I learned long ago, never to wrestle with a pig, you get dirty; and besides, the pig likes it.
I don't care if it's the unpopular choice, I'm still going to do what's right. "De-friending" me on facebook, messenger, whatever form of communication you find to be controlling in my life won't stop me. I'm stronger now. I've made my choice, I accept it and I'm proud of it. Retaliate all you want, you won't get me dirty.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Monday, February 16, 2009
One Brain Cell.
Let me tell you a story about someone in my life who I nickname OBC (One Brain Cell). Now, I may have said this before but actually, this girl might be the worst roommate i've ever had. Yes, Verizon was pretty bad; however, OBC is worse.
First, OBC has a problem with dishes. As in, she likes to stack them high. Furthermore, what is a purpose of a dish rack? To dry dishes? Yes. What type of dishes? Clean ones? Oh my! What a concept! OBC likes to stack the dirty dishes in and along the sink and then transfer the dirty dishes in the drying rack. Really? REALLY?! Who raised you? Where in your ONE BRAIN CELL did you think it was OK to place a DIRTY DISH (multiple ones multiple times since we've moved in) on the drying rack. To dry dirty dishes? Yum, please. I love having to scrape off your weird foods off the fucking dishes that you decided TO DRY DIRTY. Asshole.
Second, your cat is a piece of shit. Well, no, your treatment of how the cat should live in our home is a piece of shit. The cat itself = cute. You = not cute. You = idiot. Not only have I told you time and time again that the cat needs to stay outside because i'm allergic to it, but you seem to think that cats DO NOT SHED. ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?! And then you scream at me to "give you a fucking break" when I ask you to sweep up your cat's dander and how you refuse to "fucking clean after" the cat because how am I "supposed to know how to be responsible for a pet when [I] don't own one." Are you fucking for real? I DONT OWN A PET BECAUSE I CANT TAKE CARE OF ONE BECAUSE YOU HAVE TO BE RESPONSIBLE. You can't just fucking get the pet high in a closet with you because you feel like. You have to feed it, bathe it and take care of it. ALL of which you don't do. Furthermore, I love how I told you in the beginning that I thought your cat had fleas and you told me it was "impossible" because she just had medication put on her. Now, you change your statement and say that "oh, [my boyfriend] told me that fleas can lay eggs and that [oops] I guess she had fleas that laid eggs because I had a lot of bites the other day." And THEN DONT OFFER TO PAY FOR THE EXTERMINATION?! You piece of shit. Has all the alcohol and pot ruined your one brain cell that you didn't realize that fleas reproduce at a lightening speed? Are you that much of an idiot to not realize that your cat not only gets me sick with allergies but now brought fleas into MY FUCKING HOUSE and BIT MY FUCKING LEGS which leaves me with SCARS? How would you like it if your superficial one pea brained cell had to have scars? I know your dumb ass cares only about how you look constantly you vain piece of shit. Yeah, thats what I thought.
Third, don't fucking sit here and complain about your lack of income and hassle me to sign a return on the pet deposit WHICH YOU WILL PROBABLY BRING BACK FROM YOUR PARENTS HOME now that you got your stupid pet deposit back when YOU ARE THE IDIOT that quit your job in the middle of a recession. I mean really, what idiot quits their job in this economy? Oh so boo hoo you weren't happy because they weren't promoting you. NEWSFLASH: they werent promoting you because you would make your powerpoint presentations HIGH OFF YOUR ASS. I mean really, how are you going to smoke a fucking bowl before you have to give a presentation and then be pissed that they refuse to promote you. Was it your sense of entitlement that turned them off to you or the fact that you probably left your one brain cell at home whenever you went to work? If so, please tell me why your one brain cell didn't think to WASH & CLEAN the dishes to put in the DRYING RACK which is reserved for CLEAN DISHES!
Last, if you wonder why I totally avoid you, it's because I'm trying to save MY brain cells because I have a fear that your stupidity is contagious. I mean really, did you think it was a good idea to get blackout drunk all the time, bring home boys who ARE NOT YOUR BOYFRIEND, stumble everywhere hitting everyone and everything in your path while drunk, turn on the HEAT when it is 60 degrees outside, and think that taking "intro to German" at the local community college while jobless is going to further your career goals.
A hint: if you have one brain cell, try not to overexert it. Read: stop drinking, smoking and thinking.
Idiot.
First, OBC has a problem with dishes. As in, she likes to stack them high. Furthermore, what is a purpose of a dish rack? To dry dishes? Yes. What type of dishes? Clean ones? Oh my! What a concept! OBC likes to stack the dirty dishes in and along the sink and then transfer the dirty dishes in the drying rack. Really? REALLY?! Who raised you? Where in your ONE BRAIN CELL did you think it was OK to place a DIRTY DISH (multiple ones multiple times since we've moved in) on the drying rack. To dry dirty dishes? Yum, please. I love having to scrape off your weird foods off the fucking dishes that you decided TO DRY DIRTY. Asshole.
Second, your cat is a piece of shit. Well, no, your treatment of how the cat should live in our home is a piece of shit. The cat itself = cute. You = not cute. You = idiot. Not only have I told you time and time again that the cat needs to stay outside because i'm allergic to it, but you seem to think that cats DO NOT SHED. ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?! And then you scream at me to "give you a fucking break" when I ask you to sweep up your cat's dander and how you refuse to "fucking clean after" the cat because how am I "supposed to know how to be responsible for a pet when [I] don't own one." Are you fucking for real? I DONT OWN A PET BECAUSE I CANT TAKE CARE OF ONE BECAUSE YOU HAVE TO BE RESPONSIBLE. You can't just fucking get the pet high in a closet with you because you feel like. You have to feed it, bathe it and take care of it. ALL of which you don't do. Furthermore, I love how I told you in the beginning that I thought your cat had fleas and you told me it was "impossible" because she just had medication put on her. Now, you change your statement and say that "oh, [my boyfriend] told me that fleas can lay eggs and that [oops] I guess she had fleas that laid eggs because I had a lot of bites the other day." And THEN DONT OFFER TO PAY FOR THE EXTERMINATION?! You piece of shit. Has all the alcohol and pot ruined your one brain cell that you didn't realize that fleas reproduce at a lightening speed? Are you that much of an idiot to not realize that your cat not only gets me sick with allergies but now brought fleas into MY FUCKING HOUSE and BIT MY FUCKING LEGS which leaves me with SCARS? How would you like it if your superficial one pea brained cell had to have scars? I know your dumb ass cares only about how you look constantly you vain piece of shit. Yeah, thats what I thought.
Third, don't fucking sit here and complain about your lack of income and hassle me to sign a return on the pet deposit WHICH YOU WILL PROBABLY BRING BACK FROM YOUR PARENTS HOME now that you got your stupid pet deposit back when YOU ARE THE IDIOT that quit your job in the middle of a recession. I mean really, what idiot quits their job in this economy? Oh so boo hoo you weren't happy because they weren't promoting you. NEWSFLASH: they werent promoting you because you would make your powerpoint presentations HIGH OFF YOUR ASS. I mean really, how are you going to smoke a fucking bowl before you have to give a presentation and then be pissed that they refuse to promote you. Was it your sense of entitlement that turned them off to you or the fact that you probably left your one brain cell at home whenever you went to work? If so, please tell me why your one brain cell didn't think to WASH & CLEAN the dishes to put in the DRYING RACK which is reserved for CLEAN DISHES!
Last, if you wonder why I totally avoid you, it's because I'm trying to save MY brain cells because I have a fear that your stupidity is contagious. I mean really, did you think it was a good idea to get blackout drunk all the time, bring home boys who ARE NOT YOUR BOYFRIEND, stumble everywhere hitting everyone and everything in your path while drunk, turn on the HEAT when it is 60 degrees outside, and think that taking "intro to German" at the local community college while jobless is going to further your career goals.
A hint: if you have one brain cell, try not to overexert it. Read: stop drinking, smoking and thinking.
Idiot.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Facebook's 25
1. I hate math and generally refuse to calculate a split dinner bill yet I can tell you exactly how many calories I've ingested on a daily basis. I blame my math hatred on the fact my mother made me do "Kumon" when I was a little girl. In actuality, I'm really good at math but when I was in 7th grade, I faked needing extra attention so I could be in the same class as a boy I had a crush on. Ever since then, I've just told everyone I'm terrible at it.
2. Most of my facebook pictures show me without glasses but I wear them on a regular daily basis. I was born practically blind and am still traumatized by the frog like glasses that I had to wear at the age of 4.... and all the photo documentation that my mother has of that time period in my life. With a horrible bowl haircut.
3. I am truly confused as to which side of the country is my Home. My family lives in California where I was born and raised but my nearest and dearest friends live back East. And you know what they say, home is where the <3 is.
