on Smores

Graham crackers are just the snack to cheer a kid up; throw in some chocolate and we'll have a party, but melt everything down with a marshmallow, and you'll be sending your kid to get their cholesterol checked out before they turn eight.

Smores - I just cringe at the word. Camp fires are great! You shiver and convince yourself that the fire you are dangerously close to is actually warming you up, which in reality, there is no longer any hair on your knuckels and your back facing away from the fire has just welcomed the next Ice Age. 

And, not to forget mentioning that every article of clothing worn near the fire will make you smell like a smoke house until you jump into the freezing cold lake the next morning because all you could smell throughout the night was baked ham; let's face it  -- all camp fires smell like baked ham, I don't know why, and smoked ham does smell good, but not as a walking, talking, knuckle-hair freed person. Maybe that is where the term, "honey" in "hello there honey" was first applied. The men can't help it but think of honey-baked ham as they greeted their partners. Stretching it a little?

I just caught the rabbit.
Smores. The point I'm trying to make is that graham crackers should be be graham crackers. Chocolate should be chocolate. And marshmallows should be marshmallows. Individually, they are superb, but mix them together, and the awesomeness just might light your world a fire and send you into some form of a sugar coma - the kind that makes you want to eat Slim Jim Tabasco-flavored beef jerky and capers just to counter the taste.

This is how I eat a Smore:
1. take all of the chocolate and stash it for later.
2. light the marshmallow on fire, let it burn for a few so it is nice a crispy.
3. eat char-grilled marshmallow.
4. play with fire (inner pyro)
5. take fire and light other things on fire - leaves, other food items, leg hair, etc.
6. slowly eat chocolate as embers dull.
7. eat graham crackers for breakfast.

Take it or leave it, but at least think about it, and in your case, forever smell like ham. 

that awkward moment... :elbows

Hashtag...

that awkward moment when only your elbows are peeling because they got burned while you were on Spring Break, a week ago.

Club dei Brutti

The Italian Club dei Brutti is the World Association of Ugly People. I viewed a film on this club during my high school career and immediately desired to join my comrades. 


Their motto is "A person is what he is and not what he looks like," and has the approach of "Ugliness is a virtue, beauty is slavery."


As my roommate and I stood before the bathroom sink mirror this morning, we looked at ourselves and asked, "why are we so ugly?" We had not yet gone through the make-up lathering ritual, and officially coined the phrase, "rough." This phrase can be used as in, "looking rough, we are looking rough, and tough and rough."


At least we have each other. 


You are unique, along with everyone else. You are ugly, along with everyone else. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. What is beauty. What is true beauty. Can it ever be true. And in it's untruthfulness, is that what makes something beautiful, because it is "rough" around the edges. It has character.


Well, as we were walking around campus to get our exercise and pursue the explosion of thoughts and this issue among many others, I found several charming, un-beautiful things. And for that, they were beautiful.

Please contact me if any of these belong to you. And for now, I'll hold onto them for safe keeping.

They hold sentimental value and whatnot in my pocket.

cockroach in salad

As I approached the salad bar to take an orange or ten, a girl walked past, and in a voice that was barely audible, almost surreal, remarked, "Don't eat the salad; there is a cockroach in there."

How alarming was I to face this reality. I convinced myself that despite the diseases that could be carried by these creatures, they are a small source of protein - although, I'm not paying for unclean food...

So, I sit here and eat my salad, with this grotesque image embedded in my memory, of a lovely little bit of protein waltzing around in my salad greens.

Take it or leave it, but at least compare your healthy desires with the lesser ones and make an executive decision on which evil of the two you will choose: fried grease or unclean healthiness.

Hole punch, a college investment

Of everything that I brought with me to college,  few objects seem to surpass all others.

I'd have to say the following are:
hole punch
Hamilton Beach tea kettle
free O'Henry's Coffee cup

Sustainability, durability, and resourcefulness are the keys here. I did have a nice digital watch for awhile, but it apparently didn't look feminine-like, so I haven't worn it since. It's true though, and even though I bought it because of it's durable appearance, sleekness, and digital aspect, looming judgment of my peers swayed my decision. I secretly still keep it in my backpack. But why wear a watch when I have a cellphone that has the time anyways? That's all I really use my cellphone for anyways because I can't upload pictures anymore; I only call home; and the people that I need to be texting are always right beside me anyways.

Thus begins the quest for a feminine-looking durable and antique/classy watch.
Pinterest has helped me in this search; if anyone has $175 to spare, give me a ring, because you'll be the first outside of my family to call me on my time-keeping cellphone.

