So, in January I got my ears pierced. The Claire's lady marveled and asked "How have you gone 18 years without getting your ears pierced?" To which I responded: Fear. A deep, terrifying fear of things like needles and pain.
Then she laughed at me when she asked for my ID and I handed her my Driver's Permit.
I still don't have my licence.
And, apparently, I'm the last person in my graduating class to not have one.
I still really, really, really suck at driving. But my driving skillz are not the point of this blog post.
Anyway. So I love wearing earrings. For a while it was a pain to change them, because it HURTS when you don't do it right. Like, it has to go in perfectly straight, and if you hit the side of the hole it STINGS. And sometimes, it BLEEDS.
But now it's all good. Mostly.
Claire's had a big promotion before school started, buy 2 get 1 free, and then a spend $20 get $10 off. So I stocked up on earrings. My favorites were these cute butterflies, all blue and beautiful.
I'd had the butterflies in for a while (because I'm still nervous about changing my earrings . . . I don't like pain! ) and they got a little gunky, as earrings do. So I dropped them in some rubbing alcohol to clean them up.
I had done this before, on my mom's advice, with the posts I got my ears pierced with. It works wonders! All the gunk floats off and they're all shinny and new-looking!
Um. Apparently, there's a difference between putting high-quality earrings and putting cheap butterfly earrings in rubbing alcohol. Also, it's not a great idea to leave said cheap-quality earrings in rubbing alcohol overnight.
Here's why: today I pulled my gorgeous butterflies out of the alcohol and they were, um, no longer gorgeous-looking. The jewels were falling out, and their was this white film over the earrings, and just, yeah. They're ruined.
But the metal was all shinny and clean!
So folks, learn from my mistakes. Don't put your cute, cheap earrings in rubbing alcohol overnight. just don't.
(And on a completely unrelated note, my brother just told me he wants to get new jeans. So his butt can be eye-candy. Um, ew?)
My university is big on torture. Reading our poems aloud in class is supposed to, like, be good for us? What? I don't buy it for one second.
I'm working on a ballad right now. It's due tomorrow morning - and, guess what - I've got to read it in front of my class. Which is kind of making the whole writing thing difficult. Because you know what? Rhyming is hard. I have so much respect for Dr. Seuss right now. I can come up with rhymes, but then my lines feel awkward and forced.
What's making things easier is that I have a new goal - not to take any of my poems too seriously.* Last week our assignment was based around "The Empire in the Air" by Kevin Pruffer, which is about a plane being blown up by a bomb. The example ballad for this assignment is about a plane crashing.
Which is why my poem is about witches. It's kind of wonderful to write something and not worry about being profound - I'll leave that to my classmates. Who are all poets. That's right: I am the only non-poet in the class. Everyone else has been writing poetry since high school, and here I am, the short story writer, taking the class because my advisor told me to.
Woe is me.
Anyway. I wanted to share a song I'm sure you've all heard by now. Basically its been playing on repeat in my brain for the last week. And basically, I love it.
Oh! And Matchbox Twenty released a new album earlier this month! This makes me very much happy, and my family not so much, because apparently they can't appreciate good music.
*And also, to butcher punctuation on all of my blog posts. Enjoy. ; ]
I thank God that I was born in the age of the internet, because I don't know how on earth I would do my chemistry homework without it. My textbook is so little help it's ridiculous.
And, oh yeah - I'm going insane.
I have a big test this week (and about a million other things due and to do). Why on earth am I a double major? Why on earth did I decide to do pre-vet? My humanities and English classes are so easy . . . why the heck did I have to complicate things with science?
This is what chemistry does to me.
Anyway. There's not really a point to this post, I guess, except my brain needs a break from molarity and molality and trying to manipulate problems to find the darn answer. So - want to see what books I'm excited for? When Thanksgiving break comes along, I'll burrow myself inside these beauties and forget all about this chemistry-thing.
AHH! I want to read them all right now. I've got to wait until break, but oh my gosh, don't they all look amazing? The Ghost and the Goth came out a while ago, and I have no idea how I missed it. The entire trilogy looks like something I'd absolutely love. I was blown away with The Scorpio Races so I'm kinda bouncing in my seat waiting for The Raven Boys, and Shannon Messenger has the most amazing blog, so I'm expecting her debut Keeper of the Lost Cities to be pretty amazing, too.
Can it be Thanksgiving yet?
*Spell check doesn't think "molality" is a real word. Ah, to be that innocent. It so is a real thing, I promise you. It's moles of solute per kilogram of solvent, denoted by a lowercase m. It is not to be confused with molarity, M, which is moles of solute per liter of solution.