Lights, All Is Light

I'm sitting on my bed in my room, and it's glowing with a thousand small, flickering lights. It reminds me of the narrator in the book Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison. He lives underground, but his compartment is full of light. 1,369 lights, to be exact, "Light confirms my reality, gives birth to my form." Even though he recognized his social invisibility, he realized that, "Without light, I am not only invisible, but formless as well; and to be unaware of one's form is to live a death." Light illuminates and separates. It gives contour and embodiment to all things and sets them apart from each other, just as the lights in my room separate me from my books, my bed, my clothes. I am not them, I am me. I am a product of light.

Ah, the Eggnog

Christmas this year was pretty cool. I got a lot of the things I asked for, and my family got along peaceably, for the most part. My grandmother still interrupted everyone when they were halfway through a sentence, but that's pretty normal and we're all used to it. But the one thing that did not go well was something I've been looking forward to all year -- Uncle Bob's eggnog. We had passed the point of dessert and were playing "20 Questions" around the kitchen table. It was as if a ray of light shown from the sky when Uncle Bob brought out the mixer and began to make his secret, alcohol-infused, nectar of the gods. My mouth watered, and I nearly tripped on my way, cup outstretched, to hover over his shoulder till he was done. He gave me a good-sized scoop of the frothy liquid, and I greedily took my cup back to my seat at the table and took my first sip. It was creamy and delicious -- then I swallowed. A wave of nausea washed over me as I had a flashback to this year's Halloween. The aftertaste of the eggnog reminded me of the vodka I had consumed in copious amounts and spent the next day and a half recovering from. Even now, two months later, the taste of liquor makes me [almost] violently sick. I nearly cried as I pushed the best part of Christmas away from me and towards my cousin (who had already drained one cup). Then I retreated to the living room for the rest of the night to sulk and watch one of the most boring pastimes known to English majors--an MBA basketball game. At least I won the game of 20 Questions. I was Genghis Khan. 

BEWARE: CRAZED XMAS SHOPPERS

Christmas shoppers are vicious. Don't let the Santa sweaters and cheery atmosphere of shopping centers fool you. Today I made the mistake of going last-minute shopping, and my car was nearly hit at least 3 times whilst trying to find a parking spot. I had to wait behind that one annoying car that HAS to have a close parking spot so they sit in the middle of the road for 5 minutes with their turn signal on, waiting for an already-parked car to leave. Then, when I was getting ready to leave the over-crowded store, a very serious shopper wearing "mom jeans" almost ran me over with her shopping cart because she didn't want me to get in front of her in the check-out line (even though I had three times less the amount of merchandise that she had). Thank heavens I'm finally done with my shopping. Now all I have to do is sit on the couch, drink coffee, and eat gingerbread men until Christmas gets here.

"The stars, the moon, they've all been blown out"

My new favorite song is "Cosmic Love" by Florence and the Machine. It sounds like the universe, if celestial bodies could sing. 

A falling star fell from your heart and landed in my eyes

I screamed aloud, as it tore through them, and now it's left me blind
The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out
You left me in the dark
No dawn, no day, I'm always in this twilight
In the shadow of your heart
And in the dark, I can hear your heartbeat
I tried to find the sound
But then it stopped, and I was in the darkness,
So darkness I became
The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out
You left me in the dark
No dawn, no day, I'm always in this twilight
In the shadow of your heart
I took the stars from our eyes, and then I made a map
And knew that somehow I could find my way back
Then I heard your heart beating, you were in the darkness too
So I stayed in the darkness with you

The Songs That We Sing

Do certain songs remind you of a particular person, event, season, or time in your life? It happens to me all the time. It's like the songs tell the story of my life, but only I know what they represent or how to interpret them. They are a diary that doesn't need a lock or key. It's winter now, around Christmas time, and these are the bands I'm currently listening to: Iron&Wine, Interpol, Mew, Florence and the Machine, and Matt Costa. Every time I listen to them, they develop new significance, and it's like a new page is written in the diary of my life.

Snow Monster

Every child's winter fantasy came true yesterday. . . IT SNOWED. Exciting, yes? Snow is so sparkly and soft, and it makes that great crunchy/squeaky sound when you step on it. But yesterday, its timing was just terrible.

