Duck, duck, goose

I have a few hours to kill before I go to class. It's not my favorite class for many reasons (boring subject, boring teacher, boring teacher that always takes attendance so it's impossible to skip without notice, etc). But one thing that really bothers me is the fact that we sit in a circle.

If we sit in rows, I'm just staring at the back of the head of the person in front of me. But in a circle, I start seeing more things. I'll notice how one girl has an adorable purse, another girl has cute shoes, and then I start thinking about shopping and stop paying attention to the discussion about Greek mythology.

Plus, I just feel all self-conscious, like everyone is looking at me. And then I start singing (in my head) Britney's "Circus." All eyes on me in the center of the ring just like a circus... And if you think I'm going to stop singing in order to listen to the talk about various gods and goddesses, you're wrong.

Stop it, already

I hate the word "hubby." Haaate. "Hubby" is the same number of syllables as "husband," therefore shortening the word is pointless. "Hubby" sounds like something a thirteen year old would say. ("My hubby sent me a note asking me if I loved him, I'm going to check yes!") This word irritates me so much I involuntarily tense and roll my eyes whenever someone says it (which can be bad if I'm in public). So please, stop it, already.

Also, stop using "preggers." Say it with me, now: "pregnant." You know, that condition a woman is in when she's growing another person inside of her, the person that she's going to be responsible for raising to be a respectable adult. Step one in that process is embracing the word "pregnant."

And finally, don't use "vacay," ever. I know this text-messaging world we live in has promoted abbreviations, but if you're speaking to me, take the extra split second to say the word properly, please. Because if you don't, I can promise you my reaction won't be pretty.

Let's talk turkey

Food. Chips, chocolates, cheese, I'm hungry for it all. Why, I don't know. I haven't been exercising more, so I haven't been burning extra calories. Yet I still feel the need to stuff my face. I have been trying to cut back on my sugar intake. Everyday as I buy my lunch I pass the rows of candy with a look of longing. You don't know how bad I want to run across campus and buy some damn M&Ms.

Have you seen the Weight Watchers commercial with the furry little Hunger creature? He comes around, offering women pizza and doughnuts, only to be rebuffed. I'm here to say that Hunger can come hang with me if he's going to bring shit like pizza with him. If I can get him to pick up a six pack of beer, too, we're definitely good.

And what about those commercials that claim that chewing gum can curb your hunger cravings? Yeah, total bullshit. I've been chewing Doublemint like there's no tomorrow, and my belly still rumbles in protest. In fact, it's rumbling right now. So, excuse me, I have to go find something to munch on.

What happens when the internet is down

We've been having crazy issues with the internet for the past week. The worst was last Tuesday when it was down for nearly 24 hours. I was so bored, I actually played Spider Solitaire. I still kick ass at that game, by the way. Also, I wrote a song. I actually do this quite often--make up silly lyrics to the tune of popular songs. This one is to the tune of Kelly Clarkson's "Since U Been Gone"

here's the thing, you started out fast
should've known it would never last
yeah yeah, since u been gone

i was dedicated, i took my time
but it wasn't long til i called you mine
yeah yeah, since u been gone

and all you'd ever hear me say, was how you were my favorite thing
that's all you'd ever hear me say

but since you've been gone,
i can read for the first time,
my homework is done, yeah, yeah
thanks to you, i will get, i'll get a good grade
since u been gone

how can i put, you turned me on
to a world of blogs and downloading songs,
yeah yeah, since u been gone

how come no one has fixed you yet?
i guess they just don't know
without you, days go by so slow

but since you've been gone,
i can read for the first time,
my homework is done, yeah, yeah
thanks to you, i will get, i'll get a good grade
since u been gone

i gave it a chance, i blew it
out of sight, not out of mind
please come back, i need to check my email
again and again and again

but since you've been gone,
i can read for the first time
my homework is done, yeah yeah
but i'm bored, very bored,
you should know, that i'm bored
since u been gone
since u been gone

I believe in yesterday

My mother has been dead for four years. I never quite know how to handle the anniversary of her death. My sister gets moody, sometimes just on the twelve of any month, not just February. But I don't understand why I should get mad or upset on that day. Every day I feel the weight of her death; it's never off my shoulders. I don't want to focus on the day that she spent in a hospital bed, brain dead, unable to breathe on her own. I want to remember how she lived her life, not how it ended.

I remember warm summer days when we would have marathon Monopoly games. Later, we'd go out in our pool, and I would perform tricks while she would pretend to be a judge scoring my moves. I remember cooking with her in the kitchen; she baked biscuits, and I would always use the cutter to form perfect round shapes. She would let me have the leftover dough to play with, and I created little biscuit faces to cook. As I got older, I got to really cook, and with her guidance baked pies and cakes. I remember being unable to sleep in the middle of the night, and how she sat with me and we talked until I was finally able to sleep. I remember the familiar game we would play: "Do you love me?" I would ask. "With all my heart and soul," she always replied.

