The last 5 days

(because the world can't have enough Musical theater references...)

Thursday:

Knotts day!  It was awesome.  Hung out with Liz the entire time.  We went on pretty much every ride.   And we also tried the new ride.  Pony express.  Which was definitely built by a man who has no mind for boobs.

The mechanics of the ride kinda force you to lean against a fake pony head.  And for the guys that worked perfectly.  But for the girls, it means your boobs are continuously forced against the hard plastic.  And its a bumpy ride.  Totally uncomfortable.

Friday:

So I got to riverside around 10:15ish.  Pretty cool.  I went and paid off my taps ticket (freaking taps...) then went to the housing services to pick up the parking permit (freaking envelope stuffers...)  Then went over to Allen's.  Yay!  We laughed at his failed attempt to make coffee cake and go down to run errands on campus.

Then we meet at Evans.  And play DnD.  Which was awesome in its own way.  I got to play a character that basically did whatever it wanted.  And I could possibly blow stuff up.  Awesomeness.

Then we went for boba and fried rice.  Then we went to Allen's and listened to "the rapist."  And danced a bit.

Then we swam at Bree's!  And I got to show off my rather horrendous sunburn.  

Saturday:

Left Bree's at about 10:30ish.  And experienced a rather beautiful drive down there, with alternate mapquest directions.  The road it told me to get off on was gorgeous.  Full of trees and rocks and hills and a sunflower farm.  The only problem with it is that it dead ended before hitting the proper road.  And...I took right.  It only took me a few miles to realize I went the wrong way.

Jessica's party was kinda great.  Allen's family is already kinda fun to be around, even more so when they're slightly tipsy.  

The best part of the night had to deal with his bouncy little seven (?) year old cousin.  They offered me cake, which I had to decline because of the extreme levels of sugar I had had that day.  So...they just handed it as a second piece to the already hyper little boy.  And he just stuck his fork in it and lifted the entire piece up and ate it.  Then he started zipping across the room and saying hi to random people.  

Sunday:

Got to spend some time with Allen, thankfully.  I still had to leave for Beth's.

But then...RADIOHEAD!  I mean, the car ride with L. was kinda awkward, mostly because I tried to be somewhat civil and it obviously just made him feel totally uncomfortable but whatever.  He can't spoil Radiohead.

They were...breathtaking.  Utterly breathtaking.  The light show, the music, the sounds, the vibrations, the people yelling and clapping, the random celebrities walking by (OMG I SAW THE GUY WHO PLAYS JIM ON THE OFFICE!)

And Radiohead was awesome.  

Hate

There are only three people in the world I hate.  I've said that many times, but today I had a weird experience with it.

Namely through the "People you may know" section of facebook.

So, I was briefly glancing through it.  Usually its cool, finding people I know, laughing at the person who defriended me when I got radiohead tickets first, seeing people from elementary school, and then...

The person I least expected to see on that list appeared.

I mean, two of the three people I hate are my age.  One of them went to High School with me and messed with me, and the other went to high school with a friend and messed with a friend.  It'd be kinda logical to see them pop up on facebook.  They're at least in my generation.

But no.  This guy is around 50 now.  And somehow we know enough people in common to "possibly know each other".  It freaks me out.  Of course, out of all three people I hate, this is the guy that utterly frightens me the most.  The guy I'm most afraid of seeing again.  The guy that, if he showed up at UCR or something, I'd call the police.  Or leave the school.  

But why the heck is he on facebook?  He's a freaking 50 year old guy!  Why the heck would he need a facebook?

Garfield minus garfield

I kinda stumbled on something interesting. Everyone knows the comic garfield, right? Well, someone on the internet took all traces of Garfield out of the comic, leaving only Jon Arbuckle. The comic is so freaking depressing now. http://garfieldminusgarfield.net/post/32126020 and http://garfieldminusgarfield.net/post/29219552

Random thoughts

These last few days have been wonderful.  I love my friends.  As with all good friends, thoughts happen when you're with them.  So here are some:

• We all love contradictions.  For example, we all laugh on the line in Dr. Horrible:  "It's a brand new day/and the sun is high/and all the angels sing/that you're gonna die."  And we love the turnaround.  We love the image of all being happy and angels singing and then "you're gonna die."  We love the idea on screen of a couple fighting, and that's how they show they love each other.   We love the idea of a villain that believes wholeheartedly that they are correct.  
• It's hard for me to sit still.  I blame ADD.  But, after one day of watching movies basically all day long, it was hard for me to keep my mind on one track the next day.  So movies make ADD worse?  Or is it that long periods of movies affect.
• I blame Beth for this next one:  It's easier to stomach gory movies if you see the "making of." that includes the gory blood details.  However, gore in movies does not make up for crappy acting.
• Thrift stores have everything, unless you're specifically looking for it.  Its the Murphy's law of thrift stores.
• It's kinda a mind trip if there's someone at the same party/area/hangout as you who looks like you from behind.  Especially if you have kinda distinctive hair.  I kept on thinking I was looking at myself whenever I glanced at Beth with her new haircut with her back towards me.  It was surreal.
• My mind thinks in musical theater.
• It's always interesting to be on the other side of problems that you once were in.  Always interesting, and a bit haunting.

