BFTSOBWUI

...Yeah, bet you can't figure that one out! Haha actually you totally can. You, yes I'm talking to you. No no, not you, you. Wait, I guess I was just talking to you, I mean, having addressed you directly and all to tell you that I'm not talking to you.

Once upon a time Mary had a little lamb whose fleece was white as snow. Actually, she had the lamb of God, who contained both a shroud and a soul that were supposedly all white. (Though probably not all the time, what with dirt and the rough adolescent years and the sex. But hey, sex isn't a pagan sin, so it probably wasn't a sin back then either.) Yes, I totally just came up with that. Wow, I'm probably still so far behind.

Actually wait, I think I came up with that like 5 years ago and forgot, oh well.

Anyway, So do you want to hear about my life or not? No? Fuck you! I wasn't even talking to you in the first place! You do though don't ya? Yeah I knew it, you...OK. (It's funny of course that I was just talking about a little lamb, which is synonomous with the word Ewe and homophonic with both you and you.)

So today I found the coolest thing to do this summer ever (assuming it doesn't turn out to suck), then I ran errands and got my kickass new artsy sneakers (%5 of the profits went to some poor kid with malaria! Awesome! That's a whole like, $2! Go Corporate Converse! They're so self righteous about it too. The box was totally flaunting the chairty thing....How much did you pay the designer to come up with the funky look anyway? and add a bag and fancy metal studs? The box even said that it "deserved the chance to hold another pair of Converse. Recycle" Ha! So being cocky about your noble interests is one thing but that's just over the top, not that I can blame them for praising some pretty awesome shoes. But still.), then I bought books, and I was deeply scared by my orgo chem workbook. I openened it and though I knew I would someday deeply understand the scores of interlocked benzene rings before me there then came only a rush of deep, nervous panic. What the fuck had I gotten myself into? Anyway, long story short then I napped and talked to the parentals and had fantasticful mexican food for dinner, while I pwned a round of 20 (but no real limit) Questions with the answer "is it that guy who was with that girl with the thick eyebrows? Yes!" (Diego Rivera apparently...just demonstrating my kick ass knowledge of Art History and random details in Time Magazine) The rest of my day was good , involving pranks and Pink Floyd and sex novels and other things I don't want to waste space on.

Back to the Article in Time magazine. It was about Love, chemical aspects, developmental aspects, statistics, darwinistic approach, etc. Essentially came to the conclusion that even if we could scientifically figure out the exact details of love, we wouldn't want to believe it, and would always want to beleive in something special, destined and drawn by powers above us. Honestly, I thought it was a pretty crappy article. I mean, yeah I do a shitload of self analysis but I'm not that special, but I already guessed like everything in that article, they just backed it up with fancy names for areas of the brain and statistics. Hell even a Britney Spears song I once heard offered up essentially the same pieces of information as a section. Perhaps that goes to show that when one takes the time to analyze scientifically human emotions, etc. The science starts to fudge over into the humanities. In fact, come to think of it, the Humanities are just a really large chunk of science. I mean, they all seek to further understand the human experience by means of describing it. While science seeks to understand the human experience by drawing conclusions from numbers and observations, the Humanities are simply these observations, but beautifully elaborated. They can describe chains of events in humans like the path of energy flow during a chemical reaction. So really English (the main Humanity) just falls under the category of deeply detailed Sociology and Pyschology with a little History (the other Humanity) on the side, except there's so fucking much of it it managed to get its own major.

OSK mentioned song lyrics about being sick of being in love, and I get that. I wonder if there are any song lyrics about the frustration of not being in fucking love at all. (Come to think of it there
are and I probably own like half of them.) I shouldn't say that though, it's far harsher sounding than the truth. God I'm a bitch sometimes. I love my walls. What? Yeah, of course I sorta mean that too, you pervy english prodigy reading this. It pays to be picky for just that reason. Wait, that's you spouting ideas? I thought I lost you ages ago! Oh so now you care to listen, hmph. Well guess what? maybe I don't think you deserve to hear what I have to say after the way you treated me 3 paragraphs ago. Goodnight.


Sorry, you, we'll just have to find another time.

The Dolphin's Cry?

So My roomate has just informed me about her hypersensitivity theory- that when you're high you have "hypersensitivity"- the ability to see people for who they really are. If this is true then we've learned two things: 1. My true persona is based on my not giving a shit about society's judgements and 2. I really need to start smoking more to attain said wisdom. Anyway, you know, it's a funny thing: beer. It either tastes fantastic and refreshing or it tastes like shit, and half the time this doesn't even depend on what kind of beer you're drinking.

Back on the topic of attaining wisdom. My general (soberly devopled but hopefully just as clever) theory is that people will spend the rest of their lives trying to relearn everything they were taught in kindergarten- you know, be nice to people, share, find inner peace and joy in life without being greedy and obnoxious, enjoy the now as a child does, be zen. I feel that I used to be far more in touch with this wisdom, my inner child too. Nowadays, it seems I could use a little more wisdom at every turn (though perhaps I'm less self-assured and not less savvy?) What should I do this summer? No fucking idea. How can I best find enjoyment in life, and feel less ennui and wafting lonliness? Should I go out in search of the next "big chunk" or has it been right here all this time? What should I focus on? Again and again, blank. Mmm...smells like adulthood. It's a pity when you think about it really- you only get one today, only one year this age, no redos. Before you know it, you're gonna be six feet under, and those short 70 odd years of singularities divided into several general chunks were all you had to define your entire life. Just one of each.

But why do people really want answers? People want the future read and cheat on tests because they're afraid of taking risks, and they want to maximize the best possible outcome for themselves without having to deal with harsh consequences of illy-informed decisions. The truth is, no matter what grade you get in the end, everyone knows the kid that really knows the material better is the one that did the reading and studied, and didn't just cram an hour before while peeking over as many shoulders as they could. Does all that knowledge really come in useful in the end? Again, fuck if I know. But hey, I guess it can't hurt. (And everyone knows the former feels so much more satisfying.)

"Ask no guarantees, ask for no security, there never was such an animal. And if there were, it would be related to the great sloth which hangs upside down in a tree all day every day, sleeping its life away. To hell with that ... shake the tree and knock the great sloth down on his ass."- Ray Bradbury

Yeah, that's the spirit. Damn, Juicy, have more balls, what's happenning to you anyway? You know it's all about the experiences, you have no need to fret. Or maybe life is best lived like the crappy door to my room that keeps sticking: In order to open it, you have to push and pull at the exact same time. Some guarantees and cheat sheets are OK, so long as they don't exceed the amount of effort you're really putting into opening the door.

I know this much: This is the awkward stage, as it should be. I always question that which comes to quickly, and it has never failed me. Embrace the perspective, it will make the future that much more sweet and intruiguing. Yeah, I sound pretty trippy right now, but hey at least I'm not calling people up at 4am to talk about breaking down emotional walls Pink Floyd style. (Not that I didn't enjoy it. Epic? Arguably.)

God, I Am Such A Whore For Nostalgia and Friendships...

There's something reassuring and pleasantly sound about waking up somewhere you've woken up countless times before, no matter how long ago the last time was. The other day I slept over with my best friend in 1st grade, whose house was essentially my weekend residence for the majority of grade school. We've since been out of touch, of course, having totally different circles in junior high and me going off to "the evil conformist prep school," but somehow despite our growing apart she has remained a fantastic friend and conversationalist. Of all my friends she is also the least likely to look like one of my usual friends too- Uggs, Coach bag, you get the idea, but it only makes the relationship more intruiguing. As is the case with another friend I once blogged about, we are no longer "joined at the hip" the way we were as kids, but I'm starting to think that that's more a product of age than detatchment. (Silly kids, why do they get all the fun?) Anyway, I guess it's nice to know that no matter how far away you get from a place, there's always a small way back. It won't be the same place you were before, but you can still approach it, and get just close enough to at least remember how nice it was.