I miss her more than I will ever be able to express. But I know that she's not really gone; she will always live on through me. I see the brown in my hazel eyes, and I know that is from her. I look at my hands and know that hers looked so much like mine, large and full, yet delicate. When I'm babysitting Nathan and I feel my patience wearing thin, I find a resolve to work through it, and that patience is undoubtedly inherited from her. She is here, in every breath I take.

My mother was the strongest, most incredible woman, and I can only hope that I can grow up to be like her. I often wonder what I would be like now, if she were still here to guide me to being a better adult. But I know I'll never have those answers. I can only be grateful that I had eighteen years to get to know her, and have eighteen years of memories to hold on to tightly now that I can no longer hold on to her.

Oh, the problems of womanhood

I think when other girls were learning how to apply eyeshadow and foundation, I was busy learning about double dribbling and offensive rebounds. This is the only explanation as to how I, at the age of 22, still have problems applying makeup properly.

I guess technically this could be blamed on my mom. Growing up, the only makeup I saw her wear was blush, mascara, and lipstick. Who knows if she ever wore more makeup than this, or if this was the regimen she had time for as a busy mother of two with a full-time job. But her philosophy of makeup is the one I subscribe to--just the basics, please.

It's always worrying for me as I put on eyeshadow that I'm putting on too much, or the colors won't match, or whatever. I wind up debating in my head, "Does this purple eyeshadow look pretty, or like I've been punched?" Seriously, I think about this way more than I should. Ultimately, though, I put my worries behind me. I'm 22 years old: there's going to be no better time in my life to wear purple eyeshadow, so I might as well seize the day.

Really? REALLY?

My neighbors have blasted Meredith Brook's "Bitch" three times in a row. I really want to tell them that it's not 1997 anymore.

How come I can remember all the lyrics to this song, one that I haven't heard in ages, and yet I can't remember facts from my classes? You know, the stuff I actually need to know in order to graduate? I wish I could major in Useless Pop Culture Trivia.

I enjoy the taste of crow

Mother nature decided to prove me wrong by dumping snow on us last night, causing classes to be canceled today. I'm thrilled to have the time to stay in and relax, especially since it's incredibly cold out right now. Also, my teacher pushed back the due date to our paper from Monday to Wednesday, which is a huge weight off my mind.

Last night everyone was pretty much operating on the assumption that we wouldn't have classes today. By midnight my roommate was going to work on an art project, and I was in bed watching Friends. I figured at 12:30 I should start trying to go to sleep, but it was hard because of my suitemates. The sound of their talking was carrying through their closed door, through the bathroom, and through my closed door. They are the loudest talkers I've ever encountered. The only way I could block out their noise enough to go to sleep was when the heat came on.

I woke up around 5:30 and realized my roommate was in the room asleep. This means I did not wake up when she came in the room, so I'm glad it was her coming in and not a rapist or robber. By 7:30 I had woken up and called the school's snowline to see if we had classes. Upon hearing they were canceled, I muttered a "thank God," and rolled back over for some more sleep.

Bitch bitch bitch

I take back what I said in my last entry. Dammit, I want to bitch, and here's a good place to do it.

My roommate's not here right now, but that didn't stop one of her friends from knocking on the door and then coming in two seconds later. It's a good thing I wasn't naked or anything. I believe that what she did was totally rude unless she knew that my roommate was here to receive her. You don't just walk into someone's room without permission, especially when that person has a roommate!

And I'm mad as hell about the weather. We've had lots of snow showers, but they've amounted to exactly jack shit. If the snow's not going to lay and get me out of class, then it can just go the fuck away. Fuck this late start schedule bullshit. Either cancel classes or have them on regular schedule.

As I'm typing this, my suitemate and her friend are in the bathroom talking about how they can't find anyone to supply them acid right now. Oh, boo hoo! My heart breaks for you! It's just so hard to find good help in the drug trade these days.

Now that I've written all of this out, I feel much better. Behold, the power of bitching.

If you don't have anything nice to say...

I'm feeling very down in in the dumps today. I'm not sure why. I had fun last night watching the Super Bowl with friends, and I was pulling for the Steelers, so I'm happy they won. But today, I'm just...blah.

It could be hormones. It could be the weather (rainy and chilly). It could be that it's February, which means it's been four years since my mother died. I don't know. I do know that all I want to do is sit here and eat junk food and do nothing for the rest of the day, but unfortunately I have to haul my ass to economics this afternoon. That class always seems to last SO LONG. And we're getting back reports today, which I think I probably didn't do so well on.

Since I can't come up with anything remotely positive to say, I'm not going to say anything at all.