Social Experimentation.

Tonight I am going to do a little social experiment.  You see, tonight is my Dad's law firm's party at our house.  My Dad is kind of like the boss man around there.  When all the young lawyers come to our house, they look like scared little fawns... until they meet my Mom and me.  They are in shock and awe.  They are SO scared of my Dad but are confused when Mom and I are so fun and well, for lack of a better word, nice.

So I'm going to do a little experiment mu ha ha ha ha ha! (That would be my evil scientist laugh)  I'm going to note (in my brain) how the youngsters act when they talk to Dad then how their attitudes change once they speak to Mom, and then to me.  When they talk to me they feel like they're in college again, which is funny.  These are a pretty tight-assed group of people and when they let loose, it's hilarious.  Especially when the young newbies get drunk and fall on the couch.  That happened once.

I asked Dad why they are so scared of him.  His answer?  "I don't have a clue."  Hm.  So I asked another.  "What do you say on their first day that nearly makes them tinkle themselves?"
"I just tell them I expect them to work."

Not at all what I expected.  So I have formed a theory.  I think there might be some urban legends floating around about Dad.  Like, that he once killed a guy using only a napkin.  Or that he cut a guy's legs off using a letter opener.  Or maybe, that he once looked at a guy wrong and his skin melted off his face.

For clarification: my Dad is a big ole softy.  He is my cuddly (even though he is skin & bones) friend.  He is silly and funny and a GREAT Dad.  But I wouldn't want to work for him.  I like to keep things casual when it comes to Dad.  Because he can be scary when he wants to be.  But then again, so can Mom, and I can too.

After I make thousands of mental notes, I will come back to each of you with the results.

Holiday Hookah... and Angels.

You know what I love?  CHRISTMAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  You know what I love more than Christmas?  Christmas movies.  My top Christmas movies:
The Grinch: "You're the, the, the-" "The, the, the... THE GRINCH."
The Christmas Story: 3 words: the Leg Lamp.
The Holiday
The Muppets Christmas Carol (Yes.)
The Santa Clause
Every single clay movie that is shown on ABC Family

Isn't the atmosphere what we all love about the holidays?  The smell of Christmas, the warm fuzzy (cliche, I know) feelings we get, the incessant need to cuddle, being with your family (most of the time), the religious mixed with the fantastical... It's like taking a big puff from a holiday hookah.  You get high from those feelings.  Oh wait, is that just me?

Reason #2 Christmas is awesome.  Let's take a walk down Christmas Drive.  Follow Saint Nicholas Day Lane to Christmas Eve Street, then off to Christmas Cove... Keep going.  What's that you see?  Anna's Birthday Celebration Gated Community?!!?!?!?  That's right.

Jesus blessed me with the best birthday ever.  His own.  But I wasn't born that day.  I wasn't ready.  So I waited two days; but my Dad was out of town.  So I came the next day with a vengeance.  December 28th is the day that will one day become a National Holiday.  Here's the bad news.  I'm going to be a senior citizen, aka 22 years old.  Oye vey!  Where has the time gone?  Guess I need to live it up these last 12 days (but who's counting) of freedom.

Reason #3 Christmas is awesome.  Christmas cookies.  I made some the other day for a few friends.  I showed the pictures to Dad.  The conversation that follows is an interpretation of actual events:
Dad: Those look great, Anna B!  You should make some for the folks at my office.
Anna: How much are you going to pay me?
Dad: How much?!  What do you mean how much?!
Anna: How much for the cookies?
Dad: I'm not going to pay you!
Anna: I need to make some money if I'm going to invest that kind of time.
Dad: Well, how much would you charge?
Anna: $50 for 4  dozen cookies.
Dad: Ok, sounds good.

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  Business is booming.  You think my Christmas cookies aren't work 50 big babies?  Check this out:

Good stuff, right?

Reason #4 Christmas rules.  FINALS ARE OVER.  Grades are in.  And guess who won the Medieval battle.  Yours truly.  After fearing for a C in an English class, or worse a D (gasp!) I was elated when I received a B.  An A would have been perfection but sometimes you gotta take what you can get.  

