Why am I here?

Good evening! I'm here to discuss my life with you. I'm sure that's a welcome subject, right?
Of course it is. You love me.
Well, now! I'm feeling positively cheerful now! After threats from Mom and pleas from Austin and admonitions from Francisco, I finally forced myself to go out and buy food for myself! I had to look pretty hard to find a place that didn't have many people in it, but finally I found a little cafe that sold Chinese and Korean food. That's what I'm used to, of course, so in I went and got some chicken and dumplings and stuff, and I took it back to my room and ate the whole blame box. I kept telling myself to save some for tomorrow, but it went so fast. Actually, no, I did save some dumplings in the refrigerator. But, yeah! I'm a fatty and I have no self control! Which is, in the grand scheme of things, a good thing, because maybe now I can set myself on the road to health again. I think my ribs were starting to pop out. I feel really proud, too; I just conquered fear and started in on my rehabilitation to normalcy, and man, it shouldn't feel like such a victory, but it is. Whee!
Speaking of Francisco (well, I mean, I mentioned him), he's been such a prop to my old age and a helpmeet to my helplessness and all that good stuff. He Skypes me when I'm lonely, and he texts me every day, and he tries to make me feel better and give me advice. He was trying to tell me how to cook so I won't die of starvation (with varying degrees of success), and he's even nice to Austin (I accidentally set them talking to each other on Skype, did I mention that?). I just really appreciate him, I mean, he's such a good friend to have. It's so nice to feel like he's got my back here and all.
Ew, that was mushy. I'm really a sentimentalist at heart.
Now it's time to annoy you all by talking about Austin! Aren't you happy I decided to come on here tonight? I really am a treasure. Now. It occurred to me that my booboo comprises most of the ideals on which I decided when I was younger than I am now. So, to prove the point, I will faithfully reproduce and comment on an ancient script, lovingly archived from Thursday, July 23 2009:

❤ Hot  Gurl, let me tell you...

❤ Tall (taller than me at least) I go up a little past his shoulder. Aww.

❤ Wisecracker Yup.

❤ Not a dumbass (yet he should have just a bit of stupidity about him...) I think that describes him perfectly. The bb.

❤ Popular ★ (yet not a ladies' man) Exactly right.

❤ Somewhat athletic He works out a lot and once I saw him with his shirt off and fjkefjhfjh oh my.

❤ Somewhat musical He sings like a mountain stream and his guitar playing is lovely too.

❤ SDA Okay, no, he's Catholic. But you know.

❤ Nice (he shouldn't be all mushy, just not a total meanie either) Well, he's only a little mushy.

❤ Not be afraid to show his soft side (Not that he ever should! Not a girly man!) Okay, well, he's a bit of a girly man. Like, he spends more time on his hair than I do. And he takes care not to chip his nails. And he has a whole bathroom of products I don't even know. But I mean. 

❤ Loyal to his homies (and of course me!) He and his bros are tighter than bananas.

❤ Not a horrible dresser He dresses like Dean Winchester in prep school and it makes my heart sing like a wind in a tree every time I see him.

❤ Likes me the way I are He tells me often that I'm "perfect" and "an inspiration to him."

❤ Confident (not cocky though...) Well, he's not some kind of Damon Wildeve or anything, but he has enough confidence to make him quite attractive.

❤ Not completely unromantic (but not the sort of guy who would keep you up all night caterwauling at your window) jdkhljfhlesrjd

❤ Doesn't give me a bad feeling (He doesn't make me want to get away!) Quite the opposite.

❤ Not interested in doing it If he was, he wouldn't tell me unless I was.

❤ Actually reads stuff (he doesn't have to pore over heavy tomes of War And Peace or The Day Mikhail Piolwska Tragically Died, but he should at least know the alphabet!) Well, I mean, he's not me, but he reads some stuff, and he writes down all the stuff I say I like, so his book list is full of stuff like The Brothers Karamazov and Atlas Shrugged and poetry.

❤ Not selfish He's such a sweetie, really. ♥

❤ Kind of like me We're alike in some ways, but different in others.

❤ Kind of unlike me Oh, there we go.

❤ Likes music (very important!) Shore does. 

❤ Doesn't cuss me out Wtf kind of boyfriend did I think I was going to get anyway? Of course he doesn't! 

❤ Likes to talk a lot He does. Other times we can sit in nice happy silence.

❤ Doesn't text or call every five minutes (read: not possessive) Hmm, well, he does text me a lot, but that's only because I want to talk to him. If I don't reply, he won't belabor it.

❤ A badass! (but he should be totally nice in his heart! *sigh*) I have a hard time picturing him as a badass, but I suppose he is good at League, so maybe that counts for something.

❤ Doesn't have horrible skin He uses toner, and his skin is almost as clear as mine.

❤ Smart He got 100% on the AP Chem final, so I mean.

❤ Independent Free as an eagle in the sky. But like still attached to his family and all.

