Incorrectly Identified Flying Objects

Today, I took the wrong bus. Someone told me it was the right bus. But it didn't go where I wanted it to. I kept telling it to, but it didn't.
I was contemplating how I would get home if I got dropped off in the middle of Richmond, because I was also sans cell phone... And then this lovely lady comes up and asks me for directions. Out of all the people on the bus who were completely competent with public transport, she asks me.
This seems to be a trend. People always ask me for directions when I'm in places I'm not acquainted with.

They say that when you realize you are lost, you are supposed to stay where you are so you don't get more lost.
Unfortunately, that doesn't work on buses.

There's a fellow in my class who introduced himself to me as "Prophet."
I looked at him for a minute, and decided there was only one thing to say. So I asked if he had any divine wisdom to pass on to me.
He faltered, then said no, it was spelled P-R-O-F-I-T. Profit.
Then he shook my hand and said, "But you can call me 'Rapper P.'"
Profit, it turns out, is majoring in communications. He wants to be a business man. He calls everyone he meets his 'clientele.' I am now part of his clientele.

He turned to another friend of mine, Eitan, and said, "Hey you like clubbing? We should hit up some bars together. I wanna go meet some people. Gotta expand my clientele.."
Eitan smiled. "I... think... you and I go to different kinds of bars"
"Man, I like all kinds of places. Gotta meet a diversity of people."
"I... go to gay bars."
"Oh. Well that is different. But that's cool man. It's good to have all kinds of people in my clientele."

Profit (aka Rapper P) is really called Jean-Paul.
He wants to go to Stanford.

Eitan likes to use his "coming out" to confuse people.
We were discussing racial profiling, and the teacher called on him, and said, "So Eitan, would you be willing to date a black woman?"
Eitan is, by the way, a skinny little white kid.
And of course he said no.
The class (probably 70% African American) started getting riled up.
But he continued on to say, "I don't date women. Period."
That probably saved his ass. He would've gotten whooped.

Um. So. Yeah. Today's brain goo turned out really weird.

More later.

RUPERT GRINT HAS SWINE FLU!

My dogs ate a tube of glitter. Only the most refined dogs have sparkly poop.

Sometimes I tease my dogs because I have opposable thumbs and they don't.

I haven't posted in hella days. Mostly because I haven't been spending nearly as much time on the computer procrastinating.

After some careful analysis of the data, I have come to some conclusions. Time spent on the computer ostensibly equals Time spent doing homework. At least, that's what my parents think. But experimentally, Time spent on computer is not in any way proportional to Amount of homework completed. However, I am conducting follow-up experiments to verify if Time spent on computer is directly proportional to Stress levels or perhaps inversely proportional to Happiness. I've hypothesized that this may be the case, but we'll see. Other test subjects would invariably increase the accuracy of my results, so if any of you have your own data to add, we could set up a spreadsheet on Google Docs.

Sorry for that outbreak. It's possible that I've been watching too much of Big Bang Theory...

So it's as hot as a dog's butt in here. As Bernadette's dad would say. Although I wouldn't know...

But I like the heat, as long as we aren't in school. It feels like SUMMER!

My body does a strange thing to counteract stress. As soon as stress reaches a dangerous level, that part of my brain just shuts down and I become really relaxed and calm and everything. It's probably good for emergency situations, but for school and stuff, it's pretty fucked up. I don't get stressed enough to get anything done.

So. Um. I should probably go read Grapes of Wrath and Antigone and do a gazillion other things. Yeah...

:)

On second thought, maybe it's just an enlarged taste bud.

I had a bump on my tongue that was bothering me so I took some scissors and cut it off.
Now it's bleeding.

I looked up diseases that cause bumps on the tongue. They asked me this: "Do you have any history of sexually transmitted diseases? How about tooth brushing?"

Odd questions to put next to each other... And do I have a history of tooth brushing? I should hope so!

Well, maybe I have herpes, but that's less than likely. Maybe I have Lupus. I don't know what that is, but it sounds like some sort of werewolf disease...

