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| Fall quarter classes:
Math 32B
Programming in Computers 10A
Management 1A
Woo fun right.
I got Jamba Juice this morning.
The one on campus.
The not-mine one.
They made my drink completely wrong.
I watched the chick make a mistake at every station.
Every step. Every ingredient was wrong or in the wrong proportion.
And she casually chatted with the manager throughout.
Given I changed three of the four ingredients.
Orange dream machine.
No frozen yogurt, no orange sherbet, sub sorbet.
No orange juice, sub fresh orange juice.
Still though.
If I had done so thoroughly fucked up a drink at my Jamba Juice.
Lord Jesus.
I would have gotten my ass beat, verbally.
By all three of the ghetto-ass leads.
Today was my Life Science midterm.
I've never studied so much for a class, ever.
It's embarrassing.
Potentially.
If I fail.
| | |
| I haven't gotten up at 6 since high school.
Last night I got all excited because my dogs mistook me for my mom and slept in my bed.
And it was warm and cuddly and excellent, for a time.
But as it turns out, they are not so much a delight as I once thought.
Snoopy breathes like a fat hairy Italian with emphysema.
And intermittently licks herself with deep focus and a slow, unashamed passion.
Whimsy's behavior didn't get on my nerves, because she's the best.
Only I'm allergic to her.
My arms broke out in hives and my eyes got all red and puffy and irritated.
When I could stand them no longer, I got up and left.
And that happened to be 6am.
I'm at my Downey house because there's no class today.
They gave us the day off to study for our midterm tomorrow.
After lecture yesterday, I took the bus to Aviation Station and stole a train ride home.
I've stolen dozens of train rides.
I don't know why anyone would purchase a one-way ticket.
Peace at mind?
They never, ever check unless you're transferring to another train.
Fuck that shit.
I gave blood, though I thought I was anemic. Very anemic.
But my iron count was actually on the high end of normal.
13.4 I think. Where it once was floundering at 8.
My dad told me I had 1/3 the amount of red blood cells I needed.
Which is a stark contrast to the UCLA Blood and Platelet Center's theory, which is that I was loaded with the stuff.
Full to the brim.
There was another chick giving blood at the same time as me.
She was larger-framed, taller, and heftier than me.
I heard the nurse tell her that her blood flow was too weak.
And that if she couldn't fill the bag in fifteen minutes, the blood she did give would be useless.
Something about the proportion of preservatives.
And the nature of stagnant blood.
I guess.
A minute after they stuck my arm, they said
"You blood flow is excellent. You must be well-hydrated."
And I filled the bag in five minutes flat.
Me!
The other chick's blood was discarded.
I felt all proud of myself, and she looked all ashamed.
Even though you really can't earn or deserve either outcome.
The dynamics of blood seem pretty random.
Or influenced by so many factors that it's essentially random. | | |
| My Craigslist drugs hook-up got in a car crash.
En route to transaction.
Fuck his life.
But fuck mine also. | | |
| I didn't go to lecture today, because I'm really behind.
Even though I love lecture.
Also my professor has the same voice as the hippie teacher on Beavis and Butthead.
The Lesbian Seagull one.
It's the best.
Also this kid, who is 25, is crashing at my apartment.
He was kicked out or some shit.
So.
It's terrible.
He can't take a hint.
But then again I am female and therefore fickle.
So.
I swam for like ten minutes, two days ago.
It wasn't even swimming.
I just jellyfished in place.
All of my muscles are sore now though.
I'm rullllly out of shape.
| | |
| I hope they're not firing me.
I hope they're just changing my hours to weekends-only.
Because having a job makes my secluded, introverted lifestyle more plausible and acceptable.
Plus minimum wage is a lot better than nothing.
Plus I would miss the 50% team member discount care.
Because who doesn't want a $1.60 drink that makes your face cold and your saliva thick while providing 100% daily value of carbohydrates?
Plus being fired is embarrassing.
And why would they fire me?
I've only gone crazy and severely, unforgivably fucked up a couple times.
And those were during huge rushes, so.
Completely justifiable.
Not fire-worthy.
But I mean.
I don't really want to work anymore.
Ever again.
Look at this kid.
What is his ethnicity.
And what is his chin. | | |
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