I have a head on my dresser

Ok, it's not a real head. It's a glass head. But when I saw it at pier one, I had to have it, though. The cashiers must have thought I was crazy. I carried it around under my arm as I looked around the rest of the store, adjusting it at times. I even took it out and talked to it. Perhaps not something a normal person would do with a glass head... but when have I ever claimed to be normal. Now I must think of a name for it.

If you look at it carefully, you'll notice that they added to much of the glass and it settled on the right-top side. When I noticed this I was really pissed and was actually going to take it back. But then I figured, wouldn't it be interesting if the glass head had brain damage? So she does. So the name must correspond to the fact that she is glass and has brain damage. God, I HATE naming things. Where's a John Shepherd when you need one?

I'm getting a cold. I hate colds. Because I was cursed at infancy with asthma, I have a slightly weak immune system and I get sick all the time. And of course, it's harder to get well. So yeah, I'm drinking soup and tea and staying hydrated and pretty much sleeping whenever possible. But this really interferes with me having a good time when I go home this weekend. Though my puppy's sick too--she has a yeast infection in her ear, poor baby--so we'll just have to curl up together and make my mom take care of us. After all, that's what moms are for...right? Or is it just to bitch at you and make you feel like shit....well, my mom does both...at the same time.

We're singing Respect in choir and there's a solo up for grabs...well, if someone's capable of holding the solo. I think I am. Hopefully he doesn't audition for it this week so that I'm not sick and miss out on the opportunity because of it. I could totally hold that solo.

So a few days ago, I decided I would make a southwestern quiche. So on Saturday I went out to buy ingredients so I could make it the next morning. Only problem, I couldn't find a local grocer that carries Chorizo. How am I supposed to make Southwestern quiche without Chorizo?!? Why don't they carry it? How can people in Northern Cali not like Mexican food enough to stock it? Yeah, I was pissed. So here's my sub-par--though delicious--quiche. It has red, yellow, and orange bell peppers; onions; and a mixture of some more prominent tasting cheeses. Would have been better with Chorizo. *grumbles*

Screw you guys, I'm going home

So much has happened this past week....well, it's been more than a week, but I'm pretty time deficient. I shall make up for it by my usual comical, egotistical rants and maybe a pretty picture or two *ooohs and ahhhs*.

Z and L have officially left as of last Saturday. It's quiet, V is hiding in her cave and has managed to remain vigilantly creepy. The truth is, without their normal buzzing chatter and the smell of their cooking all day long, I have spiraled into a depression (note: this could also be due to a certain monthly visitor, but I shall blame it on being abandoned instead of my genes). There's no one here to talk to, my friends live 5 miles or more away and I can't talk to my mom because she's a needy bitch. Z and L, if you read this: hurry. Or you may find me three weeks later, half eaten by wild dogs.

In 58 days I will be 21. This is not an occasion to cheer. Well, I guess it would be if I were a wino--which may eventually come into being. However, this burgeoning day has brought into sharp realization all the things I missed out on in life by being so mature and goal oriented. 1) I never partied...nope, never got sloshed with a group of underage youngsters I couldn't stand unless inebriated. 2) I've never done a single illegal substance. No weed, no coke, no e. Then again, I never really wanted to, so why I'm complaining about this, I have no idea. 3) I've never had crazy drunken sex, which would refer back to number 1. I guess, however, there's still plenty of time for this. After all, I'm still a college student.

So last Saturday I went to the Cal vs. Tennessee game. Want to know a secret: it was my first collegiate football game. And it was fricken awesome. I don't even like football, but something about being amongst my fellow school mates, rooting to see Tennessee get their asses handed to them, I realized what I've been missing out on. Next year, I'm going for the season passes.

Then before that on last Tuesday--at least I think it was Tuesday--I went to see Sweeney Todd. If you aren't familiar with the musical, let me tell you a bit about it. It's set in turn of the century London. Sweeney Todd was sent to prison by the Judge of the town because the Judge wanted his wife, so Sweeney escapes from a prison years later and returns hoping to find his wife and child are safe and haven't fallen prey to the Judge. Well, he finds out his wife has died and decided to exact his revenge by killing the Judge and his minion by posing as a barber and cutting their throats with his sheers. I won't tell you the rest, because you must see it. Anyways, Angela Lansbury was in the original cast as Mrs. Lovett--the women who owns the shop below the room Sweeney is renting. The woman playing Mrs. Lovett at ACT in SF sounds JUST LIKE her!! It was uncanny. But, yes, the production was amazing and they did so much without a moving set. It was brilliant. If you live in the bay area, I encourage you to see it. If not, well, Tim Burton's movie version is coming out this Christmas staring Johnny Depp and Helena Bonham Carter. It's my favorite dramatic musical, so you can bet I'll see the movie at least 10 times in theaters. Oh an Alan Rickman in is it too...amazing casting.

