You Don't Know What You've Got Until It's Gone II

Things That People Who Have Don't Want

and People Who Don't Have Are Dying For

[NOTE: these are generalizations and are not true in all cases]

• seen 'Tron'
• hipster status/indie quotient
• leftover Christmas cookies
• their twenty fifth birthday
• bigger boobs
• footie pajamas
• purse-dogs (or so I imagine)
• free unlimited anything
• a relationship/significant other
• time to sleep
• anything from an infomercial
  
  

Ho-Ho-Holiday Tidings

So, although I know I post about things I'm thankful for many a time in this blog, I personally don't find it excessive in the slightest. If you knew the absolutely amazing family and friends I've been blessed enough to have you'd be doing the same. So, as this year wraps up I'd like to (and I encourage you all to do the same) reflect/shout out to those reading how incredibly lucky I am to enjoy all the comforts I have and the company of the people I do. I'm reminded of it every day at school when I wake up to my roommate's absurdly annoying alarm clock that I have the most wonderful roommates and school friends, this break has reunited me with such amazing friends, and of course my incredible family (especially my mother, who deals with me and all my weirdness for someone so different than me....she's normal, I'm not) and all of my friends families who are basically my second home, you're all so amazing and I love you all. That being said, I'd like to take this (slightly belated, sorry....WoW consumed me for about 10 days there...) opportunity to wish you and yours a very happy holiday season, whatever the season be.

Lady Gaga gloves (a self-bought present....haha)

Of course, these people and the incredible oppurtunities I've been lucky enough to have are gift enough, but....I did get some awesome stuff for Christmas. Here are some of the (inner child) highlights

This EXACT 120 crayon tower

Pokemon/Legend of Zelda eyeshadow by an amazing company, Shiro cosmetics (look 'em up!)



Batman Pajamas (not these ones, sadly no cape...and I don't look this adorable in them)

And several more, more practical gifts of course :) These are just the ones I thought you might enjoy. I know my inner child will. Especially as I use my new crayons to color in my three awesome Princess coloring books (ones a GIANT one from the fantastic TStorm <3<3<3) in my batman PJs. Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Joyous Kwanzaa, Good Ramadan and Happy New Years to all (I think I got all the main ones, right?!) and to all a good night <3

This Is a Part of the Blog I Like to Call:

"Look at all the ridiculous things I took pictures on with my phone with the intent to put on my blog!!"

OR

"LAATRTITPOWTITPOMB" for short

A few of my faithful (and wonderful <3) readers pointed out tonight that I hadn't posted on here in awhile (mostly because I'm not actually learning anything noteworthy other than how to kill the shit outta Nazi Zombies. But now that my free trial of WoW has expired *bawls* I'm sure I'll have much more time to talk about all the mundane things I usually do. Starting with this.

Found this in the art building (sadly probably my last time in there, so no more 'Spotted In the Art Building, unless some of my Art Major friends send me things *tear*)

So, school, you can't afford good food or printers that work, but the president needs 'Interior Landscaping'? WHAT THE *%$@ IS INTERIOR LANDSCAPING!?!?!

lol
These are just funny.

Please note that this self-proclaimed "ARTISTIC TOUR DE FORCE" is a $5 calendar of paintings of birds.



Leave It to the Redcoats....

WARNING: PUNS AHEAD (and a lot of 'em)



Now, tell me ya didn't smile....LIAR!

College Resourcefulness

So, as I was blow drying some laundry this morning because I absolutely needed it dry NOW I was thinking back to all the super nifty and resourceful alternate uses for common everyday dorm room products that I've either done myself or heard of others using. Ya know, as a reference point for the rest of us dorm-rats who find themselves in dire need of random things that no one in a dorm would have. Suffice to say you start to look at things differently once you get to college...

Clothes dryer = hair dryer, drying rack in front of heater
Comb = fork
Mug = paper bowl (if you're my roommate)
Hand warmers = flatz
Pillow = arm
Haircut = roommate with scissors (very very trustworthy, fashion forward roommates ONLY)
Heater = laptop
Laundry rack = bunk bed, door knob, desk chair
Flashlight - cell phone
Oil for squeaky door = duct tape
Halloween costume = bed sheet
Sled = dining hall tray
Sustenance = dining hall food
Christmas decorations = dental floss, packing peanuts
Spoon = fork, knife, yogurt container lid
Therapy = blog
Massage Chair = roommates, upstairs subwoofer
Pencil sharpener = Xacto knife
Cutting board = desk (whoops)
Snow boots = rain boots (NOT FOR LONG!)
New rain boots (because old ones have a hole) = duct tape

Any good ones I missed?

Because, Deep Down Inside, We're All Fucking Nuts.

I continually question why I write this blog, and even more, why people read it. But, I suppose that my non-mind reading self can only, at this point, address the first of these issues, and to be freaking honest that's what this post is about anyway I just needed a sound opening sentence (because, you know I always start with that *snicker*).

So why the hell do I write? I think, personally, we're all freaking crazy on the insides and what we actually see of people we don't know well and think are sane is just them being super-good at hiding everything. Ya know? Like people who otherwise seem like sound, logical, well-put together people who are Mr. Joe Sociable at work or in class, then go home and just rock back and forth in a corner because they just hate interacting with people. Or Suzi Life'O the Party who actually would much rather be at home writing music about the contents of her fridge than be getting shitfaced at some party where she doesn't know anyone. Basically, we're all nuts, and we all have our ways of dealing with it. Me? I do one of three things:

1. I talk the ear off of someone who's close to me (least likely, as I don't like burdening people with my problems. Because, really? Why should anyone else be burdened with my shit? They've got their issues and don't want to hear about mine.)
2. Write this blog. Basically a modified version of number one, but put in a way that people can at least get some enjoyment out of my misery (I feel like I've written a post about this whole thing before, but whatever, just stop reading if you're bored. And if you're getting bored on a site you visit to relieve your boredom I think you should take a step back and evaluate what the interwebs is doing to your attention span....)
3. Put "Bad Romance" on repeat in my car and drive around belting out the lyrics until I literally feel my throat bleeding.

I suppose I also play a shit-ton of Tetris too, but that's not specific to me being crazy, Tetris is just fun.

