A great day

Just like in this blog post, I Did things today.  From vacuuming to gift wrapping and from driving friends to an early morning texting session, it was just an awesome and righteous day.

And I might even get a third job out of it.

Pet Peeves

1. Boys who stop flirting when they find out I go to a community college.  Not cool, dude.
2. People who are hanging out at my house who I don't know and didn't expect to be there.
3. People who use my stuff without asking.
4. Having to get up in a room colder than outside.
5. Text dropping.
6. "Cool story bro".  Just don't say it.
7. Douchebaggery.
8. Having to deal with idiots.

Dealbraker

He doesn't like to read and tried to impress me by flashing hundreds.

How disappointing.

Crush and swoon

Remember the hot Greek boy I referenced in my last post?  We've been consistently flirting in class for the past few weeks in class and in group meetings.  Today, we were making a silent film for for the presentation on Tuesday and he, during the filming, said "I love you" during the lines.  My brain started thinking "!!!!!" which made my response probably sound pretty dumb.

Between that, and him touching my hand, AND walking me down to my car (he remembered where I usually park, and parked there for this meeting), I think I've reached the shrieking point.

Literally.

I keep hearing glee love songs and start shrieking/giggling/jumping at them.  I can't focus on my midterm that needed to be turned in 7 hours ago, and I'm not even stressed about it. Not even the REALLY awkward Goofball visit (where I found out that he doesn't want to be friends, awkwardly) is piercing my good mood.

So it's time to pop the question.

I meant the casual "Wanna hang out, you have my phone number, hint, hint" question, of course.
; )

Sickness

I've literally spent the whole day in my bed.  You can tell because my bed is cluttered with tissues (used and unused), peanut butter, juice, cough drops, cough drop wrappers, my computer, cell phone, a flashdrive, and Norwegian flashcards.

All that's missing is for someone to arrive bearing vegetable soup. And for the hot Greek boy in my class to stop flirting and actually ask me out.

Dear God, I miss you.

In the past few days, I've felt a tug from something to go back to church and rediscover my spirituality.  Last night, I went to a Christian retreat, came home to do Wiccan spells and New Age chakra finding, and was called to get up and go to a church this morning.

But now, I'm not really sure what to do.  If I believed the Christian doctrine, that would be easy - I wander around until I found one of the thousands of churches around.  But after praying almost every Sunday (in church) for 5 years for God to let me believe in Jesus' God-status and it not happening, I really don't think that I can call myself a Christian. 

Actually, my thoughts on Christianity mirror Islam's stance; I believe that Jesus was a prophet, a man, who was pretty awesome and that the New Testament has potential for inaccuracies because of the gap time between Jesus doing things and people writing the stuff down.

I think, though, if I converted to anything else, my family would freak, especially since I live near them.  I love them, and don't really want to hurt them.  But I really miss having that connection to God through a body of worshiping people.  There really is nothing that can replace that sense of purpose, of worthiness, of meaning.

I miss having Him in my life, and I don't know how to find Him again.

Th4t G1rl

To all the people I have ever interrupted, given bad ideas to, unnerved, was oblivious to, steamrolled over, or made feel uncomfortable, I am so, SO sorry.  I will try hard to never do it again.  I really will.

Mostly because I never want to be that girl*.

You know the one I'm talking about.  The one who sits up front and tries to interject frequently, under the muddled thought that talking equals participation.  The one who, when she raises her hand, the entire class rolls their eyes and sighs.  The one who doesn't realize how low everyone else's opinion of her actually is - or that they even dislike her at all.  The one who comes up with zany ideas that have little to no use in the group. The one who interrupts people constantly and delineates conversations.  The one who everyone is secretly hoping not to talk to.  Yeah, her.

She's making my life miserable.

