sunny day... sweeping the clouds away...

i have come to the recent conclusion that warm-ish, sunshine-filled days truly do have the ability to make life seem okay. more than okay. good.

i woke up today, threw on my favorite long sleeved thermal and my down jacket... completely missing the memo re: the glorious day that was the 63 degree cloudless weather. to my surprise, by the time my 955 class ended, i was able to go jacket-less... surrounding myself in the cheery day.

[side note: also a new conclusion ~ jacket-less makes me feel pseudo-uncomfortable. i feel exposed without the blanket cover that is my northface pillow of a coat. i don't think i'm ready to give it up yet.]

i wasn't tired, which i usually am after class. in fact, i was almost happy. i grabbed some lunch, and felt as though i needed to be productive. i picked up my shirts for sarah and myself and proceeded to drive them to her in waukesha, enjoying every minute of it.

the ability to lower my windows was a breath of fresh air [literally and figuratively... although in the literal sense, warmer air means a stronger cow-smell on the way home... not so pleasant, yet a forever reminder of the farm land that is whitewater, wi.].

it's been a while since i've seen the sun and relished in it; it was quite fabulous.

so i guess that's my only point of this rapidly depleting blog entry.

hooray for spring. it makes me smile. troubles are forgotten and life is good for a tish.

give me novocaine...

everyone hates the dentist. i don't think i've met anyone that enjoys it. if you do, in fact, get your kicks from these half-masked people handling your tongue, do share, so i can proceed to call you an idiot.

i'm almost positive metal tools are not supposed to be scraped up against the bones in our mouths.

it's okay for a few minutes... your head is back, the ceiling gets more interesting... but when you see that shiny, razor sharp, pointed tip of a thing sticking out of your mouth, and you begin to think about what's on the other side of the shiny metal stick... [you know, the one that they're using to prod your mouth as if it's immune to pain...] it gets a little intimidating.

i usually try to focus on the ceiling and memorize the "determination" or animal posters... my favorite project last time was the proper name for a panda bear. you know, those really long, hard-to-pronounce names that are basically useless to normal people? panda bear: numacolarolum ducel. or something. obviously that's not correct, my memory only lasting on that one for about five minutes before i got distracted and forgot it.

this time, there was a poster on the far wall with a punctuation error that was killing me inside. it stated: "happiness like wild flowers, always finds a way." or something stupid like that. there needs to be a comma after the word happiness in my opinion. even typing that i wanted to just slip it in. i wanted to grab one of those shiny metal sticks and carve one in. oh well. maybe next time.

no matter what they say, a metal stick with a pointed tip is not meant to be inserted into my mouth and used to scrape my teeth. whoever came up with this idea should be fired.

not a girl, not yet a woman. ah, the wisdom of britney.

[first off, my apologies for the entry a couple back. i told myself never to drunk-blog again... alas, i can't even figure out how to get into my loft without injuring myself when drunk, let alone remember stupid rules i make for myself weeks before.

the good news is, aside from the last couple hours, my birthday party was a success... i think. there was a period of time i apparently missed out on... i.e. the cake that was brought out and when exactly i proceeded to blow out 20 candles without passing out... or remembering. ah well. maybe next year... i wish i could post pictures, also the kind i don't remember, but i curse technology more so than i curse the university of wisconsin whitewater library. maybe one day i'll figure it all out.

anyway, thanks to all friends near and far that came by, you made it a success:)]

so... here i am, 20 years old and still feeling 19. birthdays are silly. am i supposed to wake up [extremely hungover and unable to move without feeling as though i needed to tape a garbage bucket to my waist for easy access as the case may have been] feeling older? newer and improved? it never happens. every year i am a year older, but i always feel the same i think. every year there is a landmark when most of my friends have already turned the next age that i just start throwing myself into their range. unconsciously i considered myself 20 a while ago. either way, here i am. hooray for older or something.

ya know, i am no longer a teenager. that seems to be a big deal or something, and it sort of feels like one. am i this "woman" since i lost the "teen" at the end of my age? i think even when i'm 89 years old [if, in fact, i make it that long] i'll always consider myself a girl. i don't know.

