pourquoi?

"Twitter is over capacity.

Too many tweets! Please wait a moment and try again."

Didn't know it could o.d. on tweets. I'm not even following that many people.

Also, THE GRUDGE just started on Sci-Fi. My curiosity has gotten the better of me...I don't know why I'm watching it. The fact that the opening credits are written in red already has my heart pumping =( It's okay though, roomie has wisely suggested that I set the surf channel to TLC's Jon & Kate Plus 8 so I can switch immediately if it becomes too creepy. Something tells me that I'll be watching the lovely Gosselin family for the next two hours while writing my journal.

O god, my hand is on my face, I'm yelling at asian girl who is stupidly following creepy noises. Don't go down into the basement, silly....OMGZWTH. She's dead and I'm changing the channel.

oh hello, blog

This quarter, as any, is going by much too quickly, and is leaving me feeling very blah-sé about school and life in general (as extreme as that sounds). I seem to have started off on the wrong foot, health-wise, which accordingly affected academics and now add some personal issues.

Feeling a little overwhelmed and discouraged, but hopefully things fall into place and I can "get my sh*t together" over the course of this week.

So as not to be completely depressing in this comeback post, good ol' microblogging has brightened up my mailbox.
Who wouldn't love to see "Barack Obama is now following you on Twitter!" "traderjoes is now following you on Twitter!"
I just need Britney Spears to start following me, and my life will be complete.

hodgepodge

I haven't made contact with the outside world since Sunday. Yep, for three days I've been isolated infomercial lady. Tomorrow, sunlight will touch my skin! Clearly, I'd spoken much too soon about "feeling better" yesterday, but I truly believe that the worst is over after today *knock on wood* and that it's all uphill (downhill?) from here.
--"It's all downhill from here" positive connotation since down is an easier trek than up? or negative because downhill implies a downward spiral into bad juju/plummeting to a grim death etc. Please enlighten me!

The power went out tonight for a number of minutes (avoiding "few" or "several", since I'm still not sure what each entails numerically. Please share wisdom on this too!) Seconds after, I was useless. I forgive myself though, because I had a pot of water boiling on the stove--a gas stove, mind you--and some taquitos just about done in the toaster oven, so I had multiple things on my mind. Took me a while to gather my thoughts in TOTAL darkness, but I caught a glimpse of blue flame, panicked, and turned that baby off fast before god knows what would've happened. I then proceeded to wave my arms around in zombie/mummy-like fashion trying to feel my way through the curtain to the room, find phone, stumble back to kitchen, use phone light to find lighter and light candle. Wouldn't you know it, the power surged on right at the moment that flame met wick. Though the toaster oven shut off, the taquitos kept cooking under the heat. I mourned the blackened, unsalvageable beef treats and made myself some new ones.

Twitter and I fail each other. I'll just let that first and last update fester on my profile page.

So bummed I missed Tucker Max and the apparent In 'N Outing with him afterward. I hope that he was as blunt, douchebaggy, brutally honest and entertaining as his site and stories are.

Today, I no longer sound like a male donkey, but more like a dying carburetor. So funny, these lovely phases that a cold/bronchi/strep has.

TV scoop: DAMAGES, 24, AMERICAN IDOL, all back and awesome. GOSSIP GIRL, juicy as ever--Chuck hotter than ever, resembling R.Patz as Edward Cullen more and more. TOP CHEF, still yummy. 30 ROCK, side-splitting. Trash tv, trashier.

Oh, you know that great "perk" about being sick: losing your appetite = losing weight. I guess that doesn't really apply to everyone. If anything, I'm eating more because the kitchen is has been so close to me for 72 hours x Megan likes to eat every 30 minutes...

Don't worry, I am still reading my Newsweeks and walking around plenty...to the kitchen, the living room, and back too!

karma chameleon

Maybe this week-long cold-bronchitis-strep thing is karma finally biting me in the butt for my academic failures last quarter. Of course, in the fall, I'd intentionally sleep through or miss classes, but I actually began winter on the right foot and have now missed because I'm the walking dead.

