Blank Space and a Blankie

First, I have to apologize to all five of my followers for not having posted since December. I am very consistent at keeping my journal; I don't know why keeping a blog is so hard. It's so much easier to type out a word than it is to write it neatly. In fact the only reason I'm posting at all has to do with my journals.

I was reading through my old ones and found an entry that I wanted to post about on Facebook. I was going to update my status in like a one sentence story about the entry, but I ended up with, like, three paragraphs. I never finished composing the status update, because I sort of decided that if I really wanted to post it, I should just post it as a note.

And then I remembered that I have a blog!

I'm not ashamed of the fact that I still keep a security blankie from when I was about two. I brought it with my when I spent that month at Northwestern, and I brought it with me to Italy a when I went over winter break.

I remember being nervous about going to Northwestern. In particular I was concerned about my roommate. There was a little bit of "what if we don't get along" mixed in with my concern. But the main thing freaking me out was the very real possibility that she would make fun of me for having a blankie.

Let's take a short tangent. I accidentally left my blankie at the second hotel we stayed at in Italy. I think house keeping might have hidden it under my pillow or something. They did that the first night we were there. I was too tired to need it the night before we left, so I didn't bother looking for it. In the morning, as we were packing up to go, it wasn't in my direct line of sight. Now, it's ALWAYS in bed with me, so if it's not on the bed, it's been packed away. Those were the only two places it could possibly have been. So I left the hotel. It wasn't until that night, at the hotel in Florence, when I realized that it was missing.

First I panicked. Then I kind of almost got my shit together enough to go up to my teacher Jason's room and tell him I had left it and ask him for the number for the last hotel we stayed at. I called them and had to be all "mi scuzzi, Inglesia per favore" which I'm pretty sure isn't even entirely Italian. The guy who picked up the phone spoke English, so he was all "how can I help you?" and I was all "I-left-this-thing-in-room-A1-and-it's-very-important-and—" but then he was all "I can leave a note for the people to check tomorrow morning. No one's here right now. Call back between 10 am and 9 pm. Bye."

So then I cried.

The next morning I called again. They said they had found it and they would mail it back to me. I just had to send them an email with my shipping address. I did that with my friend Sam's iPhone while we were at an Italian night club. Then I spent the rest of the trip completely content and not worried at all because my blankie would be waiting for me when I got home.

It wasn't. What was waiting for me was an email asking for more information, clarifying the shipping address I had given or something. I gave them the information they needed, then sat back to wait again, confident that I would have my blankie by the end of the week. The next day though, I got another email with more questions. Something like "It'll cost €35 to ship it home, is that okay? We'll ship it when you respond" and I was like "YES GODDAMNIT GIVE ME MY BLANKIE BACK."

So finally about a week later we got a call from FedEx that was like "We have a shipment scheduled for delivery before 10:30 am tomorrow. Be home!" and I was like "School" and my parents were like "Work" and my sister was like "DO NOT FEAR SISTER-FRIEND, FOR I WILL SAVE YOUR BLANKIE FROM THE CLUTCHES OF THE EVIL FEDEX MONSTER!" and I was like "rad" and went to sleep.

I texted my sister at lunch time the next day, around 11:30 am, asking if my blankie had showed up yet. She was all "FedEx is holding it hostage. I was in the shower when they tried to deliver it. Oops."

I got home and found the slip of paper they had left on the door. There was an x next to "shipper requires signature". I was all "why?" but signed it anyway and stuck it back on the door so that even if my sister failed me again the next day (which she did--she went grocery shopping before it showed up) they would leave the damn package on the porch because I had released them from all liability with a magical scribble of blue or black ink.

Also I kidnapped my sister's teddy bear, Mr. Fuzzles, so that she would have incentive to not fluck everything up again.

I spent all of today in a panic, like "what if they don't find the note and they can't leave the package and instead they decide to incinerate it" and "what if the hotel shipped the wrong thing" and all kinds of crazy stuff. My friends were all "bro you okay" and I was all "I AM BE CRY" and they were all "YOUR POOR BLANKIE".

That was a really long tangent, I'm so sorry. All I really wanted to say was how completely comfortable I was carrying Mr. Fuzzles around all day. People were always like "aw he's so cute" and I would tell them that he's a hostage because I left my baby blankie in Italy and it's my sister's fault that I don't have it yet, and then they'd be all "your AWFUL sister!"

The point is, I love my school. Remember how scared I was about my roommate finding out about my blankie? I didn't have that feeling for anyone in the school, not even the Analysis student teacher, Chris, who hasn't been at the school long enough to know what's up. I'm glad that I can trust the people at my school with my blankie deal.

By the way I have my blankie back now. I'm going to sleep so well tonight.

Also my roommate was totally cool about my blankie. I'm pretty sure she said it was cute.

I'll just pretend I didn't see that...

So, although hipsters roll their eyes at me when I tell them, I am indeed a member of HT +1, Hot Topic's rewards club. It doesn't really do too much for me, actually. It used to be that whenever you earned 30,000 points you get 15% off your next purchase, but now that purchase has to be made within the next 30 days, or it expires, and I don't shop there often enough for that to be useful. Really the only thing that I get out of it is an email sometimes, notifying me of a sale that only members will have access to for the first two days, or something.

Well, back to that 15% off thing. I just got an email that looked like this:


My first reaction was "wow, cool, they must have given me 15% off for Christmas, or something". Then my phone rang. It was my mom, telling me she was on the way home from the mall.

It didn't take long for me to put two and two together. I know there's a Hot Topic in the mall, and I have a few items from Hot Topic on my Christmas list.

I quickly deleted the email, but now I'm curious.

If I log onto Hot Topic, will it tell me what I bought to earn me the 15% off? Just thinking about that makes me so tempted to check.

