Take, for example, my keys.
I leave my apartment, I put them in my bag, I EXPECT THEM TO STAY IN MY BAG.
And yet, here I am, sitting outside my apartment at midnight writing a blog post from my front stoop. Trying to drown out the sound of my neighbors watching a John Wayne movie. And have sex. (who has sex while watching westerns? COME ON.)
And that's not even entirely true. I'm not sitting. Because it recently rained, meaning two things.
Thing one: the ground is wet.
Thing two: slugs.
Not to mention the wild animal I scared off into the bushes.
Looks like I'll be spending the next couple hours in the library until my roommate gets out of a movie.
Will I be productive? No. Because my books are in my apartment. For once.
Add some sass to your class,
Jenna
Update:
Now that that adventure is over and done with, allow me to share three things I've learned.
One:
My roommate is great.
Two:
Clemons closes at midnight on weekends.
Three:
The acoustics of the stairwell in Newcomb are really fun to sing Adele with.
Saturday, April 21, 2012
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
I Am Irrationally Irked By Things That Are Socially Unacceptable to Say
Have you ever had a teacher crush?
Not the young one who's cute and witty.
I'm talking an intellectual teacher crush. Someone who possesses a brain that you wish you could borrow or steal or replicate. Someone who instills the urge to be a better human being. Who restores faith in mankind.
Welcome to my life right now.
This man is amazing. And I don't say that lightly.
But that's the problem. I really want him to think I'm great too (granted, in my own less intelligent, quirky way.)
So I've been avoiding contact.
I don't go to office hours.
I sit in the back.
If I saw him on the street, I would probably tuck and roll into a shrubbery.
Because as long as we remain strangers, I can pretend that we're still going to be best friends whenever we do meet.
This is not brilliant, I know.
I mean, he's even leading the study abroad program I am doing in London over the summer. I am going to be in contact with this man eventually. I might as well get it over with.
And yet.
I'm not really great when it comes to first impressions. I can come on a little strong. I can be a little quirky. It might be considered creepy. When I get nervous, I have much less of a verbal filter. I wouldn't be able to control what I was saying.
Maybe you think I'm exaggerating. Well, I'll let you decide.
This is how I think things will go the first time I officially meet this man:
Add some sass to your class,
Jenna
Not the young one who's cute and witty.
I'm talking an intellectual teacher crush. Someone who possesses a brain that you wish you could borrow or steal or replicate. Someone who instills the urge to be a better human being. Who restores faith in mankind.
Welcome to my life right now.
This man is amazing. And I don't say that lightly.
But that's the problem. I really want him to think I'm great too (granted, in my own less intelligent, quirky way.)
So I've been avoiding contact.
I don't go to office hours.
I sit in the back.
If I saw him on the street, I would probably tuck and roll into a shrubbery.
Because as long as we remain strangers, I can pretend that we're still going to be best friends whenever we do meet.
This is not brilliant, I know.
I mean, he's even leading the study abroad program I am doing in London over the summer. I am going to be in contact with this man eventually. I might as well get it over with.
And yet.
I'm not really great when it comes to first impressions. I can come on a little strong. I can be a little quirky. It might be considered creepy. When I get nervous, I have much less of a verbal filter. I wouldn't be able to control what I was saying.
Maybe you think I'm exaggerating. Well, I'll let you decide.
This is how I think things will go the first time I officially meet this man:
Add some sass to your class,
Jenna
Friday, April 6, 2012
I Am Irrationally Irked by Buses that Brake Suddenly
You know, I'm not a graceful person.
This is kind of a given in my life, but I think I should note that my condition is exacerbated if it is before 11 A.M. My body just doesn't want to stay vertical.
It's a problem.
Especially on buses. Buses that are so full, I am standing.
So there I was this morning, exhausted, NOT excited to go to my discussion, and ready to catch my bus. I board this herculean form of transportation.
The situation:
I am standing facing the left side of the bus, very close to the driver, and holding on to the rail above me with just my right hand. For any other person, that would probably be a stable enough position to ride the bus without shame. Not for me, though.
The bus brakes suddenly.
I'm still holding on with my right hand, but my entire body swings to my left. I throw out my left hand to try and grab something, but instead I just hit the bus driver on the shoulder. I stayed in this position, right hand on rail, body sprawled against the side of the bus, left hand groping the driver, for far longer than I should have.
Everyone in the front half of the bus just stared.
I didn't say anything.
Except, of course, when I exited the bus.
Instead of thanking the bus driver like I usually do, I departed with, "Sorry I groped you! Normally I don't move this fast."
What can I say? It was early.
Add some sass to your class,
Jenna
This is kind of a given in my life, but I think I should note that my condition is exacerbated if it is before 11 A.M. My body just doesn't want to stay vertical.
It's a problem.
Especially on buses. Buses that are so full, I am standing.
So there I was this morning, exhausted, NOT excited to go to my discussion, and ready to catch my bus. I board this herculean form of transportation.
The situation:
I am standing facing the left side of the bus, very close to the driver, and holding on to the rail above me with just my right hand. For any other person, that would probably be a stable enough position to ride the bus without shame. Not for me, though.
The bus brakes suddenly.
I'm still holding on with my right hand, but my entire body swings to my left. I throw out my left hand to try and grab something, but instead I just hit the bus driver on the shoulder. I stayed in this position, right hand on rail, body sprawled against the side of the bus, left hand groping the driver, for far longer than I should have.
Everyone in the front half of the bus just stared.
I didn't say anything.
Except, of course, when I exited the bus.
Instead of thanking the bus driver like I usually do, I departed with, "Sorry I groped you! Normally I don't move this fast."
What can I say? It was early.
Add some sass to your class,
Jenna
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