Personal Happy Hour

Alright, I am going to let you in on a little ritual of mine. My favorite time of each day is at nine AM when I watch reruns of 'Beverly Hills 90210' on FX. I know it sounds silly, but by nine in the morning, everyone else has left and its about the only quiet time in the house. And also, that show is really fucked up. It makes my life look like Pleasentville (before the colors). I am so happy that my mom isnt snorting cocaine, while I am sleeping with a married man and contemplating abortion, and have a boyfriend thats a bipolar alcoholic who is cheating me out of my life savings. I never watched this show as a teenager; I was more of a 'Saved by the Bell' fan. FX is currently showing the college years of 90210; they just graduated from CU this week. I have no idea how long this show ran...but I hope it ended soon after this. I am hoping they will start the series over, and be showing high school episodes soon. Although, I will miss that slutty Valerie character, she cracks me up. Every one of them is so incredibily dependent on being in a relationship at all times. I would definitely not want to date someone who dated every one of my female friends before me. Its craziness. Anyhow, I do not watch very much television, I am rarely even home. But that is my personal hour of peace every morning that makes me feel better about myself.

Update: everyone else cheats at strip card games...except me, I have morals...well kind of.

Quote: "I would kiss a girl" -my mom (I hope she doesnt get the link to my blog)

A Blast From The Past

So I had an old friend, Jenny, visit me this weekend. It was crazy fun. On Friday we attended PiKapp's battle of the bands. I picked up J in the ghetto, near Union Station. I arrived early, and had to wait in my car for about 20 minutes at McDonald's across the street. It was super scary. I saw many homeless guys on crack leering at me. I was also blessed enough to see a real-live prostitute, all of her breasts and half of her ass, obese, disturbing. When J finally arrived, we headed towards the El Rey. I was not drinking that night, unusual I know, so I was very hyperactive. We created some awesome new dance moves to supplement the classics, such as the 'sprinkler' and the 'shopping cart'. My favorite new one is my "What is it? It's my hand!", ask me for a demonstration sometime, its going to be big in the clubs.
Saturday we went climbing at Malibu Creek with a bunch of rock wall people. It was super fun, except for the parts where I almost died. We jumped off high rocks into the swimming hole. I suck at diving apparently, had very ungraceful jumps, and one time hit my ass on the bottom of the pond. While chillin' on a rock, some rock cowboy threw a rope down and it hit me in the face. Soon after, I went to take down my rope anchor and decided to scramble up the rocks, instead of hiking up the path. Near the top, one of the rocks I used as a hold, came out of the hill and an avalanche of dirt blinded me. Luckily, a couple of friends were nearby and pulled me up. So I survived.
In celebration of life, J and I headed to Westwood to party after an awesome dinner at Macaroni Grill. We never left the preparty location though, except to make a chaser run. We played a drinking game (river or something) with cute Jewish boys, and then eventually strip Indian poker (high card). I do not recommend this method of play to anyone else, its very rapid, although entertaining for an ADD kid like me. I drank more than planned (surprising) and got a whole 1.5 hours of sleep before driving J to the station. Then I had to work 8 hours at REI, during our biggest sale of the year. Fun stuff. Well, I got some rocket propulsion homework to do. More honest reporting to come.

An Epic Begins

So, I used to think that posting diary-like entries on the internet was self-indulgent and ridiculous. However, I have since warmed to the idea. I used to keep a physical journal, but my handwriting is so atrocious, I couldnt read past entries, especially the ones filled with emotion. I would like to thank my brother, Robbie, for helping me set this up. I can never seem to figure out the simple stuff in life. To start off my site, here is a poem I wrote while driving on the 405, on the way to take two midterms.

I sit in the outer circle of my life
Watching her play my cards,
Going all in, when I know he has the kicker,
Foolish decisions, inspired by liquid confidence,
Sometimes she lets me play,
Even with a lucky deal, I fold.
Intimidation is great and I grow fearful,
So I let her play, hand after hand,
Positive either way I will go home with light pockets.

So, I felt fairly artsy after the urge to write washed over me. I considered going for a tortured artist look, but I am unable to apply eyeliner. So for now, I will stick with the nerdy/liberal/outdoorsy confusing combo of an image I got going on.