Facebook

I am deleting my facebook account. I guess I will just have to have real friends. No more internet friends.

Things That I Have Learned

I am now twenty-one, and I am obviously much wiser than I have ever before been.

And so, I have learned a few things on my way to this ripe old age.

1. I have zero balance and I generally bruise when I fall on... anything. As evidenced by my birthday present to myself, a fall down icy stairs and a gigantic bruise on my "whosiwhatsit". I'm putting a picture of it on here, but I will place it at the very end... just in case you don't really want to see it. But let me just say, it's amazing!

2. I have a very short attention span/tolerance for math, and for things and people that I don't like. However, I am determined to make it through and conquer College Algebra. And my other classes. Or else, this will most likely be my last semester in college for a while.

3. I hate smelly people, smelly rooms, smelly shoes, smelly anything smelly. (Smelly in the "oh my gosh, I think I might puke my guts out that smells so bad, and look my skin just crawled off of my body" bad smelly smells. Of course, I might be exaggerating a bit)

4. I am not very organized. But I am currently trying to overcome that. I'm trying very hard.

5. I do NOT wake up until I have had 8 hours of sleep. Don't be fooled if I'm talking to you while I am asleep, because I do do that. As such, I will be going to sleep early. At 11 pm MST. I want to function like a human being. And so I will.

6. Voting is important. Period.

7. My family loves me, quirks and all.

8. I love them, more quirks and all. LOVE!

9. I am happiest when I am doing what I am meant to be doing.

10. The gospel is an essential part of my life, and I love it.

11. I have learned most things the HARD way. Someday, hopefully, I will learn something the easy way.

12. I don't think the way most other people do. It's frustrating sometimes.

13. It's irksome when one person constantly tells you "you're weird, and I don't know how we're friends! But we are!" Personally, that doesn't sound very nice, or friendly. I mean, once in a blue moon, okay. But all of the time. It gets to be a little much. I might think things like that, but I don't say it out loud to them. Geez Louise.

14. I forgot what else I was going to write. So. Beware the picture below....

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

My Face and Finals

This. This is my face during finals.

I haven't even taken a test yet. Dang.
You'd think that my tests would be so afraid of my face that I would get A+'s on alllllllll of them. Maybe I'll get lucky and get a freebie pity answer...

Nearly Home

In a few days, I will be home. Come to me, Sanity. I am 100% looking forward to being with my family. I miss my family when I'm not close to them. I didn't used to think it would be so important to me, but my family is amazing. They are the coolest people I know. Seriously. It runs in the family. We're cool. Yes, they might think that I'm ridiculous most of the time, but, that is probably because it is true. As crazy as things get around home, these folks keep me grounded. Wooh!
And thank goodness for my parents. They wrangle me in. I miss family hugs. My family wasn't terribly touchy when I was growing up, but, when I went home over the summer, I squeezed everyone a lot. I plan on doing that again. I need all the hugs I can get.
I get some hugs here, but I usually end up getting a shoulder in my eye or an armpit in my face. I don't feel the love. I feel the awkward.
I'm also excited to laugh with my family. I always laugh until it hurts. Plus, I can be my nerd self and not be judged, because they all know that I'm a huge nerd already. Yay for family!

This post is incoherent. Mostly because I'm just thinking and typing at the same time and not studying for finals or working on my project... uh... I'll do that.

Hibernation

Yesterday, it smelled alright in my apartment, perhaps the gerbils were just in hibernation mode. But today, they are up and around, and boy are they smelly little buggers. I want to have zero noses they smell so nasty. If only the candles and air freshener would kill the smell. Exterminate the smell. Eradicate the smell. Basically, I wish it didn't stink.

DOWN WITH THE GERBILS!

(unless we actually have one, then I want to play with it...)

The Sky is Falling

Everything I can see out of my window is white. That's because it's snowing. There are large CHUNKS of snow falling from the sky. I have to go outside. While the sky is falling. I admit it's pretty. Maybe I'll be warm enough that I won't hate the snow this year.

