Prepare to be amazed.

Due to billions upon billions of requests… I. have. started. a blog. yes. a. blog. (insert one of those seksi winking faces here)

This first post will be your typical introduction to the imaginery person’s realm you are reading about. I just got married 144 days ago and lovin’ it, nothing beats the official reassurance that I am a) not completely hideous b) posses normal levels of  annoying habits/intelligence/conversational skillz and c) I am doing something right in bed. I think the word “husband” is a title for ownership, though it may be true I like to refer to him as an individual and not my possession, and the word still feels funny rolling off my tongue. So I shall call him… Dan! (Superman theme music)

Dan is very cool, funny, smart, ambitious, handsome, etc… and we share a quiet life in a small college town. We are both seniors at the prestigious, Stephen F. Austin State University. (eye roll) Our lives are pretty much badass right now, we both have pathetic paying part time jobs and are full time students, so we spend a LOT of time together. We just finished “May-mester” a course that is only 2 weeks long, 4 hours of class time a day, 5 days a week. It has been tough forcing 23 chapters of material in 2 days and then expected to ace an exam, but I love it. The other day, I was zoned out  thinking of the course of events before class where Dan was bitching about the grueling, horrible, completely un-fair bullshit that is May-mester. I usually say nothing b/c he needs tobacco and coffee in heavy doses before he stops acting “chick-like” and I didn’t because we both know we have absolutely NOTHING to bitch about. We work sad 3 hours shifts, wake up at a respectable 9 am, and have money for beer. All these fabulous amenities and all I have to do is study??? Hells yes. 

On top of all that gloriousness I actually like all the crap those eager professors are feeding me. History of Furniture? Cannot wait. Genetic makeup of a fabric swatch? Oh gah, I’m giddy! There REALLY is a History of Hip-Hop course that practically brings me to O-Land thinking about the diversity of classmates I will encounter, a teacher that is in an eternal state of youth, and the coveted overpriced textbook. WTF kind of information will I be tested on? I do not know but you can bet your sweet ass that I am studying for that shiz.  

Graduation Day is December 12th, a day that feels like for-ev-er away, but when that magnificent day arrives my chest will be swelling with heaping loads of pride for a number of reasons. First, it will documented that I am not a fuk-tard. Two, I will be the first person in my family to receive a college degree and the 5th or 6th to receive a high school diploma. Heeeellllllllsssssss yea! You can be assured that my family will be THAT FAMILY hollering obnoxious cat calls so that the no one hears the next guy’s name and will in return encourage me to do the famous “I LUV YOU MOM!” cartwheels across the stage. Shoot, I wouldn’t put it pass my parents to spell out my name on their shirtless bellies at the ceremony. That’s real talk on family, yall.

As for a real job? Not really worrying about it, I will be on my high horse dwelling on the possibility that I could be the smartest. person. alive. College has left a satisfying aftertaste of utopia in my mouth leaving me inspired to shoot for the moon and head off to grad school. Why fix it if it aint broke? Career Student??? I think yes.


*** Interesting fact of the day*** Female crocodiles initiate mating, they pursue the biggest male. (damn right) Weird, thing to share with strangers on first encounter but I am watching Animal Planet and after 11 they apparently show croc porn.

2 responses to “Prepare to be amazed.

  1. hahaha love it

  2. I can already tell I’m going to really enjoy reading your blog. You are a very entertaining writer and I love your sense of humor.

Leave a Reply to Shuvuu Cancel reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s