"you look lost"

so?

i like looking lost if it leaves the opportunity for being found.

blondie said it best

Call me call me any anytime
Call me for a ride
Call me call me for some overtime
Call me in my life
Call me call me in a sweet design
Call me call me for your lover's lover's alibi
Call me on the line
Call me call me any anytime
Call me
Oh, call me, ooh ooh ah.
Call me my love.
Call me, call me any anytime.



nation : i decided i wanna call people more often
nation : and they shoudl call me
nation : i dont like aim anymore


im reading this book about/by andy warhol, called, the philosophy of andy warhol.

in it, he talks about how he would get up in the morning and call someone. his friend who he is on the phone with, replies that she gets up and lays there waiting for the people she wants to call to call her.


i remember the time when i hated telephone calls. its not at all that i didnt like hearing from people that i cared about, i just really couldn't stand to pick up the phone and hear yet another sad telemarketer on the other end of the line. and it always was. and i didnt like telephones anymore.

and i prefered aim. because theres no dealing with telemarketers there.

but that was a long while ago. before i realized how much better i felt when i took the time to call someone to wish them a happy birthday. i like how i was really able to concentrate on you, what you were saying, and not have to switch between the relentless AIM boxes that i finally might have managed to neatly organize on my desktop.

plus
i really enjoyed hearing your voice/s.


so yesterday i got up
and i called allen, who i woke up, just like the good old days. (its so comforting to know that some things never change. )
so he was there lying in comforter heaven while i was lounging with my own blanket on my couch, and we were finally able to talk on the phone for a good hour like we used to. and i didnt have to worry about crappy reception because i could finally use my home phone agaaaaiiin.

(for those of you that dont have my home number btw... please ask me for it.)

and then i called naime. i swear i was on the phone with her the whole day. which was cool.




i was on aim a little earlier talking to a friend. we both decided to head off, and he said he'd see me later, either at the friday shindig, or online.

i said okay


BUT!

i shoulda said!

orrrr we can call eachother.



and thats that. =)

samiah's dream. strangely speaking. and that's how you get the girl.

so i was woken up at four:twenty this morning to the sound of my next door neighbor having sex with his girlfriend.

the girlfriend, our friend, was making all the noise.
maral you know who i'm talking about.


anyway.

i went back to sleep and got up two hours later to pray, enjoy the view from my window of a pink and purple sunrise, and study.

and write down what just appeared in my dream those two hours before i woke up.

before i get to that, i want to talk about the view from my window every (early) morning.

so a many blogs back, i posted maaaany pictures of the window of my room at home, and i talked about how i would miss it so much.

and i do.

but i'm pretty sure that when i go home in a few days, i'm definitely going to miss my window here at ucla. the one with a view.

around 6 am every morning, i can see out my window from my bed, and all i see is pretty much a pinkish sky. and then i get up, look out the entire window, and not only is it pink sky, its pink, fading into purple, and then underneath it all is the small ucla cityscape, all the buildings lighted through their windows.

i used to think the view was really great at night, when it was dark blue and all you could really see were the lights in the buildings and the silhouettes of buildings and trees.

and then maral came and informed me that i was sleeping the wrong way, plus i realized i was sleeping in the direction disrespectful to Mecca, so, I changed my ways.

and boyyy was i rewarded.

so i wake up, and ive discovered the REAL good view. the one when theres that slight contrast of morning light and electric lights. that sounds so dissonant. but its really not. i need to take some pictures.


alright.
my dream.

i woke up and wow. i coudldn't decide whether i was
a. very happy that i dreamed something so nice
b. very upset that it was a dream
c. very content that my mind has such a creative dream state
d. worried that i have weird bottled emotions inside that are attacking me in my dream state.
e. going to sleep a little more or just get the heck up.

anyway.

i really need to go eat lunch so im going to have to cut it a little shorter than i expected. hahah im so sorry.

basically in my dream, i'm hanging out in the classiest res hall study lounge ever. it was weird. because it was in rieber hall. rieber hall which is lovingly dubbed "the ghetto" by those who live here.

on sidenote, i really like living in rieber in its crummy state. i think the fact that we need to push our elevator doors closed ourselves gives rieber hall character. and all the people living in it.

so i was hanging out in some lush lounge. it wasnt even a study lounge it was like a recreational lounge that had nice things inside. moving on. this guy appears, who in my dream lives in another hall. apparently a friend of mine. and he hands me an asian pear. apparently it was an inside joke we had. and then he said to me, "do you wanna be taken out for dinner??" and apparently i had (im saying apparently a lot because these things are just becoming apparent to me) been waiting to eat dinner with this dude so i was like "yeahhhh!" and then he said, "well my friends are all waiting so go get dressed and then meet us!"

so then i went up to go get dressed.

a bunch of WEIRD THINGS went on in my dream when i was up in my room. one of these thigns being there was a girl hiding in my room from an RA from who knows where and then the RA knocked on my door and i peeped out the eyehole and it was an old woman and then the girl hiding in my room was like DONT OPEN IT ITS HER!

weeeird hahaha

ok.
so i got up to my room to get dressed, and i see that i have a voicemail on my phone.

so i listen

and its from the guy that im getting ready to go hang out/eat dinner with.


lemme tell you now

it was the sweetest, most beautiful voicemail any girl could ever hear from any guy, ever.

and it was in MY DREAM BITCHES!!!!

ahahaha

yeah.

which is also very weird because its ME. and i dont think about these things. so yeah it was weird. but when it was happening i really did not care. because his voicemail was BEAUTIFUL.

and im going to share it with you.

the thing is, after listenign to the voicemail, i texted the dude back, but for some weird reason i texted all these accidental weird things, and i started thinking, omg i hope this is a dream i hope this is a dream.

and then i woke up.

and then i grabbed a paper and wrote down all i could remember of the voicemail.

so here it is.

i realize. its going to sound ... not as beautiful. but it was.

because it was so simple. and honest. and straightforward. and i think thats beautiful.


