By the way. I am formulating a new blog that will be my home while i'm in Spain. This way I can post as many pictures and invite as many family members as I would like to see it. I won't leave half what for good, of course, I just won't post as often. Address TBA.

Everyone's talking about getting kicked off. Really, I should be ashamed of myself. Ample time to do nothing but post and I have been doing nothing of the sort. Nothing really at all, for that matter. Here I am, halfway between Christmas and New Year's and still thinking Spain is further than less than two weeks away... the furthest i'm thinking is tomorrow. Maybe Saturday, because I would like to know what I will be doing for New Year's. But it's sneaking up... And I'm going to have to think about packing and how i'm going to speak Spanish and how i'm going to meet new people and pass my classes and... I sound like i'm dreading it. I'm not.

Home!

Wow, we must be getting older, people go back to school sooner and sooner, and some don't even leave in the first place. Anyway the point is, I have a week or so left in San Diego, and everyone's leaving me already! I guess this gives me more time to study (why am I such a nerd??) but *sigh* I don't really want to.

Another sign I'm getting older? I'm able to have better conversations with my parents that are more personal and less political. But there's still that damn language barrier... but that'll get broken down one day hopefully.

Last sign (but I noticed this a couple years ago), I have to watch out who I'm checking out. Some people just look so much older than they really are!

Three Inches of Wonder

It's amazing what a hot pair of heels will do for one's self-esteem. For some reason, being three inches taller makes my world just a little more beautiful.

Alack, Alas

I am home!

Chronic-what?-cles

I'm sorry I have to post this link from SNL on Saturday. It was hilarious. Please watch this :)

http://youtube.com/watch.php?v=zLElfJ9YCh0

It'll be worth your two minutes!

Hey, it's New Kid's Little Sister!

I'm sure you all ran out to your doorsteps or grocery stores to grab the paper yesterday when you heard that your neighborhood virtuoso had his mug in it.


Yay, Ray!

Okay, so before I get kicked off, here goes.

Past week's been pretty cool, I finished my finals on Monday (3 in one day! It sucked!), and my roommates were pretty much done also. So it's really cool, because even if I dont' find anything to do with other people, pretty much there's always something going on at our place, even if it is just a bunch of people hanging out watching trashy tv. Speaking of trashy tv, three out of the four of us have become addicted to project runway. Those people are such spazzes, it's great, and it's only the 2nd episode. Just picture them later on in the season. I can't wait.

I haven't been doing much in the way of partying though... oh wait that's a lie, I had some hypnotique last night. That stuff is so weird. Like you can smell and feel the alcohol but you can't taste it.

Alright, update's over. I'll be seeing 2 of the three of you on saturday!

Which reminds me... HAPPY BIRTHDAY JULI!!!!!

As has already been proven, I don't do well when I have nothing to do. And I have nothing to do. And at day four of being home with nothing to do, i'm not doing well.

Update v. 2.0

Snow

23°F
Feels Like
13°F

An Update

Clear
17°F
Feels Like
2°F

I'm pretty sure I'm gonna get kicked off soon if I don't post. My life is school right now and it's entirely too jam packed with end of the year projects and finals coming up to even think about other stuff right now. Please don't hate me for not posting and please come to my bday party on the 17th. Let me know if you can come and I'll fill you in on details later.

PS- Linz, of course it's okay!

Out of Desire, not Consolation

Yesterday, it snowed. Not just flurries, not just like the fake plastic icing in a can that you could spray on boughs in San Diego--no, this is snow! Three to six beautiful, bright white inches of snow!

And what did I do in it? I played ultimate.

No rants about ultimate here, they are inconsequential at best. Suffice it to say that frisbee in Warwick was colder than a turd in a freezer (not that I keep turds in freezers) and that this winter will be a time to make myself an ultimate machine!

Today, with the residue of illness still festering in my nostrils and muscles, I went to class and was revitalized, reenthused, reinfused by some sort of faith in discussion and learning. In my expos class, we had a discussion about the obligations of literature, and art, in there is any, and my preceptor, to my great surprise, deigned to mention that this is what our essays, or essays in general about art, should ultimately seek to answer. He set the dangling carrot down on the table briefly, and chewed on it himself.

Still, the ideas seem fleeting and self-indulgent, but I'm thinking there might be something to the objective existence of them. We'll see!

Wrought isn't a word. Rather, it's a word that doesn't mean what I think it means. It means wrought-iron fence. It also means "work." I need it to mean "filled." In my head, filled doesn't quite have the same connotations as wrought. But to everyone else, I look like an idiot.

Milton Essay Extraordinaire

"The fall was necessary to facilitate the growth and advance of the human population — it’s the reason all six billion-plus people of the world are not crammed into the Garden of Eden, having sex and pruning the trees."

My professor argues that our world essentially is Milton's Garden of Eden. I think he's going to laugh when he reads that line, because i'm saying that essentially all we do is have sex and prune the trees.

I was sitting at my desk this afternoon, enjoying the quiet of my apartment and the gentle arrival of the fog, when I heard a crash. There are door slams and bottles breaking, but there's only one sound that emanates when one car crashes into another. Outside my house there was a city bus stopped, and a little red car barely visible that had pulled out of a driveway prematurely. Then there were people, and two police cars, and two firetrucks.

I didn't look. I hope that since I saw no ambulance, and heard no screaming or crying, that the driver of the little red car wasn't hurt by the bus that crashed into his/her driver's side door.

I'm pretty sure it takes a lot of bilingual talent to listen to music in english while writing an essay and reading in spanish.

Hot & Bothered

They keep the rooms so warm here, no matter how chilly or swarmy it is outside. I've been in my room all day, almost (but not quite) moist with sweat, filled with ballooning dreams and misgivings, feeling my limbs like tenuously connected lumps of junk metal, sore steel and 6-tons of brass in each buttock, each arm, a stone of terrifying pain in my calf and slivers of worry in my shins; disgust at the courage that isn't there and the spiraling optimism; and I'm sitting here watching the clock tick by minutes that I'm not at practice.

I forgot how much fun it is to analyze poems. I'm serious. Tonight I decided to tackle "A Dialogue Between the Soul and Body," a poem I specifically remember being afraid of senior year when I was assigned to read it. It's keeping me interested, and my brain is hurting from the challenge. I remember why i'm an English major. For some reason, I like to do this stuff. And though I may detest the boring lectures and empty readings teachers like to barate us with, and question my major, I really do like it.

"So that either is not what you mean or plain wrong."

After cleaning my room (organizing all books by height and type), napping for 3 or 5 minutes at a time, eating dinner (and punishing myself with a chickwich), playing a really successful game of Expert Minesweeper for 588 seconds before failing with only 10 mines left to find, skipping frisbee practice for expos's sake, I have no thesis. I have no observations. I have nothing original to write about the Fall River Axe Murders. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. Zip.

Olfactory Hues

After almost three months in Cambridge, I have decided that college is unequivocally, unfortunately, and inexplicably smelly.

Whether it is the pungent, not-quite-urine-not-quite-vomit- not-quite-menstrual smell emanating from a mysterious (and unlocatable) corner of the bathroom or the thick dead animal smell of the practice room or the striking body odor of afrazzled, hungover grad student T.F. as he sweeps by, arms up, trying to demonstrate a concept in French, everywhere there are unpleasant smells that I either cannot locate the root of or that I cannot do anything about.

And these smells, they are only unpleasant to the degree of annoyance, because it seems that everyone has something more important to do than eradicate them.

This reminds me of the time at home that I unknowingly had a cup of soymilk sitting on my desk that periodically belched foul, fermented gas.

These are the things I articulate when I have an essay to write.

Home.

At my home for another 14 days. Two weeks to finish up my classes, take finals, write papers, say goodbye to my job, my friends, Santa Barbara. I feel like summer is approaching... but Europe is. This is so weird.

I'm sorry for not posting very often, but I really haven't had too much to say. Like there's a lot on my mind, like I've been spending a lot of time just lying around thinking because for some reason I dont' want to do anything else, but nothing that really deserves to be written about really. Plus, there's always a lot on my mind, my neck is sore my head so damn heavy... HAHAHAHAHA!
ANYways, I'm trying to figure out what I want to do over the next summer. I really want to travel somewhere, but not in a study abroad or school/company/intership travel program manner because that's just way too expensive and I still need to time to fill out med school apps and take the MCATs again if I need to. I need something more flexible. Anyone wanna go somewhere with me? I'm not all too picky as to where, just anywhere but here. Speaking of the Ataris, they have samples of new songs posted on their myspace page... and I've decided that I agree that it is weird that bands have myspace pages.

Ever reach that stage of tiredness where you want to go to sleep, but you're so lazy that you don't want to get ready for bed?

Told ya I didn't have too much to say.

I was going to write a conclusion to my last thought, but I was distracted by the pomegranate. I wanted to buy one the other day, but I decided I couldn't possibly eat it A) by myself, and B) without my ex-roommie who's studying in France for the year. Last year we ate one while writing papers on our respective computers, the juicy seeds stored in a coffee pot that sat between us.

Yesterday

I ate a pomegranate.

I was in full packing mode this afternoon, chair blocking the doorway, piles filling the small aisle between my desk and bed, on the phone, music booming. At that opportune moment, my roommate returned home, engaged in loud conversation with her boyfriend, and expected to enter our room with her laundry basket. I closed my eyes and turned away, reluctant to break the seal to my solitude, disrupt the method to my madness.

There's a conclusion to that thought, I swear.