4. I am allergic to peanut butter and shellfish but I will still never pass up a chance to eat shrimp... so long as there's benadryl in the immediate vicinity. I've been told my grandfather used to do the same thing.
5. I have a love/hate relationship with my cell phone. I frequently ignore calls but when I talk to my friends from far away, I'm generally on it for at least an hour. Now i've upgraded to a blackberry and am annoyed that i'm so accessible but refuse to downgrade because I love the facebook application and brick breaker game.
6. I would not be able to survive without Costco and Trader Joe's.
7. I only sleep on the left side of the bed. If I HAVE to sleep on the right, I usually wake up in the middle of the night and move to the couch or floor.
8. I rarely watch big blockbuster or classic movies (read: Mary Poppins, Sound of Music, Batman movies?) yet I can quote every line in Legally Blonde and Mean Girls.
9. My family thinks I'm going to be a great attorney because I'm obnoxious, outspoken and not afraid to articulate the needs of others. In reality, I have a fear of public speaking, specifically in class and in front of my classmates. I tend to start crying when I get called on.
10. I have a baby sister who is 10 years younger than me and laugh whenever she mirrors my brooding, sarcastic style.
11. I am prone to serious bug bites. Today, I have at least 20. All are swollen. Yes, I'm very uncomfortable right now.
12. I am one of 17 Rosario cousins and proud of it. Without them, I would have no family.
13. I am cynical about how I'm the only one of my friends who is not in a serious, committed relationship yet I secretly DVR all wedding shows WeTV and Style network has to offer.
14. I played the piano for 17 years. I've stopped for about 4 now and can still remember every classical piece i've learned.
15. I love cooking and used to cook every meal but now only cook frozen dinners... and frozen breakfasts. (Thank you Jimmy Dean.)
16. I try to go to church every Sunday. When I can't, I go to an early weekday Mass. I pray the Rosary every night and I thank God for my family, friends, good AND bad fortune.
17. The two places I want to visit in my life are the Grand Canyon and Brazil.
18. I constantly talk about moving back to the Bay Area but have not made any plans furthering that goal. In fact, I've only looked to moving back East or Chicago.
19. Procrastination started at an early age for me. The same goes for talking my way out of bad situations. When I was a little girl, I once had a "show and tell" project where I had to bring in a drawing. Being the little procrastinator I was, I did it during preschool class when I excused myself to the bathroom. I scribbled something on a piece of paper with multiple colors knowing it didn't make sense and presented it to the teacher and class as a house with a clothesline with my grandparents teaching me about plants. I hoped the teacher would just nod and pat me on the head saying "that's interesting. Very good." It worked.
20. I am the weirdest Type A person you will ever meet. My room is always messy and disorganized but my planner is color coordinated and my workspace is always, always clean and disinfected.
21. I am my mother's daughter and own a lot of designer bags and shoes. I have trained myself to walk out of a store without dropping a serious wad of cash on either or both that would catch my eye. If I still think about it a week later, I'll go back to purchase the item. Yes, I am my mother's daughter.
22. I have never broken a bone nor have ever required stitches. I am, however, constantly going to the doctor's office and I never really know why.
23. All of my "firsts" have been in Washington, D.C. And no, not all at the same time. And no, get your mind out of the gutter, one of them was my first grilled cheese! But yes, all of my firsts have been in D.C. over a large span of time.
24. My friends' and boyfriends' backgrounds are generally non-Filipino. Yet I was once the president of my undergrad Filipino club and a national director for a non profit national Filipino student organization.
25. I put salt on everything. Literally everything. (Read: strawberries, various other fruits, vegetables, pork rinds etc...) It would be even better if coupled with vinegar.
2. Most of my facebook pictures show me without glasses but I wear them on a regular daily basis. I was born practically blind and am still traumatized by the frog like glasses that I had to wear at the age of 4.... and all the photo documentation that my mother has of that time period in my life. With a horrible bowl haircut.
3. I am truly confused as to which side of the country is my Home. My family lives in California where I was born and raised but my nearest and dearest friends live back East. And you know what they say, home is where the <3 is.
4. I am allergic to peanut butter and shellfish but I will still never pass up a chance to eat shrimp... so long as there's benadryl in the immediate vicinity. I've been told my grandfather used to do the same thing.
5. I have a love/hate relationship with my cell phone. I frequently ignore calls but when I talk to my friends from far away, I'm generally on it for at least an hour. Now i've upgraded to a blackberry and am annoyed that i'm so accessible but refuse to downgrade because I love the facebook application and brick breaker game.
6. I would not be able to survive without Costco and Trader Joe's.
7. I only sleep on the left side of the bed. If I HAVE to sleep on the right, I usually wake up in the middle of the night and move to the couch or floor.
8. I rarely watch big blockbuster or classic movies (read: Mary Poppins, Sound of Music, Batman movies?) yet I can quote every line in Legally Blonde and Mean Girls.
9. My family thinks I'm going to be a great attorney because I'm obnoxious, outspoken and not afraid to articulate the needs of others. In reality, I have a fear of public speaking, specifically in class and in front of my classmates. I tend to start crying when I get called on.
10. I have a baby sister who is 10 years younger than me and laugh whenever she mirrors my brooding, sarcastic style.
11. I am prone to serious bug bites. Today, I have at least 20. All are swollen. Yes, I'm very uncomfortable right now.
12. I am one of 17 Rosario cousins and proud of it. Without them, I would have no family.
13. I am cynical about how I'm the only one of my friends who is not in a serious, committed relationship yet I secretly DVR all wedding shows WeTV and Style network has to offer.
14. I played the piano for 17 years. I've stopped for about 4 now and can still remember every classical piece i've learned.
15. I love cooking and used to cook every meal but now only cook frozen dinners... and frozen breakfasts. (Thank you Jimmy Dean.)
16. I try to go to church every Sunday. When I can't, I go to an early weekday Mass. I pray the Rosary every night and I thank God for my family, friends, good AND bad fortune.
17. The two places I want to visit in my life are the Grand Canyon and Brazil.
18. I constantly talk about moving back to the Bay Area but have not made any plans furthering that goal. In fact, I've only looked to moving back East or Chicago.
19. Procrastination started at an early age for me. The same goes for talking my way out of bad situations. When I was a little girl, I once had a "show and tell" project where I had to bring in a drawing. Being the little procrastinator I was, I did it during preschool class when I excused myself to the bathroom. I scribbled something on a piece of paper with multiple colors knowing it didn't make sense and presented it to the teacher and class as a house with a clothesline with my grandparents teaching me about plants. I hoped the teacher would just nod and pat me on the head saying "that's interesting. Very good." It worked.
20. I am the weirdest Type A person you will ever meet. My room is always messy and disorganized but my planner is color coordinated and my workspace is always, always clean and disinfected.
21. I am my mother's daughter and own a lot of designer bags and shoes. I have trained myself to walk out of a store without dropping a serious wad of cash on either or both that would catch my eye. If I still think about it a week later, I'll go back to purchase the item. Yes, I am my mother's daughter.
22. I have never broken a bone nor have ever required stitches. I am, however, constantly going to the doctor's office and I never really know why.
23. All of my "firsts" have been in Washington, D.C. And no, not all at the same time. And no, get your mind out of the gutter, one of them was my first grilled cheese! But yes, all of my firsts have been in D.C. over a large span of time.
24. My friends' and boyfriends' backgrounds are generally non-Filipino. Yet I was once the president of my undergrad Filipino club and a national director for a non profit national Filipino student organization.
25. I put salt on everything. Literally everything. (Read: strawberries, various other fruits, vegetables, pork rinds etc...) It would be even better if coupled with vinegar.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
How I feel about California right about now.
Sadly, I feel this way about the people who surround me (in law school) and even my family (up north.) The State itself is great. Great weather, great atmosphere, where I want to practice. Maybe I should just be a hermit. Or move back to DC. Then I wouldn't have to worry about people (READ: psychotic competitive law students and psychotic competitive family) who don't know how to fucking act their age.
Yes, mother, I mean you.
