Ohs! I'm so cool. God no wonder I have no life. And to make matters worse, I still have acne! Damn I'm never going to get laid! Lols.
Nah, saves for the parental nagging and the weird requirements to have me go to bed at like 11, living at home is pretty sweet, I don't pay for internet, cable, food or rent. But then again I haven't been paid at work either. I don't get paid until next week, in the mean time though I've been going shopping to buy new clothes because being in San Diego, (well just being out of Berkeley) makes me realize how slobby all my "professional-casual" outfits are. Anyway, hoping that my pay check catches up with my credit cards.
How's work you ask? Well I get discount swag that's made by Johnson and Johnson. So if any of ya'll need acne cream, neutrogena products, other skin care products, or procrit to dope your blood the next time you run a marathon, I am your go to woman. My Boss just had a baby (his wife did) and he's busy writing a paper so he's not in lab much, thank god I've done this before. Everything is pretty sweet. I do the same thing that I did in Berkeley except I get my own hood, I get paid, I get access to more instruments, I don't have to wait in line as long and SOMEONE ELSE actually washes my glassware! OMG. I told my friend at Princeton this and she's like, you had to wash your own glassware at Berkeley? -_- GD Princeton!!! Everyone's super nice, all the cool kids are doing grad school, you should too... lols
Today I got a belated graduation gift in the mail today--the entire New Yorker collection, as in every magazine from 1925 to 2005! At first I was wondering what I would do with all this. I'm not that prolific of a reader and judging by the font size of that magazine, I always assumed it to be above my reading level, and above my patience level (i.e. attention span).
But I'm really touched that someone thinks i'm cultured enough to read this.
I feel like someone could think you're smart and just give you a subscription to the Economist,
but the New Yorker implies you know the stuff in the Economist and you still have enough brain
power left over to process non-essential and sometimes abstract fiction.
My friend from the Australian (OZ) trip came to visit me. We went to Pacific Beach (PB, the white, hence party center of the UCSD undergrad experience). We went to this Australian pub to find some Ozzy beer. They had one and it was sour and over carbonated, it was like drinking bad Sprite. Ohz. Ran into another friend from OZ, ended up crashing a party. I really hate doing that because I don't know anyone and I always feel self consciously asian whenever I'm in SD and big white dudes scare me (especially in large numbers). We got kicked out. Thank god, really. Oh it was also almost a full moon so we went streaking on the beach. Hah. Yup.
Whenever people ask me what I've done since being home, I always say nothing, mainly because these things never come to mind, but I sat down and brainstormed for you guys.
In other news, I fell asleep on the couch and lost one of my kangaroo earrings. I really hate living in a large house, I can't find shit.
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