At registration I was talking about how everyone looked super cute and I bought absolutely nothing this summer except for graphic tees.

And this girl who hates me for whatever reason (and let’s be real, when someone hates you and makes it obvious, you tend to dislike them) said, “Except for that $200 dress you bought?”

I was confused, because that dress was a gift I got a couple years ago, and I don’t remember ever bringing it up. Then I realized I blogged about wearing it once here.

This girl stalks my blog.

So, illusions aside, HELLO ELLIE. WELCOME TO MY BLOG. I LIKE A LOT OF THINGS. MOST THINGS ACTUALLY. EXCEPT YOU.

Because you’re horrible and vindictive and have this freakish jealous streak and all you care about is yourself.

I hope you find this post.

An in-depth look at Malina’s Relay for Life experience.

I took a long ass nap, went on tumblr, napped again, woke up for dinner, watched the Newsroom, and now I’m too excited to go back to sleep. (At the end of this post, I will talk about all my Newsroom feels.) 

But basically, Relay for Life is this huge 24 hour American Cancer Society event that’s a big fundraiser for ACS. And it’s really a lot of fun because you get to camp out with friends from school and whatnot. I got there a bit later than I would’ve liked, but I set up a small two-person tent and signed in our team and did all the technicalities. Remember the obnoxious teammate I was talking about earlier? She and her boyfran brought a huge-ass 8 person tent, which I’ll get to later. She also snapped at me when I asked her boyfriend for his phone number (I needed to be able to contact all the team members) because she thought I was going to sign him up as a chaperone. She’s 17. He’s 21. They then came up to me while I was signing in our team like I’m a fucking child. Are you team captain? No. Sit your ass down.

The daylight hours were pretty low-key. We sold cake pops and played cards and around 4 Tina came and visited me until like 11. I had like no lunch because I was too lazy to buy myself a burrito so all I had was tea. I fuckin’ love boba. We played Monopoly and 2 people gave Dom all their property when they gave up so he destroyed Stephanie and me. I walked around the track some and asked people how their summers were going and whatnot. At one point I was in my tent with Tina and Van talking about Andrew Garfield being a hot piece of ass and The Turd says, “I think people shouldn’t talk about themselves all the time,” to no one in particular because no one gives a shit about what she has to say. To which I countered, “I think you’re full of shit.” Do not snark me because I am the Queen of Snark.

Around 10 we were like, “Well fuck we’re hungry.” So Tina, Sam, and I walked downtown and ate at one of my favorite pizzerias. Except I totally forgot that Parmegiana is the one with eggplant, and I ordered an Estate, so when I asked the waitress, “Doesn’t this have Eggplant?” she gave me stank face. Apparently, he’s the sister of these twins I vaguely know. So I tipped her like 23% even though the service wasn’t that great. I like the lunch servers there better. Michael and that Mexican lady whose name I’m forgetting are my favorites. But enough about the pizza. My friends Connie and Nick came to join us and even though Connie and Sam aren’t really BFFs, it was a nice dinner, I’d say. We went back to Relay and they had free pizza.

Connie and Nick and Tina hung out for a bit and then left because it was late, and camping is in tents (ohoho I am the pun mastaaa). So my teammates and I — Cattygurl and her boyfran not withstanding — tried to stay outside as long as possible because apparently Cattygurl and boyfran would not let us in their GIGANTIC ASS TENT. But then it was too cold so the 8 of us crammed into my 2 person tent. Sam decided to talk to Cattgurl and boyfran (the terrible two) and ask to switch tents. They said no, and when Sam tried to explain that there were 8 of us in a tiny tent, she was like, “that’s not our problem.” It kind of is. You’re on a fucking team. Teams share shit. Y’all were making out in my tent earlier you fucking turds. To which Sam said, “Not all of us are blessed with camping gear.” And we had other tents that we never set up because we were expecting them to be more generous than they were. They were just rude and obnoxious so we’re like fuck you and had puzzle human fun times in that tent without them. 

Around 6 I was like fuck you I only got three hours of sleep so I went to Starbucks and got people some dranks. Got bless vanilla lattes, man. And we went back and cleaned up our campsite. Around 8, the terrible two were still asleep in their tent and we were fucking livid because we did all the clean-up and while they slept in their Satan tent. And I was explaining this to the team next to ours, and by the morning, everyone (even them) were tired of these two so these two guys from the team next to ours went and shook their tent and I laughed my ass off because shit was hilarious. They deserved it. Couldn’t be fucked to help us clean up. The boyfran got out of his tent and yelled at them and then us and I was like, “wow, this vanilla latte is really delicious.”

