Hi there and welcome. It seems like a lot of effort to reread my posts so they're all completely unedited and likely typo filled. Learn to love it. You're getting to read my unfiltered and shameless thoughts. Enjoy! -Avery SPACE
Well, Don Draper, I guess it’s about time we met.
It’s Grace Hopper’s 107th birthday today (thanks, google) so everyone should check out this badass. She paved the way for computer programmers and smashed down barriers holding back millions of women in science and technology.
In middle school, we did one of those fundraisers where you sell magazine subscriptions. They bribe you with points for prizes with different sales made. Most of those prizes are junky cheap things that somehow have the wow factor in a preteen’s eyes. Inflatable neon chair, plug in disco ball, mini fog machine. I can’t actually remember because I never bought those. I only had my eyes on one prize.
The Hershey bars. One point got you one Hershey bar. Easy peasy. But there’s a twist! Something like fifty points gets you a jumbo Hershey bar. The five pounder. Woah. What twelve year old can resist?
The sorta chunky nerd that has a one track mind for chocolate.
I checked the weight of an individual bar and did some quick math. It took less tickets to reach eighty ounces with the single bars than by going for the five pounder. Ha. Do they think we’d get tricked that easily?
So I happily went home one day with over five pounds worth of Hershey bars, feeling so incredibly smug like the pretentious know-it-all I was. And even more content with my decision to forever have a bit of a belly, as long as it’s filled with chocolate.
Oh and the Patriots pull off the win? This is getting silly. No complaints, though.
Leslie and Ben are meeting and Leslie is drunk and everything is perfect.
"I just talked to everybody at this bar and no one wants you here."
I definitely did not intend to go to the bar tonight. I still don’t think I’m old enough to go to bars. It’s odd. It’s also kind of sad and/or wonderful that ‘going to the bar’ for the SLU student can really only mean one place.
And this place - this will probably sound bizarre to those who didn’t go to college in a town with an Amish population - had free kegs tonight because the Outing Club donated a wooden owl statue carved with a chainsaw to the bar. So technically the administration was paying for booze.
But yeah. Weekend before finals week. Geology party. Greenhouse formal. Java. Dance showcases. A capella. Townhouse plans for the motherfucking Tick Tock. Aaand homework. That’s a thing too.
Oh and everyone posting about Mandela is reminding me how much I hate the phrase ‘rest in peace.’ That and of course RIP get so Halloweeny. You all can write more eloquently than that.
I was waiting for water to boil and saw a link to a “Which Love Actually Character Are You?” quiz on my Facebook so I went for it.
Taran Killam perfectly recreates Robyn’s Call Your Girlfriend.
Looking through old family pictures raises so many questions. But the main one has to be: Who on earth let me - a young girl of average height and weight - wear men’s XL clothing from ages 9 - 14? Add in the braces from 11 - 15 and the center part until junior year of high school, and my teenage beauty really shines through.