the concept of age baffles my mind i think. every minute of everyday when we're younger it seems we can't wait to move on. get to the bigger and better things of our future lives. we can look up at the "big kids" of the 5th grade when we're seven and be blown away, and our mouths can hang agape at the seniors when we're freshman. but when we get to the ages we always looked up to... they don't seem to be such a big deal, and wonder how we could have been so blown away. i laugh at how i thought the 8th graders on the back of the bus could kick my ass if i sat in their "way cooler" seats at the back... or how my 16 year old babysitter was the coolest, most mature girl i had ever seen... it seems so ridiculous. maybe it's because i have no siblings, and thus have no semi-realistic marker on age... maybe that's another entry. :)

i'm twenty. god, that seems so... old in a way. i'm growing up, and it's insane to think about. eventually i'll be pushed out into the world to teach english to america's youth [if i can make it into the college of ed before i'm 30, that is]. it feels like everything is starting to fly by. makes my head spin to think about. there's life out there, you know?? "real world" shit that parents always talk about... [although i don't understand how they overlook the reality that's the now of our lives...].

right.

at least i have a lifetime left in school, as well as in the "real world," to be a dork, so that's always a plus.

i'm a sock. what are you?

You are a sock.

You are a cozy, fuzzy, warm-hearted person. A lot of your friends describe you as a hopeless romantic. You fall for the opposite sex very easily. But be careful, because usually you don't know what you are getting into, and because you are very sensitive, you can get hurt... especially in early relationships. Also, don't exclude the cold-hearted from your "want-list", because they just might be looking for a kind person to warm up their heart.... or a sock to warm up their feet.

Most compatible with: Toilet paper.

(http://www.boomspeed.com/dollzheaven2/quiz1.html)

birthday!

yep, apparently it's my birthday now. officially.

it's like5am so i think i'm okay.

hooray for st. patrick's day.

hooray for my party and all the friends that drove down... espeically just to see me drink myself under the table and make a fool of myself. kind of liek right now. oh well.

so yeah. thanks to yall for being there for me. especially during the mental break down i had at some point or another.

i started out with 27 pictures and only have 9 left... i have NO IDEA hwere they all went. aweosme. should be fun to develop.

i heart jenni for coming, as well as sarah and andy and ryan and the other people that drove to see me, bascially just to watch me drink. awesome. go you all.

pe3ople are dumb. especially ones not online. guess you'll never know what you missed.

i'm not going to class tomorrow. because if i did, i'm pretty sure it would only be to talk to a couple people, and i suppose one shouldn't be owrth it.

alright done.

i wonder if this makes sense! aesome.

i heart my friends. they rock.

yep.

i don't heart people that fuck and chuck. thought 'd share.

seacrest out.

deception, although it may decieve you into thinking so, is not your friend.

deceptive people, aka liars, should not be allowed to roam this earth freely. they should wear tags, or have huge bubbles following them, warning others: "do not talk to me. you will not be able to believe anything i say. try as hard as you can, i will laugh at you if you fall for it. i, [insert name here], am evil."

tonight i was once again forced to ask myself if my tag reads: "my name is lauren elizabeth. use me. i beg you. please lie to me and abuse me. it gets me off."

i like to think of myself as a pretty forgiving person most of the time. if you're an ex boyfriend, chances are i still talk to you, even if you fucked up, or fucked me over... because frankly, i think it's valid. shit happens when it comes to that. however, if you're my friend and you screw me over... please don't expect to talk to me again.

case in point, for those that don't know the obvious story of my life, because it seems oh so relevant:

amanda. ah yes, amanda. my best friend. loved the girl. she was a little competitive [okay, very], but truth be told, we worked well as friends. got along. were similar to a point.

steve. my high school first love of forever and a day. if you didn't have one of those, i feel bad for you... b/c they teach you a lot. they have this ability to teach you how to love, then to rip your naivety away. you won't get it back. it's amazing. I temporarily took a tiny piece of him that I never wanted to give back, while he got to keep an eighth of my heart forever.

finally, let's remember my good friend heartbreak, who i was gladly introduced to after these two lovely people got together 3.2 seconds after we broke up. a dream come true for anyone, obviously. something you just love to relive everytime you make a new friend or get a new boyfriend.

