Ants in My Pants…

They are everywhere! Everywhere I look there are ants. Open my book to do some homework and what should be there to great me, my friend Mr. Rogers. Mr. Rogers is extremely friend. He always has a nice ant smile when I see him, but Mr. Rogers’ growing family is starting to trouble me. Why? Well, I will let you in on a little secret…Mr. Rogers’ nephew is dating Mrs. Fireant’s daughter and is also dating Mr. Wiggles’ daughter too…at the same time. ::Gasp:: This has resulted in a soap ant-opera to say the least. Everyone is starting to uncover each others secrets and this has led to numerous ants abandoning their native home in search of grander places with less drama. The new hotspot appears to be on my desk. I suppose the amenities are good. Computer, music, usually a water bottle or two (a.k.a. a swimming pool), a little bouncy ball that results in hours of entertainment. However, I think the real enticement to my desk is the twirling demon, but I’ve had to start regulating the hours of operation for the twirling demon because it was being severely abused. Little Patsy was found living on the twirling demon, I caught her in the act of…nevermind. I won’t torture you with the images. So I appeal to the ants, please move to another location; maybe my roommates side of the room. I’m sure she won’t mind.

In other news the post office closes at four. For those of you who thought maybe it didn’t close until 4:30 you are wrong. The big CLOSED sign on the window informed me of this whole closing time thing. They really should be clearer about this, maybe use a big red sign instead of a green one. I equate green with go which would imply open, not closed. Thus, I think the sign should be changed to red. It makes sense.

I have this one spot in my room that hates posters. How do I know this? The wall has told me on numerous occasions. Now, before you all start to think I’m going crazy, the wall doesn’t actually talk but the signals it gives off are easy to interpret. Poster one was placed in the “spot” and poster one fell down on almost everyday. For the last 3 months of last semester, poster one was help up by the Christmas lights and not the wall. Enter poster 2. Poster one was ceremoniously taken down (tear, tear) and in its place poster 2. It has been 2 weeks since poster 2 was placed in the “spot” and how has poster 2 faired. Not good. Poster 2 has suffered the same fate as poster 1. It is now being held up by the Christmas lights. “I’m sorry Mr. Wall, do you not like my posters. I will gladly get you one that you enjoy if you promise to allow it to stay up longer than a day. Do we have an agreement?” I’m still waiting for a response…

I love grass. I know I have mentioned this before but I feel the need to reiterate my love affair with grass. I love green grass that is not too thick, but not too thin either. There is this perfect consistence that brings a joy that is beyond words. When you step on it you get two glorious sensations, a slight sinking feeling and yet you get the accompanying spring shortly after. It’s like walking on cushioned air. Ahhh, I love grass. Odd keebler, I will get to my point because I actually do have one. I want to grow a little grass garden in my room. I’ve mentioned this to Helen and of course she reminded me of Mrs. Mums. Mrs. Mums was a plant I had last semester. Mrs. Mums was a little neglected, so I forgot to water her for a few weeks, but in my defense Mrs. Mums wasn’t suppose to live through winter anyways. I just sped up her demise. But I fully assume all responsibility for her departure and have a new appreciation for plants. Thus, I feel that I am ready and able to take on a new plant of my own…hello Mr. Grass. I will water you everyday, and give you lots of sun, and most importantly give you all the love you could ever need. Mr. Grass will live a long and healthy life…I promise.


Breaking News:
-The wall has agreed to my compromise. We are negogiating the terms as we speak.
-Susie Fireant and Gigi Wiggles have just found out little Fred Rogers is seeing both of them….stay tuned for upcoming details.

I poured Spot remover on my dog. Now he's gone.

Hump Day

Wednesday has always been known as hump day for me. Once you get past Wednesday the rest of the week seems down hill…you’ve made if over the hump. Hump day could also refer to the day the camel grew its hump. Or it could refer to….never mind.

You know what frustrates me, at night when you are lying in bed and your pillow falls down. This really annoys me because my bed is so high up I can't just reach down and grab it....o no, that would be too easy. Instead, I have to get out of my comfy bed, under the warm covers, and bend all the way down to retrieve my pillow. Then I crawl back into bed and get frustrated because I've lost my comfy position and now have to get myself all readjusted again, which seems to take an eternity, for me at least. I need a pillow net or something, that way my pillow is blocked from falling to the ground...although I can see it causing me some trouble when I get up in the middle of the night...damn pillow net.

As many of you know I have an aversion to feet. I actually get really tense when I sense a foot coming within the designated safe distance zone, a half a meter or so. My heart starts beating faster and I focus solely on the movements of that hideous foot. Usually you will see me move away from this menacing foot, self-preservation at its best. I hate feet!

