I've been waiting years for this!

Spice Girls are reuniting for a world tour!

My dream come true.

Rats, cooking, and France are apparently not for me

I keep hearing really good reviews for Ratatouille. I've generally liked the Pixar movies and such, and I love The Incredibles, and the guy who directed that also directed this one. But I have absolutely no desire whatsoever to see this movie. I mean, I don't think it looks bad or anything, but...a rat who likes to cook? I don't know. The other Pixar movies have had storylines that made me want to see them (I think...I might have been ambivalent about some of them, now that I think about it), but I don't know. I'm sure I'll see this one eventually. But probably not for awhile. I'm ok with that.

I sometimes wish, very strongly, that I didn't live at home anymore. I mean, my family's (usually) pretty great, but...I just don't want to be here anymore. I never really got it when my friends talked about how much they hated going home on breaks and such. Particularly summer break. And while I don't exactly hate it, it sure would be nice not to live at home. (I know, I know, I'm a naive 21 year old, what the heck do I know, I'll be eating my words in a few years, whatever.) I can't live here forever, though, and I'll be glad when I get out of here and get on with my own life.

I can't help but be a grammar snob

Lately, I've been getting so irked reading blogs, message boards, comments, etc, and seeing just deplorable grammar, spelling, split infinitives, sentences that end with prepositions (which, granted, sometimes is hard or impossible to avoid. It just sounds weird to say "Let out him" instead of "Let him out"). Even in articles I read, I often find myself pausing over a sentence here and there, rewording it so that it sounds better in my head before I can move on to the next sentence. Now, I know that sometimes people make typos (heck, I do it all the time), or just accidentally type something that they might not have necessarily meant to type (I often realize that I wrote "of" instead of "off" or I'll write it's when I most certainly do not mean "it is," or, on occasion, I'll realize with horror that I made one of the they're/there/their or your/you're mistakes. But sometimes, it seems like people actually do not realize that typing "your" is not correct for meaning "you are." Because they do it over and over. Or I notice people going all apostrophe-happy. Adding them when it's really just a pluralized word that absolutely does not need an apostrophe. (How's this for funny? When typing need just now, I type nead. Which, I'm pretty sure, isn't a word. At least, not one I've ever used.)

Seriously, though, I don't know how anyone's going to know grammar or spelling at all in 25 years, if even that, if this horrible Internet-speak stuff continues. That's what I think contributes to it, somewhat, because people just don't care on the Internet, and then it spills out to real life so that they don't know what's right and what's wrong. Part of the reason why, with few exceptions, I keep my "Internet-speak" down to just not capitalizing. And that's usually just on instant messenger. I think being able to communicate effectively (and not to effectively communicate) is very important, and I think that having a good sense of grammar and spelling are integral aspects of that. They're just not emphasized anymore, it seems. I've probably learned more grammar from taking Latin, and maybe Spanish and French too, than I ever did in any English class. And I've just always been good at spelling. Probably thanks to my love of reading from a very young age. It's just ridiculous, sometimes, the things people can't spell. And man do those unnecessary and incorrect apostrophe's get to me. (Haha. Annoying, no? Yeah, probably not, because most people aren't grammar nazis like me.) And the their/there/they're and such. Seriously. It's not hard to figure out which is correct.

(I hope I don't have any glaring, obvious mistakes in this post. Wouldn't that be sad. And sorry to be complaining yet again about people who shouldn't be allowed to write anything ever. But I haven't complained about this kind of thing in awhile! And it's just so irritating. Ruins the whole reading experience for me. Makes it flow horribly. So...leave me alone.)

Catching up...nevermind.

I've resisted the temptation to blog the last 24 hours because I just want to keep that last post at the top of the page! But that just can't last forever. So, back to my boring old selfish stuff. Sorry, everyone.

Firstly, James. (Or, Baby Jimmy as Jason calls him.) Oh man. What a cutie. It's really amazing, too, because everyone was fully expecting him to have to spend at least a few days probably in the NICU (given that they wanted to deliver him now, four weeks early, because of his enlarged liver -- which, according to the doctor who saw him yesterday, is "generous" but not really a problem, it seems -- as well as the fact that it was just a crazy pregnancy. To say the least). Well, he was upstairs in the nursery on the maternity ward about four hours after he was delivered, after having some tests run and such. So that was just awesome, and everyone's so happy and relieved. Especially Cathy, obviously. And apparently he's nursing like a champion which is great. Jason wasn't so good right away, but he did get the hang of it. It's just one less thing for Cathy to worry about with James, thankfully. Anyway. I went over there three times today (hey, I got nothing better to do, since, you know, no one wants to hire me and all. I'm kinda happy about that right now, truth be told, for a little while anyway). I went in the morning with Mom and stayed an hour or two or something, I don't really know, then went back in the afternoon by myself and got to hold him for quite awhile (which is obviously so much fun. There's nothing like holding a sleeping newborn baby, watching all the faces they make and such. Man). And I went back after dinner with Mom and Dad. So yeah. He's great. And has lots of dark hair. Well, lots is probably a relative term, I'm sure there have been lots of babies born with lots more hair than James has now, but compared to our baldy Jason (who is still, after two and a half years, trying to grow enough hair to need a hair cut. It'll be awhile), he's got a lot. And it's dark too. Jason's hair (what he has anyway, haha) is fairly light. Light brown anyway. But yeah. So anyway. Things are really good on that front. Much better than expected. And Cathy's doing ok, considering. She's obviously still in pain; she did have surgery yesterday, after all. But I think she's a lot better now even with the pain, having the pregnancy over and having James here and doing really really well.

He's so cute. I'll post some more pictures here soon (although most people probably won't be too interested in them. I think they're adorable though. And I have some with his hat off, which it wasn't with the pictures I took yesterday during the little time we saw him). You all should be jealous that you're not related to such a cute baby. Unless you are. Hehe. Anyway. Plus there's Jason, who's quite adorable too (and man he seems so big now! And James seems so tiny! Even though Jason was only three weeks early, and was about 5 ounces smaller when he was born. Crazy how they grow so fast). He (Jason) seems to know that Baby Jimmy's his brother and all that fun stuff, but he's still getting used to the idea. It'll be interesting to see that adjustment. Anyway though.

Oh, I was going to post more, but I just don't want to right now. oh well. Guess it can wait.

Introducing...

James Daniel Smith!

Born June 28, 2007 at 6:32 pm.
7 lbs, 11 oz (4 weeks early!)
19 3/4"

Plenty more pictures to come, I'm sure.

Just a few more hours

or less, I guess, until I meet my new nephew! I think the C-section is scheduled for around 3:45 or something. But I'm not sure how all this will work once he's out, so I don't really know when I'll officially get to see him. But hopefully, it'll be soon!

Delving in

So, I'm not usually much to discuss politics too much (controversial issues, sure, sometimes, but politics? Eh). I used to be into politics, back in the summer and fall of 2004 (election time, anyone?), but then it just got to be too much for me. There's lots of nastiness in politics, and many politicians just seem so...insincere, that I don't really want to pay attention to any of them. But, I have to pay attention every time an election rolls around, because it is my country too. And as you may or may not know, there's a rather big-time election coming up in a year and a half. Given the likelihood of who might be the two major contenders come election time, I'm kind of concerned about where we'll be two years from now. I'm really really kind of worried that Rudy Giuliani is going to end up being the Republican nominee. I don't think that I would be able to vote for him, in good conscience. And I'm quite certain I wouldn't be able to vote for whoever the Democratic nominee is. Especially if it's Clinton. Eesh. I just hope I don't have to choose between one of those two and "throwing my vote away." Let's hope that whoever does end up the Republican nominee isn't a pro-gay marriage, pro-choice barely Republican almost wanna be Democrat.

Don't recollect if I've ever mentioned Old Reliable before...

(10,378 cool points if you can name where that quote came from. Without the help of Google. Or a similar search engine. Or even a dissimilar one. Hint: It comes from a childhood favorite of mine. Oh, that narrows it too much. Oh well.)

Now what was I going to talk about? Oh yeah. I don't think I've ever mentioned. I love Conan O'Brien. Oh man. And when Will Ferrell or Jim Carrey are on? Forget about it. Dude, that man is hilarious. And he has the best hair. Haha. It's awesome. Love it. The whole thing. Great stuff.

Time for bigger and better

I haven't written about this at all yet (perhaps because I don't want to let myself get too excited about it yet), but last Friday, Dad bought a new car. It's a 2004 Jeep Grand Cherokee Laredo, in black. He sold our old trusty conversion van that we've had for...well, a really long time, and which we put something like 160,000 miles on. (Actually, he just sold it today, but that was going to be an end result of getting a new car, kind of.) That van took us to New England (and New Jersey and such) and back, several times, as well as a trip out to California one summer. But it's been showing its age lately, and it was time for it to go. The other objective for this new car is that I'll be taking it back to school with me come August. (And Dad will be using my car, my nice also trusty 94 Oldsmobile.) My Olds, while still in pretty good condition, is not exactly quite trusty enough for a cross-country trip. So the plan for this summer was to find a nice, fairly new SUV-type car, with enough room in which to pack all my stuff and that wouldn't break down (at least, hopefully) in the middle of Nowhere, Iowa. Wow I'm making this post longer than expected. Eh, might as well go with it.

