Sorry for the late reply.

I hate emails. Absolutely abhor them. I don't know how I should address people. If you're not my friend or a member of my family. I have no idea what to call you. It upsets me. I don't want to sound curt or moronic. I just hate emails.

Truthfully, I like them more than phone calls. I don't even know what to say to friends and family on the phone. I guess this is a symptom of my social awkwardness.

This was all brought about by my email exchange with a professor about a final paper topic, and my frustration is paramount right now.

I think I would make an awesome spokes person

I have a few self esteem problems, but there is one thing that makes me feel pretty: mascara. You can't go wrong with long, full lashes.

I've been on a search for the best mascara. I think I've found the best one yet. The Falsies mascara from Maybelline. I almost feel like my eyes are caged in...but in a good way. I was skeptical about how well it would work, because makeup promises usually aren't fulfilled, but it does look like I have on false lashes. I think I've found my mascara. I am a little giddy.

Here's a before!  

and this is the after (after a long day of wear too). 

I was destined to be a lazy kid.

There is one thing I like about the cold. That feeling you get when you crawl into bed. I guess I just don't have adequate winter clothing, because that is the warmest moment of my day. In the morning it will come back to get you, especially you have something to do that day, and getting out of bed seems like the end of the world. I love being bundled up. I don't like the cold, but being wrapped in blankets is the most amazing feeling, so I guess it's worth it. 

There is something about fall.

I'm also very fond of spring. The mild temperatures and feeling of coming change are exciting.

I like the beautiful colors and watching the leaves gracefully find a new home on the ground. It makes me think of cider and apple festivals and pumpkin picking and the Cleveland County Fair. The fair is one of the most celebrated occasion of the year in my book. When I was a kid, we would go every year. I would eat funnel cake or cotton candy and immediately regret it when I got on any ride. We would walk through the show hall and see all the things that won prizes and go look at all the animals. Sometimes my parents would play a game of 'who knows the most people here.' My dad usually won since he is from Cleveland County.

I, also, absolutely love halloween. My best friend and I usually carve a pumpkin, make caramel apples, hand out candy to trick-or-treaters, and watch old scary movies.  Halloween doesn't rank as high in my heart as Xmas does, but I'd have to say it's a close second.

I love fall.

Glimpse at my future.

Oh yeah, I'm going to be a teacher.

I guess I'm a little frightening. 

I actually told my friend to make this picture so she would be more motivated to do her homework. However, it doesn't work unless you set it as the background of your computer.

I wish I could finish this story.

Here' s a little piece of my writing:            

            In a large empty room with two doors on either side, there was a bulletin board that jutted out awkwardly on the south wall that had no door. It was littered with papers new and old cluttered together yearning for a moment of attention. The air in the room was stale and it hung limp as if it had never been graced with the presence of life.

            The door on the east wall flew open, which caused the abandoned papers to lift in anticipation. A young woman of normal stature and plain features marched into the room carrying a menacing scowl and an ill will for the person behind the opposite door.

            “I can’t believe this!”

            She snatched a stray paper from the board and continued to storm through the stale room. She turned the door knob of the opposite door only to find it locked.

I have about 21 pages of this, but I've become uninspired despite my desire to finish it.  

Schockingly

I used to love this picture and would use it all the time. Oddly enough, I still like it. I look very shocked.

"The Brave Cowboy" Dale Brittain

I just thought everyone would enjoy a nice song from my daddy.

Have a wonderful day,
Anne

Oh the things I could do....

I'm exhausted. I'm hungry. And my brain is fried from all this knowledge my professors keep trying to shove in there. I want it to be summer very badly right now, and I've only been in class three and a half weeks. Yes, I am pathetic.

I just spent the last two days trying to make my blog look all spiffy. It was hard, but I used a whole bunch of layouts and tricks from Cutest Blog on the Block, which is a super fine website.

Oh, I have some hilarious pictures of my mother and I, that I thought I would share, because I truly am a giving person.

Something attracted us to the bling teeth.
It might have been my father pointing them out.
I maintain that my mother is a bad influence on me.

