Starting of Spring Term

It is the first week back to school for a new term. People are either excited to be there or dreading the outcome of yet another unsuccessful term. I, for one, was ecstatic to return to school to see my friends, be in my own room, and have a whole new set of classes with interesting professors/students. I did what everyone does in a room full of new people, I observed those around me. You might call it judging. But I can only focus in on the strange people for so long before I begin to get curious about how they manage to live the lives they lead. Then I find myself day dreaming about myself acting with such peculiar characteristics, and before I knew it the kid next to me had to nudge me, and tell me to stop spasuming and drooling.

I noticed the "pretty girls" (a nice way of categorizing the materialistic bitches who don't know how to think for themselves) prep their faces, which were already caked with layers of foundation for their ONE class that day. Life must be swell as Barbie... I wouldn't know, I'm too busy pretending to be G.I. Jane! But there's got to be some truth in these types of girls. I must give them credit, they have to be smart enough to have made it this far in school... unless they're majoring in Business... In that case, no wonder they have all the free time in the world to spend creating the perfect look which masks their true identities and lures in the most shallow men. I'm not saying you have to be ugly to tempt a worthy man, I'm saying, there's more to a true special woman than what she looks like.

As I get older, I worry about health issues. How young I am, yet I'm worried about some long word, german spelling, impossible to pronounce disease that only occurs in 1 out of every 300,000 people. I promise you, I think I'm showing symptoms. But seriously, I do wish I could be more of a healthy person. Not just what I eat (or don't eat) but in my daily life habitat. Such as abiding by the FIVE second rule, not the 15... meh, make it 20 second rule. Or "the expiration date says it's a week old". Perfect, it's still good!

I've recently started carrying around a purse. This is something new in my life because my mother and sister think it is time I grow up. Somewhere, in the handbook for life, I missed the section where it talks about a woman embarrassing herself by carrying around a bag which contains useless pieces of shit that could otherwise be thrown away, burned, eaten, or not even exist at all. So, because I've never carried around a purse before (I usually used my pockets of my jeans or jacket as useful compartment when traveling) I wasn't sure what all goes into a purse. Here I am, walking around with a purse which contains solely my wallet. An empty bag with my wallet... yeah, REAL glad I made this social transformation! I now have to take my phone from the convenience of my pocket and put it in my purse where I cannot feel/hear it vibrate or ring.

With all of these new changes and the beginning of a new term, I feel metamorphosed (yes, this is the correct translation of the word 'metamorphosis') into a different, yet the same person. Not better, not worse but changed in how I look at things. For example, I am now confident when someone asks me how I am doing, I can reply honestly by saying, "I have to pee but there's a line, I have over 100 pages to read before tomorrow but I'd rather play on facebook, I'm generally happy even when I don't look it and overall I'm copesthetic, but in the moment extremely focused from the work you're distracting me from. Oh yeah, how are you?"

Irish Boxing

Friends of mine and I went to this Irish Boxing Fundraiser this past Friday. The four of us girls showed up two hours ahead of time to get good seats. Sitting in one spot for that long is difficult for me. I don't like sitting and doing nothing. However, I found a way to entertain myself by watching the characters come through the entrances. There was all shapes of people and clothed in "fashionable" ways. One common trait between the people arriving were the tattoos people displayed. On the younger people the tattoos were purely for show and looked as though they had no thought put into them whatsoever. The older people's tattoos were much the same just in a stretched out, wrinkly version. Old people's tattoos are like bar codes. The long lines and the only way to read them is if you tilt them up and read them from the long end.
Next I couldn't help but eavesdrop on other people's conversations. Yes, I know it's rude but I was not interested in the conversations the other girls were having (actually I wasn't even paying attention to what they were talking about), so I tuned into random phrases I could pick up from the surrounding people. I heard some odd, redneck, left-field phrases, such as: "'Heard your old lady broke your tractor" or "I hope uncle John can find it and hold onto it" and "But you haven't happened to notice what she's done with the back of it" I did not see where or from whom these phrases came from and quite frankly, I am glad I didn't.
During the boxing, there were your regular gut punches, right hooks, bloody noses (almost every match a guy got a bloody nose) and old men bending over gasping for air, taking their personal time out even though the bell had not yet rang. In between matches, the ring announcer would "entertain"/annoy the audience with jokes to keep from having the awkward silence. I think everyone would have preferred the awkward silence than another one of his jokes.
Then there was an auction for t-shirts. The auctioneer could ramble off the words like they were gibberish or some foreign language that has either been forgotten or has yet to be decoded. During auctions I always become extra aware of my upper limbs. It's like I become half paralyzed or paranoid with my arms. This is NOT the time to scratch your head or pick your nose. You don't know what you'll end up paying for it.