Fuck America's Financial Student Assitance

So, last semester I was able to pay for everything, no problem. Then this semester happened and work was slow, and I did not make as much money as I was hoping to. So, what's a girl to do? She fills out a billion forms on FAFSA and then wait for them to get processed and then get told that my dad hasn't electronically cosigned after waiting the ten days. So then I call him and tell him he didn't sign and he didn't relize he didn't do that. Then I go to the financial aid office every two days to see if it's processed. Finally I get to see a financial aid counselor who tells me I need to call FAFSA. So I do that and they tell me that my dad has STILL NOT COSIGNED. And then I get really angry because I think that he forgot. But he didn't and he got a confirmation number the first time, but he signs with his pin number again. I call FAFSA again and they say that it went through this time. Which is great, but it should have gone through over a week ago and now I have to wait another week and all the old ladies at the financial aid office keep giving me shit about waiting so long, BUT IT'S NOT MY FAULT! THIS ALL SHOULD HAVE PROCESSED AND I SHOULD HAVE HAD MY MONEY OVER A WEEK AGO! And now because it's taken so long, I might not get anything, and I missed my last bio quiz because I was dealing with all of this and thought that it closed tomorrow at noon and not today at noon.

This semester has been way worse than last semester academically, and not because I have a huge balance in my account I can't even register for classes for the fall. I may have to go to the community college for a semester to chill out and let everything get sorted out at VCU. Ugh, I am so not feeling it. Actually with the way things are going I probably won't be able to do that right now either, and I'm probably not going to get to Europe unless I somehow start making more money. I am picking up more hours in a couple weeks, and hopefully people will need wall paper removed?

At least Richmond is cheap. And I think this is what rock bottom is supposed to feel like, but I"m nineteen and while I know you're supposed to be poor in college, but really? I can't help feel left out of the loop when my best friend is studying abroad in Paris and another's parents pay for their school, and spring-break trip to Montreal and will be paying for them to go to beach week, and another who goes to school in New York City and doesn't work...I mean my parents to do help me out, but it's help, it's not everything, and I resent the fact that they help me out at all.

I wish I could be content going to school and not having a life outside of it, but I'm not, so this summer I'm going to try and at least be content in Richmond.

I have six email addresses

After I helped my sister remove wallpaper from her new house a couple weeks ago, I decided that I was going to start a wallpaper removal business this summer. I mean, I was suprisingly good at it and I could use the money, and Richmond is probably full of ugly houses that could use my help. A couple days ago I decided to create a Craigslist post advertising my service, and I created a new Gmail account specifically for it. Somehow my login email address for blogger changed to the new one without my knowledge. And it's taken me two days to figure it out.

Sorry, I've been away. I'll catch up, probably tomorrow, when I'm not studying for my Biology final.

10

I'm an exceptionally vain person, I know, and sometimes I kind of feel bad about it, but then I look at the people around me and don't feel so bad for inheriting way better genes than them. I am consistantly irritated by the fact that the dudes that I am or have been interested in go for chicks that are not prettier than me. Sure, sure, I'm shallow, whatever, I get there is more to a person than how they look, but I'm a ten and these dudes keep going for butterfaces and fives. But can't they find chicks that are good looking and interesting, smart, witty, etc.? I'm sure it's possible.

And then there are the girls that think that they're a ten and are fours. Those ones are the worst. Oh, and they wear really cheap polyester dresses from Charlotte Russe, god, it's really awful. Will someone please explain this to me? I'm not talking about you're average skank who's some one time thing, I'm talking dating, like relationships, with saggy boobs and bad dye-jobs.

I'm sorry, I don't mean to be or sound like such a bitch, but this is part of that stupid "hating boys" thing I'm suffering through right now. I need to settle down in my apartment and then maybe socialize and find a nice twenty-something with a job, and because I live in Richmond, now, I don't care all that much what that job is so long as he has one. I suppose I can't really blame those boys for not going for tens seeing as my standards seem to be lowering. Ohdeargod, the black whole that is Richmond is slowly making me less, tense? High-strung? Snotty? Probably not, but I may learn to relax, and that might not be so bad.

