You don't know what it's like being male, middle-class and white

Yesterday was a pretty good day. It started off rocky, though. I'd set up my first interview for my first story for Vox. I was to call the guy at 11 and chat about a summer concert series we're having here. I called him, and he wasn't there! I was upset. I had plans and errands to run, but I was afraid he'd call back at an inopportune time, so I sat around watching "Sister, Sister" while stealing glances at my phone. I was like a prepubescent boy. A flamboyant one. It was sad. 

But, finally he called. He told me to come to his office, so i quickly got dressed and dashed out. It was worth the wait. We chatted outside on a bench and at the end, I asked him if I could snag a free ticket to the Ben Folds show so I could interview people. He thought about it for a while (which I hope was a facade, but I also hope he was entranced by my sex appeal) and then he finally said "yes". I knew he would.

The concert was pretty great. It drizzled, but whatever. At my last newspaper gig, the demographic was mostly college kids, so that's who I interviewed. But this paper is for the whole community, so I scoped out that oldest people I could find. I looked like a major creeper, walking around, staring at people and muttering, "not old enough", "too old", "too creepy", "weird hair", "very sexy", and the like to myself. Fortunately I got great quotes and I was the first to turn in my article.

I did go to the show solo, but I don't care. I'm not self-conscious about things like that. It was a good time. He played most of the classics that I enjoy.

Today, I started working on a new story and it is tough! I can't find any sources and it's supposed to be like on a page of its own (presumably). I hope I can coerce someone into chatting.

I also went clothes shopping today so that I could get professional(ish) clothes. I got a sports bra so that I can exercise comfortably, and when I checked myself out in the mirror, I swear that I've never seen my boobs look so small. It was a weird experience, one that I didn't like. After I tried it on, I got re-dressed and left the dressing room. But something was wrong, I felt more free than I usually do, and I'm a fairly uninhibited person. I was almost to the checkout line when I realized what it was- I'd forgotten to put my own bra back on! I was hanging free. Awkward. Fortunately no one was in my dressing room when I went back to get it. Is that still a weird version of The Walk of Shame?

I'm excited, after all.

As it turns out, I think this summer will be fun. I got my first assignment for Vox. It's a preview for Summer Fest, which starts tomorrow but goes throughout the summer. A Ben Folds concert kicks it off and I'm working on snagging a press pass for it. I've seen him twice and it'd be nice to see him again.

Today Nathan, Catherine and I had dinner at Noodles and it was tasty. Afterwards we snagged some ice cream. During that, I discovered that Catherine didn't get to participate in the tradition of walking away from the columns when she graduated. Nate and I couldn't stand for that, so we walked over to the quad and cheered her on as she passed through. Nathan cheered very raucously for her. It was wonderful. I was both proud and sentimental.

Afterwards, we went to the top of a parking garage and flew a kite and chilled. Nathan rapped Ludacris' "Fantasy" without any background music. He knew all the words. It was quite impressive.

After that we went to Wal-Mart where we bounced some balls and looked at vibrating condoms. It was wonderful.

Being in the Vox office was fun. I feel official. It turns out that I know a few people who are working there and I made a new friend, so it's a good start. We've decided we're going to party together and I am stoked.

This summer seems promising.

Bed-hopping is inherited

I've decided to write a quick and quirky blog to balance out my previous post.

Last night I couldn't fall asleep. Try as I might, I just couldn't shut my brain off. So at like 11, I went into my mom's room and said, "mom, will you please come sleep with me? It's my last night." To which she responded, "sure, hop in," as she patted the empty space next to her.

Perhaps a polite person would have.

"No, I said you come to my room. Now, please."

"No Jess, i don't like your bed."

"But Mom, I'm your favorite and it's my last night, don't you want to spend it with me? Just tell me a story or lay there 'till I fall asleep or something, please?"

"Um, nope. We can do that here."

She was giving me a nice offer. All I had to do was grab my pillows and hop in. But I couldn't. I don't like sleeping in other people's beds. Sure, I'll hang out in other beds, but no sleeping. I need my pillows and my blanket and everything to be the way I want it. Other people can sleep in my bed though, maybe, depending on who said person is.  Apparently my mom's the same way too. She's had many a boyfriend sneak out in the morning. 