Monday, January 12, 2009
Precious Moments with Mom (revisited)
After a 6 hour drive from soCal to the Bay Area, my family and I went to dinner. When we got home, my father retired to bed and my sisters were on the family computers playing lord knows what. In the kitchen, my mother and I were catching up, gossiping and filling in the blanks. In essence, my mother is really like a frenemy. We "hang" like friends but then a conversation would take a turn like this:
mom: I can't believe those facebook pictures of [insert old classmates from grade school]. How did those girls get so ugly?
me: I have no idea
mom: Why do you think that happens?
me: well its like the ugly duckling story and plus those girls peaked in junior high. I mean I was never as pretty as them and they made every effort to remind me about that every day. Man, I was an ugly kid.
mom: Oh I know. My sisters keep asking, "What happened to [my name]? She got so pretty!" I keep telling them that they're crazy. They just haven't seen you in a long time. I don't know what they're talking about.
me: You know, I always love coming home to you.
mom: I can't believe those facebook pictures of [insert old classmates from grade school]. How did those girls get so ugly?
me: I have no idea
mom: Why do you think that happens?
me: well its like the ugly duckling story and plus those girls peaked in junior high. I mean I was never as pretty as them and they made every effort to remind me about that every day. Man, I was an ugly kid.
mom: Oh I know. My sisters keep asking, "What happened to [my name]? She got so pretty!" I keep telling them that they're crazy. They just haven't seen you in a long time. I don't know what they're talking about.
me: You know, I always love coming home to you.
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Why you never had a chance.
To give a majority of people not in school credit, generally when you say you're in finals mode it means the degree of stress rises. Furthermore, it means that the student in finals mode wants to procrastinate but doesn't have time to deal with stupid questions. Among the favorites are: Why are you so stressed out? How much longer do you have?
But a new conversation I had recently sparks the topic of today's post:
Boy: Hey hey
Me: hey
Boy: Hows life?
Me: stressful
Boy: why so
Me: finals start on monday
Boy: law school?
Ok. For background purposes, I would like everyone to know that I met this boy through my bff in SF. . . when we were out celebrating my return to CA for law school. For some reason, we sporadically kept in touch through AIM. If you MET me while we were celebrating my decision to go to law school and we KEEP IN TOUCH on a somewhat regular basis, WHY, WHY would you ask if my FINALS were for Law School? I mean I know this guy could potentially talk to a million girls, but come on.
Boy: Hows the love life?
me: ?
Boy: ?
me: i dont understand the question
Boy: Hows your love life?
Now, again, let's discuss the importance behind stupid questions. I know, perhaps I shouldn't be irresponsibly on AIM - especially during finals. But let's be honest. I've spent all semester hiding in books and avoiding people like him. Really? Love life? Relevance? What? Who ARE you!? a.) of all, why do you care? b.) of all, if you're going to tell me that yours is awesome (and he did) what is the purpose of even asking me when you overtly hit on me every time we had previously talked? and c.) of all, REALLY? I'm in mother fucking law school. What the fuck do you think I do here? Look for husbands? I sit in class and not read over 5,000 pages of text to learn the law in order to bat my eyes and lower my shirt at some douchebag in my class? No thank you.
But a new conversation I had recently sparks the topic of today's post:
Boy: Hey hey
Me: hey
Boy: Hows life?
Me: stressful
Boy: why so
Me: finals start on monday
Boy: law school?
Ok. For background purposes, I would like everyone to know that I met this boy through my bff in SF. . . when we were out celebrating my return to CA for law school. For some reason, we sporadically kept in touch through AIM. If you MET me while we were celebrating my decision to go to law school and we KEEP IN TOUCH on a somewhat regular basis, WHY, WHY would you ask if my FINALS were for Law School? I mean I know this guy could potentially talk to a million girls, but come on.
Boy: Hows the love life?
me: ?
Boy: ?
me: i dont understand the question
Boy: Hows your love life?
Now, again, let's discuss the importance behind stupid questions. I know, perhaps I shouldn't be irresponsibly on AIM - especially during finals. But let's be honest. I've spent all semester hiding in books and avoiding people like him. Really? Love life? Relevance? What? Who ARE you!? a.) of all, why do you care? b.) of all, if you're going to tell me that yours is awesome (and he did) what is the purpose of even asking me when you overtly hit on me every time we had previously talked? and c.) of all, REALLY? I'm in mother fucking law school. What the fuck do you think I do here? Look for husbands? I sit in class and not read over 5,000 pages of text to learn the law in order to bat my eyes and lower my shirt at some douchebag in my class? No thank you.
Monday, November 24, 2008
Hi my name is... and I have a Facebook addiction.
It has been noted in my family that my little sisters and I have fixation problems. In some cases, fixation can be a good thing. For example, my baby sister has a fixation with beating our other sister and myself academically so she works harder. Please note that fixation in this context is interchangeable with competition. In other cases, it can be a weird thing. For example, when I was 13, I began to have a torrid and obssessive love for Hanson. (More on that at another time). I had binders and websites made in homage to my favorite bands. If you knew me back then, there was not a single wall space uncovered thanks to Hanson posters. I slept, ate, dreamt Hanson.
But now, as a brand new 25 year old, I find myself trying to find ways to restrict a horrible obsession as I enter the two weeks before finals period: Facebook. Now for the past year and a half, I've been known to have increased facebook activity, such as, but not limited to, wall posting, birthday wishing, and picture commenting. Generally, each post left has the phrase "miss you!" I tend to think that the sentiment is returned in some way, shape or form. But what happens when the obsession has you stumbling across a wall post that is passive aggressively (or even overtly) directed at you? Should you shrink back in shame that you, a facebook addict, have finetuned your fb stalking abilities to come across the mean sentiment in a public forum? Or should you feign indignance at the thought of a mean spirited "friend" by de-friending them; or even better, putting them on limited profile status so you can still see their shit talking but they can't see anything on your profile?
I mean really? What is it about me that is so easy to make jabs at? I mean come on, its not like I wouldn't see it. So what if over a year ago I thought that it was funny to title an email after a person's insane personality or to wish someone happy birthday from California or put up a status message about how I'm currently feeling (e.g. "What now, Angelica?" See post dated 11/11/2008). Is it really necessary to be a jackass about it?
Oh, and I decided to restrict them (some a long time ago) from seeing a lot of my profile. Do they care? No, but it's better to give them a lot less material to talk about when they want to be assholes. I swear, these people.
Welcome to Finals.
But now, as a brand new 25 year old, I find myself trying to find ways to restrict a horrible obsession as I enter the two weeks before finals period: Facebook. Now for the past year and a half, I've been known to have increased facebook activity, such as, but not limited to, wall posting, birthday wishing, and picture commenting. Generally, each post left has the phrase "miss you!" I tend to think that the sentiment is returned in some way, shape or form. But what happens when the obsession has you stumbling across a wall post that is passive aggressively (or even overtly) directed at you? Should you shrink back in shame that you, a facebook addict, have finetuned your fb stalking abilities to come across the mean sentiment in a public forum? Or should you feign indignance at the thought of a mean spirited "friend" by de-friending them; or even better, putting them on limited profile status so you can still see their shit talking but they can't see anything on your profile?
I mean really? What is it about me that is so easy to make jabs at? I mean come on, its not like I wouldn't see it. So what if over a year ago I thought that it was funny to title an email after a person's insane personality or to wish someone happy birthday from California or put up a status message about how I'm currently feeling (e.g. "What now, Angelica?" See post dated 11/11/2008). Is it really necessary to be a jackass about it?
Oh, and I decided to restrict them (some a long time ago) from seeing a lot of my profile. Do they care? No, but it's better to give them a lot less material to talk about when they want to be assholes. I swear, these people.
Welcome to Finals.
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Precious Moments with Mom
Mom: I don't know what's wrong with [my coworker's daughter]. She's an attorney, she's smart, funny and attractive. I just don't understand why she doesn't have a boyfriend.
me: Thanks mom. So I'm single because i'm none of the above?
Mom: That's because you're picky.
Apparently, rejection of the Jizzmaster warrants a "picky" label.
p.s. Between me and my friend L. Miller the word "picky" was code for "gay."
me: Thanks mom. So I'm single because i'm none of the above?
Mom: That's because you're picky.
Apparently, rejection of the Jizzmaster warrants a "picky" label.
p.s. Between me and my friend L. Miller the word "picky" was code for "gay."
Friday, August 15, 2008
I'd rather be single.
Since I officially became single (many, many months ago), my ever so helpful friends and closest confidantes gingerly expressed to me that perhaps I should give men a chance. This by no means indicated that I am a lesbian, it just meant that maybe, generally, I'm a little hostile when it comes to meeting guys. The following are the top three reasons (meaning I had to search within all my heinous incidents) why, why, I should always be a bitch, bear in mind, these incidents happened within the past 3 months:
Boy behind door number 3:
Recently I went on a date with a guy I met through a co-worker. I found him to be a little socially awkward and not really amusing at times, but, my roommates met him and said to give him a chance. After all, I am the only single person in my group of friends (officially). Here's how it panned out:
me: So do you have any roommates?
him: no, I own my own place. I live alone.
me: Oh that's pretty sweet.
*****
him: so I hope we can go out again
me: maybe next time i'll come to [insert his nearby orange county city]
him: *awkward pause* well, I don't know if you can do that
me: *puzzled* why?
him: because my ex girlfriend still lives with me (side note: this is ex girlfriend of 10 years).
