Dear Corona(s)

I am super drunk. "Super" is superior than "slightly". I miss you so much. I love airports. People come and go, people say goodbye and they say hello, they say I love Yous and they leave with a sick hope in their haearts for better times. I am going home in a 12+ hours. Christina will be waiting with open arms at the airport, and I will greet her like family, perhaps even a hug? No, that might be a bit too much... although you never know in th e moment what might happen. Yes.. I think I might hug you. : )

I am spending my last night in Seattle with a few good friends and a couple of beers. I was so sad earlier today.... I went to Central in hopes to talkign my teacher into giivng me a good grad,e, but I fucked up hardxcore. I dunno... whatever? I'll take it in stride, with a big fucking leap, hope in my heart, that i'll be okay in that class and classes at Su. it was my fault... I was filled with apathy, uncaring, resentfu;;ll, the weight of responsibitly in getting a degree... it was too much this quarter. But now, I care. Isn't that odd? I actally care. You make me care. You make me want to be a better person.

I have a song for you. Stars - Undertow. Look it up. It reminds me of you everytime I listen to it. I have never felt this way before. I feel scared. I am scared. I don't know what to tell yo,u. I am scared of what can be, of whwa tcould be... I am so used to dicking around or being dicked around with... it's hard for me to focus on the present. I am really scared. I am so fucking scared.

I have a heavy heart right now. I want to hear your voice, your touch, your lips. I want to hold your hand. It's hard to define what this is. Are we more than a drunken blog post? YOu make me want to write. You make me want to care. It's ridiculosu. I am so scared... I am so used to being a crazy, uncaring, self-deprecating woman. But you, you make me feel like a little kid. It happened so quickl, I didnt even see it coming (pun) ha. You will always be the better person on this highway. You have more balls than I do.

I relaly don't know what else to tell you. I am sitting, here, durnk as hell (what else is new), and all I can think of is the day when you can say "hello" to me again. I have never been a sap. I never considered a relationship. (Is this even a relationship?) I am a ramblin' free roaming fuck. But you, you make me want to stand still. Isnt that absurd? You are a bit of a shit though lol. Still slightly mad at you, but I will always want you to hold me (even though you are an idiot for not coming last night).

I am so full of shit. I really am. What the FUCK is going on?? I have always held myself in this image I've created for myself. I am: uncaring, unresponsive, unrequited... and yet, I am waiting on my front steps, smoking a cigarette with this sick hope that you are right around the corner.

Thank god I am leaving tomorrow morning. I am disgusted at the sight of myself. I have never been like this before. I have prided myself on being able to quit when I know it'll become something more. But this? I want to be able to look back on ten years and think to myself, "wow, you were a stupid girl, but at least you took a chance, and that's more thaen anyoene can ask of you."



I am on my fourth beer and still thinking of you. I am filled with silliness and a tidal wave of crashing emotions that can only be descibred as, well, me missing you like hell. I am inarticulate drunk and even sober. I am a goof around you. One day, I'll let my guard down, and you can actually hear mmy normal laugh. I laugh hysterically, I gasp for air, I hold my stomach and tears slid edown my face. It's a sickening sight, and I really don't want you to see it. Only because I'm an idiot when I can't control my laugh.

Actually, I may have let my guard down around you already...



Your apal,
Carolyn hYyuynh

Just kidding!!

My day got a lot better. I am a complete goof.

Am currently debating if I should go to psych, pack, or write my essay.


I'm pretty sure I'm just going to take a fattyass nap.


I think I might miss you. Maybe. Just a little. I am still irritated at you, though. : )

Dear College

NOPE, I am still a fuck-up. same piece of shit as always. fuck you hardxcore, college.

am seriously considering dropping out again. I do not give a fuck if I will always be stuck as another blue-collar citizen of the united states of fucking america.


fuck you and fuck your mother.


I have completely fucked up this quarter. It really is all my fault, which makes it worse. I hate my life.


Your fucking Pal,
Carolyn K. Huynh

Dear California

So I bought me a ticket
I caught a plane to Spain
Went to a party down a red dirt road
There were lots of pretty people there
Reading rolling stone, reading vogue
They said, how long can you hang around?
I said a week, maybe two,
Just until my skin turns brown
Then I'm going home to California
California I'm coming home
Oh will you take me as I am
Strung out on another man
California, I'm coming home.

-Joni Mitchell "California"


I am nervous. It is an odd idea- seeing my family for only a few hours and then catching a flight back to Seattle the next morning. My mother has no idea I'll be in LA for three days, she thinks I am flying in for one day/a couple of hours. I'm only stopping by my house to see my dog and to ask for help on rent money. It'll be strange... seeing them again. Hopefully, I won't look too shitfaced when I show up on my front steps after Mexico.

I hope Buckley still remembers who I am.

I am excited for: the Hughes' sisters, Thyvu, gorgeous French men, making Thanksgiving dinner, Buckley, good conversations, margaritas in Mexico, getting the hell out of Seattle, seeing my whore of a sister, and I suppose the idea of home; whatever that means.



I sure hope the weather is nice down there. I'm kidding. It's always nice.


Your Pal,
Carolyn K. Huynh

Dear Sir

My body feels heavy, my mind is racing, my heart is doing flips. I am more paranoid and anxious than normal. I have two essays, two books to read, a flight to catch, a few old friends to see, a dog to hug, a sister to tell how much of a whore she is.... it's all jumbled in my brain. In the end, it is superfluous in the grand scheme, because none of it wouldn't be as important without you. You make me want to brush my hair, put on contacts, stop being an ass, go to classes, put on make-up, hell, you make me want to leave the house - and that's saying a lot.


You are one brave soul for taking me on.


I feel strange. I don't think I've ever quite experienced this kind of happiness without the help of a couple glasses of wine and a few cigarettes. Hm...

I am off to Chinatown for a last hurrah with Amrit before she leaves. girl talk rawr rawr. I'll probably go back home, crawl into my bed, turn off the lights, watch a couple more episodes of Zeitgeist (9/11 totally inside job, bitch), procrastinate on my essay... but for some odd reason, the idea of taking a fatty nap doesn't come to mind. wow. fuck's sake, I'm already a changed woman.


Your pal (you are more than a pal)
Carolyn K. Huynh

"Carolyn, you are never full of shit."



Thought that was one of the best things anyone has ever said about me.

Dear Twilighters

Oh Jesus fucking Christ. Let me just preface this by saying that the twilight movie was amazing. Don't get me wrong, it was COMPLETE shit. ABSOLUTELY horrible. But it was so funny. I could not contain my laughter at all during the entire movie. Aubrey was worse than me though. Oh GOD it was BRILLIANT. I am on such a high right now. I am cracking open a Corona right now (sry Cherlaine, I'm drinkin' yo beer), and talking over the fucking brilliant scenes in Twilight. We are definitely going back, but this time, we're bringing alcohol... and Alex Casper (hahah!). Every time Edward Cullen smiles his crooked smile.. we have to take a shot. A shot of BEER. Oh fuck, I am kinda drunk right now. Hella funny. It was haella funny. fuck fuck fuck, I'm shitfaced because I my grammar and spellin is a bit off. apologies. apologies all around.

