First of all, I just want to say that by "Internet Weather," I mean checking the weather via the internet. I don't mean the weather conditions of the internet - that'd be ridiculous. Mostly because there is no such thing. If there was such a thing as internet weather, though, nobody would have to check it because the forecast would probably be the same everyday - mostly sketchy with a high chance of identity theft.
When I wake up on the mornings of days in which I have class, I go through the same routine, which starts out with waking up and opening my laptop. I open up three tabs: Facebook, Twitter, and a Google tab. Facebook is my home page, that's why I open that one. Then I figure, "Well, I already have Facebook open...might as well check out what's happening on Twitter," (I felt like I had to justify opening those two tabs right away). In the Google tab I search "weather brookings sd," so I can dress accordingly. There is a slight problem with this strategy, though, and that is that the internet weather is almost always wrong. It's right just often enough where I go by what it says, just in case. Most mornings it'll say it's about 45° with a high of around 57° or something. "Huh, that's pretty chilly. I should wear a sweatshirt. Even when it gets to 57°, I won't be too hot." I pick out my daily attire, shower, brush my teeth, get dressed, and head out the door. As soon as I step outside I think, "Wow, 45° is a lot warmer than I remember." After walking two blocks, I quickly realize that it is not 45° like the internet said - it's probably a lot closer to 65°.
There are some days, though, when I don't believe the internet weather at all. There are some days in which the internet says it is 38° and rainy. "Rainy, huh? How rainy is it?" I think. Then I open my curtains to see that it's actually quite sunny with very few clouds. "Well, you're 0 for 1 so far, internet," I sometimes-audibly state. Then I decide it's probably 60° and not 38°. These days fluster me a little bit because, then, I have to decide for myself what I will wear. It's a real gamble.
Just last week, I came up with a fantastic new strategy for weather checking. Now, after I wake up, I step outside. You know, where the weather is. Amazingly, this strategy works a lot more effectively. Go figure, eh?
Friday, April 27, 2012
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
That Awkward Moment (The Anatomy Of "How Are You?")
I'm a fairly awkward person. Not in the way you're thinking, though, probably. You're probably thinking that I make situations awkward. While that is very much true, that's not why I consider myself awkward. Well, that's not the only reason why I consider myself awkward. For some reason, I seem to always find myself in awkward situations. I've decided that could be attributed to coincidence only so much, leaving me to believe that it happens because I'm awkward. It also happens because I over think just about everything, and there are certain things that seem completely harmless until you over think them.
The best example of this happening is when someone asks me how I'm doing, or how I am. I over think it every time. If you've ever talked to me and asked, "How are you?" odds are high that I replied with either, "Pretty good," or, "Not too bad." Those are my standard responses. Sometimes, if things aren't that great, I'll answer with a, "Not too bad." The emphasis on "too" reveals that I'm not spectacular. That's only on very special occasions - when I really feel like venting.
"Joe, how could you possibly over think the question, 'How are you?'" you may or may not be thinking. Well, you see, if I say, "Not so great," or, "Bad," I feel like whoever asked was just being polite; they don't really care how I feel. Or, they don't care enough to listen to me complain about it. If I say, "Bad," I think they think, "Oh, great. Here's Joe with another problem," which is weird, because I don't have that many problems. Heh, okay, I have "problems," but I don't have problems. You know.
On the flip side, if I reply to, "How are you?" with something like, "Fantastic!" or "Terrific!" I feel like the person will think I'm bragging. Especially if they answered that question first with a, "I'm alright," or whatever. Like, I think they'd interpret my answer as if I'd said, "Oh, you're just fine? Well sucks to be you, doesn't it?! I'm phenomenal. Everything in my life is perfect and way better than yours." Consequently, I'll gently lead into whatever it is that is making me so great. The person will ask, "How are you?" and I'll say, "Oh, I'm pretty good. Hey, guess what! I found a jillion dollar bill in my sock this morning! It was the craziest thing! I haven't even worn that sock in 12 years!" That doesn't seem like very good logic, though, because my way seems more braggish.
I think I'll just stop thinking about it and answer the question truthfully from now on:
"How are you?"
"Awkward..."
The best example of this happening is when someone asks me how I'm doing, or how I am. I over think it every time. If you've ever talked to me and asked, "How are you?" odds are high that I replied with either, "Pretty good," or, "Not too bad." Those are my standard responses. Sometimes, if things aren't that great, I'll answer with a, "Not too bad." The emphasis on "too" reveals that I'm not spectacular. That's only on very special occasions - when I really feel like venting.
