Thursday, March 31, 2011

I blame this on you Alfred the Great

As usual I am updating my blog because I have deemed it a worthy enterprise than doing required reading for a class. In my defense, I have actually read this book twice before so I mean, technically, I've done the reading. Anyways, I am once again in the library. I know. Bet you werent expecting that! Ha. Anyways, I began to realize a series of emotions that I really shouldn't have in reference to a particular object. I go from longing, to excitement, to anxiety, to fear, and then utter joy, a sense of euphoria if you please, in a short range of time. Seriously, I am may explode from the flood of emotions that come from this experience. Oh and anger is sometimes the dominant emotion at the end. It truly is a heaven or hell situation. Anyways, have you figured it out yet? The one object that demands more of my emotions than most alcohol induced night?

It's the god damn vending machine!

But really, whoever created the vending machine has a sick sense of humor. You were the kid that got the crap beaten out of you on the playground weren't you? You made it so the big dudes couldn't get the small piece of candy out of the machine. You made it so that they would have to attack the inanimate object, yell, and scream, and cry and pound just to get a small, sweet, and savory treat out of it. Well, let me tell you. The joke is over. I did not beat you up on the playground and normally I would have defended you but now? Ohhh now, you have officially been entered into my eternal damnation list. You and your machine. And I will crusade against your unjust actions. This is war. A war for justice, peace, and eternal happiness free from the repression of an inanimate object who's inadequacy attempt to destroy my happiness. Well I will stand for it no longer. This is war vending machine. And I will win. Be afraid. Be very afraid vending machine.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

How Unfortunate

So, instead of reading for my Art and Anthropology I was creepily checking out guys in the library as per usual.  Lets be honest, the people are around me are far more interesting than Pomo basket weaving and seriously, isn't anthropology all about observation and being part of the human community.  Kinda hard to do that when I'm reading a book.  Anyways, under that bull shit pretense I spotted two very adorable first, maybe second, year boys.  Mr Cocoa-colored hair was very interesting to watch until he did something absolutely horrific to my day dreaming as to who he was.  He stretched.  Now normally, this would not bother me in the least, but this stretch was just not normal.  Actually, it was terrifying.  While stretching, he emitted the loudest, most barbaric (yes, I went there anthro nerds) sound.  I felt a chill down my spine and instead of immediately hiding underneath my desk which was my first reaction, I decided to get a better look.  The next sound that came out of him may perhaps have been a yawn for some but for me it sounded like a Wookie crying at the take-over of their planet, like at the end of Episode III.  Now, normally this would have made me sympathize with him but this kid is not a wookie.  He's not even hairy.  Now, all I can think of when I look at him is that he needs to be giant and hairy (a walking carpet comes to mind) and to be honest, the amount of hair that I'm talking about it just not attractive.  So I ceased my stalking of former beauty #1 and continued onto to potential daydream man #2.  At first I thought he was an engineer, staring intently at his computer screen and then, of course, I had to see what he was working on because, let's be honest, it has to be more interesting than reading about Pomo basket weaving.  Anything should be more interesting than Pomo basket weaving.  Well, not that this isn't interesting but seriously, Dungeons and Dragons?  Dude, that was so 90s.  Pick up on what's cool nerd stuff.  So disappointed.  Congrats unfortunate specimens of the male sex, you have officially deterred me from creepily looking at people in the library.  Pomo basket weaving will be far less disappointing than you.  You should be ashamed. (note sarcasm...but not really)

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

Febreeze please?

Alright, its the week before spring break and I've basically been stuck in the library with everyone else who seems to have a shit ton of crap to do this week.  I have 3 exams in 24 hours.  So, as per usual, I will ace one while failing the other two.  Props to me.  Anyways, I would like to comment on few things that should be known as basic etiquette in the library.

1) This is a library.  You know, where books are housed and people study.  I mean, yeah, there are tables in there, but these tables are not your dining room table and you're not at a restaurant.  You have some serious issues if you order an entire Chinese feast and sit at a table in Clemons Library eating it with three of your friends and then, once the meal is over, you all get up and leave.  No like really, you don't have tables or common rooms you could go eat?  Don't get me wrong, I love me some Chinese food, but only when I'm eating it because let's be honest, it actually smells disgusting.  So to you person who just ordered and opened some awful smelling Chinese food and have now proceeded to let it fall over your shirt, its 9:00 PM, it is not meal time nor is it appropriate snack time for Chinese food.  The only thing I want to smelling right now are books and my wonderful Ralph Lauren Romance perfume.  My recently shampooed hair is in front of my hair at this very moment in order that I might smell the lusciousness that is my hair instead of your smelly food.  I would rather look like Cousin It then smell your food.  You should be ashamed.

2) If you've ever been in Clemons Library, then you know that the fourth floor has booths off to one side next to the huge windows.  Now, there are not a lot of these booths and are thus a scarce, precious, and therefore rare commodity and must therefore be treated with great respect.  So you can imagine my disdain at seeing a booth with books and backpack in it, but no person...for over an hour and a half.  I understand saving your seat but thats just plain evil.  Way to be a colonial oppressor.  I, a native of the library, wish to obtain a seat that as a fourth year should rightfully be mine, but you have taken that opportunity away from me.  Nor do I appreciate the kid that sits on the table of one of these booths laughing and giggling with his friends while no one is sitting there.  It's seriously like you're mocking me.  It's just not ok.  I am sitting here, in my little spot near the booths, looking longingly over at your basically empty booth while you seat on its table laughing and joking around.  Kid, you are cruisin for a bruisin,

3) Just saw a girl with a pillow leave and come back with a blanket in tow.  oh.shit.

New business idea: rent air mattresses, pillows, and blankets to the lifeless souls pulling all-nighters in Clemons.  Genius.  You all would be in such a zombie-like state that you would have no idea what you were paying for.  MWAHAHAHAHA.

I will be here all.night.long.