Tag Archives: college

Skiing: My Attempt to Fall Down a Mountain in Style

Hey Internet. I’ve recently come to the conclusion that my sense of self-preservation is completely haywire. Why, you ask? Well, because recently I went skiing for the first time.

Now, skiing is fun. Don’t get me wrong. But as far as activities with low risk of injury go, you’d best look somewhere else. A sewing bee, for example. (On second thought, maybe not. Needles are stabby.) In fact, if there’s anything that I took from this whole experience, it’s that it’s best to learn to ski while you’re a kid. This bit of wisdom is of course garnered from the fact that 6 year-olds were whizzing past me on the slopes while I floundered about like a beached whale.

My skiing experience got off to a rollicking start when, less than 5 minutes after I first strapped skis to my feet, I went sliding down a slight incline straight into an old man. Well, I didn’t hit him, but I did run over his snowboard a little (he wasn’t riding it at the time). He helped me up, and I somehow made it to the bunny slope, thanks in large part to a couple of more experienced skiers who were with my group on the ski trip.

Once I was off the ski lift (a miracle in itself) I proceeded to fall down a lot. As I made my slow and laborious way down the bunny slope, this time under the patient tutelage of another couple of people from my group. I was about a quarter of the way down, laying in the snow on my side because I had fallen (again) and was having a time of it trying to figure out how to get up, when another novice skier from my group went streaking past me at top speed. “I don’t know how to stoooooopppppp!” she cried as she sped, completely out of control, to her certain doom. Fortunately(?) before she ran into a house or off a cliff, she completely wiped out near the bottom of the slope, losing both skis, both poles, and her hat, although thankfully no limbs.

From my position near the top of the slope, I whimpered softly. However, this was basically the low point of my learning-to-ski experience. Well, until that afternoon, when my friend convinced me it would be a good idea to try a couple of blues. Exhausted by the ordeal of the morning, I failed miserably. I mean, I eventually got down the mountain. But it took all afternoon and what little dignity I still possessed.

That morning, though, I eventually figured out how to stand up after falling down on skis. As anyone who skis can tell you, this is no small feat. I followed this achievement by figuring out how to actually ski, and I got down the bunny slope a couple of times without falling… very much.

The second day out, I found my equilibrium and went down some of the normal non-bunny greens. I didn’t even fall! Well, a few times. But still.

Next time (assuming I get to go skiing again at some point in my life) I’ll be skiing blues. DUN DUN DUNN.

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Honest Work and Burning Plastic

“Hey there Internet. I would apologize for my lack of posting, but I have a pretty good excuse. You see, since it’s finals and all, I thought that this would be the perfect time to get a job. My logic is impeccable. Also, a combination of stress and being sick of campus food has dramatically decreased my food intake. I’m pretty much running on fumes at the moment.”

The above was written several days ago while I was still at college. Now I have returned home, to a magical land where there’s food in the pantry and the heating works. Actually, I’ll be here until mid-January, so I’ll probably be going bonkers by the time I’ve got to return to school. But until then, it’s good to be home. Plus, I got that “A” in College Algebra. Ha! Permission to laugh and point revoked.

But let me tell you about my new job.

So after a semester at college, my savings account was running too low for comfort. I knew there were only two solutions. But the first one was illegal and involved armed robbery, so I went with solution number 2: get a job. And just my luck, as I was walking through the Student Union one fine November day, I happened to notice a sign outside the campus bookstore. The very best kind of sign for a bum like me. A “hiring” sign.

So I applied. Two weeks later, I was in the library working desperately to finish a huge project for my writing class (I got it done in time, by the way. And the fact that I got an “A” in that class as well did nothing to deter future procrastination. Oh well.) when, of course, my phone rang. Because I’m a loose cannon, I ignored the social conventions of quiet in the library and had as quiet a conversation as possible with the woman on the other end of the line. I would have gone in the stairwell, but it smelled like asbestos and I was kind of afraid the door would lock behind me, leaving me trapped there forever.