 I guess I also write to keep my ability to, to practice in a way. In middle school I wrote fan-fic (don't ask, don't judge. and no I'll never post anything here) and now I've matured, now I bitch about my life for a narrow audience. Which, I also kind of feel bad about, burdening you dear readers since my life is not bad in the slightest. I'm extremely blessed and fortunate beyond belief to have everything I do, and I'd like to take this crazy-mixed up, night-rambling blog post to take a second to thank people. I'm not naming names, I don't feel like it A and B I think that's catty and a real stupid way to start shit. I think you know who you are. There are quite a few of you, I'm fortunate enough to say, who've really helped me this semester, because it was quite a doozy. You know who you are. I love you deep down from the bottom of my heart, so much so that I cannot tell you in text or words or deeds or gifts or thank-yous. You are phenomenal and I love you from the bottom of my heart.

Anyway, back to being crazy. I suppose you might argue "Jesus ya psycho go see a shrink, write a journal, punch a pillow. Why the hell are you burdening the cyber-world with your stupid, useless shit thoughts. You're just looking for attention and sympathy.' And to you I say tell that to the makers of Facebook, MySpace, Twitter, Xanga, Flikr, formspring, or any of those other social network/lookatmelookatmelookatme sites. Why do you think they're so popular?!?! EVERYONE'S FUCKING LONELY. Everyone wants someone to care about what they're doing, to 'like' their thoughts, to poke them, to leave hearts on their walls. All the time. We need to be constantly gratified that others like us. And yeah, I hate being a part of that. But I am, as much as if not more than most. Why? Because that's our culture, that's what the world has been boiled down to, an endless cycle of repeated need for attention and gratification. I'm not gonna lie, I feel a little tiny flicker of disappointment if people don't 'like' my witty status or new profile picture, but I like  to tell myself its no more than if someone I know at a party doesn't say hello. And yes, I like writing for other people, I like to entertain and I like to be entertained. I don't think that's a crime, it's not hurting anyone. I really don't write anything incendiary and if you don't like it, don't read it. Jeez.

To be honest, I don't even know what I'm saying anymore, I just felt a wave of crazy come on and fought it every way I know. As we speak I'm sucking on a cough drop trying to stop my throat from bleeding while charging my iPod so it's ready for A. my next therapy session or B. xmas shopping in blizzards. Goodnight to you all and best of freaking luck dealing with your individual crazy. As you can see I'm coping with mine...

EDIT: Yeah, so after posting this I just deleted my accounts for at least two of the above sites (goodbye twitter (which was stupid anyway, more on that later) and formspring (no one asked me anything anway)) and one additional site (home of the mentioned fan-fic, sweet god.....). I FEEL AMAZING. DELETE ALL YOUR SUPERFLUOUS SOCIAL NETWORKING ACCOUNTS! YOU FEEL SO CYBER-CLEANLY!

Finals Week: The Final Hour

So, obvs I've been absent due to the horror that is finals. But, here's a lil something to blow your minds, almost as much as mine was when I A. aced my botany final B. discovered the snake game trick on youtube and C. found my blogstats. Enjoy and happy finals week to those of us still sufferin'

Tuna Salad and Cheese Please!

Faith in the opposite sex restored <3<3<3

Dear Women,


I know this is a bold move, but here goes: I'm offering to make you a sandwich. What kind would you like?

Sincerely, Not all guys are d-bags


If you haven't ever been, visit the website DearBlankPleaseBlank.com

(Another) Public Apology

So, I would like to make known an 'error' from a previous post, brought to my attention by one, Sir William of the Turn Table (like you're nickname? everyone needs a secret blog-dentity, this is yours sir). Thou hath been knighted.

Anyway, SW points out that, as defined by Wikipedia, the Disney Renaissance is technically defined as The Little Mermaid to Lion King, 50-odd years off what I defined it as in previous posts. However, let it be known that I still consider those 50-odd years of film (which included Alice in Wonderland, Great Mouse Detective, and Peter Pan) to be classic Disney animation and as such I lump them with the Renaissance period. But, for the record, that isn't the classically defined use of the term. Special thanks to Sir William, who earns his knighthood by fact-checking my audacious claims and offhand comments. We salute you, oh guardian of correctness :)

Things I Do In the Wee Hours of the Morning (1-4am)

• Water my cactus
• Recycle all the bottles left around my room (WATER BOTTLES people, WATER BOTTLES)
• Play sporcle
• Blog (duh)
• Wash out tye-dyed shirts
• Shower
• Doodle
• Write lists
• Creep on Facebook
• Eat the vitamins I forgot to take this morning
• Visit the vending mechine
• Catch up on Hulu
• Paint my nails
• Do homework (maybe)
• Skype <3
• Do homework on skype
• Clean my desk
• Fold laundry
• Pack my backpack
• Play Catan
• Update my calandar
• Check my emails
• Write essays

So, as you can see, I'm quite busy during the nighttime hours, it's when I do my best work, clearly. How else would I be able to get a high score of 124/151 first generation pokemon on sporcle?!

Do You Have a Soul!?

So, in making that edit on the 'Tangled' post, I remembered a list I've been constructing in my head for awhile:

Krysti's How-To Guide for Determining If Someone Has a Soul

Basically it works like this. You (or someone you know) may be lacking a key piece/defining feature of their humanity. How can you tell? Well, someone might be lacking a soul if:

• They do not smile when shown an infant under the age of one. The likely hood of them not having a soul decreases proportionally with the age of the child (ex: not smiling at a 'tween' is acceptable, they're annoying little - never mind, tangent)
• They kick and/or otherwise violently assult any of the following: dolphins, baby seals, puppies, bunnies, kittens.
• They do not like animated movies, specifically Disney movies produced during either the Disney Rennisance (Cinderella through Aladdin) or Disney post-Rennisance periods (Lion King through Tarzan).
• They walk by Girl Scouts selling cookies in the freakin' freezing cold (because January is cookie season!) and completely ignore them, not even a 'No thank you.'
• They are currently or have recently A. been released from Askaban or B. been in/gotten out of a relationship/one night stand with a Dementor
• They throw recyclables into trash cans with recycling bins right next to them ([insert long string of explatives here])
• They do not like those adoable sleeping puppy calendars

Please feel free to condole these people of their great loss and be supportive in their lifestyle choices (not just soullessness,  but ALL life choices people)

Don't Worry, I Didn't Forget You!!

Hello all, sorry for the long gaps between posts, life is pretty good, I'm not (very) mad at anything, hence the lack of rants. However, don't worry, I'm sure I'll find something soon (finals are next week after all- holy shit!) and as usual it would be my pleasure to distract you all with my accumulations of videos, pictures, and other nonsense to help you avoid your inevitable workload. So, here is my first of such posts, a collection of truly impressive musical holiday (and non) web sensations.








