Adventures in Cooking, Packing, and Gospel

So, the countdown to me leaving for school is inching towards 0, and I'm really starting to feel the heat in the kitchen (or maybe that's just me sitting in a house without A/C in Oklahoma in August). Between spending all my money on things I'm going to need in the near future and having to plan last moments with people before I'm gone for a while, it's a mystery to me why I haven't gone completely bonkers. Or, have I? Hmm. 

Yum! And that's definitely not beer. Nope. Shhh.

One of the things I had been aiming to do for a really long time (and I really mean a really long time ago, because I said I'd do this last winter) was cook a meal that Bruce would eat and possibly want to hug with his mouth. Now, I'm kind of a kitchen daydreamer. I always find awesome recipes on Pinterest and other blogs that I follow, but I
never actually cook any of them because I'm afraid of messing up and just being a terrible cook. So, I finally took hold of my life and cooked something (Of course, Bruce gave me all kinds of helpful pointers, so some credit must be given to him).

Sunday night, I made a very delicious lasagna soup for the two of us (oh, and Bruce made bread, but this blog isn't about his perfect bread, dammit!!). The recipe I used as a base came from Shugary Sweets. I'll admit I went a little crazy with the Italian seasoning, but it was still an orgasm for my deprived tastebuds. And I'm just going to toot my own horn for a moment because I'm pretty damn proud of myself for making something that didn't kill anyone. Yet. Hopefully me cooking things will become a regular thing I take a whack at because I'd really love to try some of the tasty things I have bookmarked in my "Recipes" folder. Also, I bet my flatmates wouldn't be too upset if I made them things every once in a blue moon.

But, you know, while I'm not being a total badass Italian in the kitchen, I have been thinking about packing my stuff because I'm moving in less than 48 hours. You see, I hadn't even started packing until about 30 minutes ago. Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm a little behind on the times. Sue me.

The thing about packing is that I mysteriously forget how to do it every single time I have to do it. Like, I just packed this shit up in May. How have I already forgotten how I managed to do that? It's only been 3 months! Suddenly it's like I don't know what to do with any of my stuff. You know, it also probably doesn't help that I buy things all the time.

I'm not too stressed about it because I always find a way to make things work. I have a gift, I suppose. I'm good at improvising when I suddenly can't remember what I'm actually supposed to be doing. Some call it bullshitting, but I'd rather be full of shit than be without all my prized possessions, ya know? So, if you're reading this and also working on packing your stuff and moving, here's my advice: wait until the last minute and end up throwing everything into random boxes and storage containers and suitcases and throw it in your trunk like you just don't give a flying fart in space. Because you don't.

In other news, sometimes I find really good music and consider sharing it with other people. This is one of those times. I've been having an affair with the super duper theatrical band Panic! At The Disco since like 2005, so it's no surprise that when they started releasing new music from their upcoming 4th studio album I immediately fell in love all over again and I got the musical tingles. Their first single "Miss Jackson" featuring Lolo was freaking weird and exciting and had a slight flair of Fall Out Boy throughout it (and that makes perfect sense because the two bands will be touring together this fall).

Today I'm talking about Sunday's release of "This Is Gospel." I was totally taken by surprise when I noticed the sudden flailing among the fangirls on Twitter and Tumblr. I can't even put into words how interesting this song is, and the video concept is crazy one-of-a-kind (as usual!). I'm not normally crazy about the electronic/ autotune sound, but Brendon Urie makes it sound good. Dude. I can't even put into words any feelings I have for this song or the band or the upcoming album, so I'm just going to leave you with it so I can get back to thinking about packing.

10 Tips for Incoming College Freshman

Probably. It's college after all.

With my newly engaged "oh-my-god-I'm-going-back-to-school-in-like-3 weeks" panic, it kind of hit me that  I'm not the only person preparing to pack up all the shit I thought I was finished dealing with when I finished unpacking it (finally) just a few weeks ago. I'm sort of a lucky one seeing as I've done this juggling act multiple times now. I mean, does it get any easier each year? No, not really, but I've definitely learned so much from just living and going with the flow of things. 

So, for any readers headed back to college for either the first time or the millionth, I've compiled some tips I think might be helpful in one way or another.

1. As you pack your stuff to move to your residence hall, apartment, or house away from where you normally reside or keep a majority of your things, try to clean your room. The cleaner you leave it when you head out the door, the happier you'll be when you come home for any weekends or major holiday breaks.

