New Years Resolutions

• Learn how to skateboard.
• Stop running away from things.
• Fuck more girls.

Skater

My daddy taught me how to skateboard yesterday. In case you were wondering, 54 year-old man on a skateboard = funny. But cute! Of course, my brother had to come along and be annoying and hog my skateboard. I was like "Uh, get your own, you tool." Then he was all "I just want to mock you cause I suck." Ahhh, sibling rivelry.

Anyway, I'm kind of getting the hang of this whole skateboard thing. I totally suck at it, but I'm getting better. I practiced some more today.

Compare and Contrast

I spent yesterday on the phone with Kristi, my ex-girlfriend from high school, and Yvonne, a friend of mine from Oberlin.

Kristi is:

• Getting her masters in economics.
• Practically engaged to some guy she's been dating for a month and a half.
• Owner of a house and two cars.

• Possibly dropping out of grad school.
• Working as a dom.
• Much, much more fun to talk to.

Sorry

I haven't been blogging lately, but it's cause

• My brother is always on the computer, and
• I'm boring.

Aquisitions

I got both a skateboard and a discman today, as late Christmas presents. I am super excited! Tomorrow me and my dad are going to go out and he's going to teach me how to skateboard. My skateboard has a robot on the bottom of it. (I wanted one with naked ladies, but they didn't have any.)

So now I'm going to need a posse of cool skaterbabes and boys. If I know you in real life, look into it, okay?

The Royal Tenenbaums

I really liked this movie. It was funny and sad, and at the end I felt very drained, although I've been feeling drained a lot lately anyway. I thought the characters were a little one demensional, but I was okay with that. I kind of want to become Margot Tenenbaum. I could wear lots of black eyeliner and sit in the bathtub all day, smoking and being depressed.

Also, the music in this movie was really good.

Foolish

Somehow, when I was gone for a year, I thought it would be a good idea to stay with my family for a month.

I must remember that criticizing everything I do is their way of expressing their love for me.

I can't believe I'm going skiing for a week with them. There will be no escape. I can't even smoke. I'm going to fucking kill myself.

Run, Run Run Away

I ran away from home yesterday, thanks to my parents being well meaning but completely psychotic. I brought my fairy wings, the scarf I'm crocheting, and my make-up with me, got in my little car and went to Neal's apartment in Pasadena. He wasn't there, so I called him on his cell and then hung around Caltech for two hours waiting for him. I got a lot of work done on my scarf! Then Neal came back and we rented DVDs (We saw Josie and the Pussycats and Momento. I recommend them both. Although I kind of liked Josie better, because I have shit taste.) and ordered Thai food. I spent the night on his couch (it was actually very comfortable), then woke up early so I could come back home in time to meet Adam for breakfast, since we had plans to do that and he's leaving today.

All in all, running away from home was very satisfying. I wish I could have done it when I was in high school.

Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas to everyone, but especially Julie, Emily, Rachel, Wendy, Phil, Ben, Chris, Addrienne, Melinda, DJ, Reed, Harrison, Adam, Neal, Jason, and everyone else who reads this thing.

So Clean!

I spent all of yesterday cleaning my house. (Well, okay, except for the time I spent on the couch being hung over, and the time I spent drinking.) It's not even that clean, either, although it's better. At one point my upstairs neighbor stopped by and asked me how I was doing, and I made him look at my stove. I was like "So clean! Look!"

Then I had to do all my laundry, and pack, and . . . uh. I'm exhausted just thinking about it.

I get to go take a plane now.

The Trouble With Social Butterflies

(Phone rings, Cyn picks it up)
Ben: Hey, what's up with tonight?
Cyn: Well, I have to go drink with Claire and her friends, but that probably won't take very long, and then I have to hang out with Harrison and Reed. Is it okay if they come over and chill with us?
Ben: Sure. I have to go have Grace time, and then I have to go meet someone else at midnight.
Cyn: Okay. How about we meet at 10:30?

Of course, everyone ended up coming over to my house and drinking heavily.

