I'm So Boring!

Haven't really had anything noteworthy to blog about other than random rants that I kind of gave up on ranting about.
Here are a few bullet points of the past few weeks:
- I hate the Kresge mailroom. Not just because of a giant mishap with a phone that was overnighted to me, but because of their incompetence in general. When an envelope says "Do not bend" you probably should not bend it. Add to that, the mailroom boss, let's call her Kia Parks Bitch, felt the need to address me about my incredible moment of hatred towards the mailroom. I'm Facebook friends with two of the girls who work in there, and I was very unhappy with the phone incident (broken phone, broken charger) so naturally, I vented on Facebook. One of the girls, probably the Jesus loving, trailer park living one, copied&pasted and emailed it to Kia Parks Bitch, like a little baby. I was in the Kresge advising office using their phone, trying to see if I could get a new phone, she told that I was disrespectful and hurtful because of the status I posted. The girls in the mailroom work very hard and they hardly get paid anything for it. And I hurt her feelings. Cry, cry, cry. The girls in the mailroom work very hard, my ass. This isn't even hard work. What is so difficult about sorting mail and sticking it in slots? What is so difficult about writing people's names on their packages, filling in package slips, then filling in a binder with package slip info? What is so difficult about not bending an envelope when it says "Do not bend"? Oh wait... NOTHING. And my roommate tells me they get paid $10 to be incompetent 'cause he applied for a job with the mailroom. Cry to me again?
- I have a new phone! LG EnV Touch. It's pretty cool. Still trying to get used to it.
- I am a dancing MACHINE! And it's great. The last three parties I've been to have been dance parties and they have all rocked my socks off. Also apparently my booty shaking, nonexistent Bhangra skills are to be envied by all. They also effectively clear a dance floor. EXCELLENT.
- I am a slacker. I hate school.

I think that's it.

WOW, You're REALLY Idiots

I just got back from my chemistry lab. I hate chem lab, I really, really do. Chemistry sucks. My lab partners used to suck, but not anymore because I switched. My TA is cool, but his English sucks. Chem lab sucks. Anyway, today sucked as well. It involved a lot of waiting, and a lot of waiting. The experiment was split into three parts, and partners paired up with other partners to split up the parts so people had to do less work.
There was only one group in the entire class doing the last part. It looked like they'd finished, so I went to ask them about their results. They told me that they didn't finish. I asked them why because they were at the tables away from the lab area. They told me that their spectrometer (a device used to measure %T at various wavelengths) did not work so they threw away all their results. They told me that their SPECTROMETER DID NOT WORK SO THEY THREW AWAY ALL OF THEIR SOLUTIONS. ONE spectrometer out of TEN in the class did not work; it happened to be theirs so they THREW AWAY ALL OF THEIR SOLUTIONS. Has the absurdity of this action sunk in yet?
What type of inept retards do you have to be to throw away your solutions because the machine that you happen to be using is not functioning? What type of incompetent idiots do you have to be to not have the thought cross your mind that maybe you could use one of the other ten million spectrometers in the class? What type of complete dumbasses are you to not have common fucking sense pass through your brain? What type of inconsiderate assholes are you to simply throw away solutions that could be put in a different spectrometer so that the entire class can have results?
SERIOUSLY, what the HELL. It's cool if everyone had results. Whatever, your loss. It's a little bit more cool if someone else had done your part and you decided that you are too stupid to use another spectrometer and will instead copy their results. But it's not cool because you made everyone wait, and you made someone else do the part of the experiment to compensate for your complete fucking retarded, incompetent minds.
How are you even in college if you can't think of using another machine? How are you in college if you something so incredibly simple does not pass your mind? When your car runs out of gas, do you junk it because it "doesn't work"? When your computer crashes, do you throw it away because it "doesn't work"? If you can't figure out a calculation, do you just stop because it "doesn't work"? If your cellphone battery dies, do you throw your cellphone away because it is "broken"? If your pencil runs out of lead, or the lead breaks, or the point is dull, do you toss it because it "doesn't work"? Why is it then okay for you to throw away a bunch of solutions because your spectrometer doesn't work?
You're fucking idiots. I hope you get hit by a bus.

