I lost Darwinopoly today in my class which was a bitch. I was a male and I didn't get married, but I had the same amount of sex (if not more) as everyone else, and I only ended up with one kid. Sigh. Apparently my sperm just weren't good swimmers.
I redeemed myself from my male slut behavior during the game, by spending the rest of my day engaged in thoroughly wholesome activities. It was quite refreshing. I left work early for once (given that I stayed at the office last night until 9:30 pm, I don't even feel the least bit guilty about it). Chloe and I went to our IMA class for the first time...don't worry we missed the first four classes. Its called Nia and you do it barefoot in one of the studios with dim lights. I initially thought it would be too new age-y for me, but it was wonderfully relaxing and altogether fun. It was like the kind of little-kid dancing that you do at home in your room. Well, let's be honest...that I do at home in my room. Perhaps not everyone lapses into being 6 year-olds from time to time.
Then we made dinner. Not frozen things or pasta. No, we actually cooked salmon and made garlic bread and vegetables. I will probably call my mother and tell her this tomorrow.
Then Chloe and I had a deep conversation about beauty, cultural norms, human psychology, etc., etc., and she ended up describing me as "not overbearing, just kind of a lot to handle," but then she stopped midway through and decided to say, "well, just a lot." I suppose that is true. I should run around with a disclaimer: Dances barefoot around house, likes to start arguments, high energy, a lot to handle. This is true. People don't realize that about me right away though. I think some of my ex-boyfriends only realized that after I dumped them. Whatever. Suckers. Its too bad that I don't like any of them. I seem like the kind of girl who would want to KIT and be life-long BFF's with exes, in all that yearbook message glory. I think I actually am that kind of girl, I just haven't had boyfriends who have been worth the effort.
I am so jaded. Not actually emo, though. There are lots of emo people in my life. I just care a lot about certain things and take things personally, and am slightly dramatic. Emo is a boy kind of depression and wallowing, exemplified in intentionally washed-out pictures with words typed on them in a galactically (yesss! Insert word of the week here!) emo font. Case in point: Travis' old facebook profile pic.
Oh, today was also good because I didn't eat any Skittles. I have been regularly OD-ing on them. I think the sour ones actually cut my mouth.
"Look up, speak nicely, and don't twiddle your fingers."
-Queen of Hearts, Alice in Wonderland
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
Monday, January 29, 2007
Ranting Liberally
Libby trial started. Apparently the prosecutor is going for an either or, as in either Cheney or Rove. I'm pulling for a Cheney take-down. The guy is completely the Darth Vader of the GOP, and Rove is ridiculously evil as well, but I suspect not as dangerous. Like Travis says "Karl Rove is like a gun. He can be used for good or for evil, its just a matter of getting him on your side." True story. After all, I don't think he was galactically destructive in the least when he was working for Clinton. Cheney, on the other hand, probably could have convinced old Bill to expand his Lewinsky-banging into an intense intern sex ring. That and convinced him to fund genocide in Rwanda if it would get Halliburton more contracts.
Yes, I actually think the man is evil, not just minimally sinister. Side note, though: did you know that Halliburton was founded in 1919? I heard that today. Also, is it weird that Scooter Libby reminds me of G. Gordon Liddy? It's probably just the names, I suppose.
On a different topic, I think that maybe I swear too much. Not very ladylike, I know. Still, I don't know how much there is about me that is remotely ladylike. Hmmm. Sometimes I bake cookies for my roommates. Domestic, no? But non-gendered domesticity for sure...it would be laydlike OR gentlemanly. Just in case you thought I was slipping into sexist prose.
"Nobody will ever win the Battle of the Sexes. There's just too much fraternizing with the enemy. "
-Henry Kissinger
Yes, I actually think the man is evil, not just minimally sinister. Side note, though: did you know that Halliburton was founded in 1919? I heard that today. Also, is it weird that Scooter Libby reminds me of G. Gordon Liddy? It's probably just the names, I suppose.
On a different topic, I think that maybe I swear too much. Not very ladylike, I know. Still, I don't know how much there is about me that is remotely ladylike. Hmmm. Sometimes I bake cookies for my roommates. Domestic, no? But non-gendered domesticity for sure...it would be laydlike OR gentlemanly. Just in case you thought I was slipping into sexist prose.
"Nobody will ever win the Battle of the Sexes. There's just too much fraternizing with the enemy. "
-Henry Kissinger
Galactically=Word of the Week
Wow. I just briefly thought about what I've been wanting recently and suddenly it didn't seem so appealing anymore. Is it that time again already....and no, silly, I don't mean that time of the month, I mean that time when I go and draaaaastically change my mind. I swear to God, I am the most fickle person I know.
But, it might just be because it's late--not that late since I normally go to bed at 3 and to sleep at 4, but late considering I've been studying for TEN HOURS STRAIGHT. Applaud, please. I cannot remember studying for so long, except for during pre-cal, which was oddly horrendous. Galactically horrendous, you could say.
A mixed strategy Nash Equilibrium can be found by calculating the expected value of pay offs from each of the row player's available strategies...danwei refers to state owned enterprise work group units which...and setting them equal. Existing pure strategy Nash Equilibriums can still exist and should.....had significant inequalities between them which we can...be expressed as values of r and c just like the....refer to as intra-urban inequalities....mixed strategy solutions.
I am going bananas. The lovely bit above is what both my blue books will probably contain tomorrow. Oh wait, I'm lying. They will be green books....and I still have to buy them. Shit.
"I am crazy."
-Chloe, to a horrified random girl while charging through our party-packed kitchen holding knives out in front of her.
But, it might just be because it's late--not that late since I normally go to bed at 3 and to sleep at 4, but late considering I've been studying for TEN HOURS STRAIGHT. Applaud, please. I cannot remember studying for so long, except for during pre-cal, which was oddly horrendous. Galactically horrendous, you could say.
A mixed strategy Nash Equilibrium can be found by calculating the expected value of pay offs from each of the row player's available strategies...danwei refers to state owned enterprise work group units which...and setting them equal. Existing pure strategy Nash Equilibriums can still exist and should.....had significant inequalities between them which we can...be expressed as values of r and c just like the....refer to as intra-urban inequalities....mixed strategy solutions.
I am going bananas. The lovely bit above is what both my blue books will probably contain tomorrow. Oh wait, I'm lying. They will be green books....and I still have to buy them. Shit.
"I am crazy."
-Chloe, to a horrified random girl while charging through our party-packed kitchen holding knives out in front of her.
Sunday, January 28, 2007
Real Change, anyone?
I hate pennies. I hope that this sentiment doesn't expose me as a depressingly pampered middle class individual who can't be bothered by small increments of wealth. I blame capitalism. And my economics classes. I really did hear in lecture once that the energy expended by reaching down to pick up a penny is worth more than the penny itself, and thus makes the act of picking up stray pennies a loss (if you don't consider the whole luck bit).
Still, I don't actually do that calculation in my head everytime I see a penny. I just hate them because they are bothersome. And when I clean my room and find them, I throw them away, which makes Kristin and Whitney yell at me for my thoughtlessness. So now I have started giving my room-cleaning pennies to them. But I still refuse to pick up pennies when not cleaning....unless I feel the need for luck at the moment.
But, look at this article that Kay sent to me: http://news.yahoo.com/s/nm/20070122/us_nm/usa_pennies_shortage_dc.
Apparently pennies are worth roughly 5 times their monetary value because of the copper shortage. In May you will be able to sell 1 pound (~154 pennies) for $4.16. Shazam. People are suggesting that the penny be "rebased" by the U.S. Mint so that it is worth the same as a nickel. This means that I have been LOSING NICKELS. Oh snap. Too bad that I actually don't value nickels that much either. What I should do is give my pennies to the Real Change people, but I actually think they would not be happy if I gave them 100 coins....or rather 20 pennies and tried to convince them that since pennies are now supposed to be equal to nickels, that they should accept it as full payment. They would think I was a bitch. I will just give them a regular dollar, and continue siphoning off my change to Chloe and Kay.
