I went shooting. I shot beer bottles with a 22 something and a cricket (?) and a pistol. My ears were basically bleeding because apparently you are supposed to wear protective ear gear. But I didn't know that!
Then I rode a horse. I'm not a horse person. They are big, much bigger then me. And its like you are supposed to tell them where to go and you're on their back, kicking them to go faster. All I'm saying is that if I was being ridden, I would just revolt one day and trample my rider. I would live my life as a free horse. So there is a trust issue for me. They will just get sick of people telling them what to do and it will be when I am clutching the rope trying not to fall when they do that. Because they can smell fear (or is that another animal?) Anyways, I tried to be a horse whisperer. By literally whispering to my horse. Sweet-nothings, complimenting her mane and her stride, telling her she can do whatever she wants, I won't be the boss of her. We aren't exactly friends but I also came out alive so don't go scoffing at my method.
Of course my grandmother and grandfather are excellent cooks. So is aunt jennifer and my three uncles. Oh cousins. Amusing and loud the weekend was full of memories being made and a perfectly perfect thanksgiving. And I'm thankful for that. Also the Cal bears won against ASU.
I know. It's been rough. But I've come back and decided to make a raging comeback...
So I started the week off with an embarrassing thing. It was my facebook status. Did you know that you can personalize a status so that certain people can't find it? Just found that out. Not that I really have anything to hide but it's terrible that I can't just let people know that I say hilariously embarrassing things every other day. The moral of the story is, if you have something slightly inappropriate to say, block your mother and grandmother. They are always ruining my slightly inappropriate status'.:
wore a CAL sweater to the gym today with red shorts. A guy commented on my disloyalty to Utah. I pointed out my shorts are red like utah colors, then said "and my bottom half is the most important part anyways". So please, somebody lock me up and throw away the key because I say the worst things unintentionally*
It wasn't said to be dirty. The point is, I had no idea what I was saying and the moment it came out of my lips I wanted to eat the words back up and then stuff them deep down and never say anything remotely similar again. But I'm flawed, my forehead is breaking out (it's like hello puberty this should have happened 5 years ago. I'm twenty!) and sometimes I scratch my nail polish off like a meth addict scratches themselves when then need more crack. (Are they the same drug? I've never known).
*disclaimer: The thought was not dirty. It was this very odd moment of maternal instinct. I'm not sure why it was the thought that popped into my head but the idea that the bottom area is in charge of making babies and therefore life was for some reason my first thought when I was talking about my shorts. I felt the need to point out to this male that I can carry babies and he can't.
Anyways, so all this weird stuff happened Monday and Tuesday. Kaulin was in the same building as a shooter and I sort of threw a hissy fit when I found out. Make no mistake, I'm the type of person that if anything had happened to him, I would hatch a very extensive "Count of Monte Cristo" like plot and seek out revenge. That shooter would have a knife in his throat after I have finished my plan. Sorry. I watch Dexter sometimes.
It got me thinking, life. It's crazy. So I thought of some oddly deep thoughts about life:
I am not only trusted with a human life, but it’s MY human life. It is arguably the most important human life of all and I am in charge of not killing it? How am I in charge of KEEPING MYSELF ALIVE? Can’t I appoint someone to do this for me? Also, because the topic of "how important the bottom half of me is" was vaguely in my mind I have to point out- I can’t believe I’m just allowed to walk around with these ovaries and a functioning uterus. Probably. Probably functioning. I mean one day, I will be in charge of making a baby. YIKES. Also, gross. Rest assured, this is a long time off.
To send off I thought I should let you all enjoy my lovely text messages from my gal pal Karamea (who is currently really into Korean soap operas) : Kara: "Korean insults are so great! They always talk about killing each other on these dramas haha" Me: "Whaa?? I do that all the time!!! My go to is "imma stab you in the neck with a steak knife' I like to think I could do it too" Kara: "Hahaha i need to incorporate that in my life!" Me: "I mean a guy won't exactly ask you for a second date sometimes... but that might be the point" Kara: "Hahaha yah they always say that to their bf or gfs.Oh yeah, this weekend my mum went to the jewelry shop to get her ring cleaned and in the meantime I tried on wedding rings hahaha" Me: "Oh man I always glance over in a mall or department store hoping ill find the perfect ring. But its like finding my perfect man. It's probably gonna take a while and a lot more effort.".... right after I sent that one I wrote: "Wow did I really just do that? I am so freakin good at metaphors i shock myself sometimes!" Kara: "Hahaha that is so brilliant. Come back to me!"