So... this is kind of late but, HAPPY 21st B-DAY AVALON AND STEVE!!!!!!!!! I hope this week(end) has been awesome for you guys so far. Well I dont hope... I know, because I just spent it with you guys.

Bullocks!

Jane Monheit at the Berklee Performance Center on December 9... $26!

Absolutely ridiculous.

Running in Boston

Made me remember this.

And so it begins... (v. 5.0)

It seems that every time I celebrate a return to running, I end up wrapped in my towel, face still a deep sanguine (I was looking for a word that evoked the image of dark pink fleshy meat) color, hair dripping from a shower that couldn't get cold enough--blogging. What an awful sentence that was. I'm sure some literary titan or Expos preceptor could analyze the hell out of a stupid, simply poorly constructed sentence like that. Something about the anticipation of the action being intensified by the passive nature of the description and the parenthetical comment revealing the narrator's ... oh to flaming hell with literary analysis. For serious. For love of all things serious.

So today I ran in Cambridge around the Charles. I felt strong. The cold air held me like sashimi in a bed of ice, and it wasn't until I stopped moving that I felt my face flush that familiar color which would make everyone ask if I was okay. The entire run was basically flat. I was wearing long sleeves. I'll keep you updated.

Foliage

I took myself on a day trip to LA today.

6 hours of on and off driving, some traffic, some unprotected left-hand turns.
3 hours of waiting, 5 mins of talking to the (hot) consulate man.
1 hour of shopping at Amoeba, yielding no purchases.

On the bright side, I will have a visa in 45 days.

Oh please, EVERYONE's heard of THEM...

Everytime I keep thinking that I'm not as into music as a used to be due to my growing resentment towards the attitudes people take on music (fine, no one's heard of your new favorite post-modern ethereal 20-piece musical discovery... it doesn't make it good, it just makes you a douche), I find myself listening to 10 new cds all in one sitting. I have to listen to music when I wake up in the morning, when I study, when I go to sleep. As music scenes merge, divide, and fight, I just have to keep on listening...

What did you huck this weekend?

I went to Rhode Island this weekend for Brown's Huck a Hunk o' Burnin' Pumpkin Halloween Ultimate Frisbee Tournament. A mouthful, no?

I'm starting to feel that familiar concern again, that familiar obsession-- I once posted, way back in the heyday of our TPHS shared blogs, about a cross country race that involved buckets of rain, shoes of mud, and tons of steaming, pure adrenalin. I wrote about loving sport for that feeling of 125% exertion, vomit at the end of the race, running so that there are no regrets. I felt that today, when we lost a game to Columbia, whom we beat decisively just two weeks ago at Yale, whom we should have beaten today, and who fumbled stumbled bumbled their way to serving us our asses and egos today. I never was good at cross country, and I'm a long ways from being an ultimate player, but there was that frustration today, the depression that came from regret of dropping a good put, or not running down a huck, or not getting on defense fast enough and watching the other team score. It was depressing as hell to lose, but on second thought, knowing that I felt it at all was refreshing. Sport is instant pleasure: play hard, feel good. Hot damn diggity, dear Halfwhat readers, in this post I profess my love for ultimate frisbee and the swift, skilled people who play it. How terribly silly.

VIVA LE SPORT!

Juli says the best cure for hangovers are waffles, Sgt. Pepper's, closed blinds, and sleep.

I am inclined to agree.

A Simple Request

I would like somebody with a sweet digital SLR camera to take a sweet picture of me doing something sweet, like chasing a disc (and clearly getting to it), laying out or "saying NO!" or laying out.

That is all.

Just so you guys know...

I am working WAY hard to get all my work done before you I see you guys (Juli and Linds) on Thursday. All for you two! Be grateful.

Oh, I'm so excited!

Facebook whore

I'm turning into a facebook whore! Lindsey, Jen, and a couple Megans probably noticed all the crazy pictures I've put up. And if not, look at the pictures of you guys tagged by others. I'm sure you'll all hate me :)

So much more fun than accounting homework!

A friend thought she was cool the other day when she told me she didn't have time to read the newspaper that I spend so much time producing. I was thinking, but didn't say, that one can't not have time for current events, because the world still happens even when you're absorbed in yourself.

Nevertheless, she didn't have time to read about the Halloween parking situation in this crazy town, and when she got to her car this morning, she had two tickets.

Well she's lucky she didn't get towed. But it proves my point: those who don't have time for current events get screwed by them.

(vote)

Yesterday was a holiday. And though I didn't deserve the free time, I gave myself a whole day of it. I had a big leisurely breakfast with friends, I did nothing, I lazed around in my pjs, I napped. Then, of course, I went out -- got dressed in my saloon girl finery, put on tons of makeup, curled my hair. The night was good I suppose, full of fragmented fun with many different friends and aquaintances in different places, walking around long after my feet started hurting from my high-heels and fishnets. I fell asleep on a friend's bed while the whole group of them were still talking and laughing in the next room.

Today is Sunday. And I have to get some work done. No more Halloween or holiday for me.

I did return home this morning to a heavy birthday bag that had appeared on my chair. (Thank you, darling)

You've got the music in you. So what?

Yesterday, I saw my first snow. I didn't get to tell anybody that.

Big wet chunks feathery ice floating-- rain parading in furs. From the fourth floor of a building the air is filled, you feel as though there should not be space for you if you go outside, or that it ought to bear you up if you were to jump into it.

Everything was gently capped white.

Today you wouldn't know it: it's 65 degrees and sunny, all the white gone. Only puddles (which could have been anything but snow) and my memory--and I've found that that memory doesn't mean much. I walked along the Charles this morning, slow, dragging my feet (probably hoping for someone to come save me), and watched the nightmare perfect New England scene and tried to feel enchantment again, and I couldn't conjure anything up. [They say, or I've heard, that it is technically true that one cannot recall the sensation of pain, one may remember feeling hurt, but not be able to actually feel the feeling again. (This is why women continue having babies.)]

So I just listened to the New Radicals and I just want to believe them. But love is saying difficult things. That's what I always tell myself when my feet are weak, when I find bruises on my hands and head and legs and arms and remember later how they got there: this is hard, and it is worth it. It must be. Saying exactly what one means is a difficult thing; an academic pursuit of a supreme and infallible ability to discern, elucidate, articulate, communicate-- To be accurate. To be right. To be truthful. To be wise. To act just. Will just thinking harder allow me to understand and resolve? I don't know how things can happen-- brain function, music and literature, language acquisition. I get the feeling that thinking harder won't do the trick. I don't know if this has to do with law (Is this right?) if thing A happens then B must be true. If B is true, C is invalid. Can it be? Sleep. Drink. Eat. Procrastinate.

Drunk Dialing

Don't you hate it when one of your friends calls you totally drunk and keeps slurring about all this stuff that's gone on so far tonight? Hahahaha- I love it :)

You're the best Lindsey! Can't wait to see you in like 5 days! LeeAnn, you should come to LA too... the rest of Half What will be there =D

I love my room arrangements!

The combination of my inclination to rise early, my roommate's inclination to have her boyfriend over or to be over at her boyfriend's, and the necessary placement of my desk outside my room due to its size just resulted in a delightful scenario.

Maybe bittersweet is the term i'm looking for.

Bittersweet.

Turn Turn Turn

I wish I was better at changing. Rather, dealing with change.

My parents have always said, even as a baby, I have a tough time with change -- diaper changes, baths, changes in location -- and today it still rings true. I've almost gotten used to the ever-changing college world I live in, the constant class changes, the frequent moves, but I constantly struggle with the changing dynamics among things that are close to me -- my friends, my boyfriends, my occupations. Maybe no one's really good at these difficult decisions, but I wish I was more positive about the opportunity for change. I usually end up appreciating them after they're over. It's easy to see what doors opened a few weeks or months down the road, but in the midst, all I see is a closed door.

Reguardless, what happens, happens, right? What's done is done?

The U-T Story
The U-T Editorial by Logan Jenkins
The Editorial by Marsha Sutton

Everything will Change (Ooh)

I have a newfound appreciation for this song (The Postal Service - Brand New Colony) and its nintendo intro. Mostly for the nintendo intro.

Oh, I've been keeping up with the news. I am the news.

I wanted study diligently for a midterm I have on Friday when I returned home from work this evening, but instead I found myself absorbed in research for an article i'm doing tomorrow on National Take Affirmative Action Day. It will be my third article of the week. I love editing, I love writing, and reporting... but each day the newspaper sucks away my focus, my ability to form coherant sentences, and my ability to read. I have two overdue response papers to write, a 2-3 page essay, and a Spanish test to study for. This could be a problem.

Just Call Me Captain Backfire

I'm listening to John Mayer's Stupid Mouth and thinking of high school.

I hope you all have been keeping up with the news!

Cambridge

Last week, Cambridge flirted with us: she was beautiful: precocious trees blushing and burning and frisky in brisk air, the sky blue and stuck with pearled clouds, clotted paint, and the wind perpetually moving, blowing, so that you can never smell the smoke when you walk by another bundled pedestrian with a jeweled, glowing cigarette in his hand. It was one of those quaint New England nightmare perfect scenes (and thanks to my short fiction class, I have learned that with Lizzie Bordon and Chappaquiddick and John Cheever to its name, New England is full of nightmares).

I recently read a piece of short fiction that described a man this way: "He looked like a veteran of middle-age and wore the trappings of his compromised taste in fashion like battle scars: short-cuffed pants and creepy Italian leather sandals." I liked the phrase immensely: "his compromised taste in fashion." A compromise forced upon him by middle age; his clothes the trappings of age, can you imagine?