2. Don't overpack. I am definitely guilty of having overpacked my freshman year of college. I pretty much thought it was best if I took everything I could possibly need (aka everything I owned). Unless you're unsure of the climate changes in the city or state you're moving to, or are moving so far away from home that you have no other choice, don't take your winter clothes with you when it is still 110 degrees outside. Also, don't take clothes you don't wear. What? You think college is going to suddenly make you want to wear that skirt you bought a year ago that still has the price tags attached? No. If you haven't worn it since New Year's, don't take it. Donate it or sell it. As for books, movies, and other knick-knacks, be conservative,

3. Take advantage of amenities your tuition pays for. Most schools give every student a gym membership with their tuition. My school has tons of locations to play outdoor sports. If you want to avoid becoming sluggish or GASP! gaining the glorious freshman 15, I strongly suggest you go hog wild while you're not paying for these things right out of your own pocket. Also, if your school has a stupid fee for walking on the damn grass, you better walk on that damn grass every single day.

4. Don't pull all-nighters if you don't have to. Personally, I have never in my whole life pulled an academic all-nighter. I love my sleep way too much to even consider it. If you're like me, do your work ahead of time so you're not scrambling the night before to finish a 10 page paper comparing evolution and creationism. You'll thank yourself in the long run.


5. Make a friend in each of your classes. Not only will it make going to class more enjoyable, but you also won't feel like a total outcast if you don't already have friends in that lecture or lab. They are helpful for when you miss a class because you're too hungover or just too lazy. You can easily email or text them asking for missed notes, assignments, or any announcements the professor might have made during that class period. Plus, HELLO! Study buddy! 

6. Join student organizations at the beginning of the semester. Don't be the person who spends all their time in their room playing video games alone or studying. College isn't just about academics. It's also about making friends, making connections, and learning to interact with new people.

7. Orientation weekend is a goldmine! Free everything! Take advantage of any coupons, free shirts or other gear, free food, and learning about what's happening on campus. Also, local businesses might have booths set-up, so walk around and take a peek. Also, and I can't stress this enough, if there is a booth with free safe-sex resources, TAKE THEM ALL. Ain't nobody got time to a raise a baby or nurse an STD/STI. Even if you don't plan on having any kind of sexy times until you're married, take them. They may come in handy at some time for either you or a friend. 


8. You don't have to like your roommate, but you still need to respect them. Think common courtesy. Do unto others as you would have done unto you. Don't be THAT roommate who makes tons of noise while the other sleeps or have unannounced sexy times without a little warning. Maybe make some kind of roommate agreement when you move-in to insure that things won't be a living Hell for both of you.

NOTHING MAKES SENSE ON MY BLOG ANYMORE! 

9. Majors are for schmucks (sometimes). If you don't have any idea what you want to major in or even what you might want to do after college, no sweat. Tons of college students go undecided until the very last possible second. Take your time taking the classes that sound most interesting to you, and then go from there.

10. Make it your own experience. 

So, hopefully some of those tips helped you out. And if not, I don't care. I'm just a junior in college with a blog. What do I know? 

Would You Like Fries With That Shake?

Today, I guess I'm taking a page from my blogging pal Brandon's book by doing a second post! See, I knew getting hooked on his blog would lead to some self-improvement. (Go check out his blog, by the way. He's an awesome writer and a pretty cool cat).

Yesterday I was at work and it was a pretty slow day. I spent a good portion of my shift doing things to
make myself look busy (like cleaning and taking frequent trips to see if the bathrooms were looking okay). There was literally no one customers in the lobby at one point so I decided to refill the sauce packet dispenser thing by the register. As I was neatly arranging packets of soy sauce and hot mustard into this metal bin, my manager was behind me taking his meal break and talking on the phone. I was trying to listen in on his conversation, but he's just a little too Hispanic for me to do that if you know what I mean.

Anyway, I started thinking about whether he always wanted to be a manager at a fast food chain restaurant. Like, when he was growing up, did he have any other ambitions or dreams for his future career? An astronaut, maybe? At what point did he realize the only thing going for him was fast food employment?

Honestly, I thought about asking him because I really was curious. I talked myself out of that, though, as to not seem to nosy.

