i have to go to bed soon because tomorrow i'm helping angela move into her apartment in sd. it makes me sad; soon, i will have to move (into my dinky, overpriced, shabby little abode) to berkeley, the place i curse and do not want to spend any more time in besides when i really must. i can just imagine, me, standing in ang's apartment, hands on hips, screaming, "this is sooo nice! what are you complaining about?!" while i internally brood over the next year living on top of rich and christine. haha, no seriously. i think it'll be fun. for rich and i, that is. hahah, yes, totally.

it about midnight; i'm tired from being up early in the morning, playing nonstop tennis for two hours straight, and even from walking around the mall. but yet, i'm sitting here, pondering about human emotions. it's amazing how we can feel an incessant amount of love perhaps, hope, or faith without even knowing what the true emotion means. without tangibility, we put our everything into these emotions. call me crazy but i think that's beautiful.

sleep erika, stop thinking about things you can't find an answer to.

i think i'm hanging on to my existence at this very moment with a caramel machiatto. thank god for fuckin coffee.

i wonder what people see in me. i mean, when they first meet me, upon first impression, i wonder what they feel.

i smile. nod my head a little. hold out my hand. "hi, i'm erika" (which i have to learn to say more clearly because more often than not, i come out saying, "hi, i'm america") what comes next?

strawberries are my favorite fruit. i love platinum. i have a soft spot for rabbits. i'm an only child. i can't leave LA. i want to be rich. no, scratch that. i want to be rich and famous. there you go. i love the beach. i wish i didn't shop at abercrombie so much. i like iced teas. i go to berkeley. my biggest fear is being alone. i love technology. david hockney is a genius. jackson pollack is a mastermind, if not an alcoholic psychotic. ted bundy was a genius too. i hate procrastination. i'm a perfectionist. i play tennis. my favorite color is a charcoal gray. i have a shoe fetish. i'm terrified of snakes. i fear failure. i fear success. i want to be good enough. i want to matter. i want to be loved, and love in return. i want to believe in true love. i want to believe in destiny. i want to believe in the impossible, over and over again. i want to fly. i want to own great things, only to be stripped of them, and work to buy them back. i want to smile. i want to dance. i want to laugh.

hi, i'm erika. nice to meet you. (smile)

i hate how there is nothing good on tv after 11 o'clock. as if i'd actually sit for more than 30 seconds watching mtv's undressed, some old western movie, jay leno (i don't know why i dislike late night humor), MASH, etc. etc. and even the history channel's midnight topic is useless! the invention of the submarine - how is that real history?

damn. i am incredibly nerdy.

no matter how many songs i've listened to today, the same phrase from the same 311 mellow tune carries out, "amber is the color of your energy, whoooaa". and i'm not even much of a 311 fan.

if my energy could be a color, it would probably be a reddish-blue. red signifying the passion, blue the serenity. or maybe i've just been staring at the new item on my desk too long: the lava lamp angela bought me with her excessive meal points in san diego. i should have had a lava lamp when i was younger.

i realized that i've been using more and more profanity lately. only in this blog, however. i guess in my delusional mind i think it adds more flavor to my writing. i usually only utter "hell" and "damn" while talking, with the occassional "shit" and less occassional "fuck". but with my blogs it seems i've fallen in love with phrases beginning with "fuckin". hmm, i'm trying to understand myself. it's got to be some freudian reason - like my id has taken control of my superego and i'm in direct conflict with what i want myself to seem and what my unconscious wants me to be. it's got to be fuckin that. haha, yeah baby.

i took my first trip to the beach today for the summer. i almost forgot how it felt to have the sun scorching down on your back and beads of sweat trickling down your face while you lay on a bright beach towel straining to avoid the sand that's about to blow in your eyes.

is introspective a word? i think someone called me that the other day, i'm sorry i don't remember who to accredit it to but it made me think; is the person i am to others the person that i am in this blog? writers often express themselves differently through words than in person. so it makes me think. i just lost my train of thought because my best friend just called me. i was just rambling anyway.

toad the wet sprocket - all i want.

fuck yeah!!!

i never expected to find another like me, you don't know how connected i feel to someone i don't even know, someone's blog i just stumbled upon. so fucking surreal. totally.

sometimes it feels great just screaming your lungs out watching the horrified faces of your friends in a 10 ft by 8 ft karoke room. richard and i will have fun next year. but he can scream louder, he just didn't show me last night - he has potential. haha.

summer vacation has officially kicked in - i am back to watching my dozens and dozens of old dawson's and felicity's with the occassional jack and jill and perhaps, in several moments best combined into one; the un-jaded, optimistic, frightfully hopeless romantic reappears, smiles, unlocks the steel chain to her heart for an instance of believing again, in the carefree and blissful world, where love exists without pain, jealously, anger, want, pride, selfishness, tears, disaster, catastrophe.

