Put on Your Tin Hats, Aliens Are Here

The following is an excerpt from a paper I turned in to my English 105 professor. He seemed pleased, I think.

You pass an alien every day, as casual as you please, oblivious to their disguise. It is true, reader; aliens are among us. They study us, watch us, and kill us. The government can only do so much to appease the mob of aliens, can only do so much to cover up their existence, and can only incarcerate the few that cannot be allowed to roam any longer. Area 51 is clearly a jail for such a creature, despite governmental claims of “aircraft test fields” and “innocent nuclear tests,” and we can see the truth behind the lies. Aliens reside on the earth, the government is covering up their existence, and a larger conspiracy concerning the origins of humans themselves is brewing beneath it all.

hey lil mama let me invade your planet

Something is keeping (or attempting to keep) the wool over our eyes. No longer can I stand by and watch citizens trust a neighbor, a superior, or even the government! It must end now, starting here. I’m serving truth up fresh from this point on.

Plain and simple, extraterrestrials have been visiting our planet since the dawn of man. It has not gone unnoticed, despite what some may say. There have been cover ups upon cover ups, but still, those who know the signs can see what slips through the cracks. When a true believer takes findings public, they often become the laughing village jester for the day, month, year, or lifetime. When rational people dismiss cold hard facts, simply unable to believe, that is a sure sign of governmental influence. There are many motives for the government to cover this up. However, only a few are pertinent enough to our study to be worth mentioning.

The government has to save face. If the general public were ever to believe that the man in the oval office has been sanctioning abductions or even encouraging them, the people would lose faith in the head of state, and a mob would likely call for his head to be placed on a plate. Not only that, the aliens might be applying pressure to our dear congressmen, making them abuse the tax purse. Money out of our own pockets is being used not to protect us—quite the opposite, in fact. These aliens could possibly be demanding human test subjects and equipment that the government supplies out of fear.  There might be some attempt to exchange technology for resources, even if said resources require human skin and bones.

To keep truth seekers at bay, the government often commissions work to be done and published to disprove any evidence of aliens. Ha! As if fourteen or twenty studies held by multiple different organizations will sway us from the truth. Still, this skepticism is a strong ally to keep any space invader under wraps. The “lack of evidence,” as some may call it, is hardly grounds for dismissal. The government is the very reason there are so little “undeniable” facts, with the mysterious bases and suspicious radio frequencies, all wrapped up tightly behind barbed wire. The closed off vibes these military operations secrete only confirms that there is nothing good going on behind those scary machine guns. Brute force is not enough to deter the more dedicated logician, so a devious type of psychological warfare is deployed on she who sticks her nose where it does not belong— doubt. Surrounding our beloved truth seeker are those who deny her beliefs and wish to make her shut up.


LOL I just had a lot of fun with this, and it definitely helped me cultivate my voice. This is about 1 1/2 of the 6 page paper.


Numbers Count

Numbers Count

I am obsessed with numbers. Not in a smart or beneficial way, as you may expect from a good little engineer, but in a destructive and demeaning way. I am like the Hillary Clinton of social media. I follow trends that are popular and will garner attention, even if it isn’t always what I care about. When I post an Insta pic, I tend to only do it in the early morning or late evening; that is when the picture is likely to get the most traffic from my followers. I keep tweets in my draft folder for weeks-unless it is about a breaking event- and often edit them two or three times before sending them out into the world of my followers

Tweets I generally send out at any time the sun is up, and lately I’ve been trying to tweet mostly pictures with some witty caption. If I am about to fall asleep, but then think of some crazy saying, I will rip myself away from my blankets and pillows, fumble around for my phone, and type it out as quick as I can. The only time I allow myself to post something unfunny is generally when a national tragedy has happened or an upsetting policy (probably cooked up by some Republican) hits the newsstands. I censor myself, and delete evidence of when others did not respond as enthusiastically as I anticipated.

lol I won’t tweet that bc people only like to be entertained or informed… no room for introspection in 140 character or less 

This is not okay. I am leaving some of my happiness up to the opinions of other, and dependent on a number. Leaving it up to a number is especially dangerous because there is going to come a day that I hit my peak, and that I will never reach again. I shouldn’t expect continuous growth forever, but when it comes to numbers, it is an extremely easy trap to fall in.

This is probably where old people chime in and say “This is how social media is ruining the younger generation!” Woah, there, Bob Barker, that price is not right. Who is creating and pushing all the standardized tests to public schools? The government, which, unfortunately, is still mostly run by crusty old white guys. The people obsessed with test scores are likely not the same people who know what Instagram has the most likes (mine is from when I was homecoming queen; followers like ‘life events’ like that), but the people who run universities and are hiring college kids.

as if this geezer has a twitter (Image by Jennifer Weber LOL)

My ACT score does not define me and I really hope my GPA doesn’t define me-I definitely wasn’t a better person in high school than I am in college-but it certainly feels like it living in the middle of a college campus with finals coming up. I try and remind myself of this as I stay up until three or four in the morning, knowing I have to wake up before 8 am, and it does little to soothe me. I’ll take a distraction over crippling anxiety, thank you very much!

