My yearly blog entry

So I'm sitting in the lovely state of North Carolina realizing that my life is a little ridiculous right now. And not in a good way. More in a I'm feeling a little bit like Alexis Bledel in Post Grad way. Which sucks because I hated that movie.

Only I don't even have the cute boy/friend, or the skeevy boyfriend, or the influx of failed job interviews. Because I haven't even been offered a job interview yet.

I do, however, have a great brother. And church once a week. So, you know, there's that.

Okay, yes. It sounds like I'm complaining. Which I guess I sort of am. But really, I'm just wondering how I can spend all yesterday researching appropriate positions at publishing houses, wake up early (well, before noon) to start penning my cover letters, and end up spending two hours researching MA programs in Mythology/Folklore. In California.

The question of the hour seems to be: do I apply for a job at B&N and start writing essays, or reach for the stars and hope a publishing house calls me back? Both options are equally unappealing at the moment, but seem wonderful in the realm of 6 months from now.

I feel especially adrift after reading Kate's wonderful blog about the joys of J-school at Mizzou (miss you, darling) and MC's bi-monthly rants on how difficult and fulfilling and hot masters programs are. In Texas. Guys, I really miss you. And all my other lovely ladies.

On a positive note, I'm on my 2nd day of Zumba dvds. Zero professional life=the inclination to do something positive with your out of shape keister. Dottie, I never fail to think of you and the Julianne whenever I wake up early to work out. Work, school, and a boyfriend, and you still made a date with her nearly every day. Thanks for being my internal motivation.

Now, let's see how many months it takes for someone to realize I finally blogged. Eventually I hope to work my posts up to once every equinox. The one in March should be full of happy springtime thoughts. You'll just have to deal with the dying-leaves drama for now.

Dear Everything Bad About the 90's

Stop invading the fashion industry.

Dear young women who profess fashion awareness,

I know this style is popular right now, but you look like a wrinkled, puffy trash bag. This isn't Derelicte. Please burn all offending items.

Dear Banana Republic,

I expected better of you.

Dear offendeding parties,

See express.com for examples of what 90's inspired winter-wear should look like. Because the website won't let me post its .gifs

Why Thank You, Irony

I'm pretty sure someone had fun coming up with these words:

sesquipedalianism \ses-kwi-PEED-l-iz-uhm\, adjective:

1. Given to using long words.
2. (Of a word) containing many syllables.

hippopotomonstrosesquipedaliophobia, noun:

Fear of long words.

Now that's just mean.

Cover This!

Yes, I never blog. Sorry, guys.

In other news, this year I've discovered how much I adore song covers. I used to hate them with a passion, but they're basically the most fun thing ever. I don't know what I was thinking. Exibit A:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9gW6yQZyx5w&

Silly embed won't work. You'll have to clicky

And this, which you'll have to click cause they've disabled imbedding:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pRmYfVCH2UA

Enjoy the fruits of my procrastination.

For My Beautiful Blonde Invalid

Since my roommate went away

I don't know how to face the day

But I know that she's in pain

So I'll try not to complain.

Last night I slept in Marie’s room

She helps to ward off the gloom

But it will creep back in soon

In Katelyn’s absence I find no boon.

Her surgery went really swell

Now her body won’t rebel

And even though she’s now unwell

Soon she will leap like a gazelle.

I hope that she’s not too hurt

To watch some Glee and laugh at Kurt

Or find a cute resident and get her flirt

On, even if she doesn’t have a skirt (On).

For now she can’t do the Hoedown Throwdown

But please, dear Katelyn, don’t frown

For soon enough you’ll dance around

Even if Asbury makes you skip town.

And now I’ll end this silly rhyme

Because I think it’s a lyrical crime

But remember, Katelyn, you’re really divine

And as for roomies—you’re all mine!

Inclement Weather Advisory

Today I missed class due to inclement weather. I shouldn't have. Fail all around.

