Rohit's Realm - February 2004

// / archive / 2004 / 02

February 03, 2004

To Live and Die in Berkeley

This story begins, as most of my stories worth telling do, in that cesspool of infection, disease, and dirty people known as the UC Berkeley Residence Halls. When not being drunk and loud, it's select inhabitants are necessarily being dirty and unsanitary, contributing to the widespread infection of the population at large. As a result, I have become sick for the first time in two years! The last time I was sick (I mean sick enough to feel like shit) was, fittingly enough, in the dorms my first year! I guess it comes with the territory, but it's still really frustrating to have to be like 80 times as vulnerable to illness because of all the people living around you.

February 18, 2004

Big Shit, Little Shit

It seems like forever since I've written anything. In fact, given the trends of the last couple years, it is forever. But it's not anything new either. I'm prone to long bouts of continuous posting followed by drawn out spells of silence. However, this time, my silence has been mitigated not by any lack of thoughts, but rather by an all consuming problem known in most circles as "life." Well not really life, so much as school. That's nothing new either though - school's always a problem too. What's new this semester however, is that a disturbing trend in my academic endeavors that has been growing with every week, has finally reached epidemic levels. The trend I speak of is probably one with which any self-respecting scientist or engineer is familiar with: the paradoxically simultaneous expansion and contraction of everything I am studying. In other words, big shit, little shit. Still don't get it? Let try to me explain.

February 20, 2004


It's weird how I never really picked up on how truly obsessive my personality is, until a few weeks ago, when I was cleaning up my room, and happened upon some relics from bygone years. I mean, I've been accused jokingly of being obsessive-compulsive by almost everyone who knows me at one point or another, from my family, to my friends, to my acquaintances, to random people who don't even really know me. But I always played that off as a joke. Guess the joke was on me.

February 24, 2004

Hope for the Hopeless

Caffeine Molecule


Caffeine. It is America's drug of choice—perhaps the whole world's—and doubly so if you look at the college-age population. In making this assertion, I am overtly and consciously ignoring alcohol as the college drug of choice. This is for many reasons, most important of which is the fact that I have something to say about caffeine and this introductory paragraph is really just crap. Another equally important reason on which I will justify my decision is that caffeine is the college drug of choice used with some beneficial purpose in mind. Again, I am sure people will contest this last point, claiming alcohol too can be used for beneficial purposes, particularly for saying and doing (sketchy) things with relative impunity. Point conceded. If your purpose is to tell that bastard that he really sucks or that man/woman that you would not mind doing them, I grant you that alcohol will definitely help you on your way there. Restricting the definition of beneficial to substances that aid in academics or work, however, removes alcohol from the mix, as it has no beneficial role to play in this context. And no, it still does not count as beneficial if you are suicidal and need to drink to get through school or work.

February 01, 2004

The Phantom Menace

Anyone who has the slightest familiarity with the happenings of my life (and I feel bad for you, if you do) realizes that I am a type of person who seemingly attracts idiots and imbeciles everywhere I go. The reason for this awful trend remains dubious at best, although I would venture that it is either a result of: (1) Fate; (2) my self-aggrandizing egotistical belief that the world revolves around me; or (3) pheromones. Personally, I really hope it's not the first reason because I don't know if I could go on knowing that I'm destined to encounter more incompetence for the rest of my life! Plus, if it were the third reason, I could just use a better soap and wash away all those pesky pheromones! All this is besides the point. The point of this entry is to discuss yet another potent force of destruction that has plagued me since high school—the phantom telephonist.