It May Seem Like Whining, But Really, I Have Such The Coolest Life
I keep meaning to update this, and I even wrote a whole post about my new haircut, complete with picture, but I never seem to have time anymore, and so I think I need post several notices.
Notice to the Internet: Stop expanding. You know I have to explore you to your badly-written and poorly-constructed and non-footnoted end, so just stop already, okay? There's just not time.
Notice to The BYU: Stop providing interesting and exciting opportunities for me to participate in. They are beguiling, and I have not the power to resist your International Cinema nor your theatre productions nor even the classes you provide for me. The schedule is exhausting, and I think we can all agree that I'd have more time if this were a crappy university with nothing to do and a lax attendance policy and easy grading.
Notice to my professors: Homework? Pfft. You've got to be kidding me. Who has time to do all this? Certainly not I, and my priority right now is getting outside as much as possible before winter sets in in the next two weeks. If you're not careful, I'll stoop to unethical levels and copy/paste the papers on Plato's apology that have been offered to me pre-written, and THEN where will we be? We will be with a philosophy student who has never fully read and digested the Apology. For shame.
Notice to the fun people here: Stop hanging out with me. I like hanging out. I like going out for ice cream and seeing shooting stars up in the canyon and eating cake until I explode and running my heart out and hiking Timp and going to see the Utah Symphony Orchestra and washing boys' (whom I barely know) dishes and learning where all the stores in University Mall are and accidentally hitting on prophets' grandsons and watching the Cougars lose miserably and having breakfast cooked for me and chilling in front of the television and all the other billion and a half things I get to do every week. BUT. When will it end? And also, when will hot tubbing be involved? 'Cause I'm totally there if it involves hot and tub.
Notice to the David O. McKay Essay Contest and BYU Religious Education Student Symposium: I totally own you. You are mine. Bill will not win you. Jordan will not win you. Elizabeth will win you. Get to know and love that name, because it's gonna be plastered all over your sweet, sweet glossy pages.
And what am I going to do with all the leftover time this gets me, you ask? Fall asleep in front of the webcam, of course, with a Froot Loop cereal bar clutched in my fat little hand and Contact playing in the background. Hoo shah.
Notice to the Internet: Stop expanding. You know I have to explore you to your badly-written and poorly-constructed and non-footnoted end, so just stop already, okay? There's just not time.
Notice to The BYU: Stop providing interesting and exciting opportunities for me to participate in. They are beguiling, and I have not the power to resist your International Cinema nor your theatre productions nor even the classes you provide for me. The schedule is exhausting, and I think we can all agree that I'd have more time if this were a crappy university with nothing to do and a lax attendance policy and easy grading.
Notice to my professors: Homework? Pfft. You've got to be kidding me. Who has time to do all this? Certainly not I, and my priority right now is getting outside as much as possible before winter sets in in the next two weeks. If you're not careful, I'll stoop to unethical levels and copy/paste the papers on Plato's apology that have been offered to me pre-written, and THEN where will we be? We will be with a philosophy student who has never fully read and digested the Apology. For shame.
Notice to the fun people here: Stop hanging out with me. I like hanging out. I like going out for ice cream and seeing shooting stars up in the canyon and eating cake until I explode and running my heart out and hiking Timp and going to see the Utah Symphony Orchestra and washing boys' (whom I barely know) dishes and learning where all the stores in University Mall are and accidentally hitting on prophets' grandsons and watching the Cougars lose miserably and having breakfast cooked for me and chilling in front of the television and all the other billion and a half things I get to do every week. BUT. When will it end? And also, when will hot tubbing be involved? 'Cause I'm totally there if it involves hot and tub.
Notice to the David O. McKay Essay Contest and BYU Religious Education Student Symposium: I totally own you. You are mine. Bill will not win you. Jordan will not win you. Elizabeth will win you. Get to know and love that name, because it's gonna be plastered all over your sweet, sweet glossy pages.
And what am I going to do with all the leftover time this gets me, you ask? Fall asleep in front of the webcam, of course, with a Froot Loop cereal bar clutched in my fat little hand and Contact playing in the background. Hoo shah.
posted by juxtaposer at 12:25 PM
1 Comments:
You're involved in anything involving hot tubs, remember? Or maybe you've already forgotten.... That's okay, I'll just sit here and cry silently to myself. No, no, I'm fine. Go on about your business, Miss Megann.
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