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?

Oh, the Grind

I suppose it's time for a much needed update. In a way, I'm hoping that by not updating, everything will cease to end, but alas, it is not true. Things are back to the way they used to be, maybe even a little bit more deteriorated. Brad is home in Washington; I am here, trying not to be sad. And outside, the world moves on.

Thursday, February 12th
I rented a Zipcar, quite a nifty little thing, really. You pay a flat membership fee (for me, $35) and you have wheels at your pleasure, provided that they haven't been reserved. Depending on the car, the rates are $8+/hr and $65+/day. Also, they have a Toyota Matrix ($8/hr) and a Toyota Prius ($10/hr) right outside the intersection of Heller and McLaughlin where the bus stop is, just a stone's throw away from my apartment. Anyway, I rented a Zipcar and drove at 7 in the morning down Highway 1 & 17 to pick Brad up from the airport.
I love that first moment of seeing him standing there, then running into his arms, and the first kiss after beeing apart for months. It makes the endless distance and waiting so worth it.
We drove back and grabbed food at Kresge College's Owl's Nest Cafe, and then cuddled for a bit until I had to go to volleyball. He came with me to class and watched me play. It was his first time seeing me do anything volleyball related! Sadly, I didn't have a really good day/I didn't touch the ball very much because people suck. However, I did get some badass hits, a PANCAKE (omg, so gloriously beautiful. Also that was two pancakes in one week), a few digs, and some aces, which was kinda cool.

That's a pancake! Except mine was even more legit. It bounced off my palm perfectly.

Then we went back to my apartment, and took a nap. I woke up after about an hour and studied for my chem midterm the next day. We went to Tacos Moreno up at Crown/Merrill which has pretty awesome burritos and nachos and stuff. After that, I took him wandering down Merrill where we encountered some guy completely thizzed out of his mind who talked to us for about 30 minutes about metal. We, then, wandered over to Stevenson and met up with my friend, Thomas, for a little bit and hung out. Brad and I got tired and walked back to my apartment, and climbed into my bed and cuddled and watched "Rush Hour 3". It was cool.

Friday, February 13th
I woke up and took my chem midterm, headed over to the Porter/Kresge dining hall to grab a meal-to-go filled with breakfast shenanigans, and went back to my room where Brad was sleeping. Then we slept on and off, periodically getting woken up by my roommates coming in and out of the room, until about 1:30PM where we finally got out of be. We ate breakfast/lunch and listened to all the people going to Tahoe bicker, argue, bitch, and whine about going to Tahoe until they finally left. Then Brad and I went wandering around campus again and I dropped off my math homework at Jack Baskin Engineering. We hiked over around the library and stomped around the mud a bit till we got to the ARC. There is a huge meadow next to the ARC where we stomped around some more and filled in those little ground squirrel holes. It was fun!

I love torturing little animals. Kinda. Then we headed back to my apartment and dicked around for a bit before going downtown to see "Friday the Thirteenth".

It was cool. Really brutal, and gore-y-ish, and terror inducing. Also the soundtrack was composed by Steve Jablonsky who did "Transformers", but I will admit that I did not pay much attention to the background music. If anything, there were a lot of dark, and ominous tones. I'm not going to spoil the movie for anyone who hasn't seen it! Maybe I will blog about this later. I have to say, I enjoyed the original "Friday the Thirteenth" a lot more. Probably because it was ridiculously cheesy and silly. Post-movie, Brad and I went to Longs to stock up on alcohol (a HANDLE of Jagermeister<3, a handle of Svedka for Nolan and Jackson, and a fifth of Bailey's for Tim), milk and white-out. Then we went to Woodstock's for pizza! After much deliberation, we decided on the BBQ chicken over the all meat orgy. Now that I think about it, we probably should have gotten the all meat orgy, but the BBQ chicken was pretty excellent as well. Brad thinks Jake's BBQ chicken pizza is better than Woodstock's though. Oh well.