Today

I woke up at eight. At nine, I took my Human-Computer Interfaces final. It went okay, I probably should have studied instead of smoking pot last night, but I pretty much have an A in that class no matter what I do.

I went to the store and bought a twelve pack of Miller High Life, or, as I like to call her, My New Girlfriend. (Her name is Betty.)

I came home and said goodbye to my roommates. Bitches are finally gone! I miss them terribly already.
Then I smoked a lot of opium and wandered around my house confused.

I went and saw Liz, since she had Em's shirt and is moving to San Diego and needed to give it back.

I got lunch, saw Reed and Harrison, promised to drink with them tonight.

I went home and poked at the internet. I'm working on a top secret mission that will soon be revealed on this site!

I sat around and read Nine Stories, by JD Salinger. Also, I took a nap. I was awakened by my friend Adrienne calling, which was fantastic, since I haven't talked to her in forever and had everything in the world to tell her.

I've promised to drink with four different people tonight, so now I must make myself pretty and venture out in the world.

If only all days could be like this.

Come Live With Me and Be My Love

and we will all the pleasures prove
that hill or valley, dale or field
woods or steepy mountains yeild.

And we will sit upon the rocks
watching the shepards tend their flocks
by shallow river, to whose falls
melodious birds sing mardigals.

Julie is leaving tomorrow. For Maryland, and then in a couple of months, for England. It will be a very long time till she lives with me and is my love again. But Julie, baby, the offer still stands, just as it did in Harkness so long ago (and to Brett's delight). We will be performing for strangers again before long. You are the girl who makes me love my pudge, makes me realize that wanting things is okay, and makes me believe that I might actually be cool.

You are, as always, my first, my only, my littlest elf.

Finals Period In Naked House

One of my roommates has done nothing but study for the last three days and has barely come out of her room, and the other one is busy arranging a threesome.

Things are kind of weird around here.

Geek Out

As Cyn continues to frantically study . . .

My professor has devoted three pages of notes to the fact that in order for recursive functions to work, you have to pass them an environment that includes their name. Um, duh?

Also, I made up this song about call-by-name paramter passing. (Also called call-by-closure.) It is to the tune of "Say My Name" by Destiny's Child:

Call-by-name, Call-by-name
every time you use me,
evaluate my closure . . .
Call-by-name, Call-by-name . . .

Geek and proud, baby.

Finals, Continued

When I thought it would be a good idea to learn everything I was supposed to be learning this semester in two days . . . Well, I was wrong.

I have a plan, though. The plan is to take the knowledge from my notes and put it in my brain.

It just might work.

Finals

I have a portfolio due at five today, and I am Freaking Out!

Blah

I've spent all day revising essays for my non-fiction class. It sucks, because I kind of have to be in a different head space for each one, and I'm trying to do them all at once. Also, it means I have to spend a lot of time thinking about my past. Some of it is amusing. Some of it, not so much.

In other news, I've sent a lot of "hope we're still cool" emails out apologizing to friends I may have fucked things up with thanks to my drunken antics at the party, and I appear to still be cool with everyone.

In other, other news, I appear to have a huge boil on my face. I have a zit that is, I swear to god, as big as my nose and the same color as my hair. It's the ugliest thing I've ever seen in my entire life, and it's on my goddamned face. It's like instant karma or something.

The Craziest Night of My Life

We had a party at my house last night.

Somethings that happened:

• "The girl I used to be dating" showed up, even though she was very clearly not invited and made out with a bunch of people, including the a guy she had seen me making out with earlier in the night.
• I made out with this guy I've had a major crush on for a very long time. Then he told me he wasn't interested in emotional intimacy. Because I am cursed by God.
• There were many boys making out with each other on our couch, including Julie's boyfriend.
• I ran around and bitched about my fucking ex-girlfriend.
• This girl my ex-girlfriend brought with her puked on our floor.
• I went down on a girl in my bathroom.

