Landlords?! More like landtyrants!!

Most of the time I'm a pretty patient guy when it comes to our landlords. I think they may be a little overzealous and a little paranoid and a little stingy and a little... well, you get the idea. So most of the time I just choose to sit back and let other people dog on them. This time broke the camel's back.

I've had enough of their incessant emailing! How many times do they REALLY need to email us!? I probably get more contact from my landlords than I do from my own parents and family!! When are they finally just going to sit back and let things accumulate? Stop changing things. Stop adding things. Stop critiquing things. Let things be, let them run their course. They complain about funding for their mortgages (Which none of us really need to know anything about. Seriously?!), so if it's such a problem then stop making upgrades!! Stop investing more and put that money towards your extravagant debt already!!! We as tenants do NOT need to hear about it, nor SHOULD ever hear about it. It's unprofessional!

Arrggh! Frustrating!

it's not okay.

I used to think I needed to marry a guy who had really high expectations for me because there is something inside me that is stubborn enough to never say "I can't."

Sometimes I thrive in those kinds of circumstances.
But recently, I've realized that, while high expectations help us grow, unrealistic expectations make us give up.

But there comes a point when lines are crossed and the expectations you hold for other people are more than anyone can live up to.
And when you mock them because they fail or because their priorities aren't the same as yours, because they are involved in more than just your life's work,

that's when it's too much.

When I'm getting fired up and all I want to say is:

You just DON'T treat people like that. Just because you are in a position of authority does not give you the right to act like a child.
To ignore people's efforts.
To interrupt them.

If you expect people to listen to you or trust you or ever want to be around you, you have to give them the respect their efforts as well as their successes.

I just have two more words for you: positive reinforcement

tick tick tick

I'm stressed.

(Not angry, mind you, just stressed).

And I'm not even really stressed about school. I'm stressed about moving and responsibility and projects and things I want to accomplish outside of school.

And all of this is made worse by the fact that my room is a disaster.

But I'm moving on Thursday. And I'm going to try and not take my messes with me.

Here's to fresh starts and clean carpet.

why do i keep caring?!

When I was in pre-calculus, I would draw doodles of my textbook dying in various ways: stabbed by a knife, lit on fire, drowning.

That was nothing compared to what I'd like to do to 391.....

......I hate it more than physics.

There, I said it.

I didn't think it was possible, but boy, a semester of no sleep and far too much Benson face time proved me so, so, so wrong.

Get me out of here!

Utah winter is...

dangerous

cold

slushy

annoying

inconvenient

frustrating

ridiculous

monotonous

only pretty the first day when you are inside

endless

really sucky.

T freaking d. Should've known.

I would just like to feel vindicated on the choice of my major.

And know that there is a subject out there that I could actually do well enough in to go to grad school.

That's all.


!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

cap that.

Dear Religion Professor,

The combined class average for both of your sections on the last midterm was 75.5%. The class average on my last physics test was 72%.

THERE IS SOMETHING VERY WRONG WHEN THE RELIGION TEST IS AS HARD AS THE PHYSICS (and not just any physics mind you, this is electricity and magnetism using calculus, and it sucks) TEST!!!!!!!

ALSO! I think participation points are retarded and that I still deserve an A in French. I know that this has nothing to do with you or your class (except you have some deal with participation too....just so you know I plan on giving myself a 100%), but I am rather frustrated right now.

AND I HATE TYPING PAPERS WITH 2 cm LONG NAIL TIPS!!!!

Angrily yours,

Katya

I'veneverwantedtoswearsobadly

I'm an idiot when it comes to remember passwords.
I'm also completely irresponsible with my finances.

It really sucks when the two combine.

The End.

mmmmmwhatchasay?

Dear American Christianity,

I sort of hate you right now on account of the test I have to take tonight/tomorrow for which I am rather unprepared.

I also sort of hate the fact that I all of a sudden am doing bad in every class, not just physics.

And I would really like to fling myself on the ground and throw a tantrum.

And maybe check out of life for a week.

Thanks much,

Katie

ALSDGHKAOISDFHIASDKLHVHASGKHAH
ESGHIAeGHIhewhiaehiaghiahisvdjawer(ouawLO
iaSDfhasfhdsaghkaHKLSFHKLADSGA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I hate job hunting. The end.

So...I've never been that great with computers. I have a love-hate relationship with them. Mostly hate.

I figured it was just my natural tendency to be old-fashioned...(or lazy?)

I mean, I can type like nobody's business...78wpm thank you very much. And am very capable of multi-tasking (i.e. homework plus blog surfing)

But do I have a "working knowledge" (whatever that means) of Excel?
Publisher? (more important question: do I even know what publisher is/does?)
HTML?
WP9? (????)

nope.

Therefore I am obsolete and unqualified for any jobs that don't involve the dreaded cafeteria of the freshman...those days are over.

Oh except one:
I could be a cake froster.
Yep, I can do that.
I think.
oh wait. it's from midnight to THREE in the morning!*


*I think I'll pass on the walking-home-late-at-night-and-getting-attacked part. If only I had a nice gentleman to walk me home...ha...ha...
(And this just turned into a rant about boys..wow. It's official: I blame all my problems in life on men. It's just easier that way.)

Maybe I'm picky.
Not! I'm not picky!
I wanted to be a waitress! but no one will hire me because I'm not 21 yet! (stupid utah)

GAHHHHH.....

Whatever

*Daniel's right. *Elizabeth's right. *Clyde's right. *Rebecca's right. They're ALL right!