I don't think this is what I signed up for.

I just want you to know that if/when I have a nervous breakdown it was indeed all my fault.

I have spent my beautiful, sunny, mild weekend reading. I don't mean curled up with a good book sipping tea reading ( I adore that), no I mean heavy text book, mundane reading. As a college student, this is not a new phenomenon, but the duration of this studiousness has gotten ridiculous. No one should spend their entire weekend swimming in the dark waters of academia.

I did pick my classes with little regard for my own sanity, so I suppose it's not my place to complain. I still want to though.

It doesn't help that my body is, now after twenty-ish years for the first time, getting the proper number of calories (instead of excessively more). I'm hungry, tired, and overworked. Bring on Xmas, so I can finish this farce of a semester.

It seems I only blog when I want to bitch about school.

Rightfully so, I suppose.

My classes start Tuesday, and my plate is overflowingly full. Just looking over two of the sylabi for my classes gave me a headache. It also gave me the impression that my education professor is a hippie. I mean the real deal type of hippie. She is concerned about the environment and gives off the "lets hold hands and sing" vibe.

I kind of want it to still be summer:

 

Lack of sleep coupled with a longer than usual car journey has exhausted me. I feel as if I'm going to nod off any minute and I still have to unpack all my crap. I definantly have some procrastination issues. Blogging instead of cleaning.

Roomie is also hosting a soiree here this evening, so sleeping will probably not happen anytime soon.

Just more proof, I should be living in a different era

I'm really a middle aged woman at heart. You could probably tell this solely from my fashion decisions. Today, I'm wearing a green top with puffy shoulders and cuffed capris with black scandals. It is even more evident when I'm having coffee with my vibrantly dressed roomie or my young at heart best friend (who says she acts like a grandma, but I tend to disagree).

I watch television with my mother, an actual middle aged woman. I actually go shopping with my mom and tell her what would look best, and we share clothes from time to time. This is odd because we have different body types and I'm a good four inches taller than she is. She borrows my clothes mostly come to think of it.

I like James Taylor and Carole King along with other musicians that usually find on the play list of the Baby-Boomers. I actually went to the Troubadour Reunion Tour for JT and CK, and I was one of the few young adults there.

I read classic literature more than works recently published. My two favorite authors are Oscar Wilde and Jane Austen both who worked in the nineteenth century for the most part. I have a thing for vintage things that I can't explain, because I have this weird aversion to previously used things (but that's a different crazy story for a different boring time).

I like more youthful things as well, but for the most part I prefer things that my parents seem to enjoy. I'm just missing the wisdom and maturity that comes with these refined tastes of mine.

Insomnia: I guess it could be worse.

I can't sleep. Sadly two am has become my new normal bedtime and yet I still can't sleep. My family (and I mean the whole famdambly) is going to Charleston on vacation tomorrow, so I guess I'm a little excited about that, but I don't know if that would affect my sleeping pattern. I dropped my dog off with my bestie and I'm used to having his paws pressed into my back as I sleep, but I don't know if that is it either. I just can't sleep. I'm pretty much done packing too so I can't even use this time to be productive.

I am not going to be nice in the morning. I guess I can sleep in the car if the need arises.

So now I get to spend a solid seven days with people that will most likely drive me insane. I won't even have whatshisface or bestie there to break up the monotony. Too bad I'm a couple months too young to inhale liquor (you know just incase things hit a snag). Oh by the way, Charleston SC (because I utterly despise West Virginia) is by far my favorite place in America. I'm just super saiyan.

As I look at months of neglected Chemistry, I realize

I know I do a fair amount of bitching at the end of every semester, because I, by nature, am very lazy. This is not helped by the fact that in the past minimal effort would suffice. I'm not some genius that destroys curves and blurts out answers to rhetorical questions, but without studying I can usually get a B. It's more of a curse than a blessing. It keeps me lazy and boosts my ego to this uncontrollable beast.

Oh, and here is the kicker. When I do study, I spend more time on the subjects I'm more likely to ace without the effort, because I usually like them better. And I don't want to even try with things that it's conceivable that I could fail. That's how I get As and Ds on the same grading period, although I haven't really done that since high school.

I guess the fundamental lesson here is that my moderately high GPA is not a real reflection of my character. Plus, I despise chemistry and all its little science buddies.

A long line of little bag-of-hell women

I am a bag-of-hell woman. It is not something I have control over. My great aunts both were very strong women that would do anything they had to do to get what they wanted. Frances ran for a seat on her town council when it was unheard of for women to hold office (at least in NC), while Verona had a technician job that was predominantly held by men. I'm also some sort of cousin with the first woman to be a chief justice in the state of NC, Susie Sharp.

My grandmother does not really have this trait, because those aunts I was referring to were my grandfather's sisters. My mother, aunt, and I , however, did inherit this slightly frightening personality trait.

I'm not abrasive or anything (most of the time). I'm polite and generally a nice person, but don't even think about getting in my way, because I will mow you down. It won't be pretty. It's one of those strong women things I share with my mother (and a whole long list of other women that look kind of like me).

You may mistakenly believe I have some sort of feminist leaning because of all those women, but it's quite the opposite. I never felt as if I couldn't do anything I damn well pleased because of those crazy ladies. I know I'm standing on the shoulders of giants and they shattered the glass ceiling before I even got a chance to look at it, but I don't think they would want me to think that I would ever have to struggle with sexism.

Isn't that the point of equal rights? That no one even sees the lines anymore? Because I defiantly don't see the lines. I don't see them between gender, race, religion anything. We're all different and whatever, but we're all capable of the same basic functions. Anyone can be smart or play a sport or fix a car. That's just the way I feel, and maybe I'm the only one.

But it was that long line of Bag-of-hell women that told me that we're all just people, and we all are just people.


Here's a little anecdote about great aunt Frances:
When she bought new clothes, she would bring them home in laundry bags and take the tags off. Then when her husband, Charlie asked her if she had just bought it when he saw her wear them, she would reply :"Charlie, you old dog! I've had these clothes forever. I can't believe you have never noticed them before!"

I'm genetically inclined to stir up trouble. I do and say anything I want, because that's the way it is in my family.

I'm a smidgen overwhelmed. Just a smidgen.

Today my NC History professor told me I didn't look like the type to have tattoos and that I must have a wild side. It made me wonder what I look like. I mean I thought people would expect people like me to have tattoos, but then again I don't look the way I act.

It is almost time for me to register for classes for next semester and one of the ones I want is already full, which prompted me to rant about priority registration, because honors and teaching fellow kids are lucky bastards. If I stalk the registration page enough, I'll get the classes I want so don't worry. I'll probably just get 15 hours for now and stalk and stalk and stalk and stalk until I get that one class and I'll be up to 18 hours, and if you are familiar with college credit hours that is indeed a lot, and I am indeed crazy. But you knew that.

I have a speech proficiency test tomorrow. It is a requirement to get into the college of ed. I think it is dumb, but I exempted out of the pain in the butt requirement so I'll let this go.

I also have to do some volunteer work so I don't get kicked out of he honor society. I only have 4 of the required 15 points, so I need to get on the ball. If I hadn't already blown so much money on this, I would probably just quit, because I don't really have the time for it, and I'm going to just join the History and Social Science Honors societies, because you just pay them money and they give you chords and leave you alone. I guess I'll give it a good college try and if I get kicked out I'll leave it at that.

Yay college!

Another fun fact about Anne:

I pick the salt off of pretzels. I am that boring. I'm a monotone voice away from being the cure for insomnia. Just so you know.



UPDATE:
I have a lap full of salt due to this peculiar habit.

Most college kids are getting drunk on a beach. I'm basking in the glow of 60 degrees.

I know why pretty people are so mean. It's being hungry and then having to be mad at yourself when you do break down and cram as many twizzlers (the sweet and sour kind) down your faces as humanly possible. At least in my experience that is. I love twizzlers by the way. I've lost four lbs, but I have so many more to go and dwelling on the subject will probably just depress me further. On to happy things...

