Thursday, May 31, 2007

Do you even freaking UNDERSTAND

that today I have eaten NOTHING except for CHEESE AND MINIATURE REESES????

I'm serious.

Now, before you expect me to go all cheese-is-a-dairy-product-and-hey-peanut-butter-is-protein-yeah-baby-rationalization-face on you...let me confess that this was not just any cheese.

It was the kind of cheese that comes out of a can.


Saturday, May 26, 2007

Re: Comments on Last post

Dear Leina,


Love and kisses,

Friday, May 25, 2007

Deprivation Dilemma

Pirates of the Carribbean 3 is playing in theaters RIGHT NOW. AND I HAVE NOT YET SEEN IT.

There are unfortunately two factors contributing to my serious lack of Jack Sparrow:
1. I still have classes. BOOOOOOOOO.
2. The movie is NOT ACTUALLY PLAYING WITHIN 30 MILES OF HERE. Seriously. Remind me not to actually LIVE in the godforsaken middle-of-nowhere.

Fortunately, though we are miles and miles from real civilization, we do have...the Internet. And the Internet, through the tireless work of committed nerd-thieves, has ILLEGAL MOVIES.

Let's all pause and enjoy the delicious irony of pirating a movie about a pirate.

Anyway, the illegal files aren't quite available yet (but there is some ASSHOLE skeeving around the torrent networks trying to pass off a renamed copy of "Naked Sorority Pillowfight Vol. IV"--nice try. Also, rename the FILE and not just the TORRENT. Duh.) But after the juvilile fakes run their course, the movie will be available for download.

Assuming I don't get sued out of my I watch it? Or do I wait to actually get to see it in a theater? Because the theater experience, even in its $3 dollar bottle of water screaming children douchebags talking on cell phones glory is INFINITELY better than watching a jerky, out-of-focus, people walking in front of the camera bootleg.

Hmmm. Ok, decision: I will resist the cams. But if the telesyncs or DVD rips come out before I get home--I'm Jack Sparrowing it all the way.

Tuesday, May 22, 2007





What if she's been blogging about me blogging? Because now I'm blogging about her blogging abou me blogging. WE COULD HIT AN INFINITE LOOP HERE, PEOPLE. I MUST FIND THIS BLOG.

*off to IP-trace*

*and to stop The Awesome Roommate from cackling evily*

*except i don't know how to do that because she can kick my ass*

Monday, May 21, 2007

Currently cringing

DO NOT read the LiveJournal you posted in during high school. Just....don't.

/well some of it is kind of funny
//and some of it is kind of caffeinated
///and a lot of it is kind of weird

Sunday, May 20, 2007

Unfair standards

If we have a group of attractive women who have...imbibed JUST A BIT of liquor, at least two of them will probably, at some point during the evening, make out. This provides excellent photo opportunities, not only of the luscious-lip-locking ladies BUT ALSO of the expressions of any men who happen to be around. Priceless. (No, I can't post the photos, they'll kill me.)

Unfortunately, this situation is rarely reversed. Intoxicated men only want to, rather predictably, make out with women. Which they want to do all the time when they're sober anyway, so WHAT'S THE DAMN POINT? Can't the girls get something interesting to watch here?


Saturday, May 19, 2007


Guys may be assholes, but girls?


The end!

Tuesday, May 15, 2007

There is a reason this is called "I Believe in COFFE" and not "I Believe in Energy Drinks"

And that's because I DON'T believe in energy drinks because they fuck you up goooooooooooood. They mess with your BRAIN. And stuff. And it's kind of like existing off ina very far away bubble while time flows in beautiful, yet shaky colors in front of you.

Those of you who've guessed that I may be under the influence of one of these certain vile liquids, you win the right to feel important for two seconds. Not three. jUst two.


So. Enviga. NOT A GOOD IDEA. First, there's the whole fact that they actually taste good. Seems like a positive right? WRONG. Most energy drinks taste kind of like dishwater fluid after you used it to hose down a skunk who slept on a bed of acidic nuclear waste. This forces you to slow your consumption and prevents you from OVERLOADING YOUR SYSTEM IN FORTY-FIVE SECONDS OF ANDVANCED GULPING BEFORE LECTURE STARTS.

Anyway. The tasting good leads to the overloading which leads to the "I have small, uncomfortable insects in my pants or am having a petit mal seizure" effect, which is...awkward, shall we say. BUT shaking BURNS CALORIES.

And then we come to the really egregious part of this beverage. It claims to have NEGATIVE CALORIES.


No, I've never heard of the, oh SECOND LAW OF THERMODYNAMICS OR ANYTHING. Sheesh.

Ok, my brain is obviously fuzzy, but here's the short version:

Calories are related to the bond energy between the atoms and monomers that make up your food. Protein and sugars have the same number of bonds per molecular weight. One gram protein/sugar = 4 calories. (Which are actually kilocalories, but i'm not going there. Google loves you.)

