Oh the noise, noise, noise, noise

Going to school in the mountains, I assumed the only noises I would be hearing would be the wind in the trees, leaves rustling on the ground, or maybe even the occasional bear. Basically, natural serenity.

Boy oh boy was I wrong.

The moment I walk out of my dorm, queue BUSES, and LEAF BLOWERS, and SERVICE VEHICLES, and BIDDIES talking on their cell phones.

Today was extraordinarily loud, however. I'm talking a symphony of pollution. Bypassing the leaf blowers in the Village, I came to the cross walk. Then I hear "DING DING...DING DING..." Huh? Is that? No...it's not... really? The Train. I can probably say I attend the only university where the train is a legit excuse for being late to class.

So this train is huffin' and puffin' and it has to be over a mile long. Ten minutes later, the train starts to slow down. It even appears to be STOPPING. It gets some momentum back and lets out a roaring boost of speed. Bye, train.

Finishing my walk to class, service vehicles (orange golf carts) are a putt-putt-putting all over the place. Hey you guys, stop!

Now, my biggest and final ailment are JMU's primary mode of transportation. The buses. Yes, I realize that this system is glorified on the weekend and takes tons of my fellow students to their respective apartments and off-campus dining and shopping. But, really, JMU? If you're going to have twenty buses driving around, get them a decent engine so it won't sound like explosions every time they try to tackle even the smallest incline.

On the bright side, I don't have to listen to the band practice endlessly like my friends in Hillside.

'Sup BlogSpot?

My blog is back in business.

Once again, Paul Sorrell has demanded I kickstart my blog again. Due to my slack college schedule, I delightfully obliged.

This time, I won't be complaning about the 900+ kiddies of Tabb High School. Oh, no. I'm in a much bigger pond now. Still a small fish, though.

I'm now in a world surrounded by buses, bicycles, dog food plants, NorthFace jackets, Ugg Boots, spandex (yeah..), and throbbing foot blisters.

Obviously, college is where I reside.

Things to look forward to:

1. Obnoxious HomeStar Runner links

2. rants about college girl fashion

3. the buses

4. rants about college girl drama

5. GCom

6. rants about college girls in general

7. my lofted bed

8. how my dorm smells like cheeseburgers

that's all for now. stay tuned, folks!

Chick-FIl-A for the Soul

On Wednesday, Steven, Britni, and I traveled to Fairfax, Va to participate in another First 100 for a Chick-Fil-A opening. Leaving at 2am, we got there in plenty of time. Arriving at 4:30 am, nearly 150 people were already there. By 6 am, the parking lot was flooded with over 300 avid chikin lovers. It was a pretty interesting crowd. Townies, college students, a group of Mexicans, Ron Weasley, and a five year old scooter gang. Standing with all of these people incredibly early in the morning did little to improve my grouchy, tired mood. Once the raffle started, we all sat on the ground...since, well, our hopes had pretty much hit rock bottom anyway. While intently waited for "Amber Sherman" to be pulled out of the bucket...a small Mexican child wandered from her pack and was running wild throughout the crowd. I ignored said child and kept listening to Mama Sue, hoping she would call atleast one of our names. Minding my own business, Dora the Explorer comes out of nowhere and hits me!!! Excuse me, JORGE, but your daughter just hit me. Que? SU HIJA GOLPEA A ME!!!!!!!!!

In response, they decided to change her diaper on the ground next to us. Lovely. Luckily, none of them were drawn in the raffle so that little girl got off easy.

Anywho, Steven and I were drawn in the raffle so we traveled over with Loser Britni and set up our tent. No, not tent. Palace. While setting up, our "neighbors" made it very clear that our tent was indeed too large for our spot.

"Hey. That's a uhh pretty big tent you got there."

"Yeah."

"It's kind of uhm crowding into our spot."

"Oh, sorry."

"How many rooms does that thing have?"

"Two."

"Yeah I can tell it's pretty big."

"Jealous."

Once our tent is set up on three spots, we can finally relax. Except Fairfax instantly transformed into the Sahara Desert and oh my sweet jaheebus I have never been so hot in my entire life. Waking up from a nap, drenched in my own sweat, is probably one of the worst feelings in the world. Our tent was more of a giant greenhouse than a safe haven from the scorching hot sun.

Fast forward to about 6pm. God must love Chick-Fil-A too because everytime I do one of these First 100's it seems the heavens open up and there's a huge rainstorm. Aside from our leaking rainguard, soaken Chuck, moist mattress, and fluffy hair...the rain was a pretty nice relief.

Around 10:30, I was exhausted and decided to go to bed. This is apparently the same time that our jealous neighbors decided to have an INCREDIBLY loud frisbee golf tournament. Let me explain. They brought a portable frisbee golf which consists of what can only be described as a 6 foot tall bird feeder with vertical chains hanging from it. So all I can hear is the CLANG CLANG CLING of the chains and good gracious is the ghost of Christmas past outside of my tent or what?? In the apex of my frustration with jealous neighbors, they miss their giant bird feeder and hit my tent with one of their frisbees. This not only causes a disruption to my slumber, but all of the sitting water to fall through the mesh on the tent. At this point it is essentially lightly raining over my mattress. I give out a loud roar, half bear half horrible child. The nerdy Liberty University guy offers up the most scared and apathetic apology I have ever heard. He was definitely feeling convicted for waking up the beast.