But, seriously, think about it. People who work in the ultra-glamorous career field of fast food once wanted to do something else with their lives to support themselves. It wasn't like they grew up telling their parents that they wanted to run their own Taco Bell later in life. I wonder what it was that made them think that was all they had going for them. I mean, I don't entirely hate my job, but I would never consider working there for an extended amount of time. There is a point when I actually want to pursue my dream career, ya know?

Don't get me wrong, though! The fast food industry isn't a horrible career field to work in! I am not saying that anyone should be ashamed for being a manager at a Wendy's or Burger King. After all, it's an industry that will probably never die as long as America is still fat and sassy. I'm just considering the fact that these people had ambitions other than fast food.

How do people get stuck with jobs they might never have anticipated? 
How do people get jobs they really love and enjoy and keep them?

Those are things I often think about because I am in college working on a degree that might or might not take me where I want to be in 10 years. I mean, even now, I sometimes lose sleep at night thinking about whether I even enjoy writing anymore. What does that say about me or my future? 

I don't know. I'll just leave that for Future Angela to figure out.

Trust.

Trust (along with communication and overall compatibility) is one of the key ingredients in any lasting relationship (either platonic or romantic). Honestly, I'll be the first to raise my hand and say that I'm not one to jump on the trust train when I meet people, and that a lot of people don't see me as a proper candidate for someone they want to put their trust in at the end of the day. I have major trust issues because of life experiences, and I have broken the trust of others by doing and saying really stupid things over the years. I'm not perfect, but I'm sure that everyone was already aware of that fickle slice of information. 

In the hustle and bustle of trying to woo someone over or even maintain something that's already been constructed, it is fairly easy to forget to show that you trust someone AND that you're worthy of being trusted. Like cooking bacon, if you leave it alone for too long, something is going to end up burnt, and, let's face it, burnt isn't tasty and it isn't something you'd want to invest your time in. That crap is going straight for the trashcan.

Something happened recently (not something bad, for all those who will read this and assume that some kind of God-awful thing happened) that reminded me that trust is not a simple thing, and it comes in all types of forms. Growing up, trust meant keeping secrets. (Don't tell Bobby that Judy has a crush on her,  Don't tell Lisa she's getting an American Girl sleeping bag for her birthday, etc). Trust was created through verbal agreements like promises and pinky swears. It wasn't until recently that I realized trust can be shown in ways I wasn't even aware of during my adolescence. I've realized I trust others more than I thought.

If I sing in the car (even when I know I don't sound good) when I'm with you, I trust you. If I let myself eat half a pizza while sitting across from you, I trust you not to judge me for being such a fatass. If I allow myself to fall asleep right next to you, I trust you. If I let you touch me at all, I trust you. If I let you see me cry, I trust you. If I let you read my writing, I trust you. If I tell you things you know no one else knows, I trust you. If, despite the struggle I'll put out, I watch something scary with you, you better bet your booty that I trust you.  If I let you in, I trust you.

The catch, though, is that that trust can be gone in a blink of an eye. 

At the end of the journey, I want to be able to look at the people I've brought along with me and know that I'm not going to be betrayed or hurt by any of them. Sadly, I've lost a lot of cool cats along the way so far because of trust issues. As I get older and a little bit wiser, though, I've learned that anyone who didn't cut it has had something in common with the others who also didn't cut it.

I want to be surrounded by those I love and those who send love in return. Is that too much to ask for?

Hey June, Don't Make It Bad

Happy June, lovely readers! Although I have no idea if anything cool happens in June due to the fact that I haven't changed the page of my zombie-themed calendar yet, I'm sure there's something. And, if not, whatever.

Mike Falzone and Coffee Girl

Anywho, lucky me is on a day off from work today, so that pretty much gives me permission to do nothing that can be defined as physical movement. Happy day! In reality, though, I'll probably end up trying to finish unpacking (a chore that seems to have taken me three blissful weeks to complete, mind you) my stuff from college along with cleaning my room while listening to Mike Falzone's podcast "Welcome to the Podcast!" (which you should totally go give a listen because he and his lady are hilarious and it is totally free and available on iTunes! **language warning for the kids**). Actually, none of that will probably happen, but it's nice to think about, ya know? But for now, I'm just going to take some time to write this lovely blog post. Boom!