So last Friday, I took Jason (who I was watching for a few hours while Cathy went to an appointment) and met Dad at a Kmart parking lot (classy, right?) near the highway, where there was a temporary used car tent sale thing going on. I don't think he was planning on getting something that day, but lo and behold, two hours later, he's negotiating with the people. I, who have no taste for bartering, had left by this point, with Jason who was starting to get antsy. And Dad came back awhile later with this Jeep, which both of us had test drove, and which I liked, but I wasn't really picky about this. It is my dad's car, after all, much as I might wish differently, and he is the one paying for it. Obviously I had to have some say, as I will be driving it around for a year. But anyway. I was trying to stay aloof about the whole thing, even after it came home to rest in front of our house. I don't want to get too attached, you see, because it's not mine. And I don't deserve it. (I feel quite bad that I'm taking it to school, even though that's what it's for and why we got what we got, because Dad deserves, after all these years, to drive a nice car. A few years back we got a fairly new Honda, but it's Mom's car, primarily, and Dad's been driving the van for years. So I feel bad taking this from him now. Even though I don't think he sees it like that. But anyway.) However, obviously I wasn't going to keep myself from driving it. So I've driven it a few times. Including to school and back yesterday. And man, do I enjoy that car.

Don't get me wrong, my car has treated me well the last four years. We work so well together, and it responds so well to me. We know each other, and we're used to each other. But I know we won't be together forever. And I can't help but compare my somewhat worn car to this new shiny black Jeep. For example. Both have CD players, of course. My car, however, has one of the most sensitive CD players known to man. I go over a little bump in the road, and my CD skips, or pauses for a few seconds. And in a city with lots of little bumps (and even more big ones), this makes for a not very smooth listening experience. The Jeep? Doesn't seem to have that problem. Know what else the Jeep has? Working reverse lights. Mine haven't been working for quite some time now. Not a big thing, but a thing. Recently, the passenger side door has decided not to open from the inside. It requires me (the driver) to lean over, pull the handle from the inside, while the passenger pulls it open from the outside. It's a two-person process now. A cute little quirk. And it's always weird for me to drive a car in which the blinkers actually make noise. Mine never have. At least, not since we got it. And actually, that's probably more of a good thing than an annoyance, because sometimes blinker noise can get annoying if you're stuck at a light for an hour. Or, you know, like two minutes. Haha. Anyway. So my car's got its old-car quirks. But I do still love driving it. It's served me well, and we've had some good times together. Not to mention the fact that the inside is slightly less than immaculate, so I don't really have to worry about getting it dirty. (I hate to dirty things that are clean. If they're dirty already, no worries.) But this Jeep. It's wiggling its way into my heart, one unnoticed bump at a time. And you know what else? It has a clicker! As in, a plunger with which I can lock and unlock the car when I'm some distance away from it. When I first got my license, I primarily drove a red Buick, with leather seats (or maybe fake leather?), buttons on the steering wheel with which I could control the radio (a feature which I still greatly miss...sigh), and a plunger for locking and unlocking. (And I think opening the trunk, too.) It was a nice thing to have, when my arms would be full of books and backpacks and other miscellaneous items. So it's nice to have that again. Although, I've gotten quite used to locking the door immediately upon opening it, practically, or just before closing it, in my car. But that reminds me of something else. I wonder if the Jeep will shock me every time I close the door like my car does? I've become so programmed to getting shocked that I always pause a second (without really realizing it) before shutting the door. When I get out, I mean. Kinda makes me laugh. Anyway. Didn't notice it the few times I've driven the jeep, but I don't usually notice it with my car anymore either. Anyway.

And there's one more thing. I've never been one to name my inanimate objects. I know some people name their cars, their computers, maybe their houses. I prefer to keep the names to things like pets. And, I guess, stuffed animals. Although I think I only used to give the really special ones names. (And, incidentally, I always felt bad when I would spend more time with one stuffed animal than another. Except for my few absolute favorites that I didn't sleep with out. They were practically all real to me, and I didn't want any to feel left out. And now? Most are stuck in plastic bins, stacked in my closet. Hm.) Anyway. I was driving the Jeep yesterday, and the thought occurred to me that I should name it. I have no idea why I would name it. (Remember? It's not mine.) And then the name Knute came to mind. (As in Knute Rockne. Not as in a Knut, a unit of money that's smaller than a Galleon.) And for some reason, in my mind, it fits. Haha. Ah, I'm such a loser. Oh well.

I can't believe I just wrote that much about cars. What is wrong with me? Boy, that's probably a question I don't really want people to think about too much. We'd be here all night, we would.

It's hard to make Susie do schoolwork in the summer

A week or two ago, lots of the blogs I visit (some randomly, some daily) were passing around this "8 Random Facts" meme. Because I'm bored tonight, and don't want to finish the reading I have to do for class tomorrow, I'm going to pretend someone tagged me. As usual. Haha. (Too bad I have no friends who blog. Well, one. No one else I know personally does though. They're just so not cool.)

1. I hate using the phone. Despise it. Don't ask me why. If I have to make a phone call, I always try to wait until there's no one else around, or I'll go sit on the porch or in my room or something. I don't know why I feel more comfortable talking on the phone when no one's around, but I do. (This usually isn't the case if it's like my sister or some other immediate family member that I'm talking to.)

2. I never learned how to dive. I may have tried a few times, but then eventually I reached a point where I felt weird being that age and not knowing how to dive, so I didn't want to practice in front of everyone and reveal that I couldn't.

3. I really don't like drinking anything that doesn't have ice in it. Well, unless it's like hot coffee or hot chocolate or hot tea. Things like water, soda, even juice sometimes, they just always taste so much better with ice. Especially water. I hate drinking water without ice in it. Which usually results in me not drinking enough water, especially at school. I just so much don't like my drinks to be room temperature. I mean, if I'm desperate, that's one thing. But regularly? Ice it up, baby.

4. I used to have a Lady and the Tramp poster in my room. I might still (I'm pretty sure it's on the wall somewhere), but it used to be right next to my bed, way back when I used to share the room with my sister and had to sleep on the top bunk. Anyway, on the bottom it has the Disney logo, and of course says Disney and whatnot in that signature Disney way. Which means it has that crazy D. And it wasn't until I was...well, quite old I think (in my teens somewhere), did I realize that the crazy D was, in fact, a D. And I still laugh every time I see it, because I remember how shocked I was when I realized that. I'm pretty sure I used to think it was just some sort of symbol, or maybe like...a D in some other alphabet, or...I have no idea. But obviously it wasn't logical.

5. I like things to remain as much as possible like they were when I first got them. So, when I have a pair of earrings, I dislike throwing away the cardboard piece that they're attached to, because that way I can make sure that each earring always goes in the same ear. Which means I waste a lot of space, because you can only fit so many of those cardboard backs into a jewelry box. But me being the somewhat obsessive-compulsive that I am, I hate mixing up the earrings and not knowing which one usually goes in which ear. Sometimes it just happens, and then I get over it and no longer care about putting it back on the cardboard piece, but I try to keep it from happening whenever possible.

6. I often claim, when asked, that I really have no specific memory that sticks out as the "most embarrassing." But, then the other day I was thinking about it for some reason, and a memory popped into my head. I don't know if it's truly the most embarrassing thing ever to happen to me, but it was pretty embarrassing at the time. I was in 6th grade, and my class (it was either English or Social Studies I think) was in the library, I guess doing research maybe? Anyway, I was trying to get my teacher's attention to ask him something, and for some reason, I called him Daddy. I didn't even realize it until one of my friends started laughing at me. Anyway. I got over it, but it was pretty embarrassing.

7. Sometimes I dislike summer because, for some reason, summer evokes the most feelings of deja vu of any season. Little whiffs of summer air, or the rustling of a tree or something, and I'm reminded of summers past (although sometimes I'm not sure if it's real memories that come to the surface, or just...something else). I hate deja vu, so when that happens, I don't really like it. (I think I hate deja vu because sometimes I hate those nostalgic feelings of times that are gone forever, that I can never get back, and that I sometimes wish I could get back.)

8. For some reason, despite being a germophobe, it really doesn't bother me not to wash my sheets very often. I guess I figure, I take showers in the morning, so what do I care if my sheets are dirty? I like the feeling of nice, clean sheets as much as the next person, but sometimes it seems like such an unnecessary waste of energy to wash sheets. And boy is it a pain to remake the bed with the clean sheets. If this fact makes you want to stay away from me, I completely understand. Maybe this year at school, when I don't have to deal with attempting to put sheets on a top bunk in addition to the effort it takes when a bed is firmly on the ground, I'll be more gung-ho about sheet-washing. (And perhaps in the future, I should place my bed in such a way as it is not against a wall except at the head. That'd sure make the whole process easier.)



There you have it. Now you all know me so much better. Haha.

This time, my brother's got it right

Awhile ago, Tom showed me this website. And I must admit, it's made me chuckle on more than one occasion. Including today. I guess the permanent link (should someone come across this after there's a new one) is here. Anyhoo. Just thought I'd share. Because aren't we taught that sharing is nice? (For the record, the thing that really made me laugh was the horrible pun this particular comic contained. I'm a big big fan of puns.)

Overexposure?

A few minutes ago, I saw something that said the word "gallons" on it. For a split second, I thought it said "galleons." If you don't know what that is, then, well, you're just not cool enough for me to explain it, and that's all there is to it. All I know is, I'm ok with seeing the word galleons random places. Man I wish I lived in that world. Haha. Twould be so sweet. Especially the Apparating part. Ohhhhh yeah.

The loveliness of post-its

I've decided that I need to start carrying around a pen and a pad of paper everywhere I go. Including places like the kitchen, the bathroom, my bedroom, etc. Because it's when I'm in a place where I don't have access to paper or pen that I think of something I don't want to forget. And then I forget it because I have no paper or no writing utensil. And this is simply quite irritating. So. That's what I want to do. I don't know that I will, but I should. I mean, when I'm in my bedroom, I have post it notes on my nightstand which I utilize quite often. Maybe almost every day, even. Because right when I'm about to fall asleep, I think of something that I want to remember. And I won't be able to go to sleep until I know that I'll have a chance of remembering it in the morning. Hence, the post-its. I love them. Love love love. I currently have about three on the bookmark that's being used in the book I'm reading right now (Harry Potter 5). Anyway. For a forgetful person as myself, post-its are one of the best things ever invented.

