Friday, October 31, 2008

one for the books

first of all, I would just like to say I've never gotten drunk to the point where I've thrown up. But last night was one day that will live in infamy. Hah, no, it was pretty much awesome for the most part. I didn't throw up but came close to it; I just felt like throwing up. It was so hard to sleep because I kept thinking about the aroma of alcohol within the vicinity and taste of watermelon Smirnoff lingering in my mouth. But other than that, the night was a success, even though it was planned like3 or 4 days in advance. ACES.

I'm not going to get into details of the night because there was just so much going on around me, different stories being told, games being played. But for the sake of college partying, I'll leave you with a few Halloween costumes (that I could somewhat remember):

- half devil, half angel
- Tropic Thunder's Kirk Lazarus
- the universe (BRILLIANT, I must say)
- the Rainbow Fish
- kamikaze
- Hiro Nakamura
- military girl
- along with her military boy
- a barbarian?
- girls dressed up in shower caps and towel dresses
- slutty sailor
- slutty cop
- slutty prisoner escapee
- slutty bee
- another slutty bee
- slutty private jet pilot
- slutty Strawberry Shortcake
- slutty ME (you'll see in pictures =/)
- boy dressed up as a girl
- Okay, I don't remember anymore.

Last night was excellent.

Thursday, October 30, 2008

the alcocer anecdotes 06

long time, no talk, good friend. It's been ages since I've had a solid intelligent conversation...pfft. Neh, just random.

Episode 6: The Woes of Spanking Kyle

d: :(
m: i'm sorry i feel asleep last night, i woke up at 430am to see your sad face
d: aw :)
m: tell me of your worries, hopes, woes...
d: just woes...because we haven't chatted in ages!
m: yes, it truly is a woeful thing
d: indeed
m: any anecdotes from alcocer?
d: uhm yeah but if i started telling u them, i wouldn't be able to stop
d: a lot happens in alcocer years, they are much more condensed than regular people years
d: 0.1 alcocer years = 1 regular person years
m: ooh, so many experiences
d: yes yes yes
m: have you milked a cow
d: no :(
m: ate a snail
d: ew gross
m: gone bungee jumping
d: i wish
m: climbed everest
d: some day
m: go to a strip club
d: never
m: bought deodorant
d: O_O okokok i had to go to a strip club once in mexico, but that was for pledging and it was gross!!!
d: we were there for like 10 minutes and bounced
m: -__-
d: get it, bounced LOL
m: -________-
d: kekeke yeah it's a gross tradition, we stopped doing it i think
m: good riddance
d: i've never seen so many ugly mexican women in my life
d: well, all like 3 of them
m: LMAO
d: lol, low budget strip club, what can i say, wasn't much to look at =/
d: and they made it REALLY dark cuz they knew haha
m: what, where they like pudgy or what lol
d: uhm no, just bad faces, definitely not hot.
m: butterfaces?
d: yeah hardcore except more like butter-everything
m: HAHAHA that's just horrible
d: u think it was horrible?! what about me.
m: SHIVERS. just now.
d: :( QUICK say something funny
d: no wait, say something profound
d: no wait, say something crazy
d: wait, say something happy
m: THE JUBILEE OF HAVING THE HONOR TO KNOW SUCH AN ALCOCER BRINGS CONTENT TO MY HEART.
d: lol cute ty =p
d: lol jubilee hahahahaha
m: i know, right? first word that came to mind.
d: lol one of a kind you are

LATER THAT DAY...
m: psst
d: hi
m: writer's block
d: oh noes, may i be of assistance
m: neh, i think I'm just procrastinating lol
d: bad girl :( ur a rebel!
m: yeh...that may be.
d: O_O i like ur style
d: u got sass, and spunk
d: any other s words
m: so is that like...sassunk
d: what about style
m: or...spass...
m: or spank.
d: spassyle?
d: spankyle?
d: spank kyle?
m: hmm i know many kyles
m: none of which i'd like to spank
d: what if they're being naughty
m: i will tell them to go fuck themselves.
d: would u rather them spank u
m: no, i'm self conscious about my ass, thanks.
d: so you'd rather spank them
d: in fact, you'd rather spank kyle
d: i win.
m: fine.