If I can hop in my car and go to my bed, rather than sleep in someone else's, I probably will. Of course I don't mind it if I'm on vacation, though. Anyway, I was mad at my mom's stubbornness. I even pouted, but she is immune to my sad face. So I went to bed alone.

I almost brought Brutus, my new dog, to my bed, but the last time he slept with me he talked in his sleep. He kept growling and shaking. I was afraid he'd wake up and attack me. I got no sleep with him. So I wasn't going down that road again.

I don't think there's anything wrong with wanting to sleep with your mom.

That night, when I finally was about to doze off, I heard thudding, like someone was playing basketball in the front yard. I got pissed as hell. But, then I figured it was Tracy's boyfriend knocking on her window. As i was naked, I didn't get up to investigate.

I figured out that it was being clothed that kept me from sleeping. It was a tough decision to disrobe, as I was afraid that my mom would change her mind and come to my room. Luckily, I know that when her mind is made up, she doesn't change it.

So this morning, when I went to my car, I saw that someone had thrown eggs all over the house. They'd even thrown toilet-paper around. It was a very measly attempt though, really pathetic. They did a horrible job. The last people that attacked our house spray-painted "Tracy loves cock" in the driveway. I told mom to pour bleach on it to erase it, but it really just made the concrete whiter, thus highlighting the graffiti. These eggs paled in comparison.

I did notice that my car was wet and the hose was unraveled. I think they egged my car, felt guilty, and washed it.

When my mom came out she just said "this is sad and embarrassing. What a pathetic attempt. They can't even roll a house right."

Get me out of Columbia

I left BR this morning at 7:30 and arrived here at like 7:00 pm. It was a long drive and it rained most of the way, which was stressful. On top of that, all the radio stations kept talking about dead soldiers. I get that it's Memorial Day and necessary, but listening to it for almost 12 hours does nothing to perk a person up. So that may be why I'm in a funk.

When I pulled onto my street and parked at my building, all I felt was anti-climactic sadness. I don't know what I expected. I guess I thought my heart would flip and I'd burst into song, sort of like what happens when I arrive back in La. But no, I was just filled with despair. When I went into my apt, I realized I'd neglected to clean it before I left, so that also dampened my already low spirits.

I guess I'm afraid that this summer is going to be very boring. I feel that by coming back to Columbia I'm doing nothing with my life, like I'm on pause. But that's ridiculous, of course, since I'm going to COLLEGE at the #1 journalism school in the country; I got the beat I wanted (a magazine); I have a great internship with a top-rated literary journal; the strong majority of my friends will be in town too.

Really, I should be happy,  I should be ecstatic. Things seem to be working out for me. But, I just can't see it that way at the moment. I feel like I have unfinished business back in Baton Rouge that I should be attending to. I had a great final weekend there. A fun party with my friends, then a housewarming party, then a shopping trip, and a lot of quality time spent with my mom. So I should be happy that I left on a good note.

But I'm not like that. I'd rather leave on a bad note, so no one will miss me. I guess that's part of my narcissism (assuming my absence will devastate those who've ever come into contact with me). Normally, during my last few days, I subconsciously pick fights with my family, so that by the time I have to leave, they're ready for me to be gone. My dad says that's ridiculous and rude. He'd rather remember me as happy and jokey and whatever- not a mean douchebag. I can see his point.

But this time there was no fighting, it was a great goodbye. It all happened so fast. I threw my bags in the car, opened the car door, turned to say "bye" to my mom, and  as I was about to start crying it started pouring rain real hard, so my mom gave me a quick wave and ran inside, so as not to get soaked. This kept the sentimentality of the situation to a bare minimum, so I didn't cry, and this is a first. It was my sort of goodbye. I should be happy.

