sell your dope

This is all things considered, from NPR news, I'm Rachel Sherman. I get oddly comforted by music that has no correlation to my life whatsoever. This may explain my newly adopted choice to listen to too much afroman for my own good. Although i'm not black, don't smoke very much weed, or deal it for that matter, i still like to know that if i can't find a job because my skin ain't white, i can always sell my dope, and everything will turn out relatively well. Today is valentine's day, a celebration made for happy people to bask in their love, and the unhappy to drink away their emotions hoping that they may hit that point where vodka meets the time-space continum and skip this holiday altogether. I'd say that this discovery could mean one small step for mankind, one giant leap for alcoholics. I've been feeling super domestic lately, and that combined with the big v-day has left me very few options. So far my best one yet is turning into a leather-wearing alcoholic single mother who heats up microwaveable meals for my children while i watch re-runs of Threes Company on my crappy television. And they say you need direction for a happy life. Yesterday i got into a pretty heated conversation about the nature of list-making. I can spot a list-maker from a mile away. It has something to do with their smell, or maybe my sonar radar, but either way, i know that i'm not one of them. This impedement has caused some unnecessary conflict in my life, mostly because i forget to do everything that i should. But lists do nothing but remind me of everything my lazy ass has yet to accomplish. It's not the most satisfying of feelings. Anyways, i think i'm sensing a change of heart coming on, and so i figured i might as well hop on the bandwagon. 1) homeworkkkk? this includes reminding myself that i neither understand, nor give a shit about astronomy, but should probably look up some information before my midterm. i do feel better about being so g-d awful at it though by reminding myself that at least i'm not an astronomer, studying things that don't matter and will never fully understand until the armageddon comes and i have to drill into a comet with bruce willis and ben affleck. also some history writing, some slavery studying, some spanish reading, and some serious coffee drinking 2) thank becca for her valentine. although i hate the holiday, i would love the sentiment if i were a part of the previous group of people 3) set up study sessions with that semi-iffy guy in my discussion section 4) pee 4.5) wash hands 5) find short shorts for a potentially awkward party tonight 6) rent space jam 7) buy excessive amounts of alcohol, get pregnant and watch more Threes Company I think that was thorough enough for my first attempt at listing. Support for Rachels Ramblming comes form our listeners and Hostess cupcakes, eat your bodyweight. Thanks for listening!

we're not in kansas anymore

I may be lost now that i've been here enough to know where i am. My bed feels too comfortable, my clothes too worn in, my thoughts too premeditated. I've established a routine that i already need to break, and considering the last time i went to the gym was during 'nam, i really don't think i have to upper arm strenth to break it. It's kind of like high school again, with less bells telling me where to go and when. I wish i scheduled my classes earlier in the morning so i could sleep through some of them, instead of sleeping whilst i'm in them. The chairs there don't really welcome a quality hour and a half nap. Maybe i need to wander more, but the moment i begin to wander my wandering mind comes right back into the frigid -4 degree reality. So because physical wandering proved too arctic and difficult, i tried some mental wandering, which was easy since i can't really find myself right now. Somehow i ended up cyberly wandering and accidentally stumbling upon an application for a custodial job at the League (i'm not quite sure how i got there or who exactly filled out the form. i may have been sedated at the time, but now soberly i still kind of hope i get it. i'd be oh-so katie holmes in Mad Money, jamming out to my walkman that i have yet to aquire and pushing carts around). The worst part is that i expect my friends here to help find me, because that seems like a fairly friendly thing to do, but i guess i'm not giving them much to work with. Even back at home too many people told me i'm to distant, although i seem so close, to be readable at all. I just wish i could be written down by someone somewhere so that i could glance at this intangible book every once in a while, you know, just for reference sake. I can't stop making The Wizard of Oz connections in my head, but i should let it be known i hate small dogs, my group does not consist of any particularly furry, metalic or straw characters, and i would look ridiculous in a plaid-blue dress. Dorthy really got lucky with that one yellow road, i mean, there were a limited amount of wrong turns she could take. But she did have her downfalls every once in a while (mostly i'm refering to her minor opium addiction. i can't really blame the girl, everybody loves poppies). I should show up to one of those infamous little-people conventions (sorry if i offended any rouge migit out there reading my rambling. i don't know the proper PC terminology. i'd never fit in) i've always heard of, hoping maybe they can tell me exactly which color of brick road to follow. Why the fuck is everyone around me normal sized? They're useless.