Now, Cambridge is dark and gusty, blustering with fury because Wilma upset her, and now the precocious trees have lost their pretty leaves, which are extinguished, flattened, plastered wet to the ground. The last thing I read was Joyce Carol Oates's Black Water, a novella loosely based on Ted Kennedy's adventure in Chappaquiddick. I use "adventure" in that stupid ironic sense, since he killed a young woman. Oates writes like a record whose grooves are all wrong and keep leading you back to the same point, or more accurately perhaps, a terrifying funhouse with all of her banal and overused themes reflecting back and repeating and never relenting and only because of their oppressive repetition are they made terrifying.

I have a headache (I think I thought it up, because I was fine 20 minutes ago), and it's not piercing, thank goodness, just a hard, tumic sensation. It's been growing for a while; I hope it's not a caffeine dependence. I feel like the end of the beginning is coming soon, and I have no conclusions about college life--all I know is that it's cold, windy, I've got a paper to write and things to read, and I haven't smiled in a long time.

The rain and gloom have begun. Like an itch that won't go away, it is not so much actively annoying, as it is subtly, disruptively annoying.

I like the rain. I liked taking a nap this afternoon to get out of the cold. I liked curling up on my couch with a blanket and some reading. I liked listening to my upstairs neighbors have rainy-day sex on a squeaky bed. I like that it reminds me of the depressing winter and spring...

Oh wait. I mean, I like that I get all wet and cold when riding my bike.

Wishing for sun...

I'm back on the board!

I realized that I didn't have a post on this page anymore, and that's just not right. I don't wanna get kicked off... again...

Okay, so life's cool. My apt has to meet with our landlord about that party we had on friday for my b-day (which wasn't even very loud or crazy, because that's not how I roll), but hopefully we'll just get yelled at and nothing more. What lame neigherbors I have...

After that, on Saturday I went home to go out to dinner with my parents and celebrate with them. The most notable thing to come out of that is that I drove to San Diego and back all by myself for the first time! And it wasn't even that bad! Kudos to me.

I don't like people asking me about my love life, especially if it's just to tell me that they've found someone... so I'll just say it. No, a love life does not exist for me. Yes, I am still single, and I have no plans on changing that, I have trouble enough holding onto my friends.

Now that i'm uber involved at the newspaper, all my friends and their friends and their friends call me to get publicity for their events, clubs, projects, etc. Do I look like free advertising?

I was late on LeeAnn's bday, I can be late on Jen's too. HAPPY BIRTHDAY JEN! So there.

Juli, you don't appear to belong in Half What -- the rest of us have October birthdays.

And now she's 20!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MISS JEN FENG!
I hope you have an amazing party on Friday. I shall see you when I come to LA November 3 (I hope)!

I'm that editor I hated freshman and sophomore year. The one who changes my story to the point that it's barely recognizeable. The one that calls me five times to check facts, and jokes with the other editors while i'm sitting there waiting and when I leave. I'm the editor that runs out to get Freebirds for dinner and can't remember my name.

The point is, that i'm an editor. And the little reporter whose story I read today told me I was a lot nicer than any of the editors she's worked with before. I'm ready for more.


PS HAPPY BIRTHDAY LEEANN (a bit late...) Let's all wish her a big Boston birthday! :-)

Boston, Rejoice!

The Boston skies have broken! The steel shell of rain and wind yields to the glorious winds, which blow so as to make our Goldfish plant Hagrid fall off the sill! And the Sun! It shines on Boston today!

At 11:00 AM, Boston, MA was experiencing fair weather at 58°F, wind was west at 23 mph, gusts up to 43 mph.

She's 20!

Happy Birthday to the most amazingly awesomely sexy cool girl I know! ;)

Linz- I hope you have a terrific birthday and get tons of awesome presents and everything you ever wanted. Love youuuuu!

I'm eating a really good apple. I mean really good. It's organic and it was really dirty when I bought it, but now it's clean and sweet and juicy and amazing. I'm never buying my apples from the supermarket again.

Tomorrow feels a little better, because in today's paper there was a little birthday box for me featuring a bad picture and a funny message. It's the little things, like birthday fill, amazing apples, a check for $2.98 in the mail and...evil sailing teachers?

For the first year ever i'm not looking foward to my birthday. Not because i'm turning 20, old, and that's a bit scary, but because i'm expecting too much. As a 20-year-old, I feel like I should have a semi-perfect, well-put-together life and be sure about my friends, the guy i'm dating, my career path, my living situation, my classes, and the place I decide to spend the special day, but i'm just not. I'm fighting the urge to forget about everything and run home to my mommy and daddy this weekend and spend a reliable birthday in the bosom of my family. Instead, i'm going on a retreat. I'll be in nature which is perfect, but there's also nowhere to run and nowhere to hide should I find myself unsatisfied. A Saturday birthday has the potential to be amazing...it also has the potential to be much less. Happy 20th?

Alice Munro, you whore!

I didn't realize how long it had been since I posted... until I had a paper to write.

In the past few days, I have dug myself into an academic euphoria; I've steeped myself in Cartesian linguistic theory while discovering the string quartets of Heitor Villa Lobos, sifted through the chalk diagrams and explanations of neuronal activity, and, rolled in cigarette smoke (not my own) while discussing short fiction. I have become overexcited about all of the things I do not know; I cannot wait to read Hauser's The Evolution of Communication, or Anderson's Doctor Dolittle's Delusion, or more papers about the neurophysiology of language acquisition... and yet, I think about writing the essay due tomorrow about Alice Munro's "A Wilderness Station" and I don't know what to do.

I am terrified of writing this essay. I have written close reading essays at least four times in my life that I can remember, and some of those incidences were under timed conditions. I am terrified and psyched out and do not know how to begin. I would rather read now than write, rather drill French grammar, or tag and shelve library books, I would rather do anything than exercise the creative aspect of my language ability.

BLaaslkdhENVXNKCJHfda!

I just went on facebook to confirm a friend, checked all of my emails (at least once), checked the social analysis 34 discussion board, and typed in all of the tracks of the CD I am burning.

NBLADfjskhACI#!

My fish is dying.
All my roommates are asleep.
I have about 1,000 things to do today/this week.
My room needs a good cleaning.
I'm thinking about dropping a class.

It's Monday morning. When the world is dead when you don't know how you're going to make it through the week when you're turning 20 on Saturday...oh, it's Monday.

Studying abroad is not for the unmotivated. I have about 50 pages of materials to read, 20 pages of forms to fill out, and about 25 various pieces of information to gather before I apply for my visa. In person. In LA. On a weekday before noon (a Thursday?). Can I come visit anyone while i'm there?

Exactly 90 days from today I will be on a plane bound for Sevilla.

In slightly more current news, I bought a halloween costume today. It's red and lacy and...it looks as if i'm going to be like all the other sluts in I.V. this year. On the one hand, Juli will be happy because i'm being a girl this year. On the other hand, I think I need to get over to the craft store and buy some black lace in an effort to cover myself up a bit. Ha. Black lace. Cover.

lump of coal

Like a child on Christmas, every morning for the past week I have run outside to collect my newspaper from the door mat. And every morning, save two, it hasn't been there.

Either someone is deliberately depriving me of my daily current events, or I am being continually overlooked. I've called twice, and I just laugh as they credit my account for the papers I haven't recieved. The overall quality of the paper is not worth my aggrevation, so I will laugh each morning til they finally bring it. And I will sit alone with my bowl of cereal wishing I had something gray and black to read.

Earl Grey's Essay-writing Prowess

Last night, I had 20 oz. of Tsa something Chai tea at approximately 8:30 p.m. and was infused with the tense alertness that is caffeination until 1 a.m., when I allowed the buzz to fade into sleep. Now, I realize that the little cup of Earl Grey tea I spilled and then drank at breakfast is seeping through my muscles, but, zut alors, I am also infused with the nervousness that writingtwoessaysbeforenoononefortheadvocatecompandoneformyfirstexpositorywritingessay-ation. I have to focus. I have to fucosc. I ahve ot haifous.

Week 2 and i'm already skipping classes. This needs to stop.

Meet my roommates

Meet my roomates (from left to right): Robbie and Alex (who share the other bedroom), and Yumi (who I share a room with). I haven't spent that much time with Yumi and Robbie casue they are really invovled with this Asian theatre group on campus, but Alex is around a lot and we watch lots of TV together.

It's really strange living in an apartment now. School seems to distant from me now. It's like I have my life here, and classes are just a small interruption in the day. This is not a good thing, because school seems so far away that school work is like this odd dream instead of an obligation.

I leave you all on this note:

Who's going to Spain?

I'm going to Spain. Now it's time to freak out.

What an amazing New Year's gift. (It's Rosh Hashanah)

Angel

Cell phones bring across thousands of miles: a confrontation; a problem to face; a bigger person to be.

I am listening to Jeff Buckley instead.

Presenting Oscar

Product of the Ceramic Department's semester event: CLAY ALL NIGHT! Doors open from 8 pm to 1 am. Unfortunately, Oscar wasn't fired, so in reality he will crumble soon; on Halfwhat, he will live forever.

There have been many moments in the past few months where i've stopped, taken a step back, and wondered, "Is this really happening?" Most of the time it is really happening, and most of the time I determine that it was bound to happen that way. Like a few months ago when I was tipsy-stumbling-home-late and recieved two calls from two people who don't call often. Or when I found myself sipping-a-beer-talking-late with a longtime crush. Of course these things happen.

