The Raven

You don't know how long I have been waiting for this day to share one of my favorite poems!

Appropriate, being All Hallow's Eve.

The Raven

Edgar Allan Poe

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
`'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.'

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
`'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -
This it is, and nothing more,'

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
`Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!'

This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!'
Merely this and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
`Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the wind and nothing more!'

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
`Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven.
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door -
Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as `Nevermore.'

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,

That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before -
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.'
Then the bird said, `Nevermore.'

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
`Doubtless,' said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
Of "Never-nevermore."'

But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking `Nevermore.'

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,

She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
`Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee
Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -
On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting -
`Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting

On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!

greetings

Hi, how are you?
Good, how are you?
<silence>
<keep walking>

And that's the end of the conversation in passing.

Hi, how are you?
Stable, are you?

One can only hope...

"To get stood up"

Today, I got stood up.

There was a meeting place, a time, and a motive. The connection had been established a week prior, and a confirmation the night before to verify this unusual happening.

I had that sinking feeling when seven minutes had passed, without a text or an errand boy to ensure me that an arrival was imminent.

So there I was, twenty minutes later, sitting in front of a chess set in the middle of the Caf, debating my fifth move. Alone.

I don't think I've ever been stood up before. Period.
I don't think I've ever been stood up before over a chess match.
I don't think anyone has ever been stood up over a chess match.

It was quite an awkward situation, one of which I am in anticipation of an immediate rectification.

The Wind in the Willows

Have you ever had the burning desire to watch The Wind in the Willows, or read the book and have some butter on toast?

Queen of Last Minute

Freshman year: I specifically remember setting my alarm for 6:30am on the first day of school. 15 minutes later, I was ready. I sat in my room and stared at the wall forever, and then I headed to the Caf, where I would spend two hours with several other students, like me, who had not quite gotten the concept of "it only takes literally 2 minutes to walk to class, and you don't have to be there 15 minutes early."

Sophomore year: on time. skipped breakfast.

Junior year: plan on me being 5-20 minutes late for everything. I probably shouldn't have scheduled my 7 classes back to back. That would have at least spared my poor legs some fast walking with a heavy backpack and several outfit changes. But, even if I am ready to be on time, something always ends up pushing back my schedule. breakfast is usually 1pm.

I rely on the professors who are always late, to always be late. - So we end up busting into class around the same time.

I'm sorry, I don't intend to keep you waiting, you are valuable, and your time is valuable - I'd hate to waste it. And I'd hate for you to waste mine as well, but, if on the off chance you are running later than me, I'll be working on the next item on my check-list - so, you aren't really wasting my time at all. I consider it a gift of time opportunity. I wouldn't expect you to have the same view, so I really will try to be on time, next time.

But at least know, in all my efforts, I will still be, inevitably, running late. So, schedule everything a quarter of an hour earlier, plan on being late, and we will have an organized cohort of efficiency. Thanks for the accommodation.

blessed assurance

one-way streets

One-way streets were probably first integrated into the road system because of drivers like me. We have no sense of street-name directions, only the position of the sun and superb building recognition skills.

• Missed a turn? No problem, just go around the block.
• Don't know if it's north or south? Every other street is the yellow-bricked one.
• Are you a pedestrian? Even better! You only have to dodge one flow of traffic.

One-way streets, I'm a big fan. 

Pre-Law 'scoff'

So there I was, in a court room being introduced to the Judge as a law school student. I immediately realized that the mis-introduction needed immediate rectification lest I be drilled about some obscure reasoning of the law or another. Upon my introduction of being full-out law, I immediately located the exits and began recalling everything about law that I had ever learned or read, if my knowledge be tested. I could barely interrupt the mile-a-minute introduction to clarify my year in school, yet alone completely clarify my major.

All of those Youth and Government Judicial Mock Trials as a top state judge treated me well in high school, but let's be real, it's not the hardcore parkour law in real life stuffs. On the topic of the beloved YAG, most people couldn't properly present a simple Burden of Proof, and I sent about 90% of the defendants to 20+ years in the state penitentiary. To the 10% that did, well done, as you should have.

