my ethics class

"The stubbornness of youth and age are locked in eternal struggle.

For unremitting zeal will never triumph over emboldened senility,

And embittered experience will never demur intrepid idealism.

Only time can end the struggle,

For she will kill the one and make the other grow old."

-W. A. McMurray on "that old lady who never listens"

bye. bye. bye. bye... bye.

Semi-private social settings are the best! especially if no one is really more than a friendly acquaintance.

Conversations are guarded as everyone cautiously probes with quaint jokes and cute experiences, all the while meticulously precognating every syllable that sallies forth from the quasi-joviality of their persona.  It's a process of boundary testing, small, subtle tests and intense data crunching until one feels comfortable enough to relax a bit.

Of course, like any suspense thriller, the end is the best part.

Everyone understands that it's over, but for some reason leaving is an excruciating process.  The host doesn't want to look like they're kicking their guests out.  The guests don't want to seem like they're in a hurry to leave.  That would be rude.  So in the name of propriety, there everyone stands, with sheepish grins on their faces as everyone inches, creeping toward the door hoping that no one will notice what is happening.

"Well..."  "Yeah."  "Well..."  "Seeya I guess."  "Seeya."

meta-blogging (inverse free form haiku)

I don't really understand blogging.

I'll do it anyways.

That's what America is all about.

On crying.

Whenever I feel like crying, I just imagine a little Gandalf standing in front of my tear ducts yelling,

"YOU SHALL NOT PASS!"

This picture needs to be shown in it's entirety.


It is awesome. Unfortunately every time I upload it, it's either GINORMOUS or tiny. Oh joyous interweb! Is there any simple task that you can't make a million times harder!

Either way. Thanks Arianne.



...I just realized you can see the full size one by clicking on the image. All is forgiven, internet, all is forgiven.

On thank you cards.

I hate writing thank you cards to people I don't know. I never know what to say.

'Thank You. I really liked your money.'

Breakfast Conversations

Me: Aren't cold sores a type of herpes?
Dad: Yes.
Mom: That's why I always have shame.
Dad: ...huh?
Me: ...I don't think--
Mom: It's sexual disease!