Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Procrastinate Like There's No Tomorrow, Literally.

     I procrastinate so much that it landed me in supplemental housing this freshman year at Penn State. I procrastinate so much that I’m writing this blog instead of writing my seven page research paper due Thursday. I procrastinate so much that I do not even know how I am going to get back to school prior to the last day of spring break. But that’s okay. Because without procrastination, my life would not be half as interested, near as suspenseful, and one fourth as successful.
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     All that nonsense about doing your best work not the night before is all hoopla. We need a little worry and anxiety in our lives or the ending result of the majority of our endeavors would not be as influential. I love my ability to hand in a piece of work two hours after I complete it and still manage to receive an A grade. It just makes those previous hours even sweeter. And the sigh of relief after releasing that paper from the clammy hands of procrastination is way more effective than if it were to be after four days of typing/putting off, typing/putting off, and typing/putting off.
     Being a procrastinator should be listed on your resume, applications, and eHarmony profile. People should embrace this trait because it adds a little more spice to a relationship or work ethic. Things will and always do get done, but the fact that I’ll keep you on your toes is more desirable than the dull fellow next to me who hands his paper in the week before it’s due. Sure you look organized and studious and all that crap, but to me you just look like a donkey’s backside for attempting to make me look ill prepared. Real cool guy, real cool.
     So don’t despise your inability to do assignments on time. Praise it because it’s stimulating, exhilarating, and awe-inspiring. Words from the procrastinator herself.

Thursday, February 23, 2012

You Are Not A Good Person


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     We are all selfish people. No you are not any different. Sometimes I think that I have some sort of good in me, but once I analyze it, just like if I were to analyze all of your intentions, they really are solely for the good of me in the long run. It may be minutely to please or help an individual at that time, but eventually, the act or thought was selfish.
     When you get up for an elderly person on the bus in order for them to have a seat in close proximity to the door. When you hold the door open behind you for the person trailing three steps in the distance.  When you loan your friend a dollar at McDonald’s because they forgot their wallet. All these things may seem selfless, but under the microscope you only do them because you don’t want the repercussions of others whispering about you behind your back calling you a jerk for not being a good Samaritan.
     I came to college for myself. I plan to graduate and obtain a decent paying job for myself. I work for myself. I drink this cherry Pepsi because I want to. I may do things that seem unselfish, such as dream to buy my mother a mansion at wherever beach her little heart desires, but the amount of unselfish things that I do in my life cannot even begin to add up to this purchase.
     Even those who appear to be the most considerate people are subconsciously performing these acts because of the way it makes them feel inside and how they will be remembered and thought of as to their peers. I’m not suggesting we are all internally evil, but we are most certainly not saints. I guess we just aren’t as noble as our obituaries make us out to be. 

Thursday, February 9, 2012

How To Become Wise

     Less is more. What a bewildering statement. How can you ever understand what exactly this means if you have never experienced a situation where less is actually more? More times than not we will see that more is completely and utterly better than less. More money, more clothes, more twitter followers, more opportunities in life, more chicken tenders at lunch, and most certainly more beer on thirsty Thursdays. The only occasion where less sparks enthusiasm is when your professor assigns less homework.
     Reading the fortune containing “a wise person cares not for what he cannot have but for what he can” I had a revelation. The only reason why more is so vital in our modern society is because we are not taught that you need more, but we are taught that you must strive for more. We need to want to have more to have a fulfilling life. We don’t necessarily need to have all that others have, but we have to have goals and dreams that we can achieve the more.
      The “wise person” is not worried about the riches his neighbor posses. He is more concerned with the riches he can obtain by hard work. Sure the neighbors are motivation. But the individual who wants for him and his loved ones, not for the approval of others is more influential and eventually content with his life than the neighbor who finds it essential to purchase a new 60 inch television for every room in his home.
     Regardless of class position, needing to want keeps people moving. The need of a mother to want her child to have the best educational pathway is crucial, both for the child and for the good of our society. Being “wise” is a hard concept to grasp. Maybe we should all just need to want to be wise, and then our wisdom will be handed to us without us knowing. More is always better, as long as it’s for the right reason.

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

The Lion Over the Tin Man

     If I was Dorothy I would be more interested in the Lion than the Tin Man. And I guarantee you that every other girl and boy alike out here would feel the same. The classic love story always involves a brave hero rescuing a not-so-brave (pathetic) beautiful girl. Nowadays, that love story barely holds true, and what the fortune cookies tell you about love coming if you wait, to just stop searching, is almost certainly not true. I’m not saying searching is the way to go, but passively sitting around for your soul mate is a sure fire way to land you as your typical cat lady occupying herself by watching reruns of Grey’s Anatomy.
     I am currently employed at Kildare’s Irish Pub in downtown State College, and it’s much more than a way to make an income.  I wouldn’t so much as say this waitress job is honest. I mean I’m not doing anything illegal, but to have a successful dinner shift, I have to wear a short kilt and flirt like no tomorrow to obtain at least 100 dollars a night. Granite, my wallet never hurts, but sometimes my feet, homework, and sleep schedule take the fall for my four to five day a week work program.
     However, working at Kildare’s has given me insight into the warped young adult mind of a college male. For some reason, these guys who come in for wing night think every waitress there is blessed for being able to witness them in obnoxious action with their identical obnoxious “buddies” while they chug down three dollar blue moon after blue moon. Then after they repulsively chow down a five dollar delux burger, they insist on asking for separate checks for the 13 of them, and then, in return, hand me a tip of one dollar and proceed to wink in my direction.
     Now here is where the courage part comes in. More times than my stressed out head can take, I’ve been left (as they would think) witty and cute comments on the receipt with not only a scribbled heart, but also their phone numbers. They leave in a hurry before I open up the check books so that they aren’t present for the irritated and disgusted look upon my face.
     No I don’t want your number. Want to know why I don’t want your number? Because you did not walk up to me, like the transformed lion at the end of Wizard of Oz and hand it to me respectfully. It’s not cute that you’re shy. It’s pitiful that you can’t be daring enough to pull your guts out of your beer belly to ask me for my number instead of shamefully writing it on your receipt. Also, I’ve been working for eight hours dealing with degenerates like you, and you expect me to take you seriously and “call me boo.” No.
     See the fortune cookies don’t tell you the reaction people get from you being passive and “sweet.” Mainly because the reaction is to mock you with the rest of my coworkers and then put your number inside my apron with the rest of them. My Mary Poppins apron is stuffed with napkin numbers, coupon numbers, and the inevitable receipt numbers that I have never once even thought about dialing. Hey boys, for future reference, courage is more vital then silent chivalry. I’m not counting on you to be sweet, I really just want you to grow a pair.