the super stealth, sneaky as sh**, circle of cranky

I'll start this post off by saying, "I have 20 minutes and no MS paint..." Fewf, now that I got that off my chest, now I can begin.

I've been wondering as of late why I was so damn cranky all the time. Was it school? My friends? Or my lack of boyfriend coming upon that holiday with the pink and the hearts? The answer is: all of the above an more...well that last one is kind of BS because I've just never liked Valentines Day...BF or not.

So, I wake up in the morning...around 9 am...just waiting for the day to begin. I am fully aware at this point in my adult life, that I despise mornings, so I never take my morning mood into account, mostly because its always awful. Usually, I have slow mornings, just me, bumming around my apartment...no room mates in sight, and these mornings are good, as much as mornings can be. But then there are those mornings where I can hear someone else's alarm...and they seem to refuse to turn it off, or I can hear my upstairs neighbour playing (and badly singing to) the Kid Rock Sheryl Crow song from back in the day. (This actually happened, and I threw a pillow at the ceiling in a futile effort to be angry at 8 am.) And so, the circle begins...with a bad morning wake up...

As the day progresses, there's always that one person who gets on your nerves...and this is the day that you will see them and be forced into a long conversation. You continue to become more and more cranky, without noticing of course because you're still working on being angry at Kid Rock for ever recording that song. Then, one of your friends will become the biggest douche canoe ever. Don't you worry, you'll forgive them later, but for now, they're on the shit list...and the crank-tastic explosion continues to build.

That evening, you'll return to your humble abode, and see that no one has bothered to pick up any of their stuff...awesome, right? You just shake your head...heading straight to your room, even if it is a tiny little cave. Now, you won't think that you're cranky, because you'll be internally laughing at coming up with the awesome witty saying "douche canoe" so quickly when said friend decided to be one, but then it happens. That fateful moment when someone either:
a) tries to touch anything that belongs to you
--or--
b) wants to blame you for the mess in your apartment
--or--
c) wants to have a meaningless conversation you've had 85,256 times
...and then you snap. You are so done with all the crap, you just crank at them until they leave you alone...which is usually quite effective. Mind you, you're going to immediately feel bad, but your super stealth cranky self is not about to admit you were wrong...or out of line.

Usually, for me, this is a two day extravaganza...one that usually ends in me being a total bitch-ski to everyone....Welcome to Day 1.

So it's been an epically long time...

Not gonna lie, I gave up on this venture, because it was tedious and made me spend WAY too much time playing around in Paint. Moving right long...here is my life update in 4 short bullet points!

• 1. I have no life (stick with me here)
• I am taking 21 credits at MSUM in order to graduate in May...This may or may not kill me by then but who knows? Here, for your ocular pleasure, is me...how I spend my time when my friends are out having fun.
• b. My work pants are the WORST!
• They used to be super awesome, but now they suck...which makes me very sad...
• 3. I have a phobia of checking my e-mail....
• This didn't used to be a problem, but now I get a lot of e-mail, and it has become a daunting task...
•  d. I'm recently single...and not sure what to think about it.
• Life changes are hard, and not so much fun sometimes, but decisions have to be made, and things have to get done...so I did it, and while awful, I think I'm gonna be OK.

In addition to these awesome bullet points and stupendous drawing, here's the low down on the last year: Feb 8 is cursed, I'm sure of it; I'm super cold all the time; I made bad decisions and good ones; I need a big girl job; and finally, I am OK with just being me.

O, and just so you are aware, Campus tours time is super obnoxious...I've listened to the same thing about Maclean Hall 6.3 times since sitting here...did you know that they remodeled the Dragon Cafe? And that the "art" in the Science Lab is the floor? *RANDOM FACT ALERT*

Toodles, 

Katie

It's been a while

So, it's been a while since I last posted...like too long of a while, but things have been a little hectic. I have been wresting with work, school, and some problems with family, but don't you six worry, I am going to be OK(ish).

OK, so let's start at the beginning. Approximately one month ago, we found out that my God father, my uncle Chris, has relapsed and has again been diagnosed with lung cancer. This was a big blow to me personally since I live three and one half hours away in Fargo/Moorhead...sweet. This is one of the reasons that I have not been posting; my mind has been on other things. I love my uncle soooo much! He has always been there for me, and he can light up a room with his attitude and his bright smile. 

Next, work. So my bosses at work are being sooooo incredibly horrible to me. Never in my four years of working for my employer have I been flat out told, "You work retail" as a reason that I couldn't get time off to go home, even in the situation my family is in. Now, mind you, I completely understand that I work in an industry that happens to get busier around the time of Christmas, but never did I ever think that I wasn't a "human resource" to the company...but rather a number...just an asset to be wielded as they so chose. Yep..that's pretty much the extent of my rant about work, but I could in fact continue if need be...so if you have any questions, ask me!

