The Mixed Tape of my Life...

Monday, January 16, 2006

Back to bitterness.

Sunday, January 15, 2006

ElectroniElectronic “Catch Phrase”=THE SHIT

Boys = Drama/trouble

And that’s all I’ve got to say about that.

Buut, four-letter words make the world go ‘round. And not just my favorite four-letter words (Shit, damn, fuck), but other one’s too!!

crazie car 16: yes they do.... like... LIVE...LOVE....LIFE...LIKE...ROSE...WANT...WARM...GOOD...SNOW...
COOL...DOG...GAME...SEXY...HOTT...WISH...UPON...STAR...GALS...
GANG...FOOD...JUNE...JULY...THEY...THEM...WHEN...DOLL...
RAIN...POND...FISH...KIND...CARE...SHOW...BOAT...SAIL...SING...
SONG...BASE...ALTO...CUTE...WAVE...HYMN...LAMP...DESK...DOOR...
PURE...HAND...FOOT...NAIL...JOKE...MOON...BUTT...BOOB...WORD...
BURN...BIRD...BARF...BART...:-D
crazie car 16: made for you by caroline and jakie! have a super day

Bad a ba ba ba, I LOVE YOU CAL!

Friday, January 13, 2006

Hey! It's Spring (Semester)

Now that the new semester of classes is underway, I figured I would sound off on how life’s goin’

Philosophical Issues….All I gotsta say is “Whoa.” I only took this class because Thomas (My English Prof) said that a college student needs to take Philosophy. And that was all it took. I signed up for the class, not knowing for sure what I was getting myself into. On the first day of class, Mr. Backfield referenced Star Trek, and also mentioned that he’d never taught a philosophy class and that he would “try to stay a step ahead of you.” It also didn’t hurt that he has a 10 point grading scale…and we have take-home tests (3).
But, we also have been stuck on the argument of God’s existence for a week. That’s getting annoying. I hate conversing about religion because I have “odd” (someone actually told me that in a conversation about it) views on the subject. So…I like to sit back at see how others feel..so maybe my views don’t seem so “odd” (that’s yet to happen).

Chemisty…Dr. Patstiga is nuts. He is the epitome of NERD. And he’s been a Chem teacher for so long, the easy stuff at the beginning (right now, he’s going over simple algebra and teaching conversions) is hard to “dumb down” for him. He can’t explain things so that stupid/”inexperienced” people (me..) can understand them. I get conversions and stuff like that….but when he pulled out attempting to tell us how many significant figures are in a ratio of carbon atoms to *something else*…I knew that I was officially screwed. Also, he demands quiet. Well…for those of you who know me…you know that it is impossible for me to sit in a room for 50 minutes and not crack a joke or have an off-the-wall comment to make.
The fact that I can’t stay quiet came back to bite me in the ass the other day during lab. Yeah…let’s just say he already knows my name…well.
That’s another thing. Chem Lab. It’s Wednesdays from 1-3:50. Say it with me “fuuuuuck.” Standing up for three hours, playing with glass graduated cylinders, and pissing off my lab partner isn’t my ideal Hump Day afternoon.

Western Civilization 2. That’s right, bitches. TWO. I passed one, and decided to sign myself up for another semester of fun with Jerry Holcomb. It was really fun to learn on the second day of class that Jer is teaching a class at MA (the little Surry annex thing), too. And that I knew, like, 4 of the people in the class. Jer’s pretty ok. Show up to class, listen to his war stories (and boy, has he got some) and do the little presentation at the end of the semester. Eh, I had to take a history sequence…

Math 080...that’s right folks! I’m SLOWLY but surely working my way up to a math that will actually TRANSFER. This is the last damn math class I have to take that doesn’t mean crap come August. But this class is looking like one of the better ones. It’s not as easy as the other two classes I’ve already taken. But, the teacher is REALLY nice. And the class is SOOO laid back. I’ve never had a math class like this (well, Trig in high school…but that doesn’t really count…we didn’t do ANYTHING). We sit around for at least the first 10 minutes of class everyday and listen to this guy, Logan, tell funny stories about his car crashing into bridges, his sister’s car never having gas in it, ties (you really had to be there), and his most recent act of “quitting” smoking (but he still smokes a pack every other week.) It’s crazy. We do TONS of group work. And that’s good. Because I sit beside of pretty cool people who love to be confused with me (and make fun of the stupid girls that sit behind us [and I mean stupid..]).
Even though Mrs. Stanley-Byerly tells us that this class is pretty hard. It still seems like it could be fun.

