I am such a yenta

Coming soon, to a theatre near you:

May/December Personality:
the tale of a forty-five year-old hen occupying the body of a twelve year-old boy

Cindy: Mrs. Bennett

Millie: Jane Bennett

Allie: Lizzy Bennett

Priyanka: Lydia Bennett

…which makes Justin Mr. Collins!  Ha!  Who else can be assigned a convenient role?  Hm.  I’ll have to think on this.  That’s okay.  I should be constructing a quiz for my children, anyway.

Shopping with Lee Mama

Scene: Browsing through Gap Kids

Me: The problem is that a lot of these things leave me with no shape.
Lee Mama: That’s because you’re shapeless.

Hi

So what up yall. I want to say that life has been pretty boring. Well, I went to Davis for Picnic Day and told my parents it was for a biology field trip. That was pretty fun. It is mostly a blur because for picnic day you get wasted, absolutely trashed. Thats what I exactly did. And boy did I have the time of my life. Not only did i get to witness 1000s of other drunk college students, but I got to see India, yes the India of UCDavis. Cindy knows about this community at Berkeley because that is who i hang out with all the damn time.

Drunk indians are quite humorous, Cindy has seen this with me multiple times. I tend to um make mistakes. But its ok none of them are hardcore…. yet.

But I made no mistakes in Davis, it was great. Cindy talked too much and fell asleep on teh ride back to pleasanton. it was depressing because then I coudlnt talk to cindy.

Anyways, back to India. I talk about India in this blog as a community, not the country. India and I have a love hate relationship. Drama and gossip prevails and it is the ideals that every indian dude and chicks stick by.

I hate drama and gossip, but then again who do i hang out with berkeley… indians. makes me the biggest hypercrite.

but its alrite because im indian.

and yes i can use that as excuse. stupid cindy is going to judge.

Ok we need to study. and cindy is hungry. she is a fattie horse. she came over TO study and what does she do. we gossip and talk about drama. yeah she is indian.

haha :)

Karma, again…

…it’ll bite you in the ass.  Not like what happened on The Real World: Paris, in the season premiere, which is probably a good thing.  Funny, isn’t it, how the only episode I’ve ever watched of TRW is that one?  And that the only description of that particular moment that I could find on the Internet was on a Parents Television Council website?  (Believe me, I racked up all sorts of PATRIOT ACT points trying to find a video clip.)

Anyway, last weekend, I went up to Davis for Picnic Day.  I somehow managed to have a higher tolerance than Allie’s entire apartment + the tall former Mormon from next door.  There wasn’t too much gloating on my part, but there was some playful jesting.  Well, here comes karma to bite me in the ass.  This weekend saw the advent of Sigma Pi Galaxy and Fuck la Niña con la Piña.  I’m not sure what screwed up my body chemistry to the point of a lowered tolerance.  Thoughts of the Sketchy Pinky (who I was supposed to see the next day) could’ve been what did it.  For whatever reason, I became intimately acquainted with the bathroom floor.  &c.

Here’s what Allie requests that I broadcast to the world.  Er, the very limited world that reads this.  Which, I mean, is Mik, who will understand, and Stephe, who was there only other time it’s happened.  (Thanks, Stephe and Katie!)  Because she is my BEST FRIEND, all caps, and because she’s sad that people know she talks on the phone while urinating, what follows is my acquiescence to her request.

Brittany, Joyce, and I went to Fat Apple’s for brunch.  I figured soup would be good.  I was dead on my feet for much of the time…and then I excused myself to go to the bathroom.  The good news: unlike how pancakes would’ve tasted, the veggie soup?  Tasted much the same coming up as it did going down.  Yes.  Now, here’s what turned Allie’s stomach.  I rinsed out my mouth, went back outside, and finished my meal.  Including the leftover soup.  What is so wrong with that?

Karma Points, as they stand:

+1,000,000 to Joyce
+2 to the sexiled roommate who had to get rid of me before he could get some action of his own…let’s hope he finally scored, huh?
+500 to Brittany (and Joyce, again) for having to watch my green gills for most of brunch
+20 to Melita for reminding me that I’m a small Asian girl
-40 billion to Small Asian Girls.