A similar phenomenon happenned this week with the local diner. Twice, I found myself with different company but in the exact same booth, in the same diner that has been in my town for as long as I can remember. It's such a diner too- Greek, probably owned by immigrants, bright neon lights on mirrored surfaces remenant of the Art Deco of the 1980's, a counter for coffee, booths with cheap cut glass dividers. We used to go there after church all the time before my dad decided he liked to cook. Now I guess it's a popular hang out spot for my would-have-been classmates, or at least it provides food 24/7, which is always good. It's not that nothing's changed about the rest of our lives, God no, but the diner is still there, and ergo, so is one of the epitomes of my hometown.*

On the topic of friendships, another thing has been on my mind recently. What is it about the number four? With Friends being the only exception I can think of, it seems every sitcom based on the metropolitan lives of 20 or 30 somethings contains exactly four main characters: Four most tightly bound friends who live in the same vicinity and around whom the plot of the show revolves. Think: Sex and the City, Seinfeld, Will and Grace, Big Shots, Cashmere Mafia, Frasier (sorta), and countless others. Even my friend from the first paragraph proclaimed herself to be part of a foursome. While I highly doubt that life actually imitates art (or in this case, an over-used albeit sucessful sitcom plot formula) as time goes on and I approach this dream age myself with an ever growing pool of old and new relationships, I can't help but wonder who will make it to my "final four" (or I guess 3 if I'm one of em, whatever number it turns out to be) in life: The true buddies one eternally hangs out with in the last days of the prime of friendship, before marriage takes over, and before one sees the shadow cast on youthful living by a large white dress, even if it is a beautiful one.

But until then perhaps that could be a reality show within itself? Who Will Make It To My Fiinal Four?: Survivor meets real world meets sitcom. haha genius...NOT!!! (Even if I was somehow cool enough to attract that many fifteen-minute friends, I respect no one who follows too far in the footsteps of Tela Tequila)








* Another of these is the mall, which scarred me for life when I saw that Hot Topic had traded in its goth entrance that used to scare me as a young child (black gates with preserved insects in glass) with a peachy white brick exterior and bronze window, but hey, what can you do.

MooLovin

So I was eating today, like most humans do, and I realized just how horribly deprived life would be if Cows didn't exist. I don't think people realize just how critical this fantastic animal is to our daily existance. Think about it: If we did not have cows or any of their bovine relatives (eg. Buffalo) we would not have Beef. If we did not have Beef, we would not have burgers (American classic), beef burritos (Mexican classic), Brownstuff (my mother's own fantastic concoction), most types of chili (Spicy Food Lover classic), chili hot dogs, sloppy joes (Damn Tasty), filet mignion (Haute Cuisine classic), and most types of stew (Winter Classic). Those are easily some of the best, most popular, and most satisfying meals known to man, not to mention the majority of my favorite foods.

Now if for some reason you are under the impression that something cannot contain Beef but still be considered real food (psycho...) we find ourselves lacking another staple food source: Milk. This means no chocolate milk (sad deprived children) and far more importantly, no Cheese. No cheese means no Pizza (Student Classic, plus no job for JV and a starving triangle), fondue (Alpine Skiing Classic), cream cheese (making bagels worthless), cheese and crackers, cheese in a can, any other cheese based snack from kraft (there are hundreds), rather uninteresting pasta and sandwiches, and essentially denies us all italian cooking ever made.

And we owe it all to the Cow...I won't even get started on Leather products and pop culture (Cowboys). Long story short, the Hindus have it right. Yay Cows, you rock!


And now for some lovely photos:


Bovine Pride:



Lovely Sensuous Lady Cows:



And who could forget, Cow Parade!

Now Only Four More Years Until The Apocalypse!

I was going to tell you all about the many ways I plan on improving the quality of my existence in 2008, but I doubt that would make for too fascinating reading material. (Not to mention the list itself has not solidified yet. There's something very unsatisfying about trying to scribe a life-changing document on a post-it note, which is all I have available at the moment.) I can however, guarantee you that this list will be put into effect. Though I do not think I have ever really kept any of my resolutions ever in life, hopefully the lingering feelng that I have essentially wasted an entire semester as well as a few precious months of my youth will give me the kick in the ass I need to live a more meaningful life. Note that this time I don't care how this relates to "productivity" per se, so long as I can find greater meaning an enjoyment in life instead of ennui.

Is it bad If I can only visualize things to/enjoy classical music if it was on Fantasia?

So anyway, I'm going to talk about something else that's been on my mind alot latley, and could possibly be considered relevant- this summmer. After all, it is the summer of '08. I know for a fact that this summer is going to be awesome, I just havent quite figured out how it will go about it yet. This is not, however, for lack of options. Sure, my dad giving me $2,500 bill come next september is not the most prime of situations, but I can make the best of it. (And the same goes for him being under the false assumption that he can still control my life as he has done in summers past)

Option A: Spend half the week in Sim town doing tech for OSK's play and practicing in hypothetical band, the other half working one or two jobs (one of which would be bartending- my dream summer profession that I am now legal for!) at home to pay for my car insurance. (but hey, at least I'll have a car) When the play ends, continue to work at home and hang out both with the triangle and old time friends. Perhaps travel with former roomate.

Advantages: deep triangualar bonding, being in a band (!), doing fun techwork, not at home for at least half the week.

Disadvantages: finding living arrangements in Sim town (after a certain point I'd really owe parents a little rent, it's rude to stay too long, plus things could get awkward if me or someone hosting me finds themself amidst a summer fling...though perhaps not) Also, as much fun as it is to hang with said geometric shape, could I really stand life in a never ending trek marathon? I'd like to say so, but we don't really know...Or perhaps weekdays are generally uneventful?

Option B: even though this idea was thought to have died due to lack of funding, it's back with a new twist. According to the parentals, hotels (especailly desperate Nantucket ones) are some times willing to offer lodging to their workers. (though I'm not sure if this applies to just chambermaids or waitresses or what) the point is, it is now possible to move out and get a guaranteed job without having to worry about paying rent, and actually make money. Also, so long as one can afford a plane ticket, the continental US and Canada may not limit our options. In the past, I have heard, friends have gotten jobs together and also lived together while working for hotels, and spending leisure time in whatever vacation spot they have chosen. This would last for the majority of the summer, though perhaps take a week off to travel with former roomate if possible.

Advantages: fleeing the effing nest already, could possibly be great to live in a vacation hot spot, did I mention fleeing the effing nest and no more being told what I can't do?

Disadvantages: the friends I choose to go with (if I can recruit them, that's another issue. I'd need serious canidates) are the friends I would be seeing all summer, and no one else. Given their ages, Koops and OSK are also immidiately out of the question (tear).


Any thoughts?

Beach Blogging

Thank god I have internet this vacation. I can't imagine how I once survived for a whole fortnight without the joys of facebook and the blogosphere to keep me amused in between hour stretches of extensive nothingness (albeit the best kind). But things are different this vacation, different in a way that makes me wonder how long it will be before I simply opt out all together and just spend New Years at home freezing cold but happy in the company of friends.

Where am I exactly? I'm on the quaint, somewhat agrarian little Island of St. Croix in the USVI (This is fortunate, because I left my passport at college. Thank god for my Card Of Shame) where my grandpa owns a condoe in a nice little complex on the beach. It is on this beach that there resides a beach shack, and this is where our tales often begin.

But dear Bobby (canadian man who owns the place, bitchy and fabulous in the best way, actually witnessed Studio 54 in the 70s!) passed away over the course of last year. My bartender buddy JJ (great to talk to, grew up in Saudi Arabia, speaks funny possibly from all the drugs he used to do) has been MIA for at least 4 years, perhaps learning to be a gunsmith on the mainland. The cook Dawn (former hippy, always wears tie-dye greatful dead shirts and pigtails) was also nowhere to be seen today, but there is still hope for tomorrow. The shack was still open, run by some other people we know at the complex, but I doubt I will ever again spend my afternoon hours bonding with the shack crew.

This leaves me with Maggie. We apparently used to play together in the pool as toddlers, but I have no recollection of this. I do however, remember that the first time we re-met as pokemon obsessed 5th graders, we insisted on spending every moment together and actually cried when we had to part. Each year since (excluding last and maybe one or two others) we have remet again, and it's always been an interesting progression. The first year she was a hardcore tomboy, and we both just hung out obsessivley and played gameboy and pretend games on the beach. A year or two later she had opened up a bit more to skirts and purses, looked down on video games, and enjoyed talking to trees (spiritually) and running barefoot in the woods even in winter. Another year or two, her parents had seperated, and her mom had come out of the closet. The last time I saw her two years ago, she gave me a mind opening talk about gender expression v. gender, hinted at being bisexual, and stopped shaving. Today we picked up just about where we left off: sitting under a tree debating the real v. mythological nature of the female vaginal orgasm.


But once the catching up was done and the intellectual conversation lost its cause, I wondered exactly how far we had come from our inseperability of five plus years ago. Though we still both seem to genuinely enjoy the others companionship, even if it's simply for walking on the beach or reading, things may well never be the same again. When we first re-met in 5th grade, our lives seemed to run parallel to each others, making the thread that bound them even stronger and many times closely wound. But now we've both branched off and developped in about 10 different directions, and like I said, we will probably never be as close. I've seen this happen to many of my friends over the years: some things never change, some do. Reunions are always welcome and great fun, but unlike our early gradeschool friendships- we are no longer bound at the hip and have become all too seperable. And with what little wisdom I've acquired over the years I can't help but wonder- Will this happen to the friends I have now?