I thought I'd make an attempt at being healthy (since I'm on winter break from school, and I have no excuse not to), so I went running. One mile into it, I got caught in the blizzard. Then I had to trek through the blinding whiteness all the way back to my house, a mile away, against the way the snow was blowing. Also, I was wearing glasses, so I had to keep wiping the wet off them so I wouldn't run into an unsuspecting mailbox, tree, or perhaps car. When I finally got back to the house, I had to resuscitate my poor ipod, who's not used to the frigid winter climate of North Carolina. Then I had to save my nose,  because I couldn't feel it. Needless to say, I don't think I'll be exercising outside anytime soon. Or ever. . .

Ye Olde Piece of Shit

Today I was awakened by the musical sound of my brother's car's horn going off. His car is a bit of a clunker, and the horn randomly decides to make itself heard (usually in the wee hours of the morning), and it doesn't stop until someone manually shakes the steering wheel for a good ten seconds. But I don't even care, cos it's supposed to snow today!

Weird Dream

I had the weirdest dream last night. It was like a Pride & Prejudice, Legends of the Fall, and a Cuban drug run hybrid. Where did that come from? If my subconscious was trying to tell me something, it sadly missed the mark. Where do dreams come from anyways? Ok, I WAS thinking about Pride & Prejudice a little bit yesterday, but I was most certainly not thinking anything about Cuban drug runs or Legends of the Fall. Is my psyche telling me I have a future in drug trafficking or a twisted romance in the backwoods of Montana?

At least it wasn't the dream I had last week after I watched the movie 28 Days Later. I'm NEVER making that mistake again. In my dream I was running through the English countryside at break-neck speed, and I couldn't tell what I was running from, but I knew I couldn't stop and I was very scared. Jim (from the movie) wasn't even in there--what a ripoff.

This was my day today, and it was beautiful:

Oh the Questions

Why do hands get wrinkly after they've been in water too long?

Why does soap always lather white even if it was originally a bright color?

If you can be "overwhelmed" and "underwhelmed," can you ever be just "whelmed"? 

Are eyebrows considered facial hair?

How are the personality traits of the zodiac signs determined?

Do people yawn while they're asleep?

Why are round pizzas served in square boxes?

Coffee, Books, and a Muffin

Studies have shown that people feel more congenial with a hot drink in their hands. I totally, 100% agree. Give me a cup of coffee, and I'll be happy for the rest of the day. . .not to mention a bit hyper. Add a pumpkin muffin and a good book on the side, and I'll be set for life.

SCHOOL IS OVER. . . until January

Winter Break is here, and I've made a list of to-do things:

1) Read at least 3 books

2) Make a quilt for Quilts for Kids

3) Re-paint my bathroom

4) Make gingerbread men

5) Become a Zen master

6) Clean my room (it's pretty gross)

7) Invent a new color

8) Write a letter to the Queen (or some other such boring famous person)

9) Be able to distinguish every flavor of Jelly Belly jelly beans while blindfolded

10) Take a road trip

I think they're pretty reasonable expectations for a 1 1/2 month break.

Spotted: the Perfect Man

Today I was on the Park&Ride, headed back to my car after the longest Italian exam EVER. I don't usually ride the bus that late (5:45ish P.M.), but it's Finals week at UNCG, and class times are all messed up. There were about five people on the bus after the last stop, and one of them happened to be the most perfect man I've ever encountered. He was Academia in human form, and I almost went over to ask him to impart on me some words of wisdom, and perhaps a marriage proposal. But alas, I had to satisfy myself with taking a picture using my extremely loud (and a bit embarrassing) camera phone.

Poly--graph

Some of the most interesting conversations happen in coffee shops. Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, I have coffee at Tate St. Coffee with my friends Lauren, Missy, and [sometimes] Caroline. Today the main topic of our discussion was polyamorous relationships (having full-on relationships with multiple people at one time). I've included the diagram Lauren drew to illustrate the particular people she was talking about. Let me explain: person M is dating person C, and they live together (person M is the only male in this instance). Person C is also dating person L (who happens to be my T.A. in one of the classes I'm taking this semester). Person L is dating persons C and A but NOT person M. Person A is dating persons L and "?". And finally, person "?" is dating persons A and "??". To add a twist, person "??" does not know that "?" is dating A. It's very confusing, and I wouldn't be surprised if these types of relationships are prone to STD's.

