what do you do when you have so much to say that you’re too overwhelmed to write?

I’ve decided that my newest long-distance goal is getting into the Ph.D program at UCAL Santa Barbara. The program requires you to live for a year in the respective region of study (for me, the Mediterranean), and Santa Barbara is probably insanely beautiful. I’m ready to get out of the South, and probably for good. Its been holding me back, for sure, and California is my best option out.

my parents constantly warn me about having a blog and a facebook. they forward/cut out articles about companies not hiring/firing employees because of stuff they read on their blog/facebook. that’s just ridiculous. this is the internet. its like a 4th dimension society, an imaginary wonderland where anything goes cuz everything goes, and all you have to do is google it. GOOGLE, people. we have Google. case in point. honestly, i don’t care what you have on your website because websites can’t hurt people any more than an obscene painting or rock and roll music. (two girls one cup was almost painful, but the reaction videos made it worthwhile.) on top of that, there are so many websites, i’m one single grain of salt in a big ass jar of salt that magically keeps growing. with rainbows. and unicorns.

my only concern is actual people i know reading the blog and giving me shit for it later. its a friggin BLOG. the whole point of it is to say things you’d never say out loud in the most public way possible, and its not like i’m not thinking it already so why does it matter if i put it on the internet? i guess it sucks if the people i know, know each other, so to avoid all this nonsense i deleted my known blog and made up this one. only one friend of mine knows this one, and that’s only because he actually appreciated the old one, and that’s always totally sweet.

(i write this because i may or may not have leaked my blog to someone i’m trying to work for, and i may or may not have blown it. )

all i gotta say is that anything i say should be taken with a grain of salt. anything anyone says should be, for that matter, and i think the world would be a lot less unpleasant if people took this into account more often.

so to top off my super excellent day, as i was backing out of the kroger parking lot today, some lady backed into me. ok, we backed into each other. it was a mutual effort. GREAT. now one more cop can tell me that my license is still suspended and i shouldn’t be driving. thanks officer, this was brought to my attention 3 hours ago. fucking a. good thing it was on private property, cuz he said he would have arrested me otherwise. thanks officer. you are an excellent dude. now my milk is warm. goddamn it.

they all fucking suck.

they have never done anything good for me.

all they do is give me grief and make me pay ostentatious ticket fines for ridiculous offenses like turning right onto a street where the sign said no right turn. OMFG.

they are all worthless shitholes who take sick, sadistic pride in their jobs.

i hope to God the reap their just deserts.

now you know why God miscarried your baby, dickhead.

now you know why the closest you ever get to a woman is arresting a prostitute.

now you know why you suck.

i fucking hate them.

UPDATE: Ok, so maybe when I initially wrote this, I was a little hotheaded and may have said something out of line. However, the whole reason I was in the car was because a friend needed me to pick her up down by school, and she wouldn’t listen to my directions and kept going in the wrong direction, and I in my effort to compensate I made an illegal RIGHT turn. I didn’t know my license was suspended until I was pulled over. Then, somewhere in between my car and the motorcycle the cop lost my ID and made me sit there for 10 minutes while he looked for it. What a dumb fuck. When he finally got his shit together, I was late for a meeting, I was furious with my friend, and all I wanted to do was get the hell out of there. He then had the audacity to say, “You’re gonna give me an attitude? I was gonna give you a break, but not if…nuh huh…” Christ dude give me my ticket before the demons come out. Please. For the children. So after committing a bogus traffic offense I leave with two tickets with my friend driving because my license is suspended and he won’t let me. The icing on the cake: she just started learning how to drive. She’s older than me. Fucking strike me already, God. (02/21/08)

…was my halloween costume in the 7th grade. i used the unitard that was part of my cheerleading uniform and bought a top hat, some gloves, and a cane from the Oriental Trading Company. it was the second catalogue purchase i ever made, after American Girl (i had Samantha).

i have yet to hear of a 7th grade halloween costume more badass than a tap dancing zombie.

i may or may not have made a profile on a millionaire dating website. i was curious. its just too good to be true. so sue me. and its turning out to be a fantastic opportunity to conduct some sociological experiments. and to go on exotic vacations and have someone pay my rent every month. i kid? stay tuned.

who knew that it wouldn’t be so painful?

wonder if i’ll remember that in a few hours…

Writing a research paper for my Hinduism class is completely altering my perspective on everything. I don’t think people, myself included, really appreciate the depth of understanding required in Religious Studies. especially unspecialized studies.

I’m slowly and not surely pulling myself along…i feel like a tortoise…which might not be bad, since the tortoise won the race.

who knows.

it is terribly difficult to write my most personal thoughts on the internet, and for the precise reason that other criticize blogging. the idea of self-promoting my craziness in the form of therapeutic writing is exciting and terrifying, and i fear coming off as an delusion ego-maniac so much that i haven’t been journaling altogether, online or on paper, and now my life is polluted with spiritual muck…weak self-control, lack of motivation, careless spending, continued inability to do the next right thing…i’m constantly haunted by my conscience, by the image of my potential realized self, by the stronger self i once was…and the thought that i’m just being too hard on myself flashes through my mind, but i would be completely delusional if i convinced myself that were true. i’m scared that i’m fucking up the rest of my life, and i’m not even doing anything bad, per say, and its not that i’m not doing anything good, either. i’m not doing anything excellent, not giving of myself entirely, of struggling and working to become the best that i can possibly be. i’m settling and it feels like quicksand. i’m drowning and i’m terrified i won’t save myself.

i hope the breaking point comes soon, before its too late.

i’m writing a paper (its on the rabbinic interpretation of Psalm 81:1-6 as presented by James L. Kugel in his essay, “Two Introductions to Midrash.” that means i’m smart.), and my friend Justin is studying for a criminal justice final, and this is what he just read to me:

There is no evidence that marijuana is physically addictive or necessarily leads to the use of harder drugs (Nadlemann, 1997; see also Zimmer & Morgan, 1995). Furthermore, the legalization of marijuana would lead to the separation of the cannabis and hard drug markets so that, in the course of buying marijuana, people would not gain access to harder drugs. Finally, legalizing marijuana would reduce the prison, jail, and probation populations and decrease law enforcement costs considerably.

Like, Duh with a capital D.

Source: The Politics of Injustice: Crime and Punishment in America, 2nd ed., by Katherine Beckett and Theodore Sasson. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage, 2004. 193.

this week has been a doosey. moved into my new place…rent is $285 a month, its across the street from my best friends (on whose couch i have been living for the past year, essentially), and its NOT my parents’ house. totally maxed out my credit card buying shit for my new room–its pretty much 1/2 IKEA 1/2 Wal-Mart–but its whatevs. I’m in the “Millennium Generation,” I’m supposed to have debt.

haven’t been taking my medicine. I don’t know why I do that. If I miss a couple of days because I’m busy/forget, it throws me in a funk that for some reason compels me not to take it. then i start fucking up in life, which only makes me more depressed, and the second i start taking it again, everything starts to get better. goddamn me.