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i'll be sitting til the evening comes

the backbays of newport


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I took a final today and now I have two more to go. My teacher is so lame -- he's having us turn in our paper the Monday AFTER finals week so I can't really enjoy my first weekend of winter. Talk about f u c k e d up.

I've been trying to eat healthier. This is partly because I want to look hot for our PINK party, but also because I've gained freaking 10 pounds. TEN POUNDS. I think I've lost a few pounds these last few weeks by replacing cookies with fruit and eating salads before dinner. Go me. God, why am I so unmotivated? I need something so stupid like our PINK party to get my ass to eat healthier. How shallow of me..

Today I found little red patches of skin in Roscoe's ear. I hope he doesn't have an infection. :( I worry way too much about that dog. I get so damn sensitive anytime someone mentions death or sickness around him.. Like once my dad and I passed by a pet cemetery on our way to the beach, and he jokingly said, "You better start saving for Roscoe.."

I cried because of that (he was less that one years old at the time). I'm lame, I know. But I can't help but be thankful for Roscoe. He's really made my life much, much happier. I look forward to coming home because I know he'll be waiting there with a toy in his mouth, shaking his booty, circling the hallway, waiting for me to take him on a walk. He makes our apartment so "homey" and he's made my parents wayyy happier too. It's weird to think having a dog could change so much at our house.. He's made everything much more peaceful. I think the fact that my sister and I are getting older and more distant from our parents makes them appreciate Roscoe's childlike enthusiasm. It's been a while since I heard my dad speak in that high-pitched, endearing tone you only hear around babies. I think dogs just make us feel younger, in general. This is why I'm so devoted to this dog... he's given me more meaning in life just by making me laugh everyday and he's completely changed the mood at home. Ok I'm getting way too deep about this... but yeah. :) I love doggies.

Vain insomniac

It's 3:03 am and I just finished some group work. I can't believe how fast the year is going.. and even though I'm constantly busy, I feel like I'm barely accomplishing anything.  I wish I had more time to really get to know people this year -- I mean, like, not just bump into them at D&B's, but actually get to know them.  As social as I may seem, I'm really not that open to a lot of people. I need to do something about this before I lose my connections after graduation (OMG! Graduation?!)

Anyway, here's what I wore today. I don't need permission to  be vain, do I?

 I know this outfit would've been much cuter if I had worn my new ankle peep-toe boots, but there's no way in hell I am walking around UCI wearing 4 inch heels. But GAWD don't I need them?! I'm so short. :/ Anyway, I'm obsessed with my new black cardigan from F21's Twelve by Twelve "luxury" line.

I really liked my makeup and hair that day. Haha. And damn, the iphone's picture quality is surprisingly amazing.

Thanksgiving was pleasant this year.  As usual, I was uber excited about the yummy food.... I could hardly restrain myself from squealing when someone came over with a new dish to try.  Needless to say, my food baby is probably at 4 months now.  I think my favorite dishes this year were: shaomai, garlic mashed potatoes (that I made!), bbq ribs, garlic-teriyaki fried chicken, red velvet cupcakes, and pumpkin cheesecake. Now I can finally start my starvation diet. Haha. Kidding.

The black friday shopping wasn't as great this year. Either there weren't good deals or the stuff that I DID find appealing weren't on sale. Poop. I did buy a cute LBD... though it wasn't really on sale so I guess the hassle I spent in the crowded lines was useless.  I also bought Roman Holiday... watching it is kind of surreal after you've actually seen Rome.  Even now, there is not one day that passes that I do not wish I was back in Italy. Anyway, now I'm broke. Thank God for Secret Santa arrangements this year...

TIME

When Ros and I realized that we wanted a copy of the LA Times on Wednesday, it was too late.  So, tonight, I'm marching over to Albertsons to pick up a TIME magazine.

I cried. 

I can't even begin to articulate what this means. After taking a class on the US War on Terrorism this year and being aware of the bullshit that's been plaguing our politics for so so long (yes, before Bush), knowing that Obama is our president-to-be is such a breath of fresh air. I hope he lives up to his promises. 

YOU  MUST SEE THIS. 

SOLID AS BARACK BABYYYYY

eggshells

Eggshells. That's what I feel like right now.

My life has never been so stressful.

I wish I could've taken it easy my last year in college, but no.

