Wow. Today was such a great day. Okay, maybe only the part when I did stuff on behalf of Common Grounds (because I felt like I was doing something!) with Deanna. But the best part of today? Fuckin' getting results in organic chemistry.

Okay, you say "Who cares?"

Let me tell you. If you have never preformed an organic chemistry lab experiment then you, my good friend have never felt frustration. There's all these organic chemicals and their solvents, acids and bases mixed together and dried with sodium sulfate attached to a condenser and everything is measured in micromoles and milligrams and μL (microliters = 0.000001 L). They are insignificant measurements and its so easy to screw up. It's not like cooking where you just add ingredients based on the taste or how much you feel should go in (thats how I cook, at least. I never "measure". It's always a gut instinct).

Anyway, in all my years of doing organic chemistry (okay, maybe only a semester and a half) I have not once made a product. I've had left over solvents and drying ingredients. But I have never been able to isolate a product. Or at least not by myself.

But today, man that all changed. I went into lab, with my prelab done (in the Bio lecture before class, granted - but it was fresh in my mind!) and I said to myself, "Okay, today I am going to follow all of the directions. I will measure everything out to the exact decimal point. I will not screw up because today's lab seemed too easy to screw up."

And I didn't screw up. My crude product was a clear liquid while everyone else's was a brownish solidy liquidy substance. I was able to boil off all of the diethyl ether and I was left with my product which is... propyl p-tolyl ether.

Is anyone even fuckin' impressed?

Everyone else got weird IR spectras. Mine, according to the professor, looked better and closer to the correct IR. So...drumroll...look:

Okay, so it might not be much. And I'm sitting here looking at the real IR spectra for propyl p-toyl ether and it looks nothing like what I got. I think mine still has too much water in it as you can tell from the semi big wide dip on the far left. The things next to that, I'm not sure.

Meh. It's better than some of the other spectra. Let's hope this isn't the last time I get a product.

You know in physics, the kind you watch on PBS or the Discovery Channel and think you're an expert by the end of the show, especially in string theory, how there are multiple universes. These parallel dimensions sprout when there is some sort of possible branching point such as a decision, a coin toss or whatever. One dimension where the coin lands heads up and another when it lands heads down (tails up).

Right now, I want to jump into another dimension.

No, not sheep.

Anyway, It's now almost 10 o'clock on a fine and cloudy Thursday morning in Philadelphia. The weather is very nice even if there is no sun. I just took a physics exam and I probably failed horribly. But, that's so the past. So ten minutes ago. Now, in a few hours, I have my Pharmacy interview. The one where I will walk in with my sweet sweet blazer and dazzle the interviewer. And in the end, it would be the interviewer who would be begging me to attend the school and so not the other way around (me getting on me knees and begging the fucking hell out of the interviewer and possibly offering blowjobs or any kind of job to get in the school - I'll do anything. N E THANG).

But enough about me. Oh wait. More about me. Let's do something fun. I saw this on But Enough About You. So I'll reproduce it to the best of my abilities.

A lifetime:
Not long enough and sometimes too long. Like a penis?

5 years ago:
I guess it was freshman year of high school. The spring semester of high school at least. I always remember a vague, weird smell as I enter new buildings. Stepping foot into the high school for the first time felt strange and alien. The doors, the windows, the chairs, everything was different and new. It's not really a bad thing. But I guess my sense of smell is very closely related to my memories. Freshman year of high school was especially tough for me because I haven't yet built that support structure of friends and people so I felt alone and sometimes teased for being that kid who was different.

1 year ago:
Freshman year of college. Spring semester. I remembering looking back, I was working at the library then. I commented to one of my coworkers that I have been there for a year already and I thought that was amazing since I haven't had a job for more than six months previously. So going a year at a job that I hated was amazing for me. I felt that I was beginning to grow as a person because it was just a matter of sticking to it, interpersonal skills and nasty office politics that I had to learn. At the same time, I was in school and found out what hard work really was. However, same thing with freshman year in high school - I had not yet built my new support structure in college. I had people I knew from high school and people I am now getting to know in college but there's not really a strong connection (not that there was any strong bonds in high school).