What the Dell?

I need to call Dell. I've written about it before, but my computer is continuing to piss me off with its lack of registering when the power cord is plugged into it. I had been planning on calling them today because it's getting on my nerves. And then I was watching Jason and I didn't feel like calling, etc. Now he's gone, and for the second time today, the power cord is not registering at all. Often it registers like it's loose, so I have to find some position for it in which it stays registered on the computer (lately I've taken to hooking the cord around a corner of the screen, because it seems that when the cord is being pulled up a little, it registers well). But right now, and earlier today, it's doing the thing where it just doesn't register at all. So I have to wait for the battery to run down and then for the computer to go into hibernation, and then I can plug it back in and it'll work fine. Well, as fine as it does. Twice within a few hours, though, is just ridiculous for this. I've talked to Dell about this problem before (over Christmas break, I believe), and they ended up sending me a new power cord to see if that was the problem. Shortly thereafter I left for school, and didn't have a problem with it at all the whole semester. At all. But since I've been home, problems all over the place. So I have to call them. Here's the thing: I hate, with a fiery burning passion, calling Dell. Every time I call them, I'm on hold for like an hour before I talk to someone, and then they're just idiotic when I finally do talk to someone. Results in me wasting a few hours of time and being very annoyed. I mean, I guess usually they fix the problem (or, send someone out here to fix the problem), but ugh. I really wish there were somewhere here that I could go and talk to someone in person, show them the problem, etc. But I guess there's nowhere here where I can go and have them fix it and still have it covered by the Dell warranty my computer is under. So I'll have to call them. I hate calling people normally. I really hate calling people when I know I'm going to end up being on hold for an hour before talking to someone. I hate being on hold. With their stupid music and breaking in every once in awhile to give me some automated message about one thing or another. Bleh. But it's either deal with that, or deal with this stupid power cord problem. I don't even know how they can fix this thing though, is what I'm worried about. Because it's not the power cord, it's where the power cord attaches. Sigh. Oh well. C'est la vie.

Interesting.

This rating was determined based on the presence of the following words:
-death (2x)
-hurt (1x)


I wonder how they figure this stuff out, because I know I've had some words in here that I've seen listed on some of these I've seen at other blogs. Odd.

Unpossible

I was lying in bed last night, attempting (rather unsuccessfully, for awhile) to shut off my brain so I could get to sleep. And at some point during this process, I was thinking about school, and about housing and such, and wondering what friends of mine in other dorms became RAs, things like that. And then this led to the realization (because only seniors can be RAs at Notre Dame) that I'm going to be a senior. In college. A senior, people. Where the heck did the last three years go? How can my time as an undergrad at the great, awesome, wonderful University of Notre Dame be nearing its close? I'm not supposed to be a senior yet. I just barely started college! This isn't right.

I'm scared about how fast I know this year is going to fly by. I'm not ready to be done yet.

I'm trying to up my post count

I'm quite near 700 posts. There's (probably, barring any surprises) going to be a rather momentous occasion happening in my family later this week, and because I like things to be orderly, number-wise, or something like that, I think I would like my 700th post to be about something quite exciting. So. Whereas I might just cram lots of things into one post normally, I'm trying to spread it out today and tomorrow and stuff. It's easy enough since my posts often tend to be random jumbles of various thoughts that pop into my head over the course of a day or a few hours or something. Less labels per post this way. Haha. (Hey, you like the new template of my blog? I don't really look at my own blog that often, but today I decided it's been the same long enough, so I changed it. I voluntarily changed something! Amazing!)

Anyway. The main point for this post is nothing exciting. I got the stuff in the mail yesterday for the JPII Institute. And, as expected, having it all together in one places is just awesome. Most of the interesting stuff is in their little academic catalog, including the course offerings, what the two years spent getting the MTS (Master of Theological Studies) looks like, course-wise, things about student life, etc. And the admission is done on a rolling basis, so there's no specific date it has to be turned in. Anyway. It's just making me more excited about this possibility. I can't believe I'm considering this so much. I mean, I'm not the type to live in Washington, DC. Heck, I didn't even want to leave Colorado for college, and I never figured I would stay away from Colorado after graduation. But...man. I don't know. If it's right, then it'll work out and all. No point worrying about it either way like I tend to do about things. But back to the fun stuff. One of the things mentioned in the academic catalog is liturgical life or something like that, and of course it mentions the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception. Which is like a block or two from the Catholic University of America, or at least the area of it where the JPII Institute is. AND, in the listing for Sunday and Holy Day of Obligation Masses, it specifically says that one of them is a solemn Mass. Solemn Mass=happy Susie. So that's most definitely an exciting prospect. Mmm hm. And it lists two places that has housing for female students, both fairly close I guess. That's one thing that's kinda troublesome to consider, living in DC. (I don't know, I just get kind of a...don't walk around alone at night type of vibe from DC.) Those two places are probably fairly hard to get, I would think, and if I didn't I would most definitely want to try to get a roommate. I think I'd be a little freaked out living by myself in DC. Anyway though. Another interesting thing that they mention is a dress code. And it lists "inappropriate dress," which for women (there's also stuff for men but as I am not one I don't really care about that list) includes things like casual sandals including flip flops, T-shirts, jeans, athletic wear, shorts, tank tops, etc. Definitely a bit out of my realm of experience (well, flip flops weren't technically allowed in high school, I think, but I didn't even own a pair of flip flops until I got to college), but it's kinda cool too. Although the no jean thing would be an adjustment, somewhat. Anyway. Ok sorry, I'm just a little excited about this whole prospect, even though I don't know how likely it is or anything.

Did you know the GRE costs $130? Ridunkulous. Oh well. I guess I'm going to start trying to study and whatnot for it. I should probably take it sooner than later. The sooner I figure out what the heck I'm going to be doing next year, the better. I hate that I have no score for which to aim, no "average score of accepted students" to go by like I did in high school. Guess I'll just have to aim for the highest possible one. I don't even know what that is though. Haha. Oh man. I can't believe I'm even thinking about this whole thing as seriously as I am. What would I even do with a masters, anyway? Go for the P.D? Haha. Everyone could call me Dr Susie. That'd be sweeeet. Except that's WAAAY more schooling than I want to take. Plus, if I were going to continue at JPII, I'd have to know (reading proficiency at least) scholastic Latin, New Testament Greek, and two modern languages. Which could be French and Spanish, as I do at least have background in both of those. Eh anyway. That's never gonna happen. That whole dissertation thing alone is enough to scare me away.

Ok anyway. I'm just kind of excited about this. And lucky for me, I have two parents who think it'd be pretty cool if I do this (particularly my mom, because she wants to live vicariously through me. Haha), so they'll keep pushing me on it. Often, when I get an idea in my head of something I want to and am excited about, I just don't do anything about it and then the opportunity passes me by. Like a few years ago when I was really excited about thinking about studying abroad in Italy. Obviously that didn't happen. But with this, I'm going to do my best to see it through, and if it doesn't work out, it doesn't work out. (And my sister will be happier. She's a little mad I'm considering being gone two more years. But mad in like a "aw you're not supposed to be gone" kind of way.) Anyway. Ok I'm done with this topic for tonight.

Hi-larious

Two websites that always, without fail, tickle my funny bone, and which I all too frequently forget exist. Stuff on my Cat and Stuff on my Mutt. So simple, so wonderful.

Yes!!!

I'm watching the Simpsons right now. They play it on UPN at 10pm on weeknights. Anyway. It's an episode where there's a blackout because people use too much energy. So then people start looting. And at one point they loot a music store. A bunch of people go in, and then they walk out like a marching band playing, you guessed it, the Notre Dame Victory March! I had seen this one a few years ago, so I knew it was coming. Man. Awesome. Just proves that Notre Dame pretty much rocks. And has the best fight song. And that's all there is to it.

Dun dun DUN!!!

It was...THE CHIPMUNK!

I hate it when that happens

So, yesterday at some point (I think it was yesterday, at least), some quote or something popped into my head. It must have been relevant to something, and I wanted to look it up to see where it came from. I forget why, or what it referenced, or any of that. I think I thought of it while I was brushing my teeth, so I couldn't just go hop on my computer and look it up right away. I was going to write it down somewhere so I'd remember next time I was at a computer. Alas, my memory got the better of me and as usual when I think of something I want to check, I almost immediately got distracted in my head, and must have promptly forgot whatever it was. And I just remembered a little while ago that there was a quote I wanted to look up, but now I can't for the life of me think of it. And I'm sure it's not important really, at all, but I want to remember. I hate it when I forget things and then remember that there was something I forgot but can't remember exactly what it was. Sigh. I swear, by the time I'm 30, I will have no memory of anything, ever. I'll be like Dory in Finding Nemo. But then maybe I'll run into a fish who's looking for the boat that took his son and then go on an adventure with him and then I'll start remembering things again.

It was a dark and stormy night...

So, a little while ago, or a couple hours, whatever, there was a nice storm going on here. The clouds had been moving in for awhile, and finally there was some lightning starting up north a little after dusk. It was really cool to watch, because it was one of those almost constant lightning but mostly up in the clouds thing. I love those. Eventually it moved over us, and we got a nice few minutes of some heavy rain and even a little bit of hail. Quite lovely. And some good lightning too. Man I love storms. Especially storms at night. They're kinda rare it seems, especially here where we mostly get our storms in the afternoon. But they rock. I used to be absolutely and completely terrified of them. Including and especially those ones up in the clouds that really usually barely even create thunder. What a loser. Haha. But yeah, I love them now. Lightning at night is so awesome to watch. It really really is. Ahhh.

