Bought a Car

Instructions: 

1. Press play on the YouTube video (no need to watch).

2. Then, scroll down. 

".......Aaaaaat last....

My love has come along.....

My lonely days.... are over.

... and life is like a song."

Ah, sigh. 

Life is good.

While on the phone getting an auto insurance quote...

"Let me get this straight. You graduated from Oklahoma and are currently living in Arizona, but you're moving to Alabama next week. So why do you have a Montana area code?"

Yup.

Story of my life.

May the Fourth Be With You!

The Medieval Fair

A staple of Norman culture every year is the Medieval Fair, a traveling circus-like event that camps out in Reaves Park for a three-day weekend in April.

This year, my visit to this glorious place of turkey legs and overflowing boobage was brief. I just walked around, admiring and taking pictures, for a bit. It's kinda one of those "You only really need to see it once" scenarios.

The festival has one or two large stages where various acts perform. Today I saw some belly dancing and a jester juggling.

The best part of the whole thing though, by far, is the people watching.

I swear, the crazies come out of the woodwork for these sorts of events. It's like half the people in attendance just come to watch the other half of people in attendance. It's quite fascinating, really.

And the booths selling merchandise are kinda cool. Lots of variety, with everything from legitimately talented ceramic vases to sketchy plastic magic wands with streamers.

Something for everyone, I guess.

And naturally, the food there is all fair food -- only the most delicious/disgusting stuff in the world.

Love it!

So, Funny Story...

Today I walked the entire length of campus with a full bladder. Not fun. Naturally, once I got to the library, I basically made a bee line for the bathrooms, grabbing the middle stall out of the three.

Then I washed my hands and spent about five minutes fixing my hair (side braid = unproportionately high amount of daily adjustment). Assuming I was alone, I was chatting to myself under my breath. I think I was practicing my sweet pick-up lines or something. 

Anyway, I'm standing there muttering away like a crazy person, when a small cough and the sound of a toilet paper roll comes from the corner stall. 

It scared the bazeebees out of me, and I literally let out a small scream. 

I then hightailed it out of there before the girl came out of the stall. I'm not sure which of us would be more embarrassed by that encounter. 

Unexpected Birthday Surprise

My love extends on from Jon Stewart to the mailman today. Whom I've never met. But he brings me presents all the time, so how can I not like him? Especially after a day like today, which brought some extra awesome goodies, since my birthday is only two days away.

TWO DAYS!

I'm turning the big double-two, which, by the way, has to be the most anticlimactic birthday in the average human's lifetime.

Think about it. Most of the good birthdays are gone -- one, ten, Sixteen, eighteen, twenty-one -- and the next cool birthday doesn't come until I'm 40, and that's arguable because I don't know how many people are excited about being designated "over the hill."

And after the massive celebration/libations of my twenty-first, my twenty-second doesn't hold much anticipation. In fact, I've been hunkering down all week with papers, prep for South by Southwest with Crowdstory, and getting ready to take the PRAXIS (Saturday!!!), and I almost completely forgot that my birthday was coming.

Until this morning. I got a cute card from my Grandpa...

... a touching card from my Grandmama and Granddad...

... and...

BAHAHAAAAA!!!

I'm sorry. I know I should be weirded out by the fact that the Gecko knows my birthday, but I just can't be. Not when he sends me a card like that.

And it rhymes inside. It's some silly, poorly metered poem about saving money now that I'm a year older (at least it doesn't know my exact age -- then I might be worried), but it's still pretty awesome.

Thanks, Gecko, for caring.

Snarky Perfection

The Daily Show
Tags: Daily Show Full Episodes,Political Humor & Satire Blog,The Daily Show on Facebook

I'm in love with Jon Stewart. In. Love. I'd seriously consider a marriage proposal out of the blue from this man, peppered hair and all. Homeboy is funny, witty, and tends to have a good point.

And his sarcasm is the best.

Of course, my roommates will attest to the fact that I have minor difficulties detecting sarcasm in regular conversations. But that's something for another day. I always understand when Stewey is being sarcastic -- because that's practically all the time. So naturally we're still highly compatible, regardless of my ability to detect snarkiness in real life.

Anywho, watch this and tell me you don't find this incredibly awesome. So snarky. So perfect.

Thoughts?

To Help You Love Life...

... and renew your faith in the awesomeness of humanity, I send you this.



P.S. There is a particularly wonderful laugh at about 00:22.

Quote of the Day

While discussing a Bollywood film adaptation of Bram Stoker's Dracula in my capstone class...

Professor: "Does anyone want to watch a clip of Dracula violently inseminating a poor village woman?"

One person raises their hand.

Professor: "Okay! Let's watch it!"

Amen, Sister

Yes, ma'am. I couldn't agree more.

Seriously though. It amazes me that a five-year-old girl can put exactly into words what I was trying inarticulately to describe to my roommate Madison the other night.

"I don't care if I marry you. I don't care if I marry another man. I care... if I do something that's special."

In Honor of Presidents Day Weekend...

(from here)

Ah, the simple joys in life.

