Man in the Mirror

For some reason my dog has started treating me like the pet. She sleeps in my bed and doesn't get up unless I make her, she bugs me until I take her outside (even though she doesn't need to use the restroom, she just wants to go out and sniff stuff)... I don't really know how to explain it other than I've felt owned for the last week or so. Psssh, women.

To all you Rangers fans out there-all of your statuses are annoying. I understand that this is the first time in the playoffs in a long time, first post-season series victory, and that you have an inspirationally sober poster-boy... Slow down, get a hold of yourself, and don't twist an ankle when you jump off of that bandwagon when they don't win the World Series.

Grad School update: Gave my first presentation last Monday. It was a group gig and we decided that we would open with The Jackson Five's ABC (not as random as it sounds, it had relevance to the material we were presenting). We thought if we got up in front of everyone and grooved a little bit it would get the nerves out of the way and loosen everyone up. Not a single person danced, or cracked a smile. Not even my friend that has Michael Jackson decals all over her car, an MJ tattoo, and a personalized MJ license plate. Don't believe me?

Respect.

Lastly, I saw a license plate that read GODS PHD. Super righteous, or super blasphemous. I guess I should have asked the Dr. Ba dum chhhhh.