It's a scary thought: Only seeing those I now consider as part of my extended family only once or twice a year for a brief catch up session over coffee. I'm sure I'll have made new friends, but to think that years of quality times and deep bonding could be reduced to that. It's almost sad.


But until then I do have some good news to speak of. When Maggie has left in two days I will simply spend more time doing what I did this afternoon, and what the tropical vacation was truly engineered for: getting drunk on the beach. (shout outs to the beautiful sign at the beach shack telling anyone under 18 they cannot consume alcoholic beverages) And when that gets old, well, I guess I'll see you back home in the snow next New Years, and we better not just be catching up over coffee.

Notes from the Head of the Kids' Table

...Well, actually, I ended up ceding the space of honor to a small blonde girl who wanted to sit next to my cousin, but you get the idea. I didn't actually mind sitting at the kids' table- what with the 8 year olds and their burp jokes, it's not so bad. And then of course on the way home my Dad starts talking about how he looks forward to spending holidays with my future family, but the past three hours of familial chaos have almost fully convinced me to never, ever reproduce. Christmas morning was lovely too, in the traditional manner. I got up on time (according to me) but late (according to my mom). My dad came early so I didn't get to open any of my presents. Instead, I was in the bitchiest mood ever and ended up shouting at him because he didn't tell me he was coming early and generally never gives me any respect in life. At first he tried to dodge my aggressive blows with "C'mon, Juicy, It's Christmas!" to which I responded several times "I Don't Care!" And I gotta say, I really didn't.

Maybe it's because the joy of Christmas is half in the hype, and I got home one day before Christmas and one day after crazy finals week. Maybe it's because I now sadly lack the childish imagination to really get into the holiday spirit. Maybe it's because I find it hard to see anything beyond a huge commercialistic enterprise. Maybe it's because I didn't get to open my presents. Maybe because after years of thinking something unusually good might happenn just because it's Christmas, and after nothing particularly fantastic ever occurring except for the odd good gift, I've just given up all together. (And yes, I tried watching Love Actually, and not even that did it.) What did I do on Christmas Eve? I went to a nursing home and ate my aunt's cooking with my other aunt. (who can barely talk but when asked about politics can magically and unmistakenly yell "Giuliani!") I then came home and bitched about my family online with OSK. (one big thing to look forward to in maturity: spending Christmas Eve with friends) Yup, Happy Holidays. I think I am now an official Fesitvus convert- I simply see no reason to celebrate Christmas, nor derive any deep joy from doing so except for opening presents. Is it best, then, that I stop celebrating it all together?

And here's another thing: on Christmas Eve and on the Day I had some wine to attempt to get myself feeling a bit more cheery, and I gotta say, for the first time, I actually genuinley liked it.

Let's Talk About Sex: Part II

I should really talk about finals, and pass on the lessons I've learned to you younger folks about pretty much everything not to do the week you have final exams, (eg: rediscover that you and OSK share a great skill for talking on the phone, and do this for 3 hours until your cell battery dies in lieu of studying for chemistry, or invert your sleep cycle, or leave off a paper so late you spent all your finals time writing that instead of studying, or realizing, once you've turned in said paper, that you forgot about another entire page of lecture notes, the double sided one observing the middle chunk of the lecture.)

But let's talk about something else in this short BFTSONDW (see my recent comments)

Let's talk about the state of my life at the moment, particularly, my affairs with the opposite sex. For starters, I think it can now officially be said that I have a bump buddy/fuck buddy/ bitch. I'm not entirely sure how I feel about this. Secondly, despite being massivley inexperienced (though since I'm a girl we can put a euphemistic spin on that and call it "virginal and innocent") I still find myself fighting the skepticism that I have developed throughout my entire life. infact, the more I see of the dating world, the more I find myself dissillusioned (not that I ever really was "illusioned") and deterred by the massive amount of Bullshit it entails. I've always had an incredibly low tolerance for bullshit, So I guess me and dating don't mix. I guess we'll find out at some point in the next few years, and if we don't, well at least I'll have really, really good chemistry grades. Here's an example of said bullshit:

Guy that wants to get with Juicy: oh I know that girl, she's wierd
Juicy: oh yeah I know her too! she's like one of my best friends!
Guy: Oh yeah well like, she's cool...

Seriously. it's funny how much stuff you can magically find in common with someone when they want to feel you up. Can anyone be trusted, then? who knows. My mom (who I find myself continually shouting out as I get older and more cynical) once told me that a guy will say anything to get laid. Point apparently proven. She also once told me (due to sortof awkward circumstances involving a family friends wife leaving him that I'm sorry she had ot endure come to think of it) that guys have needs, and not to feel special just because you are in a conveniant location to fullfill them. Enter drunken college social life- yup, also true. Now let's add to this area of intensely concentrated cynicism in which I was raised a divorce, a shaky relationship with my dad, experience with boys from like 1st-3rd grade that would scare me for the rest of my life (don't ask), and a general lack of trust in all people. Result: I think I have issues showing emotion. Like, real emotion. You know those extra nice girls that can just run around and hug everyone and become BFFles after like five minutes? I appreciate them and all, they're nice and make good ice breakers, but at first they always make me feel like such an isolationist dork because I could just never be that comfortable around so many people after five minutes to the point where I'm hugging them. The same goes with the flirts. You know, those girls that, if watching a movie or doing some other sort of relaxed activity, will immidiately attach themselves to the (most attractive, if its a plural) guy present and insist they cuddle/walk arm in arm/hold hands, or something like that. Like seriously, I'm not sure whether to oggle their smooth flirtational skills (which I lack, if you haven't noticed based on like, this entire entry) or just laugh at their desperation/need to maximize contact with the opposite sex. Either way- I still feel more isolationist, awkward, and dysfunctional.

Now, despite the previous paragraph and previous logic (which held that I might have a few scarce relationships, and then either marry or die alone with my 9 cats), I have still managed to accumulate a fuck buddy, a short list of admirerers, and a professed romantic Interest. You would think that given the previous paragraph, I should consider myself lucky to have this fuck buddy, list of admireres, and especially the professed romantic interest, and return the favor. But as life goes on and finals get even more stressful, I find myself incredibly nonchalant about this enitre situation. How is it that after attending a women's college for an entire semester, I still feel there is an excess of uncesseary testosterone that pervades my existance? Maybe I have too many close guy friends, or maybe it's just cuz i'm extra ballsy, who knows. I should probably go paint my nails or something, and shave.

I once read about a girl that didn't actually achieve orgasm during sex until years after she started. (Scary thought) I also read somewhere that girls get off easier sometimes when just doing it themselves, or when doing it with each other. (No, my college has not yet turned me the other way) Conclusion of all this: Men- who needs them?


PS- triangle, obviously you are needed, but you do inevitibly add 2 to the penis count (Yes, I just insulted one of you but I can't decide which...) Sorry if this entire article wreaks of TMI, but hey, it's 2am and I have been studying for days straight. I'm feeling pretty wreckless.

WikiLove (also known as "Adderoll Anyone?")

Normally when I feel like wasting time on the internet and avoiding productivity at all costs, my options are clear: facebook, blogosphere, email, and (as a last resort) text twist. Usually these activities expend themselves in about an hour or two, and thus force me into getting started with my workload. That's what I though would happen tonight, when I came to the library at 9 haveing already gotten my need for internet amusement out of my system (or so I thought) and ready to write the paper due four days ago. (Don't worry, the prof doesn't do lateness points, I'm not that much of a nonchalant dumb ass)

Oh, but I was wrong, was I ever. You see, I was in the process of doing legitimate research on Wikipedia regarding the state of the Lebanese government and its relation to Hezbollah (like honestly, I was actually trying to do work!) but then I thought: I have been working awful hard, and the internet is oh so quick and easy, it'll only take a few minutes, and I have always wondered if I could understand the finer points of the Schrödinger equation....

But it didn't stop there. Schrödinger became Schrödinger's cat, became quantum mechanics, became physics, became astrophysics and physical cosmology, became M theory, became Hamiltonian mathematics, became it's been 40 minutes what the fuck am I doing, became Syria, became Hezbollah, became The Cedar Revolution, became Basher Al Assad, became I have enough info now really, so let's take a break and look up...Mario Galaxy, became The Wall, Became The Wall: The Album, became Dazed and Confused, became Slackers, became The Breakfast Club, became The Wall again, the entire plot this time, became my old school, became my hometown, became my highschool, became "this room will be closing in fifteen minutes", became it's 2 am and I still haven't written my paper. WTF?


