Thursday, October 21, 2010

homecoming week!

Since I've been in college, I've come to two conclusions:

1. Things never happen as you expect them to.
 This is not necessarily bad. For example, if you plan on hanging with two of your friends, and the friend who you're closer with can't go anymore and you're left to hang out with the other friend who you're slightly less close with. This could turn into a good situation because you get a chance to get to know this person better. Everyone's happy!

and 2. Things always get better.
I'm not sure if I phrased this to the best of my abilities, but I'll give an example of what I mean. (IT'S 11:11 MAKE A WISH!..........done) (another disruption: someone just tagged literally HORRIBLE pictures of me and my boyfriend on facebook, disaster avoided) ok. back to the example. Like I find myself sitting in my dorm room a lot feeling lonely and then I get a text inviting me to something. It always gets better! Now this isn't always what happens, me sitting around waiting for people to text me. I am often the inviter. But nevertheless, I love when this happens :)

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

mi boii

I like Conan. A lot. Everyone should have their own personal Conan. They should have someone to text them in the morning telling them they're beautiful, even though they're just rolling out of bed and look anything BUT beautiful. Oh, wait "their own personal Conan" will snuggle with them, hold their hand, and kiss them? .................Nah, they can't have him.



:)

is it really that bad?

I've been noticing recently about people's behaviors. Maybe it's cause I'm in a sociology class, but whatever. For some reason, people avoid eye contact and touch as if it's a life and death situation. Whenever I'm walking somewhere, people just forge ahead with their eyes facing front. There always needs to be a buffer seat in between you and a stranger in a movie theater. Heaven forbid you brush against someone in the hallway. Why do we do this? Think about it.

Current song: Winter Song by Sara Bareilles and Ingrid Michaelson