Random thought of the day: There are probably very few people who think that there is one right answer to the question "if I was a color, what color would I be?". I am one of those people. I have asked many of my friends this, and so far they have all answered the same color for me, which tells me that there is a correct reply. They all give good (and quite similar) justifications as well. Things like this make me very happy. I don't really actually like the idea of being mysterious at all.
"Some people are like pennies: two-faced and worthless."
Still, I don't actually do that calculation in my head everytime I see a penny. I just hate them because they are bothersome. And when I clean my room and find them, I throw them away, which makes Kristin and Whitney yell at me for my thoughtlessness. So now I have started giving my room-cleaning pennies to them. But I still refuse to pick up pennies when not cleaning....unless I feel the need for luck at the moment.
But, look at this article that Kay sent to me: http://news.yahoo.com/s/nm/20070122/us_nm/usa_pennies_shortage_dc.
Apparently pennies are worth roughly 5 times their monetary value because of the copper shortage. In May you will be able to sell 1 pound (~154 pennies) for $4.16. Shazam. People are suggesting that the penny be "rebased" by the U.S. Mint so that it is worth the same as a nickel. This means that I have been LOSING NICKELS. Oh snap. Too bad that I actually don't value nickels that much either. What I should do is give my pennies to the Real Change people, but I actually think they would not be happy if I gave them 100 coins....or rather 20 pennies and tried to convince them that since pennies are now supposed to be equal to nickels, that they should accept it as full payment. They would think I was a bitch. I will just give them a regular dollar, and continue siphoning off my change to Chloe and Kay.
Random thought of the day: There are probably very few people who think that there is one right answer to the question "if I was a color, what color would I be?". I am one of those people. I have asked many of my friends this, and so far they have all answered the same color for me, which tells me that there is a correct reply. They all give good (and quite similar) justifications as well. Things like this make me very happy. I don't really actually like the idea of being mysterious at all.
"Some people are like pennies: two-faced and worthless."
Saturday, January 27, 2007
Home Alone: Chloe, Phoebe and the midget
It's funny how things work out sometimes. I am now sitting in bed in a College Republicans t-shirt, which is thoroughly awkward. Just in case you jump to conclusions here, there was nothing at all skanky that went down that led me to be wearing this shirt. It's Max's...as in the roommate who everyone thinks could possibly be gay and is currently having sex with another roommate. This fact alone is aaaaawkard as hell, and I probably shouldn't share it with anyone, but 1) who is really paying attention to the joke that is my blog, and 2) I don't care at this point and I may not remember writing this tomorrow, at which point I can deny any responsibility.
I am basically just an awkward person. I was re-reading some of these entries just now, and I have concluded that I am entirely awkward in speech and content. It is an unfortunate but likely possibility. I really am better at the whole concept and practice of writing when it is for actual papers...I swear. Apparently I am also intidimidating. Someone told me this tonight and I think it is entirely amusing. I understand the people thinking I'm a ditz (at first at least), but I have never considered anyone thinking that I am intimidating. Fabulous.
Final 5 am thought: There are truly two types of people in the world. The people that use the mouse or the arrow to go back and correct typos when they make them, and the people that delete everything that they just wrote to get to the mistake and correct it and then have to re-type everything. I am most definitely a member of the latter camp.....or "team" you could say.
"There are two types of people in this world, good and bad. The good sleep better, but the bad seem to enjoy the waking hours much more."
-Woody Allen
I am basically just an awkward person. I was re-reading some of these entries just now, and I have concluded that I am entirely awkward in speech and content. It is an unfortunate but likely possibility. I really am better at the whole concept and practice of writing when it is for actual papers...I swear. Apparently I am also intidimidating. Someone told me this tonight and I think it is entirely amusing. I understand the people thinking I'm a ditz (at first at least), but I have never considered anyone thinking that I am intimidating. Fabulous.
Final 5 am thought: There are truly two types of people in the world. The people that use the mouse or the arrow to go back and correct typos when they make them, and the people that delete everything that they just wrote to get to the mistake and correct it and then have to re-type everything. I am most definitely a member of the latter camp.....or "team" you could say.
"There are two types of people in this world, good and bad. The good sleep better, but the bad seem to enjoy the waking hours much more."
-Woody Allen
Thursday, January 25, 2007
"Yo ho ho and a rocket propelled grenade."
That is apparently a quote from Jeannie's 50 page thesis. It is there to remind me that I have not started the bit where I actually write mine down on paper, and thus am probably screwed. Fuck.
Instead of lighting a much needed fire under my ass, this compels me to share with you something that I have been channelling a bit of time and effort into in lieu of my thesis: a compilation of the few people who I would marry on the spot if they proposed to me.
1) Jon Stewart: The man is a God. I would have the most hilarious children ever. And he's good looking, albeit a frat boy. Not ex-frat boy, though, because once a frat boy, always a frat boy. (Lol, Strom Thurmond!)
2) Zach Braff: Anyone who wrote, directed and starred in Garden State, all without appearing in any way a megalomaniac, can be a permanent part of my life for sure. Besides. That is one of the sweetest, most adorable and sincere movies ever.
3) Barack Obama: And I will be First Lady.
These are actually all I can think of for now. I'm not thaaat easy to please. I'm actually not exaggerating, though. I, like most UW girls, would be fine with any one out of those three. And nothing less. Ha! Plus, I would make bank, which is why this is a more worthwhile use of my time than writing my "How conservatives in Congress decided to start the War on Crime in order to criminalize the Civil Rights Movement and its beneficiaries" paper, which will fully earn me an H on my transcript and nothing more than that...except for a few sheets of feedback with which to pad the box I will be living in for the rest of my life.
Party tomorrow night. I suppose it will be fun. I'm really just excited at the opportunity to beat Jack and Stephen in another Girls Against Boys Flip Cup Championship. It is on. But I will be oh so devastated if Momo and I lose this time after last week's triumph. I'll have to make sure that she is ready. We both drink reeeaaally slow, but it all works out because neither Jack nor Stephen can flip for shit.
"Last night we had Carol Moseley Braun on the program. She's explaining to me why she should be the next president of the United States. I get home that night, check the Internet, and she dropped out of the race.... My guess is this whole presidential run was a ruse to get on this program. Gore did the same thing."
-Jon Stewart
Instead of lighting a much needed fire under my ass, this compels me to share with you something that I have been channelling a bit of time and effort into in lieu of my thesis: a compilation of the few people who I would marry on the spot if they proposed to me.
1) Jon Stewart: The man is a God. I would have the most hilarious children ever. And he's good looking, albeit a frat boy. Not ex-frat boy, though, because once a frat boy, always a frat boy. (Lol, Strom Thurmond!)
2) Zach Braff: Anyone who wrote, directed and starred in Garden State, all without appearing in any way a megalomaniac, can be a permanent part of my life for sure. Besides. That is one of the sweetest, most adorable and sincere movies ever.
3) Barack Obama: And I will be First Lady.
These are actually all I can think of for now. I'm not thaaat easy to please. I'm actually not exaggerating, though. I, like most UW girls, would be fine with any one out of those three. And nothing less. Ha! Plus, I would make bank, which is why this is a more worthwhile use of my time than writing my "How conservatives in Congress decided to start the War on Crime in order to criminalize the Civil Rights Movement and its beneficiaries" paper, which will fully earn me an H on my transcript and nothing more than that...except for a few sheets of feedback with which to pad the box I will be living in for the rest of my life.
Party tomorrow night. I suppose it will be fun. I'm really just excited at the opportunity to beat Jack and Stephen in another Girls Against Boys Flip Cup Championship. It is on. But I will be oh so devastated if Momo and I lose this time after last week's triumph. I'll have to make sure that she is ready. We both drink reeeaaally slow, but it all works out because neither Jack nor Stephen can flip for shit.
"Last night we had Carol Moseley Braun on the program. She's explaining to me why she should be the next president of the United States. I get home that night, check the Internet, and she dropped out of the race.... My guess is this whole presidential run was a ruse to get on this program. Gore did the same thing."
