The big long boring Cornell post that no one will read... I know I wouldn't...

Just a quick skimming of everything that's been done so far: moved in, unpacked, said goodbye to parents (no one cried... because we're the most heartless family that you'll ever meet), went to some orientation crap that was awkward and more pathetic than useful, got schedule, got books, just finished the first two days of class...

And that's pretty much all. I'll probably take a journey to Target later today, but no one really cares about that kind of shit. Lately, I've been analyzing the blogs (and by "blog" I mean any online journal) that I enjoy reading, and those that I find self-centered and pompous. It's strange how two people can both write lengthy posts entirely about themselves, and, depending on the way they write it, I either enjoy reading it all or stop after the first paragraph... hmm... odd... more on this later...

I'd like to say that Cornell is perfect and everything is fine and I can't wait to spend the next four years of my life here... but that's really not true. The truth is that I'm bored and lonely. More lonely than bored, actually. It seems like all the people on my hall are either reclusive or a potential sorority girl. I haven't talked to a lot of guys... they're at the other end of the hall and the "gender barrier" has yet to be broken.

It's not that people aren't nice here, it's just that you have a conversation with someone in the dining hall and then never see them again. In my desperation last night, I went out with a couple of people to see "Snakes on a Plane". It could have been fun, but I had a headache the entire time and the person I went with had one of those laughs that hits just the right pitch to make your ears bleed and the whole situation was just... awkward. And tacky. Everyone seems so fake at this point.

Whatever. That's my offical session of moping for the week. No more!

"Snakes on a Plane" was... disgustingly fabulous in a crude, "oh my god, why the hell did I pay 8 dollars for this?" kind of way. It was almost like the writers say down and said the themselves, "How many ways can we have a snake bite a person?". Then they took the fruits of their brainstorming session, multiplied them by a gross out factor of 12, and put it in the script. Not to spoil the movie or anything... which I totally will in a few seconds... but throughout the entire thing, at least one person gets bitten in the eyeball, neck, tongue, boob, ass, and (my personal favorite) the penis. My advice is to wait until it comes out on DVD and watch it with a large group of sleep-deprived, junk food-filled friends. Which will totally be happening as soon as I get back to Texas.

That's all. It was boring, I know. Don't blame me, I warned yo' ass in the title.

"Love, the kind you clean up with the mop and bucket..."

It's amazing what strange things come up on your iPod when you set it to shuffle and just let it play. And how strangely appropriate they always seem to be.

Finally made it to Cornell (despite my certainty that I was going to die in some horrible, dramatic, fiery inferno before I got here). Moved into the dorm. Exchanged awkward conversings with some of my floormates... or whatever the hell they call them. Had at least a dozen things go wrong in my room (including not being able to get the internet) before I finally gave up on any kind of productivity. So now I'm in the dorm's computer lab... typing on my blog... on an unnaturally soft kepyboard. *ponders*... *moves in for a closer look*...*rubs face on keyboard*... *contracts Chlamydia*... *dies*. Actually, I don't think you can die from Chlmydia. That's the beauty of the STD; you're just stuck with uncomfortable itch and a killer burning sensation for the rest of your life. Your long long itchy life.

I could type about my thoughts and feelings, or even my last few days in Lake Jackson, but I just don't feel like it right now. In fact, I feel very unsafe... in this remote little room at midnight with no surveillance or supervision. Like a den of rape. I should get some mace.

Just know this, my friends: the dorm is lovely, Ithaca is very lovely, and life seems to be OK for now. Which, now that I think about it, isn't really interesting... or informing. *shrug*... don't judge me.

... pictures will come soon.

"They're called 'Death Moths' because they eventually die."

I don't know why that is so funny right now. Probably because I'm high... on life! Bwahaha! But seriously, folks, marijuana is a drug to be taken just as seriously as crystal meth or the crack/cocaine. Be like Nancy and just say "no".

So... the National Geographic Channel has been having a "Dog Whisperer" marathon for the past week and, consequently, I haven't really done anything productive in the past week. Man, I love that show. It gives me the urge to interact with dogs... so if I randomly call you up during the week, begging to walk your dog, do not be alarmed. I'm just a loser and should be approached in a calm and assertive manner. Shh!!...... Shhhh!!!!!... ok, I'm done.

And then I went and met Oskar's family! Actually, I met them the night of graduation when they all hugged me and pretended to like me even though I was just that crazy white girl who occassional drove by the house, picked up Oskar, and whisked him away to mysterious and unknown places. But now! I've been promoted to that crazy white girl who occasionally comes in the house and doesn't talk to anyone because she's too busy shitting her pants with anxiety. *Victorious fist pump*. Movin' up, baby.

I think I love his family more than my own. Which is sad, and probably unhealthy.

I don't know... I just don't know.

Maybe I'll blog... just maybe...

Not!!! Hahaha... suckers.