Listen people, I'm going to be very blunt in this blog. I don't care if you don't like it, I think you're reading this anyhoo. So hush up.
Mostly, I lead a wonderfully average existence. I've worked with good people and bad people, I've had lovers and haters, but most of all I've had friends and family.
(I should be studying right now.)
Anyways, I suppose I should give a thirty-second biography and end with an anecdote. Viola~!
BIO:
-Purdue University BS Aviation Management Air Traffic Control
-Spelling issues
-Anglophile
-Doctor Who?
-Fluffy things
-Fabulous
-Waycross
-Should be doing homework.
ANECDOTE:
So if you know me you know my life is boring, it's the people around me that add the color. In this case, the person who's coloring my life (a horrible dreary dark red and black, by the way) is my Management professor. She is a Nazi or a Stalin-esque communist or possibly a blonde, skinny Kim Jong Il disguise. I have no idea. But the woman is strict as biscuits.
Anyhooo, on to the story.
First off, who makes a seating chart for a class of 200 people? Stalin Jong Hitler, that's who. She then goes on to say that she will not tolerate laptops and phones on in her class. (This is fine, I always wanted to be Amish) and she says she can tell if you're on a laptop or phone.
So can I, it's called using your freaking eyes, lady.
Anyways, Private Detective Stalin Jong Hitler says she can tell just by people smiling. "I'm not a funny person, so if you're smiling, you're wrong." Well, biscuits, lady I thought all accountants were just a laugh-riot! Cheese, just sitting and crunching numbers all day?! It's like Whose Line is it Anyways gave birth to Chris Rock!
So I turn to my Asian comrade sitting next to me and ask her how she thinks the United Nations would react to Managementstan having nuclear weapons, when Stalin Jong Hitler says she has supersonic hearing.
I really hope she didn't hear the very unladylike curse I let fly at that. I'm assuming she didn't because my professionalism grade in that class remains unaltered.
By the time I escaped my rabbit hole with my life, I was thinking about this unfortunate college professor, but then I realized something.
She has a husband.
This gives me hope. At least I have a sense of humor.
Moral of this story: If Stalin Jong Hitler can have romantic relations, SO CAN YOU.
