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Changeling.

• My mother is about an inch taller than me, but her hands are an inch longer. In fact, everyone in my immediate family has hands that are at least an inch larger than mine.
• My mother is 5'5". My father is 6'. Both of my brothers are 6'. I am 5'3 3/4 ".
• My father wears a size 9.5 (mens). My mother wears a size 8 (womens). My brothers range from a size 10-size 12 shoe. I wear a size 6 shoe (women's).
• My mother has brown eyes. My father has hazel eyes. Both of my brothers have brown eyes. I have blue eyes.
• My father has a tan complexion. My mother has a medium complexion. I am fair, and my skin is "translucent" (that is in quotes because I don't mean you can see organs through my skin, just the typical "oh, she has translucent skin," type of thing).
• I don't look like either of my parents facially, and I venture to say my smile is all my own.
  

Maybe I got switched with another baby at the hospital? On the other hand:

• my hair is light brown, fine, wavy, and of medium thickness. My father has thick curly black hair, and my mother has super fine, super straight, thin light brown hair.
• I hold a certain resemblence to my aunt and great-aunt on my mother's side. The women on my father's size tend to be shorter (though not as short as me).
• The skin-- I am a quarter pollock.
• The small hands and feet could be a freakish coincidence-- maybe all that caffiene when I was a youngster. Maybe I just got the short end (ha ha!) of the stick.

Conclusion: Who the hell knows! Maybe I am a changeling.

I discovered the power of being an ornery bitch.

I’m ornery. Sure, some of you there city folk are going to say I’m stubborn, but when it comes right down to it, Ornery be I. Just ask Microsoft Word. It doesn’t matter how long they leave that fucking squiggly green line there, I am not going to change that sentence from a fragment. Verbs are for losers. And suckers. And, okay me. But you don’t get to tell me when I have to use a verb, so there, Microsoft Word! *sticks out tongue in most juvenile way possible*

So, I never really considered this a positive thing about myself. I mean, it has it’s benefits… though I can’t think of any, but I’m sure that there are some! But generally, I consider it one of those things that just makes me a pain in the ass sometimes.

I try not to talk about the more mundane aspects of college on here (ahem… please disregard that last entry), because I know it’s boring to read about other people’s assignments and teachers (at least generally, in my opinion). And, lets face it, if you really want to read about that shit, visit one of the 453,123,156,786 other college student blogs on the internet. Everyone slips up every once and a while (okay, now you may regard the previous entry), because it’s nearly impossible to completely remove such a large part of your life from discussion.

So, I’m taking Calculus 2 this semester (Gee, I’ve never mentioned that before!), and it fucking sucks. It’s horrible. I’ve never had so many math-induced headaches in my life, and we’re only 6 or 7 weeks into the semester. I am reasonably close (read: comfortable talking to) almost everyone in that class (because it’s so horrible, you must commiserate with everyone who is going through it with you), so I know how people are doing in the class.
And they just give up! It’s shocking to me. They get a shitty grade on the test, and they give up. They may stay in class for a few more weeks, but they don’t really try anymore. Apathy is exuded from them. “Fuck it, I don’t give a damn about this class anyway!”

I tend rather towards the opposite extreme. I get a shitty grade on a test (ahem, not that that has happened this semester… *cough cough*) and out come the claws. “Okay, motherfucker. You can’t beat me. I’m going to kick your ass, and then I’m going to drag you all over town behind me so people can point and laugh at you.”
I may still go down, but it’ll be in a blaze of glory, mumbling to myself about infinite series and with flash cards glued to my face with my own saliva.

I know that in principle, teachers don’t want to flunk you, and classes are not really alive and thus can’t taunt you with shitty grades, but I don't care! I will not give in without a fight.

You want a piece of me, bitch?

So, I guess the point is that maybe it’s sometimes okay to be ornery. Ornery like when you are from a city, but you still insist on saying words like “ornery” and “y’all”, and where terms like "city folk" are perfectly acceptable on a daily basis.

Blah blah blah school vent. Just call me Ventl! Look at me, with the funny!

Sweet jeebus but I’m tense. And tired. But mostly tense.

I have a Calc. 2 test tomorrow, for which I am rampantly unprepared for. That is only partly my fault—some of the blame is also definitely due to my shit-ass-ho teacher. He’s a fucking genius, at least in math. Not necessarily a genius in every branch of learning, though… the other day he called me Shlowee. Yes, that’s right, Shlo-wee. I’ve never heard it mispronounced so badly before, and I’ve been called Ka-low. Like, “Kah to the L. O.”! Like J. Lo, but with a kah! It’s still funny. Hey, shut up. Back to math: he understands it all so completely, that he doesn’t really write down what he’s doing. So, he’ll write down some problem, then do five steps in his head and write down the answer. Good for him, shitty for us, and it tends to mean more mathematical errors as well. Sometimes he’ll explain out loud what he’s doing, but that’s no use when I’m trying to do the problems by myself! GARRR! Anyway. Fascinating stuff to read about, no?

And then I have a French test on Wednesday, which I am also rampantly unprepared for. And a French composition to revise, which is due Friday. Oh, and two quantitative labs that I haven’t even started the post lab on, which are due Wednesday. Not to mention the French lab which is due on Wednesday as well. And now that I think about it, I need to do the pre-lab for the quantitative lab that I have to do on Wednesday as well! Labby McLab Labby Lab, p.s. French.

For those of you who have finished college, please look back and remember: this was your life once. I’m not even going to mention work. It wasn’t all fun and games, although you tend to forget all this shitty stuff. I know, now you have a job that you have to be at every weekday, but at least it’s less stressful than this. And you can get 8 hours of sleep a night, with a little effort.

