HiC's Legal!

... In Canada. Elaina and I went out to Anthony's to celebrate. They gave us an option of waiting 20 minutes for a table or going directly to the bar to eat. We were both insulted and pleased because 1) we looked 21! and 2) we weren't in Canada. Damn.

Things I got: 48 capsule box of Sudafed Sinus Headache, bag of Riesens, Communist Party t-shirt, free lunch, free pastry from worker at free lunch's location, a 10 minute phone call from my mother, flowers (from the weekend), free dinner, and the fantastic memory of running down the street in heels and a sundress, holding my coat over my head as the rain poured down.

Happy Birthday to me!

My Bad

This is an apology to my weekend companion: I suck. Not only did I give the worst performance of a sane person ever seen, but I had the audacity to put the blame on someone else. Last night I feel deeply asleep around 9:30 and slept blissfully for 12 hours. I woke up, sore and sniffly, to the realization that the constant headache of Sunday evening wasn't just from being tired and whiny, but also from the oncoming spring cold. The next few days will be spent napping and spending time with the couch while I try to own up and girdle my loins for next weekend.

Also, my birthday is tomorrow.

Blurb

With all these beautiful sunny days in a row we're having, I'm fast running out of things to do. Yesterday I talked to a girl about kayaking -- plans fell through and here I am wondering what to do.

Last night was a fun late-night frolick with Ben. He wouldn't call it any kind of late, but since we left after dark, I say it counts. Saw the movie Stick It, which is fabulously entertaining when you have no idea what to expect.

Tonight is the BBQ! It's possible that it will be a huge flop - too many people invited, not enough confirmations. However, the simple idea of grilling burgers and wearing a sundress is enough for me.

The end of the year is bearing down on me with the same unexpected speed that the end of last summer did. I've realized that this life is one helluva fantastic game for me. Studying, playing, lounging in the sun at parks on a blanket or walking back and forth across campus at night -- I'm going to miss it all. The friends I've made are ones that I'm hesitant to lose. Who knows how summer will bring? It won't be like last summer, I already know that. RJ will be in Seattle, so no late-night cartwheeling rampages at Saghalie. Gas prices are shooting higher every day, so even the Seattle<-->Federal Way commute could hurt. Chanel, well, I like to hope we'll just forget all the distance that's come between us this year and just be summer sisters again. I'm pretty sure she thinks the same way, so it shouldn't be too bad. (There's also one huge stress factor that's been resolved. No more moping around 25% of the time.)

Not that I really have a whole lot of interest in worrying about the coming months. Daylight is practically endless, the sun is out and it just keeps getting warmer. How could anyone feel bad about life??

Tag

This game starts with 6 weird/quirky habits/things about yourself. Fun on a stick, love.

1. I sleep with a pillow between my legs. It's supposed to be good for the hips, but honestly, I don't care. It's just more comfortable.

2. I only floss my teeth in the morning.

3. When I was 13, I stole two of my oldest brother's CD's: Greenday's Dookie and Third Eye Blind's first album. These days, I cannot stand listening to Green Day, but turn 3eb on every day.

4. Every time someone else says 'good' instead of 'well', I feel smugly superior. Even though I usually make the same mistake.

5. If anyone else is in the house/dorm, I can't fully relax while taking a shower.

6. I like to eat sour cream straight from the carton.

Hot Apple Cider

I went on a bike ride this afternoon! It felt fantastic, it was the first time I've had time to go out and do some real hard exercise since the first week of this quarter. After a fiasco with pumping up Jack's bike tires so Elaina could ride it, we took off with sunglasses on and hair flying, legs pumping and hearts thumping. I had one destination in mind - Fairhaven Park (or Chuckanut Park, I've heard both names for it). People were scattered about the park on blankets and towels, soaking in the sun and enjoying the afternoon. Some people played basketball, some played frisbee, several clumps of girls were laying around in their bikinis, and one couple was chasing their pet rabbit around on the grass. I'm planning on going back many, many times -- but with a good book. The Tale of Genji may be the first novel ever written, but that doesn't make it a good read.

