So I have 15 minutes before my Econ class, and I've had the blogging itch for a while, so here goes another ramble... Before the good stuff I have to get through the obligatory beginning of semester summary.

I have six classes, 16 credits. Last semester was a nice, easily managable 4 class, 13 credit affair that went pretty smoothly on the whole, except for my jackass of a native-French speaking Spanish prof. Considering how badly I did on some of his exams, the A- I got was higher than I expected, but my beloved 4.0 is now gone. I will miss it. It was good for raising eyebrows in the counselling office: "Well, you have to have a 2.5 to be admitted... Oh, *embarassed laugh* you'll have no problem with that, will you?" Nope. Although I guess you can't really sneeze at a 3.9 either, but it just doesn't have the magic of the 4.0. Mi professor no fue un buen tipo de professor, porque siempre gano un A en mis clases de espanol. Que lastima.



So yeah, this new semester is a bit of a rude awakening. For one thing, I have to write actual papers again. I've had a bit of a break from that and I am not looking forward to it. Especially since I'm pretty sure that the Macroeconomics research paper is supposed to be a group thing. How do you write a research paper as a group? Macroeconomics is definately the class I'm most leery of, (Prof w/ accent, projects up to wazoo) but Management Information Systems (lots of group projects, no idea what the class is about even after 3rd day, prof with accent) is a close second and Business Law (tricky subject matter, have to lead group discussion) could be a problem too. Stats seems easy enough so far, but we're only in the first chapter, it could get worse. *Since writing this sentance I have discovered that yes, indeed, it gets worse. For one thing, my mom's friend's son is in there too, and although we played together as infants, including him explaining his limited knowledge of the production process of chicken and stars soup to me, we really haven't had anything to do with eachother since. The last time we interacted at all was a year ago, I was babysitting his brothers, he walked in and yelled "Hi babysitter!" down the stairs, and went on to discuss his football game w/ the friends he had brought home. It was awkward. I am still trying to figure out if he even knows who I am. My Management Accounting class should be fine, I put my trust in good ole prof Stove from last semester's Financial Accounting class. He's a good egg. My 1 credit Accounting class shouldn't be a problem. It's just the acutal manual accounting and I get along w/ that okay.

So anyways, as usual, college leaves me with all too many opportunities to think and make observations, including but not limited to bus rides, waiting for class to start while trying not to make eye contact with anyone, and my breaks.

Observation #1: After having bought three semesters' worth of books, I have noticed an interesting trend in book binding techniques. Certain types of classes will always have softcover bindings, and other will inevitably be hard cover. Hardcover genres include all math books (including accounting) language books, and science books (when they are involved with medical majors). Softcover genres include gen ed classes (this is WITHOUT fail), computer books, and economics books. Why is this? Maybe the people responsible don't even realize what they are doing, but I like to think it has something to do with the age and permanancy of the information. Take your average math or anatomy book, for instance... The human anatomy doesn't change much, and neither do the ancient rules of algebra or geometry. They're old, they aren't gonna change, and therefore they get a hardcover binding. Your average gen ed book, however, isn't very large, or important, and is probably gonna be completely revolutionized as the fashionable ideas about the topic change. Take your average CS150 book. A signifigant portion of the content didn't exist 5 years ago. Almost none of it existed 15 years ago. In another 5 years the book will probably be completely irrelevant, so what's the point? That's kind of discouraging though... In most of my business subjects, everything I learn will be outdated in a few years. Why am I learning it at all? Why not just wait a few years and go to school then? Because what I learn then will then be outdated within a matter of months, if the exponential growth predictions are to be believed... What's gonna happen to us when we can't keep up anymore? This is annoying for other reasons too... Like buying a new computer. Buy one now, and have it become obsolete in a year, or put up with junk for another year so you can buy the latest technology and be cutting edge for a few months. But then that one will be outdated too. Same goes for speakers, cars, TV's, sound systems, etc... How is this gonna end?