Saturday, February 14th
This was my first Valentine's Day actually with Brad. In fact, it was my first Valentine's Day with any boyfriend, for realsies! We woke up around 2PM, ate some clam chowder and went downtown to explore, and eventually back to eat for Valentine's Day dinner. We got caught up with a bunch of things, and ended up staying later than we'd thought, so we nixed the going back to campus to change and then go back downtown. We switched around some of our plans. We cleaned the kitchen because I'm pretty sure it has AIDS. And then, he made me dinner while I made awesome Reese's Peanut Butter Cup brownies! It was really cool :) We had pasta, and he made the sauce, not from a jar! Inside there were mushrooms, sausage and basil. It was yummy. I wish I had more, and I wish I took a picture! It was quite the odd Valentine's Day dinner. We were headbanging to Hate Eternal. Brad was drinking Widmer Hefeweizen and I was drinking Arbor Mist.

This picture doesn't quite do the metal justice. Namely because when you make the horns, YOU DO NOT STICK YOUR THUMB OUT. Anyway, I guess that if we ever get married and have kids or nieces and nephews or whatever, it'll be one of many stories we have to share. After the Hate Eternal, I decided that in light of Valentine's Day, it was time to listen to my arsenal of cheesy music! So we listened to our song (Carlos Santana's "Love of my Life", in case you were wondering), and we danced around the kitchen. Then I played "Can I Have This Dance" from "High School Musical 3" which I absolutely LOOOVE, and we danced the kitchen some more. Then we both decided that it was enough cheesy music, and we put on Bloodbath's "Nightmares Made Flesh" and stomped around the room. I love Bloodbath. I can't wait until they tour. Brad says they'll probably end up touring after Opeth is done touring, and I AM SO EXCITED. I am such a fangirl to the MAX. Yes.
After that, Brad helped me rearrange my desk and drawers so I have more space-ish. I like it a lot better because my back is to everyone who comes in the door, so I can just ignore everyone. Awesome.

Sunday, February 15
Brad and I woke up late and he made me breakfast! It was ballin'. Sausage and scrambled eggs. We did our laundry for like four hours since three of the six washing machines were broken, and some girl did like fifty loads of laundry. While we waited, we played some intense bad ping pong, and later, we went to the Kresge Rec Room and played some miserable pool; miserable meaning I lost badly to my boyfriend, the pool champion. We came back after finishing laundry to find out that Nicole and Jeremy came home from Tahoe a bit early. Jeremy had a midterm to study for and Nicole somehow hurt herself while sledding.

I googled sledding accident and that's what came up. Um. Yeah.

Then Brad and I dressed up sort of and went to dinner at Sabieng, AKA the best Thai food in Santa Cruz, but not as good as Layang Layang or Krungthai. Afterwards, we walked to Longs in the pouring rain to purchase one of those big Sterilite drawers for the top of my dresser so I can organize things more nicely. They were on sale for 25% off, but the BIGGEST ONES were on Last Chance for $10.50! SCORE!!! :) So we went back to my apartment with that and we gave it a bath because it was kind of dirty and put all my things in it. Then we drank with Paul, Nolan, Jackson, John and Jeremy. It was John's first time drinking too! Crazy! Also, I fucking love Jagermeister.

Yes, that is a Jagermeister E30 M3. Two fucking awesome things in one.

And that was pretty much the night + John puking and me puking after drinking Jager and a screwdriver and not smoking like a pussy and then falling asleep on the couch watching South Park. Also, I had this intense craving for bacon and Paul made some bacon before Brad and I went to bed and he gave me a piece because I made brownies and gave him pizza.

