NAPALMLOVE

The rat post

2006-08-24T16:07:00.000-04:00

4PM. I'm drunk already. I can attribute this to the fact that staying up for as long as I have at this point becomes positively boring and I've pretty much gotten to the point where I'm bored just sitting around the house. I don't wanna go outside. I don't wanna read. I don't wanna talk to people on the Internet. I don't wanna play Super Nintendo.

Okay, I kinda wanna play Super Nintendo.

Not the point. I was going to talk about my rats. Because I have thoroughly worn out the subject to every single person that I talk to, and they don't want to hear about them anymore. I, however, do not tire of speaking of them yet, and I figure they deserve at least one post. I know this kind of sucks without pictures, but I totally smashed my camera all up and there's still pieces of it hanging out on the other side of my room and so it's not quite working. Bear with me.

First off, I wanna say that rats have a bad rap. Like, really bad. I know, in Willard they ate all sorts of people, and they like destroy pipes and farms and shit, but this is way different. These are like, fancy rats. Like say you have a snake, and you buy a pinkie to feed it, but then you just decide to raise it instead. Nice, healthy, clean, shiny rats. They're fucking smart too, and bond really well with people.

I currently have two girls, Melvin and Buford. I don't plan on getting any more. Anyway, when I bought them I went in there expecting to come out with a hamster, but I was quickly swayed into purchasing a rat instead, being told that they're pretty much the same to take care of. I should go back in time and give the guy who said that a swift kick in the ass because he has no fucking idea what he was talking about.

Rats are so much more expensive. Oh man. They have to have like pretty fucking big cages, and they'll eat forever, and need constant stimulation from toys and houses and whatever else, and shit to chew on, and all sorts of shit that I did not initially agree to. But you know what? They're worth it.

Okay, I promise I will stop talking about rats now. For at least a month, because believe me, while this is only the first mention, it will get worse. Woo boy.

Returning to drinking now, sorry for the interruption there.

HEY

2006-08-24T06:22:00.000-04:00

I just realized that I do want to post here! What happened to the fun-loving rambling Sami days of yore? I'm not sure exactly, but perhaps I can spurt off some random bullshit that makes myself giggle and all my old bloggy friends will come and join me in laughing at my ineptitude for writing.

Of course, most of my old bloggy friends have deleted their blogs, or unlinked me, or aren't speaking to me. Whatever! I will find new old bloggy friends who will put me on their blogrolls and absorb my every word as though it were the Lord's mana falling from the sky. Hey look, a bible reference! Is she a Christian now? Has she turned over a new leaf?

HAHAHAHAHA no really, stop that ridiculous pondering. The other day I forgot that Jesus was ever a person instead of just a phrase. SO EDGY AND HARDCORE AM I IN MY ATHIESTIC WAYS.

Okay sorry. Anyway, it's 6AM, and I just woke up like three hours ago. I'm on day 5 of my quest to return my sleeping habits to normal, and I swear today is the day. No more going to bed at 2 in the afternoon, or waking up at 9PM. I will get over this.

Uh, that's it. I'd try to wrap this up neatly, but perhaps I will just not.

Uh...

2006-08-20T14:07:00.000-04:00

I'm ignoring you! Giving you the cold shoulder! Do something about it!

P.S. You can't.

STFU

2006-06-06T02:50:00.000-04:00

It has come to my attention in the past several years that everybody and their best friend has defined the acronym STP in every way possible. I have made a list. Enjoy.

Standard Temperature Pressure
Signal Transfer Point
Shielded Twisted Pair
Secret Tweaker Pad
Stone Temple Pilots
Solar-Terrestrial Physics
Spanning-Tree Protocol
Science Training Programs
Society of Turnaround Professionals
Straight Through Processing
Standard Test Procedure
Strategic Technology Plan
Same Time Post
Software Test Plan
Serious TLA Plethora

This is too much. One of you guys has to win, and everyone else should just think of some new words for a new acronym or just shut up and go away. I vote for Sublime. To help out the losers, here are some new acronyms I have made up that should suit you just fine.

AHLCF - Accepted Heat Level and Compression Factor
IXP - Indicator Exchange Place
CCT - Covered Curly Twosome
WINNERS!
BTIDCA - Band That I Don't Care About
ETPH - ET Phone Home
WTFIT - What the Fuck is This
NIT - Nerds in Training
TIFB - Takin' It From Behind
CIL - Cutting In Line
TWTDT - The Way To Do Things
SWYLAMB - Stop Wasting Your Life at Message Boards
Nobody cares.
I made this up.

In conclusion, uh, do good on ur finals everyone

Leaving & Returning

2006-05-31T17:57:00.000-04:00

Blogger broke this for a while. I hope that I am still linked to all of you people's fabulous websites and also my massive amount of regular traffic does not take a hit from the downtime. By this I mean like ten of you came here one time and it was pretty cool.

I spent Memorial Day in the BIG CITY! of Wheeling, WV where there was WHEELING & DEALING! and also the WHEELING FEELING! and also the VDOVJAK ATTACK! and etcetera. Good luck with that last pronunciation because I heard about it six months ago and I am still slightly confused. I sat on my friends green leather couch and drank beer and ate cheeseburgers and watched the sun go down for three days. I'm sorry that I had to leave.

In two weeks Rachel and I are moving into our house, where we will be big important adults and pay bills and have jobs and trash days and be responsible. I'm not sure how well this will turn out considering that I am so bad at responsibility that I am still carrying around a hundred dollar check from my mother I was supposed to put on my credit card two weeks ago. I do not enjoy finances.

I still have this heart shaped frame sitting on the air conditioner. Alysha gave it to me for Christmas and it is adorable and empty. There are a handful of unsent cards in my desk drawer. I don't know what's going on with all of this or why I am writing about them. I got a coupon for a free haircut three days after I cut all mine off. I still can't stop smoking. This should be bad poetry.

Like a long lost friend

2006-05-23T00:31:00.000-04:00

Enjoy us with Craig. While you're at it, mourn for the five or so inches of hair I so easily parted with this past weekend. Tears may also be shed at the terrible unphotogenicness of myself, especially when compared to my female counterpart.

I've had some things lately that I've wanted to write about, but I haven't really had the exact words, or even the balls, to do so. I know it's not wise to even have a blog if you're uncomfortable with your thoughts being put on display for scrutiny, but lately I've been feeling just that. I don't really feel that exhibitionism that I once I felt on the Internet. It now feels like such a small place, where every move can be monitored and everyone can tell if you're thinking about them and who's fucking who and who's on drugs and who dropped out of school and who's poor and who got ugly, and sometimes it makes me question how much I want people to know about me.

I know that a few posts ago I ripped on Livejournal for its easy privacy, and the people utilizing that feature, and I still agree with it. I'm an Internet superstalker and them's the breaks. But maybe when it comes to myself I'm a big hypocrite. Callin' myself out on that one.

I want to try harder at everything, but I'm not sure I have the patience or the stamina to do so. Lately I've felt emotionally (and financially) drained and I'm not sure how much I can keep up with college in general. We move into a house in three weeks or so and right now I'm really looking forward to working a job that doesn't require me to think and attempting to drink myself into oblivion this summer. I don't want to have to think about where I've been heading in this life or who's coming with me. I don't want to think about much of anything, and I'm pretty psyched for the opportunity.

Enough rambling.

Watch this and don't shut up.

2006-05-21T23:06:00.000-04:00

-flash" width="425" height="350">

Oh man, lazy.

2006-05-07T18:04:00.000-04:00

My favorite weekends are the ones where I don't do anything. Would you like a list of what I have accomplished since Friday? Here it is:

Watched Back to the Future Part 2.
Watched Back to the Future Part 3.
Watched BASEketball.
Watched King Kong.
Watched Jawbreaker.
Spent $26.00 on pizza.
Read like every mission from Improv Everywhere.
Talked on the phone a lot.

Yeah, that's it. I was going to do laundry. I was going to write lab reports so I didn't stay up until 3AM tonight to write them. I was going to go to a friend's birthday party. I was going to do some accounting homework. None of that happened.

And you know what? I feel damn good.

This post edited because I'm a damn moron.

Fuck Livejournal

2006-04-25T00:45:00.000-04:00

I hate Livejournal. Know why?

Because every once in a while, I am an Internet stalker. Hell, the Internet is like my super power, almost, I can find anything on the Internet faster than anyone I know in real life. (I am purposely discluding people I know online, few that I do, some of much bigger dorks than I am.) Mayhaps I should clarify that a little bit to add that I can find anyone on the Internet.

And that fucking Livejournal? Hells no I don't want to be your friend on Livejournal just so I can read all your stupid surveys and try to figure out who you really are. It's called stalking for a reason. I can't just get all out in the open about it. I don't have the upper hand that I try to maintain if I have to leave you a wussy little comment pretending we're friends and I won't make fun of your bad poetry.

So, everyone just go deprivatize that shit or go get a Xanga and stop with this secretive bullshit. How else am I gonna stay in the know if I don't want to talk to you?

the one where i talk about my life

2006-04-20T16:46:00.000-04:00

So today I realized that my Thursdays are actually more like Fridays than my real Fridays are. That kinda confuses my whole week up, and while you'd think it makes the week seem shorter than it actually is, in practice it makes the actual "doing stuff" part a lot more boring and longer. However, that doesn't matter right now because it's Thursday, and I don't have to think about it until 3AM Sunday morning when I try to write up lab reports with instant messaging interference.

That's really boring, I know.

I feel really gross and dirty right now due to a water main break in Athens. Yesterday I woke up to take a shower and a icy stream of water similar to a drinking fountain came out and it was one of the worst experiences of my life. It took me about fifteen minutes to wash my hair, and probably half of it was still dry when I was done. That really put a kink in today's plans of "sleeping until the absolute last second possible and then going to class", but only in that I wasn't my usual gorgeous self. Oh, bad jokes. Lovin' it.

I got invited to three parties this Saturday, and I'm still a little torn. First is the concessions shuffle, where we go to nine houses, all with different mixed drink and shot combinations. That sounds like a bad idea, personally. Next, Miss Julie invited me to a dance! party. I don't really dance a whole lot though so doesn't seem like that's happening. Until today, the shuffle was the plans but then Adam called and invited me to his super belated type of birthday party. I can't let a Graham down.

When I got back to Scott Quad today from lab -- wait a minute. I wanna talk about lab, just because we used a PBX, which is like office telephones with all sorts of special features and stuff, and the three extensions were named Dilbert, Wally, and Alice. The cleverness there kills me. --anyway got back from lab and there's Thad Bosetti, Marcie Neff, and Kristy Sickinger walking out of my dorm. Woah buddy, I hadn't seen those kids in a while. Marcie gave me one of the exact same kind of menthol strawberry starbursts that Alysha had talked to me about not two hours earlier. Oh man, the coincidences in life.

So, I'm pretty surprised at myself, actually, that I just wrote all these stupid silly little things about what happened to me today. Don't expect this often. (I know, I know, you're thanking Ganesh or whatever, fuck you.)

Interspecies Great-Grandma

2006-04-17T14:49:00.000-04:00

Almost four years ago, when I had a pretty terrible blog on my own domain, I made the following post.

if i took this cigarette and put it out on you...

would you love me?

Nobody got it, really, but it was a reference to the Acid Bath song "Jezebel" and my new cat of the same name. Anyway, about two years later, my senior year of high school, Jezebel was impregnated by a mysterious cat stranger and produced five kittens of her own, all of which were fluffy grayish tabby-looking things. We stuck them all out at my friend Alysha's house, where there's a lot of land and they wouldn't bother anyone.

Anyway, the fattest one was called George, compliments of my sister. George happened to do the kitty nasty with Alysha's cat Zeppelin, and well. Welcome to grandmotherhood, Jezebel.

a bulleted list

2006-04-12T00:49:00.000-04:00

I have been considering buying a Mac for about five months now. When they launched the Intel, it was a push towards the edge. Now Boot Camp? I'm jumping. Somebody get me $1300.
One of my favorite things to do this week, besides napping of course, is pulling up the back of my shirt in public and making people go "OH MY GOD". Heh.
Baseball. Who would've known it was this interesting? Somebody take me to see the Reds or the Indians. Even the Pirates. I don't have a team yet. I'm not picky.
Last week, I bought two boxes (they were on sale!) of Hershey's Cookies. We're talking 2 cookies per serving size, 8492 calories, and 26 grams of fat. What the hell is wrong with me? Thank god most of them are still sitting on my desk. Alternatively: thank god for willpower.
I wonder if Apple is paying for iPod product placement in the HBO series Big Love, or if the producers just assumed that nobody would realize it was an MP3 player if it wasn't an iPod?
I'm on an athiest mailing list, and recently got sent something about The War on Easter. This is basically a movement to hide flyers and copies of the DVD The God Who Wasn't There around churches between now and Easter Sunday. These flyers mainly target children. Even as an athiest, that raises moral flags for me.