steve and i were able to salvage a friendship after a little break, aka some cooling off time for lauren. amanda and i weren't so lucky. after a few failed attempts and a few more screw-overs and lies, our friendship, as they say, was history.

lies do not become us. they do not give us any advantage over someone else. in fact, it generally gives said someone else the advantage in the fact that they'll find out, i promise, and consequently use your lies against you. you'll be the bad guy. if lies were never said, it would be much easier to move on from things. don't lead someone on to think something that's not true. the big stuff is always uncovered. the liars i know would make horrible murderers i think. they're not good enough at it apparently.

you just don't fuck around with your friends. they're around longer than relationships most of the time, and are there for you when you need them the most. you don't screw that up usually. if you care, at least.

now, it would seem my past hasn't taught me anything.

it would seem that second chances are blown away; friendships handed back to me on silver fucking platters.

lying, my oblivious friends, doesn't get you anywhere. people find out. withholding the truth sometimes works; avoiding questions, fine. lying? no no. you're better off running in the opposite direction, arms flailing everywhere, yelling [i just think that image is humorous. in reality i guess you're just better off telling THE TRUTH.].

really, what is so wrong with the truth?

withholding information is a crime in the law system, isn't it? well, i think it works. i've never really seen withholding info come back to bite anyone. it's the lies they tell in the process of the withholding that end up screwing them. i'm not saying it's something i recommend, but COME ON.

is it that hard to tell the truth?

tell me, is it?

does it physically pain some people to utter words that actually mean something?

you think you have someone figured out.

end up getting screwed.

[there's your punchline, jason. ha.]

what a loverly day, i say.

hooray for good days.

i skipped speech today, since i am taking it pass/fail and it is the most useless class ever.

adolescent lit was the usual worthless class as well today, but it was at least followed by a good lunch at drumlin. well, i guess "good" would be in reference to the company, not the food, since i'm pretty sure "good" wouldn't be the first thing to come to mind when speaking in reference to cafeteria food. "bland" or "tasteless" would be first... perhaps proceeded by "greasy" and "sodium-filled."

i came back to my room to download some quality country music... b/c i heart the new miranda lambert song as well as the jamie o'neal one. hooray for country. [speaking of, the kenny chesney concert is in a few short weeks... and can i just tell you how excited i am to wear my new straw cowboy hat?! woo... hooray for being a dork. maybe i'll bust it out on st. pat's day if i'm drunk enough.]

i proceeded to drive to janesville with steve to attempt to pick up some party decorations for thursday. target came first... where i found a banner that said "princess party" and was disney princess themed. it was vetoed.

on our way to factory card outlet down the strip mall, we passed petland... and who can resist pet stores with actual pets in them?! it was a bad move b/c i ended up just wanting to take them all home. bunnies, gerbils, a really cool looking snake... and oh, the puppies!!! an entire wall of them. we asked how much one was... and apparently even with the '$100 off any puppy' sale they had, it was still $899. apparently i will not be purchasing a puppy anytime soon. but man... i'm a sucker for those poor things.

i got to factory card outlet and found a plethora of decorations for my party... it looks to be a st. patrick's day/birthday theme since i couldn't stick with just one. i found another princess banner... it, again, was vetoed. ah well, such is life being friends with boys i suppose. i did, however, manage to get away with some princess crepe paper... which will probably be torn down in 15 minutes, but whatever. at least i'll have those precious moments with it.

i got my ear pierced [after spending $25 on stupid decorations] at diamond ted's. i love that place. if you ever need a tattoo or piercing... let me tell you, that place rocks. he's the coolest guy ever. probably like 50 years old with 9 kids... which he will chat up about at the drop of a hat. his wife does the tattoos, he does the piercings. family owned operation... quality fun. my ear likes to bleed frequently now, but hey, it was worth it maybe.

janesville mall was the next stop... a useless one at that. we hit up spencer's to see if we could find a cool ashtray... it was unsuccessful. steve found an "i heart sluts" shot glass... it was vetoed.

