Great news kidds: I'm graduating. Mind you, this mostly means that I will be finding a sturdy cardboard box to live in as I pay off a lifetime of student loans because I can't find a frickin' job. Only kidding about the box, I'll actually be living with my parents for a while, which is just as sad of an option, except it's warmer and I get free food.
For the most part, I'm pretty excited about graduation. The way I see it, it's my opportunity to force my parents to sit in a hot, crowded auditorium so they can properly acknowledge how smart I am. I'm VERY smart. I have honors chords to prove it, because clearly what matters in life is not what you have actually learned, but the records that prove you learned it better than 90 percent of your graduating class.
But yesterday, when I went to pick up my cap and gown, the ceremonial aspect of graduating lost a bit of its luster. First of all, who was in charge of designing the attire for commencement ceremonies?! I look ridiculous. This may or may not be due to the fact that the cap and gown company assumes anyone who is six feet tall also weighs 300 pounds - I'm can practically go for a swim in my gown. The trusty "one-size-fits-all" cap is the biggest lie in America. It does not fit all. It's barely big enough to fit around my fat head. Once I squeeze it on, it's a matter of not making any sudden movements, or else the elastic slides off my head in a swift motion, making it appear as though my cap is actually trying to escape.
To top it all off, my gown (which is only a rental) smells like vinegar. So I get to look ridiculous and smell weird while my family snaps hundreds of photos that they will treasure forever. Awesome.
Stupid attire aside, I am quite thrilled to be done with school. But as previously mentioned, I have not yet found a job. I'm sure the glory of freedom will get old the minute my bank account hits zero. But seeing as I will officially be an unemployed burden to society, that only means I'll have more time to blog. Lucky you.
Showing posts with label Becca. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Becca. Show all posts
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Sunday, November 8, 2009
The quiz taking must end NOW
I’ll be the first person to tell you that Facebook is an excellent way to waste time. In fact, whenever I have a test to study for, a paper to write or basically any other productive task to take care of, you’ll probably find me perusing the addictive website. It truly is the finest procrastination tool around.
Here is the problem: some people have a little too much time on their hands, and some people abuse Facebook’s time-wasting qualities. I’m looking at you, obsessive quiz takers. Thanks to my handy dandy news feed, I know way too much about Bob Whats-his-face (who went to my high school and never actually talked to me, but still felt the need to request me as a friend anyways).
Because good ol’ Bob took the time to take every Facebook quiz ever created, I now know that he will get married when he’s 25, have 2.5 kids and will die at age 55 due to a tragic hot dog incident. Oh, I also know that if her were a Beatle, he’d be Ringo. Bummer on the quiz results, dude. Everyone knows that Ringo was the least cool member.
Then there are the people who decide to take unnecessary quizzes like “what is your favorite alcoholic drink?” or “what is your favorite color?” Don’t you already know the answers to these questions? If you need to take a quiz to determine what your opinion on a beverage is, you shouldn’t be allowed to operate a computer… and don’t even get me started on the people who took the “what is your eye color” quiz. Seriously, buy a mirror, figure it out for yourself, and save some space on my news feed for more relevant updates so I can stalk people properly.
Here is the problem: some people have a little too much time on their hands, and some people abuse Facebook’s time-wasting qualities. I’m looking at you, obsessive quiz takers. Thanks to my handy dandy news feed, I know way too much about Bob Whats-his-face (who went to my high school and never actually talked to me, but still felt the need to request me as a friend anyways).
Because good ol’ Bob took the time to take every Facebook quiz ever created, I now know that he will get married when he’s 25, have 2.5 kids and will die at age 55 due to a tragic hot dog incident. Oh, I also know that if her were a Beatle, he’d be Ringo. Bummer on the quiz results, dude. Everyone knows that Ringo was the least cool member.
Then there are the people who decide to take unnecessary quizzes like “what is your favorite alcoholic drink?” or “what is your favorite color?” Don’t you already know the answers to these questions? If you need to take a quiz to determine what your opinion on a beverage is, you shouldn’t be allowed to operate a computer… and don’t even get me started on the people who took the “what is your eye color” quiz. Seriously, buy a mirror, figure it out for yourself, and save some space on my news feed for more relevant updates so I can stalk people properly.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
No, I don't have a minute...
Do you have a minute to talk about Jesus? No? Me neither.
Yet every time I set foot on campus, I’m repeatedly stopped by people with surveys and a mission to spread the word of the lord. The worst part is that they totally trick you into it. There is one girl in particular who has stopped me multiple times. She says, “excuse me, can I ask you a question?” I used to assume, “oh, perhaps she wants to know the time, or maybe how to get to a specific building.” But, no, the minute I admit I have a little time on my hands she launches into her questions about religion and then offers to save my soul. It’s too late to back out of the conversation without it being awkward, so I’m stuck talking to a stranger for 15 minutes.