This is my back.

2006-04-08T17:13:00.000-04:00

I urge you: be careful on wet stairs while intoxicated.

Blah, Blah, Sleep

2006-04-04T07:58:00.000-04:00

I might be, at this exact point in time, the most tired that I have ever been in my entire life. I'd like to take this time to thank all deities, major and minor, for the two hours of my Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays that is the 10-12 nap, and promise all readers that one of these days, possibly in the near future, I will stop talking about sleeping in every post.

You at least gotta give me until this Daylight Savings lag gets over. I was up until almost 5AM being coaxed into REM movement by file transferred lullabyes from Internet boys. It was almost worth the eyeball sagging, stomach gripping nausea and exhaustion I feel at this moment. Almost.

Nap, Interrupted

2006-04-03T13:26:00.000-04:00

This morning, I was just settling in for my 10AM to noon Monday nap, when the room phone rang. The room phone ringing when I'm here alone in bed is particularly obnoxious, considering that Rachel is the only person who gets calls on it, I'm on the top bunk, and if it doesn't get answered before the machine picks up, the machine makes this horrible BEE BOO BEE BOO BEE BOO noise that makes me want to fling myself down in an attempt to crack my skull open. So, as you see, I had no choice but to go get it.

What I received was the single most worthless phone call ever, that went something like this: "Hello. There are no problems with your credit card at this time."

WTF. I have no real ending here, so just assume that at this point I stole a car, drove to the credit card company, and gunned everyone down, before proceeding with my nap.

One day only

2006-04-01T15:18:00.000-05:00

Oh man, April 1st on the Internet makes me too happy for words.

Hrm..

2006-03-30T16:08:00.000-05:00

Oh wow bloggy bloggy blog, I forgot about you kinda. Whoops.

Anyway, it's a new quarter, I got a new schedule, new classes, books, teachers, the works. How goddamn exciting. At least for these next three months, I have many opportunities for naps, even though they are unfortunately at 10 in the morning, which is after two classes. Ouch.

So yeah I didn't write about the Apprentice, and I didn't write about my birthday and the Spring
convention, and I didn't write about the rest of my week at home. Also, I didn't upload the 100+ pictures that I took during said break. It's cool though, because as this quarter progresses, and I have more and more educational responsibilities, you know you'll see me here. Talking to you.

Procrastination is my salvation.

Open Letters to the Apprentices. Week 4.

2006-03-21T14:12:00.000-05:00

No real open letters this week. There is only one thing to say:

THANK YOU, MR. DONALD, FOR GETTING RID OF THAT BLABBERING IDIOT. AMEN.

Also, in case you guys haven't seen Brent's website (which I am sure he designed himself because it is that horrible looking), you should be made aware that he lost like 110 pounds since the show wrapped. BY EATING BAGLES. WTF.

Spring Break wooooooo

2006-03-18T14:54:00.000-05:00

So many things have happened in the two days since I have been home for spring break! Although in actuality they all happened yesterday.

LISTING TIME PLZ

New car! 1999 Geo Metro as I'm sure you've all heard as well as all of those other number that I have told everyone that I know so I'm not going to repeat them here.
Hanging out with the Margaret and buying stuff!
Hanging out with the Jesikah and looking at stuff to buy!
GREEN BEER WITH Chuck and Jeremy!
Also, Flogging Molly and Boondock Saints since we really wanted to play out the Irish stereotype of St. Patrick's Day!

Okay that's all I'm gonna say because you guys probably don't wanna read badly structured sentences about my life. Bye!

No comment.

2006-03-16T08:10:00.000-05:00

THERE IS A THING CALLED AN EXAM SCHEDULE.
It lists classes in a chart based on what day and time the first class meeting of a week is.
Based on this information, it lists dates and times of exams so that none of these overlap each other.
THIS IS A GOOD IDEA IN THEORY.

Why does it fail in practice? The same reason as communism, NOBODY GIVES A FLYING FUCK WHAT THE EXAM SCHEDULE SAYS. WHY ARE YOU PEOPLE SO FUCKING STUPID? WHY DO I HAVE TO REARRANGE EXAM TIMES AND LEAVE LATER THAN I'M SUPPOSED TO AND WAKE UP EARLIER THAN I HAVE TO? WHY THE FUCK CAN'T YOU JUST FOLLOW THE FUCKING EXAM SCHEDULE?! I HOPE YOU ALL GET AIDS.

Open Letters to the Apprentices. Week 3.

2006-03-13T22:00:00.001-05:00

Dear Lenny,
You are by far the best person that has ever been on the Apprentice! I love your hunky accent and your horrendous attitude. Please make some more jokes and more amusing facial expressions in the boardroom (where I hope you will not be many more times). You make me love Russia or wherever it is you're from.

Dear Charmaine,
I had you as my pick for winner initially, but I guess I was very very wrong. It was probably just because you're vaguely hot, anyway. You are so lucky that Theresa had no idea what she was doing, because you should've grown some metaphorical balls and told that comedian to fuck off instead of giving her $1700. You also did some other thing that made you a liability but I don't remember what because you have turned out to be not very interesting. You're off my list, sister.

Dear Loser,
I AM SO GLAD YOU GOT FIRED. You make horrible choices. Who the fuck organizes a classy golf outing to promote a fuckin sports utility vehicle? All the words you needed are in the acronym! Christ. Also, you should have been nicer to Lenny. And had a less annoying voice. And invested in some Infusium 23. SEEYA.

Who's the junkie now?

2006-03-13T02:37:00.000-05:00

Rachel used to make fun of my Mario addiction.

Yet, today the following conversation commenced:

Rachel: How do you turn on the Nintendo?
Me: ...what?!
Rachel: I don't want to talk about it. Just turn it on.

I guess seven hours of Mario 3 will do that to a person.

365 days

2006-03-12T14:01:00.000-05:00

I haven't been able to think of anything real to write in days. Weeks, probably. Okay, I was going to do a review of fucking cheeseburger a few days ago, but I couldn't contain myself from eating it long enough to take pictures, and without pictures, what's the point? I'll probably do that next quarter though, just to make you all jealous.

So where am I going with this? It's March 12, 2006, which means that this is one year of NAPALMLOVE, the ridiculous weblog title that doesn't mean anything, where the content doesn't mean anything, and where I may or may not update sporadically. GOD IT'S SO EMOTIONAL. Or not so much.

This blog is not that important to me. You can tell it's not because I don't try. I throw up some slop about the Apprentice and call it a good week. I heard a guy say something about the Backstreet Boys, fucking laugh at me. Or maybe this is all some crazy denial experience I'm having here where it actually is important to me and I'm just trying to save face by claiming that my blood, sweat, and tears were all just a joke. Your call.

Anyway, this is not the longest that I've gone with a blog, and this is by no means the end. I just thought I'd point it out so that maybe this post would mean something more than "I HATE YOU" and "I SUCK AT LIFE".

Happy Birthday, baby.

Overheard in A-town

2006-03-09T17:25:00.000-05:00

Guy: Have you ever heard of the Backstreet Boys?

Girl: Yeah . . . wait, did you just really ask me that?

Guy: Yeah, you don't seem like you know anything.

Um, hey look!

2006-03-07T20:50:00.000-05:00

I made it all different. Really different.

Things might be buggy around here the next few days. Let me know if you see anything that doesn't seem quite right. And I'm not referring to your lives, freaks. I'M TALKING ABOUT THE NEW LAYOUT.

I don't need anymore of your lip.

Open Letters to the Apprentices. Week 2.

2006-03-07T01:32:00.000-05:00

Dear Brent,
Why the fuck are you still here?
Oh yes - because you dancing in a bathrobe for some reason had the inane ability to draw people's attention. The only attention you would have drawn from me would be puking all over Times Square.
NEXT WEEK YOU WILL GO DOWN. Please do not be another Jim. I say this only out of love.
No, actually I think it might be hate.

Dear Loser #1,
All you had to do was get people to text message something and possibly win a razor or whatever. Where did you go wrong?
Could it be that only one person on your team set an alarm clock? And that person wasn't you?
This is the GODDAMN APPRENTICE. WAKE THE FUCK UP. You could've possibly had a chance.
I like typing things in caps.

Dear Loser #2,
Brent threatens you and you still manage to get fired?
You're a goddamn defense attorney. Brent is obviously an idiot. I do not see how there was much of a battle here.
You deserved it.
I have nothing more to say.

Sami, you stupid fuck

2006-03-06T22:02:00.000-05:00

I apologize if you caught the post that was temporarily here. While it was well-written (for once), it was completely inappropriate. I should've been much more pissed off, and less fucking emo.

Tonight I got my first real lesson in trusting people right off the bat. I'm not sure I've ever been so directly used or thoroughly disappointed in my life. It amazes me that people can be so cold. How can you talk to someone for months, pretend to be interested, and then be blatantly cruel so quickly afterwards?

I can only say I hope that I can take something beneficial from this, instead of what I immediately feel I've received: a huge blow to my self-esteem and my trust in men.

Apprentice report later.

Quoted on page 10

2006-03-02T15:06:00.000-05:00

On Monday night, Rachel and I went to Jeff dining hall to eat with the Toddster and his friend Alex. Upon arriving, I made a beeline for the bathroom, while the others waited in the lobby. When I was finished, I returned to the lobby to find Rachel discussing the proposed alcohol policy with a man holding a notebook. I, of course, took the opportunity to make several poor jokes, even citing a somewhat long and humorous anecdote that one of my professors had told earlier that quarter.

Guess who worked for the Athens News?

Some student concerns were less serious. For instance, sophomore Sami DeVille suggested that the university should provide the students with beer. (Actually, before the drinking age was raised to 21 in the 1980s, the university used to host beer "keggers" in dorm lounges and on residential green lawns.)
"We are paying for the faculty's binge eating so they should pay for our binge drinking." said DeVille, laughing.

Fucking great. My overweight accounting teacher is marking down my test scores as I type this. Way to grossly misquote me. At least Rachel sounds intelligent.

If you're interested, what I was trying to say with that last part was an explanation of what my economics professor would say about the drinking issue if he were us. Allow me to use a flow chart of sorts:

Rise in faculty binge eating -> rise in insurance premiums for faculty members -> rise in tuition costs.

In that manner you can almost conclude that their binge eating is costing us money, whereas our binge drinking doesn't cost them a dime. We all have our vices. At least ours only directly affect us. That was the point he was trying to make, I believe.

Whatever. You can read the full article here.

Surpriseful

2006-03-02T02:17:00.001-05:00

Today I invented the word "surpriseful", as illustrated in the below conversation.

Rachel: It's weird when sometimes you just send me random links to stuff, without even saying anything to me about it or telling me what they are.

Me: I know. I like to be surpriseful.

Rachel: Is that a word?

Me: IT IS NOW BITCH

I might have made that last part up. Nevertheless, it feels good to contribute to society.

Open Letters to the Apprentices. Week 1.

2006-02-27T23:13:00.000-05:00

Dear Brent,
You are the most annoying person I've ever met, and I've only seen you television. When you were the last person picked for the team (who you later tried to name Killer Instinct, because you're a fucking idiot), I made the comment "I bet this reminds him of being picked last for dodgeball. Fatty."
Well, imagine my surprise when you came on immediately after that reminiscing about being picked last in gym class. That is to say that I was not. At all.
I wish you were never born, and I yearn to hear Mr. Trump point his wealthy finger at you and say those beautiful words.

Dear Andrea,
From only your limited airtime, I am already thoroughly convinced that you are a post-op transexual. Between you and the fat one, I can only assume that this was the season The Donald decided to put ugly people on television.
Please do not talk anymore. Thank you.

Dear Loser,
You have obviously never seen this show before. When a project manager tells you do something, you do it. Regardless. That way you can blame it on them later when it doesn't pan out. Also, as you know now, when Donald starts in that serious tone of voice toward one person in the final board room, that means he is going to fire that person. That person was not you this time, but that didn't stop you from interrupting him and getting yourself canned instead.
Way to only last one episode. I'm not incredibly disappointed.

Love, Sami

Sami, you sappy fuck

2006-02-25T14:10:00.000-05:00

Basically, I could be mugged, stabbed, arrested, assraped, hit by a car, get cancer, fall into a coma, and/or have my feeling hurt very badly and this would still already be like the best weekend ever.

And that's not just because my fridge is full of High Life. (Which you're invited to come drink with me, if you'd like, because I've been working on it by myself so far.)

Also, whenever I wear glasses (which is almost never) I can't stop singin "Vivian" by Nerf Herder.

You've gone away to med school, and I've gone out of my mind.

WHAT HAPPENED

2006-02-21T22:07:00.000-05:00

FUCK I had something to say and things to do but that was like three hours ago before I got figuratively sucked into the Progressive Boink forums.

I've only been registered since like Sunday, after reading the site for over a year. (Way to get a move on, Sami.) But holy shit is it easy to just read thread after thread for hours and not realize what time it is until your eyeballs are fucking bleeding and your quantity of homework is threatening to take over your dormroom.

