Desks

My school has an issue with desks. They don't have whole ones. Apparently the desks they use to fill the classrooms were donated from high schools, so a lot of them are these tiny half desk things that barely hold half a book. It's incredibly annoying. I'm not sure what the logic was when the college bought them. "Oh perfect, half a desk! It's only college, why would we need more than that? They're adults now. No more normal sized desks."

So I sit in the same seat everyday because I'm weird like that. Really, ask people have taken a class with me. If you happen to sit in a seat that I always sit in I'll suddenly get all crazy white girl on you and say something really passive aggressive like "You know I sit there like everyday? No no it's fine, stay there. I just think it's so funny when people randomly take other people's seats. It's fine, really I don't care." I do care. A lot. Stay away from my freakin' seat.

Well anyways, for this particular class I always sit in the second row, two rows from the window. I sit there everyday because this particular seat has one of the elusive normal sized desk that some students can only dream of getting because they always show up too class late. It's great. I can open my notebook and it doesn't fall straight to the ground because the entire notebook is supported by the desk. It's a beautiful thing that I'm sure all of you are actually extremely used to because any normal school has normal desks. They are so commonplace that you don't even have to say "We have normal desks," you just say "We have desks." Must be nice.

The only problem this morning was that this seat had switched. There was a pretend desk in it's place (giving these half-desk things the full title of "desk" would be an insult to the word "desk"). This wouldn't do at all. I couldn't spend the whole period writing on half a desk. It would be like writing on a type writer because you have to keep moving the part of the notebook you need to write on over so that it's the part lying on the desk. I'm not coordinated enough to managed that.

So in the five minutes before class started I decided to switch the pretend desk with an actual desk. While I'm moving things around it's of course making a lot of noise. I'm not sure if it was because it was 8:30 in the morning or because I was so fixated on switching the desks, but I failed to notice that literally everyone was staring at me. Not just mildly amused staring, but ogling like I was stripping my clothes off or suddenly decided to start singing show tunes in front of them.

It was then that I looked over to my professor. He was staring also, with a look of complete confusion on his face. 

"What are you doing?" he asked me. 

"Umm switching the desks."

"Why?"

"Because not even my desks in Elementary School were this small."

Luckily he laughed at this because people who don't get my humor usually just assume I hate the world and I'm mad and bitter all of the time, which is totally not true. I only hate most of the world. My classmates were not as amused at my response and they continued to stare at me for the next few minutes before class started. That quickly I had become "that one girl" in the class. I feel like the more I try to just blend in, the more of a spectacle I make of myself. A normal person would have just left the desk where it was.

On my ipod today: "Dog Days Are Over" by Florence + the Machine. Nothing beats running to the fast parts of this song. You kind of feel unstoppable.

Eye Doctors Part I

I've had the same pair of glasses for about 5 or six years now. They've served me well though this time, but I guess this summer was just too much for them. While volunteering at a camp one of the kids through a dodge ball at my head and my poor glasses have not sat on my face right since then. I worried that when I eventually do get a new pair, the action of pushing my glasses back up will have come so second nature to me that I will continue to try and push my new glasses up, even though they won't need to be. Well, I'll cross that bridge when I get there.

Anyways, a few weeks ago I got the tiniest of scratches on one of my lenses. Anyone who has ever worn glasses knows that a tiny scratch on a lens = 40% of your visual area once you actually put your glasses back on. Did I mention that the scratch is directly in the middle also? Needless to say my endless putting off of getting new glasses had to end. My current pair is failing at the two basic functions of glasses: Staying on my face and helping me to see.

So I called my mom and asked her whether I was due for an eye doctor exam, and she told me she would call and set up an appointment for me. Later that day she told me I could go in at 2:30, Monday the 17th.

Now my mom has a habit of mistyping, mishearing, misunderstanding, mis-anything else that could cause some more annoyance in my life. So a few days later I made sure to verify the date and time with her. I've learned from experience that you have to phrase these things in a way that makes it sound like your fault. If I just said "Are you sure it's Monday at 2:30?" she would have gotten mad that I didn't trust her. So instead I said, "I completely forgot, when is my eye doctors appointment again?" That way I could compare the two dates and times to make sure that they were indeed the same. 

My mom thought it would be best if she, my sister, and me all went that day to get our eyes checked. So today (Monday, 17th) I drove back home after my classes to meet up with them to get our eyes checked. When we got there only the man that helps you pick out your glasses was there, so we started to look at the different glasses out of boredom. 

