Spaz

So, I went to my Creative Writing class today, only to discover that I was supposed to turn in an essay to be workshopped. It was quite a surprise, which is what I get for not paying attention to these things. I apologized, went home and did a quick revision of a piece I had written, and emailed it off to everyone. (These were supposed to be revisions of already written pieces.) It actually turned out pretty good, but I'm really mad at myself for being such a spaz, especially since this is one of the classes I'm actually doing better than I expected in. Well, I assume I'm doing well, I haven't actually gotten any grades, but the professor seems to like my work a lot more than he has in previous classes I've had with him.

Between this, and my Programming Languages assignment that's due tomorrow, but only thanks to my extension, and my HCI project due on Monday, and my other creative writing project due the tenth . . . I'm kind of freaking out. I can't believe I'm such a goddamned flake this semester. Usually I have it all together, and now I'm pulling this kind of crap. Plus, there's the whole question of graduation, and what I'm doing with my life . . . I want to hide under my bed, except my bed is a mattress on the floor, which makes it harder to hide under.

Hate the Damp

It's been raining for the past three days. This isn't normal rain, where one can carry an umbrella and be fairly dry. Oh no, this is the kind of light misty rain that just hangs in the air and gets one soaking wet no matter what. And I hate it. I want it to be dry! Jesus christ, why can't it just fucking snow if it's going to be miserable? At least snow is pretty.

Slacker

I got out of bed at noon today. I blame my flannel sheets and the rain. If there had been just one of them, I might have made it out by eleven, but between the two it took until noon.

The trouble with sleeping naked is that it's so great to be all naked and snuggly warm in between flannel sheets that you really never want to be anywhere else, especially if anywhere else is likely to be cold and require clothes and doing work and generally not being asleep.

Lesbian Kittens

So, you know that ex-girlfriend I've been bitching about for the last week or so?

I'm dating her.

Yeah, I know I was all "Blah blah blah, I want stability, blah blah blah speed blah blah blah love blah blah crazyperson." And I had this big long speech worked out in my head about how I was going to tell her that I didn't want to date her. But then I realized that I did want to date her! So I marched my little butt over to her room and was like "Sorry I've been avoiding you! Dating is good!" and there was talking and girly kissing.

The thing that made me change my mind? I realized that I never meet girls that I actually like enough to want to date. Except that I like her enough to date her. And one has to figure there's a little craziness inherent in wanting to date me, after all.

Query

Does anybody besides me and Emily find Alan Rickman totally hot? I saw the Harry Potter movie, and let me tell you, that man can be my potions teacher any day. He's all tall and British and evil. I feel he is an excellent candidate to be my too-old-for-me boyfriend. Alan Rickman could tie me to the bed and sneer at me all day long, and I would be perfectly happy.

Andy

Andy is Julie's brother. Also, he is completely insane. He's eighteen and in his first year at Auburn, in Alabama. Andy was home for Thanksgiving, just like Julie and I, so we got to experience the insanity first hand.

At Thanksgiving dinner, Andy was regaling us with tales of his roommate.

Andy: I call him Sketch, because he's such a sketchy kid. He never puts the mac and cheese away, he just leaves it in the hotpot all the time. It's disgusting. Once, he hadn't put the mac and cheese away, and I had asked him twice, so I took my friend's hot glue gun and glued all his stuff to the floor.
Everyone: What?
Andy: Well, he could get it off, he just had to peel all the glue off. Anyway, he's disgusting. He never cleans. I vacuum twice a day.
Everyone: You vacuum twice a day?
Andy: Well, sometimes I don't have time. But I vacuum at least once every day.
Me: How often do you shower?
Andy: Twice a day, because I have to shower after I work out.
Someone: That's pretty normal. How long do you shower for?
Andy: Twenty minutes.

Andy also bugged out about the car a lot. You see, Julie gets to drive the car this semester, since she needs it, but it's somehow Andy's car, even though Julie doesn't have her own car, and it's not like Andy bought the car or anything, but since Julie has it this semester, Andy got taken of the insurance so he's not allowed to drive it. Except he's a crazy shouting person, so he did get to drive it. Also, he was very upset about how dirty the car was, and took it to his dad's to shop vac the inside, despite the fact that he would not be allowed to drive the car until sometime in January. He would sometimes just go out and sit in the car and listen to music on the car stereo. He also got very upset that Julie had put a peace sign on the car, and ripped part of it off. "I'm not for peace, I'm for war!" he yelled at her.

