if you weren't real i'd make you up

my silly computer still won't turn on so i'm using a super slow surrogate. i also think i just alliterated. swell.
after a considerably long day filled with everything but food, mutti and i had dinner at uno's. there was a hottie musician playing cover songs from the eagles to britney spears and he managed to get hotel california stuck in my head. all i want to do now is jam out to everything and anything and i can't because my computer has decided to hibernate for the past 2 weeks. i know i could turn on the radio, or dig up my cd player, but it's not the same. maybe i should crawl out of my media-challenged cave and get an ipod-esque electronic thing. actually, my cell phone moonlights as an mp3 player, but the secret of how is something i have yet to figure out. effing technology. i'm supposed to be saving dollars for a new camera anyway, the music bit can wait. after all, you can't scrap songs and i have made a semi-promise to my scrapnerd sister to be scraptasticly scissor-happy with her at some point this summer. damn i dig the letter S. i never realized how much until right about now.
i've been reading straight talking off and on for the past few months and i am almost done. i really don't want to be done though. once i finish, i have to find another book that interests me enough to read cover to cover and that can be quite the task. what i need to do is start reading more non-fiction books that will tell me something of higher value that i can maybe use while watching jeopardy or something, instead of books with cheetah-print covers about socialites and shopping sprees. i wonder if plum sykes has come out with a sequel to bergdorf blondes... and i will say, even at the risk of sounding like an airhead, that that book was seriously life-changing. british authors create the raddest of the rad socialite novels, no doubt.

fat-skinny-fat girl

so is it skinny fat girl, or fat skinny girl, and who decides? i guess a skinny fat girl is a fatty that's a bit more toned and solid, and a fat skinny girl is like a size 2 who jiggles a bit too much. according to that, i'm a fat skinny-ish girl, since i haven't spent a day in my life being scrawny-skinny, in spite of maxing out at a size 4. and by maxing out i mean maxing out.. if a size 3 doesn't fit me, i'll be damned if i go up any higher these days. i'm much too short for all that. i've decided i'm more like a fat-average girl, because skinny isn't quite on the mark and fat is beyond insulting. the point is i weighed myself today after pigging out (always a fab idea?) and i was at 115.7 pounds. clearly not as bad as i thought or as it could have been, but in spite of a number, i seem to be a jiggly mess who still needs to drop 10-ish pounds and throw on some muscle. now, if i were 5'7'' and 115ish lbs, i would be damn hott, and maybe a tad scary, but seeing as how i am 5'4'' and flat-boobed, i have no excuse for the jiggle. i wonder why all the weight won't just go upwards and be done with it. maybe if i stand on my head for a few it will shift off my ass and i'll finally develop cleavage at age 20.9. yea right. the fab part is i still fit my high school jeans, so i know i didn't balloon on the freshman 15 or anything. i have maybe gained 3-5 pounds in the past 3 years, which really isn't so bad compared to all the girls who went to college scrawny and came back as footballers. i probably shouldn't talk about that considering they could totally wreck my ass, but then again, it's not my fault they went back for thirds at the dining hall.
i pinkie-promised myself i would be at 108 by the time school starts again. i'm not necessarily fat or anything, but rumor has it that even lettuce makes you a cow once you turn 22 and i absolutely refuse to be a cow at any age. the end.

you know what really grinds my gears..

the fact that giselle bundchen is hanging up her angel wings. super bummed. however, the girl on the new angels commercial is beyond-beyond adorable. i suppose i will get over it. i still remember when tyra banks was in victoria's secret and i absolutely loved her and her massive forehead, for obvious reasons, duh. those were the days of big-butt underwear that came up to your belly button. i'm not saying i ever wore those, but i was aware of their existence. blegh, panty lines are seriously awful. but i've decided that seeing a woman's giant panties hanging out of her giant-but still not giant enough for her massive ass- jeans, is much more ghastly a sight. especially when they are white and wrinkled and non-designer. i know, i'm a jackass, but if i have to see your damn crinkly underpants, at least have the decency to put on some calvin kleins.
so it's almost 2 am and i'm waiting for my cat to get home. how ridiculous. i'm pissed, actually. she's not supposed to play outside in the first place, let alone at 2 am. i'm done going outside to look for her since i'm absolutely terrified of the dark. the fatty windows in the living room are bad enough. i swear they have given me nightmares since i was little. i kept dreaming charlie chaplin would burst through the window and chase me around. his little hat bugs me. anyways, i guess all i can do is leave food out and wait until tomorrow morning.
so i got called old yesterday. seriously, me, and my baby cheeks, got called old. by an effing "i just turned 19" year old, nonetheless. i'm about to start flipping out if someone calls me ma'am anytime soon. i can't possibly be that old... i fell up the escalator leaving work today and managed not to break an arm or anything. it's proof that i still have the agility of a teenager. ha.
blegh, speaking of old, this girl at work told me she was married....
my instant reaction: "oh but you look so young!"
her: "i'm twenty"
me: "oh... uhhmm me too..?"
::::insert awkward silence here::::

dammit whats with people.

