Spring Semester = Summer Love?

I read somewhere that "productive procrastination" is a good thing. You know, like cleaning your room so you don't have to start your homework? I'll just make the assumption that anything I do is productive.

Making a snack? Productive.
Colour-coding cue cards? Productive.
Writing a blog post? Absolutely productive.
Googling Carrie Underwood's marital status?
Well, you get the point.

Welcome to my life. Or at least, my life at the moment, which is characteristically defined by the fact that I am taking summer school this year. Usually, of course, my life is glamorous and spectacular, as is that of any social butterfly. During the school year I talk to at least five people a day, some of whom are occasionally not Tim Hortons employees. I know, it's rather A-list.

If I was Leighton Meester I would definitely be Blair Waldorf and not psychopathic Rebecca from The Roommate. God, her hair was so stringy.

Although come to think of it, Blair Waldorf did have a fair amount of social problems... well, her hair was nice, at least.

I would just like to point out that the extent to which my social life is crumbling is not my fault; spring term is a rough time. I think there's approximately 10 people attending this university right now, which makes my friends options kind of limited. Luckily, the last thing I need right now is friends. School is my priority. I have to keep telling myself that, or I fear I'll collapse into a binge-eating, Community-watching nonentity of a human being. Actually, that doesn't sound too bad at all...

Speaking of friends and such, I was recently reminded that the top place to find a significant other is in university, since it is the only time in life when you will be surrounded by thousands of young, intelligent and single people just waiting to be snapped up and wed. Basically, if you're past the college days, or if you never had them in the first place, you're guaranteed to live a life of romantic solitude. It's just the statistics.

I have just a few comments on this, the first being the fact that I am more awkward than Kristen Stewart tripping on the stage at the Oscars (if this hasn't happened yet, it's only a matter of time. Although that would probably mean that Kristen Steward is winning an Oscar, in which case I retract my example). I wasn't planning on meeting anyone ever anyway, so this newfound information is rather irrelevant.

Yay! Forever alone time!

Besides, romance is about the last thing on my mind right now. I barely have time to shower. How the hell am I supposed to have time for that crap? I think I'll just marry biochemistry. It will be an abusive, oppressive relationship, but at least I won't have to shave my legs.

Oh, and also, I have not met a single guy thus far worthy of even my platonic attention. I think whoever came up with the conclusion of this college love study was neglectful of the fact that many of those "intelligent college guys" are 18 year old douchebags. With this in mind, husband-hunt at your own risk.

Nevertheless, I promised that I'd keep my eye out for the love of my life, even if that means occasionally looking up from my textbooks. So, U of A boys, take a number and form a line. I'll be here all summer.