Okay, I am in a really good mood right now. I plan on drinking till 8:15 - when my class starts aand show up shitfaced and drunk as hell. I hella fucking skipped today. Slept right through my 8:15 and central class and just plain skippd out on psych. Cherlaine wasn't going to go , so I sure as hell wasn't. God, I'm so inartcculate right now. package deal mofuckers.

The thing that was so sad, was all the fuckin single girls in the crowd and the older women. so sad. so desperate. GOD i hope I'm not like that. OR END UP LIKE THAT. jesuschrist.

Aubrey is getting another beer for me. hahaha.

aw shit. we have having an intense talk about traveling right now. We really want to go to Europe this summer, and bring my bffl, Christina with us. Christina is amazing. she really is. she's such a free-spirit. Christina, if you are reading this, I will go with you to the middle east and beyond. Aubrey and I want to travel with you so much; you'd be the best fucking person to travel with. All we really need is a backpack, a couch, and alcohol. Ya dig? Can't wait to see you, homegirl.

God, I'm a blubbering drunk fool.

I just want to get the hell out of here. Aubrey is such a freespirit. I wouldn't say I am so much a freespirit, but I definitely do NOT say no to anything. I will do anything I deem is utterly stupid. I skinnydipped in Canada with her and I half-skinnydipped with her at Volcano park in the fountain. I sure as hell will take off my clothes with her in Europe and beyond. Christina is amazing. she called me one afternoon, told me to pack my bags, and within a few hours we were off on a road trip to san francisco. we went to the park, I played my dulcimer, and she sang Joni Mitchell. Do you see how awesome the people I know are?? DO YOU??

so shitfaced, I am. I have about five more hours to go before my class starts. i REALY need to go. it's been too long since I've gone. fuck you hardxcore, core classes. I really don't give a fuck. I REALLY don't care if it takes me 5 years to graduate, you are absolutely unnecsssary in my life.

Christina is the instigator. she really is. I have lived vicariously through her for far too long. she is the one with the plan, I am her sheep. aubrey has pledged her allegience to her as well - though she has never met her. I tell her all the great stories about her and she too, is in love with her. So, Christina Hughghes, Hughges, Hughes, fuck sorry too drunk to spell your name right, we will follow you throughout the world having crazy adventures. both of the drunk and sober variety. hopefully, more of the drunk variety.

I am feeling really good right now. I can't explain this feeling. I was feeling really sad earlier, but now, after seeing how silly the world really is, and having a good drunken conversation with a really good friend, Ive realized that beauty is subjective. I will always find beauty in everything. I just hope that one day, this naive feeling I have deep within myself. this sick perservering hope that I carry with me, in my heart, will one day help me out. I hope to fall hopelessly in love one day. this earthquake shattering mind blowing feeling and emotionssa that make me feel real. you make me feel real. you want to know why I keep eating those goddamn vietnamese sandwiches? it's because I carry that sick hope with me everywhere - I hope that whenever I eat it, it won't hurt me. is this a good or a bad thing? it's really up to you to decide.

I am on literally on a drunken rant. this is a hellva of a long blog. if you hav ekept up with my crazy rant by now, then kudos. pats on the back.


I ahve hope. such, sickening hope, that it'll be alright. everything, I mean. I am a fool. a complete fuck up. but you know what? that's alright. at least I'm not a 50 year old woman wearing a twilight shirt and crying over robert pattinson. I'm doing pretty well for a nineteen year old. I have grandiose plasn which i will follow through on. I want to go to prague. Oh god, how I want to go to prague so badly. and greece. italy, tibet, india.... I want to help, volunteer, I want to do the fucking best I can in this fucked up crazy world I live in.


I can be better. I know I can. As much as a drunken fool as I am, I have two hands, two feet, two eyes, two ears, and one heart. That's enough, right? Please, tell me it is.


This blog has absolutely NO direction. I originaly want ed to talk abotu Twilight but, notw that the alcohol has hit me. I am lost. I am a completely lost soul. As ella so elqouently put it, I am lost with an apathetic elan.


Forgive me for being such a sorry excuse for a human being. I'll make it up one day, I promise. I may not end up doing anything great with my life, nor will I cure cancer. But, I'll try m fucking best to save everyone, one by one, as best as I can.


your Pal,a
a
scarolyn ahyuynh

Dear Stupid People of the World

I hate your fucking guts. You people... no, you are too stupid to be even categorized in the human race, you're just idiots, THE WHOLE LOT OF YOU.

WHEN YOU SEE A CAR ON THE ROAD, AN AVERAGE PERSON DOES NOT RUN ACROSS THE MIDDLE OF THE FUCKING ROAD THINKING THEY CAN BEAT A FUCKING CAR TO THE PUNCH. NO! NO!!!! THAT'S NOT HOW IT WORKS. ESPECIALLY WHEN THAT PERSON AKA ME IS GOING PAST THE FUCKING SPEED LIMIT. DO YOU UNDERSTAND? DO YOU COMPREHEND??? SEATTLE, Y'ALLS FUCKIN' CRAZY. THIS ISN'T THE FIRST TIME I'VE ALMOST KILLED A PERSON SINCE I BEGAN DRIVING IN SEATTLE.

YOU MAKE GEORGE SO SAD. GEORGE IS A LITTLE TOYOTA YARIS THAT IS AS ANXIOUS AND PARANOID AS HIS OWNER. YOU FUCKING IDIOTS GIVE US SUCH HEART ATTACKS!!!!!! UGH.

ALSO, to whoever decided to FUCKING box me in this morning. I swear to god. I swear to fucking god, I'm going to find out who you are. This isn't LA for fuck's sake. how dare you park within 30 feet of the fucking stop sign? WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK

I need a fucking cigarette. I hate people. People fucking disgust me.

I will beat you about the fucking face and the groin till you have no more life pulse in you. I will also eat your fucking babies and smash your goddamn faces into jelly. Do you understand this much?

Do NOT fuck with George. I am NOT opposed to just running you the fuck over instead of slamming on the breaks and jolting forward and banging my head on the fucking wheel. The only reason why I have braked is so I don't have to deal with the insurance company - you're goddamn lucky I don't want my rate to go up again. You should fucking thank that police cunt of an office that pulled me over and gave me a $500 ticket. I fucking hate you and I fucking hate Tacoma.



Your Pal,
Carolyn K. Huynh


P.S. vry excited bout the twilight premiere tonight.

May This Be Love

I am very, very happy for you. I'm glad we talked today; even if it was only for half an hour. Just promise me you'll stop being an asshole. Srsly. You're a dick every time you get a girlfriend and you're a nice guy when you're lonely. I hope me yelling at you to stop being an asshole today has helped you realize that the girl always falls for your nice guy persona and gets sick of the asshole that comes out when you get the girl. So, you know. Stoppit. You know, you're not too shabby of a guy, so don't fuck up something that could potentially bring you some happiness. God knows you need a reason to stop complaining all the time. Sorry we've been so out of touch. Hopefully, I'll see you around again someday. Hey, I still think of you whenever I hear "Maybe I'm Amazed" or whenever I see that one particular Simpsons episode. Just don't fuck this up, kid. I'm counting on you to prove me wrong.