Objection: Overruled.

Anyways, I ended up accepting "pre-law" as my major. We had a nice little chat, and that was that.

Scoff.

Mutual Fudge

I didn't have any particular plan in mind at that moment. I only knew that I had just put my car into reverse and, I was rolling. I didn't know where I was driving, but I did have a sensation of burning hunger for taquitos, the frozen kind that you heat in the microwave for 40 seconds on each side. Minutes later, wind-blown hair and all, I found myself not staring at taquitos through the frosted glass, but rather the guilty pleasures of ice cream. I'm not usually one to eat ice cream, but if there was a beef jerky flavored ice cream, then that would be a different story.

I'm not exactly sure what drew me to that place. I found myself indecisively gazing into my answer. Fudgesicles. It was a mutual self-discovery of ice cream connection between this elderly woman and me. We both spent a good five minutes weighing our options, options that factored in neither sugar nor calories. Basically, if we were going to eat ice cream, we were going to enjoy it in its entirety, and none of that reduced-fat crap they sell.

We couldn't have planned that moment of choice more timely, that elderly woman and I, for we simultaneously gave the freezer door a tug and pulled out our pickings with pride.

I methodically purchased my treasure, and half-way to my car, I had already torn my box open and produced this marvel. I was finishing my third fudgesicle for the day as I walked up the stairs to my room.

Keep in mind it was well past three o'clock in the afternoon, and I hadn't eaten anything yet, though, now that I think about it, I wouldn't have minded a taquito either, though the instantaneous satisfaction would have been a frozen one.

This story holds no significance in your life and is of little value to the decisions you will make in the future, but if, one day, you do happen to find yourself dazed in front of the ice cream aisle, make sure that you take the time to enjoy and observe your own process of selection, for you might happen to find out a lot about your reasoning skills in absurd guilty pleasures and realize that those which may seem silly are, in fact, the most important for your sanity.

Once Upon No More!

It's one of those mornings...

Ferris Bueller, that is all I have to say. The link should explain the rest.

10/16 Presidential Debate

Just in case you missed the 10/16 Presidential debate: 

Energy
Obama - I'm all for pipelines
Mitt & Obama fumble - Questions: awk
"bring back manufacturing to America"

Taxes
Mitt: Importance to the middle class

• wants to bring the rates down
• middle income tax payers to have lower taxes
•  incomes go down while health insurance and gas goes up, thus great need for relief to middle income families 
• limit deductions for people at the high end, not pay less than pay now 
• middle people get a tax break. No more taxes on savings. 
• Presiden'ts spending and borrowing will increase the taxing on everyone
• Mitt will get us on track to a balanced budget

Obama: Middle class relief

• cut taxes for middle income by 3600
• "Moral obligation to the next generation." 
• "The wealthy must do a bit more." 
• 97% will not see a tax increase. 
• "His (Romney) allies want tax breaks for the top two percent." 
•  "We have a different theory." Tax cuts, not tax rate cuts, says Obama about Mitt.

[Always pointing the finger]

Chuckle.

Not cut taxes for wealthy people, for middle end people. if you bring rates down, it makes it easier to keep the people employed. Taxed as individuals, when the rates are brought down, it helps the businesses as well.

How is it payed for: 
Obama: 

• "You wouldn't have taken such a sketchy deal (on investments), and neither would you" (America). "You will lose deductions. It doesn't add up."

Mitt: 

• "Of course they add up... I balanced the budget." 
• "How about four trillion of deficits? That's math that doesn't add up." 
• His plan is foreign.  10 trillion to 16 trillion of national debt. "Road to Greece."

Women in workforce
Obama:

• "She didn't complain, that's not what you did in that generation." (referring to his uneducated grandmother as a VP position at a bank training people who would be making salaries higher than her.)

Mitt:

• "Sometimes you need to be more flexible."  (New employers in the economy that I am going to have.) 
• Strong economy, so strong that the employers are looking for good employees. 

Obama:

• basically said that Romney was not a good advocate. Pocket-book issue for women, health programs. 
• "These are family issues; these are economic issues."

