Showing posts with label Lists. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lists. Show all posts

July 1, 2013

It's About Time, July

Hello, July! Nice to see you again! 

How crazy is it that it is already July? Wasn't it February just yesterday? I'm pretty sure it was... Oh! How time flies when you're busy stuffing your face with Sour Patch Kids, blogging aimlessly about things that people didn't know they wanted to read about, listening to Lana Del Rey on repeat, and losing sleep over things beyond your years! I guess this just means we're this much closer to my 21st birthday extravaganza (aka me getting drunk off half a glass of wine and talking about how my eyes hurt).

Too-da-loo, Arschloch!
With only 6 weeks left of summer, I have decided that it's time to get shit done. I've been sitting on my
butt letting time pass me by like "Adios, Von Trapp Family Singers!" while everyone else seems to be making huge leaps into the great alps of Switzerland to avoid the Nazi troops! I want to take July on with such great vigor that it has no idea what's suddenly ransacked its pantries! I have absolutely no idea what I just said, so I hope someone out there does, by the grace of God. This is what happens when you blog on like no sleep at all. 

Between slaving away at my above minimum wage part-time job and sleeping on Bruce's couch, I've lost track of all that I wanted to accomplish this summer (the stuff I mentioned here). So, I decided to take a ride in my time machine and see how I'm doing on that list.

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 [Oh Past Angela....]
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

Not so bad, actually! 

As you can see, my expectations are quite low. I'm sure they could be lower, though. 

The funny thing, though, is that I've actually accomplished a lot in the last month and a half that I've been bebopping around this town. You know, things that aren't even on that list above. Things I hadn't even thought about back in mid-May. How strange is it that things happen when you're not waiting for them to happen? 

I think that's just life.

April 8, 2013

The Romantic Gesture

I write more about romantic stuff than I actually do romantic stuff. Is that part of the curse of being a damaged writer who is forever single? Probably. 

So, I saw this retweet by Taco Bell on twitter (duhhh) and it was a girl talking about how she got asked to her prom via a verde sauce packet. Like, I guess he got a packet that had a blank white place to write your own message and he wrote "Prom?" in the space and gave it to her. Okay, maybe it is just the hopeless romantic that nests in my body all year long talking and controlling my mind, but this totally made me want a boyfriend (and no, not a creepy guy from the internet). And so I started to think about all the perfect ways a guy could propose going steady with me or asking me on a date that would just be completely irresistible to my girlish wonder.

Number one, and this will forever be a school girl fantasy for me, is through one of those stupid elementary school check-yes-or-no notes. I don't know why this approach to romance is so damn appealing to me, but it I don't think I could ever not say yes to one of those bastards (unless, of course,
the guy was a bastard... and then the cards change). Of course, sadly, I'm at an age now that doesn't really think that kind of gesture is appropriate. Instead, we just bump and grind and have casual sex with people we have no emotional attachments to. Adulthood, everyone! 

Number two is really for my inner fatass... also, I kind of stole this from The Princess Diaries, so shoot me. Anyway, a guy orders me a pizza (preferably cheese because who doesn't like cheese? Oh, right. Lactose intolerant bitches!) and then has the pizza place write out "Will you... [insert desired action here]?" in Sour Patch Kids on top. I know, it sounds totally gross, but I would eat the Sour Patch Kids before eating the pizza... maybe. Okay, I'd totally try them together, but who cares?   But, really, who could say no to that? Personally, I can't say no to pizza ever, so that's the best way to win my heart.

-___- Desmond and Daniel = Constants 4ever
Number three is also food related (damn, how have I lost 65 pounds with this much food on my mind?).  Okay, so, the guy gets a custom fortune cookie fortune made and puts it in a fortune cookie (really, Angela? you don't say?) and gives it to me after getting me chinese food. Of course, the fortune says something really cute like "Hey, sexy. Be my constant. Love, Daniel Faraday" or "Eat together, fat alone. jk. Let's be fat together." The LOST references are not optional.

Finally, concert proposals. I have been to way too many concerts where girls get proposed to by their boyfriends on stage or during the show at some point. I want that. That is like the most badass gesture in the book of gestures. If a guy could get, say, Jon Foreman, lead singer of Switchfoot, or another relevant member of a band to be like "Hey, this guy loves you lots. Go out with him/ marry him, okay?" That'd probably have a very high feedback rating. But that's just my opinion.

So, pretty much, my stomach is my heart. But is that really a surprise to anyone? 

February 20, 2013

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.