Wednesday, August 17, 2011

an ode to opposites

99% percent of my friends would agree that my most prevailing personality trait is my unmatched laziness, and the opposing 1% would only disagree because i somehow managed to graduate college in time without having to do the 5th year victory lap (still not sure how i pulled that off). if i don't leave my house between the time i wake up to the time i go to sleep about ten hours later, it's been a good day. nay, a GREAT day. give me a tv, way too much delivery food, and a forty and you've just described my version of the heavenly kingdom. granted going through a good-for-nothing-couch-bum phase is pretty much required for graduation, but if laziness had been a major i would've graduated three semesters early.

to maximize laziness enjoyment, rewatch a classic movie you've already seen at least 50+ times



with the exception of frequently late papers, laziness in college was never that detrimental to my life. in hindsight, i can pretty much chalk that up to my best friend and roommate, taco, my energy opposite. she's the rittalin to my valium, the coke to my pot, the meth to my heroin, the adrenaline needle to my straight up OD. basically if it weren't for her i would still be asleep on the couch, and if it weren't for me she'd be chain smoking through her one remaining tooth in a basement yammering on and on about how she's the reincarnation of god. (remember, in this analogy taco is meth).


being a double almost triple major with two research assistant jobs, president of the religion club, treasurer of the anthropology club, member of the honor college, and at least five awards for teacher's pet, taco was the ying to my underachieving academic yang. in addition to guilt tripping me into not failing out of school, taco was responsible for my pretty killer social life via not indulging in my let's-just-stay-home-and-play-drunk-uno suggestions. i'm not sure exactly why, but getting me to go out most nights is eerily similiar to getting a toddler to bathe before bedtime. i just don't want to do it, even though i'm fully aware of how fun it can be with the right toys and an ample supply of bubble bath (in this scenario, the toys are male homo sapiens and the bubble bath is malt liquor, vodka from a plastic flask if i'm feeling chic). all i want is to keep watching the spongebob marathon undisturbed, but nay, mama taco is all too aware the importance of hygiene/socialization and knows that once i'm in the bath the real battle is getting me out. and bless her hyper little heart because otherwise i'd be filthy with no friends.

unfortunately, my ying jet set off to Thailand for a year prety much right out of the graduated starting gates, leaving me to yang around in a confused stupor ever since. but hark! doest my calendar deceive me? nay! my taco is indeed expected to make her stateside return in mere days, hopefully bringing my year of fog to a close as she kicks my ass via excitement back to life. after all I haven't taken a bath in MONTHS and this spongebob marathon is starting to repeat episodes.

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