Bla.

Grr! Blogger is being STUPID! RAH!!

That is all.

Fuck sororites.

So, my first source assignment is to write an article about open rush. Which sucks. It would have been the very last thing I would have picked. Very last. I would rather write about rabid tree sloths. On crack. (And it could be either me or the sloths on crack. It doesn't matter which.)

So, I went to club night to talk to the sororites. Where they were not too bad, a bit annoying and I had to be social and I was generally pissy. But pretentious boy (some guy on the editorial staff) had to break in and give me advise on who else to talk to while I was in the middle of a conversation. I was a touch pissed. I mean how rude is that? The fucker. Plus, even though I hate that class with a flaming passion, I was still out doing the fucking thing the first night that I had it. So anyone who has anything negative to say about my work ethic can spin on it counterclockwise and sideways.

Then, I went home, hung out for a while, then went to bed. Then, in the middle of the fucking night, the lambda's invaded our house and came into my room. I woke up while they were outside my room, and then they opened my door. I sat up and screamed at them to get out. I didn't really know what I was doing, I was still mostly asleep. If they had come in any farther, I think I would have jumped up and attacked them. Luckily, they ran away. Stupid bitches. I couldn't get back to sleep for over an hour. And I had grammer this morning. I was pissed.

Well, I must go watch my swimmer. (Dr. Thomas)

It's January.

So, I haven't posted in over a month, but I'm pretty sure the only one who noticed was Jillian. Not much is really new. I have to go to bed earlier this semester because I have grammer at 8 am on M-W-F. After grammer, Adam and I have been going to work out, which is fun. I'm running a Dragonlance D&D game. I have to do lots and lots of writing this semester, with both novel writing and capstone to write for.

Also on the newspaper staff, which sucks. At least I'm the photographer, so I get to take pictures and only write one story every two weeks instead of one every week. My first story is about open rushes. Which is the last possible story idea I would have chosen. Could I care any less about open rush??? FUCK NO! Ugh. And I have to go to the fricking club night tonight and take pictures. I will probably stop at the sorority tables and talk to them about it. Which I really don't want to do. I don't like talking to people. Grrr.