On Medical Conditions. . .

No, I haven't changed my mind and become a nursing major.

I'm still an English major.

Yet this is a unique merging of the two realms.

I don't know if any nurses or doctors have actually seen this, but I have, and it's terrifying enough to me.

And yes, this is sort of a grammar rant.

Alzheimer's Disease

I cannot count how many times I've heard this butchered. I know I have very little to stand on, because I butcher words all the time, but I can say that I've never said this particular word this badly. 

Y'all, it is not "All-timers" Disease.

There is not a T in "Alzheimer's".

There just isn't.

Stop putting it there.

Please.

Diabetes

Okay, I saw this on Tumblr, so there's no telling whether the poster was serious or just being funny, but "diabetes" is one word.

Just one.

It's not "die of beaties".

I realize it kind of sounds like that, but it's all together.

Lactose Intolerance

This one really takes the cake.

I'm not even really sure where that phrase comes from, but it's true.

I have seen this on Google searches.

On Facebook.

On Tumblr.

Et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.

Granted, on Tumblr they all flipped out, but still.

People, this particular disorder where your body does not properly manufacture lactase and milk makes you gassy and nauseous is not "lack toast and tolerant".

I kid you not.

A "lack toast and tolerant" disorder means that you lack charred bread slices and are a very understanding person and for some reason you are not happy about this state of affairs.

But yeah.

This has been a PSA.

Walking in a Winterless Wonderland

And a fall-less wonderland, as well.

For those of you who live in South Carolina, Georgia, Florida, and the like, you understand what I'm saying.

For those of you who live in other parts of America or the world, let me explain.

We have very odd weather here.

It starts warming up in February.

No lie. 

It starts cooling off in October or November.

We basically have no winter.

I'm 21, and I've seen snow once in my life.

It was around Valentine's Day, and I was babysitting about 20-30 minutes away from my house. The kids' grandmother called and asked if we'd noticed the snow.

I got insanely excited -- 17 years old and it was snowing! Woo hoo!

I was really nervous about driving back into town, because I'd never seen snow, and now I had to drive in it? 

The kids' grandfather followed me into town, which was really nice, but then after running around in the snow like a three year old (which my dad described as "typical college kid behavior"), he wanted me to drive around with him.

I was really afraid of just going 'round town for fun, but it actually wasn't that bad, because no one else here knows how to drive in snow, so no one else was about.

Also, in my biology book, the author mentioned a compound - I think some sort of salty stuff - and called it a "deicer". Well, in my limited knowledge of ice and snow, I first assumed it was a fancy French word for something and pronounced "deh-eye-see-yer".

Um, no, it's "de-icer". A thing that melts ice.

Oh.

Well.

Okay.
This also explains why - when test driving a car - I looked in the dash thing-y (the word escapes me at the moment) and saw this really weird looking object.
It looked like a toothless comb.
I showed it to my dad like "What is this thing??"
He laughed and told me to guess.
Apparently it was an ice scraper.
Oh.

Creatures of Habit

Long story short:

my place of work has a mailbox right next to the mailbox for the dentist's office next door.

I walk into work this morning and end up stopping to stare at where the mailboxes used to be.

Key word USED.

Past tense.

Somebody moved them.

Normally that wouldn't be such a big deal. 

Except for one little detail that I'm not sure was missed or deliberately ignored.

They switched the mailboxes around.

Let that sink in for a moment.

. . . sigh. . .

We're all in for some confusing mail calls. . .

Disney's Old School Sass

Can we just have a moment to talk about how sassy some of the classic Disney movies are?

I mean, look at just Sleeping Beauty.

Those fairies got some SNARK!

Although I do find it hilarious that Merryweather doesn't realize it's pink till Flora throws the whole roll over her.

And Merryweather minces no words.

I. Love. That.

And if you don't like Merryweather, we can't be friends.

Sorry not sorry.

"You can't sew! And she's never cooked!!"

And yet she never really comes off as rude, or disrespectful, just . . . young.

They can't really do movies like that anymore.

-sigh-

Still one of my favorite Disney movies ever.

I think this calls for a Disney Princess marathon.

Who's in?

Senioritis

This is a Public Service Announcement.

Many college students suffer from senioritis.

This debilitating illness has many symptoms, but the most common are fidgeting in class, daydreaming while having purposed to finish homework, boredom, and itchy, watery eyes that mimic the symptoms of spring fever. 

Senioritis doesn't only affect those in their fourth year of college: it can affect those as fresh and new as those in their first year.

But this doesn't have to be your reality.

To counteract the symptoms, pop in a classic Disney movie. 

Take them bowling.

Feed them.

Offer any and all distractions.

They'll know instinctively when it is time to return to the grind.

Senioritis is real.

Don't let it be you. 

Confessions: I Could Have Been a Math Major

DISCLAIMER:

This is not a dig at people who enjoy math, who have degrees in math, or jobs related to math.

It's just me being snarky and slightly honest.