Anyway, I just came back from hearing Annie Leibovitz lecture at Benaroya Hall. She is amazing. Her life is staggering. She also has one hell of a sense of humor; something I never knew about her. Fun fact of the day: Annie Leibovitz is funny. I almost cried when she was explaining how she conceptualized the John Lennon and Yoko Ono picture:

It was so beautiful seeing this picture being presented by her today. I am left shaken. Hands down, one of the most romantic pictures I've ever had the pleasure of bumping into on this big blue earth. Hearing and visually seeing all the works that has inspired her throughout her life has left me admitedly a little heartbroken. I'm not quite sure why, but when the lecture was over, I left the hall with a heavy heart.


I feel strange. I'm not quite sure how to describe this feeling. Oh wait, I think it's disappointment and maybe a small dose of envy. Nostalgia, maybe? I guess what I am trying very inarticuately to say is that I miss first kisses. Does that make sense? Well, this is my blog. My house. So, I can say whatever the hell I want to say. Bitch.

I know it's not a race. But it sure as hell feels like it. I don't want to be the one left behind, like always. I'm such a stupid kid. I know I am. But, I'm not too bad. Right? I like to think I have a heart. It just killed me today seeing how people turn their backs on people that need help. After the lecture, a homeless woman was waiting outside, waiting for the rich fat cats with front row seats to Annie Leibovitz in their fucking trench coats to spare a few cents to help her out. I hated it when they kept walking or they wouldn't even look her in the eye. Not even to fucking awknowledge her existence. I know I haven't been living in a city for that long because I haven't become jaded to seeing a human being in need. Hell, I hope I never lose that feeling. You know the one. Compassion. I gave her what little money I had. A measely 75 cents and Ella gave her a dollar. Not much at all. But coming from a girl that's a hundred dollars short for next month's rent, I tried my fucking best. People disappoint me.

I am envious of people that have a reason to wake up in the morning. I am nostalgic for that knee-shaking moment when I got my very first kiss from a boy. For first dates, first conversations, first realizations when you think to yourself "wow, I really like this kid." I don't know what happened today, but I am exhausted. Hearing an old friend's voice. Hearing someone as great as Annie speak. Seeing a friend for the first time in two weeks, and not even have her look me in the eye. Strange, isn't it? I think I feel too much sometimes.

I think I know what's wrong with me. I think I just really miss my dog. Isn't that silly? I have always related better with animals then people. But oh man, my dog is just so badass. He'll always roll over whenever I tell him a really bad joke, or he'll dance with me when no one else will. I dunno, it's just nice having someone to talk to and not have that person get bored of you or ever leave you for being utterly stupid.

I don't want to fuck anything up. I think I just need a fatty cigarette. Those always calm me down.



I guess I just ain't got no more fight in me. Just another stray dog livin' in this crazy world, waiting patiently for her waterfall.

Dear Miserable Wench(es)

I took hella fatty naps today. Cherlaine woke me up from said fatty nap and wanted me to take her to Auburn and back. I accepted the quest because she is bffl after all. The whole ride there we were shouting Always Sunny quotes at each other:
"Get me a flagon of ale, wench!"
"I'll beat him about the face, chest, and maybe the groin until he has no more life pulse!"
"You keep your sister as your slave?"

Walked in half an hour late to my 8:15 class. The professor gave me an irritated look and grudgingly accepted my essay. I came back home, sat on my bed, and had a lengthy debate with Cherlaine slash Aubrey about going to my Central class. I decided that my presence there was not needed. It hasn't been needed for the past five weeks, so why bother now? So, we all decided to take fatty naps together. That's how homegirls roll.

Am now currently in psych 12o. sitting next to BFFL aka Cherlaine. I still blame her for making me take this useless class. I just dropped 3k on a class I don't even need. She has been the bane of my existance for far too long. But she is making it up to me and has agreed to help me level up. we are awesome for playing wow during class. In fact, we made a several new fwiends today. a gnome mage and a druid night elf. the gnome mage seemed like a real cunt though. the druid night elf, lisachang, and carelyn had an epic battle at the frostmane cave. I, of course, died on both carelyn and druid night elf:

lisachang craps out during epic battle and is currently trying to find her body.
meanwhile...
carelyn (aka Cherlaine) the gnome: sry. i have 2 wait for my dead friend.
druid night elf: k. l8ter.

....


Cherlaine and I have decided to skip the second half of class so we snuck out during break. The professor is extremely wary of the both of us; she knows we're a package deal. One cannot be present without the other. One cannot live while the other survives (harry potter prophecy, bitch) This has been a recurring theme for the past five classes.
Cherlaine has graciously agreed to buy me dinner (vry nice of her) as well as for Wisa Wang. I, in exchange, buy her beer. having fwiends is nice.

just woke up from another fatty nap. I feel like I've been subsisting off of 2 hour increments of fatty naps, food poisoning, cowboy bebop, Cherlaine's Marlboro 27s, and good conversation. I still feel like a miserable wench though. Cherlaine and Aubrey are also miserable wenches as well. we validate each other's existence.

I feel very lethargic. am currently debating if I should do something tonight, or just curl up in my bed, streamline some shows, wallow some more, throw back a couple of Coronas, sneak attack a cigarette in, and call it a night.



lolz. I'm gonna watch some anime, drink some cranberry juice, put my hair up, continue the debate on the subject of naps with Aubrey, plead with Cherlaine to help me level up tonight, tell Cherlaine she's an ass for not doing it, go smoke a ciggie with Cherlaine cause she is terrible at not giving me anymore cigarettes, and call it a night with a couple of miserable wenches.



Your fellow wench,
Carolyn K. Huynh


P.S. Someone needs to wash the fucking dishes. and it's not gonna be me. I'm not gonna do Charlie Work.

Dear Life

Here I am. Still slightly weakened from last night's rendezvous with food poisoning (yes, again) along with the world's biggest cramps. So weak, I am. So unhealthy, I am. So full of contempt for myself, I have. complain complain complain. I am currently keeled over my computer, wincing in pain, and still furiously attempting to finish this godforsaken essay. I have roughly about fifteen minutes to crank out 5 more pages. and yet... I still have time to blog. fascinating how my mind works.

The idea of food disgusts me. I still have two more sandwiches in the fridge.... Aubrey has advised me to throw them away, but, I feel like I should save them for tomorrow (lolz). idontgiveafuck.vietnamese sandwiches ftw!!!

Despite everything, in the midst of all this hustle and bustle (and physical pain), I have been once again proven wrong about life. It's a strange and unpredictable little ho... and kinda beautiful. You sure know how to fuck with me, don't you universe? You got one hell of a sense of a humor.