Maybe I'll just change my password to ain;fbaev;iua. Then I'll never be able to log in again.

Or at least not until I call customer services (after Christmas) and explain to them the situation. But I'm afraid I'll get laughed at if I do that... I guess I'm just going to have to practice some self-restraint for six days...

Dark Matter Is Blowing My Mind!

I'm doing this Physics project where I research an astrological topic and then make a Wiki about it. Well my partner and I chose Dark Matter.

Oops.

Let's see if I can explain.

First, we can tell that galaxies are moving because of something called the Doppler Shift. When light moves toward you, it turns blue (because the light waves scrunch together). When light moves away from you, it turns red (because the light waves stretch out). How much the color shift to red or to blue can tell us how fast the light is moving.

When we look at galaxies, one side is blue and the other is red. That is how we know that galaxies rotate. But when we look closer, we notice something weird. The galaxies appear to be moving much faster than they should be able to given their perceived mass. See, the individual stars are moving so fast that they should be ripping the galaxy apart because they're so light.

But that's not happening.

Right now, the best explanation we have is dark matter. There's something surrounding these galaxies.

Something heavy.

Something invisible.

Something that allows them to move four hundred times faster than they should move on their own.

I don't think I'm going to fall asleep tonight.

Bored.

Let's see how many times I can type "bored" in the next ten minutes.

Bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored bored man I am so bored of typing bored.

Ha ha the teacher is yelling at two other students for not paying attention. And she's not even looking at me. Bahaha. She loves me.

Bored. Bored. Bored. Bored. Bored. Bored.

Wow.

Why would frozen dinners be appealing to feminist housewives? "Here, since you don't agree with staying home all day and cooking, here's an easier way for you to cook!"

Like, what? No thanks, I'm'a go save the world kthxbye.

I can't even pay attention to this video anymore.

Life Lesson:

Grandpa: Do you know why Americans are so fat?

Cousin: Because food is so available. We can go to McDonald's and get something crappy to eat for a dollar and—

Grandpa: It's because no one bothers to put their shopping carts back in the cart corral.

boredboredboredboredboredboredboredboredboredbored

Gaaaawd, I hate it when people are all "No families ever sit down and eat dinner together anymore." I'm like "STFU, I eat dinner with my family every night."

Also, we cook REAL food. I think the only time I eat at Wendy's is when I happen to be out shopping or something with my dad and we're hungry and too busy to go home for lunch. We get a burger at Wendy's. And after we eat it we both swear we're not going to touch fast food again for a LOOOONG time, because we just feel sick. Bleh fast food is GROSS.

Bored.

"454545" said Ian.

He's bored, too.

How many of my five followers are still reading this? You, Nicole? I know you're not. You're just going to scroll to the bottom and comment "Wow you are so funny look at me commenting on your blog and upping your popularity! You should do the same for MYYYYY BLOG!" Well, post more, Nicole!

Oh, show's over. Bye!

Morph Hamsterball

There's this video game out there called Metroid Prime. I don't know how popular it is, so if none of you have heard of it, I'm sorry. On the other hand if everyone's heard of it, cool! I'm trying not to sound too hipster right now.

"There's this great game but you've probably never heard of it. It's called Metroid Prime. But the original game was way better than 'The Original'." I'm just making that up.

Anyway.

From what I've seen of the game it's pretty cool. I myself am awful at video games. I've only ever finished Aladdin's Math Quest.

My point is, I've only seen a little bit of Metroid Prime actually played out. From that little bit I've gathered that you're this badass chick named Samus who's got to go around shooting aliens with her arm-that's-actually-a-gun oh also PS your arm-gun can unlock some doors oh also PPS you're a contortionist.

Yeah...

You've got the super duper outer space suit that's got all kinds of visors and guns and it even lets you squeeze your whole body into this tiny little ball.

I estimated the scale here, but this is about how it looks in the game.

That's called the Morph Ball. It's somehow got Samus inside of it, and it can roll around and it can change direction and stop and basically looks like a little gold hamsterball.

Which brings me to my next point!

I really really really want to paint my hamsterball like the Morph Ball and put Bernadette inside of it and then laugh.

I do.

What Do I Do With $40?

I could save it, get $30 more, and bleach my hair again...

Con, it almost always looks dumb at first:

Pro: You're irresistible when it grows out:

...Um...

Or I could buy some colored contacts. Blue or green.

So actually this whole post was an excuse to play with Photoshop.

PS Those contacts last about two weeks... So...

Hipsters Aren't All Bad!!

I just read a very seething blog post about how much the author hates hipsters. (Here, if you want to read it: The Irony of the Ironic: Hipsters Don't Understand Irony)

I didn't want to post a comment, because then I'd end up in a troll war and ugh, I hate the internet... But I now feel like sharing my opinion.

Which is this:

Hipsters search out media that most people have not heard of.

That's it. They're kind of like dumpster divers, only with music, books, and movies.

A lot of people would go on to say that, once they find this obscure band/author/director they insist that he/she is the greatest at his/her craft, and anyone who thinks otherwise is dumb.

Granted, SOME hipsters take it to that extent:

"You like Green Day? You're such a corporate tool."

"The Beatles didn't re-define music NEARLY as much as the Pixies did."

"Oh 'Fall Out Boy'." (Yes, he made quotation marks with his fingers.)

"Oh 'The Offspring'." (Yes, it was the same guy, and yes, he did the fingers thing again.)

But I've got my own personal hipster who's basically the coolest guy I've ever met.

I juggles, he unicycles, he break-dances, his glasses have one square lens and one circular one, he wears mismatched arm warmers, knee-high socks, and kicks, and he slack-lines (like tightrope walking, only for hipsters).

So, my point, try to avoid hating hipsters—or really anything—categorically, because there's almost always an exception to the rule.