sodom, san diego

I'm going to SUNGOD. I leave for CA May 13th and who knows when I'm coming back? Should be an epic road trip back and forth though. What about school you ask? Yeah, what about school. There are more important things in life. Like, self-discovery. Or, chugging beer for 19 hours straight while making Cherlaine drive. Kinda like what happened in Canada.

"Who reeks of alcohol?"
"That would be Carolyn."

so stoked to see Girl Talk, Iron & Wine and Xxxtina (my new nickname for Christina) and Thyvu esp. Home is home - no matter how hard you try to escape. I hope to return to Seattle a little bit more drunk and with a clearer mind about what I want. Maybe UCSD will reflect U of M's crazy drunken riots. YAAAH DRUNK COLLEGE KIDS LIKE TO SMASH THINGS AND BE LAWLESS. SPRINGTIME.

I'm also camping out at Sasquatch memorial day weekend. I have no ticket to the actual festival but I don't really care. LOTS OF DRUGS PLZ. I'm still crossing my fingers for a cheaper ticket on Craigslist or someone scalping them around the festival. but I don't really care either way - nothing can beat yester year's sasquatch journey. I just want to drink beer and take questionable substances.

My mother is pleased to see me soon though. I heard through the grapevine (and by grapevine I mean a phonecall from my sister) that she is preparing for my arrival and the arrival of my friends to come crash for a weekend. She assumed once I had left for college, she was never going to see me again. Lucky for her, I'm sick of Seattle and in desperate need of an escape. Obedient good asian daughter that I am. Joy Luck Club style.

I applied for a staff position for the 09-2010 Spectator year. Why am I doing this? Because I'm apparently a journalism major and that's what you do. I don't know why I'm doing it. I have no real reason. Except maybe boredom.

I may have to get rid of this blog soon though or at least make it private (how do you make it private?). I can't write about my drunken debauchery nights and have it come haunt me later on in life. NO BLACKMAIL PLZ. I'm bout readies to go out into the real world and do something called 'work'... prof. Jha warned us about our personal blogs. She basically said "get rid of them - you'll regret it later on in life".

I have no other real updates in my life - cept that Iron & Wine is playing a free in-store concert on Cap. Hill's Sonic Boom next Tuesday at 6. BE THERE cause I will!





Oh and P.S.

ALEX CASPER'S BIRTHDAY ON FRIDAY. There's going to be a goddamn riot at the Wayward House Friday night. IF YOU ARE READING THIS YOU, YOUR MOTHER AND YOUR SISTER ARE INVITED TO COME. Come have sex in the bathroom, snort peyote, do a pony-keg stand, hook up with random strangers, play guitar, make noise, start a fight, be young, let loose... or be a goddamn wallflower if you want to - DOESN'T MATTER. Contact one of us for details or just fucking show up.

BYOB is recommended though. we're not your fucking servants.



peace.

forgoe the parable

I am genuinely sad about how this (school) year has ended. I just don't know what went wrong. Do you? Do any of you? I don't regret anything. But I do regret how everything just went to shit and a lot of people were hurt in the end - including me.

I had my second panic attack of the year today in the elevator of Tiger Oak Publications. I had to get the hell out of there. I walked into that office building eager, naive, waiting to piece my life back together and I walked out more confused than ever. All I remember was walking into a room packed full of out of work journalists, kids straight out of college with their degrees still hot in their pockets and the picture was just... sad. There's no other word or synonym to describe it. It was just sad. There were 40 year old men in that room wanting to take on unpaid internships for Seattle Business Weekly because there's simply no other jobs out there right now.

I am scared for my future. I am scared that I am graduating a year early with a degree in a dying field. I am scared of being alone in this cruel world. I won't have the comfort of college anymore to protect me.




I'm going through all my old documents. Every single fucking thing I've ever written and saved. Every single fucking iChat conversation. I even have a document titled 'Text Messages' that I created to plug in every text that I thought was worthy enough to be saved. What went wrong? Never date writers, alcoholics, or artists... because you will get more than you bargained for. We are a miserable bunch. The key to any great relationship is the silent understanding that the other person will fight for you and that you will fight even more for them. You don't cut and run. This isn't a failed marriage. I don't believe in divorce. Nor do I believe that love fades. Love can't fade, it probably just was never there in the first place. And you were just fooling yourself and you made me believe the lie.