Sometimes people ask me why I'm an English major.

They're like "Oh, do you want to teach?"

I don't really, and I can't help but think that if I wanted to teach, I'd be an education major.

But English is just something I enjoy and that I'm good at, and I thought reading books and writing essays for four years would be alright.

Yep.

But I'm also good at math -- or at least I was about five years ago. 

Haven't taken it since then.

I'm taking it now.

And I love it.

But the thing is, I just couldn't do math for four years.

Well, maybe I could have, but I don't think I'd have liked it.

Mostly because of Geometry.

Just not my thing.

In high school, my math teacher begged me to be an engineer, but I hate Geometry, so that wasn't really something I wanted to do.

I finally got him to stop telling me that by saying that if I did become an engineer, all I'd make is roller coasters and he'd have to test ride all of them.

That worked.

But I used to be really good at it.

I could solve small-ish matrices in my head, I still can foil quite a bit mentally, and stuff like that.

I'm surprised my professor hasn't gotten on me yet for not showing a lot of my work.

I might take more math next year, just to fill up empty space in my schedule, but next year is pretty much anything I want to do, so maybe I'll take some math. . .

Maybe I won't.

Heck, maybe they'll offer an equestrian class.

That'd be fun.

But don't think I don't like math much because it's hard.

No, that's part of why I like math: you have to figure it out; it's not just memorization.

I mean, English is hard too.

You try remembering what the Great Vowel Shift was, or how Proto-Indo-European converts Greek and Latin to English and stuff.

I like a good challenge.

But I have to admit that math has a one-upper on English as far as I'm concerned.

In English, you can read things pretty much however you want, but in math, 2+2 always equals 4.

I like that.

Consistency and concreteness is cool.

(And that's ^ alliteration.)

There's just one thing I don't really understand about math.

I mean, English majors learn how to think critically, and that's a skill you can use anywhere.

Math majors learn how to think analytically, and that's a skill you can use anywhere.

But I just don't understand why we learn some of the stuff we do in math.

Isn't a lot of that more theoretical than applicational?

Theoretical's totally fine, really, but . . . isn't applicational more useful?

I mean, under what circumstances would somebody need to know this?

I'm not being snarky here, I swear.

This is an honest to God question.

Is this like a real thing?

I've got the concept down fine, I'm just curious.

Other than teaching my kids someday.

If I even remember it that long.

Confessions: I've Actually Never Had Coffee.

I'm starting a new series, Confessions.

I figured I might as well start with the most shocking.

So yeah, I've never actually had coffee before.

And these are some of the looks I get when I say that:

Actually, that's probably all the reactions I've gotten.

Yeah. . .

I just . . . never really wanted to have coffee.

I love the smell of coffee beans, but not when it's actually brewed.

And I don't need it in the mornings, because once I'm up, I'm up.

So you wake me up at 3 AM and you had better have something really cool for me to do or I will hate intensely dislike you for a very long time, probably proportional to how many hours of sleep you robbed me of.

Anyhoo, yeah, I've never had coffee.

And I don't plan to, either.

And the reason why is because when I was a kid, I had to read this book, Across Five Aprils. 

It's about the Civil War, but there's only one part I really remember: the kid's mom loved coffee, but for one reason or another, they couldn't buy it, and she went through this awful withdraw and could not function, and I remember thinking I never wanted to be that dependent on something that I wouldn't be able to function if I couldn't have it.

Which rules out a lot of things for me.

Oh well.

And I remember a lot of my friends saying they never drank coffee till they got to college, but I'm almost a senior, and I still haven't had a drop.

I mean, I suppose it's kind of like tea: I just haven't found a flavor I might like.

Whatevs.

What coffee confessions do you have?

It is Friday!

So, I wanted to write a snarky, witty post about it being Friday, but I've come up with nothing. 

I also wanted to write a beautiful, moving post about it being Good Friday, but I've got nothing there, too.

I guess the best way to tell it would just to tell it as it is.

God created Man knowing full well we'd fall and spit in His face.

Yet He still loved us.

He spent millenia pointing forwards to One who would offer to free us from death and love us as no one else could.

And we didn't listen.

Yet He still loved us.

He sent His Son, who willingly lived on earth with few of our comforts.

We didn't accept Him.

Yet He still loved us.

We stripped Him naked, nailed Him to a cross, and caused His heart to break.

(It really did burst.)

We had no compassion for the Man who spoke of love, who fed the hungry, who healed the sick.

We laughed at Him and mocked Him and cursed Him.

Yet He still loved us.

Yet He asked that His Father would forgive us.

He died for us.

But that really does us no good if death can defeat Him.

But it didn't. 

He rose from the dead on the third day, defeating death for everyone.

And He loves you.

Some people say they're not worthy of His love.

No, you're not.

But His love is no credit to you; it's a testimony to Him.

Others think they don't need His love and grace.

You do.

It doesn't matter who you are, where you've come from, what you've done.

Even if the worst thing you've ever done is tell a little white lie, you still need His forgiveness.

