Broken Shards of Glass

Today in marketing, I turned in my test in the first 30 minutes of the 75 minute class, like usual, and my teacher wanted to talk to me. She was like, "What's your major?"
"Accounting."
"Oh, well, you should get a minor in marketing. It's only 3 more classes!"

I was like- you have got to be kidding me. After hating it this whole semester, WHY on earth would I want to put myself through more of it? Apparently I'm good at it, though, or at least good at taking her tests. So I declined her suggestion with a polite and truthful, "I already have a minor in information systems" and then she got all upset that would not be joining her dark side.

At last! Having minor and using it for conversational leverage has paid off! HAHA

I just thought that was funny because I'm good at things I don't particularly enjoy. Same goes for configuration class, but at least that one's gotten a lot better for a certain reason. I just feel like a lot of the irony in my life is like John Donne's metaphysical poetry. It's just a feeling.

Boston: It's MORE than a feeling!

And since it was rainy today and I refused to have another Friday afternoon incident (the drenched accounting notes were THE last straw), I decided to walk to school with my umbrella. I had good times with my playlist:
1. In the Dirt by S. Carey
2. A Little's Enough by Angels and Airwaves
3. Of Course You Would by Allie Jansen

Which reminds me: there shan't be anymore lace. The lace has lost its appeal because it never wants to spend any time with me. It's always "some other time" and this week is always "terrible" and there's always a "project" to be done. And I know that people aren't perfect, but if you can't take out one hour of your entire weekend to see me, then you're not as awesome as I thought you were.

True story.
At least it was fun while it lasted.

In other news, I have been wanting to play Roller Coaster Tycoon recently. But even more than that- I've been wanting to apply all of my business skillz to it and totally win and pwn each park. I mean, if you think about it (read: take all of the fun out of it), playing that game is like being manager of your own awesome enterprise. You have the financial side with the loans and what roller coasters would be the best "investments" (you could even calculate ROI- OMG!) and then you have the customer service with the handymen and the security guards, and you even have the marketing with the advertising and landscaping. But then you also have to have the technical skills to build a really awesome roller coaster that has just enough excitement points to outweigh the nausea points. The key: roll banking.

I would just love to play that game with a business-oriented mind. It would either ruin it for me, or make it totally awesome.

I was reading about the postal service today, what services they offer online and how they sell stamps in retail stores now, and it got me thinking (oh no). Has anyone ever tried to counterfeit stamps before? It seems like it would be pretty easy to do, since they're only like 1" x 1" stickers. They're not of very intricate design, and it's not like they have a counterfeit-stamp-checking-marker-thingy (or do they?). Since manufacturing costs would be relatively low and so would selling price (because you'd have to undercut the 43 cents a stamp because otherwise, there would be no point), but after establishing some primary demand, I think you'd be able to make a decent margin.

Not that I'm condoning this, but I wonder if anyone has ever thought about it before.
*shrug*

And I have a couple of pictures for you today, and both of them deal with fame, so I'm trying to decide which one would be more awesome to you. Let's start with open mic night.

You should know this: I did not cry. Did not even come close! I actually could do dynamics, and have tone, and BLEND with Amanda! Looking out over the audience, I actually thought to myself, "This is fun!" It was very encouraging! I might even go out on my own after such a spectacular experience. And here's some photographical evidence, provided by bff Mike:






This is why Mike and I are bffs:

Me: We never said where we were meeting on Monday for our group.
Mike: Yeah- we're just...meeting!
Me: Should we get a room? Yeah, let's get a room.
Mike: Allie, I didn't know you were like that!







And then Mary Hope bought us flowers, but I have no vase, so here are my tulips...in Gatorade bottles rescued from Archana's trash can! Aren't they pretty?















So that's pretty cool.
And now the other awesome thing:

MY FACE IS ON THIS BANNER:













Look at me, representin'!

It's a screenshot of the PDF because I didn't know how else to turn it into a jpeg. But yeah- the banner will be bigger than I and will be displayed this summer at orientation sessions. And that's really all there is to say about that.

I feel like I need to address the Poodle Skirts from the 1950s. Normally, I'm in favor of old-school and retroclassical (that's not even a word) styles, but poodle skirts have got to be one of the worst ideas ever engendered. Such things as that only belong at Elvis concerts and costume parties. Also, I don't know how people can wear rain boots with shorts. It just seems like the most effective and efficient way to get a blister, and that's not an often-sought goal.

I found it interesting that I'm not homesick anymore. I can even listen to, play and sing Taylor Swift's "Never Grow Up" song without crying! I think I've learned to compartmentalize and separate the emotion from the song, which kind of defeats the purpose of art (wait a minute- there's a purpose of art?), but for performance, this is very important. It also helps that I have good friends here now. And a sewing machine.

