It's a sign. I don't know what it's a sign of, but it's a sign.
Saturday afternoon, the roomie had a date with some guy she'd never met before. Obviously that made her uncomfortable, so she asked him if it'd be all right for her to bring another couple along. As we all know, I'm up for anything. So, I took a stroll over to the guys' building and started knocking on doors. An FHE brother named Matt consented to go with me. We had a grand ol' time at the marionette show (which may have been creepy were it not so incredible), even though we sat two rows in front of the couple we were supposed to be accompanying/chaperoning, and we ditched out of ice cream afterwards for the football game (disregard that dumb decision).
Yesterday at hall meeting there emerged a raffle. Feeling really good about raffles (5 of the 13 extras at the yogurt camp-out actually got yogurt by winning a raffle. I was not one of those 5), I tossed in my tickets and slumped in my sweats to the back of the room. Laughing at my daring, I crossed my fingers for the grand prize. Turns out I'm now a firm believer in crossing the fingers, because I'm the proud owner of a Date Night package! Good thing I'm practiced at defying social norms. Soon to come: Date night at Divine Comedy and the Cougar Eat with some poor self-imposed soul mate. Sounds pretty ghetto-fab to me.
I went camping last weekend! Soooooo good! My roommate Sarah and I gathered supplies (junk food, water bottles, and card games), printed off a map, and made the journey down to the can't-get-over-it unbelievably gorgeous parking lot by Fat Catz Bowling.
It was sort of grease nasty.
The ground was a bit hard for sleeping.
I need to practice beating pegs into asphalt.
But---we got free yogurt, and I would do it again.
Maybe.
Probably not.
Please note: creeper faces (you may want to click to enlarge for maximum creepacity, especially on #3), ghetto setup, and arrangement of the poles. I feel really good about my wilderness survival skills. It only fell in on us twice.
Journal entry:
Today I camped out in a parking lot in a ghetto tent to receive a year's supply of free frozen yogurt. 113 people showed up. 100 received the frozen yogurt. I was not one of those people.
We did, however, walk away with $20 gift certificates, sore backs, and only slightly wounded pride. I forgot to grab an extra sleeping bag, so we shared one on a single foam pad and cozied up under snuggies that our smarter roommates brought us before they went back to the apartment. We met some cool people. We watched Indiana Jones until 3:00 in the morning, until the violence and gore had numbed our minds and we couldn't remember what the plot was anymore. Somehow I woke up miles away from the pad on the cold, asphalt-hard ground. We couldn't find a single person in the state of Utah to give us a ride back. We felt like mighty homeless warriors lugging our haul up campus drive in our jammies. I now understand the novelty of a shopping cart. Please shopping cart man, don't be dead. You are a newfound inspiration to me.
Take note: Lurpiness is fantastic. She's wearing 4-inch high heels. Yeeaaahhhh...
Sarah and Melany, the un-roommated
Here, have a side order of man hug for the road:
You need to know a few things. First off, I am a victim of the public transportation system. First time on the subway, some smelly guy fell asleep on my shoulder. First time coming home on the bus, some old man sat next to me and told creepy jokes during the entire ride. Second off, I think I must be incompetent. My very very first time on the bus by myself, I got on the southbound instead of northbound bus. I arrived at work 1 hour late. The next day, I got on the 833 instead of the 830. I arrived at work 1 hour late.
So you see, I have some issues. I think I need to take more precautions. Today, campus bound, I sat in front of Santa Clause. He must have lost a lot of weight, his elves, and his sense of what's holly and jolly, because he was not looking or smelling his finest. I can't be sure if he was talking to me or the woman he was sitting next to; I chose not to make eye-contact. In either event, I was extremely flattered that he trusted me with his life story. A younger man, he got tangled up with the wrong crowd and fell prey to the cold-hearted-lover, hard marijuana. Marijuana must not've been good to him, because somehow he wound up in jail for a year, threatening to beat up the guards when they wouldn't get out of his business. Don't worry, readers, he could have taken them. He learned how to defend himself in the military, where he was always one step ahead of the enemy. In fact, he's always one step ahead of anyone. He's never killed a man. He never will. He doesn't think so, at least. But he could. It might be a nice challenge, in fact.
I love the bus.
