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Tag? [Jul. 6th, 2005|10:31 am]
So lemeritage tagged me!

Some of my favorite things

1. Favorite scent: ocean breeze

2. Favorite way to relax: dozing during a rainstorm

3. Favorite movie you own: Shaft

4. Favorite movie you don't already own: Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels

5. Favorite male movie star: Right now, Christian Bale. Super talented hotness :)

6. Favorite female movie star: Angelina Jolie

7. Favorite book genre: depends

8. Favorite clothing store: Banana Republic, does Zappos count?

9. Favorite non-clothing store: CVS, haha

10. Favorite cartoon character: the Catbus from My Neighbor Totoro

11. Favorite CD you own: History Part 2: 93-96 The Rough And The Smooth

12. Favorite CD you don't already own: Junglized

13. Pass the torch to some of your LJ friends! Lemeritage already did :)

wants to try
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Rules for Shopping at Costco [Apr. 14th, 2005|03:05 pm]
(Pulled off of Craigslist)

1. After you show your card to the front door babe who is too busy to notice because she is flapping her mouth off to another lazy employee about what went on at the club last night, keep your ass moving. Do not stop at the big gigantic stainless steel tool chest (which is useless) or the 900 inch TV. You can't afford that either. You're in the way of people like me who gots to get to the meat section cause I gots a killer BBQ to do tomorrow.

2. CostCo was not conceived, financed and built just for you and your slow ass family. When you show up you do not automatically own the place. There's nothing worse than having an urgent need to get in and out of the damn store and I'm stuck behind your big fat flat ass, your pussy whipped dumb ass drooling husband, your 97 year old grandmother, your stuck up teenage daughter and the little 6 year old "accident" you proudly call Amy who cant keep her spoiled hyperactive ass out of the way of everyone's shopping carts. Maybe she'll learn when I run her little L.L. Bean ass over with a flat cart with a 500lb gun safe on it. Another little shit raised on Dr. Spock books.

3. There's ALWAYS too many people in Costco. Most of them seem to think this is the greatest thing to come along since the whites moved out of South Central L.A. in '65. Please leave the entire family outside and give them enough money to gorge themselves on cheap pizza and hot dogs. Otherwise, keep them the hell out of my way.

4. You look like shit in any of the new clothes there. Keep moving.

5. CostCo is not always a bargain. Neither was FedCo. You don't need to horde everthing for the Afterlife. Yes, some stuff is unique but there's a reason they don't put unit pricing on everything like they do in supermarkets. That way you can't compare. And since you can't compare, please stop worrying out aloud whether or not the salmon will go with the sourdough bread. I don't give a fuck. Put your shit in the basket and get the fuck out of my way.

6. You do realize that you have to buy a lot just to break even on you membership fee? Keep moving please.

7. If your stupid ass can't steer a shopping cart then just stay out of the fucking store.

8. If you stop to look at ONE of the 425 different Celine Dionne CD's and you leave your cart in the middle of the aisle AND you ignore everyone who need to pass then your ass needs to be dragged out behind the store and shot. At least you won't be in anyone's way anymore, especially mine.

9. We're finally in the dreaded checkout line and unfortunately you are in front of all of us and we hate you. You have enought food in two carts to feed all the starving children in South America and most of it is strange, off-the-wall expensive boutique shit no one else ever buys. Your Nextel rings and you decide, for whatever goddam reason, that you have to use the walkie-talkie feature so that everyone around can hear.

As if we all didn't know already, you are a person of privelege. You conversation is peppered with the words "checks", "accounts" and "dividends". We sigh. The rest of this conversation usually goes something like this, complete with Nextel and car keys on a soccer mom lanyard in the right hand while placing the boutique food on the belt wth the left hand:

"Yeah, we'll get the boat when we get there. Steve and Barbara have a place for us on their ranch. No, we'll probably go over to Florida after that. Why dont you all meet us there? What? Oh, sure, they just finished tiling the floor in the master guest room yesterday so by the time you get there everything should be fine. Yeah. No, the horses will be there by Thursday. Uh huh. Yeah, Tina will be coming in from Vermont on Wednesday and she'll bring the papers with her. I know, I can hardly wait...".

10. You know what? Fuck you, fuck Steve and Barbara, fuck Tina, fuck the guest house, fuck the boat, the motherfucking horses and fuck your wonderful life. Move the goddam baskets forward, bitch. I don't have all day for this bullshit.

