humor

Manic Mondays: Jingle-Belling on a Budget

So the cat’s out of the bag: I can’t afford to buy any of you Christmas presents.

Which sucks because I actually thoroughly enjoying giving presents. There was a time in my life (probably when I was 16 and recieveng my first ever paychecks) that I gave gifts to everyone that had ever looked at me. My second grade teacher? Here’s an Old Navy fleece! Everyone in my eighth grade class? Here’s a mug filled with cookies and chocolates.

And, to be honest, I’d like to think that I’m a pretty good gift-giver. I usually know what people will really love, instead of being that girl who gives her sister fuzzy socks that were on sale at Target.

But, as I continue my life as a struggling college student who hates working more than 12 hours a week, my funds have naturally diminished. And I’m left here wondering if (despite all my efforts to avoid them) I’ll be wrapping fuzzy socks in my near future.

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Manic Mondays: It’s the Most Wond- Stressful Time of the Year

The worst week of the year has arrived: finals week.

With one week left of classes this semester, it’s hard not to be stressed out. Everything you’ve put off for four months comes creeping up on you and there’s no time left to avoid your annoying obligations.

To make matters worse, everyone just had a relaxing break for Thanksgiving. The break was full of mashed potatoes and Cabernet Sauvignon and corny holiday movies, and it was nothing less than perfect. And obviously there was no time to do any of the work that you know is due in a week.

But, now it’s back to reality. And it sucks. After being pampered like a princess for a week, I’m now back to my poverty-stricken, struggling college girl life at school with a stack of assignments that need to be competed in a 10 day period.

I really shouldn’t complain. I never have too overwhelming of a finals week. I can’t even imagine what it would be like to be a biology or pre-med student. I would’ve probably put myself into a Nyquil-induced coma a long time ago to be honest.

As a communications major, I’m mostly assigned final papers, which I suppose aren’t as nerve-wrecking as a monstrous, cumulative exam. However, they’re usually more time consuming which is arguably more annoying.

What’s also really crappy about this time of year is that all you want to do is online shop, and bake brownies, and watch Elf with your roommates. The absolute last thing you want to do is sit under the fluorescent lights of the library until 2 a.m. trying to write the seven page research paper you were assigned in September (not that I’m doing that, if you’re reading this Prof. K…).

Image from college.wfu.edu

Image from college.wfu.edu

In addition to finals, it’s time to start worrying about other responsibilities like applying for internships, applying for graduate school, applying for jobs. Literally no one wants to do that right now. I promise you. No one.

So, for the next week, instead of sipping hot chocolate and watching the 25 Days of Christmas on ABC family, I’ll be typing away in my bed with my eyes bleeding from looking at my MacBook screen. That’s the holiday spirit, right?!

There’s No Place Like Home (How Corny)

I attend a college with a very unique culture. For those of you who have never heard of St. Bonaventure University (which is probably most of you), it is a small, private Franciscan university in the middle of absolutely no where.

There’s nothing to do, the weather is terrible, and you see the same people on campus every day.

So why is everyone obsessed with it?

I’m not sure. But, I’m no exception. I adore my school. It’s kind of like a cult to everyone who is a part of it. It even has a name: “The Bona Bubble.”

As a result of this cult-like obsession, most Bonnies dread leaving campus. And I don’t mean graduating. I mean, like for week-long breaks. Students actually hate traveling back home for the winter and suffer from Bonaventure withdrawal.

I suppose I am an exception to this norm, though. As much as I love my school, nothing will ever compare to being home. I wouldn’t say I’m a homebody, but I will definitely never pass up an opportunity to lay in my own bed with my cat, eat entire bags of Cheetos on my couch, and have my baskets of dirty clothes magically cleaned by the laundry fairy (thanks Mom).

Everyone at school says this feeling starts to fade as you become more and more attached to Bona’s. I still haven’t experienced that.

On Monday I traveled home for Thanksgiving, and I was just as excited as I’ve always been to be homeward bound. Upon entering my house, I promptly ate a bag of Doritos, a bowl of Reese’s Puffs and a Krispy Kreme doughnut. If I were at school I would’ve been scrounging for leftover Easy Mac scraps. Honestly, what isn’t to love about being home?

I think my love for home has a lot to do with my forever friends, too. I’ve had the same group of girl friends since the beginning of high school, and no matter how many wonderful people I meet in high school, nothing will ever replace my original friendships. A lot of people go home on breaks and sit in bed watching Netflix for 12 hours at a time, but I get to run around my hometown eating 40 cent wings at our local bar on Monday, have a wine night with the girls on Tuesday, go out on the town Wednesday, etc. (although, seriously, there is nothing wrong with a good Netflix binge).