A WTF Moment, in a Bad Way

Today, my friends (Indian Alex and Mexican Tim) and I went to the gym after our calculus class. We are a cool group of people filled with retardedness and weirdness. It rocks. We walked through the core of campus and popped out by the bookstore. As we neared our destination, this other Indian guy--let's call him Indian Douche--popped out of nowhere and greeted Alex because somehow all Indian people know each other. I was falling behind because I had been pulling my spandex down, spacing out, talking to people except not because nobody was listening, so I ran down a hill to catch up to them. I noticed Indian Douche, and not wanting to be rude, I said hi, and continued doing what I was doing.
A thought struck my mind: there was a party tonight and I wasn't sure if Mexican Tim was going with us. So I asked him. He inquired about whose party it was, and I told him that it was my friend's friend's 21st birthday party. He said he didn't want to go to a 21st birthday party. I was slightly bewildered. Why wouldn't anyone want to go? Copious amounts of (free) alcohol! So I stated that obvious fact like this: "But there will be copious amounts of alcohol!" Then from behind me, I heard Indian Douche say, "Wow, that's a big word for you."
Excuse me, but what the fuck. I flipped out because I do not appreciate being called stupid. And I definitely do not appreciate a complete stranger insulting my intelligence. In the five minutes (or less) that I have known him, there was no indication of my intelligence level whatsoever outside of the conversation that he was listening to, which was little. Maybe it would be okay if one of my friends had said, haha, big word for Paulina, but not really. That is beside the point. How can someone who doesn't even know me call me stupid? Does talking about going to a party equate to idiocy and stupidity? Because if that's true, then everyone must be goddamn retarded. I could understand why he said that if I was talking about going to a party, getting absolutely hammered, and trying to find a guy to fuck. I could understand why he said that if I used the word, "copious", in the wrong context. I could understand why he said that if I were participating in a really retarded conversation (I can't think of one right now but just imagine a conversation that you hear dumb bitches talk about and pretend I'm talking with someone about that). But nowhere in our less than five minutes of interaction did I even have a chance to prove my stupidity (or lack thereof) to warrant said comment.
I was really mad at my friends because they were laughing at his comment so I called them out on it. They tried to play it off like it was a big word in relation to my size/height. First of all, my size/height and diction have no correlation whatsoever. If your thought process connects big word to big person, you should probably jump off the nearest cliff or bridge. You're stupid. Second of all, do they really think I am that stupid? Okay, this is not the best judge of intelligence, but if you compare our grades and test scores, mine are better by a long shot. And I am not stupid, because why would they be friends with me if copious was such a huge word for my usual vocabulary? And third of all, do they REALLY think I am that stupid to not spot their fucking bullshit from goddamn Pluto? Like I said before, size and diction have no relevancy whatsoever, and if you think that I'm going to believe that pathetic excuse, you better think again or brace yourself for a kick in the nuts.
So Indian Douche, you're fucking stupid for trying to talk shit to/about me. I don't know you, and I really don't care to, but if five minutes of walking next to someone is enough to warrant the idiot title, I have to say, you're a goddamn idiot. PS - I don't know what your vocabulary consists of but "copious" is not that big of a word.

Get Owned, Bitch.

I touched a bit upon it a few entries ago. And by touched, I mean, I mentioned slightly. So anyway, here is a problem that has been going on for two~ years. Black Friday 2007, I got this rad Juicy necklace from Nordstrom. I kept it in its little box inside my cosmetics case. I didn't/don't wear much jewelry, so this little number never saw the light of day. Then many moons passed and it came time for me to go visit Brad for the first time in Washington. I was very excited and I wanted to bring my necklace along. I never wore it or anything, so it should have been where I left it. Amirite? More like wrong. I opened up my cosmetics case. The little box it came in was there. I opened the box. The necklace was missing. Wait, what? Yup. The necklace was missing.
See, now that makes no sense whatsoever. How can something go missing if it was never used and never touched? Gee, I wonder.
Naturally, I blamed my sister because when my things go missing that I haven't misplaced, she's stolen it. She flipped the hell out and started screaming and crying about how I always accuse her of taking my stuff. It's like the boy who cried wolf. He kept saying there was a wolf when there wasn't. So when there finally was a wolf, nobody believed him. Well, if she kept stealing my stuff, and I kept finding my things among hers... yeah.
So this issue has been ongoing since then. Every single time I've brought it up, my parents and most people I know have called me a liar. They told me that I was simply trying to start trouble.
Then pictures have popped up of her wearing it on Facebook. Gee, how did that happen. So I sent the pictures to my mom, and she said she didn't have any proof. Are pictures of her stealing it not PROOF enough? Then she accused me of trying to start trouble again.

(Faces of the innocent have been colored out to protect their privacy.)

So today I was digging around the room that I share with my sister, and what did I find? One of the Juicy jackets that I bought on eBay because the description said it was purple but when I opened the package, it was gray and my necklace! They were hidden in a box of my sister's junk, underneath a pile of old sweatshirts and jackets.



And just in case my description of how/why I bought the jacket isn't enough and I am still lying, here are pictures of me wearing it in Santa Cruz and in Washington.



So I win, you lose. I rise, you fall. (Hahaha, "Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen" reference.) Who's the liar now?

When Will People Learn

I don't get it. When are people going to learn that messing with my stuff is NOT the way to make it easy to live with me? In fact, when are people going to learn that messing with other people's stuff in general doesn't make it easy to live with anyone, unless they're fucking retards and are completely oblivious, or if they are hippies?
Seriously. I am not that hard to get along with unless you're offended by the the things that come out of my mouth. I keep to myself a lot. I like to be awkward, but only for shitz & gigglez. But going through my stuff, stealing, and throwing my things away is INSTANTLY going to make me want to rip your fucking brains out. And everyone I live/d with doesn't seem to fucking understand that. It's not that fucking hard. Don't touch my things and there will be no disasters of epic proportions.