I checked my email in the whee hours of this early morning and discovered to my surprise that my gal pal/homegirl/BFFL/stank whore, Christina (lovely gal, fellow war comrade from high school) had sent me a plane ticket home for Thanksgiving via travelocity.com. The tears were coming man, they just couldn't be stopped. I was inundated with a series of emotions. I shall be flying out next Wednesday to LAX, to spend the holiday with a few good friends; the only family I've ever known in California. I know you are reading this, so I thank you Christina, from the bottom of my heart. Homegirl, I have no words for you. The fact that I used the word "homegirl" should sufficiently express my gratitude for you and for giving me this... strange overwhelming feeling in my heart at the sight of seeing a plane ticket in my inbox booked for home (i.e. to you). What's that feeling called? Oh right... happiness. It's an unfamiliar emotion. I kinda dig it. And I kinda dig you. See ya next Wednesday. Don't forget to pick me up from the airport.


I have been in fact, proven wrong several times this weekend about my theory/outlook on life. All I really need is few good people to survive.



aw christ, I guess I have something less to complain about. does this mean I shouldn't walk around with a scowl etched on my face anymore?

anyway, I am clearly just dicking around yet again. I'm debating about skipping class and just telling my teacher I have hella cramps, mouth cancer, food poisoning, a couple of STDS, a retarded older sister, a roommate that has seen me throw up sober, drunk, through several cases of food poisoning, anxiety, and often times just for the hell of it, and maybe a serious case of self-deprecation that just cannot be cured (though I may take some painkillers tonight. just cause I can. bitch)

Okay, I've decided. I'm skipping. 4/10 pages of essay is being emailed to her along with a hearty explanation of my current physical state that isn't being bullshitted for the first time. I really did have food poisoning this time. ironic, no?


Your Pal (only clinging onto you out of curiosity about your next move)
Carolyn K. Huynh




P.S. Thanks.

DEAR VIETNAMESE SANDWICH SHOP

YOU HAVE FOOLED ME TWICE AGAIN THIS YEAR. I HAVE ONCE AGAIN FOUND MYSELF WITH FOOD POISONING AFTER VISITING YOUR SHOP. I CURSE YOUR NAME IN VAIN.

MY TUMMY FEELS WEIRD.


VENDETTA. VENDETTA!!!!!!!! THIS IS THE SECOND TIME. YOU WILL NOT GET AWAY WITH THIS.


YOUR PAL (NOT!!!!!)
CAROLYN K HUYNH

Dear Carolyn at age 39

I went to Volunteer Park today to protest Prop 8. It was amazing, inspiring, the usual what-have-you feelings you get at protests, the best parts of the day was when I got my fill of sneak attacking furry animals and rough-housing with them. I stood next to my best friend and protested for her future and for all my other gay/lesbian friends from back home that couldn't stand there next to me. I saw people holding hands, kissing each other... they were basically fighting for their right to love. I don't know, it's kinda inspirational isn't it? You don't see shit like this on a regular basis. I shit on the idea of marriage, but today, I've completely changed my mind about it. Complete 360. I should only be so lucky to spend my life with someone I absolutely love and adore for the rest of my life without any prejudices or inequalities.

I have been reevaluating my life a lot lately. I read my good friend, Kelsey's blog that she had written about me, and I felt really sad. The saddest I've felt in a long time - and I'm generally a sad person. I'm glad fall quarter is almost over. I'm glad I'm going home early. I'm done. See ya, assholes.

I really am full of shit. I know I am. I make grandiose plans about changing my life, doing great things, being a better person, stop being less asshole-ish, write a book, etc etc. I complain a lot. But everybody knows I'm never going to do anything about it. It's just who I am. I am a true American - I expect instant gratification for doing absolute shit. I want Obama to clean up this country in the first week he enters the White House or else I'm turning against him. I want him to withdraw from the war, I want prop 8 overturned, I want stem cell research to be back on, I want the economy to be fixed, I want more money for my college fund, I want my grandma to be taken care of, I want universal healthcare etc etc etc. Basically, what I really want is for everything to be alright. I really don't want the world to end in 2012. I know I have a bet going with Cherlaine about the world ending and I actually sided with the world ending in 4 years, I know I wallow in my room and say how much I hate my life, but in the end, I want to be able to look back on Carolyn at age 19 in twenty years and say "wow, you were a real dick" and laugh. Cause I know I'm a real dick, and I really hope the Carolyn at age 39 is awesome. I hope she has found someone she really loves and can be a real goofball around. I hope you don't end up with some Republican dick that talks about politics all the time. (Although, I hear sex with Republicans is really good and super kinky. ow ow ow lisa chang) I hope the Carolyn at 39 is still friends with all the great people she met at age 19. I hope the Carolyn at 39 has finally written her magnum opus and is published under Random House. I hope the Carolyn at 39 has gotten a sandwich named after her. I hope the Carolyn at 39 has lived in Tibet and found spiritual peace. I hope the Carolyn at 39 is a real stunner, that whenever she walks down the sidewalk men faint at the sight of her. I hope the Carolyn at 39 can actually make a real meal and eat it without throwing up.

Basically though, I hope the Carolyn at 39 isn't as ashamed of herself as the Carolyn at 19 is of her right now.


Your Pal (but not for long if you keep up this attitude),
Carolyn K. Huynh



fuck.

Dear Hydrocodone

I think you are my favorite painkiller thus far. You knock me out quite easily, numb my entire body and are better then oxycodoine (and I thought nothing was better then oxycodoine!). I have been somewhat paranoid that you will be kidnapped by Lisa Chang's greedy little clutches when I'm out of the house... but thankfully, you are still tucked away on my nightstand, ready to serve me when I come home and to squash my swollen cheeks and to give me a one-two knock out punch into the deep darkness of sleep. Tres jolie, hydrocodone, tres jolie!

Anyway, I would like to kindly thank Cherlaine for driving me to get said surgery performed. She has been gracious enough to wait in the waiting room for me, wait for me to stop being unconsciousness, carry my ass back to my apartment, go fetch me painkillers... in general, thanks for being mah bitch. (Bitch.) Yesterday was a complete black-out, too many drugs were injected into my system for me to remember anything. It was glorious.

I guess it's the end of an era. Goodbye cigarettes! Goodbye Marlboros! You have served me well these past two years, but I'm afraid I need to move on (I have to move on, it wasn't a willing choice). I will miss using you as a social excuse to leave the room and not talk to people, but I guess now that I've quit smoking I guess I have no choice but to talk to people. Ah! Such is the misery of life.

I am slowly replacing cigarettes with more healthier things. Pour example, I wish to acquire (do) the following items to better my life:
-a kid drum set (I used to play the drums and I think it'd be adorable if I started it up again, BUT on a kid drum set! Genius, no?)
-start a band
-bring my guitar up from CA
-pentax camera (always wanted one)
-canon rebel (ditto)
-level up in WoW
-go to classes (esp. Seattle Central, the teacher hates me)
-finish up UW application
-be nicer to Cherlaine
-be more healthy/clean
-wudeva

Tomorrow, I register for classes, and if all goes well I will have no classes on Fridays. 3dayweekendftw. 40z and cocktails 9-5 bitches.