The 'bury is trying out this newfangled text messaging system. It worked--I think. It could be that some random person is just texting weather advisory messages. But either way, when my phone beeped at 8:11 and I saw the words "one hour delay," I believed them.

Bad decision, Taylor.

When I got up at 9:15 (around when I generally leave for class) my dear Lola told me I'd been lied to. I checked the email, and she was right. "For non-essential personnel. Morning classes will run as normally scheduled."

Good one, Asbury.

So I'm rather annoyed. I like Dr. Strait's class. In fact, it's my favorite class. I want to be there soaking up highfalutin' ideas and pondering Shakespeare. Instead, I'm here blogging. Boo.

Of course, it was only a few minutes ago that I realized an hour delay wouldn't affect me at all since I don't actually have an 8am.

Why did they send the delay warning almost fifteen minutes after non-essential personnel would have left for work? And why send it to essential personnel (students are definitely an essential to a college running)? And why so vague?

Overall, fail for everyone. Myself included. Off to class thirty minutes late and looking like it.

Edit: The sky is crying death and misery. No fun. But Dr. Strait was cool, so I guess it all works out.

You Wanna Know Me?

I was cleaning out my documents folder and found a list of random things about myself. I'm pretty sure it was for one of those mass facebook notes I never responded to, but hey, it's still valid. Or is the word I'm looking for "egocentric?"

Random pointless things about Taylor:

1. I had no hair until the first grade. When I was a toddler my parents would dress me up in frilly pink things and take me to the store, and little old ladies would say, “Oh, what a cute boy you have!” Now my friends say I have goddess hair. I guess it's an even trade.

2. I have a Dasani addiction, but I'm pretty sure I'd be okay with Fuji, too.

3. I rode to the Capitol’s Fourth of July '07 in a Secret Service SUV. And met Elmo.

4. I used to have an imaginary raccoon named Tas (Tay-z) that would only come out during the nine hour car ride to my grandmother’s.

5. I took a nap in the back pew of the Cathedrale Notre Dame de Paris. There was a service going on, but I was just tired from a walking tour. I feel I should regret this, but I really don't.

6. My first memory is moving from Pennsylvania to Ohio when I was three. I tried to lug my suitcase down the stairs, tripped, tumbled, and got a bloody nose. My mom is convinced I don’t really remember, I’ve just heard the story often enough to delude myself. Does this mean all my memories of running unsupervised around the forest at age 4 are made up, too?

7. I never realized that I break my food into pieces before eating it until my friends lovingly started making fun of me for it.

8. I hate all vegetables except potatoes. And fake ones like corn and pumpkin.

9. Though I sometimes tear up, I have not actually cried since the seventh grade.

10. From grade 6 to grade 11, I wanted to be a fashion designer or a hairstylist.

11. My favorite snack is Pal’s cheddar rounds. I will wake up at 9 on a Saturday to eat them before breakfast closes.

12. Lost is the only TV show I’ve watched since the pilot. No longer true. I'm two season behind. Man, how old was that list? All the others I started in the 3^rd or 4^th season and, almost always, caught up on the previous seasons before the next week’s episode.

13. I’m a military brat, but not really.

14. I hate being the center of attention, but still like to be recognized.

15. When I laugh at my own jokes, it’s not because I think they’re clever. It’s because I’m asking myself, “Why the hell did I just say that?”

16. It takes me a ridiculously long time to get to know people.

17. I used to love animals. I would tag along to the animal shelter with my Mom, hold a kitten until I fell in love, and beg my mom to take it home. She always let me - I'm onto you, Mom, with your subterfuge pet adoption methods. It just took a few years. Now? I can't pet an animal without feeling like I need to wash my hands. Thanks, OCD.

18. I am ADD about my hobbies. I'll get really into read: become kinda obsessed with something, then drop it for something else. It makes me worry about my future career.

19. I will probably regret putting half of this in a blog. I really need a filter.

20. I LOVE my friends - because this belongs in every blog I write.