Observation #2: In regular classrooms, the whatever it was in the old metaphor (chips?) tend to lie where they fall, which, being interpreted, means that within a few class periods an unofficial, unspoken seating chart has been created, to be upheld on pain of incensed glares from the owner of the usurped seat. This does not hold true for computer classes, however. The kids in my management class keep bouncing around like BB's in a boxcar, true, there is usually one or two unoperational computers each day (location varies) which tends to cause some disturbance, but honestly, why can't they pick a spot and usually stick with it? It's disconcerting to find the spot you had staked out for yourself one day occupied the next, leaving you to fend for yourself, and to have different neighbors every time.

Observation #3: I've been contemplating the ramifications of man being made of dust and woman being made from man's rib... First, that may explain why girls are on average smaller than guys. Second, I think this explains some of the big differences b/t men and women personaltiy wise. I've forgotten a lot of my conclusions about this, apparently, because none of the good ones are coming to mind, but one of them was that guys were made of earth, so they have colder personalities over all... Women were made of flesh, so they are more emotional and warm. Then again, earth isn't as strong a material as bone, which justifies my age-old theory that deep down men just aren't quite as strong as women. Another thing I think women being made of Adam's rib explains is why the sexes are so attracted to eachother. It kind of works like charged cells... Guys are missing a rib, and we have the missing rib... therefore we bond. Lol... Simplistic I know.

I'm glad nobody I know reads this blog anymore, because these observations offer a somewhat intimate glimpse into the weird wanderings of my bored mind. It's gonna be a good semester for the old blog, because I have a short break in which I am in close proximity to a few uncrowded computer labs, so expect more observations to follow.

Ice, Ice Baby

Well... today was interesting. First of all, I'm on my winter break from school. Work has been slow for the past few weeks, so I haven't had to work. Which is good, obviously, because it means I occasionally have been able to sleep in during my break. It is also bad, however, because I'm spending money like a drunken sailor and have nothing to replace it with. Along with that, the schoolessness and worklessness has lured me into a false sense of freedom, to be brutally crushed next Monday. Well, possibly tommorow even, as I will be buying books. Of course, that isn't really as painful for me as it could be, since I still have scholarship overflow checks coming. Still, book-buying is about the only time college students ever see $100 bills. Well, anyway, as has been established, I'm on break.
So are other college students.
Including a lonely rocket scientist-to-be, who asked a friend to hang out, and then me (because I just had to have my tart remark, even though I could guess at the consequences). We are both to nice to openly refuse, but we are also not interested in quality one-on-one with the guy. Our solution? Maxmize the girl-to-guy ratio. Four of us ended up meeting him for skating downtown, which really was fun even though the skates were crappy. I like skating, and I wish I had some way of taking classes to get more skillz. That and gymnastics and scuba diving and body surfing and snowboarding and ballet and modern dance and the list goes on and on and on. All the things my parents didn't get me into as a child, dooming me to a life of "good enough to get by" in all things physical. So anyways, I've been distracted from the point of this post, which is, a rant about coffee shops.
So after the skating we all head for this coffee shop one of the girls knew about. This involved going the wrong way on a one way street, stopping for a red light in the MIDDLE of the intersection (with a cop directly behind us, fortunately going off-duty), several foiled attempts (due to construction-based road closures) to get across town, and another driving infraction commited in the presence of a cop.
Needless to say, we all were ready for a cuppa. Now, I'm a noob where coffee shops are concerned, especially when I can't read the menu behind the counter since I forgot my contacts (again). I've never been to a Starbucks. The most elegant coffee drink I had previously ordered would be the English Toffee cappucino at Russ's. Luckily for me they had a little flip-style specials menu thing out on the counter, and this mint mochachino thing sounded good. A friend promised me I could get it warm, as opposed to iced. I can't abide iced coffee. Any more than a quarter cup and I am nauseated, as also happens with any variety of tea or soy milk. Anyway, my turn arrives and I cheerily ask for a warm mint mocachino. The guy mumbles something involving "hot" into his headpiece, and the girl on the other end apparently has as much trouble understanding him as I do, as he was forced to repeat himself several times. He then turns his attention back to me, and says something about "Mint Condition" this I knew to be a drink with espresso, and I was (and still am) wary of espresso, since I don't like strong coffee. Is espresso a really strong coffee, or is it just extra caffinated? I was about to let it go, but then I decided that I should start standing up for myself, and should make sure I got exactly what I wanted. Isn't that what these establishments are all about? So I told him, wait, I asked for the Mint Mochachino, and proceeded to show him the picture. He muttered some more on his headpiece and then culled $4.55 from my roll of bills. I moved on down the line, anticipating a mouthfull of warm, minty goodness. Talk started up again, as it will between girlfriends, and somewhere along the way doubt was cast on my drink. The statement about being able to get a warm mint mochachino was retracted, and replaced with the idea that the "Mint Condition" was actually the warm version. Which meant that by insisting on the "Mint Mochachino" I had actually procured for myself a clear plastic cup of what turned out to be mint-flavored brown water textured with little chunks of ice and chocolate chips. I lasted for about half of it, mostly due to the chocolate chunks, but then stomachache and chills set in, from which I am still suffering as I write, even after a restoring bowl of piping-hot homemade potato soup. I feel robbed.
Moral of the story: When in coffeehouses, don't order any of those fancy schmancy drinks. Especially if you're like me--I have a little more experience after tonight, but ordering coffee is an adventure for me, since no matter what I ask for I will be at least a little suprised by the contents of what I end up getting. You will be much better off with a bowl of the soup of the day. Or if you are feeling bold maybe even a plain old mild/medium blend coffee with a hazelnut flavor shot and enough cream and sugar to incite comment.
With that I would like to wish every one a blessed New Year!!!!!! The blog (still) lives!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

