tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23801989141346355342011-11-01T21:22:55.338-07:00.......but what on Earth for?TNThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01057517871541548639noreply@blogger.comBlogger291100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2380198914134635534.post-47418292173962848792011-06-11T20:58:00.001-07:002011-06-11T20:58:37.867-07:00<div><p>My body has no reason to be feeling anxious. Sure, I had two cups of strong coffee after 5pm...but that's never been a problem before. <br>I don't like it. My torso has that feeling as if I'm about to step towards the edge of a 70 story building roof.<br>Sometimes it would be great if my nerves would act normally. </p></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2380198914134635534-4741829217396284879?l=calculuv.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>TNThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01057517871541548639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2380198914134635534.post-56722096074323886462011-06-09T13:02:00.001-07:002011-06-09T13:02:09.619-07:00<div><p>I don't quite grasp the concept. It feels terrible, and it continues to do so the following day. Yet, they say if you keep going, it gets better. Addicting even! <br>I say all those people are crazy. But the ever growing pudge on my belly is demanding I join the crazy crowd and become another addict. </p><p>I don't even have anything suitable to wear that requires sweating in.</p></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2380198914134635534-5672209607432388646?l=calculuv.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>TNThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01057517871541548639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2380198914134635534.post-63619789022053805782011-06-06T15:28:00.000-07:002011-06-06T15:36:51.496-07:00It's been nearly 3 months of living here in the City of Angels. I go through phases of loving it with my whole heart, to secretly freaking out and wondering why I was so crazy to move here.<div><br /></div><div>I'm running on empty. I had a job, but it was slowly sucking my soul out, so I quit. Perhaps I really am crazy. To think that jobs come by so easily is probably the spoiled Texas in me. For some reason, there was always a job lurking around the corner in that state. Here, I'm finding it quite the opposite... Then again, I am very picky. And wanting to break into the film industry is more than a pipe dream.</div><div><br /></div><div>Which is why I called in a favor from a friend to help me become employed again. He is taking my resume, jazzing it up, and handing it off to some people he knows. Lawd I hope that something comes up from this help. Because if not, I may have to resort to jobs that suck my soul out. And I'm not so sure how well that will work out.</div><div><br /></div><div>Something tells me I need to let go of my pride. Or conjure up more motivation and determination.</div><div><br /></div><div>Laziness is creeping into my life more. </div><div><br /></div><div>So if the habit of blaming the most peculiar things for my problems. </div><div><br /></div><div>Excuse me, I need to go scream.</div><div>And then figure this out.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2380198914134635534-6361978902205380578?l=calculuv.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>TNThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01057517871541548639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2380198914134635534.post-78057035695409325942011-03-09T23:36:00.000-08:002011-03-09T23:39:42.646-08:00It's officially 10 days until I leave for La La Land.<div><br /></div><div>Where did this month go already? For that matter, where did October-February go???</div><div><br /></div><div>My lovely cushy "it's months away" moving date has pushed up to mere days... and soon, mere moments. </div><div><br /></div><div>Let's hope I'm ready for this because I'm literally barreling down into responsibility and being almost cut off from all parental security.</div><div><br /></div><div>Hello Broke-Angeles. </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2380198914134635534-7805703569540932594?l=calculuv.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>TNThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01057517871541548639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2380198914134635534.post-62527719389907236002011-02-24T17:14:00.000-08:002011-02-24T17:18:19.449-08:00As it turns out, flying standby has become less fashionable than I had imagined. Being tricked from the overly smooth and simple flight from Houston->LA is bothering my mind so much, I have gone to such lengths as spending excessive amounts on airport alcohol.<div><br /></div><div>As of now, me and my friend have been declined from a full flight, quickly shoved onto another, only to be stranded in El Paso for a couple of hours. Fingers are crossed for the next flight to have two small seats available. Yet a part of me wonders if it would have been smart to pack one more pair of comfy pants for an airport sleepover.</div><div><br /></div><div>If only I had the ability to stick my thumb out and let a plane slow down and pick us up. </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2380198914134635534-6252771938990723600?l=calculuv.