I also have this fear at night that I'm going to go to the bathroom and as I'm using the restroom a snake is going to just pop up in the toilet and bite me. This fear has gradually subsided as I've grown older, but there are still times when late night potty breaks cause me great distress. A thorough inspection of the toilet prior to using it is necessary. Even after this inspection, my fear is still present so I find that swiftness is the only way to go.

You know this blog was supposed to be about my favorite things and somehow it has turned into the things I hate. Yes, this is how my mind works on a regular basis. I have intentions to do one thing and by the end of it I have digressed into a completely different thing. If you're paddling upstream in a canoe and a wheel falls off, how many cookies fit in an igloo?

A day without sunshine is like night.

Fluffy Electrons

You know what I’ve realized today, I absolutely hate organic lab. I don’t mind the class but the lab is hell. After Tuesday is over the week improves ten-fold. How I wish I didn’t have organic lab…sighs.

“Hi, this is Papa Johns, did you just order a pizza.” “Ummm, no.” “Well is this Stetson Hall room 501.” “Yes it is, but I didn’t order a pizza, sorry.” “You’re name is not Ashley?” “NO, the last time I checked it was Serena.” “You didn’t order a pizza?” “No, I didn’t order a pizza!” *Click* Repeat this conversation thirty minutes later. Another one of my phone sagas. As the phone rings….

I have this weird obsession with pretzels and it all started last semester. I eat them everyday and whenever I run out it’s like I’ve lost a part of me. Where did my little pinkie go?

Spinach is the new word for stuff. Where did I get this tidbit of information? Well where else…my professor in organic lab today. Maybe lab isn’t all that bad; I mean I keep up to date on the new lingo of our time.

So I’ve just spent the last 3 minutes zoning off and do you know what awoke me from my dogmatic slumber? Snow in a can. Yes, I bought my snow in a can last November and I have yet to use it aside from the grass and the bathroom mirror that got sprayed in my excitement. I wonder if I should use it now or just wait until this Christmas? Decisions, Decisions.

You know what is really embarrassing? Falling up the stairs. I think it takes talent, a refined skill, to actually be able to fall up the stairs. It’s not something just anyone can do. You have to dedicate yourself to practicing the art of falling up stairs. I have now reached the black belt in falling up the stairs. Don’t mess with me…I’m the Stairmaster.

Dancing banana man makes me happy!

My very first Monday, yet the last Monday of the month

I had my very first official day of Monday classes. I woke up at the grand hour of 7 to study for my organic quiz and then began the adventure that shall forever be called….Monday. The day went smoothly enough, class at 9 and ten, work at 11 until 1, class at 1:30 followed by lab until 5:15 and class at 6 until 7:15. The only little hiccup in this great schedule of mine was the weather. See ecology lab consists of outdoor labs. So we are trekking through the forest, sort of like the crocodile hunter, only there are no crocodiles or snakes. Hmm, so really it’s not at all like the crocodile hunter, cranky. Anywhoo, we are out in the middle of the forest when it begins to sprinkle. Who doesn’t enjoy a little sprinkle? However, our little sprinkle soon turns into a downpour, sort of like the little Morton salt picture…when it rain, it pours. Anyway, we finally start to make our way back to our cars thirty minutes later. The rain magically stops once we reach the cars, go figure.

Do you know the muffin man?

I officially have the greatest twirl-o-chair in the world. I call it the Twirling Demon. The ease with which it twirls and swivels is absolutely mind boggling. There is no hindrance whatsoever, just pure, simple, unobstructed, free-moving twirling. This is the life.

I believe there needs to be more words with –age on the end. Wordage, grubbage, flowage…I could go on but I shall stop here. I think the –age adds something special.

You know, sometimes I wish I were a tapeworm because they just absorb all their food, no digestion and no annoying questions of what shall I eat today. Aside from the whole living inside the human digestive track, I think it might be a great way to live.

I fear that once people actually start to read my blog they will begin to realize how insane I am. Wait, nothing to worry about there…no one reads my blog.

“Hi, is Stephanie there.” “No, I haven’t seen her at all today.” “Do you know when she will be back?” The conversation I have had on the phone 3 times tonight, in less than 10 minutes. Maybe we will reach four before I’m done updating my glorious blog…one can only hope. Updates to follow.

Dawn has brought up an interesting point, when we say go suck an egg do we mean a hard-boiled egg or a raw egg? Another question, can you actually suck on an egg? I shall be performing experiments in the near future. Anyone who wishes to be a subject in the suck an egg experiment please feel free to contact me. No humans will be harmed in this experiment. Unfortunately, I cannot guarantee the safety of the eggs. Thank you and that is all.

Updates:
No phone calls have been received during the making of this blog.
I’ve consumed 7 chips with shredded cheese on them. They were very tasty by the way.
I’ve taken three rides on the Twirling Demon.

The dancing pink elephant.

