Ramble Ramble Ramble

I have officially made it through three days of classes. And I might have gotten asked out too, but, seeing as how I am socially illiterate, I'm not sure. And it only occurred to me after I said bye to the dude that Whoa, I think he just asked me out. And I said that, yes, we could totally catch a movie sometime. And wait, I have a Boy, who I don't think is a fan of polygamy. Especially if his girlfriend would be the one practicing it. And, well, I don't really like the guy like that. 

Which is funny since he is way more like how I imagined the perfect guy to be than The Boy is. If I made a chart of ways they compare, The Dude would seemingly beat out The Boy. 

Seemingly.

In truth The Boy wins.

Anyway. I'm not sure what the anyway is. But, when working with little kids (or even just babysitting them), be prepared to hear every time there is pen on your hand, especially red pen, "What is on your hand?" Or, in the case of the red pen, "Are you hurt?" Unless that's just me.   

 

According to Google Images, those scarves are "Good Stuff". They are Sushi and Eggs & Bacon scarves. Foods that I am not a fan of, but in scarf form, I approve.

Don't look up "Cool Beans". Just don't. Cause Google is stupid and people are stupid and Google doesn't realize what is nudity. Have the filter on, but whoa, naked peoples. Not fun.

Oh. Wait. I'm supposed to be looking up stuff for English. Not staring at awesomely funky scarves and wanting to make some candy sushi - the only kind of sushi I will eat. But there's no food in the library and I have not money to go looking for some at any place selling food that is within walking distance. I guess that I should just concentrate on my work. Listen to the darn recordings about people's lives. But, but, I want candy sushi. And to waste my time on a totally stupid blog post. The whole point of which is to put off listening to those darn recordings.


  Homework it is. *walks away muttering to self about the stupidity of life and a sad lack of funky scarves*

I am a Saltine Cracker

Today, driving with my mom to work, I was able to text my friend. We were both "bland". So she called us Saltine Crackers. 

I now feel like a Soggy Saltine Cracker. But not a beautiful, I am in Soup like I belong, soggy. Oh no. Some bratty little kid decided to kick me into a muddy puddle Soggy. Fuuunnn stuff.

I blame this all on college. Or Life and College. 

See, I want to start college now. Get a move on with my life and stop sitting at home reading all day (not that that's bad. I just want some math problems to do.). So, sent in my application for Spring Semester at a nearby community college. So, going in  to set everything up - awesome!!

Until.... The night before, I realize... I WANT TO GO AWAY FOR COLLEGE!!!!! Like, next fall (and, yes, I just used "like" inappropriately. That is what happens when you are a soggy saltine. Try it some time and watch how abused "like" becomes). Well, does it make any sense to start community college right now then and waste precious financial aide? I already have so little of it as is. 

That alone is annoying. Okay government, thank you for telling me that my dad's last job was enough to pay for my college now. He has a new job with less money. And he wasn't going to give me any money anyway. Dear government, when you ASSUME things, you just make a ass of you and me (since i look like one for being so mad). 

So Soggy Saltine Cracker over here has had college EXPLODE all over her. 

 

And I'm not all happy like this guy (Orlando Bloom it may be under all that sliiiiimmmmeeee). I'm sitting there glaring and pouting. Like this....

Only not as cute. Or so I think. I may look that cute and be taken not-seriously at all as I sit there and glare and pout. And I may throw some shoes while I'm at it.

Oh. funny story. I was throwing shoes. All of my shoes. Starting with my lethal pair of sparkly pink stilettos.  Then my less-lethal pair of glittery silver heels. Then my thick-heeled boots. Then my combat boots. That aren't really combat boots, but I love them anyway. Then my sneakers. Then finally my fake Toms. The ones that are practically slippers. See --------------------->>>

But mine are wimpier. THOSE are the ones that put a hole in my door. Not any of the lethal heels. Nope. My slipper shoes. 

I guess that being a Soggy Saltine Cracker adds Super Strength to Slipper Shoes (probably just for the alliteration). So watch out for those Soggy Saltines!