Two great songs.

I am constantly being introduced to new music by friends, hearing my dad jam out to Ian Dury (who I'm not a fan of...I wish he listened to Ozzy Osbourne still), or by self-referencing myself to new tunes I find online. I frequent The Music Ninja site. It's usually consistent in sound, with a lot of new things popping up on the site like Dubstep, a genre my friend A/P/G introduced me to. But I'm getting a fever for some electronic tuneage (cowbell optional). Two songs belonging to the genre were featured on the site today: "Charlie" by The Phantom's Revenge and ""I Think I Like It" by Fake Blood. I have "Fix Your Accent" & "Mars" by Fake Blood on my pod but The Phantom's Revenge is pretty cool dude too. Enjoy these.

"That dream kicks my ass"

I recently watched an HBO documentary produced by The Sopranos' James Gandolfini. The documentary was entitled Wartorn: 1861-2010, which revealed more about PTSD, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, and its effect on war veterans. Although I thought I understood the implications of the disorder and how it truly changes a soldier's outlook on life, the documentary involved veterans who suffered from it as well as stories coming from families affected by it, from mourning parents to distraught spouses.

"It [PTSD] kills you from the inside out," a woman told HBO, "My son couldn't escape the horrors of serving two tours in Iraq. He couldn't forgive himself for some of things he did and thought of himself as a murderer and a bad person because he still had the urge to hurt people, to kill people. The United States Army turned my son into a killer, they trained him to kill to protect others. They forgot to untrain him, to take that urge to kill away from him."

The dead soldier she spoke of, her son Noah Pierce, wrote a letter to his mom before he killed himself. In that letter he said, "Mom, I am so sorry. My life has been hell since March 2003 when I was part of the Iraq invasion. It has nothing to do with anyone. Don't stress about this. I'm freeing myself from the desert once and for all. I thought shit would get better but I was wrong..."

In WWI, it was calleed shell shock. But no matter how you slice it, it was still a problem that many people simply overlooked, claiming that soldiers who were feeling "funny" to just suck it up and quit acting like pansies. Shell shock and After by Herb B. Hayden of West Point appeared in The Atlantic Monthly in December1921 and described his experience with shell shock. In his story, he said  "I closed up like an oyster for I realized my friends, my country spoke a different language back, and yet not back at all. I still couldn't sleep. An insane desire to kill myself like my four friends had done took possession of me. I would toy with my automatic and figure out the best way to do it." He read several news articles about veterans seeking medical help but not receiving it. "What was wrong with my country?" he thought. "I wish I could properly describe the feeling of utter aloneness in the world. How dreadfully alone a shell-shocked man could be even though surrounded by those who love him most."

It was not until 50 years after WWII that veterans were being diagnosed with PTSD, but it was known as combat fatigue. PVT Michael Shieds, a veteran of the U.S. Army said, "I couldn't tell anybody. I thought every bartender in Brooklyn was my psychiatrist." He thought he was only one who came out of the war "with something wrong with my head." Shields left Africa while the war was still ocurring in 1945 and ended up in a psych ward in the Bronx after saying he was getting severe headches in the battlefield. "I had bad nightmares. I still have bad nightmares. And it takes all goddamn night to kill somebody," he added.

Gandolfini interviwed U.S. Army Sgt. John Mathews. "My life had been flipped upside down." Mathews suffered from depression, fatigue and contemplated suicide after serving his tour of duty. He said the high alert level in war zone burned him out physically even months after he was back home. "They expect you to just get back into society," the "they" he spoke of being family, friends and even the Army.

In a segment of the documentary called "The Unheard Cry of Jason Scheuerman," a mourning parent shared his son's struggle with PTSD and how it was left overlooked by a psychologist. Jason, who was in the 3rd infantry division, served his tour of duty in Iraq and came from a military family. While Jason was in Iraq he suffered from symptoms of PTSD. After telling his father, he went to see a psychologist who gave him a questionnaire to take. In the questionnaire, Jason said he had thoughts of killing himself, felt anxious, depressed, and felt hopeless. After being evaluated, the psychologist said, "the evaluation revealed that this service member does not currently meet criteria for any mental disorder." Jason called his dad after the evaluation and that was the last time his father spoke to him. Basically, the psychologist said Jason was faking, passively suggested he be a man, and to go back to his unit. This pattern of "being a pansy" was still a typical view by several people even as times changed and the war zone evolved to the Middle East. 

Even after a solider serves his tour, coming home is still a struggle. Sgt. 1st Class William Fraas Jr. of the U.S. Army served three tours in Iraq, a total of 29 months before being sent home for PTSD. One instance during the documentary, he was showing the camera pictures that were taken during his tour. "Turn that way!" he said to his son, preventing him from seeing what he lived through as he showed the camera the weapons, gore, and dust of a Middle Eastern conflict. "Every time his anxiety starts going, his leg starts shaking" his wife said. "Even though he wasn't shot or phsycially blown up by shrapnel or anything he still died over there because of who he was, was left over there." PTSD not only affects the person but a family as well.Even during a normal trip to Walmart, his head would be "on a swivel" if it was ever crowded or noisy. Fraas received a medal for bringing his troops home but along with that medal came nightmares he still has almost every night. "I've seen humanity at its worst...and I struggle with that on a daily basis."

 

The film Brothers, starring Toby McGuire and Jake Gyllenhaal is a prime example of PTSD affecting more than just the person with it. Transitioning back to normal life is something difficult and the ways soldiers cope with that transition oftentimes can turn violent or deathly.According to the film, 30 percent of incarcerated verterans have screen positive for PTSD. The loss of jobs, turning to alcohol for solace, and committing crimes were some of the things veterans said they did after leaving the front line. And if verterans weren't turning to these tactics as a release, then they were most likely hurting themselves.

General Peter Chiarelli of the Army wanted to change this opinion and attitude toward PTSD and suicide in Army. Here is a clip of his interview with Gandolfini...

This clip made me slightly assured that the military was taking PTSD more seriously. Although I do not support wars of any kind or believe that they will solve future problems among fighting nations, I commend those in the military who want to serve our country. The courage and strength each troop embodies is something I cherish. However, the visions of war and the situations each troop has found him or herself in is something I will never be able to relate to. I can't say the war has affected me the same way it has them. I don't think anyone who hasn't served in the military can truly relate to anyone who has. Of course they can experience PTSD, knowing someone or having a loved one serve in the military. But living in a place far from home, constantly having to look over one's shoulder, bringing back nightmares for years to come is certainly something I don't think any soldier wishes to come home with.

just realized my last post had nothing to do with Black Friday...

Song for post...


