sophomore 15
Just when I thought I'd escaped freshman fifteen....boom! Gosh, why can't I manage to get myself to a gym?
I was sooooooo close to getting my psychology work done today. I had pink and orange highlighters out, a post-it note diligently tabbed onto the page I needed to start on,...and then I started to wander. First to the window (picked up Anne Sexton's "Transformations"), then to the fridge (munchies), then to the computer.
On the bright side, I've officially started my English assignment. Isn't it great? I get to write a poem (2-3 pgs) plus an explanation of why the poem is awesome (3 pgs). Just when I thought my poems couldn't get any trippier, I decided to imitate Sexton's style in writing about Alice in Wonderland, which is ALREADY really really trippy. If I become really neurotic after this semester, you all know what to blame it on.
Then after I started my English, I decided to write a random-ass poem about nothing. But the good thing about writing about nothing is that it's at least something that I haven't written about yet. After taking creative writing for 3 semesters straight, I've realized that I'm completely burnt out and probably shouldn't take it next semester. Still, I'm afraid that if I'm not required to knock out a piece every week that I just won't make time to write. And even if I do write, who will read it?
One last thought: comfort vs. pleasure items? What would make me happier: a night out on the town including a great dinner and Broadway show, or a piece of jewelry? There was this article that I read which basically told guys that they should only give their girlfriends pleasure items. Reason: they can't be pawned. In addition, they're usually more eventful and allow the couple to spend time together. Anyway, since Xmas is coming up (everyone knows it's a month-long holiday), here's to wishing you all find the perfect gifts for your family and significant others.
QUICK NOTICE
1. I have enabled comments. Before, I hadn't realized that the default setting to the blog was that only users registered could comment. So rave and bash away dearies.2. I have survived Thanksgiving. Two full plates of food afterwards, I decided that my sophomore 15 wasn't going to go anywhere so I might as well enjoy it. ("It's all in your ass" --Jen, while making explosion sounds to indicate the massive growth)3. I love scarves. But not scratchy scarves--good scarves. Like, really really soft ones that you can press against your cheek and not wince.4. I'm in a rush right now, so a more insightful posting to come later.
wonderland
English precept got me thinking about how much I disliked adults as a child. For one, they didn't speak my language--how else would we communicate about things like the edges of fall-papered leaves and why I bother to bring them home? Or how about why it's so exciting to build a new variation of a Legos house that you'd never thought of before?
Sometimes I wonder exactly where my childhood ended and the mess began. So far, I've narrowed it down to a few possible points. Complicated, oh-so-traumatic points that only a therapist would bother figuring out after I paid the bill. Let's not get into this.
Luckily, I've had the chance to vicariously stay connected to my inner child. Every week, I assign the kids I tutor some writing prompt that helps them think and write without restrictions. No, you don't have to show them to me. Yes, it can be completely made up. But that's the thing about kids--they do want to share, and even get mad when I forget to set aside a 10 minute slot for them to read their journal entries to the class (this was over the summer, I only tutor privately now = 3 students a time or less). They come up with the most creative things for writing prompts though; some create new technology and use fancy lingo that even I don't understand, some tap into a sad childish emotion that wrenches my heart and makes me want to curl into a corner, and others don't mean to be funny but leave me clutching my gut and going "ha! if only he knew what this could really mean..."
Still, childhood isn't all it's made out to be. There's this movie called "After Life" that Jenny brought over (we watched a few minutes then tossed it) which had the premise of "if you could take only one memory with you and relive it forever in the afterlife, which would it be?" Some of them chose childhood, and it's understandable, because of the innocence and the curiosity and unaccountability for everything.
Even so, I can't remember truly being happy as a child. But does that mean that happiness is something that you can only recall before a certain age? Exactly how strongly can we remember emotions?
When was the last time I felt happier than I am now?
loser anthem
Anthem of the week: "Foxey Lady" - Hendrix
Can you really tell what a person's like by the music they listen to? Here, give it a shot. The last few songs I listened to were:
1. "Brick House" - The Commodores: I like me a little funk. I let my inner dork hang allllll out.
2. "The World is Not Enough" - Garbage: where do I begin with this song? It's sexy, it's crooning-ish, it's totally Bond.
3. "What is Love" - Haddaway: one of the first times Karl has ever seen me dance was when I was dragged onto the dance floor at a birthday party and forced to show off my disco moves. That's right--this girl can disco.
4. "Jesus Walks" - Kanye West: it makes me think of "Jarhead," which in turn makes me think of Jake Gyllenhall (mmm....). Oh, and it's a good song.