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>TNThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01057517871541548639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2380198914134635534.post-46036223607360558152011-02-13T23:49:00.000-08:002011-02-13T23:52:23.434-08:00It's proving to be a bit harder to keep pretending that I am a vindictive miserable person. But I honestly feel that if he hates who I am now, it'll be so much easier for him to move on. And for me to finally let go.<div><br /></div><div>That is... I think I want to let go. </div><div><br /></div><div>This is what happens when I watch hours and hours of soap opera television late into the night. Thank you Desperate Housewives for making me reconsider everything.</div><div><br /></div><div>Even if I did come clean about what I was doing....I don't think he would believe me. So, it's for the best.</div><div><br /></div><div>Right?</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2380198914134635534-4603622360736055815?l=calculuv.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>TNThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01057517871541548639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2380198914134635534.post-26785187163235507582011-01-24T13:07:00.001-08:002011-01-24T13:07:23.787-08:00I feel like I have been a complete lazy bum the past few months. It's somehow like my body doesn't want to do jack shit unless I have work, or some other real responsibility like school... I hope that it learns that moving in two months doesn't mean it can feel this way anymore. I've got shit to do! And waking up feeling like I've worked out (when I never do), or like I haven't even slept (though I just clocked in 9 hours) is going to end.. soon. <br/> <br/> I hope. <div style='clear: both; text-align: center; font-size: xx-small;'>Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.5</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2380198914134635534-2678518716323550758?l=calculuv.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>TNThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01057517871541548639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2380198914134635534.post-80504709574422388692011-01-22T08:30:00.001-08:002011-01-22T08:30:13.833-08:00I'm pretty sure I can't convince myself that what I'm telling others is true. Moving to CA to work in film? Yeah, definitely dream career. But it's not really the bulk reason I'm moving. I need a change. A big one. And LA is a good cover. Sure, a rather expensive cover, but I've always wanted to live there anyway. Might as well do it now, while I'm young and mostly responsibility free. Hey, if it doesn't work out, I can blame it on my early 20s freedom phase, and go back to school. <div style='clear: both; text-align: center; font-size: xx-small;'>Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.5</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2380198914134635534-8050470957442238869?l=calculuv.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>TNThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01057517871541548639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2380198914134635534.post-27027249869470400592011-01-22T01:15:00.001-08:002011-01-22T01:15:21.464-08:00I make had decisions when I'm drunk and horny........but then again, who doesn't!!! <div style='clear: both; text-align: center; font-size: xx-small;'>Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.5</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2380198914134635534-2702724986947040059?l=calculuv.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>TNThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01057517871541548639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2380198914134635534.post-8080760667540021442011-01-21T02:15:00.001-08:002011-01-21T02:15:26.587-08:00How is it that all my compelling and motivating thoughts happen between 3 and 6 am, where I can't do anything about them. Especially when it's so close to my bed time. <br/> <br/> Things that have been in my mind: watching the sunrise in various places (Cali beach, mntns, rooftop), bike riding, writing a song, new wardrobe, organizing everything, huge garage sale, making multiple to do lists (music to listen to, movies to watch, places to go, ultimate bucket list), tanning, hair color, start cleaning business, make up portfolio, collecting maps of places I want to live in, a plethora of arts and crafts projects (home decor, gifts, clothes), thank you notes just to make people feel good, dancing. <div style='clear: both; text-align: center; font-size: xx-small;'>Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.5</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2380198914134635534-808076066754002144?l=calculuv.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>TNThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01057517871541548639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2380198914134635534.post-21518625970993354312011-01-18T12:27:00.001-08:002011-01-18T12:27:40.965-08:00Actually woke up before noon today. Haven't done a thing since, except make my bed and eat some mini muffins.... what the what.