Oh, Life.

Until I get off my lazy ass and reschedule my appointment with a retiring psychiatrist from 4/04 to another date, Blogger is going to have to take the beating for my ranting.

Where to start, where to start? I don't think people realize that I'm very shy and therefore don't do much talking. I'm pretty sure people are thinking I'm just anti-social or don't want anything to do with them. Half of that is true.

Friday, I get invited to a lunch outing with my coworkers. I have no idea who's going to be there – I dislike some of the people I work with, but that's a given when you're working a job. We arrive at our lunch destination, which was delicious despite me not saying more than a couple words the entire hour. Apparently, someone had reserved a room at the restaurant and I felt pretty bad tagging along, but I was told I wasn't included in the e-mail because my managers and boss are automatically copied in any e-mail I receive.

Conversations start and no one is engaging me. I'm listening to what everyone is saying, but there are three separate conversations going and the one I care for more is super quiet. I can only get bits and pieces. The conversation in front of me is super loud, the opposite of super quiet, and about Star Wars, Back to the Future, and gambling in Las Vegas, with drinking thrown in every now and then. I've ordered a cheese steak sandwich and had gotten a couple of "That looks delicious!" but other than that, nothing. I could've jumped in on the geek fest in front of me, but I never saw Back to the Future or Star Wars in their entirety. I'm pretty sure I've only seen a total of like fifteen minutes of Back to the Future and like thirty minutes of each Star Wars film (the ones before Lucas decided to just fuck it up, or so I've been told). One hour of this and we're back in our cubicles. Uneventful and well, boring is how I would describe it. Plus, we had to pay in cash and all I had was a twenty, which I gave anyway, so the waitress got a nice tip from me.

Friday evening, I was told about going out to watch the VCU Rams in some March Madness basketball tournament. VCU is doing really well and in the Final Four, so they have a chance to win all this. I don't care for it, but I do care about hanging out with people (and drinking). I get a text for a destination at like 9 PM and I get myself ready and on my way by like 9:30. The plan was to leave by 9:15, but I got preoccupied. I only live twenty to thirty minutes away, unfortunately, I got there late and parking at this place is horrendous. There weren't any spaces and if there were, they were motorcycle-sized. So, I ended up parking a couple blocks away from where I was going to spend the night and having to walk like ten or fifteen minutes to the bar. The weather was a bit chilly, but the walk warmed me up. Of course, I don't remember if I locked the doors with the keyless entry device, but I'm halfway to where I'm supposed to be. Turn around and make sure the fucking door isn't locked because I'm paranoid someone might try to steal my CDs or my clothes or the car.

After walking for blah knows how long, I finally get to the bar and it's full and they can't let any more people in. I'm kind of beyond pissed and people are talking, saying that no one is going to leave because the VCU game is just starting. True. What's also true is that there's a back door, supposedly the emergency exit, which I snuck through with the help of my friends. My only problem was that if I got a nice buzz and wanted to smoke a cigarette, I'd have to go out the front door and I just had this paranoid feeling that the doorman would recognize me. I'm Asian, and not wearing any black or yellow or any combination thereof, which are the colors for VCU.

Once I was inside, I was enjoying myself. I was drinking heavily and just guy watching. I didn't care for VCU or basketball, so you put those two together and I'm just a ball of don't-give-a-fuck. The rest of the night went well, until I thought that throwing up in a parking lot was a good idea. Whoops. I had a horrible hangover the next day and took an afternoon nap for four hours.

Saturday was uneventful and non-productive.

Spring football for the River City Sports & Social Club is in full swing. The homosexuals have a team. I'm not playing, but that's no surprise. What's a surprise is that I played football with them in the previous season in fall. I'm not playing this season because I don't have a competitive cell in me and I didn't like being yelled at by our quarterback for not being open or I need to turn around faster or I need to be on the line of scrimmage faster. I'm pretty sure I was clear that I'm not athletic or any good at football. I get asked why I wasn't playing and was told that I looked like I enjoyed myself. That's because I didn't give a fuck if we won or not.

Anyway, to show that I'm not a bitch, I go to the football games and cheer (as best I can or am willing to). The team is doing well and it doesn't look like anyone is getting angry, which normally happens. It's a team of homos and one straight girl – there isn't much hope for winning, unless we're up against a bunch of toddlers, and we'd only win due to the height difference.

