Just a brokedick version of me.

AW YEAH. IT'S THAT TIME OF THE MONTH.

No, not THAT time, creeps. It's that time where I'm full of funny shit to say so I string together 1,000 words that make very little sense unless you know me well enough to decipher my dry, sordid sense of humor.

So, on the bright side, I'm not crazy at all anymore. I know in December I was all like "WAAAAHHHH. NOBODY LIKES MEEEE." But I'm totally over that. I've got this whole new lease on life where I don't hold grudges at all (except for Corey Alcala from the fifth grade because she called me "Butterball" for, like, six months and totally ruined my life.) and I've made a bunch of new friends who are all uninhibited and shit so we party and smoke and yell things at people we don't know. Why? Because we fucking live our lives by H2O lyrics, THAT'S FUCKING WHY.

In reality, I stop drinking after one, MAYBE TWO, beers and don't smoke half as much as they do. But I have fun anyway because I'm all about having a good time. That's right, fuckers, the prudish old Kat who would stay at home on the weekends reading books and drawing on her mirrors with watercolor crayons is gone. She's been replaced by the Abominable Dr. K who likes to go to bars and get stupid tattoos and wear eyeliner and pushup bras. I'M AWESOME. EVERYONE LOVES ME. If I can't be the life of the party, I'll be the death of everyone. Jawbreaker lyrics. Get into it, y'all.

School is back in session which means every other week I stay up all night writing news stories and dealing with people who refuse to write their news stories. I spend 14 hours at school and then come home and spend three or four more hours doing school stuff. Then I do the math and realize I could have gotten it all done in, like, five hours, I just have the attention span of a flea and insist on leaving things off until the last minute, because I really write my best stuff when I'm under pressure. However, I have yet to imbibe a cup of coffee all semester. Fuck yes, I win.

I'm really stoked on taking classes OTHER than newspaper production.

I'm taking Mexican and Chicano Art History with the most horrible old woman I have ever met in my life. She's EIGHT THOUSAND years old and has a voice that's about four octaves higher than most women. She treats us all like third graders. We're four weeks into the semester and we have yet to actually discuss actual art history. She goes on all these batshit crazy tangents about how the Chinese invented pasta and we shouldn't think it's Italian because we like spaghetti so much. Every day I walk into that class and every day I want to stand up and say, "EXCUSE ME, BUT WHEN THE FUCK ARE YOU GOING TO REMEMBER TO TAKE YOUR MEDS SO I CAN FUCKING LEARN SOMETHING, YOU OLD HAG." I'm a monster.

I'm also taking a Music Appreciation class to fulfill some GenEd stuff, but it's a breeze because I have all that music training anyway so I'm totally skilled at naming composers and musical styles and shit. NBD. The only memorable thing I have to share from my notes is this:

"Castration - a common practice in medieval times. Castration - a common practice AT Medieval Times?"

I should really wrap this up. I had a ton of other things to say but I feel like it's all just going to make me sound bitter and alone. Whatever.

It's 2:30 in the morning, I have a terrible fever and what I'm starting to suspect is Whooping Cough (Yeah, I know. I thought it had been eradicated too.) I'm hot then I'm cold then I'm hot again and I was balls out falling asleep earlier but now I feel like I just had meth or something. That's gross. I hate drugs. Legit though, I'm wide awake. I have class in the morning but I feel like that's not going to happen.

I leave you with a little something I found saved on my computer. It's called "Fuck you, Zooey Deschanel" and was supposed to be this amazing rant on why I hate female vocalists like Regina Spektor and Ingrid Michelson and all those girls with thick rimmed glassed and big blue eyes and frizzy hair and dudes eat it up because they're fucking quirky and adorable. Bitches.

I hate female vocalists.

I hate their stupid fucking sideswept bangs and their big doe eyes. WHY DO THEY ALWAYS HAVE HUGE EYES? It's like they're saying "Boys don't like me. I'm not even pretty. Let me sing a few bars of this Beatles song. Oh, boys like me? Naaawwww!"

I hate their stupid vague lyrics that you can relate to any guy you have ever come into contact with in your life. It doesn't matter if you were attracted to them or not, YOU CAN RELATE THESE SONGS TO THEM. And god forbid you're trying to recover from a broken heart, you're fucked. You get lyrics like "I'm just a little bit caught in the middle. Life is a maze. Love is a riddle."

Life is that fucking hedge maze from The Shining where you're destined to get trapped forever and die alone and scared.

How about that riddle?

The man of my fucking dreams is traveling towards me at a speed of 80 mph, I am traveling towards him at a speed of 25 mph (because I like to play things safe), how long before some hot piece jumps in the middle of the road and scares me off so I make a big ass U-turn and go back home and save myself embarrassment of rejection?

About 20 minutes.

You guys, I'm going to be alone forever. But it's cool. At least I'll have my books.