Longest Day EVER

[[EDIT 2/24, 2:08am
February 24 was shaping up to be a pretty sweet day. Free short stackz. Emo Bowling. Finished my 250 paper. Then I lost my wallet. Somehow, in that short distance between the Undergrad and the parking lot, I dropped my wallet. Fuck my fucking life. Shit all over my peen. WORST EVER.

I tore my room apart, went back to the library and retraced all my steps, all the while cursing myself for dropping it. I started wondering why whoever had picked it up hadn't e-mailed me. After about an hour of panic, I realized that my Illinois.edu e-mail account isn't linked up with my GMail account, which is linked up with my BlackBerry. My life is a MESS. I check my illinois account, and sure enough, I received an e-mail from someone who has picked up my wallet. She says that all my cards are still there, and that they were "scattered in the parking lot". I take this to mean that the $34 I had in the wallet are probably gone. I'm honestly just thankful that she picked up my wallet and that all my cards are still in there. Heavens to freaking Betsy.

I need my days to stop being this eventful.
[[/EDIT

The Pres Day post is coming up as soon as I finish my EALC 250 paper, which should be completed tonight, before Emo Bowling. So there's that. But I needed to take note of this somewhere before old age takes all my memoriez:

The Longest Day Ever

• Speaking of bowling, Rachel Foster thinks the machine that automatically oils the lanes at bowling alleys is called the "slippery maker". LULZ
• Wake up at 12pm on Monday morning. I meant to wake up at 9am. Oh well. Thanks, Nyquil!
  
• Had one class all day. Watched "Better Luck Tomorrow" in it. Uncomfortable.
• Met with my thesis adviser. Before I walked out of her office, she asked me when Ultimate is going to be an Olympic sport. We chatted uncomfortably about how much curling sucks. (For those who don't know, she apparently hell of creeps on me and asked around the department and also her son's college roommate about me, and found out I am on the team. She even found a picture of me online. Holler.)
  
• Bought an air mattress at Target for $11. Suck it, recession. Also, holler.
  
• Worked on my undergraduate research symposium proposal. It perfectly sums up my thesis in less than 300 words. Impressed? What up.
  
• Cooked a steak for dinner. It was delicious.
  
• Did some reading for EALC 250. It was the account of survivors of the Tokyo firebombings during World War II. Horrendous. Glad I already ate because I lost my appetite. No wonder Robert McNamara cried about it.
  
• Went to practice at 8:40pm. Wore a cutoff (obviously). Was excited to see my best friend, Sarah Rosenstinkel. Laughed at a poorly chosen practice outfit for the entirety of the warmup run. My warmup run probably took about 3 minutes total. It probably took Sarah Runningwinkel about 3:15. Boom roasted.
• Did plyos. Baby Amy and I faced each other for the grapevine. It was awkward. She said she hated me. I cried on the inside.
  
• Ten throw went well. Almost got hit in the face by someone else's disc during the long throw portion. Did not actually get hit in the face. Also did not catch the disc I was running after.
• Did a dump drill focusing on denying the upline and sealing the backhand. Mass confusion. Discouraging. (Yikes) Scrimmaged afterwards. Buttsexed the shit out of Rachael Matthews in the endzone on an up the line score. She liked it, and told me so.
  
• The men's B-team arrives and we start packing up our stuff to head over to the Armory. Margaret asks me if I need more "tiss-sues" (as opposed to "tish-shues"). I do a double take and laugh. She continues saying "tiss-sues". I pee myself with laughter. We realize we are the last people in Irwin because we are laughing too hard. We walk over to the Armory and discuss re-doing our failed dump drill.
  
• We are the last people at the Armory. Fozz's car gets towed and she can no longer come to practice. At least it wasn't a burst ovarian cyst. We take all the handlers aside and re-do the dump drill. It takes a long time but it seems as though everyone is catching on. Sitting out of the drills becomes a coveted spot (counterproductive to our aims to everyone learning the dump sets inside-out). Margaret and I tagteam on yet another golden That's What She Said joke. No one else thinks it is funny. C'mon, guys. Axis, however, loses her breff because she is laughing so hard. Holler.
  
• We end practice with abs and pushups. We discuss Emo Bowling and pancakes and just how emo it will be. Sarah makes best friend faces at me from across the circle. Best friends do that sort of thing.
  