About 30 minutes later — when they still had not helped us do shit — this fucking waste of a vagina comes out and snarks at us. At this point I’m having a conversation about SATs and APs and colleges and the like/ everyone is bitching about these two. Somebody asked me what I got on my SAT or something and I told them I got a 2370. She overheard, which I really didn’t want. A) I don’t like people knowing my scores and grades and stuff because they make me look smarter than I really am and I don’t want to be typecast. And B) She’s obsessed with getting into Stanford and a very jealous person. She snaps, “Wow, I think it’s really great that people can get a 2370 on their SATs and still be such an asshole.”

I’m sorry — what have I ever done to deserve that? I don’t like her (because she’s a piece of shit), but I’m not going to devote time to disliking her. I never say any of the rude and offensive shit she always says to my face. I’m not Mother Theresa or anything, and I’m well aware that I can come off aloof or unfriendly or obnoxious, but I am not a hostile person. Obviously, I can’t see the “full issue” or whatever, but I have no idea what I did to sabotage her livelihood enough to call me an asshole. And I didn’t retort, because I don’t want that kind of energy in my life, but I did tell her boyfriend that it was really unnecessary of her to say that. To which he said it was unnecessary their tent to get shaken. And we said, “We didn’t even do that.” And he said, “Yeah, but you just sat by and laughed while they did it.” I’m sorry — you won’t let us sleep in your tent even though you used mine, and you still think protecting your tent is our responsibility? Fuck you guys. They’re such silly people. It’s actually really funny I almost started laughing. But he’s 6’3” and has crazy anger issues so I was like, “FUCK. TACT. WHERE ARE YOU?”

Connie appears to believe this is to some degree my fault. I honestly don’t know what I did to deserve this animosity. I’m too busy to waste time with this girl.

Next order of business: this week’s Newsroom. IT WAS SO GOOD! Are you watching this show? You should be watching this show. This is legitimately the best show on TV right now. The scene where Will’s brain surgeon date meets him at the office killed me. Funny as balls. And Jim and Maggie continue to be the cutest thing since puppies. Speaking of Maggie, as someone who suffers from panic disorder, I was so moved by Maggie’s panic episode. So often I see my disorder trivialized and parodied in film and TV — if I even see it at all — and to see a realistic portrayal of what a panic attack is like… God, I don’t even know where to begin. Maggie goes into a panicked state differently than I do, but I still related so much to how she felt. It was comforting, and oddly empowering. I loved it so much I refused to delete the episode from my DVR. And again, John Gallagher, Jr. is a hot a piece of ass, and Jim Harper is adorable. ADORABLE. This show gives me feelings. Message me if you watch the Newsroom because we need to talk and become BEST FRIENDS.

And now I’m going back to sleep.

HOLY FUCK, GUYS.

I got a 2370 on my SAT. A motherfucking 2370. As in, 30 points away from perfect. HOLY FUCKING BALLS. HOLY MOTHER OF SHIT. WHAT THE FUCK EVEN I JUST EDITED THIS TO ADD MORE CAPSLOCK EMOTION BECAUSE THIS IS SO OVERWHELMING HOLY GOD WHAT EVEN THIS IS AMAZING. MIRACLES DO HAPPEN, KIDS.

My new job is hella swanky.

So I intern at an office job, and I was totally expecting to do photocopy and coffee runs all summer, but lo and behold I show up to work on Monday and they have work for me to do. Pretty soon I realized I would rather be doing coffee runs. But it’s actually not so bad. I take Caltrain to work every day (Cat’s out of the bag. I live in the Bay Area.), and it’s a nice opportunity to relax before and after work. Everybody else has like fancy-ass modern glasses and is working on shit and I’m just like, “nah. I’m going to vegetate.” But the people on Caltrain totally restore my faith in humanity. On Monday, the Caltrain officer as I was getting ready to get off the train was like, “I bet you’re excited to go to work today,” to which I replied, “Actually, I am, because today’s my first day.” And so he wished me luck and the next day somebody who gets off at the same station as me was like, “How was your first day?” And I just kJSDnfksdnfks you’re so nice it was great thank you. And on my way home Tuesday, some jerk made kissy faces at me and the guy next to me told him to stop being pathetic and fuck off. God bless. But enough about Caltrain. My office is a block away from a comic shop, which I took full advantage of today. Exercising restraint like yeah. Everybody is super nice, especially my boss, who’s only like 25 and bought me lunch on Monday and plays ping-pong with me when he thinks I’m working too hard and you know he kind of looks like a half Asian Joseph Gordon-Levitt so I’m not going to complain. Also I get paid. Which is nice.

Let me tell you a story:

On Thursday, my friend Ahalya and I worked on our French project, which was to make a traditional Seychellois dessert called “daube de banane.” So we followed the recipe, putting plantains and sweet potatoes in a pan and covering it with coconut milk and spices. It was supposed to look like this (but with sweet potatoes, too):

It ended up looking like cat diarrhea. And so Ahalya and I were like, “Shit balls fuck. What are we going to do this looks like cat diarrhea.” So we tried to reduce the coconut milk and pour it over the dish to make it look better. Instead, it looked like we’d covered it in bloody semen.