I have wasted a year and a half of my life loving some kid that didn't love me back a fraction of what I felt for him. I am angry. I am revolted at myself. He was right, you can't force someone to love you. Oh, but how hard I tried... I am mad that he strung me along though. I would be lucky to never see him again in my life. There is a mix feeling of disgust and deep sadness every time I stumble upon an old memory of us. Hopefully, ten years down the road, I can look back on this moment and laugh about how much time I spent mourning over some boy that couldn't care less. I am sixteen again and I didn't get asked to prom. It's that kinda feeling.


I bought a new dress today for my date on Friday night. I am putting on red lipstick and tying my hair up. Because guess what? I'm not sixteen. And this time, I got asked to dance.



go find another lover, to bring a.. to string along.

ugh

I am a complete goof. I word-vomited everywhere. I hate being awkward.



whatever. yann tierson & asobi seksu @ neumos tonight. $15 all ages on balcony 21+ gets the floor (guess which section I'm going to be at) pre-funk beforehand?

wish me luck at the internship fair this afternoon. here's to hoping Seattle Bride will take me in.

Top 3 All time most Memorable Breakups

"My desert island, all-time, top-five most memorable breakups, in chronological order, are as follows: Alison Ashmore; Penny Hardwick; Jackie Alden; Charlie Nicholson; and Sarah Kendrew. Those were the ones that really hurt. Can you see your name on that list, Laura? Maybe you'd sneak into the top ten. But there's just no room for you in the top five, sorry. Those places are reserved for the kind of humiliation and heartbreak you're just not capable of delivering."
-High Fidelity, Rob


Hey guess what, you just sneaked into the number one spot. Congratulations, you just gave me the kind of humiliation and heartbreak that deserves the title of #1. But that's okay. I had a good day today and last night was more than good. Hiatus is over - I am content (no sarcasm).

I look forward to this week and the future. I have figured out the living situations for next year and have renewed my interest in alcohol (in a purely non-alcoholic-help me-forget-my-misery kinda interest). We are getting a dog next year courtesy of Alex Casper. A goddamn corgi. I fucking love corgis.

These past few weeks have been unbearable. A loss of faith, dignity, about 15 pounds, backstabbing.. the whole Hollywood rom-com formula. But guess what? Everything works out in the end. You are immature and I will probably never forgive you. But here comes the part where I rise from the ashes, the climax of the movie where Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman is no longer a common whore and grows into a sophisticated lady, where Colin Firth tells Bridget Jones that he likes her "just the way she is" - I am an Ani DiFranco song, I am Carly Simon, I am Joni Mitchell. I became a woman Friday night. I have loved and I have loss. I experienced absolute cruelty when he looked coldly into my eyes and told me he didn't love me anymore. But for some reason, that's okay. I am a better person for experiencing this. Time heals all. And you took the time to call me up at 2 a.m. that night to tell me I was the most beautiful woman that he has ever seen and that he wanted to get lost in my eyes forever. Granted, you were drunk, but it gave me the one thing that I have lost these past few weeks - which is sick hope. A Saigon Deli sandwich kinda hope. That men won't give me food poisoning but will give me a great sandwich bursting with flavor. That men can be a decadent meal for only a measly two dollars.

Yesterday, beautiful Sarah David called me (hello my love in case you are reading this - which I think you eventually will) and it was so good to hear her voice. A comforting siren voice whom I have loved the minute I met her - who introduced me to mango lasses, who used to walk with me to the park to smoke cigarettes and complain about life... it was good. She's coming back and I can't wait to see her in the summer. See you in New Jersey :) and I hope you have a good birthday tomorrow.