Too lazy to make two posts

I just read something that said a study found that only 26% of (American, I think) Catholics go to confession at least yearly. I can't believe only a quarter of the American Catholic population goes to confession at least once a year. That's kind of ridiculous. I go around every three months, have for the past maybe 5 years, maybe it's been that more just since I've gone to college. Either way, I know I could definitely go a lot more frequently than that. I can't imagine going less than once a year.

Completely unrelated, but sometimes watching movies with subtitles on is rather funny. For example, watching the third, sorry sixth, Star Wars, whenever R2D2 talks, the subtitles say "[Whistle Beep Beep]". And when Jabba was strangled to death, it said "[Death rattle]". Just kinda funny. Oh, there's also [Bleep Bloop] for R2. And something weird for when Chewbacca talks. Makes me laugh.

Itching

No, the bugs haven't gotten to me quite that much. (That is yet another lovely thing about living in Colorado -- while I might complain about bugs sometimes, it's really nothing compared to most other places. And that makes me quite happy, because man, those mosquitoes love me for some reason. It's because I'm so sweet, of course. Ha.) I just feel like writing. Problem is, I have absolutely nothing interesting (or even non-interesting) to write about. So I guess I'll just have to do another stream of consciousness-type post. Let's see.

Ok first of all, I realized this the other day. When I think about the time period when NSYNC and Backstreet Boys and those types were really popular, for some reason in my head that takes place around 1993. Or so. And then I realize that it was more like 98, 99ish. And it's so bizarre to me that we're closer to 2010 than 2000 now, because I still base a lot of dates and such off of them being close to or far from 2000. Ok that didn't make sense. What I mean is, when I hear a date, I think of it in terms of how it relates to the year 2000 on a time line, because for some reason that's still my central time point or something. So it's weird to me when I realize that 2000 was almost ten years ago. Crazy weird. Hm. Anyway.

Last night I remembered this ring I used to wear. Until last October or so. I had gotten it in Estes Park some years back, and I quite enjoyed it. It was a little sterling silver heart on the top, with two smaller gold (looking) ones on either side of the bigger one. Not that the big one was very big at all. Anyway. I had been wearing it on my right ring finger for awhile, and one Saturday last October (a football Saturday, getting ready to watch the game) I had taken off it and the other ring I always wear, on my left ring finger, my chastity ring, I think probably because I had just washed my hands or something. (I can't stand to have my rings on my hands if either/both are wet. Just bothers me to no end for some reason. So I take them off for a few minutes, sometimes longer, so the rings can dry off.) Anyway. We have one of those three seat couches where the two end sides are recliners and the middle seat back can be folded down and it has two cup holders and a wooden area to put stuff. This is the way we normally have the couch, with the back folded down. And I had put my rings there that afternoon when I removed them. Some time later, I realized they were off and wanted to put them back on, but only the one I wear on my left hand was there. (Which is good, because it's actually real and cost some money, as opposed to the $15 or so I spent on the heart one.) But I was quite sad about the other one being missing. I looked on and under the couch as best I could manage, short of actually pulling out the couch to look under it more fully. But alas, the ring was not to be found. I eventually got over it, and just didn't wear a ring on that finger usually anymore. Now, of course, I wear my lovely beautiful wonderful ND class ring on that finger. I do still miss that heart one, though. If I ever found it, I could easily wear it on another finger (it was a little loose on the ring finger anyway). But I don't know that I'll ever find it, because I seriously have no idea where it could have gone. I have a feeling it's in this couch somewhere, but I don't have enough courage to go sticking my fingers in all the nooks and crannies of it (irrational fear that I'll inadvertently hit like, I don't know, a spider egg sac or something like that). Sigh. Eh, oh well.

So, I think I might be a "Highly Sensitive Person." I've heard the phrase before, but I figured it was like...highly emotional people. Apparently, though, it's people who are, among other things, very aware of changes in their surroundings which affect the senses in some way, who get very uncomfortable and tend to do worse when people are watching them for whatever reason, who don't like crowds, who don't like lots of noise, etc. Oh, and apparently, who feel a sense of comfort around lakes, rivers, streams, oceans, or fountains. I guess a lot of them are kind of general, but I think I could definitely have some tendencies in that direction. So anyway. Kind of interesting, to me anyway.

One of the things that makes me a tad nervous about applying for that grad school is the fact that I need three recommendations. Two from professors, one from someone else. I know who my "someone else" will be, I think, but I've never had much luck getting very close to professors I've had in college. It was easy to find teachers that could write good recommendations and who knew me well in high school (I was a teacher's pet suck-up in high school. Especially math teachers. Man I loved math. I sometimes wonder if I should have continued with it in college, but most of college math is more theoretical stuff. I always much preferred the things that I could solve, get a definitive answer to, equations to simplify, stuff like that. I hated doing theorems and whatever else those things were called. But every grade, I was awesome in math. 5th grade, middle school -- I even got a calculator as an award in 8th grade for the best female math student in the grade. I was awesome -- high school. Not so much 9th grade, I think, because I think 9th grade was geometry and I wasn't so much a geometry girl. More algebra and calculus. Anyway. Sorry to reminisce. Where was I? Oh yeah. It was easy finding teachers who knew me well and in whose classes I had performed excellently). Not so much college. First, there's so many people that it's hard for professors to get to know you inside of class. Especially someone like me, because I don't usually find that I have much to contribute. Second, whereas I could go to office hours and things like that, make an attempt to get to know my profs, I never have anything to ask them or to say to them. So I don't, and then I don't get to know my teachers. And I've definitely not been the student in college that I was in high school. It's just a different ballgame. Different experience. Different situation. So I'm going to have to try and work on that this semester, so I can get good recommendations for grad school.

Speaking of grad school, last night I was looking at other potentials in case maybe I decide to expand my horizons and look at other places. But the thing is, I don't want to go to grad school to go to grad school. Heck, I don't even really want to go to grad school. I want to do the program that's offered at the JPII Institute. Marriage and family and life issues. That's why I want to go. And as far as I can tell, I don't see a whole lot of other grad school programs that offer the same kind of thing. Aside from the one in Austria which I don't think I'd ever EVER even attempt. Firstly, I'm sure it's ridiculously competitive, and I just don't have the credentials. Secondly, it's in Austria. Which actually might be kinda cool, but I think just too much for me. So anyway. Guess it's this thing or nothing. I requested to have them send me stuff via snail mail because I just much prefer to have a hard copy in my hands. They said everything's online, but I don't know. I like it all gathered together. So I'm looking forward to getting that, although I don't really know why since I'm sure it'll tell me nothing new. (Aside from maybe the date the application is due, because I can't find that on the website.) Anyway.

So over the past few days, I watched the first three Harry Potter movies. I finally and fully realized just how inadequate they are compared to the books. Man. The books are just so so much better. Especially in the case of the third movie. They leave out and change a ridiculous amount. The first two (and fourth) do as well, but for some reason, at least with the first two, it didn't bother me as much. I haven't watched the fourth recently, so I'm not sure if I'd say it's better or worse an adaptation compared to the third. Either way, man are the books so much better. And now I'm kinda worried I'm going to end up very much disliking the fifth when I see it in a few weeks, because I'm sure it'll be tons different than the book, and I'm rather looking forward to it. I'm almost thinking that maybe I shouldn't reread the fifth beforehand, because then at least it won't be as fresh and I won't necessarily realize as many differences the first time around. But I probably will still read it. I mean, I do have to reread the fifth and sixth before the seventh book comes out, and there's only about a week between the movie's release and the book's, so timewise I should have the fifth read before the movie. And besides, I already started it yesterday. Oh well. I already know that I don't like the actress they got for Umbridge, and I'm not a big fan of how Tonks looks in the movie either. And man, I really wish that when Richard Harris had died (he played Dumbledore in the first two movies, and died shortly before the second came out), they had gotten someone better to replace him. Apparently his family really wanted the movie people to pick Peter O'Toole as his replacement. I could definitely see that. And Richard Attenborough apparently tried to get that part. He'd be pretty good in it too, I think. Although he is a bit short for Dumbledore. (He's the guy who was in Jurassic Park, the creator, and he also played Santa Claus in the newer version of Miracle on 34th Street.) I just am not a huge fan of Michael Gambon as Dumbledore. Oh well. At least when I read the books, even though I've seen the movies, I still kind of have my own versions of most of the characters that are at least slightly different than those in the movies. Some may be influenced by the movies, at least with the first four books, but yeah. Anyway. Oh, plus the books have a lot more stuff with the Weasley family, and especially the twins, and I kinda love them. The family and the twins. But yeah. Sorry for such a long Harry Potter-related paragraph. But hey, Harry Potter's kinda awesome, so deal with it.

