Saturday, December 10, 2005

I'm Not Like That

Tonight is my last night at school until the middle of January. I still can't believe how long our winter breaks are. I was done Wednesday the 7th and won't start up again until January 18th. Christ, I remember in grammar school and high school we got about 2 weeks off, now its almost six. Not that I mind. Although this is my last winter break. I'm going to cry.

I was talking to my mom the other day and told her I got a B on the big research paper I wrote. She asked, "Is that good, or did you want to do better?" Who does she think she's talking to? Of course I was satisfied with a B. When have I ever not been? I am the farthest thing from an overachiever that you can possibley be. I've never gotten upset over a grade, or been mad I didn't do better. Maybe I have my parents to thank for that, they never put a big emphasis on grades or pressured us to get A's. As long as we were doing fine, that was cool with them. So why my mom deciedes to now ask me if I'm happy with a B, I'll never know. I mean I've called her excited over a C before. I knew she never listened to me when I spoke.

Last night Emily and I went out to the bar, and got trashed even though I had "work" (which meant reading 3 newspapers, 4 magazines and pitying myself for feeling so shitty) at 9 am. Of course, of course I don't go out Thursday (thanks a lot for getting in a car accident and ruining my night Emily, you inconsiderate bitch. Love you!) when I wouldn't have work until 1 pm Friday, I go out Friday night when I have work at 9 am Saturday. Smart decisions have never been my forte. Anyways, I was wearing heels (ok, so they're barely an inch, but I'm a giant already, so I don't need any help in the height department) and had flashbacks of the night last year when I lost my shoes in the snow. (It's the 2nd paragraph. Not that anyone's going to click on it, I'm still just proud of myself for knowing how to do those links.) It still boggles me to this day that I never thought of carrying my shoes in my hands instead of just leaving them in the snow. I honestly thought of that about 2 months later and was like "Oh. Maybe I should have done that."

Last night during halftime at the Bulls game they retired Scottie Pippen's number. A bunch of other old Bulls players were there, and because I'm a giantass pussy, it made me cry remembering how good the Bulls used to be. I was a fucking Bulls FANATIC when I was younger. I knew stats, watched every game, had my awesome Bulls starter jacket, subscribed to Sports Illustrated for Kids, sent Michael Jordan a card when his dad died (I got a letter back, of course just the one they must have sent everyone, but that letter was one of my prized possesions for years. I still have it) and even wanted to paint my room to look like the inside of Chicago Stadium for a time. Thanks for not letting me do that Mom. I watched Johnny Kerr announce the starting lineup I felt like shit for not knowing anyone's name. I didn't even know the coaches name. I'm totally reading too much into this, but I guess seeing Scottie Pippen, MJ, Phil Jackson and even Horace Grant made me nostalgic for my childhood. Or for a good Bulls team. Jay Mariotti summed it up (does anyone watch Around the Horn?) when he said,
"Pippen and his partners in NBA championship crime -- Jordan with a slight belly, Jackson still coaching the Lakers for reasons I don't understand, a bandana-wrapped Dennis Rodman ready for a night in the clubs, Horace Grant without the goggles, Toni Kukoc and so many more -- were a sight for nostalgic eyes as No. 33 was lowered into the United Center rafters."

Ok, maybe not summed it up, but agreed with me on the nostalgic factor. Same thing.

Last two sport things: the Sox signed Paulie Konerko for 5 more years, praise the lord. It sucks we had to trade Aaron Rowand for Jim Thome though. We still have our pitching inact though. Repeat 2006? Fuck yeah bitch.

Rex Grossman might quarterback for Orton this Sunday against the Steelers. And thank god for that. I don't want to have to look at Orton's ugly ass beard anymore. There should be a "No touching" rule for Rex though; if one guy hits him he'll be gone for the rest of the season. Again.

Sorry, I should have made my last post for awhile more exciting, but what are you gonna do. I'll post over break, but not very often; the basement is too goddamn cold. Goodbye bed that's long enough for me, being able to walk around sans socks, having a non-busy job, fast internet connection, awesome Dylan posters, good music on my computer and favoritest roommate. Hello Brother Bear, other bestest friend, chores, parent's liquor cabinet, being able to drive and being broke because I owe my mom 3 billion dollars. Yay.

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