And then there was this morning, when I was groggy-easing-into-a-street-parking-space and suddenly heard myself scream as a car from nowhere slammed into me. My front bumper has seen better days and I can't for the life of me find those hazy, misplaced memories. Of course...these things happen.

And they cost my whole summer income to fix.

But as they say, at least i'm okay.

Lately it just seems like the world is coming to an end. With the hurricanes, crazy thunderstorms, and fires in California I just don't know what to think. And seriously, what is with this HOT weather. Anyway, I hope LA isn't too smokey although it seems like the fires are a ways north of you guys. And I hope the first week of school is going well for all!

Thundercats!

It is raining too hard for me to want to go to my section.

Tonight, I am going to find out my work schedule at the Eda Kuhn Loeb Music Library, and if I am up to it, find out what I have to do to get on the radio. Wazow, bam, boom!

This is the birthday card I turned in as the first assignment of my Advocate design comp.

The past two days has been uncommonly hot in Santa Barbara...hotter than it was all summer. Perhaps the weather is a metaphor for my life, or perhaps it's punnishing the powers that be for starting classes now, rather than a month from now.

I'll be the first to admit i'm still on summer mode. I haven't been home one night this week and I haven't gone to sleep before 2. I have, however, been to all my classes, and I have written two articles. Think I can hold out?

The answer is no. I'm starting at the top and eliminating everything that takes time away from my studies, my journalism, and my beauty sleep. I'll start with work.

Champs

Padres = NL West Division Champions! They beat the Giants 9-1 tonight. Guess who got tickets to game 4 of the division playoffs before they're up for sale to the public? Damn right!

Playing Catch-up

I went onto out website and saw that there were like 5 new posts. So I thought that I should probably write something too because, you know, I don't want to be left out or anything. So I am living in my new apartment, which according to some of my friends is in the boonies, but I'm just across the street from Eric and Avalon, and they're so much cooler anyways. In case you're wondering, they're doing well and watching LOST dvds all the time. My apartment is crazy huge with a crazy huge balcony, and my new roommates are the nicest and most chill people ever. Our neighbors play music really loudly, like to the point where I can make out the words to the songs that they play. But that's cool because it doesn't really bother me, and it means that we get to be just as loud... party anyone? Basically for the past three days I've been running around trying to get back in touch with everyone I neglected to call over the summer to try and make up for the lack of communication. That's basically about it, but classes start over the next couple of days, so I'll be able to write about my awful (maybe great?) professors soon enough.

NL West

I just wanted you all to know that our San Diego Padres could win the NL West Pennant tonight if they beat the dirty SF Giants! For all of you who don't follow baseball, this is a very good thing and will send us into the playoffs. The Padres just have to win the game tonight or tomorrow or if they don't then they have to beat the Dodgers 2 games out of 3. They have an excellent chance! Playoff baseball here we come! Unfortunately this means the end of baseball season is quickly approaching and I will have to spend my nights some way other than watching baseball. Lord knows football doesn't even compare.

I'm going to the game tomorrow night so I'm secretly hoping the Pads lose tonight so I can see them clench! Of course, I wouldn't really be sad if they won. Anyway, I'll keep you guys updated on our team! Now back to real life and school.

Apparently Monday and Wednesday afternoons breed rambling, balding, slightly drunk professors who teach ephemeral, flighty, slightly uncommon subjects.

Professor Rhetoric stumbled into the room, dazedly saying, "It was summer like five minutes ago. Now i'm a teacher." He proceeded to tell us he doesn't know what rhetoric is. And finally he commended the Fourth Biggest Party School status UCSB has earned, promising we'd celebrate by getting drunk the last week of class...

Professor John Milton requires a final 6-12 page paper of "lucid prose" and assigned "too much reading to read" for the first week of class. He doesn't tolerate interpretive welfare and when asked a question about what the weekly commentaries he assigned entail, he said, "I don't know."

Off to class?

Jelly Bellies are fun!

So last night I got one hour of sleep and took a 6 hour nap today.
I'm thinking about not allowing annonymous comments anymore. I'd hate to cut off people who don't have blogger, but it's annoying to get annonymous comments! (even if most of us know who you are)

Today is David and Annie's 21st birthday. So happy birthday to you two!!! They're sooooo old. 21 is so exciting.

I really don't have anything to say. I told someone I'd call them tonight and then I didn't. I'm sorry for that. Today has been a little nuts. I still have some homework to do. My life is out of control lately.

What?

I just e-mailed Howard Zinn.

Cigarettes and Alcohol

Last night, I went to the comp meeting for Harvard's oldest publication, The Advocate, a literary magazine formerly edited and contributed to by the likes of Teddy Roosevelt, e.e. cummings, T.S. Eliot, and Norman Mailer, among many others.

The meeting was held in the upstairs room of 21 South Street, hardwood floor and dark wood moldings and bookshelves all the way around. Two long, wooden tables set up like the head tables at a ritual initiation: two martini glasses offered cigarettes, fat white candles burned down into themselves like shy people, mismatching wine glasses gathered in crowds around six bottles of red wine. Freshmen in Harvard gear kept uncomfortably to themselves and sophomores and underclassmen mingled with the board members that they knew, kids that were dressed in the same colors and tones, sulky, slouchy, cleanly shaved but growing out, black-framed glasses, tattooed backs, polo shirts and black tank tops, upstanding, dramatic, buzzed, reminiscent of all those people you know.

At Harvard, many publications and clubs involve a "comp," which, as I understand it, is short for "competition." It is part initiation, part training, part audition: every institution decides for itself how much of each part their own comp is. The six boards of the Advocate have comps of varying intensity: presentations, essays, submission and revenue solicitation, assignments. Some boards have two rounds of cuts.

I'm scared shitless. I need a glass of wine.

So we're using titles now?

I suddenly got really scared to go back to school. I had this nightmare a couple nights ago that most of the friends that I had made last year really hate me now. I'm not on the best terms with someone right now, and she's dating this guy who would obviously be on her side, and would convince all of his friends to do that same, and... man, I seriously thought I graduated from high school. Kind of funny how a lot of these people consider themselves really "liberal" and get angry when they hear of religious conservatives supporting something just because it's their party that came up with it. Irony's a great thing. But really, I should probably wait before I jump to conclusions...

...*jump*

Whoops, too late. I should be more careful.
In light of my new frustrations, I've put Blood Brothers back on my itunes, and I can't stop listening to their latest CD, Crimes. Let the crazed dancing around my room begin.

I went into Borders today for the first time since I started working at Barnes&Noble. Granted, I snuck in to use the bathroom, but that didn't stop me from looking around a bit. It's a nice store, i'll give it that, and the amendities of working there include proximity to campus, lax to no dress code, books and music, better parking, higher pay (I hear)... the list goes on. However, I do feel that their prices are slightly ridiculous, and their system of book organization is highly confusing and disorderly in comparison to B&N. I like the more sophisticated feel at B&N with the classical music, business casual, and intelligent, knowledgeable staff members (that's me). So in conclusion, I agree with what the someone that once told me B&N is for old people who are smart and love books while Borders is for the more hip generation of folks who dabble in books and music and make a lot of money at their cushy jeans and a t shirt-type jobs.

I'd consider working at Borders because i'm hip and down with convenience, but i'd buy a nice book over a CD any day, and if I have no choice but to go to a corporate book store when i'm old, i'll choose B&N.

Fall = Summer + 10

Classes don't start 'til tomorrow and already i'm filling in the hourly schedule in my day planner to make sure I can fit everything in. Fall is summer but worse. Add two more classes, another newspaper, more friends, Hillel, and various other commitments/activities and you get... me. Or what's left.

Presenting Dr. David H. Hubel

"The Faculty of Harvard University deserves my thanks for tolerating such a truculent colleague." -DHH

Rock on.

I got into the freshman seminar. I'm doing the happy dance.

Classes after 12 every day? Yes, please. Rock.

Perfect Weather

San Diego is having the most amazing weather ever right now. I'm listening to Something Corporate - The Formal Weather Pattern because it seemed appropriate. Piano solo! It's lightning and thundering like crazy. I love it, and I have so much homework to do, but I can't because the weather is AMAZING! Then it starts pouring for about 2 minutes and stops. I keep waiting for the power to go out because this is intense. I LOVE IT!!!!

It's funny, really. I'm so stubborn. I make up my mind that I don't like something and I convince myself that I really don't like it. Yet, when others form an opinion without giving something a chance I think they're so close-minded. After talking to Lindsey last night, I can easily see all my "flaws" and I know I shouldn't feel certain ways about stuff, but I think feeling those ways comes with being a girl. I can't change it!

*listening to Ashlee Simpson right now* (guilty pleasure)

I spent a perfect Saturday evening slightly buzzed at a random pool hall that used to be a movie theater in Pismo Beach.

Okay Juli, these are for you because you asked.

Haircuts%20of%20the%20Past%20and%20Present%20003.jpg
Haircuts%20of%20the%20Past%20and%20Present%20002.jpg

They're not very good, but I always feel awkward about taking pics of myself, like I feel really dorky doing it. So I just took two and this is what turned up.

Oh, and I get to see Thrice for free! UCLA has its benefits.

Like a pheonix ignition...

Ah... it's like going back in time...

Today I met Pavlo.

Now that I think about it, he could have been "Pavlov," which is a more familiar name, but I distinctly remember hearing "Pavlo." Pablo, with a V.