11. Granny is dressed in all black, is obviously from some ancient far away civilization and is staring at everyone in the store like they have the plague. Next time, ask her what she wants at Costco and leave her old ass at home next to her alter and candles and shit. She's giving everyone the creeps. She's probably putting a hex on everyone. I thought I saw her sneak into her purse and throw some strange powder on some poor kid when he wasn't looking. I got out of her way. I already have enough damn problems.

12. For the love of Sister Mary Joseph, look at yourself in the mirror before you come to Costco. You can't get much worse than somone's 48 year old mom with a gigantic flat ass wearing pink capri spandex pant, toes that hang over the edge of sandals, huge 54DD hanging titties underneath a cheap tank top with no bra and a big ass pale peek-a-boo belly button with a tatto on it. Come on people, give us a goddam break please. I was gonna have a hot dog and pretzel after this. Shit.

13. SPEAK ENGLISH. I'd like to know what the hell all the excitement is over a large box of fruit roll-ups and why all twelve members of your family are having a cow over it in the middle of the aisle. Please put the damn box in your cart and dance around it at home. And get the hell out of my way, please.

14. Oops. I just ran over Amy's little L.L. Bean ass with the flat cart that has the 500lb gun safe on it, 20lbs of ribs, various spices, 5 gallons of ice cream, two watermelons and a box of chocolate covered rasins. Lil bitch was in my way. She'll feel better when she gets to Florida.
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LexisNexis [Apr. 12th, 2005|11:24 am]
[mood |annoyedannoyed]

This wasn't the blog I was going to post next, but it's worth noting...

Apparently, the LexisNexis breach was much larger than originally thought. About ten times worse. See the article:

This touched upon a topic from my records mgmt class. The US is very, very lax re: privacy issues because of the capitalist gains. In other words, my personal info is up for sale. According to my prof who is Irish-born, Europeans are very, very wary of something like WWII happening again, where the Nazis did x,y,z and they don't want a national ID type thing at all. So personal info is well protected. When they sign up for offers from companies, they have to opt in.

Notice that when you're filling out a profile or order form, you have to opt OUT of receiving offers? Yep.

So we have companies in the US that make money from collecting personal info and selling it to others, mostly without our explicit consent. Every purchase I make on my credit card, or using the discount card at the grocery store, or every rebate offer I sign up for, someone out there has a database with my habits, demographics, etc that they're selling. This is why I keep receiving newsletters and offers and catalogs that I didn't sign up for.

And what's profitable for some is profitable for others. So the breach at LexisNexis, the recent one at Berkeley, the other companies that have suffered breaches...I think it was called Choicepoint, I have no idea, but they were required to notify its California customers that their information may have been breached. When other state governors were like, wtf what about us, the company's like, well, YOUR state has no law requiring that we notify its customers. So can you imagine just how much of our personal information is being sold and stolen daily without our knowledge?

If you don't really care, fine. I honestly barely think about it day to day. Everything someone does in a society can be found out. But other societies have managed to keep what's private private instead of selling it to the highest bidder.
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Up-date [Apr. 12th, 2005|11:06 am]
[mood |indescribableindescribable]

I have a lot to blog today, but I'll start with a follow-up on a previous entry...

I was reading my old email last night when I re-read the one sent from my friend who'd spoke with her now boring ex. I'd missed that she was suppose to go by his work and pick up her stuff. I thought that it would be today, so I sent her an email sending good vibes re: the meeting.

Well, reading comprehension isn't my strong suit, because she responded saying the meeting took place LAST WEEK. And it wasn't good.

She goes to his work and he's nowhere in sight. Another worker asks if she's M, and then directs her to a box. Her ex had left a packed box with her name "SCRAWLED on the cover". Inside were her DVD player, her shirt a sock and 2 DVDs. She was really upset that there was no note or email saying that he wouldn't be there to see her.

So this past Sunday (I saw her on Saturday, and she looked fine to me...) she spent all morning crying, before heading to to Costco to get her Mom's photos. But there were pics of her birthday with her ex and on the last day they were together. So she breaks down in Costco. Yipe.

Now she's making an appt with psych services to help get over him, as well as throw herself into her work.

Now, I just feel freaking awful, and I guess it's good I never met the guy after all. But godfreakindamn I feel just sick. And not just for her, but for both of them, really. Even though, yeah, I'm suppose to be watching out for my girl, I really am...but breakups are hard. Unless he was a superb actor, I doubt he's taking it well. If so, he could've met her at his work, or at least left a note. I guess it's good that he at least packed a box and left it for her, I have no idea...

