The spoke cards are great! If anyone loses them I will be really sad! I spent so many hours on those babies. Seriously, hours.
I am so tired!
I work 31 hours this week and have 12 hours of class!
Also, side note to professors:
I am an adult. If I arrive 6 (not even 7!) minutes late to class, I do not need you to stop class and lecture me about my tardiness. Wanna know why I’m late? I didn’t oversleep. Here’s the deal: my cat escaped my apartment while I was leaving so I had to fetch her. Had she not escaped, I may have arrived at your class on time because it would have saved me five minutes. Once I’d returned her to the dungeon that is my apartment, I arrived rather sweaty on campus EARLY only to find out that I had left my keys at home. Thus, I was unable to lock my bicycle up and obviously had to return home to fetch them and then immediately return to campus. That means that just in order to get to your admittedly cool class, I had to bike over 3 miles in a relatively short period of time. So don’t fucking lecture me about arriving in class on time. I am a responsible adult and I am paying for this class and if I arrive to your class at all, well, that’s better than me not showing up. Also, I arrive early to your class every other time because I am a responsible adult and I enjoy this class.
2011 is not my year.
My boyfriend seems not to have a crush on me anymore. I dunno.
A note to any cute boy friends that I have who seem to not want to be even platonic friends with me and prefer to flirt with girls who are not part of my bike club at parties HOSTED BYMY BIKE CLUB in front of me:
Very tasteless. If you’re going to flirt with girls in front of me and ignore me at parties hosted by my bike club, at least flirt with girls in my bike club (not even me—everyone else is cuter than me and more available than me). Otherwise, fuck you fuck you fuck you.
I must seem so angry to anyone who knows me only on the internet. Paige the anal-retentive ticking time bomb.
“Being born a woman is an awful tragedy… Yes, my consuming desire to mingle with road crews, sailors and soldiers, bar room regulars - to be a part of a scene, anonymous, listening, recording - all is spoiled by the fact that I am a girl, a female always in danger of assault and battery. My consuming interest in men and their lives is often misconstrued as a desire to seduce them, or as an invitation to intimacy. Yet, God, I want to talk to everybody I can as deeply as I can. I want to be able to sleep in an open field, to travel west, to walk freely at night…”—Sylvia Plath, on rape culture (via orcrist)
i went down to the it help center only to have them tell me that the wireless drivers magically disappeared from my laptop, which could have been for ANY fucking reason
so they told me that i could pay a fee of $65/hour to get my laptop fixed which, i do not have that kind of money
or i could go to resnet and have this bullshit resolved for free
then i had to check some homework and my fafsa so i went upstairs to use a computer on the second floor, which happens to be in a giant classroom
right when i logged on, this fucking teacher walks in and says “just so you know this room is reserved for a class in 15 minutes”
i was like fucking wonderful, i have to check 2 things really quickly and i have 15 minutes to do it, piece of cake
TWO MINUTES LATER the fucking teacher walks up to me and tells me that the classroom is reserved and that i have to get out
THE CLASSROOM IS RESERVED IN 15 MINUTES YOU ASSHOLE I HEARD YOU THE FIRST TIME I HAVE TO CHECK TWO THINGS AND MY COMPUTER IS BROKEN AND I DON’T HAVE INTERNET ACCESS ANYWHERE ELSE WILL YOU CHILL THE FUCK OUT FOR 2 MINUTES
this sent me over the edge and i still want to prance in there and punch her in the face kind of
fortunately i found this computer but i swear to fucking god if one more horrible thing happens today i am just going to curl up in fetal position on the floor and cry, i am totally serious
and that includes if when i go to panera to use my gift card, they put feta on my sandwich when i explicitly said NO FUCKING CHEESE
Some creepy sexual harasser from my high school just got married.
To a really pretty young girl.
Somehow, though, I want to believe that he fabricated her Facebook profile, used pictures from a play rehearsal of a wedding scene, and then fabricated the profiles of every old person who commented on the pictures.