Hangover Time

Well, the eyeliner must have worked, because I got digits at the party last night. Real digits, too. Usually I get the I just stuck my hands down your pants in front of 30 people so here's my phone number kind of digits, but I didn't even make out with this guy.

The party was rocking. I was wearing a shirt with a picture of this girl on a swing that said "I swing both ways" on it, and the people liked it. This guy from the next town over who crashed the party kept hitting on me, and after ascertaining that I did, in fact, swing both ways, he said "So you're just interested in tongue, huh?" I was like "Uh. I'm interested in other things, too," because what do you say to something like that? I mean, while it is true that if you don't go down, you lose your woman like a set of keys, it's true of all women, not just bi chicks. Anyway, I spent a lot of the party running around trying to avoid that guy, because I'm a stupid girl who can't tell people to fuck off when they're bothering me. It literally never even crosses my mind to be like "Back off, creep!" Instead, I go to elaborate lengths to avoid people, including sending my friend Lindsey to get my cigarettes from where I'd left them because the creepy guy was standing next to where they were.

I also played this game called flipcup, which involves chugging a quarter of a cup of beer, and then flipping your cup over. It's a racing game. By the end of the party, we had decided that flipcup brings the people together in love, and that we should become missionaries and bring flipcup to Ecuador. We also developed our own language, flipcupese, where the only words are "flipcup" and "beer". We conversed in flipcupese for great length. Also, there is a special top secret flipcup handshake, for those in the know.

Party Time

I just got done putting make-up on for this party I'm going on. I'm trying liquid eyeliner, and it's kind of tricky, but it totally helps me put the whore in kiddiewhore. My right eye is always totally better than my left, though.

I'm totally addicted to this peppermint lipgloss from Caboodles. It makes my lips obscenely shiny. And I mean that literally - I feel dirty having lips this wet looking.

My new look (well, okay, also my old look) is looking slutty, but also kind of like my mother dressed me, in an over-matching way.

Sulk

So not only am I totally broke, but . . .

Wowie! You are Tfu Tfu! You're the odd one out, there are few places you fit in. Others don't understand you very well and tend to treat you indifferently and take you for granted. But then again, you don't really give a damn about them anyway.

I'm a shitty font!

Rad

This is the coolest thing I've ever seen. I want to learn how to make computer generated girls like that . . . I want to be a computer generated girl like that . . .

Unfortunately, it's an odd mix of Japanese and English, so I can't figure out exactly what's going on. If anyone does know, tell me about it, please?

Chill Day

I've been incredibly hungry all day, which is weird because I've eaten. I'm totally craving some major greasy diner food, but everything is closed and I have exactly a dollar to my name right now.

I did normal back to school things today, like getting my mail and going to the bank. I deposited a big ass check from my parents for my rent, and the bank informed me that the money would not be in my account for five business days, since I'm currently $132 overdrawn. I was like "Um, yeah, that means I need that money sooner than five days" but whatever, I'll live. Being broker than broke has inspired me to do some actual work, so I also did some grammar checking on a lab for the professor I work for.

My Hometown Is a Nice Place To Visit, But I Wouldn't Want To Live There

I'm back in Oberlin, and damn it feels good to be an Obie. I bought Best Erotica 2001 to read on the plane, only to immediately sit next to a woman reading the Bible. Other than that, my flight was uneventful.

I'm also managing to convert lots of people for my skateboard posse. I think deep down, everyone has a part of them that wants to skateboard. All of my friends are like "Can I try your skateboard?" I'm like "Yes! And then you can get your own board! And be part of my posse!"

Happy Birthday, Ben!

My friend Ben turned 20 today (Well, technically yesterday, because it's late, but whatever). You're all growed up, Ben! And now that I've started lying about my age, you're older than me, too!

Birfday

So, I had a rockin birthday anyway. I got my haircut and went skateboarding. Then Em and I went to this great Greek restaurant with my parents, and the waiters made me dance with them, and the belly dancer made me and Em both dance, and the food was delicious and it was great fun. Then Adam and his girlfriend came over, and we went to the Hustler store and sat around for hours looking through big expensive photography books.