Unneccessary Bullshit

Honestly, I'm so tired of the bullshit my fat roommate is pulling. She is annoying as all hell, and is completely passive-aggressive about everything. She is almost the sole reason as to why I hate fat people.
Last night, I sat here at this computer listening to her whine to John about how he didn't love her because he didn't want to sit in her bed with her while she wrote her essay. She announced to everyone walking by our room that she was lonely because her bed was empty and tried to convince other people to come sit with her. She started throwing her stuffed animals at him. Then when he tried to ask her about her essay, she announced that she was no longer going to talk to him. So he decided to ignore her. About thirty seconds later, she proceeded to pester him about what his essay was about until he finally got fed up with it and told her.
Why are you going to force him to sit in a bed with you when he doesn't want to and then throw a tantrum about it? What are you? Five? That's just ridiculous. If he's happy on the floor, leave him be. You both writing an essay, not playing House.
Today, I talked to John and I asked him how fond he was of Nicole. He said not very because of how childish she's being. When the Boiler Incident occurred (see previous post), Paul was sleeping. Nicole and Anya decided to go wake him up all up in giggles because they were like ZOMG the boiler is going to explode! Obviously it wasn't going to since the noise had been occurring on and off all night. He had an 8AM class and was very peeved at being woken up so early by two annoying, giggling idiots after being woken up by the boiler. He left for class and yelled at them, but came back about five minutes later since he forgot something. They started to tease him for being so angry, and he flipped a lid on them because they were being stupid. If they really thought the boiler was going to explode, they would not have been giggling. Interrupting his sleep was not a good idea. Nicole proceeded to yell at him about how he was being annoying and he needed to shut up, after SHE woke HIM up by being annoying.
Now, according to John, she's launched Operation Hate Paul, similar to one she did to me. She is trying to turn everyone against him by telling them that Paul is being mean. He didn't do anything to her other than get angry at her because she did something inconsiderate, and now she's trying to pull some petty, immature bullshit.
She also has Operation Hate Nolan, and Nolan is the nicest, most polite and respectful person in this apartment. He's the person who will take the door from you if you're holding it open from him. He's the type of person who if he senses he has done something wrong will apologize immediately. He always says please and thank you. He's that type of person. She constantly makes all these bitchy remarks to him. A few weeks ago, he said that something was probably not a good idea, and she freaked out at him and started to yell at him for being condescending. Also, she constantly accuses him of throwing banana peels in the garbage can even though she doesn't see him do it.
She annoys everyone in some manner. Last week, Jay was complaining about how she was being annoying, so he told her to shut it. She just replied, "Shut up, Jay. You love me" and began clinging to him.
Not to mention, she's just inconsiderate. Her stuff is everywhere in the room. Difficult to stumble around in the room at night everywhere because that's how everywhere it is. It's in a pile practically in front of the door. It's in a pile next to Lisa's desk, and on Lisa's dresser to the point where Lisa has to start kicking it around to get to her things. And Lisa doesn't even really live here anymore.
I don't know what else to say, but in case, somehow she's reading this... Let me tell you something. I'm not talking shit about you behind your back, because the next time you start acting like a little bitch, I will tell you to shut the fuck up and grow up. And all the above will be used as ammunition against you. So you might as well stop now.
Seriously? You're an adult. You can play polite with Nolan, Paul, and me. You don't have to waste your time doing dumb crap like this. I don't like you, but you don't see me flipping out at you randomly over stupid things. I just ignore you unless it is imperative that I can't. Why can't you do the same? It's not that difficult. Pretend I don't exist, and I will do just the same for you. I guarantee it.
I thought that in leaving high school, I'd be leaving this immature bullshit behind. Just goes to show how wrong I am. Places change, but people never do.

LOL/UNLOL

Tonight, I spent a good three hours tutoring someone with their math homework. That is the strangest thing I've ever done. I hate math. I suck at math. But apparently not enough, because I tutored someone in a subject I haven't legitimately taken since my junior year of high school. Strange.

Also, work really sucks. I absolutely HATE my managers. They all have sticks up their asses. One manager has a fucking skyscraper lodged up there. I am not even kidding. I get bitched at for various things that I should not have to get bitched at. Like wearing black pants and black shoes, which is what the dress code is, and about how I am not allowed to wear that anymore. I'm really going to go out and buy new pants and new shoes (specifically, "ones that you can polish") just for a shitty ass job that I work part-time for, right? Because I clearly have an unlimited amount of money which is why I work at your shitty store and deal with your bullshit and condescending bitch attitude even though your job is really no better than mine. Gotcha.

Good Things

I'm having a lot of mixed days lately, seems like something always has to happen to counter out the awesome things, so I'm going to start making random lists of goodness in my day. After I bitch about something else, or complain, of course.

I have tremendous anxiety being in, near, or around my apartment. When I sit here in this room, doing whatever I do, I'm anxious. When I hear the doors open and shut, I'm on my toes getting ready. Why? Every day, the minute I walk through the door, I get bitched at. Every single fucking day. And it's fucking retarded because I should not be scared to come "home". I should not want to cry, or vomit, or both when I think about "home". I should not have to walk in and out of my room looking at stupid signs on the door about me. I should not have to be on my defenses all the time when I am here. Seriously. Sometimes it seems like people in college are even more immature than people in high school. I thought I left all that shit behind, but I guess not. Dumb.

Anyway, good things about today:
1. My chem textbook came in the mail today! YAY! I know, this is a semi-nerdy thing to be happy about, but now I can do my chem homework! FYI - one of my quarter goals is to get an A, if that gives me less nerd points.
2. My chem section TA is pretty funny, and there is a GUY IN MY CLASS ON THE VOLLEYBALL TEAM. I must befriend him. Haha.
3. I understand chemistry. Well, at least so far.
4. I have a new friend named Alex Kumar. He went to Fremont High School and played middle for their team. Oh and did I mention he knows GRANT JASMIN? (LOL, Natalie.) Also he wants to get together and play volleyball with me sometime.
5. I managed to get the schedule I wanted after much stalking of the website and frustration and fiddling around with it. SCORE. The only bad thing is Wednesdays are crazy. I have chem at 8 in the morning, precalc at 11am, chem section at 12:30pm, precalc section at 3:30pm, and writing 2 at 7pm. YIKES. Hopefully I don't get too tired.