Yesterday:
Organic Chemistry where I sat next to my academic best friend and former biology lab partner, Lidiya. Then went to a biology lab where I had to deal with nutjobs who want to go into medicine. And at night, went to a multicultural seminar with my best friend Deanna. The bonds have been established, the structure has support and I am very well off. Later that night, I talked to Chris, my boyfriend. My first real boyfriend. The strongest bond.

Tomorrow:
I will sleep in Chris' bed. Because I will be glad its fucking Friday and I would be done with my interview. And I will be horny. Sorry, but its true. And Chris will just have to help me out. (teehee)

5 snacks I enjoy:
1. OREOES
2. Chocolate
3. Jello - My mom has been making these two layer jello cups with fruit in them at home. They are especially good with whipped cream.
4. Potato Chips. Shut up. I know they're bad for me but I still enjoy them.
5. Babies. I mean, popcorn. Yes. soft, flesh, fatty popcorn.


5 songs I know the words to:
1. The Postal Service - Brand New Colony
2. Most of the Postal Service and Death Cab for Cutie songs.
3. America, The Beautiful (duh?)
4. Happy Birthday
5. Other songs, I know the chorus or something. And I can't think of anymore songs.


5 things I would do with $100,000,000:
1. How much is this? $100 million? I'll buy my parents the shore house they've been whining about. And a few other houses. My mom wants a house in each state. I don't know about that. I mean, who wants to live in Central USA? (sorry, just a preference)
2. Not have to have dreams of marrying a doctor. I can...never work again.
3. Send some money to various members of my extended families. Uh...would that cause bad feelings? I don't know. My mom will know.
4. Invest it. MMMMM...interest.
5. Be able to pay my tuition. hehe.


5 locations I'd like to run away to:
1. Bora Bora - Matt (ex) and I have been talking about this for quite some time. But its so damn expensive. But...omg, its Bora freakin' Bora.
2. To Europe. I would love to go backpacking or touring across Europe.
3. Asia. To visit what I am missing.
4. Chris' arms. (awww)
5. Uh...I don't really know. I mean, I don't really want to run away anywhere. I'm fine where I am.


5 bad habits I have:
1. I'm lazy. (I procrastinate a lot.)
2. I'm greedy (but I try to not be)
3. I'm long-winded (I like to have a big set up to questions and answer them in the most obvious way possible - people hate that).
4. I'm impatient. (Never was good at teaching)
5. I'm insecure (Or at least I think I am. Wait...am I? Huh?)


5 things I like doing:
1. People watch.
2. Reading.
3. Have a good debate/argument.
4. Spooning (spooning leads to forking!)
5. Eating.


5 things I would never wear:
1. Pink.
2. What do they call them? Umbrella pants? Parachute Pants? Just really baggy pants.
3. Baseball caps.
4. Drag. I don't think I will look good. Although a lot of people have been telling me I should. I'd make an okay looking girl. Ouch.
5. A muumuu. How would anyone know how gorgeous I am?

5 TV shows that I like:
1. Heroes. (I absolutely cannot miss one. I will die if I do.)
2. Lost (Only on DVD though. I can't watch it on TV and wait a week between episodes)
3. Simpsons (Only the earlier seasons. Anything recent is questionable)
4. Futurama (Bender <3)>5 famous people I'd like to meet:
1. Bill Gates
2. Jobs and Wozniak
3. Zach Braff
4. Margaret Cho
5. Bush. (I think he'd be VERY interesting)


5 biggest joys at the moment:
1. Being involved in the community
2. Having people I can trust and depend on.
3. Beginning to be financially independent.
4. Working in the field I'm interested in (not necessarily as the job I'm interested in)
5. Having a boyfriend who is sharp but also cares for me. Also, its great to tell guys I'm taken. Sorry, should have hit me up earlier!


5 favourite toys:
1. My Macbook
2. The Internet
3. My digital camera
4. My iPod
5. Chris


5 people to tag:
I don't even know five bloggers. So I'll tag everyone. TAG, YOU'RE IT!

