Black-Eyed Susan

I’m getting a hair cut tomorrow!

I’m so excited! I made this appointment like three weeks ago (the girl who cuts my hair is really good and subsequently popular).

Hair cuts are so magical, especially the shampoo. Jesus Mary and Joseph Stalin, having your hair shampoo’d by another person is the best thing ever.It’s incredibly relaxing and basically a cheap way to get a quick scalp massage.

I guess it’s not so much a hair cut as a trim. I’m still trying to grow my hair out but my ends are split to hell and I want that shampoo, dammit. I also want some layers and my bangs cut. This hair is hella thick and needs to be thinned out every once in a while. Otherwise it’s like having a wool coat on in July.

Idk why I even made a post about this, I guess so you guys could know about my unnatural love of getting my hair washed.

So I found a disc of pictures circa 2008 from when I visited my cousin in Oregon and OH BOY DO I LOOK 16.

In my defense I didn’t know I was going to Oregon so I had to stop by a thrift store and buy a bunch of cold weather clothes on the way. 

How to have a Thursday morning like mine:

• Don’t do your homework and go to a concert.
• Arrive home at midnight and decide to do homework at 4 in the morning so you can get a few hours of sleep.
• Also eat popcorn and toast.
• Wake up at 4 feeling unsatisfied with yourself.
• Write 3 and a half pages of utter bullshit, promise yourself this will never happen again even though that’s what you said last time.
• Realize that you never installed your printer software and cannot find the disk so you have to go to campus early to print your paper in the library.
• Tumblr.
• Coffee.
• Feed dog and feel guilty when you deny him access to your room but not guilty enough to let him in.
• Realize that you need to shower badly.
• Pull warm towel from the dryer and slam finger in dryer door for the second time this week.
• Sob quietly.
• Take off clothes to shower.
• Realize that at some point between being clothed and being naked your house was transported to the deepest, coldest part of the Arctic Circle. Also realize that your robe is far, far across the room in one of your many clothes piles.
• Be torn between standing in the cold of the bathroom until the shower reaches an optimal temperature or making a mad dash across frigid wooden floors for robe.
• While the dash might warm you up, the former option requires less movement.
• Take the lazy man’s way and freeze to death.
• Carelessly jump into shower without properly checking the temperature.
• Third-degree burns.
• Sob quietly.
• Squirt apple body wash in eye. Eyes weren’t meant to smell like apples, what were you thinking?! You and your pipe dreams.
• Turn off shower in defeat.
• Somehow round-house kick your laptop as you get out of the shower.
• Realize you still don’t have a robe.
• Concede to just use the warm towel.
• Blow dry hair.
• Oh awesome, your face. Let’s put stuff on it!
• Haphazardly slap make-up onto face in an attempt to salvage the morning.
• Make this tumblr post.

I haven’t made a personal post in quite some time, so I thought, why not?

Christmas break has been very nice. It’s just the three of us- Mom, Dad, and I- and this year it has been particularly warm and cozy. I spent today pantsless and braless and watched Christmas movies with Mom and Dad.

Let me tell you, there is no greater joy in life than being braless. Oh, how I wish I had bosoms manageable enough to wear without a bra. Alas, this pipe dream will never reach fruition.

Mom and I have baked like beasts this year. Cookies, fudge, bunt cakes, breads, and we even made a bread pudding like the one in A Christmas Carol! It was really good. I got the recipe from my Harry Potter Cookbook that I somehow forgot about. It was a bitch, though; I’ pretty sure we will never do that again.

Our neighbors have been particularly friendly this year as well. My parents and I are a clan of recluses and homebodies. Very rarely do we voluntarily interact with our tight-knit community. So this year, when a slew of neighbors showed up giving us stuff, I had to check outside to make sure no one had posted a sign on our lawn that said, “Free steaks and macaroni n’ cheese!” or “Here lies the great temple of Teotihuacan, god of the sun. No virgins, just cookies!” (Not that I’m complaining.)

It’s been nice seeing my best friend from home, Courtney. We always have a blast when we hang out. It’s such a shame that I can’t come home and visit more often, or she can’t come to Oxford to visit. But such is life.

Hmmm. I wish I could put all of my friends on a boat and sail them out to a private island. Then all of my friends would be in one convenient place! Actually, scartch that. Private island = not very convenient. I’m going to try again.

