My last post was . . . what, beginning of last month? My apologies, readers. I've been trying to be a better student. That is, I've been trying to stop procrastinating on my work as much. Which means, more time with my nose in uninteresting, required books and writing papers, and less time doing the things I actually enjoy, like sleeping, and working on my book, and writing to all of you lovely people. However, seeing as how I am on Thanksgiving break and I am putting off all scholarly responsibilities until tomorrow, I thought I should probably check in with you all to let you know that school has not completely sauteed my brain, and I am still a (semi) functional human being.
So, what is new with me? I have officially changed my major from Studio Art to English Writing. I know, you're probably thinking "Gee, Maximum Sunshine, why didn't you just do that in the first place instead of changing majors twice?!" To answer that question that you didn't really ask, let me explain my journey. In short, I wanted to be an art teacher, author on the side. Then, I realized: Max, you do not have the patience to teach anyone anything. Period. So, I thought, fine, I'll just be an artist, author on the side! And then, I realized: I don't want to be an artist. That whole living like a hermit in some crappy studio apartment, surviving on Ramen and macaroni, and constantly inhaling paint and/or other artist-y fumes held absolutely no appeal to me whatsoever. (Keep in mind, the above statement was a bit of a stereotype, but a lot of artists do start out that way). On the other hand, living secluded in some crappy studio apartment, surviving on Ramen and macaroni, and constantly inhaling the musty smell of old books and paper sounds like Heaven on earth to me. Art is more of a hobby for me, a way to just kinda play around. Writing? It's what I've wanted to do my whole life. Except for the few years (when I was six) where I wanted to be a veterinarian, but that is beside the point.
So, why did it take me until my Sophomore year of college to decide to major in my dream field? (In my defense, some people take until their senior year to decide what they want to do, so I'd say I'm in a pretty good spot). For one, college is about making your own life choices. You're supposed to experience new things. Changing my major a couple of times just made it that much more clear what I should be doing: writing. It's what I love, and it's who I am. And, as my adviser in the art department told me, I am an excellent bulls**tter. I'm not sure if that was meant to be a compliment, but I took it as one. In writing, if you can bulls**t, that's a good thing. Just as long as it's intelligent BS, and not just a bunch of poppycock.
Next year, (as in Fall 2014) I'll be getting an apartment with three of my friends off-campus. I'm excited, but at the same time, nervous. Why? Money, my dear Watson! Sorry. I'm writing a paper on Sherlock Holmes for my Topics in Lit. class; it's rubbing off on me. Anyway, I'm worried about not being able to pull my weight when it comes to rent, utilities, and other that other good stuff included in living off-campus. I only have a summer job, and I'm not sure if I could handle a job during the school year, along with trying to juggle beginning and finishing my new major in time to graduate in 2016, like I originally hoped. Without a job in the picture, I can finish the new major in time, but it'll still be a pretty hectic schedule.
So, you see my dilemma. But, I'm trying not to stress about it. Especially right before finals week. There's enough stress around campus near the end of the semester to fry the brains of eighteen elephants, thirteen hippos, nine giraffes, and a Norwegian Ridge-back (Harry Potter reference, anyone?) If you hadn't noticed, finals week has already begun to take its toll, and it hasn't even started yet. For crying out loud, I'm talking about the frying of animal brains. I'm so ready for a month-long break for Christmas. . .
Other than that, nothing really all that stimulating has happened to me since I last posted. Although, I'm back on Pinterest, pouring over rings, decorations, flowers, dresses . . . basically just all things wedding-related. The other night, my roommate and I were watching Four Weddings. That is what initially got the metaphorical ball rolling for my matrimony-infused Pinteresting. It doesn't help that Tanner keeps teasing me (only lightly) that he knows exactly when he's going to propose to me. We have the wedding planned for June, 2016, after I graduate. So, you see why I am so eager to get done with school by then. I don't really want to put our wedding off another year, especially since Fall 2017, we plan on moving to a bigger town, so Tanner can get his architectural degree at another school. But anyway . . . yeah. My mind is running on wedding things. I technically only have during the summertime to plan and prepare, since I can't do it during the school year very easily. Two summers. That's all I have left to plan and prepare. -cue goosepimples-
All right, I have to crash. My schedule for tomorrow is filled with collegiate activities. Yay for me.
This is Maximum Sunshine, signing off. Αντίο και ο Θεός ταχύτητας.
Thursday, November 28, 2013
Monday, October 7, 2013
Taking A Bite Out of . . . What Exactly Are We Biting?
Do you know what is in the stuff you eat? Me neither. But don't you think we should? Recently, in my Lifestyle Assessment class, we were shown a documentary called Food Inc. The basis of the film was to show how large food companies have been monopolizing products and engineering them to be superficial and unhealthy, but cheap and quick to produce. And isn't that what it's all about these days? We live in a society where we want to buy things that don't empty our wallets, and yet don't waste any of our precious time (which we still don't think we have enough of).
Do you know what's in your chicken nuggets? Here is a quick and simple study done by the American Journal of Medicine: http://www.amjmed.com/article/S0002-9343(13)00396-3/abstract
According to Dictionary.com, the word epithelium means "any animal tissue that covers a surface, or lines a
cavity or the like, and that, in addition, performs any of various secretory, transporting, or regulatory functions" or simply the lining of something like the gut, or the intestines.
Tasty, right! Not. I, for one, will never eat processed chicken nuggets again. Sorry, McDonald's!
It's rather terrifying digging into what really goes on behind the making of our food. Now, I am going to include the documentary in this post. If you would please, just take an hour and a half out of your precious time and please watch this. It has me really wanting to grow my own food, which I just might do. No chemicals, no preservatives, just plain and simple, healthier food.
And now I present to you Food Inc:
P.S. I'm not encouraging you to believe everything in this video without doing some research of your own. But, it does bring up some great points about our current health situation.
Do you know what's in your chicken nuggets? Here is a quick and simple study done by the American Journal of Medicine: http://www.amjmed.com/article/S0002-9343(13)00396-3/abstract
According to Dictionary.com, the word epithelium means "any animal tissue that covers a surface, or lines a
cavity or the like, and that, in addition, performs any of various secretory, transporting, or regulatory functions" or simply the lining of something like the gut, or the intestines.
Tasty, right! Not. I, for one, will never eat processed chicken nuggets again. Sorry, McDonald's!
It's rather terrifying digging into what really goes on behind the making of our food. Now, I am going to include the documentary in this post. If you would please, just take an hour and a half out of your precious time and please watch this. It has me really wanting to grow my own food, which I just might do. No chemicals, no preservatives, just plain and simple, healthier food.
And now I present to you Food Inc:
P.S. I'm not encouraging you to believe everything in this video without doing some research of your own. But, it does bring up some great points about our current health situation.
Monday, September 23, 2013
Clarity: It's Not As Clear As It Sounds
Name something that you are absolutely certain about. Anything at all. Now, think hard about the certainty that you picked. How did you come to be certain about it? Did you just decide one day "I am absolutely certain that owls have a lot of feathers around their necks." Or did it take you a lot of studying and research and soul-searching to come to your conclusion? Are you certain you are certain of the certainty you have chosen? I mean, really, absolutely, no-doubt-about-it, from-the-very-center-of-your-being-certain of your certainty? . . . What about when somebody challenges your certainty? What do you do? Do you stay adamant, or does your confidence sway? What if I told you that owls' necks are just fat? We all would like to believe that we would stay strong and support our certainty with witty responses that are impossible to dismiss. Unfortunately, that is not often the case. A lot of the times, we respond with silence, or three-word responses like, "No, they're not!" but we can't think of any valid reasons why. Why are we so afraid of standing up for the things we believe, things that, for us, are a certainty? We back down when people say the opposite of our belief, or even worse, get offended by our certainty and talk it (and us) down. It's clear that we should stand up for our beliefs, so why don't we?
Fear. That's why. Fear of adversity, fear of people not liking us, and worst of all, fear of actually being wrong. Nowadays, you hear a lot of talk about equality for people and their different certainties. Choice of religion, sexual preference, tastes in music, movies, books, everyone should accept everyone else's beliefs and practices, etc., right? Not exactly. See, I think what people really want is not for their belief to be accepted, but they themselves, despite what they believe, how they think, etc. It's so clear, and yet . . . not many people can put that into action. They don't "practice what they preach." They don't stand up for what they really believe. And even worse, they slander whatever doesn't match their belief. And that, ladies and gents, is the definition of a closet hypocrite. You tell yourself what you believe and what you are gonna do about it, but when it comes time to put yourself to the test, you fail. You go against everything you told yourself you were going to accomplish, go against what you found to be absolutely certain.
I'm a closet hypocrite. I'm not going to lie and say I practice what I tell myself, and I'm sure I'm not the only hypocrite in this metaphorical closet. The fact that I am a pretender bothers me more than anything else. I'm fooling myself. Every night, before I go to bed, I tell myself "Tomorrow, you are going to be a better person than you were today. You're going to watch your mouth. You're not going to talk bad about someone just because other people are. You are going to stand up for your faith. You are going to share God with someone. You are going to be a better person for Him." And every day, I fail. I. Fail. And sometimes, I don't even want to look at my reflection, because I know that I am not real. That girl, who sits with her friends in the campus library, making crude jokes and talking bad about people she doesn't even know? That is not the real me. That girl, who, instead of standing up and being proud to call God her Father in Heaven, sits quietly and lets someone bash Him and anyone who believes in Him? That is not the real me. If I weren't such a coward, I would follow the guidelines I set up for myself. I would proudly claim God as my Father. I would let the people around me know, and I would let them know if I didn't appreciate something unnecessarily rude that they said. I would stick up for myself.