Sometimes after the game, we'll all go out and get brunch or drinks. Sunday was pretty cold and it had mixed rain/snow earlier that morning. Some wanted to watch the VCU game, surprise. Three groups branch away and go on. I sort of hang around in hopes maybe someone will ask me to come along. I do get asked along, joy, but at the last minute and I was told that I'd be sent a message on Facebook. I live across the James River and about thirty minutes away. I didn't want to go all the way home only to have to come back to watch something I don't care for. I stop by a grocery store for some food because I'm starving. The people I'm supposed to be hanging out with needed to get drinks beforehand or something. They weren't really clear and they weren't really talking to me about it anyway. Like I said before, I got the invite when people were leaving and after I said, "I'll see you guys next week," hinting that I wouldn't be going with them. I had some food, so I stopped by my sister's place, which is nearby. Every thirty seconds, I'm checking my phone for some sign of where to go to meet up with people. Nothing, nothing, nothing. After half an hour, I give up and just go home after stuffing too much potato salad down my throat and into my stomach. If I get the information later, I would just make some shit up like I went home and passed out or was watching TV and didn't have my phone nearby.

Of course, being the masochist that I am, I have to check Facebook to see how much fun everyone else is having without me. I see a post from one of the people saying that she's watching the VCU game with some of her favorite boys; I figure it's her dogs because that's how she refers to them sometimes. Nope, pictures are later posted of them at the bar and she also tagged them in a post saying she had a great time watching the game and being with them. This from the one who said she was going to do homework at her apartment while the game was playing. I see pictures of them hanging out at an apartment, too. Really, they just forgot about me and I'm not memorable enough to remember.

Well, I'm sorry for being so fucking shy. I can't be like all the other homos out there with the witty attitude, girl-no-you-didn't personality. I'm also not skinny or attractive enough to be remembered, either. I'm fucking trying to be more social. There's a fucking reason why I'm going to the football games every fucking Sunday, when I could be at home playing Warcraft and leveling a priest to fucking heal groups and play with other people. I'm fucking trying to make friends, but it's beyond difficult and near fucking impossible when you're shy and have self-esteem issues, especially around such an image-centric culture. The only thought that goes through my mind: am I doing something wrong? It doesn't help that I'm a broken record with this "Did I do something wrong?" at work, but now I'm doing it with a group of people. Yes, I'm easy to pick on and people recognize that because I don't snap back with my fingers and tell them, "Bitch, mind your own fucking business!" or some witty comeback. Thanks for comparing me to a soccer mom in that I'm suppose to bring bottles of water/Gatorade and towels or hell, even alcohol. I'm not fucking rich, and there's going to have to be some like money pot if they want me to provide shit for them because I was the only one who brought fucking alcohol last fucking season and to any other game for that fucked up matter. Sure people brought their own, but did they offer it to the entire team on more than one occasion?

I suppose I should grow bigger balls and let people know how I feel, but run the risk of being a bitch and then flat out not being asked to go to things again? I don't know. If there is one thing I know, is that I'm alone and just frustrated in trying to not be.

lol

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The guy is cute!



Mesmerizing!



Absolutely beautiful!

Shout It From the Rooftops / Write It On the Skyline

Shontelle's Impossible is absolutely amazing. It's on repeat. Surprise.

If you look at the last time I updated this blog, it was forever ago! So why now am I getting the urge to write today? There was a particular occurrance this morning that has spurred me to write. Just keep in mind the subject of this entry.

When I was younger, much younger than I am now, I used to have an electronic journal. I had it stored away and password protected. I had a password to open it because the entries were basically me swooning over any moment I had with my neighbor, even if I just saw him walk his dog. I didn't want my family to know that I was gay at the time, and since I didn't have anyone to talk to, I thought that typing out my thoughts and feelings would help. I guess it did, but it was young and many of the entries were pointless anyway, haha! At one point, I was somehow going to put it online, but I found it to be very very very cumbersome. So I decided to just get a deadjournal and start there. Before posting online, the computer, which housed the journal, broke and I was devastated! Then I put the journal on a CD-RW. Aaah, memories. Anyway, I only reminisce because of what happened this morning and I'm smiling and thinking how juvenile this will be, but hey, I really enjoyed typing those entries.

Since I have a full-time desk job, I usually leave the house around 7:30 AM. (Side note: I've been debating whether or not to use his real name, but I've decided to do so because it means "sun" in Hindi and I find that absolutely beautiful.) My neighbor, Suraj, works for Wachovia doing I don't know what, but he wears suits and looks great in them! Anyway, I had just closed the door and looked up when I saw him, shirtless I will point out, putting the family dog outside. I got a nice look at his shoulders, but he was hunched over and I think he saw me, but I pretended not to notice that he was there. It was from a distance, but his shoulders looked so smooth and kissable. If I hadn't gotten over him (I had the biggest crush on him in high school!) I'm sure my heart would've skipped a beat. And that's basically all that happened. I did smile on the way to the car and as I got into it.