And that's it for now.

Golly Gee

Tonight, I went to the bathroom to urinate, brush my teeth and wash my face, and change my clothes, etc. I'm happily doing whatever I was doing when I heard stomping and screaming and banging on a door. It was not the bathroom door, so I ignored it.
I finished whatever I was doing, and went back to my room where a bitchy princess was sitting at her desk rolling something or whatever. She starts going off on me about how I locked the door again, blah blah blah. I told her I didn't lock the door because I went to the bathroom. There is no need to lock the door to this room when I am conscious and in the building. Not to mention I did not even have my keys on me, so I couldn't have locked the door.
The locking mechanism will not allow me to lock the door, exit the room, and close the door. I  need to have my keys on me to lock the door from the outside, OR I would have had to close the door with me inside, lock it, leave through the side door, and enter through the front door of the apartment with all of my things. She was out in the living room, and I did not come in that way.
Therefore, I could not have locked the door.
Also, I'm not an idiot. Why would I lock myself out?

The moral of the story is it is really annoying getting bitched at every day.

People are really fucking irrational, and I really want to get out of here.
But the only reason stopping me is somewhat attributed to money and somewhat selfish. This small triple that is bigger than most small triples is easy on my parents' wallets. Also, I have a lot of space in this triple. Bear brought a bunch of Sterilite drawers that she keeps all her things in freeing up another two drawers for me in addition to my four. I have an entire hanging closet space to myself, and the shelf above that for miscellaneous knickknacks like my fan that keeps the room cool during the summer/fall that everyone loves to use, and my suitcase. I also have a bookcase next to my bed that I keep random things on just to piss Princess off because I know she so desperately wants that space despite having a bookshelf of her own on top of her desk. In addition, I have all the space under my bed where I can toss every single item I own, in whichever manner I see fit, so that people don't trip over my belongings coming in and out of the room. That's why I'm still here.

More What the Fuck

Something I don't understand is why I always get bitched at for locking the door to my room. I mean, isn’t that a fairly standard thing to do on a college campus, whether or not you live in an apartment? Or even if you live somewhere with people you don’t really know?
This is the conversation that happened about thirty minutes ago, coupled with the conversation (#8) that occurred yesterday morning:

1. You always lock Nicole and me out.
Actually I’ve only done it twice. Half the time, I lock the door when you and Nicole are sleeping inside the room. Last night you had a key. That doesn’t constitute as getting locked out because you were able to unlock the door with your very own special key. Also, having a key on you wasn’t that difficult, was it? Don’t cry, little baby. Also, might I add that you've locked us out once too? *gasp!*

2. This is my room too.
Orly? Nowai! Me too! That’s why I lock the door to keep my things, and subsequently your things, safe!

3. Nobody’s going to steal your shit.
Then why do my Chewy bars always go missing, save for the last bar in the box? Gee, I wonder. (Answer: stoner roommates.)

4. Nobody in this apartment is going to steal your shit.
But you don’t know that! I lived in the same room with my sister for sixteen years. She’s stolen my shit before, and she still does! Not to mention, if they take someone’s things from in this apartment, aren’t they going to hide it and not make it obvious that they took it? Or perhaps sell it? I mean that’s just common sense. And what about the people who come in and out of the apartment that you or I don’t know? Are you really going to say that you trust the entire world with your ugly Fendi wallet lying on top of your desk with the door wide open? No, I didn’t think so.

5. I don’t like you locking the door.
I don’t like you not locking the door.

6. Why do you always do it?
Well, let’s see. One, I don’t want people taking my things. Two, I don’t want strangers coming in and out of the room like they did two nights ago.

7. I told them that it was okay to do that.
Thanks for consulting my sleeping self. It’s my room too! Do you think I’m comfortable with random guys going in and out of the room, much less sleeping near me? No.

8. You were hanging out with them.
No. I was talking to them, and sitting in the hallway with my friends. Just because I associated once with some people doesn’t mean I invite them to sleep with me and into my life, and my home and everything. Is that homeless person you might give money to your friend? Are you going to invite him to sleep in your bed because you feel bad for him? I mean you gave him money! That’s like letting him borrow money! Friends let friends borrow money, right? That’s right. He’s not your friend. And they’re not my friends either.

9. Well, you’re in the room all the time anyway.
Actually, no. Your attempt at being bitchy and snide is fairly pathetic. I go in and out through the side door so I can deal with you, your vagina boyfriend, and Bear as little as possible. Do you notice? No. Because you’re not in the room!

Does anyone else have this problem? Am I the only one who thinks it's okay to lock my door? I don't get it.