I use the hole punch more than I use my Chacos.
I probably boil the water 9 times a day so that the 5 times that I actually have tea, the water takes less time to boil because the water is already warm from the last time I boiled it. Semi-hot water always has to be on standby in our joint.
At the beginning of my freshman year in college, I was given a coffee cup, and it has lasted me since. It is quite nice, and I'd love to be a freshman again  just for the free stuff everybody hands out.

Take it or leave it, but at least know, that if anything, there is nothing like a college student strung out on coffee-to-go with all of his papers hole-punched.

Becquer: Haiku

on Becquer
El alma sufre
percepcion corre, pues
el cuerpo suena.


on Avellaneda
Mariposa de
mi alma tranquila esta
fantasma bello.

Those terrible days

My terrible days are Tuesdays and Thursdays.

I gauge the terribleness by the length, work that is due, and people I will be around.

Not only was today bound to be terrible, but the lack of sleep had to have accounted for the great expectation that it would be, in fact, a very terrible day.

These days are so terrible, in fact, that I dread waking up to them, thus, ensuing that I will wake up extra early just so I my mind can anticipate their terribleness. As much as I love going to bed at 1am and body clock waking myself up at 5am, and my class doesn't begin until 8:30am, my day doesn't end just there: I have work and two more classes to get through until 5pm, when at that time, I will be the first in line for dinner in the Caf.

What do I do to get through these terrible days? I dress up. I try to present myself with a look of care, and my own self-study has proven that my mood picks up, and I tell myself, "if all else fails, at least I didn't let myself go." But by then, it is the end of the day, and I'm looking rough, real rough, but the concept of confidence remains.

I will always be assured that these days will be terrible. I will always be assured that if I expect these days to be absolutely terrible, then they will most likely turn out okay, and I will be pleasantly surprised. 

I can always count on it being a little cooler in the mornings; I can always count on the sun setting in the evenings, and I can always count of a promise of tomorrow. Will I then live today for tomorrow, and tomorrow, I will live for today?

The birds will always chirp, even though not necessarily the same birds.

Terrible days aren't too terrible. Every little sweet thing will come as a pleasant surprise, and every little terrible thing will not change a thing because everything is already terrible.

Terrible will not make terrible more terrible. And simplicity will make terrible more terrific.

And without you, today's emotions would be the scurf's of yesterdays. 

3OH!3

3OH!3

The band name throws me off every time.
Like, how am I supposed to say it when I read it?
Three. O. H. Exclamation Point. Three.

It's a tough one that I apparently struggle with.

Ice Heist

We were sent on a mission to find ice for the Spanish Club meeting. We considered the Caf; however, you know how that goes.

So, we ventured up the hill to our old freshman dorm where we knew there was an ice machine. A quarter of a mile later, and a tiring hike up the hill, we found our targets. We followed two unsuspecting girls right through the side door and located the ice machine.

We sanitarily stuffed our plastic Wallmart bags with ice. Loads of ice. We busted through the doors, our hands beginning to bite the frost, and we headed back to the party. After 3 minutes of walking, half of the ice had melted and we questioned our outlook on life.

People did judge us indeed. But our heist was a success, and that is all that mattered.

We heisted ice. We are con-artists in the making. We have ice.

Yes, during my first months as a freshman in college, I was afraid of pickpocketers. Notice, I still never leave my Vera id/wallet to reserve my seat at the table when I go get food because of this great fear: fear of the knowledge I have because of my personal observations of other heisting and would not like to be the target.

I would like to, as a social experiment, go around the Caf and take backpacks, wallets, cellphones, and whatnots just to prove how easy it is. People are too trusting. Trust no one. Except me, because I have a huge conscience. Except when it comes to food that I've already paid for, then I'd be more than happy to take a few extra bagels, bananas, and cookies to go.

Take it or leave it, but at least think about it when you leave your things with your "fellow comrades and fellow students."

The Grind

Well folks, it looks like it is back to the grind for me. And when I say "grind," I mean it literally because I'm on my third cup of coffee for today, and it's only the first day back to school.

I tried the whole, after I had 9 cups of coffee that one Thursday the week before midterms I decided that it would be in my best interest to drink only water from then on out, and then all of Spring Break I drank Earl Grey and ocean water.

And it's not like I really like coffee, and the coffee that I drink is literally the crappiest because I have some Folger's instant with no milk so I cringe every time I take a sip, but it must have this psychological draw on me because just absolutely "can't say no," to coffee that is.

So, I am back to the grind, literally. (coffee grinds that is)

Obligatory Post: Nothing

This is the obligatory post.
I am much obliged to post at this time because it is the time before The Time: purposeful endeavors.