Bob and Raisins

If it weren't for Bob Marley (I know I just blogged about Bob, but he really is great) and my raisins, I would have zero sanity. It's not that I was about to lose my mind or anything, it just happens that life has become stressful, in more than a few ways. And tonight, I was just sitting in my room feeling not overwhelmed, but whelmed in the least, and I saw my raisins and put a little Bob Marley on the old iTunes. These two gems have brought me back to my happy place, where I am completely zen, I sit back and let the good times roll. Even if they aren't going to roll anytime soon, they're rolling in my head, with Bob, and Raisins. Bob provides the sweet sweet... jams... tunes... blech, everything... and raisins. Raisins are squishy and wrinkly, they used to be grapes, who wouldn't like them?

So. Thank you Bob, for your music.

And thank you Raisins, for your squishiness.
Oh. And good hair days. Good hair days always are better than bad hair days. Here's a picture, it was a good hair day. And thank you genetics and shampoo. My hair is grateful, as am I.

Update: I have hot water again. And for now, at least my bedroom doesn't smell like gerbils...

Gerbils...

I don't know what it is. But my apartment smells like gerbils or some skanky smelling rodent. I can't handle the smell. It makes me want to up-chuck.

Seriously though, I know how to get smells out of pretty much everything, but we don't even have animals in our apartment. I've tried cleaning pretty much everything that I can, but it still smells. I don't know what it is. But it's bad. Real bad.

I don't want to curl up in my bed and find some hairy thing poking it's stinky face out at me. No sir.

And now there is no hot water in my apartment?

Give Me the Good Stuff, Bob.

I have no plans. No idea what I am doing after next semester, except for leaving Utah. That's about as far as I have gotten in the planning stage of my life.

There are infinite possibilities that I could theoretically pursue, but realistically, that number is extremely small. Mostly because I have no money. Most likely what will happen is that I will sell my soul and work my tuckus off for about a year, save money, and work on my portfolio. I will be a bum. A bum in my very early twenties. I guess it's safe to say that I'm moving up in the world. I suppose I knew this would happen eventually. But. I wasn't really looking forward to it.

But, on the bright side, if I really save enough money, then I could realistically go anywhere that I want. And what I will be doing is going to school. Somewhere. Somewhere awesome. Somewhere totally sweet. Somewhere I can have a dog! Sweet mother of pearl.

In the mean time, I am totally wigging out because that is basically all I can do. And that is because that is what I should be doing. Mostly because I haven't wigged out enough all semester to get my life in order and now, I am feeling massive amounts of impending doom because I have an awful feeling that a lot of my classes will not transfer to where ever I end up going. But, that could potentially be a very good thing. I just don't like the thought that most of the past three years of my life don't count for much, in the scholarly sense.

Luckily I have obtained massive amounts of Bob Marley music, and am completely zen. It's pretty... wooh. I don't know how else to describe it.

If only I hadn't signed up for a math course. If only.

Jamming.

Ain't no rules, ain't no vow, we can do it anyhow

I and I will see you through,

'Cos every day we pay the price with a little sacrifice

Jamming till the jam is through.

The Ultimate Goal - To Have a Dog

Wenn ich in Kalifornien lebe, kann ich einen Hund haben.

Translation - When I live in California, I can have a dog.

Last year I went to California with my brother for Thanksgiving. I loved it. I wrote down in my red journal a goal of mine. I wrote it in quite large handwriting, I think. Maybe I can find it. Wrong journal.

Anyway. The goal was that I would one day live in California, no more than 5 minutes walking distance from the beach, have a dog, and that I would eat at Normita's and have a Killer Fish Taco every Black Friday

I am still clinging to that goal for dear life. And now, I might have an opportunity to make it happen sooner rather than later. Cross your fingers for me so I can be smart and make the right decisions, because, I have certainly made enough wrong ones lately. I need to have a streak of the "smarts" and soon.

