What a week!
My mom had a work conference downtown and the company provided her with a hotel to stay down there, and I stayed with her. It brought my commute down from an hour to 20 minutes! I literally felt like Zack and Cody. I was living THE suite life. I had continental breakfast everyday; I was walking around the city without a care in the world. I don’t necessarily miss living in the city, and I absolutely doubt that I would live downtown at any point, but it is so nice to visit and stay down there. Gorgeous views, everything at an arm’s reach away, and interesting people everywhere you go. It’s nice.
I was one of the few college-aged people staying at the hotel, and one of—if not, the only—ones actually going to school while staying there. It inflated my already large ego. I think I might have an individuality complex. Eh, we’ll deal with that some other day.
Unfortunately, this week came with something less than suite… I relapsed. Badly. I had limited supplies at the hotel. I had nothing but my technologies to keep me entertained. I mostly played Dress to Impress. Actually, this month I’ve been replacing my scroll time with DTI time, so I’ve been playing a lot. And I’ve gotten pretty decent at it! A mix of playing so often and being so fashionable and gotten me to Fashion Maven level, mama. (That’s really good, guys.) I’ve added a Look Book section to the website to archive my fave looks! I may add a IRL section to Look Book, but I’m unsure. Stay tuned.
Anyways, whenever my computer died… guys… I turned to Pinterest. UGHHHHHH. It’s bad news. It’s real bad news.
People may argue that Pinterest is not the worst social media app to be on, which may be true for some people. But for me? For me it might be the most evil one. For starters, Pinterest and YouTube are the ones I’m most likely to scroll on. Then, it’s the fact there’s not really a goal with Pinterest, you know? You just keep scrolling until you’re tired of scrolling, and you may never grow tired of it, so BOOM! You’re stuck there forever. Pinterest, just being photos, is a lot about the looks or aesthetics, if you will. My feed isn’t always just photos of people, but when it is, I do feel a bit gross. Gross as in I think, “Why can’t I look that way?” and as in, “Why is everyone so obsessed with looks?” Also, I tend to end up on middle school Pinterest. I think Pinterest tends to skew young in general, so it feels like every other post or comment is made by a 12 year old, which makes a young adult like moi feel 80 years old. I scratched and clawed to get out of my tween years, there is absolutely no need for me to be back into that horrific mindset. Especially in the year 2024. Oh brother… Sorry to the tweens of 2024.
I’ve been doing pretty well with YouTube. I continue to watch podcasts while I do my menial work tasks, and I’ve decided to give myself YouTube time on weekends for the time being. I’ve been watching House (2004-2012) this week. I just finished season four, and guys. GUYS. I need to talk about it for a second. Spoilers ahead. Scroll a bit to skip them.
HOUSE SEASON 4 SPOILERS:
At first, I missed the ducklings, by which I mean Foreman, Chase, and Carmen, but as the interview/games started, I was living. There were a good amount of new, interesting characters, and it was so entertaining to see them interact with House’s shenanigans.
Amber was a good character. I liked how unabashedly awful she was. I wasn’t upset when she left, but I was elated when she came back, really only because it led to House and Wilson saying they were dating. I couldn’t really care less about her and Wilson. During the bed-buying episode, I thought she was good for him, but I don’t watch House for romance. I watch it for an inhospitable, genius doctor and sometimes Hilson. Also, Foreman. I love you, Foreman.
I think “House’s Head” is my favorite episode of the series so far. The mystery of it all. The underlying feeling of anxious dread. The memory scenes. The whole thing being a culmination of the season’s story lines, as well as character study of House. It’s just so good.
And then, the next episode is fucking called, “Wilson’s Heart.” Which literally made me fucking gasp. House is the head; Wilson is the heart. Do you people get that?!?!?!?!?!?!? I’m losing my mind. It’s the essence of their characters—of their dynamic. Perhaps, arguably, of the show! Plus the fact that the episodes are about as the titles imply, House’s head (literally) and Wilson’s heart (metaphorically). Fuck off.
When that woman on the bus asked House, “Who am I? What is my necklace made out of?” I screamed. They ate severely. Then, the next episode has Wilson acting senseless and House acting cautious. No crumbs.
RIP to Amber. I sobbed when she died. As it would turn out, the closest way to a man’s heart is by cutting his throat. If you know, you know.
END OF SPOILERS:
It was also Challengers Week!!! Whoop! Whoop! I had two Challengers-inspired looks (one not pictured), and two recreations of outfits from the movie. I went with Art’s churro look and Tashi’s fujoshi’s look. I think I nailed them. I would’ve bought a “I told ya” shirt, but I didn’t know I was doing a Challengers week until I was packing, and by then it was too late. Next time, next time.
I had some social fumbles this week. Let’s start with the less scarring:
Went to my friends’ house and met some of their other friends, one of which was this guy. Let’s call him Mr. Palmer because as Keke Palmer once said, “Sorry to this man.”
When we were introduced, Mr. Palmer said, “I think we had a class together.”
I responded with something along the lines of, “I highly doubt that.” You see where this is going.
About, hmmm, 28.3 seconds after he told me his name I realized… Ohhhhh… maybe we did have a class together….
This is basically what happened. Upon meeting him, I immediately clocked that he was a film major. Since film majors tend to stick to their college over in the loop, I figured the only classes we would have together would be Honors. I couldn’t remember him being in any of my Honors classes, and because an elephant never forgets, I determined that we likely never had a class together. This all happened in my brain within milliseconds.
But then he told me his name was Mr. Palmer, and I scanned my memory files for his name and… Uh oh. In my defense, I believe the class we had together—Screenwriting for Non-Majors—was one whole year ago, and he sat near the back while I sat near the front, so I never really saw his face too much. Despite not remembering having a class with him, I do remember that he said he was an English major, and that his final screenplay was quite good; he must have switched majors after that. An elephant may forget a guy but will not forget that guy’s entire life story, apparently.
Did I tell him he was right and we did have a class together? No. That would be admitting I was wrong and being wrong is just not something I would do.
My second social fumble was tragically worse:
I was walking on my way from my work office to my class when I saw that this girl entering her class had dropped her AirPod. I, being a Good Samaritan, picked it up and tried handing it to her. Except her hands were full—she had her laptop in one hand and her coffee in the other. For reasons I shan’t even attempt to understand, I tried handing the AirPod to her coffee-hand, and she tried to move her fingers enough to grab a hold of it. And, well… It fell in. The AirPod fell into the coffee. It even made a small splash.
Her and I both gasped and stood in shock. Then, she said something like, “Oh well,” and entered her class. I apologized, then walked to my class. It has been haunting me since.
There is a very likely chance that I will run into her again, which I am terrified about. What do I do if I see her again? I want to apologize—I feel so extraordinarily bad. But if I apologize and the AirPod no longer works (which is also very likely), will she expect me to pay for it? Girl, I’m broke! And you have to admit, it wasn’t completely my fault! Maybe I’ll go halfers. I have this probably irrational fear that she hates me so much she’s going to spill coffee on me the next time we run into each other. I wanted coffee spilled on me rom-com style, not Glee style!
Okay, one more thing: Oscar Piastri won his second race on Sunday. You love to see it. The race was so good, and the win was undeniably his. It almost makes up for the shitty way he won his maiden race, but we don’t need to get into that (or else I’ll get pissed off). This season has been great; I can’t wait to see how it ends.
Leave a Reply