my life in a box

The other day I started packing for the big move. (Yes I found a new place to live which passed all the 12 steps of house hunting) I thought I should start early, to plan ahead, who knows what will happen.. a sudden flood, a fire, a UFO attack. So I started and surprisingly, after all of 20 mins my whole room suddenly fit inside a DELL box that my lap top came in. (it has extra room in it for styrofoam stuffing) I really do over mind the importance of my existence. Everything just kind of fit. What would happen if instead of walking around with a purse, we walk around with cardboard boxes? To carry around everything we own, and whoever has the biggest box is the winner, thats the one all the pretty girls would run after. Or maybe that may very well be a homeless person. (Hey P... the first box is the deepest!!)

Next to go was the couch. The thing was a piece of shit so I gave it away for free. These young people about my age came to pick it up and tried to shove the thing inside a Jeep Cherokee. I kept telling them it was a bad decision but they would not listen to me. They had one of the girl's sit in the trunk holding the back door down so the couch wouldn't fall out. I hope they made it ok. So the couch is gone, whoever slept on it... you all know who you are. Sorry its gone but will forever be remembered as the most disgusting thing you ever slept on. Unless you have slept on worse in which case... I'm sorry. I promise the next place will be a great pad and if I can fit a couch in there somewhere(my room will be a bit smaller) I'll make sure to get another shitty thing to use.

It is also kind of creepy being here all alone especially with most of the furniture gone. I keep hearing sounds and doors creaking and... can't wait to get out of here. Not like my roommates ever really were here when the furniture was still around, but hey I'm moving out.

This one is more of a vent, if its boring don't complain.
cheers.

tapioca heaven

So today in the midst of my finals tribute misery, I couldn't stand it anymore. I was locked away in my prison cell of a room in front of the computer starring at the screen, thinking... where did I go wrong? Why did I plan to go to college? Is this what college is really about? I kept telling myself otherwise but when you can't seem to remember what is at the top of Maslow's Hierchy of Needs pyramid and all you can think of is "fatty foods" and you are a junior in college and have taken more than a handful of classes and in each and every damn one of them learned about Maslow's stupid pyramid... you know there is something wrong. So I decided to give myself a break and go for a bike ride. As I rode into Asian heaven on Irving and 25ish area I suddenly craved a tapioca drink. How stupid of me not to remember, there is a sweet cure for every dilemma. This was the best strawberry and banana tapioca drink I have ever had, really its the only one. But when the shit hits the fan, you really gotta get yourself one of those. So now I am back in my room, but I am ready to tear these finals apart. Self actualization, Mr. Maslow, can only come with a sweet taste of tapioca.

lucid dreams

Have you ever had one of those nightmares where you are sitting in class and the professor says "Alright guys, turn in your papers" and you have this completely oblivious look on your face and wonder which day you dosed off and didn't even GET the assignment. Well, it became a bit of a reality when yesturday, as I was hitting my head against my desk in an effort to wake up my professor said "its that nightmare isn't it? it came true?" This whole incident makes me wonder why I have that student planner in the first place, I spent good money on that thing and used it, and through it all missed that 20% of my grade which accounted for this damn paper. But sitting in the front every day of lecture and asking rhetorical yet amusing questions to my sociology professor paid off. I GOT AN EXTENSION! And lucky for me, there was one other girl who had this horrible nightmatre come true. Lesson to be learned: don't go to school, it causes anxiety.
Currently: giving my soul away as I study for finals.

jabooty sister

GREAT WEEKEND!

