what the fuck is a grandpuppy?

okay so tonight was human growth and development with dr. babble ass. i will leave her anonymous for now, so as not to destroy my grade if she were to ever get ahold of this particular entry. holy freaking god. save me. please. or shoot me. okay first, being that we are in the counseling field, we should be people that others would see as someone they would want to seek help from, right? well, dr. human damn development does not fall into the someone i want to seek counseling from category. see, dr. growth, is well, just that... growthy. not a small woman, to put it nicely. frumpy, big scraggly hair, crooked yellowy teeth, some dandruff, some splotchiness, and some just not goodness exuding from her. grooooss. i mean, nice, i guess, just not easy on the eyes. which again goes along with the idea of her not being someone i want to seek help from.
so she bumbles about for 3 hours, discussing the syllabus in too much detail, her family and how they lived without indoor plumbing back in the 1700s, her opinion on school programs which according to her do not reflect the opinions of clemson as a whole.... and she also forced us to play the "lets get to know each other game" -- you know, the one where you introduce your new friend and tell interesting facts about them the way we did when we were in the second fucking grade? yeah, big yay for the get to know me game. she got a little twitterpated when i was like "yeah i have my tragus pierced." ha. she thought i was being foul. that was funny. oh yeah, and we were so lucky as to learn about her extended family as well -- she decided to share with us about her grandpuppy. Really, what the fuck is a grandpuppy?! She's all like "OMG, I could talk about my grandpuppy for hours, so if you want to know anything about my grandpuppy, you just ask me and we can talk about grandpuppies." this is the part where i screamed on the inside and tried to smile on the outside. difficult task. and like, of all things to elaborate on, who picks grandpuppies? come to find out, i thought that a grandpuppy might be a puppy from other puppies, you know, like a whole generation of puppies. no. wrong thought process. apparently a grandpuppy is the pseudo child of your own child. who knew?
whatever. so we get through class. which mind you, was no easy situation. ugh. she is all disorganized, scatterbrained, and frumpy. and frumpy is not okay in my book. makes my learning abilities plummit when you are frumpy. gah. so she babbles on about these crazy papers we have to write and like, as a class, we were discussing shit since she did in fact put us into shit-discussing groups... and then, without warning, proceeds to say, "raise your right hand if you can hear me." people in the class actually gasped "whhaaat?" and nicely refrained from adding "the fuck" to the end of their flabbergastedness. like, its one of those moments when your jaw lowers slightly, your eyelids get heavy, you shove your chin into your chest and only moderately raise your eyebrows and think to yourself, "did i really just witness this?" lord help us. and especially help erin, who has the misfortune of having to experience the frumpy growthy beast for now a second time. poor child. she will need help after this. but not from her of course. as we've learned, dr. human growth ass is not the one we seek out when our lives are a spiraling death whirlwind of disaster.

Then What is Forever For...

As I've mentioned, I started graduate school this semester. Yesterday I had a class with Dr. Neil, and he shared a little background about his family. He told us how his parents divorced when he was 6 years old, and how he didn't understand divorce because he thought marriage was forever. He used this quote:
"If something isn't forever, then what is forever for?"
Doesn't that make you think? And doesn't it make you sad?
Once upon a time, I thought I was going to have a forever. I had the ring that was going to prove it. It may not have been an engagement ring, but it was a beautiful diamond, and it was from the only person I have ever been in love with. I don't mean for this to sound like a sob story, because it actually isn't. I've learned so much from that relationship and I am so thankful that I had him in my life. The relationship I had with Blair is actually a good portion of the reasoning behind my desires to become a counselor.
For years, I have said that I am terrible at my own relationships; that I am bad at being in them, but really good at giving advice to others about their relationships. I had convinced myself that I was infact doomed to a lifetime of crappy, ailing relationships because I was incapable of handling myself within them. At the risk of sounding completely poetic and ridiculous -- I left yesterday's class feeling that I had encountered some small form of an epiphany. Dr. Neil said that we "wouldn't be going into the counseling field, if we weren't good at it ourselves." And obviously, I wouldn't want to go into marriage counseling if I wasn't good at relationships. Before I had a full-fledged panic attack, I realized that maybe, just maybe, I am actually good at all this boyfriend/girlfriend stuff after all. Just because these relationships have not lasted, does not mean that I did not put my heart into them. Just because Blair and I broke up, does not mean I suck at relationships. We were both actually amazing for each other. Shit happens though. And sometimes shit shouldn't happen as much as it did for he and I. But we tried. And we loved each other. And I offered everything I could. I tried so hard to make things work and to compromise. And I know he did too. And we both learned from what we had, which is the most important part of a relationship or breakup. If you can come out of something so serious and feel that you know yourself better, then a breakup is not necessarily a failure. And I thank God that I realize that now.
I am so excited about grad school. I feel like I am really doing the right thing by advancing within the field of counseling. My life wouldn't make sense if I wasn't supposed to help other people solve their problems and at the same time help myself continue learning. I am looking forward to the madness and wonderfulness that is grad school.