Sooo this morning my mom and I did that whole shop til you drop early in the morning thing. We haven't done this in a few years but I thought I'd come with her today to the QVC store so she can stand in line for an hour to buy a Dooney & Bourke purse, which was super cheap and well worth the wait. If a designer handbag originally priced for $200+  and ends up being sold at this store for only $70 then yah, I'd wait too. I'm not a fan of D&B but this bag was cute and if there were any left in brown she said she'd totes get me one too. However, one of the ladies in front of us who we became friends with while in line took the last brown one. Oh wells, I'm banking on a Longchamp tote instead :) But I'm glad my mom got her white one because she deserves it. Plus, I didn't really want a bag. Mama already bought me one for the same price at the mall last Tuesday night. Lovin' Michael Kors, especially when on sale double :) :)

I did however stock up on some awesome DVDs! I found Sixteen Candles in Target last Tuesday for 5 dolla! Finally. And I wasn't even expecting to find it. Even better. Today we stopped by Best Buy (post-chaos of course) to check out what was left of the on-sale movies. I picked up 3: Get Him to the Greek (10 dolla!), Animal House (classic, one of my dad's faves), & one of the greatest movies of all time, but unfortunately I wasn't born yet to enjoy and I think I began to enjoy it too late: The Graduate. Although it's an old film (1967) it's a classic. Simon & Garfunkel are amazing too, as they perform the score/soundtrack/music/whatever to the flim, including the song "Mrs. Robinson." I don't want to spoil the ending, but here's a clip from the movie that is rather well-known:


SIDENOTE
My mom is watching the news and a commercial came on for a car company and some sort of holiday sale. Accordingly, Vampire Weekend's "Holiday" comes on. It's great how they're in commercials now. This is it!


I'd also like to add how embed-crazy I'm going with these vids. Sorry, if its a bother but man, its just so frickin' convenient! AND it adds to the post. C'mon, admit it, would you really be here reading this shiz if you weren't visually entertained at the same time? If you said yeah, then why thank you ;)

Black Friday.

Here's some tuneage for the post. Ever since I figured out how to embed files rather than have my beloved followers click on links, disrupting the whole blog/music enjoying experience. I love this song and the artist who performs it. But this remix is so damn great. Turns a mellow song into a fun, mellow song.



Thanksgiving was delicious as usual. Mommom (my grandma) always makes green bean casserole knowing that I'll thoroughly enjoy it. I'm pretty much the only person on my dad's side of the family who eats it, yet she still makes it. I love her :) That's her down there putting the moutain of mashed "spudatas" on the dining table.

A picture of the lovely spread @ Aunt Trish's house.

I didn't have my phone at the dinner table, considering it would have been rude and when I eat, it's an all sense experience and reading/sending texts is something that should be postponed especially during an important meal such as last night's. But I wish I took a pic of the spread on my plate. I didn't even have room for my Pillsbury roll! But the spread included: turkey (duhh), stuffing, cranberry sauce, mashed spudatas, corn, broccoli n cheez, green bean casserole (YES), yamz with pecanz, and that roll not fit for the rest of the plate. Oh, and Martinelli's Sparkling Grape Juice. Hellz yerrr I love that stuff. After feeding the food baby living in my stomach and probably gaining back all the weight I lost up at school (so long, lightweight considerations for next semester), all I wanted to do was remove the high waisted belt preventing me from breathing. Huff.

As the tryptophan was kickin' in, I helped mama wash some dishes, played with Max, my aunt and uncle's special cat. He really is special. They adopted him from the SPCA I believe and they were told he has neurological difficulties, which cause him to walk sideways sorta and lean to the side. My stepgrandpa calls him Lean-to and said yesterday that if Max was a girl they shoulda called him Eileen (get it? I Lean..bahah). But he is more loving than any ordinary cat and he has this odd belly that I love playing with. It kinda just hangs there. He's not even fat but you can kinda just put his belly in your hands like a bean bag. Fun.

Max <3

Speaking of my stepgrandpa, he is great too. I didn't know he had a Blackberry so of course, we exchanged pins. I am now Blackberry friends with my stepgrandpa (who, for the record, is more of a grandfather than my dad's dad who I only see twice a year as I listen to the same stories he shares with us every time we see him. And I don't really know what to talk to him about. And he makes trips to NYC often with his wife who I don't remember seeing since I was a baby - even then I didn't know what she looked like. He knows I go to school in New York and that its quite easy for me to get to the city. But no, he doesn't ask to meet up. That's love for ya). I should probably tell Muff Boobs/the apprentice to quit changing my statuses now that I'm friends with my stepgrandpa. He'll probably wonder what I mean if he sees my status as "Whoa, I shit my pants again. That's the third time today!" or "I like it when things are shoved up my butt." I wouldn't be able to go to family dinners without permanently being red-cheeked. And he'd probably tell my Mommom to quit making green bean casserole thinking that it would severely affect my bowels.

(Un)comfortable with enmity.

After catching up on Red's posts that I've been failing to read (sorry, Red!), I just finished reading her "Not So Glee-ful" post and had a brush of inspiration. Although I am not a Gleek, the jist of her post was what intrigued me. She touched on some serious topics that many people including myself don't necessarily think of all the time.The topic involved certain slurs that come out of our mouths when referring to things that are "lame" or "stupid." We use other words to describe such things like: "gay" or "retarded". And another word that, to me, sounds like nails on a chalkboard with a hint of a pig getting ready to be butchered (graphic I know)...faggot. I'm not too keen on the word at all. I'll admit, I am guilty of using it when I was young and ignorant of the hatred that the gay community had received and is still receiving. I'm guilty of using when arguing with my father about, ironically, homosexuality. He would always make these stupid jokes while we watched television and if the slightest "gay" thing was broadcasted, he'd have something to say. "Oh no, he's not gay at all," he say sarcastically. I'd get pissed at him for saying such jokes because over time I realized how hurtful words can be. And its not just the words "faggot" and "gay" that irritate me. The N word alone can describe all forms of hatred of a single race if not all minority groups. I don't use it but it is included in a few of my friends' vocabularies. I can't mother someone and say, "You're ignorant." But I'm certainly entitled to say, "Please don't use that word around me. Thank you." Kindly of course...until they start getting defensive. Then No More Mr. Nice Spice will be forced to be unleashed.

Basically, one should watch what he/she says around certain people because they will encounter a multitude of different people in the real world (and if that's too hard to do then think before you speak or move to a society that thinks like you do, which is probably Mars or nonexistent). I remember one instance where I was talking to an acquaintance I had Sociology class with freshmen year. We were talking about our schedules and work load and I said how one of my classes was "retarded." He kindly said how he doesn't like that word because he works with mentally disabled youth. I immediately felt bad and apologized.