This is also the first summer that I'm not spending in Philly. I should be with my dad, working at WaWa, hanging with my Yankee friends, tanning on the Jersey shore, BBQing and just living it up. I love my dad a lot, and it sucks that I won't see him. Maybe he'll come see me. As he gets older and older, I feel more and more guilt for not spending time with him. But it's obviously not my fault- I'm in MO, he's in PA- but that doesn't really matter.

I've got a great set of friends here. They'd come to my rescue if/when I need it. I can't complain about that department. Ameena's come up with a great list of things the gang should do over the summer. Catherine and I plan on becoming regulars at some of the bars/concert venues. Alex is in town and the girl is so cool, i can't wait to hang with her. In fact, Nathan wanted me to come over tonight and hang, but I'm exhausted so I turned down the offer.

I blame this funk on the first paragraph of this post. 

I'll get my mojo back.

Farewell Baton Rouge, remember me fondly.

So, my mom originally wanted me to go back to school today, instead of tomorrow, just in case my teeth start hurting and I have to spend the night. But, as I was busy Friday and Saturday, I neglected my packing duties so I decided to stay in town one last day.

I'm sad to go back to school. I've had fun bonding with my mom and playing with my new pup. But at the same time, I'm ready to go back to the real world. I'm ready to write for Vox, a magazine, and intern at The Missouri Review, a literary journal. Though I really truly do love myself, I'm ready to hit the school's gym. Sports Illustrated named my school's Rec Center the best College Rec Center in America my freshman year, so it's pretty nice. That year, my dorm was literally right beside it and I couldn't muster the enthusiasm to use it. But this  summer I will.

It's been an okay time back at home. I spent most of it in bed being pampered while I recuperated, which is not a bad way to spend some time. Friday night, though, I hung out with my friends and that was pretty nice I guess. We played a drinking card game, sweated in a sauna, I gave out a phone number i don't use, and it was a fun night. I'd still much rather actually go out somewhere than stay in, but it was fine. 

As per one of my previous posts, I won't have any crying eyes seeing me go back to school, so there's not really anything tying me to Baton Rouge. I doubt my mom will even cry, but she's not that type. I'll be bawling my eyes out, but that's only because I'm bad and goodbyes and hate doing them.

I do think that leaving on Memorial Day may be a bad idea, though. I fear the cops will be on high alert for speeders, so I'll have to try to obey the law, which will be hard.

At least JFK wasn't shot.

Yesterday I went to Blockbuster to rent "Let The Right One In". I have yet to watch it, but I'm pretty excited about it. While I was there, I was eavesdropping on two girls who looked to be my age. Here's what I heard:

"Hey, who's Jack and Bobby?" Girl #1

"What?" Girl #2

"Like, what are they famous for?" 1

"They were politicians or something." 2

"Oh, were they related?" 1

"Yeah, they're cousins." 2. Not quite.

"Really, oh." 1. 

"Actually, I think they're brothers, yeah. One was president and one was shot." not quite right, sweetie. I really wanted to jump in and say something, but as I can't open my mouth wide, can't smile, and was swollen, they'd probably think I were Boo Radly, if they knew who he is.

"Yeah, one was rising in politics and people really liked him, but then he was shot. The other was a president." 2.

"Ah, thanks, I always wondered about that." 1.

I was so astonished! I was like oh my goodness. We were near the "Ts"in the alphabet, so I'm not sure what movie inspired their convo, but i really wanted to hand them a copy of "Bobby".

Buh-Bye Wisdom Teeth

I got my Wisdom Teeth taken out on Thursday. I was so nervous. I got there at 8:30 AM and made small chat with the nurse lady, which I disliked. Finally, the doctor came in and put an IV in my hand that numbed me. It didn't put me to sleep but it did make me unaware of my surroundings. I do remember breaking out into uncontrollable tears during part of it and I was very embarrassed, but the doctor said that was common.

I've just been lounging at home since then. I've been feeling ill and the Percocet made me puke, but I'm feeling a lot better now. It used to hurt to walk, but it's okay now. I'm still swollen but will hopefully be 100% fine soon.