But I don't. Because I am a craven being, too afraid to face adversity. And my friends don't even know the real me. College is a place you come to reinvent yourself, the way you want. Or in some cases, reinvent yourself in a way you don't want. Which is what I have accomplished so far. Instead of going against the current, I'm floating right along with it.
But now, I'm ending this nonsense. I'm going to take my cowardly twin and drown it in this current. I am not the girl that my friends have come to known. Not at all.
The owl does not have a fat neck; it just has a thick layer of feathers surrounding it.
I am not a coward; I am a child of God. It's high time I started acting like it.
Fear. That's why. Fear of adversity, fear of people not liking us, and worst of all, fear of actually being wrong. Nowadays, you hear a lot of talk about equality for people and their different certainties. Choice of religion, sexual preference, tastes in music, movies, books, everyone should accept everyone else's beliefs and practices, etc., right? Not exactly. See, I think what people really want is not for their belief to be accepted, but they themselves, despite what they believe, how they think, etc. It's so clear, and yet . . . not many people can put that into action. They don't "practice what they preach." They don't stand up for what they really believe. And even worse, they slander whatever doesn't match their belief. And that, ladies and gents, is the definition of a closet hypocrite. You tell yourself what you believe and what you are gonna do about it, but when it comes time to put yourself to the test, you fail. You go against everything you told yourself you were going to accomplish, go against what you found to be absolutely certain.
I'm a closet hypocrite. I'm not going to lie and say I practice what I tell myself, and I'm sure I'm not the only hypocrite in this metaphorical closet. The fact that I am a pretender bothers me more than anything else. I'm fooling myself. Every night, before I go to bed, I tell myself "Tomorrow, you are going to be a better person than you were today. You're going to watch your mouth. You're not going to talk bad about someone just because other people are. You are going to stand up for your faith. You are going to share God with someone. You are going to be a better person for Him." And every day, I fail. I. Fail. And sometimes, I don't even want to look at my reflection, because I know that I am not real. That girl, who sits with her friends in the campus library, making crude jokes and talking bad about people she doesn't even know? That is not the real me. That girl, who, instead of standing up and being proud to call God her Father in Heaven, sits quietly and lets someone bash Him and anyone who believes in Him? That is not the real me. If I weren't such a coward, I would follow the guidelines I set up for myself. I would proudly claim God as my Father. I would let the people around me know, and I would let them know if I didn't appreciate something unnecessarily rude that they said. I would stick up for myself.
But I don't. Because I am a craven being, too afraid to face adversity. And my friends don't even know the real me. College is a place you come to reinvent yourself, the way you want. Or in some cases, reinvent yourself in a way you don't want. Which is what I have accomplished so far. Instead of going against the current, I'm floating right along with it.
But now, I'm ending this nonsense. I'm going to take my cowardly twin and drown it in this current. I am not the girl that my friends have come to known. Not at all.
The owl does not have a fat neck; it just has a thick layer of feathers surrounding it.
I am not a coward; I am a child of God. It's high time I started acting like it.
This is Maximum
Sunshine, signing off. Αντίο και ο Θεός
ταχύτητας. (Goodbye, and God's speed.)
Monday, August 26, 2013
Lemons
So, I understand that I have not posted since July. The 13th, to be exact. I apologize. I have been busy. By which I mean, I have been preparing armor and other Renaissance-y apparel for this year's Renaissance fair. And packing for college. Also, in my defense, I had to send my computer in . . . again. Which is what I am posting about today. I am posting to complain.
So here's the deal:
I sent my computer in to get the battery replaced and the graphics card checked. You see, it was having issues whenever I played games, like Minecraft. For example, after playing for awhile, it would just turn off, like it had gotten too hot, or something. However, if I took the battery out and played, my computer would do just fine. So, the people at Best Buy said it might be the battery or the graphics card. Also, the charger randomly stopped working. I had two days left on my warranty. As a result, I sent it in. If I could get stuffed fixed still, and not have to pay for it, why not, right?
So, they replaced the battery, and the motherboard (for the third time) and I get it back. Everything is all fine and dandy until I go to use a USB hub. I have four, two on each side of the computer. The two on the right side will not work. Now, I have a wireless mouse, with a little USB stick that plugs into the computer. Things were working fine, and then, all of a sudden, this message appears:
There has been a power surge in one of the USB hubs (or something like that). Please remove the device, something, something, something . . .
Yeah, you get the picture. Bad stuff. So, it said I could reset the hubs, and they would be fine. Every time I start up my computer, it gives me that warning, and I have to reset stuff all over again!
Will someone please tell me why I always get the lemon of the group? Toshiba is normally a pretty reliable laptop. I just happened to buy the lemon. The beginning of the summer, I got a new mattress; it had a spring about to poke through the side, so as soon as I got it, I had to take it right back to the store and wait for a new one. My aunt gave me the frame for a daybed; a screw had broken off in one of the holes to bolt it together, so we had to manhandle it to get the frame together. I get a phone with a keyboard that slides out, that's normally pretty good, but if you send a message and then slide the keyboard back in, the phone will restart and not send the message. Lemons, lemons, lemons! That's all I get. Ridiculousness!
Okay, so moving on. I've been at college for a week, now. So far, all is going well. Right now, I'm trying for the position of copy editor for the college yearbook; I thought I'd branch out, try new things. Try not to be such a recluse, you know? But, I have to finish my application, still. Hopefully, I get it. That would be awesome.
Well, I should get to working on that.
So here's the deal:
I sent my computer in to get the battery replaced and the graphics card checked. You see, it was having issues whenever I played games, like Minecraft. For example, after playing for awhile, it would just turn off, like it had gotten too hot, or something. However, if I took the battery out and played, my computer would do just fine. So, the people at Best Buy said it might be the battery or the graphics card. Also, the charger randomly stopped working. I had two days left on my warranty. As a result, I sent it in. If I could get stuffed fixed still, and not have to pay for it, why not, right?
So, they replaced the battery, and the motherboard (for the third time) and I get it back. Everything is all fine and dandy until I go to use a USB hub. I have four, two on each side of the computer. The two on the right side will not work. Now, I have a wireless mouse, with a little USB stick that plugs into the computer. Things were working fine, and then, all of a sudden, this message appears:
There has been a power surge in one of the USB hubs (or something like that). Please remove the device, something, something, something . . .
Yeah, you get the picture. Bad stuff. So, it said I could reset the hubs, and they would be fine. Every time I start up my computer, it gives me that warning, and I have to reset stuff all over again!
Will someone please tell me why I always get the lemon of the group? Toshiba is normally a pretty reliable laptop. I just happened to buy the lemon. The beginning of the summer, I got a new mattress; it had a spring about to poke through the side, so as soon as I got it, I had to take it right back to the store and wait for a new one. My aunt gave me the frame for a daybed; a screw had broken off in one of the holes to bolt it together, so we had to manhandle it to get the frame together. I get a phone with a keyboard that slides out, that's normally pretty good, but if you send a message and then slide the keyboard back in, the phone will restart and not send the message. Lemons, lemons, lemons! That's all I get. Ridiculousness!
Okay, so moving on. I've been at college for a week, now. So far, all is going well. Right now, I'm trying for the position of copy editor for the college yearbook; I thought I'd branch out, try new things. Try not to be such a recluse, you know? But, I have to finish my application, still. Hopefully, I get it. That would be awesome.
Well, I should get to working on that.
This is Maximum
Sunshine, signing off. Αντίο και ο Θεός
ταχύτητας.
Saturday, July 13, 2013
In Spite
I don't know if it's the head cold talking, or if it's New Girl, or if it's the presence of the impending school year, but I feel like remaking myself. I feel like revamping myself. I want to be . . . I don't know, less shy? Yeah, less shy. More outgoing. More apt to talk to people, make friends, be more social . . . Wow, I must have a fever. I can't believe I just said I need to be more social.
I haven't posted in a long time. A lot has happened. One of my best friends isn't coming back to college. He's gone off to the army. I don't know what to do. Who's room am I gonna hide in when I don't feel like being social anymore? I'm not ready to go back to school. Guys, I'm losing my mind. I'm out. Goodnight.
I haven't posted in a long time. A lot has happened. One of my best friends isn't coming back to college. He's gone off to the army. I don't know what to do. Who's room am I gonna hide in when I don't feel like being social anymore? I'm not ready to go back to school. Guys, I'm losing my mind. I'm out. Goodnight.
Tuesday, June 4, 2013
Okay, I Can't Help It...
. . . 2,222 views. This makes me overjoyed. Thank you.
That is all.
Toodles,
Max
That is all.
Toodles,
Max
A Thousand Things To Say...
This is one of those rare times I can't communicate my thoughts to you through words. On occasions such as this, music is the only thing that translates. Not really the lyrics, but the music itself; the piano, the guitar, the drums, the tone, and the voice used to sing the words are what translate, not the lyrics. In some cases, the lyrics are perfect, but still, it is the music around the words that leads to the appeal of a song, much like the song above. The music is how I'm feeling at the moment. Just listen.
The song is Belong by Cary Brothers.
This is Maximum
Sunshine, signing off. Αντίο και ο Θεός
ταχύτητας.
