::Twitch::

::Twitch::

::Twitch::

...The... Secret... Life... of the American... TEENAGER?!?!?!

...THE SECRET... LIFE... OF THE... AMERICAN TEENAGER?!?!?!?!?!

ABC FAMILY, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU.

YOU KNOW WHAT.

F--K YOU, AMERICAN TELEVISION.

I GIVE UP.

I'M GOING BACK TO MY BEATNIK CORNER WHERE I CAN SIP MY CAPPUCCINO, THINK ABOUT ANTI-WAR, AND WATCH THE SMURFS IN PEACE, YOU WANKERS.

For those of you have seen my Facebook status, the reason I'm banning myself from Facebook and other such things for the month is because I'm taking a 4-week intensive Ochem class. Allow me to share what that means for my waking hours:

7:30 AM - Wake up, grab a cup of coffee. I'm so desperate for time, I actually pre-made a bottle of iced coffee that sits in my refrigerator. That way, I can just pour myself a glass, maybe grab a slice of toast, and be done with breakfast.

8 AM - It's a 15 minute walk to my lecture hall, so I'm out the door as soon as my teeth are brushed and I have my books. Depending on the day, I'll either have ALL my books, including my laptop. It doesn't matter how cold it is when I leave - I'll be sweating by the time I get to Thaw Hall (badum-CHH).

8:30-10:25 - Time for Organic Chemistry II. Four weeks straight of it. That means I repeat steps 1-3 every single day, and will until July 4th weekend. Oi. Lecture isn't so bad. I really like my professor, and surprisingly enough, I still remember SOME things from Orgo I. It's just a lot of information in only 2 hours, and by the end of it, I wish I had punched myself into a state of unconsciousness about 3 hours ago.

Depending on if it's MW or TTh, things switch up a little bit, so we'll go with MW, first.

10:30-2:00 - "Break" time. That means, I head over to the computer lab and study or do homework. Right now, I don't think I can handle any more reactions, so I'm taking a break until 2, when I head over to the engineering building for Statistics and Probability. That's right, kids. I've been up and about from 7:30 - 1:30. No breaks. UUUUUGGGHHHHHHHH.

2:30-4:30 - Prob/Stat. You know what's really ironic? That my professor is an Industrial Engineer, but has no concept of organization. Har har har. I think that's all that needs to be said on that subject.

4:30-6 - Another break. Today, that likely means I'll be doing more OChem to catch up.

6-9:15 - Writing for the Public. Great class. Great instructor (this grad student who reminds me of a slightly more chill version of Ian Russell). But it is SOOOOO INVOOOOOLLLLVVVEEED. Every class has a new assignment that's at least 500-words long. Sure, I can churn that out, but not to any degree of talent. Plus - I *do* have other responsibilities.

9:30-...Whenever I manage to fall asleep. What do you think? That's right. Work.

---

Tuesday/Thursday

10:30-12:15 - Diff Eq. Now, for those of you who remember when my ochem class ends, you may be asking. "Wait. So... where are your classes in relation to one another?" Hah. About 2-3 blocks from each other. My Diff Eq class is on the 8th floor of the engineering building. So me and this other girl are literally sprinting for Benedum, praying we can catch an elevator. Diff Eq itself isn't so bad. It's probably the only class I actually understand, right about now. Ironic, ain't it?

12:30 - . Actually, I'm done for the day. But, again, that means working until I pass out from heat or from tiredness.

To be honest - I shirked a lot of work yesterday b/c I was dumb enough to stay in my room and try to get anything done. First. That thing is a SAUNA. Second - I don't even have a proper desk. The girl who I'm subletting from is a Physics major, so I get this feeling she finished most of her necessary math courses - i.e., all the ones that require a s***load of space to spread out her textbooks and notes. That becomes problematic, because it means I can only really study while I'm on campus. Since I live in the city, staying out at night and walking home in the dark is a big no-no. That means, it's really difficult to do math or chem homework while I'm in my room. No kitchen table (That's barely bigger than my desk. Our kitchen is tiny)

And Fridays are a lot like Thursdays, except class doesn't start until 11. Phew.

When I told my Ochem professor this, she kind of gave me this look like, "...May the Force be with you."

::Crash::

Well, I am back at school now, and I have to say... Actually, I dunno what I have to say. Prob/Stat is as teeth-grinding-ly boring as I thought it would be. I'm pleasantly surprised with how much I like my Diff Eq professor. I'm not sure when I got used to accents, but when he raised our attention to the fact that he has a Russian accent, and wanted to know on average how much we could understand his English, I found myself thinking... "Nope. I still got that. 100%."