With the summer heat starting to roar into Oklahoma, I've been hit with a lot of nostalgia. Past summers have typically been pretty nice to me (with exceptions here and there). Concerts of the Jonas Brothers variety (don't judge, just put yo' pom poms down for me), going to the local water park, staying up until who-knows-when and sleeping until never-gonna-happen after drinking energy drinks (Grape NOS and Black Mamba Venom Energy were once the only ways I could pretend to be awake) and having access to the Internet. Smells like summer, right? Oh, the good old days when I didn't have responsibilities or financial burdens. 

Sexxxy

The summer before my freshman year of high school, if I remember well, was actually a pretty decent summer. Despite my constant need to update my at-the-time blog (mentioned in detail here) and fiddle around on Paint Shop Pro, my life wasn't entirely consumed by one thing. That summer was the summer of movies for me. I was fresh out of middle school and still in contact with my close friends
from those torturous years, so we went to the cinema all the time (it probably wasn't actually all the time, but actually like 3 times pfft). Can we all just take a moment of silence for emo Peter Parker in Spider-Man 3? *touches up eyeliner* Okay, we're done with that.  At the time, though, he was the hottest thing in my mind. That summer I also ate a lot of Arby's. I don't even know.

STOP JUDGING ME! YOU DON'T KNOW MY LIFE!

But the big thing about that summer was the loss of my J-Card. Yup, that was the summer the Jonas Brothers entered my life and stayed a long three years. I can't even remember how exactly I found the Jonas Brothers. Was it that I had their catchy single "Year 3000" on my iPod?  I don't even know. I just know that I was hooked. Here, I'll paint you a picture! I found out they were coming to Tulsa, so I begged for tickets (which had a cost of $27.50 each, btw. That's never going to happen ever again). I wanted a physical copy of their out-of-print debut album so I found a copy on eBay for like $30. They had a new album coming out in August of that year, so you know I had to preorder that ish. Sadly, though, that was probably the cheapest year for my JB obsession.

Man, my life is so sad. 

I'll tell you what pisses me off about that whole JB ordeal, though. At the concert, they did meet-and-greets afterwards and each pass was like $20 (HAHAHAHAHAAH!). I made the biggest mistake of my whole life that night. I decided to not get a M&G pass and instead get a stupid t-shirt and hat! Disastrous, I know! But whatever! 

Life goes on. But, as you can see, I'm still not over it. Never. 

Orange Mashugana

Long time, no blog, right? Oh well! I have good excuses for why I failed to write much over the last week or so. Like, oh, I don't know... That I AM NO LONGER UNEMPLOYED! 

Yup, yup! You heard it! My streak of perpetual unemployment seems to be not as perpetual as I once assumed. That, kids, just shows that you shouldn't count your chickens before they hatch. Anyway, the last four days of my life have been pretty booked up, so I hope I can make it up to anyone who has actually missed reading about my life, thoughts, and other mashugana that I come up with from somewhere deep inside the crevices of my fragile mind.

So, last night, I got off work and went over to the Wal-Mart Neighborhood Market to get a sick Bruce some orange juice (how nice am I? Seriously?). Okay, let me just say that this Wal-Mart is open 24/7, so when I went prancing in at 10:30 at night, I really wasn't sure what kind of crowd I was going to see. Well, apparently, it's just workers restocking things. To be honest, I was hoping for a late-night crowd of crackheads, but when has Wal-Mart ever actually met my expectations of anything? Never. 

I found the orange juice in the maze of aisles and sectioned off arrays of baked goods that I really wanted to buy but talked myself out of eventually. When I was looking at the small selection of orange juice that was at my disposal, I realized I had no idea what any of the information on any of the containers meant. "Made from concentrate?" What? What the hell does that mean? Was it made by a worker who was really concentrated on making the best bottle of OJ ever? And what about pulp vs no
pulp vs extra pulp? Personally, I hate the feeling of drinking pulp so I always opt for the no pulp, but what if pulp is actually really good for you and pretty much the only nutritionally beneficial element of a bottle of OJ? This was really something to think about especially since I was buying it for someone who was sick, you know? 

Eventually, I just grabbed a big bottle of Tropicana without pulp because it had the prettiest label. I'm sure that says plenty of untrue things about me. 

I'm sure this story had a point, but, a few Sour Punch Straws later, I can't remember what that might have been.

