Monday, September 12, 2011
Monday, August 1, 2011
Gone forever. (not really. tricked you! myahahaha)
I'm going out with my girls for the week, so if you were planning on calling me up to go bungee jumping or something, I'm sorry, but I'm out of town. Next week, maybe.
Here's some bad comics to get you through your week without Julie:
disclaimer: best when read at 3 a.m. Preferably, also when drunk/tired/high/on a coffee high. Also part of this disclaimer- I can draw much better (like a freakin' Leonardo). I can also draw worse.
Some going-on's from last week:
- NEW PATRICK WOLF!!!! His album, Lupercalia, is like being a seduced by Nessie. Trust me.
-Butt slasher?!? Thank god i never actually turned in my application to work at Forever 21.
- watched ROBOCOP with Will. I want to be reinforced with steel. This is not a new desire, thanks to Will Smith and that one movie with aliens (specific) where i dug my nails into Conrad's leg because I was so scared and left a scar.
- I ran into a post when I was running and got a mark on my shoulder that looks like a hickey. My Dad asked about it; I told him guys are just crazy for my gunz.
- I got some clothes from a store other than Unique?!? It was a rare day.
- My cat went snooping through every box in my room. Such a snoop. Snoop cat, if I may. Hahahahaa
- My aunt and cousin came to visit. We saw Casablanca at Wolftrap. It makes me wish that it WAS jacket weather, just so I could be wooed by some guy in a trench. (trench coat. Just to clarify. I'm not big on Immersion foot disease.
- i got a coffee pot for my desk at college. Going to be a crazy year at college, getting drunk (on coffee) ALL THE TIME. Mix that with staying up all night to watch Gone with the Wind, and you might say I'm out of control.
And, lastly, a joke for you herbology majors.
Fin.
Here's some bad comics to get you through your week without Julie:
disclaimer: best when read at 3 a.m. Preferably, also when drunk/tired/high/on a coffee high. Also part of this disclaimer- I can draw much better (like a freakin' Leonardo). I can also draw worse.
Some going-on's from last week:
- NEW PATRICK WOLF!!!! His album, Lupercalia, is like being a seduced by Nessie. Trust me.
-Butt slasher?!? Thank god i never actually turned in my application to work at Forever 21.
- watched ROBOCOP with Will. I want to be reinforced with steel. This is not a new desire, thanks to Will Smith and that one movie with aliens (specific) where i dug my nails into Conrad's leg because I was so scared and left a scar.
- I ran into a post when I was running and got a mark on my shoulder that looks like a hickey. My Dad asked about it; I told him guys are just crazy for my gunz.
- I got some clothes from a store other than Unique?!? It was a rare day.
- My cat went snooping through every box in my room. Such a snoop. Snoop cat, if I may. Hahahahaa
- My aunt and cousin came to visit. We saw Casablanca at Wolftrap. It makes me wish that it WAS jacket weather, just so I could be wooed by some guy in a trench. (trench coat. Just to clarify. I'm not big on Immersion foot disease.
- i got a coffee pot for my desk at college. Going to be a crazy year at college, getting drunk (on coffee) ALL THE TIME. Mix that with staying up all night to watch Gone with the Wind, and you might say I'm out of control.
And, lastly, a joke for you herbology majors.
Fin.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Harry Potter? Lemon Sherbet!
*this post contains so many spoilers that if you were planning on reading any of the Harry Potter novels than you should probably just close the entire window.*
I’m so excited about tomorrow! The Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, part 2, comes out at midnight, which means that work tomorrow is going to be a monstrous affair of time moving epically slow. I’m going to see it at AMC with Christine, and we’re dressing up (House elves forever!).
To prepare myself, I’ve been re-reading the second part of book seven, for the second time this summer. Nerd, I know.
Anyway, re-readingt he second part, and I always come to chapter thirty four, where Harry is apparently just been killed, but isn’t dead because he has a bit of Voldemort in him because Voldemort apparently entered Harry when he tried to kill him the first time as a baby. And then Dumbledore is there and is like, you aren’t dead, because Voldemort made himself using your blood in book four, so really, you two are made of and share the same blood and therefore, him killing you two seconds ago really just killed the bit inside of him that he put there when he was a baby. SO, now Harry is all Harry, and Voldemort is both Harry and Voldemort, which is the bit that doesn’t make any sense to me because wouldn’t that mean that Voldemort also has one of these purgatory times? I guess not, because when he “killed” Harry (just now), he too was affected. I guess that’s their cleansing moment, when they’re no longer connected.