-Jon Stewart
Please Let America Be Tolerant
My house is falling apart. Everyone yells at eachother. Even the people that like eachother still. And other people plot to run other people out of the house by stacking boxes in front of their doors. I might be one of those people. Except for I know I would wake up dead in the morning. He has some intense rage. Lol, if he read this...but I'm not too worried, because he got bored halfway through the 3-paragraph heartfelt letter that I wrote him, so him bothering to come here and actually read this would be quite a stretch. I don't know why I even care anymore. I should ex-communicate him from my friends. I just don't like losing friends...ever, for any reason.
I'm exciiiiiited, because Stephen and my recruiting campaign is working out I think. It's not that I don't like the existing members, its just that I like Congress people better. No, I lie. That's mean. I like them the same.
I have no interesting thoughts left inside of me as a person. They've been sucked out through facebook. And I want a puppy, damn it. Olive always said that she would like to have a dog named Shortstop. I think her dad came up with that.
Maybe I will name a puppy Barack if I ever get a new dog. I'm sure Obama wouldn't mind. I think I will wear my Obama shirt tomorrow to remind myself to be cheerful. Did you know that his middle name is Hussein? Ha! Crazy man....
"My parents shared not only an improbable love, they shared an abiding faith in the possibilities of this nation. They would give me an African name, Barack, or blessed, believing that in a tolerant America your name is no barrier to success."
-Barack Obama
I'm exciiiiiited, because Stephen and my recruiting campaign is working out I think. It's not that I don't like the existing members, its just that I like Congress people better. No, I lie. That's mean. I like them the same.
I have no interesting thoughts left inside of me as a person. They've been sucked out through facebook. And I want a puppy, damn it. Olive always said that she would like to have a dog named Shortstop. I think her dad came up with that.
Maybe I will name a puppy Barack if I ever get a new dog. I'm sure Obama wouldn't mind. I think I will wear my Obama shirt tomorrow to remind myself to be cheerful. Did you know that his middle name is Hussein? Ha! Crazy man....
"My parents shared not only an improbable love, they shared an abiding faith in the possibilities of this nation. They would give me an African name, Barack, or blessed, believing that in a tolerant America your name is no barrier to success."
-Barack Obama
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
State of the Union
I stayed home from class and work because I had a fever, which inevitably led to a horribly unproductive day. The only thing worthwhile I did (besides watching the State of the Union), was my Game Theory problem set which turned out to be a bitch. Math is clearly not my strong point. Do not ask me why I decided to double in Econ. I like econ. It just unfortunately involves calculus which does NOT like ME.
The sad part is that its not that I am completely horrible at math. I can do just as well as anyone when I put in the time and effort. I 4.0ed the last calculus class I took. The problem is, these days my conception of "time and effort" has become a lot shorter and not much. Which translates into only understanding half of your fucking problem set.
Whatever. I fully intend to go to office hours tomorrow to ask about discontinuous functions, and I think that should be applauded. The last time I went to go to office hours, it was for a 200-level polisci class where office hours were mandatory to discuss your paper. That was the quarter my TA hit on me and office hours were horribly awkward. I am obviously sacrificing for Game Theory here. Stand.
Speaking of standing, or rather not being able to, I thought that McCain looked remarkably deteriorated today. If he runs, he will have to get a seriously good facialist and a maseusse. Either way, I think Obama has it. Everyone should go to OIG.com and order an Obama is Good shirt. He looked quite good today too.
Besides watching potential '08 candidates, my favorite part about watching the State of the Union was watching Pelosi and Cheney decide when to clap. Its been awhile since we've had opposing parties sitting up there behind the President. And on issues that both of them want to show partisan support for, they race to be the first one to stand and applaud. Pelosi won most of those today, which may be due to the fact that she is a little more spry than I-have-heart-probems Cheney...or that he simply has stopped giving a shit. You could just see her popping up to clap first whenever Bush said "supporting our veterans, blah, blah, blah," and then looking at Cheney like, "Democrats support the troops more than the VP does, bitch."
I thought it was weird that Bush started quoting terrorists in his State of the Union. Please. I can just hear his advisors telling him, "some of those citizens are starting to think 9/11 is passe so let's scare them into PATRIOT Act-style submission again by giving the terrorists press time during the presidential address." Classy, guys. And too bad when W wanted to tell a nice story about a poor little African boy who was able to live the American dream he picked an NBA player. Can you say cliched? He would've been better off just giving Obama a shout-out. Of course, he couldn't have sat Obama next to his wife for the token minority camera shot, but the black construction worker who saved someone's life could have sat next to her. He was more charismatic anyway, with all his pointing and blowing kisses, though admittedly not as tall.
"I would not fear a pack of lions led by a sheep, but I would always fear a pack of sheep led by a lion."
-Alexander the Great
The sad part is that its not that I am completely horrible at math. I can do just as well as anyone when I put in the time and effort. I 4.0ed the last calculus class I took. The problem is, these days my conception of "time and effort" has become a lot shorter and not much. Which translates into only understanding half of your fucking problem set.
Whatever. I fully intend to go to office hours tomorrow to ask about discontinuous functions, and I think that should be applauded. The last time I went to go to office hours, it was for a 200-level polisci class where office hours were mandatory to discuss your paper. That was the quarter my TA hit on me and office hours were horribly awkward. I am obviously sacrificing for Game Theory here. Stand.
Speaking of standing, or rather not being able to, I thought that McCain looked remarkably deteriorated today. If he runs, he will have to get a seriously good facialist and a maseusse. Either way, I think Obama has it. Everyone should go to OIG.com and order an Obama is Good shirt. He looked quite good today too.
Besides watching potential '08 candidates, my favorite part about watching the State of the Union was watching Pelosi and Cheney decide when to clap. Its been awhile since we've had opposing parties sitting up there behind the President. And on issues that both of them want to show partisan support for, they race to be the first one to stand and applaud. Pelosi won most of those today, which may be due to the fact that she is a little more spry than I-have-heart-probems Cheney...or that he simply has stopped giving a shit. You could just see her popping up to clap first whenever Bush said "supporting our veterans, blah, blah, blah," and then looking at Cheney like, "Democrats support the troops more than the VP does, bitch."
I thought it was weird that Bush started quoting terrorists in his State of the Union. Please. I can just hear his advisors telling him, "some of those citizens are starting to think 9/11 is passe so let's scare them into PATRIOT Act-style submission again by giving the terrorists press time during the presidential address." Classy, guys. And too bad when W wanted to tell a nice story about a poor little African boy who was able to live the American dream he picked an NBA player. Can you say cliched? He would've been better off just giving Obama a shout-out. Of course, he couldn't have sat Obama next to his wife for the token minority camera shot, but the black construction worker who saved someone's life could have sat next to her. He was more charismatic anyway, with all his pointing and blowing kisses, though admittedly not as tall.
"I would not fear a pack of lions led by a sheep, but I would always fear a pack of sheep led by a lion."
-Alexander the Great
Ariel is an ENFP
"Ranked 1st of all 16 types in using social and emotional coping resources and 2nd in using cognitive resources."
Ha! Bitches.
"ENFPs have a great deal of zany charm, which can ingratiate them to the more stodgy types in spite of their unconventionality. They are outgoing, fun, and genuinely like people. As SOs/mates they are warm, affectionate (l ots of PDA), and disconcertingly spontaneous. However, attention span in relationships can be short..." Hmmm.
"An ENFP who has "gone wrong" may be quite manipulative - and very good it. The gift of gab which they are blessed with makes it naturally easy for them to get what they want. Most ENFPs will not abuse their abilities, because that would not jive with their value systems." Me=bad as a child, it's true.
"ENFPs take their relationships very seriously, but also approach them with a childlike enthusiasm and energy. They seek and demand authenticity and depth in their personal relationships, and will put forth a lot of effort into making things work out."
...There we go, short attention span=result of lack of authenticity and depth in past relationships. Not my fault.