So, enjoy and let the holiday shopping frustration begin!! Wanna know what's on my list? Of course you do because you all want to go out shopping for me, right?!

• Lego Star Wars X-Wing Fighter (as previously discussed)
• Tea Tree mud mask (teehee I like scaring the freshman with my green face)
• Gold spray paint (to finish my newest project....;])
• A good GPA
• A new laptop bag (mine's busting at the seams)
• Snow on Christmas
• To go on epic quests over break and completely forget about school
• Never to pick up a Botany book again
• Black tights, maybe some colors if I get ballsy
• A Lady Gaga Monsterball 2011 calendar
• Saladworks gift cards, millions of them
• Clothes, obviously
• Warm, homemade Christmas cookies
• To shower without shoes for an entire month
• Play video games until my brain melts (or, in the case of Just Dance, until I can no longer move)
• "Inception" on DVD

That's all I can think of off the top of my head. But in order to get to these lovely gifts that I want to receive (and trust me, there are several I'm excited to give as well....) I need to get though one thing, or rather, five things that start with an F and rhyme with 'schminals'. Godspeed to you all, fellow scholars. And leave me topics to talk about cause I'm just about out. :(

Have $10.50 Burning a Hole in Your Pocket?

Here's an idea: GO SEE TANGLED!

This is legit the most adorable freaking movie. Disney's 50th animated film definitely lives up to the legacy of Walt. I laughed, I cried, I didn't regret spending the $15 to see it in 3D. Her hair was so stunningly wonderfully animated I wanted to cry and the sequences with her parents were so moving I legit did cry. Fabulous. Not to mention Pascal (the lizard) is the cutest sidekick since Meko <3

EDIT: If this doesn't make your eyes get all teary, you have no soul.

Baby All I Want for Christmas Is You

Turn on B101. Do you hear that?? That, my friends, is the sound of everyones "favorite time of the year" (or so everyone claims, but all I ever hear is whining, personally) once again overstepping its universal Black Friday boundaries once again. Is it really so hard for everyone to hold their ho-ho-hos until after Thanksgiving?!?

Oh well, consumerism at its finest, don't tell me you haven't gone shopping yet. I have, though all I've made little progress on anyone's gifts other than mine. However, I did get a bangin' pair of boots and a kick-ass new Star Wars poster. So I'm happy as a clam. But, I'm home for break, so I figured I'd share some quick shots of my day, spent scouring the county with a certain somebody to find a certain un-findable confectionery.

Move over Edward, they need more room for the Bellatrix/Snape lunchboxes ;D



THIS HAS BEEN ON MY CHRISTMAS LIST FOR THE LAST 4 YEARS!
They finally started making them again!



This was pretty freakin' sweet.

And thus, with my first trip(s) to Toys-R-Us in probably several years, the holiday season has begun. Wish lists are flying through Cyberspace, Ebay is working out all it's kinks, Target is stocking its shelves for black Friday, and the Turkey hasn't even become leftovers yet. Sad, sad, sad.

In other news, now that I'm home for the holiday I've started A. thinking of crafty gifts for everyone I know and B. crafting a new project for myself revolving around a few of my greatest loves, childhood, steampunk, and shooting helpless people with bits of high-velocity foam. Any idea what it might be!? HINT

Hopefully, updates to come soon, but right now I'm off to make CAKE BALLS with the family (idk, they're this dessert-thing my mom has a recipe for, apparently they're good. Check your sexual innuendos at the door kids.)

It's A Bird! It's A Plane! It's...

What's that sound, you ask!? Why, it's the sound of one of the items getting crossed off my bucket list!!

Oh yes, I'm sure you've all forgotten by now all the wondrous and completely mundane goals I set for myself somewhere back in the day on this very blog. But I have not! In fact, just this weekend I crossed off item #2! A secret lifelong dream of mine:

perform onstage

Ladies and gentlemen, I will be signing autographs after this posting... ;) haha but in all seriousness it was actually not very big of a deal at all, I was just in the ensemble - don't get crazy. But I feel absolutely fantastic and am so glad I grew a pair and got involved with such a great experience. All the cast was utterly wonderful and fucking talented as shit. Every single one of them, and I'm so glad I got the opportunity to perform with them.

Look out Broadway here I come!

Story Writing Exercises?

So, I figure I should use this blog to somewhat increase my writing skills, right? Why write if not for thine self and the betterment of thine writing? So I stumbled upon these writing exercises and shall now write non-edited stream of consciousness responses to them here and now (maybe not all six since it's 2am and I have very limited brain function, but I'll try, for you dear readers).

Write the first 250 words of a short story, but write them in ONE SENTENCE. Make sure that the sentence is grammatically correct and punctuated correctly. This exercise is intended to increase your powers in sentence writing. (It's only 207, so sue me)
I have always loved railroad tracks, the seemingly endless way they run out to the horizon, the wonder and excitement that lays at their end, the strange and interesting people along the way - the idea of endless days and nights of hundreds of people with hundreds of ideas and thoughts and lives all linked together everyday unknowingly by the unforgiving parallel bars of their local train system; though they'll never know anything of one another except what they can gather from what's been left behind, a half-completed crossword puzzle, a forgotten novella, a disregarded short story fragment written on a napkin (you never know where that might lead) the only clues you have, the only tiny glimpses to the lives that are happening in perfect sync - at least for the duration of the journey - with yours, though they may not be coming from the same place or headed to your stop, their life story, for these few precious moments, is in perfect and complete harmony with your own; where are they going in such a hurry, do they have loved ones there, have they been there before, what awaits them at the end of the line, and what, for that matter awaits you.