If anyone reads this fairly soon, apparently Staples is hiring right now, so tomorrow I'm going to go down there and apply. I obviously have not had much luck with this so far, and thus am not expecting much, but at the same time the number of places that have been explicitly hiring (as opposed to being "always accepting applications") has been quite low this summer. It would be lovely if I could get a job, finally, even if it is just at Staples. Hey, I like office supplies. Well, like, paper and pens and stuff. Haha. Anyway. So that'd be cool, and prayers would be appreciated that maybe finally this one makes it. (Twould be really awesome if I went down there, filled out an application, and they hired me right away. But I'm a realist, and know that this won't happen. Unfortunately for me.) It sure would be nice to have an income again. I haven't bought anything, like, anything, most of the summer. Well, with the exception of things like books for my classes, toiletries, and the like. And obviously it helps that I live with my parents and they pay for things too, like...food, and living expenses...haha. But I want to do things like go see a few movies over the remainder of the summer, and I don't even feel like I should do that if I don't have cash flow. I really shouldn't do that, actually. Nor should I buy any DVDs, or CDs, or anything like that. And man, sigh, I want to. There are some movies I'd really like to own that are on sale for $7.50 this week at Best Buy. And I am quite a fan of buying movies for less than $10. But, again, I won't let myself, because I really can't. It sucks. And I'm not going to have any money to buy books for next semester, or to save and eventually pay off loans and such, and blah blah blah. I hate money. I hate not having it. Money can't buy happiness. Maybe that's true, but it sure can take the stress off of some things. It'd just be really nice for me at least to feel like I can help contribute more than I do, or to feel like I can be slightly more independent than I am. I hate the fact that I have no money. (Although, I guess I don't hate it enough that I'm willing to go to McDonalds to get a job. Not that there's any guarantee even they would take me.) And I just have a feeling that this is going to be how it'll be for awhile. Especially if I do grad school. Unless I do grad school and stay up there year-round. Then, theoretically, I wouldn't have this problem. But then there's the question of what am I going to do when I'm finally done with everything? I have no idea what I want to do. Well, that's not true, but I have no idea what I want to do until I get married and have kids. It'd be one thing if I were an engineering major, or a business major, or something. But I'm not. Sigh. Ok anyway. Sorry.

In other news, I want this book. That is all.

My parish does that thing before Mass starts where they ask everyone new or visiting to stand up, while an usher runs around with a microphone so that we can hear each and every one of their life stories. I'm not a big fan of it in general, but whatever. Today? It took a good ten minutes for the whole thing to be over. Meaning Mass started ten minutes late. It just...wasn't a good start for me. Oh well. Sorry.

Lately there's been this cat hanging around our house at night. She seems to fight with Colt the few times Colt is out there at night (or at least they make noise at each other, I don't know if there's actual fighting going on. I hope not, since Colt has no claws, and that's not good in a fight). And she sits out there and mews loudly some nights. Like last night. And a little bit tonight. I think it's the same one, anyway. I keep trying to shoo it away, but it keeps coming back. So I tried taking Kebbie out there tonight, but the two times I got her out there, it had gone far enough away that I couldn't see it. It's sitting in the yard right now though. I wonder if it's homeless or something. Seems kinda pathetic. And why's it just hanging out like that? Very weird. I feel kinda bad for it, but I also kinda want Kebbie to have the satisfaction of chasing a cat, as she does like to do that. Eh oh well. Ok so now the cat's just laying on the porch. I just went out to see if it'd run away, and it didn't. Even seemed like it was about to come towards me. And then I checked a minute later and when I opened the door it was standing kind of in front of it, and it seems like she wants to come in. That'd be bad, obviously, because Kebbie would be chasing her like there's no tomorrow and who knows what would happen there. (And obviously there's other reasons why it'd be bad.) I feel kinda bad for it though. It's just sitting out there, occasionally meowing kind of sadly. I'm tempted to pet it but I'm not a fan of touching strange animals that show up on the porch. Could have like rabies or...fleas or...something. Hm. Awhile later, still out there. So weird. Maybe it's a he and he's in love with Colt. Haha.

Well, I guess that's all. Wow I wrote a lot. Hope you had fun with that. Haha.

What is wrong with this world?

You may or may not have heard about the pregnant woman in Ohio who went missing last week. She was last heard from last Wednesday, when her mom talked to her, and then when her mom couldn't get ahold of her Thursday, she went to the house on Friday to find her two year old grandson alone, with a dirty diaper, and the house was messy and looked like something had happened there. They found her body today, apparently, and arrested her boyfriend (who had previously, of course, said he wasn't involved, but I guess it was fishy). I read somewhere that his lawyer ended up telling the FBI where the body was or something, perhaps in an attempt to get the guy a lessened charge maybe, but I haven't seen that in the articles I've read so I don't know if that's true. Either way, it looks like he did it. It's such a sad story. Whatever he (allegedly, gotta be PC here) did, he did it in front of his and her two-year-old son, who has been heard to say that "Mommy's in the rug." She was 9 months pregnant with their second child, due July 3. He is married but separated, and has at least one kid with his wife. Oh, and he's a cop. Who's had domestic abuse charges against him before, among other things I guess. It's just all so messed up. How could someone do that? It's unfathomable to me. And incredibly sad. When I first heard about this, I hoped that they'd find her (obviously), but I very much doubted they would. At least, that they'd find her alive. It's rare that these things have happy endings. But the fact that it was her boyfriend, the father of her two kids, it's just despicable. Especially considering the fact that many are speculating that he killed her for some reason like child support. Horrible. Of course, it is just speculation, but whatever the "reason," it's not a good one.

And then I saw this other headline today, something about "Father charged with murder of wife, 3 children." I guess last week sometime this guy flagged down a car on the highway with a gunshot wound in his thigh, saying that he needed help with his family. They (his wife and three kids, all under the age of like 12) were in their car, all shot, all dead. I guess he wasn't being named as a suspect initially, but today (or sometime recently), he was arrested and charged with all their murders. They're not saying why they arrested him, or any motive or anything, but geez. It's almost gotten to the point where it's just another news story for another day when a husband or wife kills his or her spouse and/or children. I don't know, maybe it's always been like that, but it sure seems more prevalent lately. And it's horrible. What kind of a world is this, where you're not even safe with your own family anymore? It's not like there's a shortage of strangers killing people for whatever reason. Why do people have to do it to their own families?

Most excellent

I was having a discussion with my younger brother early last week. I believe it had something to do with the Sopranos finale, a show which I had never seen even five minutes of, but of which I did see the very last few minutes (because it was posted all over online and such, since it was such a big deal and all). I had no real opinion on it, although for some reason I like the belief that Tony Soprano was killed at the end. But that's not the point. The point is, they played "Don't Stop Believin" by Journey during that last portion. I happen to love that song. My brother, as I found out last week, thinks it sucks. This makes me quite sad, as it's objectively an awesome song, and therefore my younger brother has some serious problems.

Either way, this would be an excellent album to own at some point, I think.

Long Lost Love

My dog and I renewed a mutual love tonight. Not of each other, but of a food. Summer sausage, to be precise. Mom and I bought some last night at the store, because I had been craving it. And man. I love this stuff. And Kebbie looooves it too. She gets very clingy and "look at my cute cute eyes" whenever she sees me eating it or cutting it. (And I of course am completely powerless to resist those eyes. With the little bits of white showing at the corners, to make her look just a little bit more cute and pathetic. She has the whole schtick down, let me tell you. Although, to be honest, she doesn't even have to try to look cuter when it comes to me. I'm powerless to resist her no matter what. My sweet little baby puppy.) What can I say, she gets her good taste from me. (Excluding the fact that she eats cat poop, of course. But you know, who doesn't like a nice litter-covered...eh sorry can't even finish that sentence. Gross.) And, it's true, I don't stoop quite to the level she does, and eat the paper that's around the sausage. A bit much for me. Not for her though. Haha. She's so funny.

Anyway. Mmm summer sausage.

In other words, I'm never gonna get it

If I ever get a job, this CD will be one of the first things I buy, I think. (Not that I plan on going on a shopping spree or something if ever I have income again, but yeah.) Some of my absolute favorites, and it's all cello! I love cello music. In case you didn't know.

Double whammy

So a few minutes ago I went down to the basement to get the last of a few Vitamin Waters Dad had bought for me a week or two ago (Flavor XXX, with some weird fruit, blueberries, and pomegranite. Quite delish, and my favorite). I wanted to put it in the fridge so it'd be cold tomorrow when I went out and about, such as to go watch my nephew while my sister has a couple of appointments. (New baby should be here a week from today, if all goes well -- they're doing an amniocentesis on Wednesday to make sure his lungs and such are developed enough, since he'll be four weeks early, and then the C-section is scheduled for Thursday afternoon.) Anyway. I went downstairs to get it, and what do I find but a nice little pile of puke on the ground. Now, the cat pukes sometimes, but usually it's more hairball-like. This was full out throw up. And a lot more than I would expect could come out of her. (I'm pretty sure it was the cat because Kebbie rarely goes downstairs without one of us already being down there, since there's nothing really to interest her down there, and earlier tonight I heard a noise that I thought was Colt throwing up, but I didn't see her in the living room or dining room, where she normally chooses to throw up.) So. It was disgusting, but there was no point in leaving it (pretending I hadn't seen it and hope that one of my parents saw it first...hehe), so I went back upstairs, put the drink in the fridge, and got some newspaper, paper towels, spray, etc. Went to start the clean up.

A few minutes later, Kebbie joins me down there (Colt had followed me initially, and was watching me clean up her handiwork, just sitting back all cool and stuff. Although truth be told I think she might not be feeling too well, really. But I don't really know). After a few more minutes, Kebbie decides to go back upstairs. Only, she's quite clumsy in the turning around and managing to get up the stairs thing. And it's obvious that she's all of a sudden quite dizzy. Out of nowhere. She had been fine just minutes before. And I just thought to myself, "Oh no, not again." See, a few weeks ago, I heard some noises upstairs that sounded like somebody moving around in one of the rooms. Sounded like it was coming from my brother's room, but I had thought that Kebbie was in my parents' room, so I didn't know what it was. Thought it was maybe the cat or something. A little while later, Dad comes down carrying Kebbie. She had gotten up all of a sudden, in their room, and was walking around like she was dizzy. So he wanted to take her outside, hoping fresh air might help. It didn't really, and he stayed down here for awhile watching her (and fell asleep on the couch). Eventually he headed up, and I followed a few minutes later, as it seemed maybe Kebbie had calmed down and actually fallen asleep. She ended up following me upstairs, and seemed somewhat less shaky thank before, but still off. Anyway. I guess by the next morning she was ok again, and it hasn't happened since. It was really scary though.