I am also going to go back to IHop and see if the guy still likes me enough to hire me as a waitress/hostess. He seemed real keen and knows me pretty well. He is also creepy and salviates whenever women are present. He's a keeper. A true gentleman. I would be proud to work by his side. I am also proud that I am considered crazy enough (and look crazy enough) to work at that IHop branch. Go Seattle!

If only my mother could see me now.


Your pal,
Carolyn K. Huynh

Dear Anti-Christ

I'm really into urban legends and conspiracy theories. I'm a big believer that 9/11 was an inside job and that something cataclysmic will happen in 2012 (maybe not the world ending - but something will happen that will forever change how humans, machines, and the earth connect). Lately, I've been having intense discussions with my housemates, Cherlaine & Ella if Obama is really the anti-christ. It's just so interesting; I'm not quite sure I believe he is - it's pretty far-fetched... I mean they thought JFK, Neitzsche, several popes in the past were the Anti-Christ. But it IS interesting that Obama became president RIGHT when several predictions about the end of the world is starting to align. Pope Benedict? 2012? Book of Revelations about the second coming of christ? Global warming? IT ALL MAKES SENSE GODDAMNIT. It'd be pretty ironic if we voted for the anti-christ; it'd all be our fault.

So, Obama ... or... anti-christ, or whoever you are, please don't make false hopes about bringing about hope, change, peace and in the end, you really are just the devil in disguise. That would really bum me out, man. So... please don't be the anti-christ. I voted for you, for chrissakes (pun) so don't fuck around with me, anti-christ (Obama).

Anyway, as per usual my weekend consisted of me dicking around. I ended up being the chauffeur for the entire weekend. I didn't mind actually, my liver needs a break every now and then. Last night after the UW party, we went over to Ella's apartment and at 1:30 in the morning we decided to saw her box spring in half. They were all shitfaced, and even sober, I still wanted to do it. It made complete sense at the time. It was actually really cathartic. Bunch of crazy drunk girls and a crazy scrawny kid sawing a bed frame into a million of little pieces. Yeah, these are the people I associate myself with.

We awoke this morning with this straight shooting urgency to acquire Taco Bell. It began as a nostalgic memory of Mexican pizzas that formulated into a crazy epic quest to find a Taco Bell in Seattle. We researched and gunned it to the nearest one (past Safeco Field) and I ordered $15 worth of food. We hurridly grabbed the nearest chairs, sat down, stared at each other in an almost Harold & Kumar-esque happiness at being near the gates of heaven... and then we chowed the fuck down. Of course, tummy aches and mini heart attacks happened very shortly aftewards. I gave my last taco to a homeless man and called it a day.

Blogging about my life wears me out. I don't do anything interesting. I mostly sit around in the dark, wallowing in my self pity, getting drunk, and sometimes go out with friends and do stupid shit ... like driving past Safeco just to find the nearest Taco Bell. But even if the only big thing on my agenda today was to get Taco Bell - at least it makes me happy.

I'm going to attempt to write my paper. I'll probably just sit on my ass, eating my taco, watch some episodes of Always Sunny in Philadelphia, try and log on to WoW only to be disconnected - causing me to curse wildly, go smoke my last cigarette pack, tell Cherlaine she's an ass, complain to Aubrey about how much I hate my life, take a fatty nap, complain some more, tell Cherlaine she's an ass, talk smack about Koreans, not move from my bed for five more hours, and basically not end up doing my paper at all.

Hope life is fairing well for everybody.

Your Pal,
Carolyn K. Huynh


P.S. Please don't bring about the end of the world, causing destruction and havoc, Obama. I really like you, man.

Dear Ella

I hardly knew you last year at all. You were just Cherlaine's extraordinarily beautiful older sister. I was always intimidated by you - and it didn't help that you have a look-alike on SU campus; so I always said hi to the wrong person; thinking that you didn't like me at all because "you" kept giving me weird looks everytime I said hi to "you". Lo and behold, it wasn't even you! Confounded I was!

You took me in this summer when I was homeless and had nowhere to go. You, Cherlaine and Juliana housed me. That has meant the world to me. I was 900 miles away from home, I didn't know that many people in Seattle, flitting from one floor to another, and you guys gave me a home. I met Juliana maybe once, you, maybe a few times in passing, but the fact that you guys took in Cherlaine's crazy scrawny friend without even as much thinking about charging me rent or even questioning why I had nowhere to go - it reminds me that there are good people out there. You guys.

You have inspired me beyond belief. I have never met anyone so dedicated to art. Pisses the fuck out of me though when you try and take pictures of me - but it still inspires me. Because of you, I have picked up the pen again. I was observing you (non-creepily) and how everytime you pick up the camera or you see something that just HAS to be captured, your eyes light up and you get so excited. It made me realize "what the fuck am I doing with me life?". I used to be so passionate about things. The world, writing, love, friendships, free-spirits, uninhibition, music... I've felt so dead for the longest time. But you! As much as you make me want to smash your goddamn camera, I am proud to know you as a person, as an artist, and more importantly, as a friend.

Last night was the quintessential moment of when I fell absolutely in love with you. You stood up for me in the most absurd and in what can only be described as complete Ella fashion mode. A sleezy guy comes up to me, starts hitting on me, I become awkward as fuck and completely lose any sense of myself - and you start raising hell. You put your arms around me, held my hand and told him to back the fuck off. I don't have many friends in Seattle, but the people I do have, I keep very close to my heart. I thank you and toast you with a cigarette in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. Cause you, Ella, are fabulous (I know you hate that word, but I don't give a fuck cause you are). It usually disgusts me how you get hit on maybe about 3x a day and get discounts off cigarettes because they are just so stunned by your beauty. But it isn't just physical beauty, it's because you're such a goddamn good person that it exudes from your entire body.

Thanks for making me pick up the pen again, standing up for me against a guy that was probably 50x your weight, inspiring me, being a great artist, and for being a really good friend.



Your Pal,
Carolyn K. Huynh


P.S. Don't think because I love you so much now means you don't have to pay me for my camera. I want my money, bitch. Although, because I do love you a lot now, you can pay me whenever. That's as far as my generosity extends.

Dear Koreans

Let me give you a list of reasons why I am justified in hating your race and I have every right to do so.