famous dave's topped off the adventure... mmm... finger-lickin' good. i recommend starting off with a cup of the chicken wild rice soup [extra crackers], followed by the hickory chicken sandwich. deeeelish.

for now i am boycotting homework and heading off to watch one tree hill. a little lucas, peyton, and brooke to cap off a loverly day... what more can you ask for?

peace and love.

http://imaybeadork.blogspot.com/2005/03/spring-break.html
[see the post script. and know why i heart tim.]

anonymous comments are not my friends.

i just wanted to take this time [this time where i am so incredibly exhausted i cannot even manage to open my clean laundry and pull out my pj pants... and when my toothbrush seems too far away to even comprehend, waiting patiently for me on my dresser...] to acknowledge my commentors on this blog.

specifically, ryan and meghan, who both made me laugh out loud today.

people who leave comments make me smile. hooray for reading about my random life and letting me know, slash just making me laugh. always a fabulous thing.

as for you anonymous commentors... you're dumb. we're probably not good enough friends if you can't even include your name with your mini post, so why even leave something? there's a way i can prohibit anonominity [is that a word? if so, is that how you spell it? whatever, you got me?], but i opt out, hoping that people will just grow balls on their own, without me being a mom and censoring it.

and all you loyal readers, you know you love me enough to read this over and over again, or at least look at the pretty pink format... so don't be shy. :) riiight. just kidding, i love you just for caring about my life sort of.

[side note: i think the weekends make me more tired than the week days. what is that about? maybe it's because i miss out on all my lovely naps. ugh. unacceptable. i feel sort of as though i didn't stop moving this weekend. i need a weekend for the weekend. alas. school tomorrow and i am DAMNED excited about it (the capital letters in 'damned' show the sarcasm attached to that sentence...)... i hope you are doing well. take a nap, they're good for the soul.]

all done. off i go.

someone tuck me in.

123 go.

word of the day: soporific.

my professor is an ass.

he has this smirk. this slight smile that he gives when he's laughing at someone's paper, or comments, or questions... which is followed quickly by a joke, or comment relating to how bad, inaccurate, or ludicrous he thinks it is.

i always thought this smile was to say "ha. you are an idiot and i think it's funny. watch me laugh at your ignorance. i'm an ass and i don't care who knows it." it was brought to my attention today that he might just be trying to make a joke. if that's correct, his 'jokes' go over my head and just turn bitter and mean anyway.

this professor starts off class today by explaining to us what a thesis sentence is, and how he didn't think people knew how to create sentences. we were then told to write a paragraph on the "games" in a play we had just read. it should include a topic sentence and obvious supporting arguments. this was a little intimidating, seeing as how we were to get our first papers back at some point during the period. obviously my thought was that he didn't think any of us knew how to write, and consequently needed an exercise about it.

the class handed these in ten minutes later.

now, i can understand if a professor has specific examples prepared prior to class as to "what not to do" or "don't do it this way because...". however, i do not find it appropriate that he took the time to go through the first few paragraphs and laugh, sharing them with the class.

"Games play [no pun intended] an important part in Topdog/Underdog by Suzan-Lori Parks."

that was my sentence. i didn't take it as though it was a paper i needed to get an a on. i thought, when we were writing it, he was just going to use it to... well, actually, i didn't know.

he reads my first sentence aloud, and that small smile creeps slowly to his face.

professor: "this sentence is..."

"fabulous?!" i muttered to joey and doug... attemping to be sarcastic and a psuedo smart ass.

"soporific."

he writes the word on the board.

doug: "that's good!"

me: "no. no, it's really not."

professor ass: "does anyone know what this means?" no hands raise, he not even giving them a chance to. "well, it means 'puts you to sleep'."

he proceeds to say something about how it might just be fridays and his bad mood or something... that smile still on his lips.

doug points at me, exclaiming, "that's hers! that's her paragraph!"

joey puts his sweatshirt over his mouth to stop the laughter. apparently it's hilarious.

now, i don't really care if people know what i wrote or not, my biggest problem is how this professor chooses to explain that my sentence is "dull." i do not think an adjective such as "soporific," a word he felt the need to write on the board for all to remember, was neccessary.

just my opinion. it's not like i can't take a joke [even though john egan always yells at me saying just that], or that it was a big deal, i just found it inappropriate and thus thought i'd share the experience. unneccessary.

at least i'll never forget what soporific means.

by the way, i got an a on the paper he handed back.