My mom has been very mom-like during this whole ordeal. She's held my hand and stayed in bed with me. She even offered to skip work Friday to stay with me, but I told her not to. She's been surprisingly sweet and for that I am very grateful. Tracy, my sister, on the other hand, has been a selfish little jerk and not helped. She's been partying with her friends, taking my car, and fighting with Mom. She did bring me ice cream, though, which was nice. She's just annoying and I hope she realizes the errors of her ways soon.

Also, we got a new puppy! He's an 80 pound Mastiff mix and his name is Brutus. I love him. I'll post pics when I take some.

My journey home

I haven't been in a writing mood lately. I promised to write everyday, but I knew that if I wrote during the past few days, they would've been terrible posts, so in order to keep up a quality blog, I decided not to write.

I drove back to Baton Rouge on Wednesday and it was a crazy trip. First, a hitchhiker almost committed suicide via my car. He was walking on the shoulder and the trucks in front of me got in the left lane to be polite. I didn't feel like being polite, so I stayed in the right lane. Then, right when I got beside him, he jumped out into the road! Thankfully he missed my car, but had he gotten in my way, my trip would have been delayed, and I would've been upset.

Then, I was listening to a radio talk-show host who was talking about some baseball player's brother who wants "hateful" groups to be taken off of Facebook. Apparently there are groups who say the Holocaust never happened and this guy wants them disbanded. I think that's silly. People should have the right to share ideas, even if some may find them ludicrous/offensive.

But, as I was listening to the show, I forgot to pay attention to the road and I missed my turn. Trying to find my way back to I-55 I took a wrong turn somewhere and ended up at the Memphis airport. I was scared and thought I'd never make it home. Before going into a full-blown panic attack, I breathed, and was thankfully able to find my way back.

Then it started to rain really hard with bright lightening and loud thunder mixed in. I was terrified, but thankfully I made it in.

The next day, Wednesday, I went to my sister's high school graduation. It was very boring and very ghetto. There were people with air-horns galore. One family even had a confetti machine. It was crazy and I was bored out of my mind. I did, however, teach my mom how to play Rockband on my iPod before it started and that was pretty fun.

Outta here!

I finished my test and can forever forget about Germany, until I move there and never want to leave.

Now I'm packing and am heading home to Baton Rouge. According to weather reports, it's supposed to rain here and there today, but as of now, it is quite sunny. I hope it keeps up.

I'm excited to go home, even if for a little while. But at the same time I don't want to go back and that is because of a John Mayer song called "Can't Take That Plane". It touches me on many levels. This is the bit that is applicable to this post: 

Bought a ticket for a trip I wanted long ago
staring deep into crying eyes
said goodbye, stood in line
now I changed my mind
I used to run and never look behind.

But now, now I've got a love to leave
and now, not gonna walk away so easily.

I can't take that plane

Unfortunately I have no crying eyes. No love to leave. But no one here has really caught my fancy. Well, there's one guy, but he has a girlfriend. There are also another two that I like, but do partially to my cowardice and partially to ill-timing nothing has happened between us. The other ones that have caught my fancy in Missouri don't matter.

Oh well, this is my emo post, it had to come eventually.

Peace out Columbia, and hello Baton Rouge!

Mysterious visitors and Germany

I found a mysterious flower petal on my sink last week. I've never had flowers in this apartment. I have no roommates. How did it get there? I am not making this up. A few months ago, I found a gum-ball in my mailbox. I did not eat it. Who put it there? I seriously heard creaking, like someone was walking around my room last night. When I got up to investigate, the noise stopped. I like to think I have an admirer. But I am also afraid when I go to sleep. It's an uncomfortable life that I lead.

On another note, I'm studying for the last final I have before I can skip on back to the dirty south. I'm nervous though, as this teacher never likes my writing. On the last paper I got back, he'd scribbled "no" on pretty much every paragraph on every page. Ouch. I thought I had Aced it, as I had actually enjoyed the topic.

This time around, though, I feel a little more enlightened on Germany's government. I thought that the Berlin Wall was built to keep Communism from spreading throughout the world as part of the Domino Theory, but my dad told me I was wrong. My dad told me the Russians built to keep the people in so that they couldn't escape the Communist regime (for lack of a better word). I now see them in a different light. My teacher told me, though, that East Berlin was Socialist and not Communist, but after my research, I've still found that they are Communist.

