This was too great to not commit to a blog.



So, on Friday I was driving home from GVSU, turning right onto 36th from Filmore. And I see this little deer....no wait, it's not a deer....yes, it's a goat.



It was this sandy-colored little goat, just kicking around in a cornfield in the middle of nowhere; no farm houses close by. I drive on, and suddenly I remember that right there at the intersection of 36th and Filmore was a sign claiming "Lost Goat!" So I drove all the way back to school, see that the goat is still there, get the number and call it.

And of course, I get the dude's voicemail. And I don't even know if I got the right number because he didn't say anything like, "If you're calling about the goat..."

So, the best part is, if I dialed wrong or got connected wrong due to roaming and area codes and all that, then some dude has my number and me, saying, "Yeah, I think your goat is wandering around in this cornfield, you'd better head out here quick!"

I did park and walk along the road, too. I didn't "baa" at the goat, but I did talk to it. I said, "What are you doing here, goat? Go home! There's nothing here for you! That corn is dead."

I would gone to pet it, but there's always that gripping fear of being dropped kicked. By a goat.

And that, kids, is my lost goat story.

For those of you from EK that don't know, I'm seeing Aaron Kiesel; Ryan's older brother.

Anyways, his psychotic ex-girlfriend myspace-messages me with "You can't trust him, he hangs out with me all the time, he's an ass, he acts like a child blah blah blah:" this really nasty email. We find out later that her exact words were "Payback's a bitch," that less than half of it was true, and that she did it to spite him and didn't care if she hurt me, whom she had never even met.

So, I write back, saying- in a few choice words- Fuck off, leave me alone you slut- and I guess I made her cry (awesome!).

But get this: Aaron got angry with me for making her cry.


......is there some reason that men suck? What the hell did *I* do wrong here?

And the worst part is, I canceled plans to hang with April and Crystal at Taps to get this all sorted out.

OK, I know I have been neglecting all my old internet haunts as of late, but I've been bullied intoa enw one: the dreaded, dreaded myspace.

If you lovers out there have an account, my name there is _natallica_

I'd post the link but it hasn't been working. Stupid myspace. See what I mean?

Family-Related Bitching
Stephanie and Mom had a huge blow out yesterday, over various things. One; Steph doesn't help around the house. Two, she's now calling Devon (the guy she cheated on Mark with two years ago) her boyfriend. He hooked back up with her a week before he left to South Korea for two years (army). Mom hates Devon. So, Steph ran out and rented a two-bedroom apartment she could've easily afforded, and told me I could crash in the second bedroom anytime I wanted. Then, Dad talked her out of it. Stupid tease. I wanted that bedroom, dammit!

School-Related Moaning
I am failing Greek 202. The prof is working with me every Friday to help me. Why am I failing Greek, you might ask? Because I failed the midterm. I translated all five assigned passages, and bombed #2 and #3. I thought, "Fuck it, leave 'em blank, get outta here." Instead, I tried to finish them, thinking I'd scrape a few points. Then I get it back and he says "You were supposed to pick three of the five passages, and because you did all five I just went with the first three." And #1, #4, and #5 were fine. I would've gotten an 82%. The lesson? When your brain says "Bail, stupid!" just go with it.

Tomorrow, I have a twenty minute presentation on Carl Jung, to do in front of the Chair of the Classics Department. And I didn't find the book I was supposed to present from. And I haven't started reading the other book he gave me. And I have no intention of starting.



Car-Related Issues
First, I got my first-ever civil infraction. I "yielded" at a stop sign. In a deserted parking lot. On campus. Ninety dollars.

Then, I got into my first accident. Two cars crashed into each other and I crashed into them, so I like to think it wasn't my fault.

I'd bitch more, but I don't wanna.

...so I've been sitting in the Classics library (where my Capstone is taking place) and so far only two, much older men are sitting in the room, discussing their Latin 402 class and agree that there are no books for this class, and the prof hasn't come in yet and I'm so ungodly nervous that I stepped out in the hallway for a few.

Man, why am I so nervous about this class?

So, both Brian's and the bookstore do not list books for Levitan's capstone class, which I have in mere hours. The e-reserve on the GVSU library site has naught, and there is no Blackboard page.

So, I am basically going to show up to my three-hour long capstone empty-handed. And scares the ever-lovin'
crap outta me.

In other news, man-alive, was the hour of Scrubs-goodness last night terrific!

OK, so...who rang in the New Year like a stupid bitch?