"Joe, how could you possibly over think the question, 'How are you?'" you may or may not be thinking. Well, you see, if I say, "Not so great," or, "Bad," I feel like whoever asked was just being polite; they don't really care how I feel. Or, they don't care enough to listen to me complain about it. If I say, "Bad," I think they think, "Oh, great. Here's Joe with another problem," which is weird, because I don't have that many problems. Heh, okay, I have "problems," but I don't have problems. You know.
On the flip side, if I reply to, "How are you?" with something like, "Fantastic!" or "Terrific!" I feel like the person will think I'm bragging. Especially if they answered that question first with a, "I'm alright," or whatever. Like, I think they'd interpret my answer as if I'd said, "Oh, you're just fine? Well sucks to be you, doesn't it?! I'm phenomenal. Everything in my life is perfect and way better than yours." Consequently, I'll gently lead into whatever it is that is making me so great. The person will ask, "How are you?" and I'll say, "Oh, I'm pretty good. Hey, guess what! I found a jillion dollar bill in my sock this morning! It was the craziest thing! I haven't even worn that sock in 12 years!" That doesn't seem like very good logic, though, because my way seems more braggish.
I think I'll just stop thinking about it and answer the question truthfully from now on:
"How are you?"
"Awkward..."
Monday, April 23, 2012
Elementary Retreat At GLBC
This last weekend, I helped out with an elementary retreat at Green Lake Bible Camp. I was really excited, because I've been yearning for camp since September. However, I had no idea what the retreat actually was. Early last week, Danielle, one of my friends who is on the summer staff for camp, told me I should help out, because they needed help and I'd be good at it. I agreed. Throughout the week, I found out a little bit more about the retreat, such as when I have to be there, that they needed a guitar player and more people to help, and that's actually all I found out. It dawned on me that I might have to be the guitar player. That was a little unnerving because my confidence level regarding my guitar proficiency is at or near zero. To ensure that I could not be the guitar player, I "forgot" to bring my guitar. However, when we were going over the schedule and creating the song list for the weekend, Linnae, the program director, asked who could play guitar. "You can, can't you?" I asked her. She said she could fake it. I'm not entirely sure what that means in regards to playing guitar. Anyway, she agreed to be the guitar player, I guess, but when she looked at the chords for one of the songs, she became flustered. "An E-slide? What's that?"
"E-slide? That's easy. You just play an E higher up on the neck," I answered. As soon as those words left my mouth, I immediately regretted it. Everyone turned their heads towards me, and I realized that I had just been named the guitar player. Since I didn't bring mine, we had to find a guitar. We found one (it was pretty nice, actually - nicer than mine, anyway) but we couldn't find a pick or a capo. A couple of the songs that we chose needed a capo, and didn't sound very good without one, so we sang those a cappella. It turns out that those songs sound horrible a cappella - lesson learned. Since we couldn't find a pick, I had to strum with my fingers. I'm horrible at strumming with my fingers. After the last song session, my fingers were bleeding.
As the kids were showing up, we would take them outside so they could play. They had some kickballs to play with, which is really all you need to entertain young children. "The only rule is that you do not kick or throw the balls towards the lake," I announced. Two minutes later, I was up to my thighs in lake water, retrieving a rogue ball. I wouldn't have had much of a problem with this, except that I could only roll my pants up to my knees.
That night, I couldn't sleep. My kids could sleep. That's actually why I couldn't sleep. One of my kids was snoring extremely loudly. That kept me up. Like any teenager, I started to text people, telling them I couldn't slip. Then I remembered I'm not actually a teenager, but I was too tired to feel shame. Eventually, the kid stopped snoring, and I drifted off into a peaceful sleep. That is, until about half an hour later, when I woke to the sound of a crying child. I went over to where it was coming from and found one of my kids on the floor. "What happened?" I asked.
"I fell out of my bed," he sniffled. This boy had been on the top bunk.
"What?! Are you okay?!" He didn't answer - he just cried. "Can you come out to the hallway with me?" I asked.
He tried to stand up, but couldn't. "No," he replied. Oh. He can't get up. That's not good at all. At this point I was thinking that he broke something. It was 1:00 in the morning, so the nurse wasn't there. I was on the verge of panicking. Then I thought he'd have been crying louder had he actually broken something. Remembering that one has to risk it to get the biscuit, I said, "I need you to come out into the hallway with me. I'll carry you if you can't walk." He stood right up and followed me into the hallway. "How long were you laying there?" I asked.