Everyone is entitled to their own opinions about race, orientation, politics, mental illness, etc. But that doesn't mean we can totally forget about respect. I'm sure I will struggle with saying hating words in the future, mindlessly spitting one out when I find myself in a flustered situation. I am not perfect nor do I try to be but working on something that I'm capable of changing (the words that come outta my mouth), unlike disabilities, sexual orientations, and race that are unable to be changed about someone. What I try to do is better myself in a sense that I will be more respectful (with the ocassional immature mishap...as in being a goofball at practice or dancing at work or cursing like a sailor). Do I at least get points for trying?*

*I've actually been really good so far, using words like "lame" or "foul" or "fuckness." And if any of my friends say certain words that make my ears bleed I kindly/slightly mention how I don't like those words. But mostly I just scrunch my face.

The following music video is not only a song I enjoy, but it embodies a unique love that many may not understand because it includes scenes that aren't exactly socially accepted (although we've come a long way for gay rights...but still). And I also have this HUGE crush on Alex Ebert aka Musical Jesus (he's scruffy when fronting Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros who I still need to see before I die...musical ecstasy. I'm sure one of their concerts would be so hippie-centric...totally up my alley). As for Brady Corbett, who is gay in real life, I like him without the eye liner but hey, who am I to judge? Enjoy your Turkey Day y'all.

 

Haome sweet haome.

Finally...after what seemed like a month (actually more than a month) of hell, I'm finally home. Despite my forgetting my phone charger and avocados* I made it in one piece and in good timing (just under two and a half hours!).
*luckily I have the old-fashioned cigarette lighter phone charger in my car I can use. And the avos will be ripe for when I return to school.

I came home to an empty house but my parents arrived five minutes after me WITH dinner. As if mama read my mind, she brought home a large hoagie (sub) to the Allen household. My favorite samich ever...the Bobbie, which was great because it's literally a preview of Thanksgiving. It's the amazing holiday on a roll. Pulled turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce (not the jellied, canned kind), and a little mayo on an Italian roll. Epic sauce in and around my mouth. Sooo good. I was so hungry I forgot to take a picture on the crackberry but here is what the beast looks like...

Heaven.

After dinnah with mama & Bill, which wasn't awkward (Thank God because its the holidays and the last thing I want is awkwardness at a place I've been seeking refuge from fucking New Gross for so long), I met up with the haome biffle Steph and her new boyf to see HP7. I do not read the books like Steph does but I still enjoy going to see the movies because they are so totally awesome and the movie magic still amazes me and gets better every time I see a new chapter of the Harry Potter legacy. As I waited for them outside the tiny movie theater near the University of Delaware (wondering if I'd see anyone I knew, which I kinda sorta did in a Facebook way - I saw my old friend from high school's boyfriend. I don't know him but I know of him via Facebook due to Relationship status and pictures). I saw Stephy poo from a distance and kinda waited for whether or not she would run to me, which she did, so I booked it from the entrance of the movie theater and ran into her. Oh, how I've missed the haome biffle so much. It was soo great to hug her after what seemed like so long (even though I saw her for a split second before I left for school after Columbus Day).

So far, break is blissful. Although I may have to do that whole Black Friday shopping thing for a new comp. AND I need to figure out if I can get any of my old files off of my dunzo comp and onto a new one or if it's even possible because I don't have a clue as to what is wrong with it. All I know is that the blue screen of death and is in full swing on my Mac that should probably be on life support. Or is on life support. It's in a vegetative state but can still be turned on and off. That's pretty much it though. Comatose. That'll be its new name. Comatose my comp. Lovely.

Go on, begone, bye bye, so long.

"Make peace with your past so it won't screw up the present."

This was my friend's Facebook status last week.

It made perfect sense to me, which is ironic because I am such a bitter person when it comes to my past and trying to make amends with the parts that made me upset in the first place. Said parts involve people a majority of the time if not all parts of my past. Instances where I become so bitter involve people that may have pissed me off, which is normal. I'm sure I'm not the only person who feels a brush of hatred towards those I've had bad blood with. Everyone does: exes, bitches in high school and even now in college, family members, professors who we loathe due to their lack of excitement and zest in the classroom or grumpy Scrooge-like attitude towards teaching as well as the ones they teach, and so forth.

But what makes it even more difficult to make peace with my past is when it involves people I've had really good relationships with before things got so shitty. People you've gotten to know so well over a short period of time or maybe a lifetime. People you've met under certain circumstances or else wouldn't have met at all. People you didn't think you'd become friends with or thought differently about before knowing them for who they really were. Those types of people. And when things turn sour with them or better word, change, I get nervous and upset and confused and annoyed and as stated before, bitter.

I've had many a relationship as this kind with many different people. It's not so much a big deal as many others would see it. I'm just different and take my friendships seriously with certain people who I feel I've grown close to. My reason for being bitter is probably due to the fact that my guard usually stays up unless I feel I can be comfortable around someone enough to let them into my confusing, awkward, bizarre, weird, funny, out-there, unique, unconventional life.

SIDENOTE
I'm in the library and some girl is talking really loud on her phone...in Chinese. I'm not an expert on foreign languages and maybe I'm being stereotypical but I know its not Tagalog because I'm half Filipino. But no offense, it sounds Asian, so I'm gonna guess she's talking in Chinese. 

But the moment I feel as if these relationships change, I freak out. I kinda test the waters to see if things are the same but if I feel that it's different, I push away. I distance myself off from that person or group of people even though at the same time all I want to do is hang out with that person or group of people. It's somewhat of a defense mechanism. Again, I'm weird and I'm in this limbo of either having a heart that melts or no soul at all.

Sometimes I don't want things to change and when change happens I'm not used to it. However, I am adaptable to change. And I can adapt rather quickly and slightly swiftly. It takes me some time to get my feet wet in new waters but I adapt. Whether I like it or not.

I've written a post a long time ago about change. It was called: It's been a lot to change but you will always get what you want. It involved an article I read in an old issue of Cosmopolitan. I have changed over the course of my life. In good ways and maybe even some bad ones. But overall, I'd like to think that I've changed based on experiences I've been in with people, even past ones I was bitter about. I've learned from old experiences as to not digress into similar habits. But there are those rare occasions where I find myself doing the same old shit. And it scares me so much sometimes.

I'm an independent thinker most of the time. I hold myself to my own personal standards (which aren't that high) and try to make my own decisions without being side tracked by the views of others. I'm usually good with that when it comes to personal opinions on topics such as politics, gay rights, abortion, illegal aliens, the Middle East and so forth. But sometimes I'm passively, subconsciously influenced by others, especially ones I'm intrigued by. I'm a TRYer of sorts. I need to try certain things at least once for the experience of doing it, saying I've done it, or because I curiously want to try something (which is usually the case). Some things I wish not to try/do again but I still find myself doing them. Bad habits? Meh, maybe. Am I reliving these habits again because of the people I'm meeting or surrounding myself with certain people? Meh, maybe.