Being an adult and having to make choices like "Which is the healthiest brand of orange juice?" just kind of freaks me out. Like, I have no idea how people walk into grocery stores and know what all the labels mean. Sure, I know not to buy anything with high-fructose corn syrup (or really anything with corn in it) or artificial sweeteners that rhyme with gross, but what else should I know? I can't Google every grocery product individually like "Are Sour Punch Straws bad for me?" because I'd be in the store for the rest of time. But, idiots shop for groceries. So, I don't know.

So, I guess the point of this is that there should only be one brand of OJ and it should be the healthiest OJ ever because I am incapable of picking out a bottle of juice.

Why Not You?

Every once in a full moon, I like to go on FaceBook and see if I can remember the names of all the people I graduated high school with. Sadly, I can't remember like a fourth of them. So, when someone I had totally forgotten existed pops up on my feed or in the search results unexpectedly, I instantly have to know what happened to them since I apparently forgot they were a person that I even knew or just really a person at all because my mind is special. Yeah, so some investigation happens. It's kind of very entertaining to find out who got fat, who is still a narrow-minded buttface (no, seriously, his face looks like a butt), who dropped out of college, and who got really freaking hot once they abandoned that awkward high school charm that I swear is sewn into private school uniforms. (Or maybe my tastes just changed).

My question is, for those that look like they've got it all together, why not you? Why didn't I fall in love with you when you were in my second hour chemistry class sophomore year? Why weren't we closer than you just copying my algebra 1 homework 5 minutes before class? Why didn't we hangout more when we had the chance instead of just passing each other in the halls everyday like "whatever"? Why did it take me 2 years of being away from you to realize how awesome you are? 

I can't say exactly why I would even want to consider anyone I went to high school with as a regret, but some nights I'm just left to wonder why things weren't different.

I mean, I have theories about why things were the way they were back then, but I'd rather not get into that stuff in this particular post.

The honesty behind this post is that I wouldn't want anything to be any different from the way it was because the people that are on the computer screen or under a name in my phone didn't exist in 2007 or even in 2011 when we all graduated together on a sticky May evening. There were reasons I didn't
want to be closer to them, and they didn't want anything to do with me.

Also, these people that I'm talking about, they really don't have it all together. Instagram posts and tweets don't mean anything. The Facebook statuses about whatever might be happening in the lives of these people don't mean anything. Trust me, I've faked my way through my own fair share of social networking sites (I'm kind of a pro, no big deal).

John Green once wrote, "Just remember that sometimes, the way you think about a person isn’t the way they actually are…People are different when you can smell them and see them up close, you know?"

So, as to not crush my dreams that the people I went to high school with are actually good people deep down passed their rotting livers, I think I'll just avoid being in the same room with any of them until our 10 year reunion (when hopefully I will have a classy, tall-dark-and-handsome kind of husband and a great body) so that the realities of these people don't have to be a thing.

Wait, I bet you're thinking that that's not the way to live. You're right. Thankfully, I don't know any of these people anymore, so it's not like I'm making up stories and lives for people I actually see on a daily basis.

But I'm still going to wonder and ask myself "what if..." and "why not?" and "how come?" because I'll never truly be satisfied with my life choices. But I have what I have and I had what I had. The people that I call my friends today are way better than anything I could have every imagined, and that should be enough.

 It is enough. 

When The Girls Stop By For The Summer

Amen!

Well, it is very much official. I AM ON SUMMER VACATION, CAKE SNIFFERS! 

But, you know, I've still got that whole "perpetually unemployed" thing to resolve. We'll see what happens with that. But, other than that, I'm on vacation from EVERYTHING. And after the Hell of a semester I've just finished, I think I am pretty deserving of some major R&R and a big bag of Sour Patch Kids.

So, what are my plans for the summer? Nothing fancy or super exciting, I swear (ain't nobody got the money for that!). Actually, I don't really have plans. I'll probably just go with the flow, and take it one day at a time by sitting around complaining about the Oklahoma heat (no, not the Thunder, sorry) and  thinking about all the productive things I could potentially be doing instead of not sitting there doing nothing. But, I do have things I want to do (but that really means nothing because I always WANT to do things, but you know how it is). So, here's my "Optional Sensational Summer Bucket List" (Maybe you'll get some ideas as to what you might want to do with yourself this summer from how lame I really am).