What I've learned in College...

Hey y'all, time for an update again, I guess. Thanks to my 3 or 4 faithful readers for checking in from time to time, it makes it all worth it, lol.

What I've Learned In College

• You DON'T use conjunctions in formal writing.
• If you enter a GDSU computer lab, you will feel a strong, sudden urge to go to the bathroom immediately upon login. This is not an exaggeration, it is an unescapable fact of life- be prepared.
• If you are like me and are uncomfortable using crowded public restrooms, it is important to know which ones are most likely to be empty. At GDSU these include the bathroom in the Southernmost end of the 2nd floor of Mak, the one hidden in the vending machine room to the right of the MAN entrance, and the 2nd level bathroom smack in the middle of KirkHoff.
• Bathrooms built after the 80's will not have an anteroom where you can dump your backpack- in these situations the proper thing to do is lean it against the door in your stall. Ew.
• Register the very first minute you possibly can. I know this, I just haven't put it into practice yet. But it seems like it would really help.
• Don't plan on using a college computer the week before finals.
• With the exception of above, computers are readily available any time after 4 pm.
• Lunch in the Landing is easiest to come by at 3 pm. The pizza is good, the ice cream is not. Pop is the same everywhere.
• The best bus seats are the two back corners, because you can prop your feet up. Unfortunately I didn't discover this until recently. The absolute worst seats are the first two seats where the back of the bus rises, because basically your at the eye level of anyone who is standing, or any of the sideways seats on a crowded bus because the view is inevitably an eyeful of posterior. The exception is if it is a good lookin' posterior. But still.
• There are some good points to Classical Music, particulary this once piece by Bach and Appalacian Spring by this one composer, but there are also pieces that should have been left to dissapear into the mists of time. I speak of the musical contemporaries of modern artists, particularly the opera Wozzak and the Hiroshima thing, where violins basicaly are made to imitate an atomic bomb and air raid sirens. My ears will never be the same.
• Book buyback can make you feel rich and cheated all at the same time.
• Ratemyprofessor.com is the brainchild of a very intelligent and benevolent person.
• Spanish classes are best taken with people you know, late at night.
• However, it is not a good idea to schedule days where you only have one class from 6-8, the timing is awkward, really splits your day up weird.
• One of our presidents died from food poisoning from rotten cherries.
• Spanish speakers have a very definate idea about what a pretty girl/heroine voice should be in animated movies. I'm pretty sure the same woman does the voices for Jasmine, Beauty, and the various other animated princesses and love interests in the Spanish films I've seen. Either that or all beautiful Spanish girls have the same voice.
• College isn't as great as it's cracked up to be, but not as bad either. It's survivable, as long as you have enough money and or brains, food, support, and manly fortitude.
• College Algebra is so much easier than high school Algebra. Go figure.
• It's really amazing how often you see people you know, even if, like me, you don't know all that many people. Just to prove me right, my cousin saw me in here and popped in to say hi. We have our Spanish exam in 1/2 hour.
• The best part about college, is, of course, break.