The Primary colors are one, two, three, red, yellow and blue...

When I was in the second grade my sister April helped me do a "science fair project," except it didn't really count because I was in the second grade and only the fifth graders' got judged. But we went through the motions about. I don't remember the hypothesis or question, all I know is that it was about color and what colors you use to make other colors. I knew my primary and secondary colors thanks to that song they made us sing at church when we were little, so I knew that yellow and red made orange, etc. The majority of the "project" consisted of us using flashlights with transparent blue, red and yellow wrappers on them and directing the light over each other on white spaces to see what colors were made.

Then in sixth grade we had to do a variety of of projects where we were only given primary colors but had to also include secondary colors, that we had to make by mixing the primary colors ourselves.

Anyway, I thought everyone knew the difference between primary and secondary colors. I was wrong. Last night when I got home from work Jessica was working on some sort of diorama or something, anyway, she was using playdoh to cover the bottom of it and using blue, brown and green to represent the ocean, beach and grass. When she ran out of blue she asked me what colors make it. I couldn't believe what she said until she went further, "...is it green and yellow?"

"No."

"Red and purple?"

"No. That's makes a redder purple."

"Why won't you tell me?"

"Blue is a primary color, you use mix it with yellow to make green or red to make purple."

"Oh, so what about red and yellow, wait, no, that makes orange."

"It'a primary color!"

"I don't know that that means!"

"You can't make it. You can't make red, yellow or blue."

"So I have to buy more playdoh?"

"Yes."

let's talk about that thing that makes you and you're mom really uncomfortable

Today I had to give a presentation in Focused Inquiry about a topic I've been researching for a paper that's due next Monday. I am usually late for this class due to my living on the other campus and the fact that parking is virtually non-existant. Because parking always takes forever, I decided to take the bus. I knew that it came at 11:56 am and that it was supposed to come every ten minutes. So, logically this means that if I get out there by 11:40 I should be able to get on the earlier bus. WRONG! Instead I waited for about twenty minutes for a very full bus. I was luckily able to squeeze in and was just as late for class as I would have been had I decided to drive. Ugh.

My topic was "hooking up culture" - SURPRISE! Because I don't talk about sex and sex-related things enough already. Just about everyone else chose some political issue, or some historical figure. I care about those things, and don't mind reading about them, or hearing people debate about them, but listening to a nineteen year old list off their sources mostly without an explanation of why they chose their topic or why I should give a damn (despite whether or not I do already) become monotonous fast.

Anyway, my presentation was...lively? I'm not sure exactly what the right word is, but the class was definitely paying attention, even if they were uncomfortable. I'm not really sure how I'm so comfortable with it, I mean my parents are Mormon and my mom likes to pretend that people don't have sex.

I'm thinking about changing my major to international affairs, or something. I would really love to travel around and talk to people of both genders and all ages about sex and safety, etc. I'm not really sure where I would work, obviously a non-profit, and I'd still like to write, so we'll see. Someone was telling me about NYU's Sexology graduate program. Definitely something I'm going to look into.

Dorm Life

This is why Jessica and I need separate rooms:


"Are you going to pick your pillows up?"

"No."

"It looks like you just threw them off the bed."

"Yeah."

"And the room definitely smelled gross when I got back from class."

"Yeah, I was hoping I'd get back before you."

"You should have opened the window before you left..."

"...I did when I got back..."

"Are you going to pick up your pillows?"

"No, I don't need them right now."


Later


"We can't watch this."

"What are you on?"

"My sugar was low, so I ate some cookies and some M&Ms and drank some water, and now it's back up."

"You're really hyper..."

"I know..."

"420 was yesterday..."

"I know...The Office!"

(shakes head in disapproval)


Later

"Go move your car."

"I will when the show is over."

