Tuesday, December 16, 2014

GET OUT MY LIBRARY YOU YUPPIE HIGH SCHOOLERS

Okay, so I'm studying in the library for a final I have on Friday and THERE ARE HIGH SCHOOLERS EVERYWHERE.
They're so easy to spot. Like a whale in the Serengeti.
AND THEIR FACES ARE SO YOUNG AND WRINKLE FREE. PRE-PUBESCENT.

HOW TO SPOT A HIGH SCHOOLER:
1. They travel in packs of at least three
2. The boys are all in khakis, Niki socks, and sperrys (also their shirts are usually tucked in which is weird)
3. The girls are either wearing leggings or plaid skirts (DEAD PRIVATE HIGH SCHOOL GIVEAWAY)
4. All of the above are carrying Starbucks
5. They shoot these weird covert glances around like they feel like they shouldn't be here yet they think they're so cool that they are
6. They walk upright, as if their spirits have not been crushed (this is probably the most notable because the rest of us haven't slept in two days and no longer care whether we live or die)
7. ITS LIKE THEYRE TRYING TO LOOK GOOD AND THATS JUST WRONG (my sweater is covered in Krispy Kreme crumbs and my friend next to me actually slept on the floor under the table for a few minutes)
8. I cannot stress enough that they walk as if the world still makes sense to them

In summation: get out of my library you Starbucks carrying yuppie children and take your happiness and sense of superiority with you.

(THERES ANOTHER ONE. HES WEARING KHAKIS)

UPDATE: They all bought 'Monsters' from the cafe. No one has consumed a Monster since 2010.

UPDATE: They're taking over the cafe area. They've multiplies from 2 to 3 tables. Soon they will have conquered the entire eastern side. I fear I will never see my family again.
It's like a young adult dystopian novel.

Saturday, December 13, 2014

Thoughts of finals week:

It's totally okay to cry a little bit. Or a lot. Everybody cries. In fact, I heard my roommate crying through the wall just last night! Wait. Nope. That was still me.

Deal with it

Okay, so I know I made sort of a promise that I would update more.. and I haven't...
BUT IN MY DEFENSE IT IS DEAD WEEK AND THAT MEANS NEXT WEEK IS FINALS WEEK AND THAT MEANS I DON'T GET TO SLEEP MUCH LESS BLOG.
I'm taking a brief study break to type this for you now, SO BE GRATEFUL.

Okay... what to say...
I actually have some good stories saved up for all of you, but you probably won't get them until Christmas break because I don't have time for that right now.
BUT NEXT FRIDAY I'M DONE.
So be ready...
Okay. This is all I have time for.
Sorry about the hiatus.
Deal with it.

Over.

Sunday, November 9, 2014

RE: My father and the third world

Okay, so apparently dad is a little bit mad that I made him out to be so uptight... so this is my apology/redaction of the cheerio/comfort zone comment. In all reality he did very well in the third world. He even shared his granola bars and made some friends. I'm very proud of him.
Love you dad!

Over.

(This is why people don't share their blog addresses with their parents.) (Mom, please don't be offended by that.)

book rant update

Just a small note for some of you: I'm sort of back to actually writing book rants. A shocking number of college students DON'T READ, which disappoints me greatly. This means that I must resort to yelling my opinions on the internet like every other young person in America. But yeah. I'mma be doing that.

I suck at titles

HEY GUYS

My parents are back. I went home for lunch to see them today and I was met at the door by my father announcing, "HOLA, MI HIJA."
Fabulous.
But he was excited to see me, so that always makes me feel happy.

So, Events of a notable nature:
The nonprofit organization that I work for had its big fundraising luncheon last Wednesday, and wow. Let. Me. Tell you. The nonprofit fundraising circuit IS QUITE A PLACE. SO MANY RICH PEOPLE. WOOOOAAAAH. I met the governor elect THE DAY AFTER he was elected. I felt pretty cool. It was at the new Hilton hotel, the really nice one. We had a hospitality room for the staff to put our stuff and no, I did not have two complimentary danishes.

I had three.

I also consumed two Diet Cokes and put another in my purse for the ride home.

After the event I got to take home NINE PIECES of really good cake afterward.

The hotel even allows dogs! At one point while I was in the lobby waiting for our keynote speaker (who we flew in on a private jet that morning) I saw this relatively young couple with four dogs between them wandering around the lobby and I am now very interested with learning how I can become a part of a young, independently wealthy couple who can hang out in really expensive hotels with our four dogs.

Basically I've decided that I want to marry very rich.
I told my boss this and she told me just keep going to events like that.

Over.

Monday, November 3, 2014

My father and the third world

Okay, so my parents are currently in Nicaragua.
They're on a couple's mission trip through our church and are staying down there for a week. My dad has been freaking out about it because his comfort zone is about the size of the inside of a cheerio.

So I have to housesit all week because even though little brother is 16, dad is freaking out about him being home alone, simply for the sake of freaking out. So I'm commuting. Luckily, they have a lot of food at the house so it's a good incentive. I do a lot of housesitting as it is, so when I asked mom if she was going to pay me my usual rate, she just said, "We pay your tuition. Get over it." Thanks mom.

I went home Friday night to get the lay of the land, you know, any last minute instructions, listen to dad rant about how he's going to contract some disease or that he's never flown over open water before, etc. (I refrained from pointing out that it's not like the plane knows that you're flying over water or land and will choose to crash accordingly.) As all of this was happening I noticed a gallon ziplock bag absolutely stuffed with granola bars sitting on his desk. Four boxes, he told me. When I asked him about it he said, AND I QUOTE, "If necessary, I can sustain 500 calories a day on just granola bars." He seems to think that they won't feed him down there. He told me that he was going to fall face down into a Big Mac when they got back, then he thought for a second and said, "And I don't even LIKE Big Macs." (Apparently we're also having steak next Saturday because it's hard for him to go a whole week without steak.)

(Part of me was a little afraid that they were going to get to Atlanta and he was going to hide in a bathroom until the flight left and then hop one back to Nebraska.) But he did make it onto the plane (he sent me "bye bye" as he boarded) and I was expecting that to be the last of the communication from them for a week. Then, a few hours later, I get a text message from him that says: We are here
I immediately reply: And you have cell service? He shoots back: Yes it is very expensive so you text grandma. Husker score?
Those are where my father's priorities lie.
He ended the conversation with: Goodnight. America is great. Third world not so much.
Yesterday I got one that just said: Greetings from the third world.

I can't even handle it.

Over.