Back to square 1

While emoinacloset was crying in his pillow and boarding his flight, muffinman was dealing with his own set of issues...

Coming off another hard night of drinking alone (I have great scotch and technically I was not alone Ashley was watching), I woke up feeling better but nonetheless lonely. I believe Robocop and Emoinacloset are right about my growing dependence and if it is not growing it is definitely regaining strength.

The root of the problem seems to be my lack of a relationship. I miss the cuddling, love and that inexplicable warmth that comes with knowing that you have someone. It seems that all my problems could be solved by finding that someone, but I am asking for too much?

My friends know that I have been looking into a few interests this summer and that so far none of them have really gone anywhere. Well tonight, you can add another one to the "just friends list." After talking to her for quite awhile I have come to the conclusion that this girl is simply not right for me and that perhaps my interest in her before came forth more from desperation than attraction. I need someone who is more caring and attentive and definitely less obnoxious. The fact that I had known all of this before and was still pursuing her is worrying as it shows my desperation. The last thing I want is to find myself falling for someone out of desperation.

I am back now to square one with zero interests and wondering when I am going to find that one elusive girl. In my crisis while writing this post, I have begun yelling at Angela to stay on the phone with me because I do not want to be alone. I only let her off the phone when she bribed me with a cup of coffee (my weakness?). Yes, I have reached that point, be very disappointed in me because I am disappointed in myself. When did I ever become so dependent?

Basically I hella need a girlfriend because cuddling with stuffed animals is just not cutting it.
Isn't someone supposed to save you when you hit rock bottom? Or do I have to start digging?

Emoinacloset I hope you are having better luck than me at NYU.

-muffinman

Entering the Belly of the Beast

I wrote most of this entry while I was on my flight. I mean, seriously, on a five hour flight, what else am I going to do? It’s not like I can just play ejaculation rocketship in the cabin and kill some time – I didn’t have enough elbow room. I require a full arm swing to get myself off, so that wasn’t an option.

Let me start with the goodbyes. It was my last day home, and the last time I would see my friends for a very long time. There were many tears, and much embracing as I left to go to college. We hugged it out like only real men can. I told Muffinman he’d never find someone as interesting as I am; Robocop he was really going to regret not coming to New York to visit me; Josh to not hurt himself so much; and Eric to stop being so whipped. Good advice was exchanged between men that day, although Josh seems hell-bent on hurting himself again.

After a final farewell, I started packing unenthusiastically. After all, who looks forward to stuffing your whole life into two suitcases? I was packing well into the night when I told myself it would be a great idea to get a little bit of sleep before I finished packing. My seven am flight was at SFO, meaning I would have to leave the house at around 5am. It was one in the morning.
4:30 AM:

“Fail,” my dad said as he came in my room to wake me up. I snapped awake and rushed to finish packing under the glare of an incredulous parent. Fortunately, my bedroom window was wide open so he couldn’t yell at me for procrastinating so ridiculously (Note to self: good tactic in times of distress) but we hurriedly packed and made it to the airport with more than enough time to spare. They don’t call me the God of Procrastination for nothing.

I got on the airplane without too much fanfare – after all, it was pretty early in the morning, can’t expect a parade from my fans – and left my parents with hugs and kisses. There was none of that wailing and intense sobbing like you see in those Korean dramas; just a bit of nagging before I boarded the plane, which I was incredibly thankful for (the “just a bit part”, not the nagging).

I walked in the airplane expecting normal florescent lights lighting the plane only to find the inside was lit up like a cheap strip club with violet and magenta lights illuminating the cabin. The trance music during the takeoff and landing only made it worse; it was the type of music you might find in a bad porno.

However, this was the first time I’d ever flown with Virgin America and I was amazed at all the features they had on board. For one thing, they had a cartoon safety video worth paying attention to, compared to the standard flight attendant demonstration they usually have on normal flights. They also had a touch screen based entertainment system which was really fun to play with. I think I was playing around with it for a good hour of the flight, but I was dismayed to find a poor selection of black music so Virgin gets a big fat thumbs down for that one.