"Although two well-developed individuals of any type can enjoy a healthy relationship, ENFP's natural partner is the INTJ, or the INFJ. ENFP's dominant function of Extraverted Intuition is best matched with a partner whose dominant function is Introverted Intuition." ........Well, that is dandy, but I have no idea what anyone else is, so c'est la vie.
"I'm sixteen years old! I'm not a child anymore!"
- Ariel
Ha! Bitches.
"ENFPs have a great deal of zany charm, which can ingratiate them to the more stodgy types in spite of their unconventionality. They are outgoing, fun, and genuinely like people. As SOs/mates they are warm, affectionate (l ots of PDA), and disconcertingly spontaneous. However, attention span in relationships can be short..." Hmmm.
"An ENFP who has "gone wrong" may be quite manipulative - and very good it. The gift of gab which they are blessed with makes it naturally easy for them to get what they want. Most ENFPs will not abuse their abilities, because that would not jive with their value systems." Me=bad as a child, it's true.
"ENFPs take their relationships very seriously, but also approach them with a childlike enthusiasm and energy. They seek and demand authenticity and depth in their personal relationships, and will put forth a lot of effort into making things work out."
...There we go, short attention span=result of lack of authenticity and depth in past relationships. Not my fault.
"Although two well-developed individuals of any type can enjoy a healthy relationship, ENFP's natural partner is the INTJ, or the INFJ. ENFP's dominant function of Extraverted Intuition is best matched with a partner whose dominant function is Introverted Intuition." ........Well, that is dandy, but I have no idea what anyone else is, so c'est la vie.
"I'm sixteen years old! I'm not a child anymore!"
- Ariel
Monday, January 22, 2007
Here's a thought...
If you lost your virginity before all of the rest of your friends in high school or middle school or whatever school, it might not have meant that you were that cool. You might have just been a slut.
I am not using the word slut to refer to one sex specifically.
I am not using the word slut to refer to one sex specifically.
I almost started a street fight.
It is odd how I get so attached to people sometimes. I'm not talking about specific people at all, but rather everyone who I have ever known. Inevitably, everyone who I even appreciate at all as a person, I also come to love in a way. Not the "I heart you" kind of trite facebook wallpost love, but the actual attachment kind where you miss people when they are gone and empathize with them when you know they are having a hard time. This is sad because, apart from a few select people, I know that I always end up caring more about people than they care about me. It obviously doesn't make me jaded enough to stop from caring about people in the first place, but it really is too bad because as an ENFP I need constant reciprocation and affirmation.
On the other hand, however, I continue to amaze myself with the absolute indifference and sometimes repulsion I feel for any boy I have just met that shows interest in me. Here I am not referring to boys that I know well enough to already be facebook friends, because by that point I am generally attached enough to friends that I will consciously miss them after not seeing them for a week to a month, depending on the level of closeness. But people, or rather, boys, who I have literally just met that dance with me or ask me for my number actually make me uncomfortable. I suppose that everyone wants to be seen as attractive, but I hate feeling like I am being wanted for what I look like or the way that I dance (not that I necessarily feel like this a lot).
For instance, at our party last night there was a nice, funny, interesting, good-looking guy who I should have appreciated at least for obviously being interested in me. Instead, I decided that it was altogether too awkward that he could be interested in me without knowing me at all, and I disliked him for it, and refused to consider getting to know him past the bland description that I just gave above.
The other reason I dislike him stems from my ridiculously nerdy tendencies. Who the fuck would write off a person for having an opposing opinion on a miscellaneous Supreme Court decision? Oh wait, that would be me. In all fairness to myself, I do think that Terry v. Ohio is one of the most important cases in the last fifty years. However, it is absolutely astonishing that an off-hand comment about a random case will decide my opinion and the extent of my interaction with someone. Then again, I suppose that off-hand comments have tended to shape my life, so maybe this is not atypical in the grand scheme of my existence, but I think that it is problematic when you consider that this irrational judgemental behavior will probably lead to me dying alone in my house with a bunch of cats. And maybe some puppies. That I would be very attached to.
Ha! There was an incredibly dramatic part of the party that, in retrospect, I enjoyed very much. Some fool on the porch was smoking and I started some relatively low-key argument with him about the likelihood of him getting cancer (I think he actually made me mad initially, though, by trying to get my friend to smoke, or calling me out for not looking happy with him smoking or something). The next thing I know, he is saying that he has more experience with cancer than I will ever have because he's an EMT. Bullshit. But, he wouldn't back down or even agree to disagree after I informed him that my best friend just died of leukemia. Instead, he proved himself a complete fucker by insisting that leukemia is a fairly easy way to die, and preferable to all other forms of cancer and some other forms of death. This made me irate and so I started ranting about reasons that it killed me to watch cancer killing Olive, one of which was that she lost her ability to smile because of partial facial paralysis, which in turn made her lose the ability to become as happy as she could have previously. (Smiling releases chemicals in your brain that make you marginally more happy.) He then said that this was complete bullshit, no matter what I had read, heard from doctors, or saw my best friend experience.
I definitely wish that I had used my virgin slap on him. Because I will probably have to wait a long time for someone who is as or more raving then this unfortunate human being. C'est la vie. All I did was walk back into the house, slamming the door so that the house shook and the entire party probably wondered what was going on.
This all sounds very upsetting, and it was at the time. I actually started crying. But then Caddie and Kay came and did an amazing 120-second job of comforting me to the point where I was completely fine. I was made even more "fine" by the fact that Caddie got her boyfriend to kick the assinine guy out of the party. Apparently he put up a little bit of argument after being told to leave and Caddie's boyfriend pushed him. I saw the rest through the window, which involved Caddie trying to hold Jordan back and his shirt ripping, and the guy trying to argue still, while Jordan ripped off the rest of his shirt and stood there. I swear to God they almost actually fought. I would never want Jordan to get into a fight, but I enjoyed the fact that the douche bag guy had to suffer the humiliation of getting kicked out of a party and having to walk away or else risk getting completely annihilated in a fight with Jordan.
All in all, it was a good night. Especially the fact that everyone dressed up. I love everyone who came. Except for the Terry v. Ohio guy (poor kid) and the "leukemia is not that bad" EMT jerk.
And the music rocked. I think its hilarious that people were so excited about dancing to N*Sync and the Spice Girls when it was mixed in with the hip hop and 80's. Heart!
"It is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all."
On the other hand, however, I continue to amaze myself with the absolute indifference and sometimes repulsion I feel for any boy I have just met that shows interest in me. Here I am not referring to boys that I know well enough to already be facebook friends, because by that point I am generally attached enough to friends that I will consciously miss them after not seeing them for a week to a month, depending on the level of closeness. But people, or rather, boys, who I have literally just met that dance with me or ask me for my number actually make me uncomfortable. I suppose that everyone wants to be seen as attractive, but I hate feeling like I am being wanted for what I look like or the way that I dance (not that I necessarily feel like this a lot).
For instance, at our party last night there was a nice, funny, interesting, good-looking guy who I should have appreciated at least for obviously being interested in me. Instead, I decided that it was altogether too awkward that he could be interested in me without knowing me at all, and I disliked him for it, and refused to consider getting to know him past the bland description that I just gave above.
The other reason I dislike him stems from my ridiculously nerdy tendencies. Who the fuck would write off a person for having an opposing opinion on a miscellaneous Supreme Court decision? Oh wait, that would be me. In all fairness to myself, I do think that Terry v. Ohio is one of the most important cases in the last fifty years. However, it is absolutely astonishing that an off-hand comment about a random case will decide my opinion and the extent of my interaction with someone. Then again, I suppose that off-hand comments have tended to shape my life, so maybe this is not atypical in the grand scheme of my existence, but I think that it is problematic when you consider that this irrational judgemental behavior will probably lead to me dying alone in my house with a bunch of cats. And maybe some puppies. That I would be very attached to.