I've said in my earlier post "Change is normal and it happens to us all." I didn't mention how I'm afraid of it sometimes. But sometimes it just happens. Despite my fear of it, I have to let it happen so my future isn't clouded by my past. And after reading my friend's status as well as listening to "Fading" by Rihanna, I've come to the realization that change is inevitable and even if it does happen to things we don't want to see change, sometimes we can't control it. As the popstar states, "you're fading away." But I'm doing the same.

I told someone who I've had a really good relationship with in the past that things have changed between us. I was bitter about it and she knew that. I told her that. She knew how bitter I was. We ran in circles numerous times about the same ol' shit because of my fear of this change in our friendship. During this semester, it has been becoming more obvious to me that this change is uncontrollable. It just happens as I said before.

Things can certainly be worked out and friendships shouldn't just fade because things aren't the way they used to be. I'm sure said friend and I will eventually patch things up, which sorta happened earlier when I was leaving for work, which I wasn't expecting to happen. At the same time there are always bumps in the road or distractions that side track us, so change isn't going to always be an easy journey. I'm not expecting things to be peachy keen right away either. That's another thing: expect the unexpected. Even though change can be a scary thing sometimes, we're able to realize something new when it happens. New things about ourselves, about others, about life in general. Things we didn't expect to happen.

On my way to the library to write this, I noticed how beautiful the weather was outside. It wasn't as cold as one would expect mid-November to feel like. It was brisk and fresh. The technicolor leaves everywhere was amazing and inspired me to run outside later tonight. As seasons change, so do people, as I said in that old post. So as this season changes from fall to winter, maybe my outlook on change in general will slowly turn to accept change a lot easier than I am now. And to not expect certain outcomes or events to occur is something I wanna also work on during the season of...change :)

The invasion.

I lacked a camera on this eventful and momentous weekend. Our lovely Oz abroader friends from ND came to visit. Unfortunately not all of them were present but a few came out for the Army v. ND game at the new Yankee Stadium. Pretty stellar but I lacked the cash flow to go. ND won thank Jeeeezus.

The lady domers came a little before noon. I was still clad in my pink Hello Kitty towel wrap when I greeted them. Naked hugs are just as good.

SIDENOTE
The rework of Daft Punk's "Rollin' and Scratchin'" is not bad. However, I like the original still.
http://www.themusicninja.com/rework-chilly-gonzales-rollin-scatchin-chilly-gonzales-rework-minimix/

I took the 3 on the infamous campus tour that I finished in a mere ten minutes considering we lack the abundance of exciting, vast space that ND is used to. I'd like to think that they enjoyed the brick buildings and our rowing tank to say the least.

Lunch at the eatery and an introductory course in Red Mango before we went back to my place for some
Leinenkugel's Sunset Wheat and lounge time. We got ready to go to Happy Hour at Flaco's. Margaritas and guacamole...can't get enough. Had some din-din, more pals came including the male domers who would have gotten here at the same time as the lady domers...but they opted to take their "short" cut setting them back a good 3 hours. Nice, guys.


Back to Tor's apartment where her roomie was having a birthday party keg thing with grub, friends, and you know, two kegs. There were these cute little, bite-size cupcakes there from Baked by Melissa, a bakery in Union Square (according to someone who told me this because I didn't know this until the partay). This will definitely come in handy for my own birthday in April. I had about three or four, including this super duper cosmic one. Beautiful.

In and around my mouth. Whoever this Melissa woman is, she is GENIUS.

SECONDARY SIDENOTE
I just looked over my shoulder to see if anyone was looking at my computer in the library. I didn't want anyone seeing me going back to YouTube to replay Rihanna's song "Fading". I'm gonna talk about it in a blog later so you can listen to it :)


A few shots later, we take a late night trip to the city for a night out. My friend Jamie has never been to the city and when we got into Grand Central, she looked so cute as she looked up in amazement at the famous terminal around her. It's not a trip to the city unless you run around the center of the Main Concourse, which we made her do in our stupor.


We trek ten blocks uptown to Turtle Bay, where the biffnugg used to guest bartend. I always have a great, debaucherous night at Turtle. Girls dancing on the bar is normal, napkins being thrown like confetti is too. But not threatening to punch a girl in the face for spilling my friend's drink on me. See, that's not normal because that was the first time I ever did that to a complete stranger. Sad thing is is that she was legitimately sorry OR was so drunk that she didn't know how to be a bitch back to me...


My friend Joel's drink spilled down my back somehow. I turned around and he said, "It was that girl." I walk in her direction, tap her on the back and she turns right around. "You just spilled my friend's drink on me." "Oh, I'm sorry," she said legitimately sympathetic. "You, like, can't do that," I said back straight-faced. "Okay," she said with a scared look on her face. "If I see you again, I'm gonna punch you in the face," I said without hesitation. "Okay," she said still scared. "Okay, bye," I said. "I can't believe you did that!" Joel said when I came back. "Wow, I never did that before," I said. Then I went on drinking and dancing.


But that wasn't even the first time spillage occurred. The first drink I order upon arrival was knocked out of my hand when some stupid drunk bitch was trying to climb on the bar. I look up at her Barbie-tan fuck of a face and say, "Really? Really." "Oh ma gaaa hahahaha I'm sorry," the cunt scab said back before dancing like a stupid white girl. The bartender saw the fuming steam coming out of my ears and quickly made me a new one. Rough start. Then I accidentally got a little too excited when "Infinity" came on and my fist pump turned into a self-defense move into my friend Joel's nose. Oops. Sorry Joel Hole.
Listen to the nose-bleeder: "Infinity" by Guru Josh Project (quite a name huh?)


Then the second time was the threat I explained earlier. The third time was at the bar when Joel, the biffnugg, and I were doing shots. This douchebag behind him knocks his shot right out of his hand it spills all over the beer. The guy didn't even realize he did this so I tapped this fella on the shoulder...
Me: You just spilled my friend's shot all over the bar
Stupid Douchebag Spiller's friend: He didn't mean to, its so packed in here
Me: Yeah, but there goes 8 bucks
Douchebag spiller: I'm sorry I didn't mean to (but in an assholey tone)
Stupid DS's friend (who shouldn't even fucking be involved): It's packed in here
Me: That's fine, it's just the way you are.
Stupid man who shouldn't be involved (new name): That's just the way I am? It's packed in here!
Me: Yeah, its ok..really. You have a good night.
Stupid man who shouldn't be involved (loved how he was arguing for Douchebag Spiller): Yeah, I will have a good night.


Stupid fucking people sometimes. I swear.