• As we walk back to our things, Margaret finds a small paper heart with "BJ?" written on it. Blow job? Yes. I gift this heart to Rachael Matthews, who is a tease and refuses to caress my ailing hind quarters, even after I've offered numerous times in a totally non-lecherous way to use my healing hands on her injured groin. *sigh* She accepts this heart and puts it on her forehead. This means she is down for a beej. Holler. This is, by the by, the same Rachael Matthews who aced her Human Sexuality exam on the vagina. QBJ, what up.
  
• Margaret heads to the library with Austin. I refuse to walk home with Chris Hidaka. He gets to walk home with "everyone", anyway (which in this case means NO ONE! Oh snap! Holler!). I get to walk home with my best friend. Becca, Sarah, and I save the environment by turning down a ride in Cathy's horrible gas-guzzling car. We are so green. I walk my best friend home. She tells me that she has been roofied numerous times. I don't doubt this. We embrace and part ways.
• I go back to my apartment. Take my contacts out. Do not change my clothes. Wash my hands. Grab my shit and head to the Undergrad. I almost slip at least 16 times on the way there. Embarrassing. I catch the bus halfway. Whatevs. I am the only person on the bus. I still pull the cord instead of just telling her where I want to stop. Ockwurd. She is very pleasant. Her name is Kim.
  
• I arrive at UGL. I find Margaret and Austin. They tell me to take a seat at their table. The seat I want to sit in has a jizz stain on it. Well, it could also be a puss stain from when I pussed through my bandages, Ace wrap, shorts, and pants last winter when I lost that portion of my ass. But it looked more like jizz, and it was more in the central part of the chair, so jizz territory. I moved this aforementioned jizz chair and selected a relatively cleaner chair. I discover that approximately 26 people from my high school are also "studying" at UGL. They are not studying. They are loud and obnoxious.
  
• I take my pants off and begin to work. I am very productive. I write one and half pages in less than an hour.
  
• Margaret tells me that Austin is cool because he wears his hat backwards. I say that I will wear my hat backwards to practice on Wednesday. I will most likely not look as cool as Austin, because I look even more like a 12 year old boy when I wear my hat backwards. He then tells me that his brother once played in a hat tournament with jorts on. I say that I will wear jorts to practice on Wednesday. I ignore the fact that he also tells me that his brother cramped up right away. Irrelevant. I would probably cramp up on my own anyway. After thinking about it more for a few minutes, I decide that I cannot wear jorts to practice. The only pair of jorts I own are too tight, and they were also a gift. But perhaps one day.
• I begin to look around the library. I spot a dude who was also at UGL on Sunday night while I was there. He is wearing the exact same "Hook 'Em Horns!" shirt, and he is sitting at the exact same table. I giggle a little imagining that he has not left the library in over 24 hours. Reality kicks in and I realize that he probably has left at some point, just has chosen not to change his clothes. Not as funny.
  
• I eat about half the food I packed with me. I am hell of hungry. Well, I am a little hungry. The fact that I was writing a paper about sushi probably didn't help my hunger situation. It is about 2:30am. We begin looking up places that deliver past 2am.
  
• Margaret and I order a 5 piece chicken strip meal from Geovanti's at 3am. He asked me what my address was. I told him the Undergrad Library. He delivered it to UGL before his promised time. I love Zack. We have each other's numbers now. Maybe we will date before I marry Johnny Rosenwinkel.
• We begin talking about ultimate. This begins to dominate our studies. We are officially sidetracked.
  
• We move from the library to the Espresso Royale because we are not douchebags. We are alone. We take up four different tables. Because we can. We devour our chicken strips. Delicious. We talk about ultimate some more. We discuss how awesome we are. A creepy Asian guy comes in. He leaves later.
• The janitor at UGL walks in and out of the Espresso many times during the course of our time there. He announces "Janitor!" every time he enters the women's bathroom. The one time he does not announce this, there IS a woman in the bathroom. HOLLER.
  