Boy behind door number 2:
I used to frequent a comedy club called iO West in Hollywood. My partner in crime L. Miller and I love to watch our favorite team KDD perform there. One night, we went there to grab drinks and hang out. L. Miller, with the foresight to know when an annoying and possibly sketchy guy was about to advance, started talking to the bartender and sat down at the bar. In fall swoop, the guy she expertly avoided started talking to me. Here's how that conversation panned out:
him: so what do you do?
me: i'm a student
him: oh what are you studying?
me: law
him: oh like pre-law?
me: no, like THE law
him: *nudge* so will you be my attorney some day? *wink*
me: oh, you're really not my type of client
him: what would that be?
me: children.
him: *pause, gives me the "ick" look* wow, so you're not going to be rich at all are you?
me: *offended* um, no.
::awkward pause::
me: so what do you do?
him: oh, i'm an actor.
Last but definitely not least, boy behind door number 1:
Again, out with friends, this time in Santa Monica, CA, I met my all time favorite guy at a bar. (Sarcasm added.) I was sitting in a booth with two girls, one guy when this little scrawny white boy slid in the booth sitting himself right next to me:
him: hey there
me: um, hi
him: my name is Chris (as an FYI, I felt that if I censored the following information my readers would not get the full effect of the reasoning behind my initial irritation.)
me: (already irritated) ugh. i hate that name. where are you from?
him: Pittsburgh (of course, OF course)
me: ugh, i hate that city. in fact, i prefer not to talk to guys named Chris from Pittsburgh.
(for those readers who do not know, my ex boyfriend's name is Chris, from Pittsburgh)
him: well, my friends like to call me the jizzmaster.
me: excuse me? did you give yourself that name or did someone else...
::shoots look to girl across the way AND the guy sitting next to me who stare in disbelief::
him: no, my buddies (points over to the bar) call me the jizzmaster.
me: i dont even want to know. (he makes small talk to the other people at our table and then leaves to get more drunk)
***** (later on, he returns to the scene of the crime) *****
him: so i live three blocks away
me: so?
him: you wanna come over and watch a movie? no funny business i swear
me: you must be fucking joking
him: oh come on, i have catch phrase
me: sorry, i only put out for yahtzee.
Boy behind door number 3:
Recently I went on a date with a guy I met through a co-worker. I found him to be a little socially awkward and not really amusing at times, but, my roommates met him and said to give him a chance. After all, I am the only single person in my group of friends (officially). Here's how it panned out:
me: So do you have any roommates?
him: no, I own my own place. I live alone.
me: Oh that's pretty sweet.
*****
him: so I hope we can go out again
me: maybe next time i'll come to [insert his nearby orange county city]
him: *awkward pause* well, I don't know if you can do that
me: *puzzled* why?
him: because my ex girlfriend still lives with me (side note: this is ex girlfriend of 10 years).
Boy behind door number 2:
I used to frequent a comedy club called iO West in Hollywood. My partner in crime L. Miller and I love to watch our favorite team KDD perform there. One night, we went there to grab drinks and hang out. L. Miller, with the foresight to know when an annoying and possibly sketchy guy was about to advance, started talking to the bartender and sat down at the bar. In fall swoop, the guy she expertly avoided started talking to me. Here's how that conversation panned out:
him: so what do you do?
me: i'm a student
him: oh what are you studying?
me: law
him: oh like pre-law?
me: no, like THE law
him: *nudge* so will you be my attorney some day? *wink*
me: oh, you're really not my type of client
him: what would that be?
me: children.
him: *pause, gives me the "ick" look* wow, so you're not going to be rich at all are you?
me: *offended* um, no.
::awkward pause::
me: so what do you do?
him: oh, i'm an actor.
Last but definitely not least, boy behind door number 1:
Again, out with friends, this time in Santa Monica, CA, I met my all time favorite guy at a bar. (Sarcasm added.) I was sitting in a booth with two girls, one guy when this little scrawny white boy slid in the booth sitting himself right next to me:
him: hey there
me: um, hi
him: my name is Chris (as an FYI, I felt that if I censored the following information my readers would not get the full effect of the reasoning behind my initial irritation.)
me: (already irritated) ugh. i hate that name. where are you from?
him: Pittsburgh (of course, OF course)
me: ugh, i hate that city. in fact, i prefer not to talk to guys named Chris from Pittsburgh.
(for those readers who do not know, my ex boyfriend's name is Chris, from Pittsburgh)
him: well, my friends like to call me the jizzmaster.
me: excuse me? did you give yourself that name or did someone else...
::shoots look to girl across the way AND the guy sitting next to me who stare in disbelief::
him: no, my buddies (points over to the bar) call me the jizzmaster.
me: i dont even want to know. (he makes small talk to the other people at our table and then leaves to get more drunk)
***** (later on, he returns to the scene of the crime) *****
him: so i live three blocks away
me: so?
him: you wanna come over and watch a movie? no funny business i swear
me: you must be fucking joking
him: oh come on, i have catch phrase
me: sorry, i only put out for yahtzee.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Filed Under: Next Generation of Rivalry.
Today, a fellow law student (who I actually don't know) and his son walked by in the hall. Both are wearing San Diego Charger paraphanalia.
Me: Aww, what a cute little boy! But he's wearing the wrong t-shirt!
Fellow law student: no, he's not!
Little boy (looking indignant): No, I not!
Fellow law student: come on [insert little boy's name] - don't listen to her, she must be an Oakland Raider fan.
Little boy (scurries after father): ewwww!!!!
*Well, that soured fast.
Me: Aww, what a cute little boy! But he's wearing the wrong t-shirt!
Fellow law student: no, he's not!
Little boy (looking indignant): No, I not!
Fellow law student: come on [insert little boy's name] - don't listen to her, she must be an Oakland Raider fan.
Little boy (scurries after father): ewwww!!!!
*Well, that soured fast.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
What are you?
Recently I donated blood to the American Red Cross.
Intake person: Date of birth?
me: 11/21/83
Intake person: Race?
me: Um, what do you have there?
Intake person: Well, we have black, hispanic, white. What are you? Mixed?
me: No, Filipino.
Intake person: Oh. ::clicks mouse:: Other.
* I can't make this shit up. Seriously.
Intake person: Date of birth?
me: 11/21/83
Intake person: Race?
me: Um, what do you have there?
Intake person: Well, we have black, hispanic, white. What are you? Mixed?
me: No, Filipino.
Intake person: Oh. ::clicks mouse:: Other.
* I can't make this shit up. Seriously.
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
Back, Back, Back, Back it up.
Short and sweet today. Conversation with my father.
me: I threw out my back this weekend. And I don't have medical insurance. And i'm laying in the middle of the hall at school because it hurts to be alive.
Dad: Hmm. Right. You don't have medical insurance. have you tried Vicks?
me: Of course I tried Vicks. Are I not your daughter and Filipino? I've tried everything. I'm in a lot of pain.
Dad: Hm. Sucks. I don't know what to tell you. If you were home I'd just give you medicine and we could take care of you here. But you're not home. And it's not like you have anyone to take care of you. Family, boyfriend...yeah, if you had a boyfriend he could help you out and stuff like carry your books and rub Vicks on your back.
me: Thanks. Do you have a prescription for that?
me: I threw out my back this weekend. And I don't have medical insurance. And i'm laying in the middle of the hall at school because it hurts to be alive.
Dad: Hmm. Right. You don't have medical insurance. have you tried Vicks?
me: Of course I tried Vicks. Are I not your daughter and Filipino? I've tried everything. I'm in a lot of pain.
Dad: Hm. Sucks. I don't know what to tell you. If you were home I'd just give you medicine and we could take care of you here. But you're not home. And it's not like you have anyone to take care of you. Family, boyfriend...yeah, if you had a boyfriend he could help you out and stuff like carry your books and rub Vicks on your back.
me: Thanks. Do you have a prescription for that?
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
I am a Person You May Know
Does anyone remember the "good ole days" of facebook? No posting on SuperWall's, throwing sheep, attacking ninjas and, of course, taking a "how hot are you" quiz? No news feeds, redundant email notifications and reminders of "causes" and [insert favorite sports team] fan applications? (Mind you, I have two of those on my page. I am just as guilty.)
People You May Know is exactly how it sounds. Facebook magically reconciles all your friends and their friends and their baby mama's friends to see if you all have friends in common thus having not "friended" someone who you may actually be real life friends with. Now really, is this application necessary? I was at a club last night and instead of asking for my number, some guy asked IF I WAS ON FACEBOOK. Really? Oh but I digress. So lo and behold, this new application has made me laugh. At the beginning of the year, I had a crap load of "facebook friends." While I know it would appear "rude" I decided to cleanse my facebook of extraneous friends. Harsh, but true. Will I really ever need to talk to the girl in some random frosh year finite math class? How about that person who facebooked me because he or she happened to live on my floor sophomore year? Hell, I dont even remember these people's names. Why do I want to know what their favorite movies, interests, and quotes are?
