Remember how I told you that I lost my camera-battery charge cord? Well I got something to help! (Not a camera-battery charge cord, though I can see how you could make that assumption considering the information I’ve allowed here. Nice work, Sherlock.) My friends, I joined the 21st century and traded in my Blackberry for an iPhone. I know, I know. So very hipster of me…nobody is doing this.
But you guys, I get it. I get the hype. I won’t go into the things that my iPhone lets me do because chances are, you’ve had your iPhone for two years and you’re like, “Right. THAT is why I was looking at you with pity when I ran into you at the grocery store and saw you trying to look up whether you’re supposed to use paprika or curry powder in that recipe on your BLACKBERRY.” (That didn’t really happen, actually, because I’ve never cooked anything with, say, real spices. Or cooked anything at all.) Just know that paying attention in class these days is a laughable idea. (You can play class in Words with Friends for 27 points if you grab a triple word.)
However, the thing I was hands-down most excited for was the camera, specifically with the Instagram app. You see, I’d been watching people post these pictures of their Starbucks cups, but WAIT THAT PICTURE LOOKS SO COOL, HOW DID THEY DO THAT? for years, and I wanted it. You’d better believe I’ve been documenting my coffee cups. Here’s where I’ve been.
Home. Home is where the heart is. Home is wherever I’m with you. Home.
If you’re thinking that living with these guys seems like a fun time, well then I’d have to agree. It’s the funnest. It’s home.
School. Where people pay money to get told things that make them feel intelligent.
Nothing like higher education to take up some time. And just when you start to wonder how you’re ever going to, you know, graduate, just when you flee to the cement steps of the library for a nap, just when you plop down on your knees and start to barter with the Lord to please, please, make Fall Break get here faster—you pause. You breathe. And you say, “thank You.”
Work. If you can call it that.
It’s stressful because responsibility always offers the prospect of failing, but failing is honestly not the worst thing there ever was, and who even decides what failing is? Besides, they believe in me.
And now we’ve jumped the deadline hurdle and we’re heading into a ho-hum period where we spend an awful lot of time reading magazines, making jokes and discussing our life problems as if we actually have life problems. Sometimes, I sit at my desk and cross my eyes, which is one of the tricks I keep up my sleeve to make people like me or break the ice at parties. It works.
That’s not creepy at all, is it? You like me, don’t you? Thought so.
There you have it, people. The same terrificness I’m always telling you about, only this time through a lens titled “Earlybird” or “Inkwell.” And from where I sit, the view is pretty fantastic.