<div style='clear: both; text-align: center; font-size: xx-small;'>Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.5</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2380198914134635534-2151862597099335431?l=calculuv.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>TNThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01057517871541548639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2380198914134635534.post-46147644477415361112011-01-17T15:17:00.001-08:002011-01-17T15:17:19.497-08:00<p><a href='http://lh3.ggpht.com/_gTK9Osq-2ak/TTTN_OeS77I/AAAAAAAAAEc/55Leup31tdY/shot_1294908761560.jpg'><img src='http://lh3.ggpht.com/_gTK9Osq-2ak/TTTN_OeS77I/AAAAAAAAAEc/55Leup31tdY/s400/shot_1294908761560.jpg' /></a></p>Gotta love pointless technology. <div style='clear: both; text-align: center; font-size: xx-small;'>Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.5</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2380198914134635534-4614764447741536111?l=calculuv.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>TNThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01057517871541548639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2380198914134635534.post-21662687743710338392011-01-17T13:29:00.001-08:002011-01-17T13:29:53.569-08:00Gross. Bring back my cold and rainy/cloudy weather! <div style='clear: both; text-align: center; font-size: xx-small;'>Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.5</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2380198914134635534-2166268774371033839?l=calculuv.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>TNThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01057517871541548639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2380198914134635534.post-30576722629749172682011-01-17T00:41:00.001-08:002011-01-17T00:41:06.982-08:00I hope he Google's himself, and realizes that I am a much better mate for him than that girlfriend who got him a walk with wolves. <br/> <br/> ....you know, because my witty posts obviously show multiple character traits that make us a match. <div style='clear: both; text-align: center; font-size: xx-small;'>Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.5</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2380198914134635534-3057672262974917268?l=calculuv.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>TNThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01057517871541548639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2380198914134635534.post-77097064291580674752011-01-16T19:53:00.001-08:002011-01-16T19:53:13.245-08:00Not too bad. But it's no Oscars. <div style='clear: both; text-align: center; font-size: xx-small;'>Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.5</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2380198914134635534-7709706429158067475?l=calculuv.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>TNThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01057517871541548639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2380198914134635534.post-91609595605760469282011-01-14T02:04:00.001-08:002011-01-14T02:04:48.167-08:00I'm finishing watching the last hour of Braveheart... I watched this when I was a kid, and honestly barely remember any of it. But the good news is, my love for film make up is alive again! Silly me for spending a few days doubting myself for planning the life changing move to Los Angeles. (Which I keep spelling angelos...sigh, I'll probably be kicked out in a week for that and saying "y'all" too often). <br/> <br/> Damn...I think I need to watch some special features on 13 Ghosts and pump myself up again about this whole career thing. <div style='clear: both; text-align: center; font-size: xx-small;'>Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.5</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2380198914134635534-9160959560576046928?l=calculuv.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>TNThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01057517871541548639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2380198914134635534.post-30574727776400186612011-01-13T13:47:00.001-08:002011-01-13T13:47:02.117-08:00I am currently sitting in a long line at Starbucks. It's not moving. I already ordered my coffee though. I probably won't get it for another 20min. And yet, I have no complaints. It's about 40° outside. In Texas. The inside of my warm car is the prime choice. As opposed to getting out and walking thru the cold, waiting in a semi-cold room, and walking back thru the cold to my car, where it will take the heater a good 8min to heat up....as I pull into my driveway. <br/> <br/> Comfort ftw. <div style='clear: both; text-align: center; font-size: xx-small;'>Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.5</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2380198914134635534-3057472777640018661?l=calculuv.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>TNThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01057517871541548639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2380198914134635534.post-39460279447430192532011-01-13T01:22:00.001-08:002011-01-13T01:22:01.672-08:00You know what... I don't care what the majority of people say. I fucking love Battlefield Earth. John Travolta can do no wrong in my book. <div style='clear: both; text-align: center; font-size: xx-small;'>Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.5</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2380198914134635534-3946027944743019253?l=calculuv.