I scheduled for next quarter yesterday and would like to take this opportunity to give a big FUCK YOU to the person who decided it would be a good idea for college students to be at class at 8AM. Let alone schedule two classes in a row starting at 8AM and make those the only times they're offered. Thanks, COMT. It means a lot.

Whatever, I'm going to go drink some cherry Kool-Aid and pretend that life doesn't suck.

P.S. I'd like to give a shout out to the BFF aka The Toddster who complains that I haven't talked about him here yet, and mention that Cody is a grammar powerhouse and that this entry is not about him.

My life the shitty movie

2006-02-19T20:30:00.000-05:00

Almost every visit to T-County tries to outdo the previous one in suckitude. While the first half of this weekend was amazing, the last half was questionable.

Final Destination 3 (which I saw on Saturday FOR FREE) would make good metaphor for my weekend for a number of reasons:

I was very excited about both of them.
While I knew some parts were going to be terrible, I had no idea how terrible terrible could be.
The awesome parts were not as awesome as expected.
They were both overshadowed by their predecessors.
They both supplied some nice visuals.

Long live mediocrity.

I suck at life

2006-02-17T16:19:00.000-05:00

THE STUPIDEST PERSON ALIVE.

So, I'm still in Athens right now, even though Jeremy showed up last night to take us home. This is because I had an accounting exam this afternoon. From 2-4.

Guess who showed up at 4?

ARGH.

Yes, Garrison, this is your fault

2006-02-17T13:29:00.000-05:00

Alright, assholes.

I'm sick and tired of you all going on "hiatus" and "quitting blogging" and shit. I'm tired of editing my blogroll, and I'm tired of clicking on its links and finding a stupid brb message because you have "real lives" or "it broke" or whatever. Shut up.

Mostly, I'm tired of trying to find new blogs to replace you guys because YOU ARE THE ONES THAT I LIKE. Stop trying to ruin my life and destroy my nonsense time. I AM IN COLLEGE I need all the help with procrastination that I can get.

Next person to go on hiatus gets stabbed in the face.

Adaptation Miscommunication

2006-02-17T12:37:00.000-05:00

I hate it when there's that thing. That thing where how you're acting to someone else doesn't reflect to them the way you feel like you're acting. Or that thing where you want to act a certain way but then you think they don't feel that way, but they really do and then are disappointed that you didn't act the way that you wanted to act in the first place. Or that thing where they thought the same thing that you thought but about you not about them. And then you have to text message them casually and pretend that you're not talking about what you're really talking about.

I don't know why we feel like we have to do these things. Don't say 'I don't do that I do what I want' because you're lying. Our actions are directly influenced by how we think the people around us will respond. We are manipulative. It's just that some are better manipulators than others.

Now that I'm more aware of this, I need to read people better or express myself better, or just be better at manipulation in general. Because sometimes communication is just not my thing.

And secretly, this is a poor topic with a promising yet poor execution. I suck at life. And I just don't really have anything to talk about.

SORRY TOO BUSY.

2006-02-13T22:17:00.000-05:00

Well, fuck.

I was gonna put some pictures here like on Sunday or something. But I totally didn't. And then when I tried to today they were all fucked up and I'm way to lazy to organize them plus I have a plethora of things to do which include:

Finish my speech about donating your body to science. (Yes, yours.)
Do LOTS of Econ!
Play Mario All-Stars.
Read that book over there.
Get the fuck over myspace.
Secure me a school loan.
Pretend Valentine's Day doesn't exist.
Build a website for a frickin' COD2 clan for Jeremy. Haha.

So there you have it. Posting pictures is completely out of the question what with this laundry list of importance that I must fulfill.

But then again, there's always time for giant transexuals made out of snow, right?

Blogging is so much cooler when you're drunk. (As are most things.)

2006-02-12T04:51:00.000-05:00

Chinese.

Natti Light.

Toxie.

Mario.

THESE THINGS ARE THE MEANING OF LIFE AND DON'T EVEN QUESTION ME BECAUSE I'LL BE FORCED TO ROUNDHOUSE KICK YOU IN THE FACE ALA CHUCK NORRIS.

Pictures tomorrow that include such well received topics such as "transexual snow angels" and "how much beer can you fit into a microfridge".

If all else fails, remember, bitches ain't shit but hos and tricks.

To lighten things up.

2006-02-08T13:44:00.000-05:00

Okay, so that last post was a little hostile and ranty, so here's a nice list of light-hearted funny search-strings that brought people here. Enjoy.

what to do with napalm
hot little girl
suck girl
the athens jackasses
backseat mini skirt
do i love sami
fuck my hot mom

Hm. Actually, that wasn't so much "light-hearted" as much as it was "disturbing". Whatever.

I still hate feminists.

I hate feminists.

2006-02-08T02:51:00.000-05:00

Speech class talking again. My dirty hippie teacher who says "I understand" and "I respect what you're saying" as a way to validate her opinion as the only right one attempted to influence us with a stupid video about GENDER ROLES combined with alcohol. God forbid.

More stupid dirty hippie feminists came on and said things like "It's already hard enough being a woman". "When women are sexually assaulted people accuse them of deserving it". "I'm a stupid cuntrag who can't stop bitching because I have a VAGINA". Way to set girls back like a billion years, assholes.

Nobody says "she deserved it" or "she was asking for it" when a chick gets raped, except stupid fucking infomercials about how we're supposed to act. People don't pat rapists on the back just because they were drunk at the time and they have penises. Fuck that.

Sexism isn't going to stop until those filthy fucking feminists stop bitching about how we're not equal. Shut the fuck up. The gender revolution is fucking over.

P.S. Directly after this class I bought I pack of cigarettes. Cancer makes me feel better about society sometimes.

There are no words.

2006-02-05T21:29:00.000-05:00

I suck at post titles.

2006-02-03T15:23:00.001-05:00

I got home at 4AM. Drunk. Stumbling in the driveway. Eating leftover penne in the fridge. Trying to get my laptop to connect to the network but it WOULDN'T. Calling everyone I know. LAME.

When I woke up and went into the bathroom around noon, the puppy still hadn't seen me. He was wrestling with the kitty in the doorway, noticed me, looked twice as if to be certain it was me, and then attacked me with love. His puppy-eyes screamed "OH MY GOD I JUST FOUND YOU IN THE BATHROOM WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE OH MY GOD".

Everything the puppy says starts with OH MY GOD and is screaming and repetitive. What an asshole.

I forgot my toothbrush at home. (It's funny how when I'm in the T, Athens is home, and when I'm in Athens, the T is home.) I called my mom and the following conversation commenced:

Me: My mouth is gross and sad.
Mom: Look in the crack between the counter and the shelves. That's my old toothbrush. Sanitize it in boiling water.
Me: THERE'S HAIR AND MAKEUP ALL OVER IT EW.

Yes, that needed a quote to thoroughly explain. I did find a toothbrush and my teeth are content again.

Then I talked to Margaret for like two hours on the phone my life is interesting the end.

So

2006-02-02T23:58:00.000-05:00

I'm going home this weekend but obviously nobody cares because you guys all suck at coming here and reading my fun words and commenting about them. Whatever.

Basically what I'm gonna do it take a million pictures and some of which will contain my naked breasts among other body parts that are attached to me as well as to other people and keep you all in CONSTANT SUSPENSE of when I am going to post them so that you will all be forced to come here like every five minutes and comment "BOOBIES" 84 times a day at least.

Today I shaved my legs with the blade upside down inside of the razor. I told that to Cody and he said "well you should reshave them" and I said "FUCK NO" and then he stopped talking to me because I'm hairy-legged beast and nobody wants to be friends with hairy girls. Jerks.

P.S. Not smoking cigarettes sucks. A lot. But I will trudge on.

Also while I was packing I put lots of smell-good in with my accounting homework so at least while my accounting homework hates me I will try to hate it less because of its pleasant odor. As a side note: when I got my accounting exam back this week it was an A+ or so and there was a note on it that said "Acct major? If not and interested call Dr. Kirch" with his home phone number. I called my mom and told her that my exam said this and she said "Gooooood you should be an accountant", to which I replied "FUCK NO I hate accounting it is the bane of my existance."

I like the word bane.

It is already midnightish and DJ still hasn't gotten here to come get us and we will NEVER RETURN TO T-COUNTY and I am not complaining because I am very happy that DJ is coming to get us so THANK YOU DJ.

I am SO done rambling.

Shut up already.

2006-02-01T18:28:00.000-05:00

No, I didn't watch the fucking State of the Union Address. I thought it was tomorrow night, due to two poorly made Groundhog's Day jokes. Whatever.

You guys can stop talking about it now, please.

Microeconomics is kinda a big deal.

2006-01-31T18:04:00.000-05:00

I have the best Economics professor in the world. Actually, fuck econ, he's the best professor probably ever. And his name is PALMER.

First off, I was going to take a picture of him for this entry, but that would involve me sneakily doing it during class and just don't have those kind of skills. Also, I kept forgetting. But it doesn't matter really, because when you're in the back of the auditorium type classroom that my econ class is in, he looks just like Larry David from far away.

Just pretend he's wearing a striped shirt.

To make a long story short, this is a list of other reasons I love Palmer.

He fucking blares CCR while we're all coming into the room. Also sometimes opera that is not gay opera but kinda cool opera.
He always asks if we're copesetic with problems and stuff, and copesetic is very cool vintage type slang.
Occassionally he talks about how like 40% of our class is going to fail because they all talk to their stupid friends while he's teaching.
It took me a while to pinpoint it, but I can now say with confidence that his voice sounds just like Bill Motherfucking Murray.
He wears awesome striped polo shirts like I wore in high school. Except that he's a guy wearing guy shirts and I was just a douschebag.
Multiple times today he referred to most of the rest of the faculty as "chunky".

The only bad part about Palmer's econ class is the other people in it. For your reading pleasure I have compiled a list of reasons why they SUCK ASS and should probably not take econ with me because they are ruining my Palmer experience:

Every day they bitch about CCR and cool opera and say stuff like "GOD TURN OFF YOUR MUSIC IT SUCKS". Well guess what, stupid classmate, it is you who sucks.
They're also always like "WTF does copesetic mean anyway I'm stupid".
They call Palmer weird which he may be but it's defiitely awesome weird.
THEY NEVER SHUT THE FUCK UP IN CLASS.
They complain when he assigns homework by doing that exasperated sigh thing that's all annoyed but GUESS WHAT YOU'RE IN COLLEGE THERE'S HOMEWORK shut the fuck up. Christ.
They obviously don't respect the fact that he looks like Larry David from far away.

Okay now I have to do like 25 pages of econ homework because I'm super lazy and have been putting it off. But I still like Palmer even though I have to do all that homework.

Is everyone copesetic?

fuck i'm incoherent snap snap

2006-01-30T21:38:00.001-05:00

Last week, I gave what was possibly the BEST SPEECH EVAAAAR. I called it "Troma and the Fight for Truly Independent Cinema". You guys are all jealous of my imaginative and intriguing topic, I know.

What?

Troma what?

Shut the fuck up. Okay, nobody knows about Troma. WELL I HOPED YOU WERE ALL COOLER THAN THAT but I guess it's okay. Read: independent movies, the Toxic Avenger, gore, guts, sex, and comedy. Some people were highly appreciative of my choice of speeching.

Intolerance 85: troma freaks are few and far between
Intolerance 85 i would have gave you a standing applause like in the addams family when the wednesday and pugsly are gushing blood and the audience was covered and staring and the addams family stood up and clapped
SAMIneeds a name: that's the nicest thing anybody's ever said to me.

Seriously. I'm not fucking around. Read also: THE ADDAMS FAMILY GAVE ME THE
LIFE OF WHICH I NOW LIVE etc.

Yes, I'm gonna throw all sorts of fucked up language around in this post. That's because I've been thinking about writing it for like MONTHS and shit and I'm just now getting around to it and I have a lead-in and shit and if you're reading this far (which I doubt you are) then you're already HOOKED by my spell-binding story telling and I can say shit fuck good goddamn and it doesn't matter.

Moving on, when I was in 2nd grade, I wanted to be the head cheerleader. My favorite color was radioactive neon pink. I read Baby Sitter's Little Sister like it was my fucking job.

Fourth grade: I enjoyed black. I read Fear Street and Goosebumps. I wanted to be a country singer the likes of which hasn't been seen since Reba. (SHUT UP.) What caused this dramatic change in character you might ask?

FUCK NO it wasn't just the natural changes that happen to people when they grow up jesus christ.

In the third grade I watched The Addam's Family. CASE CLOSED. I tried to sleep like dead people and strangle my little sister. Now I watch shitty B-films about redneck cannibalistic zombies and laugh at people who exercise.

So there you go, a little insight into Sami.

I'm doing what?