Andy has an aversion to the word fuck, especially as a verb. Instead of using it, he says things like "F you man! F you twice!" and "What the truck?" or "What the duck?"

The most fun I had with Andy was when we came home from the party on Friday. Julie, Ben, Dom and I were all sitting in the kitchen being silly when Andy came in, yelled "HI!" and kind of draped himself over Julie.

"Dude, are you fucked up?" Julie asked.
"No . . . YES!!!!!" Andy replied.

Then he proceeded to call about a billion people on his cell phone and tell them about his drunkeness. He also described everyone in the kitchen to them. My description was "Cyn has the pinkest hair! It is so pink! It's really cool, dude." He also made a list of things we needed, which included Jennifer Aniston and a talking duck (big).

I think I actually intimidated Andy, which was kind of strange. He mainly ignored me when Julie was around, and focused on torturing her instead. At one point Ben and I were wrestling on the lawn because I was trying to steal Ben's hat, and that freaked Andy the hell out. Andy was really less of a person to me, and more a force of nature. We'd all go about our business, Andy would come in and scream and be crazy, and then he'd leave and we'd go back to whatever we were doing.

Sad!

Jack Murnighan is no longer doing Jack's Naughty Bits on Nerve, the coolest website in the world. Jack's Naughty Bits are a weekly column (and also a book of the same name) where he picks a dirty passage from some work of literature and exerpts it, along with writing a charming and witty introduction. He almost got a PhD in Medieval Literature and he's always translating things from foreign languages and he's only thirty-two! The perfect age to be my too-old-for-me boyfriend. (I want a too-old-for-me boyfriend to corrupt me, or let me corrupt him, or just generally be degenerate with. I don't have all the details worked out, but I definitely want one.) Also he writes totally yummy erotic fiction. Word on the street is that he prefers tall women, but I'll put on my tallest futuristic shoes for him. Jack Murnighan, please be mine!

Letting Our Freak Flag Fly

Time: Friday Night
Place: A party hosted by Jen, one of Julie's friends from her all girl private high school.
Characters: Me, Julie, Julie's boyfriend Ben, and Dom, a super-cool friend of Julie's from high school.

So we're all sitting around, discussing our various sordid lives, and of course the conversation turns to seeing Ben naked.
Me: I saw you naked at Yvonne's party, remember?
Ben: Oh, yeah.
Me: Well, actually, you were wearing a cock ring.
Ben: Was I? I don't remember that.
Julie: It was Yvonne's strap-on without the dildo, remember?

At this point, Jen's mother walks through the room without even stopping to look at us, and we all give up on pretending to be normal, functional members of society.

Welcome Back, Baby

So Emily and I decided we needed to go out and see people tonight, and ended up dressing up all cute because no one was home and we needed something to do. (I later realized that three of the things I was wearing, barettes, earmuffs, and socks, had Hello Kitty on them, and two of them, coat and earmuffs, were fake fur. Go, obsessiveness.)

We ended up in one of my friend's rooms, and within two hours I had snorted an ADD medication cocktail, smoked a lot of weed, and huffed homemade ether. So now it's 2:30 and I'm wide-awake and checking out everything I've missed on the internet/unpacking.

The Platonic Stoner

Wednesday night, Julie and I went out with her boys. We drove up to this park and sat around and smoked, and then drove around and talked about the war and how it sucks and I suddenly felt like I was in the sixties. Then we went to 7-11 and bought slurpees and there was a scary man there bleeding from his head, and I was like "Whoa! Slurpees! 90s stoner!" Then we went and hung out in Steve's basement and watched the boys play video games (I detest watching boys play video games) and it was very 80s stoner. Then Julie and I decided we must have something 70s stoner about us, but we couldn't figure out what it was. Anyway, I was a stoner through the ages.

Thanksgiving

I'm going to Maryland with Julie for Thanksgiving. Since everyone I know appears to be from Maryland (It's not that big a state! Where do they fit all these people?), Ben, Emily, Julie and I all packed our asses in the car yesterday at six and took our show on the road. By the time we got to Ben's house at 1:30, we were threatening to bite each other. Julie called her parents and was like "We're here, but we all hate each other now." We had problems finding food we could eat at rest stops just like I told Emily we would. Heads were slammed in doors, cds were fought over, at one point the car came to a screeching halt and a cd case flew through the air and hit the console, making a big ass hole in it. (Note that I use the passive voice to imply my disinvolvement with all this trauma.) Somehow I ended up riding shotgun, which involved being the bitch of three very sleepy, cranky people, one of whom was driving. Everyone in that car owes me a goddamned blowjob.