I'm worried I might be becoming a hypochondriac.

I know everyone thinks I'm kidding, but I'm not! I really, really want to join the circus. I think I'm going to take a year off, and I think being in the circus would be the best thing ever. And if you're going to do it, that would be the best time.

Ok, honestly, I'm feeling really spontaneous, and the rational side of my brain is trying really, really hard to keep the other part in check. But if that rational side were just a little bit weaker, I would be on my way to the circus right this second.

I know there are bad sides to the circus, but I feel like it would be a stellar learning experience probably. And all the people who work at the circus have got to be INTERESTING if nothing else. And oh my god you can't understand how excited I am. I would so much rather join the circus than go to college.

The only bad part is the animal abuse. I hate that. But I can't do anything about that.

Ok, I'll shut up... But if you see any circuses around that are hiring, give me a shout, will ya?

Question. Can you be depressed without actually being depressed?

* Significant decrease or increase in appetite
* Insomnia or hypersomnia (excessive sleeping) nearly every day
* Feeling restless or sluggish to the point that others notice
* Fatigue or loss of energy
* Diminished ability to think or concentrate, or indecisiveness
* Recurrent thoughts of death (not just fear of dying), recurrent suicidal thoughts without a specific plan, or a suicide attempt or a specific plan for committing suicide
* Feelings of worthlessness or excessive or inappropriate guilt

I got all of those except the last two. For the most part. No, I have never considered suicide in my life. Don't freak out... But can you be depressed while you're happy?

Mostly I'm trying to figure out the reason why I'm so goddamn sleepy ALL the time. I considered mono, narcolepsy, anemia, swine flu, and African sleeping sickness. (Even though i haven't been bitten by any African parasites lately... but still. Can't rule it out.)

So we'll see.

Even caffeine is losing it's effectiveness.

sigh.

Pulchritudinous means beautiful.

That seems ironic, considering that's one of the ugliest words I've heard or seen.

Heehee.
Urban Dictionary describes it so much more accurately: Social Notworking.

Holy shit, my experiment is working.

I've always been aware that I spend too much time on facebook. But I never really comprehended how unproductive it made me. It's the singular best procrastination tool I've ever encountered.

So I deleted it. Deactivated it...

And I've been so much more fucking productive. That shit was ruining my life.

But I wonder how long I can keep it up. A week? A month? Until the end of school? I'll try my best.

In other news, it's fucking hot as hell. For the past couple of days, my house has been so fucking hot that I've just not been wearing any pants. I don't own any shorts. That's embarrassing... So I just wear boxers/underwear. Which I guess maybe should be more embarrassing. But, uh, whatever.

This has nothing to do with anything, but I think that the phrase "Don't harsh my mellow" should definitely be "Don't marsh my mallow."

Well, it has to do with marshmallows. Which are something. Somethings.

Aw man, marshmallows are the best. I wanted to tour the marshmallow factory in NV for the longest time. And then I found out that it exploded. No joke. Esploded. So I was very sad. They rebuilt it, but they don't do tours anymore.

It's called "Favorite Brand Marshmallows" and it's the only marshmallow factory anywhere near the West Coast. You know what that means? They make all of the marshmallows for every brand.

So Jet-Puffed and Western Family (and who knows--maybe even Peeps) are the exact same thing.

Just sayin.

And Peeps. Don't even get me started on Peeps.

And, again unrelatedly, here is an adorable essay from a little boy about his grandparents' retirement home. It made me smile.

We always spent Christmas with Grandma and Grandpa. They used to live here in a big brick house, but Grandpa go retarded and they moved to Florida. They lived in a place with a lot of retarded people. They live in tin huts. They ride big tricycles. They go to a big building they call a wreck hall. If it was wrecked, it is fixed now.
Tey play games there and do exercises but they don't do them too good. There is a swimming pool there, and they go there just to stand in the water with their hats on. I guess they don't know how to swim.
My grandma used to make cookies and stuff, but I guess she forgot how. Nobody cooks there. They all go to fast food restaurants called Early Bird. But I didn't eat any birds. I had eggs.
As you ride into the park, there is a dollhouse with a man sitting in it. He watches all day so they can't get out without him seeing them. They wear name badges with their names on them. I guess they don't know who they are.
My Grandma said Grandpa worked hard all his life and earned retardment. I wish they would move back home, but I guess the man in the dollhouse won't let them out.

