Don't worry. I'm not dead. I went home this weekend and didn't have time to post anything. Not that anyone reads this, so nobody would be there to worry.....
Anyhoozle, my "human rhinovirus" that I had ended up being more than your average cold. I had... THE FLU. I think. Apparently that jackass I got stuck working with had THE FLU and gave it to me. Anybody here at MSU that ate the pizza I made, watch out for THE FLU. I probably got THE FLU all over the pepperoni pizza you ungrateful bastards guzzle down. YES I SAID GUZZLE. Guzzle is the best word ever. Besides plethora. That is probably the best word in the world. By the way, if anyone actually decides to read this, shoot me a tweet with your favorite weird word! I am @MyNameIsTurtle. Or you could comment. That's cool, too. By the way, I tweet weird/quirky/somewhat entertaining stuff throughout the day. Also I tweet stuff about how easily distracted I can be, things that happen to me on a daily basis, and weird conversations I have with friends/family.
Last night, a friend of mine and I had the strangest conversation ever. It was approximately 1am and my roommate decided to go to bed, but I was still wide awake because I had had about 10 cups of coffee and I was ready for a long night of bouncing up and down on the balls of my feet. But I didn't bounce. At all. That's weird. FYI she calls me House because I'm the rude, sarcastic person in our friendship, and I call her Wilson because she is shorter than me. (Yes I am that mean.) This was our conversation:
Me: "HI WILSON!"
Her: "HI HOUSE!!!!! :]"
Me: "My face feels funny. I think it's my beard."
Her: "Umm... Katie? I just got this weird image of you with a beard."
Me: "Pretty sexy, eh?"
Her: "It's kind of creepy.... What's it like having a beard?"
Me: "I have no idea."
Her: "It's probably like a forest! All itchy and stuff."
Me: "What?! How is a forest itchy?"
Her: "If all those trees and foliage were growing on your face you'd be itchy lol"
Me: "This is like talking to a 5-year old.... But growing trees on your face... you'd be crushed."
Her: "Mini ones! Point is! Facial hair is probably itchy!"
Me: "Your metaphor is too strange. I'm going to ask my guy friends if having facial hair is like having a miniature forest on their face."
Her: "YES. We need a full report!"
Then our conversation continued on for quite a while, but I am not re-typing it. The point is, we want to know what having a beard is like without having to inject ourselves with ridiculous amounts of testosterone. I approached some guy I barely know in class today and asked him what having a beard is like and that I would give him a stick of gum if he answered (if it isn't creepy enough that I asked what having facial hair is like). He told me it was itchy and that it made his face feel dirty. Another guy friend told me that it didn't feel like anything really, but if it rubbed against your neck it felt like a Brillo pad. I know that already! I've touched beards before! (That sounded awkward.) But I want to know what it feels like ON YOUR FACE WHERE IT IS GROWING. If you have a really bitchin' beard, comment and let me know! I'd send you a present, but I'm a dirt-poor college kid.
KTHXBAI
**EDIT** I just texted a friend of mine and we determined that having facial hair is like growing a shrub on your face. Then I molested his face through the phone. It was yet another strange conversation.
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Saturday, September 17, 2011
I'm Dying a Little Bit
I'm in a bit of a hurry, but I decided to blog today anyway.
So I'm actually quite sick. On Thursday at work, this guy I was working with had a cold and cough, and it was really grossing me out. I got back to my dorm and of course, as usual, I managed to get his cold. On top of it, my dorm is about -100000000 degrees in here (I can't even feel my fingers!) and I haven't slept a decent night's sleep in more than a month. I had to get up for work at 5am yesterday and I had been on the move since. I had slept less than 3 hours on Thursday night. Fellow MSU students call Thursday nights "Thirsty Thursdays" because it's like $2 beer pitchers at some bar or whatever. I don't really care. However, pretty much everyone on my floor decided that Thirsty Thursdays are really cool and decided to make noise until about 3am even though there is still such a thing as Friday classes. Everyone knows about Thirsty Thursdays, including professors. I showed up to my classes exhausted because I had gotten off a four hour early morning shift while being quite sick. I'm pretty sure my Calculus professor thought I was hung over. I looked hung over. I had just taken cold medicine on an empty stomach and was quite nauseated and I was sitting there holding my throbbing head so I didn't pass out. My prof just kept giving me these inexplicably weird looks as if I had just done laundry including being in the washer/dryer with my clothes and the static cling from the drier made a thong stick to my hair. That didn't happen. I know because I ran my fingers through my hair to make sure there wasn't any sort of underwear there and there wasn't. Then when he dismissed us, I basically sprinted from my class to my dorm and puked my guts out like it was my job.