Ha! There was an incredibly dramatic part of the party that, in retrospect, I enjoyed very much. Some fool on the porch was smoking and I started some relatively low-key argument with him about the likelihood of him getting cancer (I think he actually made me mad initially, though, by trying to get my friend to smoke, or calling me out for not looking happy with him smoking or something). The next thing I know, he is saying that he has more experience with cancer than I will ever have because he's an EMT. Bullshit. But, he wouldn't back down or even agree to disagree after I informed him that my best friend just died of leukemia. Instead, he proved himself a complete fucker by insisting that leukemia is a fairly easy way to die, and preferable to all other forms of cancer and some other forms of death. This made me irate and so I started ranting about reasons that it killed me to watch cancer killing Olive, one of which was that she lost her ability to smile because of partial facial paralysis, which in turn made her lose the ability to become as happy as she could have previously. (Smiling releases chemicals in your brain that make you marginally more happy.) He then said that this was complete bullshit, no matter what I had read, heard from doctors, or saw my best friend experience.
I definitely wish that I had used my virgin slap on him. Because I will probably have to wait a long time for someone who is as or more raving then this unfortunate human being. C'est la vie. All I did was walk back into the house, slamming the door so that the house shook and the entire party probably wondered what was going on.
This all sounds very upsetting, and it was at the time. I actually started crying. But then Caddie and Kay came and did an amazing 120-second job of comforting me to the point where I was completely fine. I was made even more "fine" by the fact that Caddie got her boyfriend to kick the assinine guy out of the party. Apparently he put up a little bit of argument after being told to leave and Caddie's boyfriend pushed him. I saw the rest through the window, which involved Caddie trying to hold Jordan back and his shirt ripping, and the guy trying to argue still, while Jordan ripped off the rest of his shirt and stood there. I swear to God they almost actually fought. I would never want Jordan to get into a fight, but I enjoyed the fact that the douche bag guy had to suffer the humiliation of getting kicked out of a party and having to walk away or else risk getting completely annihilated in a fight with Jordan.
All in all, it was a good night. Especially the fact that everyone dressed up. I love everyone who came. Except for the Terry v. Ohio guy (poor kid) and the "leukemia is not that bad" EMT jerk.
And the music rocked. I think its hilarious that people were so excited about dancing to N*Sync and the Spice Girls when it was mixed in with the hip hop and 80's. Heart!
"It is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all."
Saturday, January 20, 2007
Insomnia is a bitch
I never actually slept last night. Not even for half a second. I had that weird kind of insomnia where it felt like keeping my eyes closed actually took more muscle power and concentration than letting them stay open. So, as a result I had a loooong night of thinking about things and I decided that there are....
5 Off-hand Comments That Changed My Life:
(These are things that randomly came up and other people probably didn't think much about when they said it, but actually had an effect on the way I turned out.)
1. In 7th grade when I had recently met Anna (who I love to death), she was talking about how she didn't like being so skinny and blurted out, "I just wanted to be pleasantly plump like Phoebe!" She meant it as a compliment, but I did have quite a round face coming out of elementary school and I realized right then and there that I would have to change for middle school. So I cut my daily food intake in half, and became ridiculously thin by 8th grade. Seriously. I was like a Barbie, except without breasts, which in retrospect is closer to a Holocaust survivor than anything remotely sexy. Still, I stayed at about that size throughout high school (although I started eating regular amounts again in 8th grade), and I liked it. It could have been dangerous, I suppose, but it worked out fine for me.
2. This next comment is actually my own, but I think I can classify it as off-hand because I definitely wasn't conscious of saying it. Early on in high school I woke up sobbing from a bad dream, which is an utterly disconcerting experience that I have only had twice that I can remember. This particular time I had dreamt that I had been diagnosed with terminal cancer and would die at any time. More than anything else, my dream-self was apparently torn apart by the significance of not having a future on earth. All I could say in the dream was, "But, I'll never get to be a lawyer."
This off-hand comment haunted me for years, forever reminding me of humankind's frailty and that you cannot view your life as moving towards an end as in an age or career, because it could end at any time. This point was hammered home by the event that led to my second waking up to myself crying incident, which was Olive's death. However, the lesson in life perspective was actually better taught by the off-hand dream comment. It also let me know that maybe I should focus on being a lawyer since my dream-self seemed to be so passionate about it in the face of death.
3. After an incredibly boring year of school, my 9th grade student teacher returned a Magical Realism essay to me with the comment, "You don't seem to be reaching your full potential here." Damn straight, I wasn't. That was the most bullshit assignment that I had ever been given and I hadn't even blown it off. If she was expecting more than a convoluted story about love between a man and an inanimate object, she should have given a prompt that allowed it. Better yet, she should have been teaching about something other than the connection between Magical Realism in art and literature which has less application than anything I've ever learned in my life including how to snort water. [The water bit helped me to clear out my passages enough to go write five more essay pages after throwing up in the Odegaard bathroom last year.]
Anyway, her snarky red-inked comment pushed me over the edge, and that was the moment when I decided that I would definitely drop out of high school and start at the UW. This turned out to be an ok choice.
4. "(content censored)
5. "It's funny because the smart ones this year are the introverts, whereas in your year it was the extroverts."
-one of my favorite profs at the UW
I thought it was weird that he said this to me because he wouldn't have unless he was including me in the extroverted group, but I had been told that I was shy and introverted my whole life. I'm definitely still shy, but I also realized that I am actually an extrovert, something that was confirmed yesterday with the Myers-Briggs assessment which put me at ENFP. Apparently, I have ace intuition, but also constantly need affirmation from the people around me, and am "slightly silly." Yes, I would say ENFP=me. The reason that my prof's comment changed my life is that it changed my whole perspective of myself.
Ha! The best insomni-related off hand quote I've ever heard:
"I can't sleep." -JM Barrie, 1937 (creator of Peter Pan), upon saying this he promptly died.
5 Off-hand Comments That Changed My Life:
(These are things that randomly came up and other people probably didn't think much about when they said it, but actually had an effect on the way I turned out.)
1. In 7th grade when I had recently met Anna (who I love to death), she was talking about how she didn't like being so skinny and blurted out, "I just wanted to be pleasantly plump like Phoebe!" She meant it as a compliment, but I did have quite a round face coming out of elementary school and I realized right then and there that I would have to change for middle school. So I cut my daily food intake in half, and became ridiculously thin by 8th grade. Seriously. I was like a Barbie, except without breasts, which in retrospect is closer to a Holocaust survivor than anything remotely sexy. Still, I stayed at about that size throughout high school (although I started eating regular amounts again in 8th grade), and I liked it. It could have been dangerous, I suppose, but it worked out fine for me.
2. This next comment is actually my own, but I think I can classify it as off-hand because I definitely wasn't conscious of saying it. Early on in high school I woke up sobbing from a bad dream, which is an utterly disconcerting experience that I have only had twice that I can remember. This particular time I had dreamt that I had been diagnosed with terminal cancer and would die at any time. More than anything else, my dream-self was apparently torn apart by the significance of not having a future on earth. All I could say in the dream was, "But, I'll never get to be a lawyer."
This off-hand comment haunted me for years, forever reminding me of humankind's frailty and that you cannot view your life as moving towards an end as in an age or career, because it could end at any time. This point was hammered home by the event that led to my second waking up to myself crying incident, which was Olive's death. However, the lesson in life perspective was actually better taught by the off-hand dream comment. It also let me know that maybe I should focus on being a lawyer since my dream-self seemed to be so passionate about it in the face of death.
3. After an incredibly boring year of school, my 9th grade student teacher returned a Magical Realism essay to me with the comment, "You don't seem to be reaching your full potential here." Damn straight, I wasn't. That was the most bullshit assignment that I had ever been given and I hadn't even blown it off. If she was expecting more than a convoluted story about love between a man and an inanimate object, she should have given a prompt that allowed it. Better yet, she should have been teaching about something other than the connection between Magical Realism in art and literature which has less application than anything I've ever learned in my life including how to snort water. [The water bit helped me to clear out my passages enough to go write five more essay pages after throwing up in the Odegaard bathroom last year.]