5. "Broadway" - Goo Goo Dolls: God, I love 90's music. Seriously, I'd listen to some of these songs and find myself knowing most of the words. Amazes me every time.
I'm really glad I got an Ipod for my birthday. I didn't really know what I was missing out on. It's kinda sad though; most of the songs I like I have to turn to an oldies radio station to hear...
snow white vs. stepmother: who's it better to be?
With the birth of teenage classics such as "Clueless" and the more recent "Mean Girls," has the storytale moral message been changed from one of virtue and endurance to one of survival? Does Darwin truly rule over teenage society?
As a teen on the verge of 20's-dom, I've seen and participated in a fair amount of battles: weak vs. strong, passive vs. bitchy, passive-aggressive vs. all out hair-pulling. But who truly wins in the end? It's been said that nice guys finish last--but this I can understand. In evolutionary terms, the more aggressive, jerky guys simply send out signals of testosterone: "Pick me! I have the strength and energy to protect your young from harm! Don't choose him! He's too nice! He'll just cower in the corner when the tigers come!"
From a more personal perspective, I picked someone so annoyingly self-assured that I hated him for a good part of my life. After all, I couldn't help but bench all the "nice guys" in my life simply because I thought they wouldn't perform as well in the game. Karl was more than a surprise though; instead of maintaining the narcissistic attitude I'd associated with him since forever, he proved that he kept a store of affection reserved for one person, and one person only. A true Beauty and the Beast story.
So if nice guys get benched, do nice girls finish last as well? Let's turn to my parents for a while:
Dad: If you ever get into a fight, don't lose. Don't walk away, either.
Mom: Someone you don't like? Here! I have a suggestion: (insert well-concocted evil plan here)...oh. but you should really try to be nicer. Oh! I have another idea!
In my family, it's all about survival of the fittest. Manipulation is simply a weapon that needs to be ground sharp every once in a while. For that matter, I always found a victim whenever my sword needed to be sharpened. There are 3 key elements in helping you get what you want: confidence, brains, and beauty. If you're missing one of the three elements, don't even try. Of course, the definition of brains and beauty aren't what you may think. If you're confident enough to believe you're the hottest piece of ass around, eventually you'll convince others too. As for brains, there's a difference between intelligence and wisdom (Mom pg.415). It doesn't matter whether or not you can spout mathematical equations on cue if you can't manage to say exactly what someone needs to hear.
My favorite Disney character of all time (ever since I was a little girl!) has been the stepmother from "Snow White." Now this is a woman to be admired. She knew exactly what she wanted and wasn't afraid to get it. She knew that Snow White would go for the pretty laces; she knew that she would buy a poisoned comb; she knew that she would be enough of a fatass to go for a poisoned apple. In our day, she'd rule supreme. It was only a stroke of bad luck that landed her into the jaws of (insert horny prince/wolves/etc depending on edition). See, I don't blame the queen at all for what she tried to do to Snow White: that bitch was obviously on her turf and there's only enough room for one pretty face in the kingdom.
potato chips/ harry potter
Potato? Potatoe? Pop quiz: who was the politician who misspelled "potato"?
If you have absolutely zero interest on this delightful spud product, please close the window now. Last warning. As of right now, my favorite flavors are as follows:
1. Lays lightly salted: for the afficionados who love the taste of the potato and not be overwhelmed by sodium overdose. Karl and I found this obscure flavor one day, and then without warning, it disappeared off the shelves for months. Months! So at first, we thought we'd only imagined it. After all, it took a while for him to believe that square granola cereal with holes in the middle existed. We even went to health food stores looking for them (result: weird looks from the way too peppy store clerk). Another thing about these chips is that they're not greasy, which is always a plus. You can eat a lot of them without feeling sick...not sure if that's good or bad.
2. Munchos: very reminiscent of middle school. Back then, a lunch consisted of a bag of munchos and a green slurpee (this was before they pulled the plug on what was one of the only bright ideas the school had). In high school, lunch was a cup of french fries and a lemon snapple. For those of you who like Munchos, you know how hard it is to overeat these, reason being--they're simply too salty. Light, yes. Delicate, definitely. But it's like biting your front teeth into an animal salt lick. Use sparingly.
3. Sour cream and cheddar: without a doubt, an acquired taste. I started liking these after a session of brief starvation and scrambling around to find edibles that weren't either stale or moldy. A bag later, I was hooked. I learned something about this in psych class, like how our bodies naturally reject something that made us sick the last time we ate it. I guess it also applies to things we like--even if we hated a food before, if at least one session we like it, we like it for real afterwards. May not be the first thing we reach for, but no gag reflex either. (oo! gag reflex, next entry..ha! sike!)