The Hustler store is great. It's like a combination of a porno shop, Borders and Hot Topic.

Then we came back home and smoked pot, It was a very peaceful, fun birthday.

So I'm going to have a kick ass party when I get back to Oberlin. I've decided the theme of the party will be "Don't do anything you did at the last party, unless you were part of the hot gay man action on the couch. And don't puke in our fucking house."

It's My Birthday!

I turn 22 today! Which means, that's right . . . my driver's license has expired! And my bank account is overdrawn! (Okay, that has nothing to do with my birthday. It just sucks.)

It's official, kids. I'm old, broke, and I can't fucking drive.

Whoo!!! Go me! Go being 22! My life fucking rocks! Whoo!!!

Fun Times

Em and I went and saw Ghost World with my friend Jessie yesterday. Jessie totally rocks my world. In addition to being one of the few people in Pedro I can stand, he's totally funny and always willing to go see the weirdo movies that none of my friends will see with me. If only he had my weakness for bad teen movies, he would be perfect, but unfortunately he's a film student and has a little thing people call "taste" holding him back.

I'd been wanting to see Ghost World for a long ass time, because many many people have compared me to Enid, the main character. I have to say that I can see it, but I'm not nearly as mean as she is. However, this film did convince me that I should start dating creepy old guys. I don't really know any, though, so if you're a creepy old guy and interested, email me, okay?

We saw Ghost World in the Beverly Center, which is The Scariest Mall In The World. It's all nice and classy and filled with rich people and has all this crazy furniture everywhere. Emily and Jessie and I all felt underdressed and wanted to break things. But there were security cameras, so instead I spit on things and Em flashed the camera.

In other news, I turn 22 on the 24th, which I've decided is Far Too Old. So I'm going to start lying about my age. From now on, I'm nineteen. It's quite impressive, all that I've done at this tender young age, don't you think?

Alkie

Which drink are you?

Legally Pink

I went through a bunch of my clothes yesterday, which was super-productive since my home has basically become storage space for possesions I don't really like all that much, but can't throw away for whatever reason. I now have a whole big bag of clothes I need to alter in some manner, which is fun because it means I'll have new clothes soon! Soon being whenever I stop being lazy and start cutting up t-shirts. I also realized that some of the clothing that is now in the Goodwill bag may actually count as a crime against humanity.

We watched Legally Blonde yesterday. It was very cute. My parents liked it. Afterwards, Em and I were like "Wait a second! That movie makes you feel sorry for blonde girls who are way too attractive and obsessed with clothes! You're all 'Oh, poor sorority girls, those smart ugly girls are stealing all their men!'"

Grace-tastic

My friend Grace is spending Winter Term interning for a guy who manages punk bands in Hollywood, so Em and I have spent the last couple of days hanging out with her. This has involved me driving approximately a kazillion miles, but other than that it's been fun.

On Friday we went to this Thai place in Hollywood for dinner, where there was, you guessed it . . . a Thai Elvis impersonator. Yeah. It was great. The food was pretty good, too.

Then we went to a punk show at this club in downtown LA called The Smell, but all the punks were dressed alike (dark-blue cuffed jeans, sneakers, dark-colored t-shirt, hoodie, Bettie Page bangs and dark red lipstick) and the bands weren't that great, so we ended up leaving around eleven and driving back to my house to drink beer and have fun girly time.

Saturday we went thrift shopping all day. I got a t-shirt that says "The Amazing Scripture Memory Game" and one of those old electric clocks where the numbers flip over. There was a band Grace really wanted to see playing at a local coffeeshop, so we went to that show, but it turned out the band had cancelled. We watched the two other bands anyway. The first one was this mainly girls punk band with a totally hot butch chick playing guitar and jumping up and down and being cute. Of course, I refused to go talk to her because I suck. Usually I don't find butch girls attractive, but there's something about butch punk girls that makes them totally sexy. The second band was gothic industrial and sucked a lot. Emily and I speculated a lot about the organ player being on Qualudes.

Then I drove all the way out to fucking Studio City and back to take Grace home. I. Hate. The 101. Freeway.