But anyway, enough pity me whine piss and moan. I really just needed to vent, and then it’s back to the salt mines—I really do need to start some of that stuff, and I can do the pre-lab now, before my next class. One more thing off that to-do list, and only 2 more added every day!

And I so totally know you missed that joke in the title... it's Ventl! Like the movie? What with the Yentl? And the funny? Fine. Nevermind.

I think I just saw somethin' going down!

I think I just saw a thief selling stolen stuff on the street! He had a backpack, and it was full of stuff in boxes, and he was standing in a Church's Chicken parking lot, and a women was looking at the stuff in his backpack! That sounds like something going down, doesn't it? Huh?

I feel so street, now. Sure, I was in my Jeep Cherokee with the doors locked, waiting for the light to change, but I totally saw shit goin' down! Or does "shit" only "go down" when the police arrest someone? Did I just kill my street cred? Damn.

Automatic door.

I've seen this a few times in the past few days. Perfectly healthy college students pressing the door-open button that is for handicapped people, waiting for the door, and then walking through.

What, you are so weak you lack the strength to push open a door? You can punch that saucer-sized plate, but the actual movement of solid matter eludes you?
I just really don't understand how people can become that lazy. I mean, that is pretty sad state of affairs, when a twenty-year-old can't be bothered with pushing open a door.
And don't give me the "doors are germy" excuse, because I'm sure that button has as many germs as the push bar on the door. Maybe even worse bacteria, because perhaps someone who is sick actually lacked the strength to open the door, and already hit the button. And the doors are cleaned a few times a week, at least. I've never seen anyone cleaning the button. So that excuse just doesn't hold up, um, if you were going to use that.

And it's slower too. You have to stand and WAIT for the door to open. Gah! I couldn't stand that.
Not that, you know, I won't go through a door that's still open from a handicapped button push. It's faster then, and the door is already open, letting out the heating/air-conditioning. So don't you point no fingers at me!

So, any ideas for the rational, there?

Gah!

Cold. Wet. Hate Saint Louis weather.

Taking suggestions for a new place to live-- preferably sunny year round, never above 85 degrees and never below 50 degrees.

Seriously-- it's like 35 degrees outside and pouring rain-- it was 60 when I went to school this morning!

Gah! really says it all.

Just a bunch o' random thoughts.

I’m really in the mood to write today, even though I’m in the computer lab, and should be doing homework. No, wait, doing homework isn’t something I enjoy. Maybe that is why.
Nah, nevermind. Incidentally, nevermind was two words in my mind at one point, but after nirvana, it just ain’t the same no more, unless you are saying nevermind. See all that bad grammar? That was just to piss you off, Microsoft Word. YOU SUCK.

Please note that all those rumors you heard about Calculus 2 being super hard? Not rumors. True. Only more so. More so than you should ever want to know.

There is a computer in the room where I have my calc. 2 class, for teachers who use PowerPoint or whatever (yes, I did the funky p capitalization on power point just to make MS word happy. What can I say, I just told it that it sucked. I didn’t want it to feel bad). The teacher before my class forgot to log off the screen after she was finished, so it was still open on her log-in. Being the sneaky little bitch that I am, I changed the screen saver from [none] to 3-D [whatever you type]. And, because I’m lame, I changed the text to Doggie doo, and set it to go off 25 minutes later. All through the class, my teacher had doggie doo spinning by his face, and it made me perversely happy, because I don’t like that teacher and I hate that class. Not that I got much time to mull it over in class, as he was talking so fast I got rug burn on my hand from my notebook. I guess that really should be called notebook burn, huh?

I just noticed that the computers at school now (which they just got new for this semester) have DVD-ROM drives. Do they really want us to come to school and watch movies on their computers? Why would people want to watch movies in a public computer lab with 40 other people? Watching a comedy? Burst out laughing in a silent room. Almost as bad as that girl talking on her cell phone right now. Yeah you, lady! Watching a drama? Struggle to hold in the tears since you are sitting in public. Not very practical. Maybe they were free.

We need to eliminate redundancy. Redundancy is redundant.

Courtesy of CNN.com:

"It's budget that sets priorities," Bush said after a meeting with his Cabinet. "It's a budget that reduces and eliminates redundancy. It's a budget that's a lean budget."

It's a budget. That is a lean budget. Good to know that you are also reducing redundancy in your speechifying, Georgie boy!

Omigawd! Did you see her shoes?

I never noticed before how strange people are when it comes to unusual shoe colors. Never, that is, until I met these shoes [please note that I got these shoes when they were $17.90. Hoo ah!] one fateful night.

Bright red is now a perfectly socially acceptable color for shoes. Hot pink, especially with black? Hell yeah! Blues have been acceptable for decades, regardless of intensity or tone, and you can even sneak a bit of orange in as an accent to your blue without a second glance.

But you buy one pair of purple shoes (the green is almost never visible, although I switched out the shoe laces with the green, due to the length I wear my pants), and you’d think the world was going to end because you dared to shirk the conventional shoe shades.

*mumbled under breath* “Quick, lookatthatgirl. No,herfeet. Hurry.”

Other person (loudly), “She’s wearing PURPLE shoes!!!”

No, shit, really? I had no idea. I’m color blind, and even though I heard that the shoes were purple, I bought them anyway.

How horrible! How strange and awful it is that someone would wear colored shoes!
Why, I’m practically shouting with my footwear, “Screw you, social norms! Take that, establishment!”

I suppose maybe I’m just especially sensitive, since I am normally wearing the average college student’s uniform.

But, Jesus, people! They are just shoes!
Stylish and comfy shoes!
So screw you and your boring, basic, white sneakers!
Ha ha ha! I’ve gone mad, and it’s all because of those damn purple shoes!