Ever since I first became a student at the University of Maine, I became exposed to a lot of different things that I had never before seen, and one of these things was slacklining. At first, it looks like a bunch of hippies walking across a rope set up between two trees but upon closer inspection one realizes that there is actually loads of talent required to make the sport look so effortless. On campus, you know spring has sprung when the slackliners have set up their equipment on the mall and are taking turns at attempting various tricks on the rope. I have always observed from a distance, never daring to make a fool of myself in front of people who were so fluid and graceful in something that I would surely fail at. As it turns out, the owner of the store where I work is always searching for the next big thing to sell, and apparently the growing sport of slacklining has appealed to him. We now have a small line set up in the store in which anyone can take a hand at. With the encouragement of my boss, I decided it was probably a good idea to grasp the basics of the hobby in order to educate customers and assist them in any questions that they might have. Well – I did it – and I’m still alive to speak of it. My respect for the people who engage in slacklining has grown tremendously, as it is not nearly as easy as it looks. I still need some practice before I start joining the group on campus, but needless to say, it’s a fun way to stay active!
I happen to have the best co-workers ever. Everyday, their presence makes me somewhat happier to be in a place that otherwise sucks all the life out of me. Each and every person I have worked with holds special memories to me, whether it be a specific song or a phrase they were known to say a lot. Today I happened to reflect on a lot of co-workers, both past and present. It’s truly odd how some people you might despise as comrades in the work place but genuinely enjoy their presence in an external environment. I can think of several individuals who this concept applies to. Last summer was the first time I felt very connected with those that I worked with and I attribute it almost entirely to all of the activities we engaged in outside of the workplace, whether it be going out for night hikes or just having a bonfire, we got to know each other as more than just grouchy people who weren’t happy about being at work. I am truly blessed to have such fine co-workers. With this being said, I don’t understand how such great people can stay and work at such a crap job. The setting of my job is absolutely horrible, with drama around every corner you turn. There are a lot of corrupt things going on in this environment, which do not make working in such a place an enjoyable experience. I thank my co-workers for making my job worth waking up for everyday – because the work itself is certainly not fulfilling enough to inspire me.
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Since I lack the skills necessary to secure a glamorous internship or travel abroad to an exotic foreign country, instead I find myself returning to my summer job of the past six years. In a nutshell, I fold t-shirts and probably know more about the polarization of sunglasses than the clerk who sits behind the specialty kiosk at the mall. The only person to blame for returning to this mundane job is myself, as I am fully aware that I could take my reasonably marketable skills to an employer that is closer to home and more intellectually stimulating – however, I value job security and despise the interviewing process. Today was just another day in the professional shirt folding office. Work a ten-hour shift, deal with cranky customers, and explain seemingly obvious terms (2 for $20 does NOT mean 1 for $10!) Of all the eventful and somewhat strange things that happened throughout the day, I was completely astonished to find, during a walk through the kids section, a strong odor of marijuana. What kind of person reeking of the reefer finds themselves marveling over onesies for infants or frisbees? No one around revealed any sort of stoner vibe and the smell puzzled me for the rest of the day. I have nothing against smoking pot, but can you try not t drag the stench of it everywhere you go? It might not be appropriate when a school administrator catches a whiff during parent-teacher conferences. Just saying.
Simply put, I am not looking for any more loser boys in my life. I’ve run my course with multiple types of douche bags: stoner douche bag, arrogant douche bag, deep intellectual douche bag, and life of the party douche bag. Although it is against my nature to pick the stereotypical “nice” guy, a change is necessary. I receive absolutely no satisfaction in chasing after men that are too self-absorbed and non-committal for any type of relationship. I myself am nowhere near perfect, but I deserve better than what I have been offering myself up to. With this being said, I’m going to try to step outside my comfort zone and go after someone who actually will treat me with respect (gasp!) and not try to play me. Although this will be a hard task, I’m sure with a little luck and courage, I’ll be able to find what I’m looking for. If one thing isn’t working, it’s time to move on to another, and this realization has finally struck me. No longer am I accepting applications for boyfriends that are tainted as assholes. If you can’t be a man, then I’m not looking for you. With this being said, I am not looking for a super mature, responsible stiff. There is a happy medium between man and old man – so I’m also going to limit my applicants maturity level to under 35. If you’re maturity level puts you over 35 years of age, might I recommend you to my mother? So, am I picky? No. Just selective.
As you watch the video, keep in mind that I posted it more so for the lyrics than the highly sexualized dance moves.
Not really – but I think this video is hilarious! The David Attenborough is appropriate for most anything, and any word said in such a manner makes me pee my pants. Just saying.
Today’s human sexuality lecture was all about sexuality as we age with a focus on the elderly. There were a few key things I learned about in this lecture. First of all, getting old sucks. Secondly, I don’t care to ever think of any old people having sex, regardless of the fact of being related to said individuals. I think it is everyone’s personal nightmare to think about their parents having sex and I have found no exception to the rule. Whether it be because we associate our parents as being “old” or whatever lame reason we can come up with, it is simply disgusting to even think about our parents engaging in such promiscuous acts. Probably the most interesting thing brought up in the whole lecture was the notion that sex in the golden years is more about making a connection with your partner, whereas sex in your 20s and 30s is all about “how toned and great your body looks” – according to my human sexuality professor at least. So while growing is a real bummer and your sexual functioning is likely to decrease, hey! You have tons of time to do the duty as well as forming an intimate connection with your partner! After this lecture, another question was raised to my presence. At what age do people having sex become old? Personally, I don’t want to imagine anyone over the age of 40 having intercourse, but that’s just me. This is not to say that 40 is old though, it’s just old in terms of having sex. Hopefully the next 19 years of my life will drag by relatively slowly before I hit the dreaded 40 mark and risk having people, like myself, consider my sex life “disgusting.”
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Just the other day I was reading AOL news (such a legit news source – hah!) and was totally baffled to read that Brittany Murphy’s husband has just passed away. For those of you who aren’t in the know, Murphy passed away in December at the age of 32, in which an autopsy revealed she had died of “pneumonia, with secondary factors of iron-deficiency anemia and multiple drug intoxication.” On Sunday, her 40-year-old husband died as well, currently being labeled under “natural causes.” Although her husband did have heart issues, I still find it incredible that he died at the mere age of 40. The skeptic in me can’t help but suspect some sort of conspiracy or foul play was a part of the cause in the early death of these two individuals. Both were prominent in figures in Hollywood and it seemed very sudden and out of the blue that they should die, particularly in the case of Murphy. For the sake of the dead, I hope that there was no wrong-doing in their deaths. Regardless of the choices that you make and the things you’ve done in your life, (almost) everyone deserves to live a long and meaningful life. To die at such a young age carries so much heartbreak, not only to your family but to society as well. As a nation, we tend to look down upon drug users and homeless people who are relatively useless to our capitalist endeavors but even these individuals deserve to have a fair shot at life, one where they are taken care of should medical needs arise. If Brittany Murphy and her husband were indeed assisted in their deaths, said persons should be held accountable for their actions. However, it’s in the hands of the investigators to deem whether the situation was a homicide, not mine. Hopefully justice will be served if there was any sort of conspiracy going on – either that, or we will just have to accept that we laid 2 young people to rest after living very abbreviated versions of the lives they could have had.