Oh, did I mention, to get to Sweeney Todd, I had to drive over the Bay Bridge--for the first time. I am officially an Easy Bay-er now. I still don't know if it was worth the $4, but I'll definitely do it again, because I want to roam around Treasure Island some weekend. Though, next time I will not drive through SF...I couldn't find the theatre for the life of me. Driving in such a busy city sucks. I shall park by Ghirardelli Square and walk or take the trolley.

I have a Calculus test on Monday. It could be interesting. (Define interesting....Oh god, oh god, we're all going to die.) So I've been studying, well, trying to study, while watching South Park S1 & 2 and movies like Se7en and Serenity--because I had to go out and buy the collector's edition...yeah. I buy it once for $21 then I spend another $21 for the extra bonus feature. What can I say, Joss Whedon is my master now.

You want another pretty picture, don't you? Ok, here's one of the best pizza ever made--well, second best because the one I made after this was even better. It's a caramelized onion and portabella mushroom pizza with sun dried tomato alfredo sauce. The better one had hummus mixed in with the sauce and had bellpeppers too. I should totally drop out of school and open a gourmet pizza parlor. (Excuse the blurriness, my camera is crap-tastic).

Irresolute

I wasn't going to blog tonight because I have so much to do, but I need to get a few things off my chest.

1) Whoever you are Emily, I have no idea what Kalissa means. She is not I. I am not she. If you're going to comment, say something. It's really driving me insane.

2) Z and L are leaving for a bit--they're going to be gone this week and possibly the next--and I'm left alone with V! Somebody save me!!

3) I hate time. Shakespeare you were wrong. You can't beat time, even by procreation. Because eventually, time rips everything you once knew to pieces and you must start anew. Maybe I should let her experience things. We've had our rough patches before. And it's not like I don't have new friends. I'm scared I lose her and with her I will lose a part of myself. This is why I used to not invest in people. I'm not that cold, however. Being alone is an awful waste.

I just read that last passage and I realized I sounded like a lesbian. I'm not. Just have to clarify that. She's just a friend.

Strolling Solano

So dinner went well last night. About four my favorite housemates, Z and L (the two cute Chinese gals I mentioned in the last blog), asked me if I wanted to go with them to the Asian market. Seeing as I love the Asian culture and I'm always thirsty for new experience, I obliged. So we walked the mile to the market. At least I think it was about a mile. Next time I'll get my pedometer out to make sure. Anyways, so we walked down there and I must admit there were so many things I've never seen or tried before. So I took in pretty much everything. I wish I had my camera. Next time I will bring my camera. There were bean cakes and sweets and all the labels were in Japanese and Chinese and Vietnamese and the like and then we got to the meat section. I've never seen so much on the shelf. You had your typical cuts, or course. And then there were novelties such as pork brains--which L laughed at me for oogling over.

"Do you eat them?" she asked.
"No, they're just so awesome looking," I said, still dazed at seeing brains in a disposable container.
She laughed.

They, of course, had things that we in America would throw away and consider not edible--even if they could be used in some manner. It amazes me how thrifty and conscious people everywhere else are. They had live seafood too! Lobster and clams and mussels. The only thing that got to me was the smell of the fresh fish laying out on the ice. I don't think it was too fresh after sitting there all afternoon.

Then we went over the the Chinese food buffet in the store and got some dinner. We got flour noodles and rice noodles and rice and eggplant and Szechuan chicken and fried shrimp--which I couldn't eat because their heads were still attached...I found it very odd--and squid and tofu skin and ginger chicken. Let me tell you, this wasn't Panda Express. This was real Chinese food--though I'm sure I could find better quality somewhere else.

So we brought it home on the mile long journey. Z and L kept asking me if I had heard of this or tried that. To most of it, I said no. I've never felt so American in all my life. I thought I've lived a brave life so far and tried to incorporate as much into it as possible. It made me realize how much life I have left to live and how much I've yet to do.

Anyways, on the walk home I flirted with a cute tattooed guy and then I tripped in front of the same cute tattooed guy and made myself look like an idiot. And we got home around five. So we were only gone an hour, though I took in so much that it felt like it had been four.