Anyway, her snarky red-inked comment pushed me over the edge, and that was the moment when I decided that I would definitely drop out of high school and start at the UW. This turned out to be an ok choice.
4. "(content censored)
5. "It's funny because the smart ones this year are the introverts, whereas in your year it was the extroverts."
-one of my favorite profs at the UW
I thought it was weird that he said this to me because he wouldn't have unless he was including me in the extroverted group, but I had been told that I was shy and introverted my whole life. I'm definitely still shy, but I also realized that I am actually an extrovert, something that was confirmed yesterday with the Myers-Briggs assessment which put me at ENFP. Apparently, I have ace intuition, but also constantly need affirmation from the people around me, and am "slightly silly." Yes, I would say ENFP=me. The reason that my prof's comment changed my life is that it changed my whole perspective of myself.
Ha! The best insomni-related off hand quote I've ever heard:
"I can't sleep." -JM Barrie, 1937 (creator of Peter Pan), upon saying this he promptly died.
Friday, January 19, 2007
Pride and Prejudice
"Phoebe. Don't be dumb."
-Samantha, on my paranoia
I took one of those pills this morning and had 3 shots of coffee on top of that and felt like I was on speed. I loved it, though. I booked it to class like I was in Chariots of Fire, and then thoroughly annoyed all the people who were sitting around me in science because I wouldn't shut up. This lasted until 7 pm. Then, I started to clean and didn't stop until 2 am. It was entirely productive and extremely weird. I did three loads of laundry, I organized my desk, I cleaned the kitchen, I sorted all the recycling for my entire house, I crushed all the cans, I cleaned out two huge boxes of clothes, I put batteries in my lanterns, I went to Costco, I paid the gas bill, I called Comcast, I drove Mitch to school and picked Chloe up, I put in gas, I called my little sister, I set out candy and philosophy magnets for my roommates, I made mini-signs for the roommates who have been doing their chores, I cleaned my closet, and I only ate two turkey roll things the entire day.
Tomorrow I am going to have so much trouble waking up. I think I am killing brain cells, because I'm actually having a lot of trouble being articulate (hence all of this nonsense), and I actually had to re-read a new quote someone put on their facebook wall three times before I understood it.
I think I might actually have a fever. Hmph. That will be fabulous when I can't even go to my own house's party.
At least I don't have cancer yet. Did you know 1 in 8 American women will get breast cancer? For West African women it is only 1 in 100. That should be frightening, but I feel untouchable because what are the chances that both my best friend and I would die from cancer. Slim to none. I can do chemo if I ever have to, I would just prefer to stay alive at least until I can save the world. Or, alternately, until I can hold a koala. I am the perfect candidate for the Make-a-Wish foundation in terms of novel, but do-able "wishes", except that I haven't yet come down with anything.
Apparently, though, unless I start to drink milk right now, I am certain to get osteoperosis. I am a hypochondriac, but this one is probably true because I haven't actually drank a straight glass of milk (apart from lattes) since probably 7th grade.
Here's a thought: If you can correctly define the word abrogate and use it in a sentence without skipping a beat, I will be your friend for life. It's cheating to look it up in the dictionary (or Wikipedia). Oh, you're already my friend and don't know what it means? That's okay, I liked you anyway. But from now on, additional life-long friends must have a minimal level of intellect that is combined with superb diction. I'm tired of superficial and generally uninformed people who think that they are deep but are really just emo. I'm not saying that I'm deep or particularly genius, but at least I don't confuse mindless emo musings with intellectual conversation (this is particularly directed at past boys who think that you are impressive, but are staggeringly dumb). I really have no current issues with anyone in particular, but please, never ask me who Barack Obama is and then defend your ignorance with claims of political indifference. No, that is just incompetence at life.
And finally, to wrap up tonight's particularly spastic commentary...during my class, fall quarter, I decided that I had better read at least one of Goldwater's books before I completely condemn him in my mind. Well, I'm not completely finished, but I'm a good way through The Conscience of a Conservative and so far I have concluded that I was right all along. The man has only just stopped lecturing on the evils of taxation (federal aid for education? Good Lord, what is next?!), and now has started bitching about the "ill-conceived program" of U.S. foreign aid, and the United Nations, which "we must remember is, in part, a Communist organization".
I think Al Franken wrote a chapter once called "How I Bitch-Slapped Bernie Goodman". It would have been better if he had used Barry Goldwater.
"You puzzle me exceedingly. If what I have hitherto said can appear to you in the form of encouragement, I know not how to express my refusal in such a way as may convince you of its being one."
-Elizabeth Bennet
-Samantha, on my paranoia
I took one of those pills this morning and had 3 shots of coffee on top of that and felt like I was on speed. I loved it, though. I booked it to class like I was in Chariots of Fire, and then thoroughly annoyed all the people who were sitting around me in science because I wouldn't shut up. This lasted until 7 pm. Then, I started to clean and didn't stop until 2 am. It was entirely productive and extremely weird. I did three loads of laundry, I organized my desk, I cleaned the kitchen, I sorted all the recycling for my entire house, I crushed all the cans, I cleaned out two huge boxes of clothes, I put batteries in my lanterns, I went to Costco, I paid the gas bill, I called Comcast, I drove Mitch to school and picked Chloe up, I put in gas, I called my little sister, I set out candy and philosophy magnets for my roommates, I made mini-signs for the roommates who have been doing their chores, I cleaned my closet, and I only ate two turkey roll things the entire day.
Tomorrow I am going to have so much trouble waking up. I think I am killing brain cells, because I'm actually having a lot of trouble being articulate (hence all of this nonsense), and I actually had to re-read a new quote someone put on their facebook wall three times before I understood it.
I think I might actually have a fever. Hmph. That will be fabulous when I can't even go to my own house's party.
At least I don't have cancer yet. Did you know 1 in 8 American women will get breast cancer? For West African women it is only 1 in 100. That should be frightening, but I feel untouchable because what are the chances that both my best friend and I would die from cancer. Slim to none. I can do chemo if I ever have to, I would just prefer to stay alive at least until I can save the world. Or, alternately, until I can hold a koala. I am the perfect candidate for the Make-a-Wish foundation in terms of novel, but do-able "wishes", except that I haven't yet come down with anything.
Apparently, though, unless I start to drink milk right now, I am certain to get osteoperosis. I am a hypochondriac, but this one is probably true because I haven't actually drank a straight glass of milk (apart from lattes) since probably 7th grade.
Here's a thought: If you can correctly define the word abrogate and use it in a sentence without skipping a beat, I will be your friend for life. It's cheating to look it up in the dictionary (or Wikipedia). Oh, you're already my friend and don't know what it means? That's okay, I liked you anyway. But from now on, additional life-long friends must have a minimal level of intellect that is combined with superb diction. I'm tired of superficial and generally uninformed people who think that they are deep but are really just emo. I'm not saying that I'm deep or particularly genius, but at least I don't confuse mindless emo musings with intellectual conversation (this is particularly directed at past boys who think that you are impressive, but are staggeringly dumb). I really have no current issues with anyone in particular, but please, never ask me who Barack Obama is and then defend your ignorance with claims of political indifference. No, that is just incompetence at life.
And finally, to wrap up tonight's particularly spastic commentary...during my class, fall quarter, I decided that I had better read at least one of Goldwater's books before I completely condemn him in my mind. Well, I'm not completely finished, but I'm a good way through The Conscience of a Conservative and so far I have concluded that I was right all along. The man has only just stopped lecturing on the evils of taxation (federal aid for education? Good Lord, what is next?!), and now has started bitching about the "ill-conceived program" of U.S. foreign aid, and the United Nations, which "we must remember is, in part, a Communist organization".
I think Al Franken wrote a chapter once called "How I Bitch-Slapped Bernie Goodman". It would have been better if he had used Barry Goldwater.
"You puzzle me exceedingly. If what I have hitherto said can appear to you in the form of encouragement, I know not how to express my refusal in such a way as may convince you of its being one."