So when I noticed that happening again, I finished the wipedown of the floor I was currently doing, and went up to make sure she was ok. And she wasn't really. So I just...I don't really remember, but I got her to lie down eventually, and I went downstairs to finish cleaning and bring the stuff back up here and whatnot, put/throw it away, and then turn back to Kebbie. She didn't want to stay down, but she's too unsteady on her feet when she's like this (she's already full-out fallen, on her side, on her stomach, etc tonight, way more than she should), so I have to keep her down. She's been doing well for awhile now, staying on the floor. But this whole thing sucks a lot. I know she's getting old, and she's probably not going to be around very much longer. And I can't describe the ache which that realization causes. She's been with us for 13 years now. The better part of my life. More than half my life. The half that I remember the best. Sometimes it's like we're already on borrowed time with her as it is. Last summer I half expected that we would have to put her down when, during the process of her annual shaving, the groomers found a nasty looking tumor thing on her side. (It wouldn't be summer without some sort of pet emergency -- four years ago when Pebo died, Colt almost died too, and it's only because Pebo had died that my parents were so willing for my sake to run tests and such on Colt to figure out what was wrong with her. Turned out she had somehow managed to swallow and get stuck in her windpipe a very small pineconey thing which was causing her to be unable to breathe much.) We took her to the vet a few days later, and they did a test and I think it turned out to be malignant, and we had them cut it off and sew it up. The day they did it was horrible. I was worried all day, expecting something to go wrong. But she got through it all right, and she's still here obviously. But (much as I like to deny it), she's getting old: her hearing isn't what it used to be, neither is her eyesight. And now this. I don't really have any idea what this could be, but it's not good, even if it's not something that might really affect her quality of life aside from the few episodes. She's not going to live forever, though. And stuff like this makes me realize that.

The only thing I can hope and pray for (and I do, often) is that I'll be here when it's finally time for her to go. We've had several pets die in my lifetime; a cat that we only had a few years after moving here, and therefore who I don't remember all that well, a dog we had less than a year before she got hit by a car, and Pebo and Blackie, obviously. I've never physically been there when any of them have actually died, nor have I seen them afterward. So it's kind of a non-closed thing for me, almost. Like...they just went somewhere or something. I don't know. I just...I need to be there when it happens with Kebbie. I just need that. I don't know why, but I do. The way it happened with Pebo...which I've been thinking about lately, perhaps because it was around now when it happened four years ago (it was June 14), and I really really miss her sometimes. Anyway, it was horrible. We went on vacation, she wasn't doing well (we figured it was her missing my dad), and then all of a sudden, I woke up one morning and my parents told me she had to be put down the night before. And it was like one of those worst-case scenario things I sometimes imagine but rarely ever happen. It was horrible. I just need to be there with Kebbie. Anyway. Sorry. Few things cause me such intense emotions as does Kebbie. She's my love, my baby, and I don't want to imagine what it'll be like when she's gone. So I guess I'd better stop.

I am a selfish, pathetic mess of a human being. And I don't want to be, but I also don't want to do what is necessary to change to a better person, the person I'm sure God would rather me be. Because in my experience, people who are like that tend to get forgotten, ignored, stepped all over. And I've had quite enough of that in my life. I'm sick of that.

And yet, is being recognized in some form or another really worth it if I feel like crap about it?

Who turned off the lights?

I was taking a shower this afternoon. I had gone hiking in the morning, until around 11:30, then gotten lunch and went to my weekly chiropractic appointment. Got home around...1:45 maybe. I got into the shower around 2, and started my shower routine, which starts with shampooing my hair. Well, an unexpected and unpleasant thing happened as I was getting ready to rinse out the shampoo. The power went out. I had my eyes closed at that point, so I couldn't tell except that the fan in the ceiling went out, as well as the radio turning off. Opened my eyes, and no difference. I'm not a fan of being in the shower and having it go pitch black. I'm not afraid of the dark, but it's creepy enough being in the shower sometimes (you know, your eyes are closed, your imagination starts to go, scenes from Psycho and The 6th Sense go through your head (there's no shower scenes in the latter, but sometimes I can still creep myself out by thinking maybe I'll turn around or open my eyes and there'll be a dead person standing there), and it's just creepy) without the power going out. And in the middle of the day, when it's not even storming. So anyway, I turn off the water, get out of the shower, throw a towel on, and go downstairs to where the power breaker thingy whatever it's called is. All the power in the house was off. I was about to start investigating (no idea what I thought I was going to do), when it comes back on. So I'm like, ok. I go back upstairs, get back into the shower, rinse out the shampoo, start putting conditioner in, and...it goes off again! So I just said screw this because I was really annoyed since I was quite dusty, sweaty, and just gross in general, and I went to finish my shower in my parents' bathroom, since they have a window and a light isn't exactly necessary in the middle of the day. It was weird because I hadn't taken a shower in there in years. I don't think the power went off again (of course), but oh well. It probably would have had I gone back into my bathroom. Psh.

So that was my excitement for today. I've always dreaded the thought of the power going out while I was in the shower (that, and having a fire alarm go off...here's hoping I don't have to experience that one), so at least I know I can survive that. Haha.

Rejection

We all hate rejection. It's just not a happy thing. Ever. No one (usually) says "Man, I really hope I get rejected for that thing I applied for," or "I hope those people over there reject me." I mean, there are exceptions to every rule, obviously, but for the most part, people prefer not to be rejected. I expect to be rejected. As a result, I very much dislike applying for things, trying out for things, even getting to know new people sometimes. It just rarely feels worth it to me because I assume I'll end up rejected as always. Oh, I'll still do it (usually), but I don't expect anything to come from it. And rarely anything does. (Case in point: this summer. Number of job applications turned in? Well, I don't really know. But well into the double digits. Number of even tiny nibbles? One. I guess kind of two, but not really. Number of jobs actually offered to me? Zero.) So I hate applying for things that I actually really want to get. Because, to me, hoping for something like that is almost a death sentence. I don't like to be very optimistic about things over which I have very little control, such as things that I apply for. It just doesn't work out well for me.

So, try as I might, I'm trying not to get excited about the possibility of going to grad school at the JPII Institute. Or going to that Gospel of Life seminar over fall break. I want to do them (I think), but I don't want to start thinking like I'll be able to do them. Because I just know that the minute I start counting on it, I won't get it. And then what? It's so much easier to apply detached from something, than to apply with your heart on your sleeve, so to speak. For some reason the line "My life is a perfect graveyard of buried hopes" springs to mind. Anyway. Against all my better judgment, better reasoning, better...everything, the more I think about it (and even when I don't), the more I want it to happen. And I really really hate that. But with situations such as these, in which I have no control beyond applying, I guess the only thing I can do is remember that it's in God's hands, and if it's meant to be, it'll happen. Whether or not I'm perfect on paper. (Because, much as I might try to be, I'm most definitely not even close. Obviously.)

Enough already

I was just sitting here, minding my own business, looking through the help wanted ads from yesterday, and I was scratching my head or something, when I noticed a sort of tickling sensation on the back of my hand. I figured it was some little gnat or something that we get in the house all the time during the summer. Irritating, but innocent enough. So I bring my hand down to my face to check it out, and what do I see crawling across my hand but -- yep, you guessed it -- a spider. A gross, kind of big-ish, black spider. On my hand. ON MY HAND. I emitted sort of a whispered scream, the closest I've ever come actually to screaming when faced with a spider. I shook my hand to get it off, and it landed on a knitting project sitting on the little table thing next to me, and it just sat there. Luckily I had a tissue on that table as well, so I didn't have to get up and worry about the spider crawling away while getting something with which to kill it. Seriously. Where do they come from? Why are they always on me? I haven't really had that problem much before, but this summer so far I've had spiders crawling on my person three times already. It is not fun for an arachnophobe. I am so sick of spiders. I hate them with a fiery burning passion. "blah blah they eat other bugs blah blah." Other bugs don't bother me so much. Spiders? Creep me out like nothing else. I just want them to go away. If they stay out of my line of sight, and off of me, that's fine. I'm ok with them then. But as soon as they venture somewhere that makes them visible to me, or as soon as they dare to venture on to me, it's all over baby. Ugh. I think that maybe they might be coming down from the light fixture that's right above this spot on the couch where I like to sit. I don't know how else to explain having two spiders crawling on me while sitting in this seat. And finding a few other spiders around here as well. I'm so freaking grossed out right now. Spiders suck, and that's the moral of the story. (If there's a bright side to this story, it's that at least these spiders have yet to reach this size. I cannot imagine my reaction if I saw that on the wall, let alone crawling on my hand. I mean...ugh. I wouldn't be able to be comfortable anywhere for quite awhile, I think, and I also don't think I'd be able to get enough courage to get close enough so that I could kill it. And as the majority of my spider-sightings occur at night when my parents have gone to bed, or some other time when I'm by myself (as I pointed out to my mom earlier tonight, as we were looking at that post, because I said that if I did see a spider that big, I'd be tempted to go up and wake up my dad. But I'd probably feel bad about it and end up finding something big and heavy with which to kill the disgusting thing), I wouldn't have anyone to fall back on to kill it for me. But dang. I'm so glad I haven't seen one that big. Yet. Shudder shudder shudder.