But if you have any detailed quesitons about any of the fascinating topics listed above, feel free to ask. I might just have found a new hobby.

...And You Bet She Liked It!

Yes ladies and gentlemen, in the spirit of the great miracles of Hanukkah, I got a B+ on my math midterm. I have no idea how that happened. She must've done the math wrong (not that that's her specialty or anything...) but hey, I'm happy. Perhaps this great miracle was meant to replace that of Hair Hanukkah, because I have been forced to switch shampoos (Color Treated!!! : D ) but I still have the relic and await to continue its consumption once my dad notices the slight coloring, and combines it with poor grades to deduce that I am turning into a hippy bum.

But Here's the major thing on my mind at the moment: Do you want to hear a secret? Of course you do, why else would you be reading my blog if you weren't interested in all the Juicy details of life I have to offer. So here it is: Do you know what my favorite thing to do is? I like to lie on my bed, anytime of day will do, close my eyes, cover them up, get comfortable, maybe loosen up some clothing....and do nothing. I am dead serious. Maybe this is embarassing, but one of my favorite things to do is absolutley nothing. I relish in it. If I don't actually have anything to do and am not just procrastinating, that makes it even better. During summer, I will do this for at least 2 hours every day, or any time I'm left undisturbed and feeling especially uninspired. If I have time on weekends, I will wake up, then lie in bed for an hour or so doing exactly this.

Now, as you can see, my (really lame, I am totally aware of this) favorite activity doesn't really take much effort, and is made available to me anytime I am in proximity to my bed. (which is very often when you go to boarding school or live at college) If anything, it only goes to show you that despite the ocassional over-achieving tendency, I am probabaly one of the laziest people I know. But here is my concern- usually, I will only do this once or twice a day, and for no longer than an hour or 30 minutes depending on how much time I can devote to it. But recently, I feel like it is all I do. It's most definitley not for lack of other things to do though, in fact if anything, it's more like the opposite. I have so much to do but I am so internally opposed to being productive (lord knows why) and so ingrained with apathy that all I want to do is perform the great escapism of doing absolutley nothing. This, along with the incurable and dangerous apathy that has been coalescing my existence for the past few weeks, is what deeply concerns me. I am finding it hard to really care about anything with the exception of talking to friends, music, and blogging. I am probably going to fail one of my classes, but I have accepted this. I am going to get late points taken off on my HW, but I have accepted this. My room is disgusting and needs serious cleaning, but I don't care to do anything about it. I probably should update my senate board, but I haven't, and I don't care. I haven't gone to classes in over a week and they end tomorrow. Hmm.

Now I recently read JV's post about just the opposite- finding something to do so as to avoid doing just this at all costs, and I've definitley been there. Infact, I've been there every night or so for the past week (in that position, not at JV's...) but once the day rolls around, forget it. I'm an apathetic log. Should this concern me?

Oh Yeah, Well I Used The Convergence Test on Your Mom... Last Night!

Ok, I know there have been many times in my life when I have proved the chunky, yet fluid nature of my intelligence. By that I mean sometimes it's really there, and sometimes it's really, really not. I can normally tell it's not there, because it's when my Madre gives me a look as if to say (or just blatantly says) "You take advanced classes and get such better grades than I did, but do you actually have any common sense whatsoever?" Instances of this include: me lacking any sense of direction and still not knowing how to get to places I've been millions of times, cleaning by essentially relocating dirt, and running into those big concrete pillars in the mall that some silly architect thought it would be beneficial to put right in the middle of the hallway. (Seriously- who does that? And especially when everyone knows the mall was half made for socializing. I firmly uphold that people should be able to talk to their friends without the perpetual fear of being rendered unconcious by a stone pillar that could just as easily have been put somewhere else.)

I'm not really sure if today was one of those days- but it definitley feels like one. After pulling an all nighter (a sucessful one this time, I might add) to study to finer points of series, infinite sums, and power series (really cool stuff, by the way) I go to take the math midterm I forgot I had, not only to muddle up the most basic method of determining convergence, but also confusing it with the divergence test, and referring to it as that the entire time. (If you don't know what I'm talking about, ask koops, he's probably wiki'd it already). Luckily I realized I had no idea what to do, and used probablity to answer accordingly, but we can still safely say I'll be lucky if I passed. The worst bit is- if I hadn't confused this incredibly simple principle, it really would have been the easiest exam we've had yet by far. And now if I don't get an A on the final, then I quite possibly just threw away an A in the easiest class I've had all semester.

I shant continue to bore you with the details of my academic life, or how, like an infinite series with partial sums that continue to increase (which apparently means, I should probably now add, that it might infact still converge) it seems to be diverging off into the world of infinitley bad. But since I already feel like enough of a * in that regard, lets look at a few other thoughts on my mind, and maybe I can reap what few infintesimally small grains of grey matter I have left, and share them with my devoted (?) readership. I always liked a good English class, so let's make this like a vocab list:

Antimatter- the equivalently massive but oppositley charged particle of every particle in our known universe. Whenever antimatter gets in contact with actual matter, in reacts to form a photon, and then essentially dissapears. For some unknown reason, when our universe was being created, matter had a tendency to be produced far more than antimatter, and so everytime antimatter was created, it dissapeared. But I can't help but wonder- given the proposal made by string theory, that there are many dimensions in existance far beyond our comprehension, in addition to my Madre's Spiritualist New Age babble, could this actually be a scientific definition for heaven? Given that, as I said before, Antimatter will immidiatly react with matter (like, surrounding air for example) to form light, and that in the Bible Jesus in his heavenly form was described as a light so blinding one could barely look it him (in addition to the idea of light that surrounds alot of other spiritual entities) is it possible that he was just presenting himself (albeit at the slight risk of self anniahlation, but hey he's Jesus) in his antimatter form that exists free from matter in the other dimension that is actually the "other side" And what about ghosts? What are they made of? They're supposed to be detectable by disturbances in the electromagnetic field, and isn't light an electro magnetic wave? It makes sense also that their presence in this world would be a weak and futile one, if once they appear in it they need to worry about not quickly reacting away to nothingness.

Big Brother- Orwell long predicted that as time progressed, the government would start peering more and more into our personal lives. But with the advent of reality TV, facebook/my space stalking, and internet blogs/journals, is this really what we want after all? Is it an added sense of security for the author? Or perhaps it's more driven by the masses that are intruiged to read it? Never mind the government, are we becoming Big Brother ourselves?

Cosmeceuticals- (Sp?) A word I heard in an infomercial around 4 or 5 am- clearly demonstrates the direction of society without any further analysis from yours truly.

Eighteen to Drink, Twenty-One to Buy- So the days are long gone when I realistically dream of toasting to the end of the drinking age in America, but this is my proposed compromise: Make it illegal for anyone under 21 to buy alchohol, but not illegal for anyone over 18 (or an even lower age, younger the better) to consume it. You see, if we were to follow the current law (which over 90 percent of the population disobeys anway- isn't that reason enough to reasses the situation?) then people would technically have full access to all the alcohol they wanted at 21 with no actual drinking experience. This, as anyone who remembers their own "first time" knows that this is not a very good thing. By making the age to buy alcohol older than the age required to drink it, the government would ensure that there is most likely someone older and more experienced aware of what is going on, and also ensure that by the time people are old enough to buy for themselves, they will not lose control or go overboard. This would also prevent government money from being spent on frivolous law suits against teenagers and college students, not to mention save college students a shitload of disciplinary trouble which- let's face it- is never actually going to stop college students from drinking in the majority of our country's higher institutions. Plus, our driver's licenses are graduated, why not the drinking age?

Married With Children- My guilty pleasure. It seems that no matter how old or fem-nazish I get, there is something classically good about a "NO MA'AM" (National Organization for Men Against Amazonian Masterhood) or life/wife hating, "Peg, make me a sandwhich" joke at 3 am. True, the majority of the stuff probably flew over my head back when I watched it at the age of 7 (and has probably scarred me for life in ways I really don't even want to think about now) but it's still somehow just as entertaining...go figure.

Roswell- Hmmm....a bunch of short, flat eyed life forms are found dead in a desert on a vehicle with "heiroglyphic style" writing right after WWII let out and the government stopped forcing Asian people into their Japanese "Internment camps"...hmm...yes, definitley Aliens. And it would make perfect sense for the government to try and cover up the existence of extraterrestrial beings too. I mean, essentially all releasing the information would do would be to increase nationalism as a planet/country thus rallying more populist support, and give them another reason to make us feel like we need to depend on them for security. Yup, that would be horrible for them. Like I said, definitley Aliens that the government is trying to cover up.
(If I don't blog for awhile, the unmarked white van came...I'll miss you all)

The Eight Months of Hanukkah

In the spirit of the holiday season upon us, I have decided to recognize a little miracle I take for granted everyday. No, it's not my family, friends, socio-economic status, or good health; it's my shampoo.