So there's this guy I know online who I talk to sometimes. We're purely online friends and I know that because of this, we don't really know each other except for the superficial fronts we put up online.

Every once in a while [all the time] he talks about how lonely he is and how much he wishes he had a boyfriend. He says I'm lucky for having one. And, although I'd like to be considered lucky to have a boyfriend - and I feel that I am for having such a great one as Chris - I generally hate self-loathing and just all around complaining. Sure, there's a time for that but when it happens every night, not my cup of tea.

This kid is still in high school, a senior if I'm not mistaken. No wait, junior? Well, whatever. He's 17 and still in high school. And he's Asian - which makes a difference in this post. I remember back in high school when I had low(er) self esteem. When I thought that I was ugly and fact and awkward and everyone was either better, more popular, fitter, or generally an all around better human being than I am namely because I grew up in a white suburban neighborhood. You know, that one token Asian kid, not to mention - gay. Which made me a minority of a minority. It wasn't cool beans, not at all.

So I thought I could relate to the kid. You know, tell him that I suffered through the same things too. Blah blah blah. Show him what things to expect when he goes to college.

Today, however, he said something quite strange and I didn't really know how to respond. We weren't even talking and he pops up in an IM conversation and says, "I need the company of gay guys now."

me: huh?
him: I just want to hang out with some gay guys. I just have that urge.
me: oh. Well, its late at night so good luck finding anyone.
him: I want to hang out with some white bread.
me: huh? White gay guys?
him: yeah.
me: Uh...okay
him: sorry
me: Why sorry?
him: I'm bothering you.
me: You weren't. You're just being weird.
him: and lonely.
me: and obviously horny.
him: hey, I just wanted to hang out. Nothing more. Just chill
me: then I'm confused as to why they had to be white gay guys.
him: I don't know.
me: yeah, thats weird.
him: yeah.

I mean, sure I'm not one to say anything since I've only been with white guys [more specifically - Irish - but I have made out with a Jew before][and incidentally, so has this guy - the same Jew]. But when it just comes to chilling with people, I don't make much differentiation. Gender, race, social background. I only discriminate against language [good English only], good music and personality-wise. Otherwise, I'm fine. I wouldn't call him [lets call him Randy], I wouldn't call Randy a racist. But I'm still confused at what I should have said there if anything at all. And I guess by not responding is a response also.

Sure, I still feel awkward and ugly sometimes in this white nation [however somewhat diluted in college] I have never felt so awkward and bad about my image as to impede on my social life. I still manage to find boyfriends. And I try to keep the fact that I may be a fetish to some of my boyfriends by thinking that everyone else must also be a fetish in a way. Twinks, bears, tops and bottoms. Believe me, if there's anything impeding on my social life, its just my wallflowery and my striking good looks?

You're jealous, admit it.

Just got home from Rob's birthday party. No matter how many times I say that or see it, I can't get over the whole "7 year old" connotation. No, we did not play Nintendo or tag. We drank and Rob was rubbing himself against everyone.

Come to think of it, I wasn't too keen on going in the first place because I'm tired and I just don't feel like doing anything. But I think the party helped me. I was the designated driver so I didn't drink but I talked to a lot of drinkers.

I'm a wallflower. But I do it with grace. I did socialize though. And I was invited to another party. And when I left, hugs were had. I have to train myself, though, to be less of a wallflower and more of a social hunny bee.

I'm tired. Good night.

Today I threw everything to the wind. Not literally though, because that would be a very bad choice of actions on my part. But metaphorically speaking, I'm naked.

Firstly, I did not bring my cellphone nor wallet to school today. Right now, I only have my student ID and my train pass with me as well as my bookbag and my body. I figured that my train pass gets me from here to there quite efficiently. My student ID allows me to enter various buildings of which I do not want to enter in the first place. My bookbag has books and all that I can see if I really need cash. And my body that I can use very well to further rake in cash if I needed it. What? You don't believe me?

Speaking of which, I few days ago I was talking to Chris.