If I had had a long stick, things would have gone very, very differently.

On Love

I've been thinking about love a lot lately, since my love life has been rather tumultuous lately, with the girls wanting me and then not wanting and then wanting me back and all. I've been thinking about what I want, and what I don't want, and ways to tell my speedfreak ex-girlfriend that what I don't want is her, without being mean and without lying.

What I want is stability. I don't even so much want the crazy mind-blowing greatness that is the first stages of a relationship, when you realize that this person is The Coolest Person Ever and more importantly The Coolest Person Ever Wants You, although I must admit, that would be nice. And I don't really even want crazy animalistic mind-blowing sex, although I wouldn't send it away if it came knocking. I want someone who will smile at me and hug me and lie their arm across my stomach while I fall asleep.

I want someone sane. It doesn't seem like a lot to ask, but I haven't found it yet. Sometimes I think that nobody in this world is sane, but then I look at people like my parents and my roommates, and I think maybe there are sane people, but maybe they just don't go for quirky little pink-haired girls. So I think maybe sane is too much to ask, because I'm not sure that I fit that definition myself, maybe not on my best days and certainly not on my worst. So maybe all I'm asking is someone who has their shit together on some level, someone who can make it out of bed and to work or class most of the time and doesn't have to put shit up their nose on a regular basis and doesn't cry too much. I know a lot of people who don't have their shit together, and I like them a lot, but, well, I don't have the time or energy for that sort of thing anymore.

I want someone who quirks like me, who understands wings and fake fur and Hello Kitty and glitter, or at least thinks that they look good on me. I want someone who understands writing and computer programming and cooking and crazy kindergarden style art projects, or at least understands that these are things I love and things that are a part of me and things that I'm at least fairly decent at. I want someone who can keep up with all of me, with the partying and the goofiness and the academics, because I'm tired of dragging people through parts of my life that they don't like or understand. I don't mean that they have to know all about everything that I'm all about or even into. I just mean that they have to kind of respect that I'm into it.

I want someone who's smart but not pretentious, who's cute but doesn't know it, who parties but isn't out of control. Maybe that's what everyone's looking for. Maybe that's too much to ask. But half the time love is too much to ask, and sometimes even like is too much to ask, and that's just the way of the world.

Really, all I ask is they don't send me those goddamned CrushLink email things, the ones from that website where they make you enter email addresses and guess who your crush is. I got another one of those today, and I hate them more than I can possibly express.

The Wonderful World of Sobriety

I spent all day yesterday sober. It was kind of great. I woke up Saturday morning and I was like "Dude! I don't have to drink today! It's going to be awesome!" (Because I have to drink on weekends. It's like it's my job. It's a social obligation, man.) Plus it had been ten days or so since the last time I had been sober all day, and I was begining to feel like this blog was reading like a cry for help or something. I ended up being kind of productive, although the hours after ten at night took longer than they usually do, and I had some trouble going to sleep. That might have just been because I was only awake for twelve hours, and really only went to bed because I was feeling kind of bored and cranky.

So this morning I woke up and didn't feel incredibly haggard, which was novel. Then I completely forgot that I was supposed to go to a Computer Science Major's Committee meeting (I'm only the friggin co-head of the committee), and ended up eating nachos for lunch. Because meals based soley on tortilla chips and cheese are nutricious and delicious. Being sober will fuck you up like that, man.

A Drunken Interlude With Cyn's Family

My family called last night in the midst of my party, and I had very loud drunken conversation with them, to the delight of myself, my family, and my guests. It included the following advice:

Daddy: Don't do anything I wouldn't do.
Cyn: What exactly would that be, Daddy?
Daddy: Well, you know, heroin, I guess.
Cyn: I'm writing that down right now! (Pretends to write on hand) No Heroin!
Daddy: Or any injectable drugs, really.
Cyn: Okay, writing that down. No injectable drugs.
Daddy: No sex with barnyard animals, either. Also, your mother says if you do heroin, inject it, don't smoke it, and use a clean needle.
Cyn: (To partyers in kitchen) Hey guys! My dad says not to do heroin!
Emily: What about PCP?
Cyn: Daddy, what about PCP?
Daddy: Don't do that, either.
Cyn: Em, my dad says no PCP.
Emily: Tell him he's a fascist!
Cyn: Em says you're a fascist, Daddy.
Daddy: Um, yes, well.