"God, my feet stink."

nineteen-year-old-girl-code

I think it's funny when I see dudes out with girls my age, that have given me or others shit, or complained about my accompanying others among themselves. It's this certain feeling of rightness, like dude, really? And you hate me because why? Oh, that's right, because you're a prick.

And of course my Favorite Person always sees me, but first avoids eye contact. FP will not look me in the eye for a good fifteen second. FP will look at everything around me, whether or not there are people. FP will then finally make eye contact and act surprised, as though they did not realize I had already said hello. We will then exchange polite small talk until one of us dismiss ourselves from the situation by claiming to meet someone or having something else to do. FP and I have many mutual friends and aquaintances, but FP has always maintained their distance. As a result, I find these awkward encounters amusing, while they seem more and more uncomfortable with each one.

TMI

If you recall all the bitching I've been doing about boys and how I'm taking a break, blahblahblah... I haven't shaved in three weeks and I'm enjoying it too much. My roommate is repulsed by my legs and when we were at H&M I was trying on dresses and her eyes got so big when she saw my armpits. Luckily I'm not a very hairy person and what is three weeks for me looks like a couple days for other people I know. It's getting to be a bit much, I may have to do something about it tomorrow if I want to wear anything cute this weekend.

taboo

I find it interesting that people always claim to "hate drama," because that simply is not true. Without it I believe life would be quite boring.

Sometimes I feel like it would be nice if we could all be polite and pretend that we don't have a problem with whatever irritating situation we may be in, but at that point I become upset with the people that do do this as they are simply putting on a happy face.

My sophomre year in high school a bunch of girls (from church, no less) came to the conclusion that I was a slut. And they didn't like that I was always going to church dances with different boys and flirting and overall getting a lot of attention from a lot of fifteen and sixteen and sometimes eighteen year old boys. It wasn't until one of them was royally screwed over by one of the guys that had screwed me over that she (and her friends) realized I wasn't so bad afterall. Mind you I never had these problems as school because after my freshman year I made a point not to date anyone I went to school with. From my point of view I was a floater and was able to maintain my distance from any one clique. It's a shame I haven't been able to keep up with that outside of high school.

But then I suppose I prefer the tension and ambiguity and tall-tales that are shared at parties, between drinks and over bedsides.

rainy days

I know I've been writing about how I can't wait for it to be May and to move into my apartment, but it's really all I think about most of the time. Today Jessica and I went to the apartment we will be living in. It is currently being occupied by two disgusting boys. They have a cat, I didn't see it, but I smelled it, and it smelled awful. This is why I don't want a cat. Jessica doesn't spend near the amount of time I do thinking about it, or planing color schemes I can't afford, or surfing the net for free furniture - or calling my mom about what things she'll be donating to our cause. I bought a receiver yesterday and speakers today and I can't wait to get an entertainment center (or similar item) and set it all up.

Today I asked Jessica if she had asked her parents about giving use stuff. She hasn't and said that she was pretty sure that her two older sisters were going to be getting a bunch of stuff. Lame. I'm kind of irritated. I wish she would get excited about something, anything. I asked her if she cared that the apartment wasn't going to be a reflection of her at all and she said that it's only three years. ONLY!? I've been going nuts living in the dorm because I don't have control over the color of the wall and how many guests I have at one time. But if she gets mad at me in July for the PURPLE WALL she will just have to deal.

After I picked her up today, we were sitting at a red light and I looked over and noticed a professor from last semester. It was raining and he was standing under an umbrella, and I wasn't sure it was him until he moved his umbrella so that I could not see him. We had a pretty good relationship,I considered him a friend, and still consider him a decent guy, but a fifty-year-old decent guy, with a girlfriend of four years. And everything was fine until he started hitting on me. I called him on it, explained that he didn't have a chance, he thanked me for my friendship, and we haven't talked or seen each other since - until today, when he obviously hid from me. This happened right before a girl got hit by a car. Or at least that's what I think happened. I didn't see it because me and Jessica were discussing his behavior and then we noticed that he was the first person pulling out their cell phone to help this girl. It's strange, the different sides of people.