You see, back in high school I went to boarding school. This is great if you want to wear skirts and ties everyday, conform, and please "The Man," but a very unfortunate circumstance when you need to procure basic necessities (such as shampoo) and lack a car. Around April or early May of this year, I managed to persuade (and by that I half mean blatantly manipulate, but hey it did him lots of good too) my licensed day student friend (JV) to do my grocery shopping.

It has been about eight months since that excursion. The food has been consumed, the shower poof thing has disintegrated, and I'm pretty sure I went through the body wash and the conditioner. But yes pious followers, even throughout these tough and freakishly extended times, the shampoo still remains. In fact, despite retaining the same cleanly habits as always, I still have over 1/3 of the bottle left. As much as I don't want to jinx this great, cost efficient phenomena, I simply cannot understand it. Never have I known a product that I used so much excess of on such a regular basis to last this long. The only explanation- a miracle: The Miracle of The Hanukkah Shampoo.

Now as in the case of all great, holy relics, even though we cannot understand their miraculous preservation, we can learn from them by letting them remind us of things on a daily basis. Here, the message is clear:...Ok, maybe not so much, unless you count "keep clean hair." But whatever it is, if my math serves me correctly, it is also teaching us something else: that the great spirit of Hair Hanukkah is not limited to its eight months, but quite possibly, a celebration that should be kept in our hearts all year long.

Head Banging Hora anyone?


(While both technical difficulties and religious authorities prevent me from actually photographing the holy relic, here is a quality imitation) :

Journey To El Dorado

I would just like to announce to you al, comrades, that I have infact, found the fountain of Youth. (Well, actually it's more like the fountain of productivity, but it's all about accomplishment and ability in the end, isn't it?)

First, comrades, you must go deep into the caves of mystery (the library basement) and find a quiet, private space inwhich to practice this ritual. When you feel your deep exertions starting to catch up to you, you must take a break and travel. On your quest, you must procure the drink made from the mystical buzz-giving bean (coffee) and consume it. This is to be accompanied by a tasty, sugary snack.

When the caves of mystery nolonger produce their artificial light by which you work, journey back to your place of residence. Here, you will briefly rest your mind and body by means of gossip, in preparation for the long night ahead.

Around 1 am, you must travel again downwards- this time, to El Dorado, also known as the realm of residential relaxation (TV room), and begin to forge that which you designed in the caves of mystery. Here, ladies and gentleman, is the great discovery of our time: Hockey Games and VH1. With such amusing, musical, yet essentially mindless noise being emitted from the box of hypnosis(TV), your mind will not be tempted to wander in the ways it might wish to in the wee hours of the morning. While the plush couch accomadates comfort, you will be immune to your bed's tempting call. When combined with the mystical buzz-bringing bean's more condensed potion of stamina (an energy drink), some great phenomenon in the very essence of this programming will keep you running and focused until the wee hours of the morning. Even when 6 am comes, not once will you have felt the urge to run down the path of cowards into the land of the dormant. Instead, you will be amazed at your own abilities. At 7, a refreshing trip to the warm springs that fall from the ceiling (a shower) will have you energized, purified, and ready for the day to come.

But here comrades, is where even I failed. Alas, I stole too much from the Great Golden City. I was too productive, did too much. Had I finished my work even an hour later, I would not have wondered what to do with these odd two hours before class. I let my eyes rest, I was concious at first, so concious....but No. I failed you comrades, I failed you all. Though I saw with my own eyes the chronological arrival of my intellectual commitments ("The Man") I instead defected to the dark land of the dormant. For this, I am deeply sorry, and only hope you can forgive me, and that you shall have better succes than I in the journeys to come.

Funny Nose People*

Most teenagers and children eagerly await the day that they will smile infront of a digital camera at the DMV (without a hat or dark glasses) and get their inevitably shitty picture taken. But as is often the case, my life has taken an unusual and somewhat dysfunctional twist. Yes ladies and gentleman, as of thanksgiving break, I now own a Non-Drivers Identification Card. (AKA an easy way to spot a loser.)

Now, we have before us a very bittersweet situation if there ever was one. On one hand, I got this card because I turned 18 (and thus, legally became a person) and need to prove this regularly without lugging around my passport, or using my year old highschool student ID. Yay adulthood! On the other hand, it only continues to rub in the fact that after 2 years of practice and procrastination (namely the latter) I STILL CAN'T FUCKING DRIVE! Seriously, if I need to ask my parents for a ride somewhere one more time I might just die of shame. And here's another thing: it looks exactly like a driver's license, so much to the point where I actually temporarily forgot I didn't have one and got exceptionally giddy, only to be reminded I'm just not that cool yet.

If this event was any indication, When I actually get my license I swear to God I will sleep with it on my pillow and cuddle it all night long for at least several days. (By the way, that date has now been pushed up to January)

As for other things going on in my life? Not much to a sad degree. The lack of recent posts is due to my laptop having been swiped clean because it got a virus and my inability to get it back on the network, in addition to a horrendous workload that overnight when from unbeleivably easy to kicking me in the ass. (perhaps this is because I don't go to class, but that's just a guess) In short- I cannot wait for this semester to end. And just when I thought things were already bad: My lover raped me. legitimatley. It was horrible. I would post a picture of it but my webcam is on my laptop which...you know. (not to mention it's a little graphic)

Screw my lover, I need winter break, NOW! And here's another thought on that: The other day I realized that the majority of my favorite Christmas Songs ("and so this is christmas?", "do they know it's christmas time at all?") are sad ones. How does that reflect on my character? I dunno, the other ones I really like either don't really have audible words ("Silver Bells" preferably the electric guitar version) or are cutesy ("All I Want for Christmas Is You"), the latter of which mainly just makes me feel depressed because I don't really want anyone at the moment that much (with one possible exception, but he's Jewish so I guess I don't have to worry about the season.) Also on that parenthetical note- my room has now turned into Hannukah (sp? like anyone can...) land. Thank you my deeply jewish roomate. (Mmmm....latkas)



* what my mom calls what most would refer to as "snowmen" eg- I love those funny nose people!

Untitled

Ever since I stopped taking English classes, it seems that my unused analytical abilities have decided to seep into other areas of my life. As a result, on any given night the margins of my homework assignments are scrawled with the odd poetic observation or life metaphor. A few nights ago, for example, I thought that spilling my coffee over my agenda pad (which caused all the ink to run) could be considered a metaphor for my work ethic junior year (so consumed with caffeine that I was unable to actually function) or any general break down- when what's keeping you going is preventing you from actually "going" anywhere. When I went to use Wite Out in my lab notebook, I thought about how Wite Out related to perfection- when applied it is even more perfectlty white (and incredibly hypnotizing...Wite Out nails anyone?) than the paper it is covering. The fact that it is too good (or in this case, too white) to be true only brings more attention to the fact that it is a phony covering for a blaring error.

More recently, I desperatly needed a study break but had already exhausted all that facebook and the blogosphere had to offer. It was then I decided to revisit an old friend. Yes folks, for the first time in ages, I played TextTwist.

Once I got over the immidiate rush of senior year nostalgia, I let my mind enter the franticly paced yet, in many ways quite monotonous mode required to play this game successfully. (for those of you not in the loop- TextTwist is an online game inwhich you are given a scrambled six letter word and given 2 minutes to rearrange it into every possible other word you can think of, but none shorter than 3 letters) Obviously I was incredibly rusty, but one thing hadn't changed: I almost always got the six letter word first. When it comes to figuring out the dozens of little three letter word combinations I'm hopeless, but I've never had a problem getting the six letter word almost instantaneously. It was then that I realized that the way I play TextTwist actually relates quite well to the way I play life- rarely concerned with details, I look at the bigger picture. I may cause myself a lot of small setbacks, but I never really fret too much, because I know I always get where I need to be in the end. (Though that attitude mixed with the freedom of college academics is probably not the best way to go about things, in case you were wondering. Perhaps I am a little too laid back?)

I don't really have a larger frame inwhich to analyze this (unless I factor in the Nexusyness of getting an out of the blue phone call from the person who introduced me to the game a few days later) or anything further to derive (though I'm sure it exists) But I guess I have learned one other thing: stop illegibly scribbling on your margins and buy a friggen note book.