1. My sister's first boyfriend was Korean. He was a dick. He was a generic "gangsta-DJ-breakdancer" from the hard streets of middle-class suburbia.
2. The Koreans on the ABC show "Lost" have no good storyline. They are useless. Get rid of them.
3. North Korea. Enough said. No explanation needed.
4. Kim Jong Ill. Enough said. No explanation needed.
5. Korea has the highest percentage (13%) of people who get plastic surgery in the world. They are ashamed of their Asian features and shouldn't even be included in the Asian race at all.
6. A good majority of them are "aggressive" meaning that they cluster together to wield knives and walk around like West Side Story ganging up on other Asians and forcing them into submission.
7. They are clique-y. They want to dominate the world. They are more bloodthirsty then Edward Cullen & Co. combined.
8. How dare they wanna learn ENglish!!! Them assholes are always sending their kids out of the country to go learn English somewhere else. (This is Aubrey's contribution to the list; not mine; she is speaking as a native Singaporean)
9. They put on too much makeup.
10. They like fast cars, monies, and Louis Vuitton bags. (wait... that's just Lisa Chang. KIDDING)
11. Pho > Kimchi. bitch.
12. They are blinded by material things. Seriously, look how small their eyes are - THEY JUST CAN'T SEE.
13. Their men are too consumed with muscle building.
14. Their women are either submissive or whores. Pick a side.
15. Everybody thinks I'm Korean. Since I've come up to Seattle, I've been asked if I was Korean about 100x.
16. They are too conservative.
18. The men treat their women like shit. The women are considered second to men.
19. They think they are better then everyone else.
20. They are Koreans.


Your pal,
Carolyn K. Huynh


P.S. I really am kidding - everyone just jokes about how much I hate Koreans so I figured I might as well give reasons. I'm no Hitler - so don't think I want to exterminate the Korean race. (maybe just a little - mostly the Koreans in southern California.)

Dear drunken world

hello world. iwam drunk as helll right now. i went to art walk. drank to muchw awine. wine? wine!!!!!!!!! i looked at ar t andrea realized that itw asn't as good as ellas!!!! she is so fucking goodo it amazes me how good seh is. i wihs i was a better artist. friend. writer . huamn being. i love writing shitfaced. why? e=the truth comes out. i spilled so much winen on cheraline. i spilled mty guts ou t to cheralien drunkas frunk. i loveher. i am happy for er. i adore cherlaien. i am druka s fucl. i am so drunk. I AM DSO RUNK. OMG I OG AM SO DRUNK.

i wsh i hope everythign is better. cROLYN drunk as hell. crolyn write how happy she is . carolyn write good cherlaine. and abhubrey. roommate of carolny. caroltyn carolyn drunk carolyn wine carolyn realize hw rapp her best firned and rooomate is. cherlaine. aurbey. happy. alex hlaugjig. histerically. carolyn drunk. as per usual. caorlyn hapy

carolyn's dad called. carolyn pretned she was sober to fool her father. cafolny laughing so hard right now. carolyn soooooooooo drunk ridic. art walk. pioneer squeeare. adrunk.d DRUKN CAROLYN HAPPY CAROLYN SPILLE IWNE WINE OVE CHERLAINE. CHAERLINE FWIEN. CHERLINE BEST FRIEND CHAROLYN CNA'T READ WHAT SHE WROTE. CAROLYN HGO GO SMOKE LAST CIAGERRATE. CAROLYN NARRATE ILIFE. CAROLYN NARRATE LIFE. FUCK YOU ASSHLOES

CHERLAINE LOVE CAROLYN AND HER DRUNKEN DEBAUCHERY.

Dear Carolyn

I see that you once again awoke this morning with crusty eyes, a pounding headache, mouth reeking of champagne and Pabst Blue Ribbon, and clutching your baby pillow with all your might. You disgust me. However, I congratulate you on Obama's win - I know how much that meant to you. Although, I see you have gone back on your word and did NOT show up to class again this morning for the 4th straight week. Do you have no shame? Did Obama's win not inspire you to get up and do good in the world? What the fuck happened? PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER FOR FUCK'S SAKE. Look at your sorry state. NO MAN WOULD WANT YOU NOW.

I would also like to comment that you have regained peace with Seattle - although there is still tension in the air over issues that are currently sans resolutions - you and Seattle have come together through nonpartisan means to live in peace together. For right now. It's very big of you. Until you bomb the space needle in a fury of outrage for still being single after 19 years. But you know, that's between you and Seattle.

I would like to apologize though, on behalf of California. For Ellen and Portia and for all your lesbian/gay friends that are currently drowning their sorrows with a guy named Jack Daniels and are slowly losing hope for their future back in your home state (and in Washington). I just wanted to tell you - don't lose faith. Obama's win was great for the country (and the world), but I am fairly confident that things will be different from now on; he won't let us down. California was a setback and I'm sorry you didn't get a chance to vote NO on Prop 8, but you got a chance to vote for Obama - baby steps, baby. Baby steps. Your friends deserve a chance to be happy, to be in love, and I know you'll fight long and hard by their sides until they get that equal footing as everybody else (as it should've been in the first place).

By the by, I thought it was hilarious that for someone in your sorry state of appearances - you are allowed to walk right into bars and order drinks. Just LOOK at you! You don't look anything at all like your fake i.d. picture! You look like you are twelve! And yet! And yet! You were able to order a Barack Attack and consume it in under 5 minutes. Then, oh, I laughed so hard when you walked right into Neumos and ordered a sour whiskey and watched the election briefly yesterday. The bouncer even called you out on your fake! He laughed, you laughed, he let you in, you got stinkin' pissed out of your mind and roared with the crowd whenever Obama appeared on screen and booed with the crowd whenever McCain appeared. Oh, it was so hilarious. Although, I am slightly concerned for your liver. I think you may be a little bit of an alcoholic. Just a little. And, you're kinda racist. You're a racist, alcoholic consuming little Asian girl. Who cannot hold their liquor.

But no! You didn't stop at the many bars you went to! You scurried home right away to break open some champagne with your gal pals, didn't cha? Then you went to see the play DRUNK as hell. You had absolutely no idea what the play was about, did you? You make me sad. Alas though, such good news rang in the air when you recieved a text message from your pal that confirmed Obama's win. SUCH JOY! You quickly scurried back to the apartment, passing people honking their horns, shouting, laughing, popped a bottle of champagne and toasted his win with the people you love the most. Then you got stinkin' drunk again. Oh, but this time it was so much better. You were drunk with your amazing friends. You guys thus proceeded to tallyho out into the world, get into the car, play Forever by Chris Brown on repeat, drive down Broadway - and because you were so pissed out of your mind, you stuck your head out the sunroof and screamed OBAMAAAA!!!!!!! and the people responded! Oh, I have never seen such joy! The peoples were laughin', dancin', singing', pissin' in the streets. The people were JOYOUS and they had come together for one night to celebrate the victory of not just one man, but for the victory of the citizens of Lady Liberty. Seattle truly was amazing last night. Admit it, you kinda love Seattle again, don't you? Yeah, I know you do.

Chin up, kid. Life ain't so bad, now is it? Last night proved it. I'll tell you why you're so happy. It's a little thing called hope. Don't let go of that feeling - it'll save your fucking ass one day.


Just do me a favor, will ya? Start going to classes. And for fuck's sake, clean yourself up and pull yourself together. You look like a homeless man.


