Chats, Cheese, and Choppy-Hoppy Froggies

Thursday, April 2nd, 2009

Classes [Starts with C]

I apparently have a letter theme that I think is witty. But because it's out of order, I've decided that it's not witty at all but more rather impractical. Then again, I think I enjoy being impractical which simply means that none of this makes sense at all. Words on the page, though. Words in the blog!

Today, because it's Thursday, is long. As in, I have no morning classes, but one night class. Said night class is long, but good. There are usually interesting arguments about genital mutilation or politics or peeing on people. I mean, seriously, what's better than debating about peeing on people? As I sat there, trying to avoid twittering everything I heard, mostly because I simply cannot txt that quickly, I heard a lot of different things. One of those things was the teacher. The other was a woman named Dominique.

Now, as a twenty year old college student, I've been in four semesters of community college. This means that we're more apt to have older classmates because those classes are geared toward those who can only get to class once a week and after normal working hours. I work for my parents making chocolate, so my schedule is sporadic. Though I usually spend more time there than at home.

Back to classes--we take Ethics together. So we'll sit and take these courses hoping to pass to move on to the next ones. Now that I've been accepted to Slippery Rock, things have become much more important--like grades. And as a student that hates second semesters, I've totally been failing to do any of my papers. So I have a ridiculous amount of things due. Past due, actually. BACK TO ETHICS. We'll be having a nice debate or someone will be answering a question and all of a sudden, Dominique will go 'Well, actually' and then assert her opinion or share something she's learned recently. The problem is that she interrupts people and she pretends she's the teacher. Randomly, she emailed me once just to talk. She practically groped my dad when we all met at a book reading for Phillip Meyer. I was mortified.

But I understand. I think she tries to be a good student so she does the extra research to get in on these conversations, right? But the problem is that she goes about it the wrong way. I could say something and she'd immediately jump on what I'd said and switch it around. So then something that HAD been right is then talking into circles, cornered, and then annoyed to the point that we go BACK to the main topic of Aristotle, which is even more annoying.

Another things about CLASSES is the fact that all the Professors pile everything on at the same time. Which means, since I don't multitask well and I really like to write, I get one paper done and add the rest to the pile o' doom. Let me elaborate.

The Pile o' Doom is a sheet of paper which has inaccurately compiled all the papers that I have due for my classes. These classes must be passed. I worry only about one--the others have accepting and reasonable professors, so it's really, honestly, about getting my online work completed. We have 'discussion boards' where we have to read one part about Women as Writers and then analyze it. Like, it could NOT be any easier. But when I get online, I'm on AIM and Adium. And when I'm on those, I'm available for chatting. And when I'm available for chatting, I'm available for RPing, which means I'm writing until I pass out.


LATENESS [And why it's a reoccurring theme]

I am epically prone to being late. Not just 'Oh, you're three minutes late', but more so, rather chronically never punctual. But the kind of late that makes people swear--like grandparents that never swear or my dad, who sadly puts up with listening to my iPod in the car every morning/evening. It's a sad existence. But no, really, I'm always late. Here is why.

My day usually starts out with my waking up, distraught, at the fact that I fell asleep while writing with my bfflz, Kristy. I continue to thrash around in bed, angry, because I missed writing opportunities. I go back to sleep. I wake up some short time before I have to go to school, usually in enough time for my grandmother [I live with her, not because I don't like my parents or they're separated, because they're not, but because I'm going to live in a college dorm an hour and a half away from them next year and I'd hate to have to live through withdrawl] to knock on the door and ask if I'm awake. I usually reply with: "Of course I'm awake! I've been awake for hours!"

This, ironically, is sometimes true.

But most of the time, it's a groggy me pretending to have been awake for several hours. And in most cases, I have not been. I then turn on my Mac [!!!] and proceed to check all the goings-on while I've been asleep. As you see, nothing fun happens while I'm lucid. Everyone role-plays behind my back while I'm sleeping. Like little mice. Except not really.

And then I'll fool around until my dad is sitting in the driveway, honking his horn and oh! I haven't even put on PANTS yet! So he ends up sitting in the driveway while I hurriedly put on clothing. And then I get the lecture every day because I literally am always five minutes late. Always. Which then prompts the frustrating chronicles of 'Blahblahblah you're always late blahblahblah what would you do without a ride as awesome as me blahblahblah are you even listening?' So on and so forth. It's enough to make me gag. You know why?