But ohhhh my gawwwwd is Hamburger Helper the best damn thing ever! The bacon cheeseburger kind.
Roomie and her bf just made and served some for me (sweeties). Of course, I've always known that eating anything dairy-related while you're sick is no good, but the heart wants what it wants. Oh, we're all sick, together. Won't you come join our viral/bacterial themed party? Dress up as your favorite illness!

Tucker Max tonight? Perhaps I will go and sit silently until my coughs interrupt his F-bombs and R-rated stories.

For now, I'm enjoying each rich, cheesy, beefy bite with my writing assignments strewn about my desk and limitless television viewing options: Muppets, Deal or No Deal, Colbert, Rock of Love Bus, Benny Hill...

here's my take

Renee seemed to win for worst dressed at the Globes. Maybe her hair was a little Miss Havisham, and the top half of her dress a bit sheer (not always a bad thing, right fellas?) but I honestly don't think hers, nor nearly anyone's outfit was so bizarre or overly couture, frumpy, skimpy, tacky, ___ -y enough to be considered ugly. If anyone, the worst dressed could've been me, gracing the red carpet in my Costco fuggs (fake uggs), Buffalo Exchange jeans and chic GAP outlet peacoat. Had I not been lazy, I could have crashed the Globes since they were nearby at the Beverly Hilton and made such an appearance.

Biggest observation: a whooole lotta accents and that is a-okay with me. Aussie ones, Brit ones, Irish ones, Indian ones; Simon Baker, Kate Winslet, Colin Farrell, Frieda Pinto, respectively, and many more to make me oggle and melt and wish I had one too.

I won't ramble on about my thoughts on all the awards. In a run-on nutshell: everyone deserved their wins, even a nomination is freakin' fantastic (because what am I doing with my life at age 20?), they were all ridiculously good looking, speeches were eloquent/succinct/touching or all and some darn funny--Tina and Tracy, funny woman and Barack power.

On a random note, Maral and I shared a great experience together in discovering a Spanish tv game show titled "12 Corazones." With our pathetic combined knowledge of the language and powers of observation, we concluded that a) the host was drunk and possibly a man--she was very obnoxious and aggressive, b) the male contestants looked like your neighborhood creeper with a molestache, c) the female contestants bought all their clothing from Wet Seal, and d) we are fairly certain that the show ended with four complete strangers being wed by the host. But even all this crazy cannot beat hour after hour of my biggest vice: trash/reality tv on Vh1 and MTV. Goodbye, IQ!

one of those days

I woke up with a cold sweat, fever, and migraine so I could immediately tell that this was going to be a b-e-a-utiful day. Slept through classes, called in sick for work, and felt miserable all day long. Ate meals as buffers to take Airborne, vitamins, and Motrin. Joy, joy, joy.

You know that phase of sick when you're just too hazy in the head with your nose so stuffed that you can't breathe properly (and always just one side at a time--probably t.m.i--but that bugs the hell out of me) and you ultimately sit as a useless, catatonic mass of flesh taking up space? I was the quintessential "that" today. Just stared sniffling and coughing at one mindless trash tv series after the other, although I found Vh1's Tool Academy (a school to turn tools into better boyfriends!) most amusing.

There's also been a weird stink, like that of dead skunk, lingering outside all day. This is unfortunately ironic because we've had the window open all day in attempts to let "fresh" air circulate through our apartment.

The day really kicked into gear when I discovered that I'd recently subscribed to a weekly email digest for a local online men's magazine--I swear I did not realize this when I signed up. It lured me in because it's actually a rather nifty site that gives you tips on undiscovered happenings, trends, and places in Los Angeles. Once I had my revelation, though, all the manly aspects started to pop out at me as noticeably as Pam Anderson's chest would to anyone who isn't blind. For one thing, the subcaption at the top of the page (like our CEC taglines) refreshes with witty phrases like: "you're getting laid tonight", "by god, you're a stud", "you're beard/fresh shave looks spectacular", "your fly's open", or the obviously gender neutral, "your manhood is stupendous". This must be for MEgaN! Not to mention the cars, sex+dating, sports+fitness, career+money, home+gadgets tabs. I did find something infomercial-worthy: the Calibowl, anti-spill, good for messy men, babies, and me! So, dudes out there, I recommend you experience the thrill

