Wednesday, August 30, 2006

I guess even vegetarians taste like chicken.


hannahjane --

[adjective]:

Tastes like fried chicken



'How will you be defined in the dictionary?' at QuizGalaxy.com

Sunday, August 27, 2006

Mom, you have to give me time to post

ok so I am really excited right now. I just got invited to join Phi Theta Kappa!! This may be a small feat for those geniuses out there, but I am by no means a genius so this is super awesome. I just have to maintain a GPA of 3.5 or higher. I can do that right?

Great news!!! Jeff is visiting on my birthday AND he’s going to let me drive his truck. We are going to ride shopping carts in wal-mart, talk about all the beautiful women in his chemistry class (ok, so he’ll be talking and I’ll be nodding my head enthusiastically), and have a gay ol’ time. I am very excited.

TODAY!!!!! I had a brilliantly klutzy day. It was raining on the way to school this morning, really heavy menacing rain, not the drip drip kind. So when it stopped raining all of a sudden I about had a heart attack. It just stopped. Like that. BAM! and then KAPUT! I could not figure out what had happened, until I looked up and realized I was in the parking garage. Ok, it gets even better. While waiting in line for lunch this obnoxious gentleman started talking to me, or at me rather. He was outlandishly dressed with a big ol’ afro. He was actually pretty scaring looking. In addition to that he started talking about the differences between personal space in different countries AND illustrating it. I just kinda stood there, with my plastic fork in my hand, prepared to attack if he got too close. Finally, he said very loudly with a lot of pride, “I’m from Switzerland”. And I said, “That explains it”. OUT LOUD. It was one of those things I meant to say in my head, but not out loud. He just looked at me and said, “excuse me?” I saw him reach for his plastic fork as he said this, seriously. Before I became the victim of a stabbing incident I quickly said, “you’re different than the folks who live here.” He put his fork down and asked me if I wanted to sit with him. I, of course, said no, and in my head, but not out loud, said, “HELL NO.” And that wasn’t the end of the embarrassing moments. Because my bag weighed roughly the size of a pregnant hippo I fell going up the stairs. The guys standing around me asked if I was ok, but when I started laughing they went back to talking. BECAUSE I was laughing so hard I fell AGAIN, and that time they just laughed, not bothering to help me. I now have two rug burns on my knee. And they hurt like hell because I am a wuss and hate pain.

Tom and I played tennis today and had a blast. He’s pretty good for a guy. I give him two weeks and he’ll be kicking my ass.

That is all.

Tuesday, August 22, 2006

rotten pepsi, loosing my ear lobe (not really), dripping lettuce, weird teachers, and super tomato quiche

well my car smells like rotten pepsi. the funny thing about this is the fact that I do not even drink pepsi. I would buy a strawberry air freshener but I am scared that it will only make the smell worse, and I am in no mood to smell rotten strawberry pepsi in my car.

I do not live in a very aesthetically pleasing environment right now. Not only my car is suffering from the jolt of moving. My apartment appears to have also been the victim of a very clown-like storm with 230 mph winds (I say this because I own a helluva lot of polka dot underwear and makeup). I used my phone as a flashlight to get into my apartment tonight because I could not find the light switch. This was a very painful method of light source. The only way I could get the light on was to press the volume- up, down, up, down. I used my wonderful vocabulary to illustrate my anguish every time my ankle, nose, shin, elbow etc. hit a box. After a moment, I realized that it would be much safer to crawl, but after I lost ¾ of my earlobe to the scissors that I thought I had lost a few days ago, I stood up. I found the kitchen, hell it could have been the bathroom, and flipped the switch. To my horror I was greeted by Mr. eight legs. Realizing that I had been crawling on the floor (currently owned by Spiders Inc.) I did an utterly amazing dance move, consisting of a whirlwind of hands and legs. Sometime during this beautiful move my hair came undone and I lost support on the left side if you know what I mean. To make matters worse somebody started knocking on my door. Apparently I left my keys in the door and the most gorgeous man in my building had to find them. By then I was mortally embarrassed, and ready to call it a night, but then I realized I had homework to do.

Have I mentioned how terrible the parking is here at my apartment? Tonight I had to park three blocks away. I turned it into a positive situation though. I had just bought a taco at taco bell and thought, what the hell, I might as well eat it on the walk over. I am a messy taco eater so this worked out well. I dripped lettuce all the way there and didn’t have to pick it up.

I had a very interesting first day at school. My poetry teacher wore a pinstripe suit with an obnoxious red tie. He had a beak for a nose and when he said the word ‘poems’, he made it into two syllables, po ems. Even though most of us already had our books he would walk up to random people and hand them his book, and with this incredible enthusiasm, shout, “READ”! He is old and shuffles when he walks, but when he gets excited he does these wild hand movements that could knock out a flying dinosaur.

My math teacher also turned out to be a true individual. With very little hair and even less confidence he walked into class late, only to realize he left his paperwork on the other side of campus. He must be training for the next Olympics by god because he was back in 20 minutes.

Because I have turned into quite the math nerd I had read ahead in the textbook. Every time I knew the correct process of solving a problem I would tell him. He would stop drawing on the board and look at me and say, “shhh, this is top secret. You weren’t supposed to tell anybody! The Russian spies now have all our secrets and will be able to establish a government on Pluto before us”. Seriously. He thought I was genuinely funny, and I thought he was genuinely cuckoo. Finally he realized that I had read ahead and started calling on me when he began to write something. I have become the teacher’s pet in an algebra class of all places.

I also have two classes with my hairdresser. She is very loud, with bright lipstick. I really do not think that I need to say anymore.

Overall the day was interesting, and the tomato quiche they served in the cafeteria wasn’t half bad.

Tomorrow I start weight training.

Cue the evil villain music please.

Saturday, August 19, 2006

spider lodge

Ok, so I am seriously angry right now. Since moving into this apartment I have been killing about 2-6 spiders A DAY! It has only been a week and the bug man has already been here. Must I also mention that I do not have very much food here. I have a container of mandarin oranges, 60 bottles of water, three bottles of unopened mustard and a loaf of bread. THAT IS IT. There is NOTHING for me to eat, let alone for the spiders. So, I did an extensive bit of research on the problem. I have to report the problem again, that’s a-ok, the bug man will be here again next week. If the problem is not fixed by then, I have to take personal responsibility of the 8 legged monsters. This means that I have to document the amount of spiders I see daily. So, being the creative genius that I am, I am going to not only document the spiders, I am also going to take pictures of the spiders after I kill them and make a photo album. After I do this for a month I am to call an extermination company of my choice and have them come out and fix the problem. The money that I spend will be deducted from my rent due to the laws of the state of Kansas and my well recorded documentation. But it creeps me out. There are spiders that want to take showers with me, spiders trying to steal my Justin Timberlake C.D., spiders that scamper sideways and JUMP. I have no doubt that within a few days, there will be spider hair in my razor. I have taken to sleeping with a shoe in my hand; just the other morning I woke up to a dangling spider, yes, I am not joking. It was across the room thank god or I would have peed my pants. I should not have to fight creepy crawly hairy creatures that are not even half my size (but close!) for my personal space and belongings.