I'm constantly running around trying to get something done.. and this is the first time in my life that I thought, "Shit. I can't do this all." 

I didn't go into work today and my boss is bombing my phone, text inbox, voicemail, AND email. Lord knows what would happen the second I sign into AIM. I fucking hate how my manager makes me feel obligated to that job. It's a student job for fuck's sake. I have other priorities in life other than graphic designing for the stupid bookstore. Tomorrow, I'm giving him my two cents.. I hope I don't pussy out again.

because i said so

FAT IS THE NEW SKINNY.
until i lose 10 pounds.

Committment

Why can't I commit to journal-writing these days? I can devote hours of my day on Perezhilton.com or Facebook.. but I can't sit down and blog for 20 minutes and de-stress on Blogger. I think I need to re-evaluate my online priorities. I'm the queen of recording history, for God's sake. I was freaking editor of the yearbook and to this day, I cannot leave my house without my camera. I'm the girl with the infamous 59 (?) albums on Facebook, after all...

Fall quarter.
Sociology Honors Program, PASS, Management classes, Work...

This is my academic life in order of importance.

I'm forcing myself to get into that school mode once again. But something in my heart just won't let go if Italy completely. Someone once told me that studying abroad was going to change my life.. and as cheesy and cliche as it sounds, it's so true. I came back to CA depressed for at least three days.. feeling numb and zombie-like. Yes, I was there.. but I really wasn't. I must've annoyed Jay with my non-present presence for at least a week. Every other sentence that sprouted from my mouth began with, "In Italy...." I've been back for almost a month, and I'm starting to get back into the mundane, normalcy of college life. I hate it. Most of all, I feel like I'm starting to forget what it's like to wake up in Italy and look outside my beloved window. I miss the view. I miss the air. I miss the feeling. I mean, I love waking up to my doggie, begging and forcing me to get out of bed and take our ritual morning walks.. but seriously, I don't think I'll ever not miss Italy.

Now I'm here wondering about my future. What am going to research for this honors class? Am I going to grad school this year or take a year off? Who do I want to work for? Will I even find a job? Should I take a Kaplan class for the GMAT's?

But how can I wonder about my future when all I can occupy my heart with is being far, far away from home?

Legal

happy belated birthday to me :)

Vegas was incredible.  It's not the way I initially hoped it would turn out, but I don't think I could've imagined it any other way.  Thanks to those who tried to make it out.. we'll celebrate soon! And to those that did come (my cousins, family, friends I met up with & Jay), THANK YOU for making it so memorable. 

I celebrated 12:00am June 28th on Fremont Street (downtown LV).  My family/cousins were there with me to start it off right.  That night they surprised me with a shitload of goodies (booze!)... of which I would only take like one shot of because it's all that my poor body can handle. :( Hah. Yay for Greygoose and Patron... cause you know, we drink the classy stuff. I will never ever forget how drunk my cousin was that night.  To sum it up: disappearing for an hour, falling asleep on a toilet and waking up to a flooded bathroom in the casino, falling asleep in the shower, flashing me, etc... 

Don't worry. I had my fair share of drunkenness the next night. Tao was way too crowded so my cousins, Jay, and Mike and his friends ended up going to Studio 54 at MGM Grand.  He bought my a Patron shot and I sipped on a Midori Sour (after downing a half yard of something orange).  Let's just say.. I've never been that drunk in my entire life.  I don't think I had a lot but apparently, I didn't space it out enough?! Anyway, people were looking at me on the dance floor because I could not even stand up on my own. I was seriously leaning on Jay's chest the entire time. So my cousins decided that it was time for me to go to the bathroom.  Upon entering, I lifted a Irish woman off a chair and told her that I needed to sit. She was really friendly and let me sit as I took a "five" minute nap. My cousins kept waking me up, but I seriously did not move.  Finally, they were able to get me in one of the stalls and I refused to get near it until there were toilet seat covers.  I sat on the floor, facing the toilet, arms embracing the seat, head on my shoulder... and slept again.  They said that I was in the bathroom for a half an hour but it felt like a total of 10 minutes.  Sad. This bathroom security lady finally told me to get some fresh air and put a cold washcloth on my neck.  So we're walking out of the club, and I immediately tell Jay that I want to barf.  There was an exit like 15 ft away and the first thing I did was rest my forehead on the rim of the ashtray/trashcan and hurled away. I kept commenting on the colors in between breaths, apparently.  Some random guy offered me a half-full bottle of water.  I blew my nose into the washcloth and threw it away. Then I demanded some gum.  

