Can't Bring Me Down, Suckas

"Early" registration for spring classes is currently underway. It's staggered, so that important people like football players and professors' kids get to register first, seniors second, juniors third, etc, etc.

My registration time was scheduled to be opened up at 10:40 this morning. Problem with that was I have a 10:30 class. That I could not skip today. And three of my classes were close to being full, so I was going to end up with courses like "Nudity in Film". Except I wouldn't, because all the football players probably filled that one up already.

Anyway. You can see my dilemma. So...options. Trust someone to register for me? Maybe. Remember that the classroom I'm in is one of the special ones that is wired for internet? Heh. Indeed.

I personally took the last spot in 3 classes when I registered from the comfort of my lecture at 10:40. Yay, wireless notebooks. Nyah, nyah, nyah, nyah.

All my courses next semester are on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday. And only one of them is on Wednesday. Nyah, nyah, nyah, nyah. Four day weekends, bitches.

Letter

Dear Neighbor,

What a fun idea, having a karaoke party at 10:30 PM on a Tuesday in an apartment building with thin walls.

Love,
Me

P.S. You suck and I hate you.
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Paper's half-done.

Predictions

I don't think I predicted my score on my most recent exam...other than walking out of class, running into a guy I know, and saying, "I just failed an exam. How are you?"

As it turns out, I didn't fail. I got a B. Three of my classmates did fail, so it sucks to be them. Even if you take the curve out of the equation, I scored a "C". Very strange. Yay for partial credit on proofs that I didn't get the final answer on. Double-yay for never needing to know this crap again after December 12 at 6:30 p.m.
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I will make a prediction on the paper I need to write by 3:30 tomorrow: it will be the biggest 5-6 page* piece of crap I have ever concocted in my college career.

None of the topics we were given are very appealing, and I am going for the easiest one to b.s. on.

I better get to it.

* Let's be honest here. It will barely be 5 pages.

Inappropriate Small Talk

Twice in the last week I've had to visit a health care professional's office. And twice in the last week I have been subjected to fairly inappropriate conversations with the employees.

The first time involved gay men and small rodents, and we'll leave it at that.

Today involved a 20-something young man telling me he has no sympathy for overweight smokers who develop heart trouble. Clearly they deserve what they get. Even if that is true, why are you telling ME about other patients and their problems?!
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People you don't want to know you well enough to be able to greet you by name on the street:

* Neurologists (this one is who gave me the idea for this list)
* Proctologists
* Warden of the nearest prison
* School principals (your own or your child's)
* Journalists

Can you think of any others?

Encouraging Procrastination

Don't you love it when you have two big papers due the next day, and you put off doing them for like a week, and you even put off starting them until like 3:00 because you're too busy watching Garden State, and then you spend like 2 hours whittling your overflowing feedreader down to managable proportions, and then you finally write the first paper in record time because you don't have time to waste (plus it's on a fairly easy topic like the mistreatment of Jews in non-Spanish medieval Europe), and then you pull out the description for the second paper, and you notice it says it's not due until Wednesday? Of course you do. And then you call up your boytoy to come over and watch Dodgeball or something. And then you blog about it while waiting for him.
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Speaking of The Boy, per request, a brief description: dental student, practicing Jew, socially liberal, fiscally conservative, has already bought me flowers, drives a Chevy (approved by GM dads the world over, like, say, mine), knows who Dale Earnhardt was, Yankees fan (everyone has their flaws), taller than me, muscular build, no kids, no ex-wives, no current wives, no psychotic ex-girlfriends leaving nasty messages on my voicemail (yes, I've had that before--more than once), doesn't mind slightly psychotic current girlfriends, and he likes (or tolerates) going to museums.

You'll have to let me know if you approve.

I Ain't Messing With No Broke...People

Who is going to turn down a free trip to Manhattan during the Christmas season? A fool, that's who, and mama didn't raise no fool.

I've already done the Rockefeller tree and all that kind of stuff, but it's an experience anybody should be willing to repeat.

Lesson: Christmastime in NYC is an effective inducement to meet The Parents.

Hmm...