Bad from the start

You just know that when a day starts out with an uncomfortable-feeling stomach that wakes you up in the early early morn, and continues to keep you from falling back into a good sleep, until you finally give up and head for the bathroom hoping to get rid of whatever's in there and eventually end up expelling it all orally (and then go back to bed in the hopes of getting at least a few good hours of sleep, even though your throat now is stinging and there's that uncomfortable taste and feeling left in your mouth/throat/nose area), it's just not going to be a good day.

And it wasn't. This job thing sucks. Why am I so un-hireable?

(For the record, the day hasn't been too bad since around noon or so. But still. I'm broke. And in debt. With no prospects of either changing any time soon.)

What are people thinking?

I came across these today. I guess I shouldn't draw attention to them because maybe if no one does, then no one will buy them. I can't imagine anyone buying them anyway. They're bizarre and ugly and seem like they'd be a lot of work to keep on. Man. I hope these don't become the new Crocs, with everyone wearing them. I see enough of people's feet when they wear flip flops. I don't want to see the whole foot. Feet are gross, and that's why shoes are nice, because it hides at least part of them. These? Not so much. So, just say no to these pieces of foam. (Maybe the aren't even real -- when I went to the "buy" button, it said something about still under development. Maybe that's because they suck. But I'd bet dollars to donuts that they'll be like $30. At least. For two pieces of foam.)

What can you expect, though? They're from England. Crazy people over there. Haha. (Although, not everything from England is bad. Just look at this guy. And this one. Seriously, chills. It's amazing, that guy. And then there's this girl too. Anyway. I was going to make a separate post with the first performance when I saw it a few days ago, but then I came across the second and third today, and then I just threw it in here. Oh well. They're well worth watching if you have a few minutes.)

There is absolutely no point to this post whatsoever.

Um....dangit I forgot my primary reason for making a post. Maybe I'll just type for awhile. I do enjoy the typing. OH! I've been wanting to talk about something for a few days now. Really nothing interesting, but something which makes me extremely happy. I've discussed my growing appreciation for Christopher Guest before, I think (and if not, well I think he's awesome), but yeah, he's just awesome. I rented Waiting for Guffman last week, and we watched it and it's fairly hilarious. Including and especially Christopher Guest. Oh man yeah. So anyway. He's just so amazing. Virtually unrecognizable in many of his roles. It's amazing. So then like the next day I watched The Princess Bride, one of the best movies ever. Seriously. Ridiculously awesome movie, and pretty much anyone can watch it and appreciate it for at least some aspect. Kids can watch and love it, adults can watch and love it, so it's one of those movies you can watch forever and not feel weird doing so. (Like, it's probably slightly odd to watch...I don't know, Power Rangers or some specifically kid-aimed movie, once you hit past the age of like ten. Ok, I guess it's always weird to watch Power Rangers, but you know what I mean. I couldn't think of anything else, because I'll admit that I still watch a number of childhood favorites and am probably slightly odd for doing so -- Disney movies, Homeward Bound, other cartoon movies, etc. I enjoy the non-offensiveness of kid movies. Except when they're stupid. AKA kid movies made after I grew out of being a kid. Mostly. Pixar movies not included.) But anyway, the Princess Bride rocks. (And Christopher Guest is in it, and I hadn't watched it in awhile and especially not since beginning to appreciate -- or even know -- him.) I cannot gush enough about this movie. I mean, man. It blows me away with its amazingness. Don't you like the variety of adjectives I'm using in this paragraph? Awesome and amazing. Words of the day I guess. How blase they are. Oh well. Anyway. The Princess Bride makes me unbelievably happy. And that's all there is to it.

Speaking of movies, as some of you may know, I happen to be in love with the movie adaptation of Anne of Green Gables (and the Sequel). I know they're not terribly accurate to the books, especially the sequel, but I've never actually read any of the books I don't think -- just a much-slimmed down version of the first. Anyway, I don't care. I love them, and I probably watch them at least twice a year. Usually over a week or two or so. (Just a few minutes here and there, before bed, while changing, etc.) The only copy I have is two VHSes of them taped off of PBS back when they were fairly new, I suppose, which means late 80s-early 90s sometime. They're starting to wear out, sadly. Now, they've never been the best -- there's those lovely breaks when the people come on doing their pledge drive as PBS likes to do, and there's sections that for some reason didn't get recorded, and there's the fun of finishing whatever was taped on the first tape and moving to the second where the story starts up again. But I've dealt with it, and those pledge drive people are almost as much part of the nostalgia as the movie itself. Maybe not quite, but whatever. I have been wanting to get the DVDs for awhile, though. I've rented them from the library a few times, and it's weird to see the scenes I never really knew were missing. And not to have the nice tracking lines and messed up music as the show kind of got a little fuzzy with regard to reception or whatever, but then mostly fixed itself. The thing is, though, that the DVDs are kind of expensive. Like $20 a piece. I think it's because it's a Canadian movie and such, so they're considered "imports" or whatever. I barely like to spend more than $10 on a DVD, hence I have yet to buy myself these ones. But someday I'll get them. If only because I don't know how much longer those tapes are going to last. I've quite worn them out. Sad. Nothing lasts, though, I guess.

I was just looking through May's posts, looking for something specific, and I happened to notice that my 600th entry in this blog was on May 2nd. It's June 15th today, and this is my 672nd post. I write a lot. I'm ok with that. It's such a lovely outlet to have, it really is.

Know what? I've been what I can probably classify as "drunk" around twice in my life. (Both times in college, thank you very much.) And you know how many of those two times were since I turned 21 (back in September)? Zero. I guess I've been tipsy once since becoming legal (maybe twice), but never drunk. I'm not a big fan of drinking, really. Oh, sure, I like my girly mixed drinks once in awhile, but I much prefer not to taste alcohol. And I really prefer not to feel drunk. It's just not for me. (Sorry, I was just thinking about this because one of my friends finally turned 21 today, and I think her intention was probably to do the typical "I'm finally 21 thing, let's get me smashed." Not that there's anything wrong with that, necessarily. I never quite did that, for better or worse, mostly because when I turned 21 none of my friends were around, nor was I around them thanks to my deciding to stay home for a semester, idiot that I am. I did have a margarita on my birthday, so at least I had something. Haha. Anyway. That's all.)

Guess what? I haven't gotten gas in my car in over three weeks now. Helps that I have very few places to go. And lucky for me, as my tank's getting close to the point where I'll have to fill up again, prices are going down. Saw $3.05 today at the cheap station, but I've seen $3.08 and $3.09 around too, so hopefully the cheap station will get even cheaper in the next few days. So basically, go me. (And now prices will shoot back to $3.20 just in time for me to have to fill up. Twould be my luck.)

I want to go to Breckenridge. It's so pretty up there. I'm a big big fan.

I also want to go camping. And I think it'd be really fun to ride horses through the trails and such. I've only been on a horse once in my life, I think, and it was just around a little fenced-in area, and it was years and years ago. But I want to go horseback riding sometime. I decided I should marry a rancher. Who cooks. Yes. And has lots of money.

Much as I hate homework and schoolwork and that type of stuff, I can't help myself from getting more and more into the idea of going to the JPII Institute for grad school. Which is just bad. I don't like getting excited about things. I always end up being disappointed. Ok maybe not always, but whatever. But...it could be really cool. Eh I don't know.

Ok. I've rambled enough tonight to scratch my typing itch. So here I shall leave you all. Older brother's coming down tomorrow night, and most of us I think might be going to see Ocean's Thirteen tomorrow night. Which I'm kind of excited about, because I've heard it's pretty good. And then Tom's staying until Monday sometime. And i have an interview Monday. Which isn't a good thing, because I hate interviews and I think I'm horrible in interviews (partially because I hate those stupid scenario questions and always have to bite back some sarcastic answer, and instead put forth a tired answer that's pretty much what everyone probably says. Because I never know. I hate hypotheticals. Hate them. So yeah. Sigh), but it could be good if I get the job. Potentially. Anyway. Yeah. So. There you go.

It's about time

Tonight was good. The Red Sox beat...um...San Francisco. 10-2. So that's good. AND the Yankees lost. Which is also quite good. To the Mets, too. I'm not a Mets fan at all (except when they play the Yankees, of course), but I think that the Mets and the Yankees are pretty big rivals. And it's nice when the Yankees lose, and especially when it's to a rival. I'm mean, sorry. The thing is, I'm generally just mean with people in general. But when it comes to individual people, I can't really be mean to them or wish them ill. Like people on game shows. I hate watching people lose on like game shows and stuff, even when they're stupid. The people or the shows. And I hate individualizing certain players in games, especially games in which my teams are playing and the individualized players are on the other team. Because then sometimes I almost feel bad. But usually not. Especially if my team is playing someone like USC. Or the Yankees. Or...well I don't really have any teams I hate in the NFL, oddly. I guess I hate them all equally when they're playing the Patriots. Oh well. Anyway. Yay Red Sox, yay Mets beating the Yankees.