In one of my classes the instructor assigned a SUPER PROJECT, with an importance level of over 9000, with field trips to find scholarly journals and everything.  Since the project is so big, our instructor gave us three weeks to work on it - and we plan on using all three weeks.  So we sat down yesterday and started the work, creating an outline of the first section of our presentation.  We got finished very shortly after it was done and were really pleased with ourselves - everyone was contributing and on top of what was happening.

And then she came.  40 minutes late, because she hadn't really read the e-mail that I sent out with directions to the spot that I had chosen to meet the night before. 

She immediately got there and told us that we needed to do an introductory exercise so we could get to know each other, making one of the guys in the group feel awkward enough that he got up and left "to go buy a coffee" and then "to go get napkins" when she still wasn't finished blathering on about it.  In addition, the group consists of students that already knew each other - we've contributed in class together all semester and had already been working together productively for a while.  But, no, that girl had to stop us working halfway through the session to introduce ourselves to each other.

Our entire meeting  went like that.  In the next hour, we managed to get next to nothing done.  By preempting her comments at the end, we did manage to get a schedule set, but by them most of the group members had checked out mentally, because they couldn't get a word in edge-wise.  Finally, we called it a day and walked out.

I really am dreading doing another group meeting, because I just really can't stand talking to her.  I don' think that I have enough patience to negotiate with her - I don't suffer fools gladly.  The other problem is that I can see myself doing the same sort of thing - our personalities are close to each other.  And I really hope I never was that girl or anything close to it.  And I am really, REALLY sorry if I was.

* I fully recognize that this sort of idiot could be either gender.  However, in this case, both the person featured in this rant and I are girls, so grammatically it flows better if the sentence is restrictive.

The Friends

Moving out and living with roommates has been quite interesting.  As all three of us have strong personalities, so negotiating personality is sometimes difficult.  For the first month or so, I felt like this about the whole situation.  But now, after they've had their passive-aggressive tiff, I really can distinguish between who they are.

Friend One is my gay, male, and LOUD roommate.  He is trying to get a degree in one the sciences and has the smallest income and largest non-essentials expenditure of the three of us.  Friend One likes to be the center of attention and cuts people off or draws the attention back to him when they divert.  He has the potential to be catty and loves drama (and grabbing bums or humping people).  He likes to hang out with friends and forgets to do his chores regularly.

Friend Two is a really independent, socially conservative girl a year older than me.  She gets wrapped up in the idea of people rather than who they actually are.  However, most of the time she realizes that the does it.  Although she's pretty slow to anger, she will make your life a passive-aggressive  (or even just aggressive) hell if you cross the line.  Friend Two needs to be validated in whatever she does, which tends to translate into her moaning.to another person when said anger is happening.  However, she is really sweet (usually) and uber-conscious of group harmony.  Friend Two also has several insecurities that are big sore spots.

Since the Friends had their big de-Friending meltdown in a whirl of passive-aggressive post-it notes and ignoring each other on Facebook.  Friend Two has decided that we can be roomies (vs. roommates), which I am cool with - she's a genuinely nice chick.  The problem is that she thinks that she can say mean things about Friend One to me - and I get really uncomfortable.  Because she takes specific things really personal and Friend One really doesn't care/is oblivious to this, she gets REALLY hurt and angry at him but is unable to express it to him at all.  This leaves me in the role of friend-to-complain-to which is starting to bother me.  It feels like talking behind his back about him and I really don't like doing that sort of thing.

On the plus side, this new roomie situation has led to the cleaning out of the hoarding room.  Who knew that it was so easy to get rid of stuff?

WTF attractiveness

Recently, in one of my classes we've been analyzing the idea of having different selves.  The basic idea is that each person views themself differently than others view that same person.  To illustrate this, our teacher had us get 5 people to write us a list of 25 of our attributes.  Before looking at them, we wrote a list of all the things we thought that we were (ex.  I am loud.  I am quiet.  I am obnoxious.)  Then we compared the two.  For the most part, my analysis was pretty spot on - I am loud, talkative, intelligent, bossy, and generous.  However, I got hung up on one section of the lists - physical attractiveness.