I was also amazed to find a power outlet right under my seat, but I was more amazed that my laptop wasn’t compatible with it. Like, seriously? Way to tease me and string me along like that you fucking whore spaceship I hope you die filled with shame from the pain you’ve caused me. Just don’t die with me in it. And not with other people in it too, that would be bad also. To make matters worse, I realized I had forgotten to bring my iPod back to school. That’s like, the equivalent of accidently leaving your first-born child in the car on a hot summer day. Forget homesickness, forget starvation, and forget “important things” like classes, jobs, and other adult-y responsible stuff – I don’t know how I’ll be able to survive a whole semester without my iPod.

But other than that, my flight was good. Honestly I still can’t believe I’m in New York right now, sitting in my dorm writing this. Even when I was walking around, I kept forgetting to jaywalk like I’m supposed to. Not used to it again I suppose. Everything seems so new, yet so familiar at the same time. I’m sharing a room with a person that I met for the first time today and there's no food in the refrigerator. Life is good.

-Emoinacloset

Something Missing

Robocop here. I'm actually feeling like getting my thoughts out, so I thought I'd put this feeling to good use

Let me just preface this by saying that I'm not a natural writer, so naturally, I've been having trouble finding my own voice for my blog entries. I think I'll be playing around with different voices for the first several entries and find my center that way. I know my first entry sounded melodramatic as hell, and I promise... I'll try to tone it down for this one.

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So, you know why my name is Robocop, but I guess you really don't know anything about me yet. Well as it turns out, I don't either. I guess you could say I'm on that ultimate quest to find myself. Some call it the journey to enlightenment. Others call it the path to Jesus. People from all walks of life have pegged different names to it, and that I'm totally okay with because I'm not particularly religious.
SIDEBAR: Let's just NOT start a flame war about what religion I should subscribe to. This isn't Youtube.

I've actually taken a year off for this journey of mine and thought it'd be fun to log my feelings, perceptions, and hopefully-soon-to-come epiphanies. So.. let me fill you in.


guess it started during the latter parts of the senior year of high school. If you are anywhere around my age (yeah.. you're going to have to guess), you know what it's like.

You're just a couple of chores, assignments, and long, boring days of class away from the party life! Smirnoff here I come! You're just inching to get that dog collar you call your parents' authority off your neck and kick it at your dorm-your own place-with your buds.

Me? I didn't look forward to it at all. When I got that college acceptance letter in the mail, I felt absolutely nothing. I wasn't excited at all. I should have noticed something was wrong then. I should have been able to connect the dots, but I pushed that thought aside and fell into the mold society had provided for me. College was the next step. After high school, people went to college. No gap year. This was just how it was.

So, I went to college.
I made wonderful friends and had a blast, but the whole time I was there, there was something missing. It was an issue that I could no longer ignore.

I looked around me and saw these friends of mine, having the time of their lives. Some knew what they were going to do with their lives. Others did not. But all were very much in tune with themselves. They exuded a sense of stability and self-awareness that I didn't possess. Not only that, but college meant something to these people. College was a step towards monetary success, an invaluable source of new knowledge, and path to new life experiences. This will sound strange, but I couldn't care less about these things. There was still something fundamentally missing. I just wouldn't be happy until I had figured it out.

And so, not being able to bear with such a feeling and not ever wanting my college experience to be one of aimless wandering, I took a year off to get some perspective- to find myself.

I know this all sounds very vague, and maybe, I'm not conveying this as well as I could have. But very simply put, I guess one could say that we are all lost at some point in our lives, but when we are lost, we usually have that one thing we hold on to. The one thing that steadies and guides us when we have forgotten the way ahead.

However, I seem to have been lost at sea without a compass for some time and have only just started to wonder where I am in this universe.

I must admit that the goal to find myself during my gap year is a bit ambitious, but if anything, this gap year will serve as a wonderful beginning to a renewed self, and this blog a wonderful way to convey that beginning.

-Robocop

p.s. Although this entry was a bit more serious, I hope this was better. There was a trade off, it seems. While making the entry less dramatic, I coincidentally made it terribly long. I also hope that things will become clearer for you guys as I write more.

Cause when I'm _____, I'm as happy as can be.

EDIT: Wanted to Label it...