We laugh a lot. We then proceeded to talk about missions and moving to London and Korea. Oh also, best plan ever: Kara marries a Korean prince, I marry the eligible Prince of England and we get together every week and have fabulous parties and be fabulous princesses. It's our life goal right now. Gonna make it happen!
I'm not gonna pretend this week was any better then last week.
When life gives you lemons, make lemonade. I read that on a can of lemonade once. I think it applies to life.
So when faced with Halloween and no costume, I took a leaf out of Ron Swanson's book. I have now, one Halloween Costume. It's my costume. My Halloween Costume. No more brainstorming, getting cute, trying to find a non-slutty outfit. Designated Halloween Costume: Rosie the Riveter.
This is from last year. I didn't even bother taking pictures this year. It was a lame dance. I looked awesome. Take my word for it.
School was lame. Funny how that happens.
So I got invited to something, to be honest the story only works if you are also in the dark about it. David texts me and invited me "somewhere". So I put on a flannel shirt and smokey eye my eyes... going for a sexy farm-girl look. I'm always shooting for random looks. Then we get to another girls house and David is snooping around like he does since he has epic ADD, and she is on the phone and reminds everyone to bring their ID. Ah ha! David was unaware that this place needed ID, even though he knew it was a bar (just so everyone knows, it was just to hang out, no alcoholic drinking was going to be involved. *I assume.)
*You know what they say when you assume though.... Maybe Google it, because I'm not entirely confident I have the phrase right.
I never felt so unwanted. False, I've felt a lot more unwanted but let's not talk about my deep-seated insecurities when I have a funny punch-line waiting... So David has to drive me home and I started to wonder: since when did I get so YOUNG?? Answer: the day I came out of my mother. Gross. But you laughed so it was worth it.
Here comes Saturday... Full Blown snow. Not the lame, rainy, hail-y, cold but icy snow. Snow on my poor, frost-bitten truck and I do not intend on going outside. I'm not emotionally ready for a snow day.
So I do homework, read, clean, take a shower and walk around my apartment in my robe. I wear my robe about 90% of the time that I am home. My robe or my Cheetos pajamas. And I have busy roommates so it's very rarely a problem. Well today, unaware that my roommate was home, I walked out to get some more water... in my big-blue-made-for-men robe.
Let's just say I am glad I am not in a "New Girl" (great show, you should check it out) situation. Cuz if it had been boy roommates, I would have been super embarrassed. As it was, I accepted the confused look I got and instead distracted my roommate with my witty banter, which can get me out of literally anything. Besides a snow day. I'm mostly sure.
Never underestimate me. I'm complex, like a fine Italian wine or maybe a Chinese finger trap.
Also: No-Shave November. So excited. Women can participate too right?
The "black Friday of October" is what I am calling it. A Friday that will go down in infamy as a completely miserable day of disgusting and rude Karma. Now Brenn and I have firmly established that Karma is indeed a bad word that starts with "B" and rhymes with witch. Karma was the fat girl in school who grew up to rule the universe in consequences, and sometimes she takes out her anger of high school outcasted-ness on those of us just trying to make it to the weekend.
So I wake up and Karma is not on my side. I yawn and crack the side of my lip open causing extreme pain. Then I bite into an apple and the roof of my mouth has been magically cut, so, um ouch! Then I check my email and hey, my professor wrote me back about my thesis statement I sent in yesterday. Oh, it says he doesn't like it, rewrite it and clarify also come see him before class to discuss it further. Ugh so I take out my massive Norton Anthology of Theory and Criticism, wipe away angry tears* and try to write a clear thesis about Aristotle's view on tragedy as representation of humanity and why we enjoy tragedy.
*Dramatization, did not actually occur
I type it out and email it to myself so I can go print it off downstairs in the computer lab. Walk downstairs and the computer lab is closed! It's never closed. Something was wrong with today. So I wait at the shuttle stop and oh my lanta, it took 10 minutes and I was going to be late meeting my professor if I did not get a move on. So I decide to walk instead, guaranteeing an extra 10 minutes but I can't wait any longer for the shuttle. I can print my thesis out at the computer lab in the library, next to the professors office but I will still be late. I am never late for almost anything! Today was kind of messed up.
As I'm walking down the path I decide, hey I can just write out my thesis as I'm walking to his office. So I rummage through my bag for a pen. And curse words galore came out of my filthy mouth when I realized I had no pen or pencil. I always have a pen or pencil. Which means I do, in fact need to go to the computer lab and there was zero chance of making it on-time to see my professor, I would just have to see him after class. So I click "print" on the computer when I finally get that thesis out, text a friend whom is in a near-by class for a pencil and walk to the printer to get my single sheet of paper.
The top line is cut-off.
I have to go back, log back on to the computer, re-find my email, re-copy and paste it, re press print and make sure it's down the page. Also my mouth was filthy again, muttering terrible, shameful words. Finally it is printed, of course finding the friend who was giving me a pencil was a scavenger hunt, and get to class huffing and puffing.
I write out a page of notes, look over my thesis that I was going to give to the professor. It was the wrong thesis. I had emailed myself the wrong thesis. Very dramatically I crumpled up my paper and threw it in my bag, then wrote out the thesis that made minimal sense out on regular paper. After class the professor and I walk to his office and he is asking me about Aristotle and what he meant and how catharsis works and that "tragic flaw" is not a correct term. I keep thinking to myself "Wow, what is the female equivalent of emasculation, cause that is what is happening right now." I lost all dignity on that walk of shame to his office. I had no idea what Aristotle was trying to say. I thought I did, my professor told me to read in between the lines. It was hard enough reading the lines! I walked away feeling femasculated.
So it's 12 'o clock and my day has been terrible. It was like a Monday, but it was Friday, I should have been excited. I just wanted to lock myself up in my room. A few hours later, I decided to suck it up and head to Target, retail therapy always made me feel better. So I drive extremely carefully because today would be the one day I get in an accident. Whew, I get to Target with no scratches and find my stuff fairly easily and put my basketful of goodies on the checkout belt. It's all loaded and I look through my bag and LAUGH. Because guess what people? No wallet.
The check-out girl (who has an auburn afro and is twilight pale) tells me, no problem she's just gonna keep the receipt and come back to her when I get my wallet. Target is over 15 minutes away from my apartment. Well, what the heck, I don't have anything to do for the next few hours anyways. I drive home and right before I get to my street, realize rush hour traffic is beginning. I give up on today.
I didn't go back to Target, I made myself a salad and decided to watch Grey's Anatomy season 2. I had a surprise in my salad though. Almost put it in my mouth:
It was like a freakin lady bug. I mean I never get skirmish with bugs, but it would have crunched! I like Lion King and it's cute when they eat grub, but this was crossing the line!
What am I supposed to do when my roommate has an adorable guy over and they are hanging out in the living room? Do I supervise? No, that's too hindering for her romantic life. MMM I'm considering just being quiet and pretending I'm asleep and if she makes any protests I will charge out of the room and punch him straight in the face and then drag his nasty body out of my room. Nooo fine I will let her get some. Wait is that... yes, yes indeed, my tiny blonde baby roommate is getting some. Sorry I'm creepin but this walls are thin and unless I make a special effort to put on my ipod I can't exactly ignore the situation! Oh they are giggling, it's going well. (Side note: getting some just means so smooching, necking, kissing, pecking. Nothing over PG rated I promise, thats why they are doing it in the living room. I assume.)
Anyhoo, this week has been weird. Like weird enough that I started saying "anyhoo" when I was feeling awkward around other people which has been frequent. Just random people suddenly being very open to me when I wasn't expecting it. And it's not like I'm a fountain of knowledge, as you would well know if you read this blog. So I just sit there and listen to problems and spit out something like "geez louise" and "shut the front door!" if I'm surprised. Then I digest and say "anyhoo" and talk about how I need to shave my legs but just don't. Like I said, weird vibe of the week.
Anyhoo. I wrote what I like to think is my best piece of writing in my entire life so far (I mean I wrote some really great stories and plays when I was younger*) for those of you interesting in Gossip Girl.