What the Fuck (and Volleyball Shenanigans)

Last night my apartmentmates threw a party with a bunch of random people, most of the people who were there were Anya's people (sister, fuckbuddy, fuckbuddy's sister/Anya's sister's friend, fuckbuddy & fuckbuddy's sister's exchange student, friend, etc.), and by the time I got back with two of my friends, our RA had broken up the party because of excessive noise. My friends left, and I was finishing up some things in my room and starting to wind down to get ready for bed, when one of them called me and said he was coming over. He came over with this guy I knew and hung out with me and Anya's people for a bit until I got really tired around 1AM and I couldn't stay up anymore. (I've been going to bed around eleven, give or take a few, every night for the past week.) I went to bed and tried to sleep with annoying earbuds on through the random bursts of noise. It didn't work too well because I was simply drifting in and out of sleep until someone came in at 2 in the morning. I poked my head over the top of my bed and saw a head of hair and heard a man voice that I didn't recognize, talking to someone (or some people in Elisa's bed).
It didn't make any sense to me because Eli had just gotten a single room so it wouldn't make any sense as to why they would sleep in a triple when they could have a room to themselves and do whatever they wanted, like make fuck and snore and such. I was fairly angry about not being able to sleep and being up past my bedtime so I climbed out of my bed and sat down at my computer contemplating about what I was gonna do. I poked my head into Elisa's bed (she put up a sheet on the side of her bed), and I thought I saw Eli sleeping there, so I got confused again. I looked a second time and I saw that it in fact was not Eli, nor was it Lisa, but it was just some random guy that I didn't know.
Naturally, I freaked out because what the HELL is this DUDE doing in a room that is supposed to be filled with three girls? Why is there some guy sleeping three feet or so away from me, and why is in here in the first place? Why did someone not tell me that they were going to put some random male in MY ROOM so that way I could say hell no, I don't know this fucker? I'm not a fucking hippie; I don't believe in the goodness of mankind. I don't trust people I don't know, and sometimes I can't even trust people that I do know. There is no way in hell that I'm okay with some guy I've never seen before until tonight sleeping in my fucking room. Not to mention I'm a GIRL, and a little Asian one, and up till some OTHER GUY came into my room and woke me up, I was SLEEPING. Does anyone see my dilemma? I don't understand how it's perfectly acceptable to leave a random guy in a room with a girl (possibly two) who doesn't know. I don't care how many people say this guy is okay, or whatever. I don't fucking know him, and I don't want him in here.
So I stormed out of my room and confronted Anya + fuckbuddy about Some Dude sleeping in there and they weren't happy but they got him out. And then I couldn't find my trash can until this morning by Lisa's bed, which is a different story, but I really hate people moving my stuff.
I texted Lisa about Some Dude sleeping in her bed, and then she came in about ten minutes later to grab my air freshener to spray the hallway with. I asked her if she knew that there was Some Dude sleeping in her bed, and she told me that it was chill and not to worry about it, which completely BEWILDERED ME. She put him there, or let someone put him there and didn't bother to check with me to see if I was OKAY WITH IT? At that point though, I think she thought he was still in there. And then she left to go to Eli's.
This morning, I came home from working out and was getting all my stuff together to go shower when Lisa confronted me about kicking Some Dude out of our room, and basically tried to guilt trip me into feeling bad about kicking him out. Also, she couldn't understand why I felt uncomfortable about the entire situation. But everyone I've talked to says that I'm perfectly sane.
So tell me, am I sane, or am I some bitch who kicked some dude out of my room? Because I'm pretty sure my actions were reasonable.

Anyway, on a non-What the Fuck note, I went to the UCSC men's volleyball game yesterday against Grand Canyon with my friends, Ian and Parker, and Parker's friend, Darcy. It was pretty fun. The teams weren't that great, however, SC completely destroyed Grand Canyon. Which means Grand Canyon is really bad. And they are really bad. They couldn't pass a ball, or pass easy floater & topspin serves during serve-receive. I'm pretty sure they shanked half the balls. They missed nearly all their serves. They got blocked repeatedly, and their backrow did not cover their hitters. They even let balls drop in between them! Also, one play, two players (the libero & a ds) just stared at each other while the ball dropped between them, and one of them frantically lollipopped it over into the SC opposite who slammed it down in their faces. Get owned, motherfuckers. But anyway, it was still fun. I want to play more volleyball!!!

Dumb

I officially hate schedules, scheduling and people who take my spot in the class (rather, the spot I really, really wanted, but due to scheduling conflicts and the inability to make a change, I couldn't get). :(

The Mail Thief Strikes

My friend, Joshua, sent me a letter from Santa Barbara some time during finals week, only he forgot to put a stamp on it so it got sent back to him. I told him to mail it to my house so I would get it back from vacation.
Today, I found the letter, ripped apart and open. I figured it was because it got messed up in the mail. I began to read his letter and I found out that there was a UCSB sticker and a pin in it for me. Someone STOLE them. Someone stole my awesome sticker and pin. I am sad.

I Hate This Place

I think the next series of pictures will explain why.

This is my apartment. Four of them are legitimate stoners. Six of them are inconsiderate. Three of them are nice. Excluding myself, of course, from all of the above.

This was my kitchen tonight. Yes, there are random chunks of food and sauce splattered everywhere? Why? I don't know. How can you live like that? I don't know how long those have been there since I don't use the kitchen very much. (I wonder why now.) Is it really difficult to pick or clean up whatever flies out of your pan? Do you really have to pick out what you do not want in your food and leave it on the stove? Can you not do your own dishes? Why do you think other people will clean up after you if you don't? (And the only reason I am goddamn doing it is because it's my "chore".) Most importantly, what type of goddamn idiot parents did you have that didn't spank you so you would know what cleaning up after yourselves meant? I swear, if I have kids, they are going to get their asses BEAT for being dumb shits. I don't give a fuck.
This is my new plan. I will relieve myself wherever I feel convenient. I will not clean up and adopt their mindset of "Oh, this will be cleaned up by Sunday at 10PM." Then we will all get along fine and dandy since we all have the same beliefs.
I hate people so fucking much.