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>TNThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01057517871541548639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2380198914134635534.post-78574222989734351182011-01-12T22:44:00.001-08:002011-01-12T22:44:11.196-08:00Playing Mario 64 lifts my heart in ways that no other game console can. <br/> <br/> Now time to join the elite and finally see Sunshine. ....I know! I know! It only took me nearly four years to catch up. <div style='clear: both; text-align: center; font-size: xx-small;'>Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.5</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2380198914134635534-7857422298973435118?l=calculuv.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>TNThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01057517871541548639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2380198914134635534.post-77111367218501785912011-01-12T12:59:00.001-08:002011-01-12T12:59:50.041-08:00I seriously can't listen to Madonna's Vogue without thinking of Sue from Glee.... lovely. <div style='clear: both; text-align: center; font-size: xx-small;'>Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.5</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2380198914134635534-7711136721850178591?l=calculuv.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>TNThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01057517871541548639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2380198914134635534.post-74612464277927219082011-01-11T18:40:00.001-08:002011-01-11T18:40:58.906-08:00This. Just. Happened. <div style='clear: both; text-align: center; font-size: xx-small;'>Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.5</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2380198914134635534-7461246427792721908?l=calculuv.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>TNThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01057517871541548639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2380198914134635534.post-8543059205846034262011-01-11T18:27:00.000-08:002011-01-11T18:33:46.586-08:00Boy am I absolutely terrible at having a blog or what? Maybe because it's just so much more high maintenance than say, Twitter. I mean, first off you must be around a physical computer. I don't care how smart the phones are getting, it's just ridiculous having to type an entire post via small ass touch screen. Second, you have to have more than a couple sentences of actual thought. And something that others actually want to read, nonetheless! I'm getting annoyed just thinking about it. I mean, there's a reason I'm a cat person (not just because they are better, mind you). They are one of the most low maintenance pets you can have.<div><br /></div><div>I think I will see if my smart phone's market has a blogger app. Maybe I can use it for the pointless thoughts I have that don't seem witty enough for Facebook, or semi-witty and celeb stalking enough for Twitter.</div><div><br /></div><div>......and downloading Blogger app. FANTASTIC.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2380198914134635534-854305920584603426?l=calculuv.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>TNThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01057517871541548639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2380198914134635534.post-18461372582663679762010-04-08T14:28:00.000-07:002010-04-08T14:40:03.048-07:00I did not forget about this blog, nor have I not spent various days with the "New Post" page open and cursor blinking... I simply have no relevant news to the ongoings of that wonderful little thing in life we call "community college". (and I am going to completely blame this on NBC stealing my idea, and coming up with a fantastic show...even though I started this blog after the fact).<div><br /></div><div>Point is! Because I now choose to spend as little time as possible on campus, and the fact that I am taking bowling for a PE credit, I will most likely abandon my hopeful branded blog on the subject of my education, and move it more towards that of pointless complaining (slash uninteresting details of my social life). Thanks to Ellen DeGeneres being on American Idol this year, I will have more juicy things to talk about.</div><div><br /></div><div>So here's to the end of the handful of months hiatus. I raise my extra spicy bloody mary to you in a cheers! </div><div><br /></div><div>Also, Orianthe (or however she wishes to spell that obviously made up name) is a terrible addition to the musical world. She got famous off of the Michael Jackson tour/death. What is she doing now? Singing and making her own album. What did she get famous for? Her guitar playing skills. Her vocals live make my ears hurt, and her mundane lyrics, bridges, and overall music make me vomit a little in my mouth. Literally. I keep water in the car just in case her song accidentally has time to play before I can change the station. </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2380198914134635534-1846137258266367976?l=calculuv.