I like to eat

apples and bananas





I actually do not like to eat bananas.

Oh my

I am drunk for the first time! Yay! But everyone is asleep so no one can share in the festivities. Also it took forever to write festivities. Also I think I snort a lot. Anyway yay! A first time for everything. Im pretty gone even though its only been like... hmm.. I dont even know. Whatever. Hurrah! And good night! Woo!

Hug!

This has to be the sweetest thing.





Hugs are my favorite thing in the whole world. I love being hugged and watching other people hug, it’s just so lovely. Especially if it is a nice, firm hug, like the person means it. I think it is the ultimate expression of affection.

The competition is pretty stiff

I need to learn html. Everybody knows html.





Everybody.

If Brad Pitt was young/a woman

Fun with Photoshop.

La la la

I keep trying to decide between only letting me read my blog, and keeping it open to the public (which currently consists of a whopping 4). There is no reason to make it private, but I am always tempted to slap on some limited access so I can seem mysterious.

I think I am becoming less and less patient with people. I have accumulated a lot of evidence for this, but I think the competition was the ultimate test because I was running (well, sitting on my ass) on no sleep. And I failed. Miserably. I remember one of the older team members trying to chat with me and all I did was nod mindlessly with my mouth hanging open like a zombie, the whole time hoping he would go away. I had a love-hate relationship with the damn registration table because I kept wanting to leave, but whenever I left I kept wanting to come back and tried to cleverly eject whoever had taken my place. I was avoidant and reclusive the whole time, and I finally snapped and Sherry and Senthil because they were trying to help me carry some box which I suddenly became violently possessive of. Senthil sadly proclaimed that chivalry is dead, and I think he is wary of me now. Bah. There were so many people who had much more of a right to be on edge than me, and they managed to stay perfectly decent.

I also enjoy getting smart with some of my roommates at times, which is automatic but which I instantly regret. And I am beginning to attack outside of my inner circle as well. =( It kills me because I like to run around bragging about how “chill” I am when really I have a mean streak the size of a small country. What could I possibly have to offer besides being mild and accommodating, and I cant even do that. I guess lesson learned is to keep up the fight against my smartass/bitchy tendencies even in times of prolonged activity.

Also, I slept for 16 hours today. 16. And I really want to go back to bed. It is all or nothing with this sleep thing.

Lots of metaphors for snow

It was 4 am on a January(?) night of my freshman year, and I had been sexiled once again by my roommate. With nothing else to do, and being the flighty, restless freshman that I was, I decided to take a walk. What I saw outside made me catch my breath. It was Philly's first real snow of the year--my first ever--and it was glorious. Everything was bright and even and clean, like a thick sheet had been placed over the ground. I remember spotting a can of beer on the ground, dented in the middle and covered in snow. It was rusty and grimy and probably home to a whole family of STDs, but enshrined in its tomb of sparkling white fluff, it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. There was no one else around, and for two hours I frolicked alone, dragging my feet and feeling my heart skip a beat as I realized that this foreign substance was just as soft and light and fluffy as it looked in the movies. I was stunned by its smoothness, and I wanted to ravage it. I wanted to attack every patch of snow with my flopping boots, because I knew that no matter how exuberantly I stomped about, I could never destroy all of it.

And now, a little after the sky finished shitting out our biggest snowfall since that year, the snow-covered campus still makes me ache with its loveliness, and I still feel the urge to blast out of this warm, comfy lab in Moore, into the landscape of sugar-frosted trees, and stomp and stomp until I have obliterated every porcelain inch.