It's been really hot this week, so I've been trying to make as few sudden movements as possible. This, combined with the recent acquisition of Mt. Jungkfud in my dorm, has thus created a considerable amount of jiggle in my step. However, I'm back on the prowl and, with the help of my diet site, will be carefully watching what I mindlessly shove down my mouth hole. Why do I have shoe rubber in my teeth?
Okay. Update. Thoughts. Irrelevance. Umm. First things first: my life. Because my daily excursions are jam-packed with wondrous tales and are not even remotely dull or mundane.
Class Schedule
Writing Seminar- Our Monsters, Ourselves
French Cinema
Shakespeare
Intro. to Ethics
Philosophy of Love and Human Sexuality
I guess you could say I dig all of my classes, except maybe French Cinema. It's a 3-hour course. So what if we're watching movies through most of it? But, gotta say, watching movies as homework is kind of cool. Last week a group of us got together and saw "La Femme Nikita." Brilliant movie. I mean, where else are you going to see a chick jump headfirst down a garbage shoot to narrowly escape a massive explosion of flames billowing behind her?
RIGHT?!
Fig. A: BAMF
And last weekend there was a "Wet 'n Wild" party on campus. I don't know which it was more of. The party started at 10pm, first off. And we were all outside. In bathing suits.
"Well that sounds lame. What on earth were you doing? Throwing water balloons?"
Allow me to paint (or, in this case, water color; how clever!) the scene for you. There was a huge inflatable enclosure, filled about knee high with water... or... I hope that was water. By the end of the night it wasn't. At the back of the inflatable enclosure was a massive tube, excreting an endless waterfall of foam bubbles. A few times during the evening I got lost in the foam, and it was scary because I didn't know how to get out. The young gentleman I was dancing with got me out the first time. My hero. Outside the foam enclosure, there was an inflatable "mechanical" bull, operated by guys pulling strings attached to the bull. I rode twice. It's really difficult. But so much fun! Makes you feel like a champ, because as long as you're a chick in a bathing suit riding a bull, it doesn't matter how long you stay on, and everyone will cheer for you. Hooray vagina!
[Photo not available]
I went with a group to a pre-game party with one of Whittier's societies (equivalent of a sorority). I don't plan on joining a society, but the Ionians were a good crowd and I met some friendly people. Nobody minded that I didn't drink, so I felt at ease. I don't know how other sororities would feel about that... or the Sachsens (the world's only co-ed society... I know, awesome).
We were not the only group of pre-gamers. The entire foam pit smelled like alcohol. And when you combine alcohol with teens/young adults, wet bodies, and hardly any clothes, you're practically hanging a "Get Raped Here" sign over the whole party. Yeah, toward the end it got gross. Just seeing what was going on in that foam pit and imagining what percentage of that water was bodily fluids (and how many types). It's the kind of thing you just... don't... think... about.
That's not to say the party wasn't fun. On the contrary. It was one of the funnest nights I've had in Whittier. Sorry if I'm setting myself up for a Dane Cook joke here, but it was fun to just completely shake off academics and dance. In a foam waterfall. And ride bulls. And dance some mo'.
After the "Wet n' Wild" event ended, I went with a couple Ionian friends to a party across the street. The Water Polo House... I feel like such a traitor! It was surprisingly fun, though. Aside from one guy who wouldn't take his hands off me, and another guy who kept trying to make out with me, and a third guy who kept trying to make me "bend over" when I was dancing with him. Oh, alcohol. BUT! Yeah, it was a lot of fun. More betrayal: a hot water polo guy kept wanting to dance with me, and I obliged. When I left, he begged me not to go, so I gave him a peck and left. Cinderella plot. Only in bathing suits. I do not have this guy's number, nor he mine, and this is probably for the best, since he was probably scoping me out through beer goggles.
--3 hours later--
Hi! I just took a massive intermission between writing this blog. See, there's a Coffee House Night thing going on downstairs in the common room, so I thought I'd read some short stories. Note to self: pick shorter stories. Another note to self: give preface if stories involve vivid illustrations of poop. Not my most successful reading, but that's bound to happen more than once in my lifetime.
Note: Free laundry day rules... if you can find an available machine. This dorm is three stories full of singles, doubles, triples and quadruples... and there are six washers/dryers. It gets cutthroat. If you don't move your stuff in time, people will move it for you. My biggest fear? That someone will handle my underwear. My underwear is very much my own personal affair, and I'll be damned if anyone but me (and approved guests) touches them.
Note: Free food makes you fat. Gotta watch out for that.
Note: Free t-shirts rule. No qualms.
Antsy
Antsy
Antsy
When midnight rolls around I turn into a gremlin and want to run around wreaking havoc and breaking airplanes. Except for the airplanes part.
I kind of miss Rocky Horror Picture Show. I haven't been in forever. I hear there's a fancy one in LA, but it's on a boat and costs like 20 bucks. I'm tempted, I really am. But I'm in college! I'm too grown up for things like that... the mature thing would be for me to get cross-faded on a Thursday night and stumble up and down the hallways like a bunch of dumbasses and turn off the hall lights for no reason and ask where my roomie is over and over and steal her skateboard while she isn't around despite me and two other girls telling him not to touch it.
Can you feel my stinging judgment, Stauffer floor 2? You should.
Well geez, I've only talked about myself in this post. Cool. Go about your internet.
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