Apparently, I am pretty cute.

I had no idea that anyone thought of me like that - I have always thought of my self as ugly, average, or, at best, a butterface.  So for the past week, I've been trying to figure out what I really look like.  I've been talking to Friend #2 (my female roommate), inviting friends over for late-night discussions, getting into shouting matches with my sister (afterwards we had a wonderful shopping day), and cutting my hair.  This has been a time of reflection - and of realization. 

Heck yeah, I am pretty.  So watch out world - I see it now.

To blog, you must have something to blog about

And I'm fresh out.  Sorry dudes!  MLIA, currently.  (except for work, but I dunno if I should post about that)

Done It List

• Make a boy (space) friend
• Pwn school
• Clean room
• Conquer laundry-doing
• Wash the dishes.
• Feed the cat
• Buy food for eating purposes
• Get card and monies for survival.
• Type up a textbook's worth of quotes

My life is Accomplished right now.  Yeah, I have things to do still, but I Did Things today, which means that I can feel happy and non-stressed.  Nothing can really spoil this sort of mood, not non-responsive friends, Friends One and Two (what I've decided to call my roommates), or the knowledge that tomorrow, like most Saturdays, is Passive-Aggressive Grandma Day.  Too bad, depressing thoughts, my Doing things means that you get to shoo.

Solitary

For the last few days, I've spent the majority of my time is spent by myself.

Which is awesome.

On Friday, after class, I spent the afternoon trying to locate my debit card, driver's license, and student ID.  When that failed, I went around and started canceling stuff.  I came home around five, ate (alone) and left to go to my parents' house.  There I did do some interaction - I talked to my grandparents and played  kicked ass at cribbage when I played with my dad, but as everyone goes to bed at 8-ish, I spent most of my evening in a quiet house.

On Saturday, I spent the day taking care of my Grandpa - changing his diaper, pushing his wheelchair, transferring him to bed, etc.  This doesn't count as socialization - he only needed me every few hours.  The other people in the house were my sister, who slept until 3 and my grandma who took a 3 hour nap after busying herself in the kitchen.  Mostly I was allowed to read and computer (this is a verb) as much as I wanted to without seeing anyone or having to talk to them.  When I came home that evening, neither one of my roommates were there - one was working and the other was "out".

Today, Sunday, I woke up and neither one of my roommates still were here - the one that works had a shift until 2 and the other one still hasn't come home.  When my female roommate came home from work, she said that she was tired and went to straight to bed.

No need to be polite or dress "appropriately".  Can read and get stuff done.  Can blast music.  Can do things how and when I want to do them. ...  I could get used to this sort of life.

Roommates

It seemed like a good idea at the time.

Two fairly responsible students with good reputations at school moved in with me.  Before the move, I had had classes with both of them, so I knew that we got along well.  The first time we congregated as a group, the chemistry worked well - they obviously knew each other well enough.and got on.  I anticipated that there would be some friendly hangout please-don't get-mad-at-me-and-spill-all-my-secrets initial time.  But mostly it was them being friends while being polite to me.

That is NOT my idea of a good time.

Now please understand - I am not frustrated because they get on well.  I am happy that they are so comfortable with each other.  My problem is that it feels like they are trying to flaunt their relationship in my face, the same way a brand-conscious chick lays her wrist so the Tiffany and Co. dangly bit just happens to face her bracelet-less frenemy.  For example, it is their habit to refer to each other as friend.  "Friend, can you get me a glass of water?"  While also annoying, this tends to become awkward because I am not one of the friends.  Teh Egotist, can you slice me some bread while Friend gets the jam?"

Asdfgh.

Does anyone have a hole I can bury my head in?

th3 r3sponsiblilty

During the summer I had a class that ran Monday-Thursday 7-12 in the morning.  I worked those same days from 1-9 pm.  I never want to do that again.  Ever.