Sh3nNiFeR: you are amazing... why not english major?
Sh3nNiFeR: none of this psych business

because, i'm not good enough at english - remember dear friend, i'm good at bullshit, not english. but that was sweet, people believe it me! it means a lot.

Sh3nNiFeR: do you feel like you haven;t grown since you've been at college?
AgentEeyore: yeah i think ive stayed the same
AgentEeyore: except im more cynical
Sh3nNiFeR: that's a BIG change for you... no remnants of that hopeless romantic?

wow, was i really that big of an idealist/hopeless romantic before?

Sh3nNiFeR: i don't just have sex for the sake of sex
i hope jenn doesn't get too mad at me for pasting half our conversation in my blog =)

it makes me smile knowing that i can pick up right where i left off with certain friends. it's such a great feeling, even though your ass is numb from sitting in the computer chair for two hours straight and your back feeling like the bone marrow has just been taken out, being able to just dive into a serious discussion of "life altering nonsense and emotions of all sorts" with someone you haven't really talked to for weeks. i'm happy. it's a good night.

sometimes i wonder what it's like to be more eccentric. fun. carefree. wildly spontaneous. because when it comes down it it, i'm a whole lot of boring and a iota of excitement. i don't like parties. does that make me dorky? i sure hope not. i know it sure as hell doesn't make me nerdy because i don't ditch the party scene to study (anyone can attest to that, hello my econ grade), rather i just...watch tv, browse the internet or talk on the phone instead. maybe i'm agorophobic. sometimes i feel like i'm wasting my entire college life away. here i am, fresh out of my freshman year at one of the most notorious cultural revelation schools in the entire nation and what did i become? an even more boring verison of me senior year in high school. my friend's older brother said berkeley has some good weed. if anyone comes 10 ft to me smoking it, i will seriously kick the living shit out of him/her. i cannot stand the smell of that crap. alcohol leaves me with this buzzing sensation in my parietal lobe. (haha, psych major baby!) i think the last time i seriously consumed alcohol was in october with angela on her birthday. celebrating her big 18 taking smirnoff shots in the kitchen of annie's house with her parents sleeping upstairs. christine was probably the most sober with two shots. i think i took three, some badly mixed screwdrivers and i was on the floor flopping like a blue whale complaining about how cold it was. no wonder people say i'm a bad drunk. i passed out like five minutes later and missed my best friend throwing up her six shots into annie's toilet. i don't like the way alcohol makes me feel. apparently, it turns me into an EVEN MORE boring person. jee-sus, i can never win!

i just want to be a little more exciting. even a miniscule amount will do.

july issue of vanity fair. colin ferrall is so fuckin gorgeous. open the magazine up and there are spreads of him shirtless. he has a tattoo on his left forearm that reads: carpe diem...with your girl, or something like that and it only takes that for me to close my eyes tightly and pray to all the available spiritual forces to let me be that girl! haha, yeah, i have kick ass weird habits. but he's so hot!

i was driving home from visiting angela in sd and suddenly, somewhere between oceanside and san juan capistrano, i was engulfed by darkness and i swear, there were moments my car thumped and flew in the air. it was then that i realized i was driving near 95 miles per hour gunning my soon-to-be senior citizen 4runner and darkness captured me because i had split from the rest of the cars going the legal 70-80 mph. i forgot how great it felt to drive fast without knowing it.

my mom was so overjoyed that pbs had this special on simon and garfunkel and she screamed for me to come downstairs when they were playing "the sound of silence" from the movie, the graduate. i hate to admit, i do like that song - although it usually embarrasses me to the bone admitting i like the same music as my mother does.

it's 5:34 in the morning and i just think i might have lost my sanity.