My Morning Trauma

So this morning at around eleven, I'm lying in the flannel womb that is my bed, all naked and snuggly warm, when the phone rings. I let the machine get, of course, and I hear the frantic voice of my rommate Emily going "I'm at the co-op! No one's here! Please come help me make lunch!"

So I drag my ass out of bed, pour myself some coffee, and go to the co-op, where, lo and behold, Em is the only person there. Being the lovely roommate that I am, I set about deep frying tofu. Half an hour later, I'm covered in oil and cayanne pepper. (I think I deep fried my shoes.) Soon after this, the cayanne pepper begins to sting my delicate skin.

So I'm ignoring the fact that my face and hands are stinging, and I begin to whip some cream for dessert. Then I discover that two-thirds of the whipping cream in the Asia House kitchen has gone bad. I spend some time sniffing expired dairy products until I finally find three cartons that are still good. Then I discover that the wisk for the Hobart (a big industrial mixer), is nowhere to be found. We tried using another Hobart instrument, but that didn't work, so I ended up just using masking tape to affix a normal wisk to the Hobart. It worked pretty well.

I ate, and then went off to tutor, skin stinging, reeking of grease, and unable to rid my nose of the smell of sour whipping cream. What a way to start the day.

Comments

Hopefully, I will have dotComments working soon, and will no longer have to deal with free comment systems that go up and down like a two dollar whore.

Currently, comments work, but comment count doesn't. I'm okay with that.

It's Over

So, "the girl I'm dating" is now "the girl I used to date". There's really not a hell of a lot of difference in my life, since we're no longer dating due to her general avoidance of all things me. I thought "breaking up" would be cathartic, but it just made me more angry.

This is how the break-up went in my head:
Me: I just want to tell you that I thought you were avoiding me at that party, and you've been avoiding me for a while now. I'm not sure exactly why you wanted to date me anyway, since you don't appear to be interested in talking to me or having sex with me.
Her: I am sorry. I am a bad person. I was just using you to gratify my ego.
Me: I'm an actual human being, you know! Maybe next time you want to feel good about yourself, you should try doing some more fucking coke, bitch!

Instead, it went something like this:
Me: I wanted to talk to you about, um, our relationship.
Her: Mmm hmmm.
Me: I feel like we're not really dating at all. I mean, we never talk, we never actually do anything, I don't know what's going on.
Her: Well, I feel like you always want more, and I always want less.
Me: Less than what? We never actually spoke to each other!
(Silence)
Me: Well, I hope some day you find someone you can actually have a relationship with.
Her: It's not about the person. It's just because I'm so independent, and I'm so strong, and I'm used to relying on myself, it's hard for me to reconcile that. I really just need to work through some things.
Me: Good luck.
(Silence)
Me: I should probably go now.

So, basically, she was completely pathetic, and I couldn't even be mad, cause she was like a fucking sad puppy in the rain. She also appears to be completely in denial about the fact that she started this whole thing. Anyway. Once less psycho in my life.

Filled With Rage

I just had to give a presentation in my Human Computer Interfaces class, which sucked because it was a group project and I was the only person in the group who did any work. Basically, we were supposed to design a information kiosk to go in the main classroom building at Oberlin, and I ended up implementing the entire thing. One other person in my group did some trivial "making pretty" of what I had done. The other two . . . Well, one of them wrote the report, and the other one did a Powerpoint presentation. All about a half hour before it was do.

So, I'm currently filled with killing rage and have no where to focus it. I tried to chanel it into somewhere useful, namely breaking up with "the girl I'm dating," but she wasn't home and so I left a message on her machine that went "Hi. This is Cyn. I would like to talk to you. Please call me back."

Other People's Dreams

My friend Chris had a dream about my love life last night. Apparently in his dream it was me, "the girl I'm dating," and someone else, and he was drawing me a diagram. Dream Chris was all "Look, Cyn, this is "the girl you're dating" over in insanity land, and this is you, and this is the other person over in boring land. See, no one overlaps with you in Cynland." I feel Chris' dream is probably disturbingly prophetic.