See, it’s so unnecessarily confusing. And although I think I’ve explained it to myself and am content to know that Rowling and I are on the same page now, it only takes me about ten minutes before I’m like, waaait, that doesn’t make ANY sense. Kind of like Donnie Darko.
And then there’s the bit with the wands. Somehow, the Elder wand belongs to Draco, whose randomly the master and NOT Snape, because Snape helped him die. The one, supposedly, who defeated Dumbledore, without ever knowing it, was Draco.
BUT THIS NEVER HAPPENED. EVER.
The Elder Wand somehow recognized Draco as its master, though Draco never knew, and why should he, because he didn’t defeat Dumbledore at all. Like, no. Absolutely not.
And then, of course, Harry disarmed Draco weeks before, and that if the Elder Wand is aware of this fact, Harry is the Wand’s true master.
And I don’t understand this. And it makes me angry.
*Just kidding. It all make's sense now. See, Draco disabled Dumbledore, which apparently is the same as "defeating" him. Also, auto-correct wants me to change Dumbledore to Dumbwaiter.*
I hope for the movie that they try to keep it as close to the book as possible. But this scene… Also, the epilogue. I hope they don’t do the epilogue. For obvious reasons. Of course, it cant be as good as THIS Harry Potter movie.
I feel no shame in saying that I’ve also gone through other pains to prepare for tomorrows movie premiere. Such as reading *gasp* Fan Fiction.
I always thought Fan fiction writers were lazy and otherwise incapable of creating their own characters and backstory, and that their stories would just be, well, bad. I, like many people, have spent life under the view that fan fiction is porn (Harry and Draco slash anyone?) or that it reads like it was written by (and for) middle schoolers.
But today I read an article in TIME magazine where it discussed the misconceptions and ideas surrounding Fan Fiction, and I guess that changed my mind behind the whole premise. It’s kind of cool that these people do so much writing on a subject without ever expecting a penny for their work. It’s cool to think that these people are so devout as fans to a piece of writing that they would give up their valuable time to create more about these fictional characters that were, honestly, someone else’s creation entirely.
I can totally see both sides of the argument, that is, that the writer created the characters and that its almost unethical to let someone else mess with your vision, but the fear that they will change their characters is unnecessary. Fan fiction writers become fan fiction writers because they can love and identify the characters and just never want their story to end.
In a way, it’s the ultimate compliment. You made a character that other people love so much that they never want them to die. In other ways, it’s an insult to a writer, who made the character, which needed the writers to, shall I say, bring them to life.
The piece I read was named “Crossroads”, by Emmyjean. The whole thing is online, and I spent almost five straight hours sitting on the floor reading it (because who needs chairs?). It was about Lily and James Potter, about their relationship that led to their marriage. It was very well done- no grammatical errors, no spelling errors- and the story was almost entirely her own, that is, she used the pieces from Rowlings work to create the story, but it wasn’t as if she didn’t take creative license with it. And best of all, it was really very tasteful and I feel like Rowling would read it and, if not agree with it, at least be touched by the way her characters came to life.
I’m so excited about tomorrow! The Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, part 2, comes out at midnight, which means that work tomorrow is going to be a monstrous affair of time moving epically slow. I’m going to see it at AMC with Christine, and we’re dressing up (House elves forever!).
To prepare myself, I’ve been re-reading the second part of book seven, for the second time this summer. Nerd, I know.
Anyway, re-readingt he second part, and I always come to chapter thirty four, where Harry is apparently just been killed, but isn’t dead because he has a bit of Voldemort in him because Voldemort apparently entered Harry when he tried to kill him the first time as a baby. And then Dumbledore is there and is like, you aren’t dead, because Voldemort made himself using your blood in book four, so really, you two are made of and share the same blood and therefore, him killing you two seconds ago really just killed the bit inside of him that he put there when he was a baby. SO, now Harry is all Harry, and Voldemort is both Harry and Voldemort, which is the bit that doesn’t make any sense to me because wouldn’t that mean that Voldemort also has one of these purgatory times? I guess not, because when he “killed” Harry (just now), he too was affected. I guess that’s their cleansing moment, when they’re no longer connected.
