About 7,000

15 02 2013

My phone has not received a single text message for about 5 hours.

As I sit here doing homework, I have a random thought:

I came to the conclusion that the reason I hardly text anyone is because everyone in my phone I already know enough about. I mean, why have the same old boring conversation with the same old boring people? (Not that I don’t love all my friends, I’d just rather see them than text them). Then I think to myself: Jeri, you go to a college with about 7,000 students. Why don’t you meet some new people? Genius. That way I can have exciting new conversations with exciting new people. Problem: Jeri, you walk around campus and sit at tables with your headphones in making zero eye contact with anyone. You’re never going to make new friends like that. Idiot. As much as I LOVE listening to my music all day in between classes, I think next week I’ll leave them at home, and smile at people more often. If by next Friday I don’t have at least two new friends, I’ll be angry at myself. No ice cream for me.





Multiple Scoregasms

13 02 2013

“It’s been one of those days you try and forget about, take a shot and let it out, let’s get right, now that I’m here baby, show me a good time.”

My life has been nothing but busy, and I keep taking too many naps. Need to get reorganized and refocused. Need … chocolate.





Moose

4 02 2013

Well well well… I feel like crap today.

My insides hate me so much. One after another after another after another. I totally forgot the Super Bowl was yesterday, and that meant festivities at the apartments. Ugh.

I really don’t remember how I got home, but I went to bed with a PB&J that I only took two bites of. Woke up sticky. Terrible ideas.

Ate a fiber one bar this morning. Not sure if that helped or hurt. I am currently on my second bottle of water, but that doesn’t seem to be helping much either.

I will probably never play Moose again.

Fun nights = bad mornings. Worth it.

And now I sit in the science building on my break between classes and think. The one overpowering thought right now is very basic. Why didn’t I remember my headphones? These bitches beside me are making my headache so much worse. “Do you think he’ll text me? I think he will. Oh my god, what if he doesn’t text me? That’ll be SO AWFUL. I’ll be so embarrassed. What should I do? Should I just text him now?” Seriously? I. Hate. Girls. If I were a guy, I’d definitely be gay.





PB&J and Pretzels

3 02 2013

Well today looks a lot like the last. It’s 12:33 p.m. and that means peanut butter and jelly sandwich, 28 pretzel sticks, and a liter of clear american pom blue acai sparkling water. It also means it is time for homework. But first, a random thought:
It seems so easy to get a hold of famous people nowadays. I mean, with twitter and instagram, as long as you tag them in a post at the right time, there’s a really good chance they’ll read it. That makes me wonder if celebrities creep on people? Now, I’m a professional creeper, especially on famous people. Example: Wrekonize is a rapper in a group called ¡MAYDAY! and they aren’t too well known so every once in a while I post something (lyrics, or another random thought) and tag him in it. He usually reads it and responds at least once, which is pretty damn cool to me, you know, cause I listen to his stuff all the time. This has happened maybe, 5 times, in the last few months, which makes me wonder… has he ever crept on me? I have him on twitter and instagram and I just feel like it would be so easy. On the other hand, he knows I’m a fan. So, do famous people even bother creeping on, or attempting to talk to someone they know is a fan? If they don’t then how do they meet anyone?! Especially when we’re talking about really famous celebrities, everyone knows who they are, so how do they meet or make friends with new people?! I think I’d like to be famous someday. Yeah. I’d talk to my fans, I think.





Six Cold Feet

2 02 2013

I’d like to first say that I created a WordPress in high school for a photography class, and have always meant to return to make it into a real blog. I have plenty of thoughts that I think would be better out of my head, whether someone else reads them or not. This semester I am in a creative writing course, and what better way to get better at writing than to blog? Here we go.

Today is a boring day to say the least. The snow is incredibly stubborn and refuses to stay in the sky, despite my desperate pleas for warmer weather. They are calling for 4 inches tonight, which usually proves unhelpful at work. People don’t feel the need to eat out in weather like this, but I can’t blame them, I’d stay home too if I could. However, if I stay home, I will not be able to purchase the green grapes that I’ve been craving for what seems like years, but realistically may have been about two days.

Anyways, the snow has made me think a lot about death. The movie “The Grey” is stuck in my mind too. Random thoughts, random thoughts, random thoughts. As I type, the song, “Six Cold Feet” by Hugh Laurie shuffles on my iTunes. Fitting. I nod my head to the slow tempo of the piano music, enjoying every beat of the drum, pluck of the guitar, and various other instruments I am sadden to say that I cannot recognize. Saxophone, I think. “Remember me baby, when I’m in six feet of cold, cold ground.” That in itself just sounds awful. I think I’ll be cremated. Yes. Ashes. That’s a much better way to go, right? From a biological standpoint the decay of the human body would be repulsive. So many dead cells and tissue just releasing chemicals and unimaginable odors. Stuck in that little box… no, thank you.