******************
What time is the right time to go watch the new "Harry Potter"?
First of all, definitely not the midnight showing. I cannot stand cosplay or people who think that just because they have a bunch of "homies" with them, that it gives them the right to blab on and on throughout the movie. My neck starts to tense up, and I imagine a million ways to exterminate them (not exactly in this order): a shoe up the ass, a straw through the brain, strapped down forced to listen to "Crazy Frog" on end without stopping...
Second, not during the day. Old people are the worst. It's easy to tell high school kids to shut the fuck up, but I just never picture myself saying that to an old woman fiddling around with her hearing aid.
Me: Ma'am, can you please stop talking?
Her: ....eh?
Me: MA'AM, CAN YOU PLEASE STOP TALKING?
Her (& co.): SHHH!! stop talking so loudly, I'm trying to pay attention to the movie!
It's just not right.
Third, not during Thanksgiving weekend. It's the only time anyone has to see a movie nowadays. Unfortunately, it's also the only time I have to go watch a movie. Whoever would've thought planning a movie trip would be so stressful? Maybe I'll just wait till the buzz is over.
food: how much is too much?
Part 1: Guilty Delights
With Thanksgiving around the corner and X-mas even closer behind, I started thinking about the different food items I've been craving:
1. Peppermint Bark from Williams Sonoma: regular chocolate bark has nuts in it, but peppermint bark has pieces of candy canes. One side is white chocolate, the other is dark chocolate. It's a bit pricey for how little there actually is per box, but it's worth nibbling on. In fact, because it's costly, it'll make it seem more like childhood--when you save and savor every little piece of candy one at a time. Ok, fine. I lied. I crammed my mouth with it like the rest of us.
2. G collection from Godiva: these chocolates go for about $3 a piece and come in boxes of 15, 30, and 45. You do the math. This is something I'd like to try (at least) once, because quite frankly, I can't take the guilt. There's already enough going towards my stomach, I don't need my wallet whining.
3. Pumpkin anything: pumpkin muffins from Dunkin Donuts, pumpkin pie, pumpkin cheesecake, pumpkin...
4. Egg: for those of you that don't know, I am a huge fan of the egg. I will eat eggs in almost any form--devilled, scrambled, poached, steamed (mm...steamed egg), and especially the Japanese style eggs that they stick on top of rice and call sushi. It has a sweeter taste and is a bit more moist than most types of eggs. My mother used to have this seasoning that she would put in it, but then we found out it was actually just pure MSG.
5. Hot chocolate: I can never make hot chocolate the right way. Usually, the only times I'll drink it is if it's at Barnes & Noble and need to buy something in order to sit on at the cafe tables. I recommend the Godiva hot chocolate because it's super-rich. I tried buying the Godiva hot chocolate mix for myself, but something's still missing. I guess that's how they can keep charging you exorbitant prices at their cafes.
**********************************
Part 2: The Hunger Banquet
In honor of hunger awareness week, Butler dining hall had a hunger banquet aimed at starving...me. I went through those doors expecting the same dried up chicken/wet pasta/dirty salad, and instead was ushered down the hall, card swiped, ribbon handed, colored paper picked...and suddently, I found myself sitting at a crowded table with nothing more than white rice on my plate. I wasted a meal on this?? How much do these meals go for now? $8? $9?
So I was pretty pissed off. To add to that, the colored paper kindly told me that my new name was Luftar, and that all my belongings had been destroyed by the hurricane. Ok, fine, sympathy. But I'm still hungry. And as I stared at the plate and avoided the random camcorders going around, I tried SO SO hard to think "So this is how most of the world lives, huh?"
Didn't work. See, these hunger banquets or fasts or whatever charity programs you can think of just don't work on people like me. I'm Cruella deVille; I wear fur, ignore beggars, hoard my money, etc awful things etc. Yes, it's not these peoples' faults that they weren't born into a richer country. But you know what? That money that I could've used to donate to a charity just went towards a lobster dinner to make up for one night of starvation.
But as I walked out of the dining hall, I felt something move inside me--a feeling so fleeting that I could not distinguish it from sympathy or hunger. Maybe I do have a heart after all. Maybe the hunger banquet did succeed in raising a little bit of awareness in me. I didn't wait to figure it out, just climbed the steps to my room and ravaged the last bits of pad thai left in my fridge.
The End.
fixed schedules
A brief glimpse of how I spend my days in college:
I get up about an hour before my alarm rings to adjust the shade (location: next to bed). Pull it down, block heat and incoming unlight. On Thursdays, this is about the time I ask myself "Should I go to Psych lecture when I know for certain I'm not going to be learning anything new? Or at least, be awake enough to learn anything new?" Recently, the answer has been: no. Hell no.
