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| So it's 3AM and I can't sleep. Or write... which is funny that my insomnia and writer's block would bring me here... to xanga, home of my fucking old fart of a weblog that I have had since I was a pre-pubescent teenager. I mean, I don't ever really come here. In fact, I don't ever come here, really. But I don't really have a diary or anything so I guess this is about as close as it gets. I remember when xanga used to be my sanctuary... that is, before I sold my soul to myspace and then to facebook. But I really do love my xanga! It's funny, looking back on how I used to be. I guess a lot has changed since I first started blogging here all those years ago. Even reading back to my last post... a lot has changed. And in a good way. I guess I feel like I used my xanga as a satire of my real life. What it's actually like... is a lot different than it may seem. It's just always easier to write funny things, or even things that aren't even really that funny and make them sound funny.... because funny is always appeasing, and xanga, for me... has always been about the reader. But I guess now is an interesting time to explore the possibilities of writing in a new light, since well, I don't really have any readers anymore. Man! I remember when I used to be pretty fucking popular on this thing... and look at me now.... wow, how time changes things....
Weird, but I'm crying. Being here again just reminds me of all the times I sat here typing entires, being pessimistic, complaining about my life, criticizing undeserving people, places.... just being a negative nancy that I'm really not. That's just not who I am, or who I want to be. All I want is simply to be happy. I think about all the times I spent being unhappy, and how I was just.... unhappy being unhappy. And it's a vicious cycle that I no longer want to be part of. Because, truly.... for the first time in such a long time, I am happy with myself. Proud of myself. Happy with where I'm at in my life. Probably one of the hardest things I've had to learn is how to make yourself happy. Because no matter how much praise and approval you may recieve from others, at the end of the day if you are not happy with yourself, you are not really happy at all. All I've ever really wanted to do my entire life is make others happy, and as rewarding as that is, it becomes draining when you yourself are not truly happy. It's not that giving, giving, giving isn't a great thing, because it is, don't get me wrong... but you just need to remember to give back to yourself every so often. No fuck that, everyday. I'm not saying that I'm there yet, but I'm working towards it.
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| So, it is currently 7:30 in the morning and I am sitting in the library... what has become of me? I don't know. It's funny, because this is probably just about the only time that the library is ever not raging... strange. And of all people to be here now when it's so quiet that I could probably listen closely and hear the sounds of a flushing toilet... it's me. I guess that just goes to show you what kind of person I am. Golly, I am bursting with self esteem now! Well, that and I am completely cracked out on Starbucks, but seriously... it is 7:30 in the morning. Not to say that waking up early has equated with me doing anything productive with myself really. I mean, my dog has already taken a piss AND a shit on the sidewalk. Yeah, that's definitely more than I can say for myself. The strange thing about taking your dog for a walk and watching them piss and shit wherever the fuck they please is that sick satisfaction you get out of seeing them do this. Is this because we humans secretly long to piss and shit freely wherever and whenever we feel like it? I mean, maybe, for a sick few of us, but what it really comes down to is knowing that despite having to scoop your dog's turd off the sidewalk at 7 AM, at least that piece of smelly shit is not marinating somewhere in your house. Because I swear, anytime I think I smell even a remote sniffle of dog shit I start to freak out. So that is why whenever my dog decides that today is a good day for shitting outside, he receives an overwhelming amounts of 'Good boys!' and 'Good job!' I swear, the type of encouragement and rewards we people give our dogs just for pissing and shitting.... it's really fuckin' weird. I mean, can you imagine sitting on the toilet and having your friends and family watching and listening and congratulating you when you drop your third turd of the day? "Yayyyy what a good job! Okay now wipe, wipe... alright, just a little bit more. Awww... good job!" ...Okay, yeah, no... gross. But things we'll do and say for the sake of a shit and piss free house.... ahhhhh.... | | |
| In honor of completing my third consecutive hour of studying the Stigmatization of St. Francis, I have decided to reward myself by taking some time to bitch about my incredibly amazingly awful school which is more commonly known as the University of California, San Diego, or to abbreviation whores (like myself), simply, UCSD.
Midterms are here, and I have three papers due on Tuesday, all of which I have yet to begin writing, and now suddenly my attitude towards school has turned to shit. Yes, because going to the library and actually studying sucks, but mainly because my chances of getting completely shitfaced this weekend have gone from probable to maybe to highly unlikely to hello Geisel library, my home for the next 72+ hours. But whatever, this is my education we're talking about. Because we all know how important an education is these days... right? I mean, unless of course you're blessed with talent (and steroids) like Barry Bonds. Or Timbaland. But seriously, really how important is an education these days? I mean, I find myself sitting here, sitting in class, sitting... well, anywhere... and I really have no idea what I am doing with myself. I dislike being at this school so much to the point where I am majoring in anything I possibly can that will allow me to get the fuck out of here as soon as I possibly can. So here I am, majoring in History, which throughout my own history of schooling has been my least favorite subject. And now look at what desperation to get out of UCSD (and depression) has brought me to do... major in it. Ahhhh.... Now that's school spirit if I ever saw it!
Another conclusion (or maybe just cynical assumption) I have come to about my school is that while most colleges are populated with students full or raging hormones, mine is filled with people who are more turned on by biology than by sexual activity. I mean, most guys are probably more interested in what they got on their chemistry midterm than touching a girl's titties. But that's just in my opinion. Maybe I'm just not meeting the right people? Or maybe I've just never experienced chemistry and biology in such an amazing light that I would rather study than spend my time being a pervert. But you know, I can't have a completely pessimistic attitude about the sexual attitudes of people at my school. I mean, I'm sure they still masturbate. At least god I hope so! I mean, they are still human... right?
