Girl: Chris! That's her. That's our professor!
Boy: No way.
Girl: I know. She actually dresses like she's from the same century as us.
Boy: Holyl shit. I'm changing my major.
Thursday, November 30, 2006
Monday, November 27, 2006
Because that's how I roll...
I'm impulsive. I'm reckless. I've been known to make bad choices and love every second of it. Why? Because sometimes that's how I roll. I've noticed this carefree attitude attracted to all that is bad has taken hold of me lately and refuses to loosen it's grip. And although I love it, the consequences of such an attitude has left me to ponder why lately, behaving badly feels so good.
I'm sure there are a million definitions of "bad", but for the point of this ramble, let's stick to mine- "of poor quality, unskillful, incorrect, wicked, offensive, harmful, injured, unpleasant, distressing and/or evil. (The last being my personal favourite)
Now before I continue let me say that I do have many good things going on in my life and I DO make good choices. I am not a strung out alcoholic who's like a piece of birthday cake with everyone having had a pieces. I promise. I am a good girl and make thoughtful, well-planned, logical choices-99.9% of the time. I refuse gluten laced food, would rather drink lemonade over tequila and have an unnatural obsession with cardigans (and yes, loving cardigans deems you 'good'). I play scrabble with a man who hugs his grandma and I floss before I go to sleep. I'm no where near close to destroying my life with my poor choices but it still makes me wonder.
My bad choices haven't left me feeling sick like gluten, nor have I woke up foggy of the last nights events (as is the case when tequila and I become fast friends). My bad choices have resulted in some awkward silences, hurt feelings and a few sleepless nights. Which makes me wonder- why make them? Why make the choices that I know are bad? Because it's the bad choices, the reckless attitude, the impulsive words that cause the thrill? Is that it? And if it is, is the thrill worth it? Why is it that it's the things that are bad for us- the food most damaging, the drink most destructive, the words most harmful that feel so good? That are so easy to justify? Would the cookie taste as good if you knew you shouldn't have it? Would we still say what we do if we knew there was a different outcome? Would you have another drink if you were assured there would be no headache the next day?
I like to think yes, but today I'm not sure.
Of course the downside to eating that second piece of cake, having the third martini or smoking the last cigarette is the after effect. The sick feeling- the hangover, the realization that there is a consequence to the pleasure a few careless acts can cause. And each time I suffer through this, I promise myself I will make the changes necessary. But then the cardigan doesn't fit right, the "what if's" run through my head and I make a choice I'm already regretting.
Why?
Because I'm impulsive. Because I don't have a 5 year plan. Because sometimes feeling good wins out over logic or smarts or any sense of appropriate behavior.
Because sometimes, that's how I roll.
I'm sure there are a million definitions of "bad", but for the point of this ramble, let's stick to mine- "of poor quality, unskillful, incorrect, wicked, offensive, harmful, injured, unpleasant, distressing and/or evil. (The last being my personal favourite)
Now before I continue let me say that I do have many good things going on in my life and I DO make good choices. I am not a strung out alcoholic who's like a piece of birthday cake with everyone having had a pieces. I promise. I am a good girl and make thoughtful, well-planned, logical choices-99.9% of the time. I refuse gluten laced food, would rather drink lemonade over tequila and have an unnatural obsession with cardigans (and yes, loving cardigans deems you 'good'). I play scrabble with a man who hugs his grandma and I floss before I go to sleep. I'm no where near close to destroying my life with my poor choices but it still makes me wonder.
My bad choices haven't left me feeling sick like gluten, nor have I woke up foggy of the last nights events (as is the case when tequila and I become fast friends). My bad choices have resulted in some awkward silences, hurt feelings and a few sleepless nights. Which makes me wonder- why make them? Why make the choices that I know are bad? Because it's the bad choices, the reckless attitude, the impulsive words that cause the thrill? Is that it? And if it is, is the thrill worth it? Why is it that it's the things that are bad for us- the food most damaging, the drink most destructive, the words most harmful that feel so good? That are so easy to justify? Would the cookie taste as good if you knew you shouldn't have it? Would we still say what we do if we knew there was a different outcome? Would you have another drink if you were assured there would be no headache the next day?
