It's Hip to be Cyclobutane

She said, "I know what it's like to be dead."

Fri, 24 Mar 2006 00:29:10 GMT

Okay, so I didn't exactly die after my horrific day of three finals, but I was quite brain dead. Dinner with a whole bunch of chem people was a perfect way to end the evening and I couldn't have asked for better company.

Being home for five days was great! Saw some friends, talked, spent time with my parents. Dad and mom really want me to help them to figure out what to get me for my birthday...the big 21. Sadly, I have no idea what I want. I think my choices were an ipod nano or....a game console or...something else...I think the ipod nano would come in handy, as much as I love gaming, I just dunno if I will have the time to actually play on one during the school quarter.

Now, I am back up in Davis, chillin with my sister until we leave for LA. She really wants to take me shopping and I've been told that I HAVE to try on whatever she and her friends throw at me. I am the living doll. Hopefully I can find something that I like and hopefully I meet up with some of my Davis going LA friends. That would be cool.

And now...the end is near...time to face...that final curtain

Sun, 12 Mar 2006 19:13:41 GMT

Finals are indeed approaching...and I must say...it went by extremly fast. So fast, that I honestly don't think I learned anything. WHAT HAPPENED!? It seems like I just stared these classes! Oh well, what can you do...cry I suppose but that doesn't really solve anything.

I got three finals in one day. THREE. All of them on the very first day, one at the very first hour, and one that follows right after that...wait a few more hours...and got another one from 4-6pm. I shall be a walking zombie. I will be unable to feel any mental or phyical pains or express any emotions. Though I might start raving like a lunatic. That could be fun I suppose. Me, running around acting crazy like. Strangers looking at me strangly and my friends simply saying, "Three finals." The strangers would just nod...understanding my mental breakdown. Ah...what a glorious day that will be. Plus side though, I plan on going out to eat that night...what a way to relax...friends...food...the double F's. Let's just hope that my grades will not fall into that catagory.

All you need is love

Wed, 15 Feb 2006 04:02:28 GMT

Ah...Valentines Day! I wish you all a happy Valentines Day. It's a day where boyfriends better think of a way to romance their girlfriends. A day where girlfriends frantically pull their outfits together for that special night out. A day where singles, such as myself, are told that it's okay to not have a boyfriend/girlfriend on this special day. Why, MSN has just told me that it's cheaper to not have a boyfriend and that I should treat myself to some spa. Ah benefits of single-hood...alone but with cash. In fact in the Aggie today, UCD's newspaper, there's a F*#$ Valentines Day dance or...whatever somewhere in the town. I also saw the re-occuring add that has been posted for the last two weeks about chlamydia. It features two giraffs kissing with the phrase "Remember the first time you were in love? It felt great." and then below it "Over half of people with chlamydia don't feel anything at all." Awww...how precious...doesn't it give you the warm and fuzzies? There's also the add about the health center passing out free condoms with a picture of Captain Condom...um...picture in the add not on the condom. I actually saw a Captain Condom today at the MU. Well Captainess...it was a girl sporting the CC super hero outfit. Decked in purple with a grass green cape...why...one could say that she took Barney, skinned him, and made herself a dashing spandex-like outfit. And to top it off...literally...on her head was a large purple condom. I salute you Captian Condom Girl...a condom on the head must not be very comfortable.

Alas on this day I had discussion for physical chemistry that lasted to 7pm. But that's okay, being single what would I do anyway. Now if you all will excuse me...I've got cash that won't be spent and a piece of cake calling my name.

It's all about the skillz

Mon, 13 Feb 2006 00:10:59 GMT

Liz and I went bowling last night. It was a lot of fun. My score was nothing grand however, I must say I truely have "the skills". Sure, anyone can bowl and hit the pins, but it takes skills to consistantly bowl towards one side of the lane and get it to roll on the edge of the gutter. It also takes skills to, while three pins stand, one in the center, one to the left and a bit behind and the last right behind the one in the centerm...it takes skill to hit the left most pin and have the other two untouched. Yes, I do have those skills and I bet you wish you had them too.

Bowling balls have feelings too. I found this out last night. Cameron tends to bowl angry and I believe that the ball doesn't appreciate it. Being unfriendly towards your bowling ball will make it resent you...and if the ball resents you it will hate you...and if it hates you...it will hurt you. Cameron seems to get hurt quite often while bowling. I would have told him my new found knowledge...but because I can predict his disposition after a bad frame...most of the time a grumpy disposition...I decided not to. One does not wish to hurt themselves nor be givin strange annoyed looks.

Karma plays a huge role in the game as well. Being kind to your "competition" brings you good luck...however fake kindness brings you bad luck and for some reason the person who accepts the fake kindness is doomed as well. Alvin, sadly, started wishing Liz and I good luck...however he didn't mean it sincerly...so Liz and I were doomed for a few frames and Alvin even longer.