Happily, I will be on break in 3ish days, which will start a flurry of applications and resumes, and hopefully land me a job. I will also be working on (YAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAY!!!!!) OUR COTTAGE!!!!!! Yep, you read that right, my fam bought a cottage on a lake about 20 minutes away from our house, right next to our cousins' cottage. How we came to get it is a long story, as is our refurbishing efforts and, hopefully, our adventures while spending time there. Hopefully I'll get around to telling this story sooner or later, and I also plan on updating the Clyde blog w/ Darren, so stay tuned for that, and check out Dren's profile to find the link if you haven't seen it! And I quote Scarlatti, "Tara!"

It's not Shakespere

Well, then. As promised, here is an update, finally. It will please you all to know, I'm sure, that I'm in a much more felicitous frame of mind. School is out in three weeks, we have a cottage (such as it is), I have a babysitting job (along with my mom and sis, but what a GRAVY gig it is), and I'm gonna be workin and gettin money, and who knows, maybe I'll even end up in the U.P. this year...
Anyways, I've been meaning to improve my post quality, trying to get away from constant gripes and onto something cooler and more meaningful to others, etc. This may not get me there completely, but it's a start. It's my first, and hopefully only sonnet, that I wrote for my Brit Lit class. Sonnets are, frankly, exasperating, but I still kinda liked writting them. They're like a puzzle- you need to have a certain number of syllables in each line, with a certain pentameter (pattern of stressed and unstressed syllables) and certain lines have to rhyme. It's tricky getting just the right combination of words to have it fit AND make sense. Shakespere and other Renaissance men wrote lots of these, usually to impress the ladies. Having written one myself, if I ever get an original and good sonnet dedicated to me by some guy, that's gonna be some major, major points in his favor. I might even give him a title or something, like Queen Elizabeth... Anyways, I digress...

Untitled Sonnet
That damsel's countenance doth look, to me,
As one too colorless, ashen, and pale.
Indeed! A face of death is what I see.
But what can be the plague which so doth ail?
Alas! Her eyes of blue begin to dim.
Alack! Her knees (well-shaped and fair) do bend.
The objects in her view begin to swim.
Again I ask- What means caused this, her end?
The maid now sways, now falls! But quick is caught,
And speedily to nearby couch is borne.
At once her limbs are rubbed, cold water's brought,
While slow the circumstance 'pon me doth dawn.
For now its telling picture truth doth paint,
'Tis clear her gift of blood has made her faint.

This was inspired by a real life event- a classmate of mine really fainted- which was pretty big news the day it happened, and always got mentioned whenever the blood bus rolled into town. It happenes to you once, and you never live it down. Poor Melvie. I got lightheaded once, but I've given a gallon so far... Everybody get out there and give blood! It's the easiest and fastest way to save a life,plus you get cookies, Coke, and sometimes a free t-shirt or boxers. Some people even will pay you for plasma.

All My Life's a Circle...

...sunrise and sundown. ~Harry Chapin.
I (although I could be doing more productive things like the homework I've been freaking out about all day, or, even better, sleeping) have been reading the archives. And I have come to the conclusion that my life pretty much runs in a circular pattern. It starts off with hope and happiness, goes to despair, stress, and a ton of homework, even more despair and stress, mostly brought on by my bad time mangagement (see first sentance), then things start looking up, hope returns and happiness ensues, until another crushing blow falls upon me. It is a viscious cycle, and no wonder I've gotten so cynical, pessimistic and escapist. And- since I'm a good little Anthropology and Sociology student- I know this isn't my fault, it's the result of the the horrible American culture creating an environment that is influencing me. Seriously- all those classes consist of is the implied understanding that white American culture is of no value, that no other culture in the world is capable of doing anything wrong, and that, quite possibly, nobody has a right to say anything is "right" or "wrong." Bah. A pox on college, and on American culture, which encourages people to attend it. And now to bed, where I should have been 2 hours ago.