My family is the best. Like seriously, I love hanging out with them so much. At least, my family on my mum's side.

I went on a road trip with my mum, my aunt, and my cousin (who's 18). And it totally feels like we're all just really good friends instead of family.

Touring colleges was amazing. I hit up five colleges within 24 hours... And of course, I fell in love with the most expensive one--Reed. Which I could never-ever-in-a-million-years get into or pay for. But I still love it.

And who wouldn't? The buildings look like they're from Harry Potter! Everyone is totally liberal and chill with every kind of people. It's got an amazing campus. And it's not that far from the city. Ideally, I wish it were a little more urban, but it's still pretty fucking rad.

And we had kind of a birthday thing, because it's my birthday next weekend. But my cuz and aunt wanted to celebrate this weekend so we could have fun.

And we did.

Have fun, that is.

We got two ice cream cakes--yes, two for the four of us. And we trashed out hotel room, which is fun. Makes you feel like a rock star.

Someone suggested getting me a tattoo for my birthday. My mum seemed pretty chill with the idea (she wants a tat, too), but I've been debating for years what I want. I really like The Little Prince concept. But we'll see if the idea sticks. Cause once it sticks, it's stuck. You know?

And so, after milling around the tattoo parlor for a little bit, we decided to go the less permanent route, and I got my nose pierced. Whoot.

It's pretty tiny. You can't really see it, but I like it.

Now I'm in the Portland airport again, waiting for my flight. It feels like spring break. Seriously. I never want to go back to school.

And I've decided that I love Oregon. I love the people. I love the weather. I love the buildings. I love the schools. I love that they put cream in their italian sodas. I love the fact that they are stimulating the economy by making it illegal to pump your own gas and therefore providing more jobs. I love the lack of sales tax. I even love the fucking airport, despite having to spend far too much time in it.

I think I might just shoot someone. Really.

This is just a big fat rant. Don't read it. It's not worth your time. But it makes me feel better.

So I came home kinda upset, but my dog greeted me friendly-ly. (Shut up, it's a word.) And I was happy about that. And then I realized that she just wanted the tennis ball out of my hand. Once she had it, she ran away, and left me to wallow. (hehe not really. but wallow is a cool word.)

I was downloading an audiobook onto my ipod right before I had to leave for the airport. I wondered why it was taking so long.
I am a technological fuck-up--a technical fuck-up, if you will--and so I accidentally replaced all my fucking music with this one stupid audiobook because I fail at lice. hah. life. but I'll leave the typo there.

And then my dad got mad at me for taking so long and wouldn't speak to me on the entire drive to the airport.

And then I got to the airport and I remembered that you couldn't bring more than 3.4 ounces of liquid. And I had my shampoo. My nice shampoo. So I thought I was going to be very clever and pour all of it out down the toilet, except for 3.4 ounces. Then they at least wouldn't take ALL of it.

So I felt like an idiot pouring shampoo down the toilet.
I eyeballed 3.4oz. It seemed about right. Even on the light side. Probably not even 3.2oz...

And then they took it anyways. Those bastards. Aaand my toothpaste.

Then I found out my flight was delayed. 40 minutes. Fuuck.

So I went to buy some chocolate to make myself feel better, and by doing so, I somehow lost my boarding pass. I'm such a spazz.

And I went up to the lady at the desk and started crying to make her feel bad for me, and she asked for my ID... But I lost that, too! All I had was this one from 6th grade where I look like a chubby, homicidal grandma. And she was suspicious that it wasn't me. (Okay--one good thing came from today. I got confirmation from a stewardess that I no longer look quite as much like a chubby, homicidal grandma as I did in 6th grade. Only a little bit like that now.)