Between that, seeing my friends, having a summer fling with th3 Goofball, cleaning out my grandmother's house, and moving in with some new roommates, I was a bit busy.  Or more than a bit.  And my Internet didn't work.

Am I excused?  Not really, but grovelling is boring so I won't be doing any.

Borderline Exhaustion

For the next 6 weeks, I am enrolled in summer school from 7-noon on Monday-Thursday.  I also have a job (so excited!) from 1-9-ish on those days.  This means that I am going to bed now - I need all the rest I can grab before tomorrow.

I promise a real post on Friday (or when I wake up after Thursday night - no telling how late that will be).  But I did want to tell people what was up - I didn't fall off of the face of earth, I just became Responsible with a Job. 

Sort of.

7 days left. Thank God.

I love my Grandma, I really do.  But I hate having to live with her.

This isn't something that has come on suddenly - I have had a problem with a lot of her habits for a while.  The last few days, however, have really clinched the matter.  Now I am actively campaigning for her removal to my parents house.  To God, if you exist, GET HER OUT OF HERE.  Please?

This week was pretty busy - I went looking for a job, watched a movie with friends, went camping, and helped my mom get ready for my sis's party.  Because of this, it was really easy for me to avoid cleaning up my grandmother's messes.  However, I made sure to sweep up the kitchen, rinse out the gunkier dishes and put out the trash.  When I left for the camping trip, I made sure to look around to make sure that the place was okay for a day or so.  It passed inspection, so I felt that I could leave her for a day or so.

When I returned a day later, I could not believe what had happened.  She had been cooking so much (and not cleaning up after) to the point that both sinks were completely full of dishes - the spigot was buried under pots and bowls.  Flies buzzed around on various foodstuffs that had been left out.  The floor was full of discarded bits vegetables and unidentifiable juices.  It was a mess.  Even my bathroom, which I had left immaculate was full of flies - to the point that I felt uncomfortable even using it.

And so, yesterday, after staying up  late with my friends and helping my mom clean her house and mow her lawn for my sister's party, I cleaned my grandmother's kitchen.  I worked until I was noticeably stumbling on my feet to make sure that the house was somewhat inhabitable.

This morning I woke up to find her making something intricate in the kitchen.  Without doing the dishes.  Again.

Sessy

My father, for as long I have remember, has had a special nickname for me when he was feeling particularly fatherly - Sessy, which is a shortened version of the longer (spelled here phonetically)  Ses-a-re-a-fil-a-pi.  I never really knew what this meant - just always accepted it as my nickname.

That is, until about a week ago.

I was bored and searching Google for random* sites.  On an impulse, I typed out how I thought my nickname was spelled - Sesareaphilipi.  No google hits.  I manipulated the spelling and finally Google suggested "Caesarea Philippi", an old Roman city.  According to Wikipedia, the site has some Christian significance as well as being a place where a whole bunch of dudes decided to name a city after themselves.  Now, as a fan of the random article button on Wikipedia, I was appreciative of the information.  But why does my Dad keep calling me that?  What relevance does this old, dead city have with me?

None, it turns out.

I asked my dad about it.  Apparently he just made it up - Sessarea-fill-a-pie.  I used to call myself Sessy (not sure why - it really has no real connection to my name).  He just expanded the name a bit.  And yes, he knew about the city - that's one of the reasons the nonsense nickname took that name.  All of that research and fuss over ... nothing.

Sound familiar?

* A note - the use of the word "random" is not intended to promote the idea that these searches were random in a statistical sense of the word.  To all statistics enthusiasts, please substitute the word for "different".

In which I didn't go on a date

On Tuesday, I was approached by a cute, twenty-something who asked for my number and a date.  As a grown-up, adult (and flattered) chick, I agreed and told him to call me.

Good, right?  A healthy dating life should happen at sometime.  And if the guy really wants to go out with me, then why not?

Because this is foreign territory.

