I spent the first/worst part of this week feeling like absolute death.  And then I made it through the IHUM midterm (easier than expected?!?) to Thursday afternoon, the work finished, and like magic everything seemed like happiness and flowers again.  I recovered my self-control and have been eating moderately and working out and sleeping *almost* normal hours...ok, so it's only a 2-day trend, but it's SOMETHING.

...So if I hate work so much (as in the prospect/process of lots of it literally makes me want to give up on life), why the fuck am I at an insanely hard school?

Chi O initiation tomorrow.  Dunno how I feel about that.  After this, I'm in this thing FOR LIFE, yo.  That's a very major deal...I'm committing myself to something for my entire lifetime...and I haven't even thought it through. 

Also all this "secret" rigmarole seems silly and pointless to me.  Who really cares if other people know what we're called between pledging and being initiated, or what the alternate terms for all the officer positions are, or which myth supposedly somehow inspires us?  What's the big deal?  Perhaps I'll have some sort of apotheosis during initiation, all ray-of-sunshine-descending-on-my-head-from-on-high style, and suddenly get it.  Perhaps I'll just have to suppress the snorts of my inner cynic for...the rest of my...life.  (Eep.)

I have this tendency to work myself up into foolishness over irrelevancies, and Andrew is the type of guy who flirts with EVERYONE and his Facebook is irritatingly silent about his relationship status except that he's only looking for "friendship" which gives me bad vibes and who even knows what I'm really thinking (certainly not me).  I don't want to make something out of nothing, because I know I'm going to look back at this and shake my head at how ridiculous and boy-crazy I am.  But I did (try to) sit through a 2-frickin-hour long a capella concert mostly so I could tell him good job so we could have something to keep talking about. However, after the encore and the interminable appreciation ceremony in which basically everyone in Mixed Co got flowers and an adulatory speech from everyone else were finally over, it was after 10:00...and they announce a special number with all their alumni, and that was just the end for me and the Mixed Co concert.  Mission failure (although the concert was really enjoyable...and free :D).  Just my luck, though, who do we cross paths with on the way back to Roble from the DKE Berlin Wall party (borderline between lame, because there was practically noooo one there, and awesome, because of the people who were) but a rather drunk Andrew Chou.  And he's all like Phi Psi and Chi O should have another mixer because that was really fun and you should totally come have lunch at Phi Psi next year and I'm gonna be around Roble a lot more now that I have the time and I hope I see you around...ok, yes, it's random meaningless shit.  I am not my sister, mooning over Kaevan because he gave her a hug.  I refuse to be.  That's just painfully naive and foolish.  But just the fact that he found it worth saying... I dunno.  I promise, all I'm going for now is the chance to be his friend.  Just with the complicating factor that looking at his face kind of makes me melt. 

Let's say he has a girlfriend of 3 years back home in flipping Taiwan (no accent/not fobby...???), and then just be happily surprised if such is not the case.

Aiyyahh, NOT that I would EVER be brave enough, but I kinda wish I still had an invitation to DKE formal to work with.  Unfortunately (although that's kind of a bitchy way to put it) I accepted Kintu's offer like a month ago.

I am going to DIE next week.  And I'm not doing aaaanything about it.

Thursday, I should have stayed home and done work.  But there was first a meeting about study abroad that was absolutely useless to me, since I'm totally sold on studying abroad but can't choose where (however, it offered homemade cupcakes) and then a Chi O mixer at Phi Psi.  I lied to myself and said I could come back and do work, but obv there's no way I'm going to be comfortable talking to a ton of unknown boys with my normal socially anxious, overthinking self breathing down my neck.  So I drank enough, all dressed up with pretty names and mixers by Neel (the cool quizbowler sophomore) and then Andrew (more on him later), to feel noticeably fuzzy in the head, which was a first.  Dunno how I feel about that really...it is what it is.  And there were Ivan the amazing swing dancer and Charlton the hilarious kid from my 1st quarter Chinese class and Andrew (hang on) to talk to, and Chi O girls to do crazy things with, and yet I spent the ENTIRE TIME talking to this one junior who was one of those "nice, but..." guys, dammit.  And after that I just went to bed, because...

