I quit until tomorrow

So tonight in my Secondary English Methods class I had to teach a language study lesson. Not too bad, right? Our group went the second week of presentations, and the other groups last week did a fantastic job, so our group was sure to succeed. 

Hmm. 

Well as many of you know, I have the tendency in certain situations, to be a complete asshole. I prefer to think of myself as an hilarious realist. Or an asshole. So this is how I respond to many lessons taught. I joke with the "teachers," I answer questions, what have you. Because I am the class asshole, I should probably give the most kick-ass presentation, right? I mean, I have to prove that I'm more than just... an asshole. 

Well, my group did not so well. In fact, I feel as though we were pretty terrible, mainly me. I could barely answer the questions thrown at me about pronouns and I felt like I had to speed through the lesson. None of the other groups had this much trouble! This makes me reconsider my career of becoming a teacher. I mean, I'll probably still do it. I am getting a Master's in Education. What else am I gonna do with that? 

Complain complain complain. Maybe I just won't teach anything. I'll open the class with, "No lesson today, or ever. Good luck with college apps, fuckers!" And then I'll prop my feet up on my desk and read.  

Rufus is a tit man

So this past Friday was my 23rd birthday (woo!) and I was supposed to go to NYC to visit a truly amazing BFFL. Unfortunately, my funds are quite low, and I had to forego the trip. Sad, I know. Anyway, so I get a call from said friend on Saturday about how Rufus Wainwright was playing in the park like 2 feet away from her. For those of you who don't know, Rufus is my favorite singer of all time. I have three tattoos all having to do with his songs. I've seen him in concert twice. I have two of his t-shirts. Obsession. 

So, she meets him. SHE MEETS RUFUS WAINWRIGHT. she got his autograph for me, but SHE MET HIM. I guess that's what I get for breaking plans. 

And there you have it. Now I must get back to studying. How was your 23rd birthday? 

My own personal hellvetica

Dear reader(s) (that parensed "s" is the optimist in me), 

This is my second attempt at a blog. I failed at the last one, mainly because I was trying to be funny. Which, I discovered through reading my own posts, I am not. 

I decided to start anew. A brand new blog that's not even house-trained yet. It sure is cute though. 

Why the play on spelling, you ask? Well, as I am coming to find, life after undergrad is not as glamorous as I once thought it might be. Yes, I am in grad school (5 points), and yes I do live with my parents (minus 50).

This blog will be the writings of my own personal hellvetica. Emo enough for you? (Is that a tired reference now?) I just like puns. 

Thus ends the first entry. Mayhaps I'll put up bits of the short story I'm writing later? We'll see.