It was great to be a in bar/club with a few of the Port Lodgers again. It was like Freo. Good times dancing and singing and having a great time with everyone. It was like we were in Newport or Metros or one of those fun clubs we would go to in Freo. Sorry, no karaoke tho :( so it wasn't like The Orient. On our way back to Grand Central, I asked five people for a cigarette, only to be told, "Sorry." I don't smoke but there are those few occasions where I just need one when I'm semi-obliterated (I can understand why Red did this when we went to go visit ND a month ago). The biffnugg was hungry so we walked to the gyro stand right outside the terminal while our friends waited inside. While we were in line, I noticed this awesome printastic shirt the guy in front of us was wearing. I thought to myself how I've seen this print before but didn't know where. I drunkenly say, "This looks like Anthony" and drag my hand right down this guy's back at the cool print (kinda like how Emile Hirsh did that in Girl Next Door when he was on Ecstasy and touched some fat guy's tie). The guy turns around and as fate stepped in, it was IN FACT DJ PAULY D aka ANTHONYYYYYYYYYY! Kayla and I scream, he screams, and we hug in this awkward, awesome, drunk, group hug, jumping up and down and laughing. I kinda owe it to the Biffnugg for being drunkgry because if she didn't want that gyro we wouldn't have crossed paths with our favorite traveling buddy. We've missed him heaps :)

I love you Anthony :)

We made it home, barely, considering everyone passed out. On the way home we were in the cab and a friend who came with our lady domers opened the door at a red light thinking we were home. "Ummm what are you doing? We're not home yet," I say. We all LOL and LMAO and then we make it home shortly after. I'm out for the count. I wake up for practice five hours later still drunk. But that's okay because rowing tipsy is kinda fun and at times I perform a little better if the set is right.


The domers go to the city before we come home (this is when they left for the Army v. ND game). I spent the rest of the day rotting on my couch with a box of wine and some friends. I go to IHOP at 11pm for dinner before coming back to get ready for the return of our domers. ND killed the Army so I was assuming people wanted to rage. Of course I was dead, exhausted and close to broke as fuck. Well, I am broke as fuck but it was totally worth the friends who came to visit. We meet up with everyone at Beechmont, which used to be called The Levy, which is the same Levy Don McLean's sings about in his song "American Pie," which is a singer who went to my collegiate institution. How cool is that?


We have a Magner's for Freo's sake and share some laughs before heading home at 215am. Despite the visit being brief, it was a breath of fresh air to see some friends we've become so close within a span of four and a half months. We're already planning another trip out to ND...we love them THAT much. Thanks to all the friends we saw and I hope they had a great time. It was a great way to finish school before going home for Thanksgiving, something I am beyond excited for since I'm getting sick of this place and wanna get outta here so badly. Epic weekend. I miss you guys already.

Spontaneity.

Yesterday morning I was quite the stressed bunny. I was up the night before, sore out of my mind from Tuesday night's workout (read "defeated" blog post), and still had a PowerPoint presentation to complete by Thursday and be prepared to talk about in front of my Senior Seminar class for Mass Comm. I also had a Marketing exam I was nowhere close to finished studying for. I stayed up until 2am Wednesday morning. I slept for a depressing two hours before randomly waking up at 4am. I tossed and turned until 6am. My alarm went off at 745am. And I still had some studying to do before my exam at 930am.

I got ready quickly, got the last spot in the more convenient parking lot on campus (fuck the garage, yo!), and went to the business school to study until my exam. I don't know what it is about this course but I didn't think I did too bad. I was outta there within a half hour. Let's just hope for the best. I aced the last two exams and I did well on both parts of the semester project (mishap included).

All the stresses of senior year were coming at me all at once. Maybe because I recently started thinking of my post-collegiate life and coming to terms with the fact that movie/wine nights are not going to get me through life or pay the bills (although being a critic for either would be fucking awesome). I had to get the ball rolling with the work yet I've been lazy to start. The semester ends shortly after Thanksgiving break and I was being bombarded by all of these projects due so soon. Maybe I should have kept up with all this work. It was finally hitting me; the word "slacker" stamped on my titties (figuratively speaking).

At the same time I've been in a serious, blah mood and I felt that I've done a few grown-up things recently. I submitted two resumes to two ad agencies, worked a shit ton on my Senior Seminar presentation, worked my ass off at rowing practice (this is not so much grown-up oriented but it was work nonetheless). And for a time, I maintained a tidy living space, did laundry, and load/unload the dishwasher. This may seem like I'm making the slightest tasks seem like huge endeavors but even the smallest things in life can make us feel so accomplished.

Having said that, I did something I wouldn't have normally done without telling my closest friends first. I got my rook pierced yesterday with Muff Boobs. If you don't know what the rook is, it's a funky part of cartilidge in one's ear and the piercing is usually finished with a bar or a hoop (Both Muff Boobs who I also call my BFP aka Big Fucking Pony opted for bars). This all started when...

I was on my way to the library to get started on some productivity with my Senior Seminar PowerPoint after I finished my exam. I saw Muff Boobs walking to the gym. I yelled an obscenity her way (because I don't know how to be nice and say "Hey friend!" to my peers). We went to go say Schmello to our coach who is really coool. I remember before taking my Marketing exam how I had this brush of indecision about a peircing. I knew I wanted to get another one eventually but I was thinking about getting tragis pierced instead - that's the tiny piece of ear meat that dangles from the side of your face like so:

I was literally peeing in the bathroom when I thought, Hmm, maybe I want my rook done instead. When we went to go visit our coach I told Muff Boobs about my change of heart about the rook. "DO IT! LET'S GO TODAY!" I thought to myself for a moment before saying "Okay." Nonchalantly.

I got a solid two hours of work done in the library on my PowerPoint (ocassionally touching my rook) before Muff Boobs was on my ass about going to the piercing place. We went. We paid. We got pierced. It hurt for momentarily but I didn't flinch. "Jules, you didn't even move," Muff Boobs said after the woman stuck a needle through my cartilidge. Muff Boobs went second. Poor thing was super frightened but got through it, squeezing my hand for the whole three minutes it took for the woman to pierce her rook.

Finished product :)

 Spontaneity. It's ok to let loose and do something out of one's element. Even if I planned on getting something done eventually, the fact that I just up and did it without really telling anyone or asking for an opinion is a little unlike me. I mean, I don't always ask for an opinion but it's nice to get some input once in a while. I'm quite happy with my decision. It hurts now and I can't sleep on my right ear for a while but oh well :)

As for that huuuuge Senior Seminar presentation I worked on, it went really well today. I incorporated my audience, got them interested and listening, used my "asian charm" as my friend Sasquatch suggested I do, I practice it in front of Tor until her ears bled last night, made everyone laugh with my dry sense of humor, and I smiled. One of my professor's comments at the end of my presentation was "Your calm demeanor hides your dry sense of humor. I had no idea how funny you were." (Well, I did tell the whole class at the beginning of the powerpoint how I enjoy peeing outside and being active and sweaty. Whatever, they laughed and when people laugh I feel less nervous). All in all, I turned it on by the time I got up there. I knew my shit and went through each slide with ease. I operated the Smart Board equipment confidently and had interesting videos to show everyone as well as keep them engaged at 1030 in the morning. Good on me :)

defeated.