Home

My brother, his girlfriend, my cousin and I all went down to Bellingham's Secret Beach today. Much like the secret beach in Federal Way, there is a giant driftwood fort. That's where the similarities end. This beach extends forever in all directions, with no gross port boats in your way - literally, it's just you, the beach, and the rest of the bay. During low tide you can walk out onto the muddy dunes until you're almost a half mile away from the 'real' beach. Dogs love it, they go mad chasing the seagulls and often attempt to swim the impassable current out to the other sandbars.

About this fort, though. Before the police came and tore it down with chainsaws, it had two stories and multiple rooms. Brent showed me the extent of the fort -- it covered more ground than the house I'll be living in next year does. All sorts of inspiring phrases are written on the different pieces of driftwood - some are also painted in exotic colors. Locals who built the fort are currently working on resurrecting it - one large room is finished so far, lashed down with wires - and in the meantime, a sign dedicates the site "In Loving Memory of The Villa".

Basically, I love that place. Someday a dear, close friend of mine will find access to a car, and we'll drive all around Bellingham together, exploring and discovering all these fantastic locales. I don't know who this lovely friend will be, but in the meantime, Brent will do.

I need to: eat at Diego's, rediscover the route to the beach, stand in awe of the expensive mansions along the way, find Brent's pink house, and fire-bake hot dogs next to the ocean. Next week Elaina and I will try to arrange a BBQ at Lake Padden, and if that doesn't work, I'm going kayaking.

Eye of the Tiger

Mid-conversation with my roommates last night, I stumbled upon a fantastic concept: withdrawl. Not the kind I'm used to, where I miss my boyfriend/sleep/reading/anything I passionately love and desire and haven't been getting enough of. No, I'm talking about the kind of withdrawl where you stop going to class and receive a W on your transcript instead of an F. So here it is, kids: Not only did I get to learn about Islamic conflicts in the Middle East and read all sorts of materials I never would have picked up on my own, but I don't have to write a paper about it and I don't have to go back ever again. Celebrate!

So here it is, 2:30... There are plenty of options out there, but I think I'm going to take a nap.

My own true love, lost at sea.

I got all excited about the possibility of wearing one of my new dresses today... So of course the weather turned gross. It's actually not too bad, all cloudy and semi-raining but the ground's still dry enough to wear flipflops. I'm going to the doctor this afternoon, having them re-examine my toe and give me some kind of diagnosis. Maybe I'll just have them rip the whole thing out and let it grow back under a fake toenail, like Elaina claims she did.

Tristan und Isolde

In celebration of the recent amazing weather, I've spent no less than 8 hours, probably more, in direct sunlight within the last 48 hours. Hey, I know it's not a whole lot, but I have to go to class sometime. The result of these 8 hours of sun is that I now have a nice sunburn on my right shoulder and left boob. Weird? Definitely. But my face also has a healthy rosy tint, and I smell like sun and sun-induced sweat. It's my favorite smell in the world, second only to banana-scented sunscreen.

In other news, Nick and I went to Fred Meyer today in search of leftover Snickers Eggs. Our search was a failure, or a success, depending how you look at it. Vault soda (aka Surge reincarnated) is selling for 79 cents! It was delicious, and I stayed awake all through math today. Yes, those two facts are directly correlated.

Tonight I just may be watching a chick flick with 'Lainey. This Tuesday is, surprisingly, shaping up to be not so bad.

Wednesday AM

I have a test in 45 minutes that I have neither studied for nor bothered to read the textbook for. I failed a math test on Friday (40% whoo-hoo!) but essentially aced my Spanish test yesterday. Today I am going to stop trying to read The Question of Palestine (I went to class. I heard what we were supposed to get out of it), and instead jump joyfully into the Satanic Verses. Other plans for today include: sleeping, talking to teacher about said failed math test, perhaps watch a movie with my cousin's boyfriend (or go jean shopping with cousin, whoever wants me more), and finish getting dressed. Right now I am only wearing one shoe, and I know someone who might be mad about that.

The moral of this story is that I have nothing to talk about except how busy I am. I am just that uninteresting. I'm going to be one of those pregnant women who only talk about their pregnancy, then proceed into being one of those moms who only talk about their kids. My life can only associate with the here-and-now because I have no imagination. Sorry all you others who are unlike me, I can't talk to you. I just wouldn't understand.