Winter Clothes

I love cold weather. The air smells so clean and fresh, colors seem sharper, and I don't have to worry about my hair frizzing because of the humidity. But the one downside of it, is that it takes FOREVER to put on all the clothes needed to go outdoors. It's especially annoying when I have to change buildings between classes. Coat, gloves, scarf, [optional] hat, and possibly some boots. I take long enough getting ready as it is, without the added encumbrance of so many clothes. Sometimes I feel like the younger brother in A Christmas Story who wears the snow suit and complains, "I can't put my arms down!"

"Hear" Me Out

Is it weird to envy people who have cute ears? 

Before you start judging me as a freak, hear me out (no pun intended). Ears are so delicate and intricate, and no two people have the same ears. They're an important part of the body, without which, a person wouldn't feel whole, or experience life fully . Ears are also part of the face, which means they are a prominent feature and are therefore noticed often. Why should admiring someone's ears be considered bizarre in comparison to admiring someone's eyes?

BREAKFAST

"Breakfast is the most important meal of the day"--everyone has heard that from their mom at some point in time. Well, I'm prepared to agree with all the moms, now that I've discovered yogurt and granola. You wouldn't think that something so healthy and light could be so filling and delicious! Every morning I wake up, take a shower, then eat yogurt with granola in it and drink a cup of coffee while checking my favorite blogs before I face the real world and head to school. It's the perfect start to the day.

Adam: Statement of the Day

This year I'm spending Thanksgiving in Pennsylvania with some of my cousins. The very same cousins, in fact, that Adam and Judah belong to. Today was my first day here, and Adam has already made at least two epic statements:

1) Jenni: "Adam, why are you putting all your toys in the pantry?"

    Adam: "To keep them safe."

2)Tyler: "Hey Adam, can you bring me a pillow?"

   Adam: "No! A chair!" *brandishing a small plastic chair*

 Later in the trip:

Just after climbing out of the bathtub, Adam started climbing up on the cabinet wanting to see himself in the mirror saying "I want to see my gorgeous hairdo."

Money on the Ground

Today I was walking to class after getting coffee with a friend, and I saw a quarter on the ground. My first impulse was to pick the quarter up, but instead, I kept on walking. Even though I didn't stop, I found myself wanting to go back and get the quarter, and I kept thinking about it. Why did I want it? It's not like I could buy anything with just a quarter. I'm not starving, I have my own money. Is $0.25 that important?

Then I thought, could it have something to do with the Capitalist, materialistic culture that is America? The congenital desire that's cultivated in us from birth to accumulate all we can in this life, where "nothing is ever enough." It's so pervasive of how we're taught to think and act, that it affects the smallest things like picking a quarter up off the ground and putting it in our pockets.

Blogging, Bloggers, Blogs

Reading other people's blogs is so inspiring to me. It makes me want to write more, improve my techniques, and have a more entertaining life so I'll have something interesting to write about that people would actually want to read.

Epic Day

Today was a little overwhelming. First of all, I got a job writing for my university's newspaper (yay me!). Secondly, I had to go to court (boooo).

Two months ago, in September, I was driving down Lee Street on my way to school. A state trooper got behind me in order to pass an extremely slow school bus and then turned his blue lights on. WTF, right? I wasn't speeding, had my seat belt on, and even used my directional when switching lanes (I don't usually do that). He pulled me over and gave me a ticket for driving with an expired car registration. My dad usually takes care of that for me, so I had no idea it had expired in April (whoops). Today was my court date, and I had to go present my renewed registration to the D.A. in order to get the charges dropped. 

I had no clue where the court house was, so I got lost and had to call one of my friends for directions. Then, when I went through the security at the courthouse door, there were some problems. I thought they were going to strip-search me or something because of how many times they had to check and re-check my purse. Ipod--check, phone--check, nail clippers--check, bottle of vitamins (?) --check, and oh yes--ipod headphones. They couldn't just look at those things all at once. No, they had to make a separate trip for each thing. I thought I was gonna miss my appearance with the judge, they took so long.

After the painfully long security inspection, I had to find the right courtroom. Room 1A had a line outside it that was long enough to be a paradigm of the small intestines. After everyone was ushered into the courtroom, we were given basic instructions, and left to sit for the next two hours until our name was called. The D.A. said that if a phone went off, it would be confiscated and would not be returned to the owner. Also, we were not allowed  to talk. 