So remember, if you don't get all the pins knocked down...explain to everyone that it's because you got the skills...and the arrangement of the remaining pins represents how you have achieved enlightenment or how it completes the fung shuei of the lane. Bullshit doesn't come from out of the ass..it comes from within the depths of one's soul. Ohmmm...

And that line works on all the ladies?

Tue, 11 Oct 2005 03:41:17 GMT

Men...I don't quite understand them, just like they don't understand me...however, what really confuses me is that men seem to forget that women don't like to be insulted about their physical appearances. It baffles me really and I think I speak for most women when I say that being called 'ugly' or 'fat' or any other equivalent to that is just not right. I am not quite sure why they forget this...do they themselves not mind being called such things? Or do they just not comprehend what they said? Are they not thinking? Probably not.

Example...today during one of my classes...my friends and I sat down in front of two boys, one was saving seats for his friends and the other talking to him in a friend like manner. So my friends and I joined in the conversation on "how best to save seats" when one of the guys turns to my friend and says "I bet you can really scare them(other people) off." Now he just meant that....she could be like..."grrrr...back off...seat is saved!" at least I hope that is what he meant. But sadly...that is not how it came out. I myself have been told such comments either by accident or on purpose. Now on purpose is just unforgivable...at least by accident you can laugh it off and make the other person feel some what guilty about it...you can't exactly do that to someone who meant the comment...cause well...they ment it...there's nothing to laugh about. So, a hint to all you gentlemen out there...women don't like to be insulted...and if you are going to insult them in a joking manner...then you have BETTER know her REAL well because you just dunno how she'll take it.

Another thing that confuses me are creepy guys. Sometimes I really wonder if they know just how creepy they are. Do they mean to be creepy or are they born like that? Didn't your mother tell you that being creepy is not the best way to pick up the ladies?

I had my own experience of creepiness this past summer. I was waiting for the bus (alone) when this car drives up next to it and the man inside the car asks me if I would like a ride. Thinking he's just being nice I politely decline. He continues to ask me over and over and over again...and I just keep politely declining while praying to God to make him go away already. After the 100th time of asking me...he asks me for my name. Now, since I dunno who the hell he is and he's already starting to freak me out...I tell him..."uh...no." He then tells me his name and continues to ask me if i want a ride. This "asking" continues for quite some time until he finally gives up and MAKES A U-TURN and drives off in the other direction. Why creepy? Well...he wasn't even going my way and I believe I saw his car parked a bit ways from where the bus stop was...which made me think that he was WATCHING me or something. Creepiness meter says: F*#^ING CREEPY! Seriously...dude...if you're out there...and by some chance you are reading this...what the hell were you thinking? Do you not understand how creepy you were!? How could you NOT know!? Seriously...you got issues.

So hint to all you gentlemen out there...don't...be...creepy.

My Immortal Enemy, I name thee "Jar"...

Sun, 09 Oct 2005 00:40:33 GMT

I hate to admit it, but for some reason unknown to me I can’t, for the life of me, open jars. Now, I can indeed open them, but 95.3% of the time, I must acquire assistance. I have tried the towel method, the knife method, the “running under hot water method”, “in-between the leg” method, the “banging the damn jar against the damn counter” method, and I have even gone so far as to try the “yelling at the damn jar and cursing it’s name so that the devil himself would take pity on me and strike the jar dead” method…all to no avail. How embarrassing it is for me, one who has defeated so many arduous tasks, such obtaining the mythical book of quantum mechanics and not understanding a single word of it, defeating and outsmarting the devilish/cute legendary goat named “Dog” who tried to head-butt me after tying me up with it’s leash, and least I forget the time I courageously ran away from the extremely malevolent deer who charged at me with all of her might.

Usually I can call upon my kindly roommates to assist me in the “jar opening” ritual with little embarrassment. However, at one point I had played the part of the damsel in distress. One night, as I was making pasta to fill my growing hunger I was conversing with a friend of mine, who happened to be male. As I took the pasta sauce jar out of the refrigerator, I prayed to the Gods to not embarrass me. Sadly, my immortal enemy had other plans. I tried, with all of my might, to open the jar, but no…I could not. My male friend just looked at me, as if to say, “Oh you poor woman…tsk tsk….you need a man to open a jar for you…how sad.” He offered to open the jar for me, not because he was kind, but he found it amusing. “NO!” I yelled, but as time passed…I handed him the jar…and with one insignificant twist…the jar was opened. “You loosened it for me” he said mockingly. I have no more pride…

Now, every time I reach for a jar…I can hear it laughing…plotting to defy me.