Fats have lots and LOTS of bonds. Saturated fats have even more bonds. Trans fats have kinda funky bonds, again, worship the Google. But basically bonds = ENERGY.

But Caffeinegirl, you're saying to yourselves. Isn't everything made up of atoms? With energy in their chemical bonds? So why isn't everything food

Ah, I say, this is where the thinking splits. In the scientific world, it is generally accepted that humans evolved to process certain kinds of organic matter. We have enzymes and metabolic processes that can deal with carbohydrates. Cellulose? Not so much. Don't eat grass, or you'll starve to death. Though both are made of of glucosaccharides, the structure on the molecular level is different. (We take advantage of different sugar structures to make zero-calorie artificial sweeteners, btw). It was evolutionarily advantageous for us to be able to process certain kinds of matter, i.e., food.

Now, if you live in Kansas, please ignore everything I just said. Obviously, an intelligent designer said LET THERE BE PEOPLE and there were people. Then he said LET THERE BE LOTS OF TASTY FOOD, especially these things called apples because I'm planning to screw with these humans later. Right.

So, in summary:
1. All matter has chemical bonds
2. The human digestive can break down SOME kinds of matter and harness the chemical bond energy.
3. Kansas is kind of fucked-up.

Therefore: Stuff you put in your mouth has potential energy. If its of the kind compatible with the human digestive system, it has positive calories. If it is of the less compatible, more ornery kind--zero calories. Essentially, nothing can have negative calories. Unless--hmm, my physics knowledge is still JUST A TAD shaky, BUT, if you had some kind of wacko matter that went around destroying bonds in OTHER, already consumed matter, you woudl have negative calories. YOu know what matter breaking bonds of other matter sounds like? IT SOUNDS LIKE NUCLEAR WASTE, PEOPLE. So, eat a nice missle for lunch and let me know how it goes.

Anyway, the logic that Coke is attempting to use to market this stuff has to do with not nuclear waste but with rate of metablism. The rate at which you BURN calroies taht you have already taken in can be affected by any number of factors, including but not limited to: age, overall endocrinology, type of food consumed, amount of sleep, level of activity, number of tiny microscopic gnomes living in your cells, and how many socks you lost in the laundry last Thrusday.

In this case, it has been shown that grean tea = boosted metabolsim. How much? YOUR MILAGE MAY VARY. It is seriously impossible to pin down every factor that could possibly affect your metabolism and how much it will do so in an individual. EVERYTHING you consume affecs your rate of metabolsim in some way! But we don't know how. That's why the convention is just to label how much energy is in the food, and we leave it up to the consumer to determine how much energy they need. Which we apaprently aren't very good at but hey, McNUGGETS!

Basically, we COULD get into how much each food affects your metablism, but it would bmean that a bag of potato chips would have to come with the nutrition facts not printed convenitently on the bag, but with a supplementary encyclopedia-length document. Which, frankly, woud suck.

And this is why Enviga is stuipd. I seem to remmebr that it was REALLY IMIPROTANT for me to establish this point when I started writing this, but now...I think the Enviga's wearing off. Oh well. I'll be fine.

Plus, I know that in my room, there's 2 doubleshots int he fridge.

Note: I didn't post this at the time of writing. Upon reviewing it, however, I decided that the typos/generall nonsense was funny. Or I was too lazy to spellcheck. Your call.

Sunday, May 13, 2007

Passing melodrama

End-of-year banquet for the newspaper staff. The atomsphere is hard to pin down, impossible for a news writer to grab in a one-sentence lead. It's at a country club, fifteen minutes away, so we convene, girls picking delicately through the mud in white heels, and wait for the transportation.

The ride turns out to be a yellow school bus. We're dressed up enough for someone to call it "the ultimate ghetto prom ride," and it is a bit like prom, the news team not quite mixing with the editorial writers, and the sports reporters chilling in the back of the bus. It's almost split boy-girl--or is it men-women--mostly because the cool kids have cars and are already there.

There is pretty, manicured, and it feels like someone is going to yell at you not to touch. But there is no one to chastise, because we are the ones who paid for the facility, and there are no chaperones to dodge. There are legitimate adults, but they are alumni, long-ago reporters, and they are our guests. We invited them.

The cocktail hour stretches awkwardly into two, and those of us forced to sip Shirley Temples are bored. Martinis. Diet Sprites. Victoria's boyfriend is a senior and he slips her an Armeretto Sour.

Dinner is broken up by "remarks" and "acknowledgements," by us, to us, but John Mitchell is drunk and too loud in the back. William Barnard speaks. His biggest story in college was about a discrepancy in the budget for the Board of Trustees. He works now for the Washington Post and saw Watergate unfold live. We ask him questions. I do not.

