Top Ten Reasons to visit Oaktown in Summer

10) All the babies come out to play. (i met harold)
9) Getting yr raft stuck in a tree after taking a wrong turn
8) Learning about new buns in ovens
7) sunburns
6) Gay pride weekend in SF
5) getting pissy
4) rich peoples' gardens
3) Gin and Tonic in the backyard
2) Secret rendezvous
1) The disgusting smell of "the beautiful lake Merritt"

Am I a robot?

How intricate of a machine must you be to have codes that seem like feelings? Sometimes events like the funerals or weddings seem like screenings. Yet the tears will fall during commercials for laundry detergent. There might have been a flaw in the programming. Sometimes I wonder if I was constructed by Hallmark. Or Disney, or some other major entity. Kodak, perhaps?
I don't know, and i wish i did. I sometimes become paranoid that other people can "log on". That my thoughts are being sold to marketing lists, that my turn-ons are being surveyed and all else to the recycle bin. I begin to receive little signals of what seems like real emotion. I begin to register through past experiences relating to this one, in any attempt to explain anything. I open old folders, I scan through faulty links, and i find very little.
Sometimes i think i feel a lack of pertinent operating materials. And sometimes i wonder if the database is secure. I sense a lack of privacy. Things aren't right.

dear diary

i feel like i'm 13 years old, sulking in a lit corner, everything all mixed up and splattered around, making my dramatic entrances, exits, pacing the room in baby steps.....i just miss being a grown-up, and i miss my best friend. I guess at 13, those are two of the most important things. At 25, it's the realization of the obvious.

Chicken Soup for the Alcoholic Soul

Oh suburbia, how i've missed your sweet, crappy strip malls and carbon copied track homes. After being in hillbill-ville, you learn to appreciate punk-ass wiggers with their hip hop ring tones, loitering in front of Walmart, pimpin' their rides, sporting their pro football jerseys. So i hung out with Angie in Temecula and we wallowed in our own separate hells together. It was nice to have a drinking buddy to race the beers down with, to bet on lakers games with, and to have an overall general hatred of things with.....Somehow i got suckered into betting for the Lakers, for some reason I wanted to make a bet even if i had to have the lame, Shaqy team. So i lost, but i didn't even have to experience it because i passed out on her couch before the game had ended.
We figured that we should get out of the house, so we hit the mall. After walking around Macy's for awhile, I decided that no matter how much I dislike mountain living, nothing will ever spawn my affection for the mall. So we left to Barnes and Noble. I walked around trying to find something to spend my $50 gift certificate on, until I came to the self help section. I figured that maybe one of these books could help me do something.....but as I scanned all the soups, I couldn't find a single one for me.

Recipe for Disaster

2 cups of chopped Self-loathing
3 cups of minced dependency
1.5 Liters of Gin
4 miserable limes
5 sprigs of wilted mint leaves
2 tbsp of bitter sweet
and a twist of strong, misdirected anger..........

Mix for hours and serve however...it, like alot of things, doesn't matter.....

I Can't work it...(is it worth it)?

Yep, so i don't know how to insert links into my sidebar. I fooled around with the cut and pasting action of HTML, but nope.

So anyway, I GOT TO LEAVE THE HILL TODAY!!!! After saying this, I just shake my head in grief, and sheepishly accept my fate. Anyhow, I helped my mom buy stuff for my brother's upcoming Vegas wedding. All, i kept thinking, everytime she'd pull out her credit card, was "Geez, this looks like more helping that I'm gonna have to do". She bought lace to wrap chocolates in for all 70 of the guests. And as I said, "Wow, Ricky and Jenna are going to have alot of these things to wrap", she replied "Oh, it's going to be a surprise. You and Rayna will be doing this" Only, we all know the capabilities of Rayna. My goodness.

Our shopping extraganza took us by the cemetary where Grandma is buried, and so we decided that we should pay her a visit. Only it was 8:20pm, and the sign states a 7pm closing. Well, this doesn't stop the tenacity of my mother. So we scale a 4ft. wall, wait for the sprinklers to finish watering Grandma, then go and show her my brother's engraved wedding goblets. It was nice to visit her grave especially because i haven't been there since i was 18. Also, those were nice goblets.

On our way back up the hill, a couple of strange things happened that made me think those weird spooky thoughts. You know, like things are haunted...well, i usually only get these feelings after my mom tells me something freaky, such as her theories on how my grandma's old house is cursed. Anyway, so we were talking about how my mom doesn't want to give this guy, Marty, a loan. I was agreeing that he didn't deserve it, when i remembered that i had to call Sahar about something. So i bring out my cell phone, and its little marker is right on Marty's name. Then I tell my mom, and she also finds it eerie. So she says, "i need a cigarette". I laughed, and i tried to find her lighter because i used it last. Well, earlier in the day, I was reprimanded for breaking her car lighter and getting it stuck in the hole. As i was looking for her lighter, the car lighter pops out. We both look at each other and get scared. Also, imagine the dark, spooky drive up a windy, foresty, mountain road. Alright, alright, so i'm superstitious and silly....FINE. It WAS weird though.
As for my grandma's cursed house, here's the story. My mom just sold it for the following reasons: 1) There was a murder in it. A few months ago, the schizophrenic daughter of the tenant renting the house goes BERZERKY and pulls the bathroom drawer out of it's socket and slams it on her mother's head until she dies of hurt head. 2) Two months before that, while my mom was getting the house prepared for new tenants, Ray decides to try and fix the leaky roof himself. Well, he falls through it and breaks his back. He is still injured today. 3)A year before that, the last tenant claims she always heard creepy noises at night and had terrible nightmares. She also loses her unborn child. 4) And 6 years before that, my grandma finds out she has lung cancer, and progressively gets sicker until she dies.
After hearing all of this, I did get caught in a momentary shiver, until I remembered the following things: 1) Schizophrenia is a very serious mental disorder, and bad things come from not taking your medication 2) Leaky rooves have the tendency to be soft and unstable 3) This one is just creepy 4) My grandma had been a smoker since childhood.

Coming in for a landing....and no roads lie clear

So I have succumbed to the egotistical world of blogs. The fact remains that I enjoy reading about other people's bloglives during my moments of incapacitating boredom, but I kept telling myself, "these sites are not for me". Besides being boring, I never really have new, exciting websites in which to direct anyone. Also, I don't have fanastical adventures as I galavant the town. For god's sake, I'm living on a mountain crawling with hillbillies and "flatlanders"! I don't have Photoshop, or know how to "design" things, nor do I have a bunch of prospective links to other's websites. I'm pretty much screwed. And I believe this is why I rolled my eyes when I first saw the amazingly self-indulgent, ego-mastabatory diary entries on these we"blogs". I think the biggest irk was that I was reading about other people who I only knew from old Fenwick parties, people I didn't talk to, nor talked to me, and well, that's no good, is it? Perhaps I was just saddened by the fact that there really isn't anyone to read this nonsense.