2006-01-28T15:10:00.000-05:00

For the last two days I've burst into tears randomly for minimal reason. This is because my emotions were going completely nuts as my body suffered withdrawel from something that I've never denied myself: nicotine.

Yeah, I was actually trying to quit smoking. And I don't think anyone saw that coming, certainly not me. It was basically a spur of the moment decision.

My last cigarette was Thursday morning at 10AM and I made it until...last night. Yes, I got trashed and I smoked like three and I got really light-headed and I LOVED IT.

But I digress. I am going to quit. However I'm not really sure if the middle of the quarter is the right time to quit, what with the lack of concentration, coughing up bits of tar, and stress already an added bonus when you pay your tuition.

Then again, is my spring break, during my birthday, the right time to quit? Certainly not the beginning of next quarter...or the middle or end of next quarter. When I move into a house in June, out on my own for really the official first time, where I have to pay bills and work full-time? Is that the right time to quit? Or when I graduate and move back in with my parents, trying to find any kind of employment before I have to start making payment on student loans?

No. None of these times are the right time to quit.

Guess I'll just have to suck it up and stay with it. Boo.

No, Dean. MY Own.

2006-01-26T17:20:00.000-05:00

If you've just found this place in the last two days, chances are it's because of that Farmer, who has linked me in his last two posts. I would appreciate this more if the second of them wasn't because I'm "pretty desperate and like to get screwed over". He then referenced Christina Ricci as an example for the umpteenth time.

I'd like to take it upon myself to COMPLETELY RETRACT EVERYTHING THAT DEAN SIMON HAS SAID ABOUT MY OWN AND ANY IMPLICATIONS THAT MAY HAVE SPRUNG FROM THAT.

Going on, I'm not desperate, nor do I enjoy being screwed over. And! My Own is a fabulous show. Also, Christina Ricci was never one of the "My Own" idols, and it's basically impossible for her to be. Because the whole point of the show was missed by the Farmer. The siiiiiinging.

I JUST WANNA BUTCHER SOME POPULAR SONG SO THAT A TOTAL STRANGER WILL LIKE ME AND I WANT IT TO AIRED ON MTV. Why is that so much to ask? Why does this make me desperate? I prefer to think of it as fun-loving and adventurous and outgoing and beautiful and awesome.

And/or I want a chubby asian guy and a couple african americans and a handful of closet homosexuals and a poser punk rocker to prove to me that they can be MY OWN Jimmy Pop. I LOVE YOU BABY.

Now that I've cleared things up, continue on with your life.

SO HEY GUESS WHAT

2006-01-25T19:42:00.000-05:00

It's recently come to my attention that I hate this blog and it hates me. Actually, I've known this for quite some time now, and am a big filthy liar.

I did kinda try to do another blog thing earlier this month where I just kinda rambled on and on incoherently with no punctuation, but then I realized that that really wasn't very interesting. I mostly just liked posting bullshit in it when I had just woken up and still had sleep crud in my eyes.

So, you and me Napalm Love, we're gonna have another go at this. I promise that I'll update more than once every few months but you have to promise me that you're not going to be all fucking clingy and make me resent you for not having good posts. Because then it's delete time.

Oh yeah, and I was tired of looking at my stupid face. So I totally deleted my layout and that stupid picture of me and now here's a template and the obligatory eye photo. Maybe I'll work on that one later.

P. S. These links are getting rehashed and possibly some new ones added here pretty soon, so if you want me to add you or not delete you or do delete you or link something else totally random then just say something because I'm totally trusting and will do whatever you tell me.

What?

2006-01-04T23:10:00.000-05:00

What I want to do right now is sing the praises of the iPod. However, that's horribly tacky and overdone already and everybody already knows. So let's leave it at this: I received mine today, and already firmly believe that happiness comes in a tiny metal box with a clickwheel.

Moving on, I'm back at school. Things are already looking better for me than any quarter yet, mainly due to a cellphone with actual cellphone service (now if I only had friends) and a decent schedule that includes a job. As good as I've been so far (these whole two days), I'm still nervous I won't keep it up, but we'll see.

Did you know they sell Pocky at Wal-Mart? Or that I worked there over break? Damn straight, Farmer *ahem*, and I didn't even rock a mullet. In fact, I cut most of my hair off. No, I still haven't taken pictures of it, however I did take pictures of everything else in the world.

Wal-Mart wasn't a horrible experience. It was fairly amusing being on that end of low-class transactions, even when a woman came through with a single WIC coupon and four bottles of lice shampoo....while her kids were running crazily around my register. Good ol' Wal-Mart.

One day I was trying to fit three bags of chips into one shoppin bag, and the third bag wouldn't go in, so I kind of muttered "C'mon, you can fit in there". The man who was purchasing said chips looked up confused, and the following interaction took place:

Me: Uh...I was...talking to the chips?
Him: *nods understandingly* It's okay. I wasn't even going to eat them. I'm just lonely.

New Year's resolution? Don't get kicked out of school.

Debauchery in A-town

2005-10-28T10:05:00.000-04:00

Yeah, I live in Athens. Yeah, Ohio University is the number 2 party school in the nation. Yeah, we throw the third largest street party in the country every year. And yeah, it's tomorrow night.

I've been warned twice today that "omGZ da police want to arrest you and they're tricky bastards!". Now, c'mon. We've been through this before. And just because the "President" of the "University" sent out a "mass email" berrating us to be "good" this weekend, doesn't mean that I care at all.

Really, I just want to put on a costume and get trashed. Why is that so much to ask? Just because 100,000 other people want to do the same thing shouldn't hinder on all the fun. Some jackass ten years ago decides that it would be fun to light a couch on fire, and shit gets all crazy since then. Assholes.

Anyway, here are the list of things that I've been reminded about approximately fifteen times this week. Enjoy.

Don't pee outside. Anywhere.
You can't drink in your dorm room, even if your guest is 21.
Don't argue with the cops. Or tell them you're under 21. Or lie to them.
Keep your OU student ID on you at all times.
FORGODSAKE, NO OPEN CONTAINER ON SIDEWALK.

Duh, duh, and duh some more. Thanks for reminding me, because I'm a total moron, and I'm not even sure how I got accepted to this school in the first place. Jackasses.

I suck at life

2005-10-11T14:26:00.000-04:00

Soo....been a while, huh? I'm sweet at this updating business, let me tell ya.

Anyway...school is kinda crap. I suck at homework-ing and class going and studying and all those other -ings that constitute a successful college life. Eh, what can you do?

The financial situation was at an all-time low for a while there, too. I still owe $300 to my landlady of next year for a glorious little two bedroom loveshack just for me and Rachel. Oh buddy, the fun that will take place next year. I can hardly stand it.

Halloween is soon, and I have yet to figure out what exactly I'm going to do party-wise. I've been neglecting my Athens social life by spending the past two weekends at home. I'm actually even trying to find a ride for this coming weekend as well, much to my disgust at myself. Oh well, love makes you do fucked up shit -- and the T-County love is still going strong. Oh yeah. Costume-wise, Halloween is going to be kickass and you're all going to be jealous. Pictures are a promise.

Another thing I have been neglecting blogging for is the new Bloodhound Gang CD. Oh my, I am addicted to that thing. Jimmy Pop can marinate his nether rod in my squish mitten any day of the week. You think I'm kidding?

Of course, then there's Xanga. Damn you! Stop stealing my creative energy in short bouts!

Okay I'm done. Quit bitching.

That One Girl Everyone Hates

2005-09-23T14:56:00.000-04:00

I had three exams this week. Communications, Linguistics, and Philosophy. I didn't study for any of them.

We all piled into the insufficient classroom the day after our Philosophy exam, eagerly awaiting our results. When the professor arrived, he announced "Does anybody have a laptop or a Blackberry?"

No, why?

"Because I just emailed you your grades five minutes ago." You son of a bitch. I should have skipped.

"We're going to start Hume today, we've got a lot to cover." Goddamnit. Can I leave now?

"We'll discuss the exam during the last half hour of class." Pffffft.

After an incredibly boring discussion about the Enlightenment, he pulled out our Scantrons and passed them back. They had no grades on them. He did however, go over each and every question on the exam, some of which were incredible confusing and lame.

However, I did very well, with 21 out of 25 possible points. I was pretty excited about this, so naturally I opened the email with eager anticipation when I got back to my room. Obviously, there was a problem, or I wouldn't be telling this long, boring story.

The spreadsheet had me at 20 out of 25, tied for the third highest score in the class. Boo. I immediately emailed the professor, and after a few back and forths, we agreed to meet today at "oneish" to discuss my grade.

We soon realized that he has incorrectly marked one of the answers on the Scantron key, and everybody's grade was affected by this. He asked me to help him sort it out, and I read through both class rosters, stating whether the person's grade was to go up or down by one point.

I said down about 90% of the time.

He later sent an email saying that one student tipped him off on an incorrect marking and that everyone's grades has been altered. Ouch.

So yeah, today I'm that girl that everyone is pissed off at for being the whistle blower. Whatever, I now have the highest grade in the class.

Philosophize that.

Lacking

2005-09-22T11:21:00.000-04:00

WTF. Glassdog is on hiatus. Tequila Mockingbird has been on hiatus. Dean Simon is basically on hiatus.

My links list is looking a little barren. Do you have something for me to read?

I'm Tired of Eating Stale Bread

2005-09-19T14:29:00.000-04:00

You guys just don't give a shit, do you?

Things are gonna be changing around here real soon.

Turn the beat around, or some shit like that.

P.S. If any of you fine folk are traveling over from the Deli, the Farmer is MIA. But don't stress, he'll be back eventually. Just letting you know he's not dead or givened up or anything.

Chillin' at the Holiday Inn

2005-09-16T18:24:00.000-04:00

As you may know, I worked as a housekeeper at the Holiday Inn, New Philadelphia this summer. Yes, I've heard the "You want me suck you off?" joke about a hundred times. No, it's still not funny.

The most interesting part was when New Philadelphia hosted "A Long Night of Music", based on the one hosted in Vienna. The city flew in talent from Austria, among other places, and all of the musicians stayed at Holiday Inn. They received the kind of treatment that Elton John would get if he came to T-County, the top of the line where we come from. This includes:

a floral decoration from Baker's Florist!
a gift basket filled with things like chocolate covered pretzals!
a book about Amish people!

That's about it.

The highlight of this event was that Etage Noir was there, who consists of two almost identical, FREAKING HOT Austrian guys named Parov Stelar and Uwe Walker. At first I didn't realize that they were a big deal, but then I saw stacks of their CDs in their rooms (which were the absolute finest Tuscarawas County had to offer), at which point I contemplated stealing their trash and selling it on eBay Austria (if that happens to exist). Lemme tell you first hand, they are really clean guys, with a lot of hair.

Another performed staying with us was Brigitte Prammer. She was a weird one. Unlike the guys of Etage Noir, she couldn't speak English. Also, she walked into the room while I was cleaning her bathroom, and proceeded to shoo me out after I retrieved for her "shishoes". (Just say it aloud.) Later, out in the hallway, she was singing very loud opera music with a lot of splashing water in the background. This went on for a few hours.

Overall, I'd work there again. The work wasn't bad and I now have large biceps. I can't think of how to end this so here you are.

P.S. Isn't the Blogger bar getting a little crowded up there?

An Open Letter

2005-09-13T11:20:00.000-04:00

Dear Cleaning Lady,

I am aware that one item of "personal trash" - a single Mountain Dew can - was deposited in the trash can in the women's restroom. I am similarly aware of your policies on "personal trash" being thrown away in the restroom trashcans, or the trashcan being removed.

Don't get me wrong, I fully agree with this policy. You shouldn't be made to take out everyone's room trash, and that "includ[es] pizza boxes and Grab N Go items". People do need to take out their own garbage. This is a community, forgodsake.

However, I do believe that this one (1) empty Mountain Dew mixed in with a half-full bathroom trashcan does not qualify as a freaking out situation. I don't think you needed all of those exclamation points on the sign that you hung over it today saying "THIS TRASH CAN WILL BE REMOVED!!!!!!!!!". Also, I think that you could have taken out the trash since it is your fucking job, you lazy stuck up piece of worthless. Ahem.

I am sorry if you are unfulfilled by your career, however please do not take it out on the students.

Sincerely,

Sami DeVille

The Kroger Story

2005-09-11T16:06:00.000-04:00

As you all know, Mike and Alli came to visit us for the weekend. Yesterday, we decided to go to Kroger to buy food instead of them forking over $5.50 to eat in the dining hall.

I should probably mention that we were already drunk. And smoked a bowl in the car on the way there. Just mentioning.

Anyway, we picked up about seven things and got in line behind some old lady. Rach, Alli, and I were talking amongst ourselves, and Mike was zoned out looking at tabloid covers. He noticed that the old lady kept looking at him, but he wasn't really paying attention.