Anyway, the phone call was to inform me that I’d gotten the job. Yay for gainful employment!

I showed up the first day to discover that I’d taken a job at Book-stacking store. I have never known the alphabet so well as I do now. That happens when you alphabetize approximately 17,000 books. But I won’t complain, because they are paying me.

Technically I’m supposed to be a cashier, but it wasn’t until day 4 that I actually got to perform cashier-like duties. On day 2, I had to shrink-wrap.

Let me tell you, Internet, that you should really appreciate shrink wrapping. Because the thin sheets of plastic you so carelessly fling aside were probably put in place by me, or someone like me, in the backroom of some store or factory, desperately trying to get two sheets of plastic to melt together in exactly the right way.

After a couple of hours, this song got stuck in my head. See all those stacks of paper in the picture below? Yeah. I had to shrink wrap all of them.

Don’t get me wrong- I’m really grateful for the job. Turns out you need money to live- who’d have thunk it? And for the most part I managed to stave off the rats. I just wish the plastic hadn’t smoked as I melted it. Cancer, here I come!

P.S. Some changes to the look of this blog will be coming in the next few days, so don’t freak out if it suddenly looks completely different.

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I’ll Never Be a Paleontologist

Internet, I think I’m going downhill. Pretty sad, since I’m only a college freshman. But if my calculations are correct I reached my height around the age of 3.

I’ve mentioned before on this blog that I’m currently double majoring in English and Spanish. But what I’ve never told you is that that was not my original plan at all. No, I’m sorry to say that I am not fulfilling my childhood dreams.

Kids have a lot of great aspirations when they’re little. Some want to be firefighters, princesses, or vets. Some wants to be pickles. Some want to develop magical powers. I wanted to be a paleontologist.

As my mother will attest, I really liked books when I was little. She probably still has paper cuts from reading to me. But in between the Bernstein Bears and Dr. Seuss, I wanted her to read me dinosaur books. In fact, I probably knew more types of dinosaurs at age 3 than I do now (hence my decline). This is also why, at the age of 3, I knew what the word “paleontologist” meant.

So, as a little kid, I was all set to devote my life to dinosaurs. What happened, you ask? Well, let us examine a chain of events.

As I grew in age, and presumably wisdom, I decided that I liked the ocean and would therefore be a marine biologist. I even went so far as to explore which colleges had good programs in that field, though as I was still a preteen that was analogous to picking where I wanted my wedding to be as a five year-old. (Though as I’m now old enough to make that decision, it’s going to be in a church. I won’t have any of this beach nonsense.)

Then, I discovered House M.D. which got me thinking, and eventually I decided I wanted to be a doctor, which lasted through much of high school until I realized that I was no great talent at Chemistry. Not bad, necessarily, but certainly not great. That put rather a damper on my plans, considering the amount of chemistry required in college for those who are pre-med.

So then I fell to writing, which led to my current 5-year plan.

 

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We Interrupt Your Regularly Scheduled Blogging…

…To announce that finals start soon! Aaaahhhhhh!

You can’t see, but I’m running around in circles with my arms over my head. And still managing to type. Yep.

Ok, things aren’t actually that bad. In truth, I’m not that worried about finals. I’m pretty prepared, assuming I study a reasonable amount. Unfortunately, a side effect of finals starting soon is that everything in the world is due. Or maybe it’s just several things.

The bottom line is, I’m getting positively slammed with homework, meaning that I may need to slow down a bit on the blogging for the next couple of weeks. I know you’re sad.

But look! Click here, here, or possibly here to read an article I wrote for Sparknotes a while ago explaining a survival strategy for just such a situation (and you thought I had contained my lunacy to this blog… well THINK AGAIN). So that basically makes me an authority on doing large amounts of homework, right? Right.

