Thursday, October 2, 2014

a day in Texts

Logan Young is definitely a morning person. Although, however many times she repeats the mantra in her head, she can't seem to get out of the 4am to 11am sleeping bracket she has stumbled into this semester. So instead of rising at 6 am and watching I Love Lucy re-runs on TV Land, she rises at 11am and tries to look away from the train wreck that is MTV's Sixteen and Pregnant. The sole reason she chooses to watch this television network is mainly because of the fact that she grew up without cable TV, and now feels like she has to make up the time she didn't spend watching unfulfilling television (and also the fact that MTV seems to have the fewest in-screen ads running at that time of day).
It should be noted that today is not just any day, but the first day of a new month. Also referred to by Logan as the "worst day EVRRR"(tweet, October 1 2014).
Despite October being the glorious month that it is, it, along with his eleven brothers and sisters, all have a "first". The day that sucks your already dismal checking account dry. (What was that? A Savings account, you say? Well apparently, you must actually have some money to put in the account for it to stay open. Who knew? [Hint: not Logan Young]). Just minutes after the closing of the latest episode and her second cup of coffee, she walks down to the lobby of her apartment building with her rent check in hand.

When she gets there she is not surprised to see the small paper clock that reads, "We Will Return At" hanging in the door of the office. The clock only has one dilapidated red hand -the hour indicator. They like to give themselves even more room to be vague about their half an hour turned two-hour lunch break on the daily. Meaning, while the clock is meant to answer the question of when they will be back in the office to accept the check, it executes it terribly. The text's inability to perform its purpose is more frustrating to Logan than the sudden $575.00 drop in her account balance.
While trudging back upstairs to her apartment, Logan pulls out her phone and launches the newest addition to her device: Yik Yak. It's an anonymous application that senses your location and allows users to speak their minds and share with everyone within a set radius. Having just recently downloaded the app, Logan scrolls through the mess of grammatically horrific text on the screen and tries to pick out noteworthy or comedic lines. Because of the large amount of people using the app in such a small area, the task instills a minor sense of anxiety in Logan, who constantly worries that she will miss something interesting while scrolling through everything else. One of the "Yaks" that stood out to her read "hollaaa just got my free flu shot #thxfsu #noplagueforme"(Anonymous, Oct 1 2014). This immediately intrigued Logan, who is most definitely "not about that plague life" this semester (Young, private text message).
She silently wishes that the Yak were a hypertext, and had a website with further information linked in it, as this would have simplified the matter greatly. Once back in her apartment, she logs onto her computer and delves into researching the matter further. The information is not easy to come by (FSU is apparently quite stingy with their free vaccinations) but Logan eventually discovers a Facebook post from 2013 stating that the vaccinations are only available on certain days for a few hours. She decides against waiting in a room full of the infected like a sitting duck, and vows to stop at a CVS or Walgreens sometime the following week for her vaccination.
Upon realizing that the day was passing quite quickly, Logan decided that it would be a respectable decision to get dressed and brush her teeth. Overall, she is feeling a little wishy-washy about the day so far, so she concludes that she will wear something that reflects said inner turmoil adequately to her peers.