At this point, we’re basically fucked. But then Ahalya suggested we blend it. I laughed, but she said, “No, I’m serious, we can just say it’s a dessert soup.” So we put our French project in a blender. The next day we told everyone that daube de banane is a Seychellois dessert soup and they believed us.

"You're rather handsome" does not mean "you me sex now"

Random thoughts about random things in my life.

1. Today, the cast of Sweet Charity had a meeting or whatnot, and we were talking about dance spaces we could use over the break. And the director was like, “Does anybody have a warehouse we can use?” And I said, “I would, but that’s where I keep all the dead bodies.” This was important because a) the people who laughed = people I want to talk to and b) this was when I realized that I crack way too many dead body jokes.
2. One of said laughing people was Raphael. Raphael is this really skinny kind of tall kid with long dark blonde hair who is invariably dressed in a plaid button down shirt, skinny jeans, and black running shoes. He is the only white kid is the Asian street dancing club, and he’s pretty much my best friend. He just doesn’t know it yet. And by it, I mean my name.
3. My friend is doing costumes for the musical, and she was measuring people today. One of these people was this guy named Daniel, who is a gigantic manwhore and was obviously trying to make her uncomfortable (which was not difficult.) Anyway, she had to measure his inseam, which of course required measuring up near the no-no place. And I was like, “Missed it, missed it. Now you gonna kiss it.” And nobody was there to appreciate my humor. I was upset.
4. One of my friends — and by friend, I mean some one I legitimately talk a lot, and not just a facebook friend — deleted me on facebook. Naturally, I thought that maybe I did something wrong (I’m good at that), so I sent her a text about it, and she said, “I just feel like we get along much better over text and in person.” I’m not mad; I’m just really confused.
5. Yoko manages to find me literally every time I go online. Sometimes, I wonder if she has any other friends.
6. I just switched from Prozac to Zoloft. Which prompts the following question: “What the fuck is the difference?”

On musicals:

So, incidentally, I decided to audition for Sweet Charity, because I’m an idiot and I convince myself to do things very easily. And so the first day, I sang, and I guess it went well because the director told me today that I’m “one of the better singers in this production.” (I am allowing myself one moment to be vain. This is it. Vanity done.) And then the next day, I danced. Terribly. But by what was either a massive blunder in judgment or a miracle, I got called back. At that point, I was thinking, Shit, man. I don’t know how to act. And at callbacks, I realized that I kind of wanted to play Nickie, which incidentally is a lot of acting and singing and dancing. But I go up, and I figure since I’m Italian, I basically just have to talk like my family. So I did. And I guess I didn’t do very well because I didn’t get that role. But, you know, c’est la vie. I have the great honor of playing “1st Girl At the Y,” which I guess is more than I could’ve asked for, because I guess what I really wanted was to just hang in the background and sing backup. But my character is taking a class on sex in the later stages of marriage despite not being married, so that’s pretty fucking awesome. I think it might’ve been fun to play Nickie, but the girl who got that role really deserved it, so I’m fine.

I’m really excited, though. Despite the fact that I’m in all but one dance number (Seriously. I cannot dance.), I think I’m going to have fun.

In a matter of hours, I will be staying at Brown.

Which means that I’ll be finding out who my roommate is. I picture this going one of three ways.

1. I get a single room, and I sleep by myself for three weeks in blissful peace.
2. My roommate is white with long dark hair. She’s rich, she’s probably Jewish, and she’s from New York. Upstate. She’d be here taking, I don’t know, portraiture or some shit. In my imagination, she’s nice enough, we get along fine, but we don’t become BFFS4EVR.
3. My roommate is Asian. Like, really really really Asian. Her last name only has one syllable, she’s really quiet, and she’s taking some course on biology or engineering or something. She doesn’t talk, so there’s really not much friendship to be built there.

My guesses are never right, though. C’est la vie.

Finally landed in Boston

That flight was so boring. After I finished East of Eden and Paper Towns, I kind of ran out of things to do, so I just played games on my phone. But now I’m at my grandfather’s house just outside of Boston, so I can finally get some sleep. Oh, if any of y’all are ever in the Boston area, go to Fauci’s Pizza in Lynn. Don’t you question me. This pizza is the strongest evidence of the existence of God I have come to find. Just buy yourself a large eggplant pizza and you can thank me later. I’ll be busy for the next few days, so I might not post again until Sunday when I get to Brown. But right now, I just want to sleep.

Just found out that The Postelles are opening for The Kooks tomorrow.

I FUCKING LOVE THE POSTELLES!!!! THIS IS SO EXCITING I CAN’T CONTAIN MYSELF KJSBDFKSDFKJBSDFKJSBDFKDS!!!!