zfreelance: (<lj site="livejournal.com"  user="timepunching">) (Whiskey)
Ugh. First day of classes = rain. OBVIOUSLY.

On a positive note, I liked both of my professors today, and my work schedule is no where near as hectic as last semester. I also have the potential to get six different first aid certifications, which is awesome. My issue with my own blood aside, emergency care/EMT is something that I'm keeping in mind if PT doesn't pan out.

I'm not taking as many hours as I'd like, but there wasn't a damn thing I could do, because the people in charge are idiots.

Yeah, old news is old.

I have a lot of personal homework to do this semester, which includes figuring out if I want to take the summer and go beat out my 40+ hours of volunteer work that I need for my grad school applications and take classes online, or if I want to stay at school and work for another summer. My bank account points to staying and working. We'll see.

I also have to count up my credits and ballpark my graduation date. 2012 is looking grim, I must say. Fucking pre-recs are fucking up my plans, okay?

And then there's the GRE. I've heard mixed reviews about this. I went to public school in Florida; I fear no man's standardized test. But this is grad school we're talking about, so one would assume that years of FCAT and a slightly above average SAT score would not a prepared applicant make. But then again, I'm real good at faking it. Again, we'll see.

I also have to watch my idiot sister like a hawk, because she screwed up her GPA, messing around with various and sundry boy-things. I know I can't baby-sit her all the time, but if she doesn't pull this up, she'll lose scholarships and insurance and all sorts of fun stuff. Sadly, she's at the age where she's a legal adult and will remind you of that fact at every turn.

Bottom line, being an adult is hard. Alcohol is easy. Take that as you will.

::falls facedown on the bed::
zfreelance: (<lj site="livejournal.com"  user="timepunching">) (It was more fun in hell)
Sorry, NaNoWriMo. I don't have enough time for a real life, say nothing of 50,000 words of a completely original story.

Just. No.
zfreelance: (<lj site="livejournal.com"  user="timepunching">) (Science!)
Chem II Lab can go and die, 's all I'm sayin.
zfreelance: (<lj site="livejournal.com"  user="timepunching">) (Highway)
Oh my God, I am so burnt out right now.

I had a Chem test this morning that threw previously unseen curveballs at me. I'll be grateful to get a 'C'.

My bike screwed up AGAIN on the way to class, which nearly made me late for the aforementioned test. Its now parked on the other side of campus because I am too damn tired to deal with it.

I'm leaving for Spring Break tonight, which means I'm going to miss a staff bowling game we had planned that I forgot about.

I am starving, but my apartment is out of food, and I am too damn tired to go out and get some.

I have been working my ass off for these past three months, and I'm going to be working my Spring Break, anyway, for volunteer hours.

Long story short, I am now sitting on my ass, reading porn and waiting for a pizza to arrive. And I don't plan on moving until I'm on my way out of Pensacola.

zfreelance: (<lj site="livejournal.com"  user="timepunching">) (Coffee)
That was probably the longest stretch I've gone without updating on here for a long time. Which is not saying much.

What's going on:

01. It really sucks about Haiti. I sent $10 of my parent's money to the Red Cross for relief help. I also got really ansty when I saw that they were sending doctors and nurses down there for free. I won't be qualified for rescue work as a physical therapist, but that still seems like something I should be helping with, somehow.

02. Today I woke up to find my bike's back tire completely flat. Gonna have to fix that, because there is no way I can keep up with my schedule without a bike.

03. I got my first RA program approved, which means I get to put yet another item on my to-do list.

04. I have nothing going on this weekend and I am willing to kill to keep it that way. This is my first weekend free, and it's a long one. I am going to eat, sleep, and relax, and to hell with anyone trying to get me to do anything else.

05. The RA thing is going well, but I am learning to stand firm on things I am not willing to do. Extra work is not something I can handle right now and I refuse to be taken advantage of as the new girl. Most of my coworkers only know me as the one asking endless questions because she doesn't know anything. But now I know better. So, yeah.

06. Chemistry just might be the death of me.

07. I may have to switch majors. Again.


That is all.
zfreelance: (<lj site="livejournal.com"  user="timepunching">) (Stage Dive)
Something broke, my father is screaming curse words, and I am fighting the urge to climb out the window every time I hear something that resembled my name.

Jumpy? Who, me?


Dec. 14th, 2009 09:12 am
zfreelance: (<lj site="livejournal.com"  user="timepunching">) (Dead)
Woke up feeling not too awesome. Just took some meds, which are making my head weird.

I think if I fall asleep, I'll wake up a killer whale or something. this is awesome, y/n?