And, as per usual, I'm enamored with my writing class. This time, it's Writing for the Public: Risk Communication. I literally signed up for the class having no idea what it was about, except that it would fulfill my W requirement. The instructor is a teaching fellow going for his PhD in risk communication and management. He... kind of reminds me of an older and less spastic version of Ian. I have a 3-page memo due Monday on any risk communication of my choice, so I'm going to look at the esoteric nature of science and how that's contributed to the public reaction to diseases like SARS and avian flu (in other words, "Look, we can't even agree with ourselves. How the f--- do you expect us to report something substantial to you. So shut up, you manic morons.")

Anyway. I haven't done anything about... certain letters to certain people, yet. I think I'll wait on that a little bit longer... no point in acting on it right now, especially when I'm still sorting things out.

And. Scott is now married. This is so weird. I'm pretty disappointed that I didn't make it to the wedding, but as you might've noticed, I'm here.

I... guess that's what growing up is?

...reasons to appreciate Eddie Izzard's wit.

The people who made toasters also made my shower. For it has a turny button. And it lies to me.

You swivel, swivel, nudge for hot. And swivel, swivel, nudge for cold. But the only setting I'm interested in is between here --> || <-- and there. ONE FREAKING NANOMETER between EXTREMELY FRICKIN' HOT and fan-TASTICALLY FREEZING.

AND IT DOESN'T END THERE! OOOOOOH NO. My shower will occasionally deem me unworthy of hot water, and in the midst of a nice washing, the temperature will drop of it's own free will. Then, out of the blue, it will suddenly shoot up again, and lo and behold, I am a boiled lobster!!!

But, otherwise, it isn't too bad. It's a lot of nice space to myself, and no one in the neighborhood really bothers me. You should all visit. *puppy dog eyes*

The job is nice, too. Thus far, I've only been reading previous reports on PHAs (process hazard analyses) and other process safety management tidbits. My supervisor has also been really helpful and nice for these past two weeks, though I'll be excited when I finally get to do some work. I'm a little jealous. Katie got a research position back at school and gets to be a lab rat for 10 hours while I'm doing data entry.

More to come later!

---

Also. I hereby forever assert that Kikkoman soy sauce is RUBBISH. PURE RUBBISH.

So.

In an attempt to recall a memory from my childhood (required for a Creative Writing assignment).

I... er... Just read my DearDiary from our freshman year.

Fuh-HUCK, that was painful.

...That is all.

Conversation I overhead before Calculus class:

Asian Girl: So what's the point of the game?
Obnoxious Boy: For fun?
Asian Girl: ...That's no good.
Obnoxious Boy: Sure it is.
Asian Girl: No. It has to be for money.


o___O

Omadsl;kfj./,mcvb

Continued:

Obnoxious Boy: But you have to use the money for something
Asian Girl: Yeah. Necessities. Only sleep is fun.
Obnoxious Boy: ...Sleeping isn't fun.
Asian Girl: Sure it is. You can dream.


O__O

Oh. My. GOD, this girl is so depressingly pragmatic it makes me want to cry.

I got punched in the face by my ability to be Karen Eiffel.

I mean. F--K. Really. I kind of feel bad, because this only happens when I write tragedies. It always parallels with something going on in one of my friends' lives...

Blah.

Also got punched in the face by the fact that my roommate is leaving Pitt. She visited Amherst and Brown this weekend, fell in love, and realized that the Sociology dept here sucks (well. okay, not in that order). Really - if you have friends who want to go into a liberal arts major and want to come here - JUST SAY NO (unless it's linguistics... then we're cool.)

But, yeah. She's taking the year off and leaving Pitt... She told me the other night and I kind of just went slack-jawed. Neeerrrrrr.

Also.

I found Elise's twin. I mean Zab. Yeah. Seriously. I found your twin. Her name is Katie, and every time we think about going out, I'm like, "That's something Elise would do. Yup."

Except she speaks Russian. And really likes classical piano... ...That's... about it. But yeah. Molecular biology major. It's weird.

"I'm sorry, but what does 'orthogonal' mean?"
"The point is a 90˚ from the plane."
"...So why don't you just say 'perpendicular'?"
"...'Orthogonal' have 4 syllables. 'Perpendicular' have 5. I say orthogonal."

Oh, Mr. Kijewski and his asian professor. I miss his anecdotes.

