Tow Jam

Yesterday sucked. In every possible way. Yet I sustained a fantastic mood throughout the day. I love when I do that.

I brought my Netflix with me to mail and left them in my lab which I didn't return to until 2 so missed a damn day with no flix.

I got to my first class late and made a racket getting to my seat.

After class I printed a 231 page document on the color printer in the bioengineering lab which is uber unallowed.

I went to hole punch about 70 of these pages at once and encountered my first jam of the day. This wasn't your typical, "Oh silly me" kind of jam, oh no, this thing was clenched. And I wouldn't give a damn except that my only options were 1)fix this thing or 2)throw away the stupid hole punch and reprint pages 1-70. Well anyone who knows Eric, the nazi of B63, knows #2 was absolutely not an option. At first I went at this punch thinking, ok, this is no biggie I just need to release the punchers and free the paper. Jesus Christ, people, I had to dismantle the whole thing. 15 screws, a busted spring, and myriad small paper circles later, I had released my document. What a waste of time...

Next I go to return my library books that I find out are 8 days overdue. Total = $3.70. Bite me.

I return to my vehicle to find 2nd jam of the day. My key no longer feels like it has a place in my ignition, I guess. I jiggle and jaggle and jerk and twirk but nothing, not a damn thing. And I really don't have time for this. I have to tutor stupid ass freshmen how to multiply [1 2 3] by [1;2;3]. So luckily, my shining knight is studying at Hillman and comes to relieve me from the jerking and twirking. He couldn't fix it either.

I fainted in class cause all I ate was a bowl of Italian Wedding Soup for lunch and went to the gym for a long time. Luckily this happens to me all the time, so I pretended I was tying my ballerina flat and put my head between my legs till I came to.

8:30 - My TA class is over, I return to the car, and still nothing. I guess it's AAA time. I call, they promise me an hour at most. I ring em back after an hour twenty and they say, "Sorry, babe, give it 30 more" Now this sucks, I haven't been home, Craig cooked a dinner I can't eat, and I'm just so sad.

I go to get a snack at 7-11 and see the lovely Lauren Anglestein! We chat, she lifts my spirits and as I am checking out, I get the AAA call! I was too excited, I didn't even complete the transaction, I just ran out of there after throwing my Cheez-Its at the cashier.

Ole Danny Boy from AAA fixed up the car... Guess how - BY JERKING AND TWIRKING! What does he have that I don't have?!

I'll never know. But at least I got home and didn't have to call a tow truck and wait another hour for that. Oh man, what a day.

Bono Fide

As I sit here entering clinical research data into a medical database, my mind casually wonders to events, conversations, arguments, and food stuffs of the past week. To name a few:

THE BURGLAR, THE BITCH, and THE BOTCHED DEGREE (aka my graduation party)

This little illiteration pretty closely sums up my college graduation party haha. Well I was home this weekend for a party in the honor of my high school graduate sister and me, the college grad. Freaking great party, really it was, but in retrospect there were some foul plays and some mysteries left unsolved.

INCIDENT #1 - FRIDAY NIGHT - Rowdy teens and instigating 20-somethings decide to "party like rap stars" by boozing and causing a raucus in my parent's hot tub. 3 hours, 2 cases, and myriad pruney body parts later the party moves into the house. I decide it's a good idea to beat my little sister with my college diploma that arrived in the mail that day. Ruined it. Damn. 4 years of engineering work for a piece of paper I destroy... This is why I'm hot.

INCIDENT #2 - SATURDAY AFTERNOON - I get word that my family is planning a relay race for me and my sister to compete in. Being the competive and uber creative competitor (competitive competitor?) I decide to go upstairs and plan out an outfit to distract Micky while also dazzling the crowd. After 30 minutes, I come down stairs decked out in leggings, tie died shirt and shorts, dread locks wig, Rocky Balboa headband, war paint, and shin guards. I strut my stuff downstairs acting cocky like I'm some sort of superhero... I see Micky and wave and she storms up to me, shoves me, and says "YOU RUINED MY PARTY!", "uh what?" I retort... She runs out of the room and I am left standing in front of all the guests looking like a complete tool. I changed.

INCIDENT #3 - SATURDAY EVENING - Some little punk stole money from my graduation gift box. Not alot but probably like 50 or so. Jerk.

NEXT THOUGHT ----> Why does everyone hate Bono?
Now I'm not going to go on and on about this but I would just like to make a point. Or, I guess, a counterargument to all those people who hate Bono cause he is humanitarian and coincidentally very famous.

If I stand on my little soapbox and say, "Hey all you people, get smart! Start taking care of the planet and she'll take care of you!" If I do that, some guy will just hand me a buck and say, "crack kills, kid, get yourself a coffee." INSTEAD, we let Bono do it and things actually are getting done! What's wrong with someone famous letting the word be heard?!? Ok, this is going too deep already, just wanted to make the point.

I am listening to Kimya Dawson right now on my new iTouch and I like this lyric:
"They think we're disposable, well both my thumbs opposable
Are spelled out on a double word and triple letter score"

YAY SCRABBLE!

My next blog will be a dateline-esque investigation of the Recycling Initiative in Pittsburgh.... or LACK THERE OF!

Till then, I am most sincerely yours ;-)