Honestly, keeping my social media aesthetic can be a bit of a burden sometimes, but it is much better than constantly checking my test scores and never leaving the library to get a ‘perfect’ number that probably won’t matter once I am a job or two into my career. I will probably stay obsessed with numbers, but take a grain of salt every time I think about deleting a tweet that only my two best friends favorited. The validation I feel when I receive a retweet or a handful of favorites is sick and fickle, but it does comfort me in times of stress. There are some tweets I keep, even if they receive little attention, because everyone has some pride, but most that are unpopular I am likely to delete. At least now I am up front about it and more introspective about it.

If you wake me up at 7:00 it had better be worth it

Part of going away from home and entering the adult world is deciding what is worth effort and time. Especially when there is a high stress situation, wasting time on meaningless tasks just because you feel obligated to is ridiculous and dumb. I can’t believe that I have fallen prey to that particular scenario so many times.

For example, earlier today, I went to a Women’s Leadership Conference and nearly fell asleep. It wasn’t that the material was boring; it was that it was 830 on a Saturday morning and I was day dreaming of my bed. I have three tests next week and a final draft of a paper due on Thursday, so after the keynote speaker finished her spiel, I decided to leave.

The Honorable LaDoris Harris did have a lot to say and said it very eloquently when addressing us. I was interested in hearing how her engineering degree got her into the US government. She was appointed by President Obama! She spoke on how she climbed the ranks at GE, how her position afforded her the recognition to work for the government. She is currently working on a book about all different types of women and what women can do for society. She was very passionate about women in the STEM fields, which I appreciated greatly. All in all, that was the best part of the conference

Besides the free lunch.

The reason I left was because that monstrosity of workshopping was not at all what I had in mind when I signed up. I expected hands-on activities, not sitting around a table talking about strengths like some sort of business meeting. I am an 18 year old girl who stays up late and wakes up early!!! On Saturday mornings I need to be stimulated in order to learn!!! If I had organized it, I would have put the girls into small groups, done ice breakers and trust exercises to wake everyone up. My brain isn’t meant for hours upon hours of talks, with only two bran muffins and some water in my system. That atmosphere was poisonous for me.

I don’t know how much I would have gotten done if I had stayed at the conference, then taken a nap when I got back to my dorm. I probably wouldn’t have even written this blog post. But I left early, wrote this blog post, talked to a friend, then napped until 630. Not my most productive day, overall, but not my least, either.


have an experience that you thought was a waste of your time? please share!!!!

The Perils of a Clueless College Freshman

It is my second semester of college and I still don’t know what I want to do. Granted, I am still a lowly freshman, but I have learned so much about myself in the last 6 months. Shouldn’t I know myself well enough to know what I want to do? I must be more elusive than I thought. I might be looking in the wrong places for my satisfaction, but where to even start the search?

I am trying to enjoy my studies, but when it feels like I am being pummeled down by a prizefighter, any bright side I find will still be very dark. I am in the Speed School for engineers. I hate myself, can’t you tell? With 8 am calculus tests every Tuesday and quizzes every Thursday, I can’t win. Even if I understand a particular unit, within the next week my mind will have to be whitewashed and prepped for new paint. Even worse, there is still physics and chemistry. Good grief, the pain chemistry is causing me. I don’t understand it, plain and simple. I hope I’ll never have to use it in the ‘real world’ but… What if I have to know the ∆H formation value for my fob interview? Or what the formation of a long chain of silicon will look like? My fears, unfounded as they may be, are relentless.

However, I am enjoying the English class I’m taking, and I’ve come to adore the freedom it allows me. Sadly, it seems that this is as far from engineer as I could get. There is a lot of freedom in what I could do, at least when it comes to writing papers, although what I would do with those papers is a mystery to me;  I think I would at least be happy. In engineering, there is always a right answer and a certain way to do something. Yes, there may be a small number of ways to do something differently, but there is still little wiggle room. It seems like a dead end to me.

Even going into engineering, before coming to college, I knew I didn’t want to end up a traditional engineer. Working on the floor of a plant or using theoretical physics to figure out how to make a saw better just doesn’t call to me. I hoped to do what my parents did, use my degree as a spring board and try to find something I am marginally good at. The idea of me being good or skilled at something that others would pay money for seems unlikely.

Me after being asked what I want to do when I grow up

I am so, so afraid for the future. I try to look at myself ad try to determine what I want to do, but it seems darn near impossible. I don’t know what I want, and I am so afraid that what I want doesn’t exist. Adulthood is lurking nearer every day, and all I want from life is to go back ten years and drink the hot coco my dad nuked in the microwave. It was so easy, so simple, that I never even gave it a second thought. In fact, I probably resented a fair bit of my life. Being young was easy in a way I never appreciated. To enjoy adulthood, I’ll need to find something worth my pain, worth the work. I just wish I knew what it was now.

Any advice to be given to me would be greatly appreciated. Anything said will likely leave me in a better place than I am now.