I am a single woman again and goddamn, I forgot what a jungle it is out there. But when you held me Friday night and stroked my hair, you gave me the best advice I could be given at 19. "Just go out there and have fun." And I am. I have two dates this week with the two most random guys I have ever met. It's all for fun, right? At least I'll get free coffee out of it, and who knows maybe I'll get a second date from one of them, but for right now, I don't think I'm ready for anything more than a "coffee date". But goddamn, it feels good to be wanted. And no, I rarely go on dates, so having two guys ask me out this week was purely coincidental and obviously a thumbs up from the Karma Godzz. I'm just supposed to have fun


Even though no one really reads this or cares enough to be remotely interested in my sad life, I was touched when Cherlaine told me today that Amrit was sad that I wasn't blogging anymore because she enjoys reading my blog (hello, Amrit!). Men will come and go, but my first love will always be my gonzo style writing - and eventually with more future heartbreaks and earth-quake-shattering-assholery-moments my writing (I hope) can only become better with time. I am Hunter S. Thompson, I am Lester Bangs, I am some kid that doesn't know shit about life - and that is a-okay. Because today was a good day. I spent an hour playing with Alex's new dog in the dog park and I spent two hours in the sun and I ran into the first guy I had a crush on in college. Everything will be okay. I love dogs and you are still cute. The sun is out and I am watching High Fidelity and not moping. Aubrey is painting and Cherlaine is writing. Everything is right where it should be.



Sorry for the crazy rants, I haven't written in a long time and it's really all just an unedited mess. If you have kept up by now, congratulations - I love you tenfold more than you ever know for it because it shows that you care.

I've only really had three heart-shattering moments, so I should be damn lucky to meet and love more men in my life to even have a 'Top 5' all-time most memorable breakup list. I can't fucking wait.



-Carolyn K. Huynh


"Should I bolt every time I get that feeling in my gut when I meet someone new? Well, I've been listening to my gut since I was 14 years old, and frankly speaking, I've come to the conclusion that my guts have shit for brains. " -Rob Gordon


Peace, love, and thanks for everyone for being here for me these past few weeks.

Filler

Filler, it's all just filler. Monday is supposed to be the sunniest day evarr - 71 degrees. Reminds me of California.

I can think clearly now. I am in abject contentment. Everything makes sense now. I got my answer.

I am the Great Wall of China. I am an Olympic Gold. I am Tom Cruise in Risky Business - cause sometimes, you just gotta say "what the fuck, make your move!"

I did make my move. I swallowed my pride. However, I did not see this coming. You have fucked me over. You were supposed to be my friend. You can have whatever the fuck you were missing back. It's all yours. But you and I? I am appalled that you did this behind my back.

If there is one thing I value, it is human decency. You have committed a crime. How dare you. goddamnit. I have stuck with you through thick and thin. goddamn you.


I am going on hiatus for awhile. What I write in this blog isn't how I want to be reflected as - meaning, I don't want to be seen as complete bullshit. Consider this the last post for a long while.



You win. I admit defeat.

Dear Karma Godzz

Hey Karma,

I just wanted to remind you fucks that I am a fairly decent person. I keep to myself. I don't bother people. I care about the environment. I don't eat meat. I am loyal. I pick up after myself. I never get in anybody's way. Sure, sometimes I get a little hot-headed, but who doesn't?

Anyway, just wanted to remind you that you guys owe me one. So stop messing with my head. I just want to vociferate loudly off the rooftop. barbaric yawps and all.

1.) In my discombobulated state, I rush out the door this morning to run to my car to quickly grab my ciggies and gun it to my class. I find the Bayou Blue Yaris that I am accustomed to seeing George as - only to find to my dismay that there is something wrong with the lock. I spend an agonizing 5 minutes trying to get the door to open, run back to the house, try to wake up Cherlaine to help me open the car door, Cherlaine tells me to go away because she's sleeping and advises me to turn the key the other way. I tell her she is not being helpful and that I am in a very sensitive and fragile state of mind right now and for her to be an ass isn't helping matters. She answers by rolling over and putting the covers over her. I rush back to "George" only to find that it has a Fort Lewis sticker on it. I ask myself, when the hell did I go to Fort Lewis? SIMPLE. WRONG BAYOU BLUE YARIS.

2.) I nick myself shaving in the shower. In my entire life, I have never nicked myself - believe it or not, it's just something I don't do.

3.) I walk out the Wayward Home without my keys. Like the shaving incident (see #2), I have never left the door without keys in my entire life.





I do not understand.


Do a better job, Karma Godzz, I don't like these little random 'mishaps' that keep happening.

