You may imagine that I’ve been super busy and didn’t have time to blog. Or, if you know me better, you probably think I was too lazy. No matter who you are in this scenario, you’re probably mostly right. Amazingly, lots has been going on recently. And yet, I’ve still found time to do nothing in the midst of it all. Sometimes I think I might have dual personalities. One that cares and is responsible, and one that is 13 and knows that her parents are looking out for her, protecting her from adulthood.
So, quickly, news flashes since last update, over some month ago.
Mandy got married. Mandy moved to North Carolina with her husband. How are people my age so responsible sounding? People I know are getting married. Husbands, wives. These are titles for people I know. They’re like, committed forever to someone… forever. Married. My little brain can’t even comprehend that. And so… Mandy no longer lives with me. I had to pay the phone and cable bills all by myself. I had to take out the garbage. I had to come home to an empty apartment.
But, I must admit, there are a few good things about living alone. You can have loud sex in every room. I have not done this. You can be really messy and no one will be upset with you. I have also not done this. You can have people over and throw a party without running it by your roommate. Again, not something I’ve done. You can become a nudist and never wear clothing ever again once in the privacy of your very own place. Nope, haven’t done it. Okay, maybe I have, but what’s it to you?
I could be lying. I could have done all of these things. See, there’s no one here to discount my stories. I could become a pathological liar now that I live alone.
It’s been kinda nice having the place to myself. That being said, I can’t afford it here alone and I feel way too responsible all of a sudden. I need someone else here with me. Someone who I can blame for things like the loud sex noises coming from… no, wait, those are the people upstairs. Actually, it’s all about the money. I don’t nearly make enough to afford this place. And so, the roommate search began. It only supported my theory that there are more unintelligent, uneducated, rude people in the world than is necessary. People suck. Especially people looking for roommates because they are 1. Not smart enough to have a job that pays them well enough to afford a place on their own, or 2. Complete idiots with no other excuse for themselves but that they’re complete idiots, or 3. Unsocialized jerks who don’t know how to play nice with others. These are the kids that threw sand at you in the sandbox when you were 4. They haven’t evolved from being 4. Whereas, I… I made it all the way up to 13. And I'm an awesome roommate. I fall into category number 4. Which is what I was looking for in a fellow roommate: awesomeness. Anyway… I eventually found someone to live with. The jury's still out on the awesomeness factor, but I don't have time to look around forever. I hope all goes well because it wasn’t a completely exhaustive search, but I’ll be broke soon without her. Plus, I wanted to deal with the looking for roommate wackos as little as possible. So, she’s moving in tomorrow. Hopefully she’s responsible and laid back enough that we don’t annoy the hell out of each other. We shall see. (I told you I was bringing back shall.) I’m optimistic about her.
Update numero dos:
I finished all my labs. I finished all my papers. I finished all my classes. I passed my comp exams. I finished two of my three finals. I have one more exam to go until I’m officially getting my Master’s of Forensic Science. And then you shall (see?) refer to me as Master.
Okay, you don’t have to. But really, I should be getting something out of these 2 years of education and $37,000 in loans. You know, other than all the knowledge and some letters at the end of my name. Although I could just start using them in everything I do. Like email. For example:
What’s going on Friday? I hear there’s a celebration in honor of my graduation. Tell me where and when - and wouldn’t it be cool if someone provided me with transportation so I could drink heavily and kill off the brain cells that have actually accomplished something in the past 2 years? Cool. Thanks.
See how fun that is?
Fiiiiiine, I won’t do it. But don’t expect me to be excited for you to put letters after your name, either.
I made a résumé. I’m not sure how impressive it really is, or if it really tells anybody anything exciting about what I know. Or if what I know is actually exciting. And it’s not like I have real experience. But, like, someone should hire me to do something because just about everything in the forensic science field is completely backlogged. And I could help with that.
Plus, my résumé says Secret Service on it. That sounds cool. And it says George Washington University. Which, everyone tells me has the best forensic science program around. I don’t believe that, but I’d like to continue the rumor so everyone thinks I’m incredibly smart for having such a pretty GPA from such an awesome institution.
So, I'm starting to apply for a real full-time, non-contract job.
Hire me. I’m like, only years away from becoming an actual adult.
Hire me. I’ll move from DC. I never wanted to spend my whole life here anyway. I’m like 80% positive I’m not really a big city girl. Maybe a medium city. With not a lot of traffic. Top 4 worst traffic areas in the US: Los Angles, San Francisco, DC, and Atlanta. Who knew Atlanta would make that list? Okay, trivia session over.
As is this blog entry.
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