Bicycles, Cycles, and Life's Cycle

Walking back tonight, the air felt like jagged little icicles piercing through my skin. It was surreal. Was I still in California? Should it feel this painful to walk in the night? Words of a truly spoiled individual. 

Sometimes I think I look into subtle things a little too deeply. Coincidences and ironic situations for example. I live for them or something. I overanalyze every situation, kill it till its dead and then resurrect it through flashbacks.

However,

There's this guy. I know his name now. I even have his number. It's amazing how I have knowledge to all these valuable things; I haven't even spoken to the guy. No, I know what your'e thinking... I'm a stalker/creeper/psycho. No. The matter of fact is, I haven't even done anything. 

The name and number came to me as some sort of delivery from a friend. I literally woke up to a phone call one day and got these things.

So let's re-cap.

Sometime at the beginning of this quarter... I felt like a pile of shit.

Some weeks later I start to feel like a productive human being again; I go out for yogurt with friends.

While walking back to the apartment from the parking garage this guy is riding his bicycle behind us. I simply say, "Hey, there's someone behind us. Let's divide." We were crowding his path. I know how difficult it is to ride one of those fancy bikes; I see people on the way to York Hall fall from it and eat shit on a daily basis. 

He passes by me and flashes me a smile and says "Thank you."

For some unknown reason, something is sparked inside me. I smile the first real smile I've smiled for weeks. 

So I am riding on this extreme, sudden jolt of adrenaline and so as he rides away on his bike I slap his butt... he was wearing really nice jeans. Don't ask, I don't know.

Just my luck, he turns around and catches me in the act. 

I could have sworn I saw a hint of a mischievous smile... but I ran for dear life. Oh, how embarrassing. UGH!

Literally, the next night. My friends and I are in a car, the light is red and we are next to a bike lane. Guess who was on that lane? Yes. So my friend rolls down the window (I was sitting in the middle) and yells out "Hey! We saw you last night. My friend slapped your ass. She thinks you're cute." I'm about to hyperventilate and die of embarrassment at this point and then I hear "Oh, really..." I think to myself, "Fuck, turn green...green...green....green" It turns green. I am saved!

So I thought that was the last of it. 

Last week of Fall Quarter comes rolling in. It's 2 in the afternoon and I'm still sleeping, sleeping away the torture of finals week. I get a phone call which I routinely ignore with the "ignore" button, but damn, it was a persistent phone call I noticed. I answer on the 5th ring. It was my friend Jackie. Her voice on the opposite line resembles a teeny-bopper me. I think, "WTF is going on?" She spills about her run-in with the "bike boy" and how she knows his name and talked about me and how she got his number for me. I love friends! 

Of course, she gaves me the number later on. I store it, and let it rot in my digital phone book. Again, I think, "Cool, that's the last of it." 

1st Week of Winter Quarter rolls in... I see him at Muir.

2nd Week, I see him by the Che Cafe hill while I am in bus... I've stopped taking the bus, but I just really had to that day for some reason.

3rd Week, we meet each other at the Institute of the Americas area.

Just an hour later, same day... I see him biking around in circles at The Grove.

4th Week, Laundry room... too much to analyze or even mention -__-

Mood: Overwhelmed.

Rolling Down Hills

I rolled down a hill last night.
Simple things are the most thrilling at times.

Sex and Sexuality Adventure

I woke up fairly late for class... 10:21AM. Yes, for a class scheduled at 11AM. haha

After my 11AM class (MMW w/ Prof. Gallant... he's a Micmac) I crashed Jackie's Sex and Sexual Identities class. I decided it was killing like 3 birds w/ one stone. One I got to sort of hang out with Jackie, two Rhett, the guy with this alluring mole that I have a pseudo-crush on is in that class, and three... it's about sex. That's never boring. 

The professor gave me that 90's power bitch feeling. I had to laugh a little. Just as cliche as these sort of classes go... your typical butch lesbian finds herself on the seat next to me. Typical. Also, the topic of the day was "Sexual Psychopaths" with a touch of "The Homosexual Menace".  Gawwwd, I die for these catchy little titles. hahaha The professor had way more on the board, but damn, this one was just worth sharing; The Homosexual Menace. LOL

I learned that the homosexual paranoia boomed during the postwar era (I'm not sure which war) because people wanted that nuclear family sort of stability. It's just a theory though. 

Just after lunch, Jackie crashed my Formations of Modern Art class because "ringlets guy" was in it and I sat next to him like every lecture. Sadly, he hasn't been to class twice in a row now. I'm afraid he has dropped the class and that I am now forced to sit next to his friend who shamelessly wears short shorts. 

I'm not sure where the rest of the day went. Now I'm sitting down, trying to finish this damn RQAB. RQ-effing-AB.

You are my voice, my mind, my microphone.

If I could marry a Jew, I'd marry you. 

Jason Schwartzman <3

We can sing along to all your "semi-romantic" tunes that aren't really meant to evoke a feeling of romance. We both fall together if one falls down? You are my voice, my mind, my microphone :)

I Exist. Again.

I've been trying to re-organize my life, myself lately. It's a tedious process. It's like a mutated jigsaw puzzle that somehow cloned itself, so now there's double the number of pieces that you have to put together.  There are pieces that fit without much thought and then there are others that you spend a lifetime thinking about and in the end you only figure it out because everything else fits and there's nothing left. Does that make sense?

I'm taking two Visual Arts classes this quarter. It's refreshing. I'm finally doing something that I love, something my subconciousness gets excited about without effort. 

There have been a lot of changes with my life. People have come in and out, but this time around it seems to be more defining. The odd thing is, I seem to be ok with everything that's taking place. Good, bad, in between. Maybe I've just become bitter and apathetic to the point that I have this mentality of "oh, well you and you are replaceable. always." I guess if you think about it, sometimes people really are replaceable, no matter what. Sometimes even your parents are. Although, I certainly don't feel that way about my parents. I can't imagine two better people in the world to love me unconditionally. 

I was talking to an old friend a couple days ago. He said that I've changed since high school. I kind of laughed a little; I don't feel like I've changed at all. The experiences I've chosen to have are different, that's for sure, but I think that's only become the case because so many opportunities are much more accessible now. 

I can't decide whether I'm happy or not at this point of my life. I can only say that I'm satisfied and that I seem to be at a stable place. I wake up each day and think with the same sort of mentality I had back when I was a freshman in high school. I was that person who woke up at 5:30 in the morning everyday, no matter what. I had to take my morning shower, put on my make up, put together a cute outfit, have my morning coffee, watch VH1's Nocturnal for my daily music fix, and get to school super early to converse with friends. Wow, I sound like a total social-concious bimbo. But no, that wasn't it. Doing these things, the tedious daily routine... it made me feel good. I'm starting to do that again. 

As far as relationships go. I feel others have gotten stronger, while others I'm starting to realize simply exist as a malignant tumor that must be cut off. I've certainly gotten into the phase of "simplicity". I find myself only buying black and white clothing now. My sheets are two-toned; an off-shade of white and black. My hair is now too short to even keep away from my face. My taste is reverting back into simplicity. I kind of like it. I feel like Picasso and his primitivism movement and that whole Cubism style inspired by African masks. 

Gah!! Homework time :)