Pavlo and I went on a bookstores tour of Boston, which really meant a rare book shop near Dunkin' Donuts (I touched a book written by Galileo that was printed in... a very long time ago), the three-story Brattle Book Store which boasts a million books, and the book store of our tour guide Bob Marshall, an ex-Air Force pilot, current police inspector book collector who looked like a mole with his buzzed hair and wide, friendly nose of Ukrainian descent (his great-grandfather came from the Ukraine during the 1890s, and because he grandfather was to be a lawyer, they named him John Marshall, thus shaking off the 6 mile long name of his ancestors). Bob knew all of the policemen and city workers on the street; he stood up to the aggressive panhandlers, and he used lines like "Did you hurt yourself? You know, when you fell from heaven" on the girls who left the tour early. His heavy Boston accent prevented him from pronouncing words like "partnering" correctly, and he was about 5' 3". Altogether, an adorable man and a pleasant time.

Pavlo was born four days after Chernobyl, but the wind blew East, instead of West, (or West instead of East,) so he was spared. In the Ukrainian education system, students take 16-18 courses in a term, so it was a shock to go to an American style school in Switzerland in 10th grade, where he only took 6 or 7 courses, and more of a shock now to take only four. Pavlo wants to concentrate in Mechanical Engineering, and perhaps study abroad in Germany. He has pretty bad acne, glasses, and a sloping nose that seems to make sense when he tells you he likes to alpine ski. Blonde, tall, wears a belt high on his waist where it's meant to be--that's Pavlo, who told me, "Human beings are quite brittle."

A weekend at a beach house in Pismo with the newspaper staff.

I'll tell you about it on Sunday if i'm not indisposed.

Thank you, LeeAnn, for gracing us with your lovely, poetic tales of your new life in Boston. What's it like to be you?

Keep writing!

(do you have a new email address?)

It Came Down with the Rain

Today, I was sitting in a tea shop facing a dripping, thundering Massachusetts Avenue, the shower head of Boston was turning on and off and on again over people dripping with the sweat that comes with the humidity that lingers from 90 degree days, and I was drinking eight-treasure tea, and waiting for my Curious Monkey Wrap, and I had just finished my interview with Professor Hubel, who likes Bach, plays piano, is from Montreal, who doesn't think Boston's winter is cold, and spent a summer at the Salk Institute writing papers while wondering why he wasn't out on the beach instead, an interview to which I ran full speed down Quincy, through the Yard and up Prescott in five minutes from the Discussion with Faculty where the kids on my floor were discussing the idea of identity and change, to meet Hubel as he just began to open his door and welcome me in, an interview which supplemented my application for Professor Hubel's seminar on the Neurophysiology of Visual Perception, and I was staring out the window, The Wanderer in one hand and eight treasures in the other and such a daft smile on my face.

This is the best morning I've had in a long time.

So this might come off as completely pointless, but I have bangs now. I haven't had bangs since I grew them out along with my permed hair in 7th grade. I like them, it was time for a change. But my parents didn't even notice... maybe it wasn't that big of a change?

On a completely different note, I was talking to a friend of mine about guilty pleasures. It's led me to wanting to know everyone's guilty pleasures... so if you want to tell me yours, I might reveal mine to you. It'll be fun; it's kind of a cathartic experience. However, I feel it necessary to point out that I'm talking about music, I don't really want to know if whips and chains turn you on.

Haha, until I point out that I'm talking about music, that last paragraph sounds kind of dirty.

The editor of the newspaper where I intern took one look at me today and said, "You suddenly look grown up." I replied, "Well, i'm turning twenty in a couple months, that's pretty grown up." I shot a look at the managing editor, who's in her middle twenties, that said "I know i'm not grown up at all" and the office laughed.

This is a weird age, this middle-of-college, not a teenager, not married, not a full-fledged member of the workforce or the country age. I can vote but I can't drink or gamble, I pay bills but my parents still support me. I'm okay with that; and I can always pretend i'm more important than that list of nots.

While procrastinating my insanely insane amounts of work, I turned on the word verification thing for our posts so hopefully that will help. Sorry I've been slacking lately. School is just really intense this semester. I can barely keep up with all my work and sleep and a night of socializing per weekend along with posting on here! Excuses, excuses... but seriously, I don't know if I'm gonna make it through. I'm trying my bestest and seriously questioning my career as an accountant.

I have a sneaking suspicion that I have outgrown my fear of talking to people. People can be scary, and I still choke up every once and awhile, but I don't really dread it anymore. People are just people. I think four years and a summer of intense journalism has turned me into somewhat of a friendly person. Friendly? We'll see if that carries over bilingually. ¿Puedo ser elocuente en español también?

My goal for this post is to not complain about anything. Mind you, this is very hard, because I like to be sarcastic and it's very hard to not be whiny at the same time. Let's see how I do.

I think I'd like to be famous for a year, just to see what that kind of a life it's like. Go to a couple of Diddy's parties, maybe date an actor or a rock star to get that out of my system. Then I would stop and go back into obscurity and normal life before I become addicted to diets and plastic surgery. I don't know how I would achieve this though. I seriously doubt that there's a market out there for a science nerd who happens to listen to a lot of music and watch a lot of trashy TV. Who would watch "My So-Called Theory of Special Relativity?" Or listen to an album titled "Songs from a Particle Acclerator?" No one; therefore, the most attainable method is to find a genie's lamp and make that one of my wishes, the second wish being to have my life go back to normal (just in case you wanted to know, the third wish would be for more wishes... because I'm a cheat like that). Now that I have a plan, all I have to is wait.

Welcome to...

Is there a book called Dorm Life Sucks? As of the past... day, I wouldn't be able to write such a book, but maybe I should wait it out a bit before premature euphoria over the layout of my dorm. Common room, a spacious double, a spacious single, a good-sized single, and a painfully, inhumanely small double. Guess which I'm in?



(Back against the wall, closets to the right, bottom bunk mine!)

The two single rooms are going to the resident basketball star (6' 6" from Pennsylvania and fun) and the resident volleyball star (5' 11" from Kansas City and beautiful in the Courtney Hall sort of way). The good news is that next semester we agreed that the two squished in the double will trade for the singles.

Nothing more for now but that the shower spills to the bathroom floor and I take an ID picture that's going to haunt me for the rest of my life.

While I was making Barnes and Noble look beautiful after closing tonight, I came across an unfamiliar book that caught my eye: Dating Sucks. I have long found this statement to be true, and was excited to find some interesting advice/opinions on the subject. Feeling pretty good, I made my way from Self Help to Pregrancy and Childbirth and came across another book: Pregnancy Sucks.

Does it get any better? Or does life just suck?

A girl messaged me on facebook the other day. A freshman who is going to be living in the same room as I did last year. She sounded really enthusiastic about getting to UCLA ASAP, the message contained a lot of exclamation marks and her greeting and closing contained multiple syllables. "Hiiiiiiiiiieeeee Jen!!! I'm living in your old room next year!!! I can't wait to start up at school!! I hope to see you on campus!!! Byeeeeeeee!!!!!!" She proceeded to request me as a friend on facebook. It made me remember how restless I felt right before I left for school; I couldn't wait to shed myself from these people I called my friends and meet the people I was really meant to be friends with. Now don't think me heartless, I know most of my friends were thinking the exact same thing. And yet here I am, still in touch with most of my close friends from high school, still holding them closest to my heart, perhaps even closer than before. I thought that in going to college I was going to magically become a newer, better person with a completely new life, just like this girl seems to be thinking. I've realized that college is not this magical light at the end of the high school tunnel, but another stage of development; a stage which, like eveything else that involves change, is gradual. Also, perhaps more importantly, I've learned to make new friends, but keep the old still, cause it's the ones that stick around that are the most valuable.

Anyways, do I add this girl or not? It's like this choice between feeling weird and feeling mean.

P.S. Are we getting spam comments? Or are these actually real people?

The warm fuzzy feeling that I get from staying home alone on a Saturday night in order to rest and take care of business only lasts so long...it's 10:30, there's a rager going on outside, and I have run out of business to take care of.

In light of my crazy week, however, I think it's necessary to take this time for myself and feel like a loser.

One of the prosecutor's closing arguements was the quote, "That's really gonna hurt tomorrow." And when he wrote it on the board to impress its impact on the jury he had really bad handwriting, spelled tomorrow wrong, and only put one "n" in "gonna."

I'm going to regret this tomorrow. TAKE THAT, Mr. Lawyer.

(staying up late, that is)

I served on a jury this week. One of twelve in that little box you see in the movies, laughing and listening and dozing according to the lawyers' plans. I learned two things from the experience (if not a few more): 1) The American justice system is a completely unique and amazing concept. 2) I never want to go to court.

Well it's back to life tomorrow. No more 8:30 to 4:30 days with an hour and a half lunch for me. It's to the mini golf course tomorrow at nine, and who knows from there?

At the risk of sounding like a pop culture junkie, I caught part of the MTV awards show yesterday. The part where Dane Cook performed. And no one laughed. Really, there was complete silence. Maybe the jokes about shooting babies and guys who wear Superman shirts were in bad taste for that event, but I was laughing and knee slapping the whole time. I knew there was something wrong with those gosh darn celebrities! They have no sense of humor! But Dane took it all in stride and smiled the whole way because he knows he is a damn good looking guy, he's funny, and he's getting head no matter what. So this post (get it? post rhymes with toast? AHAHAHAHA!) is to you Dane.

Change?