(I'm sorry this is out of order)

After seeing the apartment we went to H&M. In the suburbs. I hate the fact that I have to leave a city to go shopping. I mean, I could shop in Carytown, but Eurotrash and Need do not sell things made for girls with boobs and an ass. I bought a new pair of black skinny pants (they're exactly like the ones I already have, but still have the sheen) and a white top and a teal sundress. These are the first clothing items I have bought this year. THIS YEAR! We're almost four months in and until today I had not purchased a single item of clothing. I think this is a first. I'm usually the type of person that gets a couple new things each month, but apparently my financial situation is getting the better of me.

I should eat something

Speaking of breakfast, I should eat some. Lessa mentioned that I looked like I have lost weight. And over winter break I had lost like five pounds, but I haven't weighed myself in a while, and it is possible that I may have lost more. But it has everything to do with my forgetting to ear until I start to fee light-headed. Like right now. I haven't eaten since about five yesterday evening. Saturday night I started to feel dizzy at Right 'Round and then I realized that I hadn't eaten since two that afternoon. I know you are tired of hearing me talk about my apartment, but seriously, once I get settled and have a kitchen with pots and pans and silverware, I am totally going to be that chick that makes huge meals on Sundays and then puts them in portion sized containters and eats them the rest of the week. Oh my God, I'm going to need to buy Gladware, and attempt three real meals every day.

the most important thing besides breakfast

I used to not understand why all my friends were down with hanging out with their families for long periods of time. I do now. I may still be the youngest and the butt of most jokes, but they really are all we've got. And it was wonderful seeing them yesterday. Ella's so tall, and loud and rambuncious. Archer is so quiet and timid, they are complete foils of each other.

Yesterday we all went to church, all of us. And because I forgot the dress I was going to wear I wore a hot pink Calvin Klein number that my mom "thought (I'd) like, but if you don't I can wear it" - it was a size too big and I looked like a giant Easter egg. I like hot pink, but not that much hot pink in one place, on one person.

Being at church is strange, there are so man new people and the old ones always ask about things they shouldn't. I just don't get it. I got asked if I was still going to church, and I'm not even going to walk around it, I'm not, but why would someone ask that when they know what the answer is and ruin a completely good conversation? The siblings, spouses and I left after the first hour to "help the Easter Bunny."

We played scrabble, team scrabble, except I'm not married nor do I have a boyfriend, so I was by myself. And I lost horribly, thank you Z, Q and J.

My parents came home with the grandkids about half an hour after we hid the eggs. Ella is very competitive and Archer isn't usually, but with some encouragement he caught up and even did the bragging song and dance when he found eggs that Ella had missed.

Dinner was relatively short, but fantastic. My mom told us how grateful she was to have all of us home and it was. It was really great. I see April and her husband Steven fairly often because they live in Richmond, too. But my brothers, hardly ever. Steven (my brother) is a pilot and he and his wife Lessa and their daughter Ella live in Arizona. I see Lessa and Ella more often than I see him because of his crazy work schedule. My other brother Joseph and his wife Laiene live in San Sebastain, Spain. I probably see them both twice a year, but hardly ever are they here together.

After dinner we sang April 'Happy Birthday' (her birthday was this past week) and played Loaded Questions. Have I mentioned that my family is big on board games? Because we are. I don't understand why people don't play them more often. When I get my apartment the eight-year-old in me is going to beg everyone that walks through my door to play Sorry!

True Story

My car is officially dead. How does that happen? Seriously, it lasted just long enough for me to park. There has to be a God. There is no way that shit happens by coincidence.

This morning I put more oil in my car. No luck. So I enlisted the help of another friend to jump me. No luck.

I could not make my life up. Most novels don't have the amount of drama and dad-to-day problems that I have.

