The Nile is drying up, famine and pestilence are on the way, and there are too many old people on the planet. It all boils down to WE’RE DOOMED.
Have a pleasant day!
Good news: I passed my exam. Bad news: I scream everytime a door opens or closes. February 5, 2010
‘Twas an average Thursday night and I was settling down to study for my Chinese exam when Roommate suggested we rent a movie.
“Sure,” says I. “Let’s get something light and comedic.”
30 minutes later we were popping in ”Paranormal Activity.”
I do not do scary movies. The creatures from “The Village” have left me permanently scarred with an aversion toward hooded cloaks and the color red, I’ve never watched “The Sixth Sense,” and the trailers alone for “The Grudge 2″ made me want to cry.
I begged Roommate to get anything but that movie. “Imagine That”? Sure. I can stomach a little Eddie Murphy now and then. “The Proposal”? Why not. It’s been a while since I’ve given in to viewing the latest ridiculous rom-com. “Princess Protection Program”? Absolutely! Anything to keep me from losing sleep and jumping everytime I hear the neighbor’s creaky floor.
But my pleas were ignored, as was my Chinese textbook as I inched closer to Roommate and our spooky-movie-loving friend Moolina. (Why do all my friends have such bizarre names?)
Oh I’ll admit, I laughed through the first 45 minutes of the film. A home video picking up a few faint thudding noises? Please. I almost felt demeaned having to sit through such nonsense.
What a fool I was. Girl going into zombie mode + demon voice +crawling scene near the end = no zzz’s for me. I barely moved all night and dared not look at my phone lest it say 3:15 a.m. For those of you who haven’t seen it, the alternate ending is none too cheery either.
I need to go purchase a nightlight now, so I bid you adieu.
Operation Annagetyouracttogether commencing in 3…2…1… February 1, 2010
Step 1: Rebuild music collection from the ground up. This time-consuming task is sure to take a toll on some of my quiz grades this week, but is necessary if I’m ever going to succeed at steps 2 and 3.
Step 2: Clean room.
Step 3: Do laundry.
Step 4: Catch up on homework.
Guess what came in the mail last week :) January 29, 2010
I’ll give you a hint: it’s something J.R.R. Tolkein would have appreciated.
Well, hello there, Clive Staples! You too?
What ho, what ho, what ho! P.G. Wodehouse!
And of course, another inspiration of mine:
Now, if they would just smooth out all the kinks in the whole time-travel thing I could go back and feel right at home at an Inklings meeting. Or become bffs with Sherlock Holmes.
(Many thanks to Monkey Boi for being willing to do an impromptu photoshoot!)
My Life is Awkward. January 28, 2010
A few nights ago I was walking down my stairs with a bowl of granola in hand. (We all know this can’t go anywhere good, don’t we?).
You should know that I have a history of tumbling down stairs, especially my own (insert painful-to-watch AFV montage here).
So I fell and slid all the way down and the bowl of granola spilled all over the coatrack, shoe basket, carpet, and front door. I sat at the foot of the stairs on the verge of weeping and wailing and gnashing my teeth (it hadn’t been the best day even prior to this) when that idiom about crying over spilled milk came to mind and then I wondered- does that proverb pertain to rice milk too?
I cleaned up the best I could but that stuff was everywhere. Feeling that I owed my roommates an explanation as to why they might find soggy oaty clumps in their sneakers, I left them a note with a nifty little illustration, which I was going to take a picture of and post right here:
However, it was thrown away before I got the chance. So, naturally, I dug through the revolting mess of coffee grounds, milk cartons, etc etc in our kitchen rubbish bin to retrieve it. Because I care THAT much for all of you. Alas, I got my forearms goopy for nothing because I couldn’t find it. So I recreated the original using good ol’ Paint:
A brief, bulleted update January 21, 2010
- I love my new job. I pretty much get paid to jump on a trampoline.
- Russian is coming along swimmingly. I can introduce myself and know not to be weirded out if a Russian tries to kiss me on the cheek three times because it’s a common greeting over there.
- Excuse me while I go learn the Hoedown Throwdown. I’m preparing for a dance-off vs. some 5th graders that is taking place Monday and I don’t want to look like a fool. Unless, of course, it’s a dancing fool.