What did I do today? What a lovely question

Today was (is) the feast of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. I happen to like this feast day (actually a Solemnity, which means it's more important, more or less) quite a bit. Not sure why. But anyway, I had noticed earlier this week that this feast was today. And I was like "I want to go to Mass that day." Sad how infrequently I go to daily Mass during the summer. Sigh. Anyway. So today came and went, and no Mass did I go to. Forgot what today was. I'm a little sad about this. But...oh well. Nothing I can do about it now. Just the way things go sometimes, I guess. At least I did lots of physical activity today, so I didn't feel like a complete lazy good-for-nothing. I took Kebbie for a walk, because I was getting ready to head out to go running and she gave me that look, those eyes, which I just cannot resist. So I took her, came back, went out again and went running this time (well, running/walking, as usual...sigh). And then later Peter and I went over to watch Jason for a bit while Cathy went to another of her weekly appointments, and he wanted to go outside, go to the park etc (they live basically across the street from Memorial Park, and he likes going to the like slides and stuff near the lake, and watching/feeding the ducks, when we have stuff with which to feed them). Anyway, I kinda didn't feel like messing with the car seat (getting it in my car, etc) so I was like, let's just walk. I don't think Peter was too excited about that prospect, but he's in the army, he should be used to lots of walking. Not sure why, but yeah. Anyway. Unfortunately, the lake is kind of on the end of Memorial Park that's farthest from the street across which Cathy lives. So it was a bit more of a walk than I anticipated. And Jason wanted to be carried. Well, he was walking fine (slowly, of course, but fine) but then I picked him up to cross the street as it's a busy one. And then he didn't want me to put him down until we got pretty much to the lake. And he's getting big. And he didn't want Peter to carry him. So that was a nice work out. Then repeat the process to walk back to Cathy's. Only I carried him more, it felt like. And eventually just gave him to Peter. Jason protested for a little while, but eventually gave it up. Anyway. It was hot out today. So I was a bit drained by the end of the day. That's my long story. Sorry. How boring my life is.

Something interesting did happen today, however. I had just gotten back into my room after taking a shower and brushing my teeth and stuff like that, and my cell phone rang. Didn't recognize the number, and generally I don't like to answer the phone when I don't recognize the number (I'm a major call-screener, especially because I just hate talking on the phone for some reason. Avoid it at all costs, really). But considering the fact that I've been turning in job applications like a mad woman lately (ok that might be a slight exaggeration), I figured it might be prudent to answer this one. And guess who it was? Regis Philbin. Ok I don't even know why I said that. (But did you know he graduated from ND? He did. Lived in Zahm his freshman year. The dorm closest to Cavanaugh. Also one of the weirder ones...they do the Bun Run the Sunday before finals both in the winter and spring. Which means they go streaking through Lafortune, the student center. At midnight. They're weird weird boys.) Anyway, it was some woman from Target down the road, calling to ask if I was still looking for a job. "Yes, I'm pathetic and have yet to have anyone express any interest in me despite the fact that I've been looking almost a month now, and am flat broke." Ok I didn't really say that. Just the yes. Anyway, I have an interview on Monday. I'm trying not to get my hopes up, but I am kind of hoping that it's just a formality (like the interview I had when I go the job at Dillards two summers ago. I guess maybe if I had shown up in torn jeans, pierced from here to high heaven (is that the phrase? don't think I've ever used it), and was basically just a slob, perhaps I wouldn't have gotten that job). I mean, I don't know what they pay or anything, but man I'm getting desperate. I have no money. Like, almost literally. Or perhaps completely literally. It's incredibly depressing. And I don't want to have to work retail, but I'm out of options. I figure it's slightly better than food service, which is the next step I'll have to take. Geez. It's the middle of JUNE. The MIDDLE of JUNE. And I'm unemployed. Which means I have about two months left in which I can make money. I so want to play the lottery right now. I mean, maybe I'd have incredible beginner's luck, and I'd win, and while "money can't buy happiness," it sure would solve a lot of my problems. Or at the very least, alleviate them. But I doubt it's in the cards for me ever to get anything like that. Sadly. Geez. Ugh. Ok sorry. Hopefully I'll just get this job, it'll be...ok, and it'll pay at least semi-decently. And maybe if I'm lucky, I'll get a nice discount. Just for the necessities, though, of course. Sigh.

We shall see.

The troubles of a Bigfoot

Know what's really sad about the fact that I have ginormous feet? I can't get these (and expect them to fit very well). Or these. Or any cute socks. I'm doomed to a lifetime of boring plain old white socks. It's hard enough to find the large version of those, though. Annoying.

Incidentally, it seems that the UK has a number of online "tall girl" type stores. I don't know how ordering things online from another country works, nor do I know the conversion rate at all, therefore I'm not venturing into this new world of possibilities next time I need some clothes. (Which I don't right now. At all.) It's just interesting. Why aren't there more US-based ones? Are US women just not as tall as British women?

I guess I should just be thankful that I'm only kind of tall for the female gender. And not, like, very tall (over six feet) or abnormally tall (like...over 6'3 or something maybe). I just feel really tall because for some reason I happen to have befriended a number of quite short girls over the years. Like at school, there's Julie who's 5'6, which is average. And then there's Caitlin and Katherine and Bethany, who are all I think around the 5'2/3 range, maybe. I forget. But it requires a lot of bending down for me to be at eye level with them. And then here, there's Cathy who's like 3 feet. haha just kidding. She's like 5'1. And Hellen's somewhere around there. And then I do have some more close to my height friends. Kristina's close to my height. Lauren and Kaleena are probably around average-ish. I don't know. Guess it doesn't help that for some reason it seems like a large majority of the guys at ND tend toward the shorter side, which doesn't help making me feel any less stand out-ish, or shorter. oh well. Anyway, I'm rambling. The point is that I have feet which preclude the buying of regular sized socks, the ones that are generally labelled "one size fits all," but which we all know don't really. Alas.

A little late, but happy anniversary Mom and Dad!

Today is my parents' 27th anniversary. Forgot to post something about it sooner, but I didn't want it to pass without acknowledging it. In a world where 5 years is becoming a rare anniversary at which to arrive, I'm so glad and so lucky and so thankful to have parents who have endured through the tough times, the annoying kids, and flourished in the good times, and who have given my siblings and me a wonderful example of marriage. Here's hoping they make it to their goal, their 100th anniversary. (How cool would that be?) Well, here's to you two.

And their legacy will only grow bigger as our family does. (I wish I had a picture on my laptop of our family 19 years ago. And of my parents when they got married. Alas, I do not. My mom looked a bit younger, and my dad looked a lot more geeky. hehe. Love you guys!)

Get her away!!!

I should never be allowed to cook. I'm pretty good at managing to ruin anything I try to make, ever. Cookies, cakes, rice, canned soup. It's sad. :-(

Oh computer, how you hurt me

Normally, my laptop and I have a great relationship. I've given this thing a lot of grief, and still it puts up with me, faithfully sitting on my lap at all hours of any given day, letting me tap-tap-tap away at its keys. And I am grateful, and appreciative. Occasionally, however, and growing more frequent as it ages, my laptop disappoints me in a way that only technological things can. First of all, it must be noted that, to go along with my packrat tendencies, I often leave several Firefox windows open at a time. A few that are links that have popped up new windows, and then one main window on which I normally work which itself often has open at least a few tabs. I keep these things up for ridiculous amounts of time, as I rarely completely shut off my computer, preferring instead to put it on standby when I'm done at night, until such time as I open it back up the next day. This allows me to keep open said windows and tabs. However, it poses a few problems. My computer likes occasionally to update itself. And occasionally this brings up a nice little pop up, letting me know that it's going to restart itself automatically in five minutes. I can prolong the inevitable by clicking something along the lines of "restart later," but then this thing will pop up again a few minutes after I hit that. So I know that when that comes up, I have to clean house and make sure that if there's anything I want to keep, I have to bookmark it or just write down whatever I was doing or something like that. But sometimes, this will happen when I'm not at my computer. (A hazard of turning the computer on, putting my AIM to away status, and then closing the lid and doing something else, without turning the computer off or on standby.) And then I'll come back to a computer that has restarted and lost all the windows and tabs I had open. Normally, while it's quite annoying, it's not a big deal really. Most tabs and windows that I keep up are things I barely go back to ever again, so whatever. Occasionally it's more irritating, but usually it's just an annoyance.

Such is the case today. I went to class, after turning my computer on and then going away. Came back to a computer that was off and apparently out of battery. I initially thought it was just the battery thing, as I hate the battery on this stupid laptop. (I really need to do something about it, like Dell suggested I start up the laptop in some other system, like BIOS or something like that to see if the battery has more juice in that case, in which it means that it's Windows that's eating up my battery so fast. Right now it has barely an hour long life, even though it used to have up to three hours. I miss those days. But alas, I'm not that computer-savvy, and thus am scared to try anything like starting up my computer in another system.) And it's not just the battery that's the problem, it's something having to do with where the power cord hooks into the back of my computer. It likes to be very loose, and thus occasionally I'll just be sitting with my laptop and the screen will start flickering a bit, since it's brighter when the power cord is plugged in (and registering as being plugged in). And the really annoying moments are when I'll have the power cord plugged in, yet no matter how much I jiggle it, which usually corrects the problem, it won't register. And then I just have to wait for the battery to run out of juice, let it go to hibernate as it does when the battery runs out, and then plug the cord back in and hit the power button. And it works again. I have no idea what's going on with that. It was doing it back in December and stuff, maybe earlier than that, but then once I got to school I didn't really notice that happening at all, even when I took my computer off the desk and to somewhere else. I do not get it. I suppose I could have it looked at, as this thing is still under warranty, but I don't know what that would entail. I don't like the idea of not having my laptop for x amount of days, as we are quite attached (despite my occasional irritation at it). So I don't know. Oh, but yeah, so when I got the thing restarted and plugged in and all again today when I got back (I know for a fact that when I left the cord was registering as charging the battery, because I checked), it was to a clean slate, and I was confused. But then I got a bubble announcement thing that said my computer had updated and had automatically restarted. So oh well. Both annoyances in one day. How fun. Haha.

Sigh. I guess I'll probably just put up with it, as I tend to do with things that annoy me, even though I could probably remedy the situation. I'm so weird sometimes.