How many letters do you want behind your name when you grow up?

3,
T.T.

The Day Allie J Ruined the Day

Something happened to me today that has never happened to me before.

"You did long division?"

Close, but no.
I stood some one up. Totally on accident, but still- how UNAWESOME is that?
Until this day in history, I have been an incredibly punctual person- always setting alarms, leaving enough time, etc. Ok- so this friend and I had planned on going to church together for Easter, and I wanted to go to the 8:30 service because that's what I'm used to. He was going to pick me up at 8:12 and everything was going to go swimmingly.

Or so I thought.

Turns out that after you set the alarm for the correct time, you actually have to push the button to turn it on.
If I could go back in time to any moment in history or in my life, THAT would be it.

So I'm lolling around in my bed this morning and I'm like, "It sure is light out for 7 am, but you know with the time change, it gets lighter earlier..." and I look at the clock.
8:21. HFC!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
And since I turn my phone on silent when I go to sleep, I had multiple missed calls that I didn't even hear. I called him, and he was already on his way after I had so rudely stood him up.

On a scale of 1 to Hate, I REALLY HATED how this morning turned out. And it was such a beautiful day for Easter, too!

At 8:23, I actually considered slipping into my Easter dress and speeding just so he wouldn't have to go alone, but I didn't think it would be appropriate to walk into church 10-15 minutes late.

So instead of going to church, I mentally harassed myself whilst fixing up the Accounting Association banner. It was lacking some letters, so I bought some felt yesterday and reattached some letters and reinforced some others.

Look at me- being a dedicated member to this organization!




















The picture of my actual work can be viewed in the previous post, and I double doggy triple dare you (so now you HAVE to do it) to try and guess which letters I created and sewed on myself. Hint: I did 2. Leave your guesses as comments. And I wanted the banner as my thumbnail for when I advertise my blog today, but Facebook won't allow me to advertise the pictures in the newest post, so I have to do it one behind. Oh, how I confuse my readers just for my marketing schemes. But you know what they say- you can't spell marketing without lace.

Ooh- that was a big hint. You gotta watch out for those.

And while we're talking about relationships and how I'm good at ruining them, let me tell you about a paradigm shift that's going on in my life right now. For all my non-accounting readers, which is roughly 75% of you, please just bear with me.

In the past for me, relationships kind of worked like net present value and the time value of money. It was like the more time you spent with the other person and the more time put into the relationship, the more valuable it would be.
I'm starting to rethink this analysis, but unfortunately, we haven't covered anything in accounting yet that illustrates this as nicely as the last one.
I now am finding that yes, time spent does build relationships, but it's not the sole building block OR determinant in how valuable it is. I have a best friend that I've known since second grade, and I have a best friend that I've met this semester. And since they are both best, the NPV is irrelevant!

If it were a cost, it would be sunk, and it would be ignored in any further analysis.
Managerial accounting ftw!

So that's my latest outlook on life.
And I just realized I'm still wearing my bathing suit.
Which reminds me of a true story:

I went to the pool today, and there were a few children in there when I arrived. I put down my things, spread out my towel, and I'm laying there eating candy and writing (because that's what I do) and I hear and see the children whispering and looking at me, and one of the girls says, "She's..." and then mumbled something. So I look at them and say, "I'm what?"
And one of them says, "You're pretty!"
And I was like awwwwwwwwwww, thanks! And I wanted to offer them some candy because I hear that children like that sort of thing, but then I realized how creepy it would be, and since I'm not Pedobear, I refrained.

But that was something. And then I tried to look at myself from their perspective, and then I realized that I still want to learn to surf. It was a dream of mine long ago that vanished when I made up my mind to not live on the coast. But now the dream has been resurrected in me (like Jesus!), and so perhaps one day I will. Maybe Brother-In-Law could teach me the same time he teaches his son.
I'd be the coolest aunt ever.

Also, I've lost weight. I used to be a barely-healthy 120, but now, confirmed by Mike's scale, I'm a borderline anorexic 114. This is NOT GOOD. I used to love to eat 5 mini meals a day! Then again, I've been super busy and stressy. Not like that's any excuse, but it's the best up with which I could come. I've been very unlike myself recently- oversleeping/being a jerk-face, not eating every hour, having no discipline to study over playing guitar. I wish myself would come back to me. I need to write myself a letter telling myself so. Letters tend to solve so many problems.

