Life of a College Grad... Where Are My Mentures?

When I was in college, I had no life. I took a bajillion classes, and worked a thousand jobs. Okay, don’t give me that look, maybe that is a bit of an over exaggeration. I did however, take 5-10 classes a semester, work 2-3 jobs, and have 1-2 volunteer jobs at any given time. So life was busy, and I barely had time to live. I promised myself that after I blew that joint that I’d devote my life to well, living. I also knew I needed to devote some time to figuring out what I really enjoyed doing. I had all these wonderful ideas… I thought I’d like going on vacations, exploring new bars and clubs, learning to play the guitar, or having a Royal Wedding. I was sure that once I graduated that I’d be an infinitely more interesting person.

What the hell was I thinking? Truth is, I’m a very boring person. I know it’s hard to believe after reading this blog and realizing how hilariously awesome I am… but it’s true. Since I’ve graduated, I’ve found that that thing I enjoy most is watching every episode of any TV show surrounding the Kardashian family (except Dancing with the Stars because I hate that shit and Rob’s not nearly as interesting as his sisters). My last semester of college, I wrote a blog post that I never published about how the Kardashians almost made me fail college, and now I’m writing this post to tell you that the Kardashians (along with some help from the cast of the Jersey Shore) are making me fail life. DVR is not helping either.

Maybe, just maybe, I'm not boring, but really suffering from a severe life sucking addiction. The first step to getting over any addiction is admitting you have a problem right? So maybe there’s hope for me yet. I’m kind of thinking (hoping... praying...) that this addiction to the Kardashians has more to do with the fact that the overload of work and studying I’ve done over the last few years turned my brain into mush, so the Kardashians are all I can really process at the moment. It’s like when you lose all your teeth after years of meth and tootsie rolls and the only thing you can eat is pudding until you get some dentures. Hopefully my mental dentures will come in soon. I’d like not to be such a loser.

Until my mentures (good word for mental dentures?) come in, I’m going to keep a list of all the things I’d like to do when I take control back of my life.

-Write in this effing blog more
-Get back to reading for fun
-Start drawing again
-Plan a vacation
-Get Keeping Up With the Kardashians on DVD

Hey, I’m not cured of my addiction quite yet.

Hey Look, a post in which my head explodes and I become an Alcoholic... in that order.

I am a giant spaz. GIANT. Pretty much anything that happens or that I have to deal with stresses me out and then I have panic attacks until everything is resolved. This morning I was on hold with my college financial aid office for like, 900 minutes, because I needed to make sure that since I just changed my WHOLE class schedule, and I was 3 units short of full-time until I get added to the two classes in which I'm on the waitlist (URGGG), my loans wouldn't turn their back on me making me unable to pay for school in my second to last semester. This is most likely all my fault, but I'd like to examine the ways in which it’s not ENTIRELY my fault.

My school decided to move the location of one of my classes without letting me know, which is a bitch move, School, BITCH MOVE. In the whole history of my being at this school, I've always taken classes in the same building or the building right next it. FOR TWO YEARS. I transferred in and after finally deciding to be a psych major, the majority of my classes have been in the psych building. I really only know THIS part of campus. I haven't had to traipse around finding this building or running off the print shop, or bookstore, or student union. I understand that these acts may enhance my college experience, but you know, when I have to work three jobs in order to pay for said college experience, I'm too damn tired to do much exploring. Teach me, and let me go home.

Anyway, so, the school decided to move my last class of the day ACROSS CAMPUS which, if you think about it is like almost a mile and a half away. No way are my midget legs carrying me to a foreign part of campus I've never been to in ten minutes. No way, I say. I found this horrifying bit of news out three days ago, and this of course sent me into a panic. Since no one could give me any GOOD ideas (though I did get suggestions such as: buy a scooter. Buy a rocket pack for the scooter. Steal one of those golf carts campus security drives around in. Seduce and sleep with campus security... to get free rides in said carts. Learn to fly. NOT HELPFUL!!!) and my panic attack was full blown, my anxiety grew giant hands and clicked the "drop" button next to the course name.

My panic subsided for all of ten seconds, until I realized I really effing needed that class and then another typhoon of anxiety washed over me. Now I had to search for THREE classes to make up for the ONE I just dropped. Of course, a week before school starts all of the good classes are basically full. At this point I'm shaking my fists through my anxiety attack at my irrational anxiety induced solution to drop the last class. After an hour of searching and being denied and searching I opted to waitlist on Human Sexuality (which is also not in a building I know of, but is relatively closer and there is a 4 hour gap during which I have PLENTY of time to leave one class and find that one... plus I've already taken it, and loved it, so it should be easy), and enrolled in an online course called, get this, Nature and World Culture. SHOOT ME. JUST GET IT OVER WITH WHEREISYOURSHOTGUN? I didn't find a third class, but I have space in my schedule next semester to fit it in, so I'm ok.