I set my Ipod to some walking music: "Golddigger," Spice Girls (a recent guilty pleasure!), Gwen Stefani, Ciara. One look at the mirror, and I'm out the door and trekking towards whatever faraway building du jour. Breakfast is optional, usually a banana or yogurt. These days it's been nothing; after all, I just get hungrier during class when I eat breakfast. Isn't that unusual?
I got out of class at 2:30 today and told myself I'd spend the rest of the day studying for my bio exam (time: Monday 11:00). From the moment I got back till right now, and possibly a little later on, I have been watching old episodes of "Sex and the City." To be honest, I did open my bio notes, but they scared the bejeezus out of me (question: what exactly is a bejeezus?). I know meiosis is NOT a difficult subject, but why can't I get it to work in my head? Am I just reproductively stupid?
So I'm in my jammies right now thinking about studying. Thinking very very hard about studying. I figure: okay, 3 days left to sift through everything from bacterial signaling to gay genes. Not too bad.
Oh! And I broke a sacred rule this week. I studied till 12! (Note: I have a rule about schoolwork. There is absolutely no watching of tv till after 8. Similarly, there is no doing of homework after 8. It works surprisingly well, but takes a while to get used to).
kooky ones
Another entry on squirrels:
Seriously, they're really starting to freak me out. Today, another squirrel literally stopped in its tracks just to stare at me. It wasn't until I was about an inch away that it calmly stepped to the side to let me pass. And as I looked into its little brown eyes, I believed they said:
"Oh join me fellow brethren 'mongst the trees
and with each other quickly conjugate.
Those passer-bys that carry no cookies,
we shall, from branches, freely defecate.
For how shall we, when wintry boughs do shake,
preserve our brown (and often black) physique
to march and find the yonder chocolate cake
in halls of dining whence the food doth reek?
"What, corpulent? No sir, not I," we sound
"just more endowed in width than those who waste
fair summer piling nuts beneath the ground."
What need have we for stupid summer haste
when bakery goods invade all garbage dumps,
when richness coils thrice-thick around our rumps?"
Iambic pentameter, poorly done, but I swear that's what he said. Sick little bastard. Oh, and I'm submitting it to Nasslit
call me daddy
If you don't know what I'm referencing, you're missing out. Big time. Now, after you finish reading this post, go to your handy search engine and type in: "Kevin Federline rap." I'd put in a few lines from there, but I don't want to ruin the surprise. Just don't die laughing or get your jaw stuck wide open.
But seriously, how does that guy manage to always look like a douche?
Today, I listened to "Milkshake" while reading Alice in Wonderland. It was pretty awesome. I think "Milkshake" should definitely be on its soundtrack, along with "My Humps."
So walking back from class, I realized how incredibly warm it is today. As I'm taking off my jacket and folding it against my arm, I tripped over a squirrel. Seriously, a black one. What a dumb--wait, no no. I have nothing against black squirrels, really. They're my homies. We cool?
drool, think, calculate, cry
Here're the reasons why I should never be bored:1. I tend to cause trouble for myself and (mostly) for other people.2. I get frisky/borderline violent, which leads to reason number 1, and the biting and slapping...just ask those closest to me. I'm like a puppy dog.3. I do online window shopping.Nowadays, we live in a society in which everything can be found on the Internet. The Web's even managed to create pseudo-holidays. Let me explain. First, you see something you really like online. You whip out your credit card, type in the number, decipher those contorted letter thingies on the confirmation site, and voila! You've paid for it. Now, when the package actually gets to your door, you've completely forgotten about paying for it, say, two weeks ago. It's like Christmas all over again: the gift, the mad tearing of the box, and instant gratification. So much better than buying things in person and actually seeing the exchange of cash.Really, it's no wonder why people are constantly going into debt. I was watching "King of Queens" today, and Carrie had come up with the idea of buying then returning really expensive designer clothes and shoes. Tuck in the tags, try not to get it dirty, return it the next day and say it doesn't fit. It's not a bad idea, but I wouldn't say it's something I'd dare to do. Plus, I'd feel pretty pathetic, which leads me to the question:So why am I putting myself through this?Why do I order magazines all the way from Japan to drool over things I know I can't have? Or could have, but just know better than to splurge? See, things are different from high school now. Before, even if I wanted a $500 Gucci bag, I wouldn't have the money to begin with--move on, find something cheaper. But now, I'm saving up money faster than I know what to do with, and the strangest thing is that I'm spending less than I used to. So what's changed?Let me name a few: wedding, down payment on a house, domestics.It's never too early, kids.