We Have a New Winner

And the weirdest Google search to come up with me is . . . "Subway rubbing."

Are you as scared as I am?

Quote

"You take it up the ass a couple of times, and suddenly you just know how to dress"
- my friend Phil, on his fashion ability

Oberlin Life

So, I'm back in Oberlin. My house is crazy - we have no phone or internet, so we had to call the phone company from Julie's wacky 80's car phone, and the phone company wanted an emergancy phone number and we were like "We don't have a phone number, that's why we're calling you!" Also, it's going to cost us about a billion dollars. But we should have a phone on the 5th. In the meantime, people keep asking for my phone number, and I'm like "I don't have one." It's kind of fun for no one to be able to contact me, though.

We had two boys squatting in our house, Ben and Chris, and they had a lot of fun grounding our electricty for us and using my power drill. (It wasn't grounded. Our house is super ghetto. I see a lot of home repairs in our future. I think our landlord should be paying us.)

I'm still unpacking, and I'm so sick of everything, I just want all my possesions to go away. I do not need them at all, they just take up space and I hate them.

Shit Got Fucked Up.

Blogger turned one missing character into two hours of cursing until I finally got the problem fixed. I had to reboot my computer, people. That's how much it sucked. I am tired. My eyes don't focus anymore. The world looks kind of like an impressionist painting.

The post below is from yesterday and thus is out of order - I deleted it and reposted it in my quest to get things fixed.

Big Words

Today I used in conversation, without even thinking about it, both the word serendipitous and the word altercation. I am the biggest dork in the world.

Drag Show

(Note: This is all out of order because I posted it yesterday and then posted a bunch of shit today, and then managed to totally fuck everything up and thus had to delete the original post. If you've already read it, I've updated since then, so just skip it. Life in the Pink regrets any inconvience this may have caused you, please come again.)

I went to gay club called Ozz with Jeffie and some other people tonight. There was a drag show, which rocked. I think drag queens are the hottest things on the planet, which is pretty unfortunate for me, when you think about it. There's just something about the combination of hyper feminity with masculinity hidden underneath it that I find very attractive. I love wild drag queen clothes, but these particular girls were wearing normal hoochie outfits. It's funny - if I saw a girl dressed the way these guys are, I would be very turned off, disgusted and/or frightened. But since it's guys I'm like "Damn, that's hot!" I don't think it's just the androgny, since I'm not turned on by butch women (well, not many butch women). I think maybe it's partly the fact that drag queens tend to be tall and skinny, and I'm attracted to tall skinny men. (But not tall, skinny girls. Go figure.)

So, the drag show was in honor of Aliyah, since she's all dead and shit. Before it started the MC was like "We're going to have a minute of silence in order of Aliyah," and I immediately thought to myself, "Goddamit, I'm squooshed sitting here on the floor, I don't give a shit about dead popstars, make with the drag queens already." But then the MC, whose name is Raja, came out, and started telling us this story about how she once did Aliyah's make up, and she started crying, and I immediately felt bad about being such a cold, heartless little shit. Nothing is sadder than the tears of a drag queen, people.

Raja also taught us how to say "tight pussy" in sign language. You can rest assured I'll be putting that knowledge to good use.

Cyn's Last Day In Town

I go back to Oberlin Wednesday at 6:00 in the morning. I'm excited. I can't wait to see my girls and my gayboys and the Lesbian Kitten. I can, on the other hand, wait for school to start. I still don't know if I've gotten into the two Creative Writing courses I need to complete the major. If I haven't, The Littlest Elf and I are getting black ski masks and holding the entire Creative Writing department hostage on top of the administration building. We're going to kill a professor an hour until they agree to our demands to actually be able to take some writing classes. On a better note, I have one job already, and it's looking like I'll be able to get another one. (Both will be grading Computer Science classes. I'm so excited! I love grading. Cause I'm a dork. A broke dork.)

I'm both sad and happy to be leaving Pedro. It was actually much better seeing my friends than I expected. They all made me feel really loved, and I had forgotten how much I liked spending time with some of them. But I can definitely feel myself getting sucked into the Pedro drama, and I really don't want to be. I've escaped from High School, and that's how I like it. I wish I had gotten to spend more time with my parents, and also that they had spent less time nagging me to do unpleasant things. But such is life.