I like to think yes, but today I'm not sure.
Of course the downside to eating that second piece of cake, having the third martini or smoking the last cigarette is the after effect. The sick feeling- the hangover, the realization that there is a consequence to the pleasure a few careless acts can cause. And each time I suffer through this, I promise myself I will make the changes necessary. But then the cardigan doesn't fit right, the "what if's" run through my head and I make a choice I'm already regretting.
Why?
Because I'm impulsive. Because I don't have a 5 year plan. Because sometimes feeling good wins out over logic or smarts or any sense of appropriate behavior.
Because sometimes, that's how I roll.
Sunday, November 26, 2006
Charmed, I'm sure.
F.Y.I.: Ten Sentences That Will Charm Any Girl
(or at least.... me)
1. I play ____________ (insert any musical instrument here) .
2. Oh this picture? It's me and my nieces at the park.
3. Roger Moore IS the best James Bond!
4. I'm man enough to admit, I cried when I watched ___________ (insert any appropriate movie here. NOT appropriate movies include: Striptease, Gigli and/or any movie starring the Olsen twins.)
5. My greatest joy is making others happy.
6. I don't smoke. ("unless I'm on fire", is the perfect ending for a girl like me who likes lame lines, but I don't feel it's necessary for the charming to take place)
7. Paris who?
8. I understand.
9. Can I make you dinner/shovel out your truck/buy you a small island/challenge you to foose?
10. You're right.
(or at least.... me)
1. I play ____________ (insert any musical instrument here) .
2. Oh this picture? It's me and my nieces at the park.
3. Roger Moore IS the best James Bond!
4. I'm man enough to admit, I cried when I watched ___________ (insert any appropriate movie here. NOT appropriate movies include: Striptease, Gigli and/or any movie starring the Olsen twins.)
5. My greatest joy is making others happy.
6. I don't smoke. ("unless I'm on fire", is the perfect ending for a girl like me who likes lame lines, but I don't feel it's necessary for the charming to take place)
7. Paris who?
8. I understand.
9. Can I make you dinner/shovel out your truck/buy you a small island/challenge you to foose?
10. You're right.
Saturday, November 25, 2006
Jon Stewart and Me
So I've succumbed to peer pressure and have started an actual blog. I've done this for the following reasons:
- I have a few spare hours to kill before I watch Bond kill
- I actually enjoy writing but feel that my attention span won't allow me to compose a novel
- I was told I should (and after this, I'm jumping off that bridge)
- People are annoyed with the yellow star that keeps showing up on my msn space each time I waste time there.
- I want to join the pretentious masses who tell you they 'blog'
I want to be a blogger but I have a sad feeling no one reads the blogs of random people. People read the blogs of individuals fighting off serious diseases, battling mother nature or discovering cures to diseases with really long names. Or famous people. Even I admit, if Jon Stewart blogged I would most likely read it everyday. Okay, even if he just typed out a grocery list of a complete stranger I would read it. Daily. Like, at 5pm.
- I have a few spare hours to kill before I watch Bond kill
- I actually enjoy writing but feel that my attention span won't allow me to compose a novel
- I was told I should (and after this, I'm jumping off that bridge)
- People are annoyed with the yellow star that keeps showing up on my msn space each time I waste time there.
- I want to join the pretentious masses who tell you they 'blog'
I want to be a blogger but I have a sad feeling no one reads the blogs of random people. People read the blogs of individuals fighting off serious diseases, battling mother nature or discovering cures to diseases with really long names. Or famous people. Even I admit, if Jon Stewart blogged I would most likely read it everyday. Okay, even if he just typed out a grocery list of a complete stranger I would read it. Daily. Like, at 5pm.
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