Wow I have blog-stalkers who are willing to remain in the woodwork. All I can identify is that when I said "Chimpangutan" in everyday conversation, my blog-stalking-friend said "You are the chimpangutan." Wow, what a memory. Now if I could use the same ingenuity to remember information from that crazy Neuro class I'd be set for life.
Though I don't know if I really like being "the chimpangutan." But does it really matter now? You can't change who you are. And if you are a person with a tendency to be strange and to invoke the ridicule of others from time to time, can you NOT be a chimpangutan?
As for Valentine's Day. Some people hate it. Some people fear being alone for it. Well, being without a Valentine doesn't change things much since it's been my status for 22 out of my 24 years of life. But I know that people love me.
If nothing else, Valentine's Day has given me one funny story, which would not have happened, had I a Valentine that year. Back when I was a sophomore in college, I was the only one of my 6 roommates to have not "heard" the 7th roommate with her boyfriend. I took pride in that and was quite relieved in fact, though I was curious about how disturbing the sounds could possibly be. So on valentine's day, after dinnertime, around 8pm, I was making valentines in my room to give to my roommates. I felt rather cheerful. I took my Valentines in a hop, skip, and a jump to my roommates' room and then skipped down the hallway to distribute the rest when I heard a most horrendous, disturbing, and subtle noise of heavy breathing. My eyes widened in a flash and I bolted for my room. God how scary. I learned later that my other roommate had been hiding inside her bedroom with music playing loudly in order to avoid the auditory spectacle.
Maybe that wasn't such a good thing to happen on a Valentine's Day.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment