I couldn’t stay away from blogging forever

televisionmusings.blogspot.com

Lucky you guys!! I decided to write about sitting in front of the tv all day!

Last Post

I’m sorry, but this is going to have to be my last post. I know I’ve said that before, but I think I’m done now. Thanks to all of you who have read.

That damn kid

I went out with this 21-year-old a few times. Aside from my complete inability to refer to him as anything other than “that kid” he’s just not a good match for me. I gave him a chance. I went out with him four times, which is probably some kind of record of some sort with me.

But anyway, he is just so apathetic about everything and generally lacking in personality. I always decide where to eat. I had to drive him home because I can hold more alcohol than he can (not a lot for either party). He hasn’t tried to kiss me. I thought he needed to man up.

Last time we saw each other, he told me he “had no morals.” I think that was his way of trying to get me to say I don’t want to date anymore. Of course, because I am stubborn and crazy my automatic response is to want to continue to date him out of spite until he balls up and tell me he doesn’t like me. Of course then I would be the one behaving without morals, so this is what’s going to happen: he’s not going to call me again and I’m not going to try to get in touch with him or ask him what happened. We’re both misanthropes. I know what happened. We just don’t like people, so how can I be surprised when we don’t like each other? He is a person. I think.

I actually wouldn’t be all THAT surprised if I found out he was a robot.

Sometimes it takes less than 1 minute for me to admit that I’m being crazy

Today I gave a lesson on dangling modifiers. One of my students turned in a short writing assignment that contained a dangling modifier within the FIRST SENTENCE.

Anyway, I automatically assumed she did it on purpose to piss me off. Several hours later I realized that I was being crazy. I’m getting faster at that!

So for those of you who always suspected that your English teachers were crazy… they were– they always are. Yes, always.

Shoe Laces in High Definition

I really need to move out. My parents are, well, they are my parents and Egyptian, and don’t understand the concept of privacy, because privacy is apparently just something Americans invented because they don’t love their parents enough to want to spend any time with them.

And I like my parents, but I cannot get anything done with them around. If I try to read in the house while my dad is home, he’s like a perpetual sabatour. He interrupts me for any reason whatsoever. Once, he interrupted me to tell me how much he loved high definition television. My natural response was to flip out and tell him not to interrupt me unless it was actually important. Minutes later he interrupted me again. Why? Because he wanted to show me his new shoe laces. “Doesn’t it look like I bought a new pair? And all I did was replace the laces.” Aaaand, I went absolutely ape shit. Actually, I didn’t at that moment, but the next day I heard my dad talking about his shoe laces to my  mom… that is when I went ape shit. I was like FOR HOW LONG MUST I HEAR ABOUT YOUR GOD DAMN SHOE LACES?

There is so much more I don’t want to get into, but needless to say, I’m dying to move out. I’m thinking of graduating early, skipping my thesis and forgetting the PhD altogether so that maybe I can get a job at a junior college and make an actual salary. What I make now is symbolic. It’s like they’re paying because it’s illegal not to pay me, but they might as well not be paying me because I got paid significantly more filing stuff at C&D. I just need to tough it out for a little while longer.

This encompasses about 50% of the stuff I am currently pissed about.

So yesterday I gave one of my students a very long and somewhat embarrassing lecture about the nature of responsibility. He asked if he could leave class early because he “has to go to work and make money.” So I was like “Yes, you also have an obligation to be here, so if you want to leave, you can, but things like this effect your participation grade.” And he tried to be like “I need money to survive,” which was like… “Yeah, I know, that’s why you pick one and deal with the consequences of the other. CONSEQUENCES!” Jesus. And this particular student is like 4 years older than me.