The Land of Romantic Night

You one half of a couple loving in the Land of the
Romantic Night. You truly are the hopeless
romantic. You live for soft kisses on the lips
and tender hugs. When you fall in love you fall
hard. You are completely devoted to your
partner and would never hurt them on purpose.
You give yourself entirely to your lover and
would do anything for them. However this does
leave you open to hurt, so be careful in your
passionate world.


What is the mystical land of your birth? {13 results with gorgeous anime pics}
brought to you by Quizilla

Not on purpose until they hurt me first, anyway...

Like Reading Isn't Fun Enough

My brain has decided to malfunction, making my eyesight malfunction. It's not that big a deal, except when I'm looking at something up close--like, say, a book. Which wouldn't be that big a deal if I wasn't, say, going to college and expected to read hundreds of pages a week.

It will be corrected, but not until after the semester ends. Yay, studying for finals!

/pity party

All Over Except the Leftovers

I'm back in my own home, with a Ziplock full of turkey and a Tupperware full of stuffing. Mom got a 21 pound turkey this year (for 7 people), so Dad wouldn't let me leave without taking some home. It kept for the 2-hour drive in my trunk, nicely refrigerated since it's about 19 degrees outside.

Had to come home tonight, because tomorrow I have to go to the store bright and early. No, not to shop with the other fools. To work. Yay. Hopefully it will be dead, because we're not having any sales. Everyone should be at the mall. We're hoping. Please, God, let them stay at the mall.
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Being a poor college student and all, I don't do a lot of retail therapy anymore. But sometimes it can't be helped. Whenever I break up with somebody, for example, I have to buy new clothes and/or makeup. In the last week or so I've bought all-new makeup, a new pair of boots, and some pretty blouses. Not because I broke up with The Boy, mind you, but because I unloaded some previous emotional baggage.

Two years ago (almost to the exact day, if memory serves), there was another boy. Let's just say my attachment lasted longer than his. But I finally got with the program, and now I can pretty safely say all attachment is severed. So I've spent the last week getting lots of compliments on my looks, which I am shallow enough to thoroughly enjoy.
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Victor: Gerard Butler.

Conversation

Nephew (wielding 4 markers strung together to make a "sword"): "I'm Opie Wan!"*

Niece: "I am your father."

Nephew: "You're not my father!"

* Some strange love-child of Alec Guiness and Ron Howard?

Earning My Keep

Since arriving at my parents' house last evening, I've been put to work.

First, I had to do the outline of a Santa Claus on a piece of plywood. Dad will cut it out tonight, and then I will get to paint it. (It will be added to their sleigh, reindeer, and elves in the front yard.)

Second, I have made a shadow box display for my Dad's hole-in-one golfball and scorecard from this summer. He saw one at the local golf store for $60, but decided I could make him one for Christmas. It's all done, except for mounting the card and sticking the ball in its spot...roughly 5 minutes of work left.

And thirdly, I've had to clean because they're having company this weekend. An aunt and uncle will be in town, so I've had to clean the guest bedroom a little bit. It's the room I'm using, so I guess I don't qualify as a guest worth cleaning for. ;-) (I'll be heading back home Thursday night, so it's not like I'm getting thrown out.)

Happy Thanksgiving, all.

Meet My Future Husband

I have decided. He will be mine.

Oh, yes. He will be mine.

Scottish accent, definite plus. If he was American, he probably wouldn't be half as attractive. Click to enlarge either one. Especially the first.

As Excited As a Lee-tle Girl

You'll have to excuse the light posting. I've been busy watching grown men pee their pants over getting to meet an actual real-life Big Ten college football player.

And then paying $28 for footballs for said football player to sign.

At least no one chased him down the driveway this time.

Now My Clothes Smell Like Smoke

Boo to bouncers who call me "ma'am" and don't even pretend to need to see my ID.

Yay to all the people who said I looked cute/pretty.

Boo to phones with one-button redial calling people from my purse.

Yay to boys giving me unsolicited free beverages.

Boo to bar stamps that won't wash off.

Yay to a wide variety of music--Big N' Rich to Poison to Aretha to Nine Inch Nails.