Change? I'm emotionally frail, gingerly materialistic, and totally digging mary jane and loafer pumps, and dustbusters, and appreciating people, who after all these years, are still finding things to say to me. So go Marc Jacobs, Yves Saint Laurent, Black & Decker, and viewers like you.

And my k12 life is slowly dusting its way into bags and boxes and bags.

Now that Lindsey has brought the whole idea of change, it has caused me to think about how I've changed since school. Well no, that's a lie, I've actually been thinking about it a lot lately. I guess that's what I get for not being able to fall asleep until 5 am cause it's so damn hot. Plus, I'm at home on a Saturday night writing this piece that no one will ever read because they're too damn lazy to read anything longer than 5 lines, you figure out how busy I am. I know every year that I've been at college I've gone through some sort of identity crisis (you know, the standard emo "what the fuck is wrong with me?" thinking) and that I have had to deal with a lot of dumbasses... the worst kind of dumbasses too, like the ones who don't realize that they are dumbasses and mistake their stupidity for coolness. No, I don't enjoy spending my entire dinners listening to guys try to one up each other with their stories of the craziest thing they ever did with a knife with one ear and girls giggling about inside jokes and trash talk that isn't even that funny with the other (BIG shocker!). However, I have noticed throughout these past couple of years, that I have found people that I can count on no matter what, and I know that not a lot of people can say that. Also, in my great introverted reflection on the recent past I've remembered the kind of person I want to be... now I just have to make sure that I have a strong enough hold on that idea that I won't go through another period where I want to be like every other mall-loving-giggling-about-stupid-things-pretending-to-not-give-into-chauvanism-but-will-really-be-any-guy's-bitch-for-a-kiss-Family-Guy-loving person out there (*disclaimer: I actually really do like Family Guy, it's a really funny show, but for goodness sake people, don't make it your god).

Wow, talk about it being blunt 'n sassy day. And yes, it does feel good to whine. TAKE THAT BIOTCH!!!

Lately i've been liking things that I never thought I would like. I bought a pair of high heels, I wear nail polish, I wear skirts almost every day, beer and wine are growing on me, sushi with any kind of fish is good, it's fun to go crazy every once in awhile... Maybe it's good to be adventurous; I feel like i'm changing for the better. Yet even so, I look up at the personal crest I made senior year and most of the fundamental traits are still the same. What does that say? Good things, I guess.

I always felt lame on job apps or resumes when you're supposed to put your computer skills because I really don't have any extraordinary ones. Word? Everyone knows word. Powerpoint? We learned that in ninth grade. Well now friends, perhaps it's not extraordinary, but now I can put Excel. Today is data entry day in the exciting world of entry-level journalism and I am the star. At least i'm getting paid. That's right, three whole dollars more than I get for selling books and membership cards to the snobs and tourists of Santa Barbara.

Today is also blunt 'n sassy day.

I swear that I just took my SATs, and now I have to study for another standardized test?! The MCAT is like the same thing, except longer (8 hrs total, including a 1 hr lunch break), with essays, and I want it to die even more. I've been working on it all summer, and I'm not getting any better. Grr... back to the books...

I really like home.

When I was in high school I used to make excuses so I could stay in the house and laze around (that's my nerdy secret). My first two years of college I wished for those lazy days and nights, but there's just something about the dorms that's unwelcoming so I went out as much as possible. The first part of this summer was so busy I had no time to laze around my apartment, but that made me long for it even more. Now I have my free time, and it's glorious. If you need me, I'm at home.

What the "H" Cookie?!

This post entitled: Look What Harvard University Dining Services Sent Me (also known as: What the "H" Cookie Damn Fool Kind of School am I Getting Myself Into?)




I hope it's tasty. E-mail me your mailing address if you'd like some.

Countdown to ...

Places, places, places-- my summer's been defined by the roadmap of San Diego; if I was in a movie montage of me reminiscing about the Summer of 05, I'd be pushing colorful pins into Vista, San Marcos, Leucadia, Solana Beach, Encinitas, Clairemont, Hillcrest, and Downtown San Diego. I was no globetrotter, but I'd say that the cumulative number of hours spent sitting in traffic on the 5, 78, and 15 would add up to a trip to Europe. If only I could get frequent flier miles for filling up on gas.

I'm more than half-packed for Boston and I've got 16 slow, precious, molasses days left to endure in San Diego. With a little bit of luck, they will pass quicker than I can say "I miss burritos, the beach, and Manhattan Giant Pizza."

I'm barely a day back from a week vacation on a cruise trip, and already reality is harsher than I remember. It's sweeted by such things as promotions - i'm no longer just an intern and i'm getting paid — but unfortunately achievements and visions of success can't fill all voids and heal all wounds. Welcome home.

I think this works now.

I had a great weekend in Santa Barbara last weekend, Jenna came down during the week, and then this weekend I went up to Glendora (in LA) with Kel and Sam and went to Kel's cousin's bday party. It was so much fun and I was so full even when I went to bed. I got to meet all of Kel's high school friends, which was really cool. So I really can't complain about things going badly lately. Unfortunately, my 17 year old cat, Tina has been sick. My mom told me that she passed away last night. Even while many of you may be thinking "oh big deal, one of Juli's cats died," it is a big deal. I've had Tina forever and she was the most awesome cat ever. I'm really upset about it, but luckily things are going really well for me lately. So if you see me moping, you'll know why.

what is it with me attracting older (like WAY older) guys? this middle aged guy just emailed me asking me out to coffee...

...*sigh*...

Hooray for Lindsey and her fixing powers!

I'd post something interesting, but there's nothing to say...

I moved into my new apartment? That's sorta interesting.
And I went to Disneyland on Friday! Aaaaaand... I'm going to Santa Barbara next weekend.
Alright, that's definitely it.

I'm good at making myself cry.

I already told this story to people I know, but it's such a funny/creepy story that I have to record it. Alright, so I got hit on by an old man... like using a walker and wearing a straw hat old. Here's what happened:

Set-up: I went to Buffalo Exchange in Hillcrest to get new sunglasses and that place and Claire's at UTC are the only places that didn't carry only HUGE bug eye sunglasses (What's up with this trend, by the way? I have a small head! This doesn't work for me!) I was walking back to my car and waiting to cross the street. this old man walks up and I thought he was going to pass by, so I make way for him to be polite. Instead, he stops and begins to talk to me.

Him: You hungry?

At this point, I thought he thought I was homeless or something, and I didn't want him to give me money or food or something like that, so...

Me: Not really.
Him: You wanna go eat somewhere with me?
Me (getting weirded out at this point): Uh, no thanks, I actually have to be somewhere right now.
Him: I think you're really lovely. Those dimples just do it for me.
Me: (Awkwardly laughs and says nothing)
Him: So how old are you?
Me: Um... 19... (I was seriously considering lying and saying 16 so he'd think I was too young legally and leave me alone)
Him: Perfect!

The little white man flashed on the crosswalk light letting me cross, and I crossed the street.

Anyways, I've decided that I attract only REALLY weird guys and REALLY weird old men. Really now, what's up with this world?

But then again, if I eat peaches, maybe everything'll be peachy. And spiked watermelon? Then i'll be drunk. I don't have to resign myself to cynicism! Hell yes. But I still like oranges.

I think I should start eating oranges again.

My high school cynicism gradually vanished in my first year of college when I realized that I had friends and boys could like me, so I stopped eating oranges, the fruit of my former cynicism. I instead became a hardcore apple eater for a couple years, until just recently when i've relied more on grapes. Somewhere between the time I stopped eating apples and today, I realized that my high school cynicism has returned. I listened to "Wish I May" in honor of the occasion, and ate my first orange just now. Sweet, frangrant, and orange, but neverthelss bitter.

orange you glad?

i want to know what you think about death. what's your concept of it? do you even think about it ever? i'm serious, comment on this please.

Three hankerchicks... things are starting to seem like the old days to me. Dunno why. I sent the fourth a message on facebook. Maybe we can all meet for a reunion sometime. It seems like it's about time. Pixie Sticks anyone???

Me and my friend Marijana have a plan. We are going to have our own show on the Food Network in which we travel a round the world on a student's budget and show them the great deals on meals that exist. This way, we get paid to travel AND eat...

Oh yeah, and I decided that I'm going to type proper for now... we'll see how I feel about it next time I post.

I don't recognize my life. Do you know that feeling? Today I lived half in my car, half alone in my friend's grungy apartment, and half in my other friend's house that i've never been in before. I started an internship, spending four hours of my day in a small room downtown staring at a computer. Tomorrow i'm going to come home late from work to an apartment I will call home...i'll have some bare furniture there and that's about it. No computer. Well anyway.

haha, that last post has so many typos, even for me. i apologize for that, it's amazing what kind of a trance-like state i (and i assume everyone else) gets in when finals come around. and when i snap out of it, it's really hard to get back in it for that one last final. i was trying REALLY hard, but me and the two friends i was studying with (i was watching too much of the food network when i tried to study on my own) were so burnt out that instead we ended up pondering quite random things such as:

why is it that in those kool-aid commercials, they count blue as a flavor?

why do some farts smell and why do others not (i totally owned this one, by the way)

if you orgasm by accident lying on a vibrating chair while getting a massage, does that count as masturbation?

what if it was on purpose?

what if it was a vibrating man?

i really don't know waht i've done wiht my life for the past three days. really, i think i've been studying straight from like 11 am to 2am with 15 minute aim ortv breaks and meal breaks. having two finals in one day is not a good thing... i thought i vowed to never do it again after the last time this happened... oh well...

time to review past midterms! (i'm trying to fake enthusiasm to motivate myself to do it).