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>TNThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01057517871541548639noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2380198914134635534.post-1153110461338625612009-12-08T09:09:00.000-08:002009-12-08T09:17:20.738-08:00Finals week. Which means everyone is finally learning all the things they needed to be studying for the past 10 weeks. Which also means the library is now prime reality for studying. And it also assures that stress, anger, frustration, and sometimes apathy are at an all time high.<div><br /></div><div>Needless to say, this place is making me racist. Libraries are made for studying, nap times, pointless hook ups in the upstairs restroom, and hushed conversations. Not for some chola spouting out dirty spanish words to her only white male friend using an outside voice. </div><div><br /></div><div>And of course, no one wants to tell her to stfu. We all use the passive aggressive annoyed huffing sighs, dark stares, and the occasional throat clearing. But obviously this B is too dumb to get the hint. Or maybe a little too self centered to care that her nasal tones are ruining the last precious moments we have to study before our final. </div><div><br /></div><div>No, chica, we do not care that you didn't get the easy math class that filled up too soon, and now you're stuck in Precal. Nor do we care that you grew up bilingual. We also don't care for the cliche penciled in eyebrows. Please excuse your sad self and hideous laugh from the premises.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Don't even get me started on the blaring rap music coming from the head phones of Mr. P Diddy across the room.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Give me another coffee. </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2380198914134635534-115311046133862561?l=calculuv.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>TNThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01057517871541548639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2380198914134635534.post-1363634565093974802009-11-21T18:42:00.000-08:002009-11-21T18:50:01.179-08:00I've decided that being in a community college gives me the false security that I can put off all work and studying until the last 5 minutes before something is due. Because I didn't feel this intense sense of procrastination at a university.<div><br /></div><div>Maybe it's because most professor's will give you an extension for next May. Or maybe it's because the work is based on a high school level (because we all know that community college is senior year, part deux). </div><div><br /></div><div>No matter what trifle ideas I reason with, the fact remains that I will go out and drink all night, work all day tomorrow, and then try and squeeze in 3 subjects before midnight on Sunday.</div><div><br /></div><div>Who knows... I could just be preaching to the choir. If so, I raise my red plastic cup full of Bud Light to you as you re-arrange your cups into a T-shape, please.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2380198914134635534-136363456509397480?l=calculuv.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>TNThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01057517871541548639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2380198914134635534.post-29108749968527357592009-11-17T18:38:00.000-08:002009-11-17T18:46:02.642-08:00As it turns out, it's very easy to bullshit your way through an English class when talking about the material. It's even easier when your professor drones on and goes off on hilarious tangents so you can glance at the introduction and whatever piece was assigned. This makes for optimum bullshit material, especially when you use vague words to generalize the sentence you just eyed. Hellloooo B almost A!<div><br /></div><div>I got a free meal today. I'm not sure what they were promoting, because no one ever said, and there were no signs. But it was a decent BBQ sandwich with four different side choices. Not to mention the cotton candy dessert and the single white guy DJ at the opposite end of the square playing oh so hip rap songs. (with a few Michael Jackson songs mixed in to make him seem cultured... oh and that one Spice Girls song). But at the end of the meal, I chalked it up to the college's way of saying "Sorry about all of... you know. Thanks for wasting your time and spending money to go here." And you know what, it almost worked. If it hadn't been for the stereotypes and stupid people surrounding the event, I would have been sold on their calorie filled apology.</div><div><br /></div><div>Side note, and not at all related to the atmosphere of my community college: I realized that if a man smells like BBQ sauce, I would totally jump on that. mmmmtasty.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2380198914134635534-2910874996852735759?l=calculuv.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>TNThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01057517871541548639noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2380198914134635534.post-32992180748017176882009-11-03T08:06:00.001-08:002009-11-03T08:32:57.490-08:00<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I have been slacking on this blog. Probably because I've been wasting my time with celebrating the fact that I can legally drink. You know, the yoozh. (That's slang for usual, but spelt out phonetically because I'm assuming you aren't as hip as I am and probably wouldn't know the phrase if I just used "us").