I wish I could put all of my friends in the bed of a truck and drive them to a spacious holding facility, not unlike one used to store commercial cattle. Then all of my friends would be in one convenient place! Better.

OH. Have I told you guys what my Christmas Eve gift was? A KINDLE. I was really torn, because I’ve been one of those that has pledged to remain exclusive with physical books. But… God, the Kindle is so cool. I’m reading Bossypants on it and it is PREMIUM. I’m sure I can find a happy medium between e-books and book books.

Okay, well… That’s it. I’m going to stay up until 5, wake up my parents, open my presents, eat delicious pancakes, and sleep the day away.

Merry Christmas, Tumblr!

I got breakfast with some friends Sunday morning.

I was the first to arrive, so naturally I went ahead and got a table so we could beat the Sunday morning rush. The waitress lead me to said table and I sat down. The next thing I knew I was being wrapped in a bear hug by some mysterious striped shirted figure. I was like

because I didn’t see his face. But then I caught his smell and I realized it was my ex.

I was like OH NO. NONONONONO.

but at the same time I was like

He’s that ex.

I somehow managed to keep my cool and just be like

and smile like an idiot.

The waitress put me at the table next to my ex and his friends and I was in the chair facing him, so there was no avoiding conversation.

Expectations:

Reality:

I was alone for like five minutes and I imagine he was feeling pretty smug with his stupid friends there, all brotastic and Jack Johnson-y. He and his friend asked about my classes and life and I was like

because he basically ignores/doesn’t talk to me half of the time unless he wants something or feels guilty about not talking to me. I’m assuming this was a case of the latter.

BUT THEN LIKE MERCIFUL ANGELS OF AWESOME MY MOTHERFUCKING FRIENDS CAME IN.

They apparently saw him as they were coming in. They sat down and looked at me like

I sort of dismissed it and we proceeded to have a delicious breakfast dance party.

DAY COMPLETE.

• went to class
• worked out for over an hour
• bathed
• ate leftover Indian food

Now it is time for napfordshire.

When you send someone a text message and they don’t reply for like five hours.

Packing my suitcase for the trip back to Oxford tomorrow!

Yes, it has been a wonderful summer. Now it’s time to hit the books once again and move into my first apartment! I’m moving in with my Freshman roommate Kimmie and her friend Ashley. She seems super chill and really fun, so I am a bit excited!

Going back to school is always bittersweet for me. On one hand I am SO GLAD to get away from my parents. When I think about having free range again I get all

Now don’t get me wrong, I love love love them, and I am so lucky to have parents that care about me so much. But at the same time their love can be overwhelming (not to mention suffocating) when I’m home for extended periods of time. 

But when I think about leaving my best friend Courtney behind I get all

because we are soul sisters and never run out of things to talk about. 

On a more positive note, I’m getting my hair cut and some highlights done at 2:30! I had my hair dyed once, but I’ve never had highlights done. Having my ears pierced AND getting highlights, all in one summer? Whoa there, Susan! There’s no stopping you!

This always happens.

I end up having a paper due on Monday but I spend all of Sunday sleeping off Saturday.

Then I decide to sleep until 3:30 a.m. and work on my paper until class at 8 a.m.

But instead of working, my brain takes a detour and I get on Tumblr and fail life.

I’m just going to tell you about my weekend.

So Friday I was cooped up in my room reading and that was really nice. I actually slept. Saturday I went to The Square with a couple of my friends. My list of purchased items includes:

• one cute dress
• one bottle of wonderful perfume
• one delicious steak sandwich from Newks
• one big-as-yo-head ice cream sandwich from the weird pottery store that I’m pretty sure no one actually buys pottery from
• Stephen King’s Desperation
• Dhalgren by Samuel R. Delany
• The Monsters of Templeton by Lauren Groff
• By George by Wesley Stace
• The English Major by Jim Harrison (I felt like the title was speaking to me because I’ve always felt like I’m just putting off becoming an English major)

It was a successful trip. Armed with books, I went home (read: the dorm) and started eating my lunch. My friend and I had plans to go to Memphis that evening to see a band. I felt invincible.

Of course something had to go awry. 