Technocakes are the new fad. Goodbye, Cake Cakes.

On a normal day, I would kill for just two whole hours to do nothing. And by nothing I mean play on the computer and take pictures of myself and play with my hair.

But then we have today. The notorious Wednesday. Yes, yes, I know I had the exact same schedule every Wednesday last quarter, but going from constant stress and over-work and absolutely zero downtime to... this... this smorgasbord of free time... it scares me. I'm like a mole who's been digging, digging, digging away in his dark little tunnel who suddenly hits the surface and is surrounded by this world of bright lights and dogs barking and open air. I don't know where to start. Instead, I find myself sifting through Cosmo, listening to Moby, taking pictures of myself and playing with my hair.

I have about 3 hours before I even need to start thinking about that movie I'm supposed to watch tonight. In the meantime, I'm sorely tempted to go down to Haggen and buy expensive facial cleansers, lotions, bronzers and eye-makeup remover. (Not eye drops, though. I have more eye drops than any person could plausibly use in their lifetime. Hey, I'm not a stoner! I just get seriously over-concerned every time something abnormal happens to me, provoking me to go out and buy tons and tons of different medicines to cure whatever that abnormal color may be. Turns out it was pinkeye, so the Visine was pointless.)

I don't think I'll be buying any facial cleansers. Maybe a moisturizer, because I really do need one of those. But if I do make it down to Haggen, I'll be going for the fruit. Mmm, just the thought of a ripe peach, or a juicy mango, or better yet --- freshly cut pineapple!! -- has me very, very excited.

New pictures on Flickr, by the way.

Feeling like a Criminal

If you haven't noticed it already, I got a flickr account! (That's what that pretty flashy little box is over on your right.) Unfortunately, life mostly consists of homework and studying right now. These things don't make for good photo ops. Perhaps tomorrow at Open Mic something will inspire me, but mostly, I'm holding onto the thing for parties, get-togethers, and when RJ's not looking.

Breakdown

You know you're stressed when a series of cute animal photos with cliche phrases makes you cry.

I walked out mid-class today, shaking and sweating, heart beating rapidly. It's time to sleep.

I ♥ Mom

A few weeks ago when I was home, there were a couple days when I worked from early in the morning til late in the afternoon. On one of these days, I came home and crashed on the couch, refusing to get back up. My mother asked if I was okay. "Uhnn, today was terrible," I replied. Which caused her to immediately intone, "Aw, my poor Alexander. Alexander and the Terrible," at which point I joined in and we chanted together, "Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day!" I laughed as my mom continued, "Bad days happen everywhere, even in Australia."

Just One More Moondance

Elaina made me smile today. She went to get her hair cut, and when the hairdresser commented on its choppiness, she said "I let my little cousin cut it."

Today, right before deciding to head back to the dorm, I came down with the ever-dreaded low blood sugar tremors. After a quick stop by the VC for a late night sandwich, I commenced with the walking. And realized I left my keys to the dorm on my desk, at the same time my cell phone died mid-conversation with my mother. Fortunately, fate is on my side today. Someone was going into the dorm the very moment I walked up.

Other fateful things today. The homework I did before class was the wrong assignment (tonight's), but I finished the real one a mere 15 minutes after class. I now have nothing due until Thursday, supposedly. Also, Ryan's house is amazing. Lovely. Small yet perfect. I can't wait until September now, because I am going to looove my last year at Western (last two quarters? Spain, I hope so!!)

That's about it, though. If I don't get completely stressed out and fall apart mid-quarter, I'll be surprised.

No Pants Saturdays

Yesterday went by in a blur. I believe it was late Wednesday night I decided to call up a random stranger for a last-minute ride to Seattle. Friday morning I got up after about 5 hours of sleep to take a world record breaking Long Shower. It felt good, although I almost fell asleep a few times and only had maybe 45 minutes to get dressed, dry hair, and eat before class. I'd planned on giving myself 2 hours.

Maybe it's a little weird for other people to read about me and my hopeful friends, but oh well. There's this guy in my human geography and spanish classes, so we walk from one to the next together. After 2 quarters of this class with the same people, I'm finally making another friend besides Lauren.