Boo to ungodly long days making me ready for bed by about...noon. But staying up until...what time is it?

Yay to $2 margaritas making me ready for bed by about...what time is it?

Frolicking Limited to Daylight Hours

With Thanksgiving break upon me and most fellow students out of town, four substantial papers due the week following break, and finals shortly thereafter, I had a plan.

It was a bold plan.

I would frolick nearly undisturbed throughout the library at will. All the books, all the stupid science journals--would be mine, all mine.

However.

With all the students being out of town, who will work at the library to allow my frolicking?

Hmm.

Shortened library hours during break.

Bah.

I Took Home Ec, I'll Have You Know

Some fool (who I can't link to because his blog is a defunct pile) is maligning my domestic skills. I have mad domestic skillz. I just don't use them a whole lot.

I can sew buttons. I just don't like to sew buttons. Especially when I already "fixed" two of the buttons I have to remove...because I'm not kidding when I tell you that buttons I sew on will never come off. Not without a lot of help from some scissors, a seam ripper, and maybe a knife.

Anywho, my new buttons are on my old coat, and they are shiny and evenly spaced and everything.

And as an aside, a spinster would spin the wool to make the fabric to make the coat. Where do you think the term comes from? From unmarried peasant ladies who had to make their living by spinning.

Oh, and btw...since someone asked...the lady in the banner is from an Old Maid deck of cards. She bears zero physical resemblance to me, thankyouverymuch.

It's So Fifties Housewife

I'm not big on sewing. If given the choice between replacing all the buttons on a coat and buying a new coat...it's a very difficult choice. However, I am a poor college student now, so off I went to buy buttons.

Why, you didn't ask? Because somehow (glancing in direction of roommate, because I don't remember slamming my coat in the closet door) one of the buttons on my heaviest* winter coat was squished into a taco-shaped disaster. And that won't do. It also has a felt-covered cap over the top, so it was broken. So I could run around with a misshapen piece of metal where my button should be, no button at all where my button should be, a completely mismatched button (because large, felt-covered buttons aren't as common as you might think), or I can replace all the buttons.

I did try to fix the button by flattening it back out and supergluing the top part back on, but since they were both bent, I couldn't get them to flatten out in the same shape. And the two parts only meet around the edge, so, yeah. It didn't work.

* Yes, I have several weight grades of winter coats. Doesn't everybody? And it's like 13 degrees out and windy, so the medium-grade winter coat wasn't cutting it on my way home tonight.

For My Next Trick

I shall write two papers in three hours. And hopefully have time left over to shower.

***UPDATE: Done in two hours. Now to the shower.

Mental Inventory

Coat's in the closet...gloves in the drawer...scarf? Hmm. Better look for that.

The weather guy described tomorrow as "blizzardy".

Joy.

By Request

A small, simple truth table can be seen here. The wedge basically translates to "or, unless"...making the third column header "p or q".

Google Image will show you many more. If you're into that sort of thing. Freak.

***UPDATE:

Here:

It's Not All Dancing on Library Tables

It's also going to assorted art student friends' shows. Luckily, they were all on the same night. Friday, to be exact. One friend had an installation piece on display in one building, and one friend (well, the gf of a friend anyway--she hates me) had several paintings on display at the art building.

I took my high school boyfriend with me, because my actual boyfriend was unavailable. And the hsbf overheard me talking about it, made some noises about wanting to go, so what the heck. I picked him up and everything to make it a proper date. LOL

The paintings display was a reception with food, so we did that one first. Very abstract, but nice. Then we walked to the other building to see the installation piece. It was curled ribbon filling a glass-enclosed space. Looked like a lot of work to me.

I dropped off the hsbf (and there was not a goodnight kiss, tyvm), then went home to make a bunch of truth tables. I've stopped railing on about how useless it is long enough to actually get the hang of it.

Sleep Used To Be A Friend Of Mine

Hmm. Just looked at my schedule for now through finals week.

I'm considering taking up "speed" of some sort. Worked for Meadow Soprano, with no real consequences...

Of course, drugs are expensive and I have no money. No-Doz it'll be, then.