Dear Self,

Please start being normal again. I miss you and the way you used to get 8 hours of sleep at night. Start eating lunch at a normal time again- even if that means stuffing your face while your group is trying to put together a presentation on Tuesday! Start studying for your tests next week- the lucky green pencil can only do so much!
I'm begging you to change your behavior to your good old ways. If you do not return to normalcy, you would no longer be Allie J, and I cannot exist without you! Please- for your sake and mine!

Sincerely,
Me

Well, that was about the creepiest thing I've ever done. That was almost as creepy as what I did Thursday night.

"What did you do Thursday night?"

I'm so glad you asked!
I used to think that people were completely full of dookey when they told me to practice public speaking in front of a mirror. But Thursday night I was practicing my open mic night stuff (I'll actually be performing in 49 hours. Not like that's anything to freak out about...), and I was like- HEY! I wonder what I look like when I perform! So I changed into the nice dress I'll be wearing for it and then I wheeled my swivel chair over to my tall mirrors and serenaded myself in order to simulate performance. It was a good experience because now I know what everyone else will see, but it was kind of creepy looking myself in the eyes and saying, "If we're both not married by 22, can I be so bold and ask you?"

I'd so say yes, too. HA.

Not really. I'd need me to be a boy.

If you say no, then no it will be,
T.T.

Deceitful Air Fresheners

It hadn't rained all week, but when the day of the outside volunteer fair arrives, it pours. Of course it would. Not five minutes before I had to leave for work, the skies opened up and let out torrents of rain, and I stepped out to ride my bike home and thought, "Well, it's not going to get any drier."

So then I biked home in the cold April rain. The great thing was that there was no traffic. The bad thing was that everything got soaked- my calculator, my accounting notes (MY WORLD NO LONGER MAKES SENSE!), my underwear- everything. Biking in the rain is like swimming. I had to wipe my face off periodically to see where I was going, and I'd tear through big puddles spraying water all over myself. At one point, I was laughing because I felt like a kid running through a sprinkler again. And then there was lightning and thunder... I WAS a kid- running through God's sprinkler. Haha!

Then I locked up my bike and dripped into my apartment, shivering, and I see my air freshener on my desk, touting its "After the rain" scent. Ha- after the rain does NOT smell like tropical zinnias and dew-laden hibiscus. It smells like warm asphalt and mud. But I guess they wouldn't be selling too many air fresheners if they had truthful scents.

I then frantically dried my hair in an attempt to look like a decent volunteer in a short amount of time, and I'm on my way over there when I am informed that it was cancelled because of the rain.
10 minutes later, it was sunny.

Conclusion: Some days you're the dog, and some days you're the hydrant.

You know how I call Management class kindergarten? Maybe this will convince you: Yesterday, we COLORED in class. In groups of three, a person would draw something and pass it around every few seconds so that another person could add something else. It was a demonstration on how communication in groups is really important.
Just when you thought coloring was only for children.

And speaking of communication, I was looking up quotes the other day for a speech (don't worry- it wasn't my speech), but I came across a good page of quotes. And I don't normally like other people's quotes because they are typically super-lame and trite, but I did come across a few jewels that I shall now share with you:

"If you wouldn't write it and sign it, don't say it."
-Earl Wilson

"When you are arguing with a fool, make sure he isn't doing the same thing."
-Unknown

"Good communication is as stimulating as black coffee and just as hard to sleep afterwards." [TRUE STORY]
-Anne Morrow Lindbergh

"Don't speak unless you can improve on the silence."
-Spanish Proverb

"Never miss a good chance to shut up."
-Will Rogers

As far as progress in the secret lace department (oooh- scandalous!), there is none, unless you count the uncanny similarities relating to religion. Then again, going to church no more makes you a Christian than standing in a garage makes you a car.

In other news, I GOT A SCHOLARSHIP AT ACCOUNTING DAY!
Translation: I NO LONGER FEEL LIKE AN ABSOLUTE DRAIN ON MY PARENTS' RESOURCES!
And I finally finally finally feel like my hard work is paying off. Literally PAYING off. Accounting scholarships are based off of academics and not at all on your financial situation. Apparently, they see some potential in me.
Finally.

Yesterday I was in the kitchen eating a tangerine thinking about the antics of boys of a certain age, and I got that weird feeling that something was staring at me. I turn, and there are these two dead fish on the counter with their eyes looking right at me. It was creepy. One of my foreign roommates had left a couple of tilapia sitting out because I guess she had planned to cook it later.
But WHY do they have to buy the entire fish and not just the fillets? I'm not trying to be all crazy-vegetarian-PETA or anything, but when there's a face attached to it, you're going to have to chop it off and put it somewhere (unless you just really like to eat heads), and that's just unnecessarily disgusting.
In my opinion.
And then I finished my tangerine and went back to my room.

Remember trapper-keepers?