"And If You Close Your Eyes...
. . . does it almost feel like nothing's changed at all?"
I know, I usually start off with the word "So," but this song has been stuck in my head all day. Especially that line . . . 'cause it's about the only line I really know. And those stupid advertisements that you have to sit through in order to watch some YouTube videos plays it a lot, advertising Bastille and their new album Haunt, featuring the song "Pompeii", which is the song that I am singing to you above. Here is a video, so you, too, can have it stuck in your head:
I know, I usually start off with the word "So," but this song has been stuck in my head all day. Especially that line . . . 'cause it's about the only line I really know. And those stupid advertisements that you have to sit through in order to watch some YouTube videos plays it a lot, advertising Bastille and their new album Haunt, featuring the song "Pompeii", which is the song that I am singing to you above. Here is a video, so you, too, can have it stuck in your head:
So, (there it is!) I've been watching a lot of YouTube videos these past couple of days. Hence the one-liner-song obsession. Anyways, most of the videos I've watched are the DIY (Do It Yourself) kind that involve bracelets, earrings, and other accessories. However, I wandered into the DIY clothing area, and, more specifically, ripped and braided tees. So, I got inspired. Here's one that I finished at 3am yesterday morning (Monday):
I braided the back, and also tightened the sleeves. It was just a normal T-shirt, but it's a little more fitted, now. It advertises Monster energy drinks on the front:
Although, it sorta looks like it says "Mom" to me . . .
I have another one that I'm doing, but it's not quite finished yet; I'm currently hemming the neckline. But it's really cute. And blue; it's blue.
I had to work today; it went great. Even though we had over 90 people to feed. I work at a camp as a cook, and anytime you have that many people, it usually sucks to feed them all supper, wash all the dishes (plates, cups, silverware, plus everything you cooked with), clean the sinks, mop the floors, keep your brain from blowing up, and still get done by 7:30. But the people I work with are fantabulous, so everything ran smoothly. I was even entertained by the frozen peas I was cooking:
Yeah, that's right: I made a wreath of frozen peas . . . I love my job. It's even better, because this week, my gang is reuniting from last year! (Resource Team, don't know if you all remember me telling you about them, but one is back on Resource Team, again, one is a camp counselor for the week, and one just happens to be coming to town this week! Although, when the last one I mentioned texted me this morning, and asked if I was working this Thursday night, I could not, for the life of me, remember who "Nicole" was. It took me ten minutes to realize which Nicole I was talking to. See? I am not fully-functioning in the morning . . .
Tanner is finally home!!! He finally finished his three-week math class, and is back home!! Okay, I just had to tell you all that. My life is complete, now.
I think that's all I've got for you, today. Wow. This is a rather cheery post . . . I should dampen it down with some music from an agonized and tortured soul:
That's better.
This is Maximum
Sunshine, signing off. Αντίο και ο Θεός
ταχύτητας.
Friday, May 31, 2013
It Would Appear I Have No Life
Well, it's about one in the afternoon; I have just woken up. My computer is the first thing I say good morning to, even though it is not morning. Do you know what I do next? I check things. Facebook is first:
"Oh, it's someone's birthday, 'Happy birthday to you, person!'....Oh, someone poked me..'poke.'... No notifications? Nobody loves me..I shall move on..."
My blog is next:
"I wonder how many views I've gotten since yesterday...."
My blog on Tumblr:
"Does anybody love me? No comments.... Although four people are now following me. Yay, you love me! And you are all people I know! I don't know whether to be excited or sad. Excited because you are following me, or sad because perhaps you are following me out of pity, because I am a noob.... moving on..."
Gaia Online:
"Oh look, an announcement... It has absolutely no relevance to me... I must feed my virtual fishies so they will love me..."
Dragon Cave (don't ask):
"My dragon eggs are still hatching... you guys are taking forever... hurry up..."
DeviantART:
"Nothing here. No love for me..."
And then it's back to Facebook, where I waste about three hours of my life looking through the news feed.
So, as you can see, my fans, I have no life. And you know what? I rather enjoy it. Now, I'm going to try and motivate myself to work on my book . . . after I go find food.
This is Maximum Sunshine, signing off. Αντίο και ο Θεός ταχύτητας.
"Oh, it's someone's birthday, 'Happy birthday to you, person!'....Oh, someone poked me..'poke.'... No notifications? Nobody loves me..I shall move on..."
My blog is next:
"I wonder how many views I've gotten since yesterday...."
My blog on Tumblr:
"Does anybody love me? No comments.... Although four people are now following me. Yay, you love me! And you are all people I know! I don't know whether to be excited or sad. Excited because you are following me, or sad because perhaps you are following me out of pity, because I am a noob.... moving on..."
Gaia Online:
"Oh look, an announcement... It has absolutely no relevance to me... I must feed my virtual fishies so they will love me..."
Dragon Cave (don't ask):
"My dragon eggs are still hatching... you guys are taking forever... hurry up..."
DeviantART:
"Nothing here. No love for me..."
And then it's back to Facebook, where I waste about three hours of my life looking through the news feed.
So, as you can see, my fans, I have no life. And you know what? I rather enjoy it. Now, I'm going to try and motivate myself to work on my book . . . after I go find food.
This is Maximum Sunshine, signing off. Αντίο και ο Θεός ταχύτητας.
So, This Will Probably Get Annoying...
. . . But, I'm gonna do it anyways. I posted something in my story blog. You should go read it now. In the future, I will just give notices on here, and will not post the stuff from the story blog on Facebook. That will be less annoying.
http://maxscollectionoftales.blogspot.com/2013/05/the-prelude-to-my-currently-untitled.html
Bazinga.
Go wild.
--Max
http://maxscollectionoftales.blogspot.com/2013/05/the-prelude-to-my-currently-untitled.html
Bazinga.
Go wild.
--Max
Thursday, May 30, 2013
Branching Out
I have decided to branch out, as my title suggests, and try and gather my blog a few more fans. So, I have made a Tumblr account and set up the Max's Life and Beyond blog there, as well. This does not mean that I am discontinuing my blog here. At least, not yet. I’m going to see how things play out. So far, it seems as though, here, on Blogger, this blog is far more accessible to you, my current fans, as it does not require you to sign up for anything in order to leave me comments and such.
As a result, seeing as how I am not as familiar with Tumblr as I am with Blogger, I am going to keep both blogs running for the time being. Anything I post on here with also be posted on its twin blog, and vice versa, this post included.
I just want to get my story, however deranged and sporadic it may be, out there for everyone to see.
However, this does not mean, my fans, that I am abandoning you for new fans. No, I hope you stay with me. I don't even know how long I will keep the Tumblr blog; it may not even work. Only time will tell. I do hope you continue supporting me as you have done, all this time. There always comes a time when change occurs. Give Max's Life and Beyond's new location a visit, will you? For me?
http://maximum-sunshine.tumblr.com/
It's not quite as fancy as it is here, on Blogger, but I sort of like the look. It's . . . simple. Eye-pleasing. Tell me your thoughts?
Toodles,
—Max
As a result, seeing as how I am not as familiar with Tumblr as I am with Blogger, I am going to keep both blogs running for the time being. Anything I post on here with also be posted on its twin blog, and vice versa, this post included.
I just want to get my story, however deranged and sporadic it may be, out there for everyone to see.
However, this does not mean, my fans, that I am abandoning you for new fans. No, I hope you stay with me. I don't even know how long I will keep the Tumblr blog; it may not even work. Only time will tell. I do hope you continue supporting me as you have done, all this time. There always comes a time when change occurs. Give Max's Life and Beyond's new location a visit, will you? For me?
http://maximum-sunshine.tumblr.com/
It's not quite as fancy as it is here, on Blogger, but I sort of like the look. It's . . . simple. Eye-pleasing. Tell me your thoughts?
Toodles,
—Max
My First Attempt At Some Sort Of Greatness
So, my lovely roommate messaged me on Facebook about a $1000 scholarship for bloggers. Well, I blog, and my mother has been harping at me about filling out scholarships for the upcoming year, so I thought "Why not?" Anyway, I had to write an essay, 1000 words max, but they said shorter was better (weird, right?) so, this was my entry:
I began blogging
as a means of keeping track of the events that happened throughout my
life. I was never any good at keeping an
actual, pen-and-paper journal, but I always found it easier to express myself
through writing rather than trying to speak my mind aloud. So, I decided to try online blogging; there
was less of a chance for me to get a hand cramp while typing.
I latched onto
the blog world immediately; I knew people could see what I was writing, but at
the same time, I didn't have to see who was reading, or be seen in return. Blogging became my way of remaining hidden in
shadow while I exposed my secrets to the world’s glaring spotlight.
Upon first
glimpses, some of my entries don’t appear to have any real value, and truly,
some of them probably don’t; some are just for pure entertainment. But no matter what the subject matter, every
post shares something in common: me.
They all contain bits and pieces of me that I want the world to
understand.
Some posts possess
my sarcastic and witty side, shining a giant floodlight on my more humorous
strands of thought. Other posts grip
tightly to my serious self, slowly exposing the very fibers that serve as the
base for my humanity.
In everything I
write, you will find something of me there, whether it be my anger, my joy, my
sorrow, or even my laughter. It’s all
laid out for others to read and make of it what they will. Maybe some will see a bit of themselves
reflecting back at them from my words.
Or maybe they will find a window, out which they can peer and finally
make sense of something they previously couldn't understand.