Crazy Bitch

So today I don't really have any blog worthy thoughts, but I do have the most fantastic story I have heard in ages, made even more fantastic by the fact that it proves that fantastic things like this actually happen:

So my friend was hanging out at her boyfriend's house when all of a sudden, a horrible blizzard struck up, and her parents forbade her to drive home. When they tried to come and get her, the snow was so bad they couldn't even get out of the driveway. Her boyfriends parents were also unable to get home, and the two ended up being left alone in his house...for three days.

Two words: eighteen times.

Don't tell me you've never thought about that....

CERN, You Broke My Heart

So despite my recent infatuation with the physical sciences, my own laziness and the dreaded phrases "this material is not in the book" and "will be on the exam" have turned a once steamy, somewhat secretive affair into outright domestic abuse. And as if that weren't reason enough to give up on this whole relationship all together (in addition to familial disapproval for such unorthodox behavior), I'm starting to wonder what drew me to Organic Chemistry in the first place. That is, I started to wonder, once I met Elementary Particle Physics...

I used to think that Chem could satisfy my needs- lord knows we bother enough with positive and negative psi charges (Psi= greek letter denoting the wave function of an electron) to throw me for a spin (haha...God that was lame. No wonder Chem is hating on me) and I thought that Quantum Chemistry would be enough- all the concepts, no math. But then I got curious. Too curious. I was just browsing the science library, that's all, it's not my fault I did some searching and HAPPENNED upon Quarks and Gluons: A Century Of Elementary Particle Physics. It's not my fault that it was so light to carry and to the point and plainly written, making it what I read in my free time. It's not my fault I want to start taking notes. And then there was the fantasy. You know, they say they're perfectly harmless and healthy, everyone has them. Mine was no different: Me, my JYA, parlaying the Francais in Sweeden at CERN. Nothing wrong with that...

That is, until my poor little heart strings were crushed: "positions open to undergraduates having completed at least 3 years of study with a concentration in Engineering, Physics, or Computer Science." Is this it? Has it really come to this? Will Quantum Chemistry, even though it did give me such joy, still really be able to sate my urges with its orbitals and wave functions, while I know that within the nucleus a dozen other types of unheardof infintesimal particles bounce around at the will of forces that we still just barely understand? In Short: Should I go all out and spend 2 precious years attempting to reconquor my fear (and hatred) of intro Physics, or should I just quit this whole thing while I'm ahead? I could deal with two lovers easily enough...but three? I'm not that good.

What's My Age Again?

In two days, I'm gonna be 18. But when this oncoming milestone first hit me at the start of the week, I was surprised to find that in lieu of being excited, I actually felt a definite sense of regret.

You see, it is a commonly held to be true that at 18 your criminal record is swiped, because you are now a responsible adult who has learned better and no longer liable for your foolish actions as a child. Like it says in this fabulous piece of wisdom (which I actually gleaned from my math text book, of all places) "In Sequences (as often in life) a few indiscretions early on can be overlooked when dealing with the sequence as a whole" But what did I do with my get out of jail free time?* Nothing. Now it hasn't been a total shit show- there was the quasi food fight in 7th grade, the poem/fight the man incident, trying to find every possible dresscode loophole in the book, and probably a few other things I'm forgetting. But seriously, there I was with 18 perfectly good years (I've been well aware of this and intent on using it for as long as I can remember) to do something awesome and not have to deal with the legal implications, and what did I really accomplish? Zilch.

Normally I wouldn't even care about getting arrested for a minor infraction (If it didn't make my parents look bad) but these days with people able to access your math grades in 3rd grade with the click of a mouse you can never be too careful, even if some things are meant to be swiped after a few years. I also doubt everyone else on the ACLU team has a clean record (Cuz seriously, it's the ACLU) but this is my career we're talking about here, plus getting kicked out of college would blow.

So here I am. Two days left of "But I'm young and stupid!" (at least in the eyes of the law and my parents) and I'm thinking: Hmm...If you get arrested so close to/on your 18th birthday, does it still count?

Clearly I'm ready for adulthood.




*I would also like to inform you that there is actually an association of policman that distribute real "get out of jail free cards" for minor infractions and you can get one if you know a cop very well. Who knew?

Pwning the Cyclops

One life-changing day in Juicy's sophomore year of highschool, she realized that she could arrive a little late to class and hand in a better quality paper than had she arrived on time. She figured this was at no cost to her except for a lateness report that would probably never come back to haunt her on her report card. This worked well, until Juicy's professor was grading her, remembered the day she showed up to class 15 minutes late, and knocked what should have been a perfect 100 to a 99. "The Man" (via my advisor) spent the rest of highschool trying to knock this attiude out of me. They tried to teach me that teachers actually took it offensivley when I was late to class (even for just five minutes, really that is such bull...) and that I could not live my life leaving things off to the last minute.

They clearly failed.

If bragging about my genius discovery sophomore year cost me my perfect score, then I have a few words for Neptune in hopes of giving me a much needed kick in the ass:

It seems everytime I think I've really dug myself into an academic hole in college, things turn out just fine. As time progresses, the scare tactics wear off, and I don't see any bad results. Now, for example, I haven't gone to monday classes for at least a month, but I have never gotten better grades. That paper I thought was BS that I wrote at 5am? A-. The Astro HW I didn't do the reading for? even better. Math? same. Honestly, the last time I did this well academically was middle school. Eventually, limits get pushed and it becomes easier and easier to get by on doing even less. Whereas in highschool the system probably would have found some way to guilt me into working for them, college has no such process. I nolonger "feel bad" about any of this, so long as it doesn't hurt my grade. (Though it was a little embarassing when my gov professor emailed me to ask me where I'd been all week, and I didn't really have a quality answer.And she might factor in attendance after all. Note to self- go to class) I know that this is supposed to be where finals come in, and that anyone else in college would tell me that I am clearly disillusioning myself, and soon will be confronted with a test worth half my grade that I did little-to-no reading for and have learned my lesson to late. But here's the catch: The final in the class I have done minimal reading for and skipped several times is take home. This means I have a day or two to do the test while using my books, notes, and possibly the internet, just solong as I don't ask anyone else about it. Same for the math midterm I have coming up. Seriously, how am I supposed to know when to buckle down and learn stuff when, for at least half of my major exams, I don't really have to?!?

And then there was today. Today I watched Sex and the City for three hours. THREE HOURS in the middle of the week. Since when is this possible? Where's my frantic rush to get stuff done? Where's the energy-drink-inspired sense of an impending heart attack at any moment? This cannot be right. I know that it has been postulated that everything in the universe tends towards entropy (and by that I mean the opposite of energy) but I am starting to scare myself. I could have read for pleasure, I could have filled out a variety of forms I need to get done at some point, I could have cashed a check or done laundry, I could have done multiple things I enjoy doing that are productive and even non-academic. But no- I just sat there for THREE HOURS. Shame. What will I ever amount to in life if, when I do have free time, I don't do anything with it?


Oh- and as I promised, I must shout out my roomie who has apparently decided to stalk me and read every post since August. My first impression when I heard that was to ask "where do you find that kind of time?" but then I remembered, we're in college.

She's Super Freaky!

There are actually quite a few blog worthy thoughts on my mind this week (though expect a lull perhaps, my lap top crapped out on me) but here is the most immidiate, and come to think of it, has an almost Halloween-esque feel:

It has long been established that I am a Nexus of Fate (perhaps you think the joke's old, but seriously, this stuff keeps coming up) which means that the fates work through me to have thier bidding done. This is not always to my benefit, nor are my "nexus powers" really something I can control, but it does mean that my life is chock full of very specfic coincidences, the odd premonition (realized in hindsight of course- so no, I am not really telepathic), and most notably, a wierd connectedness among many things that happen to me. (yeah, I know, it's probably pure psychology, but just flow with me here...) The one example of this that continues to astound me more than others is the Fortune Cookie Application on facebook. Seriously, everytime I use it (save maybe once or twice) it manages to pull out something directly relevant to what ever is on my mind at the time. Hopefully this blog entry will not jinx such a useful Nexus tool, but here is every reading it's ever given me (this strange phenomenon actually promoted me to track its progress) and how it directly related to my life. Really, it's freaky.

(start at the bottom, the start of summer)

"Much of the world is shallow. Roll with it"- Juicy is currently feeling both judged, and extra judgemental for a variety of reasons

"Your friend needs you."- Juicy debates cutting off a friend in need due to excessive clingyness and feelings issues

"Good timing will be critical for you next week"- this was the first day of the week Juicy had 3 major things due, and ended up staying up till 5 to finish a paper

"Don't live with the brakes on"- nothing unless you really stretch it, and even then it was bad advice

"your life will be happy and peaceful"- juicy worries about college

"it is better to look good than feel good''- juicy thinks she needs to lose weight, and is feeling a little down, but is glad to have nice new college clothes

"your money worries are over!"- Juicy ran into another girl who was obsessed with getting ahead in the world financially and seemed to be perpetualy planning ahead (just like juicy's dad wants her to do). despite this pressure from dad, Juicy tries to remain in the moment and not too focused on carreer oriented decision making.