Also, my Chemistry professor might think I showed up to class high, which is kind of funny because I don't do anything like that ever. My eyes looked swollen and reddish from puking (I had burst a blood vessel) and I was so tired that I was loopy and spacing out. I think I might have been swaying in my seat. It didn't help that I was wearing plaid neon pink, red, and yellow pajama pants. So I looked pretty weird. She kept glancing at me out of the corner of her eye like if she looked at me directly she might explode into a swirling vortex of brightly colored feathers. After class I went to her office hours to ask her a few questions, but there were other people there that beat me to the same questions I wanted to ask, so I just stood in the corner writing stuff in my notebook while she occasionally looked at me like she had no clue why I even showed up.
Anyway, I have decided to trap myself in my dorm room until all of my homework is completed. I have a whole lot, so it looks like food isn't going to happen for the next 2 days or so.... Oh well. Shit happens, right? Ok, well shit happens to me a whole lot. Happy Saturday to those who aren't dying from Human Rhinovirus. Yes, I'm a dork. Shut up.
So I'm actually quite sick. On Thursday at work, this guy I was working with had a cold and cough, and it was really grossing me out. I got back to my dorm and of course, as usual, I managed to get his cold. On top of it, my dorm is about -100000000 degrees in here (I can't even feel my fingers!) and I haven't slept a decent night's sleep in more than a month. I had to get up for work at 5am yesterday and I had been on the move since. I had slept less than 3 hours on Thursday night. Fellow MSU students call Thursday nights "Thirsty Thursdays" because it's like $2 beer pitchers at some bar or whatever. I don't really care. However, pretty much everyone on my floor decided that Thirsty Thursdays are really cool and decided to make noise until about 3am even though there is still such a thing as Friday classes. Everyone knows about Thirsty Thursdays, including professors. I showed up to my classes exhausted because I had gotten off a four hour early morning shift while being quite sick. I'm pretty sure my Calculus professor thought I was hung over. I looked hung over. I had just taken cold medicine on an empty stomach and was quite nauseated and I was sitting there holding my throbbing head so I didn't pass out. My prof just kept giving me these inexplicably weird looks as if I had just done laundry including being in the washer/dryer with my clothes and the static cling from the drier made a thong stick to my hair. That didn't happen. I know because I ran my fingers through my hair to make sure there wasn't any sort of underwear there and there wasn't. Then when he dismissed us, I basically sprinted from my class to my dorm and puked my guts out like it was my job.
Also, my Chemistry professor might think I showed up to class high, which is kind of funny because I don't do anything like that ever. My eyes looked swollen and reddish from puking (I had burst a blood vessel) and I was so tired that I was loopy and spacing out. I think I might have been swaying in my seat. It didn't help that I was wearing plaid neon pink, red, and yellow pajama pants. So I looked pretty weird. She kept glancing at me out of the corner of her eye like if she looked at me directly she might explode into a swirling vortex of brightly colored feathers. After class I went to her office hours to ask her a few questions, but there were other people there that beat me to the same questions I wanted to ask, so I just stood in the corner writing stuff in my notebook while she occasionally looked at me like she had no clue why I even showed up.
Anyway, I have decided to trap myself in my dorm room until all of my homework is completed. I have a whole lot, so it looks like food isn't going to happen for the next 2 days or so.... Oh well. Shit happens, right? Ok, well shit happens to me a whole lot. Happy Saturday to those who aren't dying from Human Rhinovirus. Yes, I'm a dork. Shut up.