Anyway, it’s nothing I can’t handle. I’m just busy.

I’ll see you soon, Internet. Possibly not on Wednesday. But soon.

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Happy Thanksgiving!

Hey, Internet. Well, it’s Thanksgiving tomorrow, and I’m home from college for the first time since Fall Break. And I didn’t even get lost on the way home this time. Hurray!

Anyway, I’m kind of sick blah blah blah excuses. This is a really short post. I drew you a turkey.

Happy Thanksgiving, Internet. I’ll be back Friday with all sorts of nonsense, I’m sure.

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In a Shocking Turn of Events, I am Now Even Nerdier

Hey there Internet. Before I start in on all the reasons I am a nerd, let me first address the issues of ads. It has recently come to my attention that there are ads on my blog. (I can’t see them when I’m logged in, which is why it only recently came to my attention.) Let me tell you that I hate these ads and all they stand for, and am not making a cent off of them being there. However, it appears that the only way for me to get rid of them is to feed $99 to the WordPress monster, which is not happening. I’m a poor college student.

So, on that front, it seems we have reached an impasse.

Anyway, if it wasn’t already abundantly clear, I am quite nerdy. I like Star Wars, I read the Lord of the Rings Books, and I will fight you to the death if you say anything bad about Harry Potter. Online communities? I haz them. Try nerdfighters and sparklers on for size. Also, I can name the six types of quarks. I can’t do math, but I find particle physics fascinating. (To clarify, I’m not a creepy nerd who sits in their room all day and fashions tiny elf figurines. I have friends.) (Not that I have anything against you if you fashion tiny elf figurines.) Oh, and did I mention Doctor Who? I could go on.

In light of all this, it should come as no surprise to you that I recently found myself in a restaurant that sells fried chicken, playing 3 man chess. In my defense, the game is not mine.

I haven’t played chess in years, though I did have a brief stint on a chess club when I was about 7. However, I did remember how to play. You know how people spend years mastering chess, and honing their strategies, and all that? Well with 3 man chess all those skills are o’erthrown. Also, a whole new element of mistrust is thrown in with the possibility that players can form alliances. It was actually pretty fun, although we didn’t have time to finish the game.

Anyway, I’ll leave you to ruminate on this new information about me. See you Monday, Internet.

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My Journey to the Land of Coffee

Well hello there Internet. I hope you’re doing well. I’m ok. I’ve been trying to become accustomed to the taste of coffee. This is probably not a very good idea in the grand scheme of things, but I figure before college is over I’m bound to have pulled an all-nighter (or ten) and when that time comes I want to have something to keep me awake. Energy drinks scare me and sodas don’t work.

Unfortunately, I hate the taste of coffee. It’s bitter and weird, and I’m pretty sure bitterness is an indicator of poison. Of course, I don’t know what’s good for me, so I’ve been getting a variety of flavored coffee-type drinks in the hope that large amounts of cream and various sugary syrups will drown the taste. It’s worked… sort of. They’re getting more bearable, at any rate. Of course I can’t stand to swallow more than a molecule at a time, which leads to even very small drinks getting cold halfway through.

This afternoon, I purchased a caramel latte from a place in the Student Union (thank goodness for meal plans). I took it with me to the library, where I’ve been studying lately as it is far easier to get work done here than in my dorm room. The drink itself was only about 8 ounces, but I only managed to down half of it before it went cold. Of course, the fact that for some reason they are STILL RUNNING THE AIR CONDITIONING up here didn’t help matters. It’s sitting next to my computer at the moment, staring at me. It’s not my fault, caramel latte! You should have been more delicious!

I mean, it was ok. But it’s no hot chocolate.

Eventually, I hope to be able to drink my coffee black, like some sort of serious writer-type, or embittered businesswoman/divorcée . I don’t see that happening in the near future, though. Especially as I currently have a headache, which I’ve chosen to irrationally attribute to my latte. That’s not helping matters.

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