greeting all & the karma filled motorcycle

So, this would be my first blog here on Blogger. Woot. I'm more for writing and talking rather than the camera being in my fucking face, so this works just fine. Ha. I would rather broadcast since that's less work on my fingers and whatnot and my mouth would be doing all the work, but I'm okay with this.

Anywho...hi. I'm Priscilla...the panda. Why did I pick "Panda?" Well, it's been my nickname since I was about eleven and so, it just stuck really.

Right this moment my puppy, Brooke, is sitting on my foot, using it like some kind of pillow and is sleeping. I'm losing feeling in it...which isn't nice at all. Oh, so as the title of this page entails, I'm going to be telling stories. I have a million and one of them...maybe even a google of them. Will I need to pay like some kind of royalty for using that? O.o Well, it was originally just an infinite number anyway, so yeah, I doubt I'd be sued and it's a free websearch utensil anyway.

So, my story. Well, today is my third day back at school, I'm at a junior college in California and well, I fucking hate traffic. Honestly, I doubt there's a person alive that enjoys sitting there in their fucking car and waiting for the light to go green and hope to God that the fucker in front of them will respond fast enough to get you in as well. Right? Right. I was in traffic this morning. My class began at 8 AM and I left my house [20 minutes from the school, mind you] at 7:20 AM. That's alot of leeway, yes? Well, it didn't help much. I was fucking late. God. That's one of my biggest pet peeves. I LOATHE being late. I just get so flustered and aggravated when I'm late, which isn't often at all.

Anyway, I get to class late and the reasons I hate being late for class are that 1) you won't get the seat you want. 2) you're interrupting the professor as they are speaking. 3) everyone and their fucking mum is staring at your late arse and you're just trying to get to the farthest seat to hide and die in a corner. It's awful being the person that everyone looks at. Why do people HAVE to stare at the opening door anyhow? I mean, really...it's not like you NEED to see who or what is entering the establishment, but people do it anyhow. I don't. No, I honestly don't. I look if someone walks past me or something, but when a door opens, unless it's RIGHT behind someone I am listening to, my eyes stay put. So, I had all of the fucking above happen. People stared at me all the way to the first seat I could find. At least I looked nice, or that would've been so much worse. Well, class was boring and I nearly conked out because I barely got any sleep at all that night, so yeah; I just wanted to get home and sleep, but I had other things to do.

Once class was finally over, I left , dodging looking at anyone in the eye, causing me to bump into at least 4.2 people on my way out. Yeah, that's obviously an estimate. So, I went out to the parking lot to get in my car and do my errands. Well, as I'm crossing the streets and such to get to said vehicle, this motorcyclist went ZOOOM! right by me. He had like no accord to stopping or slowing down at least. Honestly, he came out of fucking nowhere and I jumped out of the way, nearly falling over. Here's the kicker...I nearly fell on a parked motorcycle! Oh God...I would've gotten my arse capped if I had knocked it down. Ha. Goodness...

So, yeah, that was the most exciting bit of my day. Awesome, right? Near death experiences are something I totally live for. hahaha. Oh, and when I was heading to school, I nearly hit a guy on a bicycle, so I think that was karma. Fucking karma. I didn't hit the bastard! Then again, the bastard didn't hit me either. Fuck. It's not fair sometimes.