Advice?

Okay, for those of you constant blogfollowers, you know that I have had roommate problems since the beginning of time, it seems. Now, it just seemingly gets worse. Let me describe them for you, by code names of course.

B, for Bear, is bear-like as the code name suggests. She is an artsy fartsy, holier-than-thou type like one that some of us have gotten to know all too well over the past two years. She lumbers around fairly ungracefully--perhaps some people have gotten my complaining texts/IMs about this. She often makes lots of noise in the morning after hibernation, especially when I'm trying to sleep: earthquake noises and rumbling my bed, makeup utensil clacking noises from covering her beary hideous face, smacking into things, etc. She also thinks I'm a complete idiot for some reason unbeknownst and therefore chooses to treat me as such. I know what you all are thinking, Paulina, you are an idiot. But I'm not really. Anyway, meet Bear.

P is Princess, except not the royal type with adoring fans. Princess as in PRINCESSY BITCH. For Princess, I need to talk about her in conjuction with V. V is VAGINA. I would use the word "pussy" but P has already been taken for Princess. Vagina will do. PV are likethis. Attachedatthehipomgwecannotliveadaywithouteachother (exact words from P's mouth after the omg). V is a constant attraction in P's bed because omgtheycannotliveadaywithouteachother despite the fact that guests cannot stay without everyone's consent in the room, meaning myself & B. Then guests cannot stay for more than three days. However, he's lived in this room since the second night here despite the fact that his apartment is a mere one hundred feet away from ours, if you use the back route. Why doesn't he live there, you ask? Simply put, he's a vagina and cannot deal with his OMGOMGSOTERRIBLEZ roommate. He also lives in a triple, but is chill with the non-terrible roomie. However, PV chose to lie to me about how terrible terrible roommate is, choosing to say that non-terrible roomie sleeps on the couch because he can't handle terrible roomie. I am semi-friends with non-terrible roomie, and I asked him myself if he really slept on the couch all the time. He told me he only slept on the couch because he tore something in his leg and couldn't climb up the bunk the first week or so. So that's PV.

The reason I hate PV so much is that P has moved him into our room. His clothes are hanging up, or tucked away in her drawers. His shoes are in the slidy out drawer under her bed. At one point in time, they even moved my things around to make room for his. Why am I so bothered by V being there? Because my room is my sacred space and sometimes you just need SPACE. And personally, I don't like having to hide while I change in MY ROOM that I AM PAYING FOR (well, technically my parents) because there is a vagina-like floppy penis in the area thus making it somewhat difficult to just pull my pants, shirt, underwear, socks, etc. off and change. Apparently, nobody understands that SPACE means SPACE. Not to mention we already live in a small triple (a double that the housing people added a bed to make more room for students to stay on campus), so we don't need a fourth person moved in.

And one more thing, I guess them sleeping together doesn't really do much for their sleep either since P always complains about me studying with oh noes a light on. If V is such a necessary addition to bettering her sleep, why not just stick her face in his hairy pit or concave chest and tada! no light. Problem solved.

Side note: I've also discussed the PV problem with P as well as our RA. Nothing has changed.

Anyway, this week's BPV (mostly B, because I dislike her most) problem began two nights ago. I was hanging out with my new friend, Thomas, and then went home around 1:30 in the morning. Activities are going full force with B, P, V, Nolan, Andrew and Jay in the living room. So I'm like excellent! Opportune moment to talk on the phone, so I do that because they're doing shit, my room is empty, and by the time they come in, it should not matter, right? WRONG. My conversation has been continuing for well over an hour, and by this time, I am quite cozy and comfortable in my bed with no desire to move when B comes in bumbling and letting her flagella-like rolls bounce on things and make noise. She also sleeps (slept?) with headphones in. I clearly recall a conversation I had with her at the beginning of the school year about whether or not I was too loud while homeworking it up like a true Asian/Monta Vista-n at all hours of the night and she said no, it did not matter because she has her music on. After about a few minutes of continuing with my lovely conversation, I hear "PAULINA! Get off the phone or go OUTSIDE." I'm laying there with a facial expression that looks like @_____@??? and the person I'm on the phone with figures out what's going on and gets angry because this is a reoccuring thing. He goes off on a rant about my roommates being inconsiderate bitches and walking all over me and treating me like crap, so why am I being nice to them if I am not extended the same courtesy. Then I hear, "GREAT, PAULINA. I can hear the other person talking, blahblah, I'm trying to SLEEP, get off the phone or go OUTSIDE." A few minutes later, I am somewhat frustrated and tired so I get off the phone.

The next day, yesterday, I thought about it, and it made no sense to me because if you want to sleep so badly, why are you going to bed at 2:30/3 in the morning? If you are so bothered by the slightest bit of noise, why not put your oh so useful headphones back in like you used to do and then we both have no problem? Why do I have to leave because I've been laying here doing my own thing for the past hour or so? Why do I have to be quiet at night, if you can't be quiet in the morning or whenever I am sleeping? So then I put my thinking into effect.

