3:39pm: Lately, I have been agonizing over the question of what my major will be. In an effort to narrow down some of the possibilities, I have decided to write a list (one of my favorite activities)of things that I cannot do...a list of my un-talents...sadly,due to space and time constraints, I have been forced to seriously limit this list since a complete list would most likely come to around a thousand.
Untalents:
1. cooking. This one is highly ironic because I work at a deli where I am expected to cook things. Once, I accidentally put salt rather than sugar into a cheesecake, which was not a result of my cooking schools (or lack thereof), but was caused by the fact that the salt and sugar was not labeled. (This is what I say to make myself feel better).

2. photography. Somehow, I always manage to take photographs that are either off-kilter or include the edge of some random object, such as my finger. When admiring my pictures of a trip to Switzerland several years ago, I realized that in several particularly scenic photographs, there was a large yellow object obstructing part of the delightful image. This, I later discovered, was the side of the bus. In another picture, the lovely view of the alps is partially constructed by a large, hairy arm that randomly made its way into the corner of my photo. What a nice remembrance of my trip. Hopefully it is at least the arm of an authentic Swiss man.

3. public speaking. When I speak in public or any large group, which includes groups consisting of more than one person, I develop a sudden speech impediment. I call it select speech disorder.

Shoot! I lost track of time...must go to work!!!!

3:57pm: My deepest apoligies for my negligence in my journal writing. I'm missing Amy and Kristin, as well as all my other friends who have returned to school, in addition to all my friends from Wooster (Martinibopper). Since being here, Kristin, Amy, and I have become even closer than before, having bonded over our mutual boredom and being able to make each other laugh so much...Amy and Kristin, my abdominal muscles are already starting to weaken since you've returned to school. I miss you guys!

Now, I've decided that I must lighten the mood a little...I feel rathter depressed today, so I've decided to compile a tiny list of some of my pet peeves...
1. Eyebrows. Seriously, aren't they really bizaare? What is the evolutionary purpose of having random tufts of hair above your eyes? Mine, quite tragically, are enormous and require constant vigilance lest they overtake my face.

2. Kneelers in church, and more specifically, the sitting, standing, kneeling routine that one must endure in a Catholic Church. Miraculously, I always get stuck in the division between the two kneelers and have several times had my knee slip into the crack between the two. This, inevitably leads to me falling into someone, usually a stranger sitting piously beside me. Church is exhausting with all the standing and kneeling...which is probably why so many people pass out in our church. I've decided to conduct a study to see which church has the highest rate of people who pass out during the service.

3. Who comes up with the names of hurricanes? I literally lose sleep over this question. I want to know who is the ultimate person who comes up with the names for each hurricane. Is this the only task this person performs? Why do people waste precious time naming them that they could spend, I don't know, helping people evacuate? Why are hurricanes the only disasters that are ever named? No one ever talks about "Tornado Tony" or "Earthquake Earnest." The names given hurricanes are always ridiculous, like Charley. Whey don't they give them names like "Butch," or "Killer.?" You know, names that people give to Dobermans.

4. When you start thinking about blinking, breathing, or swallowing and it starts feeling unnatural. Amy, Kristin, and I had a truly amazing conversation about this, so I know they don't think I'm crazy for writing about this. Seriously, have you ever started thinking really hard about something such as your breathing, then you start convincing yourself that you aren't breathing properly? It takes hours to recover.

Well, that's all my pet peeves for now. I should go, because in the time it has taken me to write this entry, my eyebrows have probably grown another couple inches. Honestly, they are ridiculous. Constant vigilance.

3:55pm: Cat Ladyism
Tragically, today I have nothing of interest to share with you fine individuals, so I will be reduced to giving you yet another installment of my life goals. Up front, I would like to apoligize for the boredom that will overcome your body after reading this entry...I was recently informed by people who shall remain nameless (Amy and Kristin), that my journals were sometimes rather amusing. This was a "phenomonal" (that one's for Robbie) thing to hear, but it also puts the pressure on for me to continue to be entertaining. It's like the lady at Dagwoods who told me I had a "sweet smile..." well, let me tell you, that made me nervous. Of course I had to continue to smile, lest I disappoint her. So there I was, making Reuben sandwiches and smiling like a fool for approximately 20 years because I felt I needed to maintain the smile. Clearly, that little example is exactly like my need to make this entry amusing. Since it probably won't be, I apologize.
Life goals...
1. Marry Mr. Darcy from Pride and Prejudice (Yes, I know what you cynical, cruel people out there are thinking. Right now, you are probably getting hung up on minor technicalities like "But Mr. Darcy isn't a real person." I can't be picky. Seriously, if we all got hung up on minor technicalities such as that, then we would all be catladies...which brings me to my second goal...
2. I will not be a cat lady. For those of you who aren't aware of precisely what a cat lady consists of...her qualities include, but are not limited to, the following:
1. Clearly, a cat lady has cats...absurd amounts of them.
2. She has never been married or had any kids. She has few known relatives. Most cat ladies are over the age of 45.
3. Lives alone
4. Small children walk by her house and in timid, frightened voices say, "oooh, there's the cat lady."
5. A cat lady has a large collection of all kinds of balls, which she has acquired because neighborhood children kick balls in her yard but are afraid to retreive them (see point 4).
6. Many known cat ladies regularly wear sweaters with pictures of cats on them...I once knew a lady (possible cat lady suspect) who wore a different cat sweater each day of the week. Once she was spotted without a cat sweater, but I am sorry to report, was wearing instead a sweater which read, "Squirrels just want to have fun."

