"Would You Like to Donate a Douchebag?"

The funniest thing happened today. The kind of thing that happens in sitcoms or romantic-comedy chick-flicks or so-stupid-your-bone-marrow-is-leaking-through-your-nose guy-flicks. My girlfriend and I recently incorporated the word "douchebag" into our vocabulary recently (after the two of us Wikipedia-ed and Urban Dictionary-ed its meaning). She is an internet geek, meaning she can recite anecdotes from MLIA, FML, that sort of thing. Apparently, you can Google "googlegooglegoogle" and have three Google search engines pop out on a single browser. She told me this, and she was excited. Yeah, an internet geek.


In any case, she told me that she Googled "(enter her boyfriend's name here) is", to which I completed her sentence "a douchebag?". However, before I finished the mentioned Google search, two guys wearing cyan Unicef t-shirts came up to us and asked "Would you like to donate-". Yes, the culmination of the guys' sentence with mine is the title of this blog. Needless to say, the order of the events was extremely spectacular. The two Unicef guys laughed with us and walked away, pretending to sob. I couldn't redeem myself, nor could I explain what happened, for I was gasping for breath between gusts of laughter. They were cute for having done the pseudo sobbing thing. Don't worry though, I did donate actual cash afterwards (Whoa, I just realized that I can type afterwards with only the left side of the keyboard!). There's pretty much one of the funniest things to ever happen... in recent memory, at least. There was also the time in High School when I grabbed a 2L bottle of coke and gulped it down too fast. It started fizzing in my both, out my nose, and I had to spit a hell of a lot out. It landed in a marvelous shape. If it was abstract art, it would have screamed "splattered out from your face". All this happened in my chemistry class, minus the teacher, NOT minus the people. Fantastic. Oh yeah, I don't like carbonated beverages for this reason.


There's something wrong with me, mood-wise. I know this because I'm super annoyed at my music library. Pressing the 'next' button, song after song, translates into "ShufflingHard, something's wrong. You're not fixing it. You don't know what it is. Finding the right song isn't going to change it. You're crazy, but continue trying to find a tune or lyrics that remedy whatever." It feels like I'm going crazy. Doesn't that happen to you too? Something is wrong, and you need to fix it. Right away. You push everything else in your life aside, may it be chores, or doing work, or organizing anything, or working out, until that something is fixed and corrected? The catch is that you don't know exactly what it is that is bothering you. So, in reality, you have two problems: the problem, and not knowing what the problem is. 


For now, using shuffle on my iPhone will suffice. As for the other thing that clearly eating away at me, I don't know. 
Maybe it's because I'm stressing? I do have a load of finals in two weeks. Maybe it's because of a boy? I am crushing on this super-oblivious-about-girls guy. He hikes, he applied for a job where he will be planting trees outside the city for the summer, he longboards (my God, isn't the the sexiest thing ever? Urban surfer. Hell, yes.), he's good at physics (something I hate with every biology-degree-directed-cell I have).
Maybe it's life? I am worried that my degree will end up nowhere, and I don't know if I should pursue a combined degree in hopes that I will enhance my chances of finding a successful career, or if that is just a waste of time (and money) and that I should sit down and find out what I really want, then pursue it. But wait... I've already done that... I guess, my fear is failure. My degree will be useless if my plans go astray. I'm scared as shit. 


It's incredibly hard being scared as shit, while working your ass off getting a degree that you're hesitant to graduate with. (Yeah, so what, I swore. I'm freaking shuffling through my music, so I don't care.)


-ShufflingHard.