Things that make me smile.

So I thought I'd share.
Because it's been a rough couple of weeks.
And smiles are awesome.

The end. :D

Oprah isn't the only one who has favorite things.

The following is one of my favorite life philosophies.

It doesn't bother me at all that I borrowed it from the character Barney on "How I Met Your Mother".

If anything, it only makes it more awesome.

I'm made of money! Oh, wait, that's not me, that's someone else.....

I buy books all the time. I've owned somewhere between 200 and 300 books. Many of them fiction, and even more of them on permanent loan with friends or siblings, but still. I own a lot of books. Now, even with all of my extensive book-buying experience, I was not prepared for yesterday. For my five classes next semester, I had to buy ten textbooks. Ten. And I spent just over $800.00. I think this textbook buying business is a racket. I'm paying you $130 for a book that I can then sell back to you for $15, which you will turn around to sell for $75. It's a racket, I say! I would have bought them for cheaper online, but in order to use my financial aid to pay for them, I have to go through the colleges' book store. I smell a conspiracy for the college to get even more of my money! Haha. Well, in any case, I'm excited for my classes to begin, so I can put these expensive tomes to work for me!

I leave you with a snapshot of my bedroom to illustrate my book-lovin' ways.

My "artistic" temperament

Sometimes I get melancholy. Usually after several glasses of wine, or an string of dark, stormy days. (or even just humid days. Humidity makes my hair explode like some horrible science project gone awry, which does wonders for my mood.) But occasionally I just am sad. I fall into an interminable funk where nothing is fun (especially not me) and I am a giant pile of emo shit. They used to give me pills to correct that, but I stopped taking them. There was a logical reason, for it at the time, I'm sure. But I don't really remember exactly why.... I think I wanted to give my brain a chance to try to fix itself. (*shrugs*) And to be honest, for the majority of the time, I do alright. But for those of you being brought down by my current ennui and depression, I apologize. I can't say I'll stop, but I'll try. Since the dissolution of Astral Feedback, my band, I find that I miss having a creative outlet in that way. So now I keep all my post-teenage angst in my head. I go for runs in this horrible heat, hiding behind giant bug-eye shades so people don't know that the runner with crazy giant hair is me. The running helps, I don't know about the shades.

On the bright side, I start classes in a couple of weeks. And with my eighteen credits this semester, I don't think I'll have any time to mope about Michigans' Lake Effect on my hair or the oil spill crisis. (Yes, in that order. I'm narcissistic.)
I am taking:
Composition: Not worried about this class, as I write for my dayjob currently and have always been pretty good with words.
Public Speaking: This isn't my favorite thing to do, but I fronted a band for four years, and this should be easier than that. I do like being the center of attention, so it will work out. I have faith.
Biology: I <3 science.
Nutrition: I repeat, I <3 science. I also like to cook so I'm actually pretty amped for this class.
Psychology: I find the human brain completely fascinating. I'm mostly amped about this class and the nutrition.
My only real worry with my fall schedule is that I have a 7:30AM class Monday through Thursday. I am not a morning person at all. But I guess I will learn to be. Caffeine and I are good friends. I will just have to start being more organized. And really, the OCD part of my brain loves it when I am super organized. So, really, I only have good things coming up on my horizon.

I'm trying. I feel good about the future. Really, I do. Everything works out in the end, after all.

I've got half a smile and zero shame,

I've got a reflection with a different name...
That lyric makes me wish I had a visible alter ego in the mirror who would go by the moniker Violette. She would do all the things I don't, and say all the things I shouldn't- ala Michael Cera's alter ego 'Francois' in "Youth in Revolt".

Mostly I wish she would smoke constantly, have better jokes and help me apply liquid eyeliner. (It always takes me forever to get it just right.)