So, I will spill my beans.

For a while now I have been considering what I'm doing with my life, how in the world I'm going to accomplish the goals that I have set for myself, and where I would like to see myself in a few years. And so, the thing that always comes to my mind, transferring far away from BYU, came to mind. It always does. I really don't hate it here, I just sometimes feel like I would love it somewhere else. And, I realize that I could love it here, if I put more effort into loving it here. Anyway, I was talking to my mom, and she gave me sage advice, as usual. She told me that I shouldn't transfer just to have an escape, but if I was going to transfer I would have to have a real reason and a plan. I'm not sure if that's exactly what she said, but she definitely said not to transfer to escape. Escaping is one of my favorite pass-times.

I had to end the conversation because I needed to go to class. Then, in class, German class of all places, we started talking about different universities and where we wanted to go, if we were going to go on for more school after we graduated, how much longer we had left, blah blah blah. Anyway, I had been thinking about a school in California that has an advanced studies program in none other than Footwear Design. It's basically a graduate program, something that I hadn't realized. Anyway, I told my class about this, meanwhile we could only speak in German, which is fun, but kind of tricky, I think I speak more slang than anything. But I'm trying. On with the story, one of my friends in the class told me that one of the FIDM campuses is 15 minutes away from her parents' home and that I could live there, I laughed because I didn't really think that I would have any chance of getting in to the program, but this girl is pretty cool, and I'm sure her family is cool, and it would be nice to live with members, I know I would be safe at least.

After my classes were over I went home and, because of part of my conversation with my mom, I had an extreme urge to organize my bedroom. In the process, I unearthed my FIDM catalog that I had got in the mail sometime in early September. I just kind of put it on my shelf after browsing through it and deciding that it was too expensive and that looking at it would only make me more bitter. But, I looked at it again on Wednesday and I was just captivated. This school is seriously pretty cool. Anyway, after all of my cleaning and organizing, which I am not through with because I am a mess, I decided to watch a little tele. I watched Eli Stone, it happens to take place in San Francisco. Anyway, it's a beautiful place.

After the show was over, and I kid you not, approximately 1 minute passes by and an advisor from FIDM calls me. On her personal phone. At around 7 pm California time. Who does that? Really? No one does that. She asked if I was Ruthie, and of course I told her yes, duh, I am. She introduced herself and whatnot, then she apologized because she had JUST gotten my phone number, etc, telling her that I wanted more information about the school. Seriously, this is crazy, I requested information in September, or maybe it was August, and I got the catalog, someone had emailed me, but I just ignored it, but this woman calls me in the evening to ask me if I needed any help finding information about this school! Meanwhile, my mind was blown away, and running a million miles a second. I just kept telling her that it was perfectly fine and that I had just started thinking about FIDM again. I told her that I was already in school and that I didn't really have enough money to go anywhere else right now. She then proceeded to tell me that she could help me with the financial aid end of things and that there are lots of ways that she could show me that I could pay for school. I was happy. Basically. It turns out that there are also no portfolio requirements, just a project you complete for the major you are trying for. Hallelujah. I have no portfolio put together. Also, there are no transfer requirements. Holla! One tidbit of information that is vital to my master plan if I were to try to get into the Footwear Design program, which is my ultimate goal - to be a superbly wonderful shoe designer and everyone wants to give me free clothes in exchange for fantastic shoes...., (back to my sentence) I actually have to graduate from FIDM. Now. This shows me that they really take care of their own. I asked why they had that policy and my favorite advisor told me that they would already know that FIDM grads would have the training necessary to succeed in that program. Makes sense. Seriously, everything in my conversation with her seemed too good to be true.