Tuesday, October 21, 2008

hiccups

i'm a big fan of plaine and simple, nice stories. I was home a few weekends ago and I couldn't help but smile at this one story my mother told me: My aunt and uncle went to the Philippines a while ago to visit my grandfather (who, by the way, is a completely awesome fisherman for being someone in his 90s) and my other cousins/uncles/aunts. My grandmother died when I was super young so I don't really recall her as much as I would love to. But I heard she was amazing. Or should I say perfect. Moving onward though, my aunt and uncle decided to visit her grave and upon reaching it, realized that it was so dirty, weeds sprouting out in different directions, just completely unkempt. Here's what I hated most: when they said that all the other gravestones around her were clean and maintained. It hurt my feelings just knowing that no one was coming to visit her; I'd probably be visiting her frequently if I lived over there. So a man comes up to them at the cemetery and tells them that he is the one who keeps all of the other graves clean and up to standards. He offered to help out the grave's upkeep for 100 pesos (which is about $2.25) a month. A MONTH! So my uncle (this really hit the spot) gave him 2400 pesos. That's TWO years of maintenance. And that's not all...my uncle gives him another 500 pesos so that he could buy milk for his children. WTF?! Although monetary assistance might be a little materialistic in some terms, but this, my friends, was one of the greatest gifts of all. I'm pretty proud to have an uncle who doesn't mind shelling out bucks to help out. Pride.

Is it weird for me to enjoy Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders Making the Team 3? It's really interesting. The girls are so damn beautiful. There was this one episode where the training camp consisted of measuring their body fat. It wasn't a weighing scale but this huge tub of water where they had to sit in this chair underwater and exhale all the oxygen they could. These kids had 12-15% body fat. I probably have 60%. And they would totally bash these girls for having 24% body fat because "the uniforms are unforgiving." -____-

I finally turned in job applications at three different locations. C'mon, one of them has to want me, need me. =) Either of them would be totally awesome. Clothes, designer jeans, and sushi? I'm there.

I also recently bought an old school camera. The only problem is finding the film to go with it. Yes, film. Never heard of it? Oh, it goes way back in the day. Those damn spools are really difficult to search for. Sigh. Someone help me find some. I'll take my first picture with it of you. Hah.

I typed this while I had hiccups, mother fuckers. Out.

Thursday, October 9, 2008

superman needed

can you read my mind?
Do you know what it is that you do to me?
I don't know who you are, just a friend from another star.
Here I am like a kid out of school, holding hands with a god.
I'm a fool.
Will you look at me?
Quivering like a little girl, shivering.
You can see right through me.
Can you read my mind?
Can you picture the things I'm thinking of?
Wondering why you are all the wonderful things you are.
You can fly; you belong in the sky.
You and I could belong to each other.
If you need a friend, I'm the one to fly to.
If you need to be loved, here I am.
Read my mind.

-Lois Lane in Superman, 1978.

ps. Yeah, Christopher Reeve was pretty hot as Superman.

Wednesday, October 8, 2008

eco's imbroglio

i'm sorry, but Eco's article on the myth of Superman that I had to read for my writing class just got me so utterly confused, I have no idea what he's trying to say. This one damn paragraph got me foaming at the mouth:

For Husserl, the "I" is free inasmuch as it is in the past. In effect, the past determines me and therefore also determines my future, but the future, in turn, "frees" the past. My temporality is my freedom and on my freedom depends my "Being-having-been" which determines me. But, in its continuous synthesis with the future, the content of my "Being-having-been" depends on the future. Now, if the "I" is free because it is already-determined together with the "I-that-should-be," there exists within this freedom (so encumbered by conditions, so burdened with what was and is hence irreversible) a "sorrowfulness" (Schmerzhaftigkeit) which is none other than "facticity." Each time I plan, I notice the tragic nature of the condition in which I find myself, without being able to avoid it. Nevertheless, I plan to oppose the tragic elements with the possibility of something positive, which is a change from that which is and which I put into effect as I direct myself toward the future. Plan, freedom and condition are articulated while I observe this connection of structures in my actions, according to a dimension of responsibility. This is what Husserl observes when he says that in this "directed" being of the "I" toward possible scopes in ideal "teleology" is established and that the future as possible "having" with respect to the original futurity in which I already always am is the universal prefiguration of the aim of life.

...

...........

WUH?

Anyways, Nancy and I have found it to be an 11:30pm ritual to have late night wii battles/tournaments. I'm usually the victor. BWAHAHA. It's kind of our Zumba workout. It makes up for the times we'd say we would head over to the ARC but turned out to be complete failures with flabs. Flabby failures is what we are. But no no no, not when it comes to the wii.

Monday, October 6, 2008

the hundreds

greetings earthlings. It's the one hundredth tale from a trivial teenager!