After an hour and a half, the monotony of staring at the clock was interrupted. The D.A. was talking to a person with long dreadlocks, and she looked very angry. Apparently, the person in question smacked his gum a little too loudly, and when the D.A. told him to stop, he did it again. He was escorted from the courtroom by the bailiff, and the D.A. told us that the man was going to jail. I guess he should've chewed his gum more quietly. The woman sitting next to me turned and said, "That was a man?" He was a bit effeminate, I'll admit.

All in all, my own experience in court was boring. I showed the D.A. my car registration, and my case was dismissed. BUT I GOT TO SEE SOMEONE PUT IN THE SLAMMER. Hell Yes.

The Adventures of Adam and Judah

My cousin, Jenni, has two boys--Adam and Judah. Adam is almost 3 and Judah is 1. They are CRAYZAY. And super cute. They do the funniest things, especially Adam. The following are accounts of things they have done/said recently:

Adam: "Daddy's at High school." 

Jenni: "Oh really? What's he doing there?" 

A: "No, he's at college." 

Jenni: "Who else is at college?" 

A: "Miss Trish and Miss Jessica." 

Jenni: "What are they doing there?" 

A: "Getting groceries." 

Another time, Jenni was doing housework and realized she didn't hear the boys--which usually means they are up to no good. She went into the kitchen where Adam and Judah were sitting on the floor. They had an entire Costco-sized package of muffins out, taking one bite apiece out of each muffin, and putting them in a pile. They were making muffin mountains.

 Adam fell and got a boo boo. As soon as his crying calmed down, he looked at Jenni and told her that a hot dog with ketchup and mustard on it would make his boo boo feel better.

Jenni: "What ya diggin for?"

Adam: "Boogies."

(That's what most of their conversations are like.)

Bad Habit

Earlier in the history of this blog, I wrote about Scott and his jeans. Well, I have now developed the terrible habit of taking pictures around campus of people whose pants are shorter than the acceptable length--according to my opinion. I have become quite good at the point-and-shoot-without-them-seeing-you angle. Unfortunately, since I use my phone for this, and the fact that people are usually walking, means that the pictures are not of good quality. But I'm pretty sure that there aren't a lot of people with this elite hobby, so I feel a little better about my photography skills.

CoffeeCoffeeCoffee

Back in the summer, I went to a movie with my friend, Katherine. Before it, we stopped at a Starbucks to get some coffee (everything should involve coffee). To sneak our delicious beverages into the theater, I put both cups, upright, into my purse to keep them from spilling. However,  I didn't account for the jostling that would take place between my car and our seats inside. When we sat down to wait for the movie, I reached into my purse to get the two cups, and realized there was a pond in the bottom of my purse. My entire mocha latte had spilled inside my favorite brown leather purse. Not only was my purse ruined, but all of the contents in it were as well. To make matters worse, when i bent over to clean up the mess, my pants ripped in the back (at the top of my thigh, right under my butt). I had to walk around with my jacket tied around my waist like a homeschooler from the nineties, with my leaking purse in tow.

Today when I was at a coffee shop with my friends, Lauren and Missy, we all had our day-planners out on the table while we did homework. They all had coffee stains on them. Ah, the true bonds of friendship.

Bright Rainy Day

Today it rained. A lot. Thankfully, I was prepared and wore my black and white polka-dot rain boots. I rocked some purple tights, a green skirt, black shirt, and a grey and white checked scarf. In addition, in my own little attempt at irony, I wore a pair of black Wayfarer sunglasses pushed back on the top of my head.

So, all day I walked around campus wearing this ridiculously bright and Peter Pan-ish outfit, plus having a bright yellow purse, purple book bag, and purple umbrella. Perhaps I more resembled Barney? Needless to say, I got a lot of weird looks (I get the same reaction to my dancing--I'm a rotten dancer). My best friend told me that I brightened people's day today--literally.

Dear Scott, Your Jeans Are Too Short

I'm sorry to say it, but every winter, the too-short-jeans epidemic hits UNCG.
I've had several classes with a guy named Scott. Scott is brilliant and was tutoring Philosophy his first semester Freshman year. He's one of those people that makes you skittish to speak up in class because anything you say will sound like a Sesame Street conversation compared to his eloquent dissertations. 

Scott's usual attire consists of Chuck Taylor's, jeans, and some sort of plaid flannel shirt.This semester, he began dating a nice girl named Emily, and they sit in front of me in our ENG 352: The 20th-Century American Novel class. I wouldn't have taken so much note of Scott and Emily, if it wasn't for their inappropriate displays of public affection. They sit in the center of the front row, and they may as well occupy only one seat instead of two. They're always whispering to each other, playing footsy, and generally making me feel nauseous. Don't get me wrong, it's great that they have such a. . . close. . .relationship. I'd just rather that they practiced their "closeness" somewhere I did not have to watch it.