Your pal,
Carolyn K. Huynh

Dear Lisa Chang

Hello, Lisa Chang.
I just wanted to preface this by saying that even though I'm not quite sure what you think of me sometimes; I know that deep down you really lo** me (I won't actually type out the emotion). Despite the eye rolls, the glares, the sarcastic comments thrown in my direction, the guffaws at my incapability at being able to make anything edible (i.e. almost burning the apartment down by trying to microwave bagel bites/ eating plastic and raw bacon because I was so hungry) - I know you think that even though I am a strange creature still stuck in the 90s - you find me absolutely delightful. I brighten up your world with my paranoia and drunkeness.

I am glad that you are my roommate. It makes things a lot easier to have you a few feet away. For some reason, my body is wired to be able to fine tune when you are cooking something - even if I am outside smoking or in my room in the dark watching anime - I can ALWAYS tell when you turn the stove on. This causes a chain reaction, making me get up quickly, put some pants on, and run out to the kitchen and awkwardly hover by your side until you sigh really loudly, turn around, and ask "would you like some?" - and I go, "what? I didn't know you were cooking, Lisa Chang, of course I would like some! Thank you very much for asking!"

Not only does your cooking keep me alive and slightly more healthy then usual, but you are just so damn clean. I have NEVER met anyone so obsessed with being clean. I have never met anyone that sprays perfume on their sheets before going to bed. Of course, being the goofball that I am, I take your perfume bottle and instead of spraying only two small sprays that allows a lovely smell to float and linger - I spray half the bottle - thus causing Aubrey Jackson, the person forced to live with me within the confines of our small little room - to start coughing wildly and unable to breathe properly.

I admire you, Lisa Chang. You actually get up in the morning. This baffles me. I haven't left the apartment in weeks - including going to classes and going to work. I will occasionally get up to smoke a cigarette (maybe); but you have trained yourself with your fucking alarm clock system that wakes everybody up in the house. As annoying as it is, we are all scared shitless to confront you about this obnoxious system. So, you may continue Lisa Chang, with your 5 different alarm clock system.

As my only Republican friend, I must say you certainly exude all the symptons of a gal from a Republican family in LA. Everyone in the house often jokes about your obsession with prescription pills and collecting magazines. Do you just hole yourself up in your room and pop pills and go through magazines while cutting pictures out? Even though you have stopped drinking and smoking - you have found other methods to escape the world. While it may not be as obnoxious as Aubrey and I's filthy drunkeness or Sarah's addiction to pot (yes, I used the word addiction because it is true) - it's still pretty damn funny.

I am often reminded of one of the very first things that you said to me in the beginning of our friendship: "I don't know why I like you." I constantly bring this up even though you hate it when I mention that line bcause it just rings with truth. We have nothing in common. You are fabulous. And I? I am merely a lowly peasant. Alas though! Opposites attract! You find me strange and entertaining and I find you an oddball of miscellaneous quirks that I just don't understand. For example, we just don't understand why you don't just walk outside in your lingerie all the time. The world needs to see you like everybody in the house does - in La Perla panties and bras. It's just such a waste on us. Instead of turning us on, you make us feel ashamed of our unhealthy habits and our inability to be as fabulous as you. I am reminded of the time when Cherlaine opened the bathroom door to find you in your bra and she cowers in fright! She screams! And she averts her eyes because she knows if she stares any longer at Aphrodite she'll crumble into dust!

But Lisa Chang, not only are you a pill-popping lingerie-wearing neat freak, but you also have balls. You actually went outside in your bathrobe (the fucking bathrobe!) and confronted the neighbors and told them to be quiet. Best sleep of my life. Sometimes I truly wish you were a man. You'd make an awesome guy - even in your bathrobe (the fucking bathrobe!).

Even though you hate sharing, I am reminded of the one night you allowed me to crawl into your bed and sleep with you. I shivered the entire night because everytime I tried to pull the blanket over me, you somehow shift positions and take the measly little corner I was able to nab away from me. As much as you despise sharing, I awoke that morning fully wrapped like an eskimo in your blanket. I have never felt so much love for you then at that moment. You knew I had shivered the entire night and was shoved against the wall - but alas! I awake to find myself fully covered in your blanket! Such an act of kindness from Lisa Chang is possible!

I was thus able to form an understanding about our relationship from that night:
I shall willingly suffer throughout an entire night in the cold just to be able to awake in your blanket. Because it smells so damn good.


Your pal,
Carolyn K. Huynh

Dear Childhood

Ella told me about this great website: http://www.seventytwowords.com/
It's basically a story in 72 words - and only 72 words. I've been obsessed with reading all the works that people have submitted. So, I decided to try it out instead of actually doing anything productive... like homework.

Carolyn quietly took her shame in small doses. Walked instead of ran, back into her room, changed into her pajamas, brushed her teeth without being told to, and crawled into bed. It would take her another eight years to realize that she didn’t have to be so lonely growing up. She could’ve been different. She could have been friends with her mother, who turned out, was just as lonely as she was.


Your pal,
Carolyn K. Huynh

Dear Universe

I realize that I have been really hard on you lately. I blame you for my sad little existence. Okay, maybe it hasn't been lately. Maybe it has been 19 years that I've shitted on you. But you started it first. Everybody knows you did!

Tomorrow is the deciding factor. Obama vs. McCain. As a journalism major, I've been terrible at following the election process. I admit it wholeheartedly. Yes, I read the NYtimes (it is my homepage), yes, I've watched a good chunk of the debates, I curiously YouTubed Tina Fey's impression of Sarah Palin, of course, thoroughly enjoyed it, had many discussions about the election in my journalism class, yes yes all that good stuff. However, I will also admit that everytime I get an email from Barack/Michelle Obama - I delete that shit. I have also hung up on every Obama supporter that has called me at the oddest times during the night to ask for money or ask for my support in voting for Obama. If it's 2 a.m. in the morning, I'm not really in a patriotic mood and gunho about Obama. Also, I apologize for my cursing. You must realize how late it is. You must also realize that I have always been a supporter of Obama. There were times where I wavered and wasn't quite sure about all his grandiose plans. I mean, where is he going to get all the funding/money? But for some odd reason, I have faith. I need change. I think the world needs change.

I've been selfish lately. I've been thinking mostly of myself. Where is my earthquake shattering moment? Me me me. I realize now that I am just one in the many that need change. I have neglected my duties as a citizen, as a student, and as a friend. America needs change. America needs Obama. I have been apathetic for a very long time. Uncaring, unresponsive, unrequited towards those that have reached out to me. I saw Obama speak in Seattle last year. Riveting. I have never felt more alive and more "American" as I did that day. It also felt pretty college. Oh, you know, the freshmen in college talking politics over cigarettes and coffee. It was also all bullshit. Talking about politics isn't going to get anywhere. It's called action. Taking initiative. Baby steps for me.

I realize now that tomorrow's decision is what should - no, what will make me stand up; make me get up in the morning, go out and do good. This isn't some crap New Year's resolution either where I say I'll quit smoking and not quit smoking - this is called "promise". If the junior Senator of Chicago can make it all the way to a showdown to be the leader of the free world - I need to start going to classes. It's called showing promise. It's called being a citizen, a student, and a friend. I have been slumming for far too long. I realize now that my earthquake is tomorrow. I am voting for Obama not because he's popular, charismatic, African-American - but because I realize that he is my earthquake. I have faith - and honestly, that's saying a lot for me.