Blogging for me
may have begun as a way for me to keep track of my own life, but it has quickly
escalated into my way of presenting who I am, so that others might understand
me—and perhaps even themselves—a little better than they did before.
Well, what do you all think? (Leave me a comment!)
Now, this scholarship is unlike many in the fact that you, lovely fans, are the ones who will decide my fate. Yes, that is right, you will be voting on whether I should win this scholarship or not. Now, the voting does not begin until this coming November, on the 14th, and it ends specifically at noon Pacific Time on November 27th, which will be 2:00 pm Central Time.
Now, this scholarship is unlike many in the fact that you, lovely fans, are the ones who will decide my fate. Yes, that is right, you will be voting on whether I should win this scholarship or not. Now, the voting does not begin until this coming November, on the 14th, and it ends specifically at noon Pacific Time on November 27th, which will be 2:00 pm Central Time.
Of course, you will forget all of this by the time November rolls around, but I will send out another post, reminding you to vote. From what I read on last year's winner's blog, you can vote once per day during the allotted voting time. As I said, I will remind you all of this when the time comes.
I figured I would at least attempt this scholarship, because it seems pretty up-my-alley, if you know what I mean.
If you blog, and would like to enter for a chance to win this scholarship...jeez, I sound like one of those "Enter To Win!" commercials on TV..."Just call this number, and you can be entered for a chance to win a trip to blah, blah blah!".....here's the link:
http://www.collegescholarships.org/our-scholarships/blogging.htm
http://www.collegescholarships.org/our-scholarships/blogging.htm
Thanks again, Shannon, for sending this to me!
This is Maximum
Sunshine, signing off. Αντίο και ο Θεός
ταχύτητας.
Tuesday, May 7, 2013
Because People Would Get Angry If I Updated My Facebook Status Every Few Minutes, and Because I Don't Have Twitter
I don't like it when people update their statuses on Facebook every second. However, I can understand why some do. Sometimes, you just get the urge to update your status with witty things. That's why Twitter was created: for people with Status-Updation Compulsion Disorder (SUCD). And although I hate to admit it, I am having a SUCD fit. So, instead of updating my Facebook status every two minutes and end up annoying a lot of people, I shall create a post of statuses that I feel like posting, right this instant. Feel free to borrow some of these incredibly witty statements.
- Dust is the bane of my existence. (Currently my FB status).
- Sometimes I have the urge to do TBH statuses, but then I remember that I would be too lazy to answer any of them.
- The main reason I never clean my room: I get distracted by all the little notes and nostalgic paraphernalia from my high school days and/or childhood.
- Internet, you are distracting me almost as much as my childhood memories I keep finding all over my bedroom floor. Please stop it.
- Hash tags belong on Twitter, not Facebook. Get it straight, folks.
- I play epic sounding music while cleaning my room. Instead of motivating me to clean faster, however, I just end up clutching clothes or other objects I happen to have picked off the floor at that time, pretending I'm in a music video. I am, in the words similar of my friend, Jordan, total lame-sauce.
- Music lyrics for statuses. Enough said, there.
- Having a 50 ft Ethernet cable is not helpful. Why? Because it allows me to get Internet upstairs in my room, which in turn allows me to get on Facebook instead of cleaning my room.
- My car must think we are on the run because I did something illegal; I have done more driving in the past four days than I have done all year, I think.
- I always thought I was pretty tom-boyish, not too girly. Then, I found all 14 of my purses. -shakes head sadly-
- I didn't realize how much of a pack rat I was until I debated with myself about throwing away a scarp of paper with a doodle on it. It's memorabilia, I said. No, its trash, I said . . . I'll throw it away later, when I know for sure I don't need it, I concluded. I'm so bad, I keep candy, thinking, oh, it's still good, I'll eat it later. . . I need help.
- I have all sorts of fun things I plan to do this summer. Which means I probably won't do any of them.
- I love being home. The feeling of inhaling cat hair up your nose is absolutely invigorating.
- Stuff all over my floor. Must sweep carpet. Solution? Throw everything on my bed and tell myself I'll sort through it later. My cleaning method at its best!
- When you find swords hidden in all four corners of your room, and two baseball bats in your closet, you begin to question your levels of paranoia.
- Mismatched socks are also the bane of my existence.
- Our new vacuum cleaner was a little too eager to clean my bedroom carpet; it pulled me across the room, and I stubbed my pinkie toe on it in the process.
- Ah, I love the smell of dog breathe on my face in the morning.
Well, folks, I think that is the extent of SUCD fit. Now, I have a question for you guys, and your responses will determine my final decision: Should I get a Twitter account, or not, and, if I did, would you all follow me? (Because me getting a Twitter account would be strictly for my blog and its readers: so, all of you.) Comment yes or no in the comment section of this post.
Don't leave me hanging; leave me a comment!
This is Maximum
Sunshine, signing off. Αντίο και ο Θεός
ταχύτητας.
Free To Do Absolutely Nothing For The Next Three Months
Well, everyone, I am officially done with my first year of college. It's rather hard to believe, actually. I feel old.
So, some things have happened since I last spoke at you:
First, I helped my sister shoot a wedding. (Photography, people, not guns. Come on, now).
Second, while shooting this wedding, I felt like I was in an episode of Supernatural.
Third, I got a full body massage.
Fourth . . . yeah, I don't have a fourth thing to tell you. Except, what should have come before the wedding thing: I finished my first year of college, and I almost died trying to pack all of my crap in my car. But besides that . . .
So, my sister is starting up a photography business (she's fabulous, by the way. I'll put a link to her Facebook page at the bottom of this post. A little harmless advertising for my wonderful sister). Anyway, this last weekend, she shot her first wedding. Long story short, people got wasted way too early and didn't really do what they were supposed to do; they were a lively bunch, though, so the pictures were lovely and very spontaneous. But, there was plenty of drama, as there always is at weddings, full of disputes and "he said, she said's," and there was no shortage of tears, some happy, others not so happy. But it was quite the experience, I will say that much.
Now, on to the Supernatural part. For those of you who don't know what Supernatural is, you can get the gist of the story line of Season 1 here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Supernatural_(season_1). Great show. Anywho, for those who know of the greatness of Supernatural, the reason I felt like I was in an episode was because my sister and I started out the weekend in a classic Sam and Dean style: lots of fast driving on deserted roads in the middle of nowhere, until we came to a small, deserted town, where we checked in to a little motel (the kind with the doors to the rooms accessible from outside, all lined up in a row, right next to active train tracks, which was very annoying). The room was just like the ones in Supernatural: two beds, one bathroom, and strange decorating. Everything was eerily quiet (except for the stupid trains), and when we did see people, they acted that off-standish nice/suspicious way that small-town townsfolk usually act towards strangers. It was all very deja vu, in a 'heyIsawthisonTVonetime' sort of way.
Before I can tell you about the full body massage, I must explain that I have done so much driving in the past few days that I am not sure how much more my poor bottom can take. Also, when I came home for a little bit on the drive back to my sister's house, both my sister and I shot our brother's giant shot gun. Let's just say I nearly got knocked on my poor behind every single time, that thing kicked so much. I'm surprised I haven't bruised yet, although my shoulder is very sore. Well, you get the gist of it. I was very sore after the wedding weekend and shotgun-shooting. Where my sister works (a salon), they just got a new massage therapist, so my dearest sister set me up an appointment with the new girl for an hour-long, full body massage. To put it mildly, it was supercalifragilistic--. . . amazing. Pure bliss. However, the kicker was that afterwards, I was to drink tons of water, otherwise I would be sore the next day. Well, I drank a bunch of water, and I'm pretty sure even if I drank the Great Lakes, I would still be sore. I know this because, right now, I am sore. It was sort of a win/lose situation, but in my opinion, totally worth it.
And now, I am home for the summer, and I plan to spend as much time as I can doing trivial, but fun little tasks, like. . . well, practically nothing. Except for work, which is gonna be starting sometime here, I plan on being lazy. And it will be glorious.
Here is the link I promised, to my sister's photography page on Facebook. Give it a like!
https://www.facebook.com/TaBuoPhotography?fref=ts
So, some things have happened since I last spoke at you:
First, I helped my sister shoot a wedding. (Photography, people, not guns. Come on, now).
Second, while shooting this wedding, I felt like I was in an episode of Supernatural.
Third, I got a full body massage.
Fourth . . . yeah, I don't have a fourth thing to tell you. Except, what should have come before the wedding thing: I finished my first year of college, and I almost died trying to pack all of my crap in my car. But besides that . . .
So, my sister is starting up a photography business (she's fabulous, by the way. I'll put a link to her Facebook page at the bottom of this post. A little harmless advertising for my wonderful sister). Anyway, this last weekend, she shot her first wedding. Long story short, people got wasted way too early and didn't really do what they were supposed to do; they were a lively bunch, though, so the pictures were lovely and very spontaneous. But, there was plenty of drama, as there always is at weddings, full of disputes and "he said, she said's," and there was no shortage of tears, some happy, others not so happy. But it was quite the experience, I will say that much.