Regardless, one day, "People You May Know" was proudly displayed on my homepage highlighted its usual top three picks of who I may know. This link should really be called "Click here if you want to know how many friends you have in common with people you never wanted to friend in the first place." Or, even better, "Click here if you want to know how your exboyfriend's new girlfriend is BFF with YOUR friends." On this particular day, it really was another sign that I should remove my exboyfriend from my facebook friends. (Ridiculous, I know.) Apparently his new girlfriend is a "Person I May Know". Well no shit shirlock.
a.) We went to the same fucking school
b.) We were both in the greek system
c.) She's actually pretty damn smart to start ingratiating herself in his life by facebooking his friends. I did the same thing. Hence why we have so many goddamn friends in common.
So yes, facebook, thank you for pointing out the glaring obvious fact that this bitch ass heifer is a person I may know. In fact, next time I go to DC, should I run into her, I would be like "yes, I know you, we have 3874 friends in common. Why aren't we friends? Oh right because you're fucking my exboyfriend. In my bed."
The original intent of the creation of facebook (as i've read) is to create an internet networking page for students. As it grew, the page spilled into the workplace and then to geographically acceptable networks. (i.e., Washington, DC (a city) is a network, but Orange County (*duh, NOT a city) is also a network. I point this out because you don't see "Mission Viejo" being a network even though that's a city). Anyway, the reasons behind why facebook was created are not to be short changed. Good does come from this site. But I fail to understand why, WHY the applications on the site must torture me further by battering me incessantly with useless updates and applications that try to get me down when i'm feeling especially bitchy and bitter. (Shocker? I think not.)
My latest and greatest gripe with facebook is their new feature called "People You May Know."People You May Know is exactly how it sounds. Facebook magically reconciles all your friends and their friends and their baby mama's friends to see if you all have friends in common thus having not "friended" someone who you may actually be real life friends with. Now really, is this application necessary? I was at a club last night and instead of asking for my number, some guy asked IF I WAS ON FACEBOOK. Really? Oh but I digress. So lo and behold, this new application has made me laugh. At the beginning of the year, I had a crap load of "facebook friends." While I know it would appear "rude" I decided to cleanse my facebook of extraneous friends. Harsh, but true. Will I really ever need to talk to the girl in some random frosh year finite math class? How about that person who facebooked me because he or she happened to live on my floor sophomore year? Hell, I dont even remember these people's names. Why do I want to know what their favorite movies, interests, and quotes are?
Regardless, one day, "People You May Know" was proudly displayed on my homepage highlighted its usual top three picks of who I may know. This link should really be called "Click here if you want to know how many friends you have in common with people you never wanted to friend in the first place." Or, even better, "Click here if you want to know how your exboyfriend's new girlfriend is BFF with YOUR friends." On this particular day, it really was another sign that I should remove my exboyfriend from my facebook friends. (Ridiculous, I know.) Apparently his new girlfriend is a "Person I May Know". Well no shit shirlock.
a.) We went to the same fucking school
b.) We were both in the greek system
c.) She's actually pretty damn smart to start ingratiating herself in his life by facebooking his friends. I did the same thing. Hence why we have so many goddamn friends in common.
So yes, facebook, thank you for pointing out the glaring obvious fact that this bitch ass heifer is a person I may know. In fact, next time I go to DC, should I run into her, I would be like "yes, I know you, we have 3874 friends in common. Why aren't we friends? Oh right because you're fucking my exboyfriend. In my bed."
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
I may be fat, but you're still ugly and I can always diet.
Miss R in Section B provided me with the topic for my blog today by telling me that other people’s bullsh*t shouldn’t affect me. Take the attitude of the blog title to heart. I may be fat, but you’re still ugly and I can always diet. Today I had a practice oral argument where I completely bombed in front of my class. I say practice because next week, I'll be in front of judges and my professor will be grading me. Suffice to say, I won't do any worse than I did today. Now, bear in mind, I probably wouldn't be feeling as bad if it weren't for GP. GP, short for God's Property, is a group of 4 girls in my class who are blonde, super Christian (think: Mandy Moore in SAVED), and mean, mean, mean. I would classify them as the more known nickname of "mean girls" but GP is so much more fitting. They go around school being horrifically mean to their future colleagues but then talk about how they believe in Jesus and go to church all the time and that they have "love in their hearts for those who are beneath them" (true story).
Unfortunately for me, they've been the bane of my existence since school started. Even more unfortunate? They're in my fellowship program, thus subjecting me to further torture with them over my summer break. Why are they so horrible, you ask. Well notwithstanding the fact that they tell everyone that they are right now ranking at the top of our class (mind you, our grades are soft grades from last semester - rankings change like Miss J on Top Model changes hair styles), they tend to make you feel like you're this small. For those who remember my past blog and affectionately remember BFD, its like her times 4 of them and they're blonde and Jesus freaks. (Please note: I have nothing against Christians. If you know me well, you know that I'm very Catholic and also open minded about different religions.) But I digress.
Today, as I was laying out my oral argument in front of the class, the professor interrupted me with a question that I wasn’t fully prepared for. As I searched my argument notes for the answer, I hear a little snickering and giggling to my right. I look (even though I know) and lo and behold GP is laughing at me for pausing too long. Laughing, tittering, snickering, whispering to each other and pointing. Thrown off, I look back to my notes and try to collect my thoughts. The pause starts to become unbearable. All I can hear is them. My face starts to get hot and literally, I felt the tears springing to my eyes. (Such a literary term that I feel is so graphic in words and feeling.) The professor sees that I’m shaken and gently (but almost condescendingly) says, "Perhaps you should go back to your first point." I was horrified and humiliated.
My friends outside of law school are just shocked and confused. Who raised these people? Sadly enough, my friends inside of law school thought that it was pretty standard for them. After stewing for over 24 hours in anger over it brought me back to what Miss R said to me almost immediately after. No matter what, I can always change things about myself I don’t like but they will always have a hideous soul. Now, yes, it seems drastic of a word choice for people who are just like little high schoolers with silver spoons in their mouths. Funny enough, they were all born and raised in the OC. Either way, these are the girls who will hide library books, try to snoop through your notes, tell you that they think you’re a slut to your face (true story) and remind you daily that they are at the top of our class with their grades. What I want to know is, what does this tell you about where i'm living for the next three years?
On a petty note, (hey, if you don't like it, you don't have to read it) in Facebook news my lovely ex-boyfriend apparently is now calling his new girlfriend of less than 2 months "bebe" and tells her on Facebook that he "loves her." I personally would love to call him and thank him for helping me lose 5 pounds today by puking simultaneously while I read that. Remember, I can always diet. (Which is pretty funny because I think his new girlfiend did reference me as fat. Fitting.)
Unfortunately for me, they've been the bane of my existence since school started. Even more unfortunate? They're in my fellowship program, thus subjecting me to further torture with them over my summer break. Why are they so horrible, you ask. Well notwithstanding the fact that they tell everyone that they are right now ranking at the top of our class (mind you, our grades are soft grades from last semester - rankings change like Miss J on Top Model changes hair styles), they tend to make you feel like you're this small. For those who remember my past blog and affectionately remember BFD, its like her times 4 of them and they're blonde and Jesus freaks. (Please note: I have nothing against Christians. If you know me well, you know that I'm very Catholic and also open minded about different religions.) But I digress.
Today, as I was laying out my oral argument in front of the class, the professor interrupted me with a question that I wasn’t fully prepared for. As I searched my argument notes for the answer, I hear a little snickering and giggling to my right. I look (even though I know) and lo and behold GP is laughing at me for pausing too long. Laughing, tittering, snickering, whispering to each other and pointing. Thrown off, I look back to my notes and try to collect my thoughts. The pause starts to become unbearable. All I can hear is them. My face starts to get hot and literally, I felt the tears springing to my eyes. (Such a literary term that I feel is so graphic in words and feeling.) The professor sees that I’m shaken and gently (but almost condescendingly) says, "Perhaps you should go back to your first point." I was horrified and humiliated.
My friends outside of law school are just shocked and confused. Who raised these people? Sadly enough, my friends inside of law school thought that it was pretty standard for them. After stewing for over 24 hours in anger over it brought me back to what Miss R said to me almost immediately after. No matter what, I can always change things about myself I don’t like but they will always have a hideous soul. Now, yes, it seems drastic of a word choice for people who are just like little high schoolers with silver spoons in their mouths. Funny enough, they were all born and raised in the OC. Either way, these are the girls who will hide library books, try to snoop through your notes, tell you that they think you’re a slut to your face (true story) and remind you daily that they are at the top of our class with their grades. What I want to know is, what does this tell you about where i'm living for the next three years?