Me: Chris, never get fat.
C: mmmhmmm
Me: But I'm allowed to get fat.
C: No you're not!
Me: But what if I was fat and rich?
C: You're still not allowed.
Me: You don't love me for what I am. You have such high expectations.
C: mmmmhmmmm

So I don't know what time it is unless I'm in a building. Or talking to someone. Which is often since I'm a pussy when it comes to the freezing cold. But its also a problem because I have an officer's meeting tonight at 5:30 PM. Not only can't I judge the time but I can't also call them and say that I don't know where the meeting is going to be held. I mean, throw me a bone here. Will someone please come to the goddamn office? Or at least go online? Bah.

I'm in the office now typing this up after spending about 2.5 hours reading blogs. And you know which one. But Enough About You. I'm almost to the end of the blog. How is it so far? Well, I really want to go to London now. Maybe even spend a little time there. Sure, Chris is might fine and sexy and all but wouldn't a boyfriend with an English accent rock the world? And he'll probably comment on my American accent. Hehe.

I threw my physics homework in the wind. As in I did not do it yet. But I'm going to a physics recitation soon so that means I'll have most of it done by them and I can submit it online later.

Maybe Deanna was right. Maybe we should start hitting up the gym. I do feel fat. I've been sitting here reading blogs and eating chips. But I've been drinking water, that's got to count for something. Right!?

Snow. Ugh. But I saw Chris today. I gave him the card. And I told him that he has a nice penis. I mean. Uh. Pfft. Fuck it. I'm tired. But today is my first Valentine's Day with a male Valentine. Which has got to be worth something, right?

Call me crazy but I took an online quiz to see if there's someone else I am more compatible with. And here he she is. I remembered picking that I wanted to date a SUPER MAN. Not a SUPER WOMAN. Oh well. Love is blind, right?

PS. PLZ BRING BACK SPRING. ITS SOOOOO COLD.

It's only 11:00 in the morning and I am already fuming.

Take a look outside and you'll see white. Lots and lots of white. Your bones will shiver, you would instantly wish you're in some place warm like Bora Bora or something. People will pass by covered from head to toe except for a little spot on their faces where we can see wind burns - red and painful. The threat of ice, snow and sleet, the cloud that hung over me as I drove my car hoping that it did indeed stop whenever I wanted it to stop.

And yet, despite all of this, my school is not closed. Nope. They even put a big sign on the webpage - Classes are as scheduled simply because there are crews out there clearing the roads. That's great and all but it doesn't help me WHEN I FUCKING HAVE TO COMMUTE TO SCHOOL. fuck goddamn motherfucker. fuck.

Chris' university is closed. My brother's schools are closed. Temple University has to be a goddamn bitch and remain open. Betch, close those legs doors.

But thats not really has gotten me upset.

Today when I was outside shoveling the snow, I came back inside before I was finished because I didn't want to shovel something if its just going to snow some more. There was already hail falling and it was 7:00 in the morning. Not my cup of tea. Not cute at all. So I went inside and checked the website to see if my school is closed. Nope. Negative. My dad wakes up and I ask him if I should shovel some more or if I should just wait for it to warm up a little bit. He told me to wait, no point. So I went to shower because snow or no snow - I had classes*.

*See previous rant about school.

When I came out of the shower my father starts yelling at me. "Next time, shower before I wake up. Because I had to use the bathroom and I couldn't because you were there."

Me: But there's two full bathrooms in this house!
Father: I really had to use the bathrooms. And next time, if you're going to do a half assed job shoveling, don't bother.
Me: Well, I came in and asked you if I should continue and you said I didn't have to. That's why its incomplete.
Father: But you just shoveled to your car!
Me: And to your car and to mom's car. I went to stop because I have classes to go t.
Führer: Next time, just don't bother.

If there's ever a compelling reason to move out, it is today. And I don't think the tenses match but I don't care anyway. I'm throwing grammar down the drain. No time for grammar! Only anger! Where are the Sith Lords when I need them?

