70th Post: Boobie Day!

So, my neighbor upstairs is apparently into Goyte. She was playing/singing/performing karaoke to "Someone That I Used to Know."

Someone I used to know was "Quiet," and "Silence," and "Shut the fuck up, you sound terrible."

I guess that is the price you pay when you are way too poor to rent a house.

In other news, at the end of this post, I am going to talk about boobies. But before I get there, I am going to first write about other, more mundane, and certainly not as amazing, things.

The first would be that I have an english class in which I have exactly two assignments. I have to have between the two papers 25 pages. Fearing that I would not be able to fulfill this requirement, I began writing a story that I thought I would have to really work on to eek out that 12 1/2 page marker I was hoping to make. I started writing, got going... and had not even really started the story but had 17 pages. Thank you NaNoWriMo for making me able to expound on every little detail I could possible expound on. While it makes hitting the 50,000 word mark far easier than expected, it doesn't really help when I know that everyone else in the class will have to read my work and they are dredging through a hundred and fifteen pages. Especially considering that my character is blind, so I am missing a whole sense to even write about.

Next on my list: My grandpa has been in and out of the hospital since last week. Sure, he is eighty-nine, but if it is his time to go, I really don't want him to suffer. I would rather it be peaceful, like he just goes to sleep. Not him having these mini strokes and falling, resulting in a bruised hip and surgery and blood infusions. It makes me so sad to see him unable to stand up well or move things like a table or a chair. He couldn't even fix his pillows to make himself comfortable. He needs to get better and feel better. Not have this slow aching pain of getting older. I don't want him to think about things like, "It's my time." He deserves to be thinking about things like, "This is an amazing book," or "My son really helps around the house," or "Caught my three hundredth squirrel today!"

Dad and I have finally started season three of Battlestar: Galactica. So far, amazing. I won't say more, but I could definitely not stop myself from reading about everything that is going to happen in Wiki. I have no self control.

I have been really cranky for no apparent reason. Well I think I actually do have a reason though. I have been on birth control for about three years, and this is the first long period time I have gone off of it. I don't have someone I am currently wanting to have sexy time with, so I figured why spend the money? Well, PMS is a good reason. Holy crap, I definitely have not missed this nonsense. I don't understand why women were made like this. All crankiness and fatigue. It's almost enough to make me want to go ahead and start shelling out cash for some hormonal relief. But I need to get a better paying job first.

Speaking of which, I am working on that. The only problem is that the hiring process at this place that I really want to get a job at has the most ridiculously long timetable. So I may not be hired until the summer or something. Le sigh. 

In better news, it was Boobie Day in my Human Sexuality class, and I learned some really cool things. Like that people on the night shift are possibly more prone to getting breast cancer. The reason being that they are exposed to light all day, and artificial light at night. There is also a high prevalence of breast cancer in cities because of the high amounts of light people are exposed to. In places where there is less light, (like England and Maine) people are more depressed, for lack of copious amounts of light, but there isn't a spike in breast cancer like there is in say night shift nurses who live in San Francisco. Basically, I learned that the best way to ward off an extra risk factor for breast cancer is to sleep in absolute darkness.

I am sure someone out there was really excited about reading the end of this. Ohmigosh, I love boobies, you were thinking. I think there are great, too. That is why I had to let you all know one extra way to preserve them!