I have recently descended the mountain to enjoy the warmth of the lower lands. Sadly, 60 degrees is  shorts and tank tops weather to any ASU you'll ever meet. It's really refreshing to not have piles of snow obscuring your sense of humanity. I'm a little mad that during my spring break is when Boone decides that bearable temperatures are a good idea. 

I wish I were on a sand dune:

Time to get things started.

So begins the torture of dieting.

I've started calorie counting (887.5 in case you were wondering). No worries, I'm still eating well, and I'm not done eating just yet, but I'm trying to keep it under 2,000. I can't exercise a lot right now, because there is snow up to my ass outside (almost literally). I'm doing a few sit-up circuit training type things my bestie taught me in the mean time, but that doesn't really make weight loss easy so I have to cut a few more calories than in the future until it stops snowing and I can go jogging.

When I get desperate to lose weight and need something to motivate me, I might actually post my weight and bmi and stuff. For right now, I just want to sulk in private.

The death of me

All right, so I'm not fairing so well on this whole eating well thing. Well, I've cut down on the sheer amount I eat, which I guess could be put in the win column. The things I eat, however, don't seem to be getting any better. I ate a big ole stack of pancakes for dinner. Roomie brought home the kind you add water to the bottle and shake. I made the whole thing upon her request, and we each ate half. I'm not too proud of that, but the only other thing I had eaten today was a Special K bar, so I blame lack of nutrition for my lapse in judgement.


Here's a little visual of something I've been known to eat:

That would be some premium frozen hot chocolate (one of roomie's concoctions and that bitch is skinny).

"Yeah Mom, I know..."

You know how when you are so similar to someone you begin to dislike them, because they remind you of yourself? All the women in my family might as well be clones of one another. We don't look the same, but that is the end of the list of things that are different about us. I can't spend more than an hour with more than one of them at a time without getting a little annoyed, and I know that's all on me. I just wish i didn't have the future right in front of me and talking to me. I'm going to be exactly like my mom. I mean, I'm a little more laid back than she is, but not by much. I love my mom and my grandma and my aunt, but we have a family vacation coming up, and I don't know if I can get through it without taking up a serious drinking problem.

A scale is a scale is a scale is a scale

This whole ballooning weight thing just is not cutting it for me. I know it's mostly my fault for being lazy with the eating habits of a fattie, but I rarely get the opportunity to do anything about it. It's cold all the time in Boone, so I don't want to take my fat ass anywhere to do anything. I don't have the time to lead a healthy life style, because the one that can kill you is the easiest to accomplish. I am, however, working to actively change my slovenly ways. I need to cut sweets out completely, because that's what gets me. That and the fact that I'll do just about anything to avoid exercise.

This whole new, I need to work on myself thing has nothing to do with image. I honestly could not give a damn how big I got if it didn't affect the quality of my life, but alas it does. I know when I graduate I'll have the time and resources to actually be able to be a healthy person, but the college life just isn't conducive environment for breeding anything other than regret. So, here it goes. I'm going to do my best, and I'll let you know how it all works out.

My ink and me

When you put something on your body forever, a lot of thought and commitment come into play. I have two tattoos that represent me almost completely. I have an ivy peace sign on my ankle that reminds me that I'm a natural hippie at heart and nothing will ever really change that. I also have a shooting star on my back  because as corny as it may sound the sky is the limit. Now it is time for my friends and family. I'm going to have a lot of ink, but hey I want to be able to carry around a piece of them no matter where I go.

We have yet another snow day here in Boone, and I don't know about anyone else, but I'd rather be in class. That's a sad statement. I'm starting to worry about not receiving any credits for this semester since I haven't really learned anything. My apartment is closing in on me, and everything in every direction is white. We've accumulated more snow this year than any other in recorded history. Facebook groups have been made to complain about it. It's not a good day to be a Mountaineer.

This just in...

It's genetic. 

I used to hate materialism.