Today is a day for reading smutty comics and drinking tea. Thanks so much.
zfreelance: (<lj site="livejournal.com"  user="timepunching">) (Legs)
Ahaha, so I had a gypsy kind of day, today. I bribed my roommate, Ren, to into taking me down to the Social Security office to apply for a new card, so the lady in payroll will shut the hell up. It was a relatively painless process.

Afterwards, we went to get her car checked out, because the engine light had come on. Ren is no dummy, and was quizzing the guy on whether or not he was making up symptoms for her car so she would have to pay more. The guy got indignant, and Ren ignored him. Finally Ren agreed to let the car get checked out, and we went to go get some food at Hardee's. After that, we walked over to Walgreen's, where I promptly grabbed a Santa hat and put it on my head. Ren shopped around for Christmas presents, and I read magazines.

We were called back to the car shop, where they said that she needed a flush and an oil change. Ren coerced her father into paying for it, and we then marched across the street to browse a dying Blockbuster. We then went by Target, where we fought with lightsabers, messed with the electronics displays, and sat in the aisle to read more magazines.

We got the call that Ren's car was all better. We loaded up and sailed away to go pick up her paycheck and meander back to campus.

It was a gypsy kind of day because the day was warm and windy and wet (my favorite kind), and nothing felt better than to be dashing through traffic and wandering through stores with nothing in mind other than to kill time and just being bums.
I love the feeling of being outside the normal rhythm of things. You have no place to be, and no reason to hurry.

It's also funny, because many other people consider walking around a shopping area for hours with nothing else to do a living hell. They would get impatient and bored and frustrated very quickly. They might even feel stranded or cornered.

But Ren and I are both very easy-going people, and we had no problem entertaining ourselves.

I can't really describe why I had so much fun, today, doing nothing at all. I guess I'm just that kind of gal.
zfreelance: (<lj site="livejournal.com"  user="timepunching">) (Soup of the Day: Whiskey!)
Thanksgiving write-up:

I came. I saw. I ate it. The end.

My family has a tradition where everyone makes at least one dish for Thanksgiving dinner. My dishes were sausage balls (a heady mix of sausage, Bisquick, grated cheese, and a leetle bit of onion, roll into balls, bake, eat, get fat, repeat) and sweet potato pecan pie.
We had turkey and squash and broccoli casserole and dressing and gravy and we all rolled away from the table. Afterwards we played Blockus, which is like a downright cutthroat board game of Tetris.
I also probably drank too much champagne, because I'm pretty sure that I was hungover when I got up at 9 to go see Boondock Saints II and New Moon. Which was worth it.
Then my ride back to Pensacola fell through, again. But at least he had the courtesy to let me know before the fact. So tomorrow I drive back with my sister, who will then drive the car back to Tally.

I have all of one exam, which is this coming Saturday. So don't ask me what my plans are, after that, because I do not know.

Anyway. Good Thanksgiving.
zfreelance: (<lj site="livejournal.com"  user="timepunching">) (Dead)
I am in a bad mood, and I'm rational enough to know that there is no real reason for it.
You know what that means.

Hopefully I can make it safely back into the world of free tampons before all hell breaks loose.

I'm very annoyed at my Art History teacher, too, but that has logic behind it. I made a dismal grade on a homework assignment on a technicality. I have been riding a borderline 'A' for a while, and this may be enough to push me into the 'B' range. Which annoys me.

The weather has given me a splendid headache, what with the temperature outside being all, "Brrr! It's fucking winter!" and the temperature inside the classrooms and my dorm being all, "Let's get tropical, bitch!" I have the window wide open and I'm still sweating.

I'm cautiously enthusiastic about Thanksgiving break, mostly because it's an excuse to give this school the finger and ride off into the sunset a few days ahead of schedule. Why, yes, I'm still bitter about the 'hurricane' fiasco. Thanks very much.
What I'm not looking forward to is, in order of least favorites:

01. The fighting, namely between my sister and my father.
02. The yelling, which will inevitably happen.
03. The guilt-trips.
04. Generally feeling like I'm twelve-years old, again.

Family time is stressful time. And people wonder why others hate the holidays.

I'm going to go eat junk food and sit on the internet for a while.
zfreelance: (<lj site="livejournal.com"  user="timepunching">) (Tea and Attitude)
01. Fell asleep on the couch

02. Woke up in my room

03. Avoided food entirely in favor of being lazy

04. Got accused of throwing a temper tantrum

05. Threw an actual temper tantrum

06. Rediscovered enjoyment of classical music

07. Went back to sleep, for lack of anything else to do

08. Woke up a few hours later

09. Went to Wal-Mart to buy soda

10. Sped down Thomasville until I ran out of gas

11. Went back to the house

12. Ate

13. Started contemplating watching True Blood. But I don't think I'm that desperate.

Whose ready for the start of the semester? I'm fucking ready for the start of the semester.
zfreelance: (<lj site="livejournal.com"  user="timepunching">) (Creamsicle)
So yesterday was a day for Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle and tiling. In that order.

