Depressed Blogging.

The song that best sums up my life right now is Breathe by Taylor Swift. I've been so depressed.

I see your face in my mind as I drive away
We never thought it would end this way
Its killing me to see you go after all this time

Your the only thing I know like the back of my hand
And I cant breathe without you- but I have to.

Because I know when I drive away from SB, I'll be thinking of that doggone International Relations final with the innumerable times I wrote 'neoliberalist' thinking it was a real word, and getting points docked off- doh. Why can't wikipedia tell us these things before we write 10 page papers?

I will also miss my Monday and Wednesday time slot with Prof. Rauchhaus, the most bad ass balding man I have ever met. And yes, I do know IR like the back of my hand- terrorism ain't got nothin on me bitch!

1) Structure influences behavior.
2) Bad outcomes are unintended consequences.
3) Cognitive dissonance- the demon in us all!

Taylor always manages to write the songs that best sing my heart's lyrics. Sigh. Now I have to go to work and pester myself with all these depressing moments of leaving Fall quarter. We had a good time, but sadly, it was not for us. Thank you Fall, and maybe we'll meet some time in the future... maybe?

Just sayin'

I TOLD YOU SO! I TOLD YOU SO! I FKN TOLD YOU SO! Wow. I am astonished. I wasn't that crazy to have insisted I would wear it. Or maybe I'm just as crazy as Kitty Purry?

See previous blog: http://tinyurl.com/yhnol7f

New Moon- A feminist casuality.

Last night, my roommates and I ran in and out of 8 theaters feverishly looking for 4 seats in perfect unison. This was the first time in my life "NO RUNNING in the halls!!!!" was addressed to me (I felt like a giddy school girl). After settling on the second row (my neck is now permanently cramped), we embarked on an emotional, sexual, mental, physical (for some of us more than others, ha) journey- other wise known as the midnight showing of New Moon.

Unbeknownst to I, New Moon was filled with an over exaggeration of anti feminist roles. Mind you, I am not president of the Women Leaders club, nor a devout reader of Feminism USA, nor the effervescent promoter of abortion dumpsters- I am simply attempting to deal with the same tribulations in life as everyone else. I was appalled, ashamed, and embarrassed for Bella, the main character who cries, shrieks, and whines for every wet dog, pale faced narcissist.

Now I understand dating a vampire or werewolf is no easy task. I would, too, be distracted if my boyfriends face glittered as bright as Madonna's bustier. Let me sum up some of the problems I had with Bella:

1. Her actions, if reciprocated in reality, are exactly the same of women in abusive relationships. She is passive, forgiving, unquestioning and lost without Edward. Edward, her vampire boyfriend, embodied who she was in heart and mind, and without him she was a futile, lip-biting loser. After leaving and vowing to never see her again, Edward disappears without trace and Bella falls into (nearly clinical) depression, who's only escape is into the arms of another man. As romantic as it sounds, Bella lacks the self confidence, the self appreciation, and the self respect that a woman should have. The directors portray this as a norm in modern day society, where a woman's world revolves around her affection, and collapses with its void. THIS IS BULLSHIZ! Sorry but, the portrayal of a self pitying teenage girl is a harsh strike at the pedestal of female prowess.



2. Bella's character is never given initiative, and in fact relies and develops solely on the male characters. Maybe it’s just because I'm an over analyzer, but I counted 3 times when Bella was in HER car being driven by the man. Can she not be behind the wheel in the presence of her significant other? WHAT THE HELL?! First, they give her a completely lacking personality (more importantly no cool magical powers like her bfs!) then as if to confirm her inferiority, she is not permitted to drive her own car. Another kick to the 'woman on the ground' role.

3. Last and foremost, Bella is a clingy, psycho girlfriend, who's love impulses are as tumultuous as Lindsay's panty slips. Her happiness relies on the fact that she has the threat of a menacing vampire at her heels, and the scare of some Natives on werewolf crack- all in the name of lust. Instead, she is pitied through out the movie for her desperate cries for help from a man and constantly pleading for someone to save her. GIVE ME A BREAK! See picture: She goes so far as to attempt to drown herself for the love of Edward- is this a hidden message for girls on how to deal with relationships and broken hearts?



(ALSO, who in their right mind would reject Jacob?! THATS RIGHT! No one. If that doesn't prove to you how idiotic her character is, I don’t know what will. Just kidding ... kinda.)