More Adventures from the Referral Log

So, Life As It Happens, which didn't have a link to me, now does (Thanks, Rodney), and life is now a little bit more meta, thanks to the wonders of the internet. (Is this meta? Or just confusing? I'm fairly sure it's not ironic.)

The weirdest searches to find me so far: "egyption fucking" and "abandoned insane asylums" (this kind of makes sense, since I mentioned my exploring one a while ago). It's fairly clear from the text Google gives that I won't be very helpful, so I wonder why people click. Oh, well, I'm glad they do.

Someone also searched for "'my hair is blue' school pink", which isn't that weird, except that they were using german Google. If you are that person, and you actually live in Germany, is it cool? I'm kind of considering moving there, in a "if I tell people I'm moving to Germany, I don't have to figure out what I'm going to do once I graduate" sort of a way." I took German for a semester, but most of what I remember how to do is curse. (I'm the same way with Spanish.) That, and I go to a hippie school, so I also know the word for environment. (It's "Umwelt.") It's arguably as useful to be able to say "The environment is a slut" (Das Umwelt ist eine Schlumpe) as "Your aunt is on the desk," or whatever those other classic things people remember from language class are, but that's still not very helpful at all. I can, however, ask for beer. (Deutsch: "Ein Bier, bitte." Espanol: "Un cerveza, por favor.") And probably for sluts, as well. (Deutsch: "Eine Schlumpe, bitte." Espanol: "Una puta, por favor.")

Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back

I saw this movie today. (Yes, today is movie review day here at Life in the Pink.) I'm a big Kevin Smith fan, Chasing Amy is my favorite, and I totally love Dogma. This movie wasn't his greatest work, though. It was very clever and meta and masturbatory. However, there was a monkey, and monkeys are always funny, and the movie references were by and large amusing. Just don't expect, you know, characters or anything. The love interest is Shannon Elizabeth, for Christ's sake. (She's tall, she's skinny, she's got big tits, she's vaguelly attractive. That is her part in every movie I've seen her in. We get it, already.)

So, I've mocked this movie on the internet, now Jay and Silent Bob get to come beat me. I've got big tits, though, so I might be safe.

Hedwig and the Angry Inch

I saw Hedwig and the Angry Inch the other day, and it totally rocked my world. I love this movie! I totally want the movie poster and the video and to be Hedwig. (Well, okay, maybe not the botched sex change operation, but the clothes and the attitude and the glib phrases and the accent. "I was doing some jobs that we call blow," heh heh.) You must see this movie!

It was especially fun for me since I've had the CD from the show forever, and know all the songs by heart, and love them, and wanted to see the show forever but didn't get to because cool shit doesn't come to Ohio. Hedwig rocks my fucking world.

All Grown Up

I unclogged my toilet today. It happened like, half an hour ago, and it was all disgusting and crazy and I was freaking out and I would have totally screamed for my mommy but it was 4:30 in the morning, and mommy's do not like being awakened by their almost grown children at obscene times in the morning to unclog toilets, especially when said children are wired on adderall and reek of cigarettes. So I opened a can of whoop ass on it with the plunger, and unclogged it! Whoo!

(Yes, I know you would probably rather not know about these sorts of things, but I feel the first sucessful toilet unclog is an important event in any young girl's life.)

Porn

Nerve has retro porn, and I find it much, much hotter than modern porn (especially the photo shoot of porn star Houston, who is actually creepy.). Although the redhead is pretty cute, though too skinny. I like her haircut.

Weirdness from the Referral Log

Two Google Searches: "pink hair girl pictures" and "pink hair on people" (As opposed to what? Pink hair on cats?). It's nice to know I'm someone's fetish, I suppose, but also vaguelly creepy.

I've gotten several hits from Life As It Happens, but can't for the life of me find a link to me on that page. This is driving me nuts! I keep scouring the page, looking for a link. Arrrrghhhhh. (I am a crazed link whore.)