Now on to the sadness.  I'm depressed that I won't get to spend the holidays with the boyfriend this year. Last year was so magical, but this year is reality.  Magical > reality.  Boyfriend will be in Mississippi selling fireworks... but good news- he has been promoted!  I'm happy for him, but I am selfish and want to be with him during this special time.  Holidays we won't spend together this season: Christmas Eve, Christmas, my birthday, New Year's Eve, his birthday- wah wah wahhhhhhhhh.  Somehow, I think I'll get over it.  I might need a few hershey kisses though...

This is the REALLY sad part.  My roommate has a sister, her sister has a friend, this friend has twin babies.  One of them died.  The details aren't important, it isn't my story to tell.  I don't even know this family, for goodness sake.  What does matter, though, is that this sweet little girl has been taken away from her Mama, Daddy, and sister.  It just isn't right.  Every time something like this happens, I just look up to the sky and ask, "Why?!!!"  It has not and will not ever make sense to me.  As my mom says, "God wanted them."  That answer doesn't fulfill me though.  I have come up with my own theory.

These blessed people, that are always wonderful, that are taken from us weren't ever really human to start with.  My theory is that these people were really angels, not people.  God only gave them to us for only a short while so we could get a taste of what angels are like.  God knows that they are only going to be here for a little while, so He tries to get them to touch as many lives as possible while they are here on Earth.  Isn't it the strangest thing... their stories always travel throughout the country and the globe.  

I developed this theory after Susan died and I had nothing else to hang on to.  I think Susan was an angel who was given directions by God before she was born.  Unfortunately, she didn't remember this.  She didn't know she was an angel until she was gone.  She couldn't remember, or else she would blow the cover.  The thing about angels, is that they have to get a lot done in a very short period of time.  They have to do a lot of really great things, really fast.  They have to scratch off the things on their to-do list before they go, or else.  Think about someone you have lost that you thought was robbed of a full life... Was she an angel; was he?  I think I'm right.

The moral of my theory is to pray for people, even if you don't know them.  Your prayers might just be what they need.  It might help them get out of bed tomorrow or smile a bit tonight.  I ask that you pray for this family, who could need prayers more than a mother who just lost her 20 month old baby?  No one.  

I'm one of the lucky ones because I have so many angels by this point in my life.  They let me know when they're around, too.  It's funny; just look around and you'll see them.  You might even see their faces.  Sometimes, if you just close your eyes and breathe in, you can feel them right next to you.  That's what they want, because they're angels.  So let them love you, and let them take care of you.

Cracked.

Ever since I was a little girl, I have always been very sensitive.  If you do something mean to me, chances are I'll cry about it.  This is hard for me to admit because I like to pretend like I'm a big ole hard-ass (some of the time), but I'm just not.

When I was in the fourth grade, I met with one of my teachers for a conference and she told me I was too sensitive; that she could never give me constructive criticism about my work without tears welling up in my eyes.  That would be because I like to be the best at everything, especially academics.  If I don't do well on a test or paper in my eyes, I cry... which has happened several times this semester.  Clearly, finals week isn't my favorite time of the year.  I am like a baby in that if I am very tired, sleepy, or hungry, I am much more likely to cry.

Welcome to finals week.

Although I've only had one final (wait! don't let that fool you!) on Monday alone, I had 40 books to read, a 25 poem poetry file to do, and a research paper.  I had my final yesterday (I only had ONE hour of sleep and made a B, NOT okay), and today I had to turn in my 10-15 page paper.  Oye vey.  I haven't gotten more than 3 hours of sleep a night since last Friday.  I have taken a few naps here and there, but it just ain't the same (I know this is grammatically incorrect, but it is geographically correct, suckas).  I've gotta tell ya, this week has been very difficult for me to complete, but now I'm done!!! But I cried... a lot.  When I am under supreme amounts of stress, I'm much more susceptible to emotional trauma, and guess what?  It came.