::jabs thumbs at own chest::

*This girl*


Anyways, before the suckfest that was New Year's, I got highlites in my hair (first dye job ever for me), work was fine, and my GPA was a 3.0 this semester, bringing my cumulative down to a 3.197 and my worst class was easily Greek (B-).

Man, have I mentioned that I feel like a shitty, crappity, terrible, thoughtless, whorish, hypocritical, stupid, moronic, so frustrated with myself that I want to puke type of embarrassment?

Classes....are over, dudes and gentleladies.


I have exams this coming up week and then I have a good two...two and half weeks before the panic sets in over my capstone.

I plan on remedying this by getting really, really fucked up next week.

Oh yeah. It's immature. I don't care.

You know what sucks? Writing papers. Three of them. Due within a week of each other.

So, my old Greek prof asked for help with a mythology workshop for elementary kids and I volunteered. Over a week ago.

She emails me today with what needs to be done for tomorrow and yeah, it's a hefty load.

Christ, already! It's the Senior Classics League all over again! I volunteered for that, and for three weeks went up to them asking, "What should I do to prepare?" and nothing. On the day itself, we were told, "You're going to put on a skit. Gather over here for five minutes and think one up."

It's amazing how incredibly unorganized my entire frickin' department is. I would have asked this prof earlier but she is on sabbatical.

Have I mentioned that I really, truly, entirely, all-encompassingly...hate, loathe, despise, want to murder, spit nails when I think of him, and all-around just want to punch in the throat JJ Abrams?


Lost Season One was art. Pure art.

Lost Season Two? Well, the definition of art is anything man-made that is intended to evoke emotion. I just think Abrams was aiming at an emotion other than total and utter rage and fury.

I can seriously spit nails right now.

I just stumbled upon the spoiler for who dies this week on Lost, and I don't like it! :(

Skippy, skippy, skippy. You know how I'm feeling right now? Pretty damn skippy. I feel I could skip the rest of the whole day away. Perhaps also I'll blow off work, although I think my bosses might get mad at me if I skieve away and also I should probably go in and tell the boys that I'm not going to Easttown tonight because I just don't feel like it.


....History class? What history class?

Anyways, I'm supposed to get my Greek exam back at noon and I have a paper to write for Bergman's the Twilight of American Culture for tomorrow.

School aside, I had an alright weekend. Work sucked but that's to be expected. April and I went to see Jarhead on Friday night and it was damn good.

Here is the happy update.

Halloween was a blast! I went to Billy's in Easttown with the old East Kentwood crowd: April, Jessica, Crystal and Chana. Seeing as how they were all dressed up and I had a small mask on, I went as a poor college girl who couldn't afford proper costume.

Today I turned in a paper for HST 345. It wasn't good, but at least it's done. I have one paper for LIB 343 and then a few weeks off before my GRE 201 and HST 350 papers are due in December. The past two weeks have been HELL for me in terms of homework, so the breather is much appreciated. Which of course means I'm becoming restless.

I am tired of being a townie, and am yearning for another road trip, the likes of which I haven't taken since August. I was meant to go to Traverse City with Steph on October, and then Kalamazoo, but lack of funds prevented both these trips.

I can't remember the last time I wasn't either in Kentwood, Allendale, Easttown or Downtown. I need to get out. If any of you are planning road trips, I totally want to jack in on that.

In other news, man I can't wait until one pm today when I get to meet my seester at Outback for a yummy yummy steak!

Oh God! I just came from HST 345 where we had a discussion between Sparta and Athens. Or rather, we were meant have to have a discussion on Sparta and Athens, but instead the Bible-thumpers of the group just rambled on and on about the super-evil ass-ramming that went on between the soldiers of Sparta.

OK. These were men who were separated from women their entire lives. It's not crazy to think that they'd find a companion. Human beings NEED companions. That's how we function. And it's also not crazy that they might fall in love, especially considering ALL THEY KNEW WAS EACH OTHER!

Jesus Tap-Dancing Christ! Do NOT compare this to the Holocaust! Greek men did not go around thinking, "Hmm, I wonder who I can rape and traumatize today?" This was just life! Intention, people! It's all about intention! You keep going on about morals and then fail to realize that this was not an act of rape, but of LOVE!

And do NOT bring up pedophilia. The notion of pedophilia is a modern term, and you need to stop thinking so ethnocentrically. Sure, a lot of the boys involved in the army love-fest were 15, but young GIRLS were married off at 13! With no compassion! With the idea of "I'm gonna ram you so you have my baby!" not "I love you!"