Friday, I had to be up at 7:30 am to catch a bus to Nowheresville, CA (didn't know those existed in a place as exciting as California, but there ya go) to paint The Endless Fence with a few other Roble kids (and 30 other non-Roble non-kids).  (In reality, I woke up quite abruptly at 6 am and couldn't fall back asleep for the life of me.)  It was erected for the purpose of protecting burrowing owl nesting grounds, or something like that, but I personally can't tell one jot of difference between the field on one side of it and on the other.  Anyways, about all the new paint job seemed to be good for was covering up the bird droppings that had collected on the identically gray previous paint, but it wasn't my job to critique, just slap and swipe.  The experience wasn't so bad for all that; rather scarily, I think I could be pretty happy as a menial laborer.  The mindless repetition is kind of soothing, and you get a concrete sense of accomplishment when you snap back into reality every so often and see how much ground you've covered.  I got back to campus from that around 1 and lost the remaining time before bio lecture to Internet timesuck and one of my pints of Ben and Jerry's, instead of: 1) showering off the paint flecks scattered Pollock-style across my person 2) exercising 3) studying or 4) SLEEPING.  (Although I did get 1 major thing accomplished: dodging 2nd date with grad student.  Phew.)  To make up for that, my brain decided it was time to shut off precisely when I settled into my seat for 2 hours of anecdotes possibly relevant to the biology of human behavior.  I woke up only during the 5-minute bathroom break in the middle.  Ok, I thought as I biked back to Roble, if I'm in the sleeping mood I might as well try to take advantage of it.  30 minutes of tossing and turning later, I got out of bed to (finally) shower and prep for big sis BBQ, having reaffirmed that the only place I can sleep in the Stanford bubble is class.  The BBQ was kinda short on food, but my big sis is Roxy, whom I already know and like, and I found out I'm having a mystery adventure all day tomorrow.  Super awesome (except I'm missing my 3rd Saturday practice for ballroom dance team in a row after only attending 1...being a n00b AND a never-show probably = not being a member. Which is fair.  But I do actually want to do it, and I don't want to look lazy and uncommitted to the other members.  Che Chao and Victor in particular...more later mayhaps?).  I got back planning to make some progress on my unholy workload before possibly partying with Dawn later, but then Kintu says that his date for Screw Your Roommate stood him up, and one of the buses still hadn't left yet so we could still go.  And it's his birthday and it's become a recurring theme lately for me to beg off on movie-watching and such because of looming work, so I went.  Another one of those things that it's totally plausible for just-friends to do together...and yet...  When Lilly and Karis are asking what's up with me and Kintu because of how much he's coming by my room, going on a "date" with him just adds to the pile.  And no.  I'm so done with dormcest, and possible serious endangerment of my tiny social circle, plus he's just...Kintu.  He's like my brother, to absolutely reek of cliche.  No.

Aaaanyways we did go-karting and a bit of arcade gaming, then came back and actually got prelim draw stuff settled.  Although our draw group is weirdly reminiscent of prom of a year ago the way it has suddenly ballooned at the last second to include people I barely know, without my knowledge or permission, and I just have to swallow the situation and the accompanying drawbacks (higher draw number/fewer options, higher probability of being split up and put either with literally random roommates throughout the house or in diff houses altogether) or seem like a raging, unfriendly bitch.  *Sigh* ohhh well.  We'll default into Toyon and everything will be peachy. *crosses fingers*  Then Kintu, Cecilia, Kyle, and I headed over to FloMo to see what the ever-inventive Dawn was up to: going back to Old Chem with some stencils and spray paint to "leave her mark."  We got her to stick around for a few rounds of card games and charades but couldn't dissuade her from her one-woman stealth mission completely.  I hope she's not stuck half-in half-out of the death hole as I type...:(  Awesome girl, but definitely a bit of a crazy one.  We have tentative plans for tomorrow to party-hop between the frickin 3 frat parties all going down simultaneously (and that's after ANOTHER Chi O mixer for me, though I might skip).  I wanted badly to attend the big swing dance extravaganza, but that's not like classes and would be completely pathetic without a partner.  Meh.  Next year?  Swing classes over the summer?