"A long time." Well, that wasn't true, because I had only fallen asleep a half hour ago.
"Okay, you're holding your side - does anywhere else hurt?"
"No, just my side."
"Alright, do you want a drink of water?" I led him over to the water fountain and he took a drink. "Do you want to sit for a little bit, until you feel better?" I asked.
"Yeah." Not even a minute later, he stopped crying and said he felt better. I asked if he was sure and he said he was. I led him back to our room and moved his stuff to a bottom bunk. He got into bed, and I got back into mine, and he started to cry again. I waited about five minutes before I went over to his bed. "Are you sure you're feeling better?"
"Yeah."
"Oh, well, alright then. Goodnight." He kept crying for fifteen more minutes, and then fell asleep. So, at about 1:30, I finally fell asleep for the night. By 6:45, all of my kids were awake and talking to each other. Then, Isaac's cabin (Isaac was another counselor) burst into my room wielding pillows. It was a sneak attack, and my cabin had no chance. After they left, I gathered my kids and devised a counterattack. We stormed into Isaac's room, but they weren't there. "Okay, guys, hide. We'll wait for them to come back, and then ambush them!" A few minutes later, Isaac came back, but not his cabin. He told us that their room was too hot, and they moved into a different room. I was disappointed, because I was pretty proud of my ambush-counterattack strategy, but we stormed into the other room to satisfy my kids' longing for revenge. Isaac's cabin was quick to react, though, fending off our forces. I called for a retreat, and we fled back to our room, waking up the other cabin on our floor. I've decided that military strategist is not a career I should pursue.
Also, there were a few fantastic quotes by kids from the weekend. These two are the best. The first is taken way out of context, so don't judge me or my fellow counselors.
"Somebody please kill me!"
"Nobody step on my sweatshirt! My glasses are in there and they are doing some funky things."
"E-slide? That's easy. You just play an E higher up on the neck," I answered. As soon as those words left my mouth, I immediately regretted it. Everyone turned their heads towards me, and I realized that I had just been named the guitar player. Since I didn't bring mine, we had to find a guitar. We found one (it was pretty nice, actually - nicer than mine, anyway) but we couldn't find a pick or a capo. A couple of the songs that we chose needed a capo, and didn't sound very good without one, so we sang those a cappella. It turns out that those songs sound horrible a cappella - lesson learned. Since we couldn't find a pick, I had to strum with my fingers. I'm horrible at strumming with my fingers. After the last song session, my fingers were bleeding.
As the kids were showing up, we would take them outside so they could play. They had some kickballs to play with, which is really all you need to entertain young children. "The only rule is that you do not kick or throw the balls towards the lake," I announced. Two minutes later, I was up to my thighs in lake water, retrieving a rogue ball. I wouldn't have had much of a problem with this, except that I could only roll my pants up to my knees.
That night, I couldn't sleep. My kids could sleep. That's actually why I couldn't sleep. One of my kids was snoring extremely loudly. That kept me up. Like any teenager, I started to text people, telling them I couldn't slip. Then I remembered I'm not actually a teenager, but I was too tired to feel shame. Eventually, the kid stopped snoring, and I drifted off into a peaceful sleep. That is, until about half an hour later, when I woke to the sound of a crying child. I went over to where it was coming from and found one of my kids on the floor. "What happened?" I asked.
"I fell out of my bed," he sniffled. This boy had been on the top bunk.
"What?! Are you okay?!" He didn't answer - he just cried. "Can you come out to the hallway with me?" I asked.
He tried to stand up, but couldn't. "No," he replied. Oh. He can't get up. That's not good at all. At this point I was thinking that he broke something. It was 1:00 in the morning, so the nurse wasn't there. I was on the verge of panicking. Then I thought he'd have been crying louder had he actually broken something. Remembering that one has to risk it to get the biscuit, I said, "I need you to come out into the hallway with me. I'll carry you if you can't walk." He stood right up and followed me into the hallway. "How long were you laying there?" I asked.
"A long time." Well, that wasn't true, because I had only fallen asleep a half hour ago.
"Okay, you're holding your side - does anywhere else hurt?"
"No, just my side."
"Alright, do you want a drink of water?" I led him over to the water fountain and he took a drink. "Do you want to sit for a little bit, until you feel better?" I asked.