1. Finish the book I've been reading for the last 2 months (The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold, for the curious reader)
2. Dip into my feminine side and do some of those DIY Pinterest craft things (which would require me to actually get a Pinterest account to begin with. Ugh.)
3. Get a job (shut up)
4. Lose 7 pounds / go down a jean size
5. Hit up the library and check out the erotica section and read it in public without an ounce of shame
6. Learn to use chopsticks
7. Throw out all the high school stuff I've been hoarding for the last million years
8. Immerse myself in historic Oklahoma culture by doing one of my favorite things: going to museums
9. Find a new song to be stuck on that isn't "Kokomo" by the Beach Boys (♫ Aruba, Jamaica, oooh I wanna take ya..♫)
10. Take it easy

Pretty much

So, now you guys know how lame I am when I have no immediate responsibilities or a routine to uphold. Hey, what can I say? I'm a college student with repressed ambition. 

But, let's be serious, if I can't get a job, I'll probably spend my entire summer feeling ashamed that I'm not worthy of making money and that list will just die like the dreams of angry men. I'll be a little Gavroche crawling through the barricade to my untimely and under-appreciated death. I'LL BE NOTHING BUT TROUBLE AGAIN AND AGAIN! Can someone please do a parody of "Red and Black" for me about my first world struggles? Les Mis, man. 

I'm just Chandler Bing, guys. 

Tales From Room 1109

So, if I hadn't made it clear over the last 40 posts or whatever, I've been living in a dorm room for the last 9 months or so. As a sophomore in college, I think it is safe to say that doing a second round in the dorms after freshman year was singlehandedly the worst mistake I have made in college thus far (but taking "Rocks for Jocks" follows close behind, just fyi). You can safely assume that as I prepare to spend my last night in this tomb of a room the hallelujah chorus is blasting as my climactic background music. 

Okay, so you might be wondering why I regret living in the dorms. Boy, where do I even begin? 

Do I start with the roommate I had for 2 months that liked to get up at 7 am every single day of the week without fail to eat a bowl of cereal as loud as she possibly could as if she was actually trying to wake me up? (Note: I didn't even have class until 12:30 so being woken up at 7 was liking waking up to Satan's buttcrack) Also, she was diabetic so I already kind of hated her for that. When she moved out in October, I pretty much celebrated by not wearing pants for an entire weekend.


Do I begin with the heathens I had living on my floor? I think I'll start with that one because it's still pretty relevant.

So, my floor is upperclassmen coed, which I thought was going to be cool and possibly increase my chances of finding my one true love (WHERE ARE MY SUITORS??). Nope. Not at all. While not everyone on my floor was terrible (mostly the people who I never saw), the rest of the floor was almost a sequel to "Carrie." I can't even count the times I tweeted about wanting to dump pig's blood all over all of them and then proceed to burn them all up in a school gym. I'm not violent, but these violent thoughts possessed me quite often. (writer problems, guys)

My floormates could possibly be the most inconsiderate people I have ever met. It's basically this one big clique that call themselves "The Party Planning Committee" (but I have actually never seen them plan anything ever). It consists of Troll Boy (he literally looks like an ugly ogre), High Leprechaun (and not even a cute leprechaun like in The Luck of the Irish), The Advanced High Schooler (he was 17 when he started his JUNIOR year of college this year soooo yeah), Biracial Miss Piggy, and The Blondes (roommates who just happened to be blonde).  You know, I'm sure they are all nice people, but no. I lost all respect for them when they decided it would be okay to have a party in the hallway in the middle of the night. No.

They are seriously the loudest people I have ever met. They don't understand common courtesy for
people who may or may not be studying or sleeping.

Yes, maybe I am a party pooping stick in the mud, but if anyone (and I seriously mean ANYONE) disturbs my sleep, I automatically hate them. My sleep is my preecccciioouuss. Take it away from me, and you will die. Eventually.

It's people like them that make me wish I had an alcohol problem. I'm not even due for that until I hit 30. Stop trying to drive me mad! 

Will I miss any of them? No. Not at all. In fact, I'll probably still hate them years from now. They'll be the first to die whenever I start writing horror novels (after my erotica goes viral, of course).

Next year, I hopefully won't be fantasizing about killing my roommates (OMG can I be British and call them flatmates?). But if I do, this blog will probably be the first to know.

But seriously, I have the worst luck with living with people. Thus, I'm probably going to die alone. Just saying.

