MAMA SAID THERE'D BE DAYS LIKE THIS
So, I'm going to get a tattoo. Just you wait.
There are lots of good reasons for this, but unless you want me to literally talk your head off about it, you probably shouldn't ask. Well, to be honest, I'll probably tell you anyway. So, prepare yourselves.
The boy I like got back together with his girlfriend. Isn't that just the way?
So, apparently there are people around, in this very school, who study very seriously for midterms. I know! I, too, was shocked. I have a midterm on Thursday in my history class (Sex, Population, & Birth Control), but I wasn't going to freak out about it. After all, the professor GAVE us a review sheet with all of the test material on it. I MEAN. COME ON! Does it honestly get any easier than that? It can't right? Well, nevertheless, a few other girls in my class approached me about being in a study group with them, and I was all, "Okay, whatever." But then they send me an e-mail that's all, "Okay, Sarah, you answer questions blah, blah, and blah, and e-mail them back to us." Excuse me? I thought we were going to get together and chit-chat about the test answers, not, like, take this whole thing so damn seriously. So, I feel like an asshole slacker and all that, but I don't really like this kind of groupthink. I don't think it could be construed as cheating, but it seems a lot more intimate and official than I'm accustomed to. When did I become such a rebellious badass? (More accurately, when did I become such a crank of an English major?) I'm much more inclined to believe it's the latter, but you know me. Always preferring the latter to the former. Every damn time.
So, I'm almost halfway done with tomorrow's assignment for Readings in Out Poetry (the class that makes me want to drop out of college all the time. Wait, maybe I AM becoming a selacious badass after all!). And the only thing that's keeping my nose to the grindstone is the fact that there's a very dazed boy in the corner of the computer lab, greasy as all fuck, softly singing that 4-Non-Blondes song, "What's Going On?". And he's not listening to headphones.
So, I'm going to get a tattoo. Just you wait.
There are lots of good reasons for this, but unless you want me to literally talk your head off about it, you probably shouldn't ask. Well, to be honest, I'll probably tell you anyway. So, prepare yourselves.
The boy I like got back together with his girlfriend. Isn't that just the way?
So, apparently there are people around, in this very school, who study very seriously for midterms. I know! I, too, was shocked. I have a midterm on Thursday in my history class (Sex, Population, & Birth Control), but I wasn't going to freak out about it. After all, the professor GAVE us a review sheet with all of the test material on it. I MEAN. COME ON! Does it honestly get any easier than that? It can't right? Well, nevertheless, a few other girls in my class approached me about being in a study group with them, and I was all, "Okay, whatever." But then they send me an e-mail that's all, "Okay, Sarah, you answer questions blah, blah, and blah, and e-mail them back to us." Excuse me? I thought we were going to get together and chit-chat about the test answers, not, like, take this whole thing so damn seriously. So, I feel like an asshole slacker and all that, but I don't really like this kind of groupthink. I don't think it could be construed as cheating, but it seems a lot more intimate and official than I'm accustomed to. When did I become such a rebellious badass? (More accurately, when did I become such a crank of an English major?) I'm much more inclined to believe it's the latter, but you know me. Always preferring the latter to the former. Every damn time.
So, I'm almost halfway done with tomorrow's assignment for Readings in Out Poetry (the class that makes me want to drop out of college all the time. Wait, maybe I AM becoming a selacious badass after all!). And the only thing that's keeping my nose to the grindstone is the fact that there's a very dazed boy in the corner of the computer lab, greasy as all fuck, softly singing that 4-Non-Blondes song, "What's Going On?". And he's not listening to headphones.
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