"soporific" is apparently A-Okay.

oh today.

random thoughts for today:

ashlee simpson is a poor poor performer. i think she sounds okay on her "record" [lingo for cd...], but man... when she gets out there... she's just obnoxious. [related thought: ryan cabrera should be the one with the tv show. he is attractive and normal, and makes fun of ashlee when she farts, yet loves her anyway.]

milk is my heroin. i've never been addicted to hard core drugs, but if i was, i don't think anything would be as good as milk. it's almost wrong. i have the ability to take in an obscene amount of the liquid and still crave more. tim says he's going to get me a cow for my birthday so i can keep it next to my bed and "latch on" whenever i saw fit. however, that would not only be gross in the sexual connotation way, but also b/c i need skim. or at least 1%. pasturize that cream; i'm good to go.

i am anti-social. today was the first thursday in a really long time that i didn't get drunk, or leave my room pretty much. it was fairly enjoyable, although boring. i took a three hour nap and passed on any invitation to go out, instead favoring the oc slash mtv reruns of the ashlee simpson show [hence ashlee comments.].

whoever invented the itrip is a genius and should thus receive a raise. for those that don't know, an itrip is just this little tiny thing that you can plug into the top of your ipod, tune your radio to a certain station, and then proceed to listen to any song through your car speakers, or radio speakers, wherever you choose to play it. it is the greatest invention. i have no idea how it works, but it is exceptional. to have all those songs at your fingertips?! amazing.

inconsistent people need to stop talking to me. enough said.

i need to get my phone fixed. asap. for those that apparently don't talk to me and consequently don't understand this, my phone is coming apart. it's not even a year old, but apparently i have dropped it 100 times too many. i have to squeeze the bottom together to make a connection. i was on the phone for a lengthy period of time tonight and my hand got tired. also, this prohibits me from cradling my phone. trust me, my friends, you take cradling the phone between your head and shoulder for granted. it's very obnoxious.

perhaps you're not the only one. a little more cryptic, but true. it seems relationships are tough, and although you may have had differences and split up for a reason, perhaps some of the same things you were thinking were in their head as well. perhaps you should have done certain things differently, or added things to your repitoire, but it's too late and shouldn't matter anymore. the past is past.

i generally hate drunk people when i'm sober. with a passion. when i'm in the bathroom peeing and some drunk guy comes in to use the urinal, i don't like it. when i'm drunk, it's hilarious. when drunk, things are just so much more entertaining. when sober, the same things are dumb and you want to hit the people doing them. however, anyone who uses the word "implicature" in a sentence about a boy is automatically a-okay in my book. aka jenni. i guess there are the annoying drunks, and the funny drunks. i know i'm just an amazing drunk. ha. just kidding. i think i can be both. i hope i'm not annoying actually [help me if i am.].

people that substitute the letter "z" for s need to shape up. such as "boyz". this is both unneccessary and makes you look like an idiot. stop it.

random acts of... randomness make me smile. amanda made me a sign for my door tonight b/c she was unaware of my deviant friends that thought it would be funny to take away anything that had my name on it on my door that acknowledged 320 bigelow was my room. so now i have something, and it makes me smile.

i love blogs. of all shapes, sizes, and colors.

it's official! [part one.]

[this would be novel length, so i'm splitting it up. fyi.]

apparently i go to school with idiots.

that, or i'm just starting to hate people with more of a passion than i ever have before. either way, it's for sure now. consciously or not, people are dumb.

it started a couple days ago, and has proceeded to build up to a point where i may inflict bodily harm soon.

preface: i'm pee-shy. i can't do it if someone's in the bathroom that i don't know. i get around this obstacle by simply running water or turning on the hand dryer. what can i say? i think it's weird if someone can hear me.

set up: about 830am, before class. i am in the bathroom, brushing my teeth, when a girl walks in and starts washing her face. fine, whatever. i turn off the water and realize i have to pee, so i turn it back on. i get in my stall, start to go... and lo and behold... this girl turns off her water... then proceeds to TURN OFF MINE. i'm sorry. WHAT?! i didn't forget to turn it off... i purposely turned it back on for 45 seconds.