Here is a random picture that is a prequel to the next post. Its existence is explained there:


Everyone has a photographic memory. Some just don't have film,
T.T.

It's a definite maybe.

I read half of the book of Proverbs last night, and then I went to bed hoping that all of the wisdom and understanding would manifest itself in my mind during my REM sleep. I didn't have any weird dreams, though; I just woke up feeling very nervous and silly. Like usual.

Remember Mike Jones?

I am so glad that it is past tax day. There were so many people calling about their 1098-Ts trying to do last minute taxes last week. It got really annoying. I guess I'm starting my accounting career a little earlier than I thought. Bazinga.

Some day when I'm buying something at the store with my debit card and it says on the screen, "$7.48. Amount okay?" I want to push NO and see what happens. NO! This amount is NOT okay! I want it CHEAPER than that! There would be some raised eyebrows, I think.

Here's a true story:
I was walking by the IT building today where they have all the stupid Apple advertisements and one was all like, "Which Apple product are you?"
And I thought smugly to myself, "The suicidal one- hating every little metal and plastic component of myself."

I have evidence to back up my claims. Keep reading. (as if you wouldn't?)

This morning I got up early to study stat, marketing and configuration (which I only succeeded in my stat endeavors because playing guitar at 9 in the morning was a much more attractive idea. But anyway-). So I pulled out the old rusty iPad, dusted it off a bit, and connect to the Internet.
The goal: to view past homeworks on-line for review.

I hate how Apple thinks it's so much smarter than me. My log in name for the homework place is aj01829@gsu.edu, but Apple thought it was all cute to first, CAPITALIZE the first letter of the e-mail address and secondly, put a SPACE between the a and the j in the e-mail address. If I had wanted it that way, I would've put it in that way.
That's what she said.

So I finally log in, and I'm going to the homework page, and it says I need to disable my pop-up blocker. So I had to go look up how to disable my pop-up blocker since I have a tempermental keyboard on my iPad.
Finally, I get through to the page, and it's about to load, but then it says, "Hey! You can't view this without Adobe Flash! Install now!"
So I did.
Or I tried to.
Then it takes me to this dismal page which informed me that Adobe is not supported by the iPad, iPhone or iTouch.

Shocker.

Therefore, I was unable to review my homework from the comfort of my bed.
So if I do any worse on this test tomorrow in stat, I can blame it on my iPad.
But I'll have my lucky pencil with me, so I should be okay. ;)
And I have other less-sucky computers at my disposal on campus.

This week is pretty busy. Let's see:
Tuesday- meeting that you all don't really care about
Wednesday- doesn't really exist. If this were calculus, it'd be DNE.
Thursday- Accounting Day, also known as the most awkward day of the year! It's going to be like a seahorse trying to give a giraffe a hug. Like- can you even IMAGINE that? I haven't even been to this day before, but I can sense the awkwardness days away. I just have to prepare myself. At least I got out of making a speech. That was a close one.
Friday- volunteer opportunity that you don't really care about and then SAP which you (except you) don't know anything about.

And that's my very uninformative week.

But I'm doing Open Mic night again with Amanda! I like to do obscurer songs that no one really knows about because then if we mess up, the audience won't know it. I also like to invite as many people I know as possible to come so that the applause at the end is wild, and even if people don't think we're that great, the surrounding clapping and cheering will convince them otherwise. It's a business strategy.

I need thread. I might have to hit up Hobby Lobby this weekend to buy some things. Hobby Lobby is one of the few places in Statesboro that doesn't make me want to shoot myself in the face. Everywhere else, there is ALWAYS a screaming child or other unbearable phenomena- like shopping carts.
I HATE SHOPPING CARTS.
Yesterday I HAD to go to Wal Mart to buy things, but I was determined only to buy as much as I could carry. Unfortunately, I had to hold my milk for 20 minutes in line, but that's the price I'm willing to pay for not having a shopping cart on top of the price I'm already paying for groceries.
"Why are shopping carts so terrible?" you might ask.
1. They get you into traffic jams. Turns out the entire city of Statesboro has to buy peanut butter at the EXACT same time as you. Good luck getting through.
2. They have squeaky wheels. And then everybody and their third cousin can hear you coming.
3. They're bulky. And so when you're contemplating what soap you should buy, and someone walks by to contemplate the same thing, you have to like- HEAVE it over to the other side of the aisle, which still won't be enough room no matter how many shampoo bottles and condoms you knock over trying to be courteous.
4. They're unnecessary. Why doesn't Wal Mart have BASKETS like a normal grocery store? Seriously- I don't need to push around a 2 foot by 6 foot by 3 foot metal crate for dental floss, salsa, toothpaste, toilet paper, Draino, and bag of chips. But I can't carry it all. And so I have to get a cart. It's like freaking communism.