I called Jess first to see if she could take me to get oil, she could but it was going to take a bit. I also felt the need to ask her how her job search is coming, and I don't mean to lecture her, but I really want to live with her and if she doesn't have a job then she's not going to be able to pay rent, and if she can't do that then I might need to find someone else to room with for the summer. She pointed out that it was much easier for me to find a job because I had a skill, and that's true, but I also spent two full days biking around Richmond filling out applications. And I gave follow up calls within the next week. So I can't help but be frustrated. Later I called April and she told me about having the same talk with a few of her roommates. It was never good, and they always resented her for it. Jessica is more proactive about school and I'm more proactive about everything else, which is why I have money (well, more than she does) and she has good grades (something I haven't had since the seventh grade).

Landis was the second person I called and he thankfully was quicker and was able to take me to get the oil. And we bickered as we usually do about the same stuff. But he brought up Brian. Brian and I went out a couple of times and for some stupid reason I thought he was actually interested in dating me, but then he didn't pay for either "date." And then Landis informed me that I looked like this chick that he and Brian had both dated before and that Brian was probably only interested in me because that. Anyway, Brian and I got into a fight when I was very drunk about how he "couldn't stop thinking about me" and I was all "dude, you didn't even pick up the bill" and he lectured to me about being old fashioned, blahblahblah. Apparently Landis and Brian were at the same bar and Landis was right. Then when I complained about all the guys I know just wanting to get in my pants Landis said that I should stop giving that impression. What? I've heard this before, but I really have no idea what I'm doing that does this. Someone explain. I walk around in jeans and shirts most of the time. And even when I go out I don't usually wear things that are particularly revealing.

Jason's sister was kind enough to attempt to jump my car. It didn't work.

I called Garrett, who used to be a mechanic, and he said that he'd come look at it tonight. He doesn't think it's the battery.

This is the thrid week in a row that my car has had something wrong with it. Whatever it is, it needs to be fixed by tomorrow at five so that I can see Beirut. There is no way I can miss that show. I have been looking forward to it for months.

Is it May yet? I need it to be May. And I need to meet people that have their shit together. Harry was right, boys and girls can't be friends. But girls are so cliquey, I mean, my roommate and I very rarely hang out with other girls and when we do, everyone breaks off into pairs. It's absolutely useless. I need it to be May. MAY! HURRY UP!

Remember that movie 'Groundhog Day'? Yeah? Well...

Yesterday I spoke with both my sister and my sister-in-law about going to Kings Dominion today with the majority of my family. Each agreed that meeting when it opened (10:30 am) would be fine. So this morning when I left at a quarter after ten after waking up late and showering, I arrived to find that I was the only one there. April was still at her house in the West End and everyone else was about an hour away. I suppose I should have called someone to verify the time, but I already thought I was running late. And it wasn't so bad, I hadn't eaten anything yet and waited in Burger King. Everyone except April showed up around eleven thirty, because no one called her to let them know that they were getting close. My brothers cannot be counted on to plan thing efficiently, that's okay though, that's why they have sisters - three of them.

We had an enjoyable time. Ella, my niece is five and loves roller coasters, and my sister-in-law, Laiene (Lie-in-Ay - who is Basque) was at an amusement park for the first time ever. I'm not really sure how that is possible, she is thrity-one. I don't think I know anyone over the age of five, that has never been to one, but then I grew up a reasonable distance from three and she you know, grew up a reasonable distance from teh beach and the mountains. It was fun seeing her reaction in comparison with my nieces after we went on the Ricochet, the first ride of the day. Laiene was in shock and Ella couldn't wait for the next one.

I had to leave early to go to work. Lame.

After work, I parked and turned my car engine off, but leaving the radio on. But the radio didn't stay on. So I tried turning the car on. And it didn't turn on. I haven't checked the oil in at least three thousand miles and my car may need some more. Awesome. My phone is thankfully working again, but of course my car isn't. Seriously, every week! What is with the universe?

Instead of getting upset about it I watched some chick attempt to parallel park in front of me for a few minutes before I explained that she was doing it wrong. I don't know why people in Richmond don't know how to parallel park, it is not that difficult. I have spent a lot of free time at work observing the people setting out for happy hour attempt to park their SUVs on Main Street, it makes the time pass by faster, and is, you know, amusing. The chick explained that she'd never really needed to parallel park before and had just gotten her car. But the spot in front of me was huge andher car was tiny, and well, whatever, hopefully she gets it now.


