Short News

Finals are rapidly approaching along with several boring and complicated papers. I may not be around for a little while. And by the way, I did not flunk my French exam.

After Thanksgiving

Well, I had a wonderful Thanksgiving, despite the awkward and tension-filled silences, and there was an Avatar marathon so woo-ha! Now it is back to school and getting up really early. Not cool. Also, I just found out today that I have two more weeks of school until Christmas vacation. That was very surprising and a little disconcerting. I have many things to do in a very short amount of time. To keep from panicking I have compiled a list of things to help me avoid the reality of my situation:
1) play Jak 3 with Les nonstop
2) watch Band of Brothers
3) eat ice cream
4) tell some jokes
5) fall asleep

Well, that's a full night of nothing, which leaves no room for silly stuff like papers or critique essays or internship evaluations. Therefore, I had better get to it, but not before I talk about what I would be if I were in a war. If I were in a war I would most definitely be a medic with the para troopers . . . and I would be awesome. Les would be a medic too. Callie would be a general and everyone else would be infantry or privates or whatever except for those few who wanted to be company snipers. All right, I'm choking to death right now so I'd better go find some help.

Is This Pink?

Do any of you know how good I am at recognizing random people? Because I am awesome at it. Here are some examples:
- I recognized my seventh grade teacher at the theater the other day
- I can recognize Ralph Fiennes without a nose
- I recognized this guy that I had class with at Heartland and he was soooo cool and I didn't say anything because I didn't think he would remember me but then he came up to talk to me and I was so very extemely excited and I told Leslie all about it
- I recognized another former teacher at Target one time

Well, now that I read over that list I find that it is not very impressive and I feel badly about that. Oh well, you can't dwell on those things. I am going to eat dinner now and call my mom and tell her that I do not have to work on Thanksgiving. She will be very excited and she will want to bake my manager a pie because he is doing all the work and that is why I do not have to. Yay for my manager!

I took a huge French exam today and probably flunked it and therefore I feel the need to go do something outrageous, like maybe buy something expensive and completely useless, to make up for it. Probably not though. Recently I have become very responsible with my money. I have even started to balance my check book. Anyway, enough of that riveting conversation . . . I'm going to go do something else.

Illness

First off I was horribly and violently sick all week. It all started with a tiny cold and suddenly I was vomiting my intestines into a ceramic bowl made by Leslie for that exact purpose. Actually I did not vomit at all and Leslie has not made a cermaic bowl for me to puke in. I wish she would though. That would be super cool, not to be confused with Team Cool. Today I would like to talk about the benefits of being sick. Really, being sick is quite awful, but there were several things that happened because I was sick and I have labeled them "benefits."
Benefit #1) I did not have to go to school
Benefit #2) I was able to lay around all day without anyone giving me that look that says "and what did you do all day, you horrible lazy-person?"
Benefit #3) My mom bought my groceries for me
Benefit #4) Leslie rubbed my back and said, "You poor thing"

However, those four benefits do not really make up for all the misery so just scratch everything.

My Job Really Doesn't Suck

I hate children and their parents. I especially hate parents. I hate parents who come to movies and allow their filthy spawn to throw popcorn and food and Diet Pepsi (seriously, who orders Diet Pepsi for a child?) all over everything and then point at the horrendous mess and smile apologetically at me as they leave. I just absolutely see red when that happens. Also, why do these people even buy popcorn? They don't eat it. They just throw it on the floor and then leave the rest in the bag and then throw it on the floor. I know it's my job to clean up the theater after the people leave, but seriously, these past few days have been ridiculous.

If you live with me, or have had any contact with me in the last 48 hours then you know that this is all I talk about and you are fed up with me. I'm sorry for that.

Last night I ate fast food again. I don't know what's happening to me. I think it's a stage I'm going through. Either that or I'm turning into a mutant.

Why My Job Doesn't Suck

I feel rather badly for people who have boring or crappy jobs, so I am going to list the reasons why my job doesn't suck:
- It's a movie theater where movies are playing all day.
- My boss is semi-insane
- There is popcorn all the time
- My manager tells me funny stories (like the one called "Naked Bob") and makes really good tortilla- filled-with-pork-things that are so wonderful I dream about them at night and walk up to random strangers and tell them how I ate THREE tortilla-filled-with-pork-things and they were SO GOOD you might die of bliss if you eat one
- I get free t-shirts from Ike Reilly
- I get free cookies from the OCA Illinois chapter
- I go crazy and get rewarded with giant pretzels and cheese
- Wallace and Gromit: The Curse of the Wererabbit

Well, that's enough for now.