But anyway: Hobby Lobby reminds me of being in Warner Robins, and that's a good thing.

Hopefully, I'll get reelected for secretary today. I don't think anyone is running against me, though, so I'll just slide right into my incumbancy. I like it there. It's a warm, soft, eggy place. Like cake batter.

I have no pictures for you today, but I do have a joke:
Q: What happened to the butcher when he backed into his meat grinder?
A: He got a little behind in his work.

It's my sister's birthday.
*recognition and a moment of silence*
My other sister once told me that when you meet a goober, it'll change your life.

I can't wait,
T.T.

Yesterday's Grapes

I've been working on my album(s). I figured since I'm 20 now, I probably need to get this show on the road. I put the 25 songs that I've recorded so far (though only 3 out of that 25 are suitable for public hearing- I'm a perfectionist) onto my configuration flash drive, imported them all into iTunes, and have been listening to myself all afternoon. Turns out I'm one of my favorite artists. My sound is entirely my own, and I can relate to like- ALL THE LYRICS!
Does that make me arrogant?

Maybe.

So I need some cover art for my album "Close Only Counts". I should rephrase that: I need someone to take a sunny picture of me in a white dress with Errol Flynn*. Yes, I am actually connecting my face to my voice this time!

*Errol Flynn = the name of my Alvarez. You should start naming your favorite inanimate objects, too.

As far as a timetable for finishing recording, photoshoots, and marketing my product: my goal is this summer- right before my career smashes all of the creativity and free time out of me.

Sound good?
Yes.
That was a pun.
Just thought I should point that out.

In other news: LIFE IS GREAT!
I don't really feel 20, but I didn't really feel 19 either. Jacob asked me if it was going to be my 21st. This guy can seriously not keep up with numbers or time. For example, he thought Thanksgiving was in August. I kind of feel bad that I was the person that had to break it to him.

My life has gotten really epic and adventurous recently. I went to an opera last week, which was very atypical of me, but it was positively delightful dressing up for a night downtown. The opera itself? Far less delightful, yet still an adventure.

And then I've just been meeting and talking to people randomly. Here's a true story:
Last weekend, I went to the pool for swimming and tanning, or swanning, if you prefer. When I left the clubhouse, a black guy held open the door for me, so I said thank you and I walked away. So I’m walking back to my apartment, and I hear someone say, “You doing alright?” I thought it was the guy on the phone, but when I didn’t hear him say anything else, I turned around and he was actually talking to me.
Whoops.
“You’re talking to me? Yeah- I’m fine!”
And then he introduced himself as Stacy. And this is kind of bad, but sometimes I can’t understand what black people are saying. I think he mentioned something along the lines of exchanging numbers so that when “we” (meaning my wild self and my oh-so-gregarious roommates?) have parties, we can invite Stacy.
“Yeah, I don’t have parties.”
It’s true. Not since the SFC have I had parties.
I felt UBER lame saying it, though.

And another story:
I was drying dishes yesterday, and my African roommate comes and gets stuff out of the freezer and she says something like, "Do I hear you play music sometimes?"
"Yeah, that's me."
"I like hearing you- you have a pretty voice!"
And I was touched. Of course, I was drying dishes so I couldn't be too touched, but I mean, this girl can barely speak English and yet found a way to encourage me.
Awesome.

And then I'm doing super well in school- though I could swear it's the doing of my little green pencil. Either that thing is lucky, or I'm smart. And I know I'm not smart...

And then I have these awesome guy friends who will actually go OUT OF DOORS with me and DO things and they are smart and funny and DIFFERENT! And different in a good way not the your-haircut-is-different way. You know what I'm talking about.
And then there's the texting variable which has allowed most of this to take place...

Oh. My. Gosh. I am FINALLY enjoying college!
It only took me 2 YEARS, geeez.

I got yelled at for taking a long shower yesterday. Dad has now banned singing in the shower because it makes me dilly-dally. He is building me a pretty sweet sewing table, though, so it's the least I can do.

And he might not have been all wrong about the boy thing. Because after ruling out gay, married, and dementia (I love how that list juxtaposes all of those things) I explained the situation to him and he thinks it was a clarity issue, which makes sense, if you use boy logic.
Yes, boy logic.
The same kind of stuff that they used as reason in elementary school when all the taunting and pig-tail pulling meant that they liked you. And then again in high school when they would date your best friend in order to try to get to you (TRUE STORY, CORDOVA).
So that's what we're dealing with.
Boy logic.
It's brilliant.

Here's a little tidbit that I learned from Management:
Everyone brings a smile to your face;
some when they come, and some when they leave.