Also, I'm never going to get laid. Ever. I am a monk.

Party

Last night I went to a party at my friend Phil's house, and "the girl I'm dating" was there and ignored me the whole time, and I got incredibly drunk and passed out on the floor and Phil put me to bed in his bed and I puked on the blankets.

And it was good. Because Phil and DJ both took care of me, and told me it was alright, and pointed out that "the girl I'm dating" is insane, and I just really needed someone to take care of me, I think. And I don't feel guilty with Phil, because I've taken care of him lots, too. And when I apologized for puking in his bed, he just said "It's not like I haven't done worse."

Last Night

Julie stumbled out of the bathroom, her pants around her ankles, clutching (clean) toilet paper still attached to the roll in one hand. "Nothing makes sense!" she screamed, and then she tipped over and hit the floor.

On shrooms, we became the people on drugs in movies and sitcoms. "Do you guys realize that the ground is covered in colors?" Em asked. "I am Alice Through the Looking Glass," I told them. Words were everything and nothing, all at once.

Hee hee

Monty has a Guide to Porn and it is funny funny funny.

Monty, when will you be my too-old-for-me boyfriend?

Tell Me Where To Live

I need advice. I'm about to graduate college, come Spring, and I need to figure out where I'm going to be living. So far all I know is I'm going to be living with my friend Phil.

I have the following requirements:

• We're two kids fresh out of college with BAs in Computer Science, and we need jobs.
• There need to be plenty of opportunities for a bi girl and a gay boy to find love (or at least sex) and not be ostracized/heckled on the street.

• City! I like cities. I like having things to do. I should be able to find culture outside of yogurt containers.
• Weather that doesn't suck a lot.
• Public transportation is good.
• The local people should worship pink-haired girls as gods.

It's Bedtime

The largest toad found commonly in Europe, the Bufo Bufo species can grow up to 20cm in length with a rotund body. Active mostly at night, this toad will walk about slowly, sometimes making short jumps, in search of insects, worms and other invertebrates. This makes it of great help to farmers. At the end of autumn it buries itself in the soil where it remains until good weather arrives again.

What kind of Frog are you?

Wasting Time With Online Pesonality Tests? I Don't Know What You Could Be Talking About

Take the Affliction Test Today!

Oh, Yeah

If I were a James Bond villain, I would be Pussy Galore. I enjoy flying, a good roll in the hay, and nerve gassing army bases. I am played by Honor Blackman in Goldfinger. Who would you be? James Bond Villain Personality Test

Bad Cyn!

I can't do work. I can't. I suck. I write like, half a page of my story and I'm all "I've worked! I'm done! Forget my job and my three other classes! I worked for a good fifteen minutes! Done now! Cigarette and beer time!"

So, instead:
I am addicted to this journal because it's so, well, normal. Except it's about hardcore SMBD.
This is my life after college.

Things Cyn Will Look At To Avoid Work

Who Wants To Marry A Sysadmin

Inside Cyn's Brain
Good Brain: Wait, you hate computer science guys, remember? And these guys are ugly. And sexist. And that girl - eh, whatever.
Bad Brain: Would you rather be doing work? Shut up. Maybe we'll get some email soon. Answering email is almost work. Oh, I know, we'll blog about how we're not working! Maybe we can take some more personality tests soon.

You Know It

Apparently I'm sluttier than 83% of the world. I prefer the term "Sex-Positive Feminist" myself.

New Low

I'm now listening to Kid Rock songs I downloaded from the Internet. Don't judge me, okay. That American Bad Ass is damn catchy.

Um, does anyone know the song where he's all "I take the punk rock, I mix it with the hip hop, something something hits you like a something (train wreck?)." And in the video it's a big fair/party thing and he's all wearing an Uncle Sam hat?