❤ Not interested in mean whacked out conspiracy theories (but he should think all the rest are funny) Oh my goodness, these criteria, I don't know... But yes, as a matter of fact, he thinks the more ridiculous conspiracies are vastly amusing.

❤ Interesting I think so.

❤ Someone I can spill my guts to (i.e a true friend. Swoon!) I can. And I do. Sorry, Austin.

❤ Not fat I'm tellin ya he got the body!

❤ Polite/respectful (but I ain't takin' no dick on a stick either! Ya hear?) Always (to me at least) (not to his silly and mannish friends, but they're all guys and are rude to each other, so that's okay)

❤ Doesn't have a name like Ethelbert or Lars Come on now.

❤ Doesn't have glasses Well, he does, but he wears contacts because he thinks his glasses make him look like a nerd. Just so you know, he still looks hot in them. But whatever.

❤ Mixed race (like meeeeeee!) No, sorry! But he does speak Tagalog. Unf.

❤ Likes animals He is a dog whisperer, apparently.

KYAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!

So, yes, that's my love story. He really is quite a catch. I JUST WISH I COULD BE SURE HE REALLY LIKED ME! I think I'll text Chris (Kitty's potential beau). He and Austin are good friends, and maybe I can get all the scoop. You know, I really like Chris. He's so relaxing. A lot of the time, I can't be sure if a guy wants to talk to me or to "talk" to me, but with him, it's clear– we're just friendly friends, because he's in love with Kitty, and it's just the best thing. It's like Daisy and Nick or Harry Potter and Luna Lovegood, or like, I dunno, something, but I mean, you don't even know. Anyway, I think I'll ask him what Austin was like when he was dating Jenna or Marie or Alexa, because then I can get a good answer (I can't ask Jenna because she doesn't like me, and I can't ask the other two, because I don't know them well, although that would be better). Yeah, that's what I'll do! Good on you, Jasmine. You got a head on your shoulders all right. 

Why am I so thirsty? I keep drinking water, and it doesn't do anything. Maybe I have diptheria. I probably caught it when I was wandering around in the different labs today between classes. The science buildings have nice bathrooms, see, and they're very interesting, and I wanted to look around. I went in the basement of the chemistry building, and it looked very dangerous indeed. I felt like the coolest of the cool down there and remembered fondly my own chemistry days. Then I went to the math building and went to my Logic and Formal Reasoning class and remembered fondly my calculus days, and it was just fun all around.

Oh yeah! Linguistics 2001, i.e Logic and Formal Reasoning, is so interesting! I really like it. There are a lot of people who are taking it to avoid taking the math GE, so I don't know if that's a good sign or not, but there is one other linguistics major in there, and the syllabus looks amazingly cool. There are 17 of us in there, but only three of us are freshmen. The other two are cute guys, yay. There are actually a lot of cute guys here. My opera class is full of them. Very aesthetic, I do appreciate it. These sentences are so short, what am I doing? I need to get some better syntax here or I will be up the creek without so much as a semicolon to keep me company in my paddle-less state.

Maybe teh colleeg will help with that.

Tomorrow I get to sleep in late, and I'm happy about that, but I should probably get to bed anyway. My poor roommate is trying to sleep, and I feel like someday she will get fed up with my antics and I will be alone in the world once again. So, off I go. Goodnight now!

More sad

I'm so hungry and miserable and cranky and I miss Austin and I want to go home and why is the world such a cruel place ugh
I sound like such a brat, what's wrong with me?
No, okay, you know what, I have a lot of stuff to worry about, okay? Like, you know, I have a license to complain, and you bet your butt I'm going to, especially on here, since no one will ever know and all will be secretive and well. I'm so hungry! Why am I so hungry? I have no self control. I had coffee this morning before I went to class, and then when I came back to my dorm, I thought it might make it easier to walk around and open doors and things if I had sugar, so I had that little packet of cookies they gave me at one of those horrific orientations (there were like ten little coin-sized pieces in there though, wtf man, is this marketing or something?) and now I'm hungry again! It's 7:30, so it's about dinner time, but there are a lot of people outside, and anyway it's raining (which is really wonderful and amazing, actually), so I feel like I would look even more ridiculous, traipsing along like a poor little orphan waif all by myself. I had a meeting with my mentor group, and they gave me these two cookies, and I can't stop staring at them. Ugh, I really do have no self control. If I don't eat them tonight, I won't have to buy food tomorrow, and it will be a real money saver. What's wrong with me anyway? I know my meal schedule is really unhealthy, but usually I should be able to handle it! I wish food weren't so expensive. I'm determined not to cost my poor mom any more money than she's already spent on me, but I didn't bring much cash with me, and my bank doesn't have a branch here, so once the money I have with me runs out, I'll be stuck. I have a meal plan, but it's really confusing, and I think I can only use it once per day. Or does it tap into the 150 dollars I have on my Buck ID (such a punny name)? If so, that's pretty bad news for me, because I've been using it to buy stuff at Starbucks. I think they're different, though. I want to cancel my meal plan, actually, because I can't bring myself to go to the cafeterias, and it'll be wasted if I don't. What is the matter with me? I can't, just absolutely, flat-out can't eat in public by myself; I can only drink stuff (hence my liquid diet). So I can go to the market and buy prepared foods, but they're really expensive, and if I did that often, I would only be able to eat like every other day or something. Why do humans need food? This is terrible. The fabled freshman fifteen is such a lie. I haven't weighed myself since I've been here, but I feel like I've lost like five pounds just from this unhealthy life I've been leading. I want to be able to have a normal life though! I can't live like this forever, can I? I went to dinner with my roommate and the girls across the hall yesterday (and it was ruinously expensive, let me tell you). Maybe I can do it again. No, they left. Man! I'm going to live my life with no friends and I'll be lonely forever and die of sadness at age 30 and never get to be rich and happy! And all because I was a loser in college! Well, I mean, all my life, really, but now is where it is the most visibly acute. Oh no, what if I pass out or something? I don't think I will, though. I feel so dizzy and weak all the time though, it's really distracting. I wonder if it will interfere with my classes.
Oh hang on. My roommate's out, so if I went and got takeout something, I could come back here and eat it alone and no one would be the wiser! Okeydokey! Let's do this! Go Jasmine go!

