Sorry this one isn't funny.

I haven't written in here for a couple of days, seeing as I decided instead to have a nice, quiet weekend instead. It was nice.

Update: I officially have Junioritis. Yes, that is a term. And it's not just something that I made up my junior year of high school because I wanted to feel special like all of the seniors who had some common disease in common, but because Junioritis actually exists, I promise you. 

I first noticed this phenomenon the spring before my senior year of high school. I had done really well in high school thus far, just kind of chillin' out, being an underclassman, coming into my teenage years, you know, the likes, then BAM. All of a sudden, I find that I don't give a single crap about school anymore. Thinking about it, Junior year is kind of like a Thursday night. You kind of still have homework and stuff to do, and things to worry about, but inside your head, there's a part of you that just doesn't care, because tomorrow is Friday, and it'll all sort itself out. That's kind of like Junior year. Except instead of looking forward to a big, fun weekend, you get to look forward to being serious about whatever comes after your weekend, whatever comes next for you. 

So anyway, I have rediscovered this uncanny feeling, and have diagnosed myself yet again, with Junioritis. Except it's a lot less fun this time, because instead of doing insignificant high school work, I'm doing insignificant college work. The only difference is that there is substantially more insignificant work that you can't get away with not doing in college. The next big difference is that when in high school, you look forward to college. In college, you look forward to real life. It's a bit daunting. Honestly though, I've reached a dangerous point in my academic career. 

It's kind of that point where you realise just how long you've been in school. Seriously. I've been in school from the time I was about five years old. That's a long time to spend in a classroom. The past fifteen years of my life have revolved around school, around books, around tests, around teachers. Ridiculous. Now, I know that college is a wonderful opportunity that not everyone gets. I know that these years are being spent in this institution of higher learning just to obtain a little piece of paper that is seemingly very important in a job market. I am well aware of the sacrifices that I have to make to ensure a better future. That's why I'm still here, duh.

In short, I left this post for a while to go eat dinner, but in the meantime, I have googled "tired of college" and have never felt this in touch with the internet community before. So I know it's a real thing, which I should have known, since there's a really low percentage of students who actually end up with degrees after four years. In the meantime, I guess I'll just do it. I only have 11 weeks left, which feels like an eternity, but I guess it'll get here. 

The product of a lazy Friday morning.

So I'm home, and super happy for being in a land where I can walk around and just hear the dead leaves crunching below my feet and the birds chirping. Seriously, I went for a 2.5 hour walk this morning; 20 minutes of my walk involved just standing on a bridge listening to the creek below me. It was just so quiet. And I loved every minute of the silence. Actually, I would have stayed out there all day if I could, but it's freezing and I like the ability to feel my legs.

Sometimes, you really just need to get out and be by yourself out in the open to feel some sort of inner peace and know that everything is gonna work out for you in the end. I am totally a child of the outdoors. But enough about that, because I promised you all shower recliners.

Yes, that's right. Shower recliners. I came up with this idea on Wednesday, which was literally the busiest day I've ever experienced. I had class from 9 am-3:30 pm (with a 30 minute break for lunch), then had to go out for a walk, then went to a flute lesson, then finally went to go get dinner. And that's when it happened. I sat down. But I didn't just sit down anywhere; I sat down on what was the most comfortable booth I had sat in all day. Then immediately, my brain thought of showers for some weird reason. Probably because my favourite place in the world is the shower. I'm totally serious. I would vacation in my shower if I could. I'm quite a shower connoisseur  as well. There has to be the right amount of shower pressure first and foremost. Then the heat of the water must be right. After that come the little luxuries, like how many shower heads there are (like if you have a shower head and then a little hand hose type thing), and what the shower set up is. I can't stand the square shaped showers. And in addition to that, I prefer the attached bath tub, for reasons I do not understand. Maybe it's because I like the added security it gives my feet. Like, if a gun man were to break into my bathroom, at least he would shoot my feet.

