Dear Grad School,
Ok, look—it took forever for me to get into you, and that was mostly my fault.
However, now that I’ve been accepted by you, I wish we could sort a few things out.
1) Why is registering for classes such an ordeal?
2) Why was the TK20 placement apparently supposed to be done by the first of July when our enrollment workshop isn’t until the 15th?
P.S. I definitely didn’t do it, so now I’m freaking out
3) Why do I not have a bill or any financial aid whatsoever yet? I got in a month ago, guys.
You’re freaking me out :/
I freaking love cider. All cider. Cider in a fancy bottle? Fuck yes.
Pear Cider in a big mug at the Stray Cat? Fuck yes.
Strongbow from Sunstop or Bevmo and in my fridge or in my tummy? Fuck yes.
So suck on that, ho.
RB: Twink, the crystal.
T: Colors make you happy!
That’s very educational
Cheese grater thighs
trying to force a chub rub that won’t quit
even after the time clock says
"ta-ta, work-to-date 5.8"
Sauce splatter decorates the calf like a
pizza hut homicide
and a dash of nacho cheese
coats those pants
just so you don’t forget what goes great with pretzels
Add a pinch of flavocol
to make your popcorn flavors pop
and your pants, too
Khaki never tasted so great
But I fear I’ve run you ragged,
you bedraggled, cargo buffet
and you’re retired
until I forget to do laundry again.
So, you know how on TV and in movies in hotels the house keeper comes and says, “house keeping!” and then barges in the room?
Well. I was sitting in my underwear on the couch before work, like ya do, and I swear I hear, “HOUSE KEEPING” right outside my door, so I panicked.
And went sprinting to my room holding my computer. my phone went flying across the couch and I fell because my computer was still plugged in (don’t worry, Othello is fine).
Then I quickly put on work clothes and came back out at nonchalantly as possible.
Except we don’t have housekeeping, because it’s an apartment not a hotel.
So that was weird.
I’ve got a feelin’
and tonight’s gonna be just another night
it’s a normal distribution after all
and even if I did drop statistics
I know that it’s mostly average.
we’re mostly average
except when we’re extraordinary
in either direction
and that just crops out of nowhere
so shouldn’t we be looking extra hard
so we don’t miss it?
I don’t wanna
I don’t wanna miss it
even if it’s just the sound of Daleks in the morning
or the most perfect popcorn pop pop popping its salty guts out
or the smell of crayons right out of the box rubbed across a page
Ordinary days are something to sing about.
I effing love you, True Blood.
You are so much better than chicken or chow mein by itself. I think it’s the fun. Whatever you’re doing, keep doing it, and I’ll keep eating you.
Didn’t we designate
Livejournal and Deviantart
for all our silly qualms
I’m sure we’ve had this talk before,
you silly bitch,
and let’s just simmer down now
and have a good time.
It’s time for good times.
Maybe summer’s just a liminal space
with the heat cranked up
just enough to make your back sweat
and you can’t forget it
even though you’re facing the other way
You could do a lot worse
Like pretend it’s not there
that every drop of awkward perspiration
isn’t sliding down your spine
down your nerves
staining your shirt
for everyone to see
It makes you look like shit
but it’s a gross misrepresentation
since they don’t know the whole story
Because while you get sunburned and heat stroke
they’re sipping lemonade by the pool
and sharing all the blue and pink otter pops
with SPF 100 protecting
all their summer days
You didn’t apply liberally enough
probably because you were
to jump into something
that was definitely going to be different