Write a dramatic scene between two people in which each has a secret and neither of them reveals the secret to the other OR TO THE READER.
"Oh jesus LeAnne, not another glass of wine." Not again, not tonight, Mitch facepalms as the attractive brunette across from him signals to the nearest server. He nonchalantly checks the bills in his wallet, thumbing the ones.
"Bullshit Mitchel. Here, have one yourself." She fiddles in purse for a tip for the waiter and pauses before handing Mitchel the glass. Running her finger gently around the glass rim she snaps the tiny vial in her purse shut. "Maybe it'll loosen you up." Mitch squirms in the chair.
"You know I hate red wine. You're drawing too much attention to us dear, can't we just lie low tonight? You always make such a scene." His phone beeps its familiar text tone and both jump. Mitch glances into his lap and then jerks his head up to scan the restaurant; nothing unusual.
"God, you're such a schitz." LeAnne  rolls her eyes and applies a fresh coat of cherry red lipstick in her compact. Mitch hears a faint clink of metal on metal as she returns it to her purse. He avoids her eyes and instead considered the picturesque street view out the window over her shoulder. "If you'll excuse me, I need to power mah nose deary." Her six inch stiletto heels clack smartly on the Italian tile as she crosses the dining room, narrowly avoiding a collision with a tray-laden waiter. She snatches the falling cheese-grater from his tray and flips it back without blinking.
"Goddamn it." Mitch whispers, completely oblivious of the actions of his guest. His cell rattles again and he types back a rapid response. He makes eye contact with a rather large and mustached man two tables over who shakes his jowls confidently before going back to his herb crusted salmon. A fellow diner brushes against Mitch from behind and he feels the hairs on his neck come to rapt attention. 
"Watch yourself Mitchel. He's not happy." A phrase, so quiet only he can hear it, uttered in his ear, and then nothing. He dares not spin, nor react. They know. They all know. They're here. He's here. Mitch allows himself a brief look up over his salad. The waiters seem to be avoiding his gaze. The busboys snicker. Do they know?
"Ugh, a place like this, you'd think they'd spring for nicer johns." LeAnne rejoins him, Her short red dress riding up as she returns to her seat. "You've barely touched your wine Mitchel. Lighten up..." She takes note of the beads of sweat on his forehead, the tiny tremors of his wrists. Always a worry wart ol' Mitch. Maybe this time for good reason. She winks at the passing waitress, a tall and slender blonde woman and nods, so tiny that Mitch cannot see. Suddenly a crash from the kitchens, a commotion from the back. Heads turn, necks crane. From the front window, the sound of breaking glass. Before the patrons know what has happened, a scream. The blonde waitress is standing over LeAnne and Mitch's table, the pair of them lie dead on the floor, two neat gunshots to their temples. LeAnne's purse has been upended on the restaurant floor, a Colt .45, and glass vial lay beside her body. Clutched in Mitch's hand, partially obscuring a bright distinctive tattoo, a switchblade rests against his wrist, poised and ready.


Write a narrative descriptive passage in a vernacular other than your own. Listen to the way people speak in a bar, restaurant, barber shop, or some other public place where folks who speak differently ("He has an accent!") from you, and try to capture that linguistic flavor on the page.
"Oy! Ye there! First yers! Over 'ere!" Bloody scamps ne'er know where they be goin'. That's why you were there, yer job was to show the little first years 'ow things work about theses parts. Lantern high you weave through the crowds to the little blighters, 'uddled in the very back 'o the crowd, shakin' like leaves on that ther' Whompin' Willow. "First yers! This way!" Ye wave at 'em and they're all just too darn scared to move but a muscle. Catchin' a glimpse of red in the crown, ye break into a grin. "Ye be a Weasley, ain't yer?" Little scrap of a mite, he be. But 'es got 'is father's uncanny hair and 'is mother's face. "Ron and 'ermione's boy I take?" 'e nods. "Ar, it be mighty nice to see a redhead in these 'alls again..."
Oh cut me a break, it's 3am. I enjoyed myself. Hope you did too. Welcome to a brief snippet of my brain....

My 'A-ha' Moment

So, I had an a-ha moment last night (and no, not like a 'Take On Me' moment - although that video is epic!). I figured out why I blog. It was amazing. It just hit me as I was bawling down in the basement.

I blog because I hate other people seeing me upset. I hate unloading my shit on people who clearly have better things to do. I don't like bothering people with my issues, especially because half the things that really upset me are stupid and not worth being upset over. And then the fact that I have no one to talk to because I don't want to bother anyone upsets me more. But really, that's my big thing, I don't like people seeing me a wreck. Like, I try to have as few people as possible see/hear me cry (do those who've put up with me, your medals are in the mail...) So, my solution? Sit behind a keyboard where no one can see me and bitch about things that bother me. That way, no one is forced to deal with my problems, but I get the therapeutic value of telling someone about what annoys me. Plus. I don't have to go into specifics, name names, or get really detailed about anything, and if you don't care about what I'm writing about, you can stop. It's perfect. I get to talk and no one has to listen.

Well, that and I love to write and I love to talk (primarily about myself) but also about my opinions on stupid things and share all the fun shit I find in my day-to-day life. It keeps me sane. So, here's a big thank you to you all out there wondering when I'm going to stop rambling and write something of substance (NEVER!!!)

Need A Laugh? Who Are You Kidding? That's Why You're Here...

This video will A. put a smile on your face and B. get hopelessly lodged in your frontal lobe for WEEKS.

Enjoy.

I Took 2 Psych Classes, So Naturally Now I Know It All

I was thinking today, as I braved the tundra that campus has become, about technology and it's utter destruction of human nature. Now let me first assert that I am 100% a slave to my keyboard as much as everyone else, I'm a product of a texting generation, and a new Microsoft version has come pretty much ever year I've lived, and am guilty of all I speak. I'm merely observing (aren't we all?). But I truly think that technology and electronic communication are breaking down the ways that we view people, and more importantly deal with them and their emotions. I think that all the typing rather than face-to-face communication is slowly ruining our ability to relate to others, understand their feelings and opinions, and sympathize. Because on a computer or cell phone we can simply ignore, refresh, or navigate away from anything we dislike or disagree with in a matter of nanoseconds we can't deal face-to-face with situations that we are uncomfortable with or don't like. Everything becomes awkward because we can't 'x-out' of a conversation in person like we can online. We can't hide behind user names and passwords, or plead a bad connection. As a result we forget how to deal with others in real life and have little patience with slow service or response time that other humans offer. We seek the instant gratification and lighting fast speed of the Internet, Skype, facebook, myspace, AIM, and email and have no time to wait for real-time reactions. We forget that witty remarks don't just fall from our lips as they do from our fingers. We forget in real life we can't just pull up another window and google the answer to a question to look smart. We forget that people get upset for reason that we can't understand but that they still need our understanding. We forget that, when dealing in people and not web pages, we need to face problems - both our own and the people around us's - even though it might not be the most ideal thing to think about at the time (I mean, really, when is a 'good time' to think about a problem anyway?). Tempers get short, fuses blow, relationships, friendships end because we've severely crippled our ability to communicate with other human beings. I feel like this lack of patience for others contributes to higher divorce rates overall and, on a smaller scale, just generally higher instances of petty drama. People can't see from other's point of a view and as a result just get frustrated and explosive about it, saying things they can't backspace and doing things that they can't just type 'jk lol' after. I know that I personally, don't understand why people do so much of the crap they do, but when it comes down to it, I think I'm okay at sympathising with peoples motivations and feelings although I don't exactly understand or even approve of them. We're all different and there are so many influences and factors in every little thing we do that it's impossible to completely understand everyone's reasoning for everything (because most times they themselves don't even know the full reason - hello subconscious!). I just feel like we're all pretty bad at understanding everyone else (excluding probably a very small group of the people you're closest too and know the most about) and the addition of electronic distance in 99% of our interactions with people isn't helping that fact any. Do I know the solution to this? No. Am I even right in my thinking? Probably not. But it's food for thought. Particularly if (and you probably are) in any sort of conflict/spat/awkward situation/strained relationship with anyone at this present time (you are SOOO lying if you say you're not). Just, try a little harder to relate to them before going and tweeting shit on them, okay? For my sanity's sake.