Anyways, back to recliners. Last year, I was in a handicap suite in the dorm housing. I have no clue why, but I was pretty awesome. I was on the first floor, meaning I never had to wait for the stupid elevator. If I ever forgot anything, it literally took me about 30 seconds to walk back in and out again. I had a slightly bigger room, with a door that shut very nicely, and a bigger bathroom too. I wasn't a huge fan of the shower, but it wasn't the worst thing I've ever been in. It was kind of a well almost. Like, the floor slanted down into the shower, so you could put a wheelchair in there I guess. And there was one of those fold down chairs you can sit on. So I was thinking, well those are pretty awesome, because at the end of the day, I guess it would be pretty nice to sit down and take a shower, but how much better would it be if it were a recliner???

I know what you're thinking, wouldn't it get wet? Well, it probably would, since it is a recliner in a shower. You could make it out of waterproof stuff, and there don't have to be cushions inside of it, it could be like a water bed recliner. I would love something big and comfy to sit in while I'm enjoying my favourite place in the world. I'm actually tired of writing and I want a shower.

Historical accuracy and social awkwardness at their finest

To begin on a happy note today, has anyone else ever had those days where your social skills are just turned off? A day where your brain does shit, and you're like "What the freaking hell, brain? Why would you do that?" Like, you just blatantly interrupt people while they're talking without even thinking, and when you walk into your building, see that they're working on the elevator, and proceed to press the freaking button. Like, why, brain? Why? You're supposed to be the product of years of evolutionary experimentation. I thought I had this advanced frontal cortex for a reason. Apparently not.

So ordinarily, as would be the case with anyone with any kind of social anxiety, I would expect myself to declare myself a danger to society for the day, lock myself in  my room, and just read a book for the rest of the day. Literature cannot hurt me, and a book would totally not judge me, which is sad, because we constantly have to be told not to judge the books by their covers, when they do nothing except give us knowledge and unconditional love. However, I've decided that I have too many cool ideas to feel down about the social incompetence of my brain, and have decided that I will share them with the world today.

I'll start with the least fun of the two.

First, I have been thinking about history and stuff lately, for reasons completely unknown to me. Like, I'll see a tree, and think to myself about what that tree looked like 400 years ago. It was probably just surrounded by other trees, because this is Maryland, and I'm pretty sure it was just one big forest before the white man got his hands on it, but whatever. Or also, when I'm just standing around, I can't help but think to myself just how many humans have stood on this exact spot before. Maybe I am standing on the exact space that good old Abe Lincoln stood on at some point. I think of how many people have stood around on the sidewalk waiting to cross York Road.

Sometimes when I go into historical buildings, I think it's cooler, because I know famous dead people have been in there. When I was but a wee lassie (and by "wee lassie," I mean like, 10), my dad took me into the house where Lincoln died. He was going to take me into the theatre where he was shot, but that whole day was just "Take your Child to Work Day" gone completely wrong and involved a lot of vomit and inconvenient bus schedules. So we went into the house across from the theatre, and I stood there and stared at the bed where one of the most influential men in all of history took his last breaths. I stood at the end of the bed that somewhere deep down, probably still had Lincoln's dried blood on it. I imagined his huge legs dangling off of the side of the bed, and people surrounding him, full of unimaginable sorrow and fear. I imagine him with a top hat too, even though I shouldn't, because he was definitely shot in the head, and I'm pretty sure they would have taken it off of him. But anyway, my point is that it's too easy to think that history is just a collection of stories, because we are a group of people who has to see things to believe them. When we go to museums, we know that these artifacts and stuff actually existed, but in our brains somewhere, we feel like it's just some giant set up that people built to go along with their stories. But that's totally not true. And once we get past that and we think about how these things actually happened, history is one of the most fascinating things there is.

Whoa, did not mean for that paragraph to happen, but that's quite alright. I'll get back to where I was actually going with this. As I was thinking, about history and stuff, I was thinking how easy it would be to fuck around with the next generation. Seriously, what is actually stopping me from writing up some "sacred religious text," carving it in stone, and burying it in my backyard? Actually, I'll tell you what is, the fact that I'd rather not be an asshole to future human beings. And because I feel totally ashamed at the fact that I just read this stuff that Socrates said about seeking truth and wisdom, and I'm sitting here talking about being the biggest troll in history. Or I could totally take a huge rock, carve something that looks like aliens wrote it, and bury that instead. I could cut open glow sticks and put the glow juice all over the rock too. I guess this would be better, kind of to remind future generations that aliens probably do exist somewhere, and so I wouldn't be as much of an asshole as much as I would simply be keeping them on their toes.