It should be known that I am basically blind without my glasses. This always makes picking out glasses interesting. Every 5 seconds my mom would ask "What about these?" and I would (not really) patiently tell her I couldn't see them. She could have been holding up small rodents in her hand for all I knew. So then she would hand them to me and I would press my nose against the mirror trying to see this new pair. By the time I actually started to see what the pair looked like, my mom would once again ask "What about these?" and the whole process would start again. In a sitcom there would be a laugh track that played every time she asked me, but in real life it was just incredibly annoying.

After a while I got tired of trying on glasses and I figured I would make my final decision after my eye exam. At this point my mom casually asked the man helping us look at glasses if the eye doctor was running late, to which he replied "Oh he only works every other Monday. He's not coming in today."

Well I must have made quite the face because at this point both the man and my mom just stared at me for a few seconds. I couldn't believe it. Firstly, my mom mixed up the date of something...again. I even did my tricky method of making sure she had the right date! Man, I thought that method was fool proof. Now I need a new method.

Secondly, why on Earth did the man let us walk around trying on glasses randomly for almost a half an hour without asking us why we were there if there was no eye doctor coming in?  Nobody had any appointments that day, so there should have been so sort of bell that went off in his head that said maybe something was wrong. Instead, he politely chatted with us the entire time, acting as if it were completely normal for a family to spend their afternoon randomly trying on glasses that they can't actually purchase that day. Let me tell you, on my list of things I want to do with my afternoons, randomly trying on glasses is below many things. Admittedly it may still be above watching a romantic comedy though. It's hard to tell, both waste so much time and completely annoy me. At least trying on glasses doesn't make me physically ill though.

So you see this is Eye Doctor Part 1 because I have to once again drive back home next week for an actual appointment. Knowing how everything in my life is so unnomal, I'm sure Part 2 will be just as interesting. 

On my ipod today: "Grow A Pear" by Ke$ha. After today I need a good laugh, and this song cracks me up every time. It's just so ridiculous. Look up the lyrics, you'll see what I mean.

Grace (or lack there of)

Throughout my life I have managed to make a complete spectacle out of myself at the worst possible moments. You doubt me? I think I'm exaggerating? Well it's true. If I'm trying to impress people that's when I say my, errr less intelligent sounding remarks. Whenever I am aware that people are watching me, I just sort of shut down and forget how to do things like talk or eat, or any other basic skill that should really require no effort. You still need convincing? Here's a great example from when I was in 12th grade:

My English teacher got it in her head that we needed to do some sort of going away project since we were seniors. You could basically do anything as long as it was memorable and represented you. Well me and my friend decided that we would work together on it since neither of us could think of anything to do on our own. The only problem was that we failed to consider the fact that just because we were working together didn't mean that we would suddenly find inspiration as to what to do.

Eventually, and to make sure it was fully established what nerds we were, we decided that we would talk about our friendship through the books that we both enjoyed reading. It was just about the lamest idea for a project you could come up with, but hey, it was something. So we wrote out this whole monologue thing that we were going to read in front of the class, including different quotes from the books we both enjoyed. Jeeze, as I'm writing this out I'm becoming more more fully aware of how dorky we were.

Anyways, I have some slight issues with public speaking. I get incredibly flustered every time I  have to get up in front of people. So at one point I read a quote from Memoirs of a Geisha that said "Nowadays many people seem to believe their lives are entirely a matter of choice; but in my day we viewed ourselves as pieces of clay that forever show the fingerprints of everyone who has touched them." After I read the quote I was supposed to explain how it related back to my friend and me. Unfortunately in my flustered tongue-tied self I managed to say "And just like in the quote, me and ***** touch each other."  Immediately I stopped talking, realizing what I had just said. Dead silence filled the air for a good 10 seconds....

I tried to move on with a pathetic "And ummm yeah, the book..." but it was too late. One of my classmates was turning red, clearly trying to hold her laughter in, but as soon as I tried to speak again she burst out laughing. Soon my entire class was laughing. It wasn't just a slight chuckle. It was tears rolling down the face laughter. Even the teacher. In her defense she was trying really hard not to. Just not hard enough to you know, not laugh. 

My life has been filled with theses moments. Thursday was no different. I had just taken a test with my English professor that afternoon, and later in the day I happened to pass by him once again in front of one of the academic buildings. I was wearing a skirt and heels because I also had to give a presentation in another class that day. So as we started to get closer to each other, he raised his hand to wave at me, smiling away. He may be clearly into his 60s or 70s, but he is more energetic than most 20 year olds I know. He's a pretty awesome guy.

So of course, true to my nature, I got a little too into waving back to him and I forgot to look where I was walking. I stepped on a crack in the sidewalk. Any other day this wouldn't have been an issue, but today I was wearing heels. Needless to say I went from saying hi to my professor, to saying hi to the ground in less than 2 seconds. 