Live long and prosper.

Adventures In the Library

I love old books, like I love reading them, I love their intricate and fucking awesome old-school bindings and embossing, I love their smell, I love sitting in the stacks with them (calm down kids, that's all I'm doin in the stacks ;) ). And the great thing about the campus library is that they specialize in old books. As in, they haven't updated their material in several decades. Great for aesthetics, poor for research. But whatever. These are some gems I found in the Shakespeare section while doing research for a paper.

Fuck yeah, Questin' Shakespearean Style

lol

This is probably the most gorgeous old book I've ever held <3

;) Maybe I'll use this one next time I'm in the stacks. lol

I'll totes be back in library, back in the world of Shakespeare very much, very soon. So look forward to more selected titles soon.

Stall Talk

Once again, the fabulous musings of a generation on the toilet....



Some days the Art Building bathrooms express my feelings better that I ever could.





Damn it Ginny!



This is just a nice sentiment to pee to.



Basically, Dear Abby has struck the library, and is now answering questions on the backs of doors



How To Live With Zombies [a novella]

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, it's the time of year again, the time when every freshman clutches their marshmellows and quakes in their boots. When every girl wracks her wardrobe to find things that match with orange, and when no honors college kid is safe....oh yes, it's time for the

What the hell is that, you ask? Basically, it's a giant game of tag involving the Zombie Team and the Human Team, where each team's goal is to wipe out the other (Zombies by 'eating' all the humans, humans by outlasting the zombies). Because, as is common zombie-slayer knoweledge, a hungry zombie can only survive for 24 hours without human sustenance. The only defense we poor humans have is marshmallows. Throw one at an attacking zombie and they can't come after you for 10 minutes (so run like hell to a building, they're the only safe zones). So, needless to say, it's quite stressful maintaining your ripe, living human hide on a campus (or in my case a room full) of zombies who, to be quite honest, are usually must faster, sneakier and more strategic than I. However, I'm starting a new list in honor of the first day of Human/Zombie Season (depending on your team)

Innocent Bystanders Who Almost Were Viciously Pelted With Marshmallows

• Girl with yellow hat on (we wear orange bandannas to indicate status, I though she was playing!)
• Boy sprinting across quad
• Dashing Dan, who dashed in my direction and I forgot he wasn't playing
• Boy walking at brisk pace behind me
• Girl coming out of Diehm
• Everyone around the Psych building while I was trying to get to the thesis seminar
• My reflection in a window

I was also like to issue a semi-sincere (I mean, she is a zombie and therefore the enemy) public apology to Honey B, who ambushed me and got pelted in the throat (my aim is sooo much better than last year). Whoops. However, be it noted that the throat is a fairly efficient way to kill a zombie. Just sayin'. Alas, my friends are turning left and right and I now live with two zombies, and have class with at least one tonight. I fear my time with humanity is drawing to a close. Goodbye cruel world!! (Or maybe not?)

Complete And Utter Bullshit.

Complete and Utter Bullshit.
That is all.

Blast from the Past (Force from the Future?)

So, I've been meaning to post this for some time now, ever since I re-discovered it deep in the recesses of my 'Archives' folder. It's an essay I handed in my senior year of high school at the end of the year as a response to a prompt evaluating the class. Suffice to say that last semester, when Internet went down for a few hours, I rediscovered it, read it, and sent an apology email to my teacher for being so fucking saucy (which lead to him reading my blog. Dunno if he still does; if so HEY SUPPPPEEEE!!!). Please bear in mind before you delete this blog from your favorites bar (where it invariably sits of course) that this teacher and I had a relationship based entirely on mutual love for deep, scathing, sarcastic comments. Which I received just about as much as I gave. However, before I write an entire essay introducing the essay, here is my slightly edited, previously unpublished, 12th grade final English essay.

When I think back on this year in English I have nothing but fond memories. How could one not fall in love with all the rompin’ stompin’ he-man adventures that made-up the first semester of our year? How could ones hands go for a whole day without the devastating desire to copy down three blackboards worth of notes? And how could anyone continue their journey in life without ever viewing the acting wonder that is Gilbert Hyatt? The answer: it would be impossible, unthinkable even. Supe, I thank you for these wonderful experiences you have bestowed upon us, among other things, for without them, I would be living an insufficient life, ignorant of the Shakespearean sonnet form and the dangers of an overactive Id. But, in all seriousness Supe, as much as I bitch and moan, I actually enjoyed this year. There, I said something nice. Don’t get too used to it…


[A. and B. have been omitted due to boring content]

C. Writing: Okay, so here’s where I get to complain. Last year we practically did an essay a day; creative, persuasive, open-ended, everything. This year the only writing we did was for blue books and huge research papers. Nothing creative. I can’t be stifled like that Supe! I’m an informal, creative writer; formality makes me panic-y. I would, however, like to thank you for the blue books you gave because though I may piss and moan at the time about how unfairly difficult your blue books are as compared to the other classes (they get the question in advance and get to use the book during the test…pssh) but I really and honestly think that we were infinitely more prepared than they were, from what I can gather from talking to people in the other classes. [boring content here has been removed]
D. Film: How can I not rave about everyone’s favorite host, Gilbert Hyatt?! His knowledge and pronunciation rocked my view of the Odyssey! How were we all to know that we’d been pronouncing the rompin’-stompin’-he-man’s name wrong for so long?! Other than that, the Troy movie with the decrepit Helen was a visual masterpiece, I mean, clearly that mug would have launched a thousand ships, if not more! I also really liked Harold and Maude, it was really unusual and not really my usual movie choice, but I enjoyed it. I still vote, however, that we should watch the Brad Pitt and Orlando Bloom version of Troy when we’re doing the Odyssey; think about it…


E. Grammar Rules: How do I love thee oh grammar, let me count the ways…oh wait, there are none. Thanks for keeping that to a minimum this year, I know how much you love your periods, pronouns, and gerunds.


