Can it Be Friday?

I really wanted to write yesterday but I couldn't justify spending any less time studying for my Poverty/Welfare final than I was already wasting.  I got sufficiently more work done while home this weekend than I thought I would which is a plus, but I wouldn't have done well on my exam if I didn't cram three straight hours of studying in today.  Granted, all the time I spent studying at home was definitely half assed.  I was cooped up in Tom's old room (it's the only room in the house where a laptop can pick up free wi-fi signal from surrounding houses) all the while my father is barging in and out with furniture from the living room.  He was making room for the Christmas tree...  The next time I tried studying I was with Jenna and Tim Horton's.  I don't know why we think we can not see each other for a week then get together to "study" and actually study.  It sounds like I'm insinuating something sexual but really we just have to fill each other up with details about our love life.  So I probably got twenty minutes of focus time, the minutes weren't even consecutive... within the 120 minutes we were there.  Thirdly, I was studying next to Connor in his room last night while he's learning to play a new song on his guitar.  Did I think his playing was going to be conducive to me retaining information from my notebook?  No.  Was it?  Absolutely not.  But it saved me some time today of organizing my materials.  Obviously the most productive time I spent studying was at the library in a little secluded cubby by myself.  HOW BORING AND PREDICTABLE.

I got the job I interviewed for on Saturday.  I'm quite pleased that I'll have something consistent to do over break, but it's going to blow if I have to work Christmas Eve and NYE etc.  (The job is a product of hiring holiday help at a department store that I'm not going to name because I don't want to lose the job I just got).  Don't people do that now though?  Type a new employees name in Google and find out all the dirty details of their life?  Or do I spend too much time watching Dateline?
I have to see how long I can go without telling my dad I got a job up at the mall.  He doesn't let Mackenzie or I drive up to the mall in rain or snow, or at night usually.  He'd probably prefer we don't drive there at all...too much traffic and stimulation for us to handle.
I can't believe he's the same man who I went to the bars with on Saturday where he like feeds me alcohol to no end.  So yes my parents and Connor and I went to the bar to see Tom (brother) play a show.  I love going downtown with my parents and they are definitely more embarrassed by me than I am of them.

I lost the $50 dollar bet my mom made me 2 months ago about not dying my hair until graduation.  Jenna's mom dyed it back to my natural color on Saturday.  I'm going to try to keep it for a while because I like it.  And it's the normal-est my hair has been since middle school.  Which makes it extremely not normal for me.

Dad: "Will you pull out for me?"  (he was talking about my car parked in the driveway)

Me: "That's what she said."

Mack: "Ew, you just said that to dad."

Me: "You're right.  That's gross."

Dad: "Wait.  She said what? Just pull it out."

*cringe*

I'm seriously never making jokes at home ever again they fail terribly.

xxxx

A

I Didn't Talk to You in H.S. but "HEY WHAT'S UP!?"

Wow wow wow.  Thanksgiving break is flying by which is so unfortunate because it has been lovely thus far.  I'm trying to look at it like if it was the start of a weekend I'd be pumped because it's only Friday night and I still have Saturday and Sunday.  Very upset that we have classes on Monday because in PA a lot of schools get off for the start of hunting season.  I'm not sure if that's the exact reasoning behind it, that's just what father used to tell me.  It's actually snowing though which I thought I wanted until I had to walk outside in my oxfords and small leather jacket because I was completely unprepared.  Furthermore, driving with Connor is his car was not good because he only has one working windshield wiper.  And the working one is on the passenger side.  Don't worry though guys, my dad would still prefer me with him driving in a car like that than having me drive my car with two working wipers.  Although he's treating his daughters equally which is refreshing because I received this text message from Mack about an hour after it started to snow.

"The fact that dad is picking up my friend and taking us to my other friends house is ridic[ulous] am I in 6th grade?"

No, she is not in 6th grade.  Dad just likes males behind the wheel; we must not take it personally.  I just find it funny because he is so adamant about this and nothing else.  Like, is this really the same man who quotes Sheldon from "The Big Bang Theory"?  The same man who tried to convince me to set free all of my pets at Presque Isle, despite it being most definitely illegal?  Could have fooled me.

The festivities of Wednesday night down town were a success, if you call seeing every high school peer you've ever known a success.  Seriously though, it felt like it was the unofficial reunion.  The peers of my graduation class are either all on their way to being raging alcoholics or we just went a little crazy because it was the first Thanksgiving we can drink our way to the feast.  It's just funny because I said hi to so many people I probably would try to avoid in any other public setting despite a bar.  Not because  I don't like them, just because it's easier sometimes.  It's easier than throwing around a bunch of formalities and pretending we can fit in talking about our last four years into a three minute conversation standing in the cereal aisle.  That may sound rude but I know everyone feels the same, thus we will all quickly veer into a different aisle at Wegman's when we see each other.  The bars are a free for all.  It was awesome.  There are loads of formalities but everyone is so much more enthusiastic about the answers.

xxxx
A

If I Hitch Hike, Would That Make You Love Me?

Fall break!  Before you get too excited, we get Friday off.  How can they even call it a legitimate "break", I have no idea.  One day off is what we call an observed holiday.  I only have one class on Thursdays though and 95% of the class is indeed not going and I'm fairly certain my teacher would make fun of us if we didn't not go.  So I drove home today after my fourth class of the day, in the rain obviously, and my dad was there waiting for me with an angry stance in the doorway.  I kid you not, this man would rather have me be a lazy pothead who sells my body for services as opposed to an ambitious daughter who drives home to come see her family and friends on break from her collegiate institution.  Sorry you can't afford to have a driver who accompanies me to the locations I desire.