Ultimately, New Moon was a sad realization of the role of women in modern day cinema. With such influential female movies like Million Dollar Baby, New Moon seemed to sock, pummel, and walk on the audacity of women. I know most of you are thinking "Woah Daisy, calm down! It’s only one movie". But considering that New Moon is expected to have more net gross than Heath Ledger's Dark Knight or any of the Harry Potter movies (WHICH IS A BIG FKN DEAL TO ME!!!!), I'd say the undertones of New Moon will engrave this female persona into millions of Edward-Cullen-obsessed-turned-Jacob yearning fans- female or not.

Too much head nodding and open mouthed smiling.

Don't you hate it when your starring at 2 friends who are hysterically laughing at a joke you haven't the slightest idea about? You continually nod your head and flash that smile- you know, the one that you give to someone speaking to you in a language you don't understand until you realize its broken English with a bad accent. This goes on for quite some time, two minutes, ten minutes ... the whole lunch date. You wonder if these idiots, will ever realize that you are in fact sitting amongst them, with them, and were even invited to join. They go on, entranced in their own little world of drunken nights, slutatious fun- and then, they glance over (noticing your weird open mouthed, gaping smile) and say-

"Sorry, inside joke!"


As if to confirm your social inadequacy! Doh. And when they do snap back to reality, the awkwardness in the air is enough to make you eat your coleslaw, fatty mayo and all. Or some really anti social people, pull out their Purpleberry and start rapidly texting, giggling to themself, as if to establish their own little secret with an unknown amor. So, my question is- what does one do when faced with this inevitable, regrettable, dreadful situation?

1. Nod and pretend as though you completely know what they are talking about. IE: "HAHAHAA, hello kitty hello kitty-so funny!". But you run the chances of two outcomes- if you have really mean 'friends', they'll stare at you- hard- shake their heads and say "No Daisy, killed it". If you have slightly nicer friends, they will pretend to laugh and include you on their little joke, but don't be fooled! This compliance only exaggerates the awakwardness in the air, because they know as well as you that their hotel of inside jokes is FULL- no vacancy, no extra twin beds, no couch sleeping!

2. There is no way (in hell!) I can attempt to imagine both your memories of the 3rd grade french teacher who taught you all how to sing Frère Jacques whilst eating crepes. But instead of admitting defeat, I'll say "WOW, your teacher was soooo funny!" or "I know that song! Ding ding dong...!". And then you'll look at me, with sarcastic eyes pitying my yearn for acceptance (!), and say "You just had to be there." BURN! This outcome, is probably the one of the biggest rejections you will ever experience (right up there with kindergarten rejection and getting a mark in the 'no' box in "do you like me?" letters). Lets examine this- it explicitly confirms your insignificance by declaring; 1) you were NOT there, and 2) you will NEVER be there (unless you have a time machine), which concludes: you are not us, you're not in our joke, you're expelled, you're rejected, and finally- we see your futile attempts, but sorry NO. Jeez, harsh.

So I have a solution. Why don't we all just be nice and include everyone in our conversations? And I know you think its all cool to go CIA secretive, but just chill out! Your not that cool. Here's to an end to blank eyes, open mouths and potential friendship ending situations!

Or maybe I'm jealous of people with inside jokes and my head is tired of nodding to things I don't understand. Or maybe, as an inside joke, I wrote this blog to further strangle you non-inside jokers! Or maybe, because I think its mean to say "Sorry, inside joke!".

4 letter words are never a good sign.

Valerie and my pussy.


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Midterms are OVER! Over. Over.

Today I took a nauseating LSAT prep course, including a 4 hour practice test. Results: the last section I answered 3/25 questions correct. Harvard here I come!

And then, because I pitied myself waaay too much, I went to the library for four hours to study. I saw my Poli Sci TA, which I think gave me extra credit in his heart. The library has become my second home, where a desk in the study room is always vacant, always clean, conveniently close to a wall outlet, and other students know never to sit in it for fear of me! Am I paranoid to pack up my laptop and my books whenever I feel the urge to go to the restroom for five minutes? Or just recheck out my reserves? Or use the printer in the next room? Am I? AM I? AM I?!



Results of Halloween- disastrous! Rejinald was a pirate for the fourth year in a row, and I wore a hand-me-down sailor suit.

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Valerie IS my pussy!

Je ne fais jamais...

Jamais, rien, nulle part? French negations are all the more confusing on top of 5 midterms! Troubling as it is, I've found a way to distract myself.