Just now, I was washing my face and stepped towards my towel when I heard a snap-crackle-pop! It was my hardened left contact lens that I'd dropped and lost just before winter break. I had spent ten fruitless minutes with one good eye looking for that darn thing, gave up and opened a new lens. This is probably not a big deal to most, but I was extremely troubled by the uneven number of lenses I had. The worst part, and it's almost too shameful to admit, is that I deliberately threw out my right contact that was "bothering me anyway" and opened a new one so my pairs would be even (I know, really? Lonely, infomercial lady fate just seems to grow closer in reach everyday).

To top it all off, I'm wide-eyed and wiiiide awake from the delicious sleep in and am realizing how many written assignments are due this week. La-la-la life is wonderful?

just my luck

Roomie somehow managed to get bronchitis and strep throat (for the fourth time this year?!) over the weekend, so unless she ceases to speak or breath anywhere I may go, I'm doomed.

Preventative measures can also be taken from my side, some more extreme than others. My parents did suggest that I wear a mask, yes, a mask like so:

Meet Doctors McSexy and O'Mysterious.


I'm not sure what's more disturbing: the fact that they have these at home or that they suggested I wear it. If that's not parental love, I don't know what is.

A more mild precaution I can take is to gargle with Listerine several times a day. I took Airborne as well as a vitamin a meal and several hours apart (oh, the irony if I were to O.D. on vitamins) in preparation for roomie's arrival. At the moment, I know I have a cold. Today, I referenced Web M.D. on the specifics of strep throat, so that if I do start recognizing symptoms, I can do something about it right away. I've learned from my friend's and my own past experiences that Ashe Center diagnoses are at the level of a kindergartener pointing to where it hurts. My friend's swollen lymph nodes being explained as just a mild cold and dismissed only to grow worse into infection, disquieting, to say the least.
__________________________
One plus is the upcoming weather; it'll be a tad toastier over the week!

Though I did have some rare sightings of native New Yorkers from past visits there, only in L.A. do you see Miss winter boots with scarves passing by Mr. summer bermudas with flip flops. How quickly the students identified the weather today and switched to shorts and shades! They certainly did not procrastinate on that.

Yesterday, dad and I concluded that you just can't tell what the weather is like in Los Angeles by what anyone is wearing. This is not a compliment for us Los Angelenos. We spotted three BFFs: one winter'd out in riding boots over skinny jeans under peacoat and scarf, another in flip-flops, jeans and gaudy Ed Hardy tee (gaudyuck!), and the third in white shorts with a raglan sweater and Keds. So wth, is it hot? cold? just right? Then I looked down only to realize that I was wearing sandals, jeans and a t-shirt under a sleeveless sweater and I cried inside.
___________________
The work has piled on. After all, it's week two out of ten, and time to get busy. So in my sickly nasal voice, I bid thee a good day.

nrb and other adventures

No, I didn't forget the -q, though I wish that the place we went to tonight had some NRBQ songs.

For those who are unaware: Korean NRB = No Rae Bahng = music room, describing the private room atmosphere. Karaoke refers more to the live open-mic style in lounges, cafes, and bars.
I don't think I'm confident enough to participate in the latter, unless, of course, inebriated, but such chances are slim.

We moseyed over to FEEL in Koreatown. Cushy room, mics, LCDs, tambourine, wigs, cheesy classics + 90s pop + ghetto goodness = good times in great company.