Almost immediately, panic sets in- her favorite shirt is M.I.A. Her immediate assumption is that one of her roommates must have borrowed it - it was a cute shirt; who could blame them? She quickly walks to the dry-erase board on the refrigerator and creates a rough sketch of the plain white t-shirt and writes WANTED: Plain White Tee. Missing since yesterday. (Not like the band...that would be lame. They're like, so 2009). Aside from the fact that the vertical angle she wrote it at detracted from its neatness, the message was clear. She wished that the medium would have allowed her to use more colors (she thought that this might increase her chances of recovering her shirt) but alas, she and her roommates had only opted for the single black Expo marker. (A few hours later, upon revisiting what she wrote, she decided that she did not yet know her roommates on such a colloquial level and hastily rushed to the refrigerator to erase the bit about boy bands).
After the stress of losing her favorite shirt, Logan became hungry. This was unfortunate, because the only thing in her cupboards was a sad assortment of canned vegetables, a dark brown entity (assumed to be a banana), and the single most aggressive fruit fly she had ever encountered. But alas, she remembers suddenly, I have hummus! Having just purchased a family-sized tub of Sabra Garden Hummus in Tuscan Herb at Club Pub the night before, Logan was thrilled at the prospect of food that didn't have an expiration date exceeding 2019. Though much to her disappointment, it turns out that the style of packaging that Sabra chose to use for its hummus product, while effective in making their product look delicious and lively (with pictures of vegetables and colorful, exotic fonts) was not so effective in keeping the food fresh. A small patch of hyphae (the cotton-like, white stuff that dots on food) was spotted chilling in the outer rim of the container (oh my GOSH), and Logan lost all traces of her appetite.
Aside from the fact that she was down $575.00, a flu vaccine, her favorite shirt, and a nutritious meal, Logan Young managed to have a good day. It turns out, giving oneself a relaxing "spa day" is pretty hard to mess up, and Logan ended the day on a good note. 

Thursday, June 19, 2014

lord of The fruit Flies

I'd really like to share this wee little anecdote about the chaos that is my life right now.
Fruit flies.
Fruit flies everywhere.
I saw on youtube that a great, proven way to get rid of a swarm of fruit flies is to take a small dish, fill it with apple cider vinegar, cover it with saran wrap, and poke some fork-holes in the top. I'm not really sure how exactly, but somehow it worked, and after about a week of this little dish full of atrocious smelling vinegar sitting atop my microwave, there are about 15, maybe 20 fruit flies floating around in there.
Now, I guess you could say that I'm a greedy bitch, because 15, maybe 20 fruit flies just wasn't enough for me. No, I had to leave out my little fruit fly graveyard day after day, in hopes of claiming even more fruit fly lives. Karma didn't like this much, and when I opened my microwave door yesterday to retrieve my glorious steaming quinoa veggie burger, that graveyard came tumbling down, dousing not only said glorious steaming quinoa veggie burger, but myself with the atrocious vinegar, which at this point, had been marinating the corpses of 15, maybe 20 fruit flies for over two weeks.
And, as if that weren't enough, the last of the fruit flies have gotten together and had copious amounts of baby fruit flies. So naturally, I'm right back to where I started. I don't think I'm mentally healed enough to get out the apple cider vinegar just yet.
I can still smell it. *shivers*

Tuesday, February 11, 2014

where do You see yourself in 10 Years?

Heyyo mama, how 'bout this one? Purrdy.
Living in Maine. Driving a car that is reliable and gets reasonable gas milage and isn't leaking power steering fluid so badly that I have to refill the reservoir everyday because I can't afford the small fortune that it would cost to fix said leak. Owning in a small house with old New England-style charm and a kick ass garden brimming with sunflowers and tulips in the summer months. It's not exactly a shot in the dark to say that I will be living in there alone because- let's face it- #foreveralone. I will however, have somewhere around three cats, two dogs, maybe a bunny, possibly a horse or two. Just ball parking here. Oh, and some hens so I don't have to feel bad about eating eggs anymore. Maybe a cow too, if she gets along with my horses.
...sorry? Oh, you meant career-wise!
HAH. Yeah, I've got nothing. Can we make "professional napper" happen?
Is that a thing?

Sunday, April 14, 2013

"ingenuity? i Do not Understand".

