Well, fuck. I think I installed Windows XP twice on my computer. This can't be good. I now have the privilege of choosing between the XP upgrade and the XP complete every time I turn on my computer. Whoo! At least installation worked. Howard mocks my moron interface, but it's so pretty and colorful. Oooh! Look at the animations!
During move-in last night, my brother dropped my printer in the Dykstra Hall parking lot. As a result, my printer is now retarded. I tried printing a five-word test sheet today and it took my printer a minute to do so. One minute. 60 seconds. A fucking orgasm! I don't understand. I was dropped on my head several times as a child and I think I'm perfectly normal, perfectly healthy. I am…right?
Quick thought: When a plane crashes into a building, it's a tragedy. When a snowboarder crashes into the chairlift line, it's "okay." Go figure.
Black Sunday is upon us here at UCLA, the last weekend day before school begins where students go and get "totally fucked up," as my roommate says. I don't think you've been formally introduced to my new roommate. His name is Matt and he's from Long Beach, but he might as well be Jae Min, seeing as how they're the exact same person with different skin colors. Yep, I get some quality roommates. Let's take a trip down memory lane.
First, there was Daniel, the pasty white transfer student from South San Francisco who thought he was black and looked seriously retarded. Then, there was Huntington Beach Ray, who had a hamster fetish and spent all his time (free and not) playing the same computer game. Next, there was Jason who, on the rare occasions he surfaced in the dorms, would watch Fear Factor and Friends avidly. And who can forget Chet, the unfortunately typical San Diego boy who absolutely couldn't live without air conditioning and always seemed to get caught masturbating? Dorm life, to me, is a neverending episode of Blind Date, except that I never score.
It can't be good when you're recognized on your floor first and foremost for the shape of your room.
I simply don't get this whole "being social" thing. I can only be social for so long before I start getting self-conscious about my acting abilities. In fact, I'm happier in my self-imposed solitary confinement. There's no pressure to deliver. Is that so wrong? I mean, is partying really that fun that it merits consecutive nights devoted to it? I suppose… Hey, something for everybody. Still, why be cool for the hell of it? All the "cool" people at UCLA and basically every respectable college and university out there had to have been nerds in high school in order to get into the institutions they attend, so why act all cool now?
When it comes to negative criticism, high school and college students rely on four phrases to express all their strong convictions: "is gay," "is overrated," "sucks," and "is fascist." The use of the latter description is the most amusing because I don't think many people today actually know the definition of the word "fascist." There are probably kids out there decrying both chicken quesadillas and Adolf Hitler as fascist. How anthropomorphic of Mexican food to believe in private economic enterprise under centralized governmental control. Moreover, a disillusioned teen once told me that "Keanu Reeves is SO gay and Charlize Theron sucks." In this case, the line between fact and opinion failed to define itself. Why can't the world be like me and just use the word "hate"? Yes, Tool is overrated, but saying "I hate Tool" is much more satisfying.
And no, I did not sell my soul to Best Buy. I sold it to Adam Riff.