Monday, March 06, 2006

...And That Was The Last Time I Ever Asked My Brother For A Title

On Thursday I met a 44 year old gay computer science professor that teaches here at Northern, at the bar. Forty-four year old gay computer science teachers buy you JaegerBombs and for that reason, they are my favorite. Then I found out he spelled his name Geoffrey. If there was one variation of a spelling of a name I hate the most, I mean if I HAD to choose, it would be Geoffrey instead of Jeffrey. It's pronounced "Ge-off", not Jeff, and that's why your name sucks ass.

Somehow on Saturday night I pulled a back muscle or some shit, and I look like a goddamn idiot trying to do anything. Is this what it's like to be old? Because I'm 21. Not 85. Twenty-one. I shouldn't be pulling back muscles yet. I never realize how much I drop things until bending over to pick them up becomes a 5 minute process. Getting ready for work took me 20 minute when it usually only takes me about 8. Yesterday it was pretty nice out, so I figured I'd be able to wear flip-flops again and save myself the ordeal of putting on socks and shoes. I pull back the curtains to discover 2 inches of snow on the ground. I know what you're all thinking, "Could her life possibly get any worse?" THEN, if you can believe this, Jennifer Gardner trips at the Oscars BUT DOESN'T FALL. IF I get pleasure out of nothing else, it's seeing people fall. Thank you Jennifer, for giving my bad day a chance to redeem itself and failing miserably.

Since graduation is getting so close, I have a couple of last things I need to do before getting out of here. One was to take a test hungover. I have no idea what the rest of them are, but mission accomplished on that one Friday. It totally helped that I hadn't studied at all and needed to throw up for the last 10 minutes I was there. On the bright side though, at least I woke up to take it at all. The glass is always half full for me.

I go home for Spring Break this Friday and I'm overly excited about it. I haven't been home since coming back here for the semester around January 14th and can't wait to see my parents, Keri and my other friends who still live at home (that'll be me come May 13th! Yay!). Friday night is Russian Night with Stalin, Vladimir and Rasputin, also known around here as Dad, Keri and Mom and Sunday is the Southside Irish Parade. WHICH I AM LEGAL FOR THIS YEAR. Being 21 will never get old to me. Except when I actually do get old. But that's still like 4 years away. So um, those are my only plans, but still they are plans and they are goddamn good plans.

Thanks for the great advice on my never ending bladder. It's too bad I don't have a prostate (so what if I had to ask Keri to make sure girls don't have prostates? SO WHAT?), is no chance I'm pregnant, the moon didn't move all night (really!), I don't have an extra hole (that I'm aware of)and I'm pretty sure having 4 beers isn't worthy of a comparison to a fish, or else I'd have my question answered! I always go pee a lot when I drink beer, coffee or tea. For me 1 drink equals 3 pees. I mean it's just simple math when you get down to it. And I will stop talking about my bathroom habits right now.

I always think I have nothing to write about, and then I come up with such great, mind-blowing, earth shattering topics. My goal here is to really make everybody think. How I manage to do it I'll never understand.

5 comments:

J O'Dizz said...

not only did you mention my birthday in here, but also me in the title. also, the title I gave would have been a lot better. you said to say whatever came to my head first and for some reason that was it. also, if you don't want to brag about being home for the parade that would be great. I'm going to have to take it upon myself to make sure akronians and ohioans alike celebrate st. patty's day with as much vigor as people on da south side do.

HMT said...

my boss' name is Geoff.

His parents are british, what are ya gonna do?

keri said...

my soviet friend,
i was in class today thinking about our up and coming russian night, and decided we have to wear red. And when making reference to anyone, we have to say "that commie bastard." oh, and burn all of our fields so that the german invaders starve and feeze to death. you know, the usual.
from one commie bastard to another,
vladdie


ps, my word verification is: tifxosov... sounds slightly russian

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