Saturday, September 10, 2011
I'm Going to Start Writing Every Saturday Unless I Find Something Else That Needs To Be Done
Ok. Was that not the longest title for a blog post in the world? I'm pretty sure it was.
I basically have no social life outside of my old job, and I am approximately 100 miles away from there, so my Saturdays are generally pretty boring. Don't get me wrong! I love not having anything to do on a Saturday. I'm exploding with joy right now because I get to write up a Chemistry lab report because I procrastinate. A lot.
I don't even think anyone realizes how hard it is for me to not make jokes in my lab report about how my Learning Assistant (LA) can't spell "pipette" worth shit. It is spelled just how it sounds, but they still managed to spell it like "pipet." What the hell is a pipet??? It sounds like a retarded French guy trying to say puppet or a frog with a speech impediment.
Anyhoo, I decided to do this every Saturday unless I find something better to do with my time. I decided on Saturday for the following reasons:
1) Generally nothing better to do on Saturdays
2) It's the only day of the week I don't have classes... besides Sundays. But I want to relax and watch House on Sundays, so screw anyone who might read this and think, "Why not Sundays? It's more convenient for me!" You asshats can read this on Sunday or after if you want.
3) I like cupcakes.
Yes I realize that #3 has nothing to do with anything, but shut up. Cupcakes are awesome.
I have no idea where this post is going, so I'm just going to end it really abruptly.
I basically have no social life outside of my old job, and I am approximately 100 miles away from there, so my Saturdays are generally pretty boring. Don't get me wrong! I love not having anything to do on a Saturday. I'm exploding with joy right now because I get to write up a Chemistry lab report because I procrastinate. A lot.
I don't even think anyone realizes how hard it is for me to not make jokes in my lab report about how my Learning Assistant (LA) can't spell "pipette" worth shit. It is spelled just how it sounds, but they still managed to spell it like "pipet." What the hell is a pipet??? It sounds like a retarded French guy trying to say puppet or a frog with a speech impediment.
Anyhoo, I decided to do this every Saturday unless I find something better to do with my time. I decided on Saturday for the following reasons:
1) Generally nothing better to do on Saturdays
2) It's the only day of the week I don't have classes... besides Sundays. But I want to relax and watch House on Sundays, so screw anyone who might read this and think, "Why not Sundays? It's more convenient for me!" You asshats can read this on Sunday or after if you want.
3) I like cupcakes.
Yes I realize that #3 has nothing to do with anything, but shut up. Cupcakes are awesome.
I have no idea where this post is going, so I'm just going to end it really abruptly.
Thursday, September 8, 2011
My Blog Name and its Origin
So my name that I guess I'm calling myself is The Turtle Lady. There are no obvious reasons why. I don't own a turtle, nor do I look or smell like one. Actually... that's kind of a terrifying thought. What if I do smell like a turtle and I just don't know it??? That's one of my biggest fears! You know how there are certain people in this world that just smell awful and don't seem to realize it because they don't ever do anything about it? What if I am one of those strangely repulsive-scented people??? It would explain my lack of boyfriend....
Anyway, enough with my paranoid ranting. That is not why I call myself Turtle. For some reason, whenever I have heard my last name, I have always thought of a turtle lying helplessly on its back trying to get back upright. My last name has nothing to do with turtles, wriggling, or movement of any kind, so I have no clue where that association came from, but it is the first thing that comes to mind, and it is the first thing that has come to mind since I was a young child.
To begin with the story, I must explain the reason why I have always taken in too much caffeine. When I was about 4 years old, my dad used to take my brother and me to a doughnut place every Sunday morning so my mom could have a break from us and sleep in. That was until the doughnut store was robbed and the owner was shot and killed. Now the doughnut place is an AT&T store. But that's another story for another time. As I was saying, I asked my dad if I could have a sip of his coffee because I was curious as to why people drank something that looked like hot diet coke. (I don't know why I thought it would taste like warm diet coke. I guess it's because that was the only soda in my house throughout my childhood.) My dad expected me to absolutely hate it, but he let me try some because he wanted to turn me off of coffee for the rest of my life. (He did the same with beer. That one actually worked.) I took a sip of his coffee. It was like.... scorching hot unicorn piss. I stole another sip. And another. Eventually my dad had to pry his coffee mug from my grubby little hands so I didn't drink it all and my mom wouldn't have to deal with a caffeinated 4-year-old. I was not allowed coffee again until I turned 12. Since then, I have steadily increased my caffeine intake, and now I drink about 4 cups of coffee per day.