So, next problem: school. I am in a conundrum...do I stay up in Fargo/Moorhead with the sorority I love through what is sure to be a tough year, or do I go home and be with a family that needs me? I am so in love with the ways that I can help my sorority, and the ways that I know I can change it for the better, but at the same time, I know that I'm needed at home. WHAT CAN I DO? But, I think that the answer to all these problems will just hit me...like a rock. At least I hope it will..

So, that's the reason I haven't been posting, but I do have a post in the works that will for sure rock all of your Dots socks off! :)

I don't wanna grow up!

Remember back in those days when all you wanted was to grow? To be a big kid? To be treated like an adult? Aaah, those were the days; no responsibility, no people expecting things from you. I for one really agree with the iconic Toys ‘R Us ad, “I don’t wanna grow up…I’m a Toys ‘R Us kid!”

These days, I’m not so into Barbie dolls or Polly Pockets anymore, but I’ve found something else that is delaying my transition to adulthood: the Internet. We have spent countless hours together, and I have found some really interesting stuff…doing research…not just Facebook creeping on people. (Don’t lie to yourself, we all creep…) I find that for the first couple days I decide to be an “adult” I’m like the most productive person in the world. I clean everything, I make sure to check my bills online, and I do all the adult-like things that real adults do. I become proud of myself…in hindsight, this is always a mistake.

Another thing that the Internet keeps me from doing is my homework. O how tempting it is to just check Facebook for just one second…then three hours later you have one unfinished paper, and a more solid understanding of why you should leave your camera at home in some situations. I have made a concerted effort to not do this, but I somehow end up chatting with someone or following some new Facebook craze about what color my bra is or where I put my purse… I have no idea how many useless quizzes I’ve taken, and how many ridiculous applications I’ve authorized to access my profile information.

After a few days of being very adult-like, I have this realization…I’m in college. Why am I wasting all my free time trying to be something I’m obviously not? This is hen all the trouble starts…I revolt against all of it. I don’t wanna clean. My hands get all prune-y, and then the room that I cleaned smells very strongly of cleaner. (Not gonna lie, I tend to go a little overboard on my adult-like binge when I think NOTHING has been cleaned in FOREVER!) I don’t wanna check my bills. That only reminds me that I have no money. (And I LOATHE not having any money…I like to do stuff when I want to.) I do not want to do other adult like things because I am still in college. And, as my cousins have said, college is a very expensive way to avoid adulthood and the real world. (For those of you whose bubble I just burst, no, college is NOT the real world.)

In light of all of this, I have decided that I am never going to be an adult. I like the Internet too much…and I enjoy not freaking out about everything. So, I’m delaying the inevitable, I’m going to stay a kid as long as I can. Who’s with me?

"THAT GUY"

Today, I went to the Mystic Lake Casino Hotel with my dad, and let me tell ya, some people are just pro at being strange. Not only do they wear their “lucky outfit” (which usually consists of something that smells just awful, or some random combination of stuff that they threw on) but they do their “special ju-ju movements” that are supposed to make the machine let them win. OK, so now that the stage is set, who’s ready to be that guy…apparently, creepster who followed me around was up for the challenge.

I remember it as if it were yesterday…or earlier this evening as it were. I had finally found my current favorite slot machine with a one cent denomination (yes one cent, I’m in college and have no money) and I happily sat down and inserted my ten dollars. I was winning a bit, then losing it again; basically, I was just having fun, and trying to get to the bonus of course. Then, it happened, the one thing that all women out there just despise; that one thing that is sure to get you hated…a guy came up, sat down next to me, and peered, with his head very close to the screen of the machine he was to play, and stared at my boobs.

All I could think was how awesome it would have been if I would have had a drink to throw at him, or someone there with me to kick his ass, because in this situation, all I could do was sit in silent horror. I was wearing a perfectly acceptable outfit, no cleavage, no bra straps, nothing. Just the fact that I do have rather large boobs apparently did it for this guy…which was of course super awesome (please note the sarcasm...)

Then, as if the boob staring wasn’t bad enough, he went ultra creepy on me. He started to pet the screen of the game he was playing and mumbling to it. All I could think was, “Jeez-o-Pete can I get a break here?” But no, I could not, for you see, I was in the middle of a bonus that was sure to win me oodles and oodles of pennies, and I was not about to walk away. So I sat there, knowing that Creepy McCreeperson was sitting right next to me, probably staring again. 

As soon as my bonus was done, I hit at the collect winnings button so fast and with precision that the creepster didn’t have a chance to say anything and I was gone. I went to find my dad, who was playing some weird Texas Hold’em slot machine, and he was in the bonus round himself, so I watched. I felt as if the room was clear and I could relax now, since McCreeperson was nowhere to be seen.