"Yeah." Not even a minute later, he stopped crying and said he felt better. I asked if he was sure and he said he was. I led him back to our room and moved his stuff to a bottom bunk. He got into bed, and I got back into mine, and he started to cry again. I waited about five minutes before I went over to his bed. "Are you sure you're feeling better?"
"Yeah."
"Oh, well, alright then. Goodnight." He kept crying for fifteen more minutes, and then fell asleep. So, at about 1:30, I finally fell asleep for the night. By 6:45, all of my kids were awake and talking to each other. Then, Isaac's cabin (Isaac was another counselor) burst into my room wielding pillows. It was a sneak attack, and my cabin had no chance. After they left, I gathered my kids and devised a counterattack. We stormed into Isaac's room, but they weren't there. "Okay, guys, hide. We'll wait for them to come back, and then ambush them!" A few minutes later, Isaac came back, but not his cabin. He told us that their room was too hot, and they moved into a different room. I was disappointed, because I was pretty proud of my ambush-counterattack strategy, but we stormed into the other room to satisfy my kids' longing for revenge. Isaac's cabin was quick to react, though, fending off our forces. I called for a retreat, and we fled back to our room, waking up the other cabin on our floor. I've decided that military strategist is not a career I should pursue.
Also, there were a few fantastic quotes by kids from the weekend. These two are the best. The first is taken way out of context, so don't judge me or my fellow counselors.
"Somebody please kill me!"
"Nobody step on my sweatshirt! My glasses are in there and they are doing some funky things."
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
Emotionally Intense
I have a problem. Okay, I have a few problems. Okay, I have a plethora of problems, but I'm only going to write about one. For now, anyway. This problem I have that I'm writing about is that I get way too emotionally involved in forms of entertainment: movies, tv shows, books, I'm pretty sure I got pretty intense emotionally during a video game or two. Don't judge me.
There are two items that really stick out in my mind that had me emotionally entranced. The first was a few months ago when I was binge-watching How I Met Your Mother. A lot of times I would get saturated with emotion from watching that show, but I remember one time I got really mad at Barney (I'm not going to say the reason, in case some of you are watching and haven't gotten to this point yet. No spoilers from this guy!). I was literally yelling at my laptop, throwing soft objects in my room. I took a week long hiatus from watching the show. I just couldn't handle it. Another time - I can't really remember if this episode is before or after the Barney-throwing-me-into-a-frenzy episode - I cried. That's the first time I cried in three years, and it was because of a tv show. Remember before how I said no spoilers? Well, spoiler alert. It was the episode where Marshall's dad died. Marshall's my favie, and to see him in that situation, well, it broke my very-much-not-gay heart. I took another week long break from the show so I could recover.
The second item that triggered my emotions was The Hunger Games trilogy. I don't read many books, but when I do, I get into it. Just the other day I finished the third book, and that, itself, was enough to make me all sad. However, there were two instances where my emotional cup overflowed. Okay, I'm not that guy who's just going to flood this post with spoilers, so I'm not going to say what happened. Both instances were in the third book, though, I will say that. One made me really sad, and though I didn't have to fight back any tears, I did have to take a break for a few hours to regain my composure. The second instance just made me so flabbergasted, I couldn't think right about anything. Instead of reading on, like a normal person, I stopped and started pacing around my room trying to make sense of what had just happened. It was pretty intense - emotionally intense.
There are two items that really stick out in my mind that had me emotionally entranced. The first was a few months ago when I was binge-watching How I Met Your Mother. A lot of times I would get saturated with emotion from watching that show, but I remember one time I got really mad at Barney (I'm not going to say the reason, in case some of you are watching and haven't gotten to this point yet. No spoilers from this guy!). I was literally yelling at my laptop, throwing soft objects in my room. I took a week long hiatus from watching the show. I just couldn't handle it. Another time - I can't really remember if this episode is before or after the Barney-throwing-me-into-a-frenzy episode - I cried. That's the first time I cried in three years, and it was because of a tv show. Remember before how I said no spoilers? Well, spoiler alert. It was the episode where Marshall's dad died. Marshall's my favie, and to see him in that situation, well, it broke my very-much-not-gay heart. I took another week long break from the show so I could recover.