[F. and G. were also boring. Adios F. and G.]
H. Supe Shtick: I can honestly say I am not really sure what this is, so I don’t know the grounds for its evaluation. I think this is just you fishing around for complements. Nice try, but no.


I. Literary Approach: Three words: BOOK ON TAPE! Listening to the tapes, in addition to being moderately enjoyable, also made sure we read the book and it made a considerable difference for works like Hamlet and Virginia Woolf. [more omitted content here lol]
J. AP Exam: Really, I wasn’t impressed. I almost all the multiple choice questions were fairly simple, easier than what we did in class, as were the essays. Of course, I blanked completely on all literary works with any symbolism, but I also had the chance to apply a lot of themes and concepts that we learned this year (ex: escape from prelapsarian bliss).
K. Term Paper Masterpiece: Oh, what a hellish assignment. I’m leaving and you probably won’t read this until I’m long gone, so I’m saying it. I hated that project! It was long and difficult and annoying. I hated my primary fiction book and it was hard as hell to find sources of criticism for them. And even when I did find criticism I didn’t know how to apply it. All around nightmare. I do, however, wish to thank you for letting me do fiction to fiction, because I loved Slaughterhouse Five and am glad I got a chance to read it.


L. Anything else: Supe, as sarcastic and insulting as this note may sound, I would honestly like to tell you – no sarcasm – that I enjoyed your class (though you’ll never get me to admit it again, let alone in public and out loud). From talking to kids in other AP 12 classes I feel like we did way more work at a better pace and covered everything important in a timely manner and in time for the AP test. I feel like your class was (usually) the right balance of work and joking around (not that there isn’t room for improvement in that ratio…specifically towards the joking around side). But, like I said, I bitched and moaned and threw sarcastic comments at you all year, but I also learned and ‘grew as a writer’ (I couldn’t think of a less cliche way to phrase that) and I thank you for both years of English. They were…an experience…to say the least. I won’t say adios, ‘cause I might be back here eventually, student teaching (if you’ll even take another student teacher after Blitzkrieg Bop turned out to be a flop…).

God I was such a little fucking shit as a student in this class. Haha, looking back although a huge a pain in the ass and way more difficult that Western Lit ever could hope to be, this was a solid class - AP 12. But honestly, hindsight is 20/20. And if, in fact, Supe is still lurking on this page, I still mean every word on this page. Compliments too...

Thought you'd all enjoy a little pre-blog writing. I've really 'grown as a writer' right? Bahah bullshit I could have cranked that out yesterday, I still am a smart-ass, stream of consiousness, hot-mess when it comes to informal writing....oh well, some things never change.

.

Do what makes you happy.

Be with the people who make you smile

Laugh as much as you breathe.

Love as long as you life.

And fuck everything else.

Honestly, that's about all I've got left in me to pass to on you all. P&B.

The Shit I Deal With

So, I'm in charge of a parade float in our community's parade (I'm being ambiguous to avoid naming-names) but basically its semi-mandatory for freshman and none of them signed up so a fairly firm email went out by powers higher than myself telling them to email me to sign up. And let me tell you, the sauce those frosh have in 'em could season all the pasta in UD. Allow me to demonstrate. (Please note: these are the first emails I am getting from them and do not know any of them)

Miss Krysti [my last name, but removed for my privacys sake],

I am contacting you because I would like to sign up to participate in the parade, seeing as it is
mandatory. I have no boots, cowboy hat, nor bandanna.

Yes, 'Miss.' Of course I signed my reply that way. And addressed him/her with Mister/Miss as well. For formalities sake. Of course.

Kristi,

I do not have a cowboy hat or bandana for the parade on Saturday.

Not like my names at the top and bottom of every email I send.

Hi there,

I guess i'm supposed to sign up for the parade. i don't have a cowboy hat. So i guess i'll need that.

I guess so.

Hi,

I'm [insert name], and I'll participate in the parade on Saturday morning.
I have all the necessary apparel except for a cowboy hat.
[insert higher power] emailed everyone and made it sound like this experience was quite mandatory, so I'm 'signing up'.

Note the superfluous quotations marks?

This is gonna be one fun-ass parade. (lol, this makes me laugh because I can't help but thinking of Esmeralda's move-the-dash-over-one trick....)

I Hate People Who

• walk slow
• spell my name incorrectly on emails that I sign my name on
• mix up there/their/they're
• look down on me for swearing
• push religion down others throats
• push politics down others throats
• proclaim they've heard every song on the radio months before it 'got big'
• aren't organized
• don't answer emails
• never empty their voicemail boxes so I can't leave messages
• don't listen to my messages
• misuse your/you're
• are bros
• use shorthand for words that's the same length as the word itself
• ignore me
• don't recycle, especially if the trash can and recycling bin are next to each other
• don't open the shutters when its light outside
• wear Uggs. with anything
• don't hate anyone (*cough* roommate *cough*)
• incompetent people
• smart people who act like idiots
• stupid people who act smart
• are sluts
• leave food in the sink and hair in the shower
• are douchbags
• who can't make decisions
• are forgetful
• people who haven't watched 'Star Wars'
• smoke cigarettes!!!!!!!!!
• cause drama
• put their contacts in in front of me
• sit next to you when there are other open seats
• don't post facebook statuses!!
• sit in front of me in the movies so I can't put my feet up
• leave their walls black (spice it up a bit!!)
• don't dress up and get hype for midnight movies and Halloween
• leave public spaces a mess
• don't hold doors
• frown on me for watching cartoons
• don't know Disney movies
• can't cut straight with scissors
• don't empty trash cans when they're full

Just For Shiggles

So, just because it's worthy, and because it has its very own embed-thing just for blogs:

everyone should shoot over to threadless and put a little love in the checkbox to vote for a fabulous shirt design by a trendy new designer, who is deserving of some blog-airtime.

Score this design: "Sapientias," to help it get printed on Threadless!

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Now, all you need to do is click that big ol' 5!

In Honor Of My Newly Rediscovered Love of Art

So, as I discussed last night, art and I are back in love, and going stronger than ever. We just spent too much time together and needed a bit of a break. As with any healthy relationship. But we've found each other once more, and in honor of that, an art posting.