We went back inside MGM and Jay got me a Sprite.  No, wait. I demanded a Sierra Mist, so he gave me something to that effect. As I took a sip, I complained at how it burned my throat because of the "pH level." Yeah, I really said that.  Usually, when I throw up, it's an instant sober for me, but this time, it obviously was not.  I think I even drooled at one point? I even made obscene jokes. For instance, there was a sign that read "Receiving Dock," .. well, I'm sure you can guess the rest.  Oh yeah, and a night of debauchery is not complete without crying. Yeah, I cried because my cousin said that Jay wouldn't kiss me because I threw up.  When he DID try to kiss me, I would push his face away saying, "EWWWW that's NASTYYY!" 

So yeah. Mission accomplished, guys. 

Pictures that I promised:

I have a major case of premature senioritis. Just. One. More. Year. Damnit.

Next year is going to be hectic. I've decided I want to pursue the Honors program in Sociology, which pretty much means I'm committing suicide for my social life. I have to conduct a research project and write a thesis. Plus I'm going for my Management Minor. Oh, and I'm applying for PASS Board (not to mention work, Roscoe, and the bf).

And then the process of applying to grad school is going to hit me. :/ Great. This means GMAT's and job-hunting. Um, let's push this to the back of my brain for now...

All my favorite shows are gone for the moment.. Gossip Girl, Grey's Anatomy, The Office, etc. I feel like such a bum these days (and it shows), trading in my gym shoes for the couch. It's amazing how I can mentally beat myself to death thinking about all of the homework I have, and then Jackie flips the TV on and it's like I completely forget. I have my priorities straight and all, but seriously, I need to deal with my time management issues. I have three books that need to be read by like last week. Fuuuuck me.

Roscoe's hair cut looks ridiculous. It's sorta kinda growing on me. Well, actually, it's more like I've learned to accept it. I've reminded myself that hair grows, so I'll be okay. Hahaha.. pictures soon!

So the other day I was talking to someone about their credit history. Turns out theirs really sucks. That kind of scared me. I know what kind of a person I am when I take a trip to the mall. Or when I'm stressed out and I have to indulge in a little retail therapy. Seriously, who said money can't buy happiness? NOT ME! I don't care if it's short lived satisfaction, I want it all. Haha. I hate how society makes us think we need these things. I know we don't. I can live without this or that.. but I just don't wanna. But with that said, I'm happy my parents taught me the value of good credit. Their credit is spotless and mine is, too (thankfully). But lately, I haven't been keeping a careful eye on what I spend like I usually do. I never spend more than I make and I've been saving my money all year for the most part, but lately I've been spoiling myself silly. And Jay doesn't let me forget it. Blah. I hate how level-headed and rational he is, sometimes (Hi, hon. I know you read this.). I guess it's a good thing... but it reminds me how reckless I can be with money.

I still can't believe someone tried to steal my fucking identity. I did a credit report recently just to make sure the bastards didn't try to take out any loans or other lines of credit in my name, and it turns out that I'm okay. :) Shred your papers, people! It sounds silly but it's the only way to protect yourself. I mean, I guess no one is really guaranteed... but do what you can IF you can. One month later, and I'm still trying to settle this stupid thing with Discover, sending them "documentation" of my whereabouts the day someone bought a $2500 pool table in my name. That's not to mention the police report I had to file and countless phone calls with Discover. Are some people just born without a conscience?


Random photo because I'm vain and I know you know I know it.

Kat von B

Ah, my fat belly. :)

Ok here's the story like I promised...
Jackie and I were feeling pretty stoked the entire morning. It was all we could think about all weekend, and as we approached the tattoo parlor, Skin Works, our excitement gradually turned to an uncomfortable nauseating one. I was relieved that she wanted to go first -- if she saw the way I reacted to needles, I'm sure it would be enough to have her running out the door. But she made it look so easy. She took it like a man. "Jackie you look so calm! Does it hurt?" .. "No, it feels kinda good."

I had hope. At least I thought I did.