Mitt: employers do not get to decide on Planned Parenthood

[Obama obviously wants fairness--he wants the timekeeper to keep time.]

Differentiate between George Bush
Mitt:

• 5 point plan
• new technology gives different energy sources
• trade, in Latin America - more free trade agreements
• balanced budget
• small business - taxes down. grow and hire people

Obama:

• Romney is aiding Chinese companies that will spy on us.

Obama:

• "so the point is the commitments I've made, I've kept.
  And those that I haven't been able to keep, it's not for lack of trying and we're going to get it done in a second term."
  Read more: http://www.politico.com/news/stories/1012/82484_Page5.html#ixzz29azW74nI

• I have done everything that I said I would do. But everything that I was not able to do that I said I was going to, I will do in the next four years.

Mitt: This is a debate over: "Who can get the middle class a prosperous future?"

... And then I realized that I still had a ton of homework to do so I cut out on the topic of Immigration.

It's a Library, loud people

If you are doing anything besides intensely studying, or studying and blogging in my case (for my own sanity), then get out. Stop distracting those who are so keen on doing their work of much-needed focus.

If you even have a slight doubt about your own diligence, get out.

To the man on the third floor who is going to, I quote "go up to Vail and make some cookies or brownies," this is all I ask of you: go. Leave us in an undisturbed, uninterrupted, plain sweet ole peace.

You are quite welcome to leave and promptly return with a nice basket of warm brownies at any time now.

Yes, I am pissy. I hope that, you-hoo out there with the loud voice, reads this post and chortles. If you don't have to be in the library, don't be in the library. Go pilfer someone's bike and ride around campus for an hour or two, or something, anything to use your time wisely other than using my study time. K thanks.

Unstable Wardrobe

Autumn weather calls for much wardrobe confusion. From freezing cold mornings to sweltering heatstroke in the afternoons and blizzard-like conditions in the evenings.

Many wardrobe changes ensue.

Today, I happened to be particularly confused by the people wearing fashionista sandals (Chacos are year-round standard attire and don't count) and then my own sporting of the winter boot.

Perhaps this is a sign of the particular hour in which each individual is prepared.

Mine tends to lean towards the frost biting winds.

Vengeance & Grapes

The Fox and the Grapes
Aesop

One hot summer’s day a Fox was strolling through an orchard till he came to a bunch of Grapes just ripening on a vine which had been trained over a lofty branch. “Just the things to quench my thirst,” quoth he. Drawing back a few paces, he took a run and a jump, and just missed the bunch. Turning round again with a One, Two, Three, he jumped up, but with no greater success. Again and again he tried after the tempting morsel, but at last had to give it up, and walked away with his nose in the air, saying: “I am sure they are sour.” 

And the moral of the story is: dun dun dun, and wouldn't you like to be told! Not so easily, my friends. I'll let you mull over this one.

Perhaps it was the paper I am writing for Spanish class about la venganza, in Spanish, or maybe it was the recent bed-time read of Beowulf and all that beautiful blood vengeance, or perhaps it was the most recently-viewed episode of Revenge. But I literally haven't thought about this story since fifth grade, and here I am, sitting in the library, drinking my cold coffee, and BAM! I've got Aesop on the mind.  

I sure hope this doesn't mean that I have become quite bitter about the subject of vengeance, for I chose it myself. Perhaps this is saying something about my mind. 

dun dun dun... BEWARE, I guess.

freshmaning to the library, I was

Oh, to be a freshman again! If only I had known!

This is what I would have done differently:
I would have studied less, or at least invested a quality 30 minutes as opposed to an unproductive two hours.
I would have taken advantage of the great literature that our Uni has access to, because believe me, I had the time.

I don't really remember what I spent my time doing: Gilmore Girls (all of the seasons), participating in every activity/convo credit opportunity, crew, tutoring, idk. I suppose each activity enhanced my life in some way or another, I just wish that right now it would have been enhanced by a time spent leisurely reading/burning all of the classical cd's onto my computer.