I will move out. No more of this crap. Coming from a guy who doesn't even work. Who sits around the house all day and yells at me or doesn't talk to me (much less anyone).

Oh, Happy Valentines. Doesn't look like I'll be able to see Chris today. I mean, what with the weather and the threat of dying EVERYWHERE.

Ugh.

Sometimes I would tell Chris that I'm reading blogs. Or he'll ask me what I've been up to and I'll tell him that I've been reading blogs and he'll just get this "Pfft" attitude. Chris does not understand my obsession with blog reading. I don't really understand it either. But I like it.

Maybe I'm just a voyeur. I just like to see how people live. It's sort of a noble attempt at amateur anthropology (or at least I would like to think s0). What's anthropology? Its a new science - the study of humanity. Why people do the things they do, how they react in certain situations and stuff like that. Although I'm not spying on them through their bedroom curtains and taking notes, I am, however, looking sometimes directly into their minds and through the blogs, find elements that are universal for most of us.

I really like reading blogs that have ended. Sometimes I'll find one that the author has gracefully ended and I just kind of feel a sort of glee inside (not in a creepy sense) and start all the way at the beginning knowing in my mind that it will all end. Plus, its more like reading a book this way - with a definite beginning and end.

NOTE: If you're going to say something about "blogs are a representation of life and life neither has a beginning nor an end." then I will have to defenestrate you. Or just say "bah!". Blogs are a memory of our memory, an act we participate in - a revealing of our internal flesh, we can always choose to open and close these doors into ourselves. Life, on the other hand, goes on. Blogs - do not.

Sorry about last night's post. I might take it down later.

But to lighten the mood a little, I will post my top five....books I want to (re)read.

1. Sputnik Sweetheart//Haruki Murakami - My favorite book ever and Deanna currently has possession of it. Hopefully I will get it back soon. Its told through the eyes of a male character but the main character is this girl who falls in love with an older woman. I love Murakami's writing. Although this one is more down to Earth. But if you ever read Murakami, that's not saying much.

2. Lullaby//Chuck Palahnuik - I love Chuck. Well, not love love, but think his books are awesome. Chris doesn't believe so, but whatev. Lullaby is about a guy who finds a magic phrase with great power. Then I think he finds other phrases too and then it gets interesting.

3. Birdman//Mo Hayder - I just heard about this now. Apparently, its about this serial killer with some necrophilia thrown in. Sounds interesting, no?

4. A Raw Youth//Fyodor Dostoyevski - I've been meaning to read this for a long time. I've started a few times but haven't really gotten into it because I've been too busy. Despite being the name of one of the blogs I frequent, I really enjoyed Dostoyevski's Crime and Punishment.

5. School books//Various Authors - Plus the school books I have to read. Like Asian geography and holocaust novels. And science books. But seriously, who reads science books? Pfft. You just know it. Or go to class.

The end. I'm tired.

You don't know how many blogger entries I write in here that I never publish. I simply ctrl+A and delete them from the screen. I'll write them to almost completion but then I'll re-read it and find that what I wrote down isn't what I want to display to the world or isn't really an accurate representation of what I really stand for or how I feel anymore.

This post borders on that line too, ironically.

But in other news, I'm going to a Battle of the Bands this Friday that my friend is playing in. I had always wanted to go to a Battle of the Bands back in high school but for some reason it never really materialized. In college, its not really one of my bigger aspirations anymore but I'm still looking forward to it.

BAH. Fuck it.

As I was sitting inside the Common Ground office seeking shelter for the horrid cold outside (more on that later), a memory found its way up from the depths of my subconscious and I think I should share it with you guys.

When I was in high school I used to work as a cashier at a supermarket. It was Genuardi's Supermarkets, although the company was owned by another - Safeway. I always thought that Genuardi's sounded and looked better than the generic looking "Safeway". And yes, you pronounce it Gen-ar-di's. There's no Gen-U-ar-di's. Or whatever you were thinking. Wrong.

