Enjoy my Tabulas as much as my sister does.

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D:

Do it, beetches.
♥

After an awesome possum dinner at Professor Weinhausen's house, I didn't think the night could get any better.

 

And it didn't.

 

 

Because Jenny parks her car really close to the neighboring spot, and I get stuck with the spot with the dumb pole, I scratched the side of my car.

What a way to end my night.
I'm sad.
How am I supposed to study for two midterms when all I can feel is sad because of my car?

 

And seriously, why the heck can't Jenny take the inner spot because she has hecka more experience driving and parking than I do. Plus, I leave a lot more than she does. D:

Whoever says that sasquatches do not exist have not lived in my apartment, because I tell ya, they're living in the apartment right above mine. I deal with them stomping around. I deal with the fact that they shh'd me for talking too loudly--even though my window was open. I deal with hearing their conversations clearly through the ceiling. I deal with the fact that their bed is hella squeaky. I deal with everything, simply because I try to be nice and reasonable. 

 

But when they all of a sudden decide to stomp around, fall everywhere, bang on the walls/floor/whatever, shout their conversations, and play their bass/music super duper loudly at 2 am in the morning so the walls are vibrating to their horrible music when my roommate and I are clearly sleeping, then that just is annoying and makes me mad.

 

I'm done playing nice.

 

The girls in apartment 428 now have a complaint report filed under them at the office -- and if they piss me off again, I'll report them again until they get kicked out.

They better watch it, because Jennifer is angry.

  

And stop buying novelty socks.

 

I don't think I've really ever owned socks that didn't have bears, bunnies, chickens, polka-dots or some other weird design on it.

 

I know they're retarded socks, but plain socks just felt so dull. I don't know.

 

In any case, I think it's best I stop buying them for the sole reason that . . . well, when you lose one sock, you basically have mismatched socks and can't even pretend that another sock matches. (Green and purple just don't look the same, you know?!) Taking one more step towards maturity just comes along with the process.

And I'm alive.

 

My parents never trust me to drive. When my mother heard that I wanted to go home for the weekend, she emailed me a few days before asking me to seriously reconsider going home.

Thanks for loving me, mom.

The night before, my dad offered to come down to pick me up.

 

I don't get it. Why doesn't anyone believe that I can actually do it? I've driven to school many times and back once, but every time, I had one of my parents sitting right next to me. Even Jenny was warning me about getting drowsy while driving. And no matter how much I reassured her that my singing in the car will keep me awake, she still insisted that I leave early in the day (which I didn't) :0. I think I'm just spiteful and am going against everyone's wishes.

But tonight, even though I was all by myself and running on little sleep because some "Withheld" number decided to call me at 6 in the morning (jerk i kick yo face if i could), I did not even feel the need to close my eyes.