BUT. I am not going to be making any rash and hasty decisions, nor am I planning on transferring before the end of Winter semester, no matter what I decide to do. Besides, I have no money. I can't move without money, also, I have no way of moving all of my junk, and I know that nearly all of my possessions are vital to my happiness, at least if I'm going to be that far away from every single one of my family members, I'm going to have my stuff with me. For sure.

I am going to think everything through in a manner that hopefully turns out to be mostly logical and not too too too excited. I am going to weigh all of my options and make the decision that will be best for me now, as well as in the long run. Of course, helpful advice is always welcome. And I mean that, I don't really want to be lost and running around somewhere by myself and not knowing how in the world I got there.

I suppose though, that running around lost in a place that looked like this, wouldn't be so bad.

Other than my extreme lack of money, and the fact that I haven't applied anywhere yet, there isn't anything holding me back from what I want to do.

A. My brother is leaving, he is graduating in April, and every time I am without family close by me in Utah, I tend to leave. Quickly.

B. I have no boy here. I don't have responsibilities or attachments to anyone but myself. I will still keep my friends.

C. Utah is cold. Very cold. Cold hurts when it lasts forever. And there is no beach.

D. I can't live anywhere and honestly have a fuzzy pet. I really want a pet, one that I can cuddle with. I have an extreme lack of cuddling. And Dot, as great as stuffed hippos go, and as loyal as she has been these past 16 years, I need something that cuddles back.

E. I know that there aren't as many members in California as there are in Provo, but, let's face it, I don't think that anywhere outside of Utah has as many members as Provo...

F. I want to have an adventure. I am almost 21. I want a fun adventure, and not one that I look back on and think, wow, I learned that the hard way. I'm tired of those. They aren't always very fun. I want some fun.

G. I like to be tan. I like to be warm. I like it when my hair blows in the wind and doesn't freeze my face when it touches my skin again. I like not having winter head hair. Everyone thinks I have brown hair in the winter. I am blonde. Honestly I am.

H. I like sand between my toes. It makes me feel free. I like to feel free. Right now, I don't feel that so much. I suppose I could change that. I will. I will feel free right now.

I am going to be happy, no matter what I decide, where I go, where I stay, who I know, who I'm with, or who I'm not with. I will be happy. And I am happy. And tonight, that is what matters.

Good Fortune and Mediocre Fortune Cookies

And so, my fortune has turned. Yes, it is still plummeting in terms of academia, but in other ways, Karma is smiling upon me. Finally.

• I quit my job, no more nasty burns.
• I will never smell like french fries or hot dogs again, unless I am currently eating said foods. (I don't really plan on french fries coming into my life anytime soon)
• Everything has been making me laugh, eventually.
• I saw two dogs on Friday afternoon.
• I'm starting to really organize my apartment.
• I'm watching Runaway Bride at 1:42 am. Voll süß! (Totally sweet)
• I can say "totally sweet" in German.
• I got paid, just in time.
• I ate Chinese food.

Speaking of which, my fortune cookie was dumb. (I hope Karma doesn't bite me in the patootie for saying that...) It said - You are always welcome in any gathering.

Okay then... that's nice I guess.

Let the good Karma keep on coming. I'm liking it.

Fried Chicken

I now know how fried chicken feels, if it could feel that is.

Last night at work I was changing the oil in the fryer and I caught my arm on a greasy pipe. It was hot. My arm turned a really cool shade of red. Of course, this was at the beginning of my shift. Woohoo.

But as the night went on my arm kept on burning, it felt like my skin was sizzling. Gross-tastic.

So now today my skin is bubbling up and actually looks like it has been fried. It makes me want to puke a little.

The end.

The Story of My Life

This sort of thing happens to me. A lot.

Recently I was talking with one of my guy friends when he popped into my apartment to say hello or something. He kept hesitating in saying this, telling me that he wanted to tell me something but he didn't know how to word it right. Now, when anyone says this sort of thing, especially when they add in that they are trying to say it so it sounds like a compliment and not something offensive, I just want them to SPIT IT OUT. I'm not that sensitive. I like to laugh. I can laugh at myself. I can laugh at other people... or with other people...?