I really don't care who you vote for. Why should I reprimand you for who you believe will help benefit this country more? In the end, we all want what's best. And I just so happen to believe in Obama. Although, I must say, the only Republican friend that I have is actually voting for Obama (cough Lisa Chang). When she told me she was voting for Obama- that was it. My vote for Obama was officially sealed. If you guys know Lisa - you KNOW she is the biggest Republican the world has ever met. (fast cars & monies rawr rawr)

I remember in the 90s when I was in the 2nd grade and we held "fake" elections and cast our ballots for either Clinton or Bob Dole. I remember voting for Clinton because Bob Dole looked scary and Clinton looked like a nice man. I realize now that appearances aren't everything. (Although Obama is vry vry seksi and Clinton was an excellent preseident. slutty. but good) I am very proud to be 19 and to be apart of the biggest presidential race ever. There are times when I talk about leaving America and renouncing citizenship - but I realize that I always run.


I think I should stop running.


I won't be drinking my sorrows away tomorrow night, instead, I shall be celebrating with good friends and a bottle of champagne. I am alive to see a young and intelligent man with a gameplan of changing the fate of this country become President of the United States tomorrow night. And I will be a proud citizen, student, and friend tomorrow.



Your pal,
Carolyn K. Huynh

Dear Christina

I was so excited to hear your voice for a mere 5 minutes last night. I apologize for calling you while you in bed with your man. I keep forgetting you have someone to love and hold at night now (even though you guys have been together for over a year now; I still secretly wish you were still single so you can be bitter with me. I'm kidding. Kinda.) I saw that you had commented on my blog at 1:49 am in the morning and in my haste I eagerly picked up the phone and dialed your number very quickly. Even though you were slightly irritated and tired, the tears almost came to my face when I heard that irritation creep into your voice. I miss that. I miss you slapping sense into me. Actually, I just miss you in general.

I am saddened that I won't be seeing you and Crystal this Thanksgiving. I would've loved to see your stupid face and Crystal's stupid face again. I am completely burnt out on Seattle. I've been up here for so long, I can't even remember home anymore. You guys were always home for me. California is just a place that houses the Hughes sisters and I wish I were back there again - just to see your stupid nasty-ass faces.

It has been a very long time since I've heard any news from you. I understand that you are very busy. You know, being fabulous and all in LA. With your fabulous friends and your fabulous city and all that shitz. But I really miss you. A lot. I have decided to take a "Carolyn" day and skip classes. I am currently sitting in the library, drinking Stumptown coffee, and dedicating this entry to you. I was just thinking of that time when you heartily skipped school with me and we flew in haste to San Francisco to see Conan O'Brien. Only you would do that with me. Only you understand my sad little obsession for the red-headed man. Even though we didn't get to see him, you waited in line with me for hours; and that has meant the world to me. Although, I am still kinda pissed that you didn't stop me from running into on-coming San Francisco traffic just to get a Conan hat. You just wanted a hat too - so you were willing to sacrifice me to recieve one. It's okay, I really wanted a hat too. And I'm still alive. So it all worked out in the end.

I am pretty sick of Seattle, not gonna lie. I have nothing going for me. I am a loser. I never finished that novel, you know. I know... I know.. you have always encouraged me to be a writer. You always believed in me. But, for right now, at this point in my life, I would rather play World of Warcraft and be the same old self-deprecating piece of shit like always. Never changing. I have always meant to dedicate my first book/novel/screenplay/whathaveyou to you. I even have the dedication all worked out:

To my friend, Christina (Minh Minh) Hughes - for teaching me how to put on make-up.

Like it? Before I met you, I was in an even worse slump then I am in now. You took me under your wing and showed me how to be a girl and clean myself up. Sadly, I have let myself go. I have no one to put makeup on in the morning. I look like complete shit on a daily basis. That's okay, I'm fine with that. It's not like I actually go anywhere. I still sit in the dark, staring at my computer screen for hours on end. I have grown disgustingly pale. Even paler then I was in California. But you know, I couldn't escape the sunshine there. There's simply nothing to escape here. I have been called malnourished by Lisa Chang and Albino by a homeless man. I hate Seattle.

I hope everything is going well for you back home. Give my love to Crystal. I hope you are still being charming, intelligent, and still retaining that gusto of yours. You know the gusto. "I want to change the world, I want to save the environment, I want to live in Africa and volunteer, I want to be fabulous for the rest of my life." I have always admired that in you. You make me want to be a better person. But, alas, I am still an ass and I've grown somewhat dick-ish. This city makes me want to punch babies and kick puppies.


I love you and miss you terribly.

Your pal,
Carolyn K. Huynh


P.S. You weren't wrong when you said that all the losers come to Seattle cause they never made it anywhere else. I'm here, ain't I?

Dear Jewish Boy

I can cite two incidences towards Jewish Boy that confirms true love. I have loved him since freshman year. I think he may be slightly mentally retarded though.


Incident #1:
September 29, 2003
Carolyn steps into the elevator and pushes the 6th floor button. She realizes that she isn’t alone in the elevator. She looks up and sees a scrawny, Jewish kid with huge curly afro-like hair, and Harry Potter-esque glasses.
She is immediately captivated.
Is this love at first sight? She asks herself.
He coughs.
I blink.
He coughs louder.
I blink twice.
Eventually, this cat and mouse game gets old, so she gets the courage to speak.
Hey, she says.
He nods his head.
Which floor do you live on?
I live in a realm unbeknownst to mankind, he says.

She falls even more in love. “Crazy Love” by Bob Dylan begins playing in the background.

I’m Carolyn. What’s your name?
He muses. Do you want my slave name or my real name?
I can feel a smile forming at the corners of my mouth. It was taking all the effort I had in my little body not to jump this kid and kiss him right then and there.
He answers the question for me. My name is *******.
What’s your real name? I ask.
It’s…*****.
I see.
Ding! Elevator opens.
I’ll see you later, he says.
Marry me, Carolyn thinks silently to herself as her hand is poised and ready to slap his ass.


Incident #2:
January 14, 2004

Carolyn walks into the cafeteria. She is so hungry she is willing to eat the shit that the school spews out. As she is waiting in line, ****** pops out of nowhere and her heart begins racing dramatically.
Hey.
Hey.
So, what are you up to tonight?
I shrug. Probably slaying some dragons.
He laughs. As if you can find any left in Seattle! I’ve slayed them all!
He walks off and Carolyn is left alone, shocked, standing in the pasta/salad line.
My heart hurts, she thinks to herself.





I realize now that love at first sight only works out when it’s reciprocated.


I still love you though, Jewish Boy. Keep on making me awkward every time we bump into each other on campus. I apologize in advance if I attack you. I am prone to do this every now and then.

Dear Cherlaine

You give me hope.

Your Pal,
Carolyn