And I finally got on the plane. And as soon as the seatbelt light went out, the guy sitting next to me left to go to the bathroom or something. But he didn't come back for the entire flight, until we were landing. Jeez. How badly do I smell?

And finally got to Portland. And realized that I forgot the address to my hotel, so I couldn't take a cab there. Because I'm a spazz. (Notice a theme?)

So now I've been stuck in the Portland airport waiting for someone to come pick me up, or at least give me an address or SOMETHING.

Plus I'm on my period.

Bad day.

Better one tomorrow.

Cheerful posts coming. I promise.

I need to study for French. Badly.

I would rather be doing so many things. Including this.

Although I have nothing interesting to say. At all.

That seems to be a theme in my life recently. And it sucks. Life is boring.

Life is average and normal. But that makes it boring.

Could someone please bring a little excitement into it? This is a plea for help. Who wants to go steal a truck and drive to Mexico? Any takers?

Alright then... who wants to go run around the streets late at night? Hey, I'm serious about this one. Please?

Aw come on, you guys are no fun.

I read On The Road for fun cause my personal essay thingy was about hitchhiking. The dude keeps falling in love with these girls that he sees walking down the street or at a train station or something--people he'll never see again in his life.

And yeah, I kinda found myself doing that lately, too. It's a weird experience, I gotta say. You exchange maybe a few words, maybe none at all, just glances. But somehow... I dunno.
Then they walk out of the building, and you know you'll never see them again. And you miss them already.

"A pain stabbed my heart, as it did every time I saw a girl I loved who was going the opposite direction in this too big world." - On the Road, Jack Kerouac

Maybe I'm just bored, so my body/brain/heart decided to give me something to think about.

I really like the beat culture. I wish I was born with the Beat Generation. I really do.

On an unrelated subject, I have this hair dye. I want to use it. But that would take a big time investment, and I really should be studying. I really should be. Study, Sophie, Study!

Too bad Day of Silence wasn't on Wednesday, so we'd have an excuse to not recite our poem. Although, knowing Madame, she'd make us anyways.

I realize that all my posts have become increasingly similar to Mr. Ross' blog prompt of "documenting your thoughts." It's an interesting idear, but maybe I should write about something real sometime.

Eh. Fuck it. Real? Reality is for suckers.

I feel like posting, but I have nothing to say. This always ends badly.

Soo... Basically...

I'm very jealous of Jeff right now, because he's in Africa, and I totally wish I were there!

Ashland was awesome, and i kinda wish it happened at the end of break, so the rest of it wouldn't be so anticlimactic...

Since then, I have done practically nothing except go over to Bernadette's and fall asleep on her couch, like I do all the time. She has THE bestest couch in the entire world. If you haven't ever fallen asleep on it... well, you haven't truly lived.

On Saturday night I never changed, so I slept in my jeans. Then I woke up on Sunday, and changed *into* my pajamas. Aaand I've been wearing pajamas ever since. I wore them the whole way home, and then changed into different pajamas before going to Bernie Mac's...

So that's roughly 32 hours. Life is good.

Trying (and failing) to find the cemetery in Ashland we came across "Bento's Dog-Café." So I'm wondering... Do they serve dogs or do they serve dog? Subtle but important difference...

This girl I've never seen before in my life walks up to me, holds up a pink slip with a name on it, and says, "Sophie, do you know who this is?"
Nope, sorry, I don't recognize the name, and I don't recognize you. As a matter of fact, how do you know my name?

So I have this awful habit of adding "in bed" to the end of people's facebook status' whenever I read them.

Yesterday in the middle of History, I walked out of the classroom to go the bathroom. On the way, I decided I was hungry, so I just kept on walking--all the way to that coffee shop on Solano. I got back 30 minutes later with drink and croissant in hand, and Mr. Price just said, "Mm... can I have a bite?"