Last night I went to bed around 12:30 or so and of course, was conversing on the phone again in my dark room, laying in my comfortable bed. Then B comes in around 1:30 or 2 and lumbers around like her name suggests until she creaks and squeaks her way into the bed. Then thirty seconds later, I hear "HANG UP OR LEEEEAVE!!!" so I ignore it. I giggle and continue with my conversation. Five minutes later, "HANGGGG UPPPP OR LEEEEAAAAVEEEE!!!" (think in a style similar to Gandalf going "YOU SHALL NOT PASS!" except annoying, squeaky, and semi-female.). I ignore that also. Two and a half minutes later, I guess B sits up in her den and goes off at me. My thoughts are italicized during the process. "OMG PAULINA. You live with TWO OTHER PEOPLE. Actually, three. You forgot about Vagina. You should not have chosen a triple! Actually, I didn't choose a triple. I was assigned it. You are a horrible person to live with! So are you, fatass. *giggle uncontrollably drowning out some words about me leaving* Nobody will be sad to see you leave!" Of course, an outburst like that will only cause me to talk more, so I did, until PV came in and I decided to be semi-nice and leave. But first, I needed to urinate. I left my phone on top of my laptop, and then went to pee. Apparently as soon as I left, she bitched at PV about me, but heard the person I was conversing with laughing heartily on my phone since my phone is omgsoloud, and stopped. Or something. I don't know. I wasn't there.

It makes no sense to me as to why I should be the one to leave when someone is coming early in the morning/late at night when I've been in bed for the past hour or so, and s/he's been doing god knows what. And to yell at me while I'm on the phone is pretty inconsiderate and rude in itself.

You guys all know me. I'm not a really a mean person. I try to be polite, respectful, and considerate of others. I'm pretty crude and out there, but despite all that, I'd like to think I'm pretty nice. But when provoked, I am a very angry, spiteful, stubborn bitch. I have countless years of honing and crafting my angry, spiteful, stubborn bitch skills from living with my dad and my sister. And I strongly believe in giving respect, but only when I receive it in return and you do not affect my life drastically (like a teacher). I also take a lot of shit, but enough is enough. Once you reach that threshold, you can count on me to not be polite, respectful or considerate, especially if I don't receive that in return.

If you feel the need to yell at me for no reason, be rude to me, demand things of me, and verbally abuse me, you can bet that I will not be responsive. In fact, I will ignore you. And if you demand that I not ignore you, you can bet your ass that I will continue ignoring you.

Unlike some people, I am fully capable of understanding that things cannot be perfect when you live with other people. I don't expect us to get along, so I don't go out of my way to make sure that we do. If you try to tell me that I am socially inept, I will kick you in the vagina. If you try to ask me about whether or not I've lived with someone before, I will kick you in the vagina; I shared a room with my sister for 17 years. And that's how I know that you just have to deal with whatever people throw your way. I've kept her up at night talking on the phone, or texting. She's kept me up doing the same. I've woken her up while coming into the room late at night. She's woken me up while clanking around in the morning with her makeup and clothes and stuff.

What can you do? Nothing, so you ignore it and hope it goes away fast so you can continue with your life. Or you can try to find some sort of compromise, which I am not against. And unlike some people, I understand that you can't just expect someone to obey whatever you want them to do. It's a give and take situation from both parties because nobody is perfect. Because something you do is annoying and irritating to the other person, and vice versa. However, to demand that someone acquiesces to your request (ie. in my case, "HANG UP OR LEAVE!") gets you nowhere. Nothing is going to change because one person is happy and the other person isn't. Not a compromise.

Side note: I also understand that people will never understand, or even try to, if all they hear is "you this" or "you that". Which is what makes me not give a shit, since that is what B is doing. Thanks, Kathy, for bringing that up. I wasn't sure if I made that clear, but I guess I didn't.

In my case, there are several things that could have been done:
1. B puts in her earbuds, like she used to do, she sleeps, I can converse. Win-win situation.
2. She says I'll be more quiet in the morning & I will use the little light when you sleep, and I will kindly ask you to finish up your conversation within say, x minutes, or go elsewhere or notify you when I plan on going to bed so you can plan around it. I either finish my conversation within x minutes, I go elsewhere, or I try to end my conversation around whenever she's going to bed. Semi-win-win situation, but you don't have meaningless yelling and or ignoring. Nobody's feelings get hurts, and it works, instead of verbal abuse ("horrible to live with... nobody would be sad to see you leave") or acting like my mother ("don't ignore me when I'm talking to you" no joke, this happened)! And I don't keep talking/ignoring out of spite and sheer hatred.

Okay, I went off on a meaningless tangent, but what it comes down to is this:
Do I try to switch out of my room into a single or a double? This is what a part of me wants. Or do I stay just out of spite of what B said? Should I talk to my RA about it? Help! What would you do?

Procrastination

This has been the story of my life this weekend/week. Awesome!
Yesterday, I didn't bother going to class and I called in sick for work. :O It took me almost the entire day, and the night before to write a 4-page essay. Damn Facebook. Damn internet.
Tomorrow, I have an oral presentation on malaria and eradication efforts in my Aquatic Toxicology section. I haven't started yet and it's worth 20% of my grade! Yikes! Help!