On a petty note, (hey, if you don't like it, you don't have to read it) in Facebook news my lovely ex-boyfriend apparently is now calling his new girlfriend of less than 2 months "bebe" and tells her on Facebook that he "loves her." I personally would love to call him and thank him for helping me lose 5 pounds today by puking simultaneously while I read that. Remember, I can always diet. (Which is pretty funny because I think his new girlfiend did reference me as fat. Fitting.)
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Spring Break Part Deux: A Visit From Reality
Thankfully, the second half of my spring break was MUCH MUCH better than the first. No drama or stupidity, just a fantastic way to take a break from school. I highly recommend visits to me. The weather is great and I'll be so happy to see you, you wouldn't know what to do with yourself. S came to visit me and while I can't hand you salacious gossip, I can guarantee that this was the best time I've had since I've moved to the OC.
Day 1: LAX. Ok, so not so much exciting but we were both tired. We did get to visit her friend L (I'm getting lazy with the nicknames) and proceeded to grab lunch and beers. On the bumper to bumper traffic drive back to the OC, we entertained ourselves by staring at the car in front of us that had an ad for "grout cleaning and lippage removal." Hot.
Day 2: Much of the day is hazy but we ended up going to a really cool improv show in LA. And of course fell in love with one of the improv groups. Might have found my newest husband(s). Downside? Getting a parking ticket when I clearly did not park anywhere near a red line or specified sign.
Day 3: Watched the alma mater be in the NCAA tourney for the first time! Good game, bad result. At least there was a lot of heart poured into it! And of course, there's always next year. In the 80 degree weather, we laid around the pool and then went drinking that night where S got hit on by a sketchy man who works in the meat department at Ralphs. Hey, at least we can get a discount on our chicken! Gotta love Patrick's Pub.
Day 4: SAN DIEGO! a photo montage will describe our scavenger hunt. Hardest things to find: Asian tourists (i know, right?! crazy!). But thankfully my friend down in SD took us to Old Town where we would clearly find Asian tourists there. Unfortunately, I cannot mimic her accent but the words (imagined in an accent form) were "ooooooh authentic" ::click, click::.
Day 5: Easter! Found out Chipotle was closed on Easter and that made us sad. Took Easter pictures (no, not at Sears. I know you're disappointed.) and then went to lunch. Proceeded to lay out again. Life still good.
Day 6: I had to unfortunately return back to reality while S had to lay by the pool. However, being the badass that I am, I cut Property and came and laid out with her. It's ok, I was already called on and I got to witness S getting a badass burn, er, tan.
Today is the day I have to bring S back to the airport. Boo. Sadly enough, even though we had fun, it was as if it was good times yet again had arrived into my life. By good times, I mean: reality came back. Gone were the worries of what I had to wear on a day to day basis, what type of makeup I was wearing and what Ryan Seacrest talked about on the radio that morning. Instead, the second part of my spring break was chill and filled with non-vapid conversation. I'm horribly sad that I have to retreat back to the ways of law school and the pettiness that it encompasses. I suppose I'll have my books to keep me company until the end of the year (or end of three years). Until then, I'll keep reminding myself that there is a real world out there and good things come to those who wait.
Day 1: LAX. Ok, so not so much exciting but we were both tired. We did get to visit her friend L (I'm getting lazy with the nicknames) and proceeded to grab lunch and beers. On the bumper to bumper traffic drive back to the OC, we entertained ourselves by staring at the car in front of us that had an ad for "grout cleaning and lippage removal." Hot.
Day 2: Much of the day is hazy but we ended up going to a really cool improv show in LA. And of course fell in love with one of the improv groups. Might have found my newest husband(s). Downside? Getting a parking ticket when I clearly did not park anywhere near a red line or specified sign.
Day 3: Watched the alma mater be in the NCAA tourney for the first time! Good game, bad result. At least there was a lot of heart poured into it! And of course, there's always next year. In the 80 degree weather, we laid around the pool and then went drinking that night where S got hit on by a sketchy man who works in the meat department at Ralphs. Hey, at least we can get a discount on our chicken! Gotta love Patrick's Pub.
Day 4: SAN DIEGO! a photo montage will describe our scavenger hunt. Hardest things to find: Asian tourists (i know, right?! crazy!). But thankfully my friend down in SD took us to Old Town where we would clearly find Asian tourists there. Unfortunately, I cannot mimic her accent but the words (imagined in an accent form) were "ooooooh authentic" ::click, click::.
Day 5: Easter! Found out Chipotle was closed on Easter and that made us sad. Took Easter pictures (no, not at Sears. I know you're disappointed.) and then went to lunch. Proceeded to lay out again. Life still good.
Day 6: I had to unfortunately return back to reality while S had to lay by the pool. However, being the badass that I am, I cut Property and came and laid out with her. It's ok, I was already called on and I got to witness S getting a badass burn, er, tan.
Today is the day I have to bring S back to the airport. Boo. Sadly enough, even though we had fun, it was as if it was good times yet again had arrived into my life. By good times, I mean: reality came back. Gone were the worries of what I had to wear on a day to day basis, what type of makeup I was wearing and what Ryan Seacrest talked about on the radio that morning. Instead, the second part of my spring break was chill and filled with non-vapid conversation. I'm horribly sad that I have to retreat back to the ways of law school and the pettiness that it encompasses. I suppose I'll have my books to keep me company until the end of the year (or end of three years). Until then, I'll keep reminding myself that there is a real world out there and good things come to those who wait.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Spring Break Part I: Tangentally Vegas
Being the expert procrastinator that I am, I've decided that instead of cleaning my apartment for the arrival of one of closest friends back East, I'm going to finally write an entry after a month.
It has been a few years since I've been on a "real" spring break and its quite interesting how grad students easily forget that the undergraduate life is definite the ghost of christmas past. My classmates decided to go to Vegas for a few days in the beginning of Spring Break. Now, I had heard of this plan from the Original Mastermind behind the idea and immediately rejected it for practical reasons. 1.) Not really my section going (but the counterargument there was that I wasn't even friends with my section, furthermore, I had more friends in the "fun" section that was going), 2.) Really shouldn't be spending the money I don't have, and 3.) I REALLY should be studying. After some cajoling from a couple of members from the group, I decided that I really needed a vacation and it would be fun.
Boy was I wrong.
Before we left for Vegas, there was already drama. And, yes, it was the petty, asinine, waste of time drama that to the intelligent mind should be shrugged off and long forgotten. What? What's that you ask? People in law school are intelligent? WRONG! In fact, I'm starting to think that all the IDIOTS go to law school to hide behind fake intelligence! But that, my dears, is a whole 'nother oprah story.
Anyway, in its simplest terms, the drama had to do with people not liking each other and trying to make me choose whose room I would be staying with. Now, I have drama of my own (of course, of COURSE of my own making) and didn't need to be inundated with such mundane issues but nonetheless there I was. Trying to be diplomatic and getting my ass handed to me. Which brings me to reason number 283 why I hate the people at my law school (thus associating it with Orange County, generally).
It appears that (with exception of exactly 2 people) everyone i've met likes to say that he or she is a "chill, drama free" person. However, the statement alone inherently creates drama because said person will go out of his or her way to avoid any confrontation thus provoking anyone who is upset about any situation associated with this person. Now like i've said, everyone likes to pretend they don't want drama but the exact same people (myself included) are knee deep in it. Why? Because its interesting? Because it takes us away from the pain of law school reading? Believe me, I would gladly take reading over dealing with you people. No, it is because I believe, wholly and truly that Orange County is a black hole for the vapid. Seriously. I have plenty of friends in their first year who are just not experiencing the exact pitfalls of [insert your lawschool name] High School.
The reason why I generalize and blame it on the location is because most of the drama is centered around people FROM the OC. Born, raised, kicking and screaming in Orange County. Not all, but most. The ones who are not are put in a different category: insecure and just too young. They justify every wrong and immoral thing they do to make themselves feel better. A great example is how this one guy (J) blatantly left his boy, N (who was the person that originally planning the trip) because J was able to get in a club with a bunch of hot girls. When asked, J said "I told [N] that his name was at the door... Oh, they said they didn't have it? I gave him the number of [insert another random club that no one was at]. Whatever. Not my problem." And, so it goes in Vegas for a continuous 3 nights. People being selfish and not caring what happened to the general group, so long as they were getting free drinks and living the lifestyle that they are obviously so not accustomed to. Sadly enough, these are the type of people i'm surrounded by. People who participate in instant gratification through any means. To hell with you if you get in my way, they say. I suppose its to be expected. All the signs have been there all year, I just chose not to see it.