Then he started getting paranoid and freaked out, so he decided to play it cool and say hi. That's when she said "I'm sorry, but you look just like my grandson. He died last month in Iraq."

Mike stumbled over apologies and condolences. "Thank you. It's just that I never really got closure. I was wondering if you would do me a favor."

"Uh...sure," he conceded.

"When I walk away, will you wave back? And say 'Bye Grandma, I love you'?"

WTF, right? Well, he was like "Uh...okay," and went back to the tabloids. He saw her leave out of the corner of his eye. She waved.

So he waved back, and said "Bye Grandma, I love you," trying not to laugh. There was no hope for Alli, Rach, and me. We were kinda going off. (We're not nice people.)

So then the cashier rang us up and said "Your total is $247.61".

We freaked out and Mike was like "We only have like seven things!"

"Your grandma just said that you would be paying for her items as well," the cashier explained.

So Mike ran out of the Kroger, drunk, looking everywhere for this old lady. When he found her, he stumbled and fell, and ended up pulling her leg...

Kinda like I'm pulling yours right now.

Psyched

2005-09-09T20:02:00.000-04:00

Why the fuck am I in my dorm room at 8PM on a Friday night? For starters, it's because I'm a big loser. But mostly, it's because our sweet friend ALLI is coming for a surprise visit for her birthday!

Yes, I realize that sounds confusing, considering that we know about it. But it's a surprise for her, from her boyfriend Mike. He's just sticking her in the car and coming to us. The other surprise is that we bought her balloons and candy and stuff. I'm PSYCHED, to say the least.

So, HAPPY BIRTHDAY ALLI!

Another thing I'm psyched about is that I went to every class I had this week. This is a first in my college career. Be proud.

CONGRATULATIONS SAMI!

More psychedness comes from the fact that my beautiful Margaret and friend Justin are together, finally. This happened on Monday night/Tuesday morning. I found out about this about five minutes ago, mainly due to Margaret being a bitch and me hating her guts.

CONGRATULATIONS MARGARET AND JUSTIN! (Even though I hate you both.)

In other news, I just ordered a cute little Tiny Tote! from a one-woman operation known as prehistorik designs. This involves being psyched as well. You get to pick all the fabrics, and they're only $12 each. Plus the chick is a broke ass college kid like myself, so go give her your money.

That's about it right now. Pictures soon, I think.

A Night in T-County

2005-09-07T20:21:00.000-04:00

First off, I'd just like to point out that I'm on the internet, and in bed, at the same time. It is possibly the coolest thing ever.

Anyway, you know that friend of your that just spurts out illogical offensive phrases that everyone laughs off? Well, in our circle, that's Chuck. Chuck will straight up tell you that he fucked your mom in the ass last night and that you can fuck off. He don't mess around.

One night over the summer, we were at our usual hangout spot out in BFE with a lot of people that we had never met before. They were basically a bunch of young redneck assholes and one thirty-year old slutty chick that showed up because they knew a "friend of a friend" or something.

At one point, Chuck told them to lick his balls, which is really not surprising, considering that he's that guy. Of course, the rednecks and the thirty year old didn't take that too well. At first, it seemed as though the night would end without and hits thrown, and then Chuck tried to leave.

After Chuck got into his car, one of the guys wrapped his first up in his white t-shirt and punched out the driver side window. Basically, all hell broke loose. Everybody was up in each other's faces, screaming, pushing, and generally losing their heads.

The girls and I tried to calm everyone down, every girl that is except the old one who just kept yelling "I'm a bitch! I'm a bitch!". Yeah, we couldn't figure that one out ourselves, lady.

Eventually things got right to the point. Jeremy threatened "Seven days to replace that window, or you're going to have to replace your teeth." The kid claimed he was trying to stop Chuck from driving drunk, and that he would replace the window. He spit his information out quick and easy. The rednecks left, and things calmed down a bit.

Then one came back. "Somebody punched my girlfriend! I've got a nine millimeter in my backseat!" Blah, blah, blah, buddy. My Uncle Ryan took care of that one fast.

"You know how to sit down? Here, let me show ya," he instructed, pushing the kid back down into the driver's seat of his car. He then slammed it into reverse and said "Get the fuck outta here."

The worst part?

Chuck still doesn't have a window and all teeth seem to be accounted for.

P.S. Happy 2nd Birthday P-Boi!

Back

2005-09-03T20:01:00.000-04:00

Well, well, well. Look who came crawling back. Did you really think I wouldn't come back? To be honest, I questioned it myself.

Rach and I moved into our new room today. It's eensy. Our stuff is exploded all over it. We'll be rearranging tomorrow sometime, because tonight we gotta hook up with the Mickslice. You know how we do.

(BTW, if anyone from OU is reading this and wants to get together with me and Ray-chell, come get some.)

As for this blog, I've got some stories from the summer that I neglected to share earlier due to lack of modem, and I'll write some up eventually. Keep in mind, I'm taking philosophy this quarter as well, so things might get a little weird. We'll see what happens.

Remember me?

2005-08-01T13:20:00.000-04:00

Um, hi.

I'm living right now. I'll write about it later.

Is Harry Mentioned in Every Paragraph?

2005-07-18T16:28:00.000-04:00

Where can I pick up at after twelve days? What can I possibly say that will make you people come back here to read? The longer I wait, the harder it becomes to write something worthwhile.

I've been busy. Really busy. I work six days a week. I clean my mom's house on the seventh. Thus far, I have nothing to show for my efforts, apart from a paid-off credit card. And of course a pristine copy of the Half-Blood Prince. (Oh, come off it. You knew it'd be mentioned.)

Apart from Mr. Potter, I've been reading insane amounts of other things. You may have noticed a small selection on the left-hand side. I've been trying to read things that are challenging or up to my level, like some Palahniuk, or possibly one of the Philosophy books I was forced to buy for school, but I find myself pouring over the crap English broad novels once again, unable to tear myself away from the same story I've read over and over again. I love it every time.

Alas, I have ventured outside for something other than a cigarette at least once this summer. Saturday, upon procuring my copy of HP6, I went to GEAUGA LAKE AND WILDWATER KINGDOM (which could not have been printed more on everything within a ten-mile radius of the park) with Joey, Lysh, and her little (not-so anymore) brother Trevor. It stormed twice, but I did get on some coasters and eat some Chinese. Not a bad day.

I finished Harry Potter yesterday afternoon. I cried for the last four or five chapters. Jo has done a tremendous job on this and setting up completely different circumstances for the final book, which of course I can hardly wait for, but at the same time dread reading. The end? No thank you.

I'm afraid I won't be doing much else this summer, so you won't have a lot to read about. I might have to start lying. We'll see.

Singing Praises

2005-07-06T15:58:00.000-04:00

I feel the need to sing the praises of HBO.

My parents have recently tried to cancel my beloved channel, but luckily, it's still coming through. The day it stops will be the day that I bitch and moan and cry to them, and possibly call the cable company myself to turn it back on.

Why? Why all the love for a stupid movie channel? It's definitely not the movies. I have no interest in watching Stuck On You thirty times a day, or in Spanish, thank you. Well, they have been showing Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban a lot lately, but that's beside the point.

It's the series.

It all started with Sex and the City. What a beautiful, witty show. The clothes are great, the characters are great, and Ron Livingston shows up in the fifth and sixth seasons. Yum. However, Sex and the City is just a small taste of the phenomenal series that I am now addicted to.

Six Feet Under came next for me. Jason's older brother rented the entire second season a year or so back, and suggested we watch it. There is a death in the beginning of every episode, and sets the tone for the remainder of it. At first, we were both slightly bored by the overly dramatic antics of the Fisher family, but we wanted to watch the second episode, you know, just to see how the person died. I've been watching ever since. Season Five is getting nuts.

Curb Your Enthusiasm was also suggested to me by Jason's brother. (The guy has taste.) It's a prompted inprovisational show starring Larry David, the creator of Seinfeld. You know when you watch Meet the Parents, and you get that uncomfortable feeling in the pit of your stomach? Almost like you're disgusted by the lack of people skills that Greg Focker possesses? That's Curb Your Enthusiasm, only with taste.

Last but not least, HBO's newest series, The Comeback, with Lisa Kudrow. She plays the character so convincingly, and so unlike Pheobe, that it really makes you admire her capabilities as an actress. It also kind of makes you hate her for being so dumb, since it's a reality styled show. But then you remember that no, it's fake, and Lisa Kudrow is not a moron. I hope.

So join me in my obsession. Get HBO and devour every night like I do. I beg of you, and your sense of humor will call and thank me for it.

And no, they're not paying me for this. But free HBO would be nice.

Bits and Pieces

2005-06-30T00:04:00.000-04:00

I do not have mono. I do, however, have a large blue track mark on my arm. Heroin chic?
I am no longer a telemarketer. The question: would you rather clean 30 hotel rooms a day rather than call 2000 people and say the same thing over and over again? Yes, yes I would.
There is a case of the Beast in my fridge and I'm not drinking it. Insert the frowning emoticon here. I am not as hardcore as I once was.
Beware a hot-pink-mini-skirt wearing redneck at New Towne Mall. Do not approach him. His skirt and high heel ensemble are not a joke.
Lysha is a fucking tiger. I'm not kidding. Rawr.
Miller High Life t-shirt on the credit card? Oh, hells yeah.
Dentist appointment tomorrow after half a days work. Commence to flossing.

Weird

2005-06-26T22:08:00.000-04:00

The last two days have been bizarre.

First, I went with Brad to his ex-girlfriend's birthday party. What?

Last night, I hung out with some of the boys from my old Catholic school class. Some of these kids I hadn't seen in three to four years. AND I was wasted. So incredibly weird.

Today our electricity went out for about four hours -- during a Gilmore Girls marathon! Somebody, someplace, hates me.

Brad called to tell me that - SURPRISE - he didn't go back to camp today because he has MONO. WTF. I can't afford to miss work right now. But, with my luck...

Andy Milonakis show is on shortly. That's all for now.

My Life as a Telemarketer

2005-06-23T00:14:00.000-04:00

"Hello, is [insert unpronounceable name here] available?"

"What? Why you always calling? You call all the time. Stop calling! He is not here! Stop calling!"

"Sir, I-"

*click*

9:00 AM - 5:15 PM.
This summer is rockin'.

What's Going On

2005-06-19T18:47:00.000-04:00

Ahhh, where did I go?

I've been around. I've enjoyed my week off (which was accidental, but nice). No, I still don't have a job, but I did get my grades back from last quarter. I've expressed to some of you my fear of getting kicked out, but here the results:

English: A
Chemistry: D
Biology: C
Calculus: F
Academic Probation: REMOVED

That's right, as crappy as that is, I still get off probation and I don't get kicked out. Also, surprisingly, I did well enough in the science courses that I can still pursue Pharmacy if I don't feel like this writing thing is going anywhere. I'm fairly content with myself, actually.

As far as writing goes, I've been keeping a notebook journal. "Writing down the summer," as I've told a few people. I guess it reduces my need to keep you guys informed or whatever, but it's really to help me through some shit I've been dealing with lately. I definitely needed it.

I hate for this blog to be about what's going on in my life in such a factual way, but tomorrow is going to be CRAZY and it's all I can think about at the moment, so here's a list of plans, and then I'm out of here to eat some beer can chicken:

Wake up at 7AM.
Take Mike to work.
Take Damon to preschool.
Take Mom to work.
Go to Manpower to try to find a job.
Go to Influent to apply for the midnight shift.
PICK UP JES FROM AIRPORT with Mom.
Shopping in Canton.
Starting work at Influent. Oh, yay.

I seriously can't wait to see Jes. I know I'll get irritated with her probably before tomorrow is over, but at this point I don't care. Also, that stuff is more than I've done all week.

I'll come back later this week with something worth reading, that isn't just about my crappy life.

Bitch, bitch, bitch

2005-06-13T22:10:00.000-04:00

Today was not-such-a-good day.

Firstly, I slept for only about four hours. I woke up, took care of the stupid dog, and looked up car insurance quotes. Of course, once I found a good price, my mom decided I didn't need six months of insurance. Awesome.

Michael Jackson - not guilty? Hmph.

Damon being here, and his stupid asthma and not leaving me alone delaying my cigarette break. What a little jerkwad.

At least Eric came over with Evil Dead 2, and Nile and Cody came to visit. Whew. I was in a good place for about an hour or so. ....Then we decided to call Brad. Bad move, Sami, bad move.

Just as I suspected by his lack of communication over the past few days, he is at the stupid camp job. Not only did I make it fairly clear that we weren't going to last if he actually took that job, but he didn't even call me before going. I'm pretty much pissed off and hating boys at the moment. ARGH.

Also, it's still a no-go on the job front. I suck at life.

The Kids Aren't Alright

2005-06-13T03:31:00.000-04:00

So here I am, living with my parents again in T-County. What's there to say? Everything is different. EVERYTHING. I barely know where to begin or what to do with myself. I'm uncomfortable in my own home. What shit.