Anyway, my dad told me that during the Vietnam War, he was stationed in Germany where he caught spies and stuff. I always sort-of thought he was lying to seem cool. Why would he be in Germany if the war was in Asia? Apparently we had troops in Germany as part of NATO (I think b/c of that). So I bet he really does have cool stories to share.

Pulitzer Prize Winner

I had a dream a few weeks ago that scared me. For some reason I started thinking about it again just now, while I was bathing. Here are the fuzzy details that I remember and how it has affected my life:

I got a chance to go into a prison and befriend a prisoner. I got him to divulge his secrets and really interesting life-experiences to me. Excited, I rushed home and typed up the story. It went on the front page of the New York Post with a very witty headline. Everyone was impressed, as the story was touching, interesting, enlightening, and just great. 

I was heralded for it. I won the Pulitzer Prize, among many other recognitions. I got rich and was able to get my fictional books and stories published. Those were great as well. I had everything- fame, money, a big house, friends, lovers. 

Then, my source was unexpectedly released from prison. He did not like the story I did about him. At the height of my success, he murdered me. I was killed, but I had written an exquisite piece.

This is where it gets interesting: after I died, I had a chance to relive my life. I could do it exactly the same- still run the piece and be killed for it- or I could choose not to. If I didn't, then  I would never be wildly successful. People would under-appreciate me and everyone would think I were mediocre. An angel told me this. 

It took me a while to decide. Then I woke up. I took my waking as not just the end of a dream, but the beginning of a life I'd already lived. I thought (and still sort of do) that I really did do all those things, and now is my chance to do it again. I sat long and hard and thought about what I should do. Is death worth the glory? Is it better to be really, really happy for some years, or is it better to live an average-length life with a normal amount of happiness?

Terrified, I couldn't decide, and I still can't, not really. I think that if I know that I could be successful- and I do know that- then that's enough, the world doesn't have to know it too. But at other times, I'm like "But Jess, you've always wanted people to read your work and fawn over your brilliance." And I then say, "Yes Jess, that is quite true. You do like to be fawned over." 

So I think I would (will) publish the article, as it really had a big impact on the world. 

I want to be a Revolutionary

I had an ok day. I did some studying, had dinner and dessert with some pals, and am now taking another study break. I've decided that it would be in my best interest to actually read the book that my History of Germany professor assigned, as he said one of the essays on the final will come from the book. 

The book is called Joschka Fischer and the Making of the Berlin Republic, which is a biography. At first this book bored me to tears, which is why I have been putting off reading it. But once I got 100 pages in, it actually became interesting.

Joschka is a man who was dissatisfied with his life. In an effort to disobey his parents, he fled to another country to marry his girlfriend. He was like 19 or 20, but in Germany you had to have your parents permission to wed if you were under 21 (which I think should still be in effect here in the US, but that's a subject for another blog). After that, he travelled around, sitting in on college classes, learning Marx's theories and other Left-Wing extremists' ideologies. Soon, he became a ring leader for people who wanted a change. 

He preached a violent overthrow, though. When they did sit-ins and the police attacked them, they attacked back. With Moltav Cocktails. He led a violent group to fight the "fascist state" with their own terror. It was nuts. After a while, though, he realized that violence wasn't the answer, because you either end up dead or in jail. He had his "epiphany" after being locked-up for throwing a bomb into a cop car, killing the 23 yr old cop inside. He didn't actually do it, though. Now he's like the Minister of Something (I haven't finished the book) for Germany.

This has got me to thinking. I want to be a revolutionary. I want to fight for something I believe in. I want to stick it to The Man. I want to do sit-ins and protests and get in bar brawls. I want to live in a co-op, do shrooms and start an era that everyone will remember.

Sadly, though, I think America is great. I can't think of anything that is wrong with this country. Maybe I could protest Obama, but I'm fairly certain I'd get shot (which might actually add to my cause). If anything, I'd protest that we become a more fascist state. I don't know if anyone would be with me. So for the time being, I'm going to finish the book and think of some bandwagon I should jump on.