The second item that triggered my emotions was The Hunger Games trilogy. I don't read many books, but when I do, I get into it. Just the other day I finished the third book, and that, itself, was enough to make me all sad. However, there were two instances where my emotional cup overflowed. Okay, I'm not that guy who's just going to flood this post with spoilers, so I'm not going to say what happened. Both instances were in the third book, though, I will say that. One made me really sad, and though I didn't have to fight back any tears, I did have to take a break for a few hours to regain my composure. The second instance just made me so flabbergasted, I couldn't think right about anything. Instead of reading on, like a normal person, I stopped and started pacing around my room trying to make sense of what had just happened. It was pretty intense - emotionally intense.
Saturday, April 14, 2012
Running Errands
I don't know of anyone that truly enjoys running errands. In that sense, I am a normal person. I hate running errands. The simple thought of going grocery shopping has kept me hungry for hours on some days. Just the phrase, "running errands" - can't I just walk errands? Or sleep errands? Maybe do nothing and have the errands just kind of take care of themselves? No, we have to run errands, which, in itself, suggests the whole process will be tiring and I'll just want to be dead afterwards. This whole week I'd been dreading the day when I would finally give in and go to the grocery store. During the week, I made the decision to go on Friday. I also decided that I needed a haircut. "I guess I'll do that on Friday, too! Then I'll just have to make one trip." That's some pretty good planning, yeah? Well, it seemed like a great idea at the time because I didn't have to do anything until Friday. But then Friday came, and my self-promise of running errands loomed over me from the moment I woke up. Everything I did (shower, eat, vegetate) yesterday had much less joy to it, because I knew I'd have to go do stuff. And not just any stuff - errand stuff, which is the worst kind of stuff. It was even hard to work up the motivation to shower. Once I showered, I knew I'd have no excuse to not go run my errands. So, I wasted a few hours procrastinating taking a shower. It was all downhill from there.
After my shower, I got dressed very slowly. Sadly, no matter how slowly one gets dressed, it's still only going to take about a minute. For some reason I anticipated that to take an hour or two...or twelve. After I finally got dressed, I went to the kitchen. Here, I was faced with quite the dillema - I wanted to take a lot of time making food, but I didn't want to make food that took a lot of time to make. I decided to eat leftovers. My laziness had lost this round. Or did it win? I'm not sure. After I washed my dishes, I let out a huge sigh because I knew it was time. I grabbed my keys and my wallet, put on my shoes, and left my house. Out of habit, I checked the mail. To my surprise there was something for me! And it was from the Minnesota State Tax Place Office...Thing! It was my state tax refund! I was pretty stoked. I came back in,opened it up, and decided I should probably go ahead and deposit that right away. It took me a few seconds to realize that meant adding another errand to my already-too-long-for-my-liking list. This upped the total to three errands I had to run. That disappointment quickly canceled out the excitement of receiving my refund. Well, that and the fact that my refund wasn't even $50. A little dejected, I went out the door again to complete my errands.
I ended up getting back to my house about half an hour later, which is pretty impressive for going to the bank, grocery shopping, and getting a haircut. You could say I sprinted my errands. You could say that, if you wanted to lose all of your friends.
After my shower, I got dressed very slowly. Sadly, no matter how slowly one gets dressed, it's still only going to take about a minute. For some reason I anticipated that to take an hour or two...or twelve. After I finally got dressed, I went to the kitchen. Here, I was faced with quite the dillema - I wanted to take a lot of time making food, but I didn't want to make food that took a lot of time to make. I decided to eat leftovers. My laziness had lost this round. Or did it win? I'm not sure. After I washed my dishes, I let out a huge sigh because I knew it was time. I grabbed my keys and my wallet, put on my shoes, and left my house. Out of habit, I checked the mail. To my surprise there was something for me! And it was from the Minnesota State Tax Place Office...Thing! It was my state tax refund! I was pretty stoked. I came back in,opened it up, and decided I should probably go ahead and deposit that right away. It took me a few seconds to realize that meant adding another errand to my already-too-long-for-my-liking list. This upped the total to three errands I had to run. That disappointment quickly canceled out the excitement of receiving my refund. Well, that and the fact that my refund wasn't even $50. A little dejected, I went out the door again to complete my errands.
I ended up getting back to my house about half an hour later, which is pretty impressive for going to the bank, grocery shopping, and getting a haircut. You could say I sprinted my errands. You could say that, if you wanted to lose all of your friends.