apparently she's trying to save the fish, one pee-shy person at a time.

because it was so shocking, i had stopped peeing and had to then start up again. i shook my head as i sat, imagining why someone would do this. i came up with nothing. i was only reminded of this incident because she is currently sitting out in the hall talking on her cell phone outside of the bathroom. i am tempted to grab a cup of water and throw it in her face, exclaiming, "this is what you took away from me that morning. bitch." i just don't get it. i am flabergasted as to why someone would do that.

clearly i am not affecting you by running water two sinks away. i didn't leave the bathroom; clearly i am in the stall. do you like to hear people pee? personally, i'd rather run water on all fronts. myself, a stranger, my friends, it's just uncomfortable.

i hate her. i don't even know her name.

it's official! [part two.]

[you see why it's in two. people are still dumb.]

number two: we had to read a book called "road to memphis" for my adolescent lit class. it focuses on an african american family around 1945. now, since the people i know that read this blog are educated people, i must assume that you are all aware of the struggles af amer's had to go through during this time period. it was possibly the peak, although i'm not sure i can say that. either way, i am assuming that everyone understands that there was a civil rights movement for a reason.

apparently i was an idiot for making this assumption during class.

set up: a random girl, older than myself, raises her hand and states, in all seriousness, something along the lines of: "i'm sorry, but i found this book incredibly unrealistic. i mean, when they get to the gas station, so many bad things happen - their new car gets scratched by the white men, the girl gets pushed in the dirt and kicked, and the attendant won't even let them get their car fixed. come on." now, i don't know about you, but i thought it was, if anything, almost unrealistic in the fact that the african american characters weren't killed, let alone let off easily. i'm sorry. unrealistic struggles? too many of them? 1945? WHAT?!

this girl, who is apparently an r.a. and going to be teaching america's children, was just added to my "obvious idiot" list.

number three: "road to memphis" once again. a boy named ryan, someone myself and others have poked fun at for already being an "obvious idiot" that pulls his hair incessantly, decides to raise his hand two minutes after r.a. idiot does and contribute to the class. bad move number one on his part.

now, i sort of stopped paying attention after idiot girl talked, figuring this class is more useless than i thought, if these were the people in it. my ears perked when i heard, "well, it was such a small struggle in society..." followed by, "i think the author neglected one of the most interesting characters..." and proceeded to favor the chubby character that had no importance to the real story; one that most people just take for what he is and move on. not ryan. no no, he feels the need to talk about the "small struggle in society" as well as harris, a filler character, and how the author sucks b/c she didn't write enough about him. i laughed out loud.

ryan is getting on my nerves. i think he is an unconscious rascist, which is apparently almost worse than a real rascist. the "small struggle" comment in adolescent lit left me speechless.

now, i need you to understand that i have been to catholic school my entire life. this college is my first public institution. because of this, i realize i have been admittedly sheltered from races other than my own. however, my mom taught in mps [milwaukee public school system] for about 30 years and just retired... so i figure i have been aware to a point of discrimination and how to "treat others like i'd want to be treated," etc. because of this upbringing, never in my life have i been around anyone who discriminates, in all seriousness, about another race.

quote joey about writing this in my blog: "people need to know the underbelly of whitewater lauren."agreed. i can't believe these two people are going to be teaching america's children. apparently i am so naieve that i didn't think people that were this blind and racsisit could possibly be in my classes.

i guess i was ignorant in the fact that i thought that although people could be annoying slash dumb, there weren't TRUE idiots out there, especially in my classes.

i miss my sheltered catholic school life.

original cynicism.

i don't think i know more than maybe one person who actually believes in the concept of love wholeheartedly, who isn't jaded or cynical or just believes that someone could be sincere. i asked sarah about a boy i couldn't figure out, and her automatic response was, "you're the one on the side. he's leading you on; keeping your interest just enough. either make up a boyfriend or stop talking to him." is that what most people would say? is everyone just so... pessimistic... that noone has a chance? that's insane. and sad. do bad experiences form the negativity? i guess that makes sense... but i don't feel as though it should completely ruin the hope of something good ever happening again.