So take that to heart, kids. I also had the following discussion with my dad about my going to Maryland.

Daddy: You should eat some crabs while you're there.
Cyn: I'm a vegetarian, Daddy, remember? Vegetarian
Daddy: Yes, well, I don't understand why you have to be such a damned picky eater.
Cyn: Maybe Julie will eat some crabs for you. Will that make you happy?
Julie: I don't eat shellfish.
Cyn: Wait, Julie doesn't eat shellfish. What if Em eats some shellfish? (Yelling into the phone) Will that make you happy, Daddy? Will you be happy if Em eats shellfish?
Em: I think I might come out as a vegetarian at Thanksgiving. I ate some chicken the other day, and it tasted funny.
Daddy: Well, yes.

Also, Wendy tried to convince me that oysters were the potatoes of the sea. Because when I call my family, I get to talk to my mommy, my daddy, my brother, and my Wendy.

I think I may try to talk to my family all the time when I'm drunk, they're very amusing.

Dreams

I had crazy dreams all night last night. One of them was about this person I have a huge, crazy, all-consuming crush on, and it was one of those dreams that's too nice, because in the dream world it's great and then you wake up and you're like "Shit, that's not real life."

Another was about being wanted by the police.

The last one was the strangest. It involved this professor I had a couple years ago saying he wanted to see me in his office hours, and then yelling at me for not working up to my potential. Then I was like "Wait! I don't have a class with you!" and he was like "Yes, but this other professor you have this year wants to see you," and I was like "Oh, the other professor is too nice to yell at me, so he made this professor do it," but then I had to go see the other professor and he yelled at me for not working as hard as I should be. Also, there was a supermarket and I wanted to buy some dried fruit but didn't, and there were small children and a sick kitten and I made them give the kitten water because it was thirsty.

Conclusion

So, A didn't show, C was here but avoided me, and B . . . Well, B showed up after I had left for another party (Yeah, that's right kids, I left my own party to go to other parties . . . That is just how cool I am.), apparently waited around for me a while, and then left me her underwear and a note. Granted, I have a wall of underwear, so she kind of has an excuse for leaving it.

Y'all, I'm not used to this. I don't think I want to date this girl, because she's kind of a nutball, and I have no idea what to do. What do you guys do when women are leaving their underwear at your house?

Hypothetical Situation

Let's say there are two girls, A and B.

You've gone on a couple of weird date things with A, but nothing really happened, because she told you she wasn't ready for a relationship, but you've also gotten drunk and made out with her at parties a couple of times. She's always telling you she wants to hang out with you, and you don't know what's up with that.

B is your ex-girlfriend, who you had a very short relationship with, ending because she wasn't ready for a relationship. Then last night you got hella drunk together and ended up making out and she told you she wants to date you again.

Now lets say you accidentally invited both A and B to a party at your house tonight. Also at the party will be C, a very annoying man you drunkenly went home with sometime last year, and have been avoiding ever since. What would you do?

Fucking Disgusting

My ashtray outside has reached the point where you can't see what's at the bottom of it. We're talking many, many layers of cigarette butts. Also, someone put their gum in it, which is hella gross but I can't really be self righteous about. I'm all like "How dare you put your narsty gum in with my nice pretty cigarette butts! Asshole."

We missed trash night this week. We have about three full bags of trash in our kitchen right now, not to mention the state of our recycling bins. We're thinking on going on an Ultra Top Secret Ninja Mission to the campus dumpters and recycling bins. That's right, we're Secretly Recycling! We are so fucking bad ass.

We really need to clean the kitchen. Somehow, our sink manages to be constantly full of dishes, and I think I melted cheese onto the top of the stove last night. (I was trying to make mac and cheese. It kind of went hideously awry. I don't really want to talk about it.)

We're having a party on Saturday, so we really need to un-ghetto our house sometime tomorrow. We're like Oscar the Grouch here, people. If Oscar was an alcoholic.