What's different? It's list time.

My mom got married on Wednesday. Needless to say, I wasn't there.
Brad lives more than five minutes away from me. And he hasn't called since he's been home. THANKS HUN.
Apparently I'm not allowed to use the air conditioner. It's sweltering and shit.
Mickey was once adorable yet annoying. After his most recent haircut, he's lost all good qualities.
MUTHAFUCKING DIAL-UP. Ugh.

I'm gonna wrap this up because I'm out of things to say and I've got thirty million loads of laundry. PFFT.

This is not a rash.

2005-06-08T04:45:00.000-04:00

I am the best girlfriend ever.

The One With Links

2005-06-07T13:23:00.000-04:00

Yesterday my dear Dean Simon sent me a post somebody made about blog insults. It was amusing, but at the same time I was rather taken aback because they all seemed to apply to my blog. Here is my vain attempt to correct one particular situation: Your blog is like a sausage patty: no links.

Sure, there are links to the left. Maybe this is talking about people linking to my blog as opposed to me linking to other in my entries, but either way. It's about time I showed you guys what I've been doing on this here internet. So here goes.

Get Behind Me Satan by the White Stripes comes out today. Of course, I've had this album for quite a while already *ahem*. Anyway, if you haven't seen the video for Blue Orchid yet you should totally do so. Meg looks HOT, partially because you can't see her gross teeth.

If you haven't visited the Best Page in the Universe recently, you should definitely do so. Maddox has made two posts in the past month -- yeah, no shit. They're not exactly as great as his old stuff, but there's a few laughs in there.

Also, there's only 38 days until Half-Blood Prince hits stores, and I recently uncovered a link to one of the Potter sites I used to love back in the day: Wizarding Wireless. Yes, I'm a big dork. That's fine by me.

Okay, it's about time to go take an exam that I haven't studied for. This post may be updated later so check back. In the meantime, how about you guys try to amend another one of those jokes that applies to me: Your blog is like Martha Stewart during her trial for securities fraud: no comments.

Lame and Love

2005-06-06T15:37:00.000-04:00

I'm infatuated. I'm just going to come right out and say it, because throughout this post you will be overcome with my lovey-dovey bullshit and mooning over this boy, so consider this your disclaimer. DISCLAIMED.

We did make it to the wedding, and it was beautiful. How could it have not been beautiful, it was at a freaking castle! A CASTLE!

Actually, it's the Chateau Laroche, and I took about a hundred million pictures for Beau and Shannon Walker, who are now married, as Brad felt the need to inform me about a hundred million times.

We rode down in Brad's parent's extended cab pickup truck, with me in the backseat with Brad's best friends DJ and Shane, as well as a tiny little girl called Sara. Or Sarah. I don't know. She didn't talk much. Anyway, Shane and DJ totally made the trip not suck as hard as it could have.

I'll hold your cappucino for you, if you want to dance or play air guitar or anything.
-DJ

Sami and Brad are cute together. He's a geek, and she's like, this punk rock chick. He's like Screech, and she's like someone that was never on Saved By the Bell.
-Shane

As you can see, a constant source of entertainment.

But yeah, the infatuation. I'm happy. I'm really happy, actually. I'm stupid "I miss you after six hours" happy and big cheesy grin happy. His friends are great, and he's great, and we're great. For the rest of this week anyway. This summer...well, we'll see what happens. Let's just say I'm nervous.

Yes, I realize how stupid and cheesy that last paragraph was. But I had to get it out, because this last weekend was seriously one of the best I've had in a long time. And I'm incredibly grateful.

Now, only if I was as infatuated with science, seeing as how this week is "HEY SAMI, FAIL ALL OF YOUR FINALS" week. But that means T-County will soon be upon us, as well as dial-up Internet. WOOO.

Root Beer Floats and Changed Plans

2005-06-03T16:04:00.000-04:00

So. Yesterday was interesting. I was planning on posting a freewrite I did in English about where and how I write, but I'll save that for later. Because today, I've got some interesting randomosity that must be shared. Mainly because of conversations like this one:

Me: i need to update it
Dean Simon: you do

That was totally worth posting, by the way.

Anyways, these are the latest developments:

I want a chipmunk. And I want to name him Elvis. There is no real reason behind this.
Rachel and I totally figured out that you can make root beer floats in the dining hall. Had this been brought to our attention earlier this year, we would weigh at least 500 pounds apiece.
I stayed up all night with Bradley. Hilarity ensued come breakfast.

Anyway, the big news is that Bradley and I were supposed to attend a wedding on Saturday. His parents were going to come get us today, and then after "spinning a web of lies" to get his parents to like me, and staying at his house tonight, we would go to the wedding, and I would be badly dressed. Is this going to happen? Probably not.

You see, his parents meant "NEXT Friday" as opposed to "THIS Friday", an easy misconception. Also, the wedding is taking place in Cincinnati, which is about a million times further away from Coshocton than it is from Athens. DUH.

Brad's freaking out as we speak, determined to go. The good part? I get to be amusing and clever with comments like these:

Me: give me something to blog about
Brad: i don't know.
Me: how about "A Wedding Disaster" since it kinda sounds like "Awaiting"?
Me: HUH?
Me: SEE WHAT I DID THERE?

Yes, you can tell I'm low on material when I reuse things I've said in instant messages. Shut up. Besides, I used them as quotes which have been discussed before and after their inclusion. Because I learned that in English. And I'm not just mentioning that because I gave this address to my English teacher today. (Hi, Kristen.)

So, will Brad and I make it to the wedding?
Will I put on ten pounds in the next week due to root beer floats?
Will I stop resorting to AIM conversations as blog fodder?

Stay tuned.

The "I really need to update" Update - Now With Rambling!

2005-05-30T20:59:00.000-04:00

I would chalk it up to writer's block, but I haven't been trying, I'll admit it.

I hope that this summer isn't anything like this past weekend I had at home. I blew off a good friend, bitched at my family, and overall just ate and slept. I need to catch up with some people I haven't talked to and remind them that yes, I still exist.

Mickey, my mom's Maltese, chewed up Bradley's glasses, and yet my mother still thinks he's the most precious dog that has ever come to exist. I think he might be some sort of genetic experiment between a vending machine teddy bear and an...ornery ass puppy. Sorry, I kinda lost my train of thought on that one.

I have yet to see this "Episode III" that everyone's raving about, and I think I need to do something about that. However, my funds are minimal for the next two weeks, and all I'm concerned about is keeping myself in sweet, sweet nicotine until finals are over.

I read like three books from the Gossip Girls series this weekend. Seriously, rich girl drama is my number one guilty pleasure read. Even though it does not compare to what will be gracing bookstores in 46 days. The time will hopefully not drag on as it has been doing, because I don't know how much of this spoiler nonsense I can contain myself from. Not that I've been doing a good job of it thus far.

I'm almost totally moved out of my dorm room. My only possessions left are my desk stuff, toiletries, and two weeks worth of clothes. I guess all there is to say about that is the monotonous "I can't believe I'm almost done with my first year of college!" that everyone else said three weeks ago when they finished classes. Assholes.

Time to write the last paper. I'll try to stop leaving you guys hanging all the time, but no promises.

Death in a Dream

2005-05-23T12:41:00.000-04:00

I had this dream Saturday night. Yeah, it's a little late for this, but I've been kinda busy. Anyway, Saturday night, I got all stoned with my boyfriend's best friend, and we talked about all sorts of crazy shit. I stumbled home, and passed out, and had this crazy zombie dream that included all my old friends, and an ex of mine from California.

We were all in this big house, and something really weird was going on. Like, it was normal at first, but then weird shit kept happening. There was this small child, with dark spots all over her legs. For some reason, I got the idea that this was actually my child, I'm not sure why. After looking at her legs in horror, I looked at my own legs, and they were covered in dark spots too, almost like crap tattoos. All I wanted to do was take this child, and leave the house.

That's when the zombie shit started. All these people that I know in real life as old friends of mine turned into these crazy "28 Days"-looking people, but somehow more human than that. And all they wanted was for me to stay, and join them or whatever.

There were a lot of escape attempts, with various people. Initially my ex tried to leave with me. Then Niki, a girl who lives in my building, then my sister, and finally a girl I graduated with but never talked to. The thing that stuck out the most was my own brutality. I guess that's why I'm writing a stupid post about a stupid dream. I wanted so badly to leave that place, with the child, that I felt no hesitation in brutally slitting the throats of people that I once hung out with every day. I had never before killed in a dream.

Looking back on it, I think it was about drugs.

And, of course, it should be made into a Troma film immediately.

Muffin

2005-05-17T13:35:00.000-04:00

One of the more fun things -- okay like the only fun thing -- about breaking up with somebody, is that you feel no remorse in telling their secrets. Allow me to elaborate.

This isn't a secret so much as it's an incident he'd rather not have other people know. You see, my ex has a thing for coffeeshops, and when he finally found one that he liked he would go there every day to sit and read.

Apparently, there was a man that worked there who always took his order. So my ex would go in, order a cup of the coffee of the day, and sit by himself for a few hours. Eventually it came that they would exchange small remarks, a "Hey, buddy," here and there. Not a big deal, right?

The signals started out small. A smile. A tip. And then, finally, a muffin. It seems my ex ordered one from another employee, who had forgotten to bring it out to his table. So he went to talk to that man, who happened to be working as well.

"Would you like me to warm it up for you?" the man asked with a smile. My ex conceded and went back to his table. He left shortly after finishing the muffin.

"I think I've been hitting on a guy at the coffee shop," he confided in me that night. "I think that he think's that I'm gay."

"Well," I replied. "You did ask him to heat up your muffin."

Muffin became my regular term of endearment from that point on. Oh, Muffin, you make excellent blog fodder.

An Unanswered Response

2005-05-16T03:58:00.000-04:00

Recently I received an email from a childhood friend. Not somebody that I was too surprised to hear from, actually. It felt very formal, almost forced. "My mother's friend told me you were attending here." What is that? For those of you in the know, that's Joey fucking Ellwood.

I wrote back, but no reply. I did swear in my response, which I rethought shortly after sending. Who drops the F bomb in a reply to an email as carefully worded as his had been? Anyway, it doesn't matter. This post isn't about Joey being afraid of the F bomb, or rekindling old friendships. Actually, it's about horse chestnuts.

When I was five years old, Joey and I used to play after school. It made sense, he lived right down the street from me, in a town half an hour away from where our school was located. We used to watch Punky Brewster and eat Pizza Rolls for hours until my mom got home. We rode bikes and played on the playground of the elementary school beside my house until it was dark out, and my mom would call for me to come in.

One of those nights, I wasn't ready yet. I whined and complained -- I was having way too much fun getting noseruns and scraped knees to have to come in yet. I bargained that I would come eat dinner shortly, but I had to go pick up my things from outside first.

It was the first time I remember directly disobeying my mother. Instead of cleaning up my toys, I ran to the tree in front of the school next door, where Joey was looking around on the ground, collecting buckeyes.

I joined in, but soon picked up a prickly, spiky ball. I asked him what it was.

"That? Oh...that's a spider nest. And now, since you touched it, the spider eggs are gonna get inside your ears...and they're gonna hatch...on your sixth birthday," he so confidently replied.

Needless to say, I hauled ass back to my house, and stopped talking to him for a few days.

I still remember waking up the morning of the my sixth birthday, hoping to god that spiders wouldn't crawl out of my head.

...And I'm disappointed that he didn't respond to my email why exactly?

Living in Filth

2005-05-09T17:03:00.000-04:00

Last night, after my bedtime smoke, I tossed my brand-new, flash art, butterfly winged fairy lighter at my desk. Keeping in mind that I have little to no hand-eye coordination, and the fact that it was very dark in our room, it was not surprising to hear it ricochet off of my chair and land elsewhere.

Rachel and I have just scoured the room, and in its place, we have discovered many other atrocities inhabiting our environment.

a quarter in an old purse
a missing shoe
a Dorito (in tact)
an unopened eyeshadow
a magnet
germies under my desk
a different lighter
7983257 socks
a pink bra
the nickel that Rachel usually sleeps with
chewed up pens (obviously)
a flyer for SpringFest
a million other random things

Eventually, I stuck my hand in a paper bag filled with old easter candy, which has mostly been reduced to wrappers thanks in part to the hardcore kid that lives on our floor, and there she was, looking sexay like a tattooed lighter should. Thanks be to the Bic gods.

Show 18: Reconfiguring the World

2005-05-04T23:12:00.000-04:00

Honestly, I had no idea what to expect when I went to view a set of competition films for the Athens International Film Festival. I had seen some independent films before, and I was always either completely impressed, or completely disappointed and weirded out. This experience fell more to the latter category.

The first film was a two minute piece entitled "Good Morning, Children". It was a variety of images on cereal boxes, spliced with drawings of people eating cereal. The sound was a mix of a drum machine with the occasional sample thrown in from popular rap songs. It actually felt like I was watching a horrible flash movie on a stupid website, and was almost laugh out loud horrible. However, the actual filmmaker was in the audience, so I managed to contain myself and clap politely.