Also, someone told me in my lit class "Oh your name is Daisy?! So cool, my dog's name is Daisy!"

Cool.

"Don't worry you are MUCH cuter!"

Thanks...? (pour rien!)

Lately I've been semi obsessed with Viktor and Rolf. Reminds me of ugly flowers ... kinda like myself. Hum. This was at Paris fashion week, and these girls look fat and fierce! Here's to hoping I can relive a Space themed prom, and get to wear the dress with a hole in it or the one that looks like the little squirting dinosaur from Jurassic Park (who kills the chubby guy). De laquelle est-ce que vous preferez?

Excitement!

Today I received the best news I have heard in quite a while- we found Cubby! My little pomeranian baby has been missing for 4 weeks, and today Mom gave me a call that she found him.

She was at the farmers market, where she shops every Sunday, and saw a man holding Cubby. She followed him to his car, and when he put Cubby down she yelled his name and he ran right to her. One would think this would be enough guilty evidence, but the man insisted Cubby was his for a whole 3 months. As the man was going to take off with our dog, his wife then got out of the car and told my mom to go talk with her daughter (who surprisingly, is my age) at home. My mom followed them home, THEY LIVE 3 BLOCKS FROM MY HOUSE and had to convince the girl that returning my dog was the right thing to do.

Alls I have to say is that my mother is the most patient, loving, heart warming person I know. And that family was SOOO lucky she was the only one to confront them, because if it were me I would have notified the cops, and lectured the family on DOG stealing which is a crime (duh). But anyways, I'm ecstatic to have my boy back, after many a sleepless nights and days filled with worry and regret. He is never going to be out of my sight again and I can't help but wonder if my mom wasn't there at the farmer's market today.


For the past 3 days, I've been sitting on my couch, HBO blasted and left on for 12 hours, watching movies. This weekend is SOOO BORING! But I am looking forward to Halloween, when my little faerie cousin and evil sister come down to SB. yay!

Sitting in my Comparative Literature class (the only location I have signal!), talking about haiku, renga, and waka ... booohoo. If I knew Japanese literature relied solely on 31 syllables I never would have taken this class!

Anyways, I have been on a yearlong hiatus from this blog and am now deciding to spare some time for it. Although, last year I was so busy doing nothing I could have dedicated some time to this... hum.

The other night, after a long dinner shift at work I came home to park my car except someone was blocking my way into the parking lot. He looked at me, and walked into his house. So I got out of my car, walked to his house and said "Could you move yourself?" and he replied "Yeah hold on."

After waiting about 3 minutes, he walked out of his house and moved his fat red pick up truck, got out and said "You know I could have been a real asshole and just left it there". And I said "You know, I could of been a real bitch and called the tow company".

And we glared at each other as the rain pelted our faces, thunder shaking the skies, and I turned away with triumph and walked to my house. RAAWWR! Then I was really scared after I got into the house, cuz he could have seen where I lived, and then I started thinking maybe I shouldnt have said that to him, or maybe I should go back and apologize, then I thought- NO BITCH, stand your ground!

A lesson learned.

After many an awkward and somewhat uncomfortable playdates, I'm simply going to conclude that mean people do not deserve much from you. State the obvious, but yes I have to. I've divulged this year, whether or not you think so. I've divulged in my books, studies, and into myself (quite frankly). Whether or not that fits square with your idea of crazed college nights of intoxication, matters less to me than a Starbucks frap ($3.85). Whether or not you enjoy my school has no relevance upon my life, relationships, or future. A single visit on a drunken night says little about culture or conflict, so please leave the cynicism up to me. I end this with an emphasis on how obnoxious and absurd it is to prance around the thought that I would enjoy myself much more at a sub 20,000 pop. mountain retreat.

Also, I'm fine alone if that means I get to avoid conversations on the daily drug or how uninspiring my nights are. I will enjoy graduation- I will enjoy every night, every weekend, every Friday I spent hours writing papers over themed parties, Floatopia, and whatever mess of a night SB throws my way.

I get by on my own, and I prefer it. Picky and have let one too many 'friends' throw ridicule my way with little lip.

(Hello, this post was written in summer and never published. I have been enlightened- Professor Rauchhaus told me, "In college you're gonna have people who say their your friends, but turn out to be sluts who want you to take a sip". True dat!)

Shanking is not cool, blogging is.