I shoulda wrote this two days ago considering that I felt defeated...well, two days ago. Not so much yesterday or today. I mean, I think about it, reflect on it, share the story of my defeat with friends. But I built my bridge shortly after practice where this defeat occurred.

This is our last week of practice and we've been done with the season for about a week and a half. But our coach says that this week is just "a preview of what winter training will be like when we come back after winter break next semester."

This is the part that I loathe the most about crew. It's allllll indoor for a good solid two and a half months, right before two-a-days/spring break training begins. We don't get to go to Cancun, or Bermuda, or any fun places for that special week off in the Spring. Rather, we stay in New Gross, as a team, and go to rowing practice, in the wind, rain, and sometimes sleet (depending on when Spring break is...it's happened before), or on the erg indoors twice a day for a week. Granted, we spend the week together, having fun and bonding, and celebrating St. Patrick's Day in the city :) So that's a plus!

But the reason for my feeling of defeat that I haven't felt in a long time since that mishap with my Marketing project many a post ago happened at practice. We did erging pieces to get ready for our half marathon on the erg that we all will be doing today. We do it every year to raise money for the rowing team to get new equipment. A half marathon of erging is approximately 21,097 meters, which will take me well over an hour to complete.

OKAY BUT I SHOULD PROBABLY GET TO THE FUCKING DEFEAT STORY.

On Monday we had to do two 35 minute pieces and some core workouts that quickly reminded me of what winter training will involve. I did really well on the two pieces and this is where I rewarded myself with Red Mango after a much needed shower. The next day my hamstrings hated me, and Tuesday's workout was not going to be sympathetic towards the beating my muscles were taking. Tuesday's workout consisted of ten 1000 meter pieces changing the rate (speed) 5 times: 22 strokes a minute, 24, 26, 28, 30. We did two pieces at each rate with a minute of rest in between each piece. When it comes to both running AND erging, I am not a sprinter. I do really well when I pace myself over long periods of time. And since my body was already in pain from Monday's practice, my hamstrings were being really stubborn and the tightness slowed me down. At one point during a minute of rest, I hunched over, sweat dripping EVERYWHERE. I just finished a pathetic piece at a rate of 26 and I lost it. Started to cry into my chest. I didn't have enough time to have a full out mental breakdown so I collected myself and struggled through the remainder of the practice.

I was disappointed with my performance considering I did so well the day before. But I built my bridge afterwards and Wednesday was a new day. But this brush of defeat was something I haven't felt in a long time. This kinda proved to me how passionate I felt about rowing. I didn't wanna let myself down nor did I want to show the novice and my fellow varsity teammates I was struggling when in my mind, as well as their own, I have improved so much since last fall. I believe that we all have our off days and this is one of those instances where I'll get back on my feet and just do better in the future.

Soda. Fro-yo. Powerpoint?

I haven't had this in such a long time. I love this soda. Not only does it have a great citrus taste but its also zero calories without that diety taste. It'll still make you bloat like a girl on her period and make you belch like a frat guy but its awesome and I'm downing it as we speak. A dollar and seventy-nine cents plus tax never tasted so good.

While I chug my bottle of Fresca that is gonna be empty soon, I'm doing work in the library (well, after I write this of course). After a hiatus of being an emotional wreck a majority of the weekend, I'm starting to feel a bit better. I went and spoke with my professor about my presentation I was nervous about. He said, "Wow, you don't seem nervous right now. I wouldn't have guessed you were nervous. You seem very composed." And that's the thing with me: I don't look nervous but internally I'm doing that Macaulay Culkin Home Alone face. 

Me on the inside :\

I also kicked hiney at practice during the two 35 minute pieces we had to do. Coach let me do the cheer at the end where everyone huddles together after a good workout. "Why don't you do it Jules, you're the sweatiest." I lost a little weight since the last time I checked so maybe my hopes of being a lightweight rower will come true come next semester. It's really just my excuse to lose weight but being a lightweight rower is some passive motivation for doing so. 

I got me some much-deserved fro-yo (70 minutes worth of erging, a badass core workout, and minimal foodie in my system today made fro-yo something worth having) with Tor at Red Mango (after I went home and showered of course). We chit-chatted over antioxidant-filled tart yogurt goodness* before hitting up the library where we are currently blogging. Yeah, I talked her into starting one and I'm really excited to see what she has to say. 

*I opted for Pumpkin Spice since its a seasonal flavor. But I also enjoy White Peach, Original, and Black Cherry. 

SIDENOTE

Considering my friends and I frequent Red Mango often this semester (the word "often" being an understatement), we were only introduced to the Red Mango Loyalty Card on this visit. I wasn't really listening as the girl behind the counter was explaining to me how the point system worked. All I knew is that I probably racked up enough points to have gotten $5 off a purchase if we got these spiffy things weeks ago. What the fuck. 

And here I am. About to get started on this God-foresaken, I'm-totally-nervous-but-looked-composed, maybe-shouldn't-have-procrastinated-all-semester presentation that I have on Thursday. Luckily, it's only 15 minutes long but I should probably have an idea of what I'm talking about. I'm glad my professor and Tor gave me some pointers. I just want Thursday at 11am to be here now (11am is when my presentation would end and then I wouldn't have to worry about it any longer and just anticipate the arrival of some fellow Domers who are coming to visit us in New Gross). 

I still wish I had some Fresca left to chug. 

Insightful.

I just finished reading Red's latest post. Her final words sum up not just how she's feeling but how I'm feeling toward my final year of college. It's scary, it's exciting, it's up and it's down. But here, she says it better:

*Dichotomy: division of a whole into two especially mutually exclusive or contradictory groups or entities. Perfect description of my emotions during senior year, both those regarding the year as a whole and those at any given time towards any given event, as well as the expectations of the year and the expectations for a person in my position. It's a mixed bag of feelings, of requirements, of student and 21 year old, of child and adult, of broken hearted and fully living, of American and Australian, of past and present, of myself and friend. Of hopes and dreams. I can never quite figure it out, and you probably can't either. For me or for yourself.


She's quite the insightful Irish Buddha.

I find you stunning but you are running me down.

Jon McLaughlin's old album Indiana KILLS me (while his face makes me melt). Listening to "Beautiful Disaster" last night kinda made me tear up. I'm not a 17-year old girl but I can relate...listen to it: "Beautiful Disaster"
Some insightful lyrics from the song come from the beginning (kinda where I lost it).

She loves her mama's lemonade,
Hates the sound that goodbyes make.
She prays one day she'll find someone to need her.
She swears that there's no difference,
Between the lies and compliments.
It's all the same if everybody leaves her.

And every magazine tells her she's not good enough,
The pictures that she's seen make her cry.

And she would change everything, everything just ask her.
Caught in the in-between, a beautiful disaster,
And she just needs someone to take her home.