We have had a fun in the sun during Spring Break; we have done our incredibly ridiculous amounts of homework; we are in the doldrums; we have hit the middle-age spread.

We have plenty of things to do, no doubt about that: cards to write, books to read, poems and history dates to memorize, music to steal, floors to vacuum. But are we? No. We are doing nothing. This is why we need accountability, graded projects, and future income in mind.
"There is always room for improvement.... room for someone to improve upon us...."

We have had our fun doing NOTHING. Now, let's get something done.
I am looking forward to studying in the library again. Although when I am actually studying in the library again, I have no doubt that I will be looking back upon this exact moment wishing I had savored it more. But there is only so much Nothing one can do before you go mad.

You can only Facebook, Pinterest, clean, organize your life, socialize, and take pictures of stuffed cats around your school's campus so much before you just have to take a shower, lie in bed, and stare at the bug you had squashed and left on the ceiling above. You begin to make lists, compartmentalize, and freak out about all of the things you have yet to do, and then you realize that these things can only happen in due time, and they will, happen in due time that is.

To end this fantastic blog post about Nothing, I leave you with this quote to take and think about:

"The only reason for time is so that everything doesn't happen at once." - Albert Einstein

Also, see the grand post about another Nothing here: http://www.takeitorleaveitbutatleastthinkaboutit.blogspot.com/2012/01/doldrums.html

May the evens be ever in your favor

Heads/Tails

Odds/Evens

I always pick up a penny if it is tails up. In fact, I always call "tails."

We had been shopping for a good two hours, and I hate shopping. If I want something, I will add it to my list, and then get in and get out. No lingering, no wasting time looking at things I will never buy. Such a frustrating pastime. 

A nice book break in the sun while the others were shoe shopping, and as I kicked off my sandals and rested my hand on the picnic table, I felt the intense heat of the metal object on my hand. I glanced down to see a penny placed in a perfect position in front of my chair, tails up. I send my gratitude to the thoughtful stranger.

I blissfully pocketed the quaint fortune.

Do two odds make an even?

Were you ever addicted to Even Stevens as a child?

May alternating odds and evens be in your favor, then you will have a fortune!

Boys, Can't Even Count Them

We set about making our lists, lists of all the boys we knew and the potentials.

Slim pickings considering we attend Samford and are not in sororities.

After we barely lifted all of the fingers (almost ten!), thanks to Samford's ratio, we concluded that our best bet was to attend other people's weddings, join a social dance club, and buy a golden retriever (guys like to run with dogs right?).

Should have joined a sorority.
Commiserating together, we anticipate our futures and question our self-worth as we eat left-over corn pancakes and watch the storm blow in across the harbor.

pathetic fallacy, who are we ye existentialistmatics, prayer circle, crashing waves, and king mackerels

The Hunger Games

Those devilish little creatures burying themselves under sand by day and scouring the beaches by night. What must one do to capture these fellows?

Spears, pitchforks, and nets in hand, we meticulously combed through the washed-up seaweed.
After 20 minutes of tiring work, we concluded that our searching location was not, in fact, the location of the crabs.
And all of a sudden, out of the corner of my eye, the devilish little creature - Banksia Men-like crab dashed out from the side of one of the heaps of seaweed.

Screams and yelps of joy abounded in the hasty pursuit, and the crab that was later named "Raphael" would be taking an elevator ride to only be carefully observed by five girls, slightly tortured in attempts to feed the poor little hairy fellow, and then released back into the wilds of the beach by night.

Crab hunting was a success; had we caught more, we could have had a few decent hors d'oeuvres.

So, while everyone was watching The Hunger Games premiere, we were Hungry too - for crab catching games.

Take it or leave it, but at least think about lending me a copy of The Hunger Games so I can participate in the general hype with you.

Raphael Ante-Release

 

Photo Credit: Cara

Old People at the Beach

I absolutely love old people at the beach.
They are so lovely; holding hands, slowly making their way across the treacherous dunes.
They do not speak. All they have to do is hold hands. They have this wise understanding, a certain aura about them. It is almost as if they have, and probably have, walked the beach many times in their lifetime, and they just know. I don't know what they might know, but it is something quite remarkable. They are taking in the beauty of the ocean, that same beauty they have hundreds of times before, and they are taking it in together. The ocean is too beautiful for words, so they do not speak.

I have been watching this one couple in particular for quite some time, and they just know. It is almost as if the ocean makes everything right, their understanding is beyond words, and there is nothing pithy or distracting in this noisy world to taint the beauty that they possess. Only the ebb and flow and crashing of the waves, the wind blowing their grey hair, the deep crevices of their wrinkles contrasting with their glowing-still-in-love faces.