Also, my sister is HUGE:


















Next time I come home, I might just be an aunt.
Or, for some, an "ant", depending on from wherefore thou art.
Location, location, location.

And also lace,
T.T.

Koi Ponds

My modeling career is starting earlier than I thought.
That's such a Kelso thing to say.
Today we had a photo shoot at the office, and we student workers got to pose as model students after signing an anti-sue paper. I was photographed receiving a refund check and for loan counseling. Hopefully, my beautiful face will be plastered on enormous banners hung school-wide for freshmen at orientation so that I may haunt their dreams.

Too creepy?

Maybe. But that was the most exciting part of the day. Also, it's Student Employment Appreciation Week, so we get free ice cream tomorrow. Ballin'!

And here was the exciting part of yesterday:
CLEVE LET ME CUT HIS HAIR.
I couldn't believe it. And what's more unbelievable than the permission was the fact that I did a good job notwithstanding my lack of experience with boy hair.

Here are some pics:

Side:
















Back:
You can really see the cubicle shape here.

















Front:















"But didn't you guys like break up?"
MAYBE. But we're still best friends anyway.
AND I didn't make him sign an anti-sue paper.
I mean, that's what makes the sauce so awesome.

I've been swimming 1100 yards every day, so I've built up some muscle, but I eat like SO much cereal at night, and I'm really exhausted all the time. Today, I found out that my accounting class was cancelled, so I biked home after stat (around 9:50 am), ate some bread, drank some milk, brushed my teeth, and took a nap from 10-11. Then I got up and biked back to school, just in time for my 11:15 class.

It. Was. Awesome.
I should do that way more often. I mean, yeah, I got to class and I still had the wrinkled-sheet pattern on my arm, and I was as dazed as I was when I found out that the price of soft tacos had got up 10 cents at Taco Bell, but it was all good after a few minutes.
Sleep. Mmm. I miss it.

Original Apple Joke of the Day:
If my four-function calculator claimed to have Wi-Fi, it'd be an iPad.

In all seriousness, who's phone number is 541-864-1492?
They keep calling me and never leave messages.
Unrelated, but sort of related comment:
But today is a remarkable day; do you know why?
It is the last day that I will be without texting.
I know this is extremely exciting for some of you, but realize that there IS A LIMIT.
As x approaches y, the value is 250 per month.
Yeah, that was calculus. WHAT'S UP.
And no photo texting.
And don't send me dumb crap. Send me sagacious advice, side-splitting jokes, thoughtful encouragement, and true stories.
You know I like those true stories.
But no sexting- no matter how true it may be.
Ever.
It goes without saying, but I'm not fond of loopholes.
Or pantyhose.

What?

I told someone my secret, and I'm not sure how I feel about it.
He kind of guessed it out of me, but I was being coy. He was just emanating an aura of trust at the moment, and I can't tell a lie. I also can't keep my mouth shut, apparently.

But here are some cool lyrics from Eleni Mandell's Song "Girls":
"I am the marble the color of candy.
I'll make you money whenever you're gambling.
I am the dice you roll in the alley.
I am the pennies that come in handy."

I enjoy that.
I also enjoy hammocks, and bananas, but not banana-hammocks because those are disgusting.

Remember when swim team was the Love Team and everybody on there had something going on with somebody else? Maybe that's what made it so fun. Forget the swimming- it was about seeing how much water you could put in a swim cap before it broke and drawing on yourself with permanent marker. Then there was that old rickety bus where I carried out my "community service project", which was bringing brown acrylic paint to cover up the agriculture people's phallic graffiti. It was vandalism upon vandalism. And it was awesome. Then there was that time that James and I were talking about how good-looking we were, and we wrote down on a piece of paper what the other one was and then we switched and we had both put 7. Haha! And then once upon a time there was the guy named Sance, and Kylie and I kept up with "Sance Points". I was running around the pool to go tell Kylie I had just gotten some more Sance points, and I slipped and wiped out in front of the entire HoCo swim team.

Every now and then we'd race, and then we'd go out to eat.
It was a great experience.

Silly me,
T.T.

Playing With Mirrors

Today I got asked if I was on a diet. It was after I commented how Antwon always brings in food to work that smells really good. I mean, maybe I’m on a healthy diet, but it’s kind of been a life-long thing, so if I was off of it, I really don’t know what I’d be eating.

Probably fish food, which is much tastier than cat or dog food. I speak from experience.