See, it’s so unnecessarily confusing. And although I think I’ve explained it to myself and am content to know that Rowling and I are on the same page now, it only takes me about ten minutes before I’m like, waaait, that doesn’t make ANY sense. Kind of like Donnie Darko.
And then there’s the bit with the wands. Somehow, the Elder wand belongs to Draco, whose randomly the master and NOT Snape, because Snape helped him die. The one, supposedly, who defeated Dumbledore, without ever knowing it, was Draco.
BUT THIS NEVER HAPPENED. EVER.
The Elder Wand somehow recognized Draco as its master, though Draco never knew, and why should he, because he didn’t defeat Dumbledore at all. Like, no. Absolutely not.
And then, of course, Harry disarmed Draco weeks before, and that if the Elder Wand is aware of this fact, Harry is the Wand’s true master.
And I don’t understand this. And it makes me angry.
*Just kidding. It all make's sense now. See, Draco disabled Dumbledore, which apparently is the same as "defeating" him. Also, auto-correct wants me to change Dumbledore to Dumbwaiter.*
I hope for the movie that they try to keep it as close to the book as possible. But this scene… Also, the epilogue. I hope they don’t do the epilogue. For obvious reasons. Of course, it cant be as good as THIS Harry Potter movie.
I feel no shame in saying that I’ve also gone through other pains to prepare for tomorrows movie premiere. Such as reading *gasp* Fan Fiction.
I always thought Fan fiction writers were lazy and otherwise incapable of creating their own characters and backstory, and that their stories would just be, well, bad. I, like many people, have spent life under the view that fan fiction is porn (Harry and Draco slash anyone?) or that it reads like it was written by (and for) middle schoolers.
But today I read an article in TIME magazine where it discussed the misconceptions and ideas surrounding Fan Fiction, and I guess that changed my mind behind the whole premise. It’s kind of cool that these people do so much writing on a subject without ever expecting a penny for their work. It’s cool to think that these people are so devout as fans to a piece of writing that they would give up their valuable time to create more about these fictional characters that were, honestly, someone else’s creation entirely.
I can totally see both sides of the argument, that is, that the writer created the characters and that its almost unethical to let someone else mess with your vision, but the fear that they will change their characters is unnecessary. Fan fiction writers become fan fiction writers because they can love and identify the characters and just never want their story to end.
In a way, it’s the ultimate compliment. You made a character that other people love so much that they never want them to die. In other ways, it’s an insult to a writer, who made the character, which needed the writers to, shall I say, bring them to life.
The piece I read was named “Crossroads”, by Emmyjean. The whole thing is online, and I spent almost five straight hours sitting on the floor reading it (because who needs chairs?). It was about Lily and James Potter, about their relationship that led to their marriage. It was very well done- no grammatical errors, no spelling errors- and the story was almost entirely her own, that is, she used the pieces from Rowlings work to create the story, but it wasn’t as if she didn’t take creative license with it. And best of all, it was really very tasteful and I feel like Rowling would read it and, if not agree with it, at least be touched by the way her characters came to life.
Monday, July 11, 2011
Eulogy for Aniene
The other day was one of the most stressful days I have ever had.
I was prepared to give a Eulogy for one of my closest friends, which it turns out, is a lot harder than they (meaning anyone else) make it look.
What happened was, I spent the entire day before sitting around and not writing down anything, but instead making a rather angsty watercolor.
And then, when it came to be my turn to talk, I just kind of sniffled loudly into the microphone, claimed “sorry, that was gross,” and then burst into tears.
I feel really bad about that.
So, I wanted to make up for my inability to speak, and to share my speech here instead.
When everyone talks and remembers Aniene, they remember the stories she used to tell. There were the particularly grand ones, about her father finding gold and bank robbers, and there were those stories that were almost too good to be true, about her best friends who were made for each other but waited until time and circumstance decided it had waited long enough for them to be together.