I often found myself running down Vail mountain to the library late at night to print out a paper. I would be wearing shorts and a sweatshirt in 30 degree weather. I must have been crazy. And then I'd have to go back and shave my legs again. Trying times, I know.

So ultimately, what I would have done differently: I simply would have worn pants. And as anti-pants as I am, that's saying something.

Dear freshman girl in the freezing cold,
Yes, I know the cold you are feeling right now.
Pant on, grasshopper.

May the pants be with you.

Destruction

The Destruction of Sennacherib

Lord Byron, 1815

   The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold,

And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold;

And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea,

When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.

   Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is green,

That host with their banners at sunset were seen:

Like the leaves of the forest when Autumn hath blown,

That host on the morrow lay withered and strown.

   For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast,

And breathed in the face of the foe as he passed;

And the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill,

And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still!

   And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide,

But through it there rolled not the breath of his pride;

And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf,

And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf.

   And there lay the rider distorted and pale,

With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail:

And the tents were all silent, the banners alone,

The lances unlifted, the trumpet unblown.

   And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail,

And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal;

And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword,

Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord!

Concepts of Swimming

This was our endeavor to grasp the concept of swimming:
It is a sad tale, exhausting, one that I wouldn't wish to recollect; however, my ranting frustration has taken over the more reserved attribute of myself, and I don't mean to make light of the situation by pointing out that all was well in the end. Or is it? Stay tuned.

We full out sprinted over the bridge and into The Woods, madly changing into our swimming costumes, clothes flying about and socks being dumped onto the floor in search of the sacred goggles. In two minutes, we had charged up and down three flights of stairs and were changed and heading out the door again to the conveniently closely-parked car. Wildly tearing through the night, a scene Fitzgerald could have depicted himself, with the windows down to add to our excitement as we drove ourselves to the pool.

We parked and madly dashed to the door that was locked. Change of plans, up the stairs, around the corner, and back down three more flights of stairs. Just as we dramatically yanked the doors open, the two lifeguards waltzed out exclaiming, "the pool doors have been locked!" with smirks on their faces as if nature itself was grinning her "time means nothing because I am nature" grin. We had been, so it seems, chagrined.

Puffing back up the stairs, enraged, and exhausted from our denied efforts, and this thought cannot even be finished as a complete sentenced thus signifying how incredibly exhausted from this sudden turn of events we were...

The detail that gives this seemingly mundane activity some level of importance: The pool closes at 7pm. We were there at 6:42pm. We would have made it. We would have completed our exercises with 5 minutes to spare. We had planned it this way. The lifeguards closed the pool early.

So, here's to you, lifeguards, skipping out on work early. We were depending on your rightly earned salary. We lost, and you still got your salary.

How the concept was won: As we enragedly (poetic licence) drove slowly back to our abode, in an inexplicable dismay, we tuned into a local radio station, a swing dancing station, and heard the familiar voice of our professor's husband announcing the songs (he was like a father to us on a study abroad trip we had gone on).

So, it was Fitzgerald-esque.

Narnian wonder

"But very quickly they all became grave again: for, as you know, there is a kind of happiness and wonder that makes you serious. It is too good to waste on jokes."

Welcome, my Narnian weather.
As the sunlight behind the murky grey-ish clouds is a perfect reflection of a glowing happiness. It is contagious. The heart glows in a manner not often found in the ambiance of direct sunlight. 

Thank you, Clives Staples, for your insight.

Homecoming

moats and boats and pay phone calllllllllls

What am I doing?

My components are simple, and my compartments extend.

I have:
2 dowel rods
a metal coat hanger

I used pliers and duck tape.

I have marshmallows in my coat pockets.
There is a bonfire.

Music, charm, soothe

"Music has charms to soothe the savage beast."

William Congreve
The Mourning Bride, 1697

Soothe, but not tame, my friends!

Extravaganza

This is my extravaganza: wind, music, and windows rolled down.

Claw

I claw at my eyes waiting outside of professors' offices during office hours. Claw claw claw claw claw

Blessing Negligence

I titled this post "Blessing Negligence" not as in negligence is necessarily a thing to be blessed; rather, we are oft negligent of our blessings.

