Part of me cannot believe what just happened. This is it. This is the camel that broke the needle’s back. This is the 5 second occurrence in my life that screams at me to write these happenings down.
I am just trying to focus my heart in to my notes, but there are all these distractions: I’m sleepy, the floor below my room is blasting music, there are beautiful musical medleys on YouTube, some females are screaming bloody murder outside, and my hands are cold. I settle down and get situated. I begin again in my studies when one of my suit mates runs down the hall to the bathroom in her date-night outfit and wet hair. So, I’m known as a makeup person on my floor, because I am. I love makeup. Now, she calls out from the bathroom, “Is that Jacque? Is Jacque there?” She comes up to me and asks, “Does my lipstick look too overdrawn? Does it look bad like clownish, like chola?” In that moment, I looked like a mix of the petty Skai jackson meme and the WTF Obama meme.
I respond, “Chola is bad?” She attempts a cover, “I meant tacky.” “Well, they’re overdrawn.” “Sorry. I didn’t mean to offend.”
She didn’t mean to offend. She knows I’m not some politically daft dingbat, I’m a fucking political science major for fucks sake. She not only forgot to use the part of her brain that remembers basic shit, but she forgot to use the part of her brain that doesn’t make her sound like an asshole.
Also, fucking petti pawtti pattiatrician patti’s bitch ass said I can’t do a smokey eye. Just to say I can’t do a smokey eye. She is a big fat lair.
23 March 2017
Four out of five finals FINITO. In 24hrs, I should be finished or finishing up with my last final. In 25-26hrs, I should be sitting in a car with my dad and my dad’s co-worker’s son. My stomach should be filled with ice cream. In about 30hrs, I should be around a bonfire with my Indio friends. That’s the plan anyway.
Time trips me up, can you tell?
The first time I experienced death tripped me up, and it wasn’t even someone I was that close to. He was more like a supporting actor in my life, but I always think of him from time to time. It’s weird. I think of him when I think of Chick- fil-A, because the first time I ate Chick-fil-A, we were on our way to say goodbye to him at Loma Linda. I think of him when I think of how good Thea’s mom’s burritos are, because I downed two of them before his wake. I think of him at random moments. He was such a good kid, dreamt of going to college; he was top five in his class. For a time, I was in this fit thinking about how we would have hung out more than we did when it happened for different reasons. I felt cheated. He was so loved. It’s not fair.