I haven't responded to her email yet, but I'm going to suggest that she just REALLY throw herself into her work and workout a hell of a lot more. Women tend to dwell on things, and talking to a shrink might slow her healing if she's focusing on getting over him and moving on. She doesn't need a breakdown of what went wrong, etc. right now. She has the rest of her life to do that. She needs to work through the grief and the loss (and graduate!!) first.

In any event (as this is my blog, and I'm suppose to relate this shit to me, hurr), my kneejerk reaction to all of this is to just fuck relationships, man. But that's only because I don't want to see my friend in pain, and because I can relate to that pain as well. But then I wonder why women (or at least the ones I know) get so devastated over breakups. Ok, no, that's not true, men get upset but they tend to work through it differently. Ok, so I wonder why do we get so goddamn depressed over other people. Women cry, men just look like a beaten dog. Some people move to the next, others throw themselves into their work.

Emotion isn't logical at ALL, but sometimes I think we haven't learned how to deal with it. I've seen grown people BEG for their lost loves to return to them. Or start stalking them, or whatever. Emotion, passion, whatever, seems to be the least regulated action today. It's not accepted to express these feelings, and when they get expressed, they tend to be in uncontrolled bursts and are met with pretty harsh reactions.

Take me, for instance. Since I'm such a fucking robot, I've become pretty righteous about my reactions towards certain situations. But when I do get riled up, it seems that people take me seriously when I am upset. Is it the best way? I don't know, I still think there are a lot of things I don't express that I need to. When something needs to be said, it's either in that EXACT moment, or when I've worked through the anger and resentment and sadness and can express it in a detached manner. So my reactions tend to be in the moment or on a very slow burn. Like, months, years old before I say "I didn't like when you did X, but I've worked through, so whatever." Despite my controlled reactions, I still feel I come across as being a hysterical woman. I dunno, issues maybe? But even when I had that early morning bathroom argument with those two dudes in the co-op, when I just fucking lost it when they started attacking me, I was still quite, quite articulate. I don't know whether to be proud or scared.

So what am I saying? I don't know. Events like these cause me to reflect on my own life. Which reminds me of the next blog I need to compose...
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The One [Apr. 4th, 2005|07:27 pm]
[mood |contemplativecontemplative]

A friend of mine broke up with her boyfriend last month. They'd been friends for a year and a half, dated for 9 months.

I called her last night to see if she was doing ok and to ask about her spring break. She told me it'd been 3 weeks since they'd last spoke, and she was really tempted to call him. I asked if she could hold out one more week.

Apparently she couldn't, since I got a mass email talking about how she called him. And judging by the timestamp, she called him right after we spoke. Ahem...

So she satisfied her curiosity on his doings for the past few weeks, and concluded that he was sooo boring and that she was glad to be rid of him.


I did the standard "You Go Girl!" thing and said that since she has such a sparkling personality, she deserved someone with the same. But, um, how are you around someone for more than 2 years and he's BORING? Doesn't that say more about you than him? And if I'd dumped someone and they called me, I'd try to be nice and give them an update, but not be too encouraging, you know? What did she expect?

I'm not really dogging her on the matter, I understand she's trying to make herself feel better about the whole thing. She did say that the phone call brought her a step closer towards getting over him, and that she feels she can walk down the street and say hello without getting upset. But she says now she knows he's not The One.

Uh, yeah...first off, I don't buy into The One drama. What if The One for me is a 98-yr old Buddhist monk in Nepal? The chances that I'll meet him before he dies is quite slim. I like the idea of having kindred spirits myself. And I think her ex is a kindred spirit, if not the one she may end up marrying.

Did she expect a ring by graduation? She was also worried about turning 40 in several years (I almost chimed in about me approaching 30, but she would've slapped me through the phone if she could've). I don't know, I wonder if she was more concerned about being with him, or getting married and having babies before menopause kicks in and she starts acting like my Mom...I'm ALWAYS freezing in that damn apartment b/c Mom has two fans on, the windows wide open, and she's fanning herself, God bless her. I joke that her hot flashes are from her eggs exploding in her womb...

But another thing that bugged me was that she was reading, you guessed it, He's Just Not That Into You. Oh my fucking God, this is The Rules of my generation. The best advice you can get is by going to Amazon and reading the bad reviews of that book. Best advice you'll ever get without spending $20 on that trash. That's what I do whenever I'm tempted to follow advice like that.

