People watching can be frightening

So I'm at the Metropolitan Museum of Art today with Granny, and we're sitting on the stairs outside waiting for her friend to meet us when something rather shiny catches my eye - yes, you guessed it; a New York woman wearing a shimmery metallic dress. Next I noticed that she was walking rather strangely, with her trendy shopping bags on her arms and her hands flipped up. She looked like a Park Avenue wife on a shopping trip with her monthly allowance. Also, there were at least four other ladies in similarly elegant (and very out-there) garb, all with their cute little shopping bags. I watched them and talked to Granny about them, both of us agreeing "There are really people like that?" While we discussed this, the ladies crossed the street again as the Walk light turned, and stopped in the middle of the street, faced the cars, and stayed there until the Don't Walk light turned on. They continued to do this, making various poses, after each light change. I was somewhat astonished when I looked around and saw that nobody was taping them for a movie or anything like that (although curious pedestrians did pull out their cameras for a few shots).

Our conclusion was that the ladies were paid by the companies of the shopping bags to parade around carrying the bags. I think the ultimate question should be: why would anybody want to be like those ladies? If I buy things from those stores, and risk becoming like them, am I doomed to walk halfway across every crosswalk and pose for taxis before crossing the entire street? And will my Park Avenue husband provide for me even when he discovers my illicit love affair with the pool boy?

I should probably not pursue a career in medicine

So yesterday me and my homies (Granny, Roommate, and "Steve") smoked in my room and then I went to the kitchen to get water and next thing I know, "Steve" comes to the sink and starts rinsing blood off his hand... He wounded himself with a splinter. Apparently he ripped it out of his finger using his teeth (!) and it wouldn't stop bleeding. At this point I was so stoned that I started freaking out. Even after rinsing the blood off his hand, it kept coming out. Then he said he needed to go lie down. This whole time I kept saying "You need to call somebody! Why aren't we calling somebody?" And he kept saying: "I'll just wait a little while" which made no sense to me. If you're dying, why should you wait until you're more dead to call someone to fix you? When "Steve" went home, I was convinced he was going to die before morning.

Apparently though, it was just a splinter wound. And I felt better after eating a donut and muffin and falling asleep.

The interesting factor

So, school has been pretty interesting for the first couple weeks. However, I'm a little skeptical about whether it can continue being interesting for much longer. It's interesting having so many new people on campus, who are either new to the school or went abroad last year.

The freshmen at this school are both cool and crap. Why cool?
- They're friendly
- They're not too artsy
- Younger people listen to you

Why crap?
- They're cliquey
- They're pretty boring
- They think that you'll listen to them
- They're spoiled rich brats
- They're snobby about drugs ("Oh my gosh, you smoke out of a pipe? I only smoke blunts")

The problem with maintaining the interesting is that when all these people try to have a small gathering - a party, if you will - campus security comes and breaks it up. People were trying to get around this annoyance by registering their parties with the school and making it so that people under 21 couldn't get alcohol. (That's not what happened but in theory...) And the school STILL broke up that party. So last night people have a registered, drug free dance party, with a DJ and tons of people dancing and having fun, completely sans alcohol. And campus security broke up that party too. Apparently the number of people was a "fire hazard" and the DJ got cited for "misconduct" (being too loud...).

So a year that starts out full of cool-sounding parties will probably die down to the ever-familiar stark boredom by next weekend. Why? Because people will give up.* This school sucks.

* I suppose I'm giving up too, but it's disappointing and I take rejection like McDonalds makes healthy meals: not very well.

Guests have never been this gay

Yo, this is Granny. I've been drinking a little, otherwise I wouldn't be telling this story. I met a guy another day, and he was really cute. We got along great, lalala, I developed a little crush. Flash forward to last night, and L12 and I are getting high with a couple guys in his grade. She starts teasing me for being in love with him, and one of the guys asks in disbelief, "you mean [Troot] from earlier?"

Um yeah... What, is he gay? Girlfriend? The guy cracks up when he realizes we're serious, and then he says it.

"He's a girl."


Now I'm the lesbian of the group. Awesome. Stand aside Rips.

I want intricate, delicate, and powerful parts!

As I was researching the affect on marijuana on metabolism, I came across the always lovely site ask Alice, where a lot of people ask questions and receive answers that might not help them. For example, when a student asks Alice how to avoid a hangover, Alice basically gives advice that would negate the point of drinking. Things like eat a lot before you drink, "Drink for the right reasons" (thanks Mom...), don't drink quickly... So basically, nobody's going to get drunk.

Anyway then I ran across this cute little question. Here is a selection of the great advice from Alice about a guy's girlfriend:

"Dear Alice,
I really don't know where the clitoris is. I have tried many times to touch my girlfriend's clitoris, but she can't feel anything. What can I do now?
— Searching for the Wild Clitoris

Dear Searching for the Wild Clitoris,
Alice is delighted that you are searching for your girlfriend's clitoris, since that is her pleasure center, or "joy button." ... A health care provider can also show your girlfriend where her clitoris is.
Female anatomy can be pretty confusing since there is a lot going on "down there." Women, unfortunately, are not encouraged to look at their vulva and identify their many intricate, delicate, and powerful parts.
The other thing to think about is what IS happening when you are with your girlfriend, rather than what ISN'T happening. Are you both feeling pleasure, valuing being together, each feeling cherished and special? Do you enjoy each other's caresses?"

Oh Alice, you are so wise...

Responsible, college adult? I want to take a nap

So I'm running for a Senate position at my school, I'm auditioning for an a capella group, and seeing if I can help in a student show. But a part of me is a little afraid of doing all those things. And by that, I mean that I'm lazy.

But seriously, I can't decide which it is. Lazy or scared. I think I'm depending on some of these groups to not accept me, which might make my life a lot easier.

And for my film making class, I'm going to make the opposite of a promotional video for the school. A mockumentary... reasons not to come here. There are so many, and I only get 5 minutes.

Well la di freakin da...

So this is the first week of classes. It's such a different world here. Not having a nice house to stay in and a car to get me from place to place.

I went to a party with my good friend Granny and another friend. It was actually a real party, on this campus. That is NOT normal. And I went completely stoned. I really was barely capable of walking. but it was a great feeling to try. So we went to the party and as soon as we got in, I started getting sensory overdosed. I just looked around, somewhat stunned, and then turned to Granny and saw her doing the same thing. I don't think stoned people are ready for parties. Another thing they're not ready for? Conversations with people who are sober. I started talking to a guy from one of my classes and in the middle of the conversation I started wondering if he was gay. Something I'd never noticed before, all of a sudden very clear. Thanks, weed!

With enough marijuana smoking, maybe I could be a detective!

Pit of doom

So I get back to school and oh yes my friend. I'm already in the crappy "Woe is me" place. My liquid laundry detergent broke over the summer in my storage bin and got all over my pictures and my printer. My room has no closet. I left medicine for my skin at home. I can't find my house key. And now, for the second year, I didn't get the classes I want. I have to re-register, which means I have to interview (yes, we interview) for classes again and pick and fucking sigh. And I got the crappiest housing number in the whole school last year.

I heart life.

Oh and I get to eavesdrop on people with conversations like this again:

"I fucking hate work. Who invented it?! It was probably the mormons... I hate the Amish." -- some pretentious fuck I eavesdropped on. Dumb bitch.