Aside: The past four weeks have been absolute shit. I think I'm officially entering that stage of college where I stop shaving in an effort to consciously repel the opposite sex. Never in my life did I think this would happen. I have loved boys since I realized that there was an opposite sex, but lately they just keep pissing me off. Tonight I was discussing the way people communicate with a Myers/Briggs expert/consultant that comes into work. She didn't explain anything new to me, we mostly just bitched about how irritating it is when people don't seem to try to meet you in the middle when it comes to communication. Ugh, I don't want to deal with it anymore. There, I'm a stereotypical nineteen year old girl, and I hate boys.

Fuck my life.

waiting for may

I am missing the Crystal Stilts/Comet Gain show right now. I am attempting to spend less time in DC and you know, am really low on funds. This whole being a poor-college-student thing is not working out for me.

I drove around all day on an empty tank, thankfully "all day" means no more than ten miles, so after work I finally filled up. The dudes in front of me had their bass turned all the way up. Really? At the gas station? When you're car isn't even moving? Douchebags. I hate that. In response to their obnoxious behavior, I decided to be equally obnoxious and blast The Long Blondes, if for no other reason than to drown them out.

When I turned around there was a homeless man who popped up out of no where who was complementing my music and of course asking for money. I awkwardly told him that I didn't have any change, and I didn't. I very rarely carry anything besides my debit card, and besides he approached me and that was a little nerve-racking.

Also nerve-racking (I'm pretty sure I'm spelling that wrong, sorry) is the end of this semester. It's going horribly. I just want it to be over and for it to be May already. And I want to know where I'm going to be living and I wantwantwant. I think I'm going to spend the first two weeks after I move in free of electronics, well at least no internet or outgoing calls and texts and just work on the apartment.

I've spent a couple days this week helping my sister take down wall-paper in her new house and just being there gets me excited about painting and decorating my place. As of right now, RIGHT NOW! I will be inheriting a bunch of stuff from my parents including, but not limited to: one coffee table, three matching book shelves, pots and pans, glasses, another "kidney" shaped table, a bed and dresser - all of it is at least thirty years old, except for maybe the kitchen stuff. This is in addition to the monkey chair and my desk and this really awesome lamp/pyramid table that I got from someone my mom cleans for. This is enough furniture form y bedroom and the living room. We really only need a kitchen table, a couch and an entertainment center cabinet thing (though there is one at Diversity thrift that I reallyreallyreally want). Dear GOD! I am so excited about this. And I'll have framed pictures on walls that I will have painted and my flower menorah, and then I'll have pictures to prove how awesome my apartment will be (that is way better than everyone elses).

flushed down the drain

Have you ever recieved an invitation to a group on Facebook titled "I lost all my phone numbers..." ? Yeah, me too. But that's not my problem. I like all of those people dropped my phone in the toilet. Well, actually, it feel out of the torn pocket of my hoodie. And I usually keep my phone in my pant's pocket, but of course today I didn't, and of course this happened. Ugh.

After I retrieved it, and rather quickly I may add, I dried it off with a paper towel and then rinsed it off with a damp one, AND THEN I took it apart and used a blow drier to make sure it was really, really dry. I called my roommate to make sure that it still worked, and it did, but then it didn't as well. So I quickly jotted down all of my numbers in my address book, you know, just in case.

Well, THANK BABY JESUS, because now my keyboard isn't operational. My phone will still turn on and off and the time is still correct, but that is the only key that works. I'm hoping that this is a temporary thing, but I doubt it and I'm going to get it checked out tomorrow.

This is ridiculous, it's like having a sick child. I am at a complete loss. I'm mostly upset that I've lost all my text messages because THAT IS HOW PATHETICALLY SENTIMENTAL I AM. But there's nothing I can do about it now, and I suppose this isn't a horrible thing, and I will totally get over it. Totally.