Hey l'Halloween

If I ever come upon someone who hasn't noticed me, I take great care not to startle him/her. I may jingle my keys or back out and enter the room again, louder this time. No sudden movements.
I learned my lesson my first year of college when I stealthily and creepily crawled up to Maren (my roommate) as she got into bed. She squealed in terror and I laughed heartily. But she promised that she would get me back. I wouldn't know when or where, but it would happen with a vengeance. That whole year, I'd peak around corners, enter rooms cautiously, and jump at any small sound. My quality of living plummeted.
To this day, I live in fear of retribution. Now, she's probably forgotten the whole thing, but maybe she hasn't. Maybe she's in my house right now...
Nobody startle me, ok? I can't take it.

Burning Hair = Displeased Samie

It turns out it's not such a good idea to try to flat iron your fake hair extension.. It really brought back the traumatic memories of burning my actual hair.. There I was, innocently molding a man out of some play dough and exhorting information from him at birthday-candle-point, and as I lean over the lighted candle, my hair drapes over it...wow. I've never smelt such a smell nor done such a silly panic-dance. Panic at the disco was wrong; it's not time to dance. And, umm, admittedly this happened like two years ago...

Also, I want you to say this out loud. Go on, do it: Post-apocalyptic Pocahontas.
She's out for your blood along with the soul of the world. You shouldn't have made fun of her for thinking corn was gold.

Obama luuuvs his root beer

Getting a tax return is like
Christmas 2: The New Flat Screen


Also, I had the weirdest dream last night that Obama came over to my apartment to hang out (naturally he would want to) and I really wanted to go to the bike shop, but he ate a whole root beer bottle...like the whole glass bottle...so I had to do the Heimlich...and then the paparazzi took many pictures...Hmmm...political metaphor?

Misnomer

Real Names I'm Glad I Don't Have:

Johnny Barfuss
Billy Butts
Misty Balls (from FCHD department; no, really)
Nancy Anne Siancy
Misty Oceanspray
Joseph Stalin


So, while there may be 100,000 "Samantha Nelson"s, it could be worse. Samie Barfuss wouldn't get me any further.

*Sorry if you're reading this and you find your name on the list.

Oh Kiddles

Last week in primary, Chris taught the lesson about David and Goliath. He gave a scenario of your little brother stealing your toy from you and asked the kids, "What would be a David-like reaction to that?" One of them said, "Throw a rock at this head."

We had to give him a point cuz, come on, that's funny, even in church.

Crazy Things I Jot Down in Mid-Sleep

Here's another one I found in my notebook the next morning:
"In a way, the unintelligent, uncreative types are the luckiest, most sane of us all, lucky blokes."

This one isn't so crazy. All the amazing poets, artists, musicians, etc, were basically all stark mad...I guess you have to go crazy to be really good at something. Also, I'm noticing that the more education I get, the crazier I go...your brain starts thinking harder and harder and ideas branch off into infinitely more ideas and won't stop..Ignorance really, really is bliss as it turns out..Worth it?

Also, I need some ideas of how to make money...apparently a Master's degree isn't enough..

And here's another picture I took at Mill Hollow..Yay!

Sigh, don't read this either

Ok, ok, I know I shouldn't do it. And I know no one wants to hear another gripe, but I'm going to get this off my chest. And then maybe I can move on and leave this atrocity behind me. I'll keep it brief (HA), though it could go on for 34 pages. I'll also try to spice it up in poem format.

USU is dumb
Like, REALLY dumb.
They have dumb student teachers (excluding myself, wink) who don't know the material and tell you wrong things
And then, although this statistics class has been a relative breeze compared to other grad classes, I suppose still a lot of work,
Dumb people don't realize that the take home final they've given you will take LITERALLY ALL DAY.
I know no one cares,
and I know some people have worse stories,
but let me just say that I got to class at 9 am,
class ended at 10:30,
and I spent til until about 8 PM finishing this take home test, nonstop minus a 45 minute lunch break.
Here's the thing though.
It wasn't your normal, run of the mill, work-all-day.
No, no. This was statistics at its most foul.
Hey, if anything, I've fairly enjoyed the rest of the class,
but when I have to compile hundreds of data entries,
pick the most appropriate analysis,
whether it be a repeated measures mixed design analysis of variance or just regular ol' linear regression analysis,
know what that analysis means,
provide 24 pages of output from a statistical program,
interpret just about every single number from the table,
know what those mean and how they relate to each other,
then write about 10 pages single spaced interpreting that data in APA format,
and do several more analyses in klunky Excel,
I get a little....agitated..
Here's a lovely example from one line:
"The interaction effects of time and word type were not statistically significant, F(1,33)=53.523, p<.001, partial eta squared=.619, a medium effect size."
That went on for 10 pages aaaaaaa!!
And the worst part?
THIS IS THE CRAP I DO ALL DAY, ALL THE TIME IN THIS FORSAKEN GRADUATE PROGRAM!!!
I can't even describe my internal agony at my awful plight...mmm...slightly dramatic.

No worries. I'm going to calm down. And then forget this nonsense.
And I know, you may be thinking, "Oh wa, wa, wa, call the wambulence. Suck it up, I've had worse."
And that's true. I'm going to stop complaining in just a sec.

Just let me know if you'd be interested to see the bulk of my work files, ok?!
That's the funny thing, can you think of any psychopath who actually WOULD be interested?
How about all the professors at school...
Sickos.

Next post will be positive to counterbalance.