A little more mwahaha if you don't mind

I was watching Heroes the other day and I came to an interesting realization. I am captivated by villians. I can't get enough of them. Yeah, it's strange. Don't get me wrong, I like Luke Skywalker as much as the next person. And I definately don't like the real-life villians that go around like... eating babies. There's just something about being so incredibly evil and yet not caring that intrigues me. I would feel guilty. Guilty and all... dirty. If you killed half the people that Ben from Lost killed, you can't help but feel the need to take a shower. It's this lack of conscience that fascinates me. I just can't fathom living with myself after force choking someone. That and sometimes the villians are hot. Minus the caterpillar eyebrows, Syler is yummy. I'm just saying. The fact that all villians have that little bit of goodness in them that could alter their actions at any minute, well... that's just good television. The best villians are the ones that you aren't sure whether or not they're actually villians. They do horrid things, but then turn around and do something good. It confuses you and always keeps you guessing which is why villians are so much better characters than heroes. Unless the hero feel compelled to kick shins once in a while. Perhaps it's because I'm oh-so-predictable. Maybe it's because I'm determined to be good. Whatever it is, I heart them villians. I heart them much.

Socially Stunted. Squared.

I went to Greeley today. I wasn't entirely sure why at first. Because of boredom possibly? I mean, it's Greeley. It's boring. It smells like cow. But once I got back up here, I realized that my social life now is pretty non-existant. I know that graduating college is a huge reason for that. Being an adult sucks. You pretty much have to kill yourself working just to exist... where's the time to hang out? It's not fair that in college you have people around you all the time to hang out with and then once you move, boom. No people. Unless you're one of those 20-somethings that refuse to grow up and spend your weekends passed out on the couch of your old frat buddy. Then there's plenty of friends. Friends that want your free beer. But for the rest of us, life seems to go from crazy fun-ness to a big huge smack of reality in your face. Sure, you'll have the occasional friend want to go out dancing or out to dinner once a week if you're lucky, but it's nothing like college used to be and I freaking miss it. I miss movie night where we used to cram more people into our little basement apartment than we had couches for. I miss going to karate (soooo much!) and yes, I even miss TK. Not so much the stupid work and the cleaning up after piggish freshmen who don't know how to put ranch on their salad without spilling it all over the counter, but the people. TK is where I met most of my friends and even though the work was tedious and annoying sometimes, it was still fun. Admit it TK workers, it was fun. It's ridiculous how fast college went by now that I think about it. But then again, when I was actually in classes, the days just dragged on. I miss it so much. I feel like such a boring, anti-social adult now! What happened in that transition between college and career? It's cruel! Sometimes I wake up in the morning and go "Where's my dorm room? Where's the frisbee golf course? What happened to that 4 and a half years of my life I just ran through?! Take me back!" Damn responsibility. Stupid job. Just give me back my textbooks and dining hall.

Ninjas. On my snowboard.

Today it feels as if I was attacked by ninjas in my sleep last night. I went snowboarding yesterday and let me tell you... I suck. Despite this glaring fact, I still go because I love the experience. It was a clear, cloudless day... absolutely perfect snowboarding weather. No wind. Just the mountain and the sky. When you're 13 some-odd thousand feet up in the air, you begin to wonder who first had the crazy idea of going 40 miles an hour down a mountain on nothing but a plank of wood. Crazy bastard. And yet, there I was- rocking gently on a rather high ski-lift that seemed to be carrying me to the freaking summit. Up that high, the sky takes on a whole new quality of blue. It's undescribable. I felt as if I squinted hard enough, I would be able to make the faint outline of stars. It's that high. It's that blue. My awe of God's creation was brought to an abrupt stop however, when I came to the end of the lift. Curse you ski lift! How anyone can get off of the lift without falling on their ass is beyond me. It's going so fast when I dismount that I feel like I should tuck and roll. Instead I just flail and fall. Which is pretty much how the day went. Luckily, I was with a very understanding friend who would ski off a little ways and glance back just in time to see me (once again) on my butt in the snow. He didn't get impatient with me and my apologies were always followed by a "you're fine". By the time I was getting used to the board again, I was so sore that I could barely stand and kept falling only because I was so tired. Sigh. This trip just made me inescapably aware that although I do many things (like paintball and golf), I'm not especially good at any of them. Oh well. At least I do stuff. Even if I suck. Even if I feel like I've been ran through a meat tenderizer.

Vertically Challenged My Ass

In kindergarten I couldn't reach the light switches in my house. I'll now take the following moment to let you laugh until that Mountain Dew you're drinking leaks out of your nose....

Yeah. That's right. You tall people don't even know. I don't mind being a meager 4'11'' now, but my God... I did in childhood. You remember when they used to force you to take class photos? They'd shuffle everyone outside in your (freakin sweet) light-up shoes onto make-shift bleachers outside. Then they would order everyone tallest to shortest. No big deal- unless you're always (and I mean ALWAYS) the shortest. Perpetually stuck in every class photo on the bottom right-hand corner, I began to feel as if the business of tallest-to-shortest was more of some sadistic value system. The tallest being the coolest (hence on the top bleacher!) and the shortest being well... the runt of the litter and decidedly, un-cool. Junior high brought on more than one smart-ass kid that would regularly play keep away or, even better, take my homework and put it on top of the lockers. They knew that the only way I was gonna get up there was a ladder and a pair of platform shoes. Good times.

Now, I think I might have a bit of a complex... but I'm willing to accept that. I over-compensate by lifting weights (which honestly confuses me because that's what a short MAN would do but whatever) and by being a rather loud individual. Hey, you gotta raise your voice when you want to be heard from all the way down here. All in all, being short isn't as bad as you normals think. I mean, I never have to worry about being taller than my boyfriend, I wont develop bad knees or back due to my current altitude, and I almost never hit my head on anything. So yeah, laugh it up you over-sized-head-bumping-have-to-bend-to-kiss-your-significant-other-freaks. You're just jealous.

What if they find out I can only teach math up to 3rd grade?

I've finally become a substitute teacher! I'm so freaking excited. I mean... considering the fact that I started the application process in July of LAST YEAR, it's about time. Here's the thing though, I'm not sure if teaching is my thing. I'm pretty sure that it's just because I'm scared to death that I'll get eaten alive. I taught a first grade class the other day and it went just fine. Mostly. But then I tell myself that, yeah, of course it went fine... it's first grade. What am I going to do when I get called in and I have to teach middle-schoolers?? It's a scary thought. I have to keep reminding myself that this is what I've wanted to do for a while. Before I changed my major in college, I wanted to be a high-school teacher. This could be a way of getting into that. I'm not a tyrant by any means and I'm so bad at discipline! I'm just going to have to learn how to be harsh when I need to be or these kids are just going to treat me as a joke. I want to be the "cool" substitute that is fun, but I'm just not seeing how to do that and maintain control you know? I just hope that as time goes on, I'll begin to like substitute teaching and not get a freakin anxiety attack everytime I get that phone call.