Today finally feels like fall to me. I went apple picking yesterday, had to wear jeans and a sweatshirt, and today? I'm wearing a giant flannel shirt with new boots. Fan-freaking-tastic, right?
Yup.
It is.
I've been arting the crap out of my life which is super awesome. Who doesn't love art?
No one.
If you do...you suck.
Also, I have a new found love for Grace Potter and The Nocturnals.
I have listened to them over and over again for the past week.
New obsession?
Sure thing.
I even combined art and Grace Potter and The Nocturnals.
Skill.
I love flannel.
So comfy.
Monday, September 10, 2012
Monday, August 27, 2012
First Day Awkward Overload.
The first day of school, but not any first day. The first day of your junior year in college. Nothing too special about this day. In fact, at this point you get a little cocky because you know your way around. You are no part of the upper classmen. The world is your freaking oyster.
That was supposed to be what I felt like this morning.
I was pumped
I was ready
Looking mighty fine
Feeling good
In my element with my first class being in my major
Ready to get my learning on
But I had this feeling in my gut.
Something was wrong.
I look around at all the people sitting in the classroom with me
Don't lie, you can tell when someone is a freshman.
Everyone can.
I was sitting among a room full first years.
I was supposed to be in an upper level class, this didn't make sense.
So I turn to the girl next to me and ask what class this is.
"Intro to philosophy." She tells me with a smart mouth, looking all uppity with her nose in the air. (I visualized myself smacking her in that smart mouth.)
I was not in my education class.
Shit.
I can honestly tell you that I have never run faster in my life. I ran down to the first floor to the education department ask where my class is, then book it to the third floor where my class is currently in session. I have never needed to run up stairs like that and thank the freaking cows that I didn't not trip over myself and crash all the way back down those stairs. I would have hated the world, but thankfully my faith in the world is a little bit in tact still. I went to apologize after class for being late (Mind you this is the class that I sat in on when I came to visit the school and the professor remembered me. Oh joy.) and she told me she didn't even realize I had come in late. Apparently I have ultra ninja quiet abilities.
What a great start to the year.
That was supposed to be what I felt like this morning.
I was pumped
I was ready
Looking mighty fine
Feeling good
In my element with my first class being in my major
Ready to get my learning on
But I had this feeling in my gut.
Something was wrong.
I look around at all the people sitting in the classroom with me
Don't lie, you can tell when someone is a freshman.
Everyone can.
I was sitting among a room full first years.
I was supposed to be in an upper level class, this didn't make sense.
So I turn to the girl next to me and ask what class this is.
"Intro to philosophy." She tells me with a smart mouth, looking all uppity with her nose in the air. (I visualized myself smacking her in that smart mouth.)
I was not in my education class.
Shit.
I can honestly tell you that I have never run faster in my life. I ran down to the first floor to the education department ask where my class is, then book it to the third floor where my class is currently in session. I have never needed to run up stairs like that and thank the freaking cows that I didn't not trip over myself and crash all the way back down those stairs. I would have hated the world, but thankfully my faith in the world is a little bit in tact still. I went to apologize after class for being late (Mind you this is the class that I sat in on when I came to visit the school and the professor remembered me. Oh joy.) and she told me she didn't even realize I had come in late. Apparently I have ultra ninja quiet abilities.
What a great start to the year.
Thursday, August 23, 2012
The Prison That Is Know As Sickness.
The Stomach.
It is an organ that has a mind of its own. If it decides that it is a good day, then you will be walking around feeling normal, healthy, and chipper as a freaking blue bird on a spring day. Then there are the days where something doesn't sit well with Mr. Stomach and all goes to hell. He shakes his metaphorical head and comes up with a plan on how to teach you a lesson. You will know it's coming. He wouldn't settle for less.
Today is that day.
Mr. Stomach makes sure that you don't sleep well because he is shake, rattle, and rolling everything that he contains. He's playing some obnoxiously loud beat that thrums through your head and makes you feel awful. Not to mention, he wanted you to go no where. So he knows what is gonna happen and when but the creep doesn't fill you in. It could be in the morning, in the middle of the night, when you are in public getting that milk you were supposed to get yesterday, at your friends house, or if you will be lucky to have your own home to feel miserable in.
Then it happens.
Hopefully you were prepared and if not, please make your way to the nearest receptacle or restroom. Woman, make sure yo hold your hair back. Men...well, if you have long hair make sure you hold it back.
The interesting thing about the whole situation is that most of the time you will feel better after Mr. Stomach has pulled the evacuation button. But there are always those days when it just makes everything worse. You won't get sick again, which is nice because no one enjoys that, however you just end up feeling like there are tons of acid bricks sitting in your stomach. No matter what you try to eat it will do absolutely nothing.
Then. You. Are. Stuck.
You are confined to a couch, a bed, a plush chair. There is no leaving the house because you never know if you will be sick again or if you are having a terrible "acid trip" if you will. Try as you might to do what parents have been telling their kids for ages about eating dry toast or crackers or soup will do nothing to help you. Then you curse them since they are supposed to know the answers to every single problem that has to do with these kinds of illnesses. You have to stay indoors and sleep or read or stare at the ceiling for hours on end.
Being sick sucks.
I hate you Mr. Stomach.
(Ps. if your name is actually Mr. Stomach I apologize for using your name in an attempt to be witty and sarcastic.)
It is an organ that has a mind of its own. If it decides that it is a good day, then you will be walking around feeling normal, healthy, and chipper as a freaking blue bird on a spring day. Then there are the days where something doesn't sit well with Mr. Stomach and all goes to hell. He shakes his metaphorical head and comes up with a plan on how to teach you a lesson. You will know it's coming. He wouldn't settle for less.
Today is that day.