Beautiful. Old people are beautiful, especially on the beach. Maybe only on the beach.
One day when I'm older, I either want to be an Italian grandmother cooking for my large family with my hundreds of bambino grandchildren running around throwing olives at each other, or I want to be on the beach, with my wrinkles glowing. I might even have a purple rinse in my grey hair, like Mrs. Sloakum.

 

 

Fush & Chups: On Cannibalism

I just wanted some decent fish and chips. Now, nothing beats Doyle's' take-out at Watson's Bay, Sydney, Australia, but when in Rome, I'm at the beach, and I presume that there are plenty of fish to go around.

I peruse the menu - again and again. I check for the third time, and nowhere are there just plain-ole fish and chips. So I ask the waitress, "Can I just get some fish and chips?"
"Honey, you can get some kids fish sticks and order a separate order of french fries."
Not the same thing.
I was livid. I would have killed for some fish and chips. Steam was coming out of my nose and ears. I was ravenous and I was enraged, furious. "fish sticks and separate order my..."

So I went for the fried shrimp. Now, I've only been eating sparse amounts of seafood for a little more than a year now, and the shrimp still freaks me out; however, if it is fried, I'll go for it. And of course, if I am on the water.

Landry's at Kemah, Texas is another great place for some good Fish and Chips.
Zeke's Fish and Chips in Fort Worth, Texas is okay, but pricey and not that sanitary. It's just really popular.
And apparently there is another great undercover fish and chips shop across from the Pier 1 on Hulen/Bryant Irvin near the Costco. Apparently it is the new family hang-out. In Texas. I'm not in Texas, obviously.

I miss me some Watson's Bay. I don't necessarily miss the seagulls, but I do miss the shark and the view of the Harbour. Oh, and what a nice walk it is up from the wharf to the south head facing the Pacific.

Where can I find such beauty? None can compare.
I miss my Nana and Dan Dan. Distance sucks. I'm going to watch Finding Nemo now. Or Bondi Rescue.

FUSH AND CHUPS

Those blasted seagulls "mine mine mine"

 What a view!

 sand or park bench, your choice

 talk about fish with other avid fish and chips goers

 stand in line forever for the fish that's worth a wait

 never tasted better, seagull-proof in the making

 North Head and South Head

Battery Acid - Something You Shouldn't Swallow

I have a habit of being overly ambitious and overly confident sometimes, like when I wore my teddy bear Christmas shirt in October, twice, or like such a time as now, when I went about licking things as usual.

I thought it was crystallized sand - but it turned out to be crystallized battery acid. It did not taste like salt, and did I learn my lesson? Probably not. But I keep telling myself that I've been pepper-sprayed in my own car WHILE I was driving it, so I'll most likely survive whatever unfortunate situation I happen to unfortunately and inevitably create anyways. There is always hope for survival; sometimes the process is just a little more difficult. Hello self-sufficiency.

As I chugged a cup of milk, I realized how much I really wanted some brownies to go with the milk. If you give a mouse a cookie... Apparently battery acid = brownies. I'm down for that.

Take it or leave it, but at least think about it the next time you think you are so brilliant and go around licking things, and make sure that you have a gallon of milk on standby.

Strangers on the Beach

We are taking "cutesie" photos at sunset.

AND people start bothering us. Boys in particular. They pull the whole, "can we take your photo, so what are your names, where are you from, what are your names again, how long are you staying, what is your social security number?" and whatnots.

"Are you all seventeen?" they ask.
Sketchy.
"We are young-looking thirty-year old's and we have mace, but yes, we would love for you to take our photo."

"Oh, you own the beach chair rental company, and you are offering us free beach chairs for tomorrow!"

"Well, that does absolutely nothing for us because we are poor college students and can only be enticed by food, maybe, but we are glad your name is James, and we are glad to know that that is your roof over that sand dune over there, and we are glad that you run daily on this beach, have a nice life."

So there you have it. If you have a nice 'ole bucket of KFC in hand or a spear ready for spear fishing, then we might be interested in taking the bucket and spear from you, otherwise, please don't bother us.

Hashtag, no one is ever that randomly friendly you machismomatic beach-goers.
Just leave us alone.

The icing on the cake: As we were driving away to go back to school, James dashed in front of our car a ways down the road, and we yelled a nice "adios James" as we passed by.

\http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JHplGM7rM64

Burn Notice

I lather up my sunscreen in a very methodical way, a very tedious task indeed. Nevertheless, it must be done.

What did I miss? you may ask.