Boring, Only Not

Em and I watched Swingers the other day. She had never seen it, and it'd been a while since I watched it. I'm not sure that when I saw it the first time I realized that the moral of the story was that straight boys are big ol' girls. Since I don't actually know any straight boys (except Chris), I'm not sure if this is true or not.

We drove over to Yvonne's apartment in Venice (and got really fucking lost due to my inability to follow my own directions), and hung out there. We went out for super yummy ethiopian food and gossiped a lot. Yvonne is the best gossip, because she has no shame and leads an exciting life. Also, she's totally willing to talk shit about anyone. I hate it when people are all "I can't say anything because that person's my friend." Whatever!

Emily and I have become vulgar and sexist in each other's company. It's mainly triggered by this one song by this guy who's whining about how this girl doesn't love him or some shit. It comes on the radio and we're all "Dude, she doesn't love him cause he's a pussy." "Yeah. She's all 'Dude, does your pussy hurt, already?'" "It's just that time of the month for him." "He's all 'Not tonight dear, my pussy hurts.'"

Emily is Here!

So, after much confusion at the airport, my fabulous roommate Emily is finally at my house. She arrived the day before yesterday, and was all tuckered out from traveling, so we stayed home and watched The Princess Diaries, which I highly recommend.

Yesterday we went to the mall and bought lots of Hello Kitty products. Also, I bought some sensible shoes for skateboarding. I went to a billion shoe stores and looked at tons of ugly, expensive shoes, and then bought some cute ones for fourteen dollars at Payless. Take that, stupid Vans store!

Then we went to Pasadena to see Neal. We went to this coffeeshop in Old Town where you can smoke flavored tobacco from hookahs, but it was crowded and we couldn't get a table. So instead we went to Urban Outfitters and looked at pictures of Japanese Hipsters, and then bought some whip-its and went back to Neal's and smoked pot and did whip-its out of plastic bags (because we are super ghetto) and watched Mr. Show.

Medical Attention

I finally went to the doctor about my knee, so everyone who has been bothering me about getting this checked out, you can stop now.

The doctor said that it was probably just a bruise, but it's also a really bad bruise, so it may take a month or longer to heal. She also sent me to be x-rayed, just in case, and they're going to call me if I broke something. She also talked a lot about how the lump on my knee is actually dead blood cells caught underneath the skin, which I felt I did not need to know about at all. I prefer to think of everything inside my body as happening in a mysterious, quasi-magical fashion. My knee is swollen because it's cursed, not because there are lots of dead blood cells stuck in there. Ick.

Why Smoking Is Sexy

The summer before I left for college, all I did was work as a stupid receptionist for my Dad's company, and stay up late looking at the internet. My clothes were always covered in sawdust, my job was incredibly boring, my best friend was in a different state, and I had stopped leaving my house.

Late at night, after my parents had gone to sleep, me and two of my guy friends would talk online and send each other weird and amusing porn we had found. Sometimes my best friend would call, and we'd talk until two or three in the morning. I had to be quiet so my parents wouldn't yell at me to go to sleep. (My parents were always yelling at me to go to sleep, citing the fact that I had to be up at six in the morning. I didn't care. So what if I fell asleep on the copy machine?)

At the end of the night, I would sneak out onto my porch and smoke a cigarette. I was careful not to get caught, flushing the butts down the toilet or flicking them into the neighbors' yard.

These things are permanently bonded in my mind, the smoking and the porn and the teenage rebellion. At the time, I was miserable, but looking back, it some how makes smoking kind of hot.

Yay!

More super hot retro porn on Nerve. Okay, this is fake retro porn, but whatever. It's hot, I tell you! Hot!

Also, you have to be a Nerve member, but that's free, so whatever.

Having to wait until my parents are asleep to look at porn and smoke cigarettes makes me feel like I'm in high school again, but kind of in a good way.

Heh. Heh.

Saw Margaret Cho's "I'm The One That I Want" tonight.

"I was like 'Am I straight? Am I gay?' and then I realized . . . I'm just slutty. Where's my parade? Where's slut pride?"

She is great. Although it was kind of weird watching a comic routine that talked about being a faghag and a slut with my parents. I was like "Ha ha ha! Oh, shit, am I alowed to laugh at that?"