British Lit. 2…with Thomas. Ughh. This is the third time IN A ROW that I’ve had Jon Thomas as an instructor of English. But, the important thing is that I haven’t had him for the same class three times. I love this man. He’s brilliant. He knows EVERYTHING. It’s great. And, I’ve had him so many times; I’m super comfortable with him. I can just say whatever I want to in his class, and he can pick on me, and we can just have fun with William Blake (The Bard…again, you had to have been there). I also have this class with Josh Davis, another survivor of English 112 (last semester). It’s great. We sit together and gang up on Thomas. I love it. Although the subjects that we deal with in Lit. can be a little hard (for me) to wrap my mind around sometimes, Thomas really makes it easy to ask lots of questions until I understand what the FUCK he’s talking about.

All in all, this semester is probably going to be my most challenging. But also, somewhat rewarding and fun…just make sure you ask me come May, when I’m getting ready to be done.

Thursday, January 12, 2006

Shh?

My roommate in college is going to hate me.

No kidding. It’s almost 1 am, and I’m sitting at my computer looking over notes for Lit., watching Drawn Together, singing Motion City Soundtrack and Death Cab for Cutie at the top of my lungs with all the lights on.

I take naps as soon as I get out of class at 1. I leave little messes wherever I go. My desk is always organized but very cluttered. I have a lot of shoes. My bathroom is very close to my heart (it’s going to be sooo weird to share with, like 30 other girls.) My room is never clean. Ever. I arrange things in odd ways. I hide things from myself. I hate putting away laundry..I never fold it, I just kinda let it sit.

I can’t stand quiet. I do homework and study with the t.v. on and always listen to music.

A little part of me thinks I need to change my weird ways. But the other little part of me thinks that the change will happen, so I should enjoy my odd ways until I absolutely have to change.

And this is what happens when I’m left alone during the wee hours of the morning. I end up staying awake until 2:30, listening to HIM and RENT Soundtrack. Flipping channels, attempting to talk myself into getting stuff off infomercials. I begin to think about stuff that is just plain bizarre. My imagination goes insane (and I wonder why I have such strange dreams).

Seriously. My roommate is going to smother me in my sleep one night…I’ll drive her bonkers.

Tuesday, January 10, 2006

Vincent (Starry, Starry Night)

Starry, starry night.
Paint your palette blue and grey,
Look out on a summer's day,
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul.
Shadows on the hills,
Sketch the trees and the daffodils,
Catch the breeze and the winter chills,
In colors on the snowy linen land.

Now I understand what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they did not know how.
Perhaps they'll listen now.

Starry, starry night.
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze,
Swirling clouds in violet haze,
Reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue.
Colors changing hue, morning fields of amber grain,
Weathered faces lined in pain,
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand.

Now I understand what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they did not know how.
Perhaps they'll listen now.

For they could not love you,
But still your love was true.
And when no hope was left in sight
On that starry, starry night,
You took your life, as lovers often do.
But I could have told you, Vincent,
This world was never meant for one
As beautiful as you.

Starry, starry night.
Portraits hung in empty halls,
Frameless heads on nameless walls,
With eyes that watch the world and can't forget.
Like the strangers that you've met,
The ragged men in ragged clothes,
The silver thorn of bloody rose,
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow.

Now I think I know what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they're not listening still.
Perhaps they never will...

- Don McLean

A loving classic.

Love of mine some day you will die
But I'll be close behind
I'll follow you into the dark

No blinding light or tunnels to gates of white
Just our hands clasped so tight
Waiting for the hint of a spark
If heaven and hell decide
That they both are satisfied
Illuminate the no's on their vacancy signs

If there's no one beside you
When your soul embarks
Then I'll follow you into the dark

In Catholic school as vicious as Roman rule
I got my knuckles brusied by a lady in black
And I held my toungue as she told me
"Son fear is the heart of love"
So I never went back

If heaven and hell decide
That they both are satisfied
Illuminate the no's on their vacancy signs
If there's no one beside you
When your soul embarks
Then I'll follow you into the dark

You and me have seen everything to see
From Bangkok to Calgary
And the soles of your shoes are all worn down
The time for sleep is now
It's nothing to cry about
Cause we'll hold each other soon
The blackest of rooms

If heaven and hell decide
That they both are satisfied
Illuminate the no's on their vacancy signs

If there's no one beside you
When your soul embarks
Then I'll follow you into the dark
Then I'll follow you into the dark

- Death Cab for Cutie

PARTY ON DUDES!

In Philosophy we've been talking about Socrates. But everytime I think about it, "Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure" comes to mind. And then, everytime I read "Socrates" I think in my head "So-crates."

And I secretly laugh at myself.