Now, on to the Supernatural part. For those of you who don't know what Supernatural is, you can get the gist of the story line of Season 1 here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Supernatural_(season_1). Great show. Anywho, for those who know of the greatness of Supernatural, the reason I felt like I was in an episode was because my sister and I started out the weekend in a classic Sam and Dean style: lots of fast driving on deserted roads in the middle of nowhere, until we came to a small, deserted town, where we checked in to a little motel (the kind with the doors to the rooms accessible from outside, all lined up in a row, right next to active train tracks, which was very annoying). The room was just like the ones in Supernatural: two beds, one bathroom, and strange decorating. Everything was eerily quiet (except for the stupid trains), and when we did see people, they acted that off-standish nice/suspicious way that small-town townsfolk usually act towards strangers. It was all very deja vu, in a 'heyIsawthisonTVonetime' sort of way.
Before I can tell you about the full body massage, I must explain that I have done so much driving in the past few days that I am not sure how much more my poor bottom can take. Also, when I came home for a little bit on the drive back to my sister's house, both my sister and I shot our brother's giant shot gun. Let's just say I nearly got knocked on my poor behind every single time, that thing kicked so much. I'm surprised I haven't bruised yet, although my shoulder is very sore. Well, you get the gist of it. I was very sore after the wedding weekend and shotgun-shooting. Where my sister works (a salon), they just got a new massage therapist, so my dearest sister set me up an appointment with the new girl for an hour-long, full body massage. To put it mildly, it was supercalifragilistic--. . . amazing. Pure bliss. However, the kicker was that afterwards, I was to drink tons of water, otherwise I would be sore the next day. Well, I drank a bunch of water, and I'm pretty sure even if I drank the Great Lakes, I would still be sore. I know this because, right now, I am sore. It was sort of a win/lose situation, but in my opinion, totally worth it.
And now, I am home for the summer, and I plan to spend as much time as I can doing trivial, but fun little tasks, like. . . well, practically nothing. Except for work, which is gonna be starting sometime here, I plan on being lazy. And it will be glorious.
Here is the link I promised, to my sister's photography page on Facebook. Give it a like!
https://www.facebook.com/TaBuoPhotography?fref=ts
This is Maximum
Sunshine, signing off. Αντίο και ο Θεός
ταχύτητας.
Tuesday, April 23, 2013
The Troublesome, Depressing, and Truly Uninspiring
I realize I haven't written anything in awhile. On any other occasion, I'd say the usual: forgive my absence, I've been super busy, blah, blah, blah.
But the truth is I just haven't had any inspiration, and nobody wants to read something that is uninspiring. That is, unless it is so utterly uninspiring that one is too dumbfounded to be bored. In that case, I have some truly uninspiring troubles to lay on the table for you all to inspect and contemplate at your leisure.
Uninspiring Tale Numero Uno: Infidelity. That's uninspiring, right? So, the short (and extremely vague) version is that I came across the knowledge that a friend of mine was, to put it simply, helping another person cheat. By cheat, I don't mean like on a test; I mean cheat on another person. Now, I know the other two party members, but then I came to the conundrum of when is it right for an outside party member (a.k.a., me) to inform the individual being cheated on of their partner's infidelity? (Improper English, I know. Technically, it should be his or her partner's infidelity, but for the sake of hiding identities, give me a little slack.) Should I inform that person, or should I not? Should I come down on the person's significant, cheating other, or not? What does it take for the situation to begin including outside party members in its tangled web? Never? When the actions of the cheaters go too, for lack of a better term, far? When can they be classified at "too far"? You see the dilemma I was having. In the end, I chose to speak to the person I was closest to, the one assisting in the cheating. I made my point, "cheating is wrong, your decisions are just going to hurt everyone involved, this won't have a fairy-tale ending, like you're imagining, this is not a movie, it's real life, etc., etc."
Eventually, the two deceiving party members came clean to the one being cheated on, but tensions are still running thick.
Do not mistake my sharing this as trying to make an example out of my friends, or share their secret with the world, or whatever. My point in telling this was to make sense of my own thoughts and decisions.
There's a quote that I found while scrolling through the Facebook news feed that pretty much sums up the fact why I write. It goes something like this:
Writers write down what they want to tell you because they don't know how to say it out loud.
I just didn't know how to express my feelings out loud. And it was kind of nibbling on the edges of my brain, which can cause a person to go crazy.
Now, on to more troubling. . . troubles. I am officially sick for home. Homesick. I want to go home, now. I'm tired of school; I'm tired of painting and drawing; I'm tired of spending more time in the art studio, by myself, than anywhere else. My bed is the most neglected little being; it only gets to cuddle with me for about 6-7 hours, sometimes 8, if it's lucky. The water here is disgusting. People are far noisier than usual. I miss my turtles. And my parents. Okay, I worded that wrong. I miss my parents the most, then my turtles. My daddy tells me they're growing like weeds; the bigger one can barely fit on the floating platform now. The little one has been the same size since I got him: about the size of a fifty-cent piece. But, he's finally growing. And I'm stuck here, missing it. I want well-water. I want to feed my turtles. I want to pet my cats with my feet, and use my giant dog as a foot rest while I sit around and do absolutely nothing. I miss having time to do nothing. I want to go home. Immediately. I have freshmanitis. (That's like senioritis, except I'm not a senior). Also, I want warm weather. It rained, and then snowed yesterday, so today, everything was coated with a sheet of ice. I nearly fell three times on my way to class. Right now, the sun is out, turning the ground to mud, which is much more acceptable than snow, but just as slippery. And worse to fall down in; mud isn't very forgiving on clothing.
Besides the cold weather ruining my day, I can't have Monster energy drinks anymore. I have recently found that the ginseng in it has the same effect on me that it does on my dad: it makes us unbelievably cranky. After drinking a Monster, I snarl at everyone who speaks to me, and snarl worse when no one snarls back. Since the point of an energy drink is to give me energy to be productive, it kind of defeats the purpose. I end up channeling all of that energy into rage, which isn't helpful when it comes to productivity. So I have half a case of Monster in my closet that I can't drink, because it turns me into a giant green monster. Ha, get it? I drink green Monster? Which turns me into a green monster? No, not funny? See, this is what college does to you; for some unknown reason, you end up using a lot of puns. Even worse, you begin to think the puns are funny. They're not.
I think I am done rambling for the day. I'm going to go cuddle up with my beloved bed (Tanner, you're still my #1 beloved, I promise) and watch some TV, which has also been neglected. But, I will also be productive (Monster not included) and do my Psychology assignment that is due Friday. Do I get points for not procrastinating? Give me thy points, so that I may exchange thee points for gas in order to make thee journey back to my dearest homeland. . .
I almost tried brushing my teeth with my razor this morning, because I accidentally grabbed it instead of my toothbrush. Some days, one should not venture from beneath the sheets; 'tis too dangerous for the rest of the world. Today was one of those days.
Enjoy the rest of your evening, ladies and gentlemen.
But the truth is I just haven't had any inspiration, and nobody wants to read something that is uninspiring. That is, unless it is so utterly uninspiring that one is too dumbfounded to be bored. In that case, I have some truly uninspiring troubles to lay on the table for you all to inspect and contemplate at your leisure.
Uninspiring Tale Numero Uno: Infidelity. That's uninspiring, right? So, the short (and extremely vague) version is that I came across the knowledge that a friend of mine was, to put it simply, helping another person cheat. By cheat, I don't mean like on a test; I mean cheat on another person. Now, I know the other two party members, but then I came to the conundrum of when is it right for an outside party member (a.k.a., me) to inform the individual being cheated on of their partner's infidelity? (Improper English, I know. Technically, it should be his or her partner's infidelity, but for the sake of hiding identities, give me a little slack.) Should I inform that person, or should I not? Should I come down on the person's significant, cheating other, or not? What does it take for the situation to begin including outside party members in its tangled web? Never? When the actions of the cheaters go too, for lack of a better term, far? When can they be classified at "too far"? You see the dilemma I was having. In the end, I chose to speak to the person I was closest to, the one assisting in the cheating. I made my point, "cheating is wrong, your decisions are just going to hurt everyone involved, this won't have a fairy-tale ending, like you're imagining, this is not a movie, it's real life, etc., etc."
Eventually, the two deceiving party members came clean to the one being cheated on, but tensions are still running thick.
Do not mistake my sharing this as trying to make an example out of my friends, or share their secret with the world, or whatever. My point in telling this was to make sense of my own thoughts and decisions.
There's a quote that I found while scrolling through the Facebook news feed that pretty much sums up the fact why I write. It goes something like this:
Writers write down what they want to tell you because they don't know how to say it out loud.
I just didn't know how to express my feelings out loud. And it was kind of nibbling on the edges of my brain, which can cause a person to go crazy.
Now, on to more troubling. . . troubles. I am officially sick for home. Homesick. I want to go home, now. I'm tired of school; I'm tired of painting and drawing; I'm tired of spending more time in the art studio, by myself, than anywhere else. My bed is the most neglected little being; it only gets to cuddle with me for about 6-7 hours, sometimes 8, if it's lucky. The water here is disgusting. People are far noisier than usual. I miss my turtles. And my parents. Okay, I worded that wrong. I miss my parents the most, then my turtles. My daddy tells me they're growing like weeds; the bigger one can barely fit on the floating platform now. The little one has been the same size since I got him: about the size of a fifty-cent piece. But, he's finally growing. And I'm stuck here, missing it. I want well-water. I want to feed my turtles. I want to pet my cats with my feet, and use my giant dog as a foot rest while I sit around and do absolutely nothing. I miss having time to do nothing. I want to go home. Immediately. I have freshmanitis. (That's like senioritis, except I'm not a senior). Also, I want warm weather. It rained, and then snowed yesterday, so today, everything was coated with a sheet of ice. I nearly fell three times on my way to class. Right now, the sun is out, turning the ground to mud, which is much more acceptable than snow, but just as slippery. And worse to fall down in; mud isn't very forgiving on clothing.
