My life is dumb; I have a dumb life.

 I have been blogging a lot lately... I don't know why. Perhaps it is because I've got a lot to say? It's never important stuff, so I'm not really sure why I feel the need to put it out into the cosmos. But maybe you find it interesting. And I like to hear about interesting things, so I guess I just figure that you do, too.

I was sitting at school today, listening to the lecture, when I tuned out and stared at the ground. This is the way class usually goes for me. I noticed a small shard of glass, pointy side sticking straight up out of the carpet, and thought What?! How can this be? No. THERE ARE PEOPLE WALKING AROUND THIS SCHOOL WITHOUT SHOES! And then, I had a minor panic attack for them. Because they deserve to know. Not that I condone shoeless people walking around campus, because really, I don't, but I do think they have a right to know what they're stepping on. Like, a guy who used to be my neighbor. He doesn't wear shoes, and he rides around on a big unicycle. It may sound comical, but he is a talented creature of this campus, I tell you. And I just think it would be such a shame to waste all that talent on behalf of an unwarranted piece of glass which he got caught up with. Get it together, janitorial staff. I mean, honestly. Thus, I give you the reason that I don't take many notes in Archaeology.

I waved hello to my friend, Luke, on campus today. One time, I told him (IN CONFIDENCE) about how I do this embarrassing thing where if someone doesn't see me waving to them, I nudge them on the shoulder in passing, without saying a word. It's sort of just a weird reflex. And I told him about how it is particularly embarrassing when I don't really know the person and it just sort of happens, anyway.
So, today, when I waved, because he thinks he's funny, he pretended to be me, doing that arm nudge thing, really dramatically. But it wasn't just a nudge. Oh, no. It was like a full force human interactive hurricane, and it almost knocked me over. And it really wasn't funny even at all, Luke. It wasn't.
Well, okay. Sort of, it was.

In class, whenever Dean doesn't hear something, or he misses a concept, he always just blurts out, "What did he say?" and looking back on my previous point, number one, I'm usually staring at insignificant (or are they?) shards of glass. Liiiiiiiike I can even explain what just went on. So most of the time, I just make stuff up and he writes it down. I figure it's better than people looking at him as no one responds, right? Right. That's what I would want people to do for me, you know, have my back and all. And I may not get all of the concepts, but one thing I've always got is Dean's back.

I can't spell the word conscience without using autocorrect. Even now, when I just tried to type it into google, google didn't even know what I was getting at! And I'm a good speller. In the twelfth grade, I won Mrs. Williams' Spelling Bee against Blake Ziser (my first through ninth grade crush--that one felt good... cosmic bitch slap, blake ziser!) with the word porcelain. So really, this misspelling thing is hard for me to admit. Be gentle with me.



Have a quirky weekend, okay?