I got the bright idea, two nights ago, to catch up on xxxHolic, an awesome manga by CLAMP. I did, only to realize that it's sister manga, Tsubasa, which runs parallel to it with the occasional crossover, had carried on apace as well. So, of course, I had to read it, too.

It took me all. day.

It was a lot of fun, and I love the series even more than before, but DAMN. I think they started it in 2003. So, there was a lot of it.

And then, around 9pm, I became the Vampire Tile Cutter.

My mother and I are both extremely similar in that we both work our best in between 7pm and 3am. We were tailor-made for the graveyard shift. Also, our tiling project is the kitchen counters, a job we cannot tackle during daylight hours because everyone needs to eat and stuff.

We dry-fit, cut, sawed, sanded, poured, mixed, set, cursed, begged, and said, "The hell with it. That's good enough," until 4am, wherein we surveyed the newly tiled counters and agreed that it was now ice cream time.

I kind of enjoyed this particular venture into tiling. For one thing, counters are infinitely easier to tile than walls. And, like I said, late at night is my kind of shift. And, as a bonus, no one can bitch at me for sleeping in, god dammit.
zfreelance: (<lj site="livejournal.com"  user="timepunching">) (Chillin')
My little sister has become the victim of some particularly vicious rumors (I assume) and it's getting violent. Right now, she's on the phone, having an extremely catty conversation with the girl who seems to have started the rumors about whatever, demanding that she fix it.

I'm sympathetic. I hate rumor-mongers, and have in the past threatened those who have come to me with them with bodily harm.

But the intricacies of who said what to whom about who, and who took these rumors the wrong way, and how they've mutated is just plain hilarious. In a strictly juvenile sort of way.

My mother and I are equally baffled by the rumor mill, as we both adhere a very strict doctrine of not giving a fuck. We encourage my sister to do the same, as these things tend to be nipped in the bud at a very early stage when the rumored person doesn't know you from Adam, but I think she secretly relishes these conflicts. Perhaps they feed her inner martyr.

Whatever. I just hit people with cars if they get too annoying.
zfreelance: (<lj site="livejournal.com"  user="timepunching">) (Hmm.)
Just got word that I lost my job at the school, due to budget cuts. They said if I ever did work/study, they'd try to hire me back.
At least now I don't have to juggle time between boredom at work and pissing time away between classes. Also, I'll probably get back into swimming.

In the meantime, I'm watching Generation Kill, a phenomenal HBO show about Recon Marines in Iraq during Operation Freedom. It's hardcore.

Generation Kill via watch-series.com
zfreelance: (<lj site="livejournal.com"  user="timepunching">) (Hmm.)
My social schedule for the past week has been dictated by a seven-year-old. I'm getting a little sick of it.

I'm still at that point where adults are more comfortable treating me as one of the kids, rather than including me. Which is understandable, as I'm completely at sea when it comes to discussions about raising children, clipping coupons, or people my family knew in their infancy. But no matter the trip, I seem to always come away from family gatherings needing a vacation from my vacation.

Also, my comma splices are wigging me out. I just don't know how to fix them, as they all sound okay in my head. I guess I pause a lot in my daily conversations.

The cousins are leaving on Monday. God only knows how long we'll linger beyond that.
I hate that I begrudge my mother the chance to spend time with her parents, and I probably should not have come here in the first place. Cold comfort as I slip into slow, screaming insanity.

This is why I drink. And also why I will be god damned before I come back home for another summer.

GOD, I need to find something else to bitch about.
zfreelance: (<lj site="livejournal.com"  user="timepunching">) (Stage Dive)
Tomorrow I leave for the grandparent's villa in good old Mississippi, which won't mean much, internet-wise, as they've set up an access point for their laptop-toting granddaughters. Woot.

The cousins are there, three girls that I haven't seen in about a year. It will be nice seeing them. For about a day. The eldest of the girls is thirteen, I believe, and the youngest is six, at most. They like shopping at Claire's, watching Spongebob, and the Jonas Brothers.

I love them. They are not my primo-vacation buddies. To them, I am as old as the hills. Heh.

The reconstruction of the house continues apace. Today, my mother and I tiled two of her kitchen counters. In truth, all that remains of the job I've been drafted into is one long kitchen counter, and an island. Not daunting in terms of labor, but I am so tired of this. As I pointed out to my mother, I'm never going to be enthusiastic about this because I was not included in the planning process.

