OH NO

There is a reason why I'm putting a bunch of random pictures up. I'll explain someday
I Like tuttles.I will be here in 3 months. That's a coral reef. I like tuttles
I also like this guy.And this guy. But not his mustache.

Watch this. It's funny even if you don't know who Petter Northug is.
http://www.johnnyklister.com/post/537156662/petter-northug-can-cure-cancer-viamb


Beaver says HELLOOOOOOOOOOOOO

ok time to get my laundry and sleep.

I think this is appropriate: an email I received 3 minutes ago.

Share your experience with the world!

Share your study abroad experience by applying to be an IFSA-Butler blogger! We will select at least one student per country to keep a blog that will be featured on our Web site (www.ifsa-butler.org). By writing about your experiences, not only will you have a record of your study abroad experience to share with your family and friends, but you will also give other students a glimpse into what life is like as an international student.

Being a blogger is a great resume builder! We also give preference to past bloggers for our ambassador program (http://community.ifsa-butler.org/group/ifsaglobalambassadors), in which former students are paid to represent IFSA-Butler on their home campuses.

If you are interested in having your own blog on our Web site while you’re abroad please reply to me by April 30 with a brief explanation of why you would be a good blogger. If you currently maintain a personal blog, please also include the link(s). I will pass your information along to our blogger selection committee for review. You will be contacted by the selection committee only if you have been chosen as a blogger.

For more information, see the attached document. Let me know if you have any questions!

Cheers,

Rachael

I don't think they're ready for my blogging skills. I will probably not send them the link to PTPC (Pleather Turquoise Phlebotomy Chair).

PS I should def put this on my resume pause NOT

Still mono free--what a relief for hughsy!

Oh whoa. someone just kicked in our door again. WHOA. emergency carpenter is on his way. Again, really really sucks to be that guy. Atleast I get to meet him this time. Perhaps I should ask him how he got into this wonderful profession. Maybe he'll be a hottie and sweep me off my feet and whisk me off to woodland where carpenters flourish (no pun/innuendo intended). Just like my new hottie, Hugh Dancy. Can you say mmm mmm good. Also, my awesome neighbors are playing weird ukelele music, which my roommate says is actually "Beruit good music." Whatever the balls that means. Now they're playing the Allman Brothers. Such weird music choices for 1:30am on a Saturday night...or Sunday morning I suppose. I just really love all the characters that I share an education with. Oh did you know that our perpetrators were wearing tuxedos? Classy bitches. In the most literal sense. Kinda like the tuxedo that my lover (Hugh Dancy if you haven't figured that out by now) was wearing in Confessions of a Shopaholic, which I watched this evening before all this grand excitement. It's a great movie, contrary to what your movie instincts are telling you. I mean there's a mega hottie in it, and he wears great clothes. And bam. Blockbuster success by my standards--which are sky high, btdubz. You know what isn't such a great thing to watch? The recording of my Brahms concert. I got through about 2 minutes before I had to shut it off. And part of that two minutes I had to leave the room to put sweatpants on because I couldn't bear listening to myself tune. Perhaps I have a problem? I wouldn't say it's low self esteem as much as it is hating watch my arms shake when I vibrate (again, don't take that sexually). Don't worry, I'll be able to watch it all the way through in a year...or 5. Maybe I'll let my kids watch it. I'll say, "look young Skogan, that was mommy when she didn't have the money to look like the trophy wife that she is now because she married your daddy. Also, I'm way way more talented now, like, DUH." Trophy wives have to sound dumb, duh. Just kidding. I'm not actually going to marry up, like I make people believe, unless of course Dan becomes some sort of -illionare. But my son will be named Skogan--or daughter. Please, it's a great name. Don't even try to deny it, gypsy. I picked that up from Rainer. He calls me gypsy atleast 3x a day. But it's ok because Esmeralda from the Hunchback of Notre Dame was a gypsy, and she was an animated hottie; therefore, I'm a hottie that everyone loves. That's why I'm dating Hugh Dancy. Did I mention he's British? It just keeps getting better huh? Well I'm a little tired of waiting for this dang carpenter, and honestly I'm too tired to interrogate him on his life choices. I mean, he could be a hottie, and I could be missing out, but my beauty sleep is just too valuable. Goodnight love bugs.