But I have to admit, it's freaking hard to not fall into that line of thinking! Where does it come from? I feel I'm reasonable 90% of the time, but other times I just want to shut my brain off before it spirals into this thought process. I wish I could do the same for my friend, but she'll have to learn and grow on her own.
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TeeVee [Apr. 1st, 2005|11:59 pm]
[mood |groggygroggy]

Started to read an article on education and the effects of TV on concentration, but then I got distracted...

I wish I was kidding...

One interesting point was that books help keep children focused, and that TV way back when did as well because it was presented in narrative form. But with the innumerable commercials and such, TV doesn't provide that book-like, er, atmosphere.

It definitely seems that my concentration had dropped considerable in the past several years. It's getting harder and harder to focus on my work. Of course now I freak the fuck out about it and it just makes things worse. I already know this lack of concentration permeates into other arenas. Like my new sport of mindfucking.

I probably should start limiting the amount of TV I watch, but also my internet usage. Browsing the web is great for those with ADD...I mean, I just jump from site to site to site, reading a thread, then jumping to another, etc. I can't even get work done on the computer anymore I'm so busy surfing. I've become incredibly unproductive as of late, as well as agitated and anxious overall. Wtf?

I seem to remember a Lasn book that mentioned the effects on popular culture and the rise of anxiety and other 1st World modern ailments. I just want to avoid getting sucked into staring at the boob tube and having unfulfilling, superficial relationships with the world around me. Getting really tired of working myself into a tizzy over every little damn thing.

Which brings me to the kitten issue. I just want a damn pet. As well as growing a garden. Oh man, I really wish I could grow some fresh veggies: tomatoes, peppers, at the house on Saluda.

In the meantime, it would help if I limit computer and TV time, and read more books. Return to what I liked and kept me sane as a child. And take it one day at a time, jeez...

Although those fucking street racers outside the window aren't helping either, aahhhh!!!
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Break Spring [Apr. 1st, 2005|08:16 am]
[mood |sleepysleepy]

I return to LA tomorrow, should plan on hitting In N Out at some point. Or I could go to one here, maybe?

I JUST found out that they have a Secret Menu. I've also learned that you can order their fries well done, which apparently makes them 10x better than normal. And since they don't get that many requests for well done fries, they give you more?!

After arriving in CA with the OMG BURGER JOINTZ mindset, I have to admit the novelty's worn off. But now I'm interested.


This spring break has been somewhat restful and uneventful. I'm getting anxious again, though. I just don't feel I can function properly when I'm mindfucking everything. Might be the estrogen factor again, because I've basically been around Mom for the past week and a half. But also the fact I'm around family, and it's getting harder to live with these people, ahhhh!!!!! You can only love family so much before you want to run out screaming.

Oh that reminds me of some essay I read which outlined the Greek words for love (rough translations from Wikipedia)-

eros- romantic/sexual love
philia- love between friends
agape- divine, unconditional love
storge- familial love

I know other culture have tens if not hundreds more terms for love. It's funny how my Western culture has smashed all of the nuances of this emotion into one all-purpose term. And it kind of sucks because I feel like if I were to say these terms to peeps outside of my family, I'd have to qualify it, lessening the impact.

Maybe I should just incorporate these terms into my own vocabulary. Or not, and just say love with the appropriate verbal and body cues. Well, anything short of licking the recipient's face should express philia and storge. And anything short of running you down with a car means I feel agape towards everyone.

Maybe I shouldn't use the terms if I don't even know what part of speech it is. Are these all nouns, or can they be verbs?


Clothes still getting cleaned, might as well write some more...

The whole familial conflict I alluded to previously once again brings up the conflict of living in LA or SF.

This is where my attempt to be practical raises its ugly head. I'm only practical when I'm unconscious about it. And I've had my doses of impracticality...why do you think I'm currently struggling in LA? I was just, oh, I've never lived in LA before. Just buy a ticket and go. The fuck?!

Despite my current hardships and drama and insanity, I don't regret deciding to move out west. But now I have a dilemma in deciding where to go when I graduate. I'm not particularly fond of LA. I really like the feel of SF, but my fucking Mom lives here. I'm kind of tired of moving cross-country, and there's no particular place I want to go next. The only thing that makes me excited at this point is owning a cat. Don't ask me why, I just know I want one. A cute little kitten of my own. I've never personally owned a pet, always had sharing duties with family members or the neighborhood. I just want to stay in one place long enough to raise and care for a pet.