Besides the cold weather ruining my day, I can't have Monster energy drinks anymore. I have recently found that the ginseng in it has the same effect on me that it does on my dad: it makes us unbelievably cranky. After drinking a Monster, I snarl at everyone who speaks to me, and snarl worse when no one snarls back. Since the point of an energy drink is to give me energy to be productive, it kind of defeats the purpose. I end up channeling all of that energy into rage, which isn't helpful when it comes to productivity. So I have half a case of Monster in my closet that I can't drink, because it turns me into a giant green monster. Ha, get it? I drink green Monster? Which turns me into a green monster? No, not funny? See, this is what college does to you; for some unknown reason, you end up using a lot of puns. Even worse, you begin to think the puns are funny. They're not.
I think I am done rambling for the day. I'm going to go cuddle up with my beloved bed (Tanner, you're still my #1 beloved, I promise) and watch some TV, which has also been neglected. But, I will also be productive (Monster not included) and do my Psychology assignment that is due Friday. Do I get points for not procrastinating? Give me thy points, so that I may exchange thee points for gas in order to make thee journey back to my dearest homeland. . .
I almost tried brushing my teeth with my razor this morning, because I accidentally grabbed it instead of my toothbrush. Some days, one should not venture from beneath the sheets; 'tis too dangerous for the rest of the world. Today was one of those days.
Enjoy the rest of your evening, ladies and gentlemen.
This is Maximum
Sunshine, signing off. Αντίο και ο Θεός
ταχύτητας.
Monday, March 4, 2013
Top 10: College Edition
Hey, everybody. Being home is great. I get to sit and be lazy, watch movies, not worry about homework, and most importantly, I get to stay in my pajamas (not that I didn't do that in college anyway, but at college, I had to wear pants. Sometimes, you just don't wanna wear pants. That's just the way it is.) So being home is great. However, there are a few things I miss about college. Here are my top ten:
#1. No cat hair: I have a lot of black clothing. I have a white, long-haired cat who loves to lay on soft, cushion-y things. . . like my duffel bag, for example. I also have white clothes, and other colored clothing. I have a black cat who sheds on those clothes, too. College = no cat hair, which = happy Max.
#2. No dust: My nose is very sensitive to dust, cat hair, cats in general. . . and there's a lot of dust and cat hair in my house. Those things are not at college. Therefore, I sneeze less at college. To give you a better picture, I can count the number of times I have sneezed in the past 30 days on one hand while at college. Here, at home, I lost count around 20 or so. . . in a span of probably 10 minutes, or so. Fun.
#3. Not having to drive everywhere: The college I attend is in a fairly small town, which means I can walk everywhere to get groceries. Except when it's cold. When it's cold, I make other people drive me. But all my friends live on campus, so it's only a short walk across campus to go see them. But at home, if I want to go see friends, I can't just walk to where they live; unless I want to walk 15 miles, which I don't. I'm too lazy. At home, I must drive, and my Nessie (my Mountaineer) only gets barely 18 miles a gallon. And gas is expensive.
#4. Variety in food choices (for the most part): At home, I get TV dinners, burritos, Popsicles, the occasional Hot Pocket, peanut butter, bread, cereal, and milk (although hardly ever at the same time as cereal), and sometimes, I'm even graced with orange juice! So, my home is getting better stocked for food, but usually it's things you can't combine. If you want a sandwich, your choice is peanut butter, or mayonnaise and cheese. That's it. You gotta get creative sometimes. At college, there's pizza, burgers, chicken strips, sub sandwiches, pasta, Chinese, Mongolian, Mexican, American! Steak, mashed potatoes, jello, ice cream, cake, pie, everything!! Although the quality of these food items is sometimes questionable, but hey, they're trying, right?
#5. Being social: I know what you're thinking--Max, a socialite?! Well, I can assure you, I am not a socialite. I never will be. I enjoy my privacy too much. However, I do have rare moments where I actually feel like being social. And I can do that because the people I feel like socializing with all live within less than a half-mile radius of me. But at home? Try a 15-mile radius.
#6. Faster Internet: Do I even have to explain myself on this one?
#7. All my art stuff is at school: The moments I actually want to do artsy stuff that isn't for homework and I have time to do artsy stuff, my artsy stuff is not available to access.
#8. A bed: At home, its either the couch, the chair, or the floor, because my room is occupied (thank you, brother) and it's too cold upstairs, anyway. I sleep on the floor, with the cat hair, and dogs walking across my face. At least I can roll around on the floor. And I sleep by the stove, so I'm warm. But, at college, I have a bed that I actually find comfortable. And I'm the only one who occupies it.
#9. I'm closer to Walmart: Pretty self-explanatory. I mean, come on, it's Walmart. They have everything.
#10. Cell-phone service: When I am at college, I always have service. Except in the elevators. No service there. But still. Here, at home, I have to find little nooks and crannies to set my phone in order for it to get one bar, maybe. Those places total up to only 5: the shelf above the computer; on the piano; on the DVD shelf, right next to where I'm sitting right now; in my room, on my bed, against my dresser; and outside by the light pole. The piano one is kinda iffy; sometimes, messages come through on time, sometimes they come through 3 hours later. Depends on the day.
So, those are the things I miss about college. Not as strong of a list as for the things I miss about being home, but, still some pretty important things on this list. Like no cat hair.
Happy Monday, everyone.
This is Maximum Sunshine, signing off. Αντίο και ο Θεός ταχύτητας.
#1. No cat hair: I have a lot of black clothing. I have a white, long-haired cat who loves to lay on soft, cushion-y things. . . like my duffel bag, for example. I also have white clothes, and other colored clothing. I have a black cat who sheds on those clothes, too. College = no cat hair, which = happy Max.
#2. No dust: My nose is very sensitive to dust, cat hair, cats in general. . . and there's a lot of dust and cat hair in my house. Those things are not at college. Therefore, I sneeze less at college. To give you a better picture, I can count the number of times I have sneezed in the past 30 days on one hand while at college. Here, at home, I lost count around 20 or so. . . in a span of probably 10 minutes, or so. Fun.
#3. Not having to drive everywhere: The college I attend is in a fairly small town, which means I can walk everywhere to get groceries. Except when it's cold. When it's cold, I make other people drive me. But all my friends live on campus, so it's only a short walk across campus to go see them. But at home, if I want to go see friends, I can't just walk to where they live; unless I want to walk 15 miles, which I don't. I'm too lazy. At home, I must drive, and my Nessie (my Mountaineer) only gets barely 18 miles a gallon. And gas is expensive.
#4. Variety in food choices (for the most part): At home, I get TV dinners, burritos, Popsicles, the occasional Hot Pocket, peanut butter, bread, cereal, and milk (although hardly ever at the same time as cereal), and sometimes, I'm even graced with orange juice! So, my home is getting better stocked for food, but usually it's things you can't combine. If you want a sandwich, your choice is peanut butter, or mayonnaise and cheese. That's it. You gotta get creative sometimes. At college, there's pizza, burgers, chicken strips, sub sandwiches, pasta, Chinese, Mongolian, Mexican, American! Steak, mashed potatoes, jello, ice cream, cake, pie, everything!! Although the quality of these food items is sometimes questionable, but hey, they're trying, right?
#5. Being social: I know what you're thinking--Max, a socialite?! Well, I can assure you, I am not a socialite. I never will be. I enjoy my privacy too much. However, I do have rare moments where I actually feel like being social. And I can do that because the people I feel like socializing with all live within less than a half-mile radius of me. But at home? Try a 15-mile radius.
#6. Faster Internet: Do I even have to explain myself on this one?
#7. All my art stuff is at school: The moments I actually want to do artsy stuff that isn't for homework and I have time to do artsy stuff, my artsy stuff is not available to access.
#8. A bed: At home, its either the couch, the chair, or the floor, because my room is occupied (thank you, brother) and it's too cold upstairs, anyway. I sleep on the floor, with the cat hair, and dogs walking across my face. At least I can roll around on the floor. And I sleep by the stove, so I'm warm. But, at college, I have a bed that I actually find comfortable. And I'm the only one who occupies it.
#9. I'm closer to Walmart: Pretty self-explanatory. I mean, come on, it's Walmart. They have everything.
#10. Cell-phone service: When I am at college, I always have service. Except in the elevators. No service there. But still. Here, at home, I have to find little nooks and crannies to set my phone in order for it to get one bar, maybe. Those places total up to only 5: the shelf above the computer; on the piano; on the DVD shelf, right next to where I'm sitting right now; in my room, on my bed, against my dresser; and outside by the light pole. The piano one is kinda iffy; sometimes, messages come through on time, sometimes they come through 3 hours later. Depends on the day.
So, those are the things I miss about college. Not as strong of a list as for the things I miss about being home, but, still some pretty important things on this list. Like no cat hair.
Happy Monday, everyone.
This is Maximum Sunshine, signing off. Αντίο και ο Θεός ταχύτητας.
Friday, March 1, 2013
Top 10: Home Edition
So, it's the night before Spring break begins here, and I get to go home tomorrow. So, while in the shower, I was thinking of things that I miss about being home, and also things about that I miss about college when I'm gone. So, here are the things I miss about being home:
#1. My family: Although they are slightly crazy, they are my kind of crazy. I mean, we're related, so of course their my kind of crazy. Maybe it's the other way around, since I was born last, so I'd be their kind of crazy. . . You get the picture.