"a warm smile is charicteristic of a generous nature"- Juicy seeks out friends in college

"It doesn't matter. Who is without a flaw?"- can't remember, possibly another TP thing...

"make that overseas journey"- Juicy debates nagging her parents about going to Canada/Korea, or staying home.

"you will find a new love"- again, can't remember, either TheKaitzer or the kid I met at the party

"Don't be afraid to share power"-Juicy argues with her dad over control of her life

"use your knowledge to achieve immortality"- can't remember at all, was only minimally relevant

"you will recieve an important invitation"- either a week before the party or some other thing I went to over the summer, can't remember exactly, probably the former

"never be too busy to meet someone new"- TheKaitzer is fully considered

"a new outfit will brighten your day"- Juicy was thinking "i should get nicer clothes"

"call an old friend"- Juicy starts to talk to TP kid again, and also got in contact with someone else from her past minimally, can't remember who...

"Indecision can kill a deal"- forget, but it was relevant

"Keep your mouth shut"- trust me, this was good, relevant advice

Cutting It Close

Just incase y'all were starting to think that college was actually helping me improve at life...

Thursday Evening

5pm- Juicy goes to extra credit chem lecture, and runs into professor.

Juicy: Oh, and our take home quiz is due monday, right?
Prof: No, it's due tomorrow
Juicy: Oh...wow....that was fortuitous....

12:30 am- Juicy actually starts take home quiz (blame this massive procrastination on canoes, full on nudity, school-sponsored mud wrestling, the Red Sox, and a spontaneous conversation that lasted over 2 hours)

1 am-friend calls, Juicy is distracted

2 am- Juicy decides she is too tired too work, and will do this tomorrow morning

Friday Morning:

6:30 am - Juicy's alarm goes off

6:40 am- Juicy's absent roomate's alarm BLARES, forcing her to really wake up, get out of bed, and shut it off.

7 am- Juicy still somehow manages to fall back asleep

7:15 am- the time Juicy told herself she would originally start working

8:15 am- the time juicy actually started working

9 am- the time her class starts.

10:10 am- juicy BSs the last section enough to make it look like she finished the quiz.

10:11 am- Juicy thinks "hmm...it's a good thing I started going to the gym again yesterday" as she, in a great feat of athleticism, SPRINTS down the street to class, covering a 20 minute walk in under ten minutes. (all the while still wearing bright pink pajama pants, a sweatshirt, and the quickest shoes she could find: cutsie brown flats)

10:20 am-(the end of class) Juicy comes to class, turns in her quiz with another clump of students up there, and leaves.


Happy weekend everybody.

I feel Stupid and Contagious...

There's something about wearing a Tool T-shirt, even if it does rarely leave the back of my drawer, that always brings me back to my middle school, pseudo-badass roots. And that wasn't all that reminded me today either; oddly enough, it's been a collection of things recently. Today one of my friends was hosting a prospective student, and they jokingly cut me off when I started to talk about all the classes I'd skipped. Seeing OSK's new profile picture proudly sporting a red and black graffitti A (which, by the way, is the symbol for Anarchism, for all of you who did not have the enlightening middle school experience that I did) reminded me of the days when I was just begginning to embrace the full ideology of moral relativism. Even the song playing on my laptop as I went to blog was oddly relevant.

I Used to think that I was only a pseudo-badass, but I'm starting to wonder about that. True, badassism is in the eye of the beholder, and my hallmate was probably being excessivly patronizing when she referred to me as "Oh, Juicy, you rebel you..." (because really, how bad ass can you be for blatanly disobeying a teacher on a daily basis in elementary school for snacking) But then I realized- maybe I'm more of a badass than I thought. Of all my highschool friends, I'm probably the most likely to skip a commitment (then again sleeping because I was up all night working might counteract the badass effect), engage in illegal activities/mischief, convince others to engage in illegal activities/mischief, generally have a very minimal amount of respect for authority, and moreover, not feel particularly bad about any of the consequences of my actions. Plus, I did get Ad Hoc'd (albeit under VERY unusual circumstances, again, counteracting the badass effect). Before I was never too hasty to refer to myself as a badass because I knew both that there were many far more respectably disrespectable than me, and because I am capable of being a very considerate person. But perhaps I am a little more of a badass than I thought in the sense that It's not that I lack rules to live by, I just live by my own rules.

It seems that whenever major change rolls around in my life, or I am faced with having to find a new identity for myself relative to those around me, I tend to cling to these badass roots- regardless of how legitimate they actually were. As I have found myself with increasing collegiate freedom, I find myself thinking "What would the 9th grade Juicy have done?" and "When you graduate, Will you have made yourself from from 4 years ago proud?" The reason I have for not doing a lot of things is because of the possibility that my future self will regret it, but we haven't met her yet, now have we? And who is to say that my future self is any more or less legitimate a guide in life than my former self?

While at the end of the day this resolution may end up being no different than a 30 year old buying a Harley, perhaps it might also help me never get to that point in the first place. I know that one day I will have to face the fact that I am nolonger in middleschool/highschool/college (though I can still hope that grad school and early adulthood is secretly the biggest party of them all) and confess that I have infact "matured" at least a little. (*shudder*) But until then, it's not like I'm gaining any time. It's time to put a new spin on carpe diem, bitches.

Now, about scheduling that haircut....

Let's Talk About Sex, Baby!

Last night, I saw a movie called "Secretary." In this film, a girl is recently released from an institution (where she was placed because she loves to inflict pain on herself) into the real world, and starts cutting again once she has to return to all of her same old family problems. In search of something to do, she gets a job as a secretary for a local lawyer. She stops cutting, only to replace the act with being his sexual submissive. (getting off from doing everything exactly as he tells her, then making mistakes on purpose so he can spank her, etc.) Just when I thought the film couldn't get any more bizarre, this kinky relationship comes to a halt because the lawyer realizes he is actually falling in love with her, and v.v. At the end of the film (WARNING SPOILER) the submissive secretary proves her to love to him up to a point where he cannot just ignore her (it was sorta gross...)and so finally he acknowledges that he loves her, they have a really hot sex scene, then get married. (If you were wondering, this film is rated R, has a shitload of nudity and I've never seen more scenes of a chick jerking off....anyway...) The main point of the ending narration was something about how they both understood each others' love for acknowledging the pain in life, and understanding how the other one enjoyed being loved.

As my friend was crooning over their adorable loving relationship and how incredibly cute it was, I found myself thinking "What the fuck? How could a movie that spends half of its time acting as porn- S&M porn at that- actually have led to a sweet and romantic ending?" (Another line also stood out, one from the tapes the protagonist listened too when she was coming out about being a submissive- "Who said love has to be soft and gentle all the time?" hmm...)



Sex is a biological necessity, but it's good for the species to do it with people they care about because that ensures better chances that the child will be well cared for. On the same note, It has also developed into a medium for showing affection for others, while silmuntaneously becoming a way to overpower and dominate them. And on the other end of the spectrum, lots of people will hava amazing sex with people they don't even know. (which perhaps brings this whole thing full circle, back to biological necessity) This is definitley not the first movie ever made inwhich something that started out as very sexually base actually devleoped into something more, but what exactly is the relationship between sex and, well, relationships?



I guess everyone's different- our class couple back in the day barely french kissed, but perhaps that stored up sexual tension (if it existed) resulted in their fighting on a daily basis? My friend said that when her parents met, they just knew they were meant for each other. They didn't really want to have sex, infact, the only reason they did was to have kids. (Ironically enough, that kid turned out to be sortof a horndog....perhaps its a recessive gene?) Another friend of mine once saw a documentary made about married asexual couples- that's right, couples that are married but have never actually had sex. They're reasoning? One woman said "things are so good now! why risk messing that up?" True, adding a sexual level to a relationship can complicate things, and that's one theory (according to another friend of mine) for why friends don't have sex. Then again, it can also enhance them. I was talking to another friend of mine who described having a deep emotional relationship with someone, in addition to a fantastic physical one, while still just being friends and dating other people. (Though I'd like to see where that relationship ends up in a few years...) When Odysseus was stuck with Calypso, he missed his wife dearly, but the goddess sugessted that they use sex as a medium to develop a positive relationship between them, and it did work up to a point.