writing funk. boo.

so, i suck. i know. i haven't written a damned entry in like 20 days. terrible. well, not a lot of insanely fun things have happened... due to this lack of unfunness, i have not had the urge to share my life with you people.

in regular news though, i start my first day as a graduate student tonight at 6:15. kinda crazy. i'm excited about it though. kinda. actually, i'd really rather go get waaasted.

random: i bought one of those things that is fabric-like that you color and hang on the wall. it features patrick, from spongebob, and he is riding some ridiculous bike down a big underwater bike ramp and it says "make it stop." i purchased the fabric fun for my favorite half, joe. yes, joe appreciates these things. as do i. so it works. don't judge.

and really that is about the most exciting thing that has happened lately. i'm in a writing funk. sorry guys. i'll work on it...

Jobs, Balls and Strippers

So, I am officially the new girl at Esso. Wooo Hooo! I am way excited about this job. Candle actually had been hounding my ass about applying for a good month or so and I finally gave in and tried it out. My first day was Monday. It went really well. Minus the smart ass kitchen guys who refuse to call me Nicole and refer to me only as Damn New Girl. But I give them hell back, so they like me. They actually have said they think I am quiet. Ha! I told them to give me a week. They'll see. So today I actually ran around on the floor all by myself. Yay. I have a job. And I managed to get through my first real day with only one screw up. So thank you, Candle, for making me get a job. Heart you.

In other drunk news: last night was karaoke with Ed Miller. Duh. Joe and I drank Christmas (beam and coke, for those of you who have not been keeping up with the blogs). So Candle was all hellbent on singing. I really didnt want to, but she was like "get fucked up and then you will!" so I did. and we did. "Nic and Company" (me, Candle, Joe and Jayson) sang Shot Through the Heart. I was waaaasted. And I sorta took over the performance. Imagine that. I was rockin' my tacky shades and using the mic
cord as a dance prop. I also incorporated a few well-placed CHAs into the song. For my fantastic efforts with the cha, Ed Miller rewarded me with free shit. I got to pick from a pile of junk, and of course I went for the biggest, gawdiest, most ridiculous thing I could find: a big ass golf ball with the Miller High Life Light logo plastered across it. Cuuuute. Tacky as shit. Love it. I'm going to display it in the apartment, along with the road sign that I stole this weekend in Charleston that reads Speed Hump. Yesss. Cha! (I will get to the Charleston story momentarily) So, yeah here is a lovely picture of us posing with our ball. Ha. Everyone wanted to touch my ball. I was like no, bitches, it's my ball... so I was drunk. And then I got to take it to Beezer's. Which was amusing. Yay for balls. Ha.

So okay, also in drunker news: I drove to Charleston Saturday to get waaaasted with Megan and Emily. We went to City Bar and did the normal round of 8000 shots and then grinded with the pole. I pretended to dance on it... in all actuality, the pole was the only thing keeping me standing. We left City Bar and ran over to 213. Lucky for us, I had aquired a VIP pass which allowed all of us to weissel in without paying or waiting. Sweet. However, it was way packed out, so we left and went to Wild Wings. Took even more shots. And eventually got kicked out at closing time. Fuuuun. We ate the hell out of the hot dogs that we bought at 2:00 and then we took Emily back so she could pass out and avoid the madness that was to come. The madness came in the form of Thee Southern Belle; the fully nude, trashy ass titty bar in Charleston. They actually have redecorated and now have couches everywhere -- like it looks like theater seating in there. Ridiculous. Also ridiculous that I know they have redecorated. Me, Megan and Andrew sat there for like 4 hours in amazement of how well these girls could shimmy up and down a freakin stripper pole. Around 5:00 am, all the girls pranced out and we got to pick our favorite to go get a private dance from if we wanted to. Our girl Cookie was there! Yesss. (If you recall, over Spring Break, we liked the girl in the girlscout costume, and I appropriately named her Cookie and she had since become our favorite stripper.) So we go in the back room, whereupon she absolutely molested me and Megan. Like, Megan actually held my hand for a second because she was so freaked out. Really funny. Cookie was all swingin her hair on us, breathing in our ears, purring, smacking her ass, biting us, buzzing in our crotches... yes, buzzing. And it is really strange. And I'm not sure exactally how I feel about that still. The girl is nuts. After she was done with her little show, Megan said my name for some reason and Cookie was like, "Nicole?! That's my name, too!" I was like, "I knew I liked her for a reason." So yay, I have the same name as Cookie. Ha. There is an accompliment. What a night. We even got huge t-shirts out of it.. with half naked chicks on the back. Woot.

So today we have learned that it is good to say yay for new jobs, big balls, and stippers.

The End.