Any College Student

Sunday, April 23, 2006

What work?

Ways to procrastinate:

1. Go to a friend's house and drink a forty
2. Go to a friend's house and smoke a bowl
3. Spend half the night giving cigarettes away because you're not a smoker but your aquaintances are
4. Sleep in
5. Catch up on other peoples' blogs.
6. Try to find new blogs to read. (This is actually very time-consuming because most peoples' blogs suck ass)
7. Watch the Japanese thriller you didn't know was a Japanese thriller when you checked it out from the school library
8. Do laundry (!)
9. Shop online
10. Find radio stations that stream online
11. Talk to anyone on campus who will carry a conversation with you
12. Write a blog entry...

Damn. Maybe now I have to get to work?

... Nah

Tuesday, April 18, 2006

Housemates: the long term, the short term

Tonight I picked my housing for next year. I got a single (finally!) in an 8 person house, and I know 2 other people in the house. Exhibit A: current roommate, who will live down the hall from me. Exhibit B: friend from Senate, who can be kind of boring but pretty nice.

I found out that my (current) housemate slept with a guy that is totally hot and I am loving the gossip. We plan to have a fun weekend with some sort of alcohol and trendy clothing involved. Maybe trendy alcohol, too.

I got Sex and the City season 3 on Friday, and finished it last night. How's that for speedy? I was even trying to hold back. Clearly that worked great.

Sunday, April 16, 2006

Take the bad with the good

Bad count:
1. Did not get my housing choice
2. Did not get an internship I applied for
3. Had to wipe my computer and reinstall Windows
3b. Had problems with my "good as new" computer including no sound, strange-looking graphics, and frustrating new antivirus software

Good count:
1. Had a dream that I got my housing choice after all
2. Have 2 more internships I have not heard back from yet (more opportunities for rejection = always a good thing)
3. In the middle of a film history screening of the most boring movie EVER (Jean Luc Godard's Tout Va Bien), my friend left out of disgust for the French. Shortly after she left, a photo of a man's penis being touched by a woman's hand graced the screen. For approximately 2 minutes, this image remained on the screen. This was perhaps the best part of my day. The French may not be so bad after all.

Friday, April 14, 2006

Ape teacher, you shall be smoten. Smited?

Let me introduce us all to a man that I'm going to call Ape Teacher. Why? Well, he really does look like an ape. And also, it's a psychology class about biosociology and evolution, etc... Thirdly, I have doubts that he is fully human.

I hate his class with a passion. He never leads the class, but has students lead the class. The students in the class are opinionated assholes, and they don't listen to anybody until someone agrees with them. And after meeting with him, I feel like I understand what's going on even less than I did before.

When I revealed my frustrations about my classmates, Ape Teacher told me that he had noticed that I was frustrated and that he hoped I wouldn't be discouraged from participating in future class discussions. I felt triumphant; Ape Teacher may have started to understand that I am correct and everyone else in the class is an idiot of immense proportions.

Then the other day, Apey emailed me saying:

"I continued to think last week that you were a little bit less dispassionate than you could be when you spoke. I feel a little bad saying this because in general I think passion is a good thing, but I do know that various students in our class have felt pressure not to speak their minds because of ways that various other students have reacted, so I'm trying to tone down everyone's reactions, so as to allow everyone (you included) to feel comfortable expressing themselves verbally. So tomorrow (and from here on out), just try, if you would, to be aware of your nonverbal reactions (for example, various things that I've seen from various students include exasperated sighs, eye-rolling, frowns, etc)."

Apey is asking me to stop having opinions, stop being frustrated when people interrupt me, and stop trying to defend myself when people put down my opinions. The only time that I have nonverbal reactions of sighing, eye-rolling, or frowning is when people don't listen to me.

Before leading today's class discussion, my partner and I spent about two hours detailing what a shame it is that people like those in our class exist. As the only sane people in the class, we are both shocked and apalled that Apey is actually being paid to complain to students and be such a poor moderator of the classroom.

Tuesday, April 11, 2006

You came to the right place, pt 2

I had a great time at the library this morning. Right as a huge college tour came in, one of my coworkers made fun of me for wearing my work name tag, and for some reason I found this highly amusing and so I started laughing hysterically. I then found it funny that I was laughing about a comment as stupid as the one he had just made, and continued to laugh. I convinced myself that my laughter was only contributing to a good image of the school. Obviously the students here are all happy, laughing, and perky - even at 8:30am!

People found my blog this week by searching for things such as "hot sexy college student" (thank you!), "throating beer bottle" (yes, I'm still proud of that), "girl gets raped by a white student" (sorry, but she was asking for it wearing that short short skirt), and "student + eat + gross" (i'm trying to cut down, okay? I'm sorry).

Overall, I'm pretty satisfied.

Sunday, April 09, 2006

I didn't do it, it was the dress!

So... I went to the Spring Formal. It was very cold outside. I considered not going, but realized that it wasn't a possibility to try that because I had asked my mom to ship me the dress I was going to wear, all the way from the west coast. So imagine how great that would make her feel: "How was the dance?" "Oh, I didn't go. It was a little cold outside."

So I went, and I danced the night away in my west coast dress. You know all those people who can be at a dance or a party and just run from one group of people to the next and dance with anyone they want, and you can't dance with them for more than one song because they have places to be, dammit? Well I fantasized about being one of those people, until I realized that I wasn't drunk and didn't know enough people in the room to try that out. At one point all the people I was with went outside and I had no idea what to do other than go sit down.