Once we were back in apartmentville, we did a bit of party hippity hopping. First standing awkwardly, cell phones out, among the various drunks--ADHD, emo, obnoxious, cheerful--then eventually spread CEC dancejoy. Surprisingly, I didn't encounter anyone from the fifth category--the "so damn plastered/hammered/gone embracing the bathroom floor, the toilet is my BFF". People came and went, but four of us stuck it out for the night pulling out all the best moves (sprinkler, lawn mower, shopping cart, some modern interpretive dance to an unidentifiable song etc...). We couldn't get "Low" enough and attempted to use stanky leg to help us get closer to the floor. Keeping up my tradition of making excellent decisions, I continued to use every ounce of voice I had left to sing Britney at the top of my lungs. As you can probably guess, voice is dead. "But you'll wake up with that "sexy rasp!" No, no, I'm not that lucky. I'll wake up with a squeaky, male, honkey-donkey sound.

I have to wake up early tomorrow to help drive our radio news team group to the LA Times for a freelance journalism workshop. The event sounds promising, so I hope to gather many pearls of wisdom.

Then, it's food shopping galore with dad. We're hitting up Costco and the Korean market. I am ECSTATIC about stocking up the fridge/freezer. With each opening of the door and sighting of emptiness, a part of me has died, or, at least my stomach has been crying out to me. Afterward, I'm excited to try out whatever new restaurant dad has picked from our beloved 2009 Zagat LA and SoCal Restaurant Guide. Our food bible, our friend.

Side rant: I'm semi to completely serious when I say that North of Wilshire apartments need to be blown up and leveled. LA is already congested enough, with the worst roads to drive on. It just needs to be done.
- - - - - - -
HSM4 is casting. I don't see why they need to start HS again with a new cast. What is so wrong about V.Hudgens, ZacE and co. all magically attending the same college? Disney is all about magic. I also discovered that I could totally sign up to try out as an extra, or better yet, audition for a bigger role. If I had the talent/ability for it, my ultimate dream would be to sing and dance in a musical. I know, I'm a huge dork. Maybe I'll write it, UCLA The Epic Musical: over 47 of the most random short and long, breaking into song and dance moments from the farthest reaches of Westwood, up Bruinwalk, and beyond. I'd have to fill the pages with the cheesiest lines ever.

Because I've nothing better to do right now except sleep (that would be the wise decision), I'll lay out my goals for the weekend:
-conference + food shopping
-French homework
-radio article
-Wuthering Heights (ew. this one just will never grow on me)
-gonna have to keep the party going with Uncle Tom in his Cabin. woo
-laundry

All of the above is easily doable. I just need to sit my lazy butt down and get 'em done.
I also need to watch the rest of the Oscar contenders and get my Netflix going again. Unaware that I could freeze my account, I wasted a month's payment over break. Grr.

six degrees of lameness

I was feeling ambitious and planned to attend six consecutive events this crisp, Thursday night of first week.

End result: the four of us did homework. Silver lining: I seem to be following through on a resolution or two: I am studying harder by cutting the fun!

We might party it up at Red Mango, it's Thursday, the night is young and open to some krazy fro-yo shenanigans...

i found him

His name is Joe. He's a trader. He feeds me scrumptious foods. We're getting married in the Spring.

what the...

I was just IMed from a "GodlyCoho" asking if I liked puppies, to which I responded "yes, who is this?"

No further response. If this is someone I know, I hope you don't trail off like that to everyone online. "Do you like puppies" leaves much room for the imagination--I hear it said in Heath Ledger's Joker voice paralleling the creepiness of "I have candy in my car for you, kid..."

So, GodlyCoho, whoever you are, I like puppies and find you disturbing at the moment.
- - - - - - - - -

My first tweet occurred tonight. I'm not enthused, rather, discouraged over the fact that I'll be spending twice the time updating my status, but created my account regardless, because I fall prey to anything that helps me procrastinate.

Second day dinner: steak with onions (feeling ambitious), SPAM, funky-ass rice (there is reason our cooker was marked down on clearance), chips 'n' dip: ruffles with french onion and tortilla with salsa, Nerds and shortbread cookies for dessert, water to wash this random college dinner down.

If only I were as motivated by reading for class as I am by food.

I may doze off in lecture again tomorrow and have a doozy of a story about how I sank into a deeper sleep and spoke nonsensical things aloud in class. Excited?