Out of Control

You ever go out drinking and end up, um, "liberating" some patio furniture?

Me neither.

Bad Girl

So, I spent today cooking, tutoring, going to class, and meeting with my HCI group about the project that's due tomorrow. So what am I doing instead of my part of the write-up? Why going out drinking, of course!

Good Girl

I got all my homework done today! I'm sort of kind of almost caught up in my classes.

Canceled Class

I was the only person who showed up for my Human Computer Interaction class today. It was actually quite sad, as the professor was obviously upset. He's a pretty good professor too, and it's obvious that he works hard, but he puts the lecture notes online and so it's really easy to skip class. So I got him to help me with my Programming Languages project, since he teaches that class too, and I got that done, finally. Maybe this makes up for me being a huge dumbass Monday. It must suck to teach CS. Computer science boys are so convinced that they're infallible and everyone else is much, much stupider than they are. Anyway, this certainly can't help my grade. (I'm the good one!) Also, this class has like, twelve people registered for it, which is about average for Oberlin computer science.

Rambling

I got up at one today, which I actually don't feel bad about, since I didn't have classes and I really, really needed sleep. I was really productive from about ten until one in the morning yesterday, working on this programming assignment that was orginally due at midnight yesterday. I started it at ten in the morning yesterday, but then I managed to get the entire class an extension until Wednesday, just by being a dumbass. I was all "Um, your code doesn't work? Wait, never mind, I'm just stupid," but by that time, it was too late for him to take it back. Anyway, it turned out his code didn't work, I just hadn't got to the part where it didn't work yet. So I spent a lot of time in the lab with my friend Claire, and I'm almost done with it, but at one Claire was all "It's my 21st birthday! We have to go to the Feve bar!" and I was like "Oh no, don't throw me in the briar patch!" I can't help my crazy lifestyle, y'all. People are always forcing me to go to the bar and drink margaritas. It's not my fault.

Claire is also having her 21st birthday party at our house on Saturday, making this the third weekend in a row there's been a party at our house. Which is fun, but also means we're spending a lot of time picking up beer cans. Our living room still hasn't completely recovered from last Saturday.

So I woke up, showered, and went to the co-op to steal food, since our larder was pretty much bare. I got some eggs, pasta, tomatoes, and a whole hell of a lot of cheese. We pretty much have more cheese than God right now, but between the three of us we go through cheese like nobody's business, so I think it's okay. There wasn't any tofu at the co-op, though, which made me sad. (Julie, if you read this, and you love me, you could get some tofu at the Decaf.) So I think I'll try to make some sort of cheesy pasta thing for dinner. I love making dinner for my house, we really are disgustingly domestic.

I have this screen saver on my linux box that makes squares out of what's on your desktop and moves them around, (it's called Slide Screen, for those of you running Mandrake 8.0), and it's really fun when you have porn in your browser, because it slides everything around and puts people in crazy unanatomically possible positions.

Link

For all the indie rockers in the house.

Cracked Out Kid

There was a little rolling party at my house last night. I took two pills and had a marvelous time. It was a really subtle roll, and I spent the night running around gnawing on my binky, wearing a surgical mask coated in Vicks, and telling everyone how much I loved them. But, really, when don't I do that? It was great, though, because it was a room full of the people I love, and the people who love me, and I think a lot of the time I forget that I have so fucking many incredibly rad friends. It was really exactly what I needed right now.

So today my jaw hurts like hell and my brain is dead, but I managed to get up at 12:30, clean a bit (mainly picking up beer cans, razor blades, vicks vaporub, clothing, water bottles, etc), go get lunch (which was quite an adventure. Thank god my Em was there to help me.), and set my linux box up with the internet. That's right, baby, this is coming at ya from a lean mean linux machine. I am a stud.

The Uber Bowl

Last night we were taking bong hits off a bowl packed with pot, opium, and a wee bit of shrooms. Oh, yeah baby. You know you want to hit it.

Fifties Housewife

My friend Adrienne is visiting this weekend, so we had a small dinner party for her last night. There were eight of us, altogether, and I made spanekopita and breaded tofu and a salad, and Em made two pies, and it was all super yummy. Then we sat around and ate and drank cheap red wine. It was great, although my roommates left me home to cook while they went to the airport to pick up Adrienne, and I kind of went crazy and became a fifties housewife. I felt like I was making dinner for my husband's boss or something. I was like "Oh no! What if something gets burnt? My life will be over! Is there enough food? Maybe I should make some more! My life will be ruined if this dinner is not perfect!"