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


P.S. Party at the Wayward Home Friday night. Everybody and their Mother is coming. the superbowl of partezz. I'm kidding. It's just going to be Cherlaine and Aubrey watching me consume a 40oz and cry myself to sleep. Think of the scene from "Little Women" where Jo March cuts off all her hair to get money to help out her family and Beth walks in and hears Jo crying and Jo is bawling the same words over and over: "MY HAIR.... MY HAIR..." Yeah, basically that.

Euology

Here lays Carolyn K. Huynh. She was known for being irrational, spontaneous, apathetic, detached... and some might even say a crazy-bitch, but most of all, she was known for her sick quest of wanting nothing more than fierce love and being ballparks, galaxies, chocolates and plus more in return. As a young woman of 19 years old, she loved reading The Onion, playing Pet Society, consuming tofurky & hummus (sometimes together), putting hot sauce on everything - but most importantly, she was a skinny love. She often liked to pretend that she was an Aretha Franklin song, a sassy woman about town drinking cocktails left and right - but in the end, she let the world get to her and she turned into a trashy version of Carrie Bradshaw, nurturing a beer belly and trying not to scratch her bed bug bites. In the end, she lost all sense of who she was. Her patience wore thin. She eventually went into the bathroom one night to end it all, grabbed a pair of scissors and as she stared at her reflection in the mirror, she took note of her sad eyes and cut away the one thing that shielded her from the rest of the world. That night, Carolyn died a little bit inside as she stared at the trash can and saw 7 inches of what used to be her hair laying very still next to a used tampon.

Carolyn is survived by a group of wonderful girlfriends that she couldn't have made it through life without. In her final days, she was sorry she neglected a lot of them, but she was too selfish to realize her mistake. Her baby pillow and MacBook were there for her to comfort her in her last moments. If I recall, the last thing that Carolyn did in this cruel world was watch a video of a fat cat trying to get through the cat flap door. She left the world knowing that the cat eventually got through the door after a full minute, because well, it's fat. She was in a rather chipper mood when she left knowing that the cat finally made it, but first, she told Cherlaine she thought it was very funny.

Then she died.

AAHHHHH

goddamn and I say goddamn. WHAT DID I DO emergency trip to AVEDA ASAP.


I have lost my identity. I also hate being spontaneous sometimes.

regret regret a million times regret.





I pray for a miracle at the salon tomorrow. may the hair gods make me look good - or at least decent enough to be seen in public

itchy

As I hear the furious pounding of Aubrey's mattress pad against the front door and the laundry machine working miracles on our infested sheets as well as the vacuum sucking the life force out of the rotten bugs that have left their mark all over my body.... I can only surmise one thing out of this entire weekend:

we are filthy creatures.



g'bye couch - you have served us well for a great spring break... but now you must return to the pits of hell where you whence came from.

YOU SHALL NOT PASS!
YOU.... SHALL... NOT.... PASS!!
-Gandalf, the White Wizard
(as corrected by a little snot)

First Story

My first story as a hard-hitting journalist a la Edward R. Murrow style:




An alternative couple living in Seattle butt-heads for this intimate interview on their professions as a barista and a baristo. A modern day Romeo + Juliet tale of a pair of lovers that come from opposite sides of the tracks as one works for a chain coffee shop and the other works for an independent coffee shop.

Dear anyone that still reads this blog

Life's a trip.

A quick update on my not-so-interesting life:

-saw Women/Cataldo at Chop Suey and Lady Krishna at Piecora's
-my liver hurts
-discovering new bars on cap hill
-building up my journalism skills (thanks ella/ben for allowing me to interview you today- and thank you again for ashing on me)
-thanks justin/alex for buying a round of drinks tonight
-new quarter and I am busy and still very apathetic towards school
-saw amrit/amrit's boyfriend yesterday and it was lovely seeing her boootiful face again
-shotgunning rainier beer
-may be a bit of an alcoholic
-love love hong kong style chow mein from chinatown
-the wayward house is quiet tonight
-I am helping produce the short film 'Nasty Cinema' for SIFF for my digital production professor - come check it out when it opens for the festival!
-am still jobless
-working out the kinks and networking for the Gimli's (the bar). I have convinced the cooks at purple cafe to come work and invent the menu for us. huzzah!
-we'll always have cleveland. : )



Your pal,
Carolyn K. Huynh