I'm trying to post at least once a day. Mainly because I'm trying to document this time in my life REALLY well. If you read my blog, or even know me in real life, you can tell, fairly early, that I like to savor. After a really good kiss, I keep my eyes closed and replay what just happened. Cheesy, I know. But it's a way to savor a good thing. . . I am such a girl somedays.
Anyway, today was my last day of undergrad classes. I guess I had built up this monumental accomplishment I would feel after the class was over. . . That did not happen. What did I do after the class was over? I went over to our bookstore: "Chapters" (clever, I know) and experienced some extreme book lust. I'm talking, stumbling block of the highest order.
And I sniffed the pages out of those books I looked at today. Oh, the smell of books is one of my favorite smells. Sometimes, when I'm shelf-reading at work, I sneak books off the shelf and take a huge whiff. It makes me get that 'tingle' in my brain; that part of me that is always yearning for more knowledge. When I get really excited about books/music/statistics/physics, there is this part of my brain that I feel as though it 'tingles.' Extremely weird, I know. But I just might be the most eccentric person, ever. Well, coming in at a close 2nd to Howard Hughes.
I started reading "Reading Lolita in Tehran" and I'm just going to have to start reading it. I need to start reserving books from my library at home. On the list: "Thirteen Reasons Why" and "Reading Lolita in Tehran." Small, I know. Also, I think I'm going to finish my Russian novels list this summer!!! I've been reading through it since 12th grade and it has been one of the most difficult literary tasks I have undertaken. Worse than the time I read "Swan's Way" or "Atlas Shrugged." Gaspies. I'm not a Russian literature fan, but there have been some gems in there. Dostoyevsky is magical. I love the psychology of his characters. He might go on my list of "Authors that I wish loved Jesus so I could marry them" list. You think I'm only making a funny. . .
Went over to the Alumni Center, which was my second trip in one week. Man, I must be matriculatin'! Anyway, went over to the Alumni Center for "Happy Trails." More like "You spent thousands of dollars in student loans, and all you got was this glass cup. Happy Trails." Lame. I ended up spending the afternoon cleaning my apartment with Roommate. Which gave me an idea for a list. . . My pet peeves.
So, here are my pet peeves. Listed in order of peeviness:
1. When time is left on the microwave. Holy smokes. This really drives me nuts. Peevy.
2. When girls leave hair in the shower; and I'm talking leg hair. The bathtub was not made to be carpeted. Clean up after yourself.
3. A turn indicator. Honestly, we should just do away with them. People either don't use them or they leave them on while they're in the left lane anyway.
4. The text message alert chimes on iPhones. B-A-N-A-N-A-S. I don't know how people with iPhones put up with it. I would be checking my phone 9 extra times a day, thinking I was recieving a text when I really wasn't.
5. Words like: fiduciary, fiscal. It's as though they are speaking Klingon to me. They might as well be.
6. Text message language. Rather: "Txt mssg lang." English is the language of Proust, Shakespeare, Milton, Thoreau. . . Cold blooded murder of the English tongue indeed.
7. Blue tooth devices. Take your yuppie and creepy "Star Trek" phone device somewhere else, please and thank you. It's especially peevy when you think they're talking to you.
8. When fellas inch forward at stoplights to try and get your attention. Yes, I always knew I would find my future spouse at the stoplight while he was trying to get my attention via him saying "Hey. Hey Rodeo. Hey!" If he had a Spanish accent, he could have taken me right then.
9. Ageism. I know I'm young. But I'm smart. I'm a fast learner. And you know what? I probably do know what you're talking about. Unless it has the word "fiscal" in it. I would tune you out just to save brain space.
10. Sexism. I'm not a bra-burning fan, but I am dang proud to be a girl. And with comments like: "Oh, she's a girl. She must be bad at math", it makes me so mad I could spit nails. Or rip a phone book. Or dropkick a gypsy.
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