Talk, Talking A Lot, But It's Still Talk

*plops down*  Whew!  I just spent about an hour dancing around my dorm room like crazy to this song.  Go listen to it (or at least part of it) and you'll understand why I'm worn out now - it's pretty fast, and I guess I was closer to flailing than dancing per se.

(Just a warning - it's almost a guarantee that it'll get stuck in your head if you listen to it, so follow the link with caution.)

I also did a good portion of this so-called "dancing" in front of my mirror and thus was able to confirm that, yes, I am an energetic but terrible dancer.  Like, if someone was trying to dance with me I'd probably smack them in the face by accident.  Repeatedly.  So often that it would cease to look like an accident and I'd probably be arrested.

Anyway, if any of you actually checked the song out, you probably have some serious doubts as to my taste in music right now (and are probably also cursing me because now it won't get out of your head.  Ha!)  I don't know why I like it, either, but I'm feeling pretty manic at the moment, so maybe it's just a mood thing.

Wow, this post is really pointless.  Like, beyond my usual.  Whoops.

I need to turn off the music and finish my homework anyway.  I have finals in a week and I haven't really studied all that much yet.  And I'm nursing a serious grudge against my Biology professor for testing us over the whole semester's worth of material.  (I know that's the point of a final, but none of my other professors are doing it and it's at least twenty chapters of crap.  NOT ON.)

Also, the lab sucks.  We keep dissecting things, and even though it doesn't particularly gross me out, it is getting tedious (and the smell isn't exactly a plus, either.)  As if that's not annoying enough, today we were talking about the reproductive system.  And if for some reason you're laboring under the delusion that college students can be mature about this sort of thing, allow me to correct you: they can't.  Didn't help that the TA was talking about it all in his incomprehensible accent, and he's also the last person I want to hear talking about anything even remotely related to sex.

"I wonder," I mused to myself as the TA rambled on about VAA-gin-uhs (to a chorus of undignified giggles and snorts), "if I could beat my head against the table hard enough to knock myself unconscious."

And, once again, I was the sucker who had to do all the actual dissecting.

"I could be doing anything else right now," I hissed to the guy sitting across from me.  "I could be reading The Iliad, finishing my Philosophy essay, studying for my Stats final-"

"Or sleeping," he supplied helpfully, slurping his coffee.

"-Or sleeping," I agreed, slicing through the lifeless (and curiously flattened) animal on my tray recklessly.  "And it would be infinitely preferable to molesting a dead rat before ten a.m.."

(We were dissecting them so we could examine their reproductive organs, so as to illustrate the material we're covering this chapter.)

"I'll give either one of you twenty bucks if you lick the rat," another guy said, leering as he leaned over the table to check out either the organs spilling out of the dead rodent or my breasts - it was hard to tell.  I opened and closed the dissecting scissors threateningly and he leaned back in his chair, falling asleep in about five seconds.

As you can see, only geniuses are accepted here.  And I really am going now.

I had a recital today - God, I hate those things.  I like singing, but audiences make me extremely nervous.  Still, I think I actually did well; a bunch of people came up to me afterwards with compliments, which has never happened before.  It was kind of embarrassing.

Oh, well.  At least it's over.  Although I'm no longer taking lessons, even, since I'll be in another state by the end of August.  Gah.  What am I going to do with my Friday evenings now?  Those lessons were all that got me out of the house - it's not like I have a big group of people calling me up to invite me somewhere.  *descends into self pity*

Okay, I'm over it.

Speaking of college, my mom and I went to Target today and bought a ridiculous amount of stuff for my dorm.  (Yes - MY dorm.  The knowledge that I have a single never fails to enormously improve my mood.)  I'm being a lot pickier about coordinating things than I thought I would be.  Who knew I was so anal?  But all the crap we bought barely scratched the surface of the list we put together.  That list goes on for three pages and isn't even finished yet.  It's kind of frightening, actually - my mom's uber organized, so the list has all kinds of categories and sub-categories.  Just looking at it made my brain cramp up.

*sigh*  And now I'm looking at college courses so I have some idea of what I want before I go register for classes.  Even though I've already fulfilled my foreign language requirement, I want to learn a new one...but honestly, none of the languages they offer appeal to me.  I would fail miserably at Chinese or Japanese.  I've never had an interest in learning German or French.  Spanish would be practical...but everyone takes Spanish, and honestly the prospect kind of bores me.  Swahili and Hindi are a little too out there.  I already took four years of Latin, and Greek just feels too similar.  Italian doesn't interest me either.

What I really want to learn is Gaelic.  Lately I've been on this whole "Irish pride!" kick - and I know I'm going to study abroad in Ireland.  I've been planning on that for three years.

Bleh.  I'll figure something out.  There's always...sign language.  And if the urge to learn Gaelic doesn't go away, I could always find a way to teach myself the language.  

...HAHAHAHA.  Yeah, that'll happen.  Pssh.