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Another chem exam tomorrow. Wish me luck, as this time I am ill prepared. Alas, I blog rather than study.

Yesterday was the first parking ticket of the year.
Tomorrow, the October love continues with a trip to the corn maze. I am excited, I will be social.

Today, I'll admit, was kind of a wash. I didn't really get caught up in the subjects I needed to be caught up in, but hopefully this weekend will be fruitful.

Also, I've noticed that I probably absorb too much information about passersby. I actually think about people who will never be part of my life, nor will I be part of theirs. I try to guess if the girl next to me has a really weird habit, or what the guy on the bike crossing the street's favorite food is. I guess it's weird, weirder still that I'd admit to it and have the nerve to blog about it. These are the clues which lead me to believe that I'm not quite normal, but I'm okay with myself. Am I too young to be self-actualized? I think I have a fair estimation about where on the social, academic, attractiveness, attentiveness, luckiness, etc. food chains I lay. I'm a little fuzzy on the meaning of 'self-actualized' but I think I've got a pretty firm hold on who I am. This is obviously not to say there aren't things that I can't work on, but I know where my weaknesses are, for the most part, I think. That sounded sure of myself, pfah. Also, let's not get ahead of ourselves, just because I know who I am doesn't mean I like or am okay with every aspect about myself...

I hate pilling on shirts and sweaters from backpack straps. I think it looks shitty and I'm not sure how to avoid it short of losing my love handles completely which would make me less lovable and therefore I don't want to do at this point in time. A quick google search returned a handy comb for pillage...(ha, pillage, as in I'd pillage a village, which also coincidentally rhymed) but that costs money that I'm not sure I'm willing to devote to this.


Also, sporcle is an INCREDIBLE use of time. Not incredibly good, but incredible nonetheless.