Mad at the world...
I almost died today. And when I say that, I don't mean, "I got a D on my midterm! I'm gonna die!" No...I mean I was almost killed. Almost killed by a girl who deserves to be shot in the head. I know I've complained about the horrendous drivers here in Berkeley, but now I have a true story to back up all the hype. On my way to campus today, I approached an intersection. There were a few cars at the stop sign, so I waited. As soon as one of the cars went by, I started across the street in the crosswalk. After I had already begun crossing, a gray Toyota Camry came up to the stop sign. Of course, I expected the car to stop until after I had passed in front of it and gotten to the other side. But no. I was right about at the line in the middle of the street that divides the two lanes when...the car starts moving. She starts driving as if I'm not even there. At this point, I don't even know what she's doing. I don't know if she's such a ridiculous bitch that she's trying to beat me before I cross in front of her, or if she just doesn't see me even though I'm practically right in front of her car. As I realized the car was starting to come forward at an alarming speed, I froze. I didn't know what to do. That feeling welled up in my gut, the feeling that I was in grave, imminent danger, and I couldn't react. I almost expected to feel the car plow into me, and I just let fate take over. When she was about five inches from me, she slammed on the brakes. The car was so close to me that I could touch it without even moving. I stood there for a moment in complete shock, not even able to speak. Usually, I would have screamed at her, hit her car, flipped her off, anything. But all I could do was raise my arms up at her, this bitchy little Asian girl, and give her a look like, "What the fuck is wrong with you? You almost killed me!" All she did was look at me...no expression on her ugly little troll face. No gesture of an apology, no expression of remorse...absolutely nothing. She waited till I had passed and sped off, as if she was angry. Angry and bitter as if she had been the victim. She tried to screech her tires as she took off, as if she was driving a little rice rocket with a spoiler, which was maybe even more ridiculous than her almost hitting me because she was driving a big family car. I didn't know what to be more angry at...the fact that she almost killed me or her complete lack of any kind of remorse. Now, I act like a complete bitch in many situations, and I even endorse that at times. But...if you almost kill someone, and it's clearly your fault, then why in the world would you act like a bitch about it? Would it kill you to acknowledge that you were in the wrong and maybe even, *gasp*, apologize? People like this horrible scourge of mankind shouldn't even be allowed to drive. She obviously has no grasp of the gravity of concepts like life and death. She drives her car as if it's a toy, not able to cause any real harm. If you wonder why I'm so cynical, it's experiences like this. I usually don't wish bad things on others, but I hope something very very bad happens to that girl...she's exactly the kind of person who deserves it. People who are so awful and callous that they don't even care if they end up killing innocent people don't deserve to live.

Death penalty for Winona...
Can Winona Ryder just die already? Then we won't have to hear about her stupid trial anymore. WHO CARES? How many people in this fucking country shoplift? But, of course, she gets special treatment and recognition because she's a celebrity. Oh my God, the star of "Girl, Interrupted" stole clothes! It was already old the first time I heard about it. But yet they keep insisting on dragging out the whole sad ordeal. Okay, we already know she's an idiot. Why would a famous actress with millions of dollars resort to shoplifting? Maybe...because she's an idiot? And then you have all these goddamn psychologists trying to figure out the motivations behind her behavior by dividing shoplifters into different categories and saying things like, "What Ms. Ryder has is a disease. Her behavior is not her fault. She suffers from an extreme form of kleptopieceofshitmania, and thus cannot be held responsible for her actions. Give me a break. Again, who the fuck cares? She's guilty so just throw her in the slammer already. And then you have these stupid people reporting on the trial, saying things like, "The jurors are going to have a hard time convicting her whether they're aware of it or not because of who she is." Whatever. If I was on the jury, I'd push for the death penalty. She ought to be shot just for subjecting us to all this bullshit.

Why the fuck do teachers always have to call on you when you don't know the answer? If I had known the fucking answer, then I would have raised my hand! As if I don't volunteer in that class all the time anyway. I guess that's not enough. Then you have dipshit sitting in the corner who never ever raises his hand, and the teacher never calls on him. Whatever.

Okay, well maybe I'll divulge a little. I mean, it was the most excitement I've had in like five years. So a big group of us, including Connie and Steve, headed out of Berkeley by way of the downtown Berkeley BART station...The chaos started as soon as we entered the station. There were a million people packed in there. So we waited, and finally the train comes and everyone starts pushing. We made it in without dying, but then we had to transfer to another train. Steve and I started running to it, and as I'm pushed into the train, the poofy blond wig I'm wearing gets caught between two people in back of me, and is completely torn off my head. "My hair!" I scream, just in time to turn around and see Steve holding the wig. So we pack into the train like sardines...by this time, Steve and I are separated from the rest of our group. And as luck would have it, we end up stuck next to some nasty, ditzy, hoochy girls. I guess we happened to be standing in between this ugly nasty-looking bitch and the rest of her group, so she turns to us, and in the ditziest, most valley girl voice I have ever heard, says, "Can I stand over there? I feel isolated!" Her friend on the other side of us passes her some eyelash glue, and Nasty Ho puts her hand right in between my face and Steve's. By this time, I wanted to kick her ugly ass. Walking through the Castro wasn't as bad as it could have been. I did get pissed off a few times. Some little drunk Asian guy tried to grab me but didn't succeed. And then some ugly piece of shit wouldn't move out of my way, so I elbowed him. I walked past and he pushed me back and tried giving me a dirty look. It was sad. Then, some big dude completely inhibited my mobility so I shoved him. He said, "Easy, girl!" to which I responded with a heartfelt "Fuck off." The rest of the night was pretty uneventful...we ended up walking through the empty streets of San Francisco at 2 in the morning. A truck sped by, and the guy in the passenger seat yelled, "Shakira, I love you, you little slut!" We coincidentally met up with my buds, Luce and Mike, and we all, including me and my Shakira wig, ended up at Denny's. We finally got back to Berkeley at 5 in the morning. I think that was the first time I've ever been happy to be back in Berkeley. I have mixed feelings about the experience. I'm glad I went, but if I hadn't been there, I think it would have been the perfect location to drop an A bomb.

Halloween at the Castro...don't even get me started.

I don't understand why people are so stupid that they don't understand the concept of moving out of the way. Pushing my shopping cart through Safeway tonight made me realize how retarded about 90% of all people really are. It's like, when you see someone pushing their cart and trying to get around you, move out of the way. Simple, right? Then, why did I have to continuously yell "Excuse me!" like five times? It's not like they honestly didn't see me coming, and thus didn't move out of the way. No, these people were looking at me, even staring at me dead on. Yet, they stayed planted, almost as if trying to get me to find the most creative way possible to get around them without causing a major collision. MOVE OUT OF THE FUCKING WAY! And then, as I'm leaving the checkout line to wheel my cart outside, some old bag is blocking the entire way. There's no way to get this bitch's attention, so I try to wheel around her. Then she starts wheeling! So I'm stuck behind this ugly old bag, mad as hell. I swear, I was thisclose to ramming her in the ass with my cart. It all seems so counter-intuitive...wouldn't people be more careful of their surroundings in a crowded shopping area where there are narrow aisles and everyone has carts? I guess not. If only murder was legal...