• We begin to seriously "do work". By this, I mean we sit with our books and laptop open, but talk about things some more. We begin throwing short passes to each other in the Espresso at the UGL at 5am. There are dish passes, push passes, and high releases. We appear to be actively trying to get caught. We throw into doors and drop discs. It is thrilling because we might get caught. After ten minutes of throwing (my internal promise time), we hear a noise. I wuss out and run back to my work. We get back to work. But now we can tell people that we have thrown at UGL. At 5am. Holler.
• Sometime before the throwing occurred, some hater ass Asian female walks into the Espresso area. I am talking about something. I notice her gravitating towards my area. Margaret mouths to me that she has mean mugged me hell of hard from behind. I am displeased. Firstly, people are ALWAYS mean mugging me. I don't know why. Secondly, why are so many Asian females such hating ass tricks? Many of them are a bunch of bougie bustdowns anyway. We can fight about it. I will most likely win because I can bench more than the bar WHAT UP.
  
• We attempt to get back to work. Minimal progress is made. I get to the bottom of page 4 of a 5 page paper. Holler. We decide to pack up and head home. However, we cannot remember if the bus comes at 6:47 or 6:57 am. We decide to hope that it is 6:47. We walk by the bus stop and see that the bus will not come for another 14 minutes. Boom toasted. We continue walking home. At first we are sad because it is hell of cold. I mean, "Heavens to Betsy!" cold. But then I realize that we may bump into members of the volleyball team on their way to 7am practice. But then I am disappointed when I realize that they are not the Ultimate Frisbee team and are not typically late to practice. We once saw members of the team walking to 7am practice at Huff from Forbes at 6:20am. Forbes is approximately four minutes away from Huff. We pass the Armory, where we were only hours earlier. We curse the building. We see many squirrels along the way. They are fat and round. We try to befriend them. They refuse. I say "squirrel" funny. This brings "tiss-sue" back to us. I begin to laugh uncontrollably. Margaret continues to say things like "butt-ton", "mitt-ton", and "tiss-sue". I am literally crying. We then begin to laugh about people who are just awkward shapes. I am making sounds I don't think I could recreate if I have gotten sleep. I am laughing, snorting, crying, and trying to speak at the same time. I believe this to be hysteria.
  
• We finally arrive home. I shower for the first time in two days. It feels good. I lay around listening to emo music to prepare for Emo Bowling. I head out the door for class at 9:10. I am hoping to catch the 9:13 bus. I am on time. The couple next to me waiting for the bus is caking extra hard. They are gross. The bus arrives. Lots of buttsexing occurs on the bus. Hell of people are cramming. I can't wait until I can ride my bike again.
  
• Severe and Hazardous Weather class is boring. Amanda Dooley is once again far too excited about class for her own good. We learn about ice storms. She says something about the ice being long but thick. I whisper "That's What She Said". No one laughs. We do an Active Learning Activity. I know it is going to be bad news when I struggle to rip the worksheet out of my book. The worksheet I turned in is missing the entire bottom left corner because I am challenged. My b. I notice that a member of the track team is sitting in front of me. I spend the entire class period admiring her clothing. She is wearing all NikeFit gear. It is sweet, and I don't even like Nike brand shit. I begin to wish that I was a better athlete in high school so I could be a college athlete and get free shit. People begin to pack up their things 20 minutes before class is actually over. Amanda Dooley is too much of a pushover to stop anyone. She ends class twenty minutes early. Holler.
  
• I am asleep for about 97% of HIST 252. My bad. I wake up in time for class to let out. I have to pee hell of bad. In the past nine hours or so, I have drank half a Nalgene of water, one Mr. Pibb, two Pepsi throwbacks, and two Gatorades. Oh Lordy.
  
• I rush to the English Building. I pee for approximately a minute. I spend another five minutes reading all the shit people wrote in the stalls. Holler.
• I head downstairs to the computer lab. In the process, I fall down the stairs. I'm not quite sure what happened. I think the steps were wet or something. I fell down about half the steps. Landed on my back. I was afraid I might be paralyzed. I was not. My back may or may not be broken.
• Writing this post now to stay awake, because if I take a nap now, I will miss my EALC 250 lecture, and everyone knows I wouldn't want to miss that lecture for anything. Listening to Sufjan Stevens on YouTube.
  
• It is now time to head back over to Greg 100 for EALC 250, the crustiest class ever. Jody will most likely stalk me. Oh Lordy.
• Done with this post now. It is 12:51pm. I just needed to get it all down so I wouldn't forget anything that happened during the longest day ever.
  

My life is so exciting. You're more interested in the Pres Day post, I know. It's coming, I swear.
But in truly exciting news: Shammies are here. Heavens. To. Betsy.