Another thing that annoys me, is that, the editor of the magazine I’m working for sent me the pdf of our magazine and assumed that I knew that meant it was going to press in like 2 days and that I needed to proofread about 100 pages in 2 days. Needless to say, since I didn’t know the deadline, I got to it a few days later, found some typos and sent them in and she was all “this already went to press, I assumed you read my mind and knew that I’d only give you the pdf at the very last second.” So now there are TYPOS WITH MY NAME ATTACHED TO THEM. Which is cool here, but as a secondary editor to a magazine that nobody reads, I’m very, very upset. NOT COOL and totally her fault. I mean, come on, we’re freaking grad students, give us like a week and if you’re not going to give us that week, then TELL US when the deadline is. It’s not like I don’t have other important things to do, like go on dates with a 22-year-old who I cannot stop calling “that kid” and blogging (about it and other stuff.)

I told my students that from now until the end of the semester they are dealing with an angry crazy person, so to tread carefully.

Who said I have to turn 25 tomorrow?

Are we really confined by the rules of the “time space continuum”? I just decided to be 24 again.

My sister said she sent me a check and I was all “thanks, but I feel weird taking money from my little sister,” so she was like “Ok, don’t cash the check, or I’ll go back in time and be older.”

But here’s the good news Jenny, in another year, we’ll be the same age, and after that, you will be older than me .

Epic Fail

I failed my comps. So, that was a bummer, but then I got drunk, so I’m back at one.

I actually drank a very small amount, but Justin’s breathalizer said I was over the legal limit for almost the entire night. Taking a breathalizer to a bar is a fun thing to do. With Justin’s breathalizer all you need to do is blow ON it, but half the drunk people at the bar, after explaining how to use the breathlizer to them, just stuck the breathalizers in their mouths. Justin doesn’t read this anymore because he said that reading my blog and knowing me was redundant, but I’m pretty sure his breathalizer has herpes… and that is not something I am telling him in real life. Yeah, that’s right Justin, nobody calls me “redundant” and gets away with it.

Anyway, aside from failing my comprehensive exam and secretly infecting Justin with mouth herpes, nothing much of note has been going on, but the last fortune cookie I got promises things will change soon. I put it in one of my pockets and every time I find it I’m like “Oh cool! Look! How unlikely is it to find an encouraging fortune in my jacket pocket, that I put there and never threw away! The cosmos or God or whoever truly does favor me.”

Match III

I went out with this younger guy today….and I actually liked him. He was kind of adorable and seemed really sweet. Maybe I won’t be cashing in on my 6 free months from Match after all…. which kind of pisses me off because, dammit, I expected a year!

I rejoice in every small victory!

I think that of all the classes I’ve taken before, I’m having the most fun in my class. Let me tell ya, getting to decide everything for once is super awesome, especially after I’ve been in school FOREVER and have had every different kind of weirdo teacher in the world.

Flint and Nate have been engaged in a several day long debate (epic battle) over e-mail about concealed handgun licenses. Nate forwarded it to me, and it made the perfect lesson. It was great, because Nate and Flint are good debaters AND hilarious and got my class all debating. Like… even students that don’t talk, talked. I got my students to think about important stuff!

I rejoice in every small victory.

I hope nothing happened!!

Tonight I went over to Kristen’s house, watched Top Chef, hung out for like 30 minutes and came home. I opened the door at around 10:30. My mom heard me open the door and said hello, so I said hi, and she asked me, really concerned, if everything was okay.

Actually, my parents ask me this EVERY SINGLE TIME I come home, and finally today, I was like “I’m home at 10:30, it’s not that late, why do you always sound so concerned?”

So my mom was like “Well, you’re usually out late, and I think, ‘She’s out late; I hope nothing bad happened! Then when you get home early I think, ‘She’s back early, I hope nothing bad happened! So… Catch-22.”

Yeah, that makes me feel bad for more reasons than I can write. Just listen to Journey and ease the guilt Jackie, eeeaaase the guilt.”

Match Dot Com Update

It turns out he’s a real person and wasn’t smart enough to be offended.

I really hate the dating world.  I’m having a really hard time finding someone I like. I know I’m picky, but I feel like I’m putting forth enough of an effort to at least find people that I know are people and not internet spam.

Match Dot Com

I just asked a guy on Match if he was a person or spam… not to be mean, but because I couldn’t tell… and if it IS a person and not spam, then he needs to get a better personality so that you can tell the difference.

Kumar looks like Indian Zach Braff, but cuter… or am I weird?