Karma

…Not Carma, though, because it’s not like I was driving or anything.

I recently poked fun at Wes for losing his composure on the El.  While I did not lose my composure, I did sleep past Downtown Berkeley today, and had to switch to the reverse train at the North Berkeley BART station.  Serves me right for making fun of Wes.  Even if he deserves it, and won’t let me talk to his mom about her thoughts on Golden Rice.

Speaking of poke, and get your minds out of the gutter, kids, ’cause there’s only room enough for mine…

Via text:
Me: I can’t believe you’re still up!  Poke Allie for me!
Millie: I know!  I’ll poke her literally and Facebookly.

One last thing: Note how all the tags today start with ‘B.’  B is for Berkeley.  GO BEARS :D   (And Buckeyes, which also starts with ‘B.’)

School Tidings

This should be the last post of the night/morn.  I told Mik I’d be on Skype until 1:00, and here it’s 1:46 already…

My genetics/genomics professor is causing some worry in my pocket of the lecture hall.  When she first started lecturing, she was very direct and very speedy.  The speed has slowed (ha!), perhaps in response to our request via the GSI, but she has also become a bit scattered.  Sometimes, she’ll lose her train of thought in the middle of lecture.  Also, today, she talked to us about her cold sores.  Granted, it had to do with viruses, our current topic, but the manner in which it was presented seemed a bit overly-personal.  I am hopeful that she is okay.

And now, without further ado, a little punny micro interaction!

Sebastian: Why are we learning this?  What could possibly motivate me to remember this?
Me: Uh.  It could enhance your social life.
Sebastian: Oh, right.  Hey, you’re CI, and I’m CIII.  Let me stabilize you!
Me: No thanks, I can turn myself on.

That was pretty nerdy.  Wiki might help.

Surprise!

Joyce, I know you’ll read this eventually.  So, surprise!  You won’t like what I have to say, but…

Allie and I think you’re cute :)

In a slightly related matter, I just realized that I have used both “best friend” and “bff” as tags.  Oops.  Instead of rectifying (lacking the “um” and the “ify”) my incongruity, however, I am simply going to specify.  Allie = best friend, because that’s how I referred to her before.  Wes = bff, because it’s extremely close to “buff,” and, HELLO!?

Thank you for not being sketch

Just one more for the time being, really.

BART adventure!

I switched up my routine and changed trains at the Coliseum yesterday, rather than Lake Merritt (nighttime, inclement weather) or Bayfair (daytime, non-rush hours) on my way home.  As we were boarding the train, a gentleman with luggage asked me about how much longer it would be to get to Dublin/Pleasanton.  With logistics taken care of, we settled in for the ride.

Points of conversation:

  • His brother just graduated from Cal.  (Go Bears!)  Their family gave him a good deal of grief for that, though, as they are all Trojans.  (Ugh.)
  • When his father went to $c, he could work part-time and support himself through school.  Not so anymore.
  • When he started college, (“And now you’ll realize I’m quite a bit older than you”) a quarter was $400.  By the end of college, he was paying $1800 per quarter.
  • Sports team loyalties, intercollegiate athletics’ gossip, and the like.

Having expounded on some of my preferences, he mentioned that two people in his office are LOUD, OBNOXIOUS OSU fans.  HECK YEAH!  GO BUCKEYES!  But then, I paled a little.  Um.  He works in the Tri-Valley.  (He said the name of the company, but it was obscured by ambient BART noises.)  He’s an engineer.  The two Buckeyes in his office are probably also engineers.  Uh.  COULD THEY BE ONES I’VE MET?  COULD I KNOW (not in the Biblical sense, thank goodness) OTHERS IN THE OFFICE?  I didn’t ask for more details.  But, I have come to another conclusion…

No more effort for the time being.  Not even Amber’s three-date rule.  Either there is an instant frisson, or nuthin’.  I clearly am uncomfortable with (a) my standards, (b) the way I treat other people, and/or (c) reminders of my [recent] youth.  Friendship first, last, and always.  Anything else?  I’ll be pleasantly surprised, but it had better be one heck of a surprise, because I am not one to develop feelings simply because signals are coming in.  It’s not like I want to learn Korean or anything.

