(A Random Post)

Staring At The Lights

The Boxer – Simon & Garfunkel

You may have noticed that for a brief stretch there (six days to be exact), there was a significant lack of posts. I like to think that that’s because it’s winter time, generally a slow period for the WAMBAG, and not because we’re a bunch of lazy chinks.

Having said that, I have an essay due soon meaning that it’s the perfect time to post! Huzzah!

I was suffering from a brutal case of “What-am-I-doing-here?-itis” today. Allow me to explain.

After a brutal Sunday night session of not doing work (but feeling guilty about it) I woke up to a typical (read: sucky) Monday morning. Every morning it’s the same thing. My mom nagging me, telling me that I’m going to miss the bus even though I NEVER HAVE. To all of you bastards living on res: A pox o’ all your houses, how I envy thee.

First period: Major British Writers. Mostly interesting. Mostly slept through it. After that I had lunch with Will and Jess. Normally, this wouldn’t be worth mentioning, but it was a positive part of the day. I definitely needed to go to the Youth Garden to eat today. I took Leanna with me on Friday and I think she didn’t like it. Goddamn half-Japanese girl.

After that, Jess and I continued our tradition of watching an episode of Desperate Housewives every Monday. It’s a month strong now, baby! Only two weeks missed!

Not a bad day so far, but I was exhaused and I slept right through my Medieval Literature class, which was actually interesting because she was walking us through this poem that I didn’t understand a word of. But for the life of me, I could not stay awake. I hate myself.

I hated myself even more for going to mother-F-in’ Short Story class. He said it was going to be a short class and we’d be learning how to write essays in MLA format. I was like, “Nigga, you ain’t got to explain shit. I’ve been robbin’ motherfuckers since the slave ships!” My professor is black by the way. Coming was a complete waste of my time. I realized that since I slept through my last class, I probably could have left about five hours before or I could have just skipped today to work on my assignments (read: sleep until four in the afternoon).

At least I got to hang out with Wendy Shen for a bit. Yes, I have Short Story class with a fellow MDHS survivor. She was good to me for the first couple of weeks, saving me a seat until I met Leanna. Now I feel bad because I don’t talk to her as much as I should because I feel obligated to hang out with this new girl. Leanna didn’t show up today, so I hung out with Wendy for a bit. She lead me to the nearest place that I could get a chocolate milk, which I was dying for for some reason. Then I ran into David and Ping and I ditched her again. Sorry, Wendy! I’m a prick.

I was bitching to people all day (I think Will and Jess were spared) about my What-am-I-doing-here?-itis. I was thinking about the Ice Queen. Not for the usual reasons, but for the fact that she seems to be living the stereo-typical university party life. Party all the time, join a sorority, grind out your assignments and go home happy at the end of the day. I’m neither partying or doing particularly well in school right now, so I’m starting to have those old doubts: Who am I? Why am I here? Am I gay? I’m probably gay. At one point, as David, Ping and I were walking to the station, I actually yelled out in the middle of the street:


I felt better immediately. I realized I was happy to have spent so much time with friendly faces today, since I’d been doing a bad job of managing that lately. For some reason I’d only been able to see, like, one friend a day over the last couple of weeks. This is dragging. Let me get to the flowery, poetry bit.

It was another beautiful sunset today. I was dozing off on the bus (it was one of those days), so maybe I was dreaming, but the sky looked like one of those cheesy gradient effects you would add to a high school project just to pretty things up. I was fading in and out and at one point I blinked too hard and it was gone. But while it was there, man…it’s the sort of thing that if you stare at it for too long, you start thinking, “I will never be afraid of anything ever again.”

And to cap it all off, I talked to the Ice Qu…Tanya on MSN tonight. I was pissed off at her because I bought her the first season of The O.C. on DVD, which set me back about eighty bones (only forty after I collect my money from some suckas that gotsta pay), which was for her birthday on Friday. I even attached an amusing note that read: “I hope you get an iPod so you can indulge your bad taste in music. For now, just indulge your bad taste in television.” That’s money. Vintage Big Al, right there.

The whole weekend, not a single thank you. Not a phone call, not a text message, not even an MSN message! That’s cold-blooded!

However…*sigh*…she did message me today to thank me for the present and we talked for a while online. It was cool. I’m not saying that I can hang around her or anything like that, but we had a nice conversation today. I’ll take that for now. This post was originally supposed to be all about her, but it wasn’t a bad day, so I’m not going to spoil things.


You know…this isn’t fair. I’m an Adephi. I’m…one of the host…of angels. I never even thought about sinning. I did everything I was told and…I never complained…and now it ends here in this black pit in the ground with my–my brains blown out…! What d’you call that, eh? What d’you…call…thaaaat…

Good start.



Destined to fight the world's evil, The WAMBAG endures massive battles involving impossible stunts, races on horse-pulled carriages, and the desecration of enchanting medieval castles (all done with dizzying computer graphics). Not only does the eye candy keep on coming, the tongue-in-cheek writing and deep Transylvanian accents perfect the film with a dose of dark humor.



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