The one class I dropped was a 6 unit course, leaving me three short of the necessary 12 to fulfill my loan agreement. So while, I did possibly find replacements, I was still on the waitlist for one of the replacements (ps, I was already on a waitlist for another class I desperately need to graduate) meaning I'm still 3 units short of my loan money and must now kiss my dreams of getting a PhD goodbye, drop out of college and get a job at Mackers (that's McDonalds for all of you who have never had a roommate move to Australia for six months then come back speaking something that's totally not English, mate).

So, back to waking up this morning with an elephant sitting on my chest. I immediately dialed the number for the Financial Aid office, got kicked around through four different people, each time I was placed on hold the psycho-killer vein on my forehead enlarged twice its size, and then finally was placed on hold for 900.. or maybe 20... minutes. This let loose a new set of anxiety as I'm trying to remember how many minutes I have left, and if I go over those minutes how I will pay for the overages (stripping, hooking, drug selling, Mackers in that order). By the time the woman answered the phone the psycho-killer anxiety had crept into my voice and I'm sure I sounded quite insane as I babbled this whole story to her very quickly in a squeaky syrupy voice.

Then, the woman said, "Don't worry. We won't drop you until September, goodbye".

A three day long anxiety attack took only took 8 words to fix. So after I hung up, I opened and drank an entire bottle of Two Buck Chuck at 10:30am.

Let’s recap. The SCHOOL fucked up. My FRIENDS gave me horrible suggestions. My ANXIETY grew hands and dropped classes. The SCHOOL put me on hold.

It’s not my fault.

Now I need to go buy more wine before my roommate notices a whole bottle is missing.

Eff 2009!

Good-friggin-bye, 2009. Just four more hours and then I'm rid of you. I can't wait to watch you go and for 2010 to march in. I have big hopes for 2010, at least, I'm hoping it isn't as dumb and smelly as you were.

Things I'm looking forward to (forget the "Best of 2009"):

1. Chelsea Handler's third book will be released in March of '10.

This bitch is funny, need I say more? Go read her books My Horizontal Life, and Hello Vodka, Are You There? Its Me, Chelsea before March 9th so that you can be up to speed for her next master piece.

2. I may finally get to graduate from college (maybe).

Hopefully I will have my diploma rolled up tightly in my fist by next December so that I can move on to graduate school. If I do that, I will be one step closer diagnosing your psychoses.

3. Possible move to the East Coast.

This is all contingent on getting that illusive diploma. Once I do so, I can attend grad school in Rhode Island or Maine or New York or something. Somewhere waaay on the other side of the country from where ever the hell I am now.

4. Another of the Twilight movies will be released.

Upon release we will be one step closer to ending the pandemonium that is tweenaged girl's, and Team Jacob shirts because, it will become painfully clear that JACOB NEVER HAD A CHANCE. Though, those Jacobers could save themselves the inevitable disappointment and embarrassment and just read the friggin' books...

5. No longer having to refer to the year as "Ohsomedumbnumber"

Gayest way to state the year, ever.

New Decade's Resolution (because lets face it, I can't accomplish anything in a year, its too much pressure):

1. Write in this blog more.

I know that you all wish I would, because you have nothing better to do with your lives, and mine is oh so much more amazing and entertaining than yours. I will try hard, just for you.

2. Listen to more Country Music.

Get your jaws off of the ground. I feel like country music will be great inspiration for resolution number 1. Maybe I can start describing my life to you in Reba's lyrics. It will, if nothing else, give me more to mock for your pleasure.

3. Pay off my credit card bill.

I may have to resort to prostitution or working a fourth job at McDonald's, prostitution before Micky D's, but, whatever I have to do, I will do. I want to end this abusive relationship with the creditors of First Financial.

4. Raise a plant.

Every plant I've ever had died. Even flowers, though they're meant to die, die faster at my hands. I'm not sure what it is, maybe I don't talk to them enough, maybe its that lack of water... whatever it is, I am determined to keep a leafy green thing alive.

5. Become Chelsea Handler's Protoge.

Chelsea Handler is my number one role model, and if, after finally graduating college I can spend some time under her wing, my life would be complete. I'm also sure this would benefit you, via this blog, so pull all your strings, interweb.

Ok, this is the last time you will hear from me for the REST of the year. Be sad. Miss me, but go bring in the New Year right.

Tell me how long before the last one? Tell me how long before the right one?

Soy Milk.
Peanut Butter.
Oatmeal.


When I was a kid, I hated all of these things. As an adult, these are the staples of my life. I wonder, have I actually grown to like these edible items? Is this the cause of that sophisticated pallet the wise adults tell you you'll gain in your old age? Or is it just the economic recession?

Reduced Fat Peanut Butter was 1.99 at Target last night. I bought two bottles.

Affordable just tastes so damn good.