniest Home Videos. Just go away already.
6) "I don't like black and white movies because there's no sex or swearing or violence."
7) The disgusted face some people get whenever homosexuality is mentioned.
8) Rush Limbaugh.
9) When you have the exact perfect thing to say all planned out in your head, but it comes out as utter nonsense when you actually verbalize it.
10) That I Love Lucy is no longer airing anywhere except the Hallmark Channel.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Austen Automaton
Does my obsession with watching Masterpiece Class stem from a true love of classic literature, or is it me being uncomfortable with anything that doesn't resemble a high school English reading list?
I've just noticed that the majority of books listed as favorites on my Facebook profile are books I've read in school or books I read because of another book I read in school. For example:
Read Pride and Prejudice in school -> Decided I liked Jane Austen -> Read Northanger Abbey, Sense and Sensiblity, etc. -> Became a rabid Jane Austen fangirl.
The above example is somewhat flawed because I actually read Pride and Prejudice about a year before we read it in school, but at that time found it confusing and wasn't able to appreciate it until rereading it for class. Other books on my "favorites" list (Jude The Obscure, Catcher in the Rye, Invisible Man, Wuthering Heights, The Awakening, A Tale of Two Cities, Grendel, Much Ado About Nothing) vary greatly in writing style and in message, but were nonetheless read for school assignments. These books (and play) are all classics, and many books are deemed such because they resonate with so many people and therefore withstand the test of time. So maybe it's not at all odd that I like these books. I'm just a fantastic cliche who likes the same thing that people have been liking for two hundred years.
Maybe my school just did a particularly good job of choosing books that I've found meaningful.
Or maybe I've shut myself down during the past four years and have let school curriculum dictate my likes, my thoughts, my behavior, my life, encoding me into this perfect little English literature automaton.
[Cue melodramtic, angst-y questioning of my very identity.]
I've just noticed that the majority of books listed as favorites on my Facebook profile are books I've read in school or books I read because of another book I read in school. For example:
Read Pride and Prejudice in school -> Decided I liked Jane Austen -> Read Northanger Abbey, Sense and Sensiblity, etc. -> Became a rabid Jane Austen fangirl.
The above example is somewhat flawed because I actually read Pride and Prejudice about a year before we read it in school, but at that time found it confusing and wasn't able to appreciate it until rereading it for class. Other books on my "favorites" list (Jude The Obscure, Catcher in the Rye, Invisible Man, Wuthering Heights, The Awakening, A Tale of Two Cities, Grendel, Much Ado About Nothing) vary greatly in writing style and in message, but were nonetheless read for school assignments. These books (and play) are all classics, and many books are deemed such because they resonate with so many people and therefore withstand the test of time. So maybe it's not at all odd that I like these books. I'm just a fantastic cliche who likes the same thing that people have been liking for two hundred years.
Maybe my school just did a particularly good job of choosing books that I've found meaningful.
Or maybe I've shut myself down during the past four years and have let school curriculum dictate my likes, my thoughts, my behavior, my life, encoding me into this perfect little English literature automaton.
[Cue melodramtic, angst-y questioning of my very identity.]
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Missing out
There's a part at the end of the My So-Called Life pilot when Rayanne tells a group of her friends about the night she had. She looks over at Angela and says "We had a time, didn't we?" Angela, looking almost dumbfounded before answering, says "Yeah, we had a time," and she breaks into this huge grin, like she's overflowing with joy about finally being able to say that she's done something.
Someday, I'd like to be able to smile like that.
Someday, I'd like to be able to smile like that.
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