Monday, February 16
We woke up kind of late again and went to eat breakfast at 9/10 which goes until 3PM. BUT THERE WAS NO MORE BREAKFAST. It was semi-saddening. Instead, we resorted to eating the never changing food that 9/10 has: pizza, tacos/burritos/quesadillas, soups, salads, sandwiches, drinks, fruits and desserts. :( Gross. It started raining again, and we wandered around 9/10 for a bit and then headed back to my apartment. After that we went downtown and sort of wandered around some more. I found out that the Pacific Trading Co. sells the True Religion Stella skinny jeans that I want so I must stalk that place until they go on sale or something! After a while, it started getting dark, and cold and the stores closed, so we took the 16 back up to Bay/Mission so we could eat at the Greek place, Vasili's. When we got there it was CLOSED. Because for some reason, the store is CLOSED on Mondays. It was so lame. We ended up walking down Mission until it turned into Highway 1 again, to find food, but there was NONE. So we went to this restaurant that was semi-high end called HAWGS Seafood Bar. The food was pretty good, and we were both really hungry! AND I SATISFIED MY CREME BRULEE CRAVING. It was amazing. Then we went back to my apartment where everyone was back. Brad and I then watched "Gothika" which really isn't that scary anymore. I don't know why it used to scare me so much. But it's not that scary.
Also, Monday was our one year and nine month anniversary. COOL.

Tuesday, February 17
Originally we were going to wake up at 9 and go to breakfast, but that kind of didn't work out, and we ended up waking up at 11 so I could go to volleyball. Volleyball was kind of dumb, again. It made me sad. I wanted Brad to see me play well. We ate and we went back to my apartment and showered. I started to get really sad, and we climbed into my bed, locked the door, and cuddled. Then it gets awesome, except that's being really sarcastic.
Lisa tried to get in the room but she couldn't because it was locked. Then she said she was going to get her key, so she got her key and tried to unlock the door, but she couldn't? I don't understand how difficult it is to open a door with a key because it really isn't. Then she went back and got Eli and started screaming and swearing and flipping out. They both began banging on the door really annoyingly hoping to annoy us into opening the door, or something I guess when they had a key! Lisa started swearing at us and that made Brad mad because he was dealing with me being upset about him leaving so he called her a stupid bitch, and she flipped out even more and went crazy. Finally, he got fed up and opened the door and started yelling at them for not being able to open the door even though she had her key. Then she started screaming about him staying here and not being considerate or disrespectful or whatever and about how she lives here. Then he retorted with if she lived here then maybe she should carry a key on her because that is logical and the best solution. It was obvious that she got owned because then she started screaming about irrelevant shit, like being called a stupid bitch. She was shrieking about him not even knowing her and calling her a stupid bitch. And it was kind of like duh, he doesn't know you, but he knows enough from me and from encounters with her to deduct that she's a stupid bitch. It was GG x2 because then she resorted to screaming about him sitting on her bed. Not even kidding. She was like "Well, then get off my bed!". Eli and Jay got all up in Brad's face, and made him even more mad too. It was the stupidest and most pointless thing ever. But it was kind of funny because they were getting owned so hardcore. Brad was like "Sorry, I have more important things to deal with than you not being able to manipulate a key properly." And looking for an excuse to escape, Eli was like ZOMG, he said sorry, let's go Lisa. Then Lisa was like *shriekscream* "Fuck you" to Brad and they both flounced out.
That kind of ruined the cuddling that went on prior to the dumbness because Brad was pissed off. We hung out for a bit and then Brad came up with the best idea ever. He took down the signs that Nicole and Lisa put up for me and on the back of Lisa's he wrote a message: "Don't be a lock nazi... seriously. <3 Bradley" Then he drew a picture of a swastika in a circle with a slash through it. It made me laugh. And before we left for the airport, he put it up on the door and locked it and we left through the side door.
I wish I got a picture of it before they took it down, because when I got back it was gone. :(
The drive to the airport was fairly uneventful. When we got there, Brad's flight was delayed by like half an hour which made me a bit happier because that meant thirty more minutes with him. I was a mess by the time we got there, which kind of sucked. I hate it, but I can't help it. Then he had to go through security and it sucked even more. I had to pull myself together to drive back.
When I got onto 880, there was massive amounts of traffic 'cause there was an accident, so I didn't really get onto 17 until about 8PM. While stuck in traffic, I called Zipcar and extended my reservation from 8:30PM until 9PM so I didn't get charged late fees. Then it started raining, so it took me about an hour to navigate through 17 and back up to campus. I made it back at 8:50 and I missed my intramural volleyball game.
Santa Cruz sucks without Brad :( and this apartment sucks even more. Also it's kind of awkward and lonely again. I miss him a lot.
And that's basically it.
I miss having him here so much. It was such a nice break from the usual college boredom, semi-loneliness, and schoolwork. :( I can't wait until I see him again. So for now, it's back to what I've been doing for the past five months. Lots of joy and fun. Sigh.