"Zuse Strip" started by examining closely something that was later revealed to be a film strip of an eye blinking, with holes punched in it in the style of a sheet of music played by an organ grinder. The piece was eight minutes long, with the pretense of being a documentary by aliens from Venus 500 years in the future that had discovered said film strip, and were trying to discover its secret. Much of these eight minutes were spent by myself trying to understand what this film was about. My notes are scribbled: "Aliens? Secrets? Codes? Digital media? – Confused." It was somewhat interesting, and certainly not the worst of the collection.

The piece I was really looking forward to played next: "Spam Letter + Google Image Search = Video Entertainment". This was an incredibly fun idea, of having the computer read aloud a spam letter sent to the filmmaker, while displaying an image that was somehow related to each word as it was spoken. This also felt like it belonged on a website rather than in a film festival, but I enjoyed it nonetheless.

Next came the stupidest thing I had ever seen. Ten straight minutes of nothing but a screenshot of Rhett Butler and Scarlet O’Hare being shown in every way possible, backwards, inside out, close up, far away, spinning, twisting. The phrase "Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn," was played repeatedly, sometimes just parts of it, sometimes backwards, two at a time, just all mixed up. They called it "Gone". The whole time I was thinking of stupid puns that could be used to describe such a thing, like: "Gone is an appropriate title for this piece, seeing as that’s what the audience would be already if there weren’t another film to be seen," and "Frankly my dear, I’ll be surprised if I don’t start convulsing from all this flashing lights and pass out on the floor of the theatre." I definitely couldn’t wait for it to end.

Finally, the main piece began, "Our Summer in Oklahoma, 1990". Tell me this: what do Whitney Houston, Neo-Nazis, wrestling, and Muslim church have in common? I’m not quite sure, to tell you the truth, but apparently there is some relation, as this movie was a mishmash of clips of all of these things for over an hour. I’ll try to explain it as best I can. This is somehow the political manifesto of a female Neo-Nazi skinhead. From what I gathered, she worked for Whitney Houston at some point in time, and the singer had punched her in the face and ridiculed her, so she fled from New Jersey to Oklahoma and turned to the Neo-Nazi movement. I say Neo-Nazi rather than just Nazi because during one clip from Geraldo, a member of the American Nazi Party harassed these skinheads, saying that they were turning white brothers against white brothers, so apparently there’s a difference. The wrestling came into play by showing clips from a plotline wherein a woman seduces a wrestler, and then turns the table on him, having another wrestler jump him in a limo. Later this same woman claims, "I am woman, and I am going to take over the wrestling world." I’m still not sure where the Muslim preacher comes in at. Another theme that I picked up on was that the filmmaker seemed to blame these behaviors on the way a person is brought up. Sissy Houston, Whitney’s mother, was said to have joined in with the harassment of the servant. A family is shown declaring that they are in the racist movement, along with their young daughter. All in all, the whole film just seemed unexplainable. I’m not sure where the filmmaker was coming from, what side they supported, or what they were trying to accomplish. It was somewhat disappointing.

All in all, this experience left a lot to be desired. I think my friend Bradley said it best when, after leaving the theatre, he announced that he was going to go home and watch a movie, "A real one. With a plot, and characters, and conflict. One that tells me something." Whatever happened to those?

A New Chapter

2005-05-03T20:59:00.001-04:00

Yesterday at lunch I had the chinese. Damn, do I dig that lo mein. Anyway, with chinese, there are fortunes, obviously. Mine read:

Beautiful things awaits you.

That's not a typo, by the way. They awaits me.

Anyway, that got me thinking today. What also got me thinking was a comment my dear Margaret left me earlier that I had to delete. Sorry about that, hun. I didn't want to see it anymore.

So I went out with this kid on and off for five years. Five fucking years. I was going to marry this kid and have all sorts of babies. He was in all of my plans. However, plans have been changing lately. A lot, actually. Most of my friends are missing. I'm changing my major. And this boy has a serious girlfriend since I'm at college.

We had discussed this. I had told him, Go, fuck other people, have fun. I'm two and a half hours away. Don't sit around and mourn me, but don't get too involved with someone and run off. Well, this turned into that and now it's serious. He's happy. I'm slightly disgusted, personally.

Ultimatum time came today. Her or me. Something unsure or something forever. His answer? "Well, I guess we're just going to have to be friends, then." He was talking about me. That's not one of the choices, hun.

So that's it. I was single before that conversation, but he was always in the back of my mind. I was single without the stress of trying to find somebody. The ideal situation. Now it's real. Now I'm alone single. Now I need to rethink what I want, and what I'm going to do about it.

But beautiful things awaits me, so says the chinese treat with the subpar grammar. And now I guess I'm awaiting them too. It's a new chapter! Expect the unexpected! This is the first day of the rest of my life!

And here we are.

Zen and the Art of Sand Trap Maintenence?

2005-04-28T14:17:00.000-04:00

So last night Brad forced me into taking a walk with him. That may sound a little mean, but it's true, I assure you. Regardless, we found ourselves wandering through the golf course that's between my dorm and the Hocking River.

You see, I've been on a real golf course maybe once before last night/this morning. And if I'm not just making that time up, then I was too young to remember any real details. But walking on a golf course at night is pretty fucking cool. This post would be more interesting with pictures, but I don't got none. So here's a bulleted list! Woo:

We played with the rakes in the sand traps to make Zen gardens and be more in touch with the earth.
We wandered along the fairway, which was fairly squishy.
Although it took quite a while in the dark, we found the green and the hole, which I was pretty excited about.
Brad climbed a fucking mountain of construction dirt stuff, and I ran away.
We found ourselves locked into the actual golf course part when we made it to the last hole. Also, pesticides will probably give us cancer.

So, I had a pretty fun time. And I like playing in sand traps. And this whole experience was the kind of activity that I use to do when I was in high school. Smoking pot and staying up all night doing weird shit. Now, I've quit smoking pot, so this time I wasn't high....but I'll consider it for later.

The Long Awaited Picture Post

2005-04-27T22:08:00.000-04:00

Here is the result of:

Me being way hyper.
Rachel not being here.
My neighbor turning 19 or something and having bubbles.
Brad going to an ACRN meeting.
And Dean Simon coercing me into it.

It's hard to take webcam pictures of yourself with bubbles.

That last one is for my beautiful Dean Simon, who (for some reason) seems to have a thing for my chubby cheeks. Heh.

P.S. It is kinda lonely without Ray-chell. *sniffle*

Suck it, Xanga

2005-04-27T12:23:00.000-04:00

Things are gonna change a bit around here. This thing is depressing to read. So many long, thought out (or drawn out) posts about my life and how I dislike it, and I hate them. Xanga, which is my internet crutch, is taking up all the creative energy that I have, and it sucks too. So, enough of this two blog bullshit.

I'm quitting Xanga, and coming here. Expect things to get more frequent, random, and concise in the near future. That's all for right now.

I hate blogger.

2005-04-21T11:32:00.000-04:00

I've tried for about fifteen minutes or more to make a post now. While this displeases me, it adds to my procrastination, which is the whole point here. Actually, I think I've crossed the line of procrastination. It really looks like I'm just not doing what I'm supposed to be doing, even though I have limited time.

Either way, my mind is completely elsewhere. In a different state, even. The funny thing is, I don't know which one. Ha.

It could also be because this has been the most trying week of my life. I have had about half a million things to do, and I've diligently completed all of them...up until last night. I'm sick of doing things. I'm tired of studying for this week. And that's no good considering I have an exam in six hours, not to mention a two hour class during that time. And a paper due for said class.

How fucking ignorant of them is it to schedule five fucking hundred things in the same week? Is every class I'm in working together to simultaneously mindfuck me and make me drop out of college and do nothing with myself? Because that's how it feels, and I fucking hate them for it.

Expect a more positive entry tomorrow, since I WILL BE DONE WITH THIS BULLSHIT.

Another Fucking Drunk Post

2005-04-17T04:13:00.000-04:00

Yeah, blah blah blah, I don't updated, I'm never online, I'm a bad e-friend. Ha, I just said e-friend. THat's an accurate measurement of how much I suck.

This was a fucked up night. Some kids from T-County showed up at our dorm room. We met up with someother kids from my graduating class at a frat party that had a couple hundred people at it. I don't particularly enjoy big parties. I'm more a "6 or 7 people drinking cheap beer" kind of girl. There were multiple kegs that all required at least a 20 minute wait. It was BALLS.

So then one of these kids that had originally showed up to my dorm was all making out with me, and it was the suckiest making out ever. And he kept forcing it upon me. I was resisting, but I wasn't too sure how to act in such a situation.

Later that same kid passed out in my bed, woke up again, spilled his beer everywhere, and pissed in my fucking closet. He is currently passed out in the hallway and Rachel and Christ are attempting to drag him back in here. WTF.

I don't know. Tonight was fucking weird because I hung out with all these kids that were like "popular" kids from my ex-class. Maybe not way popular, but more popular than I was. They didn't talk to me, anyway. I guess I never really gave them a chance. But regardless, they were all here tonight. I felt somewhat on the outside, yet almost fitting in.

Ugh the kid is trying to piss in our room again.

I'm stopping writing and whatnot. This is half assed. I'll do something about it tomorrow.

Drinking on a Monday Night

2005-04-12T15:08:00.000-04:00

I've been doing well this quarter. I've been going to class, keeping up with homework, being more social, and maintaining a (somewhat) clean environment for myself.

The thing is, as my friend Andrew once said, "There's still that question in the back of my mind: How long will it last?"

That's exactly the way I feel. This responsibility coming from me is just a facade, the way I see it. I'm not this person going to class and reading beforehand and turning everything in on time. I'm not. And internally I'm scared of letting the real me come through and spoil it.

Which brings me to last night. Rachel suggested that we go out to the bars with a couple of our older guy friends that live uptown. And I went. And I drank. And I stopped at the burrito buggy at three in the morning. And I crashed at their place.

In an effort to break this pattern that has emerged within the last paragraph, just know that I have missed three classes today thus far, and one of them was kinda important. The facade is crumbling.

Anyway, this entry reminds me of a PostSecret secret that said: I'm a fake. (And so are you.) I remember when I saw it, I was taken aback with its truthfulness. However, the real me would be lying in a pile of filth, most assuredly. I know I wouldn't be here.

I don't like the way this is turning.

Rachel + Sami = Retarded

2005-04-05T14:15:00.000-04:00

Okay, I don't have time to pose around for pictures, sorry Dean Simon (I NAME DROPPED, LIKE THIS POST PLZ). Although I will get some new pics ASAP because I got the fringe and it has yet to be photographed.

Anyways, yesterday Rachel and I had two of the dumbest conversations in history on the way to classes.

[after watching some guy trip down the stairs]
Sami: We're lucky we're short, so we don't trip down stairs.
Rachel: Yeah, we have lower centers of gravity.
Sami: That guy's like an SUV.
Rachel: Yeah man! We're like lowriders!
Sami: I like to think of myself as a Honda Civic, but I'm probably less reliable.
Rachel: You could be like a Chevy Cavalier.
Sami: Yeah, I am kinda a Cavalier. But the four door, because the two door looks too cool.
Rachel: *snort* I'm like a fucking Astrovan.

Yeah, it went on like that for some time. I've never compared myself to a car before, and it was mildly amusing. NOW YOU MUST COMMENT ABOUT WHAT CAR YOU WOULD BE IF YOU WERE A CAR, DURHURR.

Also, later in the day, we talked about all the little stupid jokes we used to tell each other when we were in second grade.

Look down at your chest and spell 'attic'.

Hold your tongue and say 'apple' or 'ship'.

Spell the word icup outloud.

Something about "pea soup".

Pete and Repeat were on a boat, Pete fell off and who was left?

Feel free to add to this list.

I have to go to class. Damnit.

Not Quite an Update

2005-04-04T16:13:00.000-04:00

So, um, sorry about lack of updates. All sorts of crazy shit is needing to be taken care of, and I am trying to be "responsible", and I'm doing 19 credit hours.

I'm considering posting something extremely personal later, but I'll decide that later today.

This is all I have time for right now. I'm sorry! It'll get better, I swear. I'm taking an English class with lots of freewriting so if I get desperate, I'll post some of that stuff soon.

Bitching about Calculus

2005-03-30T21:26:00.000-05:00

Here is another boring entry, because I am pissed at Calculus right now. Okay, here goes.

When they teach you about exponents, the two easiest things that you learn are as follows:

Anything to the zero power is one.
One to any power is one.

Simple enough, right? No. Nonononono, no, no, wrong. This is not the case. Today, some five years after I was taught the above two things, I was taught that we do not know the solution to the following three problems:

Infinite to the zero power.
One to the infinite power.
Zero to the zero power.