AAARGH argh argh!!!  As soon as Paul is neutralized, the nebulous form of a Kintu issue starts to coalesce, and I monopolize my night with random Phi Psi juniors, and all the while I've contracted a raging case of yellow fever and all I--me, the main character in this tale who feels like maybe it'd be nice if sometimes something could happen to her that she actually WANTED to happen--want is to somehow get either Andrew or Victor to notice me.  Unfortunately, with all this stupid drama I still haven't the faintest idea how to purposely attract attention.  Second unfortunately, although both of them and their adorable faces and their hilariousness (Andrew)/incredible niceness (Victor) make me melt, getting involved with either of them is logistically impossible. 

Andrew Chou is one of those cocksure, mocking guys that Janice hates (yet flirts effortlessly with) and I find screamingly funny (yet impossible to talk to).  Damn Janice, she HAS a boyfriend.  Perhaps that's why she feels secure to shriek when he says something obscene and then engage in an insult and splashing battle and run around the fountain after him (I sat there on the side of the fountain, pretending to be engrossed in my bio reading, for lack of anything to contribute to the scenario)?  It's telling and annoying that the one thing he said to me besides requests for drink orders was "where's Janice?" (A: at prom, with the boyfriend.)  But even if I could clear the first hurdle and get friendly with him, it's probably like not even cosmically allowed, because he was frickin Jared's friend first (he's another acapella-head (amazing voice...)).  Conditions of our Facebook friendship: known through Jared F. Brewer.  Reason he came over to where we were sitting by the fountain in the first place: presence of Jared F. Brewer.

...Verboten.

...I hate hate HATE this ex shit.

Victor Chen took me under his wing at the first (and only :(((( ) ballroom practice I attended and basically gave me a half-hour private lesson.  He gave me a lot of excellent tips and compliments I highly doubt I deserved because I was tripping all over myself and forgetting everything and in sum just a n00b-y mess.  He's in both of the classes I'm taking this quarter (jive and tango), which is kind of strange because they're both "beginner" while he has ridiculously amazing form, and he always makes a point to wave hello and goodbye and to act pleased when it's his turn in the rotation to dance with me.  But but but.  If anyone really on the dance team knows me at all, they know I'm there following Jen's lead.  And what has Jen done but gotten herself involved with one of the veteran members, the 29-year-old Che Chao?  Going after Victor would make it look like I only joined SBDT because I thought it was a route to picking up older Asian men, which reflects badly not just on me but on Jen.  (And on a practical note, although he looks younger than Che Chao, for all I know he could be 35 and married...some of the members have freaking gray hair.)

...Verboten.

Umm, shoot, I have to be in front of the Tresidder bollards in 4 hours.  Tres bien.

Hum.

This is unfortunate.

I should record this weekend's events for posterity, because if I don't write it down somewhere it basically vacates my mind...case in point, Admit Weekend last year...I really don't remember anything except clouds and caterpillars and awkward parties and escaping to San Fran with Mom and Doug on the last day, which made it weird to be in a nostalgic mood this weekend during AW '08 because I couldn't come up with anything in particular to be nostalgic about.  Fitting into the capris I wore to the beach *bitter laugh.*

But I really just want to pretend the whole thing never happened.  Why did I even say yes?  It makes me feel bad to let people down...and I was flattered...but now I like feel worse because I led him on and he's not a bad guy, necessarily, just 7 freaking years older than me.  And we're like the only 2 that attend practices consistently so I will be seeing him every Mon and Thurs until the end of the year.  And probably never hearing the end of it from freaking Eric the Massively Inappropriate and Mischievous...auugh.

At least I have proven I can divorce myself from the "see what happens" mindset.  Because that would have gotten really bad, really fast.

...It was way too like going on a date with Doug.  Creeeepy. Creepy.

...Creepy!

...So I'm not mature like Jen and her 29-year-old, but I can definitely live with that.