Anyway what he finally told me was something like "If our personalities were different, I would totally be interested in you..." BAH! The funny thing is, that if our personalities were a little bit different, I would probably be interested in him too. We kept talking for a little bit and I looked at him and said, "(friend's name), maybe someday our personalities will be different..." We looked at each other, and busted out laughing.

I think that it was funny that he felt the need to tell me that. He's funny. I'm glad that we're friends. But, this sort of situation seems to come up a lot in my life. There's always that one "something" that is preventing things moving anywhere. Any insights? Please share. Please. Awkward moments gravitate toward me.

Ratigan

So tonight I reminded myself of Ratigan, from The Great Mouse Detective. For those of you who have not seen it, hang your head in shame. This movie used to (still does) terrify me, simply because of the Rat. Here is his theme song. I am not kidding. My ugly mean side reared its nasty head. Don't worry though. I turned back into Basil of Baker Street. Okay, so maybe a little less self-absorbed. But, now that I think of it, perhaps I am more self-interested than self-absorbed... maybe both. Who knows.

Ratigan, The World's Greatest Criminal Mind

Basil of Baker Street, The Great Mouse Detective

Hair Booger

For the past month and a half, one of the bathroom sinks has been spewing back all of the water that we try to put down it. It was disgusting. The sink would get totally coated in this yellowy brown film and it smelled. No use trying to spit toothpaste down that sink.

Last night, I braved the sink, thought I would just clean it, so it wouldn't make me gag if I dropped something in it. Again. I looked down the drain and saw something in there that looked unusual. I looked in the other sink and it looked clear. So I grabbed a plastic fork from Del Taco that we had been stashing in a drawer and dug it out. What I found was seriously disgusting. Beyond grotesque.

It looked like this. About that long too. But what made it worse was that it was COVERED in a blue-green sludgy slimy skin. Naaaaaaaaaaasty. Of course I had to show my roommate that was home.

But now the sink drains and it doesn't matter where the toothpaste falls, as long as it is actually in the sink.

Moral of the story: Hair is gross when it's stuck in the drain.

Buillon, Bands, and B-

Buillon - Prank on Roommate #2 was going to be good. So good. I put a cube of chicken buillon in the shower head. She was going to smell like chicken all day. I cut the cube up into a few little pieces because our shower head is weird and you can't really take the whole thing off. So, I stuffed the crumbles into the holes and then put the bigger chunks into the water pressure screw-thing. However, my evil plot didn't work because the water pressure was weird when she tried to take a shower, and of course no one knows how to fix it so the big chunks of buillon fell out. But the crumbles had to have gotten her a little bit, just not as much as I had hoped.

Now my roommates all know of my plots, so I am going to have to take a little break from the pranks, just to save myself. Roommate #1 has been sneaky lately. She tried to plot with me to make sure she would be able to save herself from pranks, but I found out that she made the same deal with Roommate #2. Oh, she should have known. I am too smart for these games. I will rule. Bahahahahaha!

Anyway, I have an idea for prank on Roommate #3. It's too funny. She's such a deep sleeper, I can pull it off. Hehehe.

But I have to be careful, because Roommate #1 has threatened the way I smell. She said that if I did something mean that I wouldn't smell like myself for a long time... Creepy. Besides, I wouldn't ever do anything really mean. Just funny. Duh.

Roommate #1 is still a little miffed by her IcyHot bumbum. Ahahah. I'm so glad it was her that popped that squat!

Bands - I am learning to play the guitar. Mostly because I think it will improve the quality of my life. I'm a rock star. Basically.

Bah! If the shoes don't make me famous, I will be famous in some other way. This can work.

B- - Okay, I have a mattress in my living room. It's great. I think it's the best spot to sit in the room. So, I didn't really have anything to say about the B-. I just wanted to write it.