So, late start to this blog. I've already started school, which means I have no time for blogging.

Anyways, I'm taking all science classes this semester. Which sucks because everything kind of just blends together.

I'm so tan right now after band camp. Although, it was actually cold in Davis which apparently never happens. I have like a v-neck tan that's really noticeable. Band's cool. We have some awesome shows this year. Too bad emoinacloset is missing the football game this Saturday. We have a pretty amazing halftime show.

We already got a couple noise complaints from last night's party. It was hilarious last year when the cops showed up. They'll probably come by this year too.

My apartment is cool. But we live right across from a frat. And right next to a frat, so it's always loud every night. And a couple that apparently lives right above us always argue really loudly at night. Also, one of my roommates is a really good cook.

What else. All my professors are really boring. One of my classes was way too full with all the waitlisted people, and I had to stand outside the fucking room during class.

I just spent close to $200 on books and readers and lab manuals. So, I could have bought like five new pairs of kicks. This is a good place to segue way into how I got my nickname, which is apparently dontscuffmyshoes. It's actually really simple. DON'T TOUCH MY SHOES! Or I'll fucking make you suck it. Just kidding. But really, muffinman and Robocop can back this up.

I think I'll make recommendations of music and Youtube videos at the end of my posts.

Watch: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hQp5l4-sfFA
and listen to I Got You (I Feel Good) by James Brown.

Do it now.

-Dontscuffmyshoes

Going Back to School And Becoming a Sex Slave

I am excited to go back to school.

Whaa? Like writing essays, going to class (questionable), and taking care of stuff your mom usually does, but now you have to do yourself? To add on to the absurdness of college, not knowing how to cook and the fact that there isn’t even a dining hall nearby to turn to in times of extreme hunger and laziness means I’m going to die eating cereal for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. The suicide note will be easily explainable, but at least I won’t still be in the suburbs doing nothing.

Yes, it’s time for me to go back to NYU. For those of you who don’t know, NYU doesn’t have an actual campus – instead, we live in the heart of Manhattan, living amongst the hustle and bustle of ordinary New Yorkers. The NYU buildings would look just like the rest of Manhattan if it weren’t for the NYU purple flags and the swarms of students jaywalking to their next classes. You’ll be able to spot me by looking for my California style T-shirts, worn-out jean shorts and raggedy-taggedy flip-flops (for which I’m sure the hard-core hipster fashionistas will glare at me). Personally, I’m excited to go back to New York for two reasons (and not just for the reason shown in the picture below).

There's nothing wrong with a bunch of college kids having a soda party is there?

First, as sophomore year comes around, I’ll finally be getting my feet wet in the business world by taking my business core intro classes. Unfortunately, that accounting class I took last semester ripped my head off, splatted it against NYU’s linoleum-floored hallways, and then proceeded to use it as a mop to wipe the floors with. The vultures had a good time eating what was left of me and I know what it feels like to get totally owned in a class. Thank you, Stern curve.

Second, this year I will begin my study abroad trek around the world; London during sophomore spring, Shanghai in junior fall, and then (somewhere) in Latin America during junior spring break. Below are my graphic representations of the two cities.

London -- foggy and/or rainy all day, everyday

What, not politically correct enough for you?

This trifecta of awesomeness among three of the financial capitals of the world – New York, London, and Shanghai – has to equal at least a few adventures. If you think about it, I’m risking my life to embark on a journey that may end up disastrous. After all, I could be mugged, beat up, stabbed, shot, or knocked out by a hobo to find that I’ve ended up in Thailand as some gang leader’s bitch through a sex trafficking version of EBay – all of which would make excellent fodder to blog about.

-emoinacloset

Why muffinman?

To first understand my name that my friends have so graciously bestowed on me, I need to dig a little in my past. Back in senior year of high school I took up baking as a way to impress a girl and as a source of comfort for when it failed. The girl came and went but the baking stayed and to this day my friends ask me to bake for them. So it should come as no surprise that my nickname is the muffinman.