To my complete mortification he came running up to me to help me up. I quickly shot back up like nothing happened and smiled like nothing in the world could have made me happier at that moment than falling straight on my butt. What I wanted to do was just lay on the ground in my own embarrassment and shame, but I don't think that would have helped the situation much. On the bright side, maybe he will give me bonus pity points on my test. At the very least he will always remember me.

For your entertainment: A video!

On my ipod today: "Let's Get It Started" by the Black Eyed Peas. They may not be able to sing live in any way that resembles actual singing, but I cannot deny the catchyness of this song.

Suburbia

Suburbia. While it is absolutely nothing like how they make it out to be in the movies generally, there is one thing that Hollywood got right. It's dull as hell. I've lived in the same house my entire life. All my neighbors have been the same neighbors I've had my entire life purely because of the fact that they are really old and are going nowhere (you know you all just thought "until they die." Don't deny it).

I love how in the movies there is always that chipper family who lends you things like a cup of sugar and they invite you neighborhood block parties and things like that. In reality, if your neighbor ever asked you for a cup of sugar you would wonder what their ulterior motives are and automatically assume they are an insane person. Okay, maybe that's just my neighborhood. We refer to the neighbor on our right as "the crazy lady" because the only time we ever see her leave her house is to yell at the people she pays to do her lawn. I guess if all you did was stare out at your lawn all day, you would notice when it was cut too short also.

The lawn seems to be the crowing trophy as to whether or not you are winning the suburbia game. "Have you seen John's lawn lately? He needs to water it more. It's turning brown." People act as if this bothers them, when in reality they are secretly happy their neighbor's lawn is failing because it makes their own lawn look better in comparison. "HA! Take that John! You may have a pool but my lawn makes yours look like a dead pile of sticks! I'm so winning the suburbia game."

For myself, heaven help me if I end up in suburbia again. If I do somehow end up there again (please no...) I think I would find great entertainment in mixing it up a bit. I could make my whole front lawn a giant in-ground pool, paint my house purple, have a slide that comes down from my second floor down to the outside pool. Every Friday night would be disco night and I could have a retractable roof that let giant sky lights into the sky. This seems to be getting costly. I may have to sell a few organs first.

Surbia would actually be cool if everyone was like this: Awesome House

On my ipod today: "Knights of Cydonia" by Muse. The epic-ness of this song simply will blow your mind. I can't listen to it without feeling the need to get up and do something freaking awesome like get in a sword fight with a random person. Then I remember that people would probably not get it and call the police on me.

Cell Phones

If you haven't noticed how cell phones seem to have taken over so many people's lives, then you must be living in some sort of cave. That or you are Amish, in which case you aren't really reading this anyways.

It amazes me how some people hold onto their cell phone like its pumping life preserving juices into their veins. Take for instance, any time you want to leave your house. You can't leave without someone having that panic moment where they shout out "WAIT! Where is my cell phone?!" as if not having their cell phone somehow prevents them from being able to put one foot in front of the other in order to walk out the door. The way some people panic you would imagine they lost their first born child or they found a cat stuck in a tree.

Have you ever noticed that it is no longer socially acceptable to simply sit anywhere anymore? You don't have to actually be doing anything, you only have to look like you're talking with someone on your phone.

Sitting alone on a bench=creepy.

Sitting alone on a bench aimlessly staring at your cell phone=socially acceptable.

As much as cell phones can annoy me, especially when people seem more preoccupied with the virtual people they are talking to rather than the living breathing ones in front of them, people who don't own one can be equally annoying. Take for instance one of my professors. I'm TAing one of his classes and I was going to hold a review session for the students over the weekend. He asked me if I had any questions before I held the session and I told him I couldn't think of any at the moment, but if I did I would e-mail him. He then told me that he would be away all weekend with no access to the internet. He also told me that he doesn't own a cell phone. He then proceeded to give me his wife's cell phone number and told me to call her since he will be near her all weekend anyways. Yeah, I'm going to call my professor's wife's cell phone number for a review session question while they are on vacation for the weekend. That wouldn't be weird or awkward at all. 

I would have the professor without a cell phone. It's just so unnormal.

On a side note to my roommates: I spelled the words "fat" "die" "porn" and "mushy" with the magnet letters on our refrigerator about a week ago. I was expecting someone to move the letters or at least comment on the word choice by now, but no one has. I'm a little concerned. Are you all really that unobservant or are you really perfectly okay with keeping these words spelled out on our fridge?

A Related Cartoon I Found! 

On my ipod today: "Single Ladies (Put a Ring On It)" by Beyonce. I can do that side to side head thing she does in her video like you wouldn't even know.