Call me pathetic but there comes a time when you just wanna pop on some sappy, sad tunes. And letting out a good cry isn't so terrible either. Right?

But my favorite song (ever?) would probably be Ingrid Michaelson's "Sort Of." Not only is it a great song in general but the lyrics say, "Oh hey, this is about you!" to me.
Listen and find peace: "Sort Of"

Baby you've got the sort of hands to rip me apart
And baby you've got the sort of face to start this old heart
But your eyes are warning me this early morning
That my love's too big for you my love

Baby you've got the sort of laugh that waters me
And makes me grow tall and strong and proud and flattens meI find you stunning, but you are running me down
My love's too big for you my love
My love's too big for you my love

And if I was stronger then I would tell you no
And if I was stronger then I will leave this show
And if I was stronger then I would up and go
But here I am and here we go again

Baby you've got the sort of eyes that tell me tales
That your sort of mouth just will not say, the truth impales
That you don't need me, but you won't leave me
My love's too big for you my love
My love's too big for you my love

And if I was stronger then I would tell you no
And if I was stronger then I will leave this show
And if I was stronger then I would up and go
But here I am and here we go again
Tell me what to do to take away the you?

And if I was stronger then I would tell you no.
And if I was stronger then I will leave this show
And if I was stronger then I would up and go
But here I am and here we go again


Of course I would never admit this publicly. Oops, kinda just did. But you know what I mean. Not everyone sees this so think of yourself as a very special follower that knows how songs make me feel, how they help me realize how I'm truly feeling or sum up how I'm feeling, and prove that I live vicariously through song lyrics...often.

Added note...

The recently-written post, that I will call the T-Swift post, is not entirely about one of my best friends Bubba. The second half after the sidenote is a different topic that I feel is similar to the blog title (in a sense, if you try to think about it deeply ha). And it is probably a majority of the reason why I'm in a blah mood. Tomorrow is a new day? Let's hope so.

I know people change and these things happen//But I remember how it was back then...

Can't help but jam to T-Swift's new album "Speak Now." I only heard the whole thing today while I've been in the library slowly but surely getting work done.

I've been stricken with this blah mood lately. I thought it was because a majority of my social circle was at the DMB concert last night (the 2nd night, because I was at the 1st) at MSG while I was left at home alone. I had the option of partying at my friend's house but part of me just wasn't in the mood and I really don't know why. I figured I could clear my head on my morning run earlier. But it's the evening now and I'm still blue. Listening to T-Swift is great but not good. I've always said her lyrics speak to me and could easily relate to my life and all of its..."fuckness" (I believe Snookie coined this term on Jersey Shore).

When I was listening to "If This Was a Movie", the two lines that entitle this post stuck out to me.

Love ya Bub

Last night I had dinner with one of my best friends who I spent a lot of time with last fall before leaving for study abroad. We spent a lot of time together, lived in the same apartment complex, and were basically attached at the hip. She lives in a different house, a distant walk from my own place. So for convenience's sake, when I'm around campus I try to stop by when I can to see her among my other friends who live there. Who I was so used to seeing a lot of in the past. Maybe it was because I was closer to campus. Maybe it was because I wasn't swamped with more work than the President (an exaggeration but I think you can relate) like I am now. Maybe because in general, our lives last year were very different. I'm not saying anything has changed with said friend but last night was the first time that we were able to sit down for more than ten minutes (or see each other in the library doing work) and talk. Catch up. And kinda bring up old stories about hey days we put on hold now until the storm of college work dies down. I'm sure we'll get back into the swing of things when it comes to acting ridiculous once we catch up to the semester that is quickly approaching its end.

I get into these moods where I still think I'm stuck in Australia. I wish (pretty much every other day) I were back there with the same group of shenanigans I studied with last semester. Fortunately, I am not the only one going through Aussie withdrawals. And  luckily, we're still able to communicate and keep in touch the best we can with each other despite our busy schedules and friends from our home universities we left behind for four and a half months. I know its already November and I should be moving forward rather than spiral back into the sad hole but its hard sometimes especially when I look back on the most amazing experience of my life thus far. That's the only excuse I can really make for myself. Not only do I miss how things used to be before I left for Oz, but I also crave the great times I also had in that beautiful country. Double whammy of fuckness/sadness.

SIDENOTE
I just wanna note how I've ran the dishwasher more than an two hours ago and it's still running. Jeez. I also hear a lot of noise from outside my bedroom door that is currently closed. I'm home alone too. Maybe its our neighbor's 3-year old running through their house below us. Gotta love duplexes...duplexi...duplexum. Idk.

I briefly talked to my fellow blogger biddy Red and we kinda both vented to each other about our lives and the current pile of shit they're under. Granted, the best medicine we could give each other (despite the distance) are some solid words of wisdom and the frequented "I miss you"s.

I complained to her how the constant reminder of my being single is getting to me. The invisible "QUARANTINED" stamp on my forehead is really affecting my love life...actually, my like life for that matter, considering I develop little crushes that blow up into balloons then pop once I hear something I wish I didn't hear or see about them. I also have a tendency to fall for people who are a) uninterested, b) unavailable or c) oblivious. But mostly its a). I then get into these blah moods, re-evaluate some of my actions that I could have prevented if I knew it was too good to be true in the first place, then push away (at the same time finding it hard to when I know they're still around).

I live in this fantasy bubble at times and when reality slaps me in the face, the only place to go is back to the start (where I don't even get to collect $200 like in Monopoly). I told Red, "I just want something uncomplicated. Not necessarily a relationship but something...routine I suppose" (I forgot to mention how I wouldn't mind if the said routine would eventually turn into a relationship if we were both okay with it). She replied: "I feel like you have to wade through complicated to get to uncomplicated though. Nobody can go from nothing to regular/relationship/uncomplicated immediately."

And she's right.

Life is never a box of chocolates and the things that we want we won't get instantly. Our dreams and fantasies of our ideal life are not as easy to make a reality as it seems in movies.

• Things fall apart before they come together.
• Everything happens for a reason.
• Things happen when you  least expect it.

These are some things I try to remind myself when I'm in a mood similar to the one I am in now. As Taylor says in "Ours":

So don't you worry your pretty little mind,
People throw rocks at things that shine
and life makes love like look hard*
*my added touch. Remember, I have a like life, not a love life ;)

Silly, old bear :)

My facebook minifeed has an assortment of random posts that I ocassionally look through. Okay, that's a lie, I scroll down as far as I can and take a look at clips or videos that are posted. I saw that a friend posted a movie trailer on another friend's wall. It was for a new Disney movie coming out. Now, I don't particularly enjoy Disney as much as I did (lie again, I loved Up! Granted, it was a Disney/Pixar collaboration but hey, it still counts) when I was a tater tot but this one was so cute: Winnie the Pooh. Yes, a new Pooh & fwiends story. I almost started to cry when I watched the trailer. Maybe it was because Keane's "Somewhere Only We Know" was the theme song in the background. Oh ma ga, it was so presh! TEAR big time.