Speaking of keeping you on your toes, this is a pretty long post already, so I think the shower recliners will have to wait until tomorrow, unfortunately.

Thank you, Socrates

If there's anything I have learned very recently, it's that nothing makes you feel more naive and unwise than your 20th birthday. The world expects you to be an adult, and you're stuck in a teenage mindset. You're kind of like, what do you mean I'm an adult? If I can't buy beer, than surely, I am not an adult. Adulthood can wait until I have a bottle of wine to deal with it all. 

Even more recently too, I have had a philosophy class. Now, I haven't gotten the chance yet to be very wise, since the professor has cancelled class more than half of the time. This guy even went to the trouble of emailing us all to tell us there was no class Friday, and I'm all like, I know. You know how I know? Because on my schedule, it says that I have this class on Monday and Wednesday... So yeah. However, today was the first day we've had class in about two weeks, and for once, has been a class that I really took a lot more out of than I should. We read "Apology" by Plato, which was the speech that Socrates allegedly gave in his defense at his trial.

Now, if there's a better person to listen to at this point in my life, it's Socrates. This guy is all about the wisdom. This guy is also about the whole soul searching concept, which is a pretty good thing to be worried about at this point in my life. I'm 20 now, so naturally, all of a sudden, I find myself asking myself what I want out of life. What do I want to do? Who do I want to surround myself with? What are the morals that I hold dear and true? What do I think is right and wrong? When the hell am I going to get this show on the road and go out and do shit? As you can see, it's quite a trying time. Even more trying is to surround myself with people who have all of that figured out. Then I realise that I'm just being jealous and impatient with life, and that my time for everything will come. 

Now, if there's one thing I've always known, it's that I know absolutely nothing. Sometimes, honestly, I get in these mindsets where I really feel as though I'm figuring everything out, and everything's coming easily to me, then life knocks me on my butt. Maybe that's why that happens though. Maybe we need to be reminded that we know nothing sometimes. Maybe I need to be reminded that I still have a long way to go, so that I get up and keep going. One of Socrates' points he brings up at his trial is to say that without him being the "annoying fly that he is," that the state would just waste away. There would be no incentive for the state to get together and advance, because when you become comfortable in your state of being, you almost waste away. 

It's like people who take the elevator to go to the second floor. Yeah, you've made your life a little bit easier, but how does taking the easy way out make you a better person? I talk to people who have had to overcome adversities in their lives, and I see how much stronger it has made them. I have been very fortunate to not have suffered many adversities, but when life does get us down, we cannot let it get the best of us, because these moments are here to make us stronger and better people. 

It's just as applicable to my life in other ways too. My goal in life is to be happy and at the end of my life, know that I led a happy, fulfilling life. We do only live once. There is no escaping the reality that we will die. All we can do is take as much out of life as we can, not let our fears of what could happen hold us back, and basically be an open book, taking notes as we go along and gain experiences. 

I guess the best thing that Socrates has told me today, is that it's foolish to fear the unknown. He mentions at his trial that there is no point in worrying about death because he doesn't know anything about it. According to my philosophy professor, "it's like saying that a restaurant is bad before you even go there." This is a useful statement in all aspects of life too. Why should I fear the future? It hasn't happened yet. My future could be really fucking awesome. I mean, yeah, it could be really bad too, but honestly, if I don't know, then why should I decide to only dwell on the bad? Maybe I should be excited, since there is a chance that everything will be just fine and dandy. That would be a much more productive use of my time, right? As long as I just keep on going, and continue to strive toward being a better person, sticking to my guns when necessary and not letting things get me done, then my life will work out just fine. And I mean that. 

I promise, dogs and Ethiopian children have nothing to do with each other

I've become a victim of one of life's biggest frustrations. I was laying in bed, ready to drift off to sleep, and BAM, my head is filled with great ideas. I would tell the world what they are, but I CAN'T REMEMBER ANY OF THEM. They floated out of my head while I was asleep and they are never returning. I can only hope that one day, after I die, I am taken to another dimension where I will be reunited with all of my lost ideas.

I have a lot of random thoughts today.