#2. My cats: I miss their crazy antics while I'm trying to sleep; the awkward positions they sleep in that should be physically impossible for cats, but they somehow manage; when Chloe sticks her paws under the door after I lock her out of the bathroom, and drags my undergarments out into the hallway as a means of revenge; when Spock runs through the house with his tail puffed up like a giant, black pipe cleaner and glares at us from under the table after he does something embarrassing, like jump for the couch and completely miss it because he is uncoordinated. Good times.
#3. Bear: I miss his facial expressions (because yes, it's true, some dogs do have facial expressions). You can totally tell when he has done something bad, is really tired, or whether he is about to grace you with a deafening bark for blowing in his face (he hates it). And when I say deafening, I mean you lose your hearing for a few seconds after he lets loose that thundering bark.
#4. Our pellet stove: Granted, the heater in my dorm room is very efficient (because I live in a room about the size of a slightly large closet) but I miss sitting in front of the fire, despite the fact that I can't really see it because there is so much soot covering the little window in the door, but still. It's the idea that counts.
#5. Having time to do absolutely nothing: Here at college, although it seems like a student would have lots of time for fun, it's a lie. We do not have lots of time. I have had so little time, that it took me almost two months to read a little 300 page book. And it's the only book I've read. This entire year. It's very sad. And tonight, for example, since I finally have no homework, I spent from 3:30 in the afternoon until about an hour and a half ago, watching movies. I have had hardly any time to watch movies, so I felt deprived. I'm good, now, though.
#6. My bathroom: It stays nice and warm, has a heat light, and water pressure in the shower. Even better, it doesn't have a shower head, so it's just a stream of water coming coming from the hose ('cause it's one of the ones that you can take off the wall and stuffs). Weird, I know, but I like it that way.
#7. Seeing my old friends: Enough said.
#8. Being lazy: Really, do I need to say more?
#9. My turtles: The reason I'm so excited to see my turtles is because, after almost the entire winter of not eating, mostly sleeping, but not hibernating, my two little ninjas are finally eating again. And it's fun to watch them eat.
#10. Free laundry: I'm out of quarters.
So, those are the main reasons I miss being home. Now, once I get home, I'll write you guys a list of the things I miss about college. It's only appropriate, because college is fun, I promise. So, until then:
#1. My family: Although they are slightly crazy, they are my kind of crazy. I mean, we're related, so of course their my kind of crazy. Maybe it's the other way around, since I was born last, so I'd be their kind of crazy. . . You get the picture.
#2. My cats: I miss their crazy antics while I'm trying to sleep; the awkward positions they sleep in that should be physically impossible for cats, but they somehow manage; when Chloe sticks her paws under the door after I lock her out of the bathroom, and drags my undergarments out into the hallway as a means of revenge; when Spock runs through the house with his tail puffed up like a giant, black pipe cleaner and glares at us from under the table after he does something embarrassing, like jump for the couch and completely miss it because he is uncoordinated. Good times.
#3. Bear: I miss his facial expressions (because yes, it's true, some dogs do have facial expressions). You can totally tell when he has done something bad, is really tired, or whether he is about to grace you with a deafening bark for blowing in his face (he hates it). And when I say deafening, I mean you lose your hearing for a few seconds after he lets loose that thundering bark.
#4. Our pellet stove: Granted, the heater in my dorm room is very efficient (because I live in a room about the size of a slightly large closet) but I miss sitting in front of the fire, despite the fact that I can't really see it because there is so much soot covering the little window in the door, but still. It's the idea that counts.
#5. Having time to do absolutely nothing: Here at college, although it seems like a student would have lots of time for fun, it's a lie. We do not have lots of time. I have had so little time, that it took me almost two months to read a little 300 page book. And it's the only book I've read. This entire year. It's very sad. And tonight, for example, since I finally have no homework, I spent from 3:30 in the afternoon until about an hour and a half ago, watching movies. I have had hardly any time to watch movies, so I felt deprived. I'm good, now, though.
#6. My bathroom: It stays nice and warm, has a heat light, and water pressure in the shower. Even better, it doesn't have a shower head, so it's just a stream of water coming coming from the hose ('cause it's one of the ones that you can take off the wall and stuffs). Weird, I know, but I like it that way.
#7. Seeing my old friends: Enough said.
#8. Being lazy: Really, do I need to say more?
#9. My turtles: The reason I'm so excited to see my turtles is because, after almost the entire winter of not eating, mostly sleeping, but not hibernating, my two little ninjas are finally eating again. And it's fun to watch them eat.
#10. Free laundry: I'm out of quarters.
So, those are the main reasons I miss being home. Now, once I get home, I'll write you guys a list of the things I miss about college. It's only appropriate, because college is fun, I promise. So, until then:
This is Maximum Sunshine, signing off.
Αντίο και ο Θεός ταχύτητας.
Saturday, January 26, 2013
I Forgot Why I Don't Work Out. . . But It's Okay, My Entire Body Writhing In Agony Whenever I Move Just Reminded Me Again
Hey everybody. I know, I got behind on posting. Again. I'm sure you've come to expect that, so I'm going to stop apologizing. Now, onto business.
You know how people create New Year's resolutions, ones that usually involve some sort of exercise, but then ditch them after about 30 days? I got one of those, and yes, it involves exercise. If you couldn't tell by the title of this post, exercise is something I haven't done in awhile. Since my junior year in high school, in fact, when I was forced to participate in physical activities such as running, jump-roping, weight-lifting, and being pummeled into the floor by a teammate while playing touch football. "I got it, I got it!" BAM! UGH! THUMP! CRACK! <---(the sound of my skull hitting the concrete). -thumbs up- Fun!
Okay, so you can see through my sarcasm at the end there, that I don't like physically demanding activities. And yet, there I was, creeping through the Rec Center at my college, searching for the group that a friend told me was participating in some sort of workout that included boxing--the one sport I enjoy, because you get to punch people in the face, and nobody yells at you for it.
Last week, a little blonde birdie, who is in most of my classes, told me the people I was looking for were in one of the racquetball courts. So there I was, sneaking past the first two courts until I got to the last one, where I proceeded to slowly peek around the corner, trying to remain invisible. Fail. I was immediately seen by one of the guys inside, who stared at me like I was a creeper. So, also like a creeper, after he saw me, I immediately jerked back and hid behind the wall again.
All this time, there were many, many people--mostly track people--swarming around me, looking at me like I could possibly have a bomb strapped to my chest, or I was just some. . . well, creeper, I guess.
Suddenly, one of the guys came out of the court and sat down to stretch. So, I took my chance and asked what was going on in the racquetball room/court thingy. The conversation was very short and ended with him dragging me inside to meet everyone else. By everyone else, I mean the four other people who were in there. All guys. Awkward, eh?
Turns out, they were all pretty cool. Most of them were experienced in some sort of MMA fighting, and there I was with my wimpy boxing skills, but they didn't look at me like I was stupid, so I worked out with them. Mostly, they just wrestled each other, and I did random shadow boxing, and some sit-ups. My workout didn't make a whole lot of sense. Plus, the floor was super hard and I bruised my tailbone. But everybody was cool, and invited me to work out with them on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Why not, right?
Now, I know what you're thinking: one girl + five or six guys (usually just three, sometimes four; the other ones don't come every time) = a rather unnerving situation if they happened to be creepers. Believe me, that ran through my mind the entire time when I first met them. (No offense, guys. You know who you are). But, I quickly learned that majority of them either had girlfriends, or had a crush on some other girls, which diminished the negative chances by 55%. Let me tell you, that alone was a huge relief. But still, they could be creepy, right? But the chances of that were lessened by another 30% after just hanging out and simply talking to them. So, guys, that means there is still a 15% you guys are all creepers, but those are odds I can live with. You are, after all, teaching me moves that I could use against you if the situation arose. -insert Tabari and Barrels' evil laughter here- <---(The names of two of my new friends who enjoy producing sound effects, especially those that sound of alienistic origins...or pterodactyls)
Alright, back to you, all the rest of my fans. This recently passed Thursday, I participated in a workout in which you spent three minutes doing some sort of exercise, such as wall-sits, jump-roping, etc. When the three minutes were up, you'd go do another three-minute exercise, and so on and so forth, until you completed the list of exercises which numbered somewhere in the teens, courtesy of Grant, one of the more insane ones in the group. It's okay, he already admitted it was true.
Now, while the workout was a pain my butt (and my back, my thighs, my calves, my stomach, even my ankles) it was still somewhat fun. Probably because in the minute rest in between stations, somebody would make some crack comments, or do something silly to lighten the atmosphere.
I say that with some nostalgia, for at the moment, it is not fun at all. Why? My thighs and calves hurt so bad that I look like a penguinated zombie when I try to walk down stairs of any type. You even poke me, and it hurts.
But what's really nice is that they often ask me to hang out with them outside of working out, whether it be to play video games (which it usually is) or watching a movie. It makes me happy, but also wary. Happy because it seems that my company is actually enjoyable; wary because, most of the time, these friendships quickly end with people getting annoyed with me.