Intermedio

That was a really clever title, okay. I'm proud.
It's 11:48, and my next class is at 12:40, and I have no idea what I'm going to do for all this time in the interim of classlessness. Well, actually, in about 20 minutes I should start walking over so I won't be late as I was this morning. No, well, okay, I was technically five minutes early, but the professor had started already, and most of my classmates were already sitting in the room quietly and meekly reading the syllabus to themselves, so I felt really awkward marching in with my sunglasses and Starbucks (my breakfast) and making myself at home. But I did it. And it looks like a wonderful class, really. The music department is collaborating with the city's theater to put on Madama Butterfly, and the teacher wants us all to go see it. We also get to pick either Tosca or Eugene Onegin or The Nose, and I'm really excited. I think I might pick Eugene Onegin, since I would already be seeing a Puccini, but I don't know, man, I just don't know! I've never heard much Shostakovich either, and that might be fun to see! Tickets are like thirty bucks though. I can't afford to see them all. Actually, I can barely afford to see one. Why am I so poor? There was this one guy who sat across from me who looked like he thought he knew everything, replete with hipster glasses, neck beard, and abstinence from note-taking, and he looked at me with that pitying look that people do when they think that they are smarter than you and they wonder how you managed to get into the class. So, anyway, whenever the teacher would ask us if we knew about something in the background of the lesson, such as humanism or Arcadian literature, or Renaissance politics, or whatever, he would raise his hand, looking superior, and calmly and sweetly, so would I. Eventually he started to look like his world had been turned upside. It was very funny. So, I suppose the moral lesson of the day here is to not judge people whom you deem to be incompetent, even if they do have big obnoxious sunglasses and pink Hello Kitty stationery.
Oh, yes. We learned about intermedios, which are allegorical scenes between acts of plays, and the precursors to opera. I don't know if this post is an allegory or not, but it certainly is a break in the tragedy and drama of my day!
I have English next, and I'm so excited! I want to learn everything, man! I hope we don't need the book, though. I haven't bought it yet, because I wasn't sure if we needed it, and I didn't want to waste money. I guess I'll see. Maybe I can share with someone and become his new best friend. Wouldn't that be darling, now. We could walk around campus together, laughing at everyone, and telling lame jokes, and going to eat everywhere because we would feel no shame, and the world would explode into harmony and trilling sweetness and the clear tones of bells and beautiful poetic diction (I'm getting a foot up on it already). But maybe we won't need the book at all and then my plans would be ruined. Ah well. Maybe someday my prince will come and we can rule the Castile and Aragon of the heart together. Oh my goodness, that's such a good pick-up line. I should tell it to Austin next time he tries one on me.
You know, I'm actually a little worried about this all now. I'm looking forward to my classes, but what if I don't meet anyone I like, and I'm alone like I am now forever? I don't want to be alone! I want to find Hank and Francisco and Ellis Wyatt and Rangnar Danneskjöld and be a Dagny among compatriots! I don't want to find John Galt, though. No thanks. But yeah! What if I don't make friends with anyone and I have to go through my life with only the pale memories of friends I once had? I could maybe write an opera about it, but I don't think it would be very beneficial to my health and well-being overall. Actually, no, that's a really good idea. So, I think I'll make a reality TV show about my sad, lonely, life at college, and then people can laugh at my misery and give me good ratings, and I'll at least be able to afford tickets to the opera, even if I have to go there alone. It will be called Jasmine and No Friends, and it will be great. Will people get that, though? I mean, it's meant to be like Barney and Friends, but maybe it will be too opaque. But anyway, I think I have something here.
Okay, time for me to leave for English. Yay!