Quiet? Shy? Too loud?

At school everyone tells me to be louder.  More outspoken.  Project while singing.  Belt it.  Have more confidence in my voice.  Don't whisper sing.

The one time, the ONE time I've decided to practice singing at home, I get halfway through redoing "Gimmie Gimmie" from Thoroughly Modern Millie, and my sister comes in and yells at me to be quieter.  

The problem with Christianity.

Or: Why I don't like visiting churches.

Let me preface this immediately:  I am a Christian.  I don't know if I could be considered a strong Christian, as I have crisises (crisi?) of faith around two or three times a year.   So weak Christian?  I don't think I'm that bad.  

Anyways, yes.  I am still a Christian.  I consider myself a Christian.  Most people consider me a Christian.  Whatever.  Not that that matters too much.

But Christianity as an institution bothers me sometimes.  Make that most of the time.

For one thing, we're a religion based on forgiveness, yet, most of the time, we judge.  Yeah, that's almost become stereotypical to say, but its true.  We have little tolerance for mistakes.  

We're a religion of perfectionists.  And that sucks.

And its ignoring a huge issue. The church, as an institution, is supposed to bring people closer to God.  And its fine with "keeping" people close to God.  It likes those who are closer to God.  

But what about those who struggle with their faith?  If (and this is a pretty huge if) they ever mention it, they get a "pray and read the bible" band-aid, and that's all.  They might get a copy of "40 days of purpose", if they're lucky.

Furthermore, everyone would feel uncomfortable.  Awkward.  We make all this small talk at church, but no one really likes to hear about someone's deep and utter misery.  

And then that's the struggling with their faith side of it.  What about sins we constantly warn and judge against?  What about lying?  What about stealing?  What about sexual sin?

That's a big one.  The church is always warning against it.  "Don't have sex before marriage, you'll fail!"  "Don't do this, it'll mess you up for life!"  "Don't do this, you'll be forever changed!"

While I'm not saying that this isn't a big issue, I think we're losing track of the VERY thing our faith is based on. Forgiveness.  Are you saying that sexual sin is too big for God to forgive?  Are you saying that sexual sin is outside of God's realm?  Yes, I'm not arguing that it could cause some issues, or guilt, or differences in opinion, but come on, God can forgive those, too.   God's bigger than your sin, and he's bigger than a dirty mind.  He can still use a person no matter what, even if they're "sinful" or "dirty" or "twisted".

(and to my mother, who might be worried, don't worry, this isn't about me, this is an attitude I've observed.)

But could a person really get help in church for this?  What help is available?  People would just sit back and feel uncomfortable and tell them to pray.

Say, if, in my college aged bible study at Whittier Hills, when someone asked how I was, and I said "I've been seriously doubting that God even exists" (which I doubt about twice a year), I'd get a double take, a concerned face, and they would ask if I've prayed about.  Then move on to a less uncomfortable topic of conversation.

Cars? Say what?

I've been busy the last few days.  Went out to Riverside to spend the night with Bree, then go get my paycheck, then go to a photoshoot, then go to see Andrew Mena in his Charlie Brown play (aww), then go spend the night over at Allen's, then hang out with him all the next day.  I got back at about midnight last night.

So, the really big occurrences these last two days happened around cars.  

When Allen was driving over to Bree's house, his check engine light came on.  When we got there, it turns out his OIL WAS COMPLETELY OUT.  (Cue "and this is how Lyn learns how to check oil.")  (Cue also "And this is when Lyn learns that it is darned near impossible to find what type of oil an older car uses on the internet)

So we decided to go on an adventure to find oil.  At approximately 11:56 pm.  Approximately.  So we (me, Allen, Bree, Jad, and Evan) piled into my car to go to Kreagans.  Evan looked  up Dr. Horrible's sing along blog on his iphone, and we plugged it into my car's speakers.  AMAZING!

Kreagans was closed.

So was walmart.

We ended up going to a gas station.

Friggin Insomnia!

So, ever since coming home from bear facts, I've had nightmares.  They've been somewhat annoying.  

The first night I dreamt I needed to find someone who had been shot.  My sleep-self thought it was Laura Roslin, for some reason.  But once I found her, the room blew up.  And then I was beaten up by a fat guy.

The next night I dreamt I was thrown in prison for 20 years and had Darth Vader as a cell mate.  And he wouldn't stop singing the Fresh Prince of Bel Air song.  And once I got out of prison I found that everyone else had moved on with their lives, and there was no one left to talk to.  Depressing.

The next night (last night) I had to attend a wedding in the same church that Mrs. Endemano's funeral was held, and I couldn't concentrate on the friend's wedding because I kept on thinking about dead people.  (even in my dreams I have ADD.) 