When I paused to get my ID card out so I could scan into the dorm, I must have placed my car keys in my Newks bag out of convenience. I forgot about this until later that evening when I was getting ready to go to Katie’s house to get ready for our big night. I suddenly remembered throwing away my bag because my room is absolutely trashed and I was trying to be a clean, proactive human being. 

Our dorm has a trash chute that leads to a dumpster located behind the building, hidden from the public eye. No body wants to go back there, so I made sure I wasn’t missing any obvious clues. A quick double-check of all of my usual “lost spots” (desk, chair, open suitcase, car, pockets, front desk of Stewart Hall) confirmed my worst fears:

My keys were in the dumpster.

I knew the maintenance staff was off on weekends but just to be sure I asked the front desk clerk. I called Katie but I knew she didn’t have a car. I called my mother but immediately regretted it; she panicked and claimed I should call the police to get it out for me. I quickly lied and told her I had found them underneath my desk before hastily hanging up. The last thing I needed was to become the laughing stock of the Oxford PD.

I don’t have a lot of experience diving in dumpsters, and personally I don’t think that’s a bad thing. In fact, I make a point to avoid dumpsters at all costs. Dumpsters contain (or could contain) lots of scary things: raccoons, feral cats, homeless men, serial killers, or all of those things combined into one monstrosity. They are also smelly and unpleasant to look at. However, I knew what had to be done.

I decided the best way to go about this was to fish the Newks bag out of the dumpster with some sort of stick or stick-like object. Luckily I have a Swiffer in my car. Even more lucky was the fact that I have a key pad on my door so I could get into my locked car without keys.

I approached the dumpster and looked for a way to climb inside. This dumpster was at least nine feet tall and at just a little over 5 feet I was dwarfed. I was about to scale the damn thing when I found it: a sliding latch on the side of the dumpster that reached a little above my waist. I was overjoyed, or at least as overjoyed as I could be standing next to a dumpster. I carefully slid open the latch and realized there were worse things than homeless feral catcoon serial killers.

There were giant swarms of bees.

I’m really glad it was summer and campus was practically deserted, because a chubby blonde girl brandishing a swiffer sweeper mop like a medieval weapon and running wildly away from what to the naked eye looked like a normal dumpster probably seemed a little off. I dove into a bush (which in hindsight seems like a more likely place for bees to hang out). I knew I had to regroup. A single bee I could handle, but a swarm of them? Not even I, with my perfect kneecaps and sickly Aryan skin, could win that battle. 

I did what I normally do in situations like this. I called Brannon.

Brannon is my best friend/ex-boyfriend of four years. We have a complex relationship and far too much in common. I like to think of him as my male doppelganger. Mostly, however, we lean on each other for support and play video games/watch movies/go out to eat together. 

Brannon picked up on the first couple of rings. I explained the situation and sought his counsel. Honestly I just wanted him to drive to campus and help me; however I am a prideful creature when it comes to Brannon. He knows this (intuitively at least), and after twenty seconds of giving me useless tips for fighting off a swarm of bees, he asked if I just wanted him to come over and get the keys the himself.

“If you’re not too busy, it’s whatever,” I said in my best cool kid voice. This is hindsight, though, so it may have sounded more like,

“WOULD YOU PLEASE I AM SO SCARED I WAS EXPECTING RACCOONS BUT I GOT BEES AND NOW I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT TO DO urghblurghurgh.” (The last bit was me crying.)

I remained in the bush for an undetermined amount of time until I heard Brannon calling my name. I emerged from the foliage and he jumped. Knowing better than to ask why I was crouching in a shrub clutching a Swiffer he asked me to take him to the dumpster. It’s right there you brave wonderful jerk, I wanted to say, but I bit my tongue. As we approached what I am now positive was a portal to Hell I formed a shield between the dumpster and myself using Brannon’s body. 

He glanced into the open door and then looked at me. “There’s like three bees in there.”

I looked past his shoulder. The dumpster looked like a bee pit. It looked like Narnia if Narnia was full of shit and bees and Aslan was a giant bee.

“Are you blind?! LOOK AT IT!” He gave me that expression I was by now conditioned to. I wouldn’t call it disbelief or disappointment or even frustration. Maybe it was all three.

I’m going to call it love.