Oh. I have a job. It's seriously going to make a dent in my social life. a) Because I smell like fried everything and a hot dog (the buns are HUGE) b) I work every freaking Friday night c) I work by myself d) it's in a bowling alley e) I wear a hat.

My job's redeeming quality is that it pays me. Not very well, but it pays actual money and not in bartered things. I'm okay with that.

I will be looking for other jobs, and additional jobs. Maybe this job isn't B-. It is C-. Probably.

Let the Games Begin

I guess if you don't know there is IcyHot on the toilet seat, it burns more. Bahahaha.

Roommate #1 never knew what hit her. But she figured it out, that only made it better. This is gonna be good. Oh so good.

One down, two to go.

I've Been Tagged

How could I not honor a tag. Especially from Breezi.

The rules: Answer the following questions with one word answers and pass it on to seven others.

Here are the questions:
1. Where is your cell phone? bed
2. Where is your significant other? somewhere
3. Your hair color? Blondish
4. Your mother? wonderful
5. Your father? wise
6. Your favorite thing? life
7. Your dream last night? bizarre
8. Your dream/goal? shoes
9. The room you're in? front
10. Your hobby? music
11. Your fear? stinking
12. Where do you want to be in 6 years? happy
13. Where were you last night? home
14. What you're not? old
15. One of your wish-list items? dog
16. Where you grew up? Pennsylvania
17. The last thing you did? cooked
18. What are you wearing? blue
19. Your TV? Nonexistent
20. Your pet? Taz
21. Your computer? handy
22. Your mood? mellow
23. Missing someone? always
24. Your car? wishful
25. Something you're not wearing? socks
26. Favorite store? Anthropologie
27. Your summer? interesting
28. Love someone? yes
29. Your favorite color? orange
30. When is the last time you laughed? today
31. Last time you cried? Thursday

sadly, I don't know seven people (that have a blog...) so, if you want to do it, be my guest.

Portfolio

I have started to really work on my portfolio. And now, I'm quickly realizing that my talent is fading. So. I'm determined to reteach myself how to draw. And paint. Etcetera. (I've always wanted to spell that out but I didn't have the guts to do it until now)
I don't want to do anything but draw or rub my hands around in my paints. I have tried using watercolors with my hands. I don't think it will work.

I've done some drawing and painting recently but I know that if I'm going to actually turn this in, for people to judge whether or not I can get into a competitive program, I am going to have to work my tail off.
Anyway, I think I like art more than some people. Okay that might be a little severe, but, well, definitely true in some cases. Once I get started on something, I just want to be alone in my purple leggings and just... do. I love it. But I don't think it's good for my social life. That's okay. I'm still young. I'll make sure to take breaks. Maybe.

There's no looking back. I'm going to get better. I will love it. I already do. I'm happy with where my life can go. BUT. I have a lot of work to do and I can't take any art classes unless I decide not to apply for Industrial Design.

This is all for shoes. And it will definitely be worth it. I'm sure.

Fudge. Yum.

I made fudge. It is almost gone. Less than 5 hours and a huge batch of fudge. Peanut Butter and Chocolate. Out of my apartment and into the stomachs of other people. I am going to have to make another batch.

The Brittany Apartments are going to have one fat fall season. I'm that good.

Good Goo

Ace. I've come to the conclusion that oatmeal and cream of wheat make me a better person in the morning. Who knew. I like it though. I'm full of warm goo and at 10 am, I'm a nicer person. High-fives and A+ all around.

Rubber Cement

I love rubber cement. I found mine yesterday and since then I have been happily rubber cementing. It's gooey and sticky and you can roll it up into little booger balls. It's great stuff. Who wouldn't like it? No one that I know. This is one of the things in the world that helps me to know that "Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Clause." No. Not really, but it does make me happy. It smells SO good! Okay, I haven't been sitting around smelling rubber cement.