This is not to say I didn't have fun in Vegas, because I definitely did. But my idealistic ways have melted. Even though I mocked half my classmates for just overall being stupid, I actually believed that I was surrounded by good people. Events in the past couple of weeks leaves me to believe otherwise and for that I think you, the readers, should be worried about what type of attorneys will be entering society two and a half years from now. Because these are not, I repeat, not, good people.
It has been a few years since I've been on a "real" spring break and its quite interesting how grad students easily forget that the undergraduate life is definite the ghost of christmas past. My classmates decided to go to Vegas for a few days in the beginning of Spring Break. Now, I had heard of this plan from the Original Mastermind behind the idea and immediately rejected it for practical reasons. 1.) Not really my section going (but the counterargument there was that I wasn't even friends with my section, furthermore, I had more friends in the "fun" section that was going), 2.) Really shouldn't be spending the money I don't have, and 3.) I REALLY should be studying. After some cajoling from a couple of members from the group, I decided that I really needed a vacation and it would be fun.
Boy was I wrong.
Before we left for Vegas, there was already drama. And, yes, it was the petty, asinine, waste of time drama that to the intelligent mind should be shrugged off and long forgotten. What? What's that you ask? People in law school are intelligent? WRONG! In fact, I'm starting to think that all the IDIOTS go to law school to hide behind fake intelligence! But that, my dears, is a whole 'nother oprah story.
Anyway, in its simplest terms, the drama had to do with people not liking each other and trying to make me choose whose room I would be staying with. Now, I have drama of my own (of course, of COURSE of my own making) and didn't need to be inundated with such mundane issues but nonetheless there I was. Trying to be diplomatic and getting my ass handed to me. Which brings me to reason number 283 why I hate the people at my law school (thus associating it with Orange County, generally).
It appears that (with exception of exactly 2 people) everyone i've met likes to say that he or she is a "chill, drama free" person. However, the statement alone inherently creates drama because said person will go out of his or her way to avoid any confrontation thus provoking anyone who is upset about any situation associated with this person. Now like i've said, everyone likes to pretend they don't want drama but the exact same people (myself included) are knee deep in it. Why? Because its interesting? Because it takes us away from the pain of law school reading? Believe me, I would gladly take reading over dealing with you people. No, it is because I believe, wholly and truly that Orange County is a black hole for the vapid. Seriously. I have plenty of friends in their first year who are just not experiencing the exact pitfalls of [insert your lawschool name] High School.
The reason why I generalize and blame it on the location is because most of the drama is centered around people FROM the OC. Born, raised, kicking and screaming in Orange County. Not all, but most. The ones who are not are put in a different category: insecure and just too young. They justify every wrong and immoral thing they do to make themselves feel better. A great example is how this one guy (J) blatantly left his boy, N (who was the person that originally planning the trip) because J was able to get in a club with a bunch of hot girls. When asked, J said "I told [N] that his name was at the door... Oh, they said they didn't have it? I gave him the number of [insert another random club that no one was at]. Whatever. Not my problem." And, so it goes in Vegas for a continuous 3 nights. People being selfish and not caring what happened to the general group, so long as they were getting free drinks and living the lifestyle that they are obviously so not accustomed to. Sadly enough, these are the type of people i'm surrounded by. People who participate in instant gratification through any means. To hell with you if you get in my way, they say. I suppose its to be expected. All the signs have been there all year, I just chose not to see it.
This is not to say I didn't have fun in Vegas, because I definitely did. But my idealistic ways have melted. Even though I mocked half my classmates for just overall being stupid, I actually believed that I was surrounded by good people. Events in the past couple of weeks leaves me to believe otherwise and for that I think you, the readers, should be worried about what type of attorneys will be entering society two and a half years from now. Because these are not, I repeat, not, good people.
Sunday, February 17, 2008
TMI
Since 2004, students all over the world have been able to network online within his or her respective colleges breeding an obsessive frenzy on what goes on in his or her fellow colleagues' lives. Facebook. Yes, there were other sites such as Friendster, Myspace and, dare I say, Xanga. But these sites, did not have the allure of "privacy" within its own community. The creator of Facebook cleverly made sure that only people with college email addresses were able to log onto this site and view profiles. The other sites still did not enable this function. For years, I've used facebook and all its glory. People from when I was 4 popped back up into my life. People that I went to happy hour with suddenly became my "friend." While it was slightly annoying that I had to "de-tag" or privatize my inappropriate pictures in fear that future employers would not judge me based on my undergraduate discretions, I, like my fellow classmates, became obsessed with checking it multiple times a day.
Unfortunately, (and you may think dramatically), I have finally experienced the adverse effect of facebook on me and my life.
Yesterday, I happily checked facebook like any other day. I noted who I should make sure to wish Happy Birthday to and made sure I didn't have any outstanding notifications such as friend requests or wall postings. Then, clear as day, on the newsfeed glared back at me: [My ex-boyfriend] has been listed as "in a relationship." Blinking twice, I stupidly clicked on his profile and received confirmation that yes, facebook can actually reach out of my computer and slap me in the face. Now, before you sit there and judge me for even "caring" or hell, still being his friend on facebook, in my defense, I believed wholeheartedly that I was fine being the bigger person and staying friends with him.
Notwithstanding that I split my anger between the website and this boy. First of all, finally, I'm annoyed with the damn newsfeed. Is it truly necessary to broadcast such things all over the internet? I suppose that question is directed at him as well. I fail to recognize how it's possible to quickly jump into another relationship after we just ended ours (finally) after many many many years. Secondly, I'm not stupid. How cliche can you be to become official with your new girlfriend on facebook the day after Valentine's Day? (Please note that due to the Lenten season, I've refrained from adding my normal blunt and more than likely true adjectives before the word "girlfriend.") Lastly, ARE YOU REALLY THAT INSENSITIVE TO BROADCAST THAT YOU'RE IN A BRAND NEW RELATIONSHIP WITHOUT GIVING ME A HEADS UP? For the record, he emailed me with all the "fantastic" things going on his life. A good idea would have been, oh by the way, we're official and facebook makes it that way. Fuck you. And fuck facebook.
Yes, I know it sounds stupid and even childish. But I don't care. Facebook officially became my part nemesis. Something needs to be done with that Newsfeed because it gave me too.much.information. And yes, the immature bitch in me already removed all of HIS friends we have in common. Next step? Removing him. I wish there was a way to display on the newsfeed, "Angelica has deleted you as a friend on facebook. She says fuck you." I mean, why not? If the newsfeed can broadcast what people order from blockbuster online, I don't think it's unreasonable to want to publicly tell your exboyfriend how he's an inconsiderate asshole.
Oh right, thats why I have this blog.
Unfortunately, (and you may think dramatically), I have finally experienced the adverse effect of facebook on me and my life.
Yesterday, I happily checked facebook like any other day. I noted who I should make sure to wish Happy Birthday to and made sure I didn't have any outstanding notifications such as friend requests or wall postings. Then, clear as day, on the newsfeed glared back at me: [My ex-boyfriend] has been listed as "in a relationship." Blinking twice, I stupidly clicked on his profile and received confirmation that yes, facebook can actually reach out of my computer and slap me in the face. Now, before you sit there and judge me for even "caring" or hell, still being his friend on facebook, in my defense, I believed wholeheartedly that I was fine being the bigger person and staying friends with him.
Notwithstanding that I split my anger between the website and this boy. First of all, finally, I'm annoyed with the damn newsfeed. Is it truly necessary to broadcast such things all over the internet? I suppose that question is directed at him as well. I fail to recognize how it's possible to quickly jump into another relationship after we just ended ours (finally) after many many many years. Secondly, I'm not stupid. How cliche can you be to become official with your new girlfriend on facebook the day after Valentine's Day? (Please note that due to the Lenten season, I've refrained from adding my normal blunt and more than likely true adjectives before the word "girlfriend.") Lastly, ARE YOU REALLY THAT INSENSITIVE TO BROADCAST THAT YOU'RE IN A BRAND NEW RELATIONSHIP WITHOUT GIVING ME A HEADS UP? For the record, he emailed me with all the "fantastic" things going on his life. A good idea would have been, oh by the way, we're official and facebook makes it that way. Fuck you. And fuck facebook.
Yes, I know it sounds stupid and even childish. But I don't care. Facebook officially became my part nemesis. Something needs to be done with that Newsfeed because it gave me too.much.information. And yes, the immature bitch in me already removed all of HIS friends we have in common. Next step? Removing him. I wish there was a way to display on the newsfeed, "Angelica has deleted you as a friend on facebook. She says fuck you." I mean, why not? If the newsfeed can broadcast what people order from blockbuster online, I don't think it's unreasonable to want to publicly tell your exboyfriend how he's an inconsiderate asshole.
