Thirteen Blocks Is Just A Hop, Skip, & A Jump For Some Desperate College Students

One of my mom's friends is a photographer, and she does the makeup for his shoots. His name is Jeff, and he just sent me some pictures of a photo shoot he did with my mom. All I have to say is that she's looking good for 39. Real good.

This four-day weekend was a godsend. Everything is covered in snow and ice. Everything's white. Despite the inherent risks involved with snowstorm weather and slick roads, I've enjoyed this miniature break quite thoroughly. It might be a bit of a stretch, but I'm hoping they cancel classes tomorrow as well. It's been so long since I've been in class. I think I've forgotten how to sing.

My friend from Canada is having the best time making fun of Oklahoma snowstorms and what we consider "state of emergency" weather. I find it endearing that we plow snow on the highways with tractors.

I was thinking about what song I'd like to have sung at my funeral, and I'm still undecided. I think the apocalypse is going to occur within my lifetime, so I guess it's not that big of a deal if I don't have my funeral all planned out. Nonetheless, I want something straight-tone at my funeral. Like the Vienna Boys Choir. Or Enya.

Waterfalls In January

I'm sick of thinking. Some days I just want to sit and think about nothing. That would never happen, though, because there are always millions of thoughts running through my head at any given moment. But the thoughts just don't make sense. They're half-thoughts, and there's no use trying to communicate them to anyone. I'm not an active thinker by nature, which I think most other people are, or at least the people I'm usually around seem to be. I think about pointless things and in effect miss the big picture, which is why it's easy for me to lose focus all the time. I also hate typing about any of this knowing that someone will eventually read it because I know that no one wants to hear about my issues.

That said, I refuse to ramble on about them.

I think I'm going to have to drop my composition class and replace it with a three-hour-long "Intro. To Sociology" class that meets on Tuesday evenings, which makes me want to shoot myself. The fact that the new class meets once a week for three hours and deals with topics I couldn't care less about doesn't bother me as much as the idea of leaving my Comp. II class. I love that class. The professor is a short, clever woman with black-rimmed glasses and a voice that's almost as unforgettable as her hair, the brightest strawberry blonde I've ever seen. She makes me laugh and she makes me think, both qualities I find to be extremely endearing.

I think God is trying to wipe Oklahoma City University off the map. Last night, a torrential downpour, complete with lightning and hail, soaked the entire campus. There's a parking lot behind the music school that's especially tricky to traverse during a rainstorm because of how dark and shiny the asphalt gets when it gets covered with water. It makes it difficult to tell where the water is deep and where it's shallow, which is how I soaked my Chuck Taylors last night before leaving for church choir. Interestingly enough, I didn't see a single earthworm on any sidewalk last night.

2010

I envy the people who work at this Chinese restaurant in my home town. I'm sure it's one family that owns the restaurant itself, and all the family members work there. They are some of the most hard working people I've ever encountered. Maybe not so much hard working as focused. They do their jobs extremely well and they always seem content with where they are at the time. I wonder if any of them ever dream beyond the scope of that restaurant, or if their lives are limited to it. Whether or not they're bound to upholding the family tradition doesn't seem to phase them as they pour your drink for you every six minutes and smile the fakest smile you've ever seen. I'd like to think that they're all happy doing what they do. And maybe they are. Who am I to judge?

Last night I brought in the new year with wine and pizza and Jay-Z's freaky new world premiere video, as well as a strange twist of fate. A kid from my old high school came over. He graduated the year before me in my sister's class, and I hadn't seen him since then, but apparently he works here in Kansas City at the BKE that my cousin used to manage. It's such a small world we live in. After the ball dropped, I spent the rest of the night watching Paranormal Activity by myself, which makes me feel like a hypocrite, because just the other day my friend did the exact same thing and I made fun of him for it. I didn't even finish the movie, not because it wasn't interesting but because I was tired.

It's sad that my only goals at this point for the new year are to get a new battery for my car and to graduate my freshman year of college. I should be more focused on what I want to accomplish, but I know that when I figure out what I want to do, I'll do it. I'm going to turn nineteen in April, and I'm thinking that's when I want to get my tattoo. On my birthday, I mean. Wait... I just realized that I have another goal: get a tattoo. This year is looking brighter already! Just for fun, though, I'd like to make a ridiculous New Year's resolution that I know I won't keep--I resolve to pursue a modeling career in Italy and end up on the E! True Hollywood Story.