And I can't have a kitten if I live with Mom since she's allergic. Which is maybe why I'm resisting moving in with her, despite the free rent and great location.

Maybe I should just stay in LA, find a place with some roomies, and do that. I'd deal with the traffic and smog and insanity and people not returning calls if I could come home to a mewing ball of fur that would rub my legs and scratch my furniture.

Because you know what? Being a grad student SUCKS so bad. I can't stand it anymore. It's just this insane animal, and I realize now I need to be more settled if I do this again. Because, fuck, I wouldn't rule out law school. But I don't want to move for it, and I want someone to come home to when I'm putting myself through that hell. Yeah, I have to be married, because I'm barely keeping up my social connections as a single person.

(Wow, I just keep typing...)

One thing that Mom pointed out to me was that I get really focused on my work while I'm in school. I thought that returning to school would give me all of this free time to travel and see LA and blah de blah. I do have big pocket of free time, but I'm either working or sleeping or just staring into space. I did the same thing in undergrad...I did work to a point, then just stopped and spent time to myself. It's great that I can actually focus on my work, but it's getting harder to actually focus on my WORK and do anything else. I had this whole plan of taking a trip once a month this year. Have I done that?! Nope.

And I'm not too keen on actually having to see friends. A phone call does it for me. Which sucks because now I have friends that seem to respond if I have something planned face-to-face, and I'm all, I just want to hang out, if not, let's just talk on the phone. I don't have to see you, just hear from you. I guess to make sure I'm keeping my connection somewhat stable so I can retreat to my brain again.

Ok, I'm really tired and I don't feel like I'm making anymore sense...
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Estrogen Overload [Mar. 8th, 2005|08:27 pm]
Had lunch with my very cool friend A. Known her for the past year, but only really started hanging out after my housewarming party.

We've concluded that due to being in what's essentially library school and being doused in extreme levels of estrogen have completely and utterly fucked up my patterns of behavior.

We both aren't girly girls and are more used to having guy friends than boyfriends. If a friend pisses us off, we just take a step back and chill, then resume the friendship like nothing's happened. Only rarely have I just ended a friendship, and that was just a strict cut-off over something absolutely ridiculous...although I find years later I'm talking to those people. No big deal...

But since I've been in school/LA/whateverthefuck, I've been GOING INSANE. I'm all concerned about my friends and being social, get upset if people don't return my calls, have threatened to end friendships, and cry a hell of a lot. I was seeing some campus shrink for a while, dredging up "issues" of all sorts. Moving to LA sans car will make anyone insane, but I was just paralyzed with doing anything and just ah, ah, ah!! Nevermind this is the girl that moved to DC with a suitcase and a few hundred bucks sans apt and job, and managed to live there for a year...I just became 12 years old again...and it's sad to think that I was more self-aware and sure of myself at 12 than now.

So after about a year and a half of just drama, A and I concluded that being around women has made us uber-emotional. If you have about 100 women with synchronized menstrual cycles, there's bound to be drama up the ass. And I've been spending more time in my dept for various reasons, and have been getting just more and more unsure and emotional...I thought it was just turning 25, but now...?

And while I love my gender, we kick ass, yadda yadda, there are just times I just get unnerved for no apparent reason. I mean, I still have women's intuition and it's saved my ass a billion of times, not talking about that. It's this going around in circles habit I've fine-tuned recently, and this whole "Let's talk" bullshit I never do. Usually when I need to say something, I say it. If I think I need to say something, 99.999% the time I don't need to. If I do have one of my rare outbursts, it's well-deserved and the people take notice of that. I don't want to start flying off the handle just whenever and losing that potent weapon in my arsenal. Instead of behaving like how I do, while just happening to be a woman, I started subconsciously behaving in whatever everyone is telling me to do. How does this happen? Where does it come from?

(Trust me, I'm know grad school in general makes people crazier and isolated and yadda yadda, but this just adds to the insanity...)

Eh, I don't want to feel like apologizing for my behavior, because then it's like I've been doing something wrong. And I periodically feel I need to assess my behavior and change it...which would also explain the whole "Let's talk and assess and solve" mindset. If I go out and try to fix and address every slight and action, I wouldn't talking to, oh, anyone anymore? Just need to take a break and come back if I feel like it. If not, oh well.

Speaking of break, I'll end this now before I continue to analyze and assess and...
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Haiku #1 [Mar. 8th, 2005|04:02 pm]
Bouncy bhangra beats
Fade Monday's irritation
To contemplation
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