Rubber cement smell is definitely up there with gasoline, go karts and clean laundry straight from the dryer.

I remember when I was in elementary school and some kids I knew in the "smart" classes would sit around smelling the rubber cement and permanent markers. I remember thinking, no lie, "they're getting high..." That's why I was in the "smart" classes.

Side note - this is the kind of rubber cement that I have.

It's the simple things in life that really count. Honestly.

Missing Grime

This mural is a few blocks away from my house. (Isn't it amazing?) I really miss the murals in Reading. (Yes, I'm from the city)
Okay, I don't really miss the ghetto all that much, but I do miss the eastern side of life. I miss reggaeton music blaring out of car windows. I miss the grime. I miss parallel parking and tiny yards and rain puddles. I miss my family and my friends that are far away. I miss my dog. I miss familiar smells.

I'm very happy that I grew up in Reading. I know that I can handle myself in a lot of different situations. I know that I can take care of myself in... strange situations. I know that not everyone you meet on the street is going to give you a hug and a plate full of treats. I know that life isn't easy for everyone. I also know how to be sassy (my favorite part).

It's so different out here, and I think I'm ready for something else. I am aching for a change, or maybe something a little more familiar. I want to do something, or go somewhere where I can really find out what I'm made of.

So maybe I'm not homesick. I'm nostalgic, in a good way.

Oatmeal

I am eating oatmeal and I feel that my life is improving. It's great. Who knew that warm goo could make your life feel oh so good? I didn't, but I do now. Oatmeal is the way to go.

Today, I was walking across campus and I saw this guy pick his nose. I gave him the stink eye. He knew I saw what he did. How nasty. He glared at me, like I did something gross. I wasn't the one walking across a crowded campus digging for gold.

Okay, honestly I don't care if you pick your nose, I just don't want to see it. And maybe have a tissue on hand. In hand. At least around.

Aging

I am not old. But when I am old, I certainly have to right to be an old wrinkly and crochety woman. Seriously, I grew up on the East Coast. That automatically gives me the right to be a crotchety old woman whenever I become so inclined. Honestly. I am only 20. No one can predict what kind of old woman I am going to be. However, I do plan on being extremely foxy and have great shoes. But the shoes goes without saying. What if I really wanted to be crotchety? I can be sweet and crotchety while simultaneously baking a five layer cake with homemade frosting, it will of course be delicious. I'm just amazing like that. Besides, being old entitles people to be able to be a little crotchety once in a while. And crotchety people do know how to have fun.
Okay, so I have to confess that just being crotchety, in and of itself, sounds a little fun...

My Face and Math

I am taking a math class right now. This is what happens to my face when I think about math. Anything with math. Counting. Subtracting. Dividing. You name it, I think it, my face does... this. It's great.

I just hope my face doesn't get stuck like this one day. Grownups always said that if you make weird faces, someday your face will get stuck like that. Well I guess we'll see what happens. This is what I get for taking a math class.

Sugar Daddies...

So, quite a few years ago, one of my teachers asked me what I would do after I graduate besides marry old men for their money. I thought it was weird that he would ask me that, after all, I looked perfectly innocent, okay probably not.

Anyway, I am pretty broke right now, and I keep looking for jobs but no one calls me back. But I was trying to think of ways to get money, and hello, who doesn't want a good ol' sugar daddy?! I like to get presents, not gonna lie. So, I was talking to some friends and we got on the subject of sugar daddies. One of my friends told me about a website where you can sign up, kind of like a dating website, but for... sugar daddies, sugar mommas, and sugar babies. It's very sweet.

So, I thought it would be funny to see what kinds of people actually sign up for these things, and I created an account. Then I was looking, and some of the guys were kind of creepy, but, I have to admit, that 68 year old was quite the looker... whoop. Just kidding, by the way.

Sometimes when you don't have good luck with dating in your own age group, you have to expand. But personally, I will stick to guys closer to my age than my dad's. I just think it's a good idea.

