After class to the professor and I am not making this up:

Student: “Is there a reason I never get called on in class? Do you have something personal against me? Is it the way I’m raising my hand?”

Professor: …

Of course, the next day, she called on him in class and then proceeded to have him answer every question for the entire lecture. It was painful for my ears. If you heard him speaking, you would understand.

Then you have all the students who like to waste everyone’s time asking skylab questions, the law version of “if a tree fell down in the forest, would anyone hear it?” It’s hard not to feel intense hatred towards these people. Along with the gunners, we have the one jerk who unfailingly, from Day 1 of our orientation, puts his feet up on the desk and leans all the way back in his chair, no matter who’s speaking, whether it be the Dean of the school, the professors, or a California Supreme Court Judge. WHO DOES THAT?!???? Oh, and he constantly complains about how he’ll have to give up his beloved weed. Maybe you should have thought of that before you applied to law school, jerkface.

It feels unbelievably claustrophobic here. I feel like I have no safe place here. I’m questioning my reasons for being here, especially at this school. The small class size, instead of feeling comforting and supportive, feels like I’m back in high school, and every day, something happens that could be a scene from Mean Girls, emphasizing how the environment here is so petty and immature.

AND THE ASIAN FLUTE UPSTAIRS WON’T STOP PLAYING.

Friday night, went out with no expectations but to observe people under socially-charged situations. Some douche from UPenn kept grabbing and smushing me against his short compact body, telling me I was “hot” and “good-looking” over and over. He looked like Charlotte’s wedding planner from SATC, except blonde:

Yeah..

Poor UPenn Douche told his friends that he didn’t want to leave with them because “I want to hang out with you! We can hang out here and have fun, and I’ll take you home, how’s that?”

Obviously, UPenn Douche went home alone.

The last I saw of him, he stood around by himself, holding his drink and scanning the crowd nervously. The anxieties of being single, douchy, and compact…

And then there was this guy “Kyle” who was skinny, kind of dweeby, and obviously trying to be cool. He came up to me and said, “Hi, I’m Kyle” and tried talking to me, except I was distracted by other people and the loud music… and, I didn’t care much for what he wanted to say so I replied to all his questions with, “WHAT??!? WHATTTT??? WHAAAAT?!” hoping that he would get annoyed and move on to the next Asian girl. When D’s friend A came back with my drink, “Kyle” pointed to him and mouthed, “Is that your boyfriend?“
Me: “WHATTT?? WHAT!?”
“Kyle”: *stare*…..[mumbles inaudibly]
Me: “WHAT WAS THAT?????”
“Kyle”: “HI I’M KYLE.“
LOL.

Meanwhile, one of the account managers on my team from work stood by looking rather creepy and unmarried, which was just dandy, especially since I had taken the day off.

So that was as adventurous as my weekend got. I went home totally drunk. All 7 freaking drinks didn’t really kick in until I got into the car. Which was wonderful, considering how self-conscious I was in my stupid boots and sweater while all the other girls were in tank tops or less. As always, I did not expect to go dancing.

I wonder if Dreamworks Dude will ask me out again. He talks a lot–meaning he has a lot to say–and I don’t, unless people ask me questions, and he didn’t really. I did ask him a LOT of questions, since that’s what I do to deflect attention from myself; so in that sense, mission accomplished.

Some bullet-points from our little get-together:

• He set-up an open tab. That made me rather uncomfortable. And then he suggested we order food, which was considerate, but still, I would’ve preferred that he at least pay by order, not by tab. And he ordered fondue for dessert! That somewhat embarrassed me because fondue’s like a romantic dessert and I didn’t want to have a romantic dessert with him…not to mention, the flame (no pun intended) attracted a lot of attention.
• Either he likes to name-drop and is really a douchebag, or he was trying to impress me, or both. I didn’t say anything to try to impress him. Maybe I should work on that. But how can I impress a mature man who has a lifetime of experience when I’m here trying to GET my life started??
• He pressed his hand against my back as we left the place, which signaled genuine interest on his part. I had my poker face on the entire night. As usual.
• He took note of the number on the taxi I rode home. That was nice. And he told me to text him when I got home. Which was nice too.
• I kept thinking how he’s like a family friend, or like an uncle or something. Plus, the sunlight kept filtering into the place when we met up around sun-down, and I couldn’t help but notice the sparseness of his hair by the rays coming through his head.

I still wonder if he knows how old I am! I mean, most people Google anyone they’re interested in, so why wouldn’t he. The age gap could be an issue. Is an issue. Should be an issue, I should say.

Next time, I will blog about something unrelated to guys. Because I realize that I am such a girl, and so frivolous-a-one that I wonder if I should really post this! But hopefully this was somewhat entertaining… it certainly allows me to analyze my own personality and priorities… sigh.

Behold, the gamut of cold, wet, and miserable!

And observe, the weather report from my hometown down in southern California.

Lo! The beauty of consistency, purity, everlasting warmth.

It makes me weep, truly. Ah, the gnashing of teeth…

Also. I killed five ladybugs the other day. Maybe more. The grass is just full of them these days.

Here is the only survivor.

The blog hasn’t had any love in months! As the only thing I can think of at the moment is what I want to eat, for your reading pleasure is a list of foods I want to eat:

-warm tayaki

-chofu

-hot chocolate with a gigantic melting homemade marshmallow

-mexican hot chocolate with a gigantic melting homemade marshmallow

-lasagne

-strawberry chupa chup

-scalloped potatoes

FYI – things one takes for granted, for example, breathing out of one’s nose, really shouldn’t be taken for granted. Not being able to breathe out of your nose sucks.

apologies if this post wasn’t very entertaining.

runs away

don’t laugh. she’s already ashamed of her bug-eyed ugliness.

I say high, you say low
You say why, and I say I don’t know
Oh, no
You say goodbye and I say herro
Herro, herro
I don’t know why you say goodbye
I say herro
Herro, herro
I don’t know why you say goodbye
I say herro

Why, why, why, why, why, why
Do you say good bye
Goodbye, bye, bye, bye, bye

Oh, no
You say goodbye and I say herro
Herro, herro
I don’t know why you say goodbye
I say herro
Herro, herro
I don’t know why you say goodbye
I say herro
herro, herro
I don’t know why you say goodbye I say herro
Herro

Herra, heba herroa
Herra, heba herroa

The only thing that’s wrong with the picture above is that it’s missing Mo.  Outrageous.

“This is a serious problem. You’re 160 pounds and obese.  I’m putting you on a strict diet until you lose 40 pounds.”

She scratched some calculations with a pencil, calorie-counting, and decided I had two weeks to lose the extra bulge. 

“Two weeks?! How is that even humanly possible?”

I don’t remember if I looked physically bigger, but there I was, 160 pounds.  Definitely bonus-sized.  Horror.

I remember being peeved at E.M.A. for not telling me that I was clearly looking significantly chunkier.  I mean, with my frame, it was like I had turned into a Costco-sized version of myself. Gargantuan and fleshy.

Too bad I don’t remember if I had rolls.

Eater: Sometimes Only Creativity Will Move Bubble Tea Drinks

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Girl: Oh my god, I look so good in this. I wish my boyfriend could see me.

Boy: Yeah, it’s too bad his eye got pecked out by that chicken.

WTH.