On a side note, I fucking hate this place. All of my shit keeps getting moved around and/or goes missing. Example: my half full handle of Bacardi rum, that I KNOW was in the freezer when I left. Why? Because I bought Hot Pockets and put them in there next to my rum, and I was going to take it out before I left for Davis, and now it is gone. I checked to make sure I didn't have a massive brain fart and removed and flipped out for the wrong reason, but it turns out I did not. This is fucking low. All my stuff keeps getting taken or fucked with when I don't do it to anyone else. I hate everyone; I think I want to transfer.

Wow

How do people get into college? Much less graduate from MIDDLE SCHOOL. I wrote that way as a 5th grader, thanks.
Let me show you writing samples.

This sentence concludes a paragraph:
"There is one instance where Yunior has some sort of power of Magdalena during their anniversary trip; it has something to do with her body also."
This essay is entirely summary. At this point, you shouldn't even try passing it off as one. This essay has two of the same body paragraph, basically. This essay has no conclusion.

This is a paragraph written by one of my peers.
"Throughout the story Maxine is faced with the difficulty of the Chinese language and conforming to the American ways of speaking, acting, and learning. In the story her father says, 'Why is it I can hear Chinese from blocks away? Is it they talk loud?' Thus stating that there is obviously a difference between the Chinese language and American language or the way they converse because he doesn’t hear English like he hears Chinese. In this story, Maxine shows the Chinese gaining power through speaking to one another by raising their voice and speaking loudly over other people or things. She displays some resemblance through Americans in her quote, 'You can see the disgust on American faces looking at women like that.' Maxine shows how Americans don’t use their language as a power between one another. This is a power that Chinese lose when conforming to the American way of life. They must conform to the quietness that is said to be different between the languages leaving the Chinese feeling powerless. Because they feel they must conform in all aspects they lose so much power that they end up being quieter than Americans and are heard less leaving room to be harassed by other Americans."
Let me clarify a few things. The father encounters a bunch of Chinese people shouting at each other in conversation while standing next to each other. Clearly he'd be able to hear the Chinese louder than English.
Chinese people in the story don't gain power by speaking loudly to each other. They gain power through being able to speak at Chinese school, as opposed to being silent in American school. They don't really even gain power because of that; they go right back to conforming. Some power gain, right? The quote about the Americans' disgust is used out of context. Not to mention it makes no sense. The Americans are all WTF! about Chinese people speaking obnoxiously loud, but the quote is irrelevant. Then the author goes on to argue about how Americans don't use language as power. This is why there are so many people who verbally abuse others. No, of course their language is not why some pussy ass bitch got hurt. This is why you can tear people new assholes on internet chat forums. Of course, they are not using LANGUAGE. They're just sticking their fists through the monitor and uppercutting the idiot. This is why you write essays. You are definitely not trying to use your power to persuade others to see your point.

I digress. I am past the point of analyzing how terrible these all are; but being Monta Vista students & smart people, I'm sure you can see what the fuck is going on.
Seriously though, these people don't know what a THESIS is. They don't know how to conclude an essay. They don't know how to analyze. They can't even write a coherent and cohesive paragraph. They can't even quote correctly or effectively.
I hope they drop out and die. Fuck. This has been such a waste of my time.

Private

I had people snooping in on this so I made it private. Oh joy! I love my roommates so much (right now?).
This is for my friends to read, and I don't feel like having my privacy invaded by people who are not my friends trying to figure out what is going on. I need my space, and my own time to calm down before I try to attempt to solve this. Otherwise I will keep being my angry, bitchy self and shit won't be nice. Fuck.
I hate college.
Also I guess I am a bad person for spontaneous combustion-ly venting how I feel on something I do not really expect people other than my friends to read, right? Because that is definitely not something that I would be doing if I were at home with everyone. Or just with everyone in general. If I wish really hard, will the kind beings up above plop a handle of Jagermeister, my most favorite liquor ever, or perhaps even tequila, my second favorite, in front of me? I hope so because I need massive, massive, insane quantities of it right now.

Thievery

This morning I woke up to an URGENT: Kresge Security Alert email about people stealing other people's things out of apartments at Kresge and various other residence halls. And I quote, "It
appears that the thief (or thieves) gained entry through unsecured
windows or doors. In one report, the thief entered while students were
in another room within an apartment."
My roommates don't care to keep our door locked because they don't want to put forth the effort of getting their keys out. Do you see the conflict there?
I really like my stuff. Like I really like it. Even though it might not be worth a lot, or anything at all, but I really like it. I don't want my stuff stolen. I get bitched at for locking the door when I leave because "we know all the people in our apartment and we'd be able to tell if they had our things." Yeah, what about the people we DON'T KNOW in our apartment? Like friends or whatever. Last night, I went out of my room to a living room filled with noisy people that I've never seen before. What about them?
Call me paranoid, but I don't trust anyone. I don't trust people with my deep thoughts, emotions, so why would I trust people with all of my belongings? I can't even bring myself to tell people why I'm upset or whatever. I would love to keep my door unlocked and think that everyone is good and pure, that if I leave a hundred dollars sitting on top of my desk, it will still be there when I return. Unfortunately, society has progressed away from those days where it was somewhat okay to do that, and okay to leave your door open whether or not I was in the room/apartment.

In case you couldn't tell from the nature of the last two posts and this one, yes, I am having roommate issues.

I Try

really hard to be nice, but some things just don't cut it sometimes. I don't stand for that, so I will be an inconsiderate bitch when I feel like it, and when I want to be.
What are you going to do about it? Nothing. Because you are being inconsiderate bitches as well. Suck on that.