I am.

Then and now

I find it difficult to reflect upon all of 2008 since last December. What I do recall is having a great time, for the most part, regretfully at the cost of my academics. Grew a bit more as a person mainly due to summer experiences with the Film Festival which gave me a confidence boost about my capabilities, helped me become more assertive and improve networking, paired with Camp Kindle which was most humbling and emotionally exhausting.

Shame on me. I managed to procrastinate on my resolutions.
"Procrastinate less" is unquestionably one pledge I am making. The rest of the list is equally unspecific and banal, but true:

Eat healthier.
Give more.
Spend less.
Explore further.
Exercise more. Cut the holiday fat!
Study harder. Cut the fun!
Oh, and quit smoking, drinking, sleeping around...I jest, of course!

Big emphasis on cutting the fun this cold, cold quarter. I carry a full load with four classes, internship, work, CEC, radio, possibly participating in Dance Marathon and getting involved in Spring Sing. Insanity.

Sigh of relief that I was able to postpone jury duty. As a student, that's all you get, just one, beautiful postponement and maybe a transfer as well (my next step). Sure, I could have perjured myself with the ol' "I'm having surgery," "Caring for a minor," or "No speakuh Engrish?" certainly believable given that I was born and have lived here my entire life.

And now, a first day anecdote:

I snoozed and excused my way from 7:15 to 8:00am this morning, finally stumbled off of top bunk, looked up my classes, put on some oddly colorful and probably mismatching clothes (purple jeans with a green-white striped hoodie with new blindingly white sneakers? don't ask, I can't even begin to understand my thought process while selecting these), crane-walked over to French IV.

The TA had us pair up and ask introductory questions with a partner, whom we would then present in a few sentences. Just my luck, I was paired with dreamy looking Portugueuse Ph.D. student who spoke six languages. Of course, when he said that in French, I replied with an equally sophisticated "Wow" in French accent. Good times.

Class ended early, I hustled over to LuValle for a chocolate croissant (because it's darn good, not because it's French), then wandered into Dodd for American women writers. The professor is perfectly amiable, and not a crazy gung-ho feminist, and I'm fairly excited about the readings. The fault was all mine. I simply was not going to make it from 9am-1pm of classes with such little sleep. I performed the infamous doze-off-head-bob-sudden-wake move about three times, once involving my elbow sliding clean off the teeny arm desk, another involving me letting go of my syllabus which flew gracefully like a paper plane three feet away from me. My written notes also trailed off illegibly in downward directions. Embarrassing, much?

Three mini-naps energized me for English 10C just down the hall. The professor is young, anti-Norton Anthology (hurrah!), hyper and passionate about our learning. I am inspired.

Had an hour after 10C to get lunch before post office duties. Ackerman = "hell is other people." I was dumb enough to think I had a chance to possibly buy some Panda Express and textbooks. Gave up, bought my three-cheese Wetzel's Pretzel and did a bit of homework (uh huh, that's right) in the CEC office.

Post office had a line out the door, around the corner alllll day. To call it a train wreck is an understatement. At closing it looked like the Gaza Strip. We'd run out of bins, bags, with media mail and packages stacked almost ceiling high and trash galore. Sadly, that's most likely how it will be for this first week back.

Finally got to the textbook store after work, carried a stack of 17 novels in line to the register. "English major?" "Yep." Sigh. I did leave with some ASUCLA coupons and good reads. If only they needen't be annotated and analyzed to the core, I'd enjoy them so much more.

Roomie kindly picked me up from Ackerman Terminal, we Ralph's runned since our fridge consisted of butter, an onion, and various dressings. Got dropped back off at Ackerman for radio meeting. Too lazy to make anything we bought, Shawn suggested we order Thai Cafe. Ate well at his place, watched some of HOOK, conversed about Brain Age and what final age is good--apparently 20 is the best age score to get...so I've reached the peak of my intelligence. Uhm...sad. All downhill from here, Benjamin Button style?

Watched the new episode of Gossip Girl online, so horribly good, and here I am.

la fin.