Friday, April 13, 2012
Yo No Estoy Aquí (Spanishly Illiterate)
"I am not here," - that is to what the title translates. I think. I don't really know - I'm not exactly fluent in Spanish. Regardless, that is to what I want the title to translate, so that's good enough. In Spanish class, I have one goal, and that is to not be noticed. However, the professor does a really good job of making sure he calls on everybody. It's unfortunate, because I hate participating in class. I hate participating in every class, not just Spanish, but I hate participating in Spanish the most, because I don't think I've ever been sure of myself when saying something in Spanish. Except "Me gusta baloncesto," which means "Basketball is pleasing to me," or "I like basketball," (It's literal translation is "Basketball is pleasing to me," but nobody who speaks English talks like that, so "I like Basketball" is how it is translated (I'm kind of making that up because, since this deals with Spanish, I'm very unsure)). Like I said, despite my best efforts to not be noticed, I still get called on to do things. Not just by the professor, either. My attempts at going unnoticed are twofold: don't be noticed by the professor, and don't be noticed by the rest of the class. However, I'm clearly failing, because just this week we were doing an activity where a student would have to act out a verb (verbs that I did not know, so I did not participate). The student who correctly identifies the verb "gets" to go act out the next one. "Gets" is in quotes because I don't think anyone was excited to go act out verbs. Anyway, one student correctly identified two verbs. After the second one, he got to choose who would go next. Guess who he chose. Yup. This guy. I didn't even know that kid knew my name. Clearly I need to try harder to be less noticed.
I know you may be thinking, "Participation is good, Joe - you get points and your professor will like you more," and if you weren't, now you are. Oh, really? Is it still a good idea to participate if you have no idea how to participate? I mean, I know how to participate, but I have no idea how I'm participating. You know what I mean? Like, say I went to go play basketball, and when I got the ball, I punted it - I was participating, but I did not get any points and no one else liked me more. That's kind of what it's like when I participate in Spanish. I get asked a question and then stare blankly and say, "Si...?" Sometimes I don't even do that. About 1/3 of the way through the question I'll just give up. I realize that there's no way the question is going to be any easier to comprehend so I stop trying, and when it's over I just say, "I don't really know what you said." Then I feel bad because the rest of the class translates for me. Maybe that's how that one kid knew who I was - I'm just the guy who has no business getting a B in Spanish 102. Which I totally am getting, by the way. That's kind of like an illiterate guy pulling a B in English. I am Spanishly illiterate.
I know you may be thinking, "Participation is good, Joe - you get points and your professor will like you more," and if you weren't, now you are. Oh, really? Is it still a good idea to participate if you have no idea how to participate? I mean, I know how to participate, but I have no idea how I'm participating. You know what I mean? Like, say I went to go play basketball, and when I got the ball, I punted it - I was participating, but I did not get any points and no one else liked me more. That's kind of what it's like when I participate in Spanish. I get asked a question and then stare blankly and say, "Si...?" Sometimes I don't even do that. About 1/3 of the way through the question I'll just give up. I realize that there's no way the question is going to be any easier to comprehend so I stop trying, and when it's over I just say, "I don't really know what you said." Then I feel bad because the rest of the class translates for me. Maybe that's how that one kid knew who I was - I'm just the guy who has no business getting a B in Spanish 102. Which I totally am getting, by the way. That's kind of like an illiterate guy pulling a B in English. I am Spanishly illiterate.
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Cancelled Class
Today is Wednesday. That means I have Bio Lab today. I woke up, showered, got dressed, etc, and went to lab. There were only three people there. Lab wasn't cancelled, but it turns out that this week is lab review week! That's weird, because I remember when my lab instructor told me the schedule for the rest of the semester I thought, "Well that's stupid. Lab review should be during the week where we don't have classes on Monday because then the people who have lab on Monday wouldn't miss lab that week." Apparently, that's what the schedule actually is and now I'm the stupid one. Oh well. That's definitely not the first time I misinterpreted something.
When I left the lab, I realized that I had two hours of time I didn't think I'd have. I immediately began planning a ton of things for me to do. I always do this when a class gets cancelled (or I misinterpret the schedule and show up when there isn't any class). I never accomplish all of the things I say I will. I usually never accomplish more than two things, actually. Usually I waste all of my unexpected free time on the internet. It's not really a big deal, though, because the things I put on my list are very mundane, like drink choco milk, look to see if I have bread, brush my teeth again. You know, that kind of stuff. Today, my list was update my iPod, change my clothes because the internet weather lied to me and said it was only 36° when, actually, it's like 50°, put my clean laundry away, eat, charge my phone, write this. So far, this is the only thing I've accomplished, and, realistically, I'll probably only tackle the "eat" part of my list and call it quits.