Sucks To Be A Badger

Badger football player, that is. Nyah, nyah.
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There are thousands of people who are willing and able to take care of a child. They have lots of love to give, and are for whatever reason denied the pleasure of holding a newborn in their arms and taking it home.

Then there is my skank ex-sister-in-law, who has virtually abandoned her two children but is having another one. I hope that child will have a father and paternal grandparents willing and able to take care of him or her.

And doesn't the army have rules against fraternization? Not that I think that would discourage her. If anything, it would encourage her. She's been trying to get out since day one.
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Know what's nice? When you ask a smart, sciencey type what he's working on for his graduate thesis, and he actually tells you. He doesn't act like it's too far above your head to bother giving even the most basic explanation. That's nice.

It's So Obvious

You scored as Lara Croft. A thrill-seeking, slightly unscrupulous, tough-as-nails archaeologist, Lara Croft travels the world in search of ancient relics perhaps better left hidden. She packs two Colt .45s and has no fear of jumping off buildings, exploring creepy tombs, or taking on evil meglomaniacs bent on world domination. Lara Croft 92% Captain Jack Sparrow 79% James Bond, Agent 007 71% Indiana Jones 71% Maximus 67% The Terminator 50% Neo, the "One" 50% William Wallace 50% Batman, the Dark Knight 46% El Zorro 29% The Amazing Spider-Man 29% Which Action Hero Would You Be? v. 2.0 created with QuizFarm.com

As seen by both the boys at Id's Cage.

Mmmm, Cake

A German chocolate cake is currently baking and making the place smell very nice.

The trick will be not to eat any before I deliver it to my work in the morning. It's the boss's birthday and I'm just that nice.

Did you know the "German" part of the cake's name has nothing to do with Germany, and everything to do with the brand-name of chocolate used in the original recipe? Well, now you do.

Insomnia

I can't sleep, but my Christmas shopping is done.*

Well...for my family, anyway. I suppose I should consider presents for some of my friends. Hmm.

So what do y'all want for Christmas?

* Lets's try more unrelated sentences...

I have trouble keeping the straps of this camisole up, but I'm wearing pajama pants with cherries on them.

My roommate doesn't know how to do any housework, but this tea is delicious.

I thought I was alert enough to make this into a funny bit, but the wonderful thing about Tiggers is that Tiggers are wonderful things.

You try. I'm sure you'll do better.

My Stare of Death is Malfunctioning

For those of you eagerly anticipating the results of my exam, I think I did okay. I'm feeling mid-"B"ish.

Because the TA is a total tool, she doesn't let us leave after the exam (unlike my other two night class TAs, who are also smart enough to have a scheduled potty break on a nightly basis, btw. Instead of Ms. Tool's class where everybody makes their own potty break, so people are constantly coming and going. But I'm rambling now)...instead we have to take the exam, then wait around for the slow people to finish their exams, then sit through the TA's excruciatingly boring lecture. I do not exaggerate when I say she is completely unqualified and the worst teacher I've had in my entire life.

Plus she's an idiot in general. Tonight's lecture was about religion. Not a subject I claim to be an expert on, but I am a bit familiar. On the topic of "religious rites of passage", she could have mentioned Bat/Bar Mitzvahs, First Communion, or even some Native American rituals. Instead, for her example she described boot camp. American Armed Forces BOOT CAMP. Apparently the Pope is the new Commander in Chief, because that is the only way I can figure this is at all related to religion. She spent a good five minutes talking about boot camp, which I might forgive as being off topic if she had actually been to boot camp, but she hasn't. It was unrelated to anything.

Next week I will inquire as to what her doctoral thesis is on, because I am dying to know how this maroon is going to get a Ph.D. If she can get one, I can get one.

Panic Mode

Yikes. I am not ready for my exam this evening.

Mostly because I thought sleeping was a better use of my time than studying. Sleeping and dreaming about giving my bf a particular sexual act in a bathroom stall, then seeing myself in the mirror as we left and thinking, "Wow, I look like white trash." It was obviously some subconscious reaction to this story.

Which begs the question: is sex in a bathroom stall (kneeling on a filthy bathroom floor, btw) trashy?

