I’ve forgotten how to spell. (and other adventures)


I’ve forgotten how to spell because my computer/cell phone/mini me robot does it for me. I actually spent a solid three minutes contemplating the spelling of the world “aerial” while working on a presentation today.

It makes people really uncomfortable when they joke about me selling them my first born and I respond me, “I’m never having kids.” Awkward, B, awkward. When your boss asks you to sign a confidentiality waiver and jokes that it’s about selling your first born, don’t ever respond “I’m not having kids.” again. Thanks.

When I order textbooks on Amazon, I usually throw in an inexpensive book from my wish list so that there’s actual joy in my heart when I open that box from Amazon…instead of the sheer terror I feel. (This is the same terror that comes with being handed a semesters syllabus.)

There are a total of 3 human beings who have so far told me that they think my next tat idea is cool. (I haven’t told many people) Other responses have been, “I don’t get it.” and “Why?” followed by “No offense.” A classmate (in grad school, are we colleagues?) spent the better part of ten minutes before class convincing me to get a tat with him this weekend. I’ll keep you posted.

My bed is unmade and this blog entry is no where near complete. I definitely can’t start my homework yet.

While I was sitting at a traffic light with my windows rolled down today, I noticed that I was not sweating profoundly. Fall is coming.

I think that if you haven’t heard the Of Monsters and Men album, you should definitely listen to it. This is a personal opinion, because I’ve been listening to them non-stop and I’m really enjoying it. “Dirty Paws” is especially enjoyable.

I walked into the lab in the dance building today because the Macs have giant screens and it’s easier to open all the things if I use a huge monitor, and I was humming to myself. I didn’t realize that there was another person in there. She finally said hello after about two minutes of my humming.

According to this article, you should (not) date a writer. hmm. I don’t know what he’s getting at, but it’s probably true.

If I were an iPod cord, where would I be?

love, B

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