Well kids, it's been an eventful couple of weekends, as I will show you in the previous images. You may be saying, "Chelle, it's finals, how are you finding the time to endulge in such frivolous activities?" I like to think it's a gift. I have a gift to always find the funnest distractions right during finals time. Admittedly, this is somewhat of a curse as well, seeing as my studies are constantly put on the back burner, which we all know always burns the pudding because of its step-child location thus resulting in neglect and faulty desserts. Please don't ask where the comparison comes from, I'd rather not talk about it. Well, enough babble and more pics, seeing as the money maker is not my words, nor is it my looks....but reality TV has given talent-lacking gals like me a glimmer of hope.
Since we're in the mode of discussing things I have non-condoned love for, lets segway into this past weekend. The Jazz, my boys, my homedogs, the cause for many a tear and many unregretted high tens. I have a huge thing for D-Will, Deron as I respectfully call him. I know that our love will probably never blossom past the spring of a newborn bud, but lusting is harmless...right tommy?
Ok, since you have been patient and read all about my normal life, possibly thinking to yourself, "Hey, that Rachelle girl seems to get it. Her life seems to have found that flow with waters drawn from the well of comfort and ease." I don't blame you in thinking this, for I constructed it to be this way between us. But here it is, the honesty that keeps me ever short of the whimsical R-E-S-P-E-C-T. Yep, another moment produced by good ol me to bring me off that high horse who's saddle I thought to be so comfortable. This one involves my professor Dave. Remember Dave? He's made a comeback, and it goes something like this:
Me: Oh no
Dave: I'm going to need your help today
Me: Are you sure?
Dave: Yep, you seem to not be as chipper as usual, so lets bring you up here to wake you up a tad, shall we?
Me: I'll drink 7 redbulls if you don't make me do whatever it is you are about to ask me to do.
Dave: Don't be silly, redbulls are bad for you and I'm giving you a priceless gift, the gift of humility. C'mon, don't be shy, come on up
I walk to the front of the classroom, pretty excited as I'm sure you can tell.
Dave: I would like you to demonstrate how a baby scoots
Dave: Go ahead, get on the floor and scoot like a baby Ballard
Thus I get on the floor and do my best to 'scoot.' Now this, while embarrassing is nothing I can't live with. My classmates already think of me as the girl who would have to scoot like a baby in front of everyone. But then comes the good part. Those who know me well are probably familiar with atleast one or two incidences where I removed a piece of clothing only to remember that there wasn't as much clothing underneath as previously anticipated. Yep, you can probably guess. While trying to 'scoot' I kept getting caught on my sweatshirt, so using my Unversity paid for deductive reasoning skills, I decided to remove the sweatshirt. It's a morning class, so you think I would have remembered I decided to just go sportsbra and sweater that day...but no. So, as you probably predicted I removed my sweatshirt, almost entirely when the realization struck, in all its brutality and nudeness. There I am, on the floor, basically naked with a sweatshirt over my face.
Dave: Rachelle, I think we get the idea, you don't need to dress down to your diaper as well.
Me: Got it. Sorry for my gusto in pursuing the character.
Dave: You can go sit down now Ballard. I feel like you're awake now
Me: Thanks Dave