P.S. all the rest of you suck for being done with school

I've moved into the 21st century and joined the herds of others who have mp3 players. It's not an iPod, it's a Creative Zen Touch and it's pretty much the coolest thing ever. Instead of going out this week, i'm going to be stuck to my computer uploading all my favorite albums. Yes.

I want to plan a beach day... for Tuesday because it's supposed to be nice then. I really wish Lindsey was staying in San Diego longer! But anyhow, I saw we round up everyone who's in San Diego and beach it up. Maybe in La Jolla! We can bring a picnic basket full of food and eat and read and go swimming and get tan, or at least try. So let me know what you think and who should be invited and such. YES, BEACH! (ooo, maybe we should bring sandwiches from Board and Brew)

You people need to come home. I am BORED.

You know it's time to be done with school already when you think it's hilarious that the squiggly green line in Microsoft Word says "Too many nouns (no suggestions)." Tell me that isn't hilarious. How could I possibly say "hostile work environment sexual harassment" in any other way? And anyway, isn't at least one of those "nouns" an adjective? I'm no grammar nerd (oh wait I am, hence my "senior copy reader" title in the Nexus staff box), but i'm pretty sure those aren't all nouns. This essay is taking a damn long time to finish. BE DONE. BE DONE.

I haven't posted in awhile. Remind me that I don't have to stress as much about finals as I always think I should: they'll be over soon. I've been using a lot of colons lately. This summer shall be interesting...

wow, my third post in a row... i must really not want to study. i went to see tilly and the wall and of montreal last night, and it was like when we went to that first ataris concert, without the sweat and moshing. like it was energetic, and fun, and uplifting, and put me in a really good mood. i stopped by a friend's party afterwards, and one of my friends thought i was drunk... and i wasn't! the concert was that good! one of the better shows i've been to in a LONG while.

juli, lindsey... out dear andrew's got cancer (acute lymphatic peukemia to be exact).

haha, so i realized i haven't posted in a while, so here we go, sorry if it's not all too interesting.

i've kinda been amazed at how small a world it is. it seems as if anyone new i meet seems to somehow be related to someone i already know. a guy that lived on my floor last year is now my friend's radio co-host and is roommate's with this guy i hooked up with last year. a couple of debbie's friends work at the same lab that i work in over the summer. my new apartmentmates are friends with people i've known in the past and are just beginning to get in better touch with. all within the past several weeks.

oh, note for juli: i dunno if you've heard andrew from something corporate's new project, jack's mannequin, i have a few songs on my comp if you want a listen... it sounds like soco but with a more personal vibe. also, i guess he's now in the hospital :(. i told lindsey about this last night on aim, so she might've told you already.

My poor roommate :(. She comes home today and says "I have mono and my grandma died." Poor girl. So instead of moving out Saturday as she planned, she has to fly to Illinois and have her boyfriend and his dad do it for her because she already hired the truck. Meanwhile, I'm continuing my extremely slow move-out process. My room is really beginning to look depressing. I finally finished The Fountainhead last week and I plan on finishing Travels with Charley tonight. Then on to "I am Charlotte Simmons." Exciting, huh?

Driving south on the 101, blasting Ataris Blue Skies and Broken Hearts..., I didn't even realize that I was passing the famous blue skies sign until it was right there off to my left. The sky was blue, the flowers were blooming, the sun was shining in a very summerish sort of way. How perfect is it that I went to college here?

(This is for my girlfriend)

Ahhhhh, summer vacation! Today was day four of summer for me. So far I have laid out, gone swimming, gone shopping with my mom, got my nails done with my mom, washed and waxed my car, and played with the most adorable little 9 kittens. Tomorrow: beach with Raquel.

On a sad note: Jenna has moved out and is in Sac for most of the rest of the summer. She's coming back mid- July so we can go shopping with our moms for new apartment stuff though! I think I'm gonna get to reading The Fountainhead cuz I'm almost finished! I should be done by the end of this week!

Did I mention that I still love you?

If you have been removed, you can be reinstated by emailing me. Thank you for not posting. And then there were three...

Three out of my last four spanish classes have been held outside. We mosey into the Arbor in a big group and congregate in a circle, taking off our shoes and getting comfortable on the grass. The weather is lovely, especially between 1 and 1:50, and my teacher conducts class in a most informal manner. Today we finished the day's presentations, and having 20 mins left in class, we played a moderately clean version of 10 Fingers in broken spanish. The Arbor is swiftly becoming my favorite spot on campus, and this is by far my favorite quarter of spanish.

I'm in the mood to ruthlessly slash anyone who doesn't contribute to half what. I have a feeling that you won't care anyway. Since i'm nice, i'll give you a short grace period to post. If you don't, i'll cut you. You know who you are.

I was biking home from work as the sun was peeking up over the horizon. The air was cool and dry, I was sleepy and, well, HEADLESS. I thought I was safe, being that it was 5 a.m. But apparently assassins are up all night and I was shot in the head as I was walking out of the office. Always carry a gun. Maybe i'll become republican.

Blogger sucks

Why isn't blogger publishing? So freaking annoying. I want to brag about how it's almost summer!!! I only have three days left, then I'm free! Ha, take that UC kids!

okay kids, remember those geometry proofs form high school? i'm bringing them back!

statement: i am dork.

reason: i just found my best friend from second grade and sent her a facebook message, and she sent me one back and friended me, and i'm way excited.

statement: i am screwing myself over.

reason: it's almost midnight, and i've done absolutely no work, and i don't really want to.

therefore, i am a dork who screws herself.

...mrs. carillo would be proud.

Last night Pink Floyd sounded a lot like Scissor Sisters.

I wanted a summer internship at a certain local newspaper. So I called in January, and the human resources director told me to send my resume in April. I called in March, to see what date in April, but she never picked up the phone or got back to me through email. I sent my resume in April. I called last week, and she said the resumes were due in March. I gave her my name and number in the expectation that she'd find my resume and consider it anyway. I called just now and she said that applications for this summer were due last year. I am convinced that the human resources director has multiple personalities.

The other night I was sitting at my computer with a non-functioning internet trying to figure out which Dave Matthews song I had stuck in my head and where I had heard it.

I just figured it out. I was sitting here trying not to think about anything, listening to the fading chords of Ani Difranco's "You Had Time," when I started singing that Dave Matthews song again. It happens to be "If I Had It All," and it happens to follow "You Had Time" on a certain mixed cd. Consequently, all my thoughts came rushing back.

Sometimes I feel lost
As I pull you out like strings of memories

Word of wisdom for the day:
"Humans are naturally resistant to change, but when change happens, they're remarkably able to adapt."

Interesting hypothesis of life from the most unlikely of places. Today was an intellectually stimulating day, actually. Last night I found myself having a discussion about evolution, among other things, at a Cinco de Mayo party. This morning I talked about memory with my English professor. I then went to the library and learned about Freud. I spent the later afternoon at a meeting for the newspaper with a big wig at the university learning about how campus planning, etc, etc works. I want to learn more! I want to change the world! But i'm dirty and I have to shower and dress so I can go out soon.

Who has never heard of Ray Bradbury (who's speaking here in 2 weeks)?

My roommate.

I started to tell her that she is culturally illiterate, but I decided that would probably be insensitive of me. WHO hasn't heard of Ray Bradbury? The same people who deny the holocaust happened and scoff at Shakespeare. And it's these very people that i'm catering to when I write my news stories at a fifth grade reading level, because these people don't know how to read either. I've been writing these stories for years, but I never thought the ignorant public really existed.

I'm not saying that my roommate doesn't know how to read, denies the holocaust, and scoffs at Shakespeare...but HOW is it possible that she has NEVER heard of The Martian Chronicles or Fahrenheit 451?

i didn't let my roommate and her boyfriend have the room for and hour today, because i wanted to study for my midterms, which aren't for a few days. this is after the fact that they kicked me out with no notice when i had and hour to study before i was to celebrate my friend's birthday, and i made a resolution to not let people step all over me and to become more assertive. but when i said no today, he kept pushing it, asking me why, and tell me that it was for their anniversary (anniversary of what is still to be determined), and that i was his last resort, and he just didn't understand that i just couldn't let them have the room for fear of being having it escalate to me getting stepped all over again, like i have been for my whole life. i guess i should have picked my battles more carefully, but i didn't, and now i feel like shit, like i was a bitch for not letting have what they wanted, like i'm not flexible enough. i started bawling after i hung up the phone.

when did i get to overly emotional and sensitive and insecure? i mean, people are starting to complaing. but... i just don't like myself anymore and think that there's something wrong with me and i'll never find anyone that i can ever trust and that no one will ever love me because i won't let them because people are fucks and fuck me over all the time.

*sigh*... i can't even go to sleep because i have to finish studying for midterms.

i'm tired and staring at the computer so everything's blurred. I don't think I can catch copy errors like this.

I find myself daydreaming a lot again. What is so appealing about making up hypothetical situations with peopel you haven't met yet? I read an article about advertising that blames all of this unsatisfaction with reality on our capatalist society (we daydream about better lives, and then acquire as an attempt to make it a reality)... then again it was written in the 70s. I don't know, it kind of worries me, all this pretending, like I don't think it's really that healthy. Then again, if I didn't daydream, what else would I think about?

Alright enough of this ranting and raving. I'm doing well. And yourself? I hope you're doing well also. And if not, I'm sure things will work out for the best. They usually do.

