Snotty Noses and the Fires of Failure

That, ladies and gentlemen, is my GPA going up in flames and burning in the fires of failure. Just in case you weren't sure since I have the drawing skills of a two year old. Not good at physics, not good at drawing.. what can I say, I got the short end of the stick. 

"I promise physics is important! You really will use it later in life no matter what your career choice is!"

Umm, sorry Josh Winter, you may be hilarious and attractive, but you are a liar. Six year olds don't know or care about physics. I mean really. Are they going to ask me to calculate the speed of their barbie jeep or something? Besides, if they ever ask me a question I don't have an answer for, I'll just do the responsible adult thing and say, "That's a great question for your parents! Ask them when you get home from school today!" Problem solved. :)

Physical science and I have a relationship that will never be filled with anything but hate. Maybe it's just a common problem with elementary ed majors. There are a few other girls in my class that are just as clueless as I am, and they are elementary ed majors too! I mean, jeez.. don't you think there's a reason we want to teach elementary school? We don't have to be the brightest crayon in the box when it comes to physics, we just have to make sure we have enough crayons for our kids to color with! (That's a joke, peeps. Elementary ed majors are just as smart as engineers! But, uh, hopefully engineers are a little better at physics.)

So maybe I don't have the IQ of a genius or a perfect GPA, and I'm not going to be as successful/rich as JT's going to be; And I certainly didn't get my mom's artistic talents like Zoe did, so I can't draw decent looking stick people, much less something spectacular; BUT I can/am going to spend 8 hours in a classroom five days a week with short, whiny humans that constantly need my attention and have snot on their face 90% of the time. I'm going to teach them to read, count, and use their imagination. I'll laugh at their jokes that make no sense (Knock knock! Who's there? Tomato. Tomato who? ORANGE! Giggle giggle giggle) and smile when they finally understand something and their face lights up.

And to me, all of that is WAY better than being able to tell you the velocity and frequency of the sound waves coming from your computer speakers while you're blasting your Backstreet Boys Millennium CD.

:)

No Country for Old Men, No Sanity for Alexa

Warning: I'm about to be an overly dramatic drama diva queen. You have been warned. :)

Cormac McCarthy is still alive, right? I need to have a little chit chat with that lunatic of a writer. Because after having to read No Country for Old Men for my Honors Comp 2 class, I have a few questions. Ahem.

1) Are you a psychopath or do you have dreams of becoming one?
2) While other kids were coloring, were you looking up a million ways to be cruel?
3) Did your parents hug you enough when you were little?
4) Now that I have read your book, could you kindly point me in the direction of the nearest therapist?

Worst. Book. Ever. Ever. Ever. EVER.

If you are going to tell me something about how it's a great piece of literature or some other kind of nonsense like that, you better keep those terrible thoughts in your pretty little head! And then be thankful that your head wasn't one of the many ones that got to meet a nice cattle gun (Is that what those things are called? The thing they use to shoot cows in the forehead or whatevs?) in that stupid book. I mean REALLY. I've watched my fair share of gory tv shows/movies that made me want to throw up all of my internal organs, but this book goes way past anything I've ever seen. It's 309 pages of nonstop killing! I wake up in the morning and brush my teeth, he wakes up in the morning and kills five people. Then changes his shirt and goes on with his day. No big deal.

I hated reading it. I can't even imagine writing something like that! I always get really attached to the characters in the books I read, so that's probably a big problem too. Once I got closer to the end of the book and he killed one of the main character's wife, Carla Jean, (who, might I add, had just lost her husband AND her mom) I lost it. I'm pretty sure Jen thought something was wrong with me. I had to stop reading and do something else because I couldn't do it! He's awful, mean, terrible, and just HORRIBLE! The way he kills the people, and the awful conversations he has with them right before, and just everything! I can't wrap my tiny little brain around something like that. I've been having awful dreams about it too! I mean, there are probably people like him on this planet! I have big dreams and plans for my life, people. I can NOT afford to get chased down by a psycho killer. I was glad when I went to class on Tuesday and discovered that some of the other girls in my class are just as disturbed. Oh, and someone PLEASE tell me how the movie got an Academy Award. Best picture? Are you kidding?! Sickos.

My heart sinks every time I have to open the book. The best part? I still have to discuss/analyze it even more and then I get to write a paper on it next week. Lucky me! If you have/had to read this book, I'm so sorry. You are more than welcome to go searching for a therapist with me. :)

So, stay away from psychopathic murderers, and if you see someone with a cattle gun.. RUN.

Home Is Where The Pickles Are

I surprised my family and went home this past weekend. I had no intention of going home because gas is really expensive, but a few of my friends were going home so they talked me into riding with them. (thanks Ryan and Christian!)

Best. Idea. Ever.

I didn't say anything about coming home to my parents. Then I ran into a slight problem because my mom wanted to either A) overnight my machine that helps me breathe to fix my mama llama lung drama (Just in case you're wondering, I have no idea how/why I came up with that. But it rhymes!) or B) drive up to Starkville to see that I'm alive with her own two eyes. My oxygen intake level has been really low for the last week-ish, and apparently my parents were a lot more worried than they made me think. Clearly, they love me.. who knew. ;) Anyway, I came up with a nice little story and told my darling mother that my friend Drue was going home this weekend and would stop by on Friday to pick up my thingy. Needless to say, she was really excited when she opened the door and found her darling oldest daughter instead of Drue.

It was the perfect weekend to go home! My mom and I showed up at the football game on Friday and surprised my dad and sister. People probably thought my sister hadn't seen me in months/years due to the fact that she squealed/jumped up and down/hugged me for five minutes. We have separation issues. Then band contest and my dad's birthday was on Saturday, so I got to see the halftime show and be there for my dad's birthday party! AND I got to watch two Yankees ALDS games and the Saints game with my wonderful daddy. That's something I miss more than anything.

It was really, really good to be home. Between my mama llama lung drama and school kicking my butt, I needed mommy/daddy hugs and sleepovers/silliness with my sister. It was a really wonderful weekend filled with baking cakes, band stuff, and loving on sweet baby Livie! I really missed my family! I take them for granted for sure. They really are the best! I can't wait for Christmas when my brother will be home and all five of us will be together. Speaking of JT, cross your fingers and maybe mention his name when you're saying hey to Jesus every now and then. He's starting to interview for scary, grown-up world jobs that will determine where he lives after he graduates in May! So, fingers crossed. (Double crossed for somewhere closer than 14 hours away. Me no likey this distance.) I'm so proud of him!

I have four midterms and a paper due this week.. BOOOO. But that's okay. Thanks to the weekend I got my oxygen, hugs, and pickles. :) Pretty sure I can conquer the world (and physics) now.

PS- IT SMELLS LIKE FALL OUTSIDE!