This Post Could Be A Country Song

I have this pair of jeans.

I’ve had them since I was in 8th grade.

That’s six years, ladies and gentlemen.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.

I know.

Every time I wear them {which had slowly and sadly dwindled to about once a year} someone kindly suggests that I throw them away, on account of the fact that they are disgusting.

I might be more inclined to take their advice if they weren’t the most comfortable thing I own. Sure, I could always buy a new pair of jeans two sizes too big with pre-ripped holes in the knees, but it wouldn’t be the same.

So I wear mine.

And they make me happy.

I mean, think about it. I have had these since I was 13-years-old. How many things do I still have {and love} from when I was 13? A couple of stuffed animals, and a blanket maybe, but the list isn’t long.

And so I wore my jeans today, and now I will put them back in my drawer until the next time I feel the need for extreme comfort and reminiscence at the same time.


*On a side note, my mother also had a pair of very old and extremely ragged jeans that she loved {the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree I guess} and I recently may or may not have been partially responsible for her getting rid of them. {Hint: I was.}

I’m sorry mom!

I have seen the error of my ways.

Mondays are My Least Favorite Day of the Week

Mondays have always been the worst, but this semester they are worse than usual. 6 classes in one day is about 2 more than I can handle, and 3 more than ideal. My Monday schedule also makes Sunday nights practically unbearable because I am plagued by the thoughts of homework I should be doing. Monday nights, with FHE, are a little better, but by the time I am done for the day it is 9 o’clock and I am ready to pass out, and any hope I had of being productive soars right out the window. Tuesday is only occupied by one class, but this 3 hour long nightmare is quickly becoming the bane of my existence, and if it weren’t for the fact that I could sit here and blog in the middle of class I would lose my mind, absolutely and completely. And then Tuesday night I work, but the restaurant is slow, and the people are cynical, and the money is scarce.

To sum up: 4:15pm Sunday-10pm Tuesday is the longest 53.25 hours of.my.life.

And I hate it.

{With a few minor exceptions.}

Luckily for me, Tuesday night-Sunday afternoon is immensely more enjoyable.

Only 8 hours to go.

Google : 0 Kara: 0 (We're All Losers Here)

I recently confided in a dear friend of mine that a situation keeps arising in which I find myself continually at a loss for things to say. {Shocking, I know.} I can’t chalk this aberration up to nervousness, seeing as how when I am nervous I usually begin a discourse of unreasonable rambling without the slightest idea what I am talking about and why. So it’s not nerves, necessarily, but something is driving all words directly from my mind. It would be a little more acceptable if it were merely driving all interesting things from my mind {another phenomenon I have experienced} but no, I simply am left without words all together. My dear friend suggested that I practice what I am going to say in the mirror. Skeptical but willing I immediately went and stood in front of the mirror. Instead of thinking of clever or interesting or witty things to say {or anything at all for that matter} I began a silent examination of my face. By the time I was done, I had accomplished nothing except to heighten my self-consciousness and remove my stubborn eye makeup.

Slightly annoyed but mostly undaunted, I instead turned to Google for help, and it turns out there is no shortage of advice pages devoted to conversation starters for the socially inept. For example, searchwarp.com thinks it would be a good idea for me to get the dialogue going in said awkward situation by turning to someone and saying “Peanut butter and what?” Or better yet, asking them if they have any relatives in jail, if they are a good parent, what their favorite Cyndi Lauper song it, what their favorite Care Bear is, and if they have ever been in love with two people at the same time. Hmmm. If a virtual stranger randomly said any of these things to me I am afraid I would fix them with an incredulous stare and turn the other way as soon as I had the chance. I can’t help but wonder if these things actually work, but I am inclined to think they don’t, as I was roped into attending an FHE activity last week where we speed dated and with each new person we had a different topic to discuss. Like, if you won 30 million dollars what would you do with it, and if you could have any super power what would it be. I found it insufferable, especially when a specific guy told me he would like to be the punisher, who is apparently some kind of super hero powered by the rage he feels as a result of his entire family being murdered. What?! So then I responded that I would like to be super stretchy because I hate when I am in bed at night and realize I need to get up to turn the lights off. He did not look impressed, and neither did I.

3 minutes never lasted so long.

So Google failed me, and I am afraid I am going to have to either be content with my new status as a mute or search deep into the recesses of my brain to string together coherent thoughts if and when the situation ever arises again. And if that doesn't work, I can always rely on “Peanut butter and what?”

Cause that makes sense.

Wishful Thinking

Tonight I was driving home from work with the window rolled down and the AC on high, and for a few brief but thrilling moments I thought I felt a chill in the air. Immediately dreams began to form in my mind of warm weather clothes {specifically the adorable sweater I bought with Krystal today and the maybe equally adorable electric blue hoodie I did not buy} and me participating in fall-specific activities in said clothing. It did not last long however, once I turned off my car and stepped outside to discover there was no chill in the air. Not even kind of. The good news, however, is that it was not hot, so the temperature must be dropping some.

It’s all about progress.

Only 4 more days :)

Returning to the Nest: Pros & Cons

Con: I never do my homework.

Pro: My mom is here to help me make homework related phone calls when I wait until the last minute and begin to panic.

***

Con: When I come home from school and announce “I think failed my geology test today!” The response I receive from my mom is “Oh no! You should have studied!” and from my dad, “I never failed anything in college.” When I would come home to Regan and relate my failure, she would say something akin to “Awh, I’m sorry. School sucks.” OR “Yeah, me to.”

Pro: I have someone to talk to about my day, as opposed to when I lived with Roommate Number 1, who lived in head phones and old movies.

***

Con: When I spill Plum Pudding nail polish all over our family room carpet and then hear my dad pull into the garage 30 seconds later, I feel like an 8-year-old with my hand caught in the cookie jar.

Pro: My parents have DVR so I can record Top Model while I scrub the carpet.

***

Con: Occasionally I grow very hungry waiting for food to be placed in front of me, rather than getting up and making food ( i.e. opening a box of Cheez-Its) for myself.

Pro: When my mom realizes we are all hungry, we get Jack-In-The Box milkshakes and Jr. Bacon Cheeseburgers as a remedy.

***

Con: My family goes to bed ridiculously early, leaving me to wander the house by myself past 10:30 pm.

***

Pro: Getting to explain to my dad the differences between MySpace and Facebook when he says “Everyone’s facing out these days” and then intently asks “So is MySpace pretty much dead in the water?”

Song Of The Day

Enjoy!

It's About Time

28 days, 4 trips to the ASU book store, 1 visit to Half Price Books, 1 stop by Cassie's parents house, 1 (undelivered) online order, and $379.5 later, and I am *finally* ready to start the semester.