Okay, so zero to the zero power, I can see how that would be tricky.

But come on now, infinite to the zero power? If any number to the zero power is one, then why the fuck isn't it one?! Infinite represents a number, correct? A number to the zero power is one, bada bing, bada boom, there's the solution. Why isn't that the accepted answer?

And one to the infinite power. Hm, let's think about this one in a bit more detail.

1² = 1 · 1 = 1
1³ = 1 · 1 · 1 = 1
1 · 1 · 1 · 1 ... · 1 = 1
ad nauseum.

What is so hard about this? No matter how many times you multiple one times one, it's still going to be one. The answer seems obvious. One to the infinite power is one, right? NO.

Math has fucked us again.

Back to the Future

2005-03-28T20:56:00.000-05:00

While I'm still waiting for the inspiration to strike for something really funny and worthwhile to write about, I'm going to fill some space with some thinking I've been doing, due to my recent um, grade receiving.

So, yeah, they sucked. I guess I kind of knew that they were going to suck, but as I've recently learned, "self deception maintains self esteem", and I feel bad about myself as it is. It somehow seems inappropriate to just post said grades here, but what the fuck, I'm doing it anyway. May it serve as a reminder to myself and others to quit that goddamn slacking off.

Biology: D
Chemistry: F
Calculus: D
Social Work: A-
Academic Probation: Placed

So, there you have it. I'm rocking the cumulative 1.8. I've failed the first class I've ever failed in my life, and my Bios grade wasn't high enough to move on. I've slacked, crammed, and procured myself seats in two of my classes for the second time. And as if just the idea of being on Academic Probation wasn't enough, as well as retaking two classes, I also have to attend an Academic Success Workshop later this week. Not-so-good times.

This isn't the way I pictured it. I'm sure it's not the way my family pictured it either, what with my rockin' ACT score and high school GPA and the NHS and all that jazz. I was supposed to own college. This was my time to shine, because I've always been the "smart" kid, and now I feel my title is to be retired. I haven't been called the "smart" kid in quite some time anyway.

Now that I've discussed the past, half of my pre-blog title has been covered, and I will move on to the future. My future. Sami DeVille, Pharm. D. Sounds pretty good, eh? Yeah, I thought so too. I used to love Chemistry, and I had some skill for it as well. But this shit is hard, and I'm lazy. I'm starting to rethink this whole "Science major" baloney.

Oh well. Past, future, present, whatever. I'm young, smart (although that's to be debated), and I'll do what I fucking want. And if somewhere down the road, I want to change that major, then I'll do it. Right now, I have a long overdue date with a Bios book. Ciao.

Edit:

Um, oh yeah, I almost forgot: FRIDAY NIGHT RULED AND DEAN SIMON IS HOT. The end.

Tales from Spring Break

2005-03-25T12:39:00.000-05:00

So, that basically sums up most of it.

What's that? You want details? Eh, I guess.

Since my spring break is sufficiently over enough, here is my spring break post. Yeehaw, I know. I've spent my break in the land of Beast and the dirty H...that's right, T-County. Again, yeehaw. It has been decent.

Jason discovered that I was home on Saturday, after we had a fourty-five minute phone conversation. What an ass. Anyway, we've basically been playing house ever since then. I've been waking up when he goes to work and sitting around until he comes back. We are old and married. Sheesh.

Some highlights, mostly just because I love the li tag:

On Monday Jeremy called me around noon to tell me that he had a bottle of red wine with my name on it. We drank the whole thing, and then tried to go to bed at like 5PM.
On Tuesday Kyle and Jenn took me out to Jason's, and then we all went with Mast and drank some more. We played a game that I was taught as "Fubar" and Mast called "Kings". It was fun, and there was much silly drunkeness while surrounded by large stuffed dead animals on the walls.
Wednesday was my birthday. Yay for me. I didn't do jack shit. But I guess I did go to Border's and spend $20 on a Harry Potter theory book. Eek.
Last night Jason took me to Damon's to eat, and see Margaret, and much complaining did occur. But I got pulled pork, so I was happy. The waitress, an old friend of mine who likes to talk shit, acted like she was my close, bitchy friend, and hit my in the head with a menu at one point.
Jason and I hung out with Jes, and our next door neighbor that has a crush on Jason, and also happens to be a boy, much to Jason's disgust. Giggles.
Moolah out the wazoo.
I used too many dumb words on the last bullet.
Oh yes, and we have listened to Primus the whole time.

So there you have it. An exciting spring break in the life of a college student. Woo. More drinking shall commence....now. Over and out.

Nineteen

2005-03-23T08:54:00.000-05:00

So here, it is. Nineteen years old. I've said this like eighteen times before, but I'm saying it again. It doesn't feel any different. I always expect it to, though. Especially in these older years. But it just stays the same. If aging is so gradual, then what is the point of celebrating the anniversary of your birth in the first place?

Nineteen is a pretty worthless age. It's just waiting. Waiting to turn 20, another worthless age. That's the thing about the drinking age being changed to 21. It's like, "Hey, you're 18, you're an adult. But you can't drink. Oh, you're 19? You don't get shit. 21? Have a beer, it's what you've been waiting for."

Last year I bought a pack of cigarettes at midnight, because I was so excited. And I needed smokes, but that's besides the point. This year at midnight, I just looked at my watch, and looked over at Jason and was like "Hey, it's my birthday". Guess what, nothing changed. Nothing happened. We still had our petty arguments afterward and my mom still bitched at me when I came home this morning. I'm still short, my tits are still small, and I still feel like I'm 18.

Eh, at least I got some birthday cash.

Randomosity

2005-03-21T10:28:00.000-05:00

My sleep schedule is more normal right now during my spring break than it was while I was supposed to be going to classes. I suck.
I was watching Shop at Home yesterday, and they were selling the MaxiGlide by Maximus. Anyways, they were trying it out on this black woman who had a TON of curly, crazy hair. At one point, the female host came over to her and started playing with it, and said "And just LOOK at all this hair! I mean, it's beautiful, beautiful hair, we like to call her our own Alicia Keyes. She looks just like Alicia Keyes, doesn't she? But you guys all look alike. Er- you happen to look like her." I just about busted a gut. She'll be feeling the hate mail, I'm sure.
My sister cut me some ~~bangs~~ fringe yesterday. I'm not allowed to say ~~bangs~~. It looks okay I guess.
We went to the Texas Roadhouse last night, and the ribs were burnt and cold. I'm talking charred as fuck on the bottom side. By then I wasn't even hungry, so we said "No, we don't want anymore ribs, just take these back." Our sever said "No, you're GETTING more ribs." And then he still charged us for them. Needless to say, I tipped him about $0.23.
Tonight the Jager will be going-on. And I'm definitely ready for it.
This post isn't interesting at all.
The end.

My Favorite Person

2005-03-19T02:13:00.000-05:00

Okay, I have made a decision. This decision does not involve drunken bloggin (which I am doing), nor does it involve the Oblongs (which kick ass and I am watching).

It has to do with who my favorite person ever is. No, it's not you Dean Simon (although you came close, for making me feeling good about myself for the past week), and it's not you Margaret (although you are close as well and I love your face). It's my mommy. Yes.

Tonight, I returned to T-County, which is cause for much celebration. When Rach's dad pulled in the driveway, I noticed my mom was just sitting in her Jeep in the driveway. She was very upset because her fiance, while he has his good days, is a huge prick and is tearing apart everything I deem sacred. (This might be a slight exagerration.)

Anyway, my mom and I went out, and sat in a bar for a while. It was a pretty awkward bar, as it was a private club, but I met this old guy, whose name I don't remember. Ah, it was Whitey. Okay I remember. (Note to self: edit this wehn sober. Kthxbi.)

Anyway, Whitey has been smoking pot for 30 years. THIRTY FUCKING YEARS. When you look into his eyes, you aren't really looking into them, because you can't tell where they are looking, and he talks real stupid. Kinda like that last sentence.

Moral of the Story: My mom is the coolest ever, and she's just like me only older, and her fiance is a meanface. Also Whitey wanted to smoke pot with me, which I declined (although I probably should've done). Also drinking alone is fucking cooler than you.

The end.

Shitty Webcam Action

2005-03-18T10:51:00.000-05:00

So I decided it's time for a new profile pic. I keep having problems with my old one, plus my roommate and I are excited to go home, so we were having lots of fun with it. Sorry that these pictures suck so incredibly much.

I am so hardcore.

Here I am trying to make a decent profile pic. It looked pretty before it got all uploaded/grainy.

I wanted to get close to the NOFX valuum skank.

Yeah, suck on my nuts, valuum skank. Um, okay, that's kinda an inside thing. Sorry 'bout that.

My roommate is mentally disabled. And it's her birthday. (I'm not kidding about that part.)

And this is how she feels about finals.

Okay, the end. I'll probably take these down soon, because I don't think I can handle this many crap looking pictures. Yucko.

St. Patrick's Day

2005-03-18T00:35:00.000-05:00

I wish I really had something important or interesting to say right now, but I don't. I've been so busy sleeping and eating and studying that I haven't had any worthwhile thoughts. It's pretty depressing.

So it's St. Patty's Day. I know this because everybody's away message is talking about green beer and how they're going to drink it. I would strangle somebody for some green beer right about now, instead of memorizing these old exams. Argh.

Ugh.

2005-03-16T13:41:00.000-05:00

Finals week, how I detest thee. Let's explain a little bit how finals week works here at Ohio University, from a student's point of view.

Firstly, there may be an even higher sleeping:awake ratio then there is the rest of the quarter. This in itself is quite a feat, as we OU kids do enjoy our naps immensely. I believe this stems from the fact that classes ended a week ago, and yet we're still here, so we can take three to four tests in six days.

The most commonly used phrase during finals week is "I don't want to study". This should not come as a surprise. I've said this phrase approximately eight times today, and I've only been awake for upwards of two hours.

You are pretty much guaranteed to run out of meals, unless you're one of the rich kids with your Super 21 mealplans. This is because if you're not bitching about having to study, you're stuffing your face. Also, there are many 8AM exams, so you're up for breakfast. Sure, there's 8AM classes too, but we don't go to those.

Dorm life during finals week is pretty crazy too. My neighbors and I are having a prank war this quarter, instead of getting wasted and trashing the mod like we did last quarter. Not such a great trade off. The self-proclaimed "prank master" is holding said title by leaving little cups of water all over the place: leaning against doors, over doors, and taped to doors. How I admire his creativity.

That's about all I can think of, because my brain is currently leaking out of my ears. But I'll probably come back soon, because I really don't want to study.

One More Time...

2005-03-12T22:19:00.000-05:00

Wow, I missed Blogger.

I've been using friggin' Xanga for the past couple of years, and I don't think I really noticed how disappointing it feel to blog on that kind of template as opposed to Blogger. I just don't get that rush, ha.

I'm not really sure what this is going to become. I guess I'll just go with it and see.

What a boring first entry. Pfft.

NAPALMLOVE

The rat post

HEY

Uh...

STFU

Leaving & Returning

Like a long lost friend

Watch this and don't shut up.

Oh man, lazy.

Fuck Livejournal

the one where i talk about my life

Interspecies Great-Grandma

a bulleted list

This is my back.

Blah, Blah, Sleep

Nap, Interrupted

One day only

Hrm..

Open Letters to the Apprentices. Week 4.

Spring Break wooooooo

No comment.

Open Letters to the Apprentices. Week 3.

Who's the junkie now?

365 days

Overheard in A-town

Um, hey look!

Open Letters to the Apprentices. Week 2.

Sami, you stupid fuck

Quoted on page 10

Surpriseful

Open Letters to the Apprentices. Week 1.

Sami, you sappy fuck

WHAT HAPPENED

My life the shitty movie

I suck at life

Yes, Garrison, this is your fault

Adaptation Miscommunication

SORRY TOO BUSY.

Blogging is so much cooler when you're drunk. (As are most things.)

To lighten things up.

I hate feminists.

There are no words.

I suck at post titles.

So

Shut up already.

Microeconomics is kinda a big deal.

fuck i'm incoherent *snap snap*

I'm doing what?

No, Dean. MY Own.

SO HEY GUESS WHAT

What?

Debauchery in A-town

I suck at life

That One Girl Everyone Hates

Lacking

I'm Tired of Eating Stale Bread

Chillin' at the Holiday Inn

An Open Letter

The Kroger Story

Psyched

A Night in T-County

Back

Remember me?

Is Harry Mentioned in Every Paragraph?

Singing Praises

Bits and Pieces

Weird

My Life as a Telemarketer

What's Going On

Bitch, bitch, bitch

The Kids Aren't Alright

This is not a rash.

The One With Links

Lame and Love

Root Beer Floats and Changed Plans

The "I really need to update" Update - Now With Rambling!

Death in a Dream

Muffin

An Unanswered Response

Living in Filth

fuck i'm incoherent snap snap