Date me

Here I am again! I'm going to tell you about my lovely Austin, since there is a mole of people outside my room and I'm stuck in here for the present.
I also need to cheer myself up.
So! This summer, as you very well know, I had five guys to whom I was talking, although really, it should be four, since although Francisco may not be out of the running, he has a girlfriend, and I'm always careful not to disturb their relationship. But anyway. There was Ethan, and Tim, and Jesse, and Austin. The other three are really annoying, so let's not worry about them. I never thought Austin liked me, even though he was always flirting with me (I think), and I always assume a platonic relationship with everyone until proven otherwise (and sometimes not even then). He talked to me a lot, though, and when I invited him to CKC to help, he came, and kept coming (and he says he'll keep going even though I'm not there anymore, bby). And then I saw that entry of his on tumblr, but I wasn't positive still. Then on the Tuesday before I left, we wanted to meet up and hang out, but I couldn't in the day, because I went to the LACMA with Dad (which was the best thing ever by the way), and when I got back, Allie and Sonia wanted to go to a brewery to eat ice cream, because it was on sale. So we went, and it was fun, but then Allie's weird new friends showed up, and I didn't know them, so I got quiet, and Sonia didn't know them, so she got awkward. They made us go to Red Robin, and I was bored, so I texted Austin to see if he wanted to come over. He showed up fifteen minutes later, and it was quite hilarious to see everyone's reaction to his beauty. We decided to leave and go to Barnes and Noble, because that's my jam, and we thought we'd bring Sonia, since she wasn't happy there either. But then she had to go, and it was just us. But anyway, we wandered around reading stuff until closing time, and then we hung out a little more, but Mom wanted me to go home, so he drove me back (by the way, he was so nice about it, completely opposite of nasty Ethan– did I write about my unhappy date with him?). We got out of his car and talked for a bit, and then he kissed me, and it was such a surprise and I went, "Oh hi there soldier! Wellp, gotta go!" and ran away. But I was happy, and I guess he knew it, because he was happy too. Then the next day, he came to CKC to help, and one of the kids tried to teach him violin, and it was the cutest thing ever, and we talked for awhile more, and he played a song he wrote for me and fjfhjkehkjhfk it was lovely. He gave me a letter that he wrote too, and it was the sweetest love letter I've ever read, and I died (metaphorically speaking). So then, the next day, which was the day before I left, he came over in the evening, and we went to Red Robin, and ate about a million calories. It was so fun! I was barely uncomfortable eating in front of him! Now that's sayin something. But he got the receipt and said he would keep it to remember, and I was sure he couldn't mean what I thought he might mean, so I said, "Yeee that's smart, I always keep track of my expenditures too!"But I guess he did mean what I thought after all. So we went back to my house, and we sat in the back of his car in the romantic early evening light, and he played and sang for me and then we talked about random stuff and I've never been so happy with any guy before (except Francisco, but he doesn't count, obviously). Then Sonia came over to say goodbye to me, and she stayed for a couple hours, and we all talked about stuff. Finally, her parents came to get her, and she had to go, so Austin and I were alone again. I kept meaning to go in and pack, but I didn't want to leave, so I stayed out there until about 10:00, and only went in when Mom came home from work and saw him kissing me (I'm so glad it wasn't Dad though). So I finished packing, and got up early the next morning to go to school with Kitty and say goodbye to her, and when I came back, he was waiting for me at my house to say goodbye. Dad said he was "positively underfoot," but I didn't think he was. I cried so much when I left, ugh, let's not dwell on that. Anyway! So he's been texting me and skyping and everything, and I miss him so much and phooey on earth, I even dream about him. I really don't want to have it bad for him, you know? I don't want to fall in love! It only ends in ruin for everyone! But I don't know how to stop myself.
Oh, he wants to skype before my roommate comes back for dinner. Sounds good to me!