to be 20 years old [next friday...;)] and think your life has been so terrible that you can't believe in anything or anyone anymore?

it's the safe way to go. speaking from personal experience, it's much easier to stick with the "expect to be disappointed and you won't be" life philosophy. besides, if you believe in something so much, someone so much, and it falls through [as it usually does], you look like an idiot for believing in it, as well as feel the pain from the disappointment. it's hard to put yourself out there, to attempt to give yourself to something that you're not sure of. isn't it? if you disagree you've never had your heart broken... sincerely broken... i think.

i don't know. i guess i'm just in shock at the fact that we are 20 years old and already hating the opposite sex, thinking we'll never really be happy, that everyone in the world is fake, and living with a belief that we shouldn't believe in anything. it's crazy. it makes me want to scream.

what happened to baskets of kittens and rainbows?! or real smiley faces, no sarcasm attached? ha, i guess there would be no fun in any of that.

i wish i were 10 again. fourth grade. what a fabulous age. all there was to worry about was whether to get grape or orange soda on hot lunch days, or whether or not the boys would let me play soccer at recess. i don't remember anything i learned in fourth grade. everything was just about... well, nothing. that was the beauty of it all.

yeah. i wanna be ten.

i'm a s.f.m.x.

so i have recently noticed that most of my friends that have these tell about their days, or otherwise more broad aspects of their lives such as "this is what i did today." i tend to avoid it, fearing others may get bored or not care about what i did yesterday, or today, or the day before that [still meaning yesterday if you caught on to that...], and instead favor my anger toward life, or a particular story from my day, perhaps incorrectly assuming it is more interesting to read.

however, i'm going to stray from that for a minute or two and tell everyone about my weekend! because i KNOW you're all dying to know about what i do with my time! [riight... actually i just have nothing very interesting to tell, so i'm clinging on to my uninteresting weekend for help.]

ready go.

friday was dumb. i slept and watched good will hunting. in that order. then slept again. had some milk. went to bed. awesome. [this is going well so far.]

saturday was at least more entertaining. i went to work 12-5... which was awesome as usual [insert sarcasm here]. if i hear one more computer guy tell me i need to straighten my hair again, i will scream. after work i ran home to change into something other than red and tan and proceeded to go to houlihan's with sarah. ahhh the wonders that come up when i'm with that girl. we've been best friends for so long that it's amazing we still have things to talk about. it was the most fun i've had in a while. we came up with t-shirt ideas that we will hopefully be wearing for my birthday party [see title line...] if i get on the ball and head to sassy shirts in the next couple days... so you'll have to wait until then to find out just how fabulous they are. afterward we headed to kopp's to meet up with becca, ryan, brett, brian les....

...okay i just realized how fatastically boring it would be to continue to tell you about my weekend. do you really care who was there, or what i did? if you're my friend, you were probably there, or have at least talked to me since then, and are thus caught up on the festivities you missed out on. so yeah. i'm quitting that.

moving on.

so how bout this weather, huh?! 53 degrees? glorious. [i guess that's not much more interesting huh... alright.]

so about my birthday party. i guess it's not really going to be a real party, since it's at steve's apartment and i have like twelve friends but STILL! i never do anything to recognize my birthday usually, instead preferring the pretend humble thing by not bringing it up, waiting to see if anyone remembers. but since most of my friends are male, that doesn't work out very well unless i plan something. SO. the 17th. steve's apartment. friends are coming in from purdue, northwestern, um... milwaukee... either way, i'm thinking it will be pretty exciting. alcohol and old friends mixed with new... what could be better, honestly. you should come, since it appears you're enough of my friend, or were at some point in time, to have my screen name and thus read this blog...

[well, looks like i'll be getting loads of comments on this entry... seeing as how fabulously entertaining it is.... ]

...
:)
stay sexy.

bored by you.

as i was sitting here, gracefully turning the pages of the sophisticated publication otherwise known as glamour magazine, i came across an interesting tidbit that i thought i'd share with my blog readers:

apparently, a random study found that higher-iq women are less likely to get married. however, the researchers speculate that the brainy gals are the rejecters, not the rejected: "The brightest women are finding that men are just not interesting enough," says professor paul brown.

i don't know about you, but this may explain a lot of things.

news flash: "smart women bored by dumb men."

