Yeah for getting flowers from the skit and dance directors (even though we didn't go to finals.)
The house also has gotten flowers from a couple different frats on campus wishing us good luck and such. They happen to be frats we are considering pairing up with for Greek Week. Coincidence? I don't think so. The Pikes win anyway, they sent roses.
WARNING: CONTENTS ARE EXTREMELY SHALLOW AND GIRLY...MAY INDUCE HEADACHES AND/OR GAGGING. READ WITH CAUTION.
I think my favorite thing is having both classes cancelled in one day and an emal in hand that reads, "You have so much going on right now financially, why don't I pay for some new jeans for you? Love Mom." Ahhhh music to my ears..."Put it on the Visa." Is that angels singing or is it me?
So we head to the mall (which is always a happy time, anyway) and find aforementioned jeans ON SALE in a size that is tolerable (and a style that makes our butt look kinda cute rather than like the double bubble of trouble it has been resembling lately.) Then we meander into Payless Shoes, aka Heaven, and find cute cute cute knee-high boots on sale AND we acquire an adorable purse half-off with our purchase.
Let's recap: Mall trip on Mom, on-sale jeans, cute shoes, and cheap purse...Life is beautiful, you know.
Shopping therepy does wonders, and I am so easy to please. I swear, give me Mom's credit card, an eyelash curler, and 3" heels and I am a happy girl. And oooh, is that a sale at Vicky's?
Happiness is watching movies from a warm bed, having clean laundry and a clean room for the first time in three weeks, winning a football game against your school's arch rival, warm showers after a cold day, a balanced checkbook, and best of all, happiness is knowing that you will see your boyfriend every weekend in November.
Back in 1911 Mizzou was playing arch rival Kansas in the annual football game when the chancellor of the universtiy called the alumni back to support the Tigers, thus starting the tradition of Homecoming at Mizzou, as well as all across the country. This leaves us with just one question:
Do you know whow hard it is to get pomp glue out of your hair?
I sure do. We were fighting to get our house decorations done for the start of all of the Mizzou Homecoming festivities and we kind of got a little fiesty at the AgRho house last night. What started out as talking smack at the pomp board between sisters turned into an all out guys against girls pomp war that lasted for a good twenty minutes before work could resume. It got ugly, but we felt better after it was over. Somebody even pomped the AgRho's house dog.
I feel bad for whoever had to clean it up, though.
Picture this, fifty cranky sorority girls and forty tensed-out frat boys who have been working nonstop since Friday night to get this shit done, and can't stand each other anymore, and could really care less if the points of the pomps are lining up properly have now figured out how to fling the bastard pomp across the room at an unknowing target. This was trouble waiting to happen.
All the long hours and glue in my hair was well worth it though. Our house decs looked awesome and I cannot wait to watch my Tigers stomp the shit out of the kU Jayhawks. This reminds me...
What did the kU grad say to the Mizzzou grad?
Do you want fries with that?
After a weekend from hell (accurately dubbed Marathon Weekend), I am now done with the prelims for Homecoming skit competition. It was a good time, and we find out later tonight if we made it to the finals. I'm excited and nervous. Our skit is good, so let's hope the judges think so too.
I think the best part of the weekend though was getting pulled over Sunday afternoon for speeding. I got a whopping $90 ticket for doing 38 in a 20 on campus. Seriously people, who is on a college campus at 2:30 on a Sunday. Half this campus is still passed out then.
The only reason I was up was because I was on my way to dress rehearsal for skit. So, of course, I am in full stage makeup and costume as the lights go off in my mirror. Yeah, did I mention my costume includes fishnets and 3 inch heels?? I think the best time to get pulled over is, in fact, when you look like a hooker. And it ddidn't even do any good. I still got the frickin ticket. Well shit.
So anyway kiddos, wish me luck for finals and watch out for speedtraps.
Yesterday I got deferred at the Homecoming Blood Drive because my iron was at 35%. This is bad. Being severely iron ddeficient, I thought that I had engineered a foolproof plan to testing well in the iron department. Last week I went on a strict regime of red meat, brocoli, and at least four One-A-Day vitamins a day.
FYI, this doesn't work.
But that don't get me down, yo. I gots obligations to my house, yo. And that's some heavy shit. Yo.
The regime continued well into this afternoon because I have a dream that one day I will be able to give blood. One day my test droplet will sink in that blue shit like a fucking rock. One day my sample won't have to get spun to be tested further. One day I will be able to OD on multi-vitamins and it won't be in vain. One day I too, will save three lives AND one day I will get to wear a sticker that says "Be nice to me, I'm a pint low."
But that day is not today. After a cheeseburger, three helpings of brocoli, a gallon of orange juice, two bowls of MultiBran Chex, five One-A-Days, and beef ravioli for dinner, my iron only went up one lousy percentage point. I got deferred AGAIN.