Mr. Stomach makes sure that you don't sleep well because he is shake, rattle, and rolling everything that he contains. He's playing some obnoxiously loud beat that thrums through your head and makes you feel awful. Not to mention, he wanted you to go no where. So he knows what is gonna happen and when but the creep doesn't fill you in. It could be in the morning, in the middle of the night, when you are in public getting that milk you were supposed to get yesterday, at your friends house, or if you will be lucky to have your own home to feel miserable in.
Then it happens.
Hopefully you were prepared and if not, please make your way to the nearest receptacle or restroom. Woman, make sure yo hold your hair back. Men...well, if you have long hair make sure you hold it back.
The interesting thing about the whole situation is that most of the time you will feel better after Mr. Stomach has pulled the evacuation button. But there are always those days when it just makes everything worse. You won't get sick again, which is nice because no one enjoys that, however you just end up feeling like there are tons of acid bricks sitting in your stomach. No matter what you try to eat it will do absolutely nothing.
Then. You. Are. Stuck.
You are confined to a couch, a bed, a plush chair. There is no leaving the house because you never know if you will be sick again or if you are having a terrible "acid trip" if you will. Try as you might to do what parents have been telling their kids for ages about eating dry toast or crackers or soup will do nothing to help you. Then you curse them since they are supposed to know the answers to every single problem that has to do with these kinds of illnesses. You have to stay indoors and sleep or read or stare at the ceiling for hours on end.
Being sick sucks.
I hate you Mr. Stomach.
(Ps. if your name is actually Mr. Stomach I apologize for using your name in an attempt to be witty and sarcastic.)
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
Fifty Shades of Oh-Lordy.
For a while I have been curious about the book, Fifty Shades of Grey. What is all the fuss about people? That's what I asked myself and finally a friend of mine lent me her copy of the book, but it came with a warning label.
"It's very...intense." She told me.
"What do you mean?" I asked, I honestly had no idea what this book was about.
"It's pretty pornographic."
I just stared at her. The book I held in my hands, that was being passed around and bought like hot cakes...was pornographic? Is she serious?
"Well, I read Nora Roberts and she always has sex scenes." I told her, sure that a few more wouldn't kill me.
"Nora Roberts is nothing compared to this. There is some S&M stuff in there. You need to prepare yourself for the stuff in this book."
Let us take a minute to digest what is being said here. A popular novel that is getting positive reviews from what I have seen and heard so far...is made up of 60% hardcore, nitty-gritty sex scenes. I might add that when there was a mention of sex, I was like pshhh no biggy! but then I brought the book TO. WORK. There should be a label on the back that says:
WARNING: Reading this book in the work place may cause the following: Embarrassment, discomfort, paranoia that other co-workers or your supervisors are going to see the page you are reading as they tell you to help them with a project, redness in the face, and concern that others may judge the book you are reading because they have secretly already read the book and know what you are getting yourself into. AT. WORK.
Proceed with caution.
In the past few days I have had so many discussions about this book with my supervisor as well as other coworkers that have already read the book. Super awkward. I don't even have an issue with people knowing that I read books that have sex scenes. I read romance novels for crying out loud, it's sort of a given. But this book...this book is out of the park with it's freakin' sex scenes. There is enough detail to to leave you wishing there could be less detail. The worst part about this book is that even though you are kicking yourself for reading it...you keep reading anyway! It is so interesting even when you tell yourself you should read something that you can chat with your mother about without worrying that maybe she has read that book. No one wants to know there mother in reading S&M stuff. No one.
I haven't finished the book yet, I'm about half way through...and I will probably read the second and third one. Save me.
"It's very...intense." She told me.
"What do you mean?" I asked, I honestly had no idea what this book was about.
"It's pretty pornographic."
I just stared at her. The book I held in my hands, that was being passed around and bought like hot cakes...was pornographic? Is she serious?
"Well, I read Nora Roberts and she always has sex scenes." I told her, sure that a few more wouldn't kill me.
"Nora Roberts is nothing compared to this. There is some S&M stuff in there. You need to prepare yourself for the stuff in this book."
Let us take a minute to digest what is being said here. A popular novel that is getting positive reviews from what I have seen and heard so far...is made up of 60% hardcore, nitty-gritty sex scenes. I might add that when there was a mention of sex, I was like pshhh no biggy! but then I brought the book TO. WORK. There should be a label on the back that says:
WARNING: Reading this book in the work place may cause the following: Embarrassment, discomfort, paranoia that other co-workers or your supervisors are going to see the page you are reading as they tell you to help them with a project, redness in the face, and concern that others may judge the book you are reading because they have secretly already read the book and know what you are getting yourself into. AT. WORK.
Proceed with caution.
In the past few days I have had so many discussions about this book with my supervisor as well as other coworkers that have already read the book. Super awkward. I don't even have an issue with people knowing that I read books that have sex scenes. I read romance novels for crying out loud, it's sort of a given. But this book...this book is out of the park with it's freakin' sex scenes. There is enough detail to to leave you wishing there could be less detail. The worst part about this book is that even though you are kicking yourself for reading it...you keep reading anyway! It is so interesting even when you tell yourself you should read something that you can chat with your mother about without worrying that maybe she has read that book. No one wants to know there mother in reading S&M stuff. No one.
I haven't finished the book yet, I'm about half way through...and I will probably read the second and third one. Save me.
Monday, August 13, 2012
Start 'Er Up...
I'm not so sure about blogging, but I feel like it could be very interesting, not only for me but for those who chose to read what my weird, sarcastic brain comes up with all the time. It took me forever to even come up with a stinkin' title for my blog page...or whatever it's called. But I figure it should reflect me, right? Why not title my babbling something I say with much consistency? Not I have to make the page pretty and entertaining for my future viewers. Challenge excepted.
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