why? Because my jabooty sister came to visit all the way from France. That's right, V and P reunited at last! I had one of the most fun, spontaneous, and entertaining Friday nights in a long time. And all because I had my otha booty here with me. The night started out with hugs and kisses and drifted into the unknown, or better yet- known part of town we here like to call Castro. Meeting some people up at the Metro and feeling all so left out since no male eyes were on us, we enjoyed the evening in each other's company. Let me just say that this place makes the strongest drinks. One apple martini later I found myself in the oblivious yet happy unknown. Good jokes, good times, and good people. I found myself enjoying my time here in the city. Thanks P you really are good at helping me feel like I'm with my friends once again!! Later that night we all got a big craving for a big, fat, juicy burger. Thank god Baghdad Cafe was right across the street. The three of us ordered the biggest burgers on the menu. Yum. I think that we can all vouch until the day we die that those were the best burgers we have ever had. Of course seeing as how it was me and Pauline and a couple of drinks in our systems, we had to do something outrageously stupid. Bathroom fun is where we started. Its amazing how difficult it is to flush the toilet wearing a very pointy cowboy boot. I also kept pushing Pauline to ask the waiter why the place was named Baghdad Cafe. So she did and said "Umm.. Excuse me, why is this place called Baghdad Cafe are there burgers in Baghdad or something, I don't understand?" To which he very rudely replied that its named after a movie. I hope the movie was just as good as the burgers. How do you get home at 3 am? You have to chase the owl bus which comes once every 45 mins and run into a tree, hit your face, and fall down on the ground like a damsel in distress. That is Pauline;s way of doing it at least. After disoriented P was brought back to her drunken senses we made our way to the bus stop waiting for the next owl. The wait was not so bad, we were kept company by a pseudo bum who looked like Lenny Kravits and drummed around with one drum stick. Good times. Well, that's a short wrap up of the weekend. It's just great to be around my best friends once again.

adventures in house hunting

Ever since my roomates told me that they are moving out (about 3 weeks ago), I have been desperately looking for a new place to stay. Now, San Francisco is not your ordinary place with ordinary people with ordinary houses that you can call home. I have moved around here enough times to know right away if its a yey or a nay. Last night was some adventure. I probebly saw 5 places in less than 2 hours. This is how these things usually go:
1. You are late because there is no damn parking in this damn city so you end up driving around like a moron for 15 mins.
2. You come in, check the place out and get the vibe
3. If the vibe is good, you ask more questions. (skip to #5 if its good)
4. If the vibe is bad you leave ASAP trying to be as nice as possible, you don't want to get a parking ticket!
5. What is the dynamic like in the house?
6. Do you smoke, drink, do drugs?
7. What kind of drugs do you do?
8. How often do you OD?
9. Would I be held responsible?
10. Who cleans? How often?
11. How often are there drive by's?
12. Are you uptight about people spending the night.

If the answer to #12 is yes, hurry up and get out of there because by this point your car is being towed and it is definately not worth it.

All in all, last night I made the pleasant aquantance with a bunch of wild crazy girls, a flaming homosexual couple, a girl who appeared to be a coke addict, and some other unimportant and slightly boring people. Wish me luck in my search.

beatniks. beat kicks.

So today I decided to actually spend my saturday venturing into the SF life which I have yet not explored. After doing mild research and aimlessly looking for somehting I did not exactly know I was looking for, I came across a treasure. I found the address of Jack Kerouac's house, when he lived in SF. Wow! Excitement rushing up and down my spine. Me, the Jack knack freak. Me, constantly rapping his words. Sf here I come, I thought. So I went to see where this genius lived to find a quiet little house in the middle of what appeared as an alley way of a street. I saw it, I snapped a picture of it in my head, and on my camera and left. Not knowing if that was really the correct house and if he really did live and write and drink there, I thought.. what the hell, millions of crazy wonderful amazing people have ventured into places where I have probebly been and seen and, so what? Anyway, not to sound sad and depressing the experience was good. I explored a bit more in North Beach of SF where the old Beats used to hang out and checked out the all famous City Lights book store where amazing beats like Kerouac and Allen Ginsberg used to hang out and get their stuff published. I advise anyone who is around the area to check it out. The store has a whole floor dedicated to these guys. More to come.

my blog cherry has been popped.

Out of a bit of laziness, a bit or restlessness, and boredom, I have been coerced into this new world of blogging. So far this experience has been nothing but mind torturing. Question after question of what my blog name should be and what the site name should be is brutal and unusual punishment this time of the night for me. However I will give this blog "therapy" as some may call it, a benefit of the doubt. Who I am? Cynical, judgemental, and a highly pessimistic individual. Who I really am? Perpetually unusual, highly enthusiastic, somewhat enigmatic, and constantly misusing vocabulary kinda girl. All who read my new page, thanks for the curiosity and I hope my thoughts bring you whatever it is that you are looking for; delight, a deep thought, a really shallow thought, or just a smile.

Good Night.