You and Me and My Erotica

As of recently, having discovered where the real money is in writing, I've decided I'm going to pursue the great art of erotic paperbacks (yes, you know, the ones grocery stores stick in the corner by the magazines and coloring books). Despite my own lack of sexual allure, I've read enough Hancest (Hanson incest) fan fiction and I've spent like 4 years on Tumblr, so you know, I know about the sex. It really can't be that hard if you really think about it. I mean, Fifty Shades of Grey, which originally was written as Twilight fan fiction, got published and has sold like one bagillion copies. So, what I'm thinking is I have to get in on that sweetness because money.

So, you might be thinking that I am totally not the person to be writing such filth, and I definitely agree with you on that. Like, what do I know about romance or making the sex happen? I'm 20, perpetually single, and only attract guys who religiously watch Doctor Who. That's not enough credibility to make me a candidate for such a career, but seriously.

So, what's my game plan? Well, pretty much, I have a four-step plan for my success as an erotica novelist.



1. Read lots of bad erotica to get a grasp on plots and writing techniques. Plus, I really need to find out where all the hot Fabio-esque models are, so I can have the absolute best men on my covers. That's
probably the real key to making money off these pieces of literature. Just saying. The secrets are in the lush, blonde locks. 

2. Create a cool, sexy pen name because there is no way I'm putting my name on this trash (plus, my name just wouldn't look good on a book. That's why I need to get married soon and get a new last name. WHERE ARE MY SUITORS?). Once I have a cool, sexy pen name, the rest will come magically.

3. Write erotica. Yeah. Pretty much. And, honestly, I'd probably write all of them while listening to the only sexual song of my youth. Yes, I'm talking about "Digital Get Down" by NSYNC. Shhh. I know. I don't know why I was allowed to listen to that either.

4. Make so much money they actually have to bring it to my house in wheelbarrows and put it in those cloth sacks with big green dollar signs on them. I'll finally be able to afford to over-compensate for my lack of sexual allure with tons of money.

See? It's totally a great plan.

The sad thing about all this is that I would probably write some really fantastic erotica if I actually sat down and tried. So, maybe one day. Perhaps, sooner than anyone thinks.

But you may never know because of my sexy, cool pen name. Then again, I might give myself away with all the references to the steamy cage scene in LOST. But that might just be coincidental. You don't know my life!

The Perks of Being Unemployed

Just kidding, you broke-ass hooligan. 

There aren't any real perks to being unemployed. Well, that is, unless you count being able to sleep in and not put on a bra freaking ever. Also, there's that whole not having responsibilities thing that is kind of nice every once in a while. I mean, who doesn't want to spend 9 hours straight playing the Sims 3 (with all the lovely expansion packs, mind you)? I've been technically unemployed since February of 2010, and I'm a little nervous to even say that because I'm not sure if 5 months of working for my dad counts as really being employed (but for the sake of resumes and job applications, it totally does).  And every summer since then, I've said that I was going to finally get a job and be all self-sufficient or whatever. Needless to say, I never did that. Well, this summer, I'm out of excuses. 

One of my close friends recently announced that she'd scored a super-mega-foxy-awesome-hot job at Hobby Lobby (it's the Heaven of craft stores, if you're not familiar with it), and I suddenly had this moment of clarity. If this girl could get a "real" job, then so could I. So, since then, I've been doing a lot of anti-Angela things. I updated my resume, for one. Of course, with my lack of experience and usable skills (because, apparently, the ability to blog, memorize the lyrics to Hanson's Christmas album, and find streams of TV shows and movies online aren't real skills in the real world), I have a pretty bland resume. It's whatever, though.

Yeah, but I need money, so I'mma pass on the play thing.

I also started looking for jobs. That's both stressful and boring to do. Like, Target, for example, will only let you fill out an application online if you plan to start within 60 days of submitting the application. Well, for someone like me or anyone who has more than 60 days until they'll even be in the city of the job, it's frustrating. Like, what if I go to apply closer to the end of the semester, and they aren't looking for workers for the summer anymore? Now, I don't really know how a large corporation could run out of jobs, but I'm sure that in my case they would. Yes, I am paranoid about this.

I realize, though, that a lot of stupid people have jobs, so, realistically, a smart person like myself should be able to easily get a minimum wage job, right? RIGHT?

