stayin' inside, doing whatever the TV tells me to do

You know your life is over when you start pining over anime characters. I never really got into the whole anime scene until I innocently watched a Bleach episode two weeks ago - and I never recovered. I acknowledge that I have an addictive personality. I KNOW I do. This was proven last night when I stayed up till 4:30 a.m. watching about 25 episodes of Bleach. I pine for the archer guy. He's so hot. I want him to shoot an arrow at me. Then grab me and start passionately ... FUCK JESUS CHRIST. I see the words that I am typing and I have never felt so ashamed.

On another note, world of warcraft is really starting to get on my nerves. I've died maybe about 22 times now. I can't level up. I hate myself. It's so easy, I understand the objective of the game, I know what I need to do, but my brain is missing this piece of my brain that contains logic. I've never had an ounce of logic inside of me - which explains why I easily snap and do stupid shit. Actually, I can't blame that on not me being logical, I'm just a stupid person in general.

Today is a beautiful day. Too beautiful. Too sunny. I am suspicious of the universe. It's just too much "happiness" for me. Which explains why I am inside in the dark, watching anime, continuously dying in WoW, in my pajamas and furiously chewing on a piece of gum to prevent me from smoking another cigarette. I want to say I hate my life - but that line has become too repetitive, too overused, too overdone. I say it the minute I wake up till the minute I go to bed. It's cyclical.
I went to Central today. First time in weeks. Aubrey had to wake me up, she slightly raised her voice at me, told me to get up and go to class. I groan, grunt, complain, tell her she's a whore, get up, put on the same old dirty pair of jeans as always, scowl etched on my face, walk the 4 blocks to central, walk up the 3 flights of stairs... and BAM class cancelled. FUCK YOU UNIVERSE FUCK YOU.

Reason number 3 why the universe is dicking me around today: I go grab some coffee at Stumptown. Fo Free. Coffee Cards FTW. I light up a cigarette, walk over to the library to meet my psych group. Wait inside for 20 minutes only to realize that nobody is coming. I become confuzzled. I walk outside and pace around. Abdul comes around the corner, talking on his phone. I say, "HEY, where is everyone?" He stumbles, turns around, is confused at who this small little Asian girl is, and realizes that it is the same girl that is in his goddamn group. Comes over, apologizes and tells me that the meeting was canceled. Irritation reeks from my pores.
I ask, "why didn't anyone call me?"
"Oh... we didn't have your number."
"I... gave it to you guys...."
"I guess none of us programmed it."
For fuck's sake.

I then proceded to go to UW campus today with Aubrey and we walked around and got pakistani food. We sat around the fountain and Aubrey proclaimed she wanted to be a duck. I smoked a cigarette. It was a real eventful day. Sarcasm. No, it was actually nice. We talked about the future. It's just so murky to us right now. I don't really know what I want to do, but I suppose combine journalism/writing with traveling/non-profit. National Geographic? Conde Naste Travel? Tater? I just want to be able to pay the bills with my pen.

I am often questioning myself as a writer. Am I actually good at writing? I have accumulated a pile of unfinished manuscripts from freshman year of high school till now. Unfinished plots, characters with no depth, various protagonists of the Holden Caulfield-archetype just trying to make it in this world... etc etc. I need to find my niche. I guess I'm funny when I write, but do I really want to be a clown to the mass hordes of robots? Or do I want to go the political route and change the world? Current events? Fashion? Page 6 NY Times? The answer is no. No, I do not. To ALL OF THE ABOVE. I do think that I would do well working for The Stranger though. Why? Because I'm a liberal piece of shit that uses the word FUCK all the goddamn time. They would love me. I would use "fuck" to start off every single sentence - hell, I'll just throw it in when it doesn't even make sense. That's my kind of journalism right there. Fuck.


Oh whatever. I'll say it one last time:
I hate my life.

I am going to go watch another episode of Bleach and die in WoW. Hope you guys are doing something productive/fun in the sunshine - cause lord knows I won't be.

most of the time I'm clear focused all around...

World of Warcraft has begun - along with my slow withdrawal from the world. Nerdy Cash Register Man was eyeing me with hungry eyes when I bought the game yesterday. I knew exactly what he was thinking too. "WOMAN!!" dosen't matter how unattractive you are, as long as you have a vagina - you are a goddess in their world. ...I kinda dig it. I will worship you as well, Nerdy Cash Register Man.

I don't exactly remember the second half of last night. All I remember is a bottle of tequila and many many "half" shots. I do however, remember asking Cherlaine when I woke up this morning, if I took off my pants. And she said, "Yes, Yes you did Carolyn. Along with Aubrey. You guys both went crazy and sat in the fountain at Volcano park. Pants-less". I look up at her from my bed, barely able to raise my head from the weight of the hangover that loomed over me, my eyes smeared with black eye-liner, crusts around the edges, my breath reaking of tequila and morning breath, and I barely raise my head off my pillow as I muster up all the energy I have inside of me as I say, "hell yes!"


You know, I don't have much in this world, but when a good friend turns and looks at you - moments before you both know you're about to do something absolutely stupid, and they give you a handshake and say "I will always take my pants off with you, Carolyn" - darlings, that's pure love. Second time I've taken my pants off with Aubrey and the other time was in a different country.


Anyway, I'm currently in the library with my pysch 120 group. We were supposed to meet at 10:00 am but I overslept and showed up at 11:00. They were nice enough about it. They're all guys - so they have to be nice to the only girl. They're making me be the quiet little Asian girl - doing all the grunt work and talking while I just press the powerpoint button. I don't really give a shit either way, but they are also making skits to present in front of the class and they asked me to be the wife to the Arabian kid. I thought I would choose this moment to interject and use my humor as a defense mechanism.

Guy #1: Can you be Abdul's wife in this skit?
Hornygirl59: Okay, but he has to hold my hand.
Guy #2: Okay... you guys can do whatever you want.
Hornygirl59: And when Abdul "introduces" me, he has to say "this is my beautiful wife, isn't she gorgeous?" and EVERYONE in the skit has to agree.
Guy #2: Okay.... I suppose.... we can put that in...
Hornygirl59: Okay. Good. Now that all my demands have been met, I whole-heartedly agree to be your slut quiet Asian wife.

This is the point where all three guys stop and stare and they don't know if I'm kidding or not.


I am about to peace cause I'm about to go to the corn maze. CORNROWS OF WASHINGTON FTW