When I was a young cynic (like the rest of American youth), I hated all things materialistic. I thought capitalism was fascism and vice versa, but now I might as well be Madonna.  I love getting presents and giving them, although I like giving more because it's like a puzzle/game to me. I mention this, because today is the pinnacle of materialism. An entire day based on buying your sweetheart something pretty. I partly hated today before because I was alone and bitter, so I half-truth invented my hatred of materialism.

Now, I love Valentine's day. I don't know who St. Valentine is, as a history person you think I would lap that up, but I'm not Catholic and I have no desire to familiarize myself with Saints (New Orleans excluded).

I'm in love, because I have a pretty fantastic boyfriend, and my life is all fluffy clouds, rainbows, butterflies, and puppies. I didn't get to actually spend the day with him, because I had to drive back to school which is an hour and a half away from my home town. We're in a long-distance-ish relationship that aspect is the bulk of our issues. We had a date night like thing last night, which included eating and watching a movie with our best friends.

Friday night it began to snow in Gastonia, and I have to admit I played more in the snow there than I ever do in Boone, despite there being a whole lot more of it here. My best friend and I had a snowball fight with my brother and his best friend, and then the four of us went sledding. We won the snowball fight by the way. It might be impressive if you knew my brother and his friend are a couple years older than we are, and we still managed to peg them in the face more (which is always the measure of victory).

Now, look at how adorable me and whatshisface are:

I'm still as insecure as the teenager I was.

We talked about self-esteem today in my Social Psychology class. we took an inventory of whether or not we had high/low self-esteem. Now, I know I have low self-esteem, but it's kind of weird when you know you have low self-esteem. It's not even on the moderate line or close, which I thought it would be at least close.

Of course high and low self-esteem both have their ups and downs. For instance, people with lower self-esteem have more accurate self appraisal, and are less likely than those with higher self-esteem to overestimate their abilities. So, I guess I'm less likely to make a jackass out of myself, which can be put in the win column.

Apparently, I'm also less likely to let things go. And I don't let things go. Bad things stick with me a whole lot more than the good, but I think of it as being prepared for all scenarios.

At least I'm ready for my life to fall to shambles.

I'm a psychology minor, and I took most of my classes for said minor a couple years ago. Now, that I have a psychology class again that is not about teaching children, I'm starting to self-diagnose again. I'm almost positive that both my mother and I are bi-polar.

The snow is getting to me.

I've spent my week acting ten different kinds of crazy. I really need to go home. I've almost run out of clean clothes, and I'm sincerely homesick. The snow is getting to me. I know I picked a school nestled in the mountains, and how could I expect anything less than snow up to my knees? It reflects light and blinds me every time I dare look out the window. I'm just over this whole winter nonsense. Actually, I'm pretty much sick of school itself. I'm even graduating a semester early and it's not soon enough.

I don't do well in the cold. That's why I'm thinking Florida for grad school. Heck yeah.

I don't think you fully appreciate how crazy my dog is

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ak9goeCTqPM

I have to learn Greek now?

My life goals have altered several times over the course of life as it does for most people. Currently, I am on a fifteen year-ish plan when it comes to my future career. Odds are I'll give up the dream eventually, because lets be honest, I'm not the most driven person. Let me give you my plan:

1. Finish my undergrad degree. I have a year, a couple summer sessions, and my semester of student teaching. This is the most attainable of my goals. The one I am most focused on accomplishing.
2. Next I will teach for about five years, so I may pay down some of my school debt.
3. I will then go to get my masters in history education. I will probably achieve this at my current school, because I know it so well (we stick with what we know).  This should take me about two years, if I'm not incapable. I would love to get this done if not for an elevated pay. 
4. Teach a couple more years to pay down those debts.
5. Finally, get my Ph.D from either Greensboro or Florida. Depending on which college I choose and the degree I want to go for will dictate whether I must learn Greek or not. I'm not good with languages, so I should probably make up my mind and get to studying.
6. Then I will teach the unsuspecting college students of the world. Either about ancient Greece or Colonial Pirates (those are the two I'm considering)

These are just my professional goals. I also want to get married and have babies. Just thought you guys should know about what is pressing on my mind recently.