After a not-so-brief hiatus of about a year and some persuasion from my sister, I've decided to pick up pace again with this little shindig. In the year of my little hiatus, I've moved from the stereotypical fishbowl world of high school and flopped into a bigger tank- college. So far, love it, as anyone would, but found myself wishing more and more that I had this blog to vent. Back home I wrote infrequently because frankly, while there are some blog-worthy fish in my hometown, crossing paths with the kind wasn't a daily occurrence. Now, living on such a big campus, it still isn't a daily occurrence, but an hourly one. 
But first, let me set some groundwork: I am not under the impression that I am some sort of "Coco Chanel-esque" wonder child myself, not by any stretch of even the most fickle of imaginations. However, though I may not dress like Coco, flatter myself by believing that I think like her. (I do share her love for a sophisticated pant-suit and tweed overcoat). 
Honestly, is it so hard to take a small step (or even a bounding leap) towards originality? By all means, feel free to dress like a bum- whatever toots your horn. But even bums don't all look identical like some sort of twisted iRobot movie. Leggings, knee-high boots and a long sleeve cotton tee was, like most fashion trends, cute when it was sparse. Everyone knows that too much of a good thing will kill you. 
That may not have been the best analogy. I'm not threatening lives here. Not yet anyways! Hah...okay. 
Another thing that I cannot wrap my head around is this "high-low" trend that has plagued the globe. I call them mullet skirts: business in the front, party in the back, and ugly all over. For most trends, there is a cycle. It goes in style, out of style, downright embarrassing, "what were we thinking", then swings right back around to in style again. Though for mullet skirts, I foresee it getting to "what were we thinking", and then just taking on the broken record effect. If I have any say in the matter, the ghastly design will live on solely in pictures, like scrunchies and beehives and those strange looking sneaker wedge things:
Trend (noun):
1. tendency: a general tendency, movementor direction
2. prevailing style: a current fashion or mode

If this is what is considered a "prevailing style"I cannot wait until the next trend comes running up like Napoleon on his ass (yeah, ole' Nappy didn't have a horse, as he was vertically challenged, so they hoisted his royal shortness atop a donkey) and spears this monotonous bitch straight through the heart. 

Thursday, November 10, 2011

hey, Men faint Too You know!

In my Biology class, as previously mentioned in my "sperm, Sperm" post, we're covering sexual reproduction, and the other day, we got to watch a video in the lab with a surprise ending! A live birth scene! "Giving birth is one of the most amazing experiences a woman can have." HAH. I actually snorted when I heard that. I've never had a baby, but I think it's safe to say that none of a woman's thoughts while in labor would be even remotely along the lines of "wow! this is amazing!". It's a pretty intense sight, and I'm sure anyone would have a hard time keeping their eyes on the screen without cringing and looking away. I suppose women come with a natural knowledge of what giving birth would look like, while men on the other hand, do not. At least, that's what I gathered from from my male classmates' reactions. At the end of class, my professor actually confessed that one of her students (male, of course) a few semesters prior had actually fainted!
Now, on that note, let's think about this for a second. Can we all just take a second and picture what giving birth looks like, in order to prevent being blind-sighted in the future and loosing consciousness at the sight?

((While looking for a picture to insert here, I came across this. While it doesn't really go with what I'm talking about at all, it made me laugh extremely hard.))
((They can't even help him up, because they're in uniform and they cant move! They just left him there until the parade was over! HAHAHAHAHA!))

Okay, moving on.
Warning: I am about to branch off into a totally irrelevant but somewhat entertaining tangent.
I was getting a cup of coffee at 7Eleven the other morning, and I'm broke, so I pay in change. I had exactly $1.70 and a medium coffee costs $1.69. However, when I gave her my money and waited expectantly for my penny, the cashier just stared at me, smacking her Bubblicious.
"Do you want your penny?"
Um. YES? It's my penny! Why would I not want it?
But of course, my non-confrontationalist, nonchalant alter ego just said cooly, "Oh, no. It's fine." and I WALKED AWAY. And now, I can't stop thinking about that damn penny. My college fund was set back one 100th of a dollar because I couldn't assert myself at a 7Eleven at 8 o'clock in the morning.
And, as if that wasn't bad enough, my coffee tasted like cough medicine.

Saturday, November 5, 2011

Ventures of voluminocity-Ish-Ness.