But the fun part was watching a girl pass out because she saw someone else get stuck with a needle. It was precious.
Interior Design sucks. I am sick of doing drafting assignments that just lead to me getting yelled at and crying in class. I'm sick of researching lighting and lightbulbs on the internet for hours on end. I'm sick of spending hundreds of dollars in Student Charge at the bookstore for sheets of vellum and eraser refills.
I want papers and reading assignments and lecture halls and blow-off classes and Thursday night barcrawls.
I'm quitting school. Screw it. I'm done. I want a career that requires no schooling. No tests, no projects, no tuition, no whiny advisors saying "I'm sorry, but you don't meet the required pre-requisites to enroll in that course. You'll need an override."
I'm going to be a pirate when I grow up. Or a princess. Maybe a pirate princess. Now there's a career path after a girls heart. All the pillaging and burning and bounty a girl could hope for...plus a tiara.
When I was little I wanted to be the sun. That's right...the big and hot and shiny center of the solar system. Between the ages of two and six, this seemed an ideal lifestyle for me. I wonder if there are any job openings in that now? I could major in Global Illumination.
If anyone knows any good Mafia mobster jokes or one-liners that could be used in a skit for Homecoming competition, they would be greatly appreciated. Our script blows big time chunks right now (or pukes tits, in Babs-speak.)
Today (well yesterday technically) was my 20th birthday. As I have come very quickly to realize, the most pointless birthday ever. Quite possibly, the most pointless since 19. But the good part is that I am no longer a teenager and I now have less than a year until the Big One. Then I can do legally what I've been doing anyway since I was 16.
I love birthdays though. Really, they are like your own personal little holiday where everyone has to be nice to you and get you presents. What's not to love? I kind of miss the old days when everyone brought cupcakes and stuff to school and everyone dropped everthing for the afternoon. You know, I think old people dislike their birthdays not becuase they are old but because there are no more fun parties and treats. If there was cupcake potluck and a break at the watercooler in the middle of the afternoon in the office world, people would just be happier in general. I mean, picture me...I got flowers and candy and attention and dinner and wine and love from everyone. Wouldn't you be happy if you were me? I think so.
20 is cool, even if it doesn't mean much numberwise.
Is it normal to start crying while walking to class because you see a guy who looks exactly like one of your boyfriend's roommates who you saw this weekend while hanging out at said boyfriend's house for a tailgate barbecue? or is it normal to break down in the middle of a drafting assignment because it is "just too hard" and your instructor keeps giving you "mean" looks? and is it normal to have a strong desire to drive the three hours to home as fast as your Honda Civic will carry you so that you can get a hug from your mom?
I have realized that I have gone from being selectively deep to not deep ever. I have lost my depth, shallow as that depth may have once been. Granted, it was more baby pool than 12 foot diving well, but now I fear that I'm not even splashing around in a plastic kiddie pool that's half full of hose water.
Just this morning I heard the phrase, "Really, what is she thinking" come out of my mouth in a serious conversation about fall footwear. That's right folks, I had a deep and meaningful discussion about the many merits and uses of clogs and pointy-toed ankle boots. Before you know it I'm going to be worshiping Reese Witherspoon and saying "HI!!!" to everyone I know on campus while I identify myself with a signature color and plan my wedding to Justin Timberlake...because, you know, he's dreamy.
But I don't know how to fix this. I'm not an angsty person, but at least I used to have a vocab beyond cuss words and giggle noises. I blame the Greek system. There is something about living with 89 other females that has robbed me of all logic and reason. My roommates and I even had a pillow fight last night before bed. And then we had a discussion about how we need to find fall party dates who would buy all of our drinks all weekend because "that's just how it should work," and "girls should never have to buy their own alcohol."
I wake up to a screaming alarm noise in the hall, but being that it is 6 am, I am willing to ignore this. Unfortunately, one of my roommates is a little psycho about fire safety. She hauls ass out of the top bunk faster that I thought humanly possible (and even faster than the time when Kayla figured out how to roll her out of the top by kicking on the mattress from the bottom bunk.) So then Fire Marshal Roommate starts yelling for us to hurry. She wouldn't even let Kayla go back for her glasses.
"No glasses! No flip flops! No sweatshirts! JUST GO DOWNSTAIRS!!!"
So I assist my half blind roommate downstairs and outside. There were firemen in the house, which I wasn't expecting. And all 89 of us get to stand on the sidewalk in front of our house at 6 am and wait for the "all-clear." The guy driving the garbage truck down the street must have really enjoyed it. I bet we looked real cool.
I think the funniest thing about it was Blind Kayla tripping over things and running into people. At one point while we were waiting, a group of ROTC joggers came down the sidewalk, and of course all the girls were hooting and hollering at them. Kay was like, "What is everyone yelling about?" and almost got run down. I just barely pulled her out of harms way. I swear, she almost died.