"We're all meeting at 11. So I'll see you when you get here. Oh, and before dinner we're going to watch a movie.

I was wondering if during the movie I could sit near you.

After that, we're going to dinner, really casual. But I was thinking maybe after I sat near you in the movie, sometime later we could go eat somewhere a little more formal, you and i, ... or not, if you don't want to. it's okay. i'm okay if you just wanna keep it casual, but i just thought i'd ask.

So i'll see you at 11."









honestly.
boys could seriously take a lesson from this guy hahah.

aww.

arrite. lunch timeeee.

Currently listening :
The Papercut Chronicles
By Gym Class Heroes
Release date: 22 February, 2005

beatlemania

i finally bought the beatles abbey road poster.

but this was a week ago.




yesterday, my parents came to visit me.
we were just in my room, talking, eating, and then my dad looks up and says,

"that's a really good poster you got there"




that meant a lot to me.


i'm not sure why, i'm really not, but i felt really content when he shared that.





and then my mom pointed out how paul mccartney was walking barefoot. and we all started talking about his sad divorce. and stupid yoko ono.



and ive said it before, but i'm definitely going to say it again,

thank goodness for the beatles.

more instances of my college life and other miscellaneous stream of consciousness.

in other words, listen to me procrastinate.


yesterday i was in powell library trying to learn math. and i kept taking mental breaks of about five seconds to just think of things other than math. i realized i really dont like math. but i love science. biology physics. chem...eh not so much.

anyway.

so i have a history of modern thought class, which is the most boring class i have ever been in so far. however, it is fun because i sit with two of my favorite people, pat and kyle. and we make it fun by passing notes, playing hangman, and writing stories.

the way we write stories is like this.

first kyle writes a word. then pat writes a word. and then i write a word. and then we repeat.

the funny part is that they love writing things about ... well, i guess what every college level horny guy likes to write about.

except theyre not even... "horny". but i think they like to write stuff like that because they think i am prudish and they do it just to get a rise out of me. which they get sometimes hahah. but i'm a good sport. and kyle loves it because i try so hard to keep it clean, pg status. its just funny for them. and when we read the story at the end of class, its funny for me too.

umm...

so that class is located in deneve, a building through which there is another "building" i guess (a complex? i dunno what to call it at this point), in which some of my friends live.

usually after my class in de neve i'll go up to the other building, dykstra, to visit my friends that live there.

this is a really lame story by the way im warning you now haha.

so for a couple of my friends i used to make them random things during my very boring lecture. and i hadnt done anything in a long time, plus writing the story with kyle and pat wasnt occupying my time enough, so i decided to make another random thing for the dykstrans.

i wanted to make a portable high five. except i never got around to making it as cool as it sounds because i am a perfectionist and every time i traced my hand it looked unsatisfactory. hahah. plus i was trying to do neat calligraphy on it and i kept trying to color it in with pen and i dunno it just wasnt working out for whatever reason.

anyway.

so i kept drawing hand after hand. trace hand, flip page. trace hand again. draw an H, get pissed off, turn page, add word to kyle and pat's story, trace hand again, this time write an h and an i, flip page, add word to story, make angry face and kyle and pat, and trace hand again.

so this was all wednesday.

so YESTERDAY, when i was studying in powell, i pulled out my notebook, the one with a billion hands in it now hahah.

i flipped to a clean page, started doing math. and then, all of a sudden this thought came into my mind. it was something i had said to my roommate a night ago when she came back after watching her brother's jazz band performance. something very honest and true. "Musicians are my favorite."

you know me? then you know they are. =p

so, i dont know why except that i thought it was a good idea, i flipped to one of the hands i had drawn, and on the first line inside that hand, i wrote, musicians are my favorite.

and then i kept on reading about lagrange error bound or something like that.
and then a while later i remembered something that crossed my mind last weekend when i was sipping apple cider while listening to my friend talk pretty loudly.

and then i wrote it down next to the first line i had written in the little hand. "i prefer low voices and intimate settings."

and then i did more math.

and by the time i left the library my little hand was full.


so here is what it says. random stuff about me. and it has a lot to do with me hating math. i wonder why.




musicians are my favorite. I prefer low voices and intimate settings. In a man, I value morals and social graces. I like taking breaks to look around at the people near me. I do not use my Yves Saint Laurent sunglasses nearly enough. Any writing of words or phrases in math homework I think has been the only real thing to invoke sheer annoyance in me. It's just disgusting. The two should not be mixed. I have realized he and I cannot be lovers. I am passive aggressive towards the study of mathematics. I hate it. This should explain why the F-word is so omnipresent on my math homework. Boys are weak. If I could get a tattoo it would be of the word "Whatever", encompassing everything I am and everything I'm not.






so thats that


my boys are weak comment. thats something i would not normally say. because i just usually dont think that way. i dont like it. but i happened to think it at powell library. maybe a guy was holding less books than his girlfriend or something... =p and if i really had to get a word tattooed on me, itd prolly be... strokes. hahah.

i love you guys.


btw

today i would like to thank:

rod, arsham, maral, aida, rachel halper, ASHLEY, and adanna for being amazingly beautiful people. and pat and kyle =p

and sarah for always being so good at pretending that im decent looking. hahah i love you kid now lets kill em.