But tonight...I just can't sleep.  I'm utterly exhausted.  I walked 2.5 or 3 miles today.  I should be sleeping soundly.  I should've been fast asleep by 11 or something.  But no.  My mind's going too fast.  Way too fast.  As in, why am I even thinking about this fast.

Sometimes I worry to much.  I worry about things in my past becoming a pattern.  I worry that I'll push people away by worrying.  I worry that my worrying is unattractive, counter productive.  And that of course does wonders when I'm an insomniac.

I just want to sleep!  I want to just wake up feeling well rested!  The last two nights I took nyquil, and that didn't work.  I just...want to sleep.  Its repetitive.  But that's really what's going through my mind.

And then I remember the other major times I've had insomnia.  Sophomore and Junior Year of high school.  Not good times for me.  Last summer, mid august.  Also not good time.  Last February.  Not so wonderful.   And remembering the insomnia brings back the reasons for the insomnia.  Which are always lovely to revisit.  

I just want to sleep.  I was hoping I could bore myself into sleeping.  I'm frustrated with the book I was reading.  I can't write in this state of mind.  I don't want to read anything that actually requires a coherent brain.  

Sleep would be nice.

coffee shops and assumptions

So, today I walked over to the Big Straw.  Yeah, that's about three miles away.  Only problem I had were a few guys wolf whistling.  That's it.  

Anyways, once I got there, I found out that the cafe is mostly populated with biola students.  And, after getting there, apparently everyone assumed I was a biola student.  Loverly.

I wrote there for quite a while.  People came and went, but one unique thing about this coffee shop was that everyone was really really friendly.  As in, they were all curious what I was doing.  And when I said writing a script they all got excited and started talking about the Biola film program.  I had to explain that yes, I am a film student but no, I don't go to biola.  

"Oh!  Are you just visiting down here?"

"No, my family lives here."

"Oh!  Where are you from?"

"Whittier.  I go to school in Riverside."

"Riverside?  All the way out there?  They have a film program?"

"Sorta."  

lemoncello and walking the dog

So, when I'm home, my parents give me stuff to drink occasionally.  Nothing serious.  The worst (best?) thing they've given me is a chocolate martini.  And all that did was make me very (very) talkative.  But then, I was also around people.

So tonight my parents gave me a glass of lemoncello (which is basically lemon juice and vodka and a little bit of sugar).  And then told me to go walk the dog.  So I didn't have anyone to talk to.  

So basically, my mind started to wander.  I started to think about life, death, summer, love, friends, and the past.  Specifically last summer.

This summer is already ten times better than last.  I have reliable, dependable friends who won't backstab me.  This time I'm confident that I won't lose them.  I can actually be myself, be my weird, nerdy, abnormal self, and not have to worry that they'll reject me.  

I thought about how I've changed.  My self esteem isn't based on people who might reject me.  It isn't based on people who did reject me.  And I think I'm a better person for it.

That to say, I also gave a significant part of my walk to the thought of death.  And how gross decaying bodies are.  I swear, that was my thought process.  

And not to mention I thought about how humorous it would be to have a messed up tattoo:

"Just my name.  Bob."

...after a while...

"There's two 'O's in Bob, right?"

So random.

New blog

I'm very tired of Myspace's blogging feature.  I might still post blogs there, but not too often.  I'm not too much a fan of the formatting, the rules, and the limits.  So no more.

My other blog, my xanga (the how-can-you-tell-I-still-deal-with-drama blog) is much more secret.  As in, only like three people read it.  Which isn't exactly what I'm aiming for.  I'm aiming for more of a blog I can email people, show them how I'm doing, without having to worry about them stumbling along on some weird thing in my xanga history or the weirdness of my myspace.

So.  Entry.

Today I went over to Sarah's and we ran her dogs.  Yeah, the little dachshunds.  Wiener dogs.  It was night, the street lamps were humming.  The pavement was still warm, and the wind was cool.  

There's something primally pleasurable about running through the night.  Its not hot, its not cold, its not bright, but pleasant.  Its silent enough that you can hear your heartbeat along with your footsteps and the clicking of the little dogs' claws against the pavement.

And the little humor of the dachshunds helped.  I mean, those dogs are meant to be funny.  They tried to attack a cat.  I'm pretty sure that cat would have whooped them if we hadn't gotten the leashes away.  And the leashes were those spiffy extendable ones.  Kinda fun to have the tiny dog run up ahead, then you stop the leash from extending.  They're almost light enough that they get airborne.  But not quite.  

And then walking around at night with a friend.  

I always like walking around.  Walking with a friend only makes it better.  I talk more when I'm walking or physically moving around.  Its weird, but its true.  I'm more apt to share a secret or divulge about something thats been bugging me.  That's why I walk around when I talk on the phone.  If I didn't I wouldn't really talk, I'd just listen.