All right, so it's late, but I'm nervous about my classes tomorrow, and I can't sleep, so I'm going to write some more. Now, let me see, where was I? Oh right. So, I really don't want to fall in love, because I feel like it will just lead to problems. I think I'm going to be made a fool of, one way or another, and that's something my extraordinary hubris hates (that was nice personification, wasn't it?). I'm so afraid he'll turn out to have been playing an elaborate joke on me, and sharing it with all his friends, and they're all laughing up their sleeves together even now. Because, let's be real here, why would someone as lovely as he like me? Of course, the obvious answer is that he wants to get into my pants, and yes, that's another matter on which I'm concerned. No one likes me for me; they like me for my pretty face and my 20 inch waist and my double D cup size. I know that sounds really vain and horrible, and I'm ashamed to write it even now, but then again, if everyone and their uncle Ted is encouraged to proclaim their beauty to the world, why should I not be allowed to as well? Anyway, so even if Austin isn't playing some kind of middle-school-type prank, he's probably too focused on what I look like to be interested in who I am at all. That's how it always is, and it's never going to change until I get uglier, and then maybe people will listen to what I have to say. Really, I can talk about literally anything, and the universal response (from guys anyway) will be along the lines of, "that's cute sweetheart, but let me see your tits." (I never let them, of course) I guess I'm exaggerating a little, because guys whom I'm just friends with will usually think of me as a person, but I was talking about guys in the romantic sense, and those are two different things, and don't you forget it! I simply can't believe anyone would like me romantically in a purely respectful way, and no matter what Austin says, there's always a little doubt in the back of my mind that he means it. Oh, don't go thinking that I bring this sort of thing up to him, though! I would never do something so rude or whiny. This blog is my feelings dump, remember. It's so frustrating, too! I want to believe that he's different from the others, but I can't bring myself to do it, so whenever he says anything cute (which is fairly often), I try to say something noncommittal so that I won't look stupid later. But I can't stop my silly heart from bouncing around each time either! You see the problem here? Loving someone makes you weak, and I can't stand to be weak, but then there's a part of me that does want to give in to sentiment! Of course, though, as soon as he starts school, I'm pretty sure he'll find another, prettier, more suitable, girl and he'll forget me entirely. He is incredibly attractive, of course, and there'll be no end of people lining up to date him, and that'll be the end of that. So I guess I won't have to worry long, and I can be free to hit on everyone on campus with reckless abandon. But, see, I don't want to do that! I just want him! Oh man. That was the worst thing to say. I'm really getting it bad. This is the first time I've acted so atrociously, isn't it? I've never liked the guys I've dated even half as much. I feel like such a silly person. Why is this happening to me? Why couldn't I live my life in cold romantic detachment, as I had been doing? Maybe if I concentrate, I can stop this whole train wreck in its tracks (ayyy), and save my dignity.
Oh, he just texted me! What did he say? Here we go:
I'm guessing you went to sleep :P Well, yeah, the thing I was afraid to tell you was that I like telling everyone that you're my girlfriend. LOL. Ehh. Fireworks are going off, and I really wish you were my girlfriend right now. I miss you so much. :( Good night sleep tight don't let the bedbugs bite!
And silly me, when I read that, my first thought was, "But I want to be your girlfriend!" And then the other part of my mind took over and I realized my mistake. I'm so stupid (and that's something I thought I would never say again). I can't believe I'm having all these emotional problems.
I don't know, man! I don't want to trust in love, but he makes me so happy! And when he breaks it off in the fall when he starts school, what if I have a round of sadness and get distracted from my studies? I don't know what to do. Should I stay or should I go? I could manufacture a fight with him, and then I wouldn't have to put myself through the imminent shame coming my way, but I don't want to lose him, and anyway, I don't know if he would fight with me. I can be a complete jerk, and he texts back with the sweetest things and then I feel like an asshole and I have to remind myself that he's probably laughing at me behind my back with his buddies. But what if he's not? I would be almost as happy as I was in AP Lit if we could have a real relationship (and were closer, but you know). No, no, I can't be so gullible. Why should I fall for the oldest trick in the romantic manual? I have to be mature. I'm not some giggling schoolgirl anymore (actually, I suppose I technically am, oops), and I have to be ready to make my own way in the world. Even if that means forsaking romance forever.
Now, I don't want to be one of those horrible people who focuses on one thing only, and that thing is uninteresting to the world at large, but I'll probably revisit this theme in the future. It's so complicated, and there's so much more I want to say (that's another problem, I want to talk about him all the time, but I hate it when people do that, so I never ever bring him up), but it's late, and maybe I can sleep if I try, so I'll try to go to bed now. Goodnight!