At the choir concert tonight, I was dead-tired, and I have to admit, during the Men's Choir piece, I got bored. So I started playing "Who Would You Do?" (Just in my head... Seeing as I was sitting next to Bernadette's parents, that might have been a little awkward.)
I went down the row like this:
--Yeah
--I guess
--No way
--Probably
--AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH NOW I HAVE TO WASH MY MIND OUT WITH SOAP MOTHERFUCKER!!! AAAHHH I HATE THIS GAME EW EW EW EW EW EW EW

Yeah, I kinda forgot when I first started playing that I would eventually come across that unpleasant guy in our French class.

I was about to use his real name for this post, but then I remembered that would be awful if he ever googled himself.

And he probably googles himself every other day.

I also remembered that I don't know how to spell his name.

Needless to say, I stopped playing the game before I got to Mr. "PSYCHED FOR THAI FOOD." Thank God.

I love how no one ever replies to my posts when they are even slightly vulgar. Or something.

That's okay, I like making you uncomfortable.

Lutz, my mum's boyfriend, is fluent in English, but it is still his third language, after German and Spanish. The other day he was trying to describe of of his coworkers, and he said "Yeah, he got so mad, he just went out in his car and started doing bagels!"

It took me a full 20 seconds to realize he meant "donuts." Hehe.
In his defense, they are both round pastries with a hole in the middle...


In the Amazon, there is a fish called the penis-fish (this is the scientific name, of course). It is very small and narrow, and it likes to swim upstream in warm water. As you can imagine, if one were to pee while in the vicinity of the penis-fish, said fish would swim upstream through your urine. And also attach itself inside your urethra with its sharp barbs. At which point one would have to undergo surgery in order to prevent it from laying its eggs inside you.

Am I making you uncomfortable? Good.

Well I have to say, being that the penis-fish fits so perfectly with its namesake, this just sounds like Evolution's cruel joke. Or the Creator, if you will, trying to teach a lesson to those who pee while swimming.

Ever heard of popular singer/songwriter Urethra Franklin?


Are rabbis inherently hairier than other men?

Hey--my uncle's a rabbi, I can say that.

So is his wife, incidentally. She's not hairy. So, no. I disproved my own hypothesis.

Don't you just love the scientific process?

You know what's nice about feeling shitty? When you start feeling less shitty, you appreciate normal so much more. But enough about that.

(Sorry this post is so ADD. I didn't feel like making any transitions in between my brain-goo)


I skipped school on Friday, because I was on my way to a nudist colony. I like the sound of that...
Well, technically it was a nudist colony back in the 1930's, so that sort of qualifies...
I can guarantee you, however, that I was fully dressed during my visit. I didn't even really want shower there, because all the water smelled like sulfur for some reason. In the end, I was willing to bathe in it, but couldn't manage brushing my teeth in it. All I could find instead was San Pelligrino. Brushing your teeth with Sparkling Natural Mineral Water. If that doesn't make you feel like a douchebag, then you definitely already are one.


Just when the weather starts to be beautiful, we head off to Seattle. Of course.

On the way to the Sea-Taco (Seattle-Tacoma) airport, I saw a water park. Now really, who thought of that... Let's put a water park in the one place it rains for 89% of the year.


My entire mum's side of the family has caught the facebook bug. My little 8-yr-old cousin keeps saying "Mommy, why can't I have a facebook?" Some family members I haven't seen in *years* know random facts from my page.

My uncle: So, Sophie, you like cats, right?
Me: Uh, yeah, I guess...
Uncle: Do you have a lot of cats?
Me: ....No
Uncle: Oh, well, when I was looking through your facebook pictures, I saw you have a lot of cats.

Heh, cool cats, but.. not mine.

My aunt (his wife) joins the conversation: "Yeah, I drunk facebook all the time. In the morning I always have to go back and 'delete,' 'delete.' Sorry about that comment I left last night, same story."
In reference to my status: "Sophie Hearn is b-ballin' it with the cousins" to which she responded "Yer teh kewlest cousin."

The weirdest, though, is the Compare People application with your family on facebook. "Who would you rather marry: your grandpa or your cousin?"


At some point, my little cousin comes running inside: "Daddy, I was down on the beach, and I caught crabs!"

Just thank God she's saying that when she's seven, and not 17.