But after Spanish I had to rush back to the dorm to pack, so I missed the first actual meeting of the Breakfast Lunch Club. Maybe Brunch Club would be easier, but then you miss the reference to the classic 80's movie that we're trying to imitate.

The whole ride to Bellevue was awkward. The girl I'd talked into giving me a ride fell asleep almost immediately, so I got to talk to her mom about swimming and working at the pool for two hours. Yeah... At one point while mentally going over how I'd get from Bellevue to Seattle, and what I'd do for four hours, I realized: William! That guy lives in Bellevue! (Turns out that he actually lives in Redmond now -- it's been so long since we've talked that I had no idea.) He picked me up and off we went to see Failure to Launch. And Elaina was right. That movie is hilarious! It's a chick flick, yes, but the supporting characters are what makes it memorable. Zooey what's-her-face plays an acoholic with a bird problem. ... Anyway. William and I had Pepsi and Pizza Rolls and some of his mom's homemade gingersnaps. We talked about his tendency to fall in love with girls after meeting them once and how his car is now a death trap.

Once I got to Seattle, there was one last Big Thing before I met up with the boy. While standing around looking for him, I saw Aaron Borth. Yes, Aaron! The big lanky kid I used to hang out with for days and days on end during junior high! I got a big ol' hug from him and waved good-bye, since neither of us had much time to actually talk.

And then there's the frat. RJ says "sure, it was a party," but only because there were a lot of girls around. I figure, if they make t-shirts for the event, it's a party. Which means that the entire last week has just been one long beer party. We ate steaks and chocolate chip cookie bars and drank free beer. We played caps and fooseball and sat around in a hugely overcrowded hottub before stuffing ourselves with ranch pizzas and holing up in the room for the rest of the night. And by holing up I mean passing out while RJ played video games.

Awesome Friday, no? This weekend was a great idea.

Feeling Fine

I stick loneliness
Your lips
And the two coins of your eyes
Into my pocket

"Big" things have been happening lately. The other night at Open Mic Night, I ran into Ryan. You know, that nice boy who lived across from me first quarter, who I'd donate plasma with and otherwise didn't know very well. He's got a house on Lakeway somewhere, and the rent is $250 a month. I haven't seen it yet, but I've talked it over with my mom. She's okay with my plan to move out. Now I'm all excited, hoping against hope that there's a bus stop right near the house, or that I'll come across a car over the summer. I want the house to be clean and sturdy, the bathroom not a Lebanese war-zone. Last night I was up for hours thinking about moving out, studying abroad, transfering schools, etc. Now one of them is an honest possibility that I can see clearly ahead of me. It's not just some vague half-wish, half-plan that I got into my head one night over a cup of coffee. Most of my future goals are coffee-plans. This one began in a coffee house, but I definitely only drank water that night.

If I move out, I'll need new things. A mattress and a bed frame, for one. Cleaning supplies. A dresser, more hangers. Bookshelves? I could always stack them around my room, but that's tacky. A desk. What else?? What else do people need to survive? More dishes, I guess. Cooking utensils, things like a can opener and tupperware. I'm sure most of this stuff I could recycle from home... Though I certainly don't want to same bed I've got at my house. It's half broken and creaks when I roll over.

I won't go into everything else on my mind. Transfering to UW is taking up most of my thoughts, plus what classes I'll need to take. I'm thinking about talking to an advisor while RJ's working this Friday.

Besides all that, I've been doing schoolwork. This is going to be a hard quarter, but I'm okay with it. I spend most of my day in the Underground Coffeehouse, camped out on a couch doing math and reading my heavy Middle Eastern politics book. I get through 5-10 pages and have to put it down to soak it in.. And I have two weeks to finish it. So it goes everywhere I go, and I take it out whenever I can.

Anyway. Rj's on the phone now, so I guess I'm done.

Carry On, Love is Coming

I've had water stuck in my left ear for the last hour. It started announcing its presence while I was walking through the parking lot -- I may have scared some motorists with my erratic sideways head-banging. Here it is, 5:15, and no matter how I swing my head or how many Q-tips I use, it's still there. This is one of life's lessons: the smallest annoyance will become expontentially worse for every minute you can't get rid of it.