</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">So far, it seems nearly all of my stories about the lovely scene of community college might come from my early Brit Lit class. And of course it's all credited to the fact that my professor makes the best jokes (whether they may be funny or lame).</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">What has happened in the past month? Let me think.....</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Oh! Well there's the fact that the first paper I've had to write in over a year was due a few weeks ago, for which I ended up writing it the night before in 30 minutes (3 pages, MLA format, on Frankenstein, not too hard...right?). HOWEVER! I end up missing the class after the paper is due, the very same class that the professor decides to hand them back and give us more time to review and fix anything. Now... I know my paper isn't the best (I thought I would have been lucky to get a B), but because of my prime education in high school (which I am now realizing was actually better than most since I am surrounded by dumb asses) I also know it can't be so bad that I would need another few days to review and turn it in again. But nevertheless, the rest of the class seemed relieved. Makes my heart hurt to know that 3 pages was just too much for a handful of college students. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I also cranked out a poorly written (or so I thought) film critique for my internet Intro to Motion Picture class. She sends it back with "Well thought out and detailed writing, it shows you really put some effort into this. A." .... If my shitty review made her think this, then I can't even fathom what others were writing. ... maybe "The lighting was awesome. Edward Norton's ass was hot. This movie was totes mcgoats brill." I'm almost considering teaching at a community college later out of plain curiosity, but then again I don't want thoughts of suicide or homicide creeping in, so maybe not the best idea.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Internet classes are the easiest ways to get an A, I think. (Doesn't really apply when you take science classes though, like math or physics). But for my movie class, it seems I can turn in a review or write in the discussion boards a week or so after the assignment is due, and still make an A. Doesn't seem fair, but hey, my GPA needs the bump. And I guess community college is truly the second high school where deadlines are more of a suggestion. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I wish I had more interesting things to write to you dear reader(s?). But alas, a month hiatus and I already forgot the miniscule boring gossip from this quaint campus. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I shall leave you with a daily quote from my Brit Lit professor and a few responses of the people in my online movie class (just so you can see the...effort they put into it).</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">"Try and find the lines you think I would think would be racist." -Prof.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">"</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I really liked the movie i love nicolas cage i think he is a very versitile actor and did a great job. I liked how the movie wasn't to fast paced so i could keep up but it wasnt to slow were i lost interest." -a response for a critical analysis of Adaptation.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">"</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:georgia;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I'm going to have to say I was not too impressed with the movie. I really didn't like that there were so many things going on at once. I was really confused for the first hour of the movie. The acting was good though." -another response for Adaptation.</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Back to the daily grind.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">btdubs, Got an A on the Frankenstein paper.... whatthe-</span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2380198914134635534-3299218074801717688?l=calculuv.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>TNThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01057517871541548639noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2380198914134635534.post-9972384818087465942009-09-24T19:38:00.000-07:002009-09-24T19:56:07.265-07:00Well well well... Another wonderful day in the world of community college.<div><br /></div><div>I honestly don't think I would get up for my 8AM class if my professor wasn't so awkwardly hilarious. My favorite quote of his today:</div><div><br /></div><div>"You're a grave robber, so go ahead and rob me something hot!"</div><div><br /></div><div>I promise he's actually very intellectual... but his sweet attempts at making a joke (and then carrying it on for way too long) are just a little below the par. Such as his attempt to make a joke about how people don't want to know the meaning of a poem via hippy lingo.