Regardless of all that, though, it’s a wonderful time to be home with family. Thanksgiving is one of my favorite holidays and no, not just because of the food. I love the energy that comes along with Thanksgiving. The though of sleeping in Thursday morning, watching that stupid parade with my Mom, making more appetizers than I’ll ever be able to eat, and laughing for the rest of the day with the most important people… how can you not smile at that?

So, as much as I love being young and wild and free at college, I’ll always love the comfort of home even more. And I encourage everyone to appreciate that comfort this week, too.

I guess it goes without saying that my stress levels are at an all-time minimum right now. But, never fear, as soon as I get back to school there’s only one week until finals. Nothing puts a damper on the holiday season like that realization. Buzzkill.

Anyway, Happy (early) Thanksgiving 🙂

Image from thepointsguy.com

Image from thepointsguy.com

7 Reasons Taylor Swift Needs To Just Not

Is anyone else completely and utterly sick of Taylor Swift?

I know I gave her a shout-out in one of my earlier blog posts, but that was more me making fun of her for writing songs about her ex-boyfriends than actually giving her any sort of positive recognition.

I haven’t always been a hater, either. I used to really like her. Until she started trying too hard. No one likes a try-hard.

Everything this girl does gives me anxiety and makes me want to pull my hair out. Her creepiness at the AMA’s really set me off. So, my hate list:

  1. Your weird comb-over haircut. Please stop being trendy because you switch your style every week. Yes, Lady Gaga is completely crazy but at least she sticks to it and is genuine.
  2. Your personality changes as much as your style. All right, so you like to change your hair and your clothes. That’s one thing. But your multiple personalities disorder has got to go. Are you the innocent, sweet, heart-broken victim? Or are you the girl-power, don’t-need-no-man vixen? Who knows. It’s creepy, Tay.
  3. Your dance moves. Honestly, do I need to say more? You look like an uncomfortable snake trying to shed it’s skin and it’s making everyone else’s skin crawl, too.
  4. You pulled your music from Spotify. And claimed that your music was “rare, valuable art that should be paid for.” And made a huge deal about it. In theory, yes I understand why you did this and yes, I appreciate music as an art form. However, a) you do get paid a royalty when your music is played on Spotify, b) you have enough money, sweetheart, I promise, and c) if I can listen to other musical geniuses on Spotify, what makes you so special?
  5. You don’t want to be associated with country music anymore. I just find this a little unappreciative. Without country, you wouldn’t even be in the business. And your country songs were far better than any of your teen-pop jamz. But, that’s just one girl’s opinion.
  6. In an effort to steer clear of your country roots, you say things like “sick beat” and “hella.” Don’t do that.
  7. And above all else, you’re not Beyonce. And you never will be. That’s not really in your control but I will hold it against you nonetheless. Bow down to the queen, T-swift.
Image from vulture.com

Image from vulture.com

Ugh. I feel bad, because I’m sure you’re a lovely girl. But, just like you’ve got to write songs about your past love affairs, I have to blog about the things that bother me. And today, that’s you. Sorry girl.

She does know how to make a catchy song, though. I’ll give her that.

On Wednesdays We Don’t Sleep

I shouldn’t be surprised that I suffer from insomnia. I mean, with my anxiety, my worrisome personality and my hypochondriac-ness, it only seems fitting that I suffer from a sleeping disorder.

I’ve always had a difficult time falling asleep. When I was younger I tried all sorts of things to combat my struggles. I tried listening to ocean wave sound effects, drinking warm beverages, turning my fan on, turning my fan off. Nothing really helped.

As I got older, I tried other things like hard drugs (kidding, Zquil) but that really doesn’t do the trick either.

Image from springhillseniorcare.com

Image from springhillseniorcare.com

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Hypochrondri-Acting Like I’m Dying

I do not think one single person is surprised to hear that I am a self-diagnosed hypochondriac.

Isn’t that the most ironic part of it all? By calling myself a hypochondriac, I’m diagnosing myself with a disorder that is about diagnosing yourself with disorders…

I FOREVER think that there’s something seriously wrong with me. I’m almost positive at this point in time that I have strep throat (or the common cold), a brain tumor (or a headache), and an incurable rash (dry skin?).

Image from buzzfeed.com

Image from buzzfeed.com

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Manic Mondays: Car Troubles

I’ve had it up to here (dramatically raises hand as far as possible above head) with car troubles.

And, honestly, I don’t think it has anything to do with me being a nut job that makes me freak out about this kind of thing. I think any normal human being gets frustrated with the hassles that come along with owning a car.

I feel like there is constantly something wrong with my motor vehicle. Granted, some of them are my fault (I may or may not have backed into my roommates stationary car at 1p.m. on a clear, Tuesday afternoon), but most of the issues I deal with are completely out of my control.

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