So I went swimming last night in a lap pool for the first time in like a year, and it was shocking even to me that I used to be swim captain in high school. My muscle mass has gone BYEBYE, and my form is comparable to the way a giraffe comes out of the womb. Have you ever seen that? You should. It’s pretty amazing. But NOT when it comes to swimming form. I felt like I was swinging bags of sand around even though nothing but my hands were attached to my arms; I felt like I had acquired asthma or tuberculosis because I’m so freaking out of shape and breath, and my bathing suit rides up like super high, so I’m pretty sure I was mooning the whole gym on my flip turns.
HOW did I ever do this before????

SO: I am now determined to rebuild and get back to swimming oh, you know, 1800 yards a day. Instead of a weak 500. Swimming is for hotties. ;)

Here is proof:

















Just kidding. I only needed a new picture to put as a thumbnail for my blog advertisements. It's cheap marketing. MARKETING. GAH!

But this is why the subject of this post is what it is. It looks like there's 3+ of myself. And for me, that's a good thing.

And for the first time in like ever, my dad was wrong about something. I was like, “Dad, how do you know if a guy likes you?” And he was like, “I can tell by the way you’re asking that he already does.”

But it turns out that college isn’t 5th grade (even though I am taking management- BAZINGA!) and that even though a boy acts silly around you and writes you funny notes, he may “like” your personality, but not enough to actually want to hang out with you in his free time. He might as well be married.

Wasn’t it easier in your lunchbox days?

Yes, Taylor Swift, it really was.

Have you guys seen The Social Network? I was really expecting it to be a movie, you know, not a lawsuit. And I thought Mark Zuckerburg would be hot. At least Eduardo was until he got all douchey. Excuse my language, but if you watch the movie, you’ll see what I mean. Same thing with the Winklevoss twins. True story.

You know what else is a true story?
I’m coming home for my birthday! And I’m going to get my sewing machine, and I’m going to set it up here and I’m going to fix Antwon’s hoodie. He would’ve bought another one from the University Store, but they’re like $800,000 even when they’re 20% off, so that’s a bad deal. And then, I’m going to sew my own beautiful things here at college! But I’ll need supplies.
Enter: birthday money!
I actually did a cost analysis sheet (I’m such an accounting major), and I should be able to get everything I need for a little over $100. And if I time it right with some 40% off coupons, it should be even less. It’s like I’m genetically programmed to use coupons. Thanks, Mum.

I need more work-appropriate skirts. I have a lot of Little House on the Prairie skirts and a lot of girly minis that are cute for a Friday night outing, but not so much for the office. And I need a petticoat. Don’t ask me how this is relevant.

Did the tag on your hair dryer ever freak you out as a child? It was all like, “DO NOT REMOVE THIS LABEL OR YOU WILL DIE” and then it showed this life-threatening picture of a hair dryer hovering a bathtub filled with water and you’re all scared that one day you’ll get electrocuted. And then you watch the movie What Women Want which teaches you that doing so actually gives you magical mind-reading powers.

I wish I could read guys’ minds. Like seriously- climb up into their little attic upstairs (or the garret, if you prefer), go down the long hallway past the sports, and the food, and the video games and come to the filing cabinet where they think about me, if at all, and open it up and just read. And then I would know. How wonderful that would be.

Or easier scenario: if they’d just tell me a true story.

I wonder if we’re still doing the Five Jars of Mayonnaise (Cinco de Mayo) celebration with lemon drops and veggie burgers. It sounded like a good idea at the time. But then again, so did the iPad.

Sometimes I leave my iPad in the bathtub unattended with a hair dryer, just for the lolz.

I miss PEOPLE.
If one of the following nostalgic scenarios applies to you, then you are indeed loved and missed, in no particular order:

I want to play RCT on a rainy day and come up with funny names for rides and jack up the prices of umbrellas so that when it rains, we make bank.

I want to swim our awesome two-person medley relay and help you to buy a gallon of soon-expired skim milk for only $1. “ANNE…PERKINS.”

I want to write letters to a secret mailbox with leaky gel pens and take walks barefoot in the field and laugh about that time you wore Grinch socks when we danced the Charleston in front of our AP Lang class.

I want to go back to the lake and walking to the compost pile singing Regina Spektor and the fun summer times including that time you bought me a Route-44 size drink because it was only 20 cents more and it took me two hands to carry it and it didn’t even fit in the cup holders that your car DIDN’T have.

I want to play ring-toss and drink margaritas and then start playing well so that our team wins and then I get all silly, and you pick me up and carry me like you’re about to drop me in the pool, but then you don’t. And then my dad comes after me and does.

And, of course, it goes without saying that parentals and parentals^3 are loved and missed as well.

There’s just something about white button up shirts,
T.T.

Crosswalks

I cannot concentrate today. I am so distracted with life right now. My caffiene is on caffiene. I don't have one train of thought; I have a whole metropolitan subway station with trains that keep colliding into each other and destroying things.