Buy me one of these:
And I will love you forever. You want that a lot. This is what happens to people I love forever:
Obviously Jamba Thursday isn't enough for me. Is one football shirt and no chocolate covered cinnamon bears enough for you? If so, we can still work something out. Anyone like frozen yogurt? I've got plenty! That my friends, is another ghetto post for another ghetto day.
This Jamba Thursday: Peanut Butter Jelly Sandwich smoothie off the secret menu. I'll let you know how that goes.
Story.
2 girls.
One me. One friend.
Studying Accounting.
In the Wilk.
One boy.
Scratch that.
One man.
One attractive man.
Takes a sit.
At our table.
In the Wilk.
Man breaks out the small talk.
Over his Taco Bell.
Girls try to focus on work while happily conversationalizing.
Man lets out a burp.
Girls stare at computer screens.
Man dribbles beans down his chin.
Man does not wipe chin.
Man comments on how yummy Taco Bell is.
Girl politely agrees.
Man lets out another burp.
Scratch that.
Man lets out a belch.
Man lets out a royal belch.
Man offers a bite.
Girl explains that she already ate. So no.
10 painful minutes later
Man lets a couple more burps escape.
Girls make queasy faces at their screens.
Man gets up to leave.
Man offers girls to shake his elbow.
Man's hands are covered in beans.
As is his entire side of the table.
Man leaves.
Scratch that.
Unattractive hobo leaves.
Girls discuss chances that unattractive hobo was being for real.
10 minutes later
Unattractive hobo returns.
He was acting for a psychology assignment.
Scene was being filmed for a project.
Attractive man apologizes profusely.
Attractive man cleans table and walks away.
Girls feel good about life.
Attractive man should consider giving acting classes.
Girl would be first to enroll.
I always knew the "other half" of the human species would come around eventually. That's a lie. But in any event, they did.
The balloon's from the crazy Asian.
The sweets are from the skinny white guy and my boy Mandell (pictured in previous post).
The note's from a "secret admirer."
The only thing more wonderful than coming back to school after a crappy weekend of bed-riddenness and discovering a small heap of surprises is finding out that each surprise is from a different boy. I should've enrolled in college years ago. I love these guys.
In other news, come to my room if you're feeling down. I promise I have products that will make you the happiest girl in the world.
So, I run a drug counter?
Unfortunately, all that wasn't enough to prevent me from having a thunderous seizure on the floor of my largest class. About a thousand students. Way bigger room than my high school auditorium. It's chill. I made it about halfway through statistics before I could no longer hold back the beastly and 'sgusting hack attack. I got as far as standing up to leave. Then I saw the 20 students blocking my escape route on either side, and sat back down.
Don't worry, my friend had a water bottle and offered it to me after only 2 or 3 hundred upperclassman and half the BYU football team had located the source of the noise. Don't worry again, there was no water left. I beat the water bottle into compliance and was struck in the face by a massive ice block. That must've scared the coughs away or something, because I was actually fine for most of the rest of the class.
I took 1300% of my daily vitamin c recommendations this morning. Must be time to go to work and rake in the pocket change. I think I should be paid just for riding the bus each day. But that is a story for another post.
Life is awesome and great when I'm stuck at home so as not to contaminate everyone, sneaking out of bed and into closets when the house is empty to look for cough drops and my voice. Life is 1.8 times awesomer and greater when I'm on campus rockin' my favorite kicks at dances, staying up way too late playing Swedish Twister, watching boys out-dance Beyonce to "Single Ladies," getting through my online lectures by entertaining myself with the double speed and half speed options for watching Master Nemrow, looking extra zoobie for football games, and making time to revise run-on sentences.
I'm getting the best education here. So far I have learned:
-If you feed them, men will come.
-It is unwise to lose your phone, keys, and student i.d. all at the same time.
-2:00 a.m. is not after curfew; it is only after visiting hours. At this time, it is definitely ok to go outside and play "satan-worship" games as loud as you like with your FHE brethren and your FHE brethren wannabes.
-Crazy asians and skinny white guys make up 66% of the population of hilarious people.
-Root beer candies are not cough drops.
-Chocolate covered cinnamon bears are heaven-sent and probably loaded with illegal drugs.
-There's an unsaid rule that cold cereal is not up for grabs. Everything else is.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)