And although Aniene’s stories were the highlight of my highschool working career, it was the things outside of her memories that I think we should remember. We should remember the little things she did without needing to tell anyone, without asking or needing to be recognized.
Without having been asked twice, Aniene spent hours of her time to make a quilt for battered children, putting aside her valuable time for people she didn’t even know. Aniene took phone calls at two a.m. and could recognize people she hadn’t talked to for thirty years. She invited people into her house and made them feel at home when they had nowhere else to go.
One of the most amazing things that really sticks with me is the time she let Andrew stay on her couch for a week after he had his wisdom teeth taken out. His parents were gone, his house was empty, so Aniene stepped up, compassionate towards someone who was basically a stranger, and took care of him like a son.
This is the image of Aniene that I will always remember:
She was loving, kind, compassionate, and selfless. She loved to make others happy, to sacrifice her time and resources to see others smile.
Aniene would have found a way to spin this into a story, which would have led into a side story, which would have led to another, further removed story, but the things that she did outside of the time she spent working were just as monumental as the things she shared.
And I feel that, although she's gone, we should never forget her attitude towards others, and that she will continue to live on through her loving example.
I was prepared to give a Eulogy for one of my closest friends, which it turns out, is a lot harder than they (meaning anyone else) make it look.
What happened was, I spent the entire day before sitting around and not writing down anything, but instead making a rather angsty watercolor.
And then, when it came to be my turn to talk, I just kind of sniffled loudly into the microphone, claimed “sorry, that was gross,” and then burst into tears.
I feel really bad about that.
So, I wanted to make up for my inability to speak, and to share my speech here instead.
When everyone talks and remembers Aniene, they remember the stories she used to tell. There were the particularly grand ones, about her father finding gold and bank robbers, and there were those stories that were almost too good to be true, about her best friends who were made for each other but waited until time and circumstance decided it had waited long enough for them to be together.
And although Aniene’s stories were the highlight of my highschool working career, it was the things outside of her memories that I think we should remember. We should remember the little things she did without needing to tell anyone, without asking or needing to be recognized.
Without having been asked twice, Aniene spent hours of her time to make a quilt for battered children, putting aside her valuable time for people she didn’t even know. Aniene took phone calls at two a.m. and could recognize people she hadn’t talked to for thirty years. She invited people into her house and made them feel at home when they had nowhere else to go.
One of the most amazing things that really sticks with me is the time she let Andrew stay on her couch for a week after he had his wisdom teeth taken out. His parents were gone, his house was empty, so Aniene stepped up, compassionate towards someone who was basically a stranger, and took care of him like a son.
This is the image of Aniene that I will always remember:
She was loving, kind, compassionate, and selfless. She loved to make others happy, to sacrifice her time and resources to see others smile.
Aniene would have found a way to spin this into a story, which would have led into a side story, which would have led to another, further removed story, but the things that she did outside of the time she spent working were just as monumental as the things she shared.
And I feel that, although she's gone, we should never forget her attitude towards others, and that she will continue to live on through her loving example.
Monday, June 20, 2011
Renouncing Girly Ties.
I'm sick of girly things.
I’ve always loved and was slightly jealous of girls who have enough self esteem to wear bright pinks and lacey crap. Also, taking time to do makeup? Or taking time to actually match clothes? Shoes with heels? Girls are just amazing.
I started being more girly after I chopped off all my hair and started to be mistaken for a boy. It never really did feel right, as explained below in my not-really-a-graph-but-this-website-wont-let-me-import-my-fancy-pants-graph-so-this-will-have-to-do .
Age ---- Girlyness (or lack there of)
5. Thought I was a boy
10. Accepting I was a girl, but perfectly capable of beating any boy (or girl) in the mile
15. Told I was pretty, but "probably didn’t realize it” and should, therefore, wear clothes that hadn't, at one point in time, belonged to Eric.
17. Decided it was time to add femininity to my appearance to counteract the short hair
19. Whatever.
I’m just finished with a girly façade. To me, it seems like just too much effort, plus I can’t wear heels without being super paranoid that I’m going to break my ankles and therefore not be able to run. Also, my hair is a longer (yet still ‘lesbian length’), so at least people are clear on my gender.