Uh-Oh

I was just sitting in my Programming Languages class, and I suddenly realized that I have absolutely no idea what the fuck is going, at least where programming languages are concerned. This does not bode well for me, gradewise.

New Low

We're using party napkins for toilet paper here at Naked House. It's probably my fault, too, since it's my turn to get toilet paper. In the meantime, well, it's a party in our down souths.

Hair Dying

I have a bag on my head! In half an hour, I will be pink, pink, pink once more!

I'm Wet, Cold, and I Smell Like Potatoes!

Is what I was saying earlier today. When I, you know, was wet, cold, and smelled like potatoes. First I had to spend all morning frying potato pancakes for the co-op, then I went straight from there to tutoring for four hours, and the sunny weather fooled me into not wearing a sweatshirt. So then it started raining, and I had to walk back to my house in my t-shirt and jeans. Blah.

Sleep

I had a dream that I was smoking crank, only the process involved heating up these things that looked like rice krispy treats with a lighter. Then I had to get rid of it all because I was going to go through an airport.

Anyone have a pop psych interpretation?

Cursed By God

Watch as cute girls make out with her!
Listen as they tell her they just aren't ready for a relationship!
Feel her going home and getting drunk!

All this and more in . . . The Girl Who Amazingly Repels Relationships!

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Parental Bonding

So, I called my parents tonight, and it turns out that my friend Wendy, who graduated last year, is now living with them. It's very exciting for everyone, I think it will be fun for them. Also, I told them to make her put down linoleum in our kitchen. (My parents have been avoiding putting down linoleum for the last year, because neither of them wants to do it.) So she's staying in my room and just generally pretending to be me, but I won't get to see her, because she's going to be in Tahoe by the time I get home! It is totally not fair, I miss the Wendy-lady. I'm sure my parents will take good care of her for me, though.

By the way, how totally rad are my parents? Wendy just showed up to visit and was like "Oh, yeah, I'm kind of homeless right now, I need to take care of that," and my parents were like "Stay with us! We will take care of you and feed you yummy meals!" Also, calling home and having some strange young woman answer the phone, and being like "Is this the Taylor residence?" and having her be like "Cyn? It's Wendy!" was all very strange and unexpected, since I wasn't even sure that she was going to be able to visit them at all.

Hangover Adventures, III

I'm not actually hungover, since I went to bed at three and woke up at noon. It's just that every day I get up and I'm all "I'm going to be good today! I'm not going to get fuct up! I'm going to do lots of work and go to bed early and wake up early and do lots of work!" Then come three in the morning, I'm drunk off my ass, all "Maybe I should go to bed now . . . "

Not that this is a problem, or anything.

Hangover Adventures, II

I'm actually not that bad today, but I'm slightly annoyed because I did not plan to get fuct up, I just planned to go to a couple of parties and have a couple of drinks and dance and hopefully make-out with the CuteGirl. Instead, I went to this huge crazy party, did not see the girl at all, and ended up chugging beer out of a juice bottle I found in the basement because there were no cups. This wasn't like, a personal sized juice bottle, this was a family sized juice bottle. So then we went home and ended up smoking with this random bisexual republican rapper (who was white), and our upstairs neighbor and Ben. It was all very amusing, but I wish I had exercised some moderation, because I have shitloads of work to do.

So, I've been to three different dress-up type events in the last week (given, on Halloween the event was my classes), and I've been a fairy, Anthrax, and a seventies folk singer. I was the seventies folk singer last night, and it involved this crazy yellow dress that is huge and has many daisies on it, and makes me feel like I should be running through a field when I wear it. Also, I made up this song:

Kitties and bunnies are my best friends,
When I am with them the fun never ends.
Kitties and bunnies are not for the war,
Carrots and springtime is what they adore.

Em and Julie were dressed as a bunny and a kitty, and they got to be my back-up singers. My album will be coming out soon. Also, all of my clothes are Halloween costumes. People are always borrowing my shit to play dress-up in. Also, sometimes people ask me what I'm dressed up as, and I have to tell them I'm not really dressed.

Hangover Adventures

You know when you have like, fifty things running on your computer and then you go to open something else and it makes that "RRRRrrrrrrRRRRRrrrrrr" noise? That's what my brain has been doing all day.