Damn it feels good to be a gansta

Earlier tonight, I viciously ended a lovely phone conversation in hopes of getting some sleep before getting up at 7 am. Turns out that was a bad idea since here it is, 2:30 am, and I'm still wide awake and kicking. I was planning on writing about this weekend later this afternoon, but now seems as good a time as any.

The boy and I decided, early last week, to rekindle our old flames and go on a random adventure. Seeing as it's still below 70 at night, our best bet for fun and laughs would be some obscure show in Seattle. He pulled out his trusty Seattle Weekly, and while I played Animal Crossing in my bed, he described all the possible events during our chosen timeslot. It took many repeats, a few lamentations over impossibly fantastic shows going on while I'd be back in Bellingham, and several enthusiastic exclamations for ridiculously unimportant events. Eventually we settled on some band called the Super Geek League, a 40-man band that provides its own refreshments. We were intrigued.

Friday came along. I'd been working 10 hours previously, was functioning on 5 hours of sleep, but was determined to make it through the night. Our destination was a little-known joint known as The Paradox (not to be confused with the Paramount, a mistake that I was ridiculed for.) This location popped out of nowhere along the roadside, was completely unremarkable, but the inside was perfection. RJ was merely impressed by the seperation of the cafe/sitting area and the concert room. I not only worshipped the booths and tall round tables with stools (yes, my foot is still bothering me), but decided that I, too, would someday cover my walls in velvet curtains.

The opening bands aren't worth mentioning much. Though the first sang multiple times about pumpkins, and after a few sets a man in a chicken suit wearing a blue wig and WWII gas mask came running into the crowd. His dancing was ridiculous, with flailing arms and jumping and rolling around. He worshipped the pumpkin on stage, stole it and ran around the room with it held high in the air while other spectators chased him. For a few moments a goth girl had him by the ankle and slung him recklessly around on the floor.

Then came The Super Geek League. There was too much to accurately remember. The trendy girl I was jealous of turned out to be a Naughty School Girl who stripped onstage and danced through an entire set, while the Robot Bunny with visible gentalia ran around poking people in the crowd. The first song featured a gorilla on a trampoline throwing bananas into the crowd. We were hesitant at first, until the lead singer assured us, "Don't be afraid to eat the bananas!" along with a reminder that potassium is healthy. The moment I noticed the banana flung at my feet, someone grabbed it and ran away. I was sad for a whole ten seconds, before I saw what was going on around me again.

Other acts included Captain Plastic, who wrapped the crowd in saran wrap, the people with balloons for heads who were trying to hide in the crowd, but were mercilessly pulled onstage and executed (it's impossible to tell you the feeling of surprise, incredulity and amusement as the first man was held down, despite his struggling, then the sudden BANG! and he goes limp, his head gone.) There was a vicious water fight, the target of the crowd's agression being a girl in a vintage 1920's bathing suit and cap, who valiantly threw any balloon that failed to pop. Immediately after there was a huge pillow fight, including the use of stuffed animals that had been soaked in water during the water fight. A moose head was flung in our direction - RJ might've kept it if he hadn't shoved it in my face, which prompted me to throw it back into the crowd. Something about wet moose cotton in my face just doesn't encourage my feelings of sentimentality. A fat cannibal pushed a shopping cart loaded with free pizza around the room -- one of the severed heads on the tray actually turned out to be a crazy lady hidden inside the cart, though her antics never hindered anyone from obtaining a slice. As a warning to all those who drink the school milk, some crazy hormone-infected man came out and poured milk all over himself while his henchmen ran about with squirt guns loaded with milk.

The final act was the most inspirational. They'd rigged a leaf blower into a toilet paper launcher - whole rolls of t.p. were dispersed in moments, flung far across the crowd in an arc of white ribbon.

After an incredible show like that, there wasn't much else we could do with our night. We were back in Fedtown by midnight, and by 1 am I was catching snatches of sleep off the questionably clean tabletops at Shari's. Paying for dinner was a fiasco that will leave me under the power of an ungodly effective guilt trip for months to come. My sleep that night was one of the best ones in history.