Because it's the story of my life. I am a late person. Perhaps I like to be late. I'd probably be late to my own funeral. No lie. But it's not just that I'm late. If I had nothing else to do--or if I'm doing something for me, it's totally different. As in, I'm completely dressed, ready to go, standing in the garage waiting for someone to pick me up.


MOURNING [In the Night and tales of my toilet]

So far? A total of four fish and one frog have been flushed down my toilet. Total of creatures dead on flush: 4. Total of creatures alive on flush: 1. You may call me inhumane, but I was totally prepared to step on him because of how horrible he was to Freddie.

Frederick, or Freddie for short, is my betta fish. He is orangeish. He gives me fish kisses against the glass. He is also a very personable fish. Occasionally, he'll come to the top of the tank and belly dance with little fishy fins going at a hundred miles per hour. Freddie is a wonderful fish and he's adorable. I got him for Christmas because I asked for a fish. You see, I had a small tank that I'd bought [HAHAHA FOR TEN DOLLARS] at the store I used to work. It was like..a two and a half gallon tank and I thought: "Whoa! Perfect size!"

And then I got Freddie. And he looked so sad in his little tank alone [and I accidentally broke the light that went over the tank] which prompted me to go to Elmer's, the day after Christmas, to purchase friends for him. And then I purchased a larger tank for him the day after that. And then more friends.

I worried about him and all his betta disease potentials. I fussed. I took him out of the tank every five minutes to make sure HE WASN'T DEAD. But he never was. He was trying to tell me that by taking him out, I was endangering his life.

I just didn't get it. Now, I get it. I went to a concert and when I came back, ONE OF MY FISH WAS DEAD. Heartbroken, I flushed her and cursed the other fish. But I blamed Freddie. Because he hated her. He really, really did. She had to swim at the top of the tank because he hated her. He flared--like a dragon--and chased her around.

So I didn't buy more fish. I just watched them. And then I noticed Freddie with a lack of a tail one evening. And very angrily, I accused the little orange platy, who was the only one who could do something like that, and promised her that her days were numbered.

And then I flushed her. I almost felt bad, but I was so upset for Freddie! Wouldn't you be terribly upset if your fish was cannibalizing another fish? SO NOT COOL.

I had two fish in the tank, by then, because I got another betta for the small tank since I'd bought a five gallon and then I put two of the small fish in with the small tank'd betta and blahblahblah--I did the tank at midnight and the water was too warm and they died.

I got new fish, all tetras, and the world was righted again. Now I have a ten gallon [which I received for my birthday] and I have both fish IN THE TANK with a separator. No more skewed feeding times! No more cleaning one tank every few days! It's brilliance!!

So, also, for my birthday, I received a frog. "A frog?" you may say. "Why in the world would you get a FROG for your birthday?!?!?!oneoneone1" But I'll tell you why. They're freaking adorable. And I mean adorable as in, they're so cute and they swim around and OMGSOFREAKINGCUTE.

You know what's not cute? When they lay on their backs all day. And do not swim. And then die. Oh, and they poop. A lot. I literally have to clean the tank again because the frog pooped all over the place. Not a fan.

I went to class, came home, say the frog, poked him with the air stone/bubbler and dude, that frog did not move an inch. So I scooped him out and put him in the bucket [where all fish must go to be observed] and realized that sadly, he had not made it. I was sad for Finnigan, but I didn't cry. Mostly because he'd escaped the day before and I'd had to cover up every open space with plastic so he wouldn't try to escape. We think that he tried to phone home, but the little escape was too much for him.

So close, yet so far away. He died of heartbreak.

Actually, I don't know why he died. But it would NOT MAKE A GOOD CHILDREN'S STORY. 'The day my frog escaped and then died' by Stevie Bonine.

Brilliant, let me tell you. Brilliant. I think I'll pass on that one.

I then proceeded to watch ER, so sad to see it go--not that I'm an avid fan or anything--, and waited until 11pm to make any kind of food. It was at this point that I realized anything foodwise was going to be noodles. So I made noodles and thawed out steak. I prepared this like..ridiculous food and then UGH. I ate some. And it was terrible. Note to self: DO NOT CONCOCT FOOD. LEAVE FOOD ALONE.

Cheese ruined my noodles. Cheese ruined my life.

I then fell asleep, yes, to a long role-playing session with Kristy that didn't last long. At all. It was sad.