As in, take the time to heed the spiritual wisdom of the caf ladies, have a spiritual convo with someone, surely it is one to be blessed, and full of blessings.

Don't miss the blessings!

Delicate heart

I'm not sure if it is the lack of sleep for the past few months/year, the heart ache, or heart break, but I definitely found myself in some twisted form of repose upon the lounge, crying out "God, please don't call me home this way!" Papers scattered about and about a half-million things on my mind... As if it should matter the way and moment I'm called home because I would be coming home!

Aching arm and back, tightened lungs, a literal heart ache. I thought I was goner for sure. I've never before had a heart attack or a stroke, but the fear of my newly acquired symptoms got the better of me, and I cursed my high pain tolerance.

Sooner or later I would become Madeline, staring up at the rabbit crack on the ceiling.
Please tell the surgeons to take out my appendix while they're at it.

descriptive description

If you ever desire to resonate with my favorite jargon...

affinity
annihilate
ardent
awe
awry
calamity
camaraderie
castrate
chunder
collective
cultivate
desparing
desultory
ethereal
evaporate
exquisite
forlorn
grandoise
mirth
innate
Mr. Grey and I
resonate
scurvy
void
writhe

Just a few off the top of my head, for now.

Au naturale

"The Floating Opera"
John Barth

XI. An instructive, if sophisticated, observation

"Nature, coincidence, can often be a heavy-handed symbolizer. She seems at times fairly to club one over the head with significance... So obvious even in its details that it was embarrassing. One is constantly being confronted with a sun that bursts from behind the clouds just as the home team takes the ball; ominous rumblings of thunder when one is brooding desultory at home; magnificent sunrises on days when one has resolved to mend one's ways; hurricanes that demolish a bad man's house and leaves his good neighbor's untouched, or vice versa; Race Streets marked SLOW; Cemetary Avenues marked ONE WAY. The man whose perceptions are not so rudimentary, whose palate is attuned to subtler dishes, can only smile uncomfortably and walk away, reminding himself , if he is wise, that good taste is, after all, only a human invention."

Savor

It's not that the days are long. They are, in fact, too short. By the time everything on the list has been checked off and being constantly on the go, mind you, the time to start the next day has already begun.

Before you know it, you've missed the day. The day has most definitely been a filled one, but one aspect remains unsavored: the sweet melodies of the daytime birds exchanging sound frequencies with the nightly singing crickets, the time spent in reflection rather than time spent in anticipation, love to pour out rather than to recycle upon one's self. That.

That is what I hope to not miss. So I choose savoring over sleeping. And coffee, lots of coffee. And by now, everyone else has gone to bed, but my day has only just begun!

Ye soft crickets chirp on.

Today's Back Burner is.....

So here I am, as a junior in college, feeling like a frustrated middle schooler taking Algebra 1, standing outside the teacher's office waiting for my tutoring turn. My time never comes because my ride has.

So here I am, as a junior in college, feeling frustrated in my collegiate stature, standing outside the professor's office still waiting for my time. My time never comes because of other pressing issues, id est, class.

The only question I have and ever will is: what will be put on the back burner today, this morning, this next hour?

Is it that sad that my life is just a compilation of built up back burner activities!

I don't intend to blow anyone off or cast you aside as unnoticed, rather I am trying to figure out how I can make you less of a back burner. Because believe me, you are worth more and hold prescedence over any pressing activity. Help me, invest.

Startle me, knock the cycle out of my hands, slow my fast-paced stride, give me a reassuring glance, just tell me.

Take me out of your back burner collection, and I'll take you out of mine - having a hard time sorting things out.

Unhealthy logic

I need protein. 

Peanut butter = protein. 

Peanut butter cookie = peanut butter.

Therefore

Peanut butter cookie = protein. 

Sad logic

Battery Power

That awkward moment when your computer has a battery life of 7.5 hours, and you've been in the library, and you computer runs out of battery. Yeah. #19credithours #accountingexam