To christen the occasion, I think a long, in-depth, meaningful entry is at hand. So if you're ready for some random moments and juxtapositions, I think you've found the right place.

I'd like to start off by sharing that living in an apartment with three of the most awesome girls I have ever met is something that I will cherish forever. I didn't think we would mesh so well, and not to sound cliche or anything, but it feels like I've seriously known these girls for quite some time. Our lack of food brings us closer because we actually have to decide where and what to eat. Yesterday marked the first real roommate dinner for all of us. Well, plus our "technical fifth roommate" Tom.

m: Let's join a sorority with Nancy winter quarter.
f: Can't we make our own sorority?
m: Ok, name it.
f: Quad-Delta?
m: Perfect.

You know in those 80's movies where teenagers wake up and miss the bus so they have to run to the next stop to actually catch the bus? My story is just like that one, straight out from those movies, except with more heavy breathing. There I was, hurrying out of the apartment, locking the door, scurrying to the bus stop when I see the bus leave the stop. Deciding whether to just skip class or run to the next bus stop a few feet away, I booked it choosing the latter option. Not only did I make it, I had to sort of stop running a few feet before the stop just so I could still look cool and be somewhat fashionably late. The heavy panting calmed down to a mere...not-so-heavy panting. Damn shuttles and their crazy stop times.

We will be welcoming a new member to our sorority house (Delta Delta Delta Delta) by the name of Porkchop. Now, I'm not quite certain if he's named after the dog in the cartoon show Doug, but he is cute nevertheless. He is a maltese yorkie and will be loved endlessly in the vicinities of our very hearts. So come visit him! Or us.

STOP SPENDING MONEY YOU DON'T HAVE, MARISSA. (This is just for my personal reference.)

In other news, Mr. Lancaster came to visit recently. He promised me a cool poster to put on my blank art-forsaken walls. My walls are his canvas. We went to a shopping center nearby, and upon seeing a large purse, he inquired:

b: Can I ask a question?
m: Sure.
b: What is the use of bags this large? To put their babies in?
m: Yes.

I'd like to take a moment to talk about myself. I know that may seem weird, but I haven't really talked about myself lately. I've shared my experiences and feelings, but nothing truly concrete. I just want to tell you all what I've realized about myself so far, not as confusing case files about myself, but as solid Marissa stuff. I've noticed I don't quite fit in sometimes. As strange as it sounds, I guess that's what makes me...well, me. I hate clubbing, I don't listen to certain music that most people do, I speak using words I learned studying for the SATs, my sense of humor is a little bit more...advanced? I love using quips. I fancy people who use quips in everyday language. I am not a slut. I don't see the use of dressing up like whores. Well...I guess if you were one, then that's a different story. I don't dress up looking like I'm asking for it. Simplicity overrules everything in the end. I have trouble learning certain things. I avoid any sort of confrontation. I hate those suckers. I have somewhat of a inferior complex. But honestly, I don't think it shows. I do what I want. I say what I want. I eat what I want. When I see something I like, it's hard for me to achieve it. However, when I see something I like when shopping, then I go for it in a flash. But sometimes I get picky about things. I get picky about what color to get, or what clothes to wear, or just what facial expression to use (hah). I hate the smell of acetone and yet I enjoy mixing up the color of my nails. I don't like asking for favors from people. I only accept favors that are within reason. I love music that makes me feel good and that make my heart race. This year is going to be a great year...academically. I'm gonna stick it to the man.

I'm in desperate need of an extremely comfy and soft body pillow...for those lonely nights you aren't here to hold me.

Okay, so usually I'm not a big Lifetime movies fan, BUT just recently, I watched A Piece of My Heart or Perfect Opposites (as some would call it). I wasn't expecting much, just the usual romantic mumbo jumbo that we all know and cherish. Plus, Martin Henderson looked like a quite charming young lad. The last time I cried over a movie was over August Rush, which still touches my heart. But this movie, dang it, tore down the dams of my tear ducts even if it was just for a little while. Everyone needs a good little weep every now and then. So here I am, watching this movie (I kind of missed the first few minutes of it but I'm guessing it didn't really show much, I got the gist of it though), and I made a few connections of my life through it. Especially one line that hit very close to home: "He adored me. It's what I needed at that time." I want to be adored. LOL. So if you ever get the chance, it's actually not that bad. Lifetime caught me in their little emotional movie vortex.



I think this is a big enough entry, oui? Til next time, I bid you adieu.
Sincerely,
the girl with the quizzical brow.