What this means:
A. No more creepy dolls in my room.
B. I will probably be taken for a lesbian more often/will continue to date closet gays.
C. Everyone else I hang out with will babeify x 9264, making me a necessary accessory for improv nights.
D. I can fill science major stereotypes
Not a long list, seeing as I was only attracted to the idea of girlyness for about a year and wasn't nearly as girly as I could have been.
Other boring news updates:
1. Something got hold of Pippin and now he’s got a nasty scratch running from his eye to his nose.
2. They finished re-doing a sidewalk on my normal running route. I no longer need to run around a group of construction workers. And, the new sidewalk is pretty grand.
3. Finished reading The Lovely Bones. Working in a store that sells dollhouses, I must say that Sebold made an excellent choice of a creepy hobby for her killer.
4. Also finished Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn, which may or may not have something to do with my new-found dislike for girly things.
Okay, so I wrote that last week, than was like, ‘nahh im not going to post this for more than a two minute window’ in which Christine somehow found it. And it’s a good thing I didn’t, cause there’s something I want to add.
After I wrote this, I painted my toe nails.
So, I guess I lied?
But if anyone wants a few pairs of heels, let me know.
I’ve always loved and was slightly jealous of girls who have enough self esteem to wear bright pinks and lacey crap. Also, taking time to do makeup? Or taking time to actually match clothes? Shoes with heels? Girls are just amazing.
I started being more girly after I chopped off all my hair and started to be mistaken for a boy. It never really did feel right, as explained below in my not-really-a-graph-but-this-website-wont-let-me-import-my-fancy-pants-graph-so-this-will-have-to-do .
Age ---- Girlyness (or lack there of)
5. Thought I was a boy
10. Accepting I was a girl, but perfectly capable of beating any boy (or girl) in the mile
15. Told I was pretty, but "probably didn’t realize it” and should, therefore, wear clothes that hadn't, at one point in time, belonged to Eric.
17. Decided it was time to add femininity to my appearance to counteract the short hair
19. Whatever.
I’m just finished with a girly façade. To me, it seems like just too much effort, plus I can’t wear heels without being super paranoid that I’m going to break my ankles and therefore not be able to run. Also, my hair is a longer (yet still ‘lesbian length’), so at least people are clear on my gender.
What this means:
A. No more creepy dolls in my room.
B. I will probably be taken for a lesbian more often/will continue to date closet gays.
C. Everyone else I hang out with will babeify x 9264, making me a necessary accessory for improv nights.
D. I can fill science major stereotypes
Not a long list, seeing as I was only attracted to the idea of girlyness for about a year and wasn't nearly as girly as I could have been.
Other boring news updates:
1. Something got hold of Pippin and now he’s got a nasty scratch running from his eye to his nose.
2. They finished re-doing a sidewalk on my normal running route. I no longer need to run around a group of construction workers. And, the new sidewalk is pretty grand.
3. Finished reading The Lovely Bones. Working in a store that sells dollhouses, I must say that Sebold made an excellent choice of a creepy hobby for her killer.
4. Also finished Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn, which may or may not have something to do with my new-found dislike for girly things.
Okay, so I wrote that last week, than was like, ‘nahh im not going to post this for more than a two minute window’ in which Christine somehow found it. And it’s a good thing I didn’t, cause there’s something I want to add.
After I wrote this, I painted my toe nails.
So, I guess I lied?
But if anyone wants a few pairs of heels, let me know.
Monday, June 13, 2011
Oh hai weekend.
Basically just had the best week of my life.
How is that possible, you might ask, when I had previously been through monumental times such as seeing Patrick Wolf, being born, or eating bagels for breakfast (and in that order too)?
First I went camping with Christine and Eric, probably the two greatest people on the planet. We went to the Shenandoah Mountains and hiked Old Rag, where we took eight hours to go up the scramble and down the boring-ish walk past some shelters which, believe it or not, Old Rag himself lives. Although, by now, there are so many generations of Old Rag, and some of them are still Young Rag and Baby Rag, that it isn’t that impressive. We also met this pot-smoking hipster who told me that I wasn’t posing as Jesus correctly, and then began to discuss with his friend how Pho noodles are the epitome of Chinese food. (they’re Vietnamese).