Alas, my victory was short lived. I next sat down at a machine that was strikingly similar to my favorite game, and who should show up but creepy man. WTF?! Didn’t he have better things to do other than follow me around?! UUUUUUGH. Needless to say, I got up after winning fourteen dollars and walked briskly to another area of the casino.

I couldn’t believe that I had had my first run in with “that guy” in the casino of all places. I half expected to not have these encounters until I turned 21…but I couldn’t have been more wrong. Watch out ladies…that guy could be anywhere, look like anyone, and say anything.

*To any of you who were expecting killer illustrations, I may add them later, but for now, I am too upset with that guy to draw*

I don't know about you...but I'm a rockstar!

Most people don’t know this, but I am a totally awesome should-be-Grammy-award-winning rockstar. I have put on multiple shows that have lasted three and a half hours, countless impromptu concerts, and every once in a while…I rock out on the guitar. Many of you who actually know me are now questioning “How does she find the time to do this?” but fear not dear friends, this will all be addressed in due time.

This dream all started when I was in the fourth grade and we learned cursive script. I was fully engrossed in the topic and amazed that you could write so quickly without the need to pick up your pencil and reset before each letter. And then it hit me…I COULD HAVE A ROCKIN’ ROCKSTAR SIGNATURE. Now, over the years I have spent many hours and numerous sheets of college ruled notebook paper perfecting my signature…and in its current form, it’s called “You can’t read my scribble!” and I think it’s pretty awesome! 

Just in case you’re currently perplexed by my need for my rockstar signature to be completely illegible, I turn your attention to any successful rockstar or pro athlete. Can you read their signatures? No. they’re much like a very expensive doctor.

Now, as I have decided based on hours of research watching rock bands and other musicians, I needed an outfit; a stellar super awesome rockin’ outfit. I have made the executive decision, since I am in charge of my own rockstar career, that I will not wear a pink outfit, but rather blue. One, because I like blue, and two, because I will not be wearing anything “frilly” on stage; maybe a dress if the mood strikes me, but no frills…none whatsoever…ever. So, here’s a super intricate illustration of what I’ll wear.

The second most important decision I made was about my instrument…which I have decided it is going to be pink…with purple polka dots…and it will be glittery. I know you’re all thinking “Frilly!!!” but no; it’s just awesome…so step off my guitar. And just for a clarification, I do not want a pink guitar because I am a girl, but just because I like it. Here’s my guitar!

So, now that I’ve told you all pretty much everything about me being a rockstar…I feel I should explain that my best audience, so far, has been the steering wheel of my car (well two cars). Karl and Hector have been great audiences, always asking for an encore…and sometimes, Guitar Hero says I rock!

*side note:  someday, if I ever become a rockstar, you all got my first autograph!*

Yes... I used to take notes in class

Have you ever looked at your notes from class? Like reeeeeally looked at them? OK let's be honest with ourselves, most "notes" are 50% educational mumbo jumbo, and the other 50%....well that's just your basic doodles, musings, and well, anything else that's not taking notes. As I sit in CSIS...well basically anything, I find myself drawing pretty swirls through all my notes that I did manage to take, or do other things... Like write a blog post, no joke, this is me in CSIS349. Today, just in case you doubt me or are especially curious, we are learning about how if you come up with something, they'll name it after you. For example, the Hamming Code, which was somehow related to parity bits...my notes are too scrambled to make sense.. Lol

I find that the notes' issue, for me, started in high school, when I copiously wrote down every single word of my teachers ever said, especially ALP. For those of you who don't know, as I suppose no one else does, ALP (or the Autonomous Learners Program) was a class in which I had two teachers, Mr. Gau and Ms. Pederson, who smashed Social Studies and English classes together and then did some really super hard interdisciplinary stuff. And yes, it's just as fun as it sounds. Back in those days, my notes looked something like this:

I'm not going to lie, this used to make my life really extra easy on test day, but those were the days that I didn't study before Foundations right before the test. In Maple Grove Senior High lingo, Foundations is the same thing as homeroom. I decided to include a picture of myself and my Foundations teacher, D. Nelson, but he turned to the side right before we took the picture... To all my foundies peeps, this next picture is for you.

 

Now, back to the task at hand, my notes, or lack thereof in my case. I think for sake of clarity, I should tell you all that this is the second consecutive class period that I've been writing this post...so it's obviously a riveting day. But I think that I should show you the whole point of this story, the coup de gras as it were: a picture (Microsoft Paint representation) of my notes. I promise, it can't be as bad as I make it seem... I hope.

I kid you not, this is what they look like...I even break out multiple pens and/or markers to make them this awesome. I think we should all take this time to answer my first question: have you ever looked at your notes? Answering only for myself, I have to say that I do. Not only because they have valuable information on the top half of one page, but they are quite interesting pieces of art.

So to all of my three blog readers: check out your notes. Got anything interesting?