Crazy Busy.

You know how you can tell?

This is a good week:

Compared to last week, a more normal week:

Which means if it isn't written down, it doesn't happen.  Which also means that I don't have free time to think about funny things to blog about.       *sigh*

Nervous to Blog

I don't know if other bloggers feel this way, but sometimes I feel like I don't have enough witty things to say to create an entire blog post so then I go forever without blogging.  I'm sure I can always dig up something though, it's just a matter of seeing things in the right lens.
Here are some random shtuffs:

• This is the view from out my window:

Meaning I get woken up by construction sounds ALL THE TIME!  Lucky me.  

• For Spring Break I will look a little bit like this with K-Trone!

Because we're going to New York, Boston, and Washington D.C. all in one week.  Meaning tourism.  And tons of it.  Though maybe not with fanny packs though.  

• If I thought I was busy last quarter, I know I am busy this quarter.  I feel stressed out most of the time. Which is okay for now.  But really I like to be busy because when I finally get on top of all of my stuff I enjoy soo much being on top of everything.  Which I am still figuring out how to do, but I will let you know when I get there.  Let me just give you a slice of it.  Everyone at Stanford figures out what they're going to do during the summer during like the month of January.  Meaning on top of looking for an on-campus job, I am applying for internships, and fellowships, and trying to decide where I should live this summer.  And trying (and kind of failing, hence the 9 pm blog post on a Saturday night) to have a social life.  Aghh :)
• I love my classes.  My hardest classes are Econ, which I love, and Music Theory, which I look stupid in regularly because they put me in an advanced section next to people who have perfect pitch.  Which I simply cannot compete with.  Also, I really want to minor in music now.  Also, there's an Ebonics class (technically it's called Modern African American Vernacular English), an intro to Computers class (stay tuned for blog revamping and a personal website based off of this knowledge in the future), and a group piano lesson class, which I also love, but which is more relaxing than stressful.  
• Okay those last two were wordy.  So I am recently obsessed with this band, which actually really surprised me.  
• And just to throw in another picture, here's one of me and my favorite roommate from last quarter sometime :)

Home is where your misplaced birth control is?*

Funny Story.

My roommate and I lost our stapler.  I actually blame myself, because I remember seeing it somewhere funny, but I can’t remember where that hilarious place is.  Anyways, in the search for said stapler, I found under the rolling drawer part of my desk (holla Crothers!) a piece of paper.  Wanting to recycle it, I pulled it out.  AND A DOLLAR CAME WITH IT (I know, this is practically like winning the lottery).  When I looked at the piece of paper, it was in someone else’s handwriting.  Wanting to find out if anything else were in there (and hoping to find someone’s stash of money), I pulled out the drawer so I could reach behind it to the mysterious treasure.  Here is a picture of what I found:

You can tell a lot about a woman by the contents of her stash.  

Besides the paper and dollar, three pens, three pencils, two erasers, a reservation to the Sheraton Hotel, a button (which oddly exactly matches a button that I am in need of), and a pack of birth control with only one pill missing.

The craziest part of the whole thing for me, was the realization that this is not really my room.  Having just gotten to the point in my Stanford career where I feel like I have a place here and that this place is almost a home for me (take that, Sophomore slump!), I was really taken aback by the realization that this place isn’t actually my home.

As much as I love my room and roommate and feel really comfortable here, I only have about 20 weeks left here (not counting Spring Break).  Then I have to move almost every single item that I own to somewhere else.

I guess I’m just whining about the college predicament of having no permanent home, but I got caught off guard.

And it makes me wonder.  Do all Stanford students consider this place home?  Can a place that you move in and out of several times a year truly be a home?  How much stuff did I leave in my room last time?

And if you’re curious, no, I did not find my stapler.  Stapler donations are currently being accepted.  Email: ggamboa@stanford.edu

*I lazily exactly copied and pasted from this post.  But I was really proud of this post, so cut me some slack.  

I'm baaaaaaack!

But not in a creepy way.

I always feel like during Christmas vacation I get really lazy and fat and I just sort of fall off the grid for a little bit.  So even though I am very sad to be leaving my life of family, gluttony, and old friends, I am really glad to be back at school, back at the grind, and back with my new friends.  This place is starting to feel like home to me.

Today, was my sister's birthday and I had an awkward break between classes so I sat down and a bunch of strangers got to hear me sing Happy Birthday to my sister.  There is a point to this story, I promise.

The point of this story is to say that I am so glad that I got a digital camera for Christmas.  Because once my family was lame and having too much fun to talk to me, I took a picture of the pretty Stanford surroundings.  Here's that pic:

And even though I am stressed about my hard classes, I am grateful to be going to a beautiful school.

I know that this post sounds like I hate my family, but I don't.  I actually love them.  Happy Birthday Camille! I hope you were serious about that can-opener.


In one last thing, this is me upon hearing the news that Andrew Luck is coming back to Stanford next year.

And when there's an emergency dance party, it means I'm officially back at the farm.