My elbows, my bellybutton, the insides of my ears (yes, the insides), and my Popliteal Fossas (the backs behind the knees).
It burns. The sun will find way to the most obscure crevices that you never knew existed. Beware.

Take it or leave it, but at least wear it - sunscreen that is.

Friends, Floridians, and Beach-bums, lend me your sunscreen.
I come to lather in sunscreen, not to burn;
The hazardous rays of the sun penetrates our skin,
Our UVA protection is oft interred with our UVB,
So let it be with the tan people... The noble fair-skinned people
Hath told you tan people were ambitious:
If it were so, it was a grievous fault,
And grievously hath tan people absorbed it (sun)...
Here, under leave of the ozone layer and the rest,
(For fair-skinned people are honorable in their sunscreen applications;
So are they all; all honorable pale people)
Come I to seek refuge from the Sun's rays...
The Sun is the source of my photosynthesis, faithful and just to me and my tanning:
But the fair-skinned people say the Sun was ambitious;
And the fair-skinned people are honorable men...
....
My heart is in the tan glow there with the very tan people,
And I must pause till my natural skin color come back to me.

- on Shakespeare's Marc Antony

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w4Mkdtir7Ds

weather-speak

the mutual and neutral conversations that we are guilty of having: weather-speak.

Except this time it was not a forced neutral conversation at all. I boarded the elevator, and the other lady who was already in the elevator exclaimed at the exact time as I did, "it is such a nice day!" But really, it was such a nice day. We mutually had the same passion for how beautiful of a day it was: the fog had cleared, and there was not a cloud in the sky. 

We went our separate ways, but were assured by each other's assurances that it was, in fact, a very nice day.

PBJ&D

A nice PBJ&D sandwich can satisfy any food craving while beaching.

What exactly is a PBJ&D sandwich? you may ask.

Peanut-butter, Jam, and Doritos.

A childhood recipe.  

...The Doritos have to go IN the sandwich though, of course.

So enjoy your pseudo-hamburger and pseudo-fish&chips! PBJ&D forever.

How To Pee In The Ocean

Every beach-goer's dilemma: having to pee.

You've been beaching for the past 3 hours, and it would be such a hassle to pack everything up, trek back through the sand, and locate the bathroom that is half a mile down the coast.

YOUR ONLY OPTION: the ocean
it has salt, it is cleansing, and the fish use it as a bathroom too - so it logically makes sense, right?

YOUR DILEMMA: how to

Peeing in the ocean is not the same as peeing in a pool, quite the contrary.
You have to worry about the crashing waves, how far out to go, how to make it look like you're not going in just to pee, and of course, the sharks - the ocean is full of sharks.

... fear of sharks and other creatures thanks to River Monsters


The only thing you don't have to worry about is covering it up once you actually do the deed. The waves take care of that for you.

The steps you must take in order to effectively relieve your blood bladder beast of trow (Hitchhiker's reference) in the ocean:

1. Exclaim loudly about how you are getting hot and might go in for a quick dip. If you can find a friend to accompany, even better (as long as they don't know your intentions to shamelessly use them so you can pee).
2. Once the water is past your knees, exclaim that you must now get all the way in because you don't want to have to apply sunscreen to your sandy feet once you get out, and by going further in and washing your whole body, the sunscreen dilemma will be solved.
3. Observe the waves (height of crashing, the breaking point location)
4. Position yourself between the break and the almost breaking latitude in order to create a chaotic externality that forces you to be pulled down (this way you can "cover it up").
5. Go for it.
6. And relax, don't forget to relax.
7. Afterwards, groom your hair, and pretend like the series of under-towing waves were not warranted (another precaution cover-up).

And Whallah! You have peed in the ocean, and you can keep hydrating and you won't have  to worry about packing up your pow-wow every 3 hours.

The beach is at your disposal, literally.

EXISTentialism

Help! I'm existing in all of this tension - I must be an existentialist...

So much studying; I don't know who I am anymore.

?Quien soy?
I DON'T KNOW.

days like these

It's on days like these ones that I find my respite. I may be running on 15 hours or less of sleep over a period of 4 days, and I may have three more midterms to go, but how wonderful it was to hear the birds chirping this morning!


I just love taking in the morning as I walk to my class. The blossoms on the trees give off the most incredible aroma that is suspended in the humidity. The mist rolls in over the mountain. And the fountains are running at maximum capacity.

When it is rains, I like to pretend that I am in Ireland or Scotland. The grass is always greener when it rains. I try to pull off my "Pilgrim at Tinker Creek" observations and sing my "Why Does It Always Rain On Me" by Travis http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nwh3FmpZ7kg.

