Day 01- A recent picture of you and 15 interesting facts about yourself.
1. I’m feeling a little bit under the weather and have been drinking soups, pho (in picture above) to cure it. Very non-western, I know.
2. I have this birthmark, it’s some sort of skin deformity, on my neck that EVERYONE, and I mean everyone, believes is a tattoo. I’m considering getting “it’s not a tattoo” just to clarify for the people who don’t know. But because I’ve been told its effing fugly my whole life, I may just laser it off completely.
3. Born and raised in Brooklyn, but possesses none of the ‘hood’ or ‘hipster’ qualities portrayed in media. Although, when I do get angry, I start talking like a ohnoyoudiant, weavetapping black girl. (was that racist? eh, idc)
4. I am most definitely not this outspoken in public (I’m actually very awkward and socially inept). Even I’ve know you for quite a bit, I probably haven’t shown you the completely uninhibited me, because you would all run away screaming obscenities. If you do know the completely uninhibited me, thank you for not running away and screaming obscenities.
5. I’m sad that I don’t have foodies around me to explore Boston’s eateries with. Everyone is vegan and doesn’t like rice. =\
6. When people sleep on public transportation, or any general transportation, with their head tilled back, tongue lolling out, and neck exposed, I have to fight back the urge to karate chop them in the Adam’s apple. Especially if you’re snoring, and it’s quivering slightly; It’s like a scared rabbit that I can prey on. But I contain myself… most of the time.
7. My dog’s nickname is Demondog. Because she’s a demon… in dog form. I <3 her.
8. I’ve always been single, and therefore sexually deprived. But that’s another post for another day.
9. I drool in my sleep. Sometimes I fart in my sleep loud enough to scare myself awake. AHHA. Who wants to sleepover now?
10. I have to cuddle something in order to fall asleep. Bodypillows, blankets, demondogs.
11. I’m a very prudish slut. Not slutty enough to don the title of “slut”, but slutty enough to say dang, she’s kind of a freak. So I get the worst of both worlds; no ass, and a social stigma.
12. I have no idea what I’m doing in college sometimes. I will probably be living in a cardboard box in 2 years time… or being a crack dealers bitch ._.
13. Anyway, I did watch someone die once, and it was the single most horrible feeling I’ve ever felt.
14. Not that that was anymore uplifting, but I’m completely the definition of a stoner. Even before I found Maryjane, I was a complete idiot and thatssouniversaldude kind of a person. Everything makes sense now.
15. I like to poop. The activity is very satisfying.
Day 01- A recent picture of you and 15 interesting facts about yourself. Day 02- A picture of something you cannot live without. Day 03- A habit that you wish you didn’t have. Day 04- List 15 songs that represent your life’s soundtrack. Day 05- A picture of somewhere you’ve been to. Day 06- A…
And I’ve been neglecting this blog. I swear after i get settled in my new dorm and class schedule, I’ll write something substantial instead of reblogging cute cupcakes and maryjane related material. Although the later’s awesomeness is worthy of clogging up this page.
I went up to Ithaca, during their orientation week to enjoy what little summer I had left from my brain-cell-melting retail job with these two:
We did the usual. Unpack Ivy’s life into her new apartment. Oohing and ahhing over her creative jewelry organizing skills (she used a memory board and safety pinned her necklaces and earrings to them). I was highly impressed (boys should take into account how easily it is to assume me). Did the tutor of the hilly campus. Checked out the libraries
and their cool chairs. And then I came home.
Aha. Not really. My tolerance must have gone down from the lack of alcohol attacking my disabled Asian enzymes, because out of the 3 nights I’ve drank there, I passed out during 2 of them.
First night: Beer pong. Me and the bestie. The Busgirls. We clear tables.
Take into account that I usually nurse a initially icy beer until it’s an undrinkable digusting warm bleh, at parties and people still without fail, cup my beet red face giggle at how drunk I look. Thanks Southerneasternchinesepansybeerdrinkingtraits. For once I played by the rules and used 2 beers for each rack. We were undefeated for most of the night. After maybe 3 beers, I passed the fuck out.
Woke up in a male’s bed: :0 Gay friends: :T
Second night: Spiderweb. The most nerve racking drinking game. You bounce this pingpong ball into a shot glass in hopes of passing the person holding the other glass. Get it in one bounce, opportunity to change directions. Then you get caught in the spiderweb. Drunk = horrible handeyecorridination = me drinking even more. I didn’t even make it to the bedroom this time. Knocked out on the couch.
Bigger, crazier spiderweb. I didn’t die this time. And amazingly didn’t slump into a corner and pray for the floor to stop spinning. But I did watch gay porn with said gay friend in his bed… while cuddling.
"But your thing doesn’t work.", I said in the most innocent voice when his outlet wouldn’t work. But other housemates thought of erectile dysfunctional parts instead.
"How do I get myself into these situations?", I asked myself. So then I decided to go watch 500 days of summer in the other room instead. Slightly a horny drunk, the pole-licker (like myself) decided to coax me back into watching pornographic films with him, by hugging me from behind with nothing on but boxer briefs. Wow, i just realized he’s gotten to second base with a girl quicker than any of his other interest who pack more than I do.
I can’t really make sense of that weekend; My SAT scores were probably not high enough to do so. But it did prepare me for the crazy partying I’ll be doing over this school semester. /sarcasm. That’s going to have it’s own entry.