The Day Before Yesterday

I went out with Evan, an ex-boyfriend of mine (but not my significant ex). It was a total blast. I had forgotten how much fun he was, and how alike we are. (Once, while explaining drunkenly to my ex-girlfriend why I had revealed the fact I was dating her to Evan, I said "But . . . he's me!") The good thing about being twenty-one is that instead of meeting your friends and going to catch up at a coffee shop, you can meet your friends and go to catch up at a bar. We ended up going to this kind of dive-y bar and sitting around drinking and talking about sex and San Pedro and reality TV until two in the morning.

His new girlfriend has a website where she talks about them having sex a lot, which I find very amusing. Apparently he's improved a lot since me. Also, he seems to date the same type of girl over and over again, which is fitting, since I tend to date the same type of boy over and over, but odd, since he isn't the type of boy I date at all. (He's not gay OR a total nutbar!)

Hello Kitty Addiction

I spent $53 at the Sanrio store today on various school supplies and a new purse. If I ever end up giving hand jobs on the street, it won't be for crack, it'll be for Hello Kitty products. But man, will I be the cutest little whore out there, with my pink hair in pigtails and everything I own with one of Hello Kitty's friends on it.

Why Going Home Is Weird

All my friends now have these weird connections to each other. My ex-boyfriend and my ex-girlfriend hang out all the time, and my ex-boyfriend has a crush on my ex-girlfriend, but my ex-girlfriend finds it vaguelly creepy. My gayboy has a friend with benefits who's really good friends with my ex-girlfriend (and thus knows my ex-boyfriend). My ex-girlfriend is really good friends with the sister of one of my good friends from high school. None of these people hung out together when I was living here! It's downright freaky.

Everyone I go out with hits on me. Granted, I've already slept with a bunch of these people, but it's still odd.

Yay, gayboys!

Just got back from hanging out with my friend Jeffie. He's totally awesome - gave me crazy gossip about all the shit that's been going down in Pedro. We went to this gay coffee shop in Long Beach. Of course, I'd never been there before, because I was a total loser in high school. It annoys me when I think about what a good time I could have had in high school if I wasn't such a fucking dork. Oh, well. Anyway, hung out with Jeffie and his friend Kevin, who was also really cool.

I got lost both going to and from Jeffie's house, even though I've been there approximately a million times. For some reason, the location of Jeffie's house always gets me all disoriented and crazy. Also, I was wearing this short dress that used to be my mom's (She made it. It's really cool, it's this crazy fabric with all these brightly colored leaves and birds on it. I can't really do it justice through discription, but rest assured, it is cool.), and fishnets, and these shoes I just bought while thrift shopping with my mommy yesterday. The shoes are Shoes of the Future, they're black hightop sneaker/boot things with really thick soles and velcro straps on top. I already own one pair of Shoes of the Future, but these were $3 brand new at Salvation Army, and if there's one thing I cannot resist, it's Futuristic Shoes. Well, Futuristic Shoes and Hello Kitty. Anyway, the shoes were kind of hard to drive in, and the steering wheel kept almost snagging on my fishnets. Plus, my windows were all fogged up on the drive home.

Of course, it took Jeffie about a million years to get dressed and all these random people showed up while I was waiting for him. Then we went to get Kevin, and at his house a small dog jumped on my and promptly snagged my fishnets, causing me to wish death to all small dogs, even though I usually think they're cute. (Do not worry, my fishnets are fine.) Then we went and got coffee and talked shit about everyone and a good time was had by all.

Fun With Hit Logs!

Someone found this site by searching for "trip on acid" in Google. Let's hope that it was a nice friendly druggie kid, and not the police, shall we? Oh, and if it was the police, this is all a work of fiction. Yes. It is satire. I do not do bad bad things. I promise.

Random Thoughts about VH1's Top Twenty Video Whatever

J. Lo is starting to grow on me in a disturbing way.

Mariah Carey has not aged well at all. That woman has been rode hard and put away wet. Maybe it's the skanky clothes. They look constricting.

This whole thing would be a lot less annoying if they just showed the videos, instead of doing that annoying talking in the middle of them thing.

Yawn!