These are all the art-related links I've been stockpiling for ages with the intent of doing an art post. So enjoy. People and their ideas are amazing. From the largest building-side mural to the tiniest bathroom stall doodle.

Pick some words that appeal to you and enjoy!!

Speed.                         Mind-Blowing.              Toilet Paper.

Tiny Worlds.              Tricksy.                Imperial Domination. (hint: click this, of course it appeals to you)

Gamer.                      Dedication. (Truly amazing)            RHOMBUS!


Really, you should consider looking at them all, but lets face it, you're busy people. Looking to procrastinate, which explains your being here. And lets be honest, at least you're getting some form of culture here. As opposed to say...sporcle (talk about addictions!! if you've never been, DON'T GO YOU WILL NEVER LEAVE!) So enjoy these links. I haven't been dumping any lately.I figure the poor guy hasn't been getting any from Zelda so its the least I can do (and no, these terrible Zelda puns will never end. Ever. Grab your ocarina and get used to it).

Peace out cub scouts!

You Don't Know What You've Got Until It's Gone

Damn it, it makes me mad how true that sentiment is. Like, sometimes there are just things you don't want to miss, and you don't want to think about how great they were. You just want to let things go and let bygones be bygones, ya know? Take tonight, for example. The art building and I have become quite intimately acquainted this weekend, spending long hours together, late at night....it's like I'm having an affair. And tonight, after a particularly quick and messy rendezvous (yes, I'm going there. You know you like it ;]) I left, feeling quite happy and actually regretting that this was probably my last studio class. Last semester, studios were the death of me- not that I love them this semester- but now there's always fun people in the print studio, and people's Pandora's are always playing music I love, and they're so much more light and fun than they ever were. People are always around to offer critiques or swap techniques with, compare music, or give opinions on professors or classes. Just in the past weekend alone I've met and chatted with so many others - slaves to the art department (I would say kindred spirits, but we've sold our souls to the department already) and I'm actually enjoying the time I'm spending working on my prints. And I sketch all the time now! I never kept a sketchbook until I left the major. How fucked up is that!? Of course my secret, latent love of art would emerge once I've filled out the final papers for a one way ticket to Quitsville, USA (apparently whose population is on the rise...). *Sigh* Not that I regret or don't treasure my re-surfacing love of art. In fact, that's the reason I switched majors. If I'm drawing/painting/sculpting/printing it's because I want to. And I've found something that's inspired me to do so. Not because I need to, have been assigned to, or told to. I hate time lines, I hate deadlines, I hate being rushed when I'm drawing. If I'm excited about something I'll do it. If not, I'll procrastinate like it's my job. So I guess I'm glad for my rediscovery. Because for a while, quite honestly, I forgot why I was doing it. I forgot why I would ever draw if not being graded. Why create for no one? When in all honesty, the best type of creation is one done for yourself. That you do whenever you want, show to whoever you want, and do whatever you want with. It's a glorious feeling.

So maybe that's it then, maybe to regain that feeling of love and affection you once had for something, you've got to get away from it. Maybe that god-awful feeling of missing things, or people, is what causes us to come running back to give them a giant bear hug. And you know what? If it's worth it to you, whatever that something is that you let go will welcome you back with open arms. Trust me, I've seen it happen.

Babe, this is for you. You know who you are <3

What The Hell Is She Talking About?!

So, I have a lot of style obsessions, many of which are pretty hardcore nerdy and tricky explain to normal people with normal interest ranges. So I figure I'll throw a little counterculture into your otherwise very sane and normal lives. If you know me, have gone to a Comic Con with me, have ever talked to me or watch Project Runway with me you might recognise some of these things...

Krysti's Current Style Obsessions:

(there are really only two...but I'll make it seem like a list)



Pin-Up: A pin-up girl, also known as a pin-up model, is a model whose mass-produced pictures see wide appeal as popular culture. Pin-ups are intended for informal display. Pin-up girls may be glamor models, fashion models, and actresses. The term pin-up may also refer to drawings, paintings, and other illustrations done in emulation of these photos (see the list of pinup artists). The term was first attested to in English in 1941;however, the practice is documented back at least to the 1890s. Many pin-ups were photographs of celebrities who were considered sex symbols. One of the most popular early pin-up girls was Betty Grable. Her poster was ubiquitous in the lockers of G.I.'s during World War II. Other pin-ups were artwork, often depicting idealized versions of what some thought a particularly beautiful or attractive woman should look like. (Wikipedia0
I think what I love most about the pinup style is that pinup models weren't like today's models in one major way; CURVES. Pinup girls were made of something other than carrot sticks and spearmint gum, yet they still flaunted what their mama's gave'em and adorned the lockers of GI's everywhere. I also absolutely ADORE the stereotypical Pin Up color scheme: red, black, and white. Polka dots. High waists and even higher hemlines. A-dorable. All I need is a pair of cute red flats to complete my ever-growing red accessories collection (hair bow, necklace, belt, sunglasses, purse....)



Recognise this Super Heroine?

Steampunk: A fan made subculture that emphasises the Neo-Victorian aesthetic. A world of steam engines, clockworks, polished brass and unpolished leather. Signature piece - goggles (DeviantArt) 
UGH!! This is and has been for so long my favorite style EVER. And I always struggle to explain this to people who don't know what I'm talking about. This style is actually the reason for this posting, I found a pretty solid definition of the style and needed to share it with the world. Or, at least the world of people most likely to interact with me. Because it's truly a beautiful thing, in a super-nerdy, geeks-created-this-just-to-dress-up sort of way. But for real. Google image this and you get absolutely insane results. It's everything I love about Victorian styling plus gears (which I freaking love. Why? No idea. Aesthetically they just appeal to me.) Honestly, anything you can think of has been steampunked, Star Wars, Superheros, guitars, etc.