Anyway, I used to work there and I'm not sure if anyone else has worked as a cashier before but its oddly therapeutic in a weird twisted sense. Kind of similar to S/M but not so whippish. What do I mean? Well, it was so interesting to watch people move in and out of the queue. Everyone with their own separate agenda and their own needs and wants. This person has toliet paper and the other guy has apples. And every transaction was like a short mini-conversation even if there were no words exchanged except for the total price and a brief "thanks" at the end.

Don't get me wrong, I completely hated the job and I would moan everytime I had to go to work. I would find ways of not going to work or leave so that I would get to work exactly on time so that I didn't spend more time there than was necessary. I hated the bosses and I hated some of the customers who came in and excepted things that were unfit for such a estabilishment. At times, I felt like taking my precious, precious pen (and we all know how precious pens are in a workplace) and stabbing a rude customer in the eye.

However, the memory. Right. This memory involved one specific woman. I can't really recall her face very clearly anymore but I remember that she was about late thirties to early forties. This is the only part that I choose to believe is fact. I can't believe that I remembered she wore a fur coat and had fake eye lashes. I probably just made that up just now. I don't know. Anyway, she was purchasing cigarretts or something and when you buy cigarrettes you need to present your ID (since you can only buy cigarrettes if you're 18 years or older). But common sense tells you that if a woman looks late thirties and early forties, they are 18 years old or older. C'mon, let's not be a dumbass here.

But this particular night, I wasn't really paying attention because after a while the motions become automatic, the smiles prerendered and plastered on my face. I rang up the smokes and asked for her ID. She looked so startled as if I had asked her if she really liked chocolates or does she just pretend. Quite instantly a smile appeared on her face as she proudly whips out her ID and presents it to me. Of course, by this time I had realized my mistake and I was very embarrassed. I thought she would have been offended. But instead, after careful inspection of her ID and checking to see whether or not it was a fake, I handed it back to her and she said, "Thanks for checking my ID. No, really. Thanks." and it sounded sincere. Very sincere.

As she left the line, I noticed a little bounce in her steps. Perhaps she will later realize that I just wasn't paying attention and I wasn't paying her a compliment. But, honestly, I would prefer if she remembered me as the boy who asked her ID to see if she was really 18 or older.

Do you think she remembers me? Do you think the moral of this story is that, indeed, fantasy and illusion is better than reality? Is everything in our mind? Reality is filtered through our mental prisim and is refracted back as all rainbow and unicorns?

Occasionally after that incident, I would joke with subsequent ladies who went in and purchased cigarrettes. And I would always seem like the courteous young gentleman. But in reality, I just made one mistake which turned out for the better.

PS. It is effin cold outside. Like, walking to classes makes my legs numb. I want to die.

PSS. I only worked at that supermarket for six months in which I quit and became a member of the staff at the local public library.

I've fallen into the hole again. I'm not coming out until I'm ready. My school work is going to suffer and my IM conversations are going to be empty and unsatisfying.

What? You might say. Well, let me tell you something. I am a voyeuristic freak. I love to read blogs. The last time this happened, instead of curling in bed with a good book before bed, I took out my PSP and curled in bed while reading someone's blog from the first post all the way to the most recent. Yes. I am that dorky. Why a PSP? Because I don't have anything as small that can go online and I do not feel like snuggling with my MacBook no matter how small and cute it is. Which blog? A Ridiculous Raw Youth. Which blog am I infactuated with now? Which blogger have I considered stalking?

But Enough About You.

Of course I'm in love with the name. It speaks of pretentiousness that only I can dream of. But its also an interesting account of life in, from what I gathered from the first two months, London.

Its funny reading blogs from the very beginning. Sometimes it feels like a conversation between good friends. Other times, it feels like looking through a telescope and watching a tribe of aliens discover fire and yet other times it feels like sitting in a classroom learning about some boring subject only to find myself grateful later that listened and learned the lesson already. Only But Enough About You is discontinued, killed, no longer updated. And that makes me sad. But it also makes it feel more like a book, with a beginning and a definite ending.

In other news, I've got a case of the mondays. On Sunday night. UGH.

PS. No, I did not care about the super bowl. Thanks for asking.