boretown

friday night, realizing that we, miracle of miracles, were still not tired even though we'd stayed up way past our bedtime, luke and i drove to westwood, ordered too much deliciousness from in 'n out and watched zoolander as we stuffed our pieholes.  of this, i am not ashamed, despite the fact that it was super late and the food was super fatty and that we made a pact not two days before to stop eating so much crap all the time.  in fact, it filled me with a kind of glee i haven't felt since i was living in the dorms in college.  i didn't have the typical rebellious college experience, with lots of booze and sex.  in fact, there was no sex and (nearly) zero booze.  so, to compensate for the fact that i was wound too tight to go to frat parties (which i deemed way too crowded and sweaty and grope-y after finding myself at a "hell" themed fiesta my first year), i found joy in doing slightly less revolutionary things like eating rice and bean burritos and french fries from an on-campus restaurant at 2 am.  

despite being so excited about my greasy haul on friday, being in westwood, so close to campus and surrounded by current UCLA students, made me a little sad.  because i didn't ever go to the one bar in town and because my select few drunken escapades occurred in secluded areas where i knew i couldn't get into too much trouble, i don't really have any particularly "college" memories of school.  add that to the fact that UCLA is incredibly massive and thus nearly impossible to make a mark on, and i start to feel like college was just a place i walked around and studied in for a few years.  

in other news, i'm insanely excited about some crafty things i've started (and won't discuss, because the projects, along with talk of bedtimes and food being my one college rebellion, will embarrass me).  i'm not a particularly artistic person, so making tiny trinkets makes me feel like i'm creating, in pretty much the only way i can.  i just wish the closest joann's (where i procure the items necessary for my embarrassing projects) wasn't such a total hellhole.  it's on lincoln in santa monica, inside what appears to be a former warehouse.  the place is totally enormous and everything inside has the washed out look of the outside of a sun-baked house or a picture from the 70s.  even the cash registers and counters are nondescript and depressing.  possibly most upsetting, though, is the fact that i have never once been a line less than fifteen minutes long (and have never been behind more than two people).  having worked more retail jobs than i would like to remember, i can fully appreciate how much having that type of job sucks.  however, i still did my job quickly and well, which is just about all i ask of anyone else. 

 and, i'm also apparently a raging biatch.