I recently decided to quit smoking. I was never a pack-a-day-er, but I realized that sooner or later I was going to have to quit for good. Being an oncologist who smokes is like the textbook definition of hypocrite. Or self-defeating. One of those. Maybe both.
So today is day four of not smoking, and it's slightly better than days one, two and three.
The first day I felt nervous, and a little cranky, but overall  not too bad.
Day two took a definite turn for the worse, with my patience wearing thin as well as the filter between the rude things I think and the awesome things that come out of my mouth.
Day three was tough. Not only was I feeling cranky because of the lack of nicotine, but it was a million degrees out and I was walking around downtown Ann Arbor in the art fair sweating. I only like to sweat when I'm working out. That's legit the only time I am okay with sweating.  I hate feeling sweaty and gross. I realize it's my bodys' natural reaction to ungodly temperatures, but I'm still not down. The heat and grossness added to my discomfort and I was pretty much a giant grumpapotamous. I feel bad for my boyfriend.
Day four is going much better. I decided to distract myself with work and registering for all my classes next semester. :) I am a giant nerd and get really excited about things like that. I had originally planned to take eighteen credit hours next semester, but due to scheduling crisises (not having the ability to be in two places at one and my absolute refusal to attend a 7 AM Bio class Sunday morning) I am only taking fourteen and a half credit hours. But that is still a full courseload.

After my five year hiatus from the structured world of school, I am excited to use my brain in new ways and be challenged academically. (See? I told you I was a nerd.) Playing music is great, and I still plan on doing that, but I'm happy to see what else is in store for me. I'll never completely trade in my bass and microphone for a stethoscope and scalpel. But it's okay to have more than one dream.

South Dakota

South Dakota confused me. I saw a plethora of billboards, including one slightly suggestive one that read, "Come Ride The McNasty" featuring a covered wagon that had clearly seen better days. But there was what seemed to be an astonishing lack of actual human life. Where exactly are all of these things being advertised? I started to imagine that there were massive underground cities brimming with life and excitement, where everyone lives and the surface is where only tiny troll-like South Dakotans hide out and raise sheep. Because even when we happened upon a gas station to refuel, there never seemed to be an actual city attached to it, the only exception being the Corn Palace.

The Corn Palace was a building set in a small plaza not unlike a low budget theme park, in which there were no rides, but you could purchase a hat shaped like an ear of corn, or alternatively view an informational film about the corn. Now, I love weird things, especially hats, but these corn hats were neither bizarre enough for me to love or nice enough for my family to consider wearing, so the majority of our group left the CP without a hat.  My boyfriend, on the other hand, purchased a cowboy hat at this fine establishment. Now, we're in South Dakota and there's only like, twelve visible people in this whole state anyway, so I suppose it doesn't really matter what you look like, but as my sister Zoe pointed out, he did slightly resemble Hugh Jackman in the hat. (Or as she so eloquently explained, "like the Wolfman from The Matrix!" She's not a film buff.) In any case, by the time we'd left the CP, the hat had grown on me.

I left South Dakota without finding the underground city, sheep-farming trolls or riding the McNasty.
It was a thoroughly disappointing state.
I'm not going back. For my return trip, I'm going around it. 

Procrastination is the sincerest form of delaying the inevitable.

I should be writing work stuff right now. You know, for the making money portion of my life. But the internets are a strange and wonderful place. (And I also have a mosquito bite on the bottom of my foot that's driving me insane. That's not relevant, I just felt like sharing.) So, when I sat down today to dutifully toil away at my keyboard, a photo in my email caught my eye and I was unavoidably.... distracted.

Then I thought to myself, "Self, you should share this with other people on the internets who maybe haven't seen it yet. And perhaps, they too have an annoying mosquito bite in an uncomfortable spot and this would make them feel better."

Now, I can't guarantee this will make you feel better, I mean, my mosquito bite still itches, but it may momentarily take your mind off it. This website is...well, it's just straight-up awkward. I think the exact words to leave my mouth upon seeing this picture were, "Holy Aunt Jemima on the pancake box!!"
Enjoy.

What kind of photo is this? Do they display this above the mantle? On Christmas cards? "Happy Holidays from  the Buck Nekkids." And what was the thought process behind this? "Let's go nude for the family photo! Oh.. maybe I should cover up the naughty bits... You know what? Let's use the cats! Then we'll match!" I don't think the cats are really down with this plan either. From the looks on their faces, they are humiliated and know that their reps are completely ruined.

So, that's my procrastination update for the day. If you would like to ruin your retinas some more, head over to awkward family pet photos for even more fun. I shall endeavor to update this more frequently. I keep forgetting I started this blog.

Is anyone reading this? If not, I just spent fifteen minutes typing out a thought process that took less than ten seconds. Bahahahaha...well, if not then I will have something to look back on when the Old Timer's strikes and I can't remember anything. I'll look back and be shocked at myself and my blatant misuse of time.
I look forward to it.