-Elizabeth Bennet
Thursday, January 18, 2007
Band-Aids Are Lifesavers
This Christmas grew my band-aid collection to 10 boxes. There are no plain ones and no repeats. My favorite are the Seseme Street ones that I am actually running out of.
The reason that I like band-aids so much is because they are the perfect example of being handed life's lemons and making lemonade...or if you are especially inventive, making pink panty-droppers. Whenever you get a cut, instead of simply being bloody or in pain, you can slap on a Batman strip and all of a sudden it stops hurting, you can't see the blood, and you are making a happy little fashion statement on your finger. I just got a cut and I will be wearing one tomorrow...perhaps one of the koala ones. And in the end, having a pink-panty dropper is actually more fun than not having to deal with the lemon in the first place.
Anyway, I am being supremely dumb as a result of my lack of sleep and incessant sneezing that is interrupting any hope of a train of thought, but I was really making a valiant effort to apply the band-aid/lemonade theory to the rest of my life today. I suffered through 2 hours of China class, but didn't actually die because I spent the entire time on AIM with Samantha. Point Phoebe. Then, I dealt with being cold by wearing a cute hat. Yes. Next, I got over being lonely at my meeting and having to walk back with the College Republican's (don't ask me how that even happened) by going to see Stephen who I normally would've seen and preventing him from studying Arabic. This may not have been positive for him, but it was for me (even more fun than if he would have been at YD's) because he did his imitations of people and made me laugh. Plus I got to tell him gossippy stories that I could only tell someone like him because everyone else would pass them along. Fabulous. Fiiiiiinally, I coped with not having juice by drinking water which, though yucky, will make me healthier. I think that this means that, as far as today goes, I win.
“Science without religion is lame, religion without science is blind.”
-Albert Einstein
The reason that I like band-aids so much is because they are the perfect example of being handed life's lemons and making lemonade...or if you are especially inventive, making pink panty-droppers. Whenever you get a cut, instead of simply being bloody or in pain, you can slap on a Batman strip and all of a sudden it stops hurting, you can't see the blood, and you are making a happy little fashion statement on your finger. I just got a cut and I will be wearing one tomorrow...perhaps one of the koala ones. And in the end, having a pink-panty dropper is actually more fun than not having to deal with the lemon in the first place.
Anyway, I am being supremely dumb as a result of my lack of sleep and incessant sneezing that is interrupting any hope of a train of thought, but I was really making a valiant effort to apply the band-aid/lemonade theory to the rest of my life today. I suffered through 2 hours of China class, but didn't actually die because I spent the entire time on AIM with Samantha. Point Phoebe. Then, I dealt with being cold by wearing a cute hat. Yes. Next, I got over being lonely at my meeting and having to walk back with the College Republican's (don't ask me how that even happened) by going to see Stephen who I normally would've seen and preventing him from studying Arabic. This may not have been positive for him, but it was for me (even more fun than if he would have been at YD's) because he did his imitations of people and made me laugh. Plus I got to tell him gossippy stories that I could only tell someone like him because everyone else would pass them along. Fabulous. Fiiiiiinally, I coped with not having juice by drinking water which, though yucky, will make me healthier. I think that this means that, as far as today goes, I win.
“Science without religion is lame, religion without science is blind.”
-Albert Einstein
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
Dashboard Confessional, anyone?
Okay, so I may be a little bit emo. Just a smidgen. I always complain when other people are emo on facebook and all other mediums of technology, but I am probably just doing an excellent job of projecting.
To add to the in-my-head list of why I am a bad person....I treat everyone 2 notches worse when I am feeling grumpy. This is especially bad because the most nonsense things can put me in a bad mood and trigger my shoddy treatment of my friends and enemies. Today I might be able to blame some of my psychotic-ness on PMS, but seriously, sometimes I just need to get the fuck over myself and be happy that I am not a baby in Central America dying of a diarrheal disease.
Olive and I always used to wonder how the world could be so unfair. On the one hand there are blonde bombshell American girls like Hillary Duff who have a completely charmed existence, and on the other hand you have babies dying of diarrheal diseases in the 3rd world. No amount of heartache from cheating celebrity boyfriends can rival the injustice of not surviving long enough to experience even babytalk.
Then again, Olive died two years later, so maybe thoughts about these type of questions are better left unspoken.
I resolve to be less emo tomorrow. I will enjoy the lack of snow, because I will not slip on the way to class. I will enjoy my huge 4 hour block of class because I like Game Theory, and even though I don't like China, I like having class with Samantha. I will enjoy going to YD's even though I have to stay on campus until 7pm to go to it because it will remind me that Barack Obama declared his candidacy for the 2008 Democratic Presidential nomination.
"You are who you pretend to be. "
-Kurt Vonnegut
To add to the in-my-head list of why I am a bad person....I treat everyone 2 notches worse when I am feeling grumpy. This is especially bad because the most nonsense things can put me in a bad mood and trigger my shoddy treatment of my friends and enemies. Today I might be able to blame some of my psychotic-ness on PMS, but seriously, sometimes I just need to get the fuck over myself and be happy that I am not a baby in Central America dying of a diarrheal disease.
Olive and I always used to wonder how the world could be so unfair. On the one hand there are blonde bombshell American girls like Hillary Duff who have a completely charmed existence, and on the other hand you have babies dying of diarrheal diseases in the 3rd world. No amount of heartache from cheating celebrity boyfriends can rival the injustice of not surviving long enough to experience even babytalk.
Then again, Olive died two years later, so maybe thoughts about these type of questions are better left unspoken.
I resolve to be less emo tomorrow. I will enjoy the lack of snow, because I will not slip on the way to class. I will enjoy my huge 4 hour block of class because I like Game Theory, and even though I don't like China, I like having class with Samantha. I will enjoy going to YD's even though I have to stay on campus until 7pm to go to it because it will remind me that Barack Obama declared his candidacy for the 2008 Democratic Presidential nomination.
"You are who you pretend to be. "
-Kurt Vonnegut
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
Valentine's Day
I have never ever ever had a boyfriend on Valentine's Day. I have dumped boyfriends right before Valentine's Day multiple times, but never had the utilitarian realization that waiting until after V-Day to split might make for better enjoyment all around. Of course, I would be seen as a manipulative bitch who waited until I had cleaned up on the luvvy-duvvy gifts before cutting random suckers loose.
Then again, as you can probably tell by my use of the term random sucker, ex-boyfriends generally begin to consider me as a manipulative bitch anyway because 1) they are hurt that I dumped them, and 2) they subconsciously realize that the reason I dumped them is because I decided that they were perhaps not as intelligent and entertaining as I previously thought. Relationships and me are not a match made in heaven because of my extremely short attention span. I am a little girl in more ways than one.
Granted, looking young is another factor that leads to the lack of worthwhile boyfriends. Like Jesus says, when you look like you are 12 years old, the guys that think you are hot are the ones with pedophilic tendencies [read: skeezy boys]. Not to say that I will never be liked by anyone who is not off, just to say that it doesn't happen often.
But, I do know that it is true what everyone says about me looking young. Chloe tries to tell me that it is just our guy roommates making fun of me, but I have 2 unquestionably decisive examples to the contrary.
Example 1: This summer I go "home" and attend my parents church for the first time. They introduce me as their oldest daughter who was away at school for the past year, and say that the separation was new for our family. You would usually assume that being away from family for the first time probably meant that you were a freshman in college. This would be incorrect in my case, but still a valid guess, especially considering mine is an age within the college freshman range. But instead, multiple people thought that I was in high school and invited me to join the high school youth group. Specifically, and humiliatingly they somehow thought that I was a high school freshman...spending my high school years at a far away boarding school for some reason? I don't know.
Example 2: On the way back to Sea-town at the end of the summer, I sit in the exit row on the plane. The flight attendent comes up to me and says, "I'm sorry, hon, but are you 15 yet? Because otherwise you can't sit in the exit row." When I informed her that I was fully 4 years older than 15 she looked at me like I had offended her and said "Well, you certainly look awwwfully young, dear," and pranced away.