Most of my male friends have, at one point or another, made some sort of overt pass at me as I was beginning to become friends with them. I just had this conversation with Kevin (Barney) the other day.

Kevin, Justin, and Nate were playing Halo and I was reading. I didn’t think they were paying attention so I started adjusting my bra a little bit, and I think that Kevin sensed that I was touching my breast, because he turned around and said:

Kevin: Hey Jackie, do you want to practice love making?

Me: What does that even mean?

Kevin: Doin’ it?

Then today I got some fancy looking Sam Adam’s intense hops beer (Side note: do NOT drink anything that says intense hop flavor, that stuff was undrinkable among 5 frequent beer drinkers who all like hops)  and he said, “That looks sexy, can I have a taste of that later?” and I was like “Are we talking about the beer??”

Anyway, not that I don’t enjoy Kevin’s one-liners and innuendo’s because I totally do, but what ever happened to the good ole’ days? What happened to making a girl think you like her than avoiding her afterwards? Is this the new trend… just… hitting on people you know? I know I missed the last few seasons of Friends, but I think it may have had a damaging effect on society.

Is it depression?

What is it that keeps me in bed until 2PM on days that I don’t have anything scheduled? I have no problem conducting my day to day life, with semi-regular hours and getting things done when it ISN’T spring break, but there is something seductive about spring break that makes me think “Jackie, you have to do all your sleeping for the rest of the semester RIGHT NOW because you’ll never get another chance to do this.”

St. Patrick’s day was a great way to start spring break… kind of. I had a great time, made some pretty toasted phone calls, wished someone a happy Thanksgiving (thank you Jesus for St. Patrick’s day car bombs.)  And spent a good portion of Tuesday drinking water and asking myself “Why? WHY? WHYYY?”

My birthday is coming up, and I’m thinking of a pot-luck dinner, and Pictionary because I just can’t ingest alcohol anymore. The notion of the words Irish followed by “Car Bomb” or “Whiskey” or “Green Beer” still make me a little nauseous, although I didn’t throw up… and I’m considering that my little St. Patrick’s day miracle.

Get hydrated before you drink kids! (I’m not condoning children drinking, unless by children you mean 10-year-old Europeans, because they can handle their drink.)

Online Dating

Rather than tell everyone how ridiculous online dating is, I will show you, with a series of letters…

1. I’m amphibious–can use a spoon with either hand. Wreck Ognize!

Your nose is even cuter than that of a kitten. (And not just an average ol’ mangy one, either.)

Given the foregoing, I get the feeling that we might be able to entertain one another just by chatting! Accompanying each other to coffee tyme? Apoplexy may result. Meaningful glances across a crowded room = The Plague pt. 3, and accidentally eating the same piece of spaghetti is sure to cause total matter to energy conversion…of the moon?

Might be safer limiting ourselves to email for now.

Tchoos!

And my personal favorite

2. ur yummy, hit me back!

I think I said specifically in my profile “do not speak to me in internet slang,” so maybe this guy was just being hilariously ironic. I guess we’ll never know.

My life is a sitcom evidence volume XVIII

My sister Kristy has returned home from break, and as always, I am having great fun with her. We both recently confided to each other that even though we are actively pursuing our dreams of being an English professor and medical doctor, we still secretly want to be comedy writers like Tina Fey. (Kristy and I both want to be Tina Fey so badly that we actually just had this conversation, “Me: Do you want to watch an episode of 30 Rock and be inspired. Kristy: I just finished watching the entire first season.”)

Anyway, we’ve decided that this summer, we’re going to devote serious time and energy into developing a television show, not really with television goals in mind, but more to write something good and funny, or if not, at least having fun and staying goal-orientated (how soccer mom is that of me?)

I also had the opportunity to sit in the same room as my sister and listen to an ABSURD conversation she had with her boyfriend. Keep in mind, I can only hear her side of the conversation, but I’m putting it in dialog form so that you, the hypothetical reader of my blog, can surmise his responses.

Kristy to me: Did you know that Kyle said that he would not break up with me if I gained weight, but he would break up with me if I dyed my hair pink.

