Blog Year in Review
Take the first sentence (or 2 or 3) from the first post of each month of 2008. That's your year in review. Meow meow meow.
January: have to go to school tomorrow. It's 12:35, the night before, and it still hasn't quite set in. I took some advil pm to ensure I'll sleep at a normal time. If I only hadn't sold Foucault, I could fall asleep in no time.
February: I went to the authentic happiness site posted by Laura and took a few tests. I only got a 2.46 on the authentic happiness inventory, but honestly, I'm not sure how much I trust any 24-question evaluation of my happiness. Apparently my top strength is forgiveness and mercy.
March: I read CNN every morning. It wakes me up to see who we've bombed, who's named their babies, and how to make a thinner, sexier you!
April: There is a mousey in the basement. I am more afraid of him than he is of me. I shall give him a name so that in familiarizing myself with mousey, I may also distance myself. Mousey, thou shalt be known as Bizarro Stormy, henceforth and forevermore
May: I just stumbled across this strange article from 1998 about "pogo stick days" on Wall Street. There's this very random-seeming part where my old Russian teacher, feet up on a chair in my old favorite coffee shop in Iowa (Muddy Waters. They made the best BLC&T sandwiches), is used as an example of those who are "bit blasé about the market's gyrations."
June: I have a paper due Monday. I have had three weeks to write it. I'm starting now. Perhaps I type too fast. I keep getting ahead of myself in typing. "May contain" becomes "main." "Grow out" becomes "grout."
July: My friend Ron not Ronald recently graduated and left us all alone at the WC. My boss noted today that I stopped attending meetings after Ron left. Since I never ate the cookies anyway, there was no reason to attend without Ron not Ronald (Yeah, I know, I'm mean).
August: Spent yesterday with HIV, Cancer, and Batman. School, school, not school. There are reasons to hate summer. I made cookies. Chocolate chips combat catastrophe.
September: David Foster Wallace is dead. So sad.
October: I used to have this book about Dietrich Bonhoeffer. I was in 7th grade. It was one of those ones you get at a library book sale. Old with a lot of pictures telling his story. It had a crispy static-loving dust jacket.
November: I'm addicted to the Wire. I don't want another week to end or start. I want an eternal comma. There's a book I want to read. It is time warpy and features lizards and possibly koala attactivity the likes of which this world has never seen before.
December: I'm putting things off again. Yesterday, I responded to a story, did 3 OWLs, but I didn't accomplish much else. I awoke yesterday to a jolly email telling me the bookstore wanted to buy back the HIV/AIDS & STIs book I've been wanting to sell back since summer.
January: have to go to school tomorrow. It's 12:35, the night before, and it still hasn't quite set in. I took some advil pm to ensure I'll sleep at a normal time. If I only hadn't sold Foucault, I could fall asleep in no time.
February: I went to the authentic happiness site posted by Laura and took a few tests. I only got a 2.46 on the authentic happiness inventory, but honestly, I'm not sure how much I trust any 24-question evaluation of my happiness. Apparently my top strength is forgiveness and mercy.
March: I read CNN every morning. It wakes me up to see who we've bombed, who's named their babies, and how to make a thinner, sexier you!
April: There is a mousey in the basement. I am more afraid of him than he is of me. I shall give him a name so that in familiarizing myself with mousey, I may also distance myself. Mousey, thou shalt be known as Bizarro Stormy, henceforth and forevermore
May: I just stumbled across this strange article from 1998 about "pogo stick days" on Wall Street. There's this very random-seeming part where my old Russian teacher, feet up on a chair in my old favorite coffee shop in Iowa (Muddy Waters. They made the best BLC&T sandwiches), is used as an example of those who are "bit blasé about the market's gyrations."
June: I have a paper due Monday. I have had three weeks to write it. I'm starting now. Perhaps I type too fast. I keep getting ahead of myself in typing. "May contain" becomes "main." "Grow out" becomes "grout."
July: My friend Ron not Ronald recently graduated and left us all alone at the WC. My boss noted today that I stopped attending meetings after Ron left. Since I never ate the cookies anyway, there was no reason to attend without Ron not Ronald (Yeah, I know, I'm mean).
August: Spent yesterday with HIV, Cancer, and Batman. School, school, not school. There are reasons to hate summer. I made cookies. Chocolate chips combat catastrophe.
September: David Foster Wallace is dead. So sad.
October: I used to have this book about Dietrich Bonhoeffer. I was in 7th grade. It was one of those ones you get at a library book sale. Old with a lot of pictures telling his story. It had a crispy static-loving dust jacket.
November: I'm addicted to the Wire. I don't want another week to end or start. I want an eternal comma. There's a book I want to read. It is time warpy and features lizards and possibly koala attactivity the likes of which this world has never seen before.
December: I'm putting things off again. Yesterday, I responded to a story, did 3 OWLs, but I didn't accomplish much else. I awoke yesterday to a jolly email telling me the bookstore wanted to buy back the HIV/AIDS & STIs book I've been wanting to sell back since summer.
posted by Miss Marjie at 5:17 PM
0 comments
What? Cause I been in the lab with a pen and a pad tryna get this damn label off? ;) 
