Good morning, America!

4 Feb

Perhaps the only thing better than waking up to Justin Timberlake clad in animal-print panties is waking up to discover that classes have been cancelled on account of horrific icings. The entire city is coated and encased in solid ice, folks. Walking to and fro’ sucks [snow] balls. The sidewalks are submerged in an inch or more of nasty slush, which is soon to be frozen completely solid. I’m not sure which I prefer; the icy slip ‘n’ slide, or seasonal scuba diving.

I was going to take advantage of my class-less day by planting myself in the IMU to get some hardcore studying done, but after struggling on foot through the 20 minute walk to get there, I arrived only to discover that the building had been closed due to “inclement weather.” F that S. I then turned around and made way toward the library, which I discovered would be closing early at 8 p.m. Again I was irritated but I did get three or four hours of shiv done.

I still need to read an entire book and write a paper on it by Monday, and I have yet to study a single syllable for my Survey of Film class. However, on the up side, last time I took a test in that class, I studied for somewhere south of 25 minutes, and somehow ended up getting an A. Sometimes winging things really pays off.

Other times, you get the clap.

Like in Kehly’s case, for example.

I was thinking about what I wanted for Christmas the other day, when I realized how much my wish list had evolved from a decade or so ago.

I was thinking about asking for a new digital camera or iPod, because my camera is starting to randomly shut off, and my iPod has long since run out of memory space. In ’96, I was probably asking for a GigaPet (which I got, by the way. It was a dalmatian that I neglected and killed on a daily basis).

I decided I wanted some new clothes, and a myriad of socks and underwear. One year, my aunt Pauline sent me clothing for Christmas and I cried. Hard.

As a child I wanted my stocking to be filled to the top with Dove milk chocolate, Reese’s candy bars, yards and yards of Bubble Tape, and Christmas colored M&Ms. This year I’m begging for canned soup, shampoo, and razor refills.

I really want a new pair of sneakers this Christmas. At the age of 10, I was asking for a Shampoodle.

My have the times changed.

WELL, I’m off to trudge through the slush and frozen matter of Iowa City.

Love always,
Rebecca.

“I can’t shit to Fifty Cent!!”

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