Insecurity City

Classes start tomorrow, so today is my free day on campus. It's horrible. I haven't met anyone yet (I mean, I have, but I haven't adopted them as my new best friends yet or anything), and my roommate seems to be of the popular variety, so I'm all by myself. At least I have Austin and Francisco to keep me company (in a way). I just had my audition for choir. I really want to be in the Chorale more than anything else, because it's the university's chamber singers, but it's only open to sophomores and above (just like in high school), so that wasn't an option. My other choice was Symphonic Choir, because it's a mixed classical group and they sing with the orchestra and with the Chorale sometimes, but it didn't fit my schedule. So I had to audition for University Chorus, which is for non-music majors (which I am) and for people who are bad at music (which I'm not). My audition was so horrible! I haven't sung for a long time, because I mean I'm here, and so my voice is all nasty and crackly. That made me nervous, so I missed the fourth on the sightreading, and she made me do it again, and ugh, I've never missed anything on note reading before! She didn't go over rhythm, so I didn't have a chance to redeem myself, and when she did the listening, I missed the augmented fourth she played, and now I feel so ashamed of myself. I've never auditioned so badly for anything, not even when I was a dorky sixth-grader trying out for the high school orchestra. She put me in University Chorus as a first soprano, but I mean, how hard is it to get in there? Somehow I don't think it's very hard. I guess I'm glad to sing the part I'm used to, but she didn't really check my range, and I feel like she just put me there because I sound like Pikachu when I talk. I have a three-and-a-half octave range! Why does no one appreciate this fact? I feel like such a loser now, ugh. I might join the orchestra instead, although Symphony Orchestra doesn't fit my schedule, so I have to be in one of the non-audition groups, which, of course, won't be very good. So, is it better to be in a mediocre choir or a bad orchestra? I want to play violin here, but I don't want to be stuck playing Star Wars medleys and bowdlerized versions of Aaron Copeland pieces. Do you see my dilemma? Maybe I should be in the choir and take violin lessons. I've heard the teacher is decent. I wish I had more information about these ensembles! If I were in California, I would know easily, but this is such unknown territory, and there's no way to find out for sure which group is the best. Wait, okay, you know, Symphonic Choir used to fit my schedule, but they changed it, so do you think they could have changed Symphony Orchestra too? Maybe it's in the evenings now, or on Tuesday and Thursday instead of Monday, Wednesday, and Friday! Then I could audition for it, and expand my options (perhaps). The Mozart isn't really polished though. That's a problem. I could use the Raff, but I don't think it's the right choice, somehow. Oh dear, I feel so terrible and so overwhelmed and so flipping hungry, I think I'm going to go mug someone just to make myself feel better. There are plenty of people to pick from here.
Oh yeah! There are 7000 people in my class! I feel like I'm in a subsection of the city or something (I guess I am). We had to go to three orientations yesterday, and I got to fully appreciate the scale of the student body. I didn't appreciate the orientations, though, let me tell you. They were such a waste of time, and they were led by the most cursedly jolly and hearty people, and they made us do the wave, and they didn't tell us anything new. They did give us free lunch, though, which is good. I haven't eaten anything since then. I'm trying to convince myself that I'm not hungry, because I'm so embarrassed to go out and try to find food for myself, but it's been more than a day, and pretty soon, I'm going to have to go for it. I wish I weren't so awkward! Why am I so awkward? I don't have to be scared of anyone (except rapists, of which 85% of people are, apparently, so maybe I should be scared), and no one is better than me, so I should just jump into the world with a big ole hearty grin and a back-slapping, gorge-raising, log-cabin attitude and lots of spunk! It's so hard though. Do you know what it's like to be so afraid of everyone that you walk the other way whenever you see anyone, even if it's out of your way? I hate it. Why can't I be a normal individual? Most people aren't afraid of their fellow humans. You know, though, once I know someone, I'm fine; it's just the getting-to-know-him part that's so difficult. And I don't think people like me here. Although, I think that about everyone, so that might be just my imagination. But no, I think it's true. I try to smile at people and say hello as I pass, since that helps to prevent assaulters from assaulting you (because it's not as anonymous and now you can pick them out of a lineup and so on), but a lot of the time, people just give me a funny look and move on. Now, it could be that they are potential rapists and I have foiled their plan, but I'm more inclined to think they don't like me, and that makes it hard for me to want to approach anyone in a way that's not safety oriented. So I've been hiding in my dorm room a lot and talking to Austin and Francisco and Sonia and other people from back home and trying to stay out of the way of the world. It's bad, but I'm too afraid to do anything else. Why am I so pathetic? Oh my goodness. I need to do something. Maybe I should take to drink.