No Sleep Till Brooklyn

I couldn't sleep last night. I'm not one of those people who can never sleep, either. I've dated a number of those people - they annoy me. Always staying awake, complaining and watching you sleep and being all twitching and creepy. I've always felt slightly morally superior in my ability to sleep. It seems kind of indulgent not sleeping, although Lord knows those who can't are always bitching about it. It helps that I hate going sleep. If there's anything vaguelly interesting going on, I'd much rather be up and doing it, so I tend to go sleep when I really physically have to, and thus most often all I have to do is pop beneath the covers and I'm off to dreamland. I hate getting up, too, but that's neither here nor there. Anyway, so great is my ability to sleep that in semesters when I wasn't getting enough sleep, I would frequently take naps whenever I had nothing else to do. It was a great way to spend those times when you have about an hour between places to be and no hope of getting work done.

But back to the situation at hand. Last night, I went to bed at three. At four-thirty, I gave up, hauled my ass out of bed, took some melatonin, and went back to bed. I think I finally went to sleep around five-thirty or six, thinking to myself "If I just lie here for four more hours, my alarm will go off and I can get out of this damn bed, whether I've slept or not." I'm not sure why I couldn't sleep. It could have been the eleven hours I slept the night before. I think it was mainly the fact that my stupid brain would not shut up. It kept worrying about stupid, useless, pointless things, like what will happen if I get searched when I go to the airport to fly home on the twenty-third. Damn brain.

Weather

The weather was bright and sunny today. I was glad it wasn't raining anymore, and I rather enjoyed it, but as I was walking down the street an old man said "Winter is over" to me in a rather accusatory tone of voice, and it kind of creeped me out.

In Other Wendy News

My friend Wendy is no longer living with my parents, and is off to Tahoe to work at a ski resort. Good luck to her, where ever she may roam, and hopefully I'll see her this winter.

Cutest Package Ever

(Artist's rendering: Julie, Cyn, Em)

I got the cutest package in the world today. It was a Christmas package from my mommy, full of tinsel and ornaments (Christmas has come to the underwear wall!), and decorated by Wendy. The outside of the box included the drawing above. So I spent all afternoon strewing tinsel and glitter about. Our house is currently the cutest thing in the world.

Also on the box: This picture of a bunny, which I find especially cute.

Other People's Slack

So I spent all weekend working on this program for my group Human Computer Interfaces project, and then only one other person showed up for my group meeting today. One guy called and apologized and claimed to be having a personal crisis, and the other one - well, he may be dead, I really don't know. It's sad, because the guy who hasn't contacted us at all we let into our group because we felt he might be a functioning member of society, and just generally not like us. Anyway, this project is due tomorrow, so I hope they get it together.

Slack

I got kicked out of my eating co-op for never doing any work! Whoo! My nefarious plan has worked!

Insight

The other day in my creative writing class, we were talking about embarassing/amusing injuries. (This was brought up because my professor had some sort of injury brought about by catching his foot in the door and falling onto his young sons' scooters.)

"I kind of like embarassing injuries," I said. "You get to tell funny stories about them all the time. I'm usually too amused by them to be annoyed. Like when I fell down my stairs this summer. That was great."

"That's what's great about you, Cyn," my professor said. "Shame doesn't even touch you."

Girls

Em and Julie and I all hung out with the girl I'm dating and some of our mutual friends last night. We ended up at our house, drinking beer and smoking pot and opium. The girl and one of the friends were on coke, since the girl is into that sort of thing. The girl went home around two, and it seemed clear she didn't want me to go back with her, so I kissed her goodbye and let her walk back with one of our friends.

Being with girls makes me back in Junior High again. I don't know where I stand with them. With boys, there comes a certain point where I know what to do. After a while, I'm like "This gentleman is attracted to me, he will not be adverse to me giving him a hummer in the back seat of his car." With girls, I don't know what the fuck I'm doing. Especially with this girl. Something in me just doesn't trust this girl. I don't know what she's looking for, and I don't know what she sees in me. Kissing her doesn't feel real. Even when we're both sober, it feels like when you're drunk at a party and kissing someone you don't know.