There's some days even my lucky rocketship underpants don't help. ~Calvin, of Calvin and Hobbes

The fury of the blizzard had ebbed, leaving a deep coating of dusty snow to muffle a world frozen to the negative 4 degree. She pulled her coat on over her pajamas, stuffed her feet into a pair of shoes and slipped out of the dark basement. Few things are more beautiful than a winter sky. The air is dry and clear-- all the water has frozen and fallen, and the stars are at their most reachable. Orion was the only recognizable constellation; a waxing moon and the nearby city blocked out lesser stars. The snow crunched as she angled for a better view. She thought about perfection, and how man had so completely ruined God's perfect world. Even now, in all the beauty of the black sky and the white snow, moon and stars, lay man's smudging, marring fingerprints. The city light blocked out the stars, and it's toxins lay in the glittering dust. Breaking the silence of the snow was the hum of the highway and the crunch of a snowplow across the woods. Woods (don't think about it) that had (it hurts, but I can't help it) more or less been doomed to be sacrificed on the altar of urban sprawl and human greed. It was, and is, a thought that panicked her. Her childhood, the precious memories that made life livable, chopped down, buldozed, and replaced with the proposed 20-house development where people would make memories of their own, never realizing that they had destroyed hers. The fragrant patch of wild lilly-of-the-valleys, the various forts she had built with the friends she no longer knew, the place she had buried her pets, and fled to when all seemed wrong with the world. She remembered how it had felt when another woods, equally precious, had been destroyed, and a few tears flowed down her face for the old pain of the little girl was, and the present fear that little girl had never anticipated.
To some people, change is a friend, but to her it was always an enemy, forcing her forward when all she wanted was to stay where she was, then retreating for awhile and lulling her into a false security, before whipping her world around again. It even had the gall to change her. This was why--although by most people's standards she was young--she felt old, defeated, and helpless, unsure of where she was going, what she was doing as she tore herself away from the world of snow and stars, and headed back into the house.
"Help me, Lord. Please... just help me."

Back at it...

There is one thing I like about returning to college. One thing, and one thing only. They always start things off on Mondays, as opposed to my high school, which would start things off on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and occasionally Thursdays. It just really throws things off when you don't start on Monday. Monday- even though it remains a "no man's land" of unpredictability- is also the day for starting things. It just makes sense starting on Monday. Perhaps it's a cultural thing, like in my Sociology 101 class. Maybe for my culture-breaking experiment I can start my week on a Tuesday!

Anyways, the good news first:
~It snowed!
~As far as non-class life is concerned, nothing has changed.
~I'm still having frequent sightings of the Language Lab tech and a Writing Consultant. Although that might not be good news. I'm gonna say it is though, b/c it's something familiar.
~I'm getting better at knitting.
~I'm not going to have any big tests/projects/papers/exams in Ant 204.

Bad News:
~It snowed~
~I'm hungry.
~There's no one to talk to in any of my classes. Yet.
~People I sit by tend to have 1 or 2 friends in the class with them, eliminating any possible chance of them talking to me.
~So far I have speeches in 2 of my classes. Gulp.
~So far I have chronic group discussion in 2 of my classes.
~So far I have constant readings scheduled for 2 of my classes.
~I've got a ton of pesky 3 pager essays slated.
~I still have 2 classes to go.
~I have to do a "breaking social norms" project for Soc 101, which involves, well, breaking social norms. Seeing as my life's mission is to blend in, this does not sit or bide well for me.

I can't dance... trust me, I'm not just saying that.

