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Just__Jen
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Name: Jennifer
Country: United States
State: California
Metro: Los Angeles
Gender: Female
Interests: Adrenaline rushes, bookstores, breezy weather, feeling important and powerful, interesting conversations, movies, music, obsessive compulsive disorder, organizing, puzzles, road trips, roller coasters, shopping, traveling
Expertise: Myself
Message: message me
Member Since:
12/13/2003
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| Nineteen Years Old"Hehe, you're turning nineteen years old on the nineteenth! Hehe! /snort/" I heard this line from various people throughout the week before my birthday who thought that phrase was hilariously nifty. Please, my mom could probably come up with something funnier and more clever.
So today is the nineteenth anniversary of my being expelled from my mother's uterus. For those of you who did not understand the context in the previous sentence, it is my nineteenth birthday. I don't know about you, but to me, nineteen seems like a pretty unexciting age, except that it's my last "-teen" year. There's just not much to being nineteen--I'm not eighteen anymore (when I felt like I was suddenly entitled to many tremendous unfettered freedoms, but in reality, it was not as great as I had imagined) and I'm not quite twenty-one yet (when I can do all those things I could suddenly do when I turned eighteen plus legally purchase and consume alcohol... not that I practice underaged drinking...). The only thing I look forward to is the money I receive in addition to my Chinese New Years' money so that I can rub it into my siblings' faces that I have more money than they. Just kidding.
Anyways, happy birthday to me. I am going to enjoy this day even if turning nineteen years of age does not exactly make me want to whoop with joy and go streaking across a football field. After all, I get to be nineteen years old for only 366 days (2008 is a leap year in case it slipped your mind) of my life. 
What's the best way to celebrate a nineteenth birthday? My math professor thinks announcing that there will be a midterm this Friday will yield the best results. If I remember correctly, that kind of newbie move is called "shitting on someone's day". Maybe I should shit on her day... or have pigeons do it because everyone knows that they're the most qualified candidates for this kind of duty (doo-ty?).
But seriously, what is the best way to celebrate a nineteenth birthday? | | |
| What would you do if someone broke into your home while you were sleeping?Instead of handing him/her an extra special can of whoop-ass, I'd give that person my whole life savings and let that person steal my identity because anyone who manages to successfully find a way past my front gate deserves major props. This burglar has obviously got some M4D SK1LLZ.
I just answered this Featured Question, you can answer it too! | | |
| Highlights of Fall QuarterContrary to popular belief by some people that I would get my ass
kicked by academia, I got through my first quarter of college, and I'm
still alive and kicking. Yay... amazing, isn't it? Fall quarter was
filled with fun, excitement, gossip, drama, annoyance, anger, hate,
minimal studying--whatever you name, it's probably in that list. I
grew to really like some people, and I grew to really despise others,
but I guess that's no surprise coming from me. I think college has
turned me into an angrier and more cynical person (probably because of
all the dumb, annoying fucks I encounter on a daily basis). All in
all, the quarter was quite... adventurous.
Letting Loose
When
midterms were all over, a few of my suitemates and I decided to
celebrate by going out to dinner and then back to our suite for a mini
party. We turned off the lights, closed the curtains, cranked up the music (just a little bit), disguised our
wording, and invited some of our friends over to join us. It was all
harmless fun and games until some idiot guy named Trevor decided to
puke off the balcony instead of into the toilet, which prompted the
Residential Security Officer and Residential Advisors to come running
to our suite to see what the hell was going on. Most of us left Trevor
hanging as we ran into the rooms, turned off the lights, and pretended
we weren't there while we listened to the RSO question Trevor about his
behavior. Although we didn't get written up, I'm pretty sure we're not
on good terms with the RSO.
Finding a Fifty Dollar Bill
One day I was eating at Sierra Summit over at John Muir College with my
a friend, Maggie, when I dropped my napkin. I bent over to pick it up
and right next to my foot was a bill that was folded into fourths. I
picked it up thinking that maybe it was a dollar bill, but to my
dismay, it was a fifty dollar bill. At first, I didn't know what to do
with it, but Maggie imposed the "Finder's Keepers" ideology on me, so I
stuck the bill into my wallet. Of course, finding that money did not
lead to good things for me. The next morning, I woke up feeling like
crap: headache, cough, phelgm, and all that good stuff. Then my
roommate decided to lock me in the closet, and she couldn't get the
door the open because something was wrong with the handle. I
restrained myself from kicking her ass afterwards. Oh, and I tripped
and fell on the same stairs in the exact same spot twice in one day. I
should just give away that fifty bucks.
Procrastination + Minimal Studying = ?
Good
grades for Jennifer! At least that's how it was for me in DOC1. Every
student at Thurgood Marshall College knows what a killer DOC is. We're
forced to buy a $100 reader that's full of stories that make us all
more racist and discriminatory than we were before entering college
because they point out all the little things that we normally wouldn't
think/care about. Knowing me, I didn't touch the reader unless I had
to use it as a reference, such as when I had to write a paper about
either body image or feminism that was worth 25% of my grade. It was
probably not a very good idea for me to do the assignment the day
before it was due, but I somehow managed to crank out about 8 pages of
BS in a few hours. For the final, I looked over the material for only
a few hours before I gave up and rendered studying utterly useless. To
my surprise, my TA thought that I had written a very good paper, and
she ended up giving me an A- for the course. My grade almost made me
feel sorry for those who worked their butts off and actually studied...
only to receive a B. Boo hoo. Life's unfair.