Because the three of us (Scott, Emily, and I) have been spending so much quality time sitting in class together recently, I've begun to notice something amiss about Scott's choice of wardrobe--his jeans are far too short. Maybe he likes the ventilation? Perhaps he's very proud of his shoes, and wants everyone to take special note of them? Or, my least favorite supposition, he just hasn't noticed? Who knows. Whatever the reason may be, not only do I have to watch Scott and Emily exchange dreamy looks and talk with their lips smushed together, but now I have to sit in class knowing that when Scott stands up, his pants will be an inch above the tops of his Chuck Taylor's. 

Sometimes I wish the Fashion Police really existed.

Her Tree Leaves

I was on the Park and Ride this morning, on my way to class. Going down Spring Garden St., the bus passed a certain tree right when the wind blew, and seemingly hundreds of reddish-brown leaves fluttered to the ground. It was beautiful to watch, and I wondered how so many could fall out of the tree without it looking as though it hadn't lost a single one. And yet, it was sad. Autumn is my favorite season, but it's also incredibly short. The vibrant colors of changing leaves are too soon replaced with naked tree limbs--leaving the remaining branches looking cold and despondent. Because of the brevity of Fall, I suppose I am more conscious in my appreciation of it, but my deep-felt appreciation for its beauty makes its loss that much more poignant. Could it be God's way of making us anticipate Spring?

Peace and Carrots

Tomorrow morning, my family will be leaving for a week-long vacation in New York while my eldest younger brother, Tyler, and I are remaining here. Tyler will stay with our grandmother, and I will be by my lonesome at home. Ahhh perfection. I think I'll spend my Friday night relaxing in the peace and quiet of our home, since my 6 and 4 year old sister and brother usually make tranquility impossible. A bubble bath, junk food, and the movie Anne of Green Gables will probably be involved in my girl's night in. 

I recently renewed my affection for said movie and have been watching it in increments while ironing and folding laundry, etc... for the past three weeks. I forgot how ridiculously melodramatic yet strangely endearing Anne Shirley is, and I think I rewound the movie three times at the part where Gilbert calls Anne "Carrots" (because of her red hair), and she breaks her slate over his head. Soooooo funny! It's a must-see. . .or perhaps, a must-re-see.

This is Halloween!

It is approaching one of my very favorite holidays--Halloween. Here are some reasons why it is my favorite:

1) It's in the Fall (my favorite season)

2) You can dress up and be anyone you want for a night

3) CANDY! (esp. the little candy-corn pumpkins)
4) Pumpkin carving

5) Hot apple cider (possibly with Captain Morgan's in it)

6) Corn mazes 

7) Thirteen Days of Halloween on ABC family

8) Time to watch The Nightmare Before Christmas and Young Frankenstein

9) Lots of great parties

10) Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Winter Break are all right around the corner

SWAN FLU

Ahhh curses, I have a cold. Perhaps the dread SWAN FLU? Yes, the spelling was intentionally "swan" instead of "swine," mainly because swans are much prettier than swine. However, I also like to say things in a ridiculous Southern accent when I'm having a mood, and I spelled "swine" phonetically to be as I said it in my head. Sometimes, for variety, I'll use a British accent. It makes me sound very posh and aristocratic.

As you can tell, I get a bit loopy when I'm sick. Time to go overdose on some Vitamin-C now.

Birthday Piercings

Today was my birthday, and I am now 20 years old. One more year until I can buy alcohol legally. I got a microwave, a scarf, Starbucks gift cards, and two toasters. Oh, and as a present to myself, I got my nose pierced.

My dear friend Lauren went with me for moral support and to get an industrial put in her ear (for those of you who don't know, an industrial is a metal bar that goes through two places in the upper part of your ear). When we walked into the tattoo parlor, we were greeted by the friendly personnel that worked there. Each one had body art covering nearly every inch of their exposed skin, which made the experience feel that much more authentic. One guy asked us what we would like done, and Lauren very energetically said, "We'd like you to put some holes in our bodies." They liked that response very much. So they photocopied our ID's, charged us a ridiculously large sum of money, and marched us back to a tiny room with a black curtain covering the doorway.