It helps that crazy shit has been happening. First someone called and tried to sell me a newspaper subscription, and the conversation went something like this:
Them: Blay blay free papers blay
Me: Um, I don't think we're interested.
Them: Why not? Blay blay blay our paper is great.
Me: We're not really paper people.
Them: Why do you say that?
Me: Um, we don't get a paper or anything.
Them: You should get ours.
Me: Well, we use the internet a lot.
Inside My Head: Last time this happened, I asked Emily what to do and she made them go away. What did she do? Shit . . . Oh, yeah!
Me (with great sense of accomplishment): We do not respond to telephone solicitations.
Them: Click.

Then I was standing in my kitchen wearing a towel and drinking water while I waited for my coffee to brew, and my creepy upstairs neighbor walked by and looked in the window. So I waved at him, because I'm a nice girl, and he looks at me and says "Sexy!" All my poor infeebled brain could manage was a vague grimace and a thumbs up, and then he left and I was like "All the water in the world cannot get me clean again!"

Then I went to the co-op for lunch, and was loud and crazy (including screaming "Emily, I'm sorry I was wack!" across the room to apologize for giving her the finger when she woke me up because my parents were on the phone.)

Next I went to class. This very short, squat, hairy boy came in to class late, and he was carrying food, which was completely gross to me at that point in time, and I was just like "Oh, please god, keep the food the hell away from me." So of course he sat down next to me, and I was like "Ahhhh! Food." But then things got drastically worse . . . He was wearing Birkenstock sandal things, and in the middle of class he took one off, held it up to his face, and sniffed it! I was completely horrified, not least of all because it meant his scary feet were roaming free near myself and my possesions. Worst of all, I was the only one who noticed, so I could not even signal my distress to someone and laugh at what a freak this boy was being. So I'm trying to get myself as far away from the feet as possible when he begins to pick at one of his feet! It was right next to me! I totally couldn't handle it. So finally I just looked at him and kind of whisper-hissed "Stop that!" He just gave me this look, halfway between "What the fuck are you talking about" and "Why should I stop picking my feet in class?"

Sleep now, yes.

We Had Quite The Party

At the end of the night, there were two dollars, two condoms and a pair of underwear in the tip jar. Although, to be honest, we were soliciting underwear for our wall. (We got lots of promises that people would come back when they were wearing nicer pairs - we'll see how it pans out.) I was dressed as Anthrax, which involved wearing a tiny black shirt and tiny black skirt, lots of glitter, and a biohazard sticker. (It was a concept costume.) Then at some point during the night I switched clothes with Phil, and was wearing a wife beater and rave pants. (Cyn: Wait! If we switched clothes, where's my fucking bra? Phil: You weren't wearing a bra.) We had our party as an alternative to Safer Sex Night, this college thrown party where everyone dresses up slutty and goes to the 'Sco. We had all done it before, and we were tired of unattractive sweaty naked people, and it was an "alcohol-free event", so we decided to have our own party. A lot of people showed up when Safer Sex Night ended at one, and they were all crazy and in their underwear. Some rolling people showed up near the end, and they were totally cute, as etards tend to be. A cute girl made out with the hostess, which is always a good thing. Things were snorted, things were smoked. It's all a blur, really. I finally went to sleep around four in the morning, after the last people left.

Then my mother called me at 9:30 this morning to yell at me because I never call her. I was like "I've been busy. I'm sorry. I love you. Yes, I'm sorry. Yes, I love you guys. I've been busy. I'm sorry. I love you. BYE!"

Cyn's Schedule

I am busier than a one-armed paper hanger today, as my father would say. This is my schedule:

Hopefully, I will manage not to collapse of exhaustion/pass out in a pool of my own vomit.

My Halloween

So, what did I do last night, you ask? Did I go to a fabulous party, ingest every substance known to man, and end up in a crazy costumed orgy? Did I pretend I was thirteen and go trick-or-treating? Did I end up naked and covered in glitter, running wild through the streets?

No.

I cleaned.

First I had to do an hours worth of cleaning in my co-op, since I am a bad co-oper and missed when I was supposed to clean last time. Then my roommates and I decided to have a party tonight for a number of random reasons, so we cleaned the house. Whooo, cleaning! It's a barrel of spooky fun!