Today was my first day back in college after a long...hiatus.

And this is a rant.  It is skippable, definitely.  But you've been kind enough to drop by, so here's Rigby and Tonka being fat puppies:

And guarding the fort.

Anyway, rant.

1.  For the crazy amount of dough this is costing me, I should be able to get a straight, to the point answer to my questions regarding the program I am in.  I should not be referred to ten different people or to the fucking internet.  It's a private college!  It's tiny!  It's not like going to the U-Dub and being a little fish in a massive sea.

2.  WTF happened to free printing?  WTF?  I'm supposed to go buy a print card?  My classes take place after the book store has closed.  I'm supposed to come in from Seattle five hours early to buy a print card?  The student body is tiny and consists of tree-huggin' hippies, there's really not that much printing going on! 

3.  These teachers are brilliant.  Who the fuck hired this sad administration? 

4.  Stop.  Changing.  The .  Programs.  Every three months something has been revamped, rescheduled, remodeled, restructured, revised, reconsidered.  Programs don't even have time to run their course before they're abolished in favor of some other newfangled bullshit that no one really cares about.  The BA teacher prep program abolished the same quarter that the "Sustainable Business" program emerges?  Who made that call?  Was it the 40 year old hipster that took over the BA department? 

5.  This was once a well-respected, historically significant university.  Stop fucking with its credibility!

6.  Those low-flow toilets take two flushes to get rid of plain old toilet paper.  Purpose.  Defeated.

/end rant.

Thank you.

There's days I think I would like to be a Suicide Girl.

For those of you who aren't familiar with the term, here's a not-safe-for-work website to check out:

http://suicidegirls.com/join/gallery/

Suicide girls pose nude in "artsy" photographs.  Most are heavily tattooed.  The idea is that they are "redefining beauty".  Lately, though, I think all the girls are starting to blend together.  They're getting skinnier, you see a lot more fake boobs.  The initial idea though, was pretty great.

I can't seem to get past the question of whether SG is art or porn.  Whether posing nude is liberation or exploitation.

Sometimes I think that saying, "screw my insecurities" and posing nude would be the most cathartic experience.  Maybe I would finally accept my thighs, my rumply stomach.  Maybe I could move past shame and reach a feeling of peace.

But what if it isn't cathartic?  What if the photos only made me feel worse?  What if the photo shoot left me feeling like a piece of meat?  What if the images floating on the internet came back to haunt me?

I always wondered about Playboy Playmates.  What really goes through their minds as they strip down in front of photographers.  Is it power?  Is it need?  Are their friends and family able to understand the decision?  What happens when the photo shoot is over, when the magazine gets old? 

Does daily life feel like a disappointment after such an experience?

What do you guys think?  Is posing for nude photographs liberating to women, or is it just another form of exploitation? 

I've been blogging here for five years.

In that time, I've gone from unknown to highly popular, to slightly popular.

I've also developed this weird feeling of duty to my readers, and to the site:

1.  I have a responsibility to be as accurate as possible in my posts.  This can be difficult.  Writing an abortion post takes three times as long when you have to dig up sources every other paragraph.

2.  I have a responsibility to provide sound information, even when recommending blogs.  [Recently, I recommended a post about premarital sex that made the "pullout" method sound like reliable birth control.  The author was kidding, and the rest of the post was pretty sound, but I worry that young teens would take the line about pulling-out seriously.  It may seem like common sense, but in rural areas with no sex-ed, there's the possibility of a kid taking it to heart.  Let me tell you guys now, pulling-out is not good birth control.  It's not even average birth control.  It's probably the stupidest sexual move in the book.  Use condoms.]

3.  I have a responsibility to send people to Xanga.  I link, link, link on other sites, brag about it to my friends, and email links to smart posts to people who could use the info.  Xanga is like my grandma's house.  It needs love and attention to be kept in good shape.

4.  I have to read for spelling and grammar, know the difference between "worse" and "worst", "suppose" and "supposed".

5.  I have to approach issues from the other side once in a while, even if it freakin' kills me.  Do I see pro-lifer's point?  Certainly.  I can understand their every rationale, but I can also refute every argument.  Being able to do this feeds discussion, and keeps us from sounding like stubborn mules.

6.  Once in a while, I have to be positive.  Owning dogs helps greatly.

7.  The stuff I rec has to be rec-worthy.  No contests, no surveys, and, for my own sake, no poop-jokes.

8.  I have to encourage promising new bloggers.  The first year is the hardest.  You update and update but no one seems to read, you pour your heart into a post and get two comments on it.  It's discouraging.  The good news is that now we have the Rec feature.  My rec sends almost 1,000 nice people your way.  Dan the Theologian's rec sends 14,000 people and probably Jesus to your site.  Your blog will rise if the quality is there, just keep at it :)

9.  I have to read clever blogs, outside of Xanga.  Some of my favorites:

http://www.passiveaggressivenotes.com/

http://www.sexypeople-blog.com/

http://www.fmylife.com/

10.  I have to respond to messages and email as often as I can.  I know I'm way behind on this, so don't take my unresponsiveness personally.  Just know that I read, I note, and when time permits, I provide clever responses.  The important part is that you read me, and you took the time to write me.  For that, I love you <3

Do you feel any duties to Xanga?  Do you think popular bloggers have a responsibility to their readers?

I got a scholarship.

Not a whopper.  Not the end of my struggle.

But enough to put me through my next semester of college without having to take a second job.

Thank you, universe.

And thank you private foundation :)

Rigby is a quirky little fellow.

He throws up when he's overexcited.  He meows in his sleep. 

And he seems to have a thing for my underwear.

Any time I jump in the shower, he bolts into the bathroom and steals my underwear from my pile of clothes. 

Then he takes it to one of his many hiding places.  Under the bed, beneath the couch, and oddly enough, in Tonka's crate:

I'm constantly finding my chon-chons all over the house.

I'm going to try to put my clothes straight into the hamper more often.

My underwear supply is shrinking.

Do your pets have any weird habits?