Before I begin reading 200 pages of the sdfafksjfskfj Tale of Genji, I decided to purchase this “NeuroBliss” beverage, which is basically supposed to trigger all the happy things in my brain. Is this not like drugs? I had a sip this morning before class and seriously, I felt like Ron in the Half Blood Prince when he thought that Harry spiked his juice with some felix felicis. So was it really the beverage, or was it the clever labeling and rocket-shaped bottle that makes this chilly, carbonated Theraflu-punch that made me happier? Who knows…
I went to office hours this morning. I hate how helpless I feel in translation class, but it definitely helps me realize that I am both English- and Japanese-stupid. Going in for help makes me feel a little better, except asking so many questions makes me feel like a bit of a dunce. And I am still confusing transitive and intransitive verbs. ARE THOSE EVEN VERBS?!
Afterward, I spent some time calling up apartments and dialysis for my grandparents. Stupid responsitility. I felt very grown-up for someone who thinks she’s twelve. Except now I want a happy meal or something involving ice cream, so I may have to take that back. Doing things like that make me feel more fearful of the future, but being able to do it makes me feel like I’m sort of ready for it.
In any case, I would very much like to fast forward through time and just get married and have kids already. Because I really want a reason (aside from my own selfishness) to get an oversized Piplup or Squirtle plush for my children.
I want a double cheeseburger and hold the lettuce. Don’t be frontin son. No seeds on a bun. We be up in this drive-thru. Order for two. I gots a craving for a number nine like my shoe. We need some chicken up in here. In this dizzle. For rizzle my nizzle. Extra salt on the frizzle. Dr. Pepper my brother. Another for your mother. Double double super size. And don’t forget the fries. Crispy. What? Oh. My brother. Word up. Shut up. Oww! Psh. Nah. It’s aiight. Heheheh. Ow. Heh? Haaay. Whachu talkin’ bout Willis. Pfft. OHHHH.
Jennette McCurdy and Nathan Kress, how I love you.
(At Little Lucca, buying delicious sandwiches, a boy of perhaps 19 begins ordering his sandwich, wearing a shirt that expresses anti-Che Guevara sentiments)
Little Lucca Sammich Guy (Lucca):Interesting shirt you got there.
Nineteen Year Old With "Factual Opinions" (Shirt):He was a murderer.
Lucca:Oh...so...uhm, you don't like the war either, huh?
Shirt:No. You know the Iraq war is fine. They're fighting, to you know, protect our country, whereas this man was a murderer, murdering innocent people, and that's just wrong. You should read up on your history. (sneer)
Lucca:Oh, I know my history, don't worry, trust me. (Do you want lettuce?)
Shirt:Yes. Well you see my teacher recommended this book he wrote on how this guy was a murderer.
Lucca:Well, that's nice...
Shirt:(annoyed) Yes. So, yeah, but all those people who look up to him as some sort of idol are stupid. Sure they have their opinions, but there are differences between FACTS and LIES.
Lucca:...Did you want mayo.
Shirt:You clearly don't know your history if you support him. Yes I want mayo.
Lucca:...I didn't say I did. I might have a different viewpoint from yours. Avocado?
(The conversation continued until I paid for my sandwiches; at this point I desperately wanted to smack the biased boy in the face with my weapon-like sandwich, or take the slightly more mature route, where I would go up to the man and ask if paying for his sandwich would make him shut up, because I really don't care.)
I wanna play Pokemon, so freakin bad. Catch things with my pokeball in hand. I wanna be the very best, Like no one’s ever seen. Smiling next to Nidoking and -queen. Oh every time I close my eyes. I see myself above the skies. On Ho-oh-oh. A different city every night, oh, oh, I swear. The world better prepare. Cuz I’m gonna catch em all. Ho-oh, hoothoot. Ho-oh, hoothoot.
While waiting for my classroom to open up today, I was outside of Wellman, typing out my notes like a good child. And then a flock of Japanese manboys appeared on the bottom floor, doing weird Japanese manboy things, and honestly, there are few things that entertain me more than 1) listening to people speaking Japanese and sort of understanding what they’re saying and 2) Japanese Engrish, and Yanna agrees with me on this.
Some people date interracially because they dislike their own culture. They date EXCLUSIVELY outside of their race as a way to distance themselves from their own people. It’s like they’re saying, “See…I’m not like the others.” Of course it doesn’t work, but they think it does. Again, interracial dating is a good thing, but it can’t give someone a racial makeover.
Men rarely leave their wife for a chick on the side. Most men prefer to be with their wife. They’re just having a few problems. The chick on the side is nothing more than a woman he can use for sex without a commitment. If all he has to do is promise to leave his wife one day, he’ll say it a thousand times. But he won’t do it.
Procrastinators are no less productive than people who work themselves to death under deadline stress. Since procrastinators put play ahead of work, by the time they’re done playing, they’re in a much better mood to work. Creative juices flow better when you’re in a good mood. Procrastinators enjoy life more than anyone, because they don’t worry and they still meet the deadline.