Yepz

Okay so i really really really dont have anything to write. i have ten million papers to write... which sucks balls. so i've been doing that. and when i'm not doing that, i'm sitting on my ass staring at a wall, not thinking of writing on bloggie. and also, not doing anything kind of makes it hard to have anything to actually write about in general. right now i'm sitting in my psych lab being super bored and avoiding an 8 page paper on the Mexican independencia. fuck my life. only 3ish weeks of school left thank god. then i plan on writing an epic blog post. i'm also writing a long story about my sex life and when it's more complete i plan on letting you all know where to find it. crap. have to work.

When I grow up, I want to be an emergency carpenter

There's a nice breeze coming into my window right now. I think I shall shut the window, because my arms are getting goosebumps. Why do they call them that? Is it because goose skin is bumpy? As I was contemplating that, I shut the window. Guess what was right outside my window? No, not a creepy creeper face, but a lamp. Apparently my awesome neighbors threw an awesome "let's throw lamps out the window" party this weekend. Too bad I was in B-town (Bangor) this weekend watching Wisconsin lose to a bunch of JOB pussies and skiing on mud lakes, and I missed it. Who knew that mud skiing would be way more fun than water skiing? much less snow skiing. Anyway, apparently the S Brunswick block goes loco when I leave for B-town. My awesome neighbors also kicked my door in, and security had to call an emergency carpenter at midnight to fix it so no creepy creepers would come in and steal my nutella or my slippers.
First question: since when have carpenters been oncall? I mean really, how often do doors need to be fixed or cradles built or tables enlarged at random hours of the night. I feel real bad for that dude. He probs had no idea what he was signing up for when he chose to be an "emergency carpenter." He probs thought, "hey, maybe being an emergency carpenter means that in times of turmoil, like being on a plane that has faulty landing gear, I have to quick build some wheely apparatus to land the plane safe and sound OR when Big Papi breaks a bat in the middle of a big game, I have to quick make him a new bat." Yeah not so much. Dude, you have to fix things that awesome college neighbors break in their belligerent drunkness--like doors. LAME.
Second question: who knew that these bamf doors could be kicked in by awesome drunken neighbors? Really, these are like vault doors. Heavy and just really badass. But apparently not so much. I mean, when Wilson, my mono infested friend, threatened to infect me after kicking in my door and spitting on my toothbrush, I laughed. He probs weighs less than I do, and there is no way in hell he could kick in my bamf door that protects me at all times. Well, let's just say my awesome neighbors proved me wrong. If I get mono, I will never talk to Wilson again. I'm going to go throw my toothbrush out now. I've had this toothbrush for 3 months anyway, and apparently I'm suppose to throw out my toothbrush out after 3 months, according to Grace. Who knew? This is just a day of knowledge!
Today is Emma's birthday. I feel like everyone who reads this blog knows lemma, so I can say that. Happy birthday lemma. Year 19 of life is pretty lame, but I'm sure you'll enjoy it anyway. Looking back on my 19th year of life, I think I can say I accomplished some relatively cool things--like getting my door kicked in or becoming Lemma's friend. I also realized that ducktape is a great way to patch pants, even if it is red. This morning I found out that trying to cut up waterbottles usually ends up with broken scissors. Good thing I hid them under a stack of papers, so Chantal will never know, and I'll just buy her a new pair of shitty pink scissors. For realz, what kind of scissors cant cut up plastic? Gosh... Let's get real scissor makers. Maybe I should have an emergency carpenter come in and fix that shit.

So right now I should be reading or working on a lab report about clams and lobsters or putting away my laundry from last week. Whatever. Responsibility is way overrated. This post has been all words and no pictures, and everyone likes pictures way more than words, so I will leave you with this:

BEST PICTURE EVER. Q: What the balls is on my head? A: probs a pink ferret

PS I used "probs" 4 times in this post (5 including this one). Don't be annoyed. I knew it was happening.