Kung Fu Hustle

Most epic movie ever.
See it.

Assasins

I'm playing at Santa Cruz right now. And I've killed two people. I'm not quite sure who my third target is, but I know that some of my roommates know her. So hopefully I will be able to eliminate her. That will be awesome. My first two kills were pretty awesome. I caught them both completely unawares. I will not disclose names for the time being in case I get snooped on by other people. I don't want any data to leak that could potentially jeopardize me killing someone. And I am very determined to kill as many people as possible. This is the best game for me. Nobody knows who I am. But I am a very good creeper and I can and will find everyone.

Side rant--I think it's funny when I mention Brad and I see people's faces change immediately. Then they ask me to ask him to do something for them. Idiots. I know you guys don't like him, but don't be a fucking dick about it. That's all I ask. I don't care if you think he's ugly, not good enough for me, whatever, but tell me once and keep it to yourself, because more than that is not cool. He's someone who makes me happy, so accept that and dislodge the tree trunk out your ass. Thanks.

Side note--I also think it's funny that Nicole tries to unite people against people she doesn't like, and they basically end up uniting against her. Awesome.

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.

Try It!

1. Go to maps.google.com
2. Seach 8 Sampsonia Way, Pittsburgh, Allegheny, Pennsylvania 15212
3. Click Street View
4. Click left twice.
5. ?????
6. Profit!

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.

Hahaha

Last night was really interesting, to say the very least. I fucking love Jager. It also makes me very, very angry.
Anyway, today, Brad and I woke up at Nick's to an empty house after a lot of phone ringing. Then we left and went home. We were going to go shopping, but Brad's aunt, Kari, called and wants us to go skiing/snowboarding with her. So we are going to do that! Hopefully, Tony, Brad's dad, wants to go and drive us in his truck. Apparently they have 30 something inches of fresh powder at Ski Bowl or whatever. I'm excited :) Also, it's been snowing. A lot!!! Brad tried to do a cookie last night and it was kind of cool/scary, and then he hit a curb and got curb rash on his tire. I'm going to make him teach me how. Too bad I won't be able to put my cookie skills to use in Cupertino because there's no legit snow or ice.
Then we're going to go shopping in Portland at Saturday Market where our friend, Spoon, is, the Washington Square Mall, the Nike Factory Outlet, and some other places on Sunday.
Coolsies.

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?

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.

Spite

One thing I don't understand is why everyone else in my apartment can blast their music, whatever it is, really loud. Then when I do that, I get an adverse response. If you can do it, why can't I? I don't necessarily enjoy listening to it, but I tolerate it. I don't get all huffy puffy, hoity toity on you and slam your doors and shit. I think this calls for turning my music up louder.

I've been falling behind on the metalhead count, but I've met three more by College 10.
Jake - likes black metal & death metal. His favorite band is Burzum.
Tim - likes metal. He was wearing an Ensiferum shirt when I met him.
David - likes a lot of older metal. I forget what else.

Total: 21
Legit Total: 18

Also, I'm missing Kamelot tonight :( Perhaps if I am feeling nice, I will blast power metal in honor of that.