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.

Law and Order is Boooring

This break has been easy. Easy, somewhat antisocial, mostly relaxing. Why bother calling up old Federal Way friends when I have to get up early every day to work? Take tonight. The right thing would've been to find Chanel, finally, and have our long-awaited reunion. But then I thought, hmm, at work by 5:30? Up at 4:30? Maybe I'll just try to go to bed early. Sooo... Yeah. I'll see people during the summer, I guess.

I've watched one movie a day, at least, since being home. V for Vendetta was the best quality - Bride and Prejudice, a Bollywood version of the classic Jane Austen classic, was by far the most fun. I want to watch more Bollywood musicals now.

Next Stop: Shower

I wish Bellingham could be everything that Federal Way is right now. Sunny, comforting.. home. Maybe a car and a job would do that. Maybe local friends and the history of many years and the knowledge of locations. Of all the things I love about Bellingham, I don't love enough. I don't know where to go on a sunny Monday afternoon (Steel Lake, Dumas Bay, Dash Point) or things like how that one house has always had a fake plastic horse in its front yard, and how that other house goes completely buck-wild with Christmas lights.

Either way. I'll never pick Federal Way over Bellingham. I'll come home every now and then, summer won't be as bad as I thought it might be, and Bellingham will either become my new home, or I'll go somewhere else.

Work is my comfort place while I'm home. I can go to the Federal Way Pool, and like Ryan, sit around all day. I can swim laps any time I want, talk to Michelle or Bryce, answer the phone and joke with the kids from the high school on the other side of the parking lot.

Alright. Time for the story to begin. I don't think I'm going to do it justice -- too many days have gone by, my frame of mind has done a complete 180, and I just don't know what to think of it all. Last Wednesday I met up with Greg at Bay Street. He reminded me of Jon, in a way that even I can't explain. Maybe I'm just looking for a Jon in my life now. We talked family and jobs and music and books and movies. We went to a "museum" of hands-on interactive technologically interesting exhibits. It reminded me of the Science Center, only geared to older people. I have to say, I was disappointed there wasn't a bubble curtain. Either way, it was a fun little afternoon, though the girls back at the dorm put a lot more hype to it than they should've. (Julia sat and waiting for 3 hours for me to get back. It scared me.) So the reaction goes like this: I like Greg. He's nice and intelligent and perhaps if we hang out again, we'll find some sort of common ground that we can sit and make fun of other people about. That was how it began with Tom and I, you know. Making fun of people at the pool. Anyway, I'm hoping we can get to be pretty good friends. Hate to get back to this catchphrase again, but I want to meet new people. Make new friends. And he's new people, a new friend.

The result of this friend revelation, was, naturally, that things are not over between RJ and I. At all. I guess that was obvious. Our continuing 2-hour phone conversations every night. My reminiscing about summer and the times we drove to Bothell looking for my fisherman's pond. We have another summer heading our way, and I want to spend it with him.

It was a good decision. We're still completely incapable of pulling off a real date. Friday, we watched a rented movie - Mirror Mask - with mixed drinks made of leftover alcohol, fresh fruit, and Dog and Tom sitting with me on the couch while he was alone on the chair. We're both awkward with the idea of each other's parents now - I swear his mom looks at me funny, and he won't even come in my house. There's a lot we need to get through still, but we'll do it.

As for Tom and Chanel! Well, there's not a whole lot of news about them. Tom's hair is still shockingly beautiful, I've learned more about him in the last few days than I did all last summer, and he's thinking about visiting me during his Spring Break! While waiting for RJ at the pool hall, this was his Quote: "No matter what happens between you two, I'm still the guy who took you to Prom. Don't you forget it!" Chanel, well, I haven't seen her yet. I'm debating if I should see her today, or take this lovely opportunity of a day to drive up to Seattle. We'll see.

Finally. And right now, the most important. Anyone who has listened to me babble about books has eventually heard this from me. I've probably written it up here before. But Third Eye Blind is my favorite band. In one of their songs they claim, "I read dead Russian writers, volumes at a time." Ever since I heard it, I've been inspired to read the Russian classics. Anna Karenina scared me -- far too long, far too much talk about expenses and social theories. But since I've started reading Doctor Zhivago, I've become hooked. It's not one of those books that you can't put down, have to stay up all night reading. Sometimes I don't like those books - they're over too fast, and because of that I feel that there isn't enough content, enough new ideas that make you sit and think and go "hmm...". I like the "hmm..." factor. Doctor Zhivago has that. The Doctor has been able to explain my religious beliefs better than I've ever been able to grasp -- I don't want to get into religious preaching, so read the book. Within the first 100 pages you'll know exactly how I feel about God and formal religion. So there's your "hmm..." factor. Then there's the pure excitement. The women shooting ex-lovers, husbands joining the war as their only escape from their wives, and said wives becoming nurses to go find their husbands when they go missing. All within the first 100 pages! Ahh... Russian love.