We then sketchily gathered some firewood from Big Meadows, and go attacked by an owl. Falling asleep was easy after the 8.59 miles we had hiked, squeezed, and managed to pull ourselves through, although breakfast of instant coffee (yuck) and instant oatmeal (yuck) was not the best to wake up to. The night before we had a few fake hot dogs and some marshmallows before the campfire went out, because it was so incredibly windy. Even after all our effort to collect firewood in a some-what illegal fashion we still had to use Christine’s little camping stove, which requires ridiculous amounts of pumping gas and holding matches dangerously close to said gas. I even had to rip out pages of Tom Sawyer to get our fire going, but I’m sure Mark Twain would have been proud of that.
Then, after being completely worn out, we went to Dinosaur land. Dinosaur land is pretty much a bunch of old papier-mâché statues of dinosaurs, some more hilarious than others, which are joined by King Kong, a giant Praying Mantis, and a Squid. Although we spent only about 30 minutes in the actual park, I say it was well worth the $5 admission ticket plus gas money. Also, I learned some important historical lessons, such as, "black widow spider is so named because it kills its mate after mating. How foolish can the female get?" Thanks guide book.
THEN I got to go see THE ROOM live action play! THE FIRST ONE… EVER. As director, producer, and lead actor Tommy Wiseau himself said, June 10th will forever be a day written in history books. Then an interview with him and Greg Sestero where I learned that it is always better to give 20% rather than 100%. Oh, and pictures with both of them, handshakes, signatures, and a comment to “enjoy our life.”
Thanks to you Tommy, I will.
How is that possible, you might ask, when I had previously been through monumental times such as seeing Patrick Wolf, being born, or eating bagels for breakfast (and in that order too)?
First I went camping with Christine and Eric, probably the two greatest people on the planet. We went to the Shenandoah Mountains and hiked Old Rag, where we took eight hours to go up the scramble and down the boring-ish walk past some shelters which, believe it or not, Old Rag himself lives. Although, by now, there are so many generations of Old Rag, and some of them are still Young Rag and Baby Rag, that it isn’t that impressive. We also met this pot-smoking hipster who told me that I wasn’t posing as Jesus correctly, and then began to discuss with his friend how Pho noodles are the epitome of Chinese food. (they’re Vietnamese).
We then sketchily gathered some firewood from Big Meadows, and go attacked by an owl. Falling asleep was easy after the 8.59 miles we had hiked, squeezed, and managed to pull ourselves through, although breakfast of instant coffee (yuck) and instant oatmeal (yuck) was not the best to wake up to. The night before we had a few fake hot dogs and some marshmallows before the campfire went out, because it was so incredibly windy. Even after all our effort to collect firewood in a some-what illegal fashion we still had to use Christine’s little camping stove, which requires ridiculous amounts of pumping gas and holding matches dangerously close to said gas. I even had to rip out pages of Tom Sawyer to get our fire going, but I’m sure Mark Twain would have been proud of that.
Then, after being completely worn out, we went to Dinosaur land. Dinosaur land is pretty much a bunch of old papier-mâché statues of dinosaurs, some more hilarious than others, which are joined by King Kong, a giant Praying Mantis, and a Squid. Although we spent only about 30 minutes in the actual park, I say it was well worth the $5 admission ticket plus gas money. Also, I learned some important historical lessons, such as, "black widow spider is so named because it kills its mate after mating. How foolish can the female get?" Thanks guide book.
THEN I got to go see THE ROOM live action play! THE FIRST ONE… EVER. As director, producer, and lead actor Tommy Wiseau himself said, June 10th will forever be a day written in history books. Then an interview with him and Greg Sestero where I learned that it is always better to give 20% rather than 100%. Oh, and pictures with both of them, handshakes, signatures, and a comment to “enjoy our life.”
Thanks to you Tommy, I will.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
A super long title that has abso-flippin-lutley nothing to do with the blog post yayayayay!!!
So, every time I go out gardening, I’m like, dude, I should blog about this! (cause I’m always calling myself dude). And then I remember that no one in their right mind wants to hear about how I pulled up my moms Black Eyed Susans thinking they were weeds, and left the weeds thinking they were my Moms B lack Eyed Susans. I think I’ll start a band and call it Black Eyed Susans, then we can tour with the Black Eyed Peas, only we can, like, playing bagpipes and conga drums instead of making bad dance songs with people dressed like arrows dancing in the back ground.
