Tuesday, April 28, 2009

shout out to melissa

I feel we have grown closer because of this blog. Your comments are genuinely funny, which leads me to believe that 1. you are a funny person and 2. we would get along.
I have been told that we will become good friends throughout the summer because we have the same friends in common. we share them.
I hope this is true.
this was a shout out to you.

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Sunday, April 26, 2009

and i know this is really random - but i just restumbled across it and couldn't resist. watch and enjoy.

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Here's an interesting article i found on CNN - sound familiar to anyone - i think so.

Every woman I know has been in this situation at one time or another . . . wondering whether the guy she's wasting -- I mean, spending -- most of her time with is interested in her as a girlfriend or just a buddy.

Does he love you as a friend, does he love you as girlfriend?

In my case, his name was Daniel (fake name!). He'd flirt, drive me around in his cool vintage car, and just generally make me feel like the coolest, prettiest, most fun girl in the world. We hung out 24/7. He was like my boyfriend, except he never made a move. Ever.

I've never been one to play it cool, so my ginormous crush stank up every room we entered. I was too shy to actually articulate my feelings, but I eventually figured out that while he genuinely liked me, mostly he was just using me for ego gratification while he pursued other women he actually wanted to get physical with. Things came to a head one night when I ran into Daniel while I was out at a bar with a spectacularly handsome, much younger, French dude.

Predictably, seeing me out with someone much prettier than either he or I ignited a fire under Daniel's non-committal butt. He grabbed me on my way to the bathroom and cornered me like he was going to kiss me.

A week prior, I would've been in heaven. But this night, I was with someone who was not only actually into me, he was unapologetic about saying so. I shoved Daniel away, hissing that he'd had his chance and the only reason he wanted me now was because I was no longer available for ego-feedings. He gulped and looked ashamed. That was the last time I put up with an ambiguous boy.

But their numbers are legion. Ambiguous boys don't want to go on dates -- they want to "hang out." They don't want to be labeled your boyfriend -- or even the guy you're seeing -- but they want all the "perks" that are generally part of such an arrangement. I'm not talking about friends with benefits here -- that's a whole other animal. What I'm talking about is the frustrating purgatorial gap between friend and boyfriend.

"We call it hanging out so as to avoid date rejection," said one twenty-something record producer I interviewed. Hmm.

Jeff, a 28-year-old bartender I spoke with had another take. Claiming he hasn't had a "date" since his high school prom (though he's had plenty of girlfriends), Jeff's theory is that "ladies love to talk and communicate things and guys by nature do not want commitment. So the longer you ignore labeling it, the longer you are in the clear to see other girls without the guilt or remorse of feeling like a dirtbag."

My friend Jess, a sexy young librarian-in-training has no patience for this kind of gray-dating. She says, "I usually just force their intentions out of them," but warns that only works on guys who like aggressive ladies. "I have actually said, 'Is this a date?' And then when he inevitably pauses, I add, 'and by the way, whether or not we hook up later may hinge on your reply.'"

But perhaps the best advice came from yoga teacher Lily, who believes an ambiguous dating situation is best handled using reverse psychology. Though she hasn't yet had the opportunity to road-test her theory, she advises, "anytime your non-boyfriend asks you for a favor -- like to put his phone in your purse, or get him his beer while he goes to the little boy's room, scream -- 'I'm not your freaking girlfriend! Do it yourself!'"
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Thursday, April 23, 2009

Moving in at the tute.

So...it dawned on me the other day, that i haven't seen anyone but cathy, diandra, scott, and ben for the last 4 days. Which means that i haven't seen anyone else for the last 4 days. I would like some updates posted on the blog please, of what everyone has been up to. I personally have set up camp in a room at the institute that no boy would dare enter... due to the amount of candy wrappers, study notes, and foot odor that is here. HELP!

Good news though - I showered this morning!
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Wednesday, April 22, 2009

Love on a deadline

Here's an interesting perspective on setting a timeline for love....

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Tuesday, April 21, 2009

Concert Mania

The Kings of Leon are coming August 12th.
I feel we are on a little bit of a concert spree and this could be what is provoking the desire to go.
I really should have no desire- I know two songs- one being "This Sex is on Fire." What kind of a song is that? However, I am extremely attracted to the singer's voice. So if tickets are cheap enough? Probably not. Tell me not to go.
Greenday are coming too. Tell me not to go. I don't really want to- but I'm sure it would be pretty entertaining.
I have been listening to the Killers all day today. While I was supposed to be lesson planning. They are dang good. I'm excited for Monday. I think the new CD should be on constantly in our house until the concert arrives.
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Register me

I seem to have the greatest luck with getting pulled over lately. The only two times I have been pulled over have happened in the last two weeks. Wonderful.

Darin drives 12 hours going 140-145km/hr on our way to ID. I jump in the drivers seat for 20 minutes and there are lights in my rearview mirror. Thank you. He clocked me at going jsut over 90m/hr. I payed him 20 dollars and was on my way, no need to put anything on insurance. I had good luck.

My car has issues. There is a something wrong with a short circuit and when I go over bumps or turn on my blinker all the lights in my car may or may not go off sometimes. When I say all the lights I mean all the lights. All the lights outside and inside my car. Some nights this doesnt happen at all and sometimes I drive for only 5 minutes and it happens. Its all chance.
I am driving home from Darin's on the Anthony and it happens. I get pulled over. Seriously? I explain to him the issues with my car. He asks for lisence and registration. My registration and insurance - EXPIRED! They expired last month. SERIOUSLY? SO I had no idea. So a ticket for 230 bones later I am driving home so upset. How am I going to pay for this stupid ticket.

Any suggestions on getting out of this.
I wish I would have cried to the officer. Maybe he would have had a bit more sympathy for me as a poor sad student?

Lucky Di
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Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Death to our blog?

I am sitting on a computer in the computer lab at school on supervision duty. Facebook is blocked- a terrible fate in my need to waste time. So I decided to resurrect the blog. I see we haven't had much activity on it- which is fine. We are all busy. However, I know that most of you still check it daily- and by most of you, I do- and thought that it would be a great way to keep in touch during exams. I assume I will not see any of you during that period of time. Except Rachel. Perhaps we will bring you food one day. That would be nice of us...
Now that Britney is over, and our discussion of peeing in the shower is dead- a song had even been written on it- we may need to find a new topic of discussion.
On Oprah yesterday, there was a story about a single dad who had his wife die a couple hours after his daughter was born. He now blogs about experiences as a single dad, and has a rather large following. Strangers were finding his address and sending him baby toys and money. I propose that we make up something dramatic and tragic that has happened to us in our lives and see how many people we can get to send us money. This may be another dishonest, but effective money making scheme... I also think we need to get some more followers for our blog. Shout out to Michelle and Melissa- but we should get at least another one. Aim small, miss small.
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