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>There was this guy in the library today who sat down in a row of chairs next to me and my friend Jon for quite some time... Now, normally this would not merit a mention. However, his continuous walking past the table the hour after that is. There isn't much on the second story of the library other than books, some tables, bathrooms, and about 3 private study rooms. We were right by the stairs to the first floor. If I am mistaken, it shouldn't take an hour to find a book.... but it should to keep looking at people who are sitting down at a table.</div><div><br /></div><div>Beginner French. By the title, you would assume that it would be easy, and if you study even just a little bit, and listen to the teacher, you should be able to catch on a little bit, yes?</div><div>No, you are wrong. (Unless you are a genius like me, then yes you catch on quite well).</div><div>This spanish girl that sits behind me probably fails at everything in her life. Not only is she on Myspace or Facebook for half the class, but when called upon to answer a simple question in French (for instance, a response to the question "Do you like to eat at a restaurant"... which the response is literally only 5 words long) she is silent for a good minute, spouts out some french words that are either nonsensical or just repeating what he said without really answering. </div><div>Now, I am no expert in French. I am just a beginner. But I can at least deduct enough from the lesson the professor is explaining to form a very simple sentence. </div><div><br /></div><div>If you aren't willing to put in a little effort into a class, whether it be a language, or a science, please... just leave! Obviously it's a waste of time for you and the professor... but mostly, it's just really annoying.</div><div><br /></div><div>An example that my friend Jon gave me from his history class is a prime example of the idiots that somehow thing college was the next logical step in their life (when really they should have been repeating high school or applying to a fast food restaurant):</div><div><br /></div><div>(this is a very generalized statement of what happened)</div><div>Prof: While working over in China, I ate so much of their food, I got sick of it. Now I can't eat it at all. Now when my wife makes it or orders it, I always say something, and then joke about how they put cats in it. As soon as she takes a bite I say "meow!" But seriously, it grosses me out now.... Just like if, let's say... you (points to a girl in the class) were to work at an ice cream shop for so long. You'd be sick of it right?</div><div>Girl: Oh my gosh! They puts cats in ice cream!</div><div>Jon: ..... wow. That's embarrassing.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>This, ladies and gents, is what you run into at a community college. </div><div>Yes, there are smart people roaming about on campus... but they are rare and few and far in between. So before you rush to fill out an application, maybe you should spend another day or so looking for scholarships for that more upscale university down the street.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2380198914134635534-997238481808746594?l=calculuv.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>TNThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01057517871541548639noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2380198914134635534.post-79399447975507641032009-09-23T10:30:00.001-07:002009-09-23T10:45:20.556-07:00Every one has started a blog today. And when I say today, I mean from a few years ago to literally 5 minutes ago (mine). <div><br /></div><div>Now, I'm going to be brutally honest, I have nothing of great importance to say, I'm not that funny, and I really am only doing this because on my days off I find that I watch way to much TV and play on Facebook more than the average person. And it seemed that the only next logical step was to get a blog.</div><div><br /></div><div>Now, let's touch on the most interesting and somewhat exciting part of my life: Community college. Oh yes, the most prestigious of all the colleges around. Not to mention the brightest minds on the planet!</div><div><br /></div><div>So far, being back at school for the past month has stacked up quite a few noteworthy stories.</div><div><br /></div><div>1: The random rock wall on the first day of classes complete with popular rap songs to climb to.</div><div>2: A radio DJ (hair straight from the 80s, complete with mullet and bleach blonde highlights) spinning to all the ethnic (black, obviously) crowd dancing, having hula hoop contests with a prize of a fuzzy pink hat, and trying to sound cool by saying "Right on!".</div><div>3: The local college choir (composed of 15ish people) singing America related songs on Constitution Day and giving out sno cones for their fundraiser. I am still trying to figure out how these two things make sense together.</div><div>4: A girl in the library saying with all honesty and worry that "The powerpoint in this project will be the hardest thing." (I can't make this sh*t up.)</div><div><br /></div><div>I can't wait to share more of the adventures of my amazing time at this community college.</div><div><br /></div><div>Please, try to contain your jealousy.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2380198914134635534-7939944797550764103?l=calculuv.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>TNThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01057517871541548639noreply@blogger.com0