The other day, my calculus professor actually used 'orthogonal' in a sentence without blinking an eye. And then proceeded to do so for the rest of the lecture. Not to mention... the guy is Chinese.

*snicker*

I accidentally scared one of my students today. They were supposed to e-mail me this past week so that I could have them in my address book w/o stalking them on the Pitt directory. A few of them forgot, so I e-mailed them all anyway, and at one point was like, "For everyone who remembered, you get a cookie. Everyone else - AHEM!!!"

So he e-mails me back, apologizing profusely and showing me his entire schedule, and proceeding to apologize again for being so busy.

*snickerx2*

It's good to be king. :D

1.) More open mindedness.

^^^Well that fantastically punched me in the face today.

I'm coming home from class around 9 P. I had missed a call from Katie to go salsa dancing (I wouldn't have been able to go any way - seeing as I have to be up at 7:30 tomorrow morning), and I'm ridiculously hungry. Point being - I was already in a bit of a sore mood. I'm handing my ID to the security guard when she asks me, "Where are you from originally?"

Me: "...Minnesota?"
Her: "No, I mean -originally-"
...

Me: *sigh* "Taiwan."

And as if that wasn't bad enough, she then further adds: "Oh. I had a student from Korea once. You remind me of her."

FACE-PUNCH x INFINITY.

I HAVE TO JUMP TO GET INTO MY BED. DX !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

NOT HAPPY! My mattress actually is as high as my chest, so I have to literally throw my leg OVER the bed to pull myself up. And I can't even just hop up, because Sarah's bed is RIGHT above it, so I'd probably give myself a concussion in the process.

GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRGGGGGH!

Otherwise, this room is freaking amazing. It's like living in a hotel, only not on $300 per night. X3

Freshman Engr Orientation was today. Pretty standard. I got to meet all my students, which was really fabulous, and really overwhelming at the same time. As per usual, I just blabbed on and on and on about retardedness because I can't speak in front of a large group without looking like a valley girl.

ALSO - while walking around:

Jonathan: Is your shirt inside out?
Me: Naaaahh... it's just made that way.
... Minutes later

::sees tag::

...

Me: Oh. Wow. Juuuuust kidding. It is inside out.

*headdesk*

That was probably the worst of it. Everyone was really cool. There's one girl who I think I may fall in love with because she was just so happy and inquisitive. Oooooh, people like her are going to make my life easy.

So excited for class to start!

Anyone have any nifty icebreaker games?

Being at home actually drives me up the wall.

I am angry at myself for not being "marketable".

And.

My mom just referred to her new lamp as a "boob". People wonder where I get it from?

I should be writing my final paper for Tudor England right now (why is it that I always get distracted when I write stuff for this class?)

The other day, Michael came to my room and sat down on the bed. "What would you do if you found something?" he asked me calmly. Still, there was a bright grin stretched across his face. I asked him what he meant, or what he'd found. Something to that effect. Before he had a chance to answer, my friend Nicole popped into the room, just to chat a little and say hello.

Michael slipped something into my hand behind my back. All I could tell was that it was long and a bit lumpy. I decided not to look at it until Nicole and Elise left the room, so I let it sit tightly in my hand, my fingers trying to discern the shape.

After some time, the two leave the room, and I look at my hand.

There's a gold necklace sitting in it. I stare at it in jaw-drop awe. The thing isn't even a thin chain, and it has a good deal of weight to it. Unable to even utter a thank you, the first thing that comes out of my mouth is, "You found this?" Nod. "On the street?" Nod.

"...I... can't keep this."

His shoulders slump. He turns the chain over in his hand a few times. "Okay," he says. "I figured you'd think the same thing." A few more times. "Let me just see it on you."

In no way is it something I would usually wear, but I try it anyway, as if it would change either of our minds. We sit there for a little, then eventually decide to drop it off at the campus police station. We arrive, only to find that the station has been deserted. That already in itself is somewhat disheartening. Michael expresses his fear that the person who has lost this necklace probably won't get it back. We head to the dining hall to pick up some food, and on the way, we catch a cop. Michael gives him the necklace. He doesn't even ask where we found it.

We're now pretty positive that the owner won't find it.

We pick up some sushi. Michael is relatively quiet. I feel bad. We both brush it off. Michael smiles and asks me what kind of jewelry I usually wear. I laugh and tell him "very little."

As we head back home, I see one of the panhandlers in the distance, holding some strange threads against his arm. I squint and think to myself, "No...."

His arm is covered in the necklaces.

We both laugh hard. "Feel better?" I ask. "Much."

Moral of the story?