I dunno how to handle a first date, especially unsolicited.  How does one act?  How does one dress?  Necessary precautions?  Protocol?  It is a bloody foreign world to be.

And that doesn't even address the whole having-an-ex-who-is-moping-because-I-am-recovering-faster-than he-is thing.  I don't want to hurt him, and if he found out somehow, he would be hurt.

And, because I had a conflict, I canceled.  The boy wasn't surprised - I guess he guessed when I didn't really interact with him from the start.  But I feel like an @&$)#*^ for leading him on.  It is sort of mean to give out the impression that I am available and not crazy when, well, I'm not.

Happiness

Usually, when I sit down to write, it's to prevent myself from going crazy with sadness, anger, loneliness, etc.  But today is different.  I had a wonderful day - and I'm not afraid to talk about it.

Last night, while recovering from the pain of essays and projects (18 pages worth, no less), I decided to have a hot bath.  With bubbles and music in the background.  When I went to sleep, I still had the soothing aura that such marvelous baths give.

I was able to sleep in until noon, in a gigantic and soft bed.  Then, I went over to my mom's house to help her move the heavier bits of furniture around.  We laughed, talked, and shared with each other. (The one regret I have about moving out is that I don't get to spend as much time with my mom.)

When I came back to my living quarters, I made birthday cards and headed out to my friends' birthday party.  Despite knowing only the birthday celebrants, I was able to have a fun time.  I played pool, hid from pictures, and generally was grateful that I had decided to show up.

So, thanks, person who controls such things.  I had a great day.
 

Blogs

For the lonely, depressed, passive-aggressive, or egotistic.

Why the fuck else would you blog?

Don't post that!

Recently, I was given a wake-up call.  Someone who I didn't know read this blog referenced something I wrote on here.

Hey, t3h egotist.  Guess what?  People read things that are left public.

When Facebook stalking is an accepted form of communication inconvenient blog reading is going to happen.  Who knows?  Perhaps even someday my grandmother will figure out how to turn on the Internet and use Google.  (Currently, she thinks that the computer is a great machine because it does all the card shuffling on Solitaire for her.)  As a blogger, I really should be careful what I put up here.  Because it really could be bad if the wrong person read the right post.

And yet, the whole point of making posts is to let out all the angry and lost-ness inside of me, so I don't spew it on my friends, or start dialing people at midnight when I get all lonely.  Self-censorship doesn't help that out. 

Effiminite dude? Totally gay.

When I first heard about Glee, I despised it on principle.  Stupid show with stupid drama - my conclusion was foregone.

But, with an obsessive pop-culture maven for a sister, I got hooked on the songs around the 8th episode. Not caring for the glitzy drama of the double-pregnancy issues, I would skip the shows and go straight to the songs.  Eventually, I got lazy and watched the whole episode.  The show was so stereotypical -  the Head Cheerleader, the Football Quarterback, the Black Girl, the Gay Guy, the Drama Queen/Geeky Girl, the Slut, the Dumb Blond, the Inspired Teacher, and the Nemesis - everyone has their predetermined role and personalities.  Even the guest stars are stuck in such rigidly defined roles - the three judges in "Sectionals" even had their stereotypes noted in the corner of the screen!

Ridiculous.

But after thinking about it, I have come to the conclusion that the writers of the show are either extremely brilliant or mediocre.  They use these archetypes so blatantly that it is impossible to ignore them.  Even the characters themselves refer to each other as the named archetype, not the character name (ie. "Mercedes is black and I'm gay, together we make culture").  This sort of in-your-face assumption forces viewers to admit to the assumptions that we pick up in society.  If you are a specific race, personality, talent, or even the right haircut, you will be labeled as something.  Glee, intentionally or not, has brought the hidden assumptions back to the forefront of our contiousnesses.

At least, when we are not singing along to the songs.

Just do it.