1. I have discovered yet another reason why I need a dog. I drop a lot of food on the floor on accident, only when I do it here in my apartment, I actually have to clean it up. Then I'm stuck with a personal dilemma of whether or not I throw it away, because on one hand, there are starving children in Ethiopia, but on the other hand, it's not as though I really have all the time in the world to dance around with the vacuum cleaner. I'm a college student, not a 1950's housewife. So a dog may actually help me to stay clean, since it would always be picking up after me.

2. College has helped me discover yet another thing about the world. People my age apparently have no regard or respect for ketchup. How disappointing too, because ketchup is the most classic of all the condiments. It has a winning personality that just goes with everything. It is versatile, and is very compatible with everything. One would think that these are good enough reasons to respect ketchup, but apparently not. Going for a walk around campus, I can find at least three places where I have almost walked into spilled ketchup. This pisses me off for a couple of reasons.

     One: There are starving children in Ethiopia who don't have ketchup. They also don't have fries to put it on, but that's just one of many, many problems that Ethiopia has.

     Two: I would rather not walk around tracking red stuff everywhere. Ketchup does not take well to white shirts, and it probably also does not take well to white carpet. Also, I'd like to not have people think that I just came from a murder scene. Seriously, what if somebody was murdered the same day that I happen to walk through a giant pile of ketchup? That's inconvenience at its very best. I'm sure the police totally know the difference between ketchup and blood, but I would not be given back any time that I was judged up and down by other people.

3. Why don't we have a big chute that goes directly to Ethiopia? I know this has been on EVERYONE'S mind at some point in their life. Your mom takes your plate, calls you a spoiled little brat for wasting half of your food, begins the conversation about starving children, and you come up with the whole "giant trash chute" idea. I know everyone's done it at some point. If we have so many leftovers, why don't we just give them all to the starving children? Well, now that I'm older and wiser, I can say that this is a terrible idea.

     One: There are starving children everywhere. If this big trash chute is built, who says that the starving      children in Ethiopia are any better than the starving children in Moldova? Or Baltimore? We cannot build a network of "leftover food" chutes across the world. Or maybe we can. Maybe this idea is what will get me my wikipedia page one day. "Emily Day: She came up with the idea and design for a network of chutes that deliver unwanted leftover food directly to starving children." It's good, but I'll hold myself to a higher standard, since I can do better than "designer of a network of food chutes."

     Two: They're people, not vultures. No other human being deserves half of an old sandwich with a bite taken out of it. This probably should have been number one actually...

     Three: How else would we get children to eat their damn vegetables? America is fat, and we really need any cliche excuse we can get to force feed our children vegetables. I would not put myself above using guilt to do it. That's an emotional appeal, duh. We don't learn about that in English class for nothing.

So with that comes my next idea

4. I think instead of coming up with complex ideas for trash chutes, we should just go befriend a starving child and invite them over to dinner once a week. One day I'd like to think that I'll have enough money to do this, but then I do come back to reality and remember the liberal arts degree that I'm working towards. If anything though, I will be able to tell you where the concentration of starving children are and I will be able to make you a map for reference. Any little bit helps, right?

5. Another reason I need a dog. Because I obviously have enough time on my hands to think of all of this shit. Maybe I do need something to take over the rest of my free time.

The teletubbies: the real face of diversity. And douchebaggery.

For some weird reason unknown to me, I've wanted to write about the Teletubbies all day. Probably because I was watching tv last night, and that commercial came on where McDonald's talks about how much they value diversity but you see that every single employee is black. Last time I checked, if 100% of your workforce is of the same race, you are the exact opposite of diverse.

So this got me thinking about diversity, which led me to the Teletubbies. Now, looking back on it, that is the most fucked up show I've ever seen (sorry mom, but it is). But it is pretty diverse when you think about it. Just look at the characters.

Tinkie Winkie was obviously the most flaming big mutant, furry, robot, whatever those things were. I actually just checked. Wikipedia refers to them as a "mythological species," but I refuse to put them in the same category as unicorns. But anyway, he was purple, his antenna was an upside down triangle, and he had this big ass zebra bag that he carried around with him everywhere. If you're offended at this point, by the way, you can stop reading, because I don't care. There was nothing wrong with the fact that he was gay, but there's also no denying the fact that he was.

Dipsy looked as though he was severely economically disadvantaged. His face was really, really dirty. That, or they tried to make him the minority Teletubby, but they did a really bad job with the makeup and it ended up being really uneven. Of course, this was a British show, so they probably don't have much experience with tans. According to the Internet, they wanted to make him black and were just really bad at makeup.