On the way to school a woman got angry with me because she thought I was tailgating her, which I was. She shook her fist at me in her rearview mirror and I laughed gleefully because I had ruined her day and that made me very happy because she was going too slow and she made me late for class and for a little while, I hated her. But then it passed. For a short second I desparately wished that she would get in a car accident and lose her legs and one of her arms (I didn't care which) and all of her teeth and that after the rehabilitation her husband would ask for a messy and bitter divorce but then, as I said, it passed.

I don't have any other news except that Leslie hates me, I miss my Danny K. (don't tell him I said that) and I haven't seen Callie for days so she has to be up to no good.

Good Fortune Kitty

Well I didn't die during the nightmare weekend. Everyone and their mother knows that. Today I:
- did something very stupid at the movie rental place and now my video rental friend probably hates me and will start charging me my late fees
- thought about doing laundry
- was rude to the stupid girl at the library.
- pulled a stunt driver magee when I jumped around this semi to avoid getting stuck behind it through construction
- went to work and ate some really good cookies and desperately wished that there was milk to go with those cookies (but I wished in vain)

Nothing exciting happened during my weekend unless you count the purchase of my dear "good fortune" kitty. My "good fortune" kitty is porcelain and gold and it waves at me. I love it with a substantial portion of my being. That's all now. I have to sleep.

My Last Will and Testament

Well. I am leaving for the "Nightmare Weekend" in about three hours. If I do not return then Leslie gets anything she wants of mine. She'll probably take all my quilts. Especially probably my blue satin quilt that I love with all my heart. But, that's fine because I'll be dead. Callie gets all my cats. Don't worry . . . after she feeds them on Saturday she will develop an inordinate affection for them, especialaly Ingrid, who always seems to take a liking to cranky, sarcastic people. Callie also gets my entire collection of Agatha Christie books. Elise gets my red quilt (because she likes red) and the cactus that I haven't bought yet. Leah can have my copy of Pride and Prejudice. I think it is the only book I own that she might enjoy. Ali gets all my snowboarding equipment and whatever is in my checking account so she can pay for her lift ticket. Jon gets dibs on Beth and Holly can have all my picture frames because those are probably the only things she would want to take. Jenn gets my car so she can sell it and possibly buy paper towels. Jake can have all my movies (except Road Warrior, which Tommy can have) and I hope that Tommy will tie him to a chair and glue his eyes open and force him to watch those intellectual atrocities until he is unable to remember his own name. JonAthan doesn't get anything. Ha ha! Just kidding! JonAthan can have all whoppers I left in the cheery jack-o-lantern on the coffee table. Traever can have all my classic rock knowledge that he so wishes he posessed. And he does, you know he does. Also, Leslie gets first dibbs on my hat collection. I'm going to stop now because I am feeling a tad depressed.

P.S. Leslie, my quilt had better be on my bed when I get home unless I really am dead . . . but if I'm not, then it better be there!

If Your Name Isn't Leslie, Then You Probably Shouldn't Read This

This week I am somewhere far far away. You could equate it to Never Neverland, but that would just be silly. That reminds me. Les, you left that peach flavored pop in my refrigerator and I have not opened it yet but I am getting closer and closer to breaking.

I may be going crazy but probably not. Would you like to hear a story? Too bad. I am not going to tell you one because I am late for class and I have to write several essays that are completely boring. I would rather move out west and shoot some cow rustlers, but that's not going to happen anytime soon. Speaking of cow rustlers, I would like to be a cowboy and wear a gun and a hat. That would b e awesome. And my name would b e Seth Bullock and I would be really cool. In case you do not know, that was a reference to Deadwood, probably the best show ever made.

Well, I had better get to class. I am really really tired. And I am hungry too. Pretty soon I am going to go home and eat some salmon. For those of you who do not know this, I eat salmon all the time. It is good. Sometimes I bet I would be a good cat. Anyway, I better get to class.