I like to walk around the fountains and pretend that I am in Rome leisurely eating my gelato (Caf Ice-cream) around one of the ancient aqueduct-powered realms. Sometimes I even throw in a coin for the heck of it. [the fountain cleaning people hate me]

This is the best time of year - when the blossoms are just about to burst, allergies have not yet been stirred, and the refreshing newness in life is imminent. 

All of that goes to say, "This is the day that the Lord has made, I will rejoice and be glad in it."

And no matter what, Spring Break will happen eventually.

"fingers crossed"

I sat there quietly working on my homework (getting paid for this, this is the best job for a preoccupied student). And all of a sudden, professors must have had a meeting because there was a large influx of professors walking the halls each snickering and laughing to themselves as if they held the key to the ultimate answer on this earth.

"Fingers crossed," one would say, and the other would reply, "yes, fingers crossed" (insert hearty chuckle sound).

I heard this maybe more than ten times, and I began to wonder why these English professors would be keeping their fingers crossed.

Heaven forbid "among" be changed back to the old school "amongst."
"Let's keep our fingers crossed that the Oxford comma remains."
"Fingers crossed that our students write Sonnets with 14 lines and not 15 lines."

Goodness. This is more than an inside joke.
But I know the answer.
The answer is 42.


Some Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy for you.


"Only when you know the question, will you then know what the answer means."
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aboZctrHfK8 

I like your pants

That awkward moment when you are the only one walking between two Marine Recruitment people and you say "hi" to break the ice as you pass by, and then they say "How are you?" And that is the moment where it all goes down hill. The conversation has begun and they will pull the information right out of you. You will have to sell your soul.

So instead of replying, "well, how about yourself" (like a normal person would )and moving on,
I replied, "I like your pants."
The response really threw them off, they looked down at their pants, and I took off before they could collect themselves. A narrow escape, and I didn't mean it as an insult.

I really did like their pants, comparatively, with mine I would have preferred theirs.

I did all of this while I was holding 5 chocolate chip cookies that I had taken from the Caf with the 6th one half in my mouth.

Judge me if you will, but I have the power of saying whether or not I fancy your pants.

"Study Groups"

"Hey, let's study together!"

-- yeah right, more like.... I want to hook up with you, and I'll use my seemingly academic endeavors to find favor in your heart. Then we can both find each other in our common studying and FAIL because we weren't concentrating.

- Just a personal observation and hypothesis that I have formulated while spending an incredible amount of time in the library.

You might have failed that class, or even college, but hey, at least you got your MRS. Degree! 


So, I'm just going to sit here and keep studying, by myself...

AHHHH CAN'T RESIST

I had my roommate change my password to Facebook and Pinterest until Friday. So far, it has been 10 hours without either, and I think I've lost it.

It is incredible how much of a habit checking it has become due to the lovely "home button" I have on my toolbar.

But Alas, never again! Studying time has been happening 18/24 hours. 2 hours for eating, showering, walking, and the other 4 are dedicated to sleep. ahh.

That's okay though because Spring Break is next week.

But I'm definitely feeling the "Burden" this university has placed on my shoulders - that is, the credit hour burden. Hello 6 midterms including projects and papers all due beforehand.

But still, I could not resist a small blogging for my sanity.

THE BIG IDEA:
I feel like Prince Rilian having a fit from C.S. Lewis' The Silver Chair, my personal favorite. 
I need not go into detail about the situation for only those who are as big of fans as I would understand and appreciate.

Just saying because I've been thinking (studying) too much.

Testing just sucks the fun out of learning. History is a personal favorite of mine, and I'm a fan, but the entire Latin American history (of only being tested on 10 key terms), I mean, come on. If I study all of it, I want to regurgitate it all back up for you. Test me on all of it suckaaahhhh.

Wistful Slumbers

I'd like to briefly comment on how the whole "sleeping in college" thing is not working out for me.


It is not working out for me.
It is not working out for me well at all.

"But it's mid-term week, you shouldn't be sleeping!"
Yeah yeah, I sleep more when I take afternoon naps as opposed to sleeping at night, and boy can I can foresee a long afternoon nap happening, early afternoon.

And now I'm moving to a quiet seaside town that practices the Siesta.

Please, don't take anything - I need everything I have.
Please, don't leave anything - I can't pick up after you, grow up.
Please don't think about it either - You have other things you should be thinking about besides Katie's "Oh so interesting sleep schedule."

But thanks for reading anyhow.