I just turned in a not-very-good essay to my English professor.  It has been the main stress in my life for the past few days.  All I can say now is thank goodness is that it is over - even if it wasn't that good, it's over.

Perhaps the end of the school year is presenting the same emotions for everyone else, but I have shut down what dreaming portions existed in my brain to "Just do it".  Need to do a speech for class?  No fancy Powerpoint, just do the dang speech.  Essay on femeinist thought?  Wikipedia totally counts as a source.  Math homework?  As long as it is turned in eventually...

I think that this has become my coping mechanism.  So many things have gone AWOL in my life, that I have don't really have the mental abilities to go above and beyond the expectations presented to me.  If it is on my list it will get done. 

How well?  Wait and see.

Parody of "Oh, Gravity"

This came out a lot more Emo than I expected it to.  But then, it's been one hell of a month.

Don't be analyzing this for anything more than "Oh, wow.  Th3 egotist rhymed things.  And made syllables work".  It isn't intended as anything more than an excuse for procrastination.

"Oh, Sanity"

There's a fracture in the two minds
In the lab-top world of Online.
By Facebook where the status might
Keep you company 'til the next night

In a different town, there's the same scar
In the same glow of Online afar
By the mute cell, where it might
Keep her company 'til the next night

Oh! Sanity.
Why can't we seem to keep it together?
Run away from me,
Why can't we seem to keep it together?

In the back room of the Pentagon
There's a red phone with a sign drawn
With a loud noise and a loud light
Watch the headline on the next night



Oh! Sanity.
Why can't we seem to keep it together?
Run away from me,
Why can't we seem to keep it together?

Why this tragedy?
Why can't we seem to keep it together?

Oh! Sanity.
Why can't we seem to keep it together?

In the fallout, the fallout
We found out the hype won't get you through
We're connected, connected
Now offline, the hype won't get you through

Oh! Sanity.
Why can't we seem to keep it together?
Run away from me,
Why can't we seem to keep it together?

Why this tragedy?
Why can't we seem to put it together?
Oh! Sanity.
Why can't we seem to put it together?

I need a mental health vacation.

My life has been a big ball of stress for the past few days - I can't wait until this bit of my life is over.

Yesterday, I went to my usual meetings and class after my usual sleep-deprived Wednesday routine.  My sister wanted to be picked up from school (cramps) and so I went directly there after finishing my school obligations.  After picking her up, I remembered that I needed to drop off some walkers at my grandfather's convalescent home.  She agreed to sit in the car while I ran the errand.  On our way home from all of that, I got into a car accident.  And not just any-old-car-accident, either.

I hit a cop.

A cop!  For my first accident, I guess I had to go the whole way, right?  Long story short, six cops showed up to mill around, while my sis and I discovered that our car's plastic bottom bit was dragging on the ground.  She is now on crutches and I have whiplash and no car.

Today was the day my grandfather came home.  This meant that I needed to leave school early to pick him up from the home.  Because I stayed up cleaning the kitchen until midnight last night to get ready for his arrival, I was exhausted and barely finished my  homework in time for class.  I drove my grandfather home and mentally collapsed (physically, though, I had to keep going).  Eventually, I managed to collapse on my bed.  I could hear the battle sounds of both of my grandparents' televisions vying for the position of alpha noise-maker, and, later, my grandpa making wet cough noises that made me nauseous.

I hate being here, in this place.  I want to hang out with my friends, sharing stories and laughing.  I want to want to do something, and not just be obligated to.  I want to stop needing, and I want to need more.  I want.

But will I get?

Probably not.

...

I did not and probably will not do any of the things on my list today.  However, something occured to me that I've been thinking about for the past few days.

I've haven't been this hormonal since I was in puberty.

No wonder my debate partner keeps mentally slapping me upside my brain; I have become hysterical within my life.  I even giggle.  This is ridiculous. I cry at everything, even minor good things, like the essay I got a 90% on or a funny joke someone told.  My moods have become more dramatic, more intense. 

