I Hate You Toshiba

I realized I’m a nerd. I LOVE my computer. I’m obsessed. My good old Toshiba holds all my secrets and stories from the past three years. Unfortunately, last night… my baby died.

Good thing my mom’s a psycho and always tells me to back up my shit because I pretty much have everything that matters on the USB… Nice.… except my Sport’s photography portfolio that contains over a hundred pictures and is due in two weeks… Fuck You Toshiba.

As I was having a minor melt down, my roommates started to cheer in extreme excitement.

“NO MORE BLOGGING. NO MORE BLOGGING”

As the tears fell helplessly from my eyes they continued with cheesy comments like “til death do us part” and “blog or die!”

I found their humor cruel.

Then I cursed them out and decided to eat mini wheats to ease the passing. Surprisingly, it hardly helped.

After taking it to the Tech department this afternoon, they explained that I just had a faulty battery.

What!?

I was pissed. By this point I had grown a sick hatred for Toshiba and decided I was so over HP and I was definitely moving on to Mac. I heard Mac had more to offer and was free of STD’s, who the hell knows what Toshiba had…Let’s just say I’m not happy.

The good news is, in the midst of all this computer drama, I was able to create a YouTube video of the poem I posted the other day. Might-As-Well-Be-Virgin-2 put it together.

Me: It turned out alright thanks dude.
M-A-W-B-V-2: no problem.
Me: Do you like the poem?
M-A-W-B-V-2: not my favorite… mmm nope.
Me: oh, okay… well umm thanks anyways.

So here, you can check out the video if you really want. It’s not my favorite either, and if you think M-A-W-B-V-2 knows what she is talking about, I definitely wouldn’t waste my time pressing that play button.

Outside the Lines

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Outside the Lines

Picture this: I’m on the living room couch (on the computer) Red and PE Teacher are stomping up the stairs towards their rooms (we were in a fight about something I obviously initiated.)

Red: Go ahead Hannah get the last word in like you always do…

Me: I plan on it.

PE Teacher: I’m gonna go upstairs and act like I’m mad at youuuu!

Red: Go Fuck Yourself Hannah.

Me: I’ll think about it…

Two minutes later PE Teacher walks back downstairs.

She throws my red blanket on me and shouts “Here! I don’t want your stupid blanket anymore!”

I laugh and she sits down and begins to talk about the weekend plans.

Five minutes later Red walks down.

Red: I’m not even ready for bed yet I was just being dramatic. (In a whiney “You have to forgive me” voice”)

So much for that fight.

I was so bored last night, PE Teacher spent most of the night helping Might-As-Well-Be-Virgin-1 buy a new cell phone and Red was hooked to the books… BORING.

So I called over little Baby for entertainment. I left her a message that made me sound like I was extremely sad and needed to talk, so she rushed over from night class.

FINALLY!  Let’s play!

Unfortunately she had no intentions of hanging out with me, but she did leave me with a picture she had drawn during class. My boredom combined with her picture resulted in a little poem called Outside the Lines. Enjoy.

There is one window in my third story, 1:00pm, English classroom.

One. Fucking. Window.

Are they trying to keep me hostage?

Stop it …

Cause my mind has scribbled so far outside the lines,

Can’t stop doodling the life I can’t find.

Give me more windows…

I need glass to glare through

I swear that I can’t stand another day in this mustard colored brick built room

I have birds to count and dreams to fuel

There is green, green grass awaiting my day dreams.

 Puffy cloud airplanes saving me a seat

Take me away.

Take me away from this dull yellow pencil, leave me in front of a window, just one more window.

I need a picture to write, something to see, something worth noticing.

This coffee stained carpet isn’t painting the ideal scene,

I need bigger things… a window.

I just need…  I need…

Am I the only one that thinks this way!?

I know I forgot to take my medicine today, but these notes I wrote on 4-5-2011 are covered with a tree.

I want to grow.

I want to grow beyond this classroom

Spread my branches farther than this little town.

I want to fall.

Fall freely with the leaves, but skip the ground and spread my wings

See I want to fly… fly far, far and around to wherever the wind takes me.

Take me.

Take me from this classroom.

Take me from these dream capturing walls and this limiting ceiling.

Reveal me.

Cause right now I’m stuck in this broken blue seat

With a picture of this tree and notes that will technically…

Well, definitely fail me,

But I do wonder what is more satisfying,

A boring reality in the right state of mind or a life outside the lines?

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Sunny Days

Do you like pina colada’s … and getting caught in the rain?

I do.

Sunny days rock my world. Everyone is happy and everyone comes out to play. We’ve been playing since 2. Don’t worry, a video was made by our very own Baby.... it's coming later keep reading...

So, I spent the day wasting away eating PE Teacher's grilled chicken and watching Might-As-Well-Be-Virgin-2 try to long board... so gnarly broooo.

I would now like to tell you about a story Dick FAILED to mention to me. Luckily it finally got revealed today.

Dick was asked to throw the OPENING pitch at the Nationals game a few weeks ago. The rest of us were home on spring break so no wonder we missed the excitement. One of his friends works for the Nationals, so Dick’s military credentials landed him a spot on the mound…

FAIL.

He claims he was hung over and the game was too early in the morning but the truth is, he choked… miserably. Up went the pitch and moments later, the backstop and ten thousand fans rattled in disbelief.

For those who don’t know, fucking up the opening pitch is bad news/ bad omen/ bad fucking luck.

Needless to say the Nat’s got their asses kicked that game … obviously all thanks to Dick.

God I love that story.

FYI: Prior to attending Shepherd University, Dick attended WVU and was a member of the baseball team. Position= pitcher. Due to a career ending injury, he decided to leave. I somehow find the fact that he was once a division one pitcher very interesting after hearing his backstop story… priceless.

Enjoy the show...

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FIRE

I too jumped on the VCU bandwagon… and now I’m off.

The only black girl in the house almost just burnt it down... for any idiots in the world, paper towels will burn. Luckily, Might-As-Well-Be-Virgin-2 is super fast and used her quick thinking to snatch up the flaming towels and throw it in the kitchen sink.

Everyone screamed and started to plot their escape for the door, but not me. I sat and watched in utter disbelief at how ignorant the situation was. As the flames lit up I started to think... there is no way I'm sacrificing my broken foot for this shit.

This house is full of idiots...

MOVING ON. Last night my ego boosted ten notches. Two chicks from CNU were in town visiting PE Teacher. In their drunken state they barged in to my room around midnight (Yes, I was already drooling, foot still propped, squeezing my pillow a little too close).

They asked if I was going to come out with them and proceeded to say “we just wanted to meet the famous so college blog writer.”

And that’s all I needed.

I slept peacefully the rest of the night and treated myself to a cookie for breakfast. Totally deserved it.

Speaking of cookies, I’ve decided that I should probably start taking my beach bod a little more seriously. Might-As-Well-Be-Virgin 1 and 2, PE Teacher, Red and I are heading to Red’s beach house in 5 weeks. I’m seriously considering switching out ice cream for cucumbers and the channel-changer for a six pound weight… I’ll let you know how it goes.

Anyways, I spent all day wishing it was raining out so I had an excuse to lay in bed. It didn’t rain, but that didn’t stop me. I finally rolled out around four and stuffed my face with anything 420 had to offer… a hard day’s work deserves a hardy meal.  

The doorknob of our front door came off. No big deal... it happens all the time.  I have to go find a way to let PE Teacher in.

Goodbye.

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