Running Is Blowing My Mind

I just ran for 50 minutes with my roommate. I haven't placed my pretty little feet on concrete since August to do anything other than briskly walk. I might be having a mild heart attack. My fingers are all tingly. Say prayers I don't just die.

No Surprises

I'm not depressed. This is just how I feel.

No Surprises

A heart thats full up like a landfill,
A job that slowly kills you,
Bruises that wont heal
You were so tired, happy,
Bring down the government,
They dont, they dont speak for her
Ill take the quiet life, a handshake of carbon monoxide

No alarms and no surprises, no alarms and no surprises
No alarms and no surprises
Silent, silent
This is my final fit, my final bellyache with
No alarms and no surprises, no alarms and no surprises
No alarms and no surprises, please

Such a pretty house, such a pretty garden
No alarms and no surprises, no alarms and no surprises
No alarms and no surprises, please



Oh Radiohead. You speak to my soul. I just want no surprises. I want to be happy and know that I'll continue to be happy. Is that too much to ask for? I think not. And you know what, I think I am going to get it :)


www.youtube.com/watch?v=qqsyXdj_p_I

Back to Blogging? Maybe?

So. It is the misery of the class that is Charles Dickens which has driven me to blog again. Right now, someone is droning on and on about the early life of the Pickwick Papers. It's awful. Beyond awful. I need to learn not to be so judgmental or angry when I feel frustrated with my fellow classmates. Instead, I am going to be positive, and blog. Good idea? Yes. I think so. Becca would be so proud.

Hmmph

So, I have decided to try blogging again. I know, I know. You are thrilled beyond belief. You're welcome.

In all seriousness, though, I guess I underestimated the power of the blogging community. Recently, I talked with a gentleman regarding a magazine he writes for. I told him I was an English major who enjoyed writing when he asked if I would ever be interested in contributing articles and such. Then, he asked the question of all questions: "Do you blog?"

Confused and slightly bewildered at the relevancy of this question, I said, "Uhh..no." As you can tell from my really lame blogging abilities, that was a true statement. His response to that was "oh," and I was suddenly labeled as the girl who hates blogs. So, I am just here to set the record straight. I don't hate blogs; really, I don't. Well, I guess THAT isn't completely true. I DO hate some blogs, but only a select few. For the most part, I think I am just secretly jealous of the hilariously entertaining blogs with cool themes and designs. Now you know everything about me.

Personality Tests Blow My Mind

INFJ? ESTP? ISTP? So you are probably thinking..."What does this mean!? What are all the random letters?"

Let me just tell you, I love personalites. For the past few days, I have been obsessed with discovering the letters that define / describe my personality, while also diagnosing all of my friends and co-workers with their respective letters. Introvert? Extrovert? Sensing? Intuitive? Thinking? Feeling? Perceiving? Judging? Yes, those are the questions that I strive to answer.

After spending countless hours staring at my computer screen to the wee hours of the morning, I feel safe stating that I am a personality guru. Seriously. I even met the man dubbed "THE Personality Guy," and I'm pretty sure he was impressed by the skills Jessica and I had.

So, if you want me to tell you your horoscope..oops, I mean personality- let me know. You might be surpised. And yes, letters do define who you are.

Warning: I thought I was an INFP, however, THE Personality Guy told me I was definitely an ESFJ. So yeah, I was pretty wrong with myself, but don't judge me. I just didn't want to the be personality type that is described as being a "doormat." Seriously. I think he might be right though...

The People Outside

My house has many windows. During the day, I see SO many people walking outside. But let me tell you something: these people are not ordinary college students. They are trendy walkers, stylish bike riders, and intense joggers. It is some strange anomaly. When I lived closer to campus, I never saw people like this. So my questions are: Where do they come from? Why do they all live around my house and in my ward? and lastly....Why are they all so intimidating?

So tonight, I decided to attempt to join their ranks. Jessica and I walked outside casually and almost immediately, we made friends. Two fairly interesting gents paused to talk for a moment. Seconds later, a guy named Boo riding a 1959 Vespa stopped to join our conversation. Following that, a car stopped and another dude befriended us! People honked and waived and bikes passed in harmony with our group of people. And somehow, I felt really accomplished being one of the cool people outside.

Wow. My life is so lame at times. These meaningless things just make my heart happy. I'm just so fascinated that being outside has become the "in" thing these days.

The Curious Incident of the Cat at Late Night

So, at 4:19 this morning, I suddenly woke up thinking only one thought: "Chocolate milk!" Those who know me can attest to the fact that I absolutely love chocolate milk- and living with Becca only increased my unquenchable thirst for chocolaty goodness. However, milk was a bad choice. I had been awake all night feeling horribly sick and was slightly delirious with a fever. So yeah, water would have been the better option here. Oh well, I just love chocolate milk.

Back to the story though. I stumbled out of my bed, managing to make it to the kitchen- even though I was incredibly dizzy. As I opened the fridge and spied the sacred bottle of Hershey's syrup, I suddenly heard something crying. I was seriously scared out of my mind because I knew it wasn't my puppy and my roommate's cat can't make any noises other than that of a dying cat. I looked around the kitchen, clutching the chocolate syrup and thinking I was most likely delusional. Then, I heard it louder and louder and looked at the window to see a HUGE black cat sitting on my window sill watching me. We made eye contact (which was discomforting), and I swear he bowed his head or SOMETHING. Outside, it was raining pretty hard so I guess it was crying because it was stuck out in the weather. This was all too Poe-esque for me. Seriously. When do massive black cats appear in the middle of a rain storms? In horror movies or other creepy X-Files episodes. So, I did what any intelligent person would do. I took my chocolate milk and fumbled my way back to bed.

For the next HOUR, I lay awake on the OPPOSITE side of my house hearing the cat crying. I'm not completely heartless, so I finally went to the door and tried to get it to come inside. For ten minutes, I begged the cat to come inside, calling it "kitty, kitty" and offering it cat food. It just stared at me and would almost come inside before running off and crying again. Some things just don't want my help or want to be saved. Lesson learned.

So because it didn't want to come inside (and I didn't want to hear it cry), I scared it away, chasing it off of my front porch. When I got back in bed, I thought about all those crazy things you hear about black cats. OK. Let me just say again that I was sick and tired and that this was just SO WEIRD! I'm not really superstitous, but I thought for kicks I would google if this cat was supposedly bad luck. This is what I found (and I have not altered this in the least):

Bad Luck Associated With Black Cats Include:

Meeting a black cat early in the morning.
Having a black cat turn its back on you.
Scaring or driving away a black cat from your property.


I'm screwed.