champagne is for celebrating

finally done with finals! i've survived another semester of college without getting fat, arrested, knocked up, or marrying the navy. i only say that because i saw a pregnant girl in one of my classes today and it made my insides turn. i swear i saw her every class and didn't realize she was preggers until exam day. pretty weird. this one chick actually brought her baby to theater class one semester.. it was like show and tell baby-day all of a sudden. whatever. good for them, but babies freak me out. and so do girls who marry the navy at 19 and then have babies. i swear it's like a double-negative. blegh. i shouldn't even go there. this navy boy kept trying to hit on me at work the other week which i guess wouldn't be such a thing if his name hadn't been "Buddy" and he hadn't been so obviously southern. a navy boy is one thing... and a southern gentlemen is another.. but i'm not down for navy Billy-Bobs and their yee-haw shit.

so anyway, i went all betty crocker after my exam and made an apple pie after my grocery store excursion. i swear i'm such a fatty.. groceries get me excited. the woman at the check-out had a band-aid on her mouth.. i guess thats when you know you're in norfolk. maybe she's like a special nelly fan, i don't know, thats not my area of expertise... but i swear it looked like it was about to fall off and like she didn't even know like it was on her face. kind of like if you go into a neighborhood pool and come out with someone else's band-aid stuck to you in a funny spot. it was like that, but better, i swear.

it's late and i have yet to shower and get pretty for a night out on the town. i'm at the point where i could either get ready or take a nap. i haven't been sleeping for the past few nights, so i know what i should do... but a tuesday night is such a terrible thing to waste. i have an early date with the beach tomorrow... so i guess i'll just see what happens with me going out tonight. cheers.

more ovaltine, please

pushing 5 am on a sunday morning. the quiet reminds me that i should be napping by now, but i'm not, obviously.
i've been behaving super nerd-like lately and not going out and studying a lot in lieu of exams and such, but i decided to be social tonight do the bar thing for a bit. i swear i wasn't planning on drinking, but the bartenders were being beyond lovely and hooking it up with what tasted like delicious drunken dimetapp shots. about 6 of those later, i walked my surprisingly sober ass home and got back to reading. or i've tried to anyway, but i'm super wired, super sober, and super distracted. so the point is, now that i've realized i may have one, a cappuccino, redbull, and liquor combo might possibly be the most fab idea ever or totally wretched.
i think the fact that i got into yet another pointless fight with the boyfriend probably isn't helping the sleepless situation. i swear, shit just escalates... it gets to the point where i'm not even slightly mad about what we started talking about in the first place, but i'm beyond pissed that we're still even talking about it. it's like that expression when you beat the horse or something. i don't know. it's a white-person saying of some sort. and i would never beat a horse, obviously. i'm actually on the verge of giving up meat.

anyways, exams are over in 3 days so i'll be able to go back to sleeping and being in a relatively decent mood soon enough.

i'm going home!

so for the past 6 days i have done nothing but study my ass off for my accounting midterm, and now that i only have two left, i'm feeling rather tired and a bit lazy about studying again. i'm going to do it, but i don't want to. i wonder what life would be like if i wasn't such a dork. probably a whole lot of fun.. but at my own expense.
anyway, i just talked to my sister and she reminded me how badly i need a new job. i suppose i will put that on my to-do list... but where the hell would i work? the idea of working at a restaurant makes me pukey inside since i A) can't stand the smell of food and B) can't stand when i wind up smelling like food. okay, so for the most part, the smell of food isn't so bad, but when it comes to fried food or food with a lot of random condiments, i want to gag. it's like i get fat just smelling it. anyways, i'll look into it.

spring break is almost here and i am super excited! i can't wait to go home.. i haven't been home since right after new years and that was only for a day or two. i absolutely cannot wait! i'm not super stoked about the possibility of driving in snow, but i'm down for playing in it.. i wonder if i could snowboard in my back yard..

bad blogger strikes back.. or again.. or something

after a month-long hiatus, i am back and writing about random shit once again. heres the deal: i fell madly in love with my jordi labanda journal and pushed internet writing away, then i got cold feet about writing "what i really think" in a journal that could easily grow stiletto's and run away. and then, i made a lent-olution to try to write more so i would have something to read later.. seriously, i am very self-centered sometimes. and so now i'm back with not a whole lot to say before my 10 am class except just that. i should probably work on getting dressed since i can't exactly stroll across campus in just my hot pink socks.. although it would be a rather sexy sight. speaking of sexy, i took a quiz on glam.com about what my sexiest quality is, and this is what it said:

Independence:
"Your sexiest quality is that you don’t care if you have one or at least whether your date thinks you do. Individual and strong, you attract others by doing your own thing with confidence. This is especially irresistible to those used to women who are eager to please. As a result, your companions often work overtime to get your approval."

so basically, i'm nobody's lap dog and i'm not a phony trophy either.. obviously.. i can't even manage to brush my hair everyday, let alone wear make-up. have you ever seen some of those girls without their faces on? talk about WOOF!