This is why I am generally jaded with the concept of Valentine's Day. I extremely open to being shown that a Valentine's Day where you are not single and also not dating someone you can't seem to like is possible, but I am pessimistic about this year's chances for that kind of experience.
"I'm not bitter, I'm cynically hopeful"
-Shirt bought with Olive
Then again, as you can probably tell by my use of the term random sucker, ex-boyfriends generally begin to consider me as a manipulative bitch anyway because 1) they are hurt that I dumped them, and 2) they subconsciously realize that the reason I dumped them is because I decided that they were perhaps not as intelligent and entertaining as I previously thought. Relationships and me are not a match made in heaven because of my extremely short attention span. I am a little girl in more ways than one.
Granted, looking young is another factor that leads to the lack of worthwhile boyfriends. Like Jesus says, when you look like you are 12 years old, the guys that think you are hot are the ones with pedophilic tendencies [read: skeezy boys]. Not to say that I will never be liked by anyone who is not off, just to say that it doesn't happen often.
But, I do know that it is true what everyone says about me looking young. Chloe tries to tell me that it is just our guy roommates making fun of me, but I have 2 unquestionably decisive examples to the contrary.
Example 1: This summer I go "home" and attend my parents church for the first time. They introduce me as their oldest daughter who was away at school for the past year, and say that the separation was new for our family. You would usually assume that being away from family for the first time probably meant that you were a freshman in college. This would be incorrect in my case, but still a valid guess, especially considering mine is an age within the college freshman range. But instead, multiple people thought that I was in high school and invited me to join the high school youth group. Specifically, and humiliatingly they somehow thought that I was a high school freshman...spending my high school years at a far away boarding school for some reason? I don't know.
Example 2: On the way back to Sea-town at the end of the summer, I sit in the exit row on the plane. The flight attendent comes up to me and says, "I'm sorry, hon, but are you 15 yet? Because otherwise you can't sit in the exit row." When I informed her that I was fully 4 years older than 15 she looked at me like I had offended her and said "Well, you certainly look awwwfully young, dear," and pranced away.
This is why I am generally jaded with the concept of Valentine's Day. I extremely open to being shown that a Valentine's Day where you are not single and also not dating someone you can't seem to like is possible, but I am pessimistic about this year's chances for that kind of experience.
"I'm not bitter, I'm cynically hopeful"
-Shirt bought with Olive
Sunday, January 14, 2007
21 is awkward.
I used to hate not being 21. Out of the nine of my roommates, six of them are party age and are no longer around on the weekends anymore. Instead of me buying everyone 21st birthday presents this year, I feel like they should be buying me going away presents…pity alcohol, if you will.
But, tonight I have decided that I can probably handle being younger than everyone else. There are certain things that are miraculously avoided by not being quite legal yet.
Having been social and gone out last night, we decided that tonight would be a very low-key ghetto college night. Pizza A-Mart delivery at 1 am bought with the help of the Student Survival Guide coupons. It actually turns out that we have been living the ghetto college life this entire week (no doubt preparing for MLK Day, by experiencing a life devoid of all the normal ammentities), complete with calls from the power company saying that our electricity will be shut off in two days unless we pay our bill. Even after we paid over the phone, we lost electricity twice today because every time we turn on a hairdryer it blows the circuit.
Anyway, at about 2 am the roommates start rolling back in from the bars and the clubs. The first girl guest comes over to spend the night with one of the guy roommates. There is an awkward moment as we try and fail to warn her that the bathroom she is heading into does not have toilet paper (and hasn’t for 5 days). That particular bathroom is the guys’ one and it doesn’t even have tissues. I feel bad, but seriously, her date (our roommate) is the one who should have warned her about ghetto week.
At 3 am the girl roommates come back with 3 guys in tow. That’s hot and all, but there is an extra guy which inevitably leads to a sort of musical bedrooms game. The extra one ends up chilling in the living room with us, listening to the sounds of other things wafting through doors as we try to turn the TV up as loud as possible. This one is upset that he basically lost tonight, but we assure him that hook-up karma is very good and will benefit him later. It is funny that he is the one who lost, because on top of being funny, he did not look like Jesus (as in the Nazarene, not my friend Hay-suse), which one of the successful guys did. Jesus is great and all, but how would you like feel like you were having sex with him. Awkward.
4 am, one of the guys who won the initial grab a girl-find a bedroom game bursts back into the room, shirt on backwards and inside out, swearing to never cuddle with a drunk girl again. He is pissed off…literally. Apparently, after not getting any and having trouble falling asleep, he felt something warm and wet on his leg that turned out to be my roommate peeing on him. Every two seconds his is muttering unintelligible things under his breath starting with “Jesus Christ” and ending with “fucking peed”.
The left-out guy becomes satisfied in his karma, which turned out to have helped him avoid the puddle in the bed situation that could have been his.
5 am we finally head to bed, leaving the non-Jesus boys on couches in the living room. We find the unfortunate one’s boxers in the garbage in our bathroom, and I am glad that I am not a 21 year-old boy who was left-out, looking like Jesus, or was pissed on, or a 21 year-old girl sleeping with a Jesus-twin or peeing on someone else. I will continue to be 19 if I can avoid all that shiznit, and just be able to watch and giggle from the couch.
"None are so old as those who have outlived enthusiasm."
-Thoreau
But, tonight I have decided that I can probably handle being younger than everyone else. There are certain things that are miraculously avoided by not being quite legal yet.
Having been social and gone out last night, we decided that tonight would be a very low-key ghetto college night. Pizza A-Mart delivery at 1 am bought with the help of the Student Survival Guide coupons. It actually turns out that we have been living the ghetto college life this entire week (no doubt preparing for MLK Day, by experiencing a life devoid of all the normal ammentities), complete with calls from the power company saying that our electricity will be shut off in two days unless we pay our bill. Even after we paid over the phone, we lost electricity twice today because every time we turn on a hairdryer it blows the circuit.
Anyway, at about 2 am the roommates start rolling back in from the bars and the clubs. The first girl guest comes over to spend the night with one of the guy roommates. There is an awkward moment as we try and fail to warn her that the bathroom she is heading into does not have toilet paper (and hasn’t for 5 days). That particular bathroom is the guys’ one and it doesn’t even have tissues. I feel bad, but seriously, her date (our roommate) is the one who should have warned her about ghetto week.
At 3 am the girl roommates come back with 3 guys in tow. That’s hot and all, but there is an extra guy which inevitably leads to a sort of musical bedrooms game. The extra one ends up chilling in the living room with us, listening to the sounds of other things wafting through doors as we try to turn the TV up as loud as possible. This one is upset that he basically lost tonight, but we assure him that hook-up karma is very good and will benefit him later. It is funny that he is the one who lost, because on top of being funny, he did not look like Jesus (as in the Nazarene, not my friend Hay-suse), which one of the successful guys did. Jesus is great and all, but how would you like feel like you were having sex with him. Awkward.
4 am, one of the guys who won the initial grab a girl-find a bedroom game bursts back into the room, shirt on backwards and inside out, swearing to never cuddle with a drunk girl again. He is pissed off…literally. Apparently, after not getting any and having trouble falling asleep, he felt something warm and wet on his leg that turned out to be my roommate peeing on him. Every two seconds his is muttering unintelligible things under his breath starting with “Jesus Christ” and ending with “fucking peed”.
The left-out guy becomes satisfied in his karma, which turned out to have helped him avoid the puddle in the bed situation that could have been his.
5 am we finally head to bed, leaving the non-Jesus boys on couches in the living room. We find the unfortunate one’s boxers in the garbage in our bathroom, and I am glad that I am not a 21 year-old boy who was left-out, looking like Jesus, or was pissed on, or a 21 year-old girl sleeping with a Jesus-twin or peeing on someone else. I will continue to be 19 if I can avoid all that shiznit, and just be able to watch and giggle from the couch.
"None are so old as those who have outlived enthusiasm."
-Thoreau
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