So, instead of boring you with gardening stories and going off on tangents about non-related subjects, I am going to give you:
Julie’s list of BEST/WORST THINGS EVER (aka, things that pop into my head from my last week at home).
Best.
1. That little dagger thing that my Grandpop got for my Mom for her birthday. It’s for gardening when you want to be hardcore and only carry one tool around that does the job of every single other gardening tool invented (except the watering can). Basically, it’s my favorite thing this week.
Worst
1. The stupid leaf-streetsweeping truck. Thanks to that stupid tax-money wasting thing, my morning of sleeping in and enjoying the bliss of not having to go to work was ruined by the need to get up and shut the window and jam my head under the pillow because they’re machine is the loudest thing ever and this is a really long sentence which is never going to end weeeeee!
2. But seriously, the street sweeper is not nearly as bad as the construction that was right outside my window for the ENTIRE FLIPPIN YEAR, even during final week, which is supposed to have 24/7 quite hours… and they started before 7a.m., which means that even if you are blessed enough to have 8:00 am classes cancelled, you still get the wake up drone of construction. And it’s not even like their good looking construction guys or anything, which would have been the least thing that UMW could have done to rectify itself for this evilty.
Best
2. UMW is actually the home of the Dismemberment Plan, a band that I’ve been listening to since Eric introduced them to me in Middle School. I’m so proud.
Worst.
3. Even though they came form UMW, I highly doubt that they’ll be having a concert there anytime soon seeing as their too cool for school.
Best
3. I re-read the Hobbit in my spare time. It was so good, and now I’m 10x more pumped for the movie!!!!!!! I think I’ll dress up as a dwarf, or maybe the bear man. That would be pretty cool. I can put on a bear costume, and throw on some armor and stuff over top.
4. Boromir is on Game of Thrones as the main character, sporting his LOTR hair style and everything, which means that I can be totally nerdy AND in touch with current TV shows.
Worst.
4. I don’t think I get HBO and I can’t find it online, so I have to watch clips online and make up my own plot… which is probably a lot more interesting than what is actually happening anyway.
So, instead of boring you with gardening stories and going off on tangents about non-related subjects, I am going to give you:
Julie’s list of BEST/WORST THINGS EVER (aka, things that pop into my head from my last week at home).
Best.
1. That little dagger thing that my Grandpop got for my Mom for her birthday. It’s for gardening when you want to be hardcore and only carry one tool around that does the job of every single other gardening tool invented (except the watering can). Basically, it’s my favorite thing this week.
Worst
1. The stupid leaf-streetsweeping truck. Thanks to that stupid tax-money wasting thing, my morning of sleeping in and enjoying the bliss of not having to go to work was ruined by the need to get up and shut the window and jam my head under the pillow because they’re machine is the loudest thing ever and this is a really long sentence which is never going to end weeeeee!
2. But seriously, the street sweeper is not nearly as bad as the construction that was right outside my window for the ENTIRE FLIPPIN YEAR, even during final week, which is supposed to have 24/7 quite hours… and they started before 7a.m., which means that even if you are blessed enough to have 8:00 am classes cancelled, you still get the wake up drone of construction. And it’s not even like their good looking construction guys or anything, which would have been the least thing that UMW could have done to rectify itself for this evilty.
Best
2. UMW is actually the home of the Dismemberment Plan, a band that I’ve been listening to since Eric introduced them to me in Middle School. I’m so proud.
Worst.
3. Even though they came form UMW, I highly doubt that they’ll be having a concert there anytime soon seeing as their too cool for school.
Best
3. I re-read the Hobbit in my spare time. It was so good, and now I’m 10x more pumped for the movie!!!!!!! I think I’ll dress up as a dwarf, or maybe the bear man. That would be pretty cool. I can put on a bear costume, and throw on some armor and stuff over top.
4. Boromir is on Game of Thrones as the main character, sporting his LOTR hair style and everything, which means that I can be totally nerdy AND in touch with current TV shows.
Worst.
4. I don’t think I get HBO and I can’t find it online, so I have to watch clips online and make up my own plot… which is probably a lot more interesting than what is actually happening anyway.
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