Turkey, Cheese, Mayo, Spicy Mustard, and This Really Thick Healthy Bread That Could be a Meal On Its Own

For the last three days, every time I eat a "meal" (read: sandwich, hot pocket) I get the hiccups. I figure it's either because I don't breathe while I chew (thus resorting to giant gasps for breath between bites) or because I'm always staring at some sort of electronic equipment. Like now, with my mom's laptop. Or yesterday, with RJ's Nintendo DS, right before I broke it with a crumb.

Since I'm only working 'til 2 today, whereas I thought I'd be at the pool 'til 4, I solemnly swear that I will make a longer post this afternoon. Right after I take a shower and shave my legs and figure out who I love the most and want to visit: RJ in Seattle, Chanel in Federal Way, or Jon in the land of No Idea What That Guy is Up To These Days.

Cinnamon Roll Oatmeal

Things have turned out to be a bit busier than I thought. Maybe I'll find time tomorrow to do my mentally mapped out gigantic update, growing daily. But hey, no worries! Everything's going well - Tom still loves me, I see/talk to him every day, and Chanel called last night. I guess my F-dub friends didn't forget me after all.

Nothing good comes easily (sometimes you've got to fight)

Last week, I was scurrying furiously around campus trying to find a way - any way, honestly - to take my Logic final early. Professor Downing didn't like it when I lied about a family vacation, so I dropped it and settled into a bored resignation.

Looking at how things worked out, I'm glad I stayed.

Yesterday was an Event. I can't say exactly what it was because I'm teasing RJ about it, but maybe Saturday I'll write the whole play-by-play. It was nothing bad. In fact, it was part of a chain of events that I hope will make everyone happier and more satisfied with life than they are already.

In other news, I sold my books back today. For my $8 1/2 lb paperback Logic book, I got $25. For my $60 5lb rice paper concrete brick English book, I got nothing. I put it in a box full of other books that people couldn't sell back, but didn't want to hold onto. But y'know what? I still think I won.

He'd kill Nadia, quit school.

(Sorry. I rediscovered the joy of putting interesting tidbits on here a few days ago. I'll probably be on here several times over the next few weeks, then drop back to 'mehh, tired, went to class, nothing to say.')

This is what Brent has to say to the world about our "hometown":

Wow, I had no idea so many people hate that place as much as I do. I always pretended that I was the sole survivor, a lone refugee that escaped to Bellingham. We moved around a lot for a while when I was younger, and FW was where we finally settled down. Of all the places in the northwest we had been, FW was by far the worst. Here's how it all happened.

Parents: We're moving back to Federal Way.
Kids: Why the HELL would you want to do that?
Parents: We kind of like it there.
Kids: It's nothing but SPRAWL, the WHOLE CITY, the nasty leftovers from every city within 50 miles.
Parents: Leftovers? You mean like... lasagna?
Kids: No... like poop.
Parents: Poop?
Kids: Yeah, poop. You know, from a butt.
Parents: Well, we're moving there anyway.
Kids: ........


You can tell my brother's been reading PennyArcade quite religiously these days.

The Winner is Me

I'm lazy. I'm stubborn. But it all usually works out for me.

Take today.

I went with Julia to Bellis Faire, to meet up with Annie and buy things to decorate her room. Unfortunately, I somehow sprained my foot while running earlier. After about 20 minutes of limping around and cussing under my breath, I gave up and went out to catch a bus back home. Well, I got the wrong bus. Sort of. I got on the bus at 5:08. I didn't get back to BT until 6:42. (Not an exact time there or anything.) Basically, I figured the bus would get there eventually, so I sat through 3 stops at bus depots, endless loops, and drunk dirty bearded men sitting near me. But I kept sitting. And sitting. And nursing my foot. And chewing my gum furiously. And being entertained by the little asian toddler that was laughing at my funny faces.

Anyway, the moral of this story is: instead of having to transfer buses or even give up my seat, I went from Bellis Faire to BT's doorstop. It took me an hour and a half to do it - but I beat the system!

Not to be mean, But...

So, 5 am, here we are again. You know, we have a very odd relationship. You're really not one of my favorite people to hang out with (no offense). And yet, look at us! What is this, the third? Fourth day in a row? Look, I'm sure you're a really cool guy around other people, but you're just not my type. Maybe we can give it another shot in a few days, but seriously, right now, I need some time away from you.