So yeah... the third to last first cousin was safely married off today. I wish nothing but the best for them, I've always been on friendly terms with her, and the guy she picked always has a smile and a friendly greeting for young in-laws. Even AFTER going out to eat with all of us MORE than one time. This requires a certain degree of good-naturedness, patience, and manly fortitude, as the wait for the food seems to bring out the worst of the sick humor in the Vanderbeanies.

The ceremony was cute, quick, and everything Non-Netherlands Reformed that a ceremony presided over by a youth pastor of a mega-church with a shiny eagle on the back of his tux would be expected to be. (Note to self: strapless dresses are not fit for human consumption.) The church was HUGE- think VanAndel. But anyways, we got through all right. Then came the reception. I...survived. They say time heals all wounds.

We rode with our aunt, the mother of the bride, so we arrived first. It was pretty, so once we had the seating arrangement settled, I got down to business with my cameras. I wanted to get the whole scene in the picture, so I climbed up to the second story balcony. I flipped over my camera case to get it out, forgetting I had batteries for the digi-cam stored in it, leading to a battery-based carpet bombing of the ground floor. Luckily, nobody was there yet, and they fell harmlessly. With that encouraging start, I decided to sit down, shut up, and wait for the food. Nothing, I repeat, Nothing (except perhaps a baseball game or Chicago traffic) goes slower than a wedding reception. After 20 minutes, the bridal party showed up. There was a mad rush for the cash bar, then a formal seating of the bridal party. 20 minutes later the white-uniformed servers brought out water. After another 20 minutes we were given bread baskets. Then a couple ding-and-kiss sequences, and the salad. A twenty minute wait, broken up by some scattered camera fire and more ding-and-kiss, and the main course. Garnishing the stuffed lasagna??? was some sliced summer squash and zucchini. If there is one thing you can't accuse me of, it's being vegetarian, and to kill time during the seemingly endless wait for the dessert buffet, I amused myself by pushing all the slices into a green-yellow pattern around the edge of my plate. I was one of the first to patronize the "coffee station," and was just relaxing with a pretty strong cuppa when I hear a rather droll, "Nice design." I had forgotten about that, and was rather embarrased as the bald, Simple-Plan bassist look-alike waiter smiled indulgently and asked me if I was through with my plate. Heh-heh... "Yup, thanks." Anways, the Cannoli and Tiramisu course passes peacefully, until the sound guy throws in a left turn. "Okay folks, now it's time for Mr. and Mrs. D's first dance as a married couple. This would be my first dancing wedding, btw. Next was the bridal party, then *shudder* snowballing time. Everyone on the floor had to grab someone from the tables. Unaware of my peril, I laughed when the super-tall bridesmaid grabbed some little boy of her aquaintance. Then came the second snowball round. I had a slight apprehension, and was keeping my gaze focused away from the dance floor, my attention concentrated on my water glass. Then *BAM!* Two hands on my shoulders and an unfamiliar male voice, "Okay darlin, let's go!" (OH NO, NONONONONONONO, ^&*()*^, PLEASE, PLEASE, NO! GAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!) "Heheh... ahahaha... I really can't dance..."
"Oh, that's okay, I can't either!" *Grins* (GAAAAAHHHH!!!! WRONG RESPONSE BUSTER!!!! I'm NOT kidding... I've never danced in my life- at least not successfully, or in public. Apparantly he was one of the twins in the bridal party who were next-door neighbors to the groom.)
"Uh, okay..."
So I get up in a daze and we sorta bounce around to "Me and My Gang", I go for a twirl thing, which we kinda pull off, then he tries the 'ol country kick thing, with some success, I half-heartedly try it, then I guess he realized I hadn't been kidding him, and we sorta just shuffled around for a while and watched the 3 or 4 people who were actually dancing, and kinda joked around about not being able to dance. Then the song changed and he nicely let me go sit down. "Thank you!" Soon after we left, with me totally freaked out. I mean, I'm not really used to the whole dancing thing. As I told the dude, most people's dancing ablility is direcly correlated to blood alchohol level, and mine wasn't elevated. Also, I've seriously never danced before, at least not with non-brother guys anywhere near, much less WITH non-brother guys. GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!! But oh well, several key witnesses told me I did fine, and I shouldn't ever run into the dude again because he lives in Chicago, and, of course, time heals all wounds. Still, I can't stop laughing at myself, him, and the whole shebang.