I was completely exhausted today - to the point that I was actually falling asleep while attempting to hold conversations. The weird thing is that I actually got nine hours of sleep last night, and I drank a cup of coffee in the morning. I haven't been that physically tired for non-drug induced reasons since high school. Of course this happens when I'm fresh out of uppers. I don't even have ephedrin, for christ's sake. (Hmmm. I'm gaining sudden insight onto why I haven't been this tired since high school. Better living through chemistry.) I'm blaming either the sudden maelstrom of negative emotion my life has become in the last twenty-four hours thanks to my ex's, or the sudaphed I took for my allergies. Fortunately when I got home my mommy had bought Diet Coke. (She remembered I like it! She's so sweet. Yay, mommy!)

News of Overwhelming Importance

According to the LA Times, Sanrio and Paul Frank are teaming up to make products that feature both Hello Kitty and Julius the Monkey. Obviously, this has huge implications for us all, for products of such combined cuteness are obviously a sign of either the onset of a Utopia where there will be no war and hunger and cute fluffy bunnies will frolic everywhere, or the coming Apocalypse (or possible both, depending on how you feel about cute fluffy bunnies). However, it has deeper implications for me, personally, as well as all the other "girl-women" Sanrio is targeting with this. If I had, say, a shoulder bag featuring Julius and Hello Kitty riding a motorbike (Is that a Vespa? Who was the focus group on this? People who know what Cyn likes?), I would be forced to stop leaving my house and spend all my time sitting around in a euphoria-like state contemplating it's incredible cuteness. On the other hand, this is Paul Frank, so said shoulder bag will most likely cost around a bazillion dollars.

The only possible solution to this will be for me to go purchase these products in Canada, where I can convince myself that I'm getting a bargain because the incredibly expensive product I don't need would be approximately a third more expensive if I were Canadian. (Yes, I'm dumb. But at least I realize how dumb I am, and use it to my own advantage.)

Cyn Hate Allergies!

Cyn hate runny nose! Cyn hate itchy eyes! Cyn hate itchy throat!

Cyn like cute doggy. Cute doggy like Cyn's room. Cute doggy like Cyn's car. Cute doggy like everything that Cyn owns. Cute doggy like spreading doggy allergens all over everything surrounding Cyn.

Cyn talk in third person. Allergies suck that bad.

(All "Cyn hate _______" statements should be said in the Radiskull voice.)

Hey, Look At That!

My school is one of Newsweek's Hot Schools. You know what this means, right? Yes, that's right, I am now both cooler and smarter than you are. Ha!

My Parents Are the Coolest People on Earth

How cute are my parents? My Daddy baked me a pie yesterday. A strawberry and blackberry pie! And there was whipped cream to go on top of it, and it was super, super yummy. This was after my Mommy made dinner that involved pasta with portabello mushrooms and artichokes. My father is totally cute about making pies, too. He has become the pie baker because my mother is a diabetic and doesn't get involved with desserts, and he's gotten really into it and is on the quest to make "a strawberry pie like [his] mom used to make" and is all worried about tough crusts and getting clear glazes and stuff. It's so adorable. And I get pie! Pie! My parents love me. And they feed me.

Return of the Oberlin Story

Oberlin, Day 2:
I woke up in the morning and decided to shower, since it had been a while and I was feeling like a dirty little girl. So I get in the shower, pull the faucet out to turn it on . . . and it comes off in my hand. At this point in time I realize I have no shower, no food, no phone, no bedding, don't know when any of my friends are going to show up, and I have five dollars that has to last me until Monday (this was Sunday) when I could deposit money in the bank.

I threw on some random clothes and feeling very dirty and stinky walked to Gibson's, the Oberlin convience store, where I proceded to wander around for half and hour trying to find vegetarian food that I could afford and would be able to prepare, and stinking up the joint. And of course, since it's Oberlin, there's some random dude I got drunk and made out with at drag ball two years ago wandering around and witnessing stanky slobby Cynthia.