The Nanny Diaries. January 18, 2010
So I don’t know why this didn’t occur to me till now, but on top of “Nanny Annie” and “Annie Nanny” I have a third option for my new title: I can go the whole Maria-from-The Sound of Music-route and call myself a governess. Impressive, is it not? But perhaps this term only applies to nannies who live with the families they nanny for? I don’t know. Must wiki that one. I could also have them call me “Frauline.” Or something completely new and creative, like “Teacup” or “Cheesecake.”
Anyway, tomorrow will be my first day picking the young ‘uns up from school. I’m so stinkin excited. After going over some things with their mother on Friday, I marched straight to the used media store and bought myself a little secret weapon: The High School Musical soundtrack.
Wow. Never thought I’d type those words on this blog.
Lucky for me (or perhaps unlucky…), the cashier threw in a Hannah Montana CD–FOR FREE! I went ahead and put it in my CD player so when I pick up the kids from school they’ll be all “Cheesecake, what is this?” and I’ll be all, “Duh, girls. It’s Hannah Montana.” And they’ll be like “But Cheesecake, we thought you would listen to boring grown-up music.” And I’ll be like “Hello! Do I look like a boring grown-up to you?” and then they’ll go “Nooo…” because I’ll be wearing my new, pink and white, child-sized, lensless barbie cat eye sunglasses. (My, what a lot of modifiers there were in that sentence!)
So long, poppets; I’m off to coolify my car. Or at least vacuum a bit and make room for The Booster Seat.
Make fun if you want, but we’ll see who’s laughing when the Bolsheviks make a comeback. January 17, 2010
It’s my last semester of college and I have only electives left to take (except for a dreaded computer course I’ve managed to avoid for nearly four years. Puke.) Thus, I decided to take some fun classes: Human Geography, as I mentioned yesterday, to satisfy the part of me that says “You fool! You should have been an Anthropology major all along!” Then there’s Chinese, which I started last semester. I have a study date with a fat stack of notecards this weekend to gear me up for round two. But I needed another 3 credit morning class, and when I looked at my options the choice was obvious: why, Russian Language and Culture, of course! What could be more enjoyable than memorizing characters Monday, Wednesday, and Friday and mastering the Cyrillic alphabet Tuesday and Thursday? According to the many raised eyebrows I’ve received this week when questioned about my schedule, I have a very different idea of “fun” than my fellow sojourners of learning.
However, while it may seem ludicrous to add these languages to the fragments of Spanish leftover in my brain from highschool and my early college career, I have no doubt that all this knowledge will someday come in handy. Consider the following scenario:
What if Communism resurfaces and Russia and China join forces in an effort to gain world domination? Honey, that elementary French class you took ain’t gonna do you a lick of good. But I, I will be an asset to the underground freedom movement because I will have the ability to pose as a spy and decode messages. Don’t worry, I’ll pass along hints to you, my faithful readers. Together we will resist the red army!
Please feel free to swing by my class this very March for my presentation on Moscow. It’s sure to be an interesting, helpful guide to the old and lovely Russian city.
I have wet ankles and a possible chance at romance with a wealthy Bedouin shepherd. January 15, 2010
My ironing technique worked except for one small detail: my pants were still damp when I put them on this morning. Hence the first half of this post’s title.
As per the second half, while showing the class a website on an anthropology project in the Middle East my Human Geography professor mentioned a certain young shepherd who is very available (except for the fact that he already has one wife, but hey, the more the merrier). Apparently, being a shepherd is a pretty cushy job because he has a more than decent income. Seeing that none of the other girls in class were jumping at this opportunity, I quickly weighed my pros and cons:
Pros
Cute, woolly animals.
Warm climate where one never has to scrape her windshield and get chapped hands when already running late for her 8:00 class.
Cons
They say polygamy isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.
I’m a bit doubtful of my ability to build a fire out of manure and cook things over it, seeing as how I’ve barely mastered my own toaster.
I’m not a Muslim.
Needless to say, the only thing standing between me and wedded bliss is a one-way plane ticket to Jordan.
Desperate times. January 14, 2010
Sometimes, when you don’t own an iron, you simply have to dampen the legs of your pants and stack hefty textbooks on them and hope they dry somewhat crease-free.
Check in tomorrow for more helpful homemaking hints and the conclusion of the Wrinkly Corduroy Trousers saga.