I hate group projects

I can't even begin to express how vile group projects are. The teacher exclaims, "group projects, how fun!" and I cringe. I dread, and I harvest so much bitterness that I want to ask whoever way back in the beginning thought group projects were ever a good idea.

Obviously we are not going for efficiency.

Is college the "real world?" I think not. Because the only incentives we have to do well besides that great motivation we all have is good grades. And you'd be surprised at how little people contribute to their grades.

To some, grades are not incentive enough.
Hopefully, in the "real world," income will be enough.
Income will drive motivation.

Kudos to those who are simply motivated. Because then, grades and income will be a perk.

When participating in group projects, you always spend more time than necessary picking up the pieces, rewriting everything in third person, and frustratingly trying not to be the damper on the happy day.

Unless, the teacher graded you for your part and your part only. Then all would be well. Group projects wouldn't be stressful at all! But then again, I suppose that that would defeat the purpose of group projects.

Why can't all of the motivated people be in the same group! That way, the project result would be spectacular!

It's like being in elementary school. You are the good kid, and the teacher forces you to sit next to the kid who fools around and is distracting. So what, you-the-good-kid is supposed to impose your good behavior on the other one? Quite the contrary.

So frustrating.
I think I would have applied socialistic methods in this elementary situation. Separation. Survival of the Fittest maybe as well. Just saying.

Efficiency and Quality are rarely simultaneously achieved during group projects.
Hello Real World and Income. Due to Motivation.

Don't get me wrong, I don't hate. I'm just frustrated. Yes, I'm a cynic. But what am I supposed to be, thrilled that I have to work so much harder for your good grade? Well, that's what you think, anyways.

Because my life is on the line, and you are imposing this externality on me so that I must oblige.

Group projects: "Oh how fun indeed."

A Studious Serendipity

What music do you listen to while you study? Do you even listen to music while you study?

Well, it just so happened that Cara and I took a moment from studying and asked each other what our current songs were.

We simultaneously exclaimed, "NARNIA!"

How wonderful it is to find a kindred in song!

From Iron Maiden and Flogging Molly to Yann Tiersen and Harry Gregson-Williams, I'd say our playlists ought to be given credit.

What's on your study playlist?

Food Court

I usually like to wait until the very end of the semester to blow all of my food court bucks, but at this rate, I'll be  out the week after Spring Break. That means that I will have 7 weeks without food court indulgence, plus the summer.

Why? Because I don't eat enough fruit, and the three bananas a day that I eat from the caf are not enough. I think I've built up a tolerance to bananas because I've eaten so many.

So, I drink Nakeds as my supplement.
Expensive, going at $4.27 the last time I checked.
But, I keep telling myself that buying the actual fruit costs more in the end, plus preparation time.

That is, of course, that it isn't after Wednesday at night when there are no more Nakeds left (high demand here people, restock the shelves no body drinks yellow Gatorade) and the two remaining Chick-Fil-A sandwiches have been sitting out for 6 hours already.

Take Sans Naked or Salmonella.
And you can take my ID because there won't be any money on it anyways. Back to the bananas.

Who would have known: Printing

Somewhere, in the deep recesses of my mind, I knew that this university had a printing store. The fact was, in fact, in an extremely deep recess. Little did I really know how, for lack of a more eloquent word, awesome, of a printing store it is.

"Would you mind running down to the Printing Store and picking up my orders?" - said a professor during my shift.
"Why yes, I would love to!" - me
"Printing store!!!, hmmm.... I'll call the Hub. Natural instinct. Ah, so it really does exist!" - my thinking


So, off I go to the "Printing Store."

Oh, and how marvelous a sight it was to see such happenings, organization, and efficiency! And there I was, instantly, taking in the aroma of paper hot off the printing press. As a child, I wanted to do many things, two of which included 1. sailing the seas, braving the pirates (Carry On, Mr. Bowditch, Master and Commander, Swiss Family Robinson, etc.) and being a cartographer, and 2. being an apprentice under the great Johannes Gutenberg.

I feel as though my brief presence in such a place fulfilled a small part of that childhood dream.

So, Kudos to you, ye printing store.

Take it or leave it, but at least think about how much rich substance childhood dreams had compared to your dreams are now.

Why can't we be children forever...
Buddy, I'll tell you why, because any childlike dream is perceived to be "childlike" and not "adult-like." Are my dreams to ridiculous to you. Do you doubt their importance. You're telling me that I can't obtain my dreams. Thanks society. Imagination is everything.

"It is nothing but our personal weakness that makes us content with what others, or we ourselves have discovered in this quest for knowledge." Thank you, Montaigne.

Today's Word: Respite

"Respite" has been on my mind for quite some time now.