if i could somehow procure a time machine and go back in time --

i would change my college destiny. i talk about not regretting berkeley and it's been my fixation for the past year, and i don't regret it. but if i had to do it over again, it wouldn't be berkeley. i'd opt for la - trade in telegraph for broxton, fat slice for chain store restaurants like bj's and cpk, sweethearts cafe for diddy reese.

i would change me. watching my friends from high school grow and mold into their respective colleges all around, i would have grown and molded with them. forged a future instead of sink in the past. i'd tell myself of my own ambitions and take a step forward. i wouldn't be so scared to open that door and emerge out of the protective wall i had built for myself only to be penetrated by myself. i'd change and perhaps become ten times the person i am today. i would have grown up.

i would change certain decisions i've made. i would have thought more about others - a lot more about the people i love. i wouldn't have been selfish and considered only the way i'd feel in the end, but i would have made the right decisions, based on the way others felt. i would have acted more on my word, held my word, instead of acting regardless of my word, break my word.

and if i could, i would take back time itself. because nothing hurts more than knowing it was your doing that caused those who you care about for so utterly, so undeniably, and so undoubtedly to cry tears of pain and betrayal for you and only you. and perhaps by doing that, i would make fewer mistakes, stand face to face with truth instead of furiously running away from it, love truly, and not selfishly.

damn berkeley i tell you! i was on hold for ten minutes for a 30 second conversation with a representative from the registrar's office. turns out it's not a mistake my ucla transfer credit hasn't been added to my transcript because berkeley has too many damn people they disregard the undergraduates till the very end. i should be able to see the credit in my overall grades by the end of the summer! what the hell, i filed for it in like early may! too many students overcrowding jerkeley (as my dad would call it).

i spent the past 25 minutes writing this entry about my freshman year at college and it gave me this run-time error crap probably because i was idle for so long. it irritates me, but it doesn't anger me, probably because i know it was a shitty blog to begin with so i'm not saddened that it's gone.

i've been home for 16 days and i'm now trying to reflect back on the past year. it's funny how i come back home and it feels as if i've only left it for a week, not 8 months. everybody's talking about missing it, missing their respected colleges. this will probably come out worse than it really is, but i don't miss it. i sure as hell don't miss the dining hall food, the trek from hill over hill to mulford hall, my RA fucking his girlfriend who cannot shut up for the love of god, the dirty disgusting showers, the bad excuses for coffee, the countless homeless men who gawk at you as if you're some kind of grade A prime rib special, economics 1, public transportation, etc, etc. but i will miss the memories. i've complained incessantly about berkeley but i don't regret it. i hate regret when it comes to stupid things like this.

when i first stepped into my dorm room, i somehow ended up on the side of the room with a missing mattress.

when i left berkeley, i somehow felt my heart slow a little. like it knew what it was leaving behind. like it sighed. out of relief, perhaps. out of remembrance. probably.

i can't get this damn website to look the way i want it to. it's no wonder i got a fucking B+ in my intro to computers class fall semester. and i actually thought that i retained some of the html and javascript i learned like eight months ago. i'm just going to have to suck in it and not scowl every time i look at the page. shit! it's bugging me like crazy, damnit.

two years ago i read ayn rand's the fountainhead. well, not really read, but got 200 pages from the end. it wasn't that it didn't interest me because it was the best damn book i had read in a long time, but as i recall, i think i got swept up in a bunch of other stuff and ignored the book. needless to say, it's pointless to try to go back and i regret it everyday that i never finished it. so now i'm reading her other masterpiece, so to speak, atlas shrugged and i must say, this woman is a genius. objectivism should be adopted into our constitution. atlas shrugged deals with the immortal query "who is john galt?", and 478 pages into the book, it reads, "john galt is prometheus who changed his mind. after centuries of being torn by vultures in payment for having brought to men the fire of the gods, he broke his chains - he withdrew his fire - until the day when men withdraw their vultures." and you have to admire him, ayn rand, the philosophy, the whole shit of it all. though he's fictional, john galt set out to stop the motor, the essence, the very workings of the world, and did. to take everything and make it nothing so that the destitute nature of mankind isn't taken for granted. who is john galt?

i may be the only one that makes sense to. well, scratch that. it doesn't even make sense to me. i've decided to post my thoughts after months of just scribbling words and phrases and my thoughts on random papers, my laptop, or journals. as semisonic sings in "closing time" [if i can remember correctly, it is semisonic] - every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end.