So much has been going on in my life lately.  I am practically making myself sick about where I will be next year and what I will be doing.  Graduate school is my numero uno choice, but I don't find out about that until APRIL.  I haven't gotten to see my boyfriend much, and won't see him until January because of his work schedule.  Ugh.  Which means I won't get to see him for Christmas, my birthday, New Year's Eve, OR his birthday... joy to the world.  This has been my most difficult semester, academically, to note since I've been in college.  You know those classes that you spend most of your time on and only spend a few hours a few on the other ones?  I've been taking only those classes this semester.  I don't like making Bs and I have been.  I don't like Bs because they aren't As.

I digress.

Here's the situation: I am a sensitive lady.  I don't like to be made fun of;  IT ISN'T FUNNY.  So what happened this week?  You guessed it!  Made fun of.  I generally have a complete and utter emotional breakdown about once a year, sometimes once a semester.  Guess what happened yesterday?  BREAK.DOWN.

Sometimes all it takes is one little tap to send you over the edge.  But this wasn't a tap, it was a shove, except they didn't know it, they thought it was funny.  It is my understand that many objects of the male species find certain things funny that us females just don't.  Examples: the word "bitch," jokes involving sex or the sexual organs, physical violence, alcohol-induced stupidity, cheating, lying, cursing... you get the point.  I didn't grow up around boys, except for my Dad, and he's a deviation from the species, he's my Dad.  I grew up with my Mom and Dad, no one else in the house, generally.  They never told me I was ugly or fat or unintelligent or a loser.  Because they are great parents, and even greater friends.  Even after being in high school I guess I'm still not used to it.  In my mind, everyone loves me until proven otherwise.


Okay, I get it.  You've made your point.  You don't like me.  I'm sorry that you and your posse don't like me.  I really am.  I wish they did like me.  I've tried everything to be sweet, nice, friendly, and enjoyable to all.  I have tried to do everything nice (above and beyond that, even) that I can think of and apparently it didn't work.  But, like the Rolling Stones said, "You can't always get what you want..."

So, there you have it.  They cracked me.  I'm not superwoman, just a regular gal with tear ducts like everyone else.  Here's the good news.  I've become MUCH more aware of my actions and the things I say and do to others.  I never want to make anyone feel the way I have felt the past two days.  I guess all I can do is pray that they realize the hurt they have caused and learn not to do it again, to someone else.

Don't forget to love.

Insanity.

Even though I SHOULD be doing my mass amounts of homework, get ready for it...
40 book cards on, ta da! 40 books... of which I have only done 11.  Okay, that isn't exactly true.  This morning I had only done 11.  Now I'm up to 20.  Halfway done!
A 25 poem poetry file (poems that I have to relate to 25 books)... none done.
A medieval drama paper which has caused me more emotional trauma than middle school.  HOWEVER, I got a horrible horrible grade that actually made me cry (I'm so obsessive about my grades right now. Hello?! Grad school!)  BUT, I got my SECOND draft (meaning I wrote an entire paper on the same subject TWICE... 8 pages twice = 16 pages) of my paper back and I made a B!!!!!!!!! I have never been happy about a B on a paper in my life.  In fact, I'm usually pissed about a B; but in this miserable class, a B is heaven on a bed of whipped cream.  I have only written 8 pages out of 10-15.

Now that my pity party is over, I will give you the REAL information.  Yesterday I downloaded (and payed for) THE MOST AWESOME WORD PROCESSOR EVER.  Really.  I'm being serious.  It's so fancy, it was made just for writers.  Do you love it?!  I do.  There are all these different templates for different types of writing.  For example, there is one template for fiction, inside that template are more templates of which to choose from: novel, novel (with parts), and short story.  Are you dying?!!  Inside the template is another surprise!  You can organize your settings, characters, chapters, and scenes.  It's so awesome!!!!!!!!  It's called Scrivener.  You should buy it, especially if you are a writer.  Here is a pic.

Now I'm going to suckle down the rest of my 5 hour energy and read... some more.  Oy vey.

OH WAIT.  I forgot.

I got an email from the University of Arkansas that I got generally accepted into the Graduate School!  Which isn't really that big of a deal, but it's one step closer to being accepted to the MFA program.  Please keep saying prayers that my writing will shine in the eyes of the person who determines whether or not I am accepted.  My anxiety level is at an all time high.