When I left the lab, I realized that I had two hours of time I didn't think I'd have. I immediately began planning a ton of things for me to do. I always do this when a class gets cancelled (or I misinterpret the schedule and show up when there isn't any class). I never accomplish all of the things I say I will. I usually never accomplish more than two things, actually. Usually I waste all of my unexpected free time on the internet. It's not really a big deal, though, because the things I put on my list are very mundane, like drink choco milk, look to see if I have bread, brush my teeth again. You know, that kind of stuff. Today, my list was update my iPod, change my clothes because the internet weather lied to me and said it was only 36° when, actually, it's like 50°, put my clean laundry away, eat, charge my phone, write this. So far, this is the only thing I've accomplished, and, realistically, I'll probably only tackle the "eat" part of my list and call it quits.
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
Life Goals
I've come to the conclusion that I'm not a good adult yet. I know that some of you may not even classify me as an adult, but I do, and I'm not really good at being one. I feel like good adults have real life goals such as, but not limited to: getting a job that pays a certain amount of money each year, retiring at the age of 65, buying a house, buying a car, etc. I don't have any of those goals at this point in my life. However, I do have some life goals, and I'm willing to share them with you. My life goals, in no particular order, are:
1. Ride an ostrich
1. Ride an ostrich
I said these are in no particular order, but this one is definitely first on the priority list. I don't know what gave me the idea to have this as a goal, but it has been since my freshman year of college, making it the oldest life goal I have. Just the other night I had a dream that I visited an ostrich ranch that had cowboys riding on ostriches. It looked amazing. Then one cowpoke offered to let me ride his ostrich (if you know what I mean (I mean ostrich. Like the flightless bird)). It was, in fact, amazing. That was the best dream I ever had, and added to my desire to one day ride an ostrich.
2. Eat at a Sonic.
2. Eat at a Sonic.
I believe that there is only one Sonic restaurant in the whole state of Minnesota, and probably zero in South Dakota. I haven't done any research on this, but I've never seen one in my life. I have been told, though, that there is one in Minnesota, and my roommate has eaten there. They have pretty good commercials, entertainment-wise, and every single food item they advertise looks delicious. I want to eat there. I will eat there. Some day...
3. Be a Sam's Club member
3. Be a Sam's Club member
Have you ever been to a Sam's Club? Bulk items as far as the eye can see in that place. Bulk is definitely the best way to buy. If I was a member, I'd get discounts. I'd only have to go grocery shopping once a semester! I'd just load up on mandarin oranges, soups, beans, and anything else that is non-perishable. Even after college, when semester isn't even really a word anymore, it'd be great to be a Sam's Club member. Shopping twice - maybe thrice - a year? Yeah, I could dig that.
4. Get two beagles - one male, one female - and name them Flapjack and Pancake
This goal was altered a few weeks ago. I told my roommate that one of my life goals was to get a beagle and name it Pancake. He asked if this was a girl's name or a boy's name. I said it could be either, and he laughed and suggested Flapjack as a name. "AWWWWW YEAH! I'M GONNA GET TWO BEAGLES AND NAME THE BOY FLAPJACK AND THE GIRL PANCAKE!" If you're wondering, "Why Pancake?" just google an image of a beagle, and in your head refer to it as Pancake. It makes sense. One of my friends, Sarah Glynn, was recently dog sitting a beagle. She was vehemently opposed to the name Pancake, so I told her, "Try calling the dog you're dog sitting Pancake. I bet it'll respond." Guess what - it did. Beagles were meant to be named Pancake, and since flapjack is another word for pancake it makes sense to name a boy beagle Flapjack.
5. Be successful in my career/have a family. And stuff
Obviously, in my life, I want to be successful in my career. I also want to start a family. Not really much else to elaborate on, here.
6. Remember the life goal that I already accomplished
There was another life goal that I had, but I accomplished it. The problem is that I can't remember what that goal was. This inability to remember such an important moment is frustrating me to no end. I was almost brought to tears last night from frustration, and I had a very restless night of sleep. For the life of me I cannot remember what that goal was. I've never tried so hard to remember something. The sense of failure only adds to the frustration. So, my newest life goal is to remember what that other life goal was that I already accomplished.
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