"Marriage is Soul-Killing Bondage"

The reason for my hermitage on this freezing Friday evening is a big reasearch paper due tuesday. Luckily, however, I am writing it on undoubtedly THE most BADASS woman of the century (19th or 20th, take your pick): Emma Goldman. And get this:






Familiar looking?

Wait, There's English on the MCAT?

It has not so recently come to my attention that I blog a shit ton more than everyone else here, but I never quite figured out why. I am aware that about 1/3 of my posts are/have been crappy emotional drivel, but even if you factor out that the ratio of my blogging to any one else on our little island* still stands strong. is it that, despite having a comparable lifestyle to anyone else here and just as little free time, I just think up more things that are blogworthy? Or is my definition of blogworthy just incredibly low?

Answers. Please.



*I say island because almost everyone who reads this blog has their own blog that is linked to it, as well as to the other readers' blogs, but to very few other places. The result of this is a small, intertwined network of blogs that I tend to imagine like a scarcely populated Island in the middle of the great ocean of the Blogosphere. I've actually spent some time clicking the ambigous "next blog" button on the top bar in hopes of finding yet another little colony similar to ours, but to no avail. (If i did have some sucess, it was either in a foreign language, or chronicaling the incredibly uninteresting lives of some group of devout religious families. Obviously not nearly as cool as us.)

Take That, Bitchy English Teacher

My old highschool advisor was interviewing an alum's kid for admission the other day. The alum remarked that the school nolonger had Sunday Chapel, and before my advisor chimed in to tell the story, he said...

"Yeah, I heard some kid wrote an essay and pursuaded the headmaster"


I am an urban legend. My life = complete.

On The Bright Side, I Now Own The Most Pimpin' Bathrobe Ever

It must be said-19 is a pretty insignificant birthday. Right before it there's the epic 18- legal adulthood in most cases, plus cigarettes, porn, and lotto tickets. Right after it there's twenty- no longer a teenager by any definition, and an age that starts with a two, signalling a whole two decades of existance. But what is 19 good for? Well, it's a prime number, and you can drink in some parts of Canada. Now everyone loves Canada, but is anyone really bothered about it? no.

It's Not Over Until You've Peed In The Woods

Ladies and gentlemen, let me show you just how committed I am to this country:


October 31st, 2008 (3 Buisness days until Election Day)

4:15 pm- Juicy finishes up researching and finalizes her ballot.

4:25 pm- Juicy arrives at the campus post office, finding it closed and lacking stamps.

4:30 pm- The time the campus post office was supposed to remain open till (grunt)

4:35- Juicy, deeply fearing her ballot might not reach the homestate in time for election day, thus further enabling a victory of the evil Sarah Palin (that's pronounced PAY-lin by the way. No, really, if she can tell me whether or not I can keep my own baby I can tell her how to pronounce her own last name) starts walking downtown.

4:40 pm- Juicy catches a bus taking her to the central post office in her town. (hopefully open later)

4:45-past 5pm - Time spent by local post office employee chatting it up with a customer after he had processed her package in under a fifth of that time. Not to be a bitch and break up the earlybird lovefest over there, but seriously...at least get a room that's not federally owned.

4:50 Time juicy, thanks to another more efficient post office worker, gets to the counter and purchases stamps.

4:52 pm- Juicy votes (for the first time, ever!), just making the last wave of outgoing mail.