Dude! I'm Smart!

So, you know how I've spent last semester bitching about how all I do is fuck off and I'm going to fail all my classes? I got straight A's. Well, okay, I got an A- in Programming Languages. You know, the class I was worried about not passing.

If I had known the secret to good grades was drinking, I would have started a long time ago.

Blay Blay

I saw my friend Jeffie yesterday, and we sat around and watched Hackers and Bring It On and gossiped and smoked cigarettes. All of these things being activities of which I vigorously approve. (Well, okay, not so much watching Hackers. But the lengths that movie goes to in order to make hacking not look boring as shit amuse the hell out of me. They're all "Well, people are typing now, but that's boring, so instead let's show some stock footage of . . . men on horses!" Oh, and I hope you all know that real hackers are no where near that hygenic or well-dressed. Oh, and that whole social skills thing they have in the movie? If they had that in real life, they wouldn't be hackers, they'd be functional members of society.) Oh, and Julie, Jeffie says hi.

I went out for lunch with my ex-girlfriend this morning. We talked about engagement rings. And she said that she wants to be pregnant by next year. Oh, and she's trying to get a job with Merrill-Lynch. Terrifying. She's only a year older than me. Oh, and I found out lots and lots of fun gossip, but I'm not going to tell you about it! Ha.

I'm a Plant

Jason has named one of his plants after me. I'm not sure which one in the picture is me.

This is the beauty of the internet.

Hey Kids

I'm back! And in pain! That's right, I managed to fall on my poor hurt knee about a zillion times. There's a bruise the size of my fist to the left of my poor right knee, and the kneecap itself is all swollen and feels like it's full of novocain - I can feel pressure when I touch it, but no sensation. I'm planning to get myself some medical attention when I muster up the energy to call my icky HMO. In the meantime, it only really hurts when I move or something touches it.

Oh, and I fell into a snow covered drainage ditch, burying my left leg in snow up to the knee, and banging my already injured knee on the cement driveway. I managed to pull myself out, and discovered I had bruised my left ankle and shin.

Other than bruises, I had a great time in Tahoe. I spent most of my time with Wendy, and we skied and snowboarded all day long, then drank and smoked pot till we passed out, and woke up the next morning in time to do it all over again. It's a wonderful life up in Tahoe. By the way, skiers, I'm on to you! I skied once I had fucked myself up too much to snowboard, and it's much easier than snowboarding! And you fall down less! You people are wusses.

Congratualations to Wendy, who just got a promotion to supervisor at Northstar! You still have to apply to grad school, Wendolyn.

Live from Tahoe

I fell and hurt my knee today. Now it's all bruised and swollen and sad. Other than that, things are good. Wendy and I frightened her Christian roommate by pretending to be a lesbian couple. My family is damn goofy after they get about five glasses of wine in them. Pot appears from nowhere. Snowboarding is the only activity other than sex that actually makes my ass muscles sore. Oh, and Wendy was very impressed by my ability to change clothes in a moving car. The beauty of growing up in LA. I can do practically anything in a car, moving or otherwise.

Wendy says hi, y'all.

Lord of the Ass

Lord of the Rings was way, way, way too long for someone who had gotten two to three hours of sleep the night before. Actually, if it had ended about halfway through, I would have enjoyed it. However, then I had to sit through another hour and a half of what appeared to be random plot twists (Oh shit! Not . . . more orcs!), cheesy special effects, and emotional moments.

Harry Potter was way, way better than this.

I was fond of the hobbits, since like them, I am short(ish), foolish, and averse to wearing shoes. And the elves - a whole race of tall, skinny, slightly femmey boys? Mmmmm.

If I don't post for the next week, have a good time doing whatever it is you people do.

Tired

So far, 2002 is looking good. Of course, I've also gotten approximately an hour of sleep, so I'm at the point where I'm completely fucking exhausted but not tired at all. I'm just planning to see how long it takes my body to actually fall apart. I'll go to bed once my arms fall off.

In the meantime, I'm procrastinating packing for my ski trip tomorrow. I'm going to Tahoe with my family, so I may not be around from the 2nd to the 9th or so.