4 Minutes.

I have to leave in 4 minutes, but i just wanted you to know that i WILL be updating later, i know i know i'm a bad blogger. but i promise i will later. i had to talk about my new haircut. so i needed a haircut and karen said she could do it... and she did... and now i'm not so sure of the outcome. i think i kinda look like demitri martin when it's curled under, and when it's curled out i kinda look like farah fawcett. inputs? blaggin laterrrz

OMG

So I just realized that I got a really bad grade on a TAKE HOME quiz because I'm a freaking idiot and didn't answer two of the questions. I was so flabbergasted as to why I did so badly, then I looked through it just now and realized that it's not because I'm a dumbass, it's because I'm a complete dumbass. Now that I'm all pissed off at myself, I can't imagine I'll be able to fall asleep. Nobody's online (since it is 1:45am), Nate won't respond to my skype calls, Nate is bored and wants us to update the blog, so I decided to blog. Nate also said that the blog has been super depressing lately, which is completely accurate, so I'll try not to dwell on my idiocy for too long. I'm an idiot. Ok, I'm done now.

Well I just returned from a rather eventful spring break. Some highlights would include drinking Beck's at sugarloaf and downing a bag burger, drinking white russians with Lemma's dad, drinking legally in Canada, and drinking Baileys. Ok so that was the alcoholic in me talking. Some real highlights were seeing Penguins at the biodome, going clubbing for the first time ever, eating poutine at 3am (gross), ordering that poutine almost entirely in French--and I've only had 1 quarter of French and that was in 7th grade! great success--I also watched almost an entire season of scrubs in the comfort of my own bed, memory foam and all. Michelle so graciously pointed me out to Matt Macone at UMaine, so I had a substantially awkard convo. I had a radio interview on MPR. And if you already know this because you're cool and listen to MPR on a regular basis, Susan Nance has probably the sexiest voice ever. I'm pretty sure if I had her voice, rpattz would be my boyfriend, and instead of me making him talk incessantly I could hear his sexy British accent, he would shut the hell up and make me talk dirty to him always. If only........I also had a big concert with this big violinist. She was actually quite small--like size 5 feet--but she was BIG as in she graduated from Julliard and then got her masters from Julliard and then debuted in Carnegie hall...yeah, BIG. Her name was Kinga, which is like kangaroo or pongo or something, and she was polish, so she also had a wicked accent. cool shit. I'm kinda overtired so I'm not going to go into it more.
Today I had to kill a lobster, which was terrible because I hate killing lobsters. It's the main reason why I don't eat them. Oh here's a funny story:
So we went out to eat after my concert, and by we I mean me, my parents, and my uncle. We went out at 8, so we were all really overtired (like I am now), and then the adults started drinking. By the time dessert rolled around, my uncle was a tad bit tipsy. The waiter (who had an abnormally high pitched voice...odd) came by, took our order for a Boca Negra (which means black mouth if you were wondering. It was a chocolate torte thing--chocolate in your mouth: black mouth. Get it? nobody else does). So the adults were all giddy for the cake. At this point I didn't give a shit about anything except sleeping. The waiter then came by again and said they just sold the last piece of Boca Negra, to which my uncle responded, "Oh I knew it! I heard her ordering it, and I thought OH SHIT, that's the last piece. That little bitch." The waiter just kinda left, then the head waiter or something came over and told us they "found" another piece of Boca Negra. And all was happy. Except me, I was fucking tired. Nonetheless, it was hilarious. Also, if you want anything in life, just swear in really inappropriate situations or be drunk. My family is crazy. And that's why I am going to Hawaii with them...not because I lost my job or anything. Here's a pic of Hawaii. This is for me, so that I can forget about how much of a depressing idiot I am. OK THAT'S THE END of the negative nanciness. I promise. Just look and enjoy.