The tattoo artist, whose name escapes me at the moment (thank God for business cards), told me that he'd start with a small line just so I could see how it felt. I closed my eyes and two seconds later, it was over. He asked me how it was, and I told him to go on and that it wasn't that bad. Five seconds later, I'm squeezing Jackie's hand so hard you'd think I was going into labor. Rosaline, my other roommate, had arrived and was hovering over me, with a camera, candidly snapping away at a horrible angle that would later cause me to cringe. Not only that, but my face shriveled like a dry sponge (which Ros beautifully captured on my camera), and my eyes were teary. Jay had called me before and told me not to cry. It was my goal not to. Yes, this Kat can endure an hour of pain without crying. But I swear if Jackie let go of my sweaty hands for one second I would have screamed. At some point, particularly the moment when the artist was going over the outline on my hipbone, I started to laugh hysterically. My body was literally shaking on this uncomfortable dentist-like chair. I don't know why I act inappropriately in these situations. It was so painful -- so I laughed? Haha, I might as well applaud at a funeral. Anyway, it was enough for the tattoo artist to warn me not to move. The outline was the most painful part of the process... It was the slowest 30-4o minutes of my life. Worst of all, as I looked around at the shabby parlor (why do tattoo parlors always look so "ghetto"?!) and there was nothing there to comfort me. Nothing for me to fixate my eyes on, to help me concentrate, to help me forget a needle was stabbing me multiple times on my bone and was probably bleeding profusely. There wasn't even music playing. Instead, a show about animals was showing on some boring daytime TV channel. The only sounds were the loud, obnoxious noise of the needle machine, not-so-occasional complaints from me, and Jackie laughing at my retarded expressions. The coloring portion, however, wasn't so bad. The needle didn't seem to be as intense, maybe because the speed was reduced. In a little over an hour, it was all over. It looked bright and vibrant. And a teeny bit bloody. But I instantly felt a little sexier, so I was happy.

A minute after he finished and after I stopped admiring my tat, he taped this diaper-like bandage on it that jutted out of my shirt a bit. It was an uncomfortable car ride home, but it was over. :) I have a tattoo... it still sounds weird when I say it.

But there it is .. my swallow tattoo. A swallow is supposed to represent enduring love (hence the heart<3). Swallows are known to choose one mate during their lifetime. Also, it is a symbol of always returning home because swallows always return to San Juan Capistrano after their migration. It has a few other meanings, but I like those two the best. <3

still breathing

So this is like, my 4th blog or so. Whoops. I just can't stay committed, I guess.

Life. It's great right now. I'm going to Italy in about a month, things are good between me and the 'rents, my doggie is happy and healthy, and Jay and I are doing swell.

But of course, life wouldn't be life without any complaints. So here it is in a nutshell: The roommate situation isn't spectacular. As Ros says, "there's always that fourth roommate syndrome" (..I'm tempted to go on but I'll leave it at that). I'm kinda sorta broke and I have almost nothing to show for it. I'm trying to get back to my "normal" weight, which is about 103-105, but I'm at a stagnant 108.5. I have no clue how to speak Italian. I am dreading finals week.

Hmm.

I was kind of debating whether or not I should mention this, but what the hell. I got a tattoo. It was a semi-spontaneous event. I'd been thinking about getting one since I was about eighteen. Big surprise, eh? But I'd been deathly afraid of having something permanently inked for three reasons: 1) The obvious reason.. completely hating and regretting it later in life. I mean, is this just a stupid rebellious stage in my life that I will get over by my late twenties? 2) If I get fat or pregnant one day, then a tattoo would be a daily reminder of how I used to look, except the tattoo itself would probably be faded, ugly, and distorted by then. It would be a sad reminder of my slipping youth and my then-reasonable metabolism. 3) Needles hurt. This wasn't really a reason that I was weighing when deciding to get one, but I have a very low threshold for pain, and I've had one too many bad experiences with needles, so this was something to mentally prepare myself for.

But I did it anyway. It was a bit out of my element, but at least I survived. I figured, the more I keep waiting, the less likely I'd actually get one. Plus, maybe it's not such a bad thing to look back on. One day, when I'm old and feeling nostalgic, I'll look back at my college years and remember the time I wanted a tattoo. The tattoo would simply be documentation of that time in my life... :)

I'll post pictures later with all the gruesome details.