We're impatient now, because it's after 10 and things are happening on campus. I ride the bus home sitting next to a girl, Caitlin. My age. Studies Government, one of my many majors. We discuss immigration reform and the possible right-wing bias in the Public Policy deparment. We agree that what passes for right-wing here is left of moderate in Middle America, and that Professor Milne's fixation on Hilary Clinton is indiciative of his socialist tendencies.

I change out of my white heels at home and put on a halter top and a piece of denim cloth. Someone has pot for a change, and the frat is smokier than usual. The amount of alchohol on the floor is at about a normal level, and the amount of alchohol in people's systems is obviously too high. The bar, set up on what used to be a pong table, is out of rum. I decline substitutions. An arguement breaks out over a bad serve in Beirut. Caitlin is one of the players, eyes-half closed, leaning on her parnter for support. She does not see me.

I ditch my friends, leave for the relative quiet of the dorms. I sleep in my clothes and barely wake up the next day in time to give a tour to prospective students. Their parents compliment me at the end. I am "professional."

Am I? Perhaps that's what it is, hidng the disorganization and confusion long enough to smile your way through a bullshit presentation. Pretending you know the answers.

I always assumed that the grown-ups knew the answers. As if someone had written them down in a book and everyone had read it. My copy seems to have been lost in the mail.

But my age still ends in "-teen," so I think I can get away with faking it for a little while longer.

I did not forget

It is technically Mother's Day right now. I was reminded of this on Tuesday, when The Awesome Roommate ordered an orchid plant to be delivered to her mother in Chicago.

I considered ordering flowers. I didn't.

My phone is out of battery and will be so out of battery until Monday.

Am I a bad person? Yup. Will it look like I'm just irresponsible and forgot? Probably.

But honestly, I don't care.

Wednesday, May 09, 2007


Ok, so before? I lied.

THIS is the most I have ever wanted to die.

//the horror! The horror!

Tuesday, May 08, 2007


it is perfect right now, green and sunny, but there are two hundred and sixty two nervous chemistry students who could not tell you that the temperature is eighty one degrees because the library is full of stale cold air.

this is the most beautiful place i have ever seen and the most i have ever wanted to die.

but if i close my eyes i see bond angle diagrams and electron shells and that is no way to leave, so i will survive in mortal terror to freak out in a psuedo-dramatic fashion another time.

there needs to be more coffee.

To caffeinate

Or not to caffeinate.

It could work extremely well and I could somehow pass the test.

It could work only a little and wear off just in time for me to crash during the test.


It could work extremely TOO well and I could freak out, run around screaming, and then crash dramatically before the test.

Hopefully it's the latter and I have a highly publicized spazz attack.

Monday, May 07, 2007

And prom refuses to go away

Because frats have formals.

So I can be the girl who doesn't get asked for FOUR MORE YEARS.

Aren't we supposed to be DONE WITH THIS????????

Leina, this one's for you

I just emptied my Trash--6,785 items.



So I studied for most of the day. Holed up in the lounge on the floor, suffered through the chem. Didn't understand the chem, cursed it, read it again, and generally died.

Made a break for it around 7pm. I went outside, went to the dining hall, got food, milled around in the library, walked over to office hours for chem...

in the middle of which I realized that I was wearing slippers.


Sunday, May 06, 2007

So, why is The Awesome Roommate so awesome?

Next year, she is unfortunately becoming The Awesome Former Roommate (stupid STUPID housing lottery), but I assure you, the "Awesome" status will be maintained.


There is here, as there was at my high school, a particular social hirearchy regarding the lacrosse team. As playing lacrosse is apparently an accomplishment on par with curing cancer, the guys who play lacrosse are at the top of the ladder. Interestingly, while the girls who play lacrosse are high up, they are NOT at the top. That particular position is taken by the oh-so-lovely group of Louis Vuitton-sporting bleached hair anorexic bitch girls.

As that moniker is slightly long, The Awesome Roommate took it upon herself to reduce it: they've now been dubbed the "Laxie Sweethearts."

So perfect, people.

Friday, May 04, 2007

Things that bother me

1. People who open the window when it's 28 degrees.

2. Lack of cookies.

3. Texas.

4. Presidents from Texas.

5. The way my comp sci prof says "access."

6. When you don't go to a gay pride event and people accuse you of not being an ally, except you're really just a person with a chemistry midterm.

7. Not playing the violin.

8. Playing the violin.

9. The absence of fucking phone jacks from our room.

10. Girls who look skinny in white leggings.

11. Toast.

12. YouTube and its ability to make you spend hundreds of hours doing nothing.

13. That my feet cracked.

14. People who run nine miles and tell you about it.

15. That I'm procrastinating so much that I am procrastinating from writing other, more meaningful blog posts. Let alone my chem homework.

16. Randy Jackson's excessive use of the word "dawg."

17. That The Awesome Roommate can SANG and doesn't give a shit that she can.