Don’t get me wrong. These religious tricksters aren’t the only offenders. Campus is swarming with canvassers who want to save the environment, save the children, or promote whatever other cliché political cause one might choose to support. The only difference is that these people are armed with big, noticeable clip boards. However, this doesn’t make them any easier to avoid. They are simply more aggressive. I swear they can get you to make eye contact from a mile away, no matter how hard you try to pretend that you are typing a text message on your cell phone.
It’s not that I don’t care about Jesus, the environment or the starving children in Africa. I do, sort of. I just don’t have the time to fill out a survey or sign a petition. If you ever run into me on campus, chances are I’m 10 minutes late to something—work, school, study groups etc. I don’t mean to be rude. I’m just trying to get to English class on time. My professor is tired of my chronic tardiness. But just to clarify, I don’t want to join your church either.
Yet every time I set foot on campus, I’m repeatedly stopped by people with surveys and a mission to spread the word of the lord. The worst part is that they totally trick you into it. There is one girl in particular who has stopped me multiple times. She says, “excuse me, can I ask you a question?” I used to assume, “oh, perhaps she wants to know the time, or maybe how to get to a specific building.” But, no, the minute I admit I have a little time on my hands she launches into her questions about religion and then offers to save my soul. It’s too late to back out of the conversation without it being awkward, so I’m stuck talking to a stranger for 15 minutes.
Don’t get me wrong. These religious tricksters aren’t the only offenders. Campus is swarming with canvassers who want to save the environment, save the children, or promote whatever other cliché political cause one might choose to support. The only difference is that these people are armed with big, noticeable clip boards. However, this doesn’t make them any easier to avoid. They are simply more aggressive. I swear they can get you to make eye contact from a mile away, no matter how hard you try to pretend that you are typing a text message on your cell phone.
It’s not that I don’t care about Jesus, the environment or the starving children in Africa. I do, sort of. I just don’t have the time to fill out a survey or sign a petition. If you ever run into me on campus, chances are I’m 10 minutes late to something—work, school, study groups etc. I don’t mean to be rude. I’m just trying to get to English class on time. My professor is tired of my chronic tardiness. But just to clarify, I don’t want to join your church either.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Your bike may save the earth, but I still hate you
I’m sure this is a problem at a lot of colleges, especially in Colorado. Coloradoans love bicycles. College students love them even more. Add in the fact that my college is launching a huge "go green" campaign, and we’ve got ourselves a full blown cyclist over-population.
Yeah, I get it—they provide a form of exercise, save money on gas and save the precious earth. Those reasons are all well and good, but bike riders provide me with a very annoying, sometimes dangerous, trip to class.
When bikers ride on the street, they seem to ignore practically every traffic law. Apparently, if you are on two wheels, the big red stop signs on street corners are optional. Once your butt touches that banana seat, that sign that once read “STOP,” now says “STOP… if it’s convenient. Ride onward you crazy biker, ride onward!”
Then they get to campus and decide to make the sidewalk their territory. Yes, there are signs everywhere that say “Yield to pedestrians,” but once again, these signs must be displaying a different message to bike riders. I assume they see something along the lines of “Please wiz through the crowd of pedestrians at your leisure—ten points if you clip one with your handlebars.”
Of course, bike riders do provide a source of entertainment from time to time. Eventually, you will see some poor sucker eat it on their beloved bicycle. If you’re really lucky, you might just see them collide with another bike, or even better, a long boarder (don’t even get me started on long boarders).
One time, I saw a guy skid on his bike and hit a retaining wall. It remains one of my fondest memories of college. For the record, I watched to make sure he was OK before I burst out in laughter, so I still consider myself a good person.
Yeah, I get it—they provide a form of exercise, save money on gas and save the precious earth. Those reasons are all well and good, but bike riders provide me with a very annoying, sometimes dangerous, trip to class.
When bikers ride on the street, they seem to ignore practically every traffic law. Apparently, if you are on two wheels, the big red stop signs on street corners are optional. Once your butt touches that banana seat, that sign that once read “STOP,” now says “STOP… if it’s convenient. Ride onward you crazy biker, ride onward!”
Then they get to campus and decide to make the sidewalk their territory. Yes, there are signs everywhere that say “Yield to pedestrians,” but once again, these signs must be displaying a different message to bike riders. I assume they see something along the lines of “Please wiz through the crowd of pedestrians at your leisure—ten points if you clip one with your handlebars.”
Of course, bike riders do provide a source of entertainment from time to time. Eventually, you will see some poor sucker eat it on their beloved bicycle. If you’re really lucky, you might just see them collide with another bike, or even better, a long boarder (don’t even get me started on long boarders).
One time, I saw a guy skid on his bike and hit a retaining wall. It remains one of my fondest memories of college. For the record, I watched to make sure he was OK before I burst out in laughter, so I still consider myself a good person.
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