Anyway, I tried to cancel my account with SugarDaddyForMe.com and it wouldn't let me! Can you believe it?! And then, tonight I got mail from some sweet Sugar Daddies... Oh fun. One was like, IM me please, and the other guy said that he really liked the way I described myself, of course, I have no idea what in the world I wrote on there, and I can't figure out how to look at my profile... whoops. Sadly I couldn't read their whole messages because I never paid for my account, and I was not about to give them my credit card information just so I could read some wealthy men's messages to cute little me. Tempting, but no. Besides, with my luck, it would be someone like this guy.

I suppose I will have to find another way to get money other than being someone else's Sugar Baby. Oh well. Sorry to dash the hopes of my 9th grade history teacher. He was a great teacher though. I never could figure out why he thought that I would be the one to marry old men for their money.

Don't judge me, this was all a joke. It was funny. Until I started to get hit on.

Cracky Elbows

Once again, personal hygiene has failed the 20-something year olds. Why is it that my generation is so inept when it comes to taking care of themselves, particularly when it comes the those pesky little elbows. It’s a simple thing, really. When you are in the shower, take that washcloth, mitten, loofah, or whatever you scrub yourself with (hopefully you scrub), and have a hayday with those elbows. I wouldn’t normally recommend doing this every day, but for most of my peers with crust-laden elbows, today I will insist on using some good old fashioned elbow grease and make your… elbows smooth. Then, when you are dried off, put some lotion on your elbows. Yes it is the desert, but that’s why science has brought us the miracle of LOTION. No one wants to wonder whether or not your skin is going to fall off in large chunks and maim them. Believe me.

The Grading Process.

I think that it is important to say that I've been giving pretty much everything a letter grade. Usually it's A+. But, recently, things have been getting other grades...
I like a lot of things, and I really like to say A+. It makes me feel good about life. Try it. You'll like it.
A+

Stinky Feet

Okay, so I am not a foot hater. I just want to make that clear. But, I do hate what some people do, or don't do, with their feet.

I honestly used to think feet were way cool, at least, I used to draw them all of the time, they were hard to draw and I was determined to become the MASTER at foot drawing. I am not sure if it worked or not, but I was certainly the guru in my highschool art class, at least in my mind. I thought I was A+. Basically.

Anyway. When I was little I came across a few stinky feet. It's expected, little kids don't always have the best personal hygiene. But now, I've lived a few years, and you know, it's something that you would think would be common place for adults to have good personal hygiene. Even when it comes down to feet. I have run into more excruciatingly and painfully smelly feet since I have been in college than I had ever before encountered. Seriously, just because Mommy isn't here, doesn't mean you can't wash your feet. I understand that sometimes the smelliness can't be helped. But the lingering smell can. I know it can.

There are so many products to help those with stink-tastic feet not be offensive to others.

For instance, soap. Take a deoderant soap, plenty of water, and scrub those suckers. You can soak your putrid feet in rubbing alcohol if they are really disgusting. Of course then your feet will smell like rubbing alchohol. But in the case of smelly feet, you take what you can get. Almost anything is better than smelling feet. Gross.

Free remedy. Put orange peels in your shoes. It really works. I have tried it before. I had a friend with very smelly feet, and I secretly put orange peels in her shoes when she was away for an extended period of time. It helps. A lot.

But really, if you are going to insist on not doing anything about your smelly feet that stink through your shoes, do not insist on putting your feet near me. I smell everything. I definitely smell your feet. And shoes. And it makes me want to curl up into a ball and cry.

Maybe it's not that severe, but close. Stinky feet = F-

Blogging. It's official. I am blogging. Mostly because I think that my thoughts are pure gold. Bahahah. I'm not kidding. I'm a genius. Anyway, I think that I might not lose my mind as quickly if I have an outlet to let my thoughts flow freely from my brain out into the unsuspecting world. Here goes nothing.