So, why am I finally putting my foot down about this rut of unemployment? Well, I need money, and that's pretty much the only reason that counts. Also, maybe something about experience and building connections and resume fillers.

Anyway, we'll see where my job search takes me. Hopefully, right into a giant pile of wonderful money! (okay, a girl can dream!) 

The Harsh Truth About College

In high school, everyone and their long lost cousin tells you that college is worth the brutal torture that is high school, that your college years will be some of the best years of your life. I'm still waiting to see what all the fuss about college is to these people. Like, maybe their high school years were the trots, so, naturally, college sucked way less for them? Maybe they were one of the lucky ones who didn't completely lose their sanity (or maybe they did.... and that's why they think college is the bomb dot com) in the hectic mess of college courses, drunken nights, and the horrid freshman 15. Now, I don't think that college necessarily is the worst thing ever (trust me, it isn't), but I feel like there are a lot of things that get overlooked once you're out of the system.

Welcome to the real world. 

Everyone wants to know about what you've got planned for your future or what you're going to do with your useless writing degree. No matter what your major is or if you're still in that awkward "undecided" rut, you probably have some kind of idea of what you might want to do once you've got your degree and are finally free to make all kinds of batshit crazy mistakes with your life. I think people have this idea that whatever you study in college must be something that is going to get you a job that will put you in a higher tax bracket and allow you to send your kids to a snooty private school that might resemble Hogwarts. Why is that? So, naturally, when I tell people I'm a writing major, they automatically tell me that I'm probably not going to make it and should consider a major in business or decide to go pre-law or whatever. It sucks to be unsure of your own life choices, but when other people start poking around, trying to keep you from living.... Well, that takes all the fun out of majoring in something you love. It's like everyone tells you to do what you love but then, when you've decided to take that pretty piece of advice, tell you you're throwing your future away by doing so.  Thus, we all have majors we hate with classes that screw us over every single day and Mom and Dad's reserved nod of approval. 

You're a broke-ass pathetic zombie all the time.  It doesn't matter if you promptly go to bed at a time before midnight and sleep until noon, you're constantly tired. It's the kind of tired that never ends. I think it's called growing up.   Say goodbye to your stain-free pearly whites and hello to a large energy drink that could possibly kill you since you doubled your dose of Adderall a few seconds before guzzling it.  Oh? What's that? You just spent your last five bucks on that energy drink? No one cares! Get a job... oh wait... you can't get a job because your schedule is packed and, let's face it, you're way too damn tired to hold any kind of position anywhere. College is so much fun, ain't it? 

Greek pressure exists. So, maybe you decided not to follow the herd of goats headed to the Greek factory to be slaughtered, and maybe you did... I don't care. I can't tell you how many sorority or fraternity members I have talked to who have let slip that they actually kind of hate the Greek life. There is a limit on the partying, and, when that goes away and the beer goggles come off, you see how much of a mess you've gotten yourself into. Am I really paying this much money to share one bathroom with all of these people? Now, I totally understand why people go Greek, and, for the most part, it's all really beneficial to your future, but when you feel pressured into rushing or pledging Greek because it's "what all the cool kids are doing" and then learn you absolutely hate it, well, you can pretty much say farewell to having a happy college life. And then, of course, there is the disapproving gaze from the campus Plastics towards those who decided they like wearing pants that aren't leggings (because some people don't want to look like they are headed to the gym all day long, thank you very much). Now, tell me that doesn't make you feel like a total recalled Barbie doll. It totally sucks.

Let me know when you figure it out, Belle.

It sucks major Tootsie Pop when you realize you're just a speck of dust on a giant dust bunny under someone's bed. In a lecture hall thats filled with over 400 people just like you, you start to feel like you don't even matter. This professor will never notice me or learn my name because he just doesn't care. It's easy to get caught-up in the system of robotically taking notes and writing papers and barely getting by on exams (because we're not all lucky to have photographic memories or natural test-taking abilities). And, yes, you're lucky if you stand out to a professor or to really anyone who you don't already call a friend or a significant other. Some people wonder why college students get depressed or self-harm or worse.... and, you know, it's because college can make you feel like you're alone and voiceless because everyone is talking at once. There is no order or rule or talking stick to pass around while you sit criss-cross-applesauce on the floor. You either speak boldly or get washed away in the sound.

If you're in college, you may agree or disagree on these things, and, if you're in high school still, don't worry. You're safe for now.