Oh yeah, and I have no summer vacation... summer school staged a coup and took over. But, like I said, things are going to work out for the best. (Secretly, in my head, I'm almost glad to be kept busy).

San Diego is really quite a nice city. I don't think I appreciated it enough when I lived here full time. My family and I went downtown today to Little Italy to the annual Artwalk. There were tons of people, tons of art, and tons of culture. It made the city seem so alive and exciting - i've always had kind of a boring impression of downtown SD. But it can be happenin. (And if was 21 or over...it'd probably be even more happenin. And hey, my parents let me drink wine at our seder tonight. I'm moving up in the world.) I was always under the impression that one had to go east to discover any real cities or culture, or at least up to San Fran. I'm not saying that San Diego's a real city, on par with Boston or any place like that, but it's pretty nice in its own ways. Maybe I should enjoy California first, before I think of getting out and experiencing another place. My parents always say this is the best it's going to get, and I don't believe them because I haven't seen everywhere else for myself. But maybe they're right.

Tonight I spent an hour or so with an old friend. This weekend I shall spend hours on end with another old friend at UC Davis. That's right, I'm driving all the way up there on Friday. Well, Thursday night shall be spent at UCLA to make the drive a little shorter. I will also have the wonderful company of my neighbor and future roommate , Mr. Webb. I'm excited for making girly drinks and remembering good times in high school. I'm not excited for the predicted rain. I'm also not excited for my accounting quiz tomorrow which brings me to my next point, I gotta go study!

It's about that time...

That time when I start cursing the many activities that keep me out til all hours of the night, the business that limits my sitting around doing nothing time to, well, never, the constant running around that makes me forget myself. It's good I guess. I just want a little time right now to rest.

It's funny how I can go about my life for a year on a campus of 20,000 and never see certain people. Then, suddenly, a weird twist of fate crosses our paths and we have all-too-frequent chance encounters in the span of only a few weeks. This has happened this quarter with more than one person, some faces more pleasant to see than others. I wonder if this is telling me something about these people. Or maybe it is just a weird twist of fate.

Haha, oh Lindsey... you are also awesome. It's good to catch up. I have decided that next time any sort of group is in San Diego, we're going ice skating. I don't care how long it's been since I've talked to you, but we're going ICE skating dammit! (Lindsey must also be in town though since she sort of inspired it... then again so did Jen- whether she knows it or not!)

Juliann, you're awesome.

The rest of you are awesome too, but I am particularly struck by Juli's awesomeness at this moment.

Dear half What

I'm in a terrible mood. I didn't wake up in it, not like Alexander in that children's book, who woke up in a terrible mood, but I am in a terrible, inconsiderate mood, and I wouldn't mind chewing up someone's head right now but for the taste it might leave in my mouth.

I thought of so many beautiful things I could've posted this weekend but I was too busy experiencing them to bother posting. The weather was nice, the company was good, and the stress level was down to a beginning-of-the-quarter minimum. It tastes like summer.

School starts tomorrow, today was my last day of Spring Break. I spent it shopping and doing various other odds and ends with my mom. Driving back home (SDSU home) tonight it was drizzling. The gods were trying to bring me back to reality and it's gonna suck. Maybe they were crying for me. Luckily I only have one class tomorrow. On the upside, I bought a cute new bookbag to take to class! And now I'm going to sleep. Luckily the time just changed otherwise I'd be going to bed before midnight, and that's just crazy!

"You squeezed my hand softly and said I shouldn't be afraid."
Andrew Bird, "Masterfade"

I had the best spring break! I went down to San Felipe for two nights with 6 great friends and camped on the beach and danced and drank pina coladas and collected sand dollars. It was SO much fun. I guess any trip starting off with a muffin pass from one car to the other can't be bad though! I don't even know where to begin talking about the trip, so I'm not. I'm just going to say that all seven of us decided we're going back next year. Spring Break 06!

Notice that I called Santa Barbara home? Today I traveled from home, to home. I think the difference is that San Diego is more of a "this place is nice to go to because I have a lot of memories and my friends and family live here" home. Santa Barbara is where my life currently happens, so I guess that means it's home too.

I took a short detour off the freeway on my way home today so I could see the Ataris' Blue Skies sign up close. It was standing at the entrance to a trailer park, much to my surprise, and I have to admit that it looks much prettier at night with its bright blue neon lights. I just stuck my Ataris pillow, courtesy of Debbie, in my backseat because I felt like it belonged there with my Hankerchicks pillow. Anyway, it's not like I use my backseat. I think the Blue Skies sign on the pillow was smiling at the real life sign out the window as I drove by. There are some things that will never cease to bring back good memories and make me happy. Blue Skies is one of them. So is the "Santa Barbara next 12 exits" sign. Broken hearts? Well, they don't make me happy. But I guess they're all part of the game.

I'm petrified. My hands are tied. I'm in the waiting place. I am almost completely powerless. I don't think i've ever been more frustrated.

This is my week of hell and I have a cold. WOW. If you're in town I'd love to hang out with you, but sometime after 8:00 Thursday night :) Until then I shall be locked in my room alone without contact to the outside world. That's the plan at least. UGH! Wish me luck.

It's just like high school.

I'm sitting here in my room in the middle of the night, shooting evil glances at my silent cell phone, writing theraputic emails to my oldest confidante, listening to slow, low music, and still deciding nothing. The only difference is, nothing can really be decided while i'm 200 miles away from my life. And with that decided, i'm going to bed.

I hate how a day can be going so well. Totally productive and everything and then all of a sudden one little thing just ruins the whole night and takes up a freaking hour when you could have been productive or at least slept. I'm in such a bad mood now and I'll probably be up for another hour without productivity with stuff on my mind. Being human is tough sometimes...

Everyone has Spring Break next week and I'm so jealous! If you're in SD you have to stop by and say hi... and make fun of me cuz I'm studying for tests and you're having fun. *sigh* C'est la vie.

It's finals week, okay? I all have to talk about is school.

I set myself up for some hardcore studying today. And I was studying...for about 3 hours. And now i'm burnt out and I can't do ANYTHING. But i'm going to prove myself wrong and do some studying now I hope. The difficult part is that tomorrow at this time i'll be all done and I just wish I could take both my finals right now so I don't have to get up at 8 tomorrow and write for several hours and then go and fill in some bubbles for another couple hours.

I'm almost done.

Happy Birthday Bobbys!!!

Me, being the overacheiver (read: idiot) that I am, decided to pick a difficult topic for the policy brief i'm doing for my pass-fail Global Studies class. Pass-Fail. Well, it's due tomorrow, i'm on page 5 of 7-10, and I have only just started proposing and refuting one of the three solutions that will compose the meat of the brief. I'm tired and bored already. It's going to be a long night.

I enjoy waking up curled into the pink folds of my pink bed, of my pink familiar bed to find out about the unfamiliarities of life.

Things are never how they seem. This, we have been taught to accept since the beginning of time. We've all been trained and cultured to expect the unexpected, expect life to come as a string of tiny failures, one loop glamourously leading to the next. They've taught us how to deal with the let-downs, how to bear the burdens of daily dissappointments without the risk of possible breakdowns. By now I know the high's and low's of rescuing my own wandering mind from fits of depression and loneliness. The one thing they never taught us is how to cope with perfection and happiness. Gratitude is something that we've had to learn on our own.

Most often, less is more.

Tidbits:

I was at the newspaper office just now, getting my story of all time read over, and my editor offered me a beer. My "no thanks" was followed by loud "boos" from all the editors. I was informed that I had committed an office foul. They have yet to make a daily drinker, chain smoker, no sleeper out of me...

My story of all time will appear in print the day we get back from Spring Break.

I took a tour of the Pentagon on Monday, and unfortunately I am unable to confirm that it is, in fact, shaped like a pentagon. They had a hell of a lot of security, though.

I heard Hilary Clinton speak on Monday, followed by Barbara Boxer, and John McCain. I went to a cool coffee shop bar and had good conversation with good friends as it was snowing outside.

I like Washington D.C. I like journalism. I like my friends. I like Metric. Focus on the other things in my life? I'm trying.

Leaping!

February 29 is Mr. Will Harvie's birthday. People like him only come on special days like that.

The man has changed and continues to change my life. Some kids in my class made him two big poster-size quizzes in a happy birthday flavored, Harvie-licious style (Monica and Nicole induce a current in an attempt to duplicate Mr. Harvie's electrifying smile. Draw the direction of the current and solve...), with comments like "Golden!" "DelMarvelous" and "Fantabulous!" written on them. And we got him a big polar bear (a... white bruin?).

If anyone asks, he's my hero.

So yesterday I was so excited when I found out my accounting class was cancelled that I decided I finally had time to go buy groceries! So I went to the store and just after I entered my Ralphs club card I realized I had left my wallet in my other purse. I had to drive home and get it and then they gave me my groceries. I was embarassed and it sucked :( At least I have food finally!!!

awww... my friend aneri jsut said one of the nicest things i've heard in a while:
HEYitsnedi: i think u will be an excellent doctor
lilbop85: awww... muchas gracias
HEYitsnedi: u are gonna be soo successful
lilbop85: i'm scared that i'm way too awkward though
HEYitsnedi: nooo
lilbop85: like i'm not professional
lilbop85: at all
HEYitsnedi: u'd be the cute asian doctor
lilbop85: hahahaha
HEYitsnedi: who'd be good w/ her patients

it's good to hear that i'm not one of those nerds who is absolutely lakcing social skills... cause i kinda like joking around and having fun with people, and if i'm going to deal with people for a living.. might as well be good at it.