View the trailer here! http://www.imdb.com/video/imdb/vi1431542041/
This summer is gonna be as sweet as honey ;)

Ants marched and it was grand.

After a long hiatus of doing anything but updating my followers (apologies), I'm back...sorta. Just came back from a Sunday morning run outside. Love it when the leaves fall. Don't love it when my shins start bothering me as Prodigy's "Smack My Bitch Up" plays on my running playlist.

Last Friday night, I scored last minute tickets to the sold out Dave Matthews Band concert at Madison Square Garden. Yeah, how would ANYONE have something more important that they had to sell their tickets to Dave? I was so fortunate to have had a friend who had two tickets he had to get rid of, considering I didn't get to see him over the summer and this would be his last year touring for a while. My friend Chipmunk bought the other ticket and we would both be sitting with my friend McKeon (my male blogger friend and rowing teammate) and Michelle (my former coxswain & McKeon's guuurrrlfran). M&M aww how cahuuute. Chipmunk was a fun concert-going pal to come with and she was equally as excited as I was. She told us of this awesome place in Penn Station (which I had no idea is directly below MSG) called Rose's. A quaint pizza parlor with lots of space as well as an array of different beers on tap. They put them in these large, plastic 7-11esque big gulp cups with covers and straws. An adult-sized fun cup.


Chipmunk & I @ Rose's with our big cups before DMB

 We sat in a section away from our other friend Tori and Andrew who also came. In the beginning, Dave played a few songs from his last album "Big Whiskey and the GrooGrux King." Full setlist from show here: http://road.davematthewsband.com/SetlistsDir/setlist.asp

When "Crash Into Me" came on, Chipmunk and I jimped like no other. But I must say the icing on the cake was "Lie In Our Graves" with an epic solo by violinist Boyd Tinley. Ahhh. I was hoping for "American Baby" but he never really plays that at concerts according to Frump. "Grey Street" and "You & Me" were also played, some of the usual tunes he plays often. Encore consisted of "Dive In" (presh) & "All Along the Watchtower" (which had this calm-before-the-storm feel to it, like bursts of lightning in between). All in all, he played a lot of upbeat songs this time. I remember when I went to see him at Hershey Park in Pennsylvania (3 summers ago) & at Alpine Valley in Wisconsin (2 summers ago with the biffle nug) he played a lot of chill, slow ones. But this was by far an awesome show. So upbeat and by the smell of weed all around me I'm sure the thousands of people who showed up were enjoying it too.

Not the best quality but its compliments of my Blackberry

Some vids people filmed from the show via YouTube: "All Along the Watchtower", "Crash" (presh), "Warehouse"

Couldn't find "Lie in our Graves" with the epic B.T. solo. A song I wish he played but will have to wait for next time he tours: "American Baby"

Amazing concert as usual DMB :)

"Don't all these angles make me look dynamic?"

I am still drunk and since my iPod Kramer was uber low on battery, I'm writing while I wait for him to charge. Yes, I tend to go on runs the next day after a night of mayhem. There's something about running while drunk that sobers me up a bit. And makes me feel less guilty about the vast consumption of fun juice I had the night prior. Here, here!

I woke up next to a box of chocolate chip cookies. I found one of the chocolate chips in my bed and I'm surprised my fat ass didn't melt it into the sheets. I ate it regardless.

I think the title came to mind considering my monthly visitor, Aunt Flow stumbled outta nowhere yesterday...at practice...before my night class. Luckily, I come prepared wherever I go. But when I got home, I remember being super excited to try the new tampons I bought: U by Kotex. Reason being because the company makes those funny ass commercials about periods and tampons. I know this sounds gross that I'm even speaking about tampons and my Aunt Flow and just feminine products in general (I do have male followers, and guys, I'm sorry).

Please watch these commercials and tell me they're a great way to advertise feminie hygeine in this day and age.

"You can relate to me because I am racially ambiguous"
"I like to twirl...maybe in slow motion"

Marketing greatness? Umm yah.

I don't know why I'm ranting and raving about these things. I haven't even had my friend for a full 24 hours to even say if they work or not. Oh well, I'm sure other tampon brands "wish they could be" U by Kotex. They're the only brand that pokes fun at something that people are too embarassed to talk about.

how cahuuute?

Raccoon syndrome.

I don't know if that really exists but in other words, I'm broke as fuck. I picture a raccoon scraping at the bottom of trash cans to find food. And once they find it, they scurry away like the little rat nuggets they are. And they laugh too. Then go to the next trashcan and do it again.

Rahaha nom nom nom nom nom I has food!

I really don't wanna be a raccoon. But for right now, if people are gonna ask me, "You want the rest of my sandwich?" then by all means hand it over*
*then again, I never hesitate free giveaways especially when its food. I'm a human compost. I will eat your things. 

Of course there are things I wanna get: a tragis piercing, a new tat, wine to keep me tolerable when surrounded by others, the occasional coffee on campus on cold, fall mornings, trips to the city, clothes, etc. But I currently don't have the means to buy those things considering I also have bills to pay - Oh, hello, credit card, fancy seeing I've overdrawn four dollars on you recently.

I usually go through these stages of lacking certain things until the next paycheck rolls around, which pretty much goes to my electric and cable bills. And gas for the car. And maybe some groceries. Oh, and of course wine.

I realized that I am a financially struggling college student when I was making lunch one day in the kitchen. I'd like to consider myself a pro at making some tasty wraps. I should work on campus with the ladies that make them. But I'm not Hispanic and I'm sure all they'd do is talk shit about me looking like I'm Hispanic and making fun of me all day. I don't want that. Anyways, I usually put the wraps in paper towels because: what's the point of putting a wrap on a plate if its a two-hand food job? A paper towel to wrap it in is so logical. It keeps you from burning your hands (if you decided to put the wrap in a pan to heat up and have the luscious, cheesy goodness melt inside (oh ma ga, I'm jimping already) and if anything falls out of the other end of the wrap, a paper towel is there to catch it.

That day I noticed the paper towel holder thingy in our kitchen was empty. I looked in the cabinets for any paper towels. There were none. So I looked for anything remotely resembling a paper product that would do the same job as a paper towel. I saw some coffee filters. I stared at them for about 10 seconds before reaching for one and using it...effectively. That's when this brush of hobo-ness came over me. It's my last year of college and I'm using coffee filters as napkins/paper towels. I even used a few for breakfast one time. English muffins are the perfect size for these spiffy filters.

We have paper towels now. And I get paid on Friday. Unfortunately, we owe two months worth of electricity. And I need to fill my car up with gas. And the cable bill came in last night. Hmmm...I may consider egg donating...again.