Shopping

I'll be the first to admit that I don't particularly enjoy shopping. Wait-let me clarify that. I don't particularly enjoy shopping with other people. I'm more of a go in, get my crap, pay and leave, kind of shopper. Unfortunately from my experience, this is actually atypical behavior. Most other people treat shopping as some sort of enjoyable excursion like going to the park or a concert. "I need new pants! I know, I'll drag a few of my friends around the mall for several hours, shopping at several stores, and then walk out with absolutely nothing at all! It will be so much fun!"

For myself, I treat shopping much like I treat going to the dentist. It's annoying, but you have to do it eventually. "I need new pants! Well maybe I can hold out a few more months with the few pairs I have. Or years..."

The main problem I find when I am shopping with other people is how incredibly picky most people are. It's like we're on some sort of game show where the host keeps teasing you. "Will she buy the cute red shirt? It has that one weird ruffle on the bottom that she doesn't like. But who can beat that price?! Stay tuned to find out!"

I find it best to simply agree with whatever the person says, since that's all they want from you anyways.

"Do you think it's too big?"

"Yeah, it's definitely too big on you. Don't get it."

"Well actually now that I look at it again it doesn't look that big."

"Yeah now that I'm looking at it again, I think you're right. You should so get it."

"But the color is weird, right?"

"Totally. What a weird color. Don't get it."

It amazes me some of the strange things people can find wrong with outfits. I once went shopping with one of my friends who told me that she didn't want to get this one shirt because "it made her neck look long." I didn't even know that was something that you should be worried about when you're looking for clothes. It makes me wonder how many shirts I've bought over the years that actually have been making me look like a giraffe. I shudder to think about it.

On my ipod today: "Hammers and Strings" by Jack's Mannequin. Such a beautiful song...

Running Part II

You know how I said before that I don't really pay attention to things while I am running? Well I almost fell into a pond today. It was only about 80% my fault. Perhaps I should back up first.

Yesterday my roommates and I went up to Wegmans, and while we there we decided to rent a movie at one of those redbox machines. You can only have the movies for 24 hours, which meant that I had to return the movie the next day. Now as you all know from my previous posts, my car is basically a pile of random metal scrape pieces that happen to welded together in a fashion that slightly resembles a working vehicle. In other words, I didn't really want to drive back up to Wegmans just to return a movie.

So today I had the brilliant idea of carrying the DVD in my hand while I went on my run this afternoon. Yeah, I went on my run in the afternoon. That was my first mistake. It's already been unnaturally warm for October, and I decided to go running during the hottest time of the day. I only discovered this crucial mistake when I was already 20 minutes into my run and I wasn't going to turn back at that point. Some people have told me that I have a slight tendency to be a bit stubborn at times. While I vehemently disagree with this, I was getting that freaking movie back even if it killed me.

I also didn't remember that I had to cross a major street in order to get back to Wegmans. So I was forced to cross the street in dehydrated state with cars that drive overly aggressive. I can only imagine I was quite the spectacle while I was crossing the street, since I was both tired and fearful for my life. I must have looked like some crazed escaped criminal who just stole a DVD the way I was running around. Dehydration never has been one of my more flattering looks. I was both tired yet full of adrenaline.
 

It was only natural then when I came across the final barrier on my quest to Wegmans I got excited and rushed at it with the same enthusiasm  as a child going to Disney Land. At that point, Wegmans was my Disney Land. The only thing standing in my way was a giant hill. That's it! My adventure was almost done!

So I ran up that hill with all my remaining strength, with the help of the adrenaline still pumping through my veins. Just as I get to the top I realized the grass I was expecting to be on the other side of the hill wasn't grass at all. It was water. Not just water, but a ton a water. It was a pond. Full of water. And I was heading towards it with all the momentum of a run away train. I really should pay more attention when I am running.

Unfortunately for myself the other side of the hill kind of just dropped off into this pond that came out of nowhere. If I thought I had a lot of adrenaline pumping through my veins before, it was nothing compared to now. As I inevitably got closer to the water I realized it wasn't just water either. It was NASTY water. This is not surprising since it lies right next to a parking lot, but still I would describe it more as a slightly watery chemical sludge rather than actual water. There was no way I was going in that.

In a desperate attempt to avoid taking a bath in the infected water, which looking back may not have been such a terrible thing if it gave some sort of super power, I grabbed onto a nearby tree. My feet clearly did not get the memo that I had no intention in going into the pond since they continued to travel toward the water. So while my arms held onto the branch, my feel traveled forward and I ended up landing straight on my butt. It hurt like hell, but at least I gave the people driving by on the road an entertaining show.

So you see, it was only 80% my fault that I almost went into the pond. The other 20% was the movie's fault. It was a good movie, but not worth my public humiliation.

Something Worth Looking At

On my ipod today: "Love and Memories" by OAR. It was on my ipod at the time I dramatically fell so it only seems natural that it is the song of the day.