As you can see, I don't really have an answer for all of this, Nor do I beleive that one exists that could be applied to the majority of the population, but until then, we may have at least figured out one thing...



About that halloween costume....

This Is The Day, My Life Will Surely Change?

There's something shitty about wedsnesdays, but today was extra disfunctional. I practically slept through my alarm, and when I saw I had to be leaving at that time inorder to get to class on time, I just thought "being late would suck, I'll just skip." This is a decision I have been making WAY too often lately. It is the third time in a row I have skipped chem class (yes, I know, my poor abused lover...) and factoring in a cancellation and break, I haven't been in that class for over a week. Then I told myself that this was for the better, I would sleep in for both chem and math, thus procuring more time to work on my lab. (this is also the umpteenth time I've skipped math) Since I'm a lazy ass, I only ended up with an extra 20 minutes of time to work on my lab report before I was 1o minutes late to lab. I finished up my shitty ass lab report (cuz I seriously had no idea what was going on for that entire experiement...) and handed it in. After lab, I found out I got a B on my chem midterm (*hides face in absolute SHAME*)* told my math teacher I was sick this morning (which is true but not at all why I didn't come to class) and sat down to blog before I have to deal with a week and a half's worth of undone government reading. Oh, and I'm starving.


I was just thinking to myself what an incapable, disfunctional fuck up I am (but shh! don't tell my parents!) and procrastinating emailing back my old advisor when I realized...wasn't I bitching about this last year? Yeah, I'm in college now, but has anything really changed?

True, senior year did teach me alot about dealing with work (or rather, procrastinating and faking sick) and limits (or rather, pushing them) but am I making the same mistakes all over again? Should I actually start eating breakfast? Or should I feel no shame in being able to get by on showing up to half of my required classes in PJs 10 minutes late if I'm doing just fine in the class?

And then there's my personal life. I still spend the majority of my time working, but being in a different environment I lack the solid group of friends I could fall back on when the weekend rolled around. (Though weekends still manage to be a lot more fun if something good is going on) However, if I ever am really missing the old days of hanging out with people who actually know me (well, one at least) it's only a free bus ride (and maybe some trippy movies and half a bottle of rum) away.


Is this wierd because it's not what I expected, or is it wierd because (unlike many things in life) it's exactly what I was expecting without even realizing it?






*got an A in math though...wtf?

Oxi-Nation Reactions!

This is how you know you've been doing too much studying and not nearly enough sleeping:

Juicy [thinking to herself]: Yeah...I wanna be a chem minor, I'm taking orgo chem for fun!
Imaginary Conversational Adversary: You're crazy, you realize this has no relevance to what you want to do with your life? (Which, btw, is become and ACLU lawyer)
Juicy: well....actually, it relates quite well. The electrons in an atom are like people, and it takes energy to free them from the oppressive nucleus!
ICA: But don't electrons enjoy being in a state of least energy, eg bound to the nucleus?
Juicy: Well, perhaps it's because they've never known anything else, like how people in authoritative governement systems will stick to such systems simply because they find security in what they are familiar with, and do not know how to govern themselves. Besides, how do the electrons really know what they want?
ICA: So you're with Plato now? That's elitism.
Juicy: True... ouch, my bad. But the analogy still holds...You have to add energy to compunds to decompose/ionize them and release element's electrons, like how angry energy surrounding a political clevage can polarize a society and also make people more politically active. Once the atoms become free floating ions, they can form compounds different from the ones they were just split from, and then return to a lower energy state. This is similar to the way people en masse (because ionic compounds cannot form on the individual level) will revolt from the status quo, search for a different kind of government, then eventually settle down again once they are happy (If ever). The more electrons there are that attempt to attach themselves to a nucleus (or certain kind of government) the less the energy of the authoritative nucleus will affect them due to shielding. (even though this difference is minimal because they would all be in the same subshell...but bear with me) Thus, people are more likely to choose democratic governements, and the fact that the people have infact chosen this government makes it more accountable to their liberties and desires, just as Locke outlined in his Social Contract theory....Dude, I think we have the workings of a senior thesis!
ICA: *rolls eyes*

This is why I was chuckling to myself on my walk home tonight. Yeah....

7am: FUCK!!!

Common knowledge is that one does a better job of reflecting on their life and distancing themseleves from their problems after a solid night's sleep. But this is not always the case. After you have spent seven hours behind your own closed, flittering eyes, you start to think about things you never even knew were on your mind. During a normal night, once your mind could rest, it would first turn to the things that give it most pleasure- dreams about life goals, certain people, etc. etc. But when your trail of thought fails to slowly collapse into the random absurdity that is a dream sequence, you find yourself going far more in depth in your concious thought and reflection. You analyze your wishes and anything else on your plate, you run these things through your mind more vividly, and ponder their knitty-gritty realities and unexpected consequences. The issues of your life that you would normally suppress or simply choose not to think about rise to the surface and become mentally verbalized, and (if you're me) attempt to resolve themselves (again if you're me) often in the form of exceptionally clear, organized, eloquent, and detailed letters and/or speeches to major figures in your life. By the time 7am rolls around and the sun comes up, chances are you have already accepted your grim fate for the next day, and have reached a place of extreme zen (also partially brought about by sleep deprivation and its related insanity) and wisdom. True, it has been scientifically hypothesized is that the less sleep we get the more wisdom we lose, and thus turn into zombies. (trust me, I was once assimilated...) but I don't think sleep is always the answer. We all need these long, thoughtful nights and quiet morning moments, especially those of us who are always too lazy to wake up for them.

One thing you start to wonder about is fate, and the fate of your life. You wonder if it's all some great merciful (or serendipitous but initially cruel) "nexusy" coincidence that just as you saw the red digits turn on your bedside clock, the morning bell rang signalling the day off from school. (I screamed Fuck because I was hoping for Tuesday, but this might work even better...minus my lack of abilities due to sleep deprivation, of course. Then again, if it's really all about the sleep 2 nights before the exam, let's face it, I'm fucked.) It might also be another bizarre "nexusy" coincidence that after spending hours drafting a letter to your parents (one in particular) about how you're getting older, namely when it comes to relationships with other people, your roomate decides to celebrate the holiday with an episode of Sex and the City. And as you sit and enjoy your morning cold pizza, you watch an episode, randomly picked, called "Hot Child in the City." And guess what it was about.

The Most Depressing Thing You Will Read Today (But People Still Keep Watching...)

It all started with ER and General Hospital, then Scrubs, then House, then Grey's Anatomy, and lord knows how many more there are to come. Why are people so obsessed with medical dramas? Frankly, every time I watch one I start to wonder what bizarre tumours and diseases are lurking inside me, undiscovered until a part of my stomach or brain spontaneously combusts, thus turning me into one of the poor patients on the show. I think about death: when will I die? Will I have a heart attack? Will it be nice and quick? Or perhaps I will experience the slow, sometimes pleasant but often terrifying and utterly sickening to those around me death of the self: Alzheimer's. (only of course, to forget about it 5 min later.) Will I ever become a parapalegic? Or maybe I will have a brain tumor, thus forcing me to choose between an operation that could save my life and the risk of losing my entire personality. Is everything I've known and cherished in my entire life really that easy to chemically erase? Everyone thinks "it can't happen to me" but it could all change in a second. Before you know it, you could be a vegetable, or worse...no, I don't even want to think about it.

I guess the general populace watches shows like these because they make their own day to day problems seem trivial in the face of cancer and heart problems. Meanwhile, the personal issues of the characters on the show are far more interesting than everyone else's. There's also probably the ability to relate, to a certain extent, I mean, there are a hell of a lot of doctors and interns around, right? I enjoy these shows to a certain extent, but as you can see from my last paragraph, I can only do so in limited quantities before I start getting depressed, paranoid, and even more of a hypochondriac. Because really, this shit is happenning to thousands of people every day. And what if the brilliant Dr. House wasn't in charge of my case? I could be done.

But steps can be taken to avoid this. (Isn't it funny how everything in life just seems to tie together?) Today I scheduled the second installement of my HPV vaccination, and felt very mature (I refuse to use "grown-up" as an adjective but we all know that's really what I'm implying) because theyre sending me the bill directly and I have to submit it to my insurance provider. Once I figure out exactly how this system works (and maybe once I turn 18, just to be safe privacy-wise) I'll probably take up some new, healthy habits. (And no repeats of last weekend...ever...) Because really, it could happen to you.

And on a final note: if I ever am completley incoherent and strapped to a wheel chair, or stuck in dementia-land, etc. etc. I have one request: Please, put some cyanide in my soup and D-N-FUCKING-R!!!!!!!!!!!!