That's a sad block of text right there, yes it is. If anyone read it, he would try to put me in counseling or something. Actually, they do offer free counseling here. Maybe I should go. What do I say though? It's not like I have anxiety or depression or anything that would give me a reasonable reason to be there. Nah trick, I ain't goin to no counseling! I've driven off four psychologists before and I've no faith in the business whatsoever (at least as it applies to me). Oh my goodness, I'm so hungry! I shouldn't be, though. I had coffee this morning. Maybe I can wait until tomorrow when classes start and there will be general chaos and people won't judge me as much. I hope I don't faint or anything. That would be really embarrassing. Oh no, my metabolism is going to get all slow! When I was into starving myself before, it got so I couldn't digest anything, and I actually gained weight instead of losing it, and it was terrible. Nowadays, my metabolism is fast again, and I eat like a longshoreman and still weigh 98 pounds, but with this silliness of mine, I'm going to become unhealthy again! I am going to cry. No, wait, I actually might. What on earth am I going to do?
Oh goodness. I had to go to the bathroom, so I went out in the hall (the bathroom is a communal one, which fact I abhor), and there are about a million people out there! I got in okay, but then when I came out, there was a huge group of tall, scary, people around my door. So I tried to be unobtrusive, but they saw me, and I guess someone must have said something, but they all got quiet and were staring at me, and I was so scared, I couldn't do anything but give them all a nasty look and disappear inside my room. Then they all started laughing at my social ineptitude and going, "Ouch! Burn!" and stuff, and I'm going to live the rest of my life in here and never see the light of day again. I feel like crying oh my goodness, I hate the world. Why am I such a freak?
You know, I absolutely hate the general school of thought that pretty people have no problems in their lives. No, friends, that's wrong! Pretty people have more! If you look good, you're always going to stand out, so you can never disappear quietly into the background, especially if you hold yourself with confidence, which I do (but don't possess), and dress nicely (which I also do). So if you have to walk past a giant string of people, and you're afraid, you have to be 100 times more afraid, because they're going to notice you, and maybe say something, and maybe rape you, and if they do, everyone will say it's your fault because pretty people are always asking for it, right? And if you're pretty, no one will want to talk to you, either because they think you're stupid and stuck-up, or because they're of the mentality that everyone pretty belongs to "the man" and should be shunned with all the strength of their average-looking superiors (this is a very popular school of thought on tumblr and among most people my age). And if you're too shy to approach people to talk to them, you can only hope that people will talk to you, and no one will do that if you're pretty. They assume that you are popular already, and they don't have to bother, so you're stuck without anyone to whom you can turn. And of course, there's this idea that if you're pretty, you live a charmed life automatically, and that's something you can't debunk in a day, so it's just bad all around. Beautiful people are never happy, I'm sure of it. Helen of Troy may have launched a thousand ships, but I bet she never launched many friendships (ayy that was a play on words see what I did there swag). So, to keep your pride and keep from falling apart, you have to put on a snooty demeanor and be exactly the opposite of the person you really are, and it's all so horrible. I'm not complaining about being pretty, mind you, I'm complaining about its consequences, and there's a difference, but I'm sure this all makes me seem shallow and like a terrible person. There's such a double standard here– pretty people or people who are exceptional in any way are never allowed to be unhappy with how they look, or they're vapid and vain, but normal people can complain all they want about everything and it's fine. I feel like I'm in Atlas Shrugged or something.
I'm a horrible person. This is why no one likes me.
I need to take my mind off things. Let me tell you about Austin so I can distract myself. I'm sure you'd be glad to know about him too. But I'm going to put him in another entry so that this one can be purely emo mush. Otay? Otay.