And I have a secret.

But this post is not about said secret. I don't want you to know the secret, but I do want you to know that I have one, so this post will be laced with subtle hints about the secret.

"The edges of the burger will hang over the side of the bun, and people will like that."
-Dave Thomas; Wendy's training video

I think it would be awesome to have white hair when I'm old. I mean, silver is wise and all, but I think white is like the blonde of the senior generation. And you know what they say, whites have more fun.
(was that unintentionally racist?)

Have you ever wanted to say something, but you found that you just couldn't? Not because it wasn't true, but because you physically couldn't SAY the words?
I love divine intervention.
It's so wise.

I saw a shooting star last Friday night, which was pretty ballin'. I wished for something attainable but not by my own doing. It was a little lofty, but we'll see how it works out.
Lace, lace, lace.

I hate essay questions that ask me WHY I think I'd be a good candidate or WHY I should get scholarship. I just want to write, "Why shouldn't I?" They're the ones making the decisions. They should call the shots and eliminate on a negativity basis. For instance, "This person is not dead and has never been convicted of a crime: HIRED!"
Unfortunately, though, that would be lowering the bar. However, this phrase doesn't really make sense because if you lower the bar, and you're doing the Limbo, it gets harder instead of easier. Someone didn't take that into account. It was probably the same person who came up with the phrase "sub-par" to describe things that are less than average because anyone who's anyone and golfers (OH!! BURN!!!) knows that is not the case.

My coworker smells like a gas station.

Today, I was pulling my hair back into a ponytail, and the elastic snapped and shot across the room. Fortunately, no one saw, but the event was heart-rending. Since that was the only one I had and I forgot my brush this morning, I can't wear my hair down without looking like a blonde wooly mammoth (think about it), so I had to tie it back to itself and pull up my hair anyway.

And WHAT IS THE DEAL with people having the HEAT on???? Yes, I know it's cold in the morning, but after about noon, you should really turn it off and open a window or something. I was filing yesterday and about to faint because of it (which would've been an awesome way to complete that life goal) and the other lady in the office was just sitting there quite comfortably in long sleeves and jeans talking to one of her relatives on the phone.
The only thing that kept me going was being able to think about something else.
Lace, lace, lace.

A ranking of hugs (assuming you generally like the person which you are embracing):
Full frontal: 10
Bear hugs: 8
Car hugs: 7
Fellow-church-goer hugs: 4
Hugs to/from inanimate objects (like trees): 2
Side hugs: -1
Location, location, location.
Laaaaaace.

Mumford and Sons is the best. At first when everyone was OMG about them, I was like- whatever. But now, having a second listen, it's wonderful to my soul. "English folk rock" is how Wikipedia describes it.
How would I describe it? Well, let's just say that if I was a pirate, it would be what I would listen to on my ship.
Banjolins.

Pick out the true statement:
a. I have never been to a concert before.
b. I have never had a cavity.
c. I have never seen a horror film in a theatre before.
d. I have never broken a bone.
e. All of the above are true because this is a blog that speaks of truth.

Hint: pick E.
And there's some lace in there, too, if you didn't notice.

I think the person who invented car alarms was deaf. It has to be the only explanation of why someone would purposely create something so obnoxious.

Caleb says I would be a terrible salesperson. That's a true story. He said that after I ranted about how my iPad is more useless than the gum on the bottom of my shoe. At least I can stick a flash drive into the gum.
(BURN!!!!!! on Apple which is, according to Fortune magazine, the best company for which to work. But I don't like your inventions, Apple. I like your competition. MUAHAHA!)
Anyway... I would make a terrible salesperson because I am brutally honest and sometimes that's not the best way to get people to buy a product.
So we're doing this fundraiser in Accounting Association that involves selling COBA drawings to people graduating, and we were thinking up ways to promote it.
Aka: Marketing.
And you know my feelings about marketing.
So since it's a picture of a building, I was like- HEY! Let's put a picture of the building ON the building, and then another picture of the building on that picture.
It would've been an epic sort of vandalism.
Either go big or go home, know what I'm saying?
Lace? Only a little.

Is Dillon turning 25 or 26 today? I think it's 25. Ok, good.
Glucklicher Geburtstag!!!!!!

And remember- just because you make a perfect score on science portion of the graduation test doesn't mean that you should be a chiropractor.

Just thought I should point that out.

And it was not your fault but mine,
T.T.

Indifferent Graffiti

I laughed for like 5 minutes over this, and I was sitting on the floor with my laptop, so I was literally rotflmao.

Click to enlarge:

It stills gets me,
T.T.