GOD! I really just can't stand today's uber-Christians that go around putting their own "moral codes" on everything! It was just sex, people! The fact that it happened between two men does NOT give you grounds to dismiss one of the greatest civilization the world has ever known!

I'll say it again, JESUS TAP-DANCING CHRIST!!!

Hey, so, um...remember that annotated bib due tomorrah? Yeah, still haven't started on it yet. I have this intense fear of work, you see.

And I'm bummed because last night SUCKED. I never got into the Bob because Lacey refused to wait in line (not her fault, my fault, I should've put my foot down) and as a result Steph is pissed at me for not meeting up with her.

But the worst part is as soon as I step in my house (very early, I might add), April calls me in a drunken stupor; "Hey! Party! And I [slurred speech] condoms! Condoms and bubbles everywhere!"

She was apparently at a party with a bubble machine and a pinata full of condoms. And I missed it.


Fuck.

So, I signed up for FaceBook. So, if you're on there, fired me, baby.

I have so much damn work to do right now. I have a presentation to do tomorrow on Bergman's The Twilight of American Culture. On Monday, I have a Greek Exam and an annotated bib due for HST 350. I have a paper on Daoism due next Friday, another paper on Berman on the 8th, and a Plato paper to consider. So of course I'm blowing it all off to watch South Park right now. It makes perfect sense if you think about it.

In related news, I just got my haircuts; bangs a-plenty.

Staples is in hell right now.

Last week, a manager from another store got into a terrible car accident; she'll be out of work for about a year. We're all really bummed for her and are trying to fill the schedule for her store.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, two nights ago, Scottie (who only just started talking to me again about a week ago) got into an equally terrible car crash. He wasn't driving but everyone in the car was drunk, he was in the passenger seat without a seatbelt and hit his head against the dash. He will need reconstructive surgery as his face is apparently "caved in." Poor dumbass.

Added to which, Melanie's husband just got transferred to Texas, she'll be gone next week.

And I didn't even hear about this firsthand; Aaron called me just as I was walking into LIB class; so I could sit there thinking about my friends/colleagues moving away/smashing their heads against dashboards.

The outcome is that I'm being called upon to fill Scott's shifts next week; when I have two term papers due on Halloween that I haven't started on yet.

God Damn It.

You fit in with: Spiritualism Your ideals are mostly spiritual, but in an individualistic way. While spirituality is very important in your life, organized religion itself may not be for you. It is best for you to seek these things on your own terms. 60% spiritual. 40% reason-oriented.

Take this quiz at QuizGalaxy.com

My friend asked me to sign up for the college facebook, and I must say, I'm none too into it.

I started with only RT and got suckered into LJ and then into Axis and now facebook? I have no time for the internet as is.

Anyway, can somebody tell me what's so great about this thing that sprung up overnight?

Just finished my paper on Neil Postman's Amusing Ourselves to Death. Good stuff; it talks about how evil television is. Good stuff.

This morning I went to get my keloid (which is Latin for "Was once a mole, then made into a scar where the mole was removed and has expanded three times the size of the mole and itches like a bitch") shot full of steroids. My tit was numb for days after the mole was removed (painkillers) and now methinks it will burn for all time from the 'roids. My poor, defenseless tit!

Anyways, I almost didn't make it to the dermatologist because I overslept. We went out to Easttown last night.

You know what I've discovered? Bars, when one is sober, SUCK ASS!

I mean really! I got off work and made it to Easttown at around ten pm. The gang had been out at the Hookah Lounge for two hours at that point and they were pretty burned out by the time I met them in Billy's. Then half of us went over to Mulligan's with a quick stop over at Yesterdog's but I left by half past midnight. It was damn boring.

And what, you may well ask, was so different this night as opposed to last week? Absolutely nothing, save for the fact that nobody was drunk. That saying of "I don't need to get wasted to have a good time" is now declared to be a bold-faced lie. When one is drunk, the mere act of falling off one's chair is means for fifteen minutes of giggles. When one is sober, being whacked in the back of the head by Tits McGee, the surly barmaid, is less a opportuntiy to laugh and more an opportuntiy to quiver in fear. Her boobs are bigger than my head! And she keeps her change in them! And she whacked me in the head with them!

I am not pleased. Not pleased at all. And speaking of tits, mine still burns from the 'roids!


I hate tits. Tits suck.