Okay, Laa-Laa was obviously the special one. All the others have normal antenna shapes and hers is this weird squiggly line thing. Plus, I mean, her name really says it all.

And Po is an albino midget. Actually the Internet says she is Cantonese. So I guess never mind. Apparently she is just the one who cusses the others out in a foreign language when they piss her off.

Now the vacuum. This is where the discussion on diversity ends, and the sympathy for the vacuum begins. Seriously, the teletubbies all live together in this little Viking style house, built into a field, but hi-tech as shit, where they basically just party all day long. They eat all this custard, which has to be spiked with something, considering the fact that they are incoherent and the sun is a baby's face on fire. So guess what is poor vacuum does. That's right, it cleans up after these irresponsible jerks. They live in this little hi-tech frat house. They tickle the vacuum until it vomits custard everywhere and then they make it clean it up again. It's like some kind of fucked up act of hazing. Vacuum, you deserve better than that. Just leave them to clean up their own mess.

Now, I've ranted enough about the teletubbies, I guess it's time to delete my Internet history, so that the world doesn't think I'm on drugs.

My own Wikipedia legacy

Alright, so this morning I've completely given up on sleep, since last night I had a dream that a cat was constantly biting my fingers as I tried to go to sleep, then I got up around 3 am and tossed and turned, then I finally got back to sleep and woke up now, so I think it's safe to say sleep is just not happening this morning. Thank you, cat. I bet my body actually just had this fear to see it again when I went back to sleep, so instead of dreaming, my subconscious was like, sleeping with one eye open to keep watch for the cat.

For once, I actually have no clue what to write about this morning. So I guess I will just have to start with one of those random thoughts that I have.

My life goal is to have my own Wikipedia page. 
I once edited Wikipedia. It felt empowering. I went to a Wikipedia page on corn, and changed the word "increased" to the word "decreased." I felt so bad. But it was like one of those instances that no one really cares about. It's like when you use limewire for the first time and you download one illegal song and you're like "hey guys... You'll never believe what I just did!" And everyone else is like "uh, yeah join the club." Or like when you have one glass of wine at a family meal at the age of 14 and you feel so bad because you're totally convinced that you were SO DRUNK. And then you go around talking about how much you love wine and everyone else is like, "Okay, cool, you want a cookie?"

Anyways, tangents aside, I'm kind of at a disadvantage here, because I kind of waited until the late 20th century to start existing. Seriously. Do you know how many people have lived before me, and how many legacies have been created? There can only be one Adele. There can only be one Abraham Lincoln. Unfortunately, there can be an obscene amount of untalented pop singers, but I have more respect for myself than to write a song about a day of the week. I mean, people these days have to get more and more creative to become memorable. Just look at Mumford & Sons. In the midst of a world of shitty pop music they were like "BAM. Folk music." They basically became famous overnight. Now you'll notice that you hear more folk music, but for some reason it doesn't have the same popularity as Mumford & Sons.*

*a disclaimer about Mumford & Sons: first of all, I am well aware of the fact that there is a lot of really good folk music out there. I listen to it. I have absolutely no clue why Mumford & Sons became more popular than some of the others. Now for the hipsters, who feel the need to hate on Mumford & Sons just because they are a popular band playing folk music, lighten up. They are a good band. You don't need to hate every single thing that is popular because you are superior to the masses.

Now, back to what I was saying. Kind of disadvantaged here. Every passing moment, i have bigger and bigger shoes to fill. However, all of those people had something in common. They took something that they loved and had a decent talent at, and they made something of themselves. I think that sometimes, that is all you need. There will be talented musicians, talented artists, talented writers, actors/actresses, political figured, etc, who will all, one day, earn their own Wikipedia page for perfecting their talents and never giving up. Unfortunately, there will also be a lot of assholes who also earn their own Wikipedia page for perfecting their talent of just being an asshole, like Hitler. And Kim Kardashian, who I guess isn't so much of an asshole as she is "useless, untalented, spoiled rotten whiny bitch." Whatever happens though, it's not like I need my legacy to be on a web page. There are Wikipedia pages for people who probably go unread anyway. Besides, half of the Wikipedia pages I read anyway are on fictional characters on tv shows.