You know what really gets to me, people who come storming down the hall. Our hall apparently holds two functions: 1) to get people to their rooms 2) It doubles as a practice for races. Need to learn to stay within the lines while running a race, I've got your answer. Just take a run down our hall...it only takes one run in with the wall to learn your lesson. Actually, to curb this annoying habit I've decided that whenever I hear the race begin down the hall I need to patiently stand by the door until that perfect moment comes where I can throw the door open and WHAM! I'm sure that would curtail the dancing pink elephants.

I think it is physically impossible for me to maintain any sort of order around my desk. I will clean it one day and 2 hours later it has returned to it's past state- organized clutter. See, I know where everything is, it just doesn't look pretty to the observer. Are looks really that important? I think not.

I've been fortunate enough this whole semester (two weeks)...I have yet to lose my id. Losing my id has sort of becoming something you expect to hear every few weeks or so. Me, "Guess what?" Random person, "You lost your id again." "How did you know?" So I am glad to inform everyone that I have not lost my id...yippeee. However, my id did take a spin in the wash the other day. In was in desperate need of a trip to the swirl-o-wheel; it's my id's favorite ride.

I'm so glad the pink elephant decided to dance for me, it's a rare pleasure to observe this great and astounding ritual. Almost as great as actually seeing a sea donkey....a.k.a. the donkey that lives by the sea. They are magical creatures~. Dirr.

Argggggg...I'm a pirate.

One of the assignments for my east and west spiritualities class was to go to a spiritualist service in Cassadaga. I had never actually been to Cassadaga so I thought it would be interesting to go and check things out especially since I've always sort of wanted to visit there anyways. So I dragged Helen along with me today, I was somewhat reluctant to go there alone...there is safety in numbers. We find the place easily enough but I start to get this eerie feeling. Anyway, we go inside and get a seat. I look through the hymn and realize they have a "Declaration of Principles" inside the front cover. I read through them and stumble across this one, "We affirm that communication with the so-called dead is a fact, scientifically proven by the phenomena of spiritualism." Yes, you read that right, a scientific fact. Now I'm a science major as you all know, so this little principle caught me a little off-guard. How in the world do you prove talking with the dead is a scientific fact...We haven't even proven evolution as a scientific fact, it's still a theory as are most things in the realm of science. I wish this were the only disturbing thing we encountered in Cassadaga.

The service began with a hymn, the lighting of some candles (there were candles all over the place), and the reading of the Declaration of principles and the prayer for spiritual healing to which everyone in the service, except for Helen and I, read aloud. It was almost like some sort of cult chant of something to that effect. It was freaky. Then begins the healing/meditation to which were asked to envision becoming the color yellow. After what seemed like an eternity, we were aloud to open our eyes and stop being the color yellow. A speak then proceeded to tell us that we are all made of energy and vibrations and that we give off different thoughts, hatred, happiness, etc. Also, that whatever energy we give off will eventually come back to us so we must be careful what we send out into the world. This was followed by the speaker stating that awhile back he got pneumonia and the reason he got pneumonia, listen to this kids, because he thought that he was going to get it and didn't ward off those thoughts. He said the same thing about people who get cancer. They think about getting cancer, and eventually they get it because they've thought about it so much. Yes, I wanted to leave after this statement but we stayed. The last little bit of the service was where the speaker provided psychic readings to people in the congregation. The main thing I noticed about all of these so-called readings was that they were so vague, they could have applied to anyone. Anyway, that was a little rundown of our experience in Cassadaga. I still have to attend a Pentecostal service, any takers?

Odd keebler, I’ve decided to venture into the great land of blogs. You know whenever I hear the word blog I immediately think of the blob. Watch out, the blog is coming for you. It will eat you one word at a time. It will clog your mind with useless ramblings and eventually you will become as useless as a log. Actually, a log really isn’t that useless when you think about it. It can be used for a number of things. I think I will start a fire, let me go grab a log. O, I need to practice for my log-rolling contest, let me go find a log. I could really use some zzzzzzz’s, I will go saw a log. See, a log has many uses.

Today Helen and I went to the Daytona mall in search of those fizzy bath ball thingy’s. So we go into this store called bath junkie, or something to that effect. We are immediately greeted by a lady who works in the store. The lady asks us if we have been here before and we both reply that we have not. “O, well we make everything here ourselves using our own natural products. As soon as I get done with this lady I will do your hands.” With this statement I look at her and give her this look of utter confusion and promptly walk out of the store. I guess it could have been worse, she could have said I will do your feet.

Each time I go into my fridge I am greeted with jars of baby food. I still cannot believe my roommate eats baby food. Am I the only one who thinks this is a little peculiar, or is this the new thing? Maybe it’s some new diet craze. The Gerber Diet: Become a baby once again.

Have I mentioned how much I love green grass? The smell of freshly cut grass…nothing better!