Perhaps the reason is that while attending a classical school, we memorized, a lot. We memorized and memorized and memorized. As 4th graders, we could recite chapters upon chapters of the Bible. As 6th graders, we memorized sonnets and plays and poems. Latin conjugations and history dates were thrown into the everyday conversations. As children, we thrived off of the classics - the pursuit for knowledge and critical thinking and observations. Curse ye ACT and SAT scores!

"The Raven," by Edgar Allen Poe is a poem that will forever be ingrained in my mind. 

"Respite - respite and nepenthe, from thy memories of Lenore!"

http://poestories.com/read/raven 

I am thinking about it. Constantly.

... and yet

SPRING BREAK GET AT ME!

and yet..... I will now take this time to howl at the moon.
How beautiful Oh! Luna, Artemis, Moon!

Psalm 8 for you.

¹O LORD, our Lord, how excellent is thy name in all the earth! who hast set thy glory above the heavens. 
²Out of the mouth of babes and sucklings hast thou ordained strength because of thine enemies, that thou mightest still the enemy and the avenger. 
³When I consider thy heavens, the work of thy fingers, the moon and the stars, which thou hast ordained;
 ⁴What is man, that thou art mindful of him? and the son of man, that thou visitest him?

 ⁵For thou hast made him a little lower than the angels, and hast crowned him with glory and honour.

 ⁶Thou madest him to have dominion over the works of thy hands; thou hast put all things under his feet:

 ⁷All sheep and oxen, yea, and the beasts of the field;

 ⁸The fowl of the air, and the fish of the sea, and whatsoever passeth through the paths of the seas.

 ⁹O LORD our Lord, how excellent is thy name in all the earth!

"Goodnight Moon"

Hashtag Hypocrite

Okay okay. So I'm a hypocrite. 

According to my "patience ye hasty souls" post, http://www.takeitorleaveitbutatleastthinkaboutit.blogspot.com/2012/03/patience-ye-hasty-souls.html, I want to fully take in every waking minute of every day. 

Yes, I enjoy studying, reading, staying busy, 

but...... SPRING BREAK GET AT ME NOW!

sand, surf, and SLEEP.

Take it or leave it, but try not to think about it too much - the thought of the sound of the crashing waves and squawking of sea gulls is driving me mad as I listen to the quarter-hour bell ring.

Every day, I try to give myself a word, sometimes it is a word that I wake up saying.

So far this week, the words are: civilization & barbarism, perseverance, patience, persistence, and Shakespeare. 

What is your word?

on Cankles

Sometimes I just wish that I had cankles. As I walk around after wearing my 4 in. heels at the Beeson Ball, my ankles are suffering from some sort of foot drop. My ankle bones protrude the surface of my skin - very fragile.

so...

If only I had some extra tissue down there on my feet, then all would be well. I could really use the extra padding on my feet to absorb the shock of my thudding steps.

I wish I had cankles.

I don't know what you could take or leave from this except that you are probably thinking, "how odd."

patience ye hasty souls

Why the rush? Why race through the days when your days are numbered; why keep counting?


After viewing "In Time," I was even more thankful that I do not know my number. We all have one - number that is, and we can't necessarily change that, but we can change how we live out those unknown numbers.


Some moments are unpleasant, but the ones that are pleasant should make up for that "lost time." Each day is a gift - and we don't count the number of gifts we receive now, do we?


Every now and then, I try to evade the organist in the chapel and get in some much needed "Clair de Lune" time. Okay people, I can hear the door opening followed by your giggles. It alarms me; I am in my element playing to my heart's delight, and you have disrupted my moment. I want nothing more than to pass along a quaint blessing - please listen, I don't mind, but don't disturb.


I promptly fled the wooden pews' abode, the piano lid carefully shut and bench pushed back into place. That moment I left unfinished... the suspension of my song lingering in the air, and I would not have closure on my emotions. I'd left that too, you know, when your noisy unrest-ed soul busted in on mine that was so still. Now it is restless, and I am frustrated. I was taking in that moment, and you hurried me along to the next. Patience, ye hasty souls...


Take it or leave it, but at least listen to the following songs.




Debussy: Clair de Lune: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cJsyMmC76aM

Gin Wigmore: Hallelujah: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OIJmRPPvywY&feature=related

Travis: All I Want To Do Is Rock: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OIJmRPPvywY&feature=related

Paolo Nutini: Growing Up Beside You: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s9ui1nF_PTI&feature=related

Travis: Love Will Come Through: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E8FwefQgieY

Yann Tiersen: La Valse D' Amelie (Orchestra): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3QWaNV4EWb8