No thanks, I'm allergic.

After 23 and a half years of saying "no thanks, I don't want any of that," or "I don't like (fill in the blank)," I realize I have been wasting my time. Saying these things regarding foods I don't want to eat only launches myself into this argument of "Oh, you HAVE to at least TRY it!" "What is wrong with you?" "Gosh, you are SO PICKY!"

Instead, since I really just want to be left alone to eat what I KNOW is good, I have decided on a new strategy. "I'm allergic."

Two simple words that could have saved me from 23 and a half years of picking at crappy food. "I'm allergic." Two magic words that suddenly makes it okay for me to NOT eat something, and could even have someone consider making me something different altogether.

It may be the best and brightest idea I've ever come up with. (Remind me to make a top 30 list of my best and brightest ideas... suggestions are also welcome)

The little old lady and her ice chipper

My neighbor is approximately 78 years old, and just a very kind, little old lady. She's very active, so we don't get to see much of her, but we do share a sidewalk, and steps leading up to the garage.

Our neighborhood "does" the snow removal for us, which leads to about three inches of packed snow on the sidewalk, and very very icy steps and pathways. I always end up worrying a little bit about our little old neighbor, so a few times I've gone out and done what I could with a plastic shovel (metal blade, of course) to clear things off.

One day, she caught me doing it

Signs for signs' sake

I've always been drawn to read signs, I think we've all been trained to do that growing up. If something is posted and legible, there's a good chance your eye catches it and you decipher the message.

Two signs in particular have caught my eye at UMD this semester. As I made a detour on the way to class Thursday to use the bathroom, my eyes focused on the sign staring directly back at me (guys know, at urinals, you stare at the wall. If there's a sign there, it's a bonus. Don't look down, sideways, and certainly not a combination of the two.)

If I don't learn anything, at least I'll hear a couple good stories...

You get two 1st days of school each year in college, but for some reason, I only get excited about starting classes about once a year. Maybe it's because I don't have much faith that I'll learn anything in the classes offered, or maybe it's a mood-swing phenomenon that is simply inexplicable, but it's, with certainty, a fact.

As I entered this semester - one I'm hoping to graduate after - still four credits short, including the class I gave up on and failed last semester, I somehow found myself excited to start school again. For once, I had hope, and it came in the form of a class called "Media Communications." Surely if there is a class in this world that is tailored to my future career, this would be it... and maybe I'd finally take something useful away from college... something other than the ability to sled using a lunch tray.

Please Fix the Titles

It's three days post-break, and the memories or why I struggle to survive these classes are already streaking back to me.

I realized I honestly have no problem with the classes themselves. My argument lies with the naming and description of the classes.

For example: