Finals, fun times to be sure. Nothing like a bunch of tests to make you realize how little you actually learn in a semester of psychology and most of all, how little you care. I also love how all of my professors suddenly remember they put three tests on the syllabus, not just two, and decide to cram it in during the week before finals. Then there�s always that professor who claims the final �will only cover material from the last test until now� knowing full well he is going to throw a zinger in there from the first test just to throw you off and prove once more that he is, in fact, the smartest man in the world with absolute power and control (the �pimp� so to speak). But when all is said and done there is nothing like checking your grades and realizing that you are a whole lot smarter than you thought (and everyone lied about that psych final being easy) and a certain history professor must have read your last newsletter because he re-evaluated your intelligence and admitted that he had just been jealous and took it out on your grade because he gave you an A. Thanks again, Mr. Curly!
JOKE OF THE MONTH:
A woman was sitting in a restaurant when she overheard three men�s conversation in the corner. The first said, �I think it�s Woooommmmb.� The second said, �No, no, it�s definitely Wommmmmmmbb.� The third said, �What are you, stupid? It�s Wwwwwombbb.� The woman finally got frustrated and walked over the their table. �It�s Womb!� she screamed. The three looked confused, and the first asked, �How would you know what an elephant fart sounds like?�
RANDOM ACTS OF�INSANITY:
Because we have the only snow-covered hill in Billings, I have done my fair share of sledding this break. I gave some of my friends sleds for Christmas, and not wanting them to go to waste this dry holiday, I invited them over to sled down the ice hill. We were having a great time safely sledding down the hill on the safe side one at a time, but safety gets boring. We decided to spice things up a bit by trying a four-person train: If you are unfamiliar with this sledding term, it is when people sit in sleds lined up one behind the other connected in some form with legs, arms, ropes, etc. We tried to figure out the most effective line up of sleds for getting down the hill without dying. Blake was in front on the purple sled, which is good for steering; Laura was second on the yellow disk sled, which is slippery and good for pushing the front sled; Emily and I were in the orange boat sled, which is good for nothing, but it seats two people so we had to use it. I told Blake to hold onto the rope attached to my sled and we all grabbed each other�s legs so we could stay together. Then we started down the hill. I should probably mention that the �run� we chose was a narrow strip of ice sandwiched between wooden steps and tall bushes and weeds, so we had to stay straight or we were doomed. Well, apparently, Blake�s sled chosen for its steering ability was also good for turning sideways, which is exactly what it did just in time to hit a metal stake poking out of the ground. Laura flew forward and pulled Emily out of our sled by her legs. I took very little notice, however, because I was still on course and was going to make it down the hill. Suddenly I realized that Blake had not held onto the rope like I told her. Instead, she had put it around her waist, and the inevitable happened�the sled jerked to a halt. I, according to the laws of physics, continued at the same momentum and was launched a good six feet. Lucky for me, my years as a human cannonball reminded me to curl into a ball and I avoided any permanent damage. When I came to a stop and looked back up the hill I saw Blake tangled in the rope screaming, �Get me out!�, Laura upside down with her head in the snow and her feet kicking straight up in the air, and Emily laughing so hard she couldn�t stand up. Somehow we all made it out okay. We all lived, and that in my mind, constitutes a success.
QUOTE CORNER:
�Your brother is over here saying I hate everything�I do not!� �Jeff Y.
�It�s Hansel. He�s so hot right now!� �Mugatu
�You better be glad I�m omnipresent!� �Blake E.