Once we came home and forced the Vampire--I shall call her V--out of her room the environment wasn't as joyous. Z and L are really sweet and easy to get along with, but V just isn't. She's too much of a hermit and seems pretty self-righteous to me. Of course I wouldn't know because she's only said maybe ten words to me since I've moved in.

Yet, despite her cold presence at the table things between me Z and L still stayed pretty chatty and friendly. They asked me about school and continued to probe me for cultural experiences. They laughed when I shuddered at the idea of eating the head of the shrimp--and later at Z's like of fish heads--and they shuddered when I described Czernina--a Polish soup made from duck blood. It was altogether pleasant except for V. She soon retreated back to her den though. Apparently the liveliness was too much for her.

Today I slept in, didn't really do any homework--which I shall feel the wrath of tomorrow. I contemplated going straight to the Solano Stroll this morning, but I felt alone and bored and, of course, depressed because I was bored. So at 2, I decided I wanted to go and I wasn't going to sit around a miss the opportunity to experience life. Yay me! And since I had such a great time with them on Saturday, I invited Z and L with me.

So we walked the two miles (maybe even more) to Solano on the Ohlone Greenway which runs under the Bart. When we got to Solano about fourty minutes later, it was still packed. There was so much to take in. They had bands playing and interesting things to see. And of course there was food and drinks and stuff for sale. It was pretty great. I took some pictures. I'm getting tired, so perhaps it's just best to look at them. I don't think I could adequately describe the excitement. Stroll Album.

Rhizopus has claimed my Naan

Despite my ear ache and the noises of the freeway and the wind battering my windows, I must admit, I slept wonderfully last night. I was nice and warm--though by no means too warm--and I slept a deep and dreamless sleep...well, for most of the night. So I awoke this morning with the belief that the luck of such a good night's rest would carry through into the late morning. Did it? Not really. I go to make the world's greatest sandwich at 10:30am this morning--I make sandwiches on weekends instead of eating breakfast; I'm weird--and I discover the naan I was going to smother hummus on top of had been claimed by bread mold. Well, you know what, rhizopus, fuck you! So I used the sub-par bread that while good in nourishment and virtue is no naan and doesn't taste good with hummus. Instead of having the world's greatest sandwich, I was forced to have...a sandwich. I can't complain, for mine are better than most, and it was satisfying none the less. But it was just a sandwich.

Now what does the world's greatest sandwich consist of, you might ask? Well, it is this: A piece of Tandoori naan cut in half and smothered on one side with Mediterranean hummus, on the other side with Wasabi Mayonnaise. I then lay once piece of the cheese of my liking--this time it was cheddar--onto the side with the mayo and I pile a few pieces of deli meat--or even left over meat from last night's roast--onto the side with the hummus. Lay one piece on top of the other, top it off with a red plum and some diet coke and you've got yourself one hell of a meal.

Tonight I'm having dinner with my house mates. Two of them are these awesome Chinese gals who are older than me, but great none the less, and the other is a 60 year old nursing student/recluse who kind of scares me. I'm sure she's a good person, she's just creepy and not very friendly. At least to me, she isn't. And I've never seen her act very friendly toward my other house mates either. Maybe she's a vampire. It's a possibility.

We have Mormons!!

So today after staring at Mr. Zexy in anthro, I skipped on home to chow down some lunch. I was going to stay on campus until choir sectionals at 4:15, but I was hungry and there really wasn't much to do since I didn't have my computer. So I came home, talked to mom and Sara a bit and realized...shit, I haven't even begun to take notes on my Calc book. And since Calculus and I are officially back on, I suppose I owe him that much. So I sit down and begin to take notes. Well, 5 minutes later, I make some space on my bed to curl up and take notes. I have an ear ache and it's cold and windy here and, well, I'm the curl up in bed kind of person. (Yes, I'm the type of person who wears PJs all the time at home, and looks like hell most of the time too, because I'm really low maintenance. Go me!) This was at 2pm. At 3:55, I wake up, my face squashed against my calc book--see, he likes to spoon, it's the perfect relationship--and realize I should have left at least 10 minutes ago for sectionals. So I get to sectionals ten minutes late. Luckily, I was still marked as being there and no one said anything.

Overall, choir sectional was amazing. I miss singing so much and I'm so glad I've finally got involved in that aspect. We're singing some pretty awesome songs right now. Respect, God Only Knows, Moon River, You Are the Sunshine of my Life, I Got Rhythm, and Can't Take My Eyes Off You. The theme for the concert is Jukebox and it works. What's even better is: I CAN STILL READ MUSIC! Oh yeah! Still, I'm going to take a musicianship class through the Choral Organization. Can't decide if I should take the beginner class--as a refresher--or if I should just take Intermediate. I may take both for the hell of it. It'll give me something to do and kill time since the days it's offered are right before Choral rehearsal! Less time to be bored and mindless, the better. I like being busy, what can I say.