I went back home, made food (instant noodles in butter sauce), and consumed food, and was sitting on my stoop having a smoke when Rachel arived. My day promptly improved a gazillion percent. We went to the movies and saw American Pie 2, which was amusing. But then, I'm a sucker for teen comedies. Also, there's lots of band geek dirty sex jokes, and being a (non-band) geek and fan of dirty sex, I enjoy those immensely. Then we went back home and called the landlord, who sent someone over to fix the shower (it turned out it was missing a screw and the guy had to come over the next morning, but it was improvement). I had noticed that the paint in my bedroom was chipping off and pretty ugly, so I told Rachel to ask the landlord if we could paint, since she was on the phone with him anyway. This spurred an eleven o' clock Super K trip, that involved us buying paint, various other home repair items, and lots of random junk food.

Good Times.

Last Night's Drug Cocktail

Beer, Adderall, Amyl Nitrate, Nitrous, Pot. Cyn doesn't do any random drugs that come her way. Oh, no. Not at all. Now, if you'll excuse me, I think there's something over there I can fit up my nose.

Oberlin Story!

I'm planning to tell you guys about my trip to Oberlin, but I am lazy and easily distracted by shiny objects, so it may take a while. Anyway, here it is:

Oberlin, Day 1.
I got to town and had to stop by Phil and DJ's house to get the keys. I had had my subletter leave the keys with Phil, who had promptly left to go to Wisconsin for a meeting. So I show up and DJ's all "Cyn! Hey! What are you doing here?" and I was like "Uh, do you have my keys?" and he was like "What keys?" Fortunately, we found Phil's key ring, and it had a mysterious key on it, which turned out to be to my house.

So I dragged my shit into my house, and went back to DJ's, where I proceded to get drunk. A bunch of random people showed up, as people are likely to, and we all drank till the wee hours, when it ended up being me, this girl Meghan, and DJ. Then we decided that it was time to snort prescription drugs. We did Xanax and Clonapin, which is in the Valium family, but also an anticonvulsent. Clonapin is really fun to snort - it tingles, giving a menthol cigarette effect. Only in your nose. As I said at the time, "It's like there's a party in my nose, and everyone's invited!" Meghan and I ended up dancing like crazy people to random MP3s we found on DJ's computer (lots of Anamaniacs and TMBG) until DJ kicked us out at four in the morning. It was a blast. There is nothing in this world I love more than dancing like a five-year-old.

Then I stumbled back to my house, took off all my clothes, and collapsed onto my bare mattress, since all my bedding was in storage. I woke up in the middle of the night, naked, cold, and confused, and dug through my suitcase until I found suitable sleeping clothes.

I Saw My Ex-Boyfriend Yesterday

It went well. It went very well, actually. We talked about things and joked around and had a good time and came to the general consensus that although we no longer want to be a couple, we both still care about each other a lot and want to be in each other's lives. He's doing a lot better than the last time I saw him - he was really depressed and doing a lot of drugs, and the shit kind of hit the fan earlier this summer, when I wasn't around, but he seems to be doing really well now.

This boy is my Significant Ex. A Significant Ex being, in broad, definition sort of a way, the ex that matters. The one you mean when you say "my ex". The one you're not over, or the one that you are over but you still worry about, or the one you wish it wasn't over with. The Significant Ex is not necessarily the last ex, although they often are. They are the ones who most significantly broke your heart, or you broke their heart, or they didn't break your heart but just handed it back in so nice a way that you couldn't even be mad. They are the ones that you wish you could stop thinking about, or wish would stop thinking about you, or wish you had never thought about at all. They are the ones who still make your stomach upset when you think about them. They are the ones you feel guilty about thinking about when you masturbate. They are the ones you just plain feel guilty about. They are the ones that you had to realize you couldn't fix, and had to realize were breaking you. They are the ones you move to different states over. They are the ones that you can't help but yelling or crying or waving your arms when you talk about. They are Significant, and they are Exes, and they cannot be avoided.

So it was very good, it was amazing, that I had a good time hanging out with this boy. It was awesome. I'm so glad that he wants to be my friend, and that I can handle being his friend, and that he's getting his act together. It's a very good thing, because he lives in my hometown, which makes him a lot harder to run away from, summer jobs notwithstanding.