So... in my junior year of high school, I was having a bad morning. I am NOT a morning person by any means, and I always sleep through my alarm at least twice per week. That one day was one of those mornings. I had coffee waiting for me downstairs, and I needed an extra pick-me-up that morning, so I drank about 6 cups. By my 3rd hour English class with one of my favorite teachers EVER, Mr. P., I was ready to bounce off the walls. I sat in my seat babbling away to a friend of mine about how weird words sound sometimes, and then I got to my last name. Peabody. My rant sounded like, "Ohmigawd what's with my name??? NO. DON'T ANSWER THAT. It reminds me of a turtle. Turtles are cool. I want one. MR. P!!!! DO YOU LIKE TURTLES!!!!" and then I pulled out my sketchbook and drew a full page of turtles doing random things, such as eating lettuce, dancing, sleeping, etc. I showed my teacher, and he called me a turtle because he's cool like that. Since then, he has called me Turtle. So have several of my friends that are my own age. So in reality, my blog name has nothing to do with turtles, and it has everything to do with my insane caffeine intake.
Anyway, enough with my paranoid ranting. That is not why I call myself Turtle. For some reason, whenever I have heard my last name, I have always thought of a turtle lying helplessly on its back trying to get back upright. My last name has nothing to do with turtles, wriggling, or movement of any kind, so I have no clue where that association came from, but it is the first thing that comes to mind, and it is the first thing that has come to mind since I was a young child.
To begin with the story, I must explain the reason why I have always taken in too much caffeine. When I was about 4 years old, my dad used to take my brother and me to a doughnut place every Sunday morning so my mom could have a break from us and sleep in. That was until the doughnut store was robbed and the owner was shot and killed. Now the doughnut place is an AT&T store. But that's another story for another time. As I was saying, I asked my dad if I could have a sip of his coffee because I was curious as to why people drank something that looked like hot diet coke. (I don't know why I thought it would taste like warm diet coke. I guess it's because that was the only soda in my house throughout my childhood.) My dad expected me to absolutely hate it, but he let me try some because he wanted to turn me off of coffee for the rest of my life. (He did the same with beer. That one actually worked.) I took a sip of his coffee. It was like.... scorching hot unicorn piss. I stole another sip. And another. Eventually my dad had to pry his coffee mug from my grubby little hands so I didn't drink it all and my mom wouldn't have to deal with a caffeinated 4-year-old. I was not allowed coffee again until I turned 12. Since then, I have steadily increased my caffeine intake, and now I drink about 4 cups of coffee per day.
So... in my junior year of high school, I was having a bad morning. I am NOT a morning person by any means, and I always sleep through my alarm at least twice per week. That one day was one of those mornings. I had coffee waiting for me downstairs, and I needed an extra pick-me-up that morning, so I drank about 6 cups. By my 3rd hour English class with one of my favorite teachers EVER, Mr. P., I was ready to bounce off the walls. I sat in my seat babbling away to a friend of mine about how weird words sound sometimes, and then I got to my last name. Peabody. My rant sounded like, "Ohmigawd what's with my name??? NO. DON'T ANSWER THAT. It reminds me of a turtle. Turtles are cool. I want one. MR. P!!!! DO YOU LIKE TURTLES!!!!" and then I pulled out my sketchbook and drew a full page of turtles doing random things, such as eating lettuce, dancing, sleeping, etc. I showed my teacher, and he called me a turtle because he's cool like that. Since then, he has called me Turtle. So have several of my friends that are my own age. So in reality, my blog name has nothing to do with turtles, and it has everything to do with my insane caffeine intake.
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