So I'm trying to balance myself out. This involves me staying fairly quiet when I hang out with them, because, well, for one, I don't have a loud voice, and they do. So even if I did talk a lot, you couldn't really hear me. Curses of being a tiny female. Second, they are all very funny guys. I, myself, am not a very funny person. I'm one of those people that comes up with the witty things to say after the conversation has ended, four hours ago.
But, this doesn't mean I don't talk around them; I do. I just don't talk as much as I normally do. My goal is to not become annoying.
Grant has told me on more than one occasion that none of them really like judging people, which is a huge relief. And truthfully, sometimes it's kind of nice to not have to say anything, you know? Sometimes, the people you're with expect you to talk, and it's nice knowing I don't have to all the time.
They are all really fun people to be around. I won't lie and say they aren't drama queens; they're as dramatic as girls, only they're dramatic about different things than girls are. Like video games. And food. And video games. And movies. And video games. But they're goofy, and happy-go-lucky, and it's easy to relax around them. They're some of the coolest guys I've met in quite awhile.
Alright, I'm done with the mushy stuff. Let's see, what else do I have to explain or complain about to you guys?
1. Hmm, I have more homework in my painting class than in all of my other classes combined.
2. Um, I have laundry that I have to that is piled up as high as my stomach.
3. My psychology professor looks and talks like Leonard Hofstadter from The Big Bang Theory.
4. My history professor is from Louisiana, watches a lot of Eddie Izzard, and is actually making world history interesting. Fun fact: Did you know that the Romans used little ceramic or rock scoops as a form of toilet paper? Gross, right? But here's the funny part: before they would use them, they would carve the names of people they didn't like into the scoops. It's like a Roman's version of a voodoo doll---'Eat my feces, Octavius!'
Okay, moving on:
5. While I was going to go get food in the college's lower cafeteria, a girl stopped me and asked if I had participated in the town's Fiction Slam (it's like a poetry reading, only with short fiction pieces). I said yes, and she proceeded to tell me how much she loved my piece about one of my characters named Lark (I couldn't believed she had remembered his name!) and how it was her favourite one. I was so amazed, I just kept saying 'thank you' over and over again, like a robot. It was so cool!
6. I watched the new Spiderman movie, and I got one word for it: HOLYCRAPTHATWASSOAMAZINGITWASWAYBETTERTHANTHEFIRSTONE!
7. Pinterest ruins homework days.
8. I need to take my trash out.
9. Okay, I'm running out of stuff to talk about, and I have to get back to my homework, so until next time!
You know how people create New Year's resolutions, ones that usually involve some sort of exercise, but then ditch them after about 30 days? I got one of those, and yes, it involves exercise. If you couldn't tell by the title of this post, exercise is something I haven't done in awhile. Since my junior year in high school, in fact, when I was forced to participate in physical activities such as running, jump-roping, weight-lifting, and being pummeled into the floor by a teammate while playing touch football. "I got it, I got it!" BAM! UGH! THUMP! CRACK! <---(the sound of my skull hitting the concrete). -thumbs up- Fun!
Okay, so you can see through my sarcasm at the end there, that I don't like physically demanding activities. And yet, there I was, creeping through the Rec Center at my college, searching for the group that a friend told me was participating in some sort of workout that included boxing--the one sport I enjoy, because you get to punch people in the face, and nobody yells at you for it.
Last week, a little blonde birdie, who is in most of my classes, told me the people I was looking for were in one of the racquetball courts. So there I was, sneaking past the first two courts until I got to the last one, where I proceeded to slowly peek around the corner, trying to remain invisible. Fail. I was immediately seen by one of the guys inside, who stared at me like I was a creeper. So, also like a creeper, after he saw me, I immediately jerked back and hid behind the wall again.
All this time, there were many, many people--mostly track people--swarming around me, looking at me like I could possibly have a bomb strapped to my chest, or I was just some. . . well, creeper, I guess.
Suddenly, one of the guys came out of the court and sat down to stretch. So, I took my chance and asked what was going on in the racquetball room/court thingy. The conversation was very short and ended with him dragging me inside to meet everyone else. By everyone else, I mean the four other people who were in there. All guys. Awkward, eh?
Turns out, they were all pretty cool. Most of them were experienced in some sort of MMA fighting, and there I was with my wimpy boxing skills, but they didn't look at me like I was stupid, so I worked out with them. Mostly, they just wrestled each other, and I did random shadow boxing, and some sit-ups. My workout didn't make a whole lot of sense. Plus, the floor was super hard and I bruised my tailbone. But everybody was cool, and invited me to work out with them on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Why not, right?
Now, I know what you're thinking: one girl + five or six guys (usually just three, sometimes four; the other ones don't come every time) = a rather unnerving situation if they happened to be creepers. Believe me, that ran through my mind the entire time when I first met them. (No offense, guys. You know who you are). But, I quickly learned that majority of them either had girlfriends, or had a crush on some other girls, which diminished the negative chances by 55%. Let me tell you, that alone was a huge relief. But still, they could be creepy, right? But the chances of that were lessened by another 30% after just hanging out and simply talking to them. So, guys, that means there is still a 15% you guys are all creepers, but those are odds I can live with. You are, after all, teaching me moves that I could use against you if the situation arose. -insert Tabari and Barrels' evil laughter here- <---(The names of two of my new friends who enjoy producing sound effects, especially those that sound of alienistic origins...or pterodactyls)
Alright, back to you, all the rest of my fans. This recently passed Thursday, I participated in a workout in which you spent three minutes doing some sort of exercise, such as wall-sits, jump-roping, etc. When the three minutes were up, you'd go do another three-minute exercise, and so on and so forth, until you completed the list of exercises which numbered somewhere in the teens, courtesy of Grant, one of the more insane ones in the group. It's okay, he already admitted it was true.
Now, while the workout was a pain my butt (and my back, my thighs, my calves, my stomach, even my ankles) it was still somewhat fun. Probably because in the minute rest in between stations, somebody would make some crack comments, or do something silly to lighten the atmosphere.
I say that with some nostalgia, for at the moment, it is not fun at all. Why? My thighs and calves hurt so bad that I look like a penguinated zombie when I try to walk down stairs of any type. You even poke me, and it hurts.
But what's really nice is that they often ask me to hang out with them outside of working out, whether it be to play video games (which it usually is) or watching a movie. It makes me happy, but also wary. Happy because it seems that my company is actually enjoyable; wary because, most of the time, these friendships quickly end with people getting annoyed with me.
So I'm trying to balance myself out. This involves me staying fairly quiet when I hang out with them, because, well, for one, I don't have a loud voice, and they do. So even if I did talk a lot, you couldn't really hear me. Curses of being a tiny female. Second, they are all very funny guys. I, myself, am not a very funny person. I'm one of those people that comes up with the witty things to say after the conversation has ended, four hours ago.
But, this doesn't mean I don't talk around them; I do. I just don't talk as much as I normally do. My goal is to not become annoying.
Grant has told me on more than one occasion that none of them really like judging people, which is a huge relief. And truthfully, sometimes it's kind of nice to not have to say anything, you know? Sometimes, the people you're with expect you to talk, and it's nice knowing I don't have to all the time.
They are all really fun people to be around. I won't lie and say they aren't drama queens; they're as dramatic as girls, only they're dramatic about different things than girls are. Like video games. And food. And video games. And movies. And video games. But they're goofy, and happy-go-lucky, and it's easy to relax around them. They're some of the coolest guys I've met in quite awhile.
Alright, I'm done with the mushy stuff. Let's see, what else do I have to explain or complain about to you guys?
1. Hmm, I have more homework in my painting class than in all of my other classes combined.
2. Um, I have laundry that I have to that is piled up as high as my stomach.
3. My psychology professor looks and talks like Leonard Hofstadter from The Big Bang Theory.
4. My history professor is from Louisiana, watches a lot of Eddie Izzard, and is actually making world history interesting. Fun fact: Did you know that the Romans used little ceramic or rock scoops as a form of toilet paper? Gross, right? But here's the funny part: before they would use them, they would carve the names of people they didn't like into the scoops. It's like a Roman's version of a voodoo doll---'Eat my feces, Octavius!'
Okay, moving on:
5. While I was going to go get food in the college's lower cafeteria, a girl stopped me and asked if I had participated in the town's Fiction Slam (it's like a poetry reading, only with short fiction pieces). I said yes, and she proceeded to tell me how much she loved my piece about one of my characters named Lark (I couldn't believed she had remembered his name!) and how it was her favourite one. I was so amazed, I just kept saying 'thank you' over and over again, like a robot. It was so cool!
6. I watched the new Spiderman movie, and I got one word for it: HOLYCRAPTHATWASSOAMAZINGITWASWAYBETTERTHANTHEFIRSTONE!
7. Pinterest ruins homework days.
8. I need to take my trash out.
9. Okay, I'm running out of stuff to talk about, and I have to get back to my homework, so until next time!
This is Maximum Sunshine, signing off. Αντίο και ο Θεός ταχύτητας.
Wednesday, January 9, 2013
Video
Sorry, it's been hectic this past week, coming back to college and all. But, I had an idea I've been kicking around for awhile: along with normal posts, maybe I should do a few video blog/post thingies. I don't want it to be all video blog, but maybe just every once in awhile.
Truth be told, I'm just doing this because I'm lazy. If you hadn't noticed. So, yeah. Tell me what you think.
Toodles,
Max
Truth be told, I'm just doing this because I'm lazy. If you hadn't noticed. So, yeah. Tell me what you think.
Toodles,
Max
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