Every cloud had a silverfaux gold lining.

I am sincerely anticipating the day someone spells my name "Vyktouria." Srsly.

You know what my favorite part of waking up today was?

Both the window being pulled completely down (as opposed to up - it's how we open them) and the heater being on.

Neither of them even remotely of my doing, unless I reached over my bed and turned on the heater in my sleep. I'd be impressed, even for me.

But you know how I know it's not me?

Sealise on the top bunk, completely wrapped up in their (yes - their) comforter, snuggling for body warmth. This never happens. They've always kicked off the comforter and only use the sheet because when I use the heater, it's "too hot".

Even more ironic - neither of them was wearing pants.

Hm. Here's a thought. How about, when the weather is below 50 degrees, you DON'T leave the window wide open? That way, you don't freeze, and you stop wasting energy!!! :D :D :D :D :) :) :| >:|

^^^ The transition of my sanity.

The bed is shaking.

It is 4:22 PM.

No, they're not having sex, but I did get sexiled at 3 PM last week.

I hate you, Sean Martin Malloy. With the burning passion of a thousand white-hot suns.

---

It's 60˚F out today, the warmest Pittsburgh has been since I got back from winter vaca. I have no real desire to work, and I spent about 1 hour clearing out my desk so that I don't have to deal with it when I move out.

To think I only moved into this dorm last August. One year of college is almost over. Next year I'll be a Freshman Peer Adviser. I'll have a class to teach. It's NUTS. Speaking of - does anyone know where I can get Microsoft Publisher for Mac?

---

For Gwen:

Okay - so on Feb 29th, there was a benefit concert for Lou Gehrig's Disease - otherwise known as LEAP for the Cure. All the a cappella groups on campus gathered together, so on and so forth. Well - since Puppies! is such a new group, they felt they needed something to really make themselves noticeable.

Sean comes to me and says, "So how would you feel if Mike took off his shirt on stage?"

...

"Why..."

Well. Turns out, they wanted me to draw a picture of the logo that was on the LEAP shirts directly on his chest.

Yup.

^^^If you can't see that, check out my "College Fun" album on Facebook.

You can see Ted to the side, wearing the actual shirt.

My boyfriend is my hero.

When he's not busy being a freak.

Shit. I had hoped to post again after my last entry, since it sounded so outrageously "Frick, I'm bitchy today." But my mood sort of never waned.

I have a 4000-word paper due on Tuesday about the polarization of court politics in Tudor England.

I have 300 words to add to a 4500-word paper on biocompatibility, ALSO due Tuesday

And I don't care right now.

---

My boyfriend's name is Shirtless Mike. He walks around the dorm without his shirt off, and no one thinks otherwise of it. In fact, it's almost expected. These Floridian boys...

At first, it was a little awkward for me. Even before we were dating. Seeing a guy with his shirt off just kind of made me blush.

But I've gotten used to it. He's not showing off (Well. Yes he is, because he has a washboard for a stomach). He just... doesn't like shirts.

You know what's ironic? I saw one of my other friends without his shirt off, and I felt my cheeks immediately drop straight to red.

---

1. What ended your last relationship?
Real relationship? Or thingy that I called a relationship? He was using me to boost his ego.

2. When was the last time you shaved your legs?
Let's not talk about that.

3. What were you doing this morning at 8am?
Sleeping.

4. First thought after waking up this morning?
...I set my alarm for 9:00, not 8:45.

5. Are you any good at math?
I'm alright. Kind of have to be. You know... that whole "engineering" thing?

6. Your prom night?
Was non-existent. I opted out of prom in favor of playing RPGs and other pointless shite.

7. Do you have any famous ancestors?
Ish. He was a judge in the Chin Dynasty court.

8. Have you ever taken out a loan to pay for school?
Mm-mm

9. Do you know the words to the song on your myspace profile?
I don't have a myspace.

10. Last thing received in the mail?
Pointless shit from a Collegiate Honors society.

11. How many different beverages have you drank today?
One. Monster. I'm surprised. I expected to be uncomfortably energetic, but I"m just pleasantly awake.