Dad: "You know, I have a friend who doesn't even let his daughter drive on I-90 and she's the same age as you.  Maybe I should start enforcing that."

 Ali: "I bet if she was a boy it'd be irrelevant.  Do you think if she was a boy he would still have that rule?"

*me staring him down for an answer*

Ali: "DAD! ANSWER ME!"

*proceeds to wait for a commercial, he's big into "The Big Bang Theory"...*

Dad: "That's a stupid question.  She's not a boy."

Ali: "OH MY GOD. YOU KNOW if she had a penis she'd be allowed."

And, the silent treatment that he decided to give me is also known as a sign of defeat for him and success for me.  Although I don't know what I succeeded in. I really only further uncovered that my dad thinks because I have a vagina I'm more dangerous on the road and it somehow impairs my ability to be a safe driver.  Weird, because I only had ONE incident today where I felt I was not 100% focused on my driving.  I had a family-size box of Reese Puff's in between my lap and I was trying to determine if the peanut butter colored puffs tasted like PB Captain Crunch and the dark puffs were really just Cocoa Puffs.  I have no conclusive results however I did drop the box and spilled a large portion under my seat.  Hence the one incident that distracted my driving.  Mack is going to kill me because she hates messy cars and messy purses.  The car I take to school is looking more like my closet/desk everyday, and I don't think I have one purse that doesn't have strange crumbs or wrappers in at least one pocket.  However, she certainly has no problem borrowing my clothes.  Betch.
xxxx
A

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fun Without Your Clothes Off

I have lied to my parents.  The secret is out.  They know.  I know. My whole family knows. They are amazing parents and have done few things that I would consider doing differently with my own kids someday.  The lying I have done was still necessary and has now made me realize that no matter how great of a parent I am someday, my kids are going to lie to me and it'll piss me off anyways.
Example 
I don't know what my dad's deal is.  He has never been concerned about alcohol consumption, drug usage or premarital sex (it's actually kind of strange his lack of concern over any of these) the way he is when a woman, particularly either of his daughters, drive a vehicle.*  He has been known to give me a terribly hard time even driving to my friends Jenna and Leah's house.  They live twenty minutes away.  If you walk...

I love him dearly, but sometimes I do have to get to places when it's dark out.  I may have to drive when it starts to rain.  And just because there is snow on the ground does not mean I'm going to be the one who hits a patch of ice that is unavoidable.  For instance, I was just getting ready to head back to Erie today for the weekend when I noticed it started to rain.  No, like straight downpour.  Awesome.  The first twenty minutes of my drive all I can think about is how furious my dad is going to be if he calls me because he knows I'm on the road and he follows local weather better than I follow the clearance page on the Urban Outfitters site.  Maybe he would be less concerned if he had me drive something other than this little 90's Corolla that feels more like a go-kart than a vehicle with wipers that make seeing more difficult at times.  I'm sorry to the Jeep from Illinois that was stuck behind me in the construction zone but I'd rather go 55 than graze the cement barrier next to us.  If my dad were to call, which he usually does at very inopportune times, I had scripted, "Yeah Dad. No I know it's supposed to rain for a while.  I've been monitoring the weather radar and I'm leaving at 6 when the rain stops, that way I'll even miss rush hour."

I arrive home safely, didn't have a minute of my drive sans rain.
My father says, clearly disgruntled, "You drove through all that rain, didn't you.  Your mother told me you were coming home at seven."
I owe you one, Mom.  

*He's not an anti-feminist who doesn't think women should drive.  Just not his daughters.

Ailments Unworthy of Song

I pride myself on my immune system.  I eat healthy to stay healthy and workout (on scattered routine).  My mother always tells me how I was the healthiest baby out of the four of us (suck it, sibs) and rarely got sick growing up.  Of course, there are some ailments and diseases that don't care whether you live a healthy lifestyle or not, cancer being one.  This past weekend I was reading about the Stand Up 2 Cancer benefit concert that took place Friday night.  Taylor Swift (shocker) was one of the performers and she sang a song dedicated to the family of Ronan.  Ronan was 3 when he passed away from cancer, and his mom created a website in his name which Swift followed and ultimately wrote a song about him.  I find it amazing that such an awful and somber story created such a beautiful song.

After watching the clip of her performance, I thought about this past year and how I probably confronted more health issues than ever before.  Luckily, thanks to current day antibiotics my infections were pussies in comparison to any serious disease, and super lame.  The week before Spring Break 2012 I got the bacterial version of pink eye.  In other words, a gross swollen leaky crusty left eye.  My epidemiological background (close to none) tells me I may have gotten that from a public gym.
In June, Connor (boyfriend) and I went to Presque Isle and went on a walk in the woods because we can't be conventional and walk on the beach, and I SUSPECT it was there I was bitten by a Brown Recluse Spider.  Based on further research from the Urgicare Center and Google Images, it's to be said the bite on my upper thigh got infected and a nasty ass crater formed and ultimately left a scar that my dad makes me hike up my dress to show uncles at family weddings for.  My mother is forever ashamed of this practice.

Finally, my last week of summer was tarnished by a urinary tract infection (UTI).  Pissin' fire.  Public health perspective: These can be contracted through multiple means.  Dad's perspective: "That's from having a lot of sex, right?"  To Tom (brother):  Mom told me you were in the room at time of those said words, my sincerest apologies.

Feel free to write a song off this nasty shit, but I'm thankful that the issues aren't severe enough to be song-worthy.

*knock on wood* 
xxxx
A