So what the heck is my problem!? Why can't I listen to people's advice!? "Out of the mouth of two or three..." Hello!? Why do we ask for people's advice if we don't even use it? Perhaps because we secretly wish that someone along the way will give us the advice we're looking to hear!

Απλά. Αγαπάω τιν φίλη μου. Γιατί δεν με δίνει αυτό που χρειάζομαι;

All I can clearly say is this: &%$#@!?!?, &%$#@!?!?, &%$#@!?!?, &%$#@!?!?

*Names have been changed.

Oh, for the love of gallium!

GAHHHHHHHHHHHh.

Why, oh why, oh why must you be so difficult calorimetry!

I swear, the next time the helium bulb's mysteriously empty after having been filled hours before, the line just won't pump down to a low enough pressure, or the calorimeter doesn't seal for no apparent reason, I'm picking up a hammer. I'm going to unleash my fury on the glass vacuum line and break it into a thousand little pieces and then stomp on them in very thick boots while screaming "Screw this rig! Sign me up for PPMS 101!!!"

And then I will get fired.

Hmmm.

I suppose I'll just keep those actions in my head....and go back to refilling the bulb. For the what is it now? Oh yeah, fourth time in three days.

Awesome.

Stomache Pains

I woke up this morning feeling like a wrung-out washcloth; feeling like no matter what I do it's never good enough.

I'm frustrated. I'm tired. I'm sad. I'm confused. I'm not sure what I'm feeling exactly. I'm a wrung-out washcloth.

Κύριε ἐλέησον! Θάλασσα καὶ πῦρ καὶ γυνή, κακὰ τρία. Μέτρον ἄριστον. Τί κοινότατον; Ἐλπίς. Καὶ γὰρ οἳς ἄλλο μηδέν, αὔτη παρέστη.

Ναι... αυτά...

something worth venting about.

I really don't like the word "hate," but I can't seem to find a better word at this moment.

I hate books that are filthy. and I mean filthy, filthy. Filthy enough to make me put them down, even when the non-filthy parts are sooo potentially incredible. {And I am selective about what I read/watch, but I am not someone who gets squeamish during a PG movie.}

And I hate when you can't even get past page 5. At least the author has the decency to warn you early, that this is not the kind of so-called "love" you believe in and/or want to read about for 500 pages (and believe me, I skimmed a great deal of it, and saw more than a few choice expletives, as well as some "scenes" I have no desire to reproduce in my head)

And I hate that books don't have a rating system. That would make things so much easier. Books are supposed to be better than movies, right?

Grrrrrrr! <---that is how I feel inside right now. Blood boiling. Almost the same way I feel when I think about landfills, and anti-mormon stunts at Conference.

For the LOVE!!!!

Okay, that's IT!! This one's simple. And maybe ya'll already know the answer. I suppose it's mostly just an inquiry. So here it is.

Inquiry: Why the heck can I NOT post comments on ANYONE'S posts?! It's driving me absolutely NUTS! I had some real nice ones all stapled out for Kellie, and Katie, and Laura... then I hit send... and nothing.... Aggh!! I select the profile, Google account in my case, then hit post.... wait for it.... wait for it..... it reloads and *poof,* my heart felt comment has "disapparated" into NOTHING! So my lovely lady friends, think not that I have no comments. Thus, they are apparently not freaking meant to be! Ggrrrrrrrrrrrrr!!!

.... I think Blogger.com favors females.... the only explanation I can come up with.... it's getting revenge on me for that whole estrogen comment... ... ... figures... ... ...

:P .... .... that's all I have to say about that.... ... ...

Here's your sign!

Okay, so it's my turn to vent. This is ridiculous! Women!!!! I hate, no, LOATHE this ordeal that we term as "Woman's Conference." For all you ladies out there, which hey, is the other three people that follow this blog, I apologize.

Background:
Woman's Conference: That lovely time of the year in which a million estrogen filled vessels make their way to God's University. Why? Good heavens, I don't have a clue. I think it's some kind of "flower power," women's rights, "Go ladies" tripe that just fuels their britches and gets 'em pumped for the next 12 months.

My Predicament:
So, here I sit in a visitor booth just to the east of the Wilk trying to maintain law and order between who can park and who can not. FYI: There are two HUGE signs that say, "This is NOT a Woman's Conference parking lot." Yet take a crack at how many women CAN'T READ!!!

Dialogue:
"I've been driving all over campus and can't find anywhere to park. Every lot is full."
(My brain is thinking, "Uh huh. Sure they are.") "Hiiiiii there. Well here's what we're going to have you do. Take this..... blah blah blah.... and voila! You're there."
"Are you serious!!!!?" (Spit flying.)
*She speeds away*

I love my job.


Okay.... I might have to rescind a few comments. A lady just came up to me and said this:
"Dear. I found a parking space. Thank you so much. You've saved me so much time from having to run around looking for a spot and now I can get in get out and make my way back home to Salt Lake. Thank you. I was going to have Subway for lunch but I thought of you and just wanted to thank you for your help. Here, take my sandwich."

*melt*

I know what you three are thinking, "Serves you right."
:P

Tough

Sometimes, no matter how much you want something to work out or how fervently you pray for things to get better, they just don't. At least not for a while. And no matter how many people and good friends surround me 24/7, and despite the fact I know Heavenly Father won't abandon me, most of the time I feel completely alone, isolated, empty.
Good thing we have this blog for me to vent about it. Not like you guys don't get it enough anyway. Thanks for putting up with it (usually).