12. Do you ever leave messages on people’s answering machines?
Sometimes.

13. Who did you lose your CONCERT virginity to?
Still a virgin (unless you count school concerts...)

14. Do you draw your name in the sand when you go to the beach?
No. Just turtles and other various life forms.

15. What’s the most painful dental procedure you’ve had?
A cavity without novocaine.

16. What is out your back door?
My backyard...

17. Do you have any plans for tonight?
Writing the rest of my paper and maybe watching Enchanted with Sarah

18. Do you like the ocean?
Yeah, but he hates me (And yes - I really did just say "he")

19. Have you ever received one of those big tins of 3 different popcorn?
What?

20. Have you ever been to a planetarium?
Probably. It's like the quintessential middle class elementary school trip.

22. Something you are excited about?
Michael getting home tomorrow

23. What is your favorite flavor of JELLO?
The green kind with bananas

24. Are any of your great-grandparents still alive?
Nope.

25. Describe your keys:
My car keys are at home. My door key is actually an ID card... with a picture that looks nothing like me.

26. Where do you keep your change?
Everywhere imaginable. Usually a cute little monkey change purse.

27. When was the last time you spoke in front of a large group of people?
Dunno, but I have an engineering conference this Saturday! @___@

28. What color of winter coat do you have?
Bright red!

29. What was the weather like on your graduation?
I... forget. Rainy, I guess.

30. Do you sleep with the door to your room open or closed?
Well, unfortunately, the door to my room is left slightly ajar so that the husband can sneak into bed at 3 in the fucking morning. Good thing rapists don't live in Forbes Hall.

...Home of the Panthers Mentally Incapable.

This Monday, upon handing in my requested schedule, the head of the Undergraduate Chemical Engineering Department said that there was nothing wrong with the way that my schedule was set up.

Well.

He was wrong.

Lo and behold, two days later, the woman who registers the classes e-mailed me, stating that half the classes I'd chosen didn't work. Apparently, I not only had a missed a required recitation, which ended up coinciding with my writing elective, but I couldn't take a Foundations of Chem E class because I didn't have the required pre-req (which is actually a lie - it just didn't register because I took an honors class in its stead - which is NOT a good excuse for the screw up).

On top of that, I was registered for an OChem lecture, but NOT the lab because I needed departmental consent? Wow.

Went to the registration office today to get it straightened out. Most everything is set now, except for one thing.

My OChem lab. All the sections had filled up in the time it took for me to figure out the issue, that I had put 10478 instead of 11478 into the form, yet still had said 0330 ORGANIC CHEMISTRY LAB, FUCKTARDS. NOT ASTRONOMY.

Now, I don't have a registered lab. Went to the chem department to see if I could get an override, whereupon arrival to the office, I discovered that ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY-TWO STUDENTS are being put on a waitlist for instructor approval into the class.

So.

I ultimately decided that, like 14, 20 is a crap age. You're done being a teenager, but no one actually considers you an adult yet. It's like being 21 without any perks.

And.

We're going to be 20 this year.

Shit.

Everyone has things they blog about. Everyone has things they don't blog about. Challenge me out of my comfort zone by telling me something I don't blog about, but you'd like to hear about, and I'll write a post about it. Ask for anything: latest movie watched, last book read, political leanings, thoughts on something, favorite type of underwear, explain an interest, whatever. Repost in your own journal so that we can all learn more about each other.

Normally when something comes back, I assume we call it the rebirth, or regrowth. But what do you call it when you get calluses? I guess you could call it a regrowth, but nothing is really regrowing, per se. It's just the tips of my fingers turning rough again.

Hence. The re-death.

In between my work and attempts to hold normal conversations with my parents (speaking of, my mother's reaction upon finding out about my significant other were... expected, to say the least), I tried to teach myself guitar. What I got out of it were a few arbitrary "chords" (more like tabulature) and two hands worth of sore fingertips.

You know what's awesome about stinging sensations? You think they'll go away. Realistically, they just get worse the next day.

While the prospect of an entire week at the Farmhouse seems like a side trip to paradise, actually living here is a bit like residing in a gilded cage. Sure, I have wireless internet, but there's virtually nothing to do except play around with the guitar and watch some old films. Not to mention - I still have a normal week's workload to finish.

And no car. No freaking car.

Though - getting to fool around with the guitar without care is a nice feeling. Only Dillon has a guitar back at the dorm that I dont' feel bad about borrowing, but he's growing more attached to it. If only the piano was here. Then it might be a little more blissful.

I think I had something quasi/pseudo-profound to spout off. At least, last night I did. But it kind of disappeared when I decided that staying up until 12:30 (HAH.) was a good idea. Seriously. 12:30? I think 2 AM is my normal bed time now. This is mildly pathetic. Though. I have to admit - I do prefer this to the 10:30 PM - 6 AM rise back in high school.

Cripes, was that hell.

Mmmkay, now this is making no sense, and I'm spiraling into stream of consciousness.