And sadly, I do not have enough time to continue, because I, like the many incredibly smart people I go to school with (a.k.a. nerds, I'm trying not to be directly derogatory here) am going to be a good student and go to class. Even though it is just gymnastics class, and even though I do have raging hormones, I do still like to make myself feel like I share the same mentality as the students here at my school by being a good girl and going to class. Yayyyyy!!!! | | |
| Weird. But after I posted that last blog I realized that it had been exactly three years to the day since my last entry on this thing. Talk about a long hiatus! I mean, three years? That is a significant amount of time of a young person's life. I guess a lot has happened, but at the same time.... not really. Because those three years were pretty much spent being a little myspace slut. But ohhhh xanga... I've missed you.... Even though you're probably sticking me a big virtual middle finger right now for being a traitor.... I still heart you. Foreva and eva and eva... I mean, if I was lame enough to carve our names together on a tree... I'd do it. Well no, that's a lie, but I'm just trying to kiss your ass, xanga. That sweet, sweet ass of yours.
Oh, and speaking of asses... I was at yoga the other night and this fucker rips one of the biggest, wettest, gnarliest farts I have heard in a long time. And I've smelt some pretty bad farts in my day, but this one was bad. Really bad. And of all people, who is practicing directly downwind from the fucker who just farted? Yup, me. Talk about one of the worst places and scenarios to experience a stink fart... geeze. I mean, the room is 100 degrees, I'm not sure whether to laugh or barf and on top of that I have to be silent, there are about 35 other sweaty people surrounding me... and I am about 3 feet from this man's asshole. Great. But whatever, what's done is done, and what is farted, well, it is farted.
Now, being the paranoid person that I am, I am absolutely terrified that I am going to fart during yoga. It seems that just in general it is a sin for a female to fart. I mean, I've met girls who seriously say that they've never farted... I bet they are probably the worst ones! Ripping farts on the wide when they are in the privacy of their own fart-acceptable sanctioned zone or something. But everyone knows that everyone farts sometimes, and that's that, but for a female to fart in yoga... that would just be mortifying. And now I've got myself thinking that it could happen to me! It really is quite dreadful, but I need to start thinking optimistically. I'm a good person... I recycle. I give money to homeless veterans. I don't eat animals. I rarely fart in public. I think I'm a pretty above decent human being, and hopefully this is enough to keep me from farting in a yoga class.
Another good thing I've done recently is adopt a pound puppy. And I am in love! I never had a dog in my life and I never understood why people are so obsessed with their dogs, but my dog has converted me to one of "them." He makes me smile and get all lovey and happy. You know, aside from the fact that he has a cold and won't stop blowing loads out of his nose on all the blankets and on my clothes. But that's only temporary. I still lahhhhve him. He's a clever fucker too. I took him for a walk the other day and he stops right in the middle of the crosswalk as we're crossing the street and takes a fat dump. Such a smart boy! And you bet I rewarded him with an organic dog treat for that one.
So I think it's time for me to learn something from my dog. I mean, seriously. Cruising, sleeping, walking, enjoying nature... shitting in the middle of the road... That's pretty sick. I realize that I spend a lot of time analyzing why things suck, and instead, I should spend my energy recognizing the good things in life. That's basically what a dog does... maybe that's why they are such needy frickers. But in a good way. | | |
| Xxxxxaaannnnggggggggggaaaaaaaaagggggggggggggoooooooyyyyyyyyaaaaaa! It's been awhile, bitches. And by bitches, what I really mean is... Hi Taylor! I fly.
In other news... I just took a piss that smelled was bright orange and smelled like kakimochi. Yikes, that can't be good. And it is 12:05 AM and I am doing laundry... and not studying. Wow, I am on a roll!! And I am wired on homemade Starbucks coffee that frankly just isn't the same as the whole Starbucks experience should be. But whatever, I'm trying to control an addiction and hopefully save myself a few pennies with this homemade shit. However, that is the downfall... you don't realize that when you make coffee yourself that that is essentially what coffee is...... shit. But oh how a few pumps of magical syrup can suddenly make coffee good and me stay awake for eight consecutive hours of school. Yay Starbucks! Yay me!
Ew... that was gross. I apologize. Actually no, I don't apologize, because it is not that that was in fact gross, but it is I who is truly gross. But that's nothing new. But you know what is new.... the year. Although it is almost the middle of January and I am already starting to feel like the biggest cornball in the world throwing out the "happy new years" to people. Who really knows when the appropriate time to cut that shit out is though? I mean, I've seen my dad throw out a "happy new year" in March. I mean, seriously.... March?! But whatever, if you can get away with it by all means go ahead, but at this moment.... 12:14 AM on January 18th, I am done with the happy new year-ing. Although this does not mean that I do not wish your year to be a happy one, I am just not going to kiss your ass and tell you so.
Oh but what the fuck, we only live once..... HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Because we all know how much I love kissing ass) Okay, that was it. I think that should get it out of my system, so forreal this time, I'm done. Seriously. And if you're really feeling down and you need someone to wish you a happy new year, find my father in March.
And now I really have nothing else to say, well, actually I could ramble incessantly for pages and pages, but instead, I shall leave you with this utterly ridiculous video for one of my favorite songs in honor of my being back on xanga. Cause I was gone for a minute, now I'm back let me hit it..... Okay, well scratch that it didn't really work out like how I thought it would, but if you're ever bored and you feel like watching.... http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hi9PlX65K8c
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