Responsibility

I did it. Without a whole lot of thinking, I unhooked my cable box and quickly drove it down to the cable place. I cancelled the cable. After  I did so, I had a near panic attack. My mom said I could keep it, but she would appreciate it if I cancelled it. So I did.

I'm home now, and it's still working. I hope this keeps up.

On other news, I'm going to Boone's Landing tonight with the English club. I'm excited. I don't know much about the place. But apparently there's live music and thai food. It should be a good time.

Cable Dilemma

I have cable and I enjoy it very much. I like my Grey's Anatomy, Ugly Betty and Vh1 shows. The part of cable that I don't like is the bill. It's about $70 a month. I live alone, so the bill falls on my shoulders. I've been telling my mom I'll get rid of it for some time now, but I have yet to do so. I don't know if I'm brave enough to get rid of it.

I know there is Hulu, but my Internet is rather sketchy. I guess I could always go on-campus to use the 'Net if mine fails. Purchasing Netflix was also recommended. I think that would probably be ok.

Now that I'm 21, I'm spending a lot of money on alcohol (more than I thought I would), so I have to make some cutbacks. The smart thing to do would be to not drink, I guess, but that's not really an option. It looks like the cable's gotta go.

I'll be staying in Missouri this summer to do summer school, so I should get rid of things that may distract me. Like cable. But at the same time, it doesn't look like I am going to find a job, which will leave me with a lot of free time.

Oh well, the problem looms. Advice is appreciated.

Fantasies at work.

I work at the reception desk at the local newspaper. I'm here now. A few minutes ago, I heard Jamie Fox's "Alcohol" and I got very excited. I happen to love that song. I am very urban. Just as I was getting into it, it stops, and I look around to see what happened. As it turns out, it was the ringtone of a very sexy lad. He stopped, chatted into the receiver, and I watched. 

I saw myself get up from my chair, cross the lobby, take his phone, shut it and say "baby, I'm all the entertainment you need." Then I grab him by the hand and pull him to my desk, then I pull down the blinds. But once we got there, the dynamics change and he takes control and is very savage with me on my boss' desk (cliche, sure. Still hot, of course). It'd be a very good time. Then, when I had my fill, I'd swat him away and go back to my New York Post perusing. 

I was in the middle of my reverie when I realized that Mr. Alchy was leaving. Just as I was about to mumble something, I hear him say into his phone "Guess what? My dad's going to be out of town this weekend, so..." and then he left the building.

His dad's out of town? So what? You're in college and you look like a junior, at the least. Shouldn't you be the one that's out of town? Are you going to have a raging kegger while the pop's away? Will you need the guests to come back the next day to sneak the beer bottles into the neighbor's trash bins?

I then imagined going on a date with him, only to have his mother be behind the wheel. When she drops us off at the Putt-Putt place he asks her for a $20 and an extension on his curfew. Then, a little further down the line, I see us hanging in his den, watching his favorite movie, "Cheaper by the Dozen." When it's over, we go to his bedroom to discuss Tom Welling's acting chops, only to find the door has been removed from its hinges, so his momma knows what we're doing at all times.

This fantasy depresses me. I liked my first one better.

So, from my brief encounter with this very attractive brooding young man, I have realized that it is best not to judge people. From looking at him, I thought he'd be a fun guy, but when I peered about further into his life, I realized what a bore he would be. 

I'll talk about anything, but grades. Keep that shit personal.

So, I was in the shower, and I started to think, as I often do. When I'm not thinking, I'm playing a fun game that I invented, but I feel it may be too suggestive for you to handle. But if you (and as per the title of my blog, I have to assume there is a "you") continue to get know me via this blogging thing, you'll have to realize that I can be a real perv. 

