I'm sitting here in the hallway because I couldn't concentrate with the TV on. Mitch is watching the rerun of the Spike TV Video Game Awards. Disgusting; but he goes for that sort of thing: too much focus on "celebrities," cheesy lights and other various, primitive visual attractions to keep the attention of the obviously bored people (those "celebs") in the audience and all those stupid enough to watch them from home.
I was doing extra credit for Communications--since we didn't have time this semester to check out the Cultural Theories, she encouraged us to read them on our own and write a one-to-two page summary on each individual theory (there are three in the section titled "Cultural Context." I got the first one done just now: the anxiety/uncertainty management theory. Apparently theories aren't capitalized. I did that wrong on my last essay; I'm doing a rewrite for a 4.0. I really want to do well in that class. And Management. And Scholar Citizen. Religion; well, I'd like to do well, but you never know with Quanbeck, or so I hear.
I have a huuuuuge zit in my ear. I'm trying to wear headphones, but the left ear-piece keeps slipping out.
I bet you care.
I can't wait for the Communication Department's holiday party. It's Wednesday and Kristen said she'd bring games for us to play. I'm going to make Mitch play with us.
I've been listening to Bach lately. Bach and other Baroque-ie stuff. And a lot of Frank Sinatra and the gang (Ella, Bing...aaaaah).
I've been in athletic shorts and the colorguard t-shirt I stole from marching band two years ago all day. Except when I went to my Communications meeting--I at least put on jeans for that so I'd be warm on my short trek across the quad. I could have taken the tunnels, I suppose, but I haven't mastered them yet. For some reason I always end up in Old Main with no idea how to get into Sverdrup. Which is hilarious: I did it once before, way back before I even went here, and now I can't do it to save my life.
Crockett sent us an email today detailing how neat we are and how much he'll miss us. And how it's about time we stopped being polite and called him Larry. I don't want to call him Larry; I'll call him Crockett. I like to refer to teachers by their last name. Nelson, Plumadore (although, I usually called him P.P.), Mikla...Speaking of Mikla! I should email him a happy holidays ecard.
I'm extremely excited to spend a night with Mitch celebrating Christmas; we'll be doing our own before we go home: we'll open our presents to each other and those in our stockings and drink lots of egg nog and (maybe?) eat lefse. I wonder what we'll have for dinner.
As far as I know (and nobody'd better surprise me) I have only one final, and that's for Communications at eight A.M. Monday the 17th. Mitch has one on Wednesday, so I'm going to work that Monday, Tuesday, and whatever part of Wednesday he'll be in class. Then I'm not sure. Aimee's graduation party is on Thursday...so are we going home Wednesday or Thursday? I'd better ask him.
Mitch made dinner tonight!!!: pancakes. Delicious! Oh, and sausage. He's a wonderful cook.
Mom is sick! I don't want to catch her cold, so if it doesn't go away I'll stock up on Vitamin C before we head home.
Also, I've been getting random bruises and cuts all over the place, so I've started taking my multivitamins again. I don't like taking those, but I also don't want to be bruised and cut. It hurts! I think I have one on my butt. How did I get that? Strange. I know where the one on my hand came from: our Honors performance, but the point is I shouldn't have got it.
My battery is dying: I'm still in the hallway.
Will Ferrel is obnoxious. And hilarious. And usually I hate the obnoxious trait, but he does it well.
Did you know that by one researcher's count, there are twenty-two gender related words to label men who are sexually loose (and most of them are relatively positive)? While on the other hand, there are over 200 words that label sexually loose women, and most of them have negative connotations?
Ask yourself who you really believe developed our language.
Oh, also, I basically plagiarized that from my Communication textbook, A First Look at Communication Theory.
Peter still has my Tron DVD.