Let it go down on the record that being single does not automatically make someone a cat lady...I may never get married, but that does not necessarily make someone a cat lady. Cat ladyism (the state of being a cat lady) is defined by much more than marital status...it is an entire attitude and way of life.

12:52pm: Gruntled is the word that best explains me this afternoon, after I have discovered two responses to my previous entry! I'm glad you responded without any suggestions or bullying from me at all...(ok, so I gave you a little nudge). In this entry I have decided to outline some of my life goals because, frankly, I am ridiculously bored, so bored that I had to stop myself from alphabetizing my bookcase. I know, I know, you're saying, "But, Rebecca, that's tons of fun! Only the coolest people in the universe do that," But I've managed to save such exiting activities for another day. I don't want to spoil myself with too much fun at once.
Here is a mere sampling of some of my life goals:
1. Become fluent in a foreign language and proficient in another, possibly Bengali, because then I can write poetry, which I believe probably always sounds more elegant in Bengali. That way I can write truly crap poetry and still impress people.
2. Move to a foreign country, possibly Iran, so I can wear the veil. (No, just joking, about the veil part, I mean.)
3. Travel to India, Morocco, and Prague
4. Have a house with a courtyard
5. Treat my social anxiety disorder (That is a serious and legitimate disease, "Stop laughing, Mom!")
6. Stop breaking my foot by tripping over boots

...and that's all for now. More goals to come at a later date.

1:20pm: Well, I have returned to write for you another riveting journal entry. In this entry, I feel as though I am responsible for explaining my name, "anjali tagore." For those of you who have snoffed (snoffed, that's not a word, wow, I meant "scoffed.) at my rather unusual name, pay attention, a full explanation for it follows: Tagore is for Rabindranath Tagore, a famous Indian poet who wrote gorgeous verse in Bengali, the language of poetry. Anjali is much harder to explain...it is the name of the heroine in one of my favorite novels...and that's all you really need to know. Also, I can explain the backdrop of my journal; it is a map of Prague, which (after India and Morocco) is the place I want to visit more than any other.

Now, to other matters...what am I doing today? Working. For those of you who don't know, I am employed by Dagwoods Deli, and would love to have visitors! (Most of the patrons are fine, but I've also gotten customers such as the lady who told me, and this is a direct quote, "There is too much lettuce in my salad." and the man who gave me a 30 minute lecture on the importance of deep frying fish rather than simply baking it. He has informed me that he will open a restaurant titled, cleverly, "Fish." This man, I believe, should be employed by New York Times coming up with witty newspaper headings.

I was rather disgruntled to discover that I had no postings on my journal...so, Amy and Kristin, please post! (By the way...if a disgruntled customer is a dissatisfied customer, is a gruntled customer a happy one?) Inquiring minds need to know. If you leave me a message, I will me extremely gruntled.

One last thing, I promise, you will note that my music for today is "Defying Gravity" from the "Wicked" soundract, which is one of those songs that makes me feel like running, which I would in fact do if I hadn't tripped over a boot in my dormroom and broken my foot (yes, you ready that correctly.) I certainly didn't "defy gravity" that day...

11:50pm: Well, my magnificant amiga Amy brought me into the world of the "Live Journal..."  It is unfathomable to me that my rather dull life would be of interest to anyone, but I've made the momentous decision to enter into technology slowly, having only recently acquired aol instant messenger.  Anyway, I am stalling, because I have no idea what exactly I'm supposed to say on these things, and to whom I am expected to direct my meanderings.  ummm....Kristin told me to "write my feelings" (wise, that one), so, to be painfully honest, I feel ackward, which is, sadly, a feeling which I experience entirely too much.  If things become too dull in my life and I have absolutely nothing else to say, I suppose I can always regale you, my audience, with tales of my rather ackward existence...like when I got stuck in a drain, or when I forgot that I didn't have any gym shorts on underneath my sweatpants and...well, I'll save these delightful anecdotes for another time in my life.  I guess for now this will be all, my amigos...adios