Yup, imagine me just talking about Suraj on a daily basis, but with a more high school crush twist to it. It sucked when I finally accepted the fact that he would never love me back or say, "I love you," to me. That's when I decided that having a high school crush on him was pointless. I will admit that I went to the same college as he did just because he chose to go there. I did get to drive him home a couple of times and he slept most of the way and I remember looking over to watch him sleep. Bad idea because I'm one of those guys who will crash his car because he got distracted by an attractive guy running/walking on the side of road and the danger is multiplied if he's shirtless and even moreso dangerous if he's sweating and glistening in the sun.

Now to completely switch gears, but have some connection for me. I was going through my blogroll and I came across this website and its effort to repeal Don't Ask, Don't Tell. It's called The Dog Tag Project and you basically pay $25 for a dog tags, one that says "Repeal DADT," while the other has the information of a discharged member or one going through the process of discharge because of DADT. The money goes toward helping to repeal DADT. I'm so very tempted to do this. As a romantic I've always wanted dog tags and I always visualized my significant other giving me his dog tags and I'd always wear them and remember him. I don't think I can do that with these dog tags though. A little bio comes with the tags so I'll know of the soldier affected by DADT. I love the idea, and I love spending money. I must resist until I get paid again.

And I'm done. =)

With My Hands Wide Open

I don't know why the text is starting so low on the image to the left. And the subject title is unimaginative - I just used the image. Oh well.

It's a beautiful Saturday here at Virginia Tech, so I thought I might get some work done. I've packed all my things and went to my favorite hang out: She-Sha. I enjoy the dance of the smoke as it leaves my mouth. My lungs will hate me. I've given up on cigarettes because the taste is just absolutely atrocious. Hookah has flavors and no additives, but you could call it a vice of mine. Unfortunately, there's a slight wind flow where I'm sitting so the smoke is all going toward the left. Boo!

I'm slowly getting through my homework on a Saturday no less! I don't think I'll be able to read any assigments for the fact that there are too many distractions, e.g. boys and music. I need a nice quiet place to read, so I guess I'll do that at my apartment. Also I find it hard to do homework on my lap. I need a desk to lay out all my materials. I'm trying to get my homework done gradually over the weekend. It's my last semester and I need to maintain my pathetic GPA and so far, I'm not doing so well in my classes. I had midterm exams before my Spring Break and I didn't study for any of them. If I can prove that I do know something, maybe my professors will be sympathetic and give me passing grades.

It's my last semester and it's slowly settling in that this is my last semester. I was talking to my roommate about missing one of my professors and I almost cried. I'm such a girl! I know for sure that at the end of the year celebration thingy (Bacchanalia), I'm going to cry. VA Tech is like my second home and family. A few of my friends are going to be living together and I'm really jealous. I could try and find a salary job in Blacksburg, live with them, and work on getting my teaching license. My Mom would cry. The past few weeks, I've considered trying to find a job in DC. My Mom would cry. As mentioned before in this blog, my sister is going to move there and would like it if I rented her place. Only problem is money and I'm horrible at budgeting my money. Case in point: I was drunk one night and bought seventy dollars worth of personal items from Amazon. I've been trying to cut down on my iTunes purchases, also, but to no avail. I'm still buying music, and sometimes I don't even listen to what I buy. I'm so fucking horrible with money.

I think I'm going to finish this entry later tonight. I'm getting cold.

Shit

I had a shitty day. It's unfortunate because I woke up and I was in a good mood.

It's my last semester as an undergraduate and I since I'm a lazy bum, I wanted to take a couple of my classes as Pass/Fail. I only need one credit to graduate and to maintain my current pathetic GPA. I'm only taking twelve credits so I can receive loans. I left early in the morning to the building where I can change my grading option. I walk in and the lady asks if I need help with anything. Pass/Fail form. The deadline was yesterday. Thanks. Basic outline of the conversation, heh. That really put me in a sour mood because that would mean I have to do work to maintain my pathetic GPA.

My teacher couldn't sleep last night so he was a bit out of it. On top of that, we were missing half the class, bringing the total to four (including myself). The one day I put a full effort into translating and we're only going to do a couple phrases each. Well, I guess it wasn't so bad because we finished what I had translated up to. After class, a couple classmates go to this little restaurant and eat. I have a dining plan so I'm hesitant to eat there, but I give in to my laziness and end up ordering something. I'm not in a talking mood so when it was just me and another, I take my leave.

The day has been snowing on and off. I enjoy the snow. I abhor the aftermath - the mounds of snow on the side of the road, the salt encrusted snow getting on my shoes, and having more than six inches fall each day. I'm so sick of the snow now. Everyone is

I'm cutting this entry short cause well I feel like shit.