And we're coming up on 3 months since el break-up, which is almost as long a duration as the entire relationship, and STILL the thing I fixate on is that Paul went to Jared's rival high school.  In my defense, that's a weird coincidental kind of thing.  But seriously.  Seriously.  MOVE THE FUCK ON, SELF.

Let's end on a happy note:

Breaking into Old Chem via an air vent with "death" graffiti-d on the outside and getting freaked out like CRAZY by getting lost somewhere amongst the 5 floors of corridors and falling-in classrooms and asbestos warning signs (eep) and dropping my flashlight and tripping while running downstairs because we heard an alarm and a police siren in succession and wanted to get the f out, and then balancing on Kintu's handlebars all the way back to Roble, and then almost wiping out and braining myself 5 times on the bike ride halfway around the lake to the treehouse and then almost falling and braining myself 5 times on the way up the tree and then having a Disney singalong at the top of our lungs and looking at the stars and then swinging and then crashing into each other swinging and then watching the beautiful, haunting, A-FRICKING-MAZING Pan's Labyrinth...THIS is college.  I want more...<3

Aiyee, the Game.  Sooo much fun, but sooo unbelievably hard!  My brain greatly desires to leap out of my ear and fry on the pavement for a while, but I'm so caffeinated there's no way I can sleep.  So I'm just miserably up and hanging around until XO retreat times, where I have to go try to act like a normal person whom 34 normal girls might want to be friends with.  And if Game-related brain death wasn't enough, I FAP-d myself (oho, it's not me wallowing, it's instinct) into a bad mood thanks to the unfortunate mix CD Tom had on incessant loop as we raced around the Bay Area...by like the 4th time through, Travis either noticed me muttering to myself or is inhumanly perceptive and realized it on his own, or has his own reasons for disliking the song, and got Tom to forward through the track (he's a GREAT kid who I wish I could figure out how to make actual friends with), but the damage was done.  There I was stuck.  And there I remain so.  Because I thought we were *finally* settling into an honest-to-goodness friendship and then yesterday he goes all distant and weird again so I dipshittedly send him a "what's up?" text and get nothing back...*moan of despair at least favorite situation in the world*...  And I don't know how to take that, and I fucking cannot call him out on it, because who's to say his stupid phone just didn't receive it?

If the next boy I'm into happens to have Verizon, he gets a "sorry, kid" and a boot out the door.  FTS.

(I hope I can eventually reach an amicable reconciliation with "I'm Yours" like I managed to do with Hellogoodbye.  It's simply not fair to turn one of my favorite songs unlistenable.  Jerk.)

...Yeah, 3B in general has kinda imploded on itself of late (there is much badly-kept-secretive dislike starting to bubble to the surface, and a good deal of "draw-ma," and a failed hallcest situation where one party just doesn't get that it's failed, but the kicker--one of the fringe elements, thought weird but lovable, revealed himself to be just plain fucking crazy by sexually harassing one of the girls; he got a restraining order and a transfer to a different dorm), and the atmosphere up there's just weeeird, and I should probably get out of it for a while.  "Should" being the operative word, because of course, since when do I ever do what I should?  For instance, I'm going to go make myself a waffle. 

More whining about the same ol' shit

Unless I fix my own actions, I'm just not going to have close friends and it's my own fault and I need to shut up about it.  Sorority life so far has been a series of awkward cocktail party settings, in which Janice thrives and I trail along behind, nodding and "mmm"ing and wishing I had social skills.  Amazing bonding experiences pending?  If not, can ya let me know before May 11, when I'm officially stuck in this thing?

I want to untag the spring break pictures of myself.  I want to cry when I see how far I've fallen in a year.  But for months and months and months, I haven't had the willpower to do anything about it, and that doesn't seem likely to change, as all I do is eat and stare at my computer screen in a charade of "work" and eventually give up and sleep, not enough, and then get up and repeat.  That same complaint shows up periodically since I started writing in this thing back in October...since then, I've gained 20 lbs.  Diiiiisgusting. 

Loneliness, laziness, bad decision-making, and exhaustion: the leitmotifs of my life. 

In other news, the caterpillars are looming...I see their nasty brown eggsac things on every tree I pass.  Gag.