Why I haven’t posted any posts or been creeping on your blogs

1. My internet connection is a mother fucking son of a bitch
2. My vacation (maybe just for the weekend but I wanted to make you jealous)
3. School
4. School
5. My internet connection
6. I’m trying to get used to my new body (i.e. shopping)
7. Trying to deal with my drug addicted friend
8. Trying to figure out who I am (I know that’s a cop out)
9. Making friends with my sister who I made up with (again)
10. My job
11. School
12. My internet connection
Anyway, today’s goal is to get caught up.
P.S. I have a new appreciation for twitter since it’s basically little snapshots of your lives so I don’t fall too behind. So, if you have it, follow me or post your user here or something.
P.P.S. So I definitely had to restart this browser 3 times in order to try to post this. FUCK. I am so P.O’d. FUCK MY LIFE.

The school dilemma… and how my screwed up personality fits into it

Life is short.
That’s what I keep being reminded of these days. It’s gone on ever since I ditched one of my best friends when I realized that my mental picture of her wasn’t what I wanted it to be and I couldn’t keep making excuses for why she is such a bad friend.
Whenever I go through a change like that, I cling to my family. And every few hours or so, I tell myself to be good to them because they’re going to die soon and I’ll never see them again (note: atheistic agnostic here). These moments we share are only going to go on for so long until they expire. Until they expire or until this state we are in expires.
For the past ten years, it has just been my parents, my sister and me living in a house together. With my impending (but not yet confirmed) move to university, this time seems short. I only have sixty days left here. Then I’ll go east for about two months. When I come back, I’ll have to move out because the campus is three hours away. May not seem like much but it would be a six hour commute.
The ultimate decision is between that school and one that is only a half hour away. I could live at home if I chose to go there. The university that is further is a little more prestigious but not by much. And it would cost more… a truckload more.
My mother had told me that the decision is up to me. But now as we come closer to crackdown time, she’s subtly urging me to go with the closer school. She even once told me that she didn’t want me to move away. Truth is, I’m not sure if I want to move away.
Ok, here’s some more honesty… I wanted to go to the further school because they had a Greek life and the closer one didn’t. But after visiting the campus, I realized that I love it anyway. The air of independance and a strong campus life makes it irresistable. Let’s add in your own residence and the fact that the school is absolutely gorgeous… well, it makes a good fresh start for me. And I think it’s what I’ve been looking for.
I’m sick of the status quo. I’m sick of waiting for my friends to realize my worth. I’m sick of feeling like I’m always being judged. I’m sick of searching for some guy to understand what I’m all about. I’m sick of being this tailored, superficial idiot that I turned myself into to make my high school crush like me. I’m sick of trying to fool myself into thinking I’m happy.
I need to be a new me. Someone who I want to be. Someone who listens to Billie Holiday and is cool with it. Someone who can dance without constantly adjusting her clothes. Someone who can introduce herself and not feel like she’s burdening people by telling them her name. Someone isn’t bothered if she isn’t constantly useful or helpful. Someone who likes herself. Someone who believes in herself.
I used to be her and I don’t understand when I stopped being her.
I don’t know if a new scene will help me be her again. After spending twenty grand extra, I might even just stay exactly the same as I am now. Maybe moving away is admitting defeat. What if it’s just because I don’t have the guts to reinvent myself right here. What if I’m totally weak and nothing can help me.
I don’t know, all I know is… I can’t stay like this anymore. I’m fucking killing myself.

Consider this my two weeks notice

As in, I need two or more weeks to sort my head out because I am a stress case.
I don’t even have time to think. I’ve had a lot of interesting things to think about too. And I’m still hungover as shit.
Note to self: If you read this and you’re considering spending an hour of your time blogging or reading random posts, just stop that thread of thought right now. Turn around. Run back to your stats textbook and immerse yourself in your good friends; alpha, beta and power for maybe the next 48 hours?

I made the mistake of choosing Political Science as a major…

Why?
I don’t know.
We’ve already established that I’m an idiot. Maybe that had something to do with it.

From a social point of view, these interests are not all equally important and the price that a society is required to pay in order to allow acts of expression of a particular kind to flourish will sometimes be a function of the value of expression of that kind.

Hmmm really? Interesting…

This cannot mean, of course, that the protection due given acts of expressions depend on the actual value of the particular purposes at which it aims.

Well, of course, it doesn’t mean that.
Oh but wait, there’s more…

The protection to which an act of expression is entitled is in part a function of the value of the larger purpose it serves.

Seriously?
I mean, seriously?
What the fuck are you talking about?
What are you saying? These words mean nothing to me. I have no idea how I’m supposed to turn this into a ten-page essay that needs to be turned in in about 6.2 hours.
Why do people do this? Why do you write books like this and expect second year college students to get it? Like it’s bad enough that you use words like aforementioned and you insist on putting about 30 sets of brackets on every page, but could all of this waste of ink actually make any sense… please?
I am going to fail.
I am going to fail because this guy here is trying to compensate for his short penis length by writing long incohesive sentences.
Can I get some sparknotes on this shit??

What I need is a bucket…

There’s this poem that my grandmum used to sing to us back in the old country. I’m not going to really write it phoneticallyin the language but it’s more like a nursery rhyme. Something like (and I’m using the most literal translation here)…

With cold cold water, bathing should be done.
Whether a song is known or its not,
Singing should be done.

Or at least its what I think it is. It’s kind of difficult to figure out whether the second song means whether you know how to sing or not… or if its about knowing a song to sing. Either way, my point is that that is exactly what I needed.

A cold shower and a song.

I guess I got it. In the New Year. I didn’t make any formal resolutions but they kind of made themselves. I’m going to lose weight before my cousin’s wedding so I don’t look like a total dope in front of my skinny-as-a-stick, snotty, bitchy, adopted, gold-digging cousin (can’t you feel the love?). I’m going to excel at school even though I have never taken this many/difficult courses in my life so I can get the hell out of the seventh layer of hell (community college) and maybe graduate to the sixth level (university?).

I am officially 187 lbs right now. What the fuck? A month ago, I used to be 170 lbs. What is going on? Seriously. God? Anyone?

This is going to be a random post. It already is. What am I doing to myself right now.

Nothing.

I just felt the need to write because I’ve been too overwhelmed/reluctant to do it.

I swear to god, these fruit flies are going to be the death of me. The one fruitfly got over my nose and found himself a girlfriend apparently. They are everywhere. This blog should be called the Vermin Side of Life. I finally got over my guilt trip about killing them. With all respect to Buddha and all things (and people) Buddhist… but fuck, it just isn’t worth it. So I listened to someone who posted a reply about putting orange juice out? My count right now is five but every time I kill one, another one magically appears. My life feels like a neverending Pokemon episode. I gotta catch em all. I’ve made an idiot out of myself doing it. I’ve swatted them with paper, books… burnt them with a lighter (tried anyway)… sprayed them with Axe. Where the hell are they all coming from? Seriously. I have had enough. This is not okay. Who do they think they are buzzing around my face. Stopit.

Ugh that is it, I’m going to go raid their asses.