After that we left, watched the skaters downtown, and took a look at Gerald Ford's memorial, which was kinda cool, first time I've ever seen a full-size general-public tribute up close like that.

GAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!! How am I EVER going to get to sleep again with that whole episode playing around in my mind?! It's bad enough with all my high-school memories.

Well then.

Ah... what is it about having the time to get things done that takes away the desire to get things done? Break is upon us, and the sloth in me reigns supreme. Having recently learned that listing things that need to be done is bad blogger ettiquite, I will refrain, but there are things I should be doing that I am not. I'm good at finding more important things to do than what I should do. Blogging, for instance, and You Tube, which may be my current biggest time-waster. And I find myself getting back into Neopets... Stupid of me. Funny how things change. Neopets was what got me interested in the internet in the first place.

This was oh... 1999, I believe. I had a friend back then that I am no longer in contact with, and she was the one who discovered Neopets, and pushed me into it. Those were the old days, with K-mart's Blue Light internet, which allowed us a whopping 12 hours per month. I treasured my 15-minute sessions dearly, and the times I was allowed a whole-half hour of feeding, buying and selling in a virtual world about drove me wild with happiness. Not quite. But still.

Internet is like meth- one whiff and you're hooked, and the longer you're on it the more you need. It took a while- Blue Light was cheap, and so is my dad- but eventually the bad service, limited hours, and the fact that K-mart was switching to Dad's arch-nemesis AOL, we jumped ship and signed on with AT&T for 150 hours a month. This was still in the age of dialup, and those of you who weren't born this millenium will remember the siren song of the connecting modem, the slow loads, and-most hated of all- getting bumped off due to a phone call. Oh, and did I mention slow loads? Everything seemed to take ages- Neopets games took a good minute or two, downloading was not for the faint of heart, and video was out of the question. In spite of it all, I grew in knowledge- HTML became a good friend, I learned how to ferret out the information I wanted, and life was good.

Of course, human nature doesn't let us remain contented for long. DSL came along, and we were slowly exposed to it's wonders. Again, it took awhile, but when unlimited DSL was offered for 15 bucks a month, compared to 10 bucks for 150 hours of dialup, Dad cracked. The first few months we were in awe, poleaxed by the blazing load speeds, the dizzying video abilities, and being able to talk on the phone while checking our e-mail. Not all the changes were for the best- the strange CSS took the place of my familiar HTML, rendering me nearly helpless where website personalization was involved. Neopets froze my 7-year old account, shutting me off from my fake pets, my very real high scores and honors, and my huge stock of NP. And all my secret avatars. It was a crushing blow. But I had You Tube to soothe me, with all it's obscure TV show episodes, it's anime comedy dubs, it's obscure music videos, and I discovered blogging, to my great happiness and everyone else's complete lack of interest. And now, here I am, more or less settled in to the wonders of DSL. I am no longer startled by blazing load speeds. In fact, I occasionally finding myself irritated with our "slow" computer, having already forgotten that the "slow" computer could still whip the pants off our dialup plan, and could pretty much hold it's own with the old HP. But that's humans for ya, never satisfied. A good thing is never enough, we're always reaching out for the next thing, never being happy with what we have. And then you read the winter issue of the Come Over and Help Us magazine about people who don't have enough money to pay for heat, clothes or medicine, who are so happy and overwhelmed at recieving winter boots, oranges, or a Bible. Can you imagine what they would think even of the old Blue Light internet? Are we happier for having it? Is happiness possible without God?
See what college has done to me? It's made me cling to my past, think seriously about the present, and plan for the future. Bah. I'm getting so sick of all this social awareness. And look at me carry on. All I orginally intended to say was that I survived my first semester of college with a 4.0, and that I Aced my Writing class.