For the record?  This guy was nice and not sketch.  No undercurrents OR overtones of impropriety.  No dirty old man implications.  Good for him.

Bonus: The Elevator Train

Also known as “the El,” one of Chicago’s forms of public transportation is (a) dirtier than BART and (b) slower than the subway.  Mik is partial to it; I have fond memories of it, but public transportation-wise, it leaves something to be desired.  (Yes, other areas have public transportation.  Maybe we’ll get to them later.)

So, small anecdote.  On one of his days off, Wes took the El into the city to go shopping.  Being quite the industrious metrosexual, he was inordinately proud of himself for snagging an attractive purchase from Banana Republic.  Then, he fell asleep.  Not being blessed with super-sleeping abilities (hey, I have few talents, but this is one of them!) like I am, he missed his stop and had to double back.  Somewhere in the confusion, he lost his purchases…and proceeded to whine like a baby.  I can poke fun/not be too fastidious about details because Wes doesn’t believe in blogs and will therefore never admit to reading this.  The end.

Is there no end?

I am an endless fount of tales on public transportation, it seems.

BART adventures, Part n

There was a student who always got on at Fruitvale last semester, but because my schedule (and hers, too, I guess) is different this semester, I haven’t seen her around lately.  Until Friday.  We started talking about the weekend, and as CTD staff would attest, my filter is more porous than that of your average bear!

Me: Hurray for weekends!
Her: Yeah, and it’s Earth Day, too.
Me: Oh, there’s bound to be a lot of stuff going on.
Her: And if I don’t find anything, I could always do laundry.  I’m running out of clean underwear.
Me: You know, I was reading about three-holed underwear…I guess people just rotate…
Her: Haha…Speaking of which, I’ve been seeing a lot of underwear around Berkeley lately.
Me: Really!?
Her: Yeah, girls’ underwear, boys’ underwear…

Oh, what a world!

Another BART adventure

The following happened…oh, a week and a half ago.

BART adventures, Part 3

Background: I have been BARTing to and from Berkeley this school year because my roommate and I both moved out of our apartment to study abroad…and then I found out it would cost $20,000 to study in France for one semester.  Au revoir, Critical Studies ProgramBonjour, Pleasanton.

Last semester, I had 8AM classes every.  single.  day.  ‘Twas tragic.  8AM class necessitated 6:44 BART.  (We–Punal and I–could have also caught the 6:57, but my classes were on the east end of campus, and the trek out that way would have caused my energy to peak, resulting in a crash during class.)  During the morning commute hours, everyone kind of develops a routine.  I always sat facing backwards in the second car, transferred at Lake Merritt (because the bulk of people transferred at one of the Downtown Oakland stops, after which I would get a seat), and saw the same faces.

Every now and then (when Punal wasn’t there/when Punal was there, but ignoring me to listen to “Get Low“), I would speak to a gentleman who was always in the same line.  (The second car from Dublin/Pleasanton => the first car at Lake Merritt on the Richmond train.)  Random facts: works for BART, had a really smart nephew in Idaho…oh yes, we definitely discussed the Mormons.  Which, by the way, I ought to stop doing.  I spent every morning with Mormon Pleasantonians sophomore year of high school, so I feel kind of in tune with the culture.  But, I mean, it’s not like I’d like it if people always talked to me about Taiwanese stuff.

Last-last Friday: I went to the city with my future roommates, Elina and Erin, to go shopping.  There was bonding.  There were anecdotes.  There were awkward comments.  (Well, duh.)  Then, I got back on BART at Powell to hie my way home.  Who should get on at Montgomery than the gentleman from the morning commute!  I hadn’t seen him in a long time because I (THANK GOODNESS) don’t have 8AMs this semester, so we caught up.

Interesting coincidences: he works for Nkechi’s dad!  And, his super-smart/hardworking nephew in Idaho is also doing microbial biology.  And so it goes.  As we’re exiting:

Him: Yeah, I think you and my nephew would get along really well.  I wish you two could meet.  I mean, I’d like to introduce you to him…I don’t know if you have a boyfriend…

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