Oh right, thats why I have this blog.
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Beezy
Beezy: Another word for "bitch" made popular by Mac Dre (Bay Area represent!)
Synonyms: bitch, hoe, slut, skank, hooker, ugly, whore, fake, female dog
My lovely roommate introduced me to this term back in August and it has creeped up in my vernacular. I've pondered what a beezy would mean to me. And now, thanks to facebook, I've come up with the perfect example.
While it is somewhat nice and mature that my ex-boyfriend and I are "friends," it's still jarring to see someone move on - especially when he tagged himself with the new girl. Of course the "new" me (i.e. the one who made a resolution to be chill about life in 2008) says "great for him!" But, as we all know, old habits die hard.
So, on my story goes. Once he tagged a picture of him with this new girl, I became obsessed with figuring out who she was and looking at other pictures that her friends stupidly keep open on facebook. (If anyone knows her, someone might want to suggest privatizing all those pictures. Making out with girls, taking bong hits and wearing trashtacular outfits may not be the best way to get a job in Washington, D.C. come graduation.)
But I digress.
In my facebook stalking fury, I came across a bunch of pictures with who I can only assume is new girl's best friend. I sat there and thought, "[Best friend's name] where have I seen that before? Hmm.. where have I... oh my God." I go back to my recently added friends and see that the new girl's best friend requested me as a friend on facebook!
In my haste, I just assumed that she was part of my sorority. Sometimes the younger girls like to facebook some of the older sisters, especially if they are in the same "phamily." Upon further review, the friend's we have in common are not from my chapter and that she was actually part of another sorority. And then, it dawned on me: I duped into being facebook stalked!
What I want to know is, why is it so pertinent to see my profile? As a law student, you're really not going to get much from me except my facebook pictures. And believe me, after living in Orange County, I've meticulously combed over my "tagged" pictures to make sure that I don't look ugly, fat or trashy. This means, if you're trying to find dirt, you're not going to find it there. Furthermore, I am sure, that you - the reader - might be thinking (rightfully so) that I'm a huge hypocrite.
However, I feel justified in saying that at the very least I don't send my friends to facebook this new girlfriend. I mean for the love of God, light facebook stalking and bitching on the phone to your friends - NORMAL. I think 5 years of being in a relationship gives me a little bit of leeway of losing some form of sanity.
Point? I have finally been able to say without a doubt that I can finally apply what I've learned in California to my past life in DC. Girl who facebooked me, by way of my exboyfriend's new girl, is a beezy. And all the synonyms duly apply.
Synonyms: bitch, hoe, slut, skank, hooker, ugly, whore, fake, female dog
My lovely roommate introduced me to this term back in August and it has creeped up in my vernacular. I've pondered what a beezy would mean to me. And now, thanks to facebook, I've come up with the perfect example.
While it is somewhat nice and mature that my ex-boyfriend and I are "friends," it's still jarring to see someone move on - especially when he tagged himself with the new girl. Of course the "new" me (i.e. the one who made a resolution to be chill about life in 2008) says "great for him!" But, as we all know, old habits die hard.
So, on my story goes. Once he tagged a picture of him with this new girl, I became obsessed with figuring out who she was and looking at other pictures that her friends stupidly keep open on facebook. (If anyone knows her, someone might want to suggest privatizing all those pictures. Making out with girls, taking bong hits and wearing trashtacular outfits may not be the best way to get a job in Washington, D.C. come graduation.)
But I digress.
In my facebook stalking fury, I came across a bunch of pictures with who I can only assume is new girl's best friend. I sat there and thought, "[Best friend's name] where have I seen that before? Hmm.. where have I... oh my God." I go back to my recently added friends and see that the new girl's best friend requested me as a friend on facebook!
In my haste, I just assumed that she was part of my sorority. Sometimes the younger girls like to facebook some of the older sisters, especially if they are in the same "phamily." Upon further review, the friend's we have in common are not from my chapter and that she was actually part of another sorority. And then, it dawned on me: I duped into being facebook stalked!
What I want to know is, why is it so pertinent to see my profile? As a law student, you're really not going to get much from me except my facebook pictures. And believe me, after living in Orange County, I've meticulously combed over my "tagged" pictures to make sure that I don't look ugly, fat or trashy. This means, if you're trying to find dirt, you're not going to find it there. Furthermore, I am sure, that you - the reader - might be thinking (rightfully so) that I'm a huge hypocrite.
However, I feel justified in saying that at the very least I don't send my friends to facebook this new girlfriend. I mean for the love of God, light facebook stalking and bitching on the phone to your friends - NORMAL. I think 5 years of being in a relationship gives me a little bit of leeway of losing some form of sanity.
Point? I have finally been able to say without a doubt that I can finally apply what I've learned in California to my past life in DC. Girl who facebooked me, by way of my exboyfriend's new girl, is a beezy. And all the synonyms duly apply.
Monday, January 7, 2008
New Year. New Semester.
A new semester begins tomorrow and, sadly, it's not the copious amounts of reading I have that I dread. Ah to go to school in Orange County with some of these people. I would bet my loan check reimbursement that the same shallow vapid people arrive in their designer clothes with their noses turned up and us peasants who don't meet their qualifications of being spoken to. You know who i'm talking about. The people who honestly believe that what they wear and how much makeup they apply will thoroughly increase their grades.
[For the record we only received 2 grades to date.] Now, generally speaking, it does bother me that these people don't really believe acknowledging my presence isn't worth their time because I don't own anything Chanel or Juicy Couture or i'm not a tall hot blonde. However, I did a lot of reflecting over the break after the year I had and this is what I've come up with:
a.) Even though it bothers me that not everyone likes me, why should I really care? Is it really important to deplete my wallet in order to impress others? No. I can use that cash to engage in fun activities such as drinking, eating, and going to Disneyland.
b.) I mean really, the girls I am referencing are actually ugly heifers. And that includes on the inside.
c.) There are people who I want in my life. It is in my control as to who is and who isn't in it. And why would I want their negative energy? As my sister would say, "bad juju"
d.) I would like to point out and acknowledge that I am just like them in judging. In my defense though, I will always believe that I don't like people because my heart tells me that they are bad people. If God gave me one gift, it is definitely that ability. Judging just means i'm human. And my judgments are only harshly negative when these assholes piss me off. :)
Either way, I hope I can fight the machine. I've made a resolution to stop playing into the OC stereotypes and stop watching so much junk. Ah back to the good ole days when I watched the news in the morning, not E! And there's so much to watch this year in the news with the elections rapidly approaching.
Stay tuned for details on my first day and my trip to DC for New Years 2008.
And, of course, Welcome to 2008!
[For the record we only received 2 grades to date.] Now, generally speaking, it does bother me that these people don't really believe acknowledging my presence isn't worth their time because I don't own anything Chanel or Juicy Couture or i'm not a tall hot blonde. However, I did a lot of reflecting over the break after the year I had and this is what I've come up with:
a.) Even though it bothers me that not everyone likes me, why should I really care? Is it really important to deplete my wallet in order to impress others? No. I can use that cash to engage in fun activities such as drinking, eating, and going to Disneyland.
b.) I mean really, the girls I am referencing are actually ugly heifers. And that includes on the inside.
c.) There are people who I want in my life. It is in my control as to who is and who isn't in it. And why would I want their negative energy? As my sister would say, "bad juju"
d.) I would like to point out and acknowledge that I am just like them in judging. In my defense though, I will always believe that I don't like people because my heart tells me that they are bad people. If God gave me one gift, it is definitely that ability. Judging just means i'm human. And my judgments are only harshly negative when these assholes piss me off. :)
Either way, I hope I can fight the machine. I've made a resolution to stop playing into the OC stereotypes and stop watching so much junk. Ah back to the good ole days when I watched the news in the morning, not E! And there's so much to watch this year in the news with the elections rapidly approaching.
Stay tuned for details on my first day and my trip to DC for New Years 2008.
And, of course, Welcome to 2008!
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
In the interim:
Tomorrow is my last final of my first semester. I still have yet to figure out if I'm coming to DC for New Years. Oh well. In the meantime: Jamie Lynne Spears is pregnant.
And of course the media will glorify her and her 16-year-old pregnancy.
I only thank God that my 14 year old sister doesn't watch Nickelodeon. Or she would think it would be cool to get pregnant. Come on people, teach your children about safe sex for the love of God.
And of course the media will glorify her and her 16-year-old pregnancy.
I only thank God that my 14 year old sister doesn't watch Nickelodeon. Or she would think it would be cool to get pregnant. Come on people, teach your children about safe sex for the love of God.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)