Injuries Sustained Over Five Days Spent In Oberlin

• Rather deep, unhappy looking cut on left thumb, aquired while trying to use a pair of scissors to pry open the things holding up my venetian blinds.
• Burn on right index finger, aquired by not noticing huge gaping hole in oven mitts.
• Cuts on bottoms of both feet, aquired while skinny dipping in Lake Erie. (Turns out there's some sharp rocks down there. Who knew?)
• Scrape on right thigh, aquired bumping into something while painting in my underwear.
• Various bruises all over body.

Home Improvement

So, I expected my time in Oberlin to be spent partying with my girls and just generally being a bad kid. Instead, it's been spent . . . painting. Also, mopping, scrubbing, etc. I've washed every dish in the house, swept, mopped, and painted three bedrooms. Right now, I'm working on spray painting my desk silver. This house is making me crazy. I'm like "Must make house pretty! Must make house pretty!" It's awaking strange urges for things like power drills.

(My father is over-joyed about this. I sent him an email asking if I could have a power drill, and his reply was "How much of a power drill do you want? Anything is possible.")

So, if you need me, I'll be in my pretty new blue room, covered in silver spray paint and possibly dead from the fumes.

Why Cyn Should Not Have Children

Because when I do think of children, my mind tends to run along the following paths . . .

If I had a baby, I could dye it's hair blue! That'd be so cute. I wonder if I'd have to bleach its hair. I wonder if bleach is bad for babies . . .

I wonder how old children have to be before you can teach them to mix drinks. You must be able to pack a bowl by age four or so. You'd think it'd be fairly easy for them to operate a whip-it cracker, too, but their little hands are so small . . . Yes, dear, make Mommy a gin and tonic. That's my little blue-haired wonder. Good baby.

I think it's obvious that what I need is a bartending monkey. I could carry it around in one of those baby tummy pack things, and it could mix me drinks and bring me food and wake Julie up in the mornings. I wonder if bleach is bad for monkeys . . .

Guess What I Did Last Night

I added more RAM to my linux box! Cause I am a linux fox!

She's running at 64 MB now, baby. Sexy!

Getting the Fuck Out of Dodge

I'm leaving tomorrow. I'm going to Oberlin to see my girls for a week, then back to LA to see my family for two weeks, then back to Oberlin for school. I can't wait. This means:

• No more riding the bus!
• No more stupid job.
• No more annoying housemates.
• No more being harassed on the streets.

• No more Crystl.
• No more Chrissy.
• No more Laurence.
• No more of any of the other people I know and like here.

Work Oddities

I went to the bathroom a while ago, and some woman was singing to herself while going to the bathroom, which seemed odd to me. Then again, I've been listening to punk and chair dancing for much of the morning, so I probably shouldn't talk, lest my coworkers get blogs of their own and talk about weird things I do.

("Today I went to the room with the pink-haired girl in it, and she was jerking around in her chair with headphones on, and looking at Mighty Big TV, and I had to tap her to get her attention, and then she just looked confused and said 'I dunno.' Does she ever do any work? Why haven't we shit-canned her yet?")

Time Suck

I do not work, I just read usr/bin/girl/ all day.

I Love This Band!

Flogging Molly rocks my world. They're Irish Pub Punk, and listening to them just makes you want to dance a jig. A very angry, crazy jig that you dance whilst drinking beer and smashing things. I almost went to Warped Tour yesterday to see them, but I'm broke, so I didn't. But I'm listening to Swagger right now, and it is great.

Shoes! On My Head!

I have nothing very exciting to say, so I thought I'd share this picture:

My roommate Julie (a.k.a. The Littlest Elf) took it a while ago. "What kind of face are you making?" she asked, "That's the cutest face!" "It's the 'I Have Shoes On My Head' face," I replied.

Good Morning

I'm having a really good morning. These are the reasons why:

• My hair is lovely. I did my hair in four buns evenly distributed over the sides and back of my head, and it's super cute. I've got kind of a Princess Leia thing going on.
• It's hoter than hell, but it's less humid than usual, and my hair being up is helping me stay cool.
• There were cute punker boys on the bus this morning (apparently they all take the 10 o'clock bus, which I usually don't), and lord knows I love me some cute punker boys.
• I was walking up the stairs to go to work, and I heard someone go "Hey!" and I turned around, and it was this creepy guy I met when I first got here and haven't seen until now, and rather than feeling obliged to stop and be all like "Um, sorry I threw away your number because you creeped me the fuck out lost your number, gotta go now, bye," I just waved and turned around and kept walking and felt very proud of myself for not feeling obliged to be nice to icky people.