Me: So?

Kristy to Kyle:Because I would want to date you MORE if you had a mullet.

Kristy: But it’s different when you dress like a cowboy, because everyone knows you’re being serious. If you had a mullet, everyone would know you were joking.

K: I don’t want you to get a mullet, but I wouldn’t break up with you if you did. Actually, no, I think it would be cool if you got a mullet.

K: I don’t know, I guess I could get a mullet too.

K: What? I’d be the one making a sacrifice! People would just assume that I was a lesbian, a mullet won’t change how people perceive your sexual orientation.

(I like that Kristy has brought to surface the unfair double-standard of mullet assumptions.)

Later in the conversation…

K: I want you to grow your hair as long as humanly possible just to see what it would look like. KYLE– WHY HAVEN’T YOU UPLOADED BABY PICTURES ONTO FACEBOOK that was my one request for you upon returning home.

After she got off the phone I said, “Kristy, I think Kyle appreciates you for who you are. She responded, “Yeah, he would HAVE to.”

A week late, but that’s how grad school makes me fly

I think I may be alone in my apathy toward Gunn. He’s not a designer, so what’s he doing on Project Runway? He’s a sculptor or something.

Anyway, I enjoyed the finale. Jillian’s boyfriend looks like Jemaine from Flight of the Conchords, and her family and home is not what I expected. She’s really kind of beyond fabulous: 26, skinny, talented and gorgeous.

I loved Christian’s apartment. Or was that an apartment? I think it was a room with a toilet and a microwave? Rent $1,200 a month.

I watched the finale with my dad and he kept talking over all the fashion saying “What’s that? Nobody can wear that! Feathers?!” So I was like– look dad, before Project Runway opened my eyes, I had the same provincial perspective as you, but fashion coutour isn’t meant to be worn, it’s art.

Then later I was like “Man, I freaking hate this book I’m reading,” and he responded “It’s not meant to be read Jackie, it’s literature coutour.”
(That’s how I feel about Virginia Woolf.)

Really specific racism is my favorite kind of racism.

Nate: Don’t you want to watch Beowulf?

Me: No, I’m not into that fantasy/action genre.

Justin: But it was the first story…

Nate: Ever!

Me: No it wasn’t. Beowulf is just when your ancestors decided to catch up with the rest of the world. (Justin actually IS of British descent, Snowdonian descent to be more specific.)

Justin: But look at what we’ve done since then, they don’t call your country developing because it’s awesome.

Me: Ok, whatever, just don’t say it was the first story ever when it was just the first story in English.

Justin: It’s the first story that mattered.

Justin got in a few other good lashes against my heritage including:

“At least we didn’t need aliens to help us build Mount Rushmore.”

And my personal favorite…

“If someone shot off the nose of George Washington, we’d fix it.”

Pro-Obama! PrObama!

I took the master’s comps this morning. I was the last one into the test and the first one out; I then immediately crossed the street and started drinking beer. Yeah, so if I managed to pass (they fail 60%) I’m going to talk so much shit. Shit like crazy. I only drank like 2 beers, but I might possibly have been kinda, sorta, “legally drunk” when I voted today. Luckily, I had made up my mind to vote for in advance. It was kind of exciting. There were so many black voters and young voters and really, really old voters being wheeled around on rolling chairs. There was a long and consistent procession of people walking to the voting station from UNT. I have to admit that this election cycle is really exciting. I love election season, it’s like the Olympics; the results are equally symbolic, and slightly more relevant. The best part was calling my old racist grandmother and telling her I voted for a black president. The most disappointing part was that, rather than act like an old racist lady, my grandmother told me I should’ve voted for Hilary Clinton. But the second best part was telling my grandmother that if she tried to tell me how to vote, then I was going to Caucus. (It’s just a threat, I’m not going to Caucus; please don’t think me apathetic, I just think it’s kind of ridiculous.) And another cool thing about voting for Obama and telling my old racist grandma about it is that, I know she won’t read this or ever find it, because she doesn’t have the internet and made my sister write down instructions on “how to use google.”