Another Great Way to Waste Time

If you are still stuck in the snow like I am, or need a distraction from your otherwise busy life, check this out.

Just type in a film title, and it pops out a thesis statement that's way more articulate, concise, in-depth -- not to mention incredibly pompous (just what professors love) -- that I could ever be on my own.

Brilliant!

I may or may not be planning to use this on absolutely every paper I write between now and graduation.

. . .

"I get up every morning determined to both change the world and have one hell of a good time. Sometimes this makes planning my day difficult." -E.B. White

Why I Love My Friends

Brittany: (while looking with concern at her dying bamboo) "My poor bamboo. It's so desiccated."

Me: *snicker* *snicker*

Valerie: "You know, I didn't know what that word meant until about a year ago."

Me: *suddenly confused* "Wait. What do you mean?"

Valerie: "You know, desiccate. To dry out."

Me: "Oh! I thought she meant decimated."

Val: "Is that why you were laughing?"

Me: "Maybe."

Tess: (who just walked in) "What are we talking about?"

Val: "The word desiccate. . . It means to dry out."

Tess: "I thought it meant poop."

Val and Me: "That's defecate."

Tess: " . . . Oh."

Sign of the Times

We used a phone book to start the fire in our fire pit last night.

Notes on Flying

I would imagine that the United States seems like a much smaller place if you're a flight attendant. If you're traveling cross-country three times in a day, it has to lose some of its allure. And magic. Which is a shame.

I've flown my fair share of times (to and from school, etc), and I still love flying. It never gets old, even when I'm half-dead from a lack of sleep and the slow-to-dissipate stress from packing (because I think I'm literally incapable of starting my packing endeavors any earlier than midnight before a 6 a.m. flight. It's inevitable).

But regardless, I'm still in love with flying. I still love the exhilaration of take-off, the thrill of seeing a familiar face in a terminal of strangers, and the inner leaping of my heart when I find that my suitcase fits neatly under the 50 lb weight limit.

I used to want to be a flight attendant like nobody's business. I wanted that cute blue suit, wanted to chat with attractive pilots, and fly all over the country. I still wouldn't mind that, I guess. Especially the flirting with pilots part.

But the way I see it, flying wouldn't be the same if I did it everyday.

Old hat = no more fun.

So I'm sticking to my day job (or will, once I get one). And I'll continue to love flying, and I'll still get enjoyment from being a speedy security check-through-er, and I'll love finding that one restaurant in the Denver airport with fresh, not soggy sandwiches. Ka-ching!

At the City Brew Drive-Thru Yesterday

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Me: "Do you want anything?"
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Dad: "Sure. I'll just take a small coffee."
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Barista: *crackle* "Welcome to City Brew! What can I get for you today?!" *crackle crackle*
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Me: "Um, I'll take a small black coffee and . . .  a tall mint mocha frappuccino with skim milk, two shots of espresso, extra whip cream, and sprinkles if you have them. Thanks!"
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My Ritzy Christmas Wish List

What if you were walking along one day, minding your own beeswax and leading a simple life, when all the sudden the phone rings and it's your mom telling you that a close relative has suddenly inherited a billion dollars and, being so fond of you, wants to get you a few things for Christmas? 

My friend, will you be ready when that moment comes?

Well, today it occurred to me that I might not be ready for that moment either. I thought, here I am, over two decades old, and I still don't have a good answer for the classic question, "What would you do with a million/billion/gazillion dollars?" 

Then I started feeling really unprepared. I hate feeling unprepared.

So I decided to draft a Christmas list for exactly that kind of occasion. Just in case. You never know what might happen. The world is full of surprises.

My Ritzy Christmas Wish List

Ridiculously nice, expensive car -- maybe with doors that open vertically?

A Canon or Nikon DSLR -- Soooooo pretty!

An iPhone-- with my data plan prepaid

for forever.

A dress by Dior, s'il vous plait!

I think I could enjoy owning a villa in Tuscany.

And maybe a townhouse in Manhattan...

... complete with an elegant library packed with books.

In a good bookroom, you feel in some 

way that you are absorbing the wisdom 

contained in all the books - through 

your skin, without even opening them.

- Mark Twain 

Surprise!

Today is my roommate Madison's birthday, so, in keeping with tradition, the rest of us roommates surprised her at midnight last night with cake. Well, with brownies. And it was a miracle that she was actually surprised.

It all started when Madison had a final last night from 7:30-9:30 p.m.

I have her car and am supposed to pick her up when she is done. Halfway through said final, however, I remember that I haven't gotten her the cake yet. But before I can go out and get one, Madison calls and said she is finished. Damn. No time left to buy cake.

My roommates and I decide we'll just bake her some homemade brownies, which I thought was a brilliant idea. Until I get halfway to campus and realize that Madison's killer sense of smell is never going to let us get away with that. But it's our only option.

When Madison and I get back home, she miraculously decides to take a shower. As soon as the door is closed, Brittany and I sprint to kitchen and stir up some brownie mix. It goes in the oven pronto, but there is still over thirty minutes of bake time left when I hear the shower water fizzle out.