Lauren was the first to go. The guy who was doing the piercing was a nice man named Tuna. He explained the necessary procedures for pre- and post-piercing. He made Lauren lie down on her side, take a few deep breaths, and then he shoved the bar through her ear. She sat up and said she felt a little dizzy, so I went to get her a cup of water. When I got back, Tuna was holding Lauren's shoulders, and she was having convulsions. Her face was ashen, and her lips had lost all color. Needless to say, this was a bit alarming, but as it turns out, Lauren had merely passed out, and Tuna had the situation under control. He gave Lauren a glucose tablet and I made a couple more trips to the water fountain. When she was able to stand up, it was my turn.

Getting my nose pierced was not nearly as dramatic or traumatizing as Lauren's experience, but it definitely hurt--even more than my tattoo had (I had gotten said tattoo Spring Break of my freshman year of college).Tuna put an ink dot on the right side of my nose to show where the piercing would be, then told me to take a few deep breaths. He put a cork-looking-thing up the inside of my nose and shoved something metal and pointy into it from the outside of my nose. My right eye watered, and my face screwed up into an expression of disapproval. Then he pulled the nose ring through the hole, and voilà!

Of course, when my father saw my newest piercing, he frowned and shook his head, saying, "Didn't you already have enough holes in your body?" He now refers to it as my "metal booger." Thanks Dad.

Your mission, should you choose to accept it. . .

I am a college student, and being such, means I have to sit through hours and hours of boring classes every day. I've gotten pretty good at staring at the other students in my classes, and I've noticed one thing they all have in common--they look hilarious when they yawn. So today while you're on the bus, in a business meeting, or just bored in class, watch the faces of people around you when they yawn. You may get a chuckle out of the flared nostrils and contorted expressions, or if nothing else, it will distract you from the monotony of everyday life.

Need Money for Food

I have 3 newly discovered fashion obsessions: large square scarves, TOMS shoes, and wayfarer sunglasses. Put them together, and they equal a hipster me plus an empty bank account. Ergo, I'm trying to think of creative ways to earn some extra cash. Here's what I've come up with:

1) become a surrogate mother

2) offer myself as a medical guinea pig

3) sell my hair on the internet to an overseas country

4) get a boyfriend who has a trust fund

So far, no luck. . .go figure.

The Beatles-crazed Theater Professor

My friend, Lauren, is a theater major, and everywhere we go on campus, she runs into people she knows. Theater majors all know each other and are very outgoing but rather awkward in the way they communicate to each other. For instance, instead of saying "hello," one guy threw a paper airplane at us. He then snatched a comfy chair from the coffee shop we were in and bolted outside with it (I guess the patio furniture was not to his liking).

Today at the coffee shop with Lauren, I met her adviser. Lorraine was in her sixties, had short grey hair, and wore Ray-Ban glasses. She was very friendly, and as soon as Lauren introduced us, she grabbed both of my arms, shook me in her barely-contained excitement, and said with fervor, "I love your shirt! I met them when I was eleven!" I was wearing a black t-shirt with white lettering that read THE BEATLES.
Lorraine had saved all her allowance to buy tickets but only had $5.50. This being the case, she wrote a letter (to somebody) about how she really wanted to see the Beatles but didn't have enough money, and could she get a ticket anyways? As it happened, there was to be a radio contest giving away free tickets. They fixed the contest so she would get them, and off she went to see her favorite band.

Years later, she saw them in concert again and held up a sign saying something like "Contest Winner [year it happened]." George Harrison saw it, motioned to Paul McCartney, and they both waved to her in recognition. Lauren's theater professor, aficionada, and woman who shook me like a rag doll within the first 30 seconds of meeting me.

HOLDING HANDS LEADS TO BABIES

 --WARNING--

HOLDING HANDS LEADS TO BABIES...

This is the correlation I made after the following:

I was sitting on the couch in my best friend's apartment, and I asked if I could borrow her chapstick. My best friend's boyfriend informed me that you should not share chapstick because it's the same as kissing. However, after much deliberation and research (not really), I came to the conclusion that there is a reason why my bff's boyfriend is an economics major instead of something science-related.

The heretofore mentioned boyfriend also reminded me of a camp I attended in junior high, where the counselors told us: "If you have to hold someone's hand, hold your own." This was very wise counsel, considering it would be pretty hard to have a baby when you're holding your own hand. Hmm...asexual reproduction, anyone? Heaven help the American Education System.