draught of living death...or just dead?

today i went to another csf event, some west bay opera thing in palo alto at the lucie stern community center. it was one of those community service activities that i hate which basically includes all activities involving any sort of heavy lifting and hand dirtying. oh the horror! the theater had just finished their production of orfeo et euridice (orpheus and eurydice, the greek myth) and we were basically helping them clean up. during this event, i had some deep thoughts. epiphanies if you will. (this is of course, all subjective because some people are more critical of what is deep and what isn't). first, i realized how chaotic the theatre business really is. all the things you hear about how it's so much work yadda yadda is true. there's so much backstage stuff involved like lights, cables, and props. so much goes on, it's really quite mind-boggling. it was actually pretty amazing (sort of) watching all these technicians scurry around with all these hardware tools and figuring out all this electrical equipment. in addition, i realized how freaking dangerous it is to work backstage, especially during a show when it is pitch black and you can't see where you're going. there is so much complicated equipment, heavy and dangerously sharp objects, and all these tall rafters that you could just fall off of. it was such organized chaos (oxymoron!) 

but then i realized, these are probably all uneducated, closet perverts, and zombies who tell themselves that working in the theater business is a fulfilling life when it obviously isn't. these are the people that will say they dreamed of working in the theatre business but probably failed at acting and had to deal with settling for the backstage hellhole. these are the people who have no lives, wander job to job on minimum wage, and live in loser apartments in the hood. and as if that wasn't already enough, they were all ugly, fat, white, and smelly people who obviously failed at life. now i kinda understand why an education is so important. i really really really don't want to be like them. i want to have a nice job where i don't have to get my hands dirty or lift heavy objects in disgusting, dusty, obviously rat-infested facilities. it's not that the people there weren't nice to us, because they were. they were very cordial and patient with us. it's just that i really don't envy their apparently meaningless lives. i don't want to have sweat dripping down my forehead with my t-shirt v-stained with sweat and working with a bunch of dumb country hicks whose highlight of the day is getting to eat some oily pizza. i want to at least work in a place where personal hygiene is normal, a place where people care about the way they look and wear some freaking deodorant. i mean please. you're fat, hairy, and going to be running around. let's put two and two together people. one plus one equals two. nope. that's not the life i want. you know, maybe they do find some sort of weird fulfillment or satisfaction with their job. if they do, well i'm happy for them. but after watching them work, i don't think i would if i was in their place. their lives just seem to have no purpose, no direction. they were alive but so unmistakably dead at the same time. i can just imagine the technicians coming in one day and finding one of their coworkers hanging from the rafters. that's just kind of bleak and morbid. plus, there was this one girl/guy who was a freaking midget and was maybe a shemale. she/he was so weird looking, i couldn't even tell what gender he/she was. maybe both? or not. he/she had some weird beard thing going on, dressed like a man, but had...boobs? or was that fat? was that a feminine, high pitched voice, or was it low and masculine? i don't even remember. it was basically awkward, confusing, and weird not knowing whether to call a him or her, a mr or ms, and a he or she. just...weeeeird. 

to conclude, read those ap lit books people. getting an education is important so turn in your physics work so you don't regret it. you know who you are. this isn't subtle at all. whatevs. 

until next time. 

Yum, delicious!

So after spending the last three days doing nothing productive despite my mountain high work load, I read the new posts updated by the twins and laughed in that way where a slow grin spreads across your face and then your teeth show and then you kinda open your mouth slightly to laugh aloud and then the next phrase makes me go wtf so your face goes to a frown. Repeat 17 times, give or take three.

Anyways, catching up on sleep is always so delicious. I slept 13 hours in a row on friday-saturday and eight saturday-sunday. And in those hours, I've been having so many crazyass dreams that when my mom wakes me up I always hold some sort of sleep-talk conversation. Take for example, the one I had with her last night:

(So, here, I'm sleeping out on my couch because I fell asleep pretending to read As I Lay Dying)
Mom: Yoona, wake up. Go wash up so you can go to bed.
Yoona: Mhmm.
Mom: Com'on. Get going.
Yoona: No, mom. I didn't do it!
Mom: What?
Yoona: (really loudly and defiantly) I didn't do it.
Mom: ...
Yoona: YEAH. Take that.
Mom: okay, go wash up.
Yoona: I DIDN'T DO IT.
Mom: I know you didn't do it. I believe you. Let's go brush our teeth together, okay?
Yoona: OK. (I get up and go brush my teeth and a minute later, I'm like....Hi mom. Why am I in the bathroom with a toothbrush in my hand...?)
Obviously, this story was recounted by my mom who is so used to this stuff happening. And I have no idea what dream I was referring to when I so defiantly denied godknowswhat.

Sleep is delicious!

Speaking of As I Lay Dying, I want to admit that I haven't read the book fully at all. PHEW. That's right your mofos. I only found out in class on thursday that Addie was a little slut. I've only read up to page 61 out of 261. I just flipped to the end of the book to see what page it ends on, and I think it's interesting that it ends with Cash. I think I'll bring this up in class tomorrow and see how that flies. So I've only fully read and annotated upto page 61 and the rest of the book, I skimmed or asked people for summaries. And I've taken these bits of information to form general ideas, just found new ways to regurgitate the same information or I've formed strong emotional decisions about certain events or characters so that I won't sit there mute and dumb (no offense to those who do, since you guys get the grade even with out your participation grade).

ANYWAY (ooh, I think I put anywayS for the one up there. Too bad, I'm not scrolling back up.), yesterday, my parents made me bring three sheets of scratch paper, since I collect them religiously regardless of size, and sat me down with a map and made me draw my own. I didn't know where El Camino Real was and that got my mom pretty bad. The only street names I knew, I had to connect them to a food spot. Prospect=way back to school from MickeyDs, Frutti, Jack'sBox, Pizzamy<3, etc. Bollinger=Safeway, Burgerking. And that's where our sad list of lunches usually comes to a stop. Oh, Tacobell. Where's that. .............................................................................................................................Bollinger? no.
u
m
De Anza
no it's Bollinger. I'm pretty sure.
Yeah, so the test was really stupid and I just sulked through the whole thing.

I'm hungry, what's for dinner.
I need to read for lit and take care of hellllllllla physics shiz.