After the dance, we went to an "after party". Sounds amazing, right? Well when we got there, what was happening but - lo and behold - more dancing.

This morning I wake up not with a hangover in the regular sense, but a shoe hangover. I had forgotten how much women are willing to do for a cute outfit.

Thursday, April 06, 2006

Teachers: things not to say

I was recently given my dad's palm pilot. It's amazing. I put my entire schedule in it, which is helpful when you're making a film. And I put a to-do list in, and peoples' phone numbers... So complete is my trust in my palm pilot, that this morning I was very confused when my phone rang. Who could it be? I picked up and, lo and behold, I had missed a meeting with my favorite teacher. That's right. And of course, my palm pilot is not to blame. It looks at me disapprovingly, shaking its little screen and saying "Why didn't you tell me?" Sigh.

Today I went to a theatre show. 3 short plays. I sat next to a theatre teacher and chatted him up (no, not for sex, but because he's in the theatre department and teaches an acting for film class. And since I make films... well... it's obvious why I would chat him up). Then on my way back to my seat during intermission, feeling proud of my networking skills, I heard someone say my name. I turned to look, and there was my advisor!

Having felt so confident in my verbal skills only a few minutes ago, I was stunned to find that nothing came to my mind, or my mouth. So, to avoid one of those awkward silent moments with head-nodding and "so..."s, I said:

"What are you doing here? Isn't it your bedtime or something?"

when that (surprisingly) did not turn into a conversation, I went with

"It's just so weird to see you outside of your office."

Smoooooth. This for the woman I asked to write me two recommendations.

Tuesday, April 04, 2006

Update: boy who does too many drugs cannot remember what happened on Saturday night. I find this amusing.

I watched season 2 of Sex and the City, for the second time. I must have a bad memory because I didn't really remember any of it. It only took me 3 days to watch. I'm impressed with myself. I should also buy another season (or another TV show) so I won't be doomed to watch it again. Donations are welcome.

Monday, April 03, 2006

Saturday night babysitting

Well, since I felt so down and out on my Friday night, on Saturday I decided to quit moping and be a man. But since there were no strap-on penises or balls lying about, I had to go to plan B: going out and seeing friends. Also, not that I'm an alcoholic or anything, but I kind of missed getting a little tipsy and saying silly things (it's been a while).

So I put on my new K Swiss shoes (that's right) and a lovely sweater, some makeup and jewelry, and headed over to the kid's room where I threw up on a bed. I walked in to greet boy whose bed I threw up on, boy who does too many drugs, and 3 other people not worth naming. Also, a bottle of tequila, a bottle of rum, a bottle of white wine, and some diet cokes. Not bad. I also got to crash the game of Kings.

However, while I could have just downed some alcohol, I felt that this would violate the drinking game: the point is only to drink when you're supposed to. And I was doing too damn good and no one was trying to make me drink more. So by the end of the game, everyone except me was wasted (roommate of boy whose bed I threw up in started puking, girl 1 took girl 2 home so she could throw up). Obviously the only missing part was being hit on by drunk people. Not to worry, it happened.

On my way out, I was introduced to a guy named Steve. He seemed nice and called me pretty, which is cool and all but kind of weird since I didn't know him and he doesn't go to my school. Then later on I heard him introduce himself as Matt to other people. Apparently, he gave me his 'fake' name. Imagine trying to get his phone number, right?

Luckily, there were also several comments from boy who does too many drugs about me having a boyfriend, followed by profuse apologies. Y'know, to make my night fun. Then I had to escort too many drugs boy back to his room where he proceeded to throw up out his window and several other people and I had to bring him water.

I felt a little bit like a babysitter for people whose idea of a good time is to force people to drink as much as possible. Next time I'll be sure to violate the drinking game rules - if only to help me imagine that the boring people are actually fun.

Saturday, April 01, 2006

You came to the right place

At first I thought it would be a bad idea to post any of the strange ways that people find my blog. But then I realized... sometimes it's funny enough to be worth it. And since my teachers aren't funny this semester, here goes..

People ran into my blog this week by searching for:

i didn't get into any college (1st page)
I want to go back to college, but I don't have any money (1st page)
Teacher being fucked by her student (1st page)
Drunk college blog (1st page)
Fresh fucked blog (4th page)

Not that I'm lucky in love...

Back in middle school, I went to international school in Europe. International school is filled with a bunch of spoiled rich kids. (It cost over $100 a day just to go there. Bus service was like $10,000 a year.) I was only there because my parents work for the government, so we got school for free (thanks for paying your taxes!).

So these spoiled rich kids didn't like me very much. Not only was I smart (aka a nerd), but I didn't shop at the GAP. So as soon as I made a best friend, that very same best friend dumped me shortly thereafter. For example, one day I walked up to my best friend Taylor and said "Hey" to which she didn't respond (I have no idea why). That's right. She never talked to me again. This happened pretty much every year I was there, and when I finally made a real friend, I moved back to the U.S. Anyway, the point is, while some have been unlucky in love, I have been unlucky in friends.

What's most encouraging is that for my film, I spent 6 hours (my Friday night) helping some of the subjects in my film put on an event. I had fun and all, but when I came home I realized I'm not actually one of their friends. So that's how I spent my Friday night. And also why my hands still smell like garlic.