I Know Sunflower Seeds Are Disgusting, But I Can’t Stop Eating Them - I don’t allow myself to eat them very often, but when I do, it’s awful. I’ll buy a 14.5 oz bag of the things and eat the whole thing in a matter of days. I’m guessing that I’m lured to them due to several reasons. They’re salty as shit. Everyone loves salt, right. Well, I’m no different. Sodium and I go way back. I also haven’t peed since 2002. Kidding. I also thing I really like them because of all the work I have to do to get to that delicious little treasure that is hidden with that crunch shell. I’ll usually pop several in my mouth at once but, from there, I focus my attention on little guy at a time. I love the delicious cracking noise as my molars apply slight pressure as the shell splits open in two pieces. From there, I use my tongue to fish out my tiny prize from one of its concave shelters and then chew it with relish. I never do this in front of people because it’s gross. There’s too much saliva and trash involved. And passion.

So What If I’m Kind of A Snob, It Just Means I’m Living A Higher Quality of Life… right?! - Whether I roll my eyes when I hear “Rock Star” by Nickelback gently blasting from the headphones of the guy walking by me or I make a gagging motion at my friend when she orders a whiskey and Coke with Jack instead of Member’s Mark, I think that I’m right and justified. Sure, I might secretly be jamming out to the over-synthesized choruses and non-artist-writtern of Miley Cyrus’s “Nobody’s Perfect,” but I can still make fun of you for listening to 3Oh3?!. Yeah, I can, and that’s because I’m right and you’re wrong.

I Am A Champion Dilly-Dallier/Lollygagger/Procrastinator. Whatever. I’ll Make My Mind Up In A Minute - Prime example of my tendency to put things off until the very last minute: as I mentioned earlier, I go to school and I work on campus too. This means I spend most of my time at school. Monday through Friday, I have to be on campus by ten or ten thirty. That’s a pretty good time, right? Not early in the morning at all, but I don’t waste away most of the day. To help me get to school on time, I set my alarms at 8:50am and 9:35am. One is to make sure I’m up and sentient and the other is my cue to GTFO of my house. Notice that neither are designated to actually wake me. This is because I have the natural ability to have my body and mind wake up on their own at about 8:20am. This is awesome, right? It should allow me more than enough time to get to class or work in an unrushed and timely manner. In reality, however, I almost never early for work or class. I’m usually right on time or one to four minutes late. At the moment I wake up, I tell myself that I have enough time to simply lie in bed and turn a few things in my head, whether it be the night’s dream or the day at hand or some guy or anything really. This laying in bed can last from fifteen minutes to half an hour. I get into the bathroom that’s only a few steps away and begin my morning regime. Pee, hands, face, teeth, and hair (I’m a night shower-er). The hair usually takes a bit. My hair is quite long and I’m a little bit obsessed with it so I’ll spend quite some time parting it, brushing it, and just trying to get it to look nice. After this, I got back to my room to check my phone and return any calls I may have missed or reply to any waiting text messages or, more often than not, check my usually-empty inbox, get on my LJ f-list, Delicious links, and, of course, Facebook. If I’m feeling sharp, I’ll also squeeze in a few games on my Minesweeper application. I’ll then boot up my laptop, start playing some music to get me in the mood to start the day with a positive attitude, and since I’m already here, I might as wellcheck my usually-empty inbox, get on my LJ  f-list, Delicious links, and, of course, Facebook. In addition, I’ll also check my Google Reader since I still have yet a good app to do so on my phone. By this time, it’s about ten minutes past nine but I’ve still got plenty of time. With Lady Gaga playing in the background, I stare contemplatively at my full closet and pick out an experimental outfit. I model it for a few minutes and poses in front of a full mirror, deem it too avant-garde, and switch to a more conventional outfit. This goes on for several more outfits until I’m exasperated beyond belief and I end up in my uniform: jeans, v-neck, cardigan, and flats. After I’m clothed, I turn on the tube and watch some music videos or a morning show or a movie. Next thing I know, It’s 9:42 and it takes me at least ten minutes to get to campus and find a good parking spot. I get to my car in the driveway, remember my backpack, car keys, or something else and then I’m actually leaving my house at ten till. And there you have it, I have written a huge paragraph to just hold off from coming up with three more thing about me. Fail.

May I Go Through Your iPod? Why Do You Have The Beatles The Times Here? The Dresden Dolls and Dresden Dolls? Son, You Need To Fix Your iTunes Tags. - Another thing I’m really fickle about is keeping my iTunes library in perfect order. The artist must be correctly listed (punctuation, accents, spelling), if there is a track with two artists, find out whose song it is and name it Main Artist – Track Name ft. Companion Artist. It is never both artists at once. Also, album art is a must. A quick ImageGoogle search will help you find what you’re looking for and even if nothing specific is found, just slap on there a favorite picture of said artist. Anything.

*Sniffle* No, I’m Not Crying Because I’m Sad I Got A Parking Ticket! These Are Angry!Tears! - I hate this about myself. Whenever I’m really angry, I cry. Unfortunately, openly weeping is usually interpreted as sad, so when I really just want to tear someone’s head off and feed it to my dog, I’m often regarded as being seriously wounded. I’m not. These are hot, livid tears of righteous anger. Not sadness.

Hey Everyone, Check Out My Brand New Ray-Ban Sungla…sses? Uhm, Gosh. I Was Just Wearing Them On My Head… Then I Set Them Down On That Bench But I Picked Them Up. Yes, I Did! Oh, god. - So I lose my shit all the time. Last year, I really did lose a pair of Ray-Ban wayfarers. I wasn’t stupid enough to leave them on a bench, but I was plenty stupid to leave them in a fitting room. Sigh. So many of my possessions have gone missing. I’ve lost wallets, students IDs, driver’s licenses, jeans, shirts, cellphones, Blackberrys, books, lip balms, CDs, cameras, earrings, bracelets, shoes, calculators, jackets, hoodies… I would go on but this is just depressing. I’ve actually Googled “Why do I always lose my shit?” with no satisfactory answers, so here’s to another twenty years of absent-mindedness and countless of soon-to-be lost items!

Well, this was fun!