Here's how this should have gone:

"Do you think we need to retile the counters?"
"The counters. They need to change."
"And the cabinets. They need new paint. And maybe I'll take this cabinet door off and make a glass door, instead."
"Great... Sounds like fun."
"Oh, also I was repainting the bathroom and discovered that the shower base was cracked and needs to be replaced, and now's a perfect time to redecorate... We should tile that, too!"
"Yuh. Uhm, Dad? Mom's at it again. You have four other children, and I'm joining Greenpeace. Let me know how it goes."


My mother swears that this job will be done by summer's end, and we as a family can then take an actual vacation, but I'm not holding my breath.

And I'd feel worse about how hard my mother's working, except that, uh. She kind of brought it on herself.

Anyway, in the meantime, I've rediscovered modern punk, a genre I'd left sometime in high school in pursuit of harder rock. The lighter instrumentation and messages of non-conformity and mischief strike a chord in me, nowadays.
It's just fun.

So, in preparation for my forays into Family-Reunion Land, I'm stocking up on Thrice, Rise Against, The Used, Atomship, Yellowcard, Panic at the Disco, and The All-American Rejects.
zfreelance: (<lj site="livejournal.com"  user="timepunching">) (8()
I've had an accident-prone couple of days.

For most of the summer, my left wrist has been acting up, prompting me to wear a brace.
Yesterday, I kicked a drawer that had been pulled out of the cabinet, busting a blood vessel in my foot.
Today I lost my balance in the library and fell into a bookcase, bruising the back of one arm and jamming a finger but good.
And my knees hurt.

And yes, I would like some cheese with my whine.
zfreelance: (<lj site="livejournal.com"  user="timepunching">) (Retard Smile)
Last night was the Afterglow party at Floyd's, which roughly translates into, "Let's throw some foam on people and watch them rave with glowsticks and possibly have sex on the dance floor!"

I went in jeans, tennis shoes, and a t-shirt, as I was too goddamn lazy to shave or anything, I met friends, and a good time was had by all. While waiting for the foam to actually be dispensed, we used the empty dance floor as a fighting rink, sparring with glowsticks for knives. Once the dancing started, things got fun, and then surreal. We were either chest-deep in foam or standing in ankle-deep water stained with crushed glowsticks. There were some couples on that floor that were... into it.


Anyways, after we ditched the party, we came to realize that our perfectly white shirts had become slightly less so. We camped out at the Mickey D's next door, and then went to go jump in a friend's grandparent's pool. We tossed the extra glowsticks in to illuminate the water.
What this friend failed to mention was that the water was FUCKING FREEZING.

I went home in my underwear, something that might constitute a walk of shame, except that I cared for nothing other than getting a shower.

Awesome night, anyway.
zfreelance: (<lj site="livejournal.com"  user="timepunching">) (Pie)
I'm awake way too early, which is the other half of the norm around here. Either you stir at the crack of noon or you're up and out at Oh God o'clock.

Anyway, I'm not nearly as ill as I once was, my sore throat having retreated back to the hell from whence it came, leaving a chest cough in it's place. Charming, but nowhere near as painful.
Today I get to play chaperon to my little brother, the rising star. Okay, not really. My brother (who, I kid you not, looks exactly like this, 'cept blonder) auditioned to be on a will-call cast list for FSU student films. And, by jove, they have called. So, today and tomorrow, we get to drive out to the train tracks for filming. I'm not sure what my role is, other than looking pretty off-camera, but I'm sure I can handle it.

Tomorrow's the 4th. Dunno what's up with that, other than the fireworks show our neighborhood association guards like a national secret. I say pretentious, you say pricks.

And then, somewhere in there, I get older. I am looking forward to that day being over, because I have a theory. There is no 19 years of age. You're either 18 or 20, depending on what you want to get away with. 19 means nothing.

zfreelance: (<lj site="livejournal.com"  user="timepunching">) (Stage Dive)
I'm still sick, kind of. I turn 20 in less than a week. I have pink hair, chipped nail polish, and a ton of dirty laundry. I'm running up a sleep debt. There's a new episode of Burn Notice and Royal Pains tonight. Leverage is coming back this month. I'm on something like my tenth Diet Dr. Pepper of the day. I just got finished watching Blood Diamond, and I watched Garden State yesterday. I'm listening to some kind of bubblegum punk rock that makes me want to pierce something. I have a pair of jeans from the Drowning Pool concert that smell like a head shop.

I'm focusing on the good stuff.

AND NOW I'm reading a story. The story is thus:
"Leverage and Those Sex-Ass Boys from Supernatural Do .Hack"



zfreelance: (<lj site="livejournal.com"  user="timepunching">) (Default)

October 2012

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