But, I was thinking this time about school/grades. Finals are coming up (tomorrow, to be exact) so grades are naturally going to be on my mind. I am really apathetic to the subject. I don't know why, but I've never cared about excelling at school. Ultimately, as long as I graduate, I don't care about my grades so much. I know that I am going to be successful in the future, so I don't stress the small stuff. I tend to be the girl that makes Cs is classes she doesn't care about. But, in full disclosure, I had to repeat Economics and Statistics (why does a journalism major need those?) as I flunked them (and I remember a 'D' being a passing grade in the old days, oh well). In more disclosure, I got a D in Econ the second time around. I didn't even tell my mom that, and she has a right to know, as she pays my tuition, but I figured it was best not to worry her. My advisor didn't say I had to repeat it, so that I was good. I didn't flat out ask her, but I told her to take a good hard look at my transcript and see if I was on the correct path to graduating. She said everything looked great. I opted not to press her.

Anyway, in the shower, I was thinking about about other people's grades. It really annoys me when people talk about them. I get especially annoyed when people are like "I got an A-, this is going to kill my average," and stuff like that. I nod, frown, and tell them that I feel bad for them. I don't really. I'm thinking "shut the fuck up and get over yourself." 

You may think that's me being jealous, but it's not. As long as I pass, I don't need to get straight As. I just think it's so rude, unless you were almost Valedictorian, then I could understand your frustration. It's the same as saying, "Man, I only have $1000 in my account, I'm broke." It's like, fool, I make $119 every two weeks, so back off.

 I especially dislike it when people get their test back and are like "What did you get?" They're only asking because they did really well and want to brag, or they want to see who they're smarter than. Whenever I get a good grade, I don't talk about it, because it's expected. And if I don't do well, I shrug it off. But if I am curious about how other people did, I say "Man, I got a D, can I see what a good paper looks like?" or something, as it's polite that way.

I don't know why, but talking grades really skeeves me out. Also, when people make their status "I just got a 4.0, I rock"- I get annoyed. I'm Jesus, here we go again. But, my status today was about a grade I got back, but it was about how much my teacher hated an essay I wrote, so I found the negative status to be ok.

So basically, keep your grade problems to yourself. If you do need to talk to me about them, then do, just know that I may be smiling, but I'm imagining myself beating you to a pulp.

I've gotta give it up sometime

Hey.

So, I've caved. I'm a caver. I'm adverse to technology. I think the direction that the Internet is headed in is very creepy. But, of course I have a Facebook account which I go on everyday, and a Youtube account that shows me smoking Salvia. I assume that people like to look at my photos and my witty notes and my legally induced high. 

The natural next step was to sign up for Twitter. I didn't want to do this. But, since the status is my favorite part of Facebook, I decided to give it a try. Then when I found out that I could read tons of little witty updates from John Mayer himself, I whipped out my Mac and signed up. As it turns out, I don't like the site.

But I do like talking about myself. I like reading about myself. I love sharing little anecdotes that have happened to me. That being said, I must assume that everyone else is interested in this as well. So I decided to start this blog. I intend to update it at least once a day, and I intend to be as honest and uncensored as possible.

So here are some basics: I'm a junior at Mizzou, majoring in magazine journalism, but I may end up in publishing. In one week I will have my Wisdom Teeth yanked. I am scared. 

I have a final in History of American Journalism tomorrow, which is a very sucky class. I'm not looking forward to it, perhaps that's because instead of studying, I have been laying in bed watching "The Real Housewives of NY." I love those ladies. I can't wait to marry a dude who has a bunch of money. I'll use him to make good connections in New York. After I've secured a good agent, I'll chuck him to the curb.

Another trashy show I watch, instead of studying, is "I Love Money 2". I have the biggest crush on The Entertainer. He's very sexy in a rugged way, and the way he loses his temper and hits things is hot. I don't even care that he licked New York's nasty-ass toes. I also don't mind that he's like 38 or something and still lives with his parents. 

"It" was one of my favorite characters though. He made it all the way to the Top 3! He's a real idiot. But, I wanted him to be like "my idiocy is a facade, fools, I'm a Mensa member!". But no such luck. While trying to win the $250,000 he got hungry, so he stopped at a restaurant and ate. Jackass.

My current favorite website is:

http://www.textsfromlastnight.com/

You need to check it out.