But why?  I have a few different hypothesis.  I just broke up with th3 goofball.  This is the first time I have not been chasing/chased by a boy or going out with a boy since my freshman year of high school - quite a long time ago.  I am not that person anymore.  It is possible that the sudden jolt out of having someone is affecting my body and hormones.  Another possibility is that I have repressed my emotions to some extent in order to take care of those around me (including my boyfriend).  Without anyone to take care of, I have had to start to actually managing my emotions.

That's scary.  No wonder I've been so focused on AB.

I'm not sure why I've started to become more emotional.  Armchair therapists?  I choose you.
(Because I dislike this whole crying jag.)

Wear something lowcut to school.

Today's mission was to wear something revealing (and therefore out of my comfort zone).  For the past few years, as th3 Goofball's girlfriend, I did not really wear anything risque; I didn't feel like I needed to and he is not comfortable with excess effeminate behavior.  Time to change all that.  For today's experiment, I put on a spaghetti-strap button-down shirt with some leggings and did not let myself put on my coat during any social interactions. 

Boys.

Apparently they like cleavage.  Or being talked to.  Because today I hung out with many, many dudes.

I started my day in my math class.  Despite being dead (math in the morning: not a good idea), I was still able to have a decent conversation with a couple other students.  After class, I met up with the shy-but-smart-and-cute guy that sits next to me.  He initiated the conversation - and smiled at me.  We had a decent conversation before parting.

I then hung out in the lounge before class with a few of my (male) friends and acquaintances.  We argued about politics and the current Arizona immigration policy.  I won, insofar that that such a thing is possible.  After that, I went to my English class, where we listened to a vaguely interesting lecture on how to use search engines.  (Because no one knows how to Google).   But after class, three of the guys and I walked out and started to chat.  I had never talked really talked to two of them, but we had a good conversation. 

If you hadn't noticed, the continual theme is that I had interesting conversations with boys, dudes, and men.  I am not sure if this was because of the lowcut shirt, or my non-stressed smiling self, but I am glad that I have had such a wonderful day thus far - I can't wait to see what the afternoon brings for me!

Mental Sanity - no more, A.B.

The aforementioned friend that I had found to argue with is *confession time* is both cute and single.  However, chasing him around isn't exactly conducive to a healthy mental process.  So I have created a list of things to accomplish instead of sitting around fighting the urge to text the Argumentative Boy.

Healthy single life, here I come!

• Be flexible.
• Sing
• Turn up the music in the car and dance to it.
• Wear something lowcut to school.
• Foot soak.
• Eat enough sour candies to make myself visibly sated/sick.
• Blog about each activity on here - post at least once a week.
• Movie Star Day - do Audrey Hepburn.
• Contact someone out of the blue.
• Kidnap a friend for the day.
• Make a list that shows everything I own.
• Wear a cape for the day.
• Make/cook something labor-intensive.
• Smile at everyone I see for a day.
• Purge my wardrobe. Again.
• Find a job.
• Go skinny-dipping.
• Leave a letter in a library book.
• Pay attention in class (with notes) for a whole day.
• Leave a crazy message on somebody's voicemail.
• Picnic!
• Hike to the top of Blue Mountain.  Stop at my old make-out spot.
• Agree to do something risque or crazy.
• Scavenger Hunt

Girl's Night!

As the FC crowd already heard, I had a girl's night at my house.  This has been a solution that had been rattling around in my head for a while - what with breaking up with the former love-of-my-life and becoming seriously attracted to another, who although technically single, is about as available to me as Barack Obama is to the head of the Birther movement, having a grandpa committed to a facility rehab, a depressed grandmother who keeps buying mountains of food, and needing to find a job and place to stay by July.  In other words, I needed some time to become emotionally reattached.

And sane.

Another pressing concern was cute-ness. Since I have become single, I have tried to wear clothes that flatter me more.  Jeans and t-shirts just don't cut it