Ohmigod, Y'all, I Just Found Where I Want To Be Married!

I have long maintained that I'm not going to get married if I can't get married by Elvis, so imagine my glee at finding the 24 Hour Church of Elvis! Now I just have to find someone to marry me.

New Project!

I need to get busy with my computer cases and spray paint. I'm thinking of doing my windows box pink with Hello Kitty, and my linux box blue with Pochacco, but I might do something with Bettie Page/pin ups instead, if I can find cool stickers/decals/pictures/whatever. I'll see what I can find at the Sanrio store at home.

In related news, I need to come up with a name for my linux box. My windows box is named Baby, but I'm not sure that I can come up with a name in that vein. Suggestions would be appreciated.

Clean Girl

It chose to rain really hard for exactly the ten minutes when I decided to leave work and walk to the bus stop. So of course I got soaked, and I'm wearing shorts and a white t-shirt, and then I went down into the subway and it was freezing. But I got home and took a warm shower and washed my hair and everything was okay and I am all squeeky clean. Well, except for parts of my feet, which I think may be permanently dirty. I actually can't tell if it's tan or dirt on them, but I think it's some sort of combination of the two. Nature is not kind to the feet of girls who walk everywhere and wear only flipflops.

Dirty Girl

I am actually literally dirty. Like, I have dirt on me. Mostly on my feet, actually. This isn't like "Aww, man, I fell in the mud" dirt. This is "Walking around and taking the bus and not showering for a while" dirt. They're doing something wacky to my bathroom, and it's causing problems. I think I'm most likely stinky, too, because it's really really hot here and I feel gross and sticky. Know when the last time I washed my hair was? Cause I don't!

You think I'm disgusting now, don't you? That's okay, I kind of am. I'm going to shower when I get home, I swear.

Peaches

This Saturday, I was walking home from the bookstore, and I walked through the farmers market and bought a pint of peaches on a whim. I ate one on the way home, and it was sweet and delicious and wonderful. I got peach juice all over my hands and my chin and in my labret piercing, and felt sweet and sticky all over. I threw my peach pit on the ground, because peach pits aren't littering, they're summer. When I got home, I put the rest of the peaches in the fridge, and every so often I eat one, or think of them, sitting in my fridge, and the possibility of eating them in the future, and it makes me happy. Potter and I each ate one yesterday, while we were stoned, and I told him that the peaches had made my week. "It's only Monday," he pointed out. "I think I'll still be happy about them on Friday," I replied.

Question

Last night, Potter and I are sitting around my room after smoking a bowl, trying to figure out what to do. I've been trying to convince him to see Legally Blonde, and then confessed that I want to see The Princess Diaries. He turns to me, and asks:

"How did you get like this? Such a mixture of everything."

Stupid Government

I am so pissed off that we outlawed human cloning. I mean, I know that right now there are a lot of weird medical conditions in clones that we don't really understand, so it probably wouldn't be cool to start cloning people until we know more about that. But that's not why they outlawed it. They're all like "Blah blah blah No Playing God blah blah blah." Like, hello, seperation of church and state, people. I don't even believe in god, I don't see why I shouldn't be able to clone people. I just think that we're making something that we don't know a hell of a lot about, and that could be a really good thing, illegal basically on the "Everyone Knows Clones are Evil" theory. Hmmm, now that I think about it, it's kind of like the war on drugs.

In related news, what the fuck is up with the new Star Wars movie being called Attack of the Clones?

Why Can't Computer Scientists Speak English?

From a paper entitled "The Data Grid: Towards an Architecture for the Distributed Management and Analysis of Large Scientific Datasets":

"We call this architecture the data grid to emphasize its role as a specialization and extension of the "Grid" that has emerged recently as an integrating infrastructure for distributed computation."

It's the alliteration of "integrating infrastructure" that really gets me.