The next morning everything went pretty smooth except for Britni telling a Chick-Fil-A employee to "shutup lady, like what the hell."

All the Sleepy Ladies

Naturally, being a high school student, I am sleep deprived. Waking up at 6am for the past four years has really taken a toll on my sleep cycle and overall health. With no time to take naps and my incessant need to watch multiple reality shows on almost every night of the week, I can never find the time to squeeze in some extra Zzz's.
So, whenever the opportunity arrives for me to sleep in..I try to take advantage of it.
However, my family (and basic structure of my house), just never seem to get the memo.
On Friday night, Britni and I attempted to go to sleep around 1am. Relatively a pretty early and reasonable time to go to sleep on a weekend night. Our weary eyes and slurred speech both hinted at our exhaustion. Settling down in the bonus room, the house is quiet (for once) and the fan actually isn't making that annoying clicking sound.
But, there does seem to be a burglar downstairs. Or atleast Britni thinks so.
Being the same level of crazy at my Granny, Britni begins to peer out of the window down onto the driveway. For those of you who don't know, Britni is pretty blind (like myself). She had neither her contacts nor glasses so for all she knew, Steven's tiny (old), white (old), Toyota Corolla was a ginormous polar bear (what's he doing here?). Continuing to insist that somebody is robbing me, I get up an investigate. I check the other windows and overhear the television downstairs. Uhm, I don't think a robber would stop to catch his favorite late night show while trying to steal our stuff.
Convinced that it couldn't possibly be Steven coming home, Britni continues to glance out of the window. She finally calls him and he confirms that it IS him that is home. Honestly the likelihood of somebody trying to steal our 23 year old red dump truck is incredibly low.

Once the burglarly is solved, I figure I can finally get some shut eye.
Steven figured he can finally dust his room.
Brother, you're awesome and I love you, but your room squeeks like the dickens. Its worse than nails on a chalkboard, than Dad's sneezes, than Mrs. Abel, than the Italians at the pool. It is probably my biggest pet peeve. How your room got to this 200 year old haunted house state, I am not sure. One thing I am sure about is I risk suffocation by covering my head with two pillows and a quilt to try and drown it out. Unsuccessfully. Also, around this time, cue the awful fan clicking noise. What have I got myself? A hair-ripping house orchestra.
I finally fall asleep around 2:30am.


Thank goodness Mom likes to wash dishes at 7am.

I Believe in Al Gore

Al Gore, you are correct. Global Warming is a problem. For my attitude.

Britni and I decided to walk the Nolan Trail this week. It was about 6pm so we figured the sun was going down and it would probably

start to cool down by the time we got there. I have never been so wrong about anything in my life.

First entering the trail we appeared to be well-groomed, civil, and educated young women. After finished the five mile pilgrimmage, we could sufficiently be described as "natural born amazon women" or maybe Neanderthals. We managed to become completely de-humanized while walking this trail... I think we actually got to a point where we had strayed off the trail and entered the set of Twilight.

As Britni's hair expanded in the humidity, minutes turned into hours. After an hour and a half of walking this trail, we finally found civilization again. We have decided we are too old for such nonsense and will not be participating in anymore nature walks.

Anyways, the instense heat lately has put me in a somewhat zombie-like sate. Or, as Bob would say, sluggish. I do not like the hot. I get cranky. I repeatedly complain that "It's so HOT." So for the benefit of everybody who comes into contact with me, I tend to stay inside for the majority of the day. Otherwise, I'd be like the "night seeker" in the link below....sizzling and hissing when the hot hot sun scorches my skin.

ZOMBIEEE

edit: Please note that the graduation gowns are also extremely hot and
probably made of sheeps wool. It will be interesting to see how my
mood holds up at William and Mary hall on Wednesday..

Pretty Retarded and Outstanding Mania

...or PROM for short.

I have been on a blogging hiatus (sorry, Paul) so prepare yourself for some intense complaining. Let's just dive right in, shall we?

This past Saturday was Prom. My date, group, pictures, dinner, and time at the dance were outstanding. Bob looked dashing, the entire group was awesome, pictures were bearable, dinner was fun, and the dance was great, too.

Of course, the five hours of preparation was somewhat stressful but Britni helped with that.

Surprisingly, I have no complaints about the actual Prom or events leading up to it.

I do, however, have a few words about Afterprom.

It really "grinds my gears" to see people who do absolutely nothing to benefit the school win the ginormous prizes at Afterprom. People who I have never seen, get suspended, or are going to use their $100 gift card to the mall to just buy more skinny jeans and hair dye (I'm talking to you, Jonas Wanna-be). Whereas my ENTIRE group does so much stupid crap to help out that dumb high school (Most School Spirited, my eye!!) that atleast ONE of us should have gotten something (Besides Laura, whose mother I believe rigged the drawing...but that's completely acceptable because Laura single handedly puts on carwashes). Basically, I find it so incredibly retarded that all I got at Afterprom was a $10 Wal-mart gift card that I personally singled out the dumb people who won stuff and let them know they didn't deserve it.

It's actually a statistical marvel that Jeff didn't win anything. Considering he had 90% of the tickets in the TV jar (thanks to Steven, giving him 20 tickets at a time if he did a little jig or got him a taco).

So, perhaps it was karma that none of us won anything... Since we actually stole/cheated to get tickets.

And I really suck at Bingo.

And ANDDD looky looky at pictures.

Geezers

Old people do not know how to drive.