However, baking is only half the reason for my name. My friends often tell me that I have an abrasive personality due to my blunt attitude and dark sense of humor. On the outside I often seem apathetic and at times tactless due to the things I do and say to others, but my close friends know that beneath that hard exterior lies a softer and more sensitive side. My friends decided that this hard exterior and soft interior character of mine was very similar to the hard outer crust and soft inside of a muffin.

So blog may you show off my brusque exterior and insecure interior.

-muffinman

Life Is Robocop

Why is my name Robocop?
My name was born under a series of unfortunate circumstances. A flow of events that began with the thoughts of finishing what was left of the precious liquid that had fueled memorable nights.

Although impulse was confronted by some form of hesitation, this pitiful attempt at self-restraint was very short-lived. Before anyone knew what was happening, eleven glasses had been poured and emptied- five for muffinman, five for emoinacloset, and one for dontscuffmyshoes-, and I had become the designated driver. As they began to succumb to the liquid's better effects, I reminded them that we still had to form nicknames for the four of us as a form of discretion. They started with mine. The only rule was that the name was to be agreed upon by everybody except the person being named.

Guided by their newly found creativity, muffin and emoinacloset fired away with names like "robotbuilder" and "robotbuilder101", alluding to the fact I attend MIT and, therefore, MUST build robots in my spare time.*

I thought this to be absolutely ridiculous, and I retorted with..
"If you're gonna call me that, you might as well call me Robocop."

And with that, I became Robocop.

Does the name refer to my appearance? Does it refer to my superior, computer-like sense of logic? Does it refer to my never-ending fight for justice? Does it describe anything real about me at all?

To the naysayers, I say that it represents a great night with great friends and great drinks. What could be better?

That's with this blog is about.


-Robocop

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*I actually don't make robots in my spare time, but naturally, I have nothing against people who do.

Life Is Not Worth Living

Why am I the emo in the closet? My friends gave me this nickname because I'm an emotional wreck on the inside while on the outside I refuse to divulge my teen angst. I never knew there was this side of me that begged for attention until my friends pointed it out – hence the picture I drew showing my true nature (courtesy of Paint).

My friends – especially Robocop and Muffin Man – always complain about me not opening up to them, even though the reason is that I forget most stuff that’s worth talking about. So the goal, for me at least, is to get all my thoughts and notes on paper (along with the havoc I’ll be wrecking all year).

So Blog, may you fill up with my sad, sad memories so I don’t have to use precious brain space to remember them.

-emoinacloset

The True Spirit of This Blog at Least to Me

Since I do not want to be associated with emoinacloset's blog introduction as it does not capture the TRUE spirit of this blog, I am going to go ahead and write my own.

Coffee is a beverage of conversation. Inviting people to have coffee is to invite them to a conversation. And that is how it all started, four friends sitting around a coffee shop (ARC) talking, gossiping and learning about ourselves. Even though ARC served terrible coffee, it did not matter, we met up so we that we could escape for a few moments the responsibilities of life. ARC was a place where we could laugh and swear away anything or anybody with each other.

Alas all good things must come to an end, the year of coffee seemed all too short and we had to go our separate ways to college. Separated, we thought little of each other as we lived our own lives miles apart until summer reunited us. Now we have seen the error of our ways and this blog is our way of staying together.

When we once again leave for college to face the perils of another year, we will not be able to meet and sit in a brick and mortar coffee shop so this cyber cafe will have to do instead.

Let the coffee always flow
-muffinman

Mission Possible (?)

Mission #1: Take myspace angle pictures with professors
Mission #2: All of us get internships in New York over the summer and rent an apartment together

Mission Ultimate: Blog the shit out of this


We will add more missions as we think of them, so this post may be updated. Missions will function like a dare. Once it's posted we must all attempt it, and then write about our success (or spectacular failure). As we complete each mission will check off each one.

The Beginning of the End

As high school students, all we did was drink coffee, because coffee stimulates conversation. For us, "Coffee Talk" was a way of life and a way of being.

And for the four of us -- well, it seems we just can't spend enough time with each other.

ERGO! Life After ARC was born. Written jointly by four authors, Life After ARC is designed to chronicle the lives of four students as they go off to their respective colleges. What will happen next? Who will be the first to be found dead in a ditch? Whose cuisine reigns supreme?!

-emoinacloset