I’m pretty sure Brannon isn’t as bothered as he lets on by my misadventures. In fact, this is the first really terrible thing that has happened in a while. I suspect he was getting restless from my lack of fail anyway. In a way I was doing him a favor.

He gently took the Swiffer from me and asked which bag was mine. I pointed to (what I hoped) was my Newks bag. In one graceful motion he fished out my bag, grabbed the keys, and returned the bag to the dumpster. The bees did not seem displeased. He shut the sliding panel and that was that.

I threw myself at him, thanking God or Dumbledore, whomever had provided him with the magic to subdue bees and speak Beetongue. 

We talked for a bit, then he left. I felt like a wizard.

I recounted this tale to Katie, who did not seem as amused as I was. This is normal. We left for Memphis, saw a couple of bands, then headed back to Oxford to eat at Ihop. I stayed at Katies talking to everyone that was there until 5 in the morning. I slept all Sunday.

And now here I am, my paper (rough draft) is due at 10:45 and I have not even finished the introduction.

The amount of relevance is almost sad.

itsonlyokaywhenisayit:

blameitonkarofsky:

adlergasm:

disco—lemonade:

shibangshoobop:

c0mmanderup:

50 State Stereotypes

#oregon lol

lolWe have walmart

WHERE WHITE PEOPLE MUSIC COMES FROM.  YES.

I’m proud of this stereotype.  lol

“It’s too cold to be sober”

Yeah… it’s true…

“SERIAL MAKERS…SERIAL KILLERS!”

askjfbasjfafasf its funny cuz its true

Like regular Mexico, but with more UFOs

Brb dying….

“We’re gonna need a bigger Biblebelt.” LOLOLOLOL

TAKE PRRIIIIDEEE, MISSISSIPPI! Yee-haw.

(Source: organizationxiii, via foreverabitterbitch)

Things I did today:

• Helped my dad fix the TV
• Watered the garden
• Laid out wearing my SPF 110
• Still managed to get a burn
• Bought books at bookstore
• Had lunch at my favorite Mexican restaurant with Courtney
• Got snow cones and watched traffic go by (w/ Courtney)
• Went walking in the park (w/ Courtney) 
• Ran away from park when spotted by high school kids
• Discussed our both feeling like pedos when we encounter high schoolers despite only being out of high school for a year
•  Went to bakery, bought lemon squares
• Dropped Courtney off
• Drove home
• Ate delicious salmon dinner with family
• Watched cartoons
• Painted nails
• Ate pudding
• Tumbled 
• Forever alone

Of rompers and finals.

Finals have reduced my mediocre-looking skin to a crater-filled oil field with pulsing red mountains and rivers thick with pus. (Imagery is awesome.)

This explains why when I smiled at people in the library last night

They were like

GET THE FUCK OUT OF DODGE AHHHH HER FACE.

Yeah, pretty gross.

When all of this school nonsense is said and done I am going to once again begin my hunt for a flattering romper. I have an oddly shaped body that typically only looks good in empire-waisted clothes. Most rompers are not empire waisted, however— there en-lies my challenge.

It’s kind of funny that I’m thinking about rompers when I should be focusing on my finals today, but my brain is so flighty and eager for summer I can barely take it. I studied for a good while this weekend and I only absorbed like 2%. I am really worried but at the same time eerily calm.

I’m going to a hip concert tonight! FUN FUN

I’m sure my usual charm, grace, wit and amazing dance moves will make an appearance and impress the cool people.

Yup.

So I’m at the gym

And my iPod dies yet again.

Since I had already finished my book during Anthropology and I didn’t bring a back-up book (yes, I usually bring a second book in case I finish the first too quickly, nerd derp) I was forced to pause my work-out and pick up one of those germy community magazines.

As I was about to settle for an old copy of People, however, something caught my eye. I moved aside Tom Cruise’s big head to find a copy of Time! 

I mounted my stationary bicycle and resumed my work-out. Everything was going peachy. I even found a super interesting article in Time about Burma and Aung San Suu Kyi, also known as The Lady of Burma. Long story short, she’s a pretty kick-ass chick.

So I’m reading my article and getting really into it. I’m almost to the meat of this interview and I turn the page….

SOMEONE HAS RIPPED OUT LIKE TEN PAGES.

Who does that???

Go home, Time magazine terrorist!