- Crush = officially over. For the record, he *isn’t* younger, but by the time this information reached Processing Central, it was too late. Whatever.
- I forget what the second thing was supposed to be.
There really is a visible difference between spending five minutes blow-drying my hair and spending over a half-hour. But it’s such a freaking tedious process.
Do I contradict myself?
Very well then I contradict myself,
(I am large, I contain multitudes.)
I have had Whitman on the brain lately. I love that last line especially; the next time someone stares at me uncomprehendingly, I am going to shrug and look off to the side and into the distance and say, loftily, "I am large. I contain multitudes." That’ll show ’em.
I saw a bumper sticker on a chick’s car by the MPE earlier this week that said: "Geologists know how to make the bed rock!".
I cannot stress enough how geology humor is quite possibly the worst kind of humor in the world . And given that I am the girl whose life would be incomplete without elephant jokes and other ba-dum-tshh moments, that’s– oh, that’s, that’s a compliment right there. And every Geo major or geologist I’ve met has this terrible-wonderful sense of humor. *I* have it, too, more or less, but I have no intention whatsoever of being a geologist, ever. Which I think is even better, because then I get to be one of the gloried few outsiders who actually appreciates the jokes where others will just roll their eyes and stop listening.
Where I guess I’m trying to go with this: I have a crush on a grad student. WHOM I HAVE NEVER MET. So it’s not much of a foundation for a crush, except he’s Geo and he has such an adorable, goofy smile. Crushes have been developed on much weaker ground before. But 1) I do not think I will actually ever meet him and 2) it’s very possible he is younger than I am, so, like 99% of my crushes (which are few and far in between to start), this is all very implausible.
I need a nap.
 There’s a potential bad pun in there somewhere. Like how geologists might stress you out, but it’s not their fault? (ohhh)
Sometimes, in E&M, when the lecture gets a little snoozy (you’d think a class on electricity and magnetism would be more *stimulating* and *riveting*– ha!), I try to spice up my notes by putting exclamation marks after my section headers or by scribbling enthusiastic commentary. So my physics notes are littered with things like "Ohm’s Law!" and "quasistatics = reversible work!" and "contour integral! hooray!"
My geo notes have exclamation marks in them all over the place, too, but those are authentic. I mean, how can you *not* get excited about lava flows and foliated metamorphic rocks (gneiss! and schist! HA!!)?
And, oh man, in this week’s civil lab? We were working with PowerPoint and I just started creating ridiculous slides. What other choice did I have? It was that, really, or DIE FROM BOREDOM. But I was so thoroughly amused by myself that I couldn’t stop snickering (but softly?), which, uh, I don’t think the lab monitor (slash-begin-quote-TA-end-quote) appreciated a whole super lot. That, however, is a story all its own.
And I got another of my TAs to put stickers (supplied by me) on my graded lab reports. COLLEGE IS A BLAST!
Apparently I go through this phase often enough that I’m actually aware that it’s a phase. But, uh, yeah. I have about eleventy thousand hundred and two posts 90% written and saved as drafts. None of them have titles. I can’t let myself post anything unless it’s titled, and my title-generating machine is out-of-service. Someone’s scheduled to come by and repair it tomorrow between the hours of noon and never.
Anyway. Geo lecture was canceled today so I had an extra hour to dick around in the library stacks (which were freezing cold today), so I decided to participate in the song chart meme that’s been going around the Internet (again, I know this isn’t new or anything) like HepB and flu combined:
This is getting ridiculous.