more like super duper target

so on this very sad day when the rest of college world returned to their respective schools and continued furthering their education, i decided that gilmore girls season five would be a very wise purchase, maybe also som pretty patterned assorted ink ball point pens. yes, also very necesary.

maybe i should just spend eight hours today watching three complete discs of the fifth season, aahh yes, the joys of being home.

i'm bored, is it time to go back to chicago yet?

woopsie daisey

i just saw that in my last post i wrote "queen sized bread." obviously that was supposed to be bed, but i wonder what people assumed when i said that queen sized bread allowed for sleeping in a star formation....sorry blog world, i'll be more careful next time :/

this greyhound is delta bound baby

things i love about being home...
1. being with friends who like to break out into song
2. an entire kitchen of snack food
3. queen size bread that allow for sleeping on a star formation
4. bacon
5. cute comedians who wear guns and roses tees with no underwear

his dogs itch

so this weekend was a wonderful fun fest of plays and tears and taco bell. be careful of the extra large baha blast, it usually results in a huge tummy ache.

i'm bored of school. I used to think i wanted to go home because i miss edina, but i don't. i miss the people a lot but the thought of living in edina for six weeks straight with nothing to do is a little frightening to me right now. maybe to calm my fears i'll look at all the pretty pictures in people's sexiest man alive article (the award was given to matt damon and some disagree with the decision but all i have to say to them is screw you, more matt damon for me then)

much love

taylor, do it

its been quite some time since i've played with jacklyn and whitney and co. and i had begun to question my spontinaity and ablility to do something crazy and cooky on command. that was until i got a text from manute informing me that she was in chicago and i decided i should steal the letter "a" from the cheesecake factory in the john hanncock building. so thankyou manute, even if i don't see you, your spirit is with me.... :)

logan and hannah-how it all began

It had been another uncomfortable night on the floor of the barn, haunted with dreams of the last time he had been at the McCullough farm. His dreams had been filled with visions of Hannah's young, supple body, her eyes filled with curiosity and yearning. They had both been so different then, he remembered the first time that they met....

(enter flashback mode)

Logan had spend the last week of May getting the farm ready for the arrival of the McCullough's granddaughter from NYC. It wa the first time any of their family would visit the acres and everyone was on edge preparing for it. Logan was exhausted, he had been working in the fields all morning and it showed on his tan body which was shimmering in the afternoon sun which kissed him muscles for hours before the rest of the farm even began working. He ripped his shirt off as he walked into the usually empty kitchen for a glass of water but there was someone else there that morning.
Her deep auburn hair was pulled back messily into a ponytai revealing a soft face splattered with freckles. Her chestnut eyes fell on his physique and she gasped. He looked up, first noticing her vuluptuous chest in an ever so tight tank top, then noticing her shocked face.
"Oh I'm so sorry, I didin't see you there," Logan muttered, attempting clumsily to redress.
"Yeah, um, is my grandma here?" her voice was raspy and soothing.
"You must be Hannah, glad to finally meet you, I'm Logan," he said extending his hand to shake hers.
"Um, Yeah thats great, I'm gonna go find my grandparents," and with that she got up and left the room leaving Logan there with his arm hanging, waiting for her touch that would come sooner than he thought. As she left the room he was able to see her tattered blue jeans move perfectly with the sway of her hips and he caught his gaze lingering too long on the curve of her back pockets. He felt a rise in his own pants and immediately sat down. "oh no, this is going to get complicated," he whispered to himself as fantasies whirled through his head...

i left my pride at the library

so today i decided i should start researching my paper for my urban planning class because i refuse to be the girl who goes to college and gets a c first quarter. after spending thirty minutes on the computer trying to navigate the labrinth that is the DePaul University online catalogue, i went upstairs to look for the books i needed, only to be met by the most extensive and confusing row of periodicals which apparently they don't organize on sundays or i just am library challenged. when i finally found what i needed and went to the copier finish my work, i had a lot of difficulty getting it to work and that was the metaphorical last straw. When at the circulation desk asking about the copiers i tried to keep my cool but was unsuccessful.

sir, the copier doesn't work
yes it does ma'am
well how do i get it to work because all it says is insert card but i did and it still won't copy so i don't think it does
did you leave the card in the machine?
what
you have to leave it in the machine
why
so it will copy

it was at this point that i began to cry. in the library. in front of the semi-attractive library attendant. actual tears. i mumbled something about an appointment i was late for and left quickly. i left my favorite pen, and my pride in the John T. Richardson library this morning and i still don't have the copy of the article on Cabrini-Green that i need. shoot