I wanted to find a new hairstyle today. And it just happened to be the day when I tried for more volume in my hair. I read this article online that says you can get more "voluminous" hair if you flip your head upside down and blow-dry the roots of your hair while it's still wet. 
Like most of my spontaneous ventures, the idea made sense at the time, so I got out my blow dryer and went for it. When my hair felt relatively dry, i flipped my head right side up again, only to find that instead of my hair looking like the girls in the picture, I had a bona fide afro. 
Literally! And- thank the good Lord- my hair doesn't normally look like that, so I did what any normal teenage girl would do. I freaked.
So, with the hopes to make the afro go away, I decided to douse my hair in the shower with water. I had just taken a shower, and I didn't feel like taking another one, so I just got a towel out and put it around my shoulders. I have one of those detachable shower heads, so I was leaning back into the shower, not wanting to get my clothes wet. But I put the thing too close to my head, and it got tangled in my 'fro. I was yanking on the spout, trying to get it untangled, when I dropped it and it went crazy; spewing water ALL OVER THE BATHROOM. By the time I got it turned off, it seemed like the only thing that wasn't drenched was MY HAIR. 
Needless to say, I won't be doing that again.

^^^ This is something I wrote back in 2008 for a former blog. Regardless, I find myself still making this mistake over and over again. I just can't resist. The logic seems flawless! Something about blowdrying your hair upside down is just magical, apparently, else I would have stopped the day I wrote this three years ago.
I am forever cursed with flat hair.
((Today was a bad hair day for me, if you couldn't gather.))

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

"sperm, Sperm"

Looking back at the past few entries I posted, I realize that they're pretty...depressing? The last thing I want to do is sound like a solemn, pessimistic teenager, so I made a promise to myself that my next post would be less about the things that aggravate me, and more about...(yes, this was a legitimate pause in my thought process. What else is there to write about?) ...some of the things that have happened to me in the past few days.
Forgive me if my assumption is incorrect, but I'm fairly certain that we all have had our fair share of embarrassing moments. If you haven't ever done anything that made you want to run and hide in a ditch and never show your face again, than you my friend, are a cyborg, and I am sorry. I however, and very much not a cyborg, and have moments like those daily. For instance, yesterday in Bio 1, I found myself reading my new book, Will Grayson, Will Grayson by John Green and David Levithan during the 15 minute break we have when my professor says shes going to make copies, but is really going to kick her son out of her office, who frequently snoozes on the sofa. ((Side note: John Green is one of my three all-time favorite authors, and if you haven't read any of his books, I command you to. Right now.)) 
While I am only on page 70-something, the book is proving to be exponentially funny. One line in particular on page 57 from David Levithan, reads “...even Roger, our square-headed manager, is telling us that he and his wife are going to be 'having a night in' – wink wink, nudge nudge, hump hump, spew spew. I'd rather picture a festering wound with maggots crawling into it.” As soon as I read “spew spew”, I was straining to hold back my laughter. It was like that terrible moment when you realize you have a monstrous sneeze coming on in the middle of a dead-quiet exam, except I was about to burst out into a laughing fit. And as fate would have it, this moment was the exact moment that my professor walked back into the room, ready to pick up the lesson. Not just any lesson though, my lovely readers. No, the chapter scheduled for today was the one on sexual reproduction, a topic that never really stops being uncomfortable, no matter what age you are.
So the embarrassing part of this whole story is the fact that I was still giggling about “spew spew” when she started to throw around “sperm sperm”. Thus, the entire collegiate class now thinks I have the maturity level of a 12 year old boy, seeing as a large portion of them were glancing my way as I covered my mouth, trying to suppress my toothy smile.
Next on my daily list of embarrassing moments is one that I was lucky enough to be the only witness to. Long story short, it involved a door and a moment of confusion concerning wether it was push or pull. I found myself fiercely yanking on a classroom door that was a “push” door, which, in my defense, was not clearly labeled. This is really something us embarrassment-prone people should work on, especially us blondes. It's not like we don't have a bad enough reputation for this kind of thing already.
Fun fact: I'm in the car driving to Orlando at the moment to visit my sister. No, I'm not literally driving, obviously; I managed to mooch a ride off of someone else this time, which is nice.
Until next time. Or whenever I have another embarrassing moment. Which will be tomorrow.