You ponder that. I'll be studying.

Dig, Dig

Registration for spring semester classes is fast approaching. As I was perusing the course listings, I noticed one titled "Biblical Archaeology".

I figure a class like that will put me one step closer to being the next Indiana Jones.

Damn You, Anakin

Had to work unexpectedly today, since the manager who was scheduled was sick. Which means I did not do the studying I had planned for this afternoon. Which means I am definitely not ready for my exam tomorrow.

Now that I am at home and free to study, Star Wars III keeps beckoning from the DVD player.

So. If anyone needs me, I'll be at the library.

Suffering Fools

To answer a question...

I know not who is the greater fool;
Me for choosing to believe in you,
Or you for choosing to live without me.

-Anonymous

C'est la vie. Au revoir, mon ami.
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The Boy is in his hometown this weekend, which left me to the girls last night. A good time was had by all, if I remember it correctly.

Tonight I went out briefly after work, but came home early to start studying for my Monday exam. Yes, I am a bit of a geek, but there are people who spent their Saturday night staring at the TV...who made better use of their time?
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I'm a fan of the soup. Particularly if it has cheese or potatoes in it. And if the soup is in a giant soup mug and I have saltines to go with it? Well, I am nearly in heaven then.

The only thing better is Panera soup in the sourdough bread bowl. Oh my.

Average

Wednesday's exam results have been posted. I scored the mean for the class. My first "C" of the semester.

For a "C" I missed not only seeing Bon Jovi in concert...but also having dinner with the band. Why my "friends" tell me these things, I do not know.

Anyway. Time to buckle down.
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Went to the basketball game this evening, an exhibition against some Canadian university. We won. It was my first university sporting event of the year...I work football games, so haven't been able to attend those.
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I might be getting an interesting reassignment at work. My boss floated the idea to me this evening. It would involve working later hours, but would probably involve doing my homework while I get paid. If anything comes of it, I'll be surely unable to resist bragging about it in this space.

Kramer Was On To Something

Underwear direct from the dryer? Very nice.

Tests and Egyptian Deities

You'd think if you're studying human origins, a class for non-sciencey types, that it would be more important for you to identify traits of hominids and other primates (and compare them amongst each other), rather than be able to identify specific fossils (with their fun, sciencey names) and their location, when they were found, etc.

But you'd be wrong, apparently.

In other words, I have no idea how I did on the test tonight.
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The university has a system called "ISIS", which is a student information system. You can log in to see your transcripts, register for classes, change your address, etc.

The information system for the teachers is called "Osiris"...which I do not find funny at all. Not even a little.

Okay, maybe a little.

(Isis was the mother of life. Osiris was the god of the underworld and the dead.)

Public Decorum

A few weeks ago, I was walking behind a couple of white girls up to the library. They were apparently discussing a friend of theirs, and one girl said, "I'm not saying she's a gold-digger, but she ain't messing with no broke..."

At this point she became aware I was behind her, and looked horrified before finishing lamely with, "...people."

(For those of you unfamiliar with the work of one Kanye West, think about words that rhyme with "digger" to figure out what the last word should have been.)
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My 17-year-old boyfriend was at work again today, and followed me around the whole time. I didn't mind that so much until I was trying to check my e-mail and he sat right next to me to see what I was doing.

Oh, well. I'm not supposed to be using the computer for personal reasons anyway...

Recap

Last night was fun, if a little too crowded for my tastes. We stayed mostly downtown, going to a couple bars. We did end the night by going to one of his friend's houses for a party. It was mostly grad students, so at least I wasn't ten years older than everybody else.

Because of my job, I do tend to run into a lot of people I know when I am out and about. I can't go near campus without someone yelling for me and flagging me down...and I think I saw everybody I know last night. Now they've all gotten a good look at The Boy and can gossip at length about us at work.

Now enough of this frivolity. I must study for my Human Origins exam, which will be held Wednesday night. Which will be the same time that Bon Jovi is on the stage at Wells Fargo Arena in Des Moines, and I will be two hours away from them. I hope I can manage to read the exam questions through my tears.