The Bitches On Top and How They Got There

I love you all, sorry I never write anymore!! Keeping a blog is tricky if you're out of practice!! But hopefully this makes up for it at least a little. If not, please direct your angry comments to the comment box. Particularly since this post might be a temper-raiser. <3

So, my dear Bosom Buddy (BB) and I were discussing life the universe and everything as we strolled through a particularly shady area of Long Island the other night (OMG another Con, more about that later). And we were talking about how, both of us being fairly strong-willed, saucy kids, we get assumed to be bitches pretty often (there is much truth to this statement, but its validity is not the point). And we decided that for girls (at least in terms of interacting with guys) there's not much middle ground. You're either a bitch, if you throw their insults, snide comments, and sexual innuendos right back at them, or you're a ditz if you sit there and take all their crap while giggling and slapping at their shoulders. I mean, what's a girl to do? The girls who sit there and just giggle or swat at the offending male kind of make me sick, Jesus Christ women died for your rights and here you are, less gumption and personality than a bowl of peanuts. Which really leaves one alternative (well two, but I don't really know how many Amazonian colonies there are left in the world, let alone how to find one...) which is to saucy right back and be labeled a condescending jerk. The more BB and I thought about it, the more we fine-tuned our theory. I mean, think about it. The back-sassing bitches go on to fly solo, powering through the workforce, becoming CEOs and successful single business women until after they've established themselves maybe (just maybe) they'll start looking for someone who'll put up with them. And the ditzes go on to flirt and shoulder-smack their way into the heart of some guy (oh, don't worry, we have a theory on the double-standard of men too...) where they will proceed to raise a family and work a little here and there and have a white picket fence etc. Granted these are kind of extreme, but I think that every woman you'll ever meet will be one of these two types. Yes, there are successful ditz and yes, there are happily married, homemaking bitches, but for the most part I feel like our theory holds some water. Particularly now that women's rights are a big deal again. Equal pay for equal work, that sort of thing. Which is not only fantastic, but a long time coming. However, at the same time, you've got to wonder what that's doing to women. We're taking the super-stereotypical roles of both sexes (men: breadwinners, workers; women: homemakers, caretakers) and redistributing them so that now a woman can be a bread winning, care taking, homemaking, worker. Which leaves some men who take on the other side willingly and take care of kids and be homemakers, but the vast majority do not. Leaving the bitches to do all the work and tend to be a bit saucy about it. In terms of men (when dealing with women) there are basically the majority (douchbags) and the semi-minority (nice guys). Basically, all the nice guys spend their days having assumptions being made about them and being called names by their homophobic counterparts. Which then drives all the nice guys who may have self-confidence issues (which is many of them, seeing as they still have a soul and a great deal of humanity in them, causing them to feel emotional pain unlike their fellows) either into seclusion for fear of people's assumptions or to become more like douchbags to fit in. Leaving a very small population of human-fearing nice guys and a very large population of d-bags in the dating pool. Meaning that all the ditzes usually end up with the d-bags while the bitches wait around long enough to find and drag a nice guy out of his human-fearing corner. Again, both these are extremes, but I feel like most girls and guys (in my age gap) fit somewhere along the spectrum. Humanity's awesome, right!?

You know what's funny, this theory was constructed mere days after I decided not to judge people because judging only leads to drama and if there's one thing I am literally panic-attack afraid of (other than eyes, being absent, 3D, and death) it's drama. Let it be known to all those three people who are reading this: DO WHATEVER THE HELL YOU WANT (as long as you're not hurting yourself or others) I DON'T CARE (I mean, I do care, and some things I'd rather you not do, but who am I to tell you what's right or wrong?? That's what that large concentration of nerve endings between your ears is for.)

Heavy stuff, someone has to have a reaction, LEAVE ME COMMENTS!! Hate-mail, fan-mail, drug-induced wonderings, concerns for my sanity, therapists' calling cards, WHATEVER!

A Tale of Two Biddies

Sorry to leave you hanging guys and dolls, my weeks have been quite consumed lately, between prepping for Halloween (I know, I'm super late!), showcase rehearsal, Glee, the occasional Bio Club, and Biddie watching, I've been all over the place! But don't think I haven't been missin' ya. So, to the point. First off, let me begin (as Dr. Maxwell taught us) by the defining of terms, namely:

Biddie (bid-eeee) noun: a biddie, while difficult to define accurately while avoiding confusion, is a college age female who falls under some, most, or all of these descriptions.
-often short/petite
-gullible, easily tricked
-wears spandex pants, a miniskirt barely covering the vag, or anything from American Apparel
-footwear consists of Uggs, boots with fur on them, heels, or some combination of the three
-enjoys Biddie Songs (Low by Flo Rida ft. T-pain, Shake That by Eminem ft. Nate Dogg, etc)
-at least 80% of their facebook pictures would render them unemployable if leaked
-does not remember the last weekend that did not involve a hangover
-dreams of being a woman from Desperate Housewives
-Smirnoff Ice = ideal pregame
-"so what's your major?" is absolutely a legit pickup line
-wakes up in weird places
-the purpose of the bathroom/kitchen sink is obviously as a courtesy for you when you get sick

So now that you've got that, I may begin.

The freshman who live in my hall are biddies. That's what I concluded within the first week of seeing their weekend outfits and hearing them tell each other about their weekend escapades and listen to them complain about how they're so done with wearing anything but sweatpants to college. Biddies, the lot of them. Dirty ones too. If our cleaning ladies from last year were here lets just say they would have stopped cleaning our bathroom weeks ago (they're not our maids ya know!) Anyway, I basically just relentlessly make fun of said biddies. However, I have to work in close proximity with them for something and had to hold a meeting with them yesterday. So, since Karma and I have an agreement (I try and be a nice person, she sometimes tries a little less hard when ruining my life) I decided to go into this meeting with an open mind, judgement-free, since all my judging had been done from afar. Fine. I go down to this meeting and ask for suggestions for our community parade float (this years theme is 'Wild Wild West' - laaaaaame! but that's another story). First suggestion? 'Wild Wild West Coast.' Like, Katy Perry style.

Really?

Let it be known that sometimes first impressions are much more accurate than one would think. But okay, only one comment, it could be a coincidence right? Don't be too hasty Krysti, you say. Well that, my blog-reading friends (if there are any of you left after my hiatus) is where you are wrong. Naught but a few seconds later: "Are there any booooys doing this float?"

Goddamn it kids.

Basically, my faith in the incoming freshman- who I made an attempt to give a second, actual chance to. Even karma can't argue, I did my research this time.

God, I'm so tired and have nothing to say, I just really wanted to use that blog title. Sorry guys, I'll give you some things to think about in the meantime.......

All men should read this.

People who are interesting might like this.

People who feel guilty about stealing music might appreciate this.

And some recent pictures from a weekend jaunt to the Renn Faire....

Chivalry is not dead, in fact it's quite alive and lookin' fiiiiine.





What do you call a woman with a Turkey Leg?



Wolverine makes a guest appearance (coolest claw-thing EVER)



Don't worry, they're non-alcoholic. It's not Tuesday just yet...