"oh god no."

me: "the library almost ruined us."

professor ivry: "are you guys a couple?"

joey: "oh god no!"

pause. laughter from the class and prof.

professor ivry: "'god no?' did you hear that?!"

me: "yeah." [plant smile on face. hilarious.]

three minutes later.

me: "you had to pay 50 cents just for the copy card."

joey: "oh, you didn't pay crap!"

pause. laughter from the class and prof.

professor ivry: "that's what i wanted. library survivor. no no, better than that. the amazing race, library edition!"

god dammit.

i heart whitewater.

the library ruins my life.

i knew it would, which is why i had avoided it... until i was forced to participate in "library adventure day" in critical writing. sounds cute and funny, doesn't it folks? well, let me tell you, it's anything but. friendships were almost destroyed, innocent bystanders were almost murdered.

up until last friday, i had avoided the library like the plague [so much so that it now enables me to say 'i avoid the plague like the library'.]. i hate the place. [granted, i had never been in it, but i attributed my loathe to my freshman year. i'm awful at directions and the first week of college i got lost on campus. every path i took led me back to the library. it was a bad movie where all i could find was the library. it was as if it was mocking my every move.] the library was my number one enemy.

lib and i were forced to put our differences aside last week, however, when my teacher was absent and informed us that while he was away, we were to have a "tour" of the library, complete with attendance and worksheet, which would be due on friday.

now, today was the day i decided to tackle the library again, for the last time. "library adventure day" meant i had to participate in a scholarly "scavenger hunt" of sorts. six numbers were on the sheet. didn't seem so bad. each number had about three things to do. resources to find, pages to photocopy. i cannot fully explain this worksheet without giving you an excerpt, so here it is:

2. a. Choose one of the following 20th-century poets and poems from your text [proceeds to list 12 options].
b. Do a search on the author and/or poem in the "Literary Index" database to find info on the author and poem in the various reference works.
c. Locate two of the reference books from your results list in the library. Make a copy of the first page of each entry.
d. From each essay, find a citation to another article or book on that author and/or poem. look up that citation in the library catalog. go to the stacks and locate the article in the relevant journal or book. Copy the first page of the article.

that was just number two. you probably skimmed over that part, right? it's hard to read, right? imagine being forced to read every word multiple times to make sure you're actually doing it correctly.

after about two and a half hours of looking through books and searching the online catalog, i began to go a little library-crazy. i found myself sitting on the floor in the book review index isle, laughing hysterically to myself. i had to put away the book and find my partner, who had not yet joined me in my insanity. apparently i need to chill. i admit outloud i can see how people just walk into a place and start shooting. i get loud, then quiet, then draw pictures. i note how the red pen i'm using looks unusally like blood as i draw a hand giving the middle finger. joey can't figure out the doorknob to leave the third floor and runs into the door.

hour four rolls around and we are slowly going our seperate ways. our feet are dragging as we walk up and down the stairs for the 12th time. our arms move slower as we put our copy card in the machines to print. joey runs into a door again. we start to get angry. patience is tested. "don't let the library ruin our friendship" is uttered more than once. microfilm is ripped while attempting to slide it in the viewing machine. i began to wish, sincerely, that i had brought my wallet... to ask a librarian if i paid her everything i had, if she'd do the rest of the sheet for me.

hour five brings hatred. hatred for the walls, the books, the microfilm, the cabinets, the professor, my life. joey still couldn't get a hang of the doorknob. luckily, this time i was there to witness it, giving me a perfect image for the next good while of someone running into a door. hard.

six o'clock comes... a good five hours at the library. luckily, no one was hurt in the finishing of the bogus "scavenger hunt", except perhaps my professor on friday, where i will proceed to raise my hand and ask him if he has finished the worksheet and is prepared to hand it in. i think he made us do it because he must be satan. i may give him the devil horns in class and see if he responds well.

perhaps he is a library nazi.