On the other side of the club/organization front, I've been contemplating if I should join the Tennis Club or the Cooking Club. Tennis club is cheaper, but I've never actually played tennis--which they say isn't a problem. Hmmm...don't know about that. I'm leaning toward the cooking club because there I won't have to ask, "Do I look like a fat ass on the court?" since cooking has to do with loving food. And I love food. Decisions, decisions. I could go survey what some of the tennis club members look like on Monday and if I don't feel comfortable, I'll just do the Cooking Club. Why am I doing this to myself? I'll do both. Who cares what people think of my ass!?

Anyways, back to the real reason I'm posting. When I got home from sectionals today I noticed something wedged in the door frame. And this is what it was: A MORMON TRACT! I love it! My hometown is full of Mormans, and though I don't agree with them religiously, they're some of the most awesome people I know. This is SO exciting!! I shall treasure this forever!

Odd conversations on campus

So I'm walking to my car after a particularly good Calculus discussion in which I understood everything but the last four minutes--if you were there, you'd be just as lost. Anyways, back to the important part of my subject: I was walking down to my car and I passed what I assume was a gaggle of grad students all chattering in pairs like most graduate students who deem themselves very important and I hear this odd snippet of conversations, "I was thinking of using the crowbar, but the impact would be too [and this is the part where his voice fades]." Now, it is very easy to make assumptions on such a vague quote, and you know what they say about assumptions. But if you don't, here's a refresher: When you assume you make an ASS out of U and ME. However, as I am already an ass most of the time, here's my take on it: You have a very pompous grad student (given). My guess is he's a Literature major or something of the sort (assumed because of the direction he was coming from). So obviously he was writing a book--probably some murder mystery if my other assumption is correct. But the thing that really makes me proud is that he could have accepted that the crowbar was a decent--if not inventive--way to kill someone, however, he contemplated like it really matter. And that is why I go to a prestigious university.

Oh, calc, I love to loath thee, and I yearn to love thee

Well, at least one relationship in my life seems to be making some headway. Last Friday, I had quite the argument with Calculus. He could not explain epsilon-delta limits and their purpose in dummy speak for the life of him. While this may seem like nothing to most, I can't stand it. It seems like he's always trying to speak over me. So, needless to say, the argument didn't end well. In fact, it ended with me shouting, "Fuck you, Calculus," and slamming the book shut on his pale face. Well today, he was very eager to get back into my good graces. He was so eager, that he picked a topic he knew we could enjoy together. So, after careful consideration I've decided, pending how he behaves Friday, we're back on.

First day of choral rehearsal was today. It went well. It's surprising how much I miss singing. I never thought it played such an important part in my life, but indeed, it does. And it fills up some of the empty spaces of my schedule, which is even better! And next, I have a tennis club meeting! Go me! I love being involved and feeling like I'm more than brains and time.

In other news. I don't know if it's just a so cal thing, but I'm a total vans whore and this will never change--no matter my change in location. So in honor of my good mood, here's a picture of my prides of joy!

2am, 3am, 4am, 5

I can't sleep. I feel tired. I get exhausted and lay myself to sleep. But it's not that simple. The sound from the neighbors and the cars and the freeway and the train and the night life don't wake me. Perhaps it's this voice inside of me screaming, "this isn't home." Well, no, it's not home, but I suppose home will have to wait. I don't remember having this kind of trouble in the dorms. Maybe back then I was just so emotionally exhausted that I didn't pay any heed.

So I woke up an hour early this morning. It actually gave me more time to get ready. I even blow dried my hair and put make up on *le gasp!* Though I'm not quite sure if there's any point in wearing make up here. As I trudge the far spread campus, beads of sweat wash it away. Especially this morning.

It's a cool morning outdoors. I even deemed it necessary to wear a light sweater. But once I stepped inside Mulford, it became so warm that the heavy air weighed down my chest and choked all the cool breath out of me. It's so f-ing hot in here. I keep staring at the door. Ten minutes left. Perhaps I shall escape a few moments early. I have to meet Lydia to bring her my leg warmers anyways....yes, indeed. I think in a few moments I shall skieve off the remaining few minutes of Shakespeare in this copper kettle.