If you're a murderer, you still need His forgiveness.

And this week there's been all the discussion about homosexuality.

Yes, it's wrong.

God calls it an abomination because it twists and distorts the physical love he created for a man and his wife - a picture of His love and sacrifice and relationship with the church.

But God doesn't hate you.

He doesn't at all.

He loves you.

He wants you to know Him.

He wants to forgive you.

He wants to love you.

Let Him.

I Made a Thing / Mondays

So yesterday, I made a thing:

. . . I have no idea what led to that.

EDIT: Now I do.

My laptop left-click button is broken, so I had to use my mouse, but I had taken the USB receiver out the day before because I needed both USB ports for something and I had to go get it but I kept forgetting what I was looking for and came back with other things that needed to be done until I remembered I couldn't do much of it without the mouse and I just wanted to be able to open up a wormhole to my dresser and have it  ploop right into my hand. 

Think Portal. 

Also, it is Monday.

A friend of mine posts this every Monday on Facebook, and if she doesn't, another friend reminds her to. So now I'm posting it in case she forgets.

Our response to this Monday?

Ramblings of a Fangirl: Dumb People in Comics

Y'know, you've just gotta have a certain respect for people in comic books.

No, no, no, I don't mean the main characters; the heroes.

No, I mean the citizens. 

Yeah, them.

The people that can't distinguish between Clark Kent and Superman because of a pair of glasses.

. . . Really, people?

They're the same size.

Have the same hairstyle.

Seem to be nearby a whole lot.

And are never seen in the same room. . .

Granted, not everyone knows Clark that well.

But what about Lois???

She's Clark's reporter buddy and has only been rescued by Superman Lord knows how many times.

You'd think she - the brilliant Daily Planet reporter - would have pieced two and two together.

(On that note, why do we put two and two together? Why not one and one? Anyhoo. . .)

And then there's the people of Gotham.

They have a bit more of an excuse for not recognizing Bruce Wayne as Batman, especially in The Dark Knight, because Bruce you can easily understand. Batman just sounds like, "WGGG RRRR AYYYY?!"

Not exactly conducive to a  fruitful interrogation.

However!

Bruce randomly gets beat up - badly - the same night Batman disappears . . . 

And nobody makes that connection.

And he's a hermit for eight years. Batman is also MIA for eight years.

And nobody makes the connection.

Then Bruce comes out of hiding. Batman also comes out of hiding.

And nobody makes the connection.

. . .

The citizens of Metropolis have zero excuses, but the people of Gotham just might have one. . .

Just how much fear gas did Scarecrow pump into that city sewer?

Technology Woes and Whoas

I've had my Blackberry for Lord only knows how long.

I had a flip phone before that, and I really wanted a full keyboard for texting, since I don't really talk much on it.

When our contracts ran up, my dad upgraded me to a Blackberry.

He'd had one of the old-school ones, with the wheel on the side and all. Very hard to play BrickBreaker with. (The newer ones are better for that in case you're wondering.)

It's not a touchscreen, but I didn't want one. Still kind of don't.

But I was afraid I'd have to get a new phone because mine started glitching and freezing and generally acting buggy and such.

A few days ago, I decided to change my alarm tone to the Ghostbusters Theme.

. . . Don't ask. ANYTHING is better than preloaded stuff. You know that.

I plugged it into my laptop, but it wasn't even showing on the hardware. It was charging, and that was it.

I figured it couldn't hurt to try downloading the Blackberry Manager, since it was kinda, y'know, made for that.

Well.

Well.

Well.

Well.

Turns out there was an update for the OS.

Like, a big time update.

Like, 5.0.3 to 6.0.7 or something.

Yeah.

Oh. My. Gosh.

It's like having a new phone, I swear.

Burnt Hair: It's Actually Funnier than It Looks

So, if you've seen this, you know what I'm talking about.

If you haven't, enjoy:

Now, this is the part where I say something snarky about this, but I'm actually not going to.

I will say that having a heated tool in your hair for ten seconds is a rather long time and it's not a good idea, but that's about it.

But I've actually been in her boat before.

A friend - who shall remain nameless for the sweet sake of dignity - was drying my hair once with a  hair dryer and a round brush.

She was doing everything right as far as I can tell.

Suddenly, there was this AWFUL stench, and my first thought was "Oh no, my hair's broken her hair dryer".

Nope.

She pulled the brush away, and a chunk of hair came with it.

Omigosh it STANK.

She was horrified.

Now, I've gotta say that it was from one of the bottom layers in the back.

I mean, it was really no big deal.

I think she was expecting this:

She got this:

I thought it was hysterical.

Seriously, it was so funny.

I kept telling her it was fine and that no one would be able to tell, but I couldn't get over the fact it had happened. 

I mean, that's the stuff of movies, right?

It couldn't possibly happen in real life, right?

See video above.

Though, I do have to admit . . . that's the second time a round brush has had a part in destroying my hair. . .