Carolyn's list of grievances:

-Gddamnit. I am so fucking congested.
-I hate my life.
-nyquil/leftover painkillers are definitely not helping me - progressively worse... although, am thinking the painkillers are really the ones at fault. perhaps will stop taking them. maybe.
-fuckin' ballz.
- internet suxorz. can't watch my tv shows at all. the hell am I supposed to do with all this free time? study??
-I haven't had a good night's rest in a vry long time. I keep waking up and having coughing fits.
-so much shit to study for. such shiet.
-apparently, Conan O'Brien is in town - fucking madrona to be exact. He's walked into Ella's coffeehouse several times already (his wife lives in Madrona). FUCK FUCK FUCK. That was ONE of my main reasons for coming up to Seattle for school, i hella knew his wife was from seattle. goddamnit. I'm leaving soon for california and I can barely lift my head from my pillow. I CANNOT BELIEVE I AM SO CLOSE TO THE DEMIGOD... and I won't even get to see him.. : (
-Pounding headache along with spurts of little nose bleeds. Small fever arising inside of me. A pile of dog shit looks better than I do right now.
-Can't concentrate. Am debating if I should just stake out in front of Arosa Cafe until Conan comes again. Ella, for fuck's sake, the next time he comes into Arosa PLEASE GIVE ME A CALL. I will show up, bloody nose, voice smeared with mucas, wild woman hair, germs physically visible on my pores... and i will still kiss him passionately and ask him to leave his wife, two kids, and dog for me. maybe not the dog, we'll just take the dog with us.
-I am physically exhausted. My immune system is terrible. Perhaps I shall take Edward's advice and keep eating those saigon deli sandwiches to build up my immune system?
-I am having a coughing fit while I am writing this blog.
-Getting a fatty haircut tomorrow. Am not quite sure how spontaneous I'll be in the moment - but the idea of regenerating the blonde seems quite appealing to me right now... no, maybe not the blonde. Took me fucking forever to get rid of it.
-Most of all, I just miss you.



See ya around, kid.


P.S. The National - Lucky You

disgusting.

My body feels heavy. I've slept since 2:30 a.m. this morning till 1:00 p.m. - got up, went to my 1:35 class, ran some errands.... stopped by Little Saigon for a Vietnamese sandwich... came home, watched a couple of episodes of Always Sunny and fell asleep with my mouth open. I've been awake for five hours and basically slept this entire day away. I am sick, coughing, clammy, and I cannot tell if I have food poisoning or not.

What was that thing we learned in psych class? cognitive behavior.... no, wait not cognitive, it was that other thing? where once you are exposed to something that harms you - you basically don't tend to do it again. I do believe this is my fourth case of food poisoning/sickness from the SAME FUCKING PLACE. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME???? I DO NOT UNDERSTAND. this isn't sick hope anymore, this is JUST STUPIDITY. I hate myself. I am absolutely filthy. Disgusting. ABSURD. I do not understand why anyone would take me as I am - I am a complete goof.


Goddamnit. Goddamnit all to hell. What a day.... Carolyn is pretty irritated. Mostly at herself, at her essay that wasn't even DUE TODAY, at her communications group presentation grade, at her terrible immune system, and basically, for being a complete all around idiot. I am a clown.

I'm going to remedy this. I'm going to retreat into the boonies otherwise known as Auburn, WA for the weekend. I'm going to get a fatty haircut on Monday. And I'm going to fuck my psych final so hard. But most of all - I AM NOT GOING TO BUY ANOTHER GODDAMN SANDWICH FROM SAIGON DELI.


I'll make all of you proud of me.




P.S. I have found the culprit. Cherlaine - you are the one that started this whole "sick" thing. I fucking shared that plate of noodles with you when you were still sick. VENDETTA!! Well, it could also be because Aubrey is sick... but I'm still going to blame you. I always do.

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.

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.