I'm in the Ontario airport sobbing my head off. Whee! Everyone is giving me weird looks. Okay, I'll write more later. Bye!

College is a'comin

Oh dear, I have to go to college this week.
Well bless me, that's quite a puling thing to say isn't it! Oh no, I have to go get an education and make lasting connections and achieve a dream of 1% of the world's population, what on earth am I going to do? But I don't think you understand. I'm petrified. I just know I'm going to be the Kevin of the campus, or even the Durko, if I'm very unlucky, and there's nothing I'm going to be able to do about it. I'm trying to make myself talk to the other people in my special Honors Group™ and it's really hard! My roommate seems to be quite a chatty soul, so I'm fine with talking to her over Facebook, but I feel like when I meet her in person, it'll be a different story entirely. And she's only one of what, a thousand? I don't want to star in a modern setting of The Glass Menagerie! How in the name of Andrew Jackson's underwear am I going to pull this one off? I fear I've reached a point I cannot pass, and yet I must pass this test, or life will pass me by– kind of like the ship of Theseus of the academic world, actually– and there's no way out but to live! That sounds like quite a fine statement, incidentally. I wonder how I thought it up. Maybe it belongs to a famous poem and I'm merely demonstrating my ignorance here. But that's good I suppose, since I need to be prepared for that when college takes me by the soul. This whole debacle still doesn't seem real! I feel like I could be fourteen years old again, living in fear of starting high school, and without another care in the world. I certainly look like it. Oh shoot, will that pose a problem? Maybe people will discriminate against me because of my youthful looks! Should I pack mature and sophisticated clothes to circumvent my potentially puerile impression? Or maybe I can wear baggy sweatshirts and jeans and poorly-fitting tennis shoes all the livelong day and people won't look at me twice to judge me. Sadly, I don't own any of those items, so that might be a bit of an issue to work around as well. Oh, no, I guess I do own one sweatshirt now. Jackie gave me one on the last day of AP Lit, because it had the Ohio State insignia on it, and she's going to UCR. It's roughly the size of the Appalachian mountains, but it's soft and fuzzy, and it will keep me warm in the obscenely frigid mid-Western temperatures, which, according to my ever-helpful roommate, reach the low twenties by November. And here I was thinking it was practically Dis on earth when it got into the forties this January. Wellp, I guess I won't have to worry about having a chill time; if I can be as cool as everyone there, that would be very ice. No for reals though, what am I going to do? I have one leather jacket from Forever 21, one white fleece coat from the thrift store, several unsubstantial sweaters, and now one Gargantua-sized OSU propaganda garment. This winter won't be fun in any wise, no sirree, I wonder if I'll actually get frostbite and die. Roomie Melissa would get a free 4.0 (at least according to Hollywood), but somehow, I don't feel that altruistic. I mean, she was in the National Honor Society in high school (much like me); I don't think she'll have any trouble keeping up her grades. Should I buy pants? I don't think I want to bother. Strangely enough, they don't keep me as warm as a couple layers of tights do, and I feel so extremely uncomfortable in them that I'd really rather brave the wrath of the Frost King than wear them. By the way, the Frost King was my very favorite fairy tale when I was younger! The girl marries King Frost, and everyone else dies. It's very uplifting and fun, and so Slavic it gives me chills (I've good company in being chilled, I suppose). But where was I? Oh, yes. So, I've never been comfortable in pants for as long as I remember; I was kicked off my soccer team in first grade for refusing to play in anything but a skirt, and the few times I was persuaded to outfit myself in one of the few pairs of pants I owned, I would manufacture spills so I could change out of them. I suppose it might be unwelcome socialization, but I don't think so. Mom wore pants quite a bit, especially around us kids, and I never partook of anything with a message detrimental to feminism in any way, since that was something on which Mom and Dad were very strict. So pretty much, I'd say it's just my preference, and that's where we stand today. And if anyone tries to tell me that I'm the antithesis of progress again, I will personally write to the IRS and ask that his or her income taxes be doubled each year in a lovely exponential spiral of despair. Ooh, I'm so villainous! I should get a big cloak and swirl it threateningly! That might be useful for Ohio, actually. Hmm.
I got a new bag for college when we went to Chinatown on Friday! It's so cute. It has smiling peppers and milk and sunflowers and bunnies and all that sort of thing on it, and its zippers are rainbow-colored, and there are pockets for everything! There are even two water bottle holders, one on each side. Now, tell me that isn't the lap of luxury! I think I'll be able to fit Daisy Bell inside, and it's big enough for all my cute notebooks and Hello Kitty pencil case and pink strawberry folder and decorated graphing calculator (actually no, not that I guess, I'm leaving it for Kitty) and everything I need to look like the requisite Daisy Buchanan of the class, which is, of course, the foremost of everyone's priorities. I can even fit any book I care to bring with me in there and take it along for the ride! And you know what that book will be? Why, A Shropshire Lad, of course! Mom and Kitty bought it for me yesterday, and I love it very much. It's small and light, so even though I promised myself I wouldn't bring any books with me, I'm going to bring it with me. I've wanted it for two years (possibly three), and I'm not giving it up so easily now. I think I have all my school supplies (except my textbooks), so I'm prepared on that front, but do you know, I haven't started packing anything yet. Oh Jasmine, you crazy kook! I hear the voices say. Are you up to your old highjinks again? The voices are quite right. I am. I haven't even gone so far as to take a suitcase out of the garage. I did start making a packing list the other day, but I got distracted by the books in my room and skived off to compare the analyses of Prometheus Unbound in my swap meet book and my Barnes and Noble one. Now there's a very beautifully decorated, but not entirely helpful, half-finished packing list reposing under my pillow along with enough paperwork to practically furnish another library of Alexandria. I've been hoping it will seep into my head whilst I sleep and give me motivation, but so far it hasn't worked. But since I leave early Friday morning, I really need to get started, so tomorrow I'll finish that list for real and start on my packing. Let's go!
I did accomplish one excellent feat today. See, Mom has given me her favorite dress from when she was my age, and it's so beautiful and delicate-looking, and I love it. Unfortunately, it was way too long. So this afternoon, I pulled out the straight pins, and got to work. I had to measure it on Sungmin (who is almost my size now), poor boy, but eventually I got the hem where I wanted it, and I set to work with some white thread, a suspiciously small-eyed needle, and a good deal of energy. It wasn't hard after the sorry saga of my Chamber Singer dress, but it wasn't easy either, and I can assure you with a fair amount of confidence that I will never be a professional seamstress. Frustrations and tangles aside though, it's all done, and it looks perfect (to me anyway). It's a lovely tea-length now, and I'm going to wear it to CKC this week so Austin can see the fruitful work of my hands and respect me as the Dagny Taggart of the land (since she did once fix John Galt's shirt). Oh right! He's been coming to CKC these past few weeks! And every time I see him, we both get less tongue-tied. At this rate, I reckon we'll be having ordinary conversations by Christmastime. He says he wrote a song for me, but he can't find the right time to sing it. I'm very curious about this song, and I can't help wondering if it's any better than Francisco's, which is terribly crass of me of course, but you can't kill curiosity. I also want to hear him sing, because I haven't before, and I'm sure his voice is charming. Just like him, bby.
Well now, I think this ol cowpoke's rambled enough. Time to get back to the ole ranch house and get me some shut-eye! Tomarraw gon' come bright'n'early, and we gotta steer the steers to Alabamy. Goodnight now pardner!
I mean, good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say good night till it be morrow. Of course.