Buying a Nintendo DS
Who
the hell buys a DS right before finals? Well, me, of course--I had to
find a way to cure my boredom in UCSD's socially dead environment.
After I brought the DS back to my room, my roommate and I had an tetris
marathon full of intense competition. Not to brag or anything, but I
totally pwned her ass. I love myself.
Burning of DOC1 Readers
On
Facebook. someone made a group titled "I'm going to light my DOC Reader
on fire at the end of the quarter." which basically invited all DOC
students to burn their readers at Blacks Beach after winter break.
After my DOC1 final last Wednesday, I saw some boys burning their
readers and letting out cries of happiness. I vicariously shared their
joy. I'm still debating whether or not I want to "burn what I didn't
learn."
Finals
Finals
Week is the week many people get high. One morning, I went outside the
the air smelled heavily of weed. People at UCSD are particularly
stranger than usual during Finals Week because they are either so high
that they don't know what they're doing or they are so caught up in
studying that they sometimes forget their daily rituals, i.e. they
don't shower. During Finals Weeks, the Center for Library &
Instructional Computing Services (CLICS) is opened 24/7, so some people
make CLICS their home for the week. So imagine, hundreds of dirty
people cramped in a library; it's body odor galore... yum! Of course,
that's only a rumor that someone
told me. I never actually went to check it out to see whether or not
the myth was true because if it was, I probably would've dropped dead
upon entering the facility. During Finals Week, people are also
unusually aggressive. When I was at Geisel Library, there was a line
just to get onto the elevator, and once the elevator doors opened,
people pushed and shoved their way to the front. If only I could count
the number of times I got titty-slapped and body-slammed.
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| Possible Bomb Threat at SchoolLate this morning, there was a suspicious package found in the Leichtag Family Foundation Biomedical Research Building at the UCSD School of Medicine. The School of Medicine is a completely different world than the rest of UCSD, so I didn't hear anything of it until 3:00 p.m. when I was sitting in class falling asleep while the professor rambled on and on about one of his life stories. Apparently, the school's Animal Sciences Department had been receiving threats from the Animal Liberation Front over accusations about animal experimentation. "According to a UCSD employee, the ALF claimed that a very large bomb would be placed on campus" (KUSI). When I first heard the news, I thought to myself, "Wow, what a great first year of college: fires and bomb threats." I must've brought all this bad luck with me when I moved down to La Jolla.
Turns out, the FBI later determined that the package was fake, so I guess that's the end of that. Boo hoo.
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| ThanksgivingHappy Thanksgiving. First and foremost, I'd just like to say that I am
alive and well. The San Diego fires did not consume me (obviously),
but I am getting buried alive (not really) by homework. Since
Thanksgiving comes only once a year, I thought I'd put all my thanks
out there to show everyone what a grateful, thoughtful, and caring
person I actually am. (Hope none of you choked on that piece of pie
you stole from your mother after reading the last sentence.)
My parents
for getting the great idea to conceive me. If not for them, this world
would be a place devoid of any life, color, and energy. Of course,
they didn't know what they were getting themselves into. They had to
deal with me slipping and falling off the bathroom counter, cutting my
sister's hair when she was sleeping, drawing on my brother's face while
he was sleeping, and throwing lemons at the neighbor's stupid dog. I
wasn't a bad kid, but I guess I can say that I didn't exactly turn out
the way my parents wanted me to.
My friends
because nobody can listen to my fanatic raves about any given subject
better than they can and provide me with feedback or vents of their
own. No one else can compare to the level of competition they provide
when it comes to mahjong. There are no other people I'd rather raise
hell with in my room on the night before some big day. To put it in
simple terms, my friends rock harder than your friends ever will.
That one suitemate/friend
who has made me afraid to go back to my room at the end of the day.
Thanks to her and her "in one ear and out the other" mentality, I can't
count on having any privacy. I also can't count on any of my food to
be uneaten or anything in my room to be untouched because she always
finds a way in. Need I say more? A number of you have heard me
ranting about her and her ridiculously annoying ways. We've all had
one of these. This person is that one person you just can't pull out
of your hair no matter how hard you yank and tug.
My professors
(some) for helping me ensure a good fifty-minute nap on those days when
I've lacked a good night's sleep. Of course, I do wake up in a jolt
when I hear them angrily sputter the occasional "shit" or "fuck"
because I'm afraid that they're directing that towards me for being the
greatest student ever. While we're on the subject of professors, I'd
like to make a public service announcement: please stop googling things
like "jason rosenberg ucsd," "jason rosenberg ucsd mus15," "ucsd mus15
the beatles" and clicking on my xanga, whoever you are. I know you're
trying to find nude pictures or personal information, but I can assure
you that you won't find them here.
Other things I am thankful for:
- Facebook
for being such a great distraction from everything. The "Graffiti
Wall" is just too fun to draw on. Sometimes I forget to eat, sleep,
breathe, and everything else in between... not.
- Television because if not for stupid and trashy but surprisingly addicting shows, I would actually go to sleep.
- Caller ID so that when the phone rings, I can actually see who is calling before I decided whether or not to reject the call.
Now, I must go get my grub on and stuff my face with tons of food minus turkey because turkey is gross (just like yo momma!). Happy Thanksgiving, all.
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