WORDS FROM THE WISE:
Once upon a time two sisters and a cousin went on a search for a game for their mother�s/aunt�s party. Yes, it was Blake and I and our cousin�Ashley. Now don�t start feeling all smart or whatever if you guessed it because, really, it was a given. On with the story: We brought 20 bucks to Toys R Us thinking surely that would be more than enough to buy the game. Obviously we forgot about the overpriced merchandise produced and endorsed by the dollar-eyed American market economy and the scheming get-rich-quick nuts with one central goal, cheating innocent consumers out of their hard-earned money, anything to turn a profit! Because the game actually cost $25. Being the Christmas season, we weren�t real keen on the idea of fighting traffic back and forth again for five measly bucks. We decided to steal it instead�Joke! We actually had no plan, and after we helped a lady find a game and I thought twice about asking her for five bucks, we called my mom. She and my aunt agreed to bring us extra money after my dad refused claiming �the Denver traffic did something to me� (still not sure what relevance it had, but with my dad, ya just kind of let that non-logic slide now and then). We waited by the exit for so long I started to feel like a junior higher again watching for my mom to pick me up from shopping with my friends. At least they had a couple of those kiddie ride things by the door, which kept us amused for a bit. It�s like Ashley said, �We get together and suddenly we�re ten again.� Finally, our mothers came and we were able to buy the game that started the whole mess.
The moral is a no-brainer: Bring more money. Oh! And bring quarters; you forget how fun those rides are.
THE DATING GAME:
It has come to my attention that some certain guys are fond of drinking and dialing. Let�s just say that if you are trying to impress someone, you don�t want to be forgetting your own number on an answering machine message. Nor do you want to say things like �You�re very pretty� in a cheesy voice. It's really not attractive despite popular opinion. I know that alcohol gives you the courage to breech this scary subject of calling a girl, but it�s just not the best way. It is statistically proven that 4 in 5 relationships in which drinking and dialing is involved ends abruptly. Don�t become a statistic. Take the advice of someone who has heard far too many embarrassing drunk messages: Friends don�t let friends dial drunk.
BRITTANY�S THOUGHTS ON FORWARDED MESSAGES:
So, I get this urgent forwarded e-mail telling me that I probably have this fatal virus on my hard drive because someone else had it and sent it to everyone in his address book, and that person sent it to everyone in her address book, then that person sent it to their address book of which I was a part. Included in the email (which I received from about 4 different people by the way) were instructions on how to find and destroy this virus. Of course I foolishly follow the instructions only to receive yet another forwarded message the next day telling me that this sublinc blah blah blah virus is in fact not a virus at all, and I just deleted a file that was good for my computer. See what forwarded messages are good for! Had I just stuck with my original plan to never open forwards, this never would have happened. My new year�s resolution is to never open forward messages, so you might as well save yourself the trouble of sending any to me.
MY SISTER THE RETARD:
For Christmas Blake got a big inflatable exercise ball from my aunt. She did not, however, get one essential element to use the ball properly�the video. This left her no alternative but to use it solely as a toy. It has basically turned into the ball-o-destruction. First, it somehow hit the fireplace full speed and broke the top off. Lucky for her, I knew how to fix it. Then she �accidentally� hit the lamp and knocked it off the table. It crashed to the floor and miraculously wouldn�t work anymore. She tried to con me into getting a new light bulb for her so she wouldn�t have to explain. I knew better than to get sucked into her web of lies. She just stole one from another lamp in the room, which solved nothing but at least the lamp still worked. The ultimate, though, was when she "unintentionally" threw the ball across the room and it landed on Max�s car sending it flying through the air and crashing to the ground. Luckily, a little glue would make it good as new again. I keep hoping the destruction has come to an end, but the more I think about it the more I realize that this ball has actually become a good luck charm. I mean, how many people do you know who could get away with almost breaking so many things without actually doing it? But, Blake, I believe someone wise once said, �Don�t push your luck.�
SIGN OFF:
On a rare serious note, be yourself. If there is one thing I�ve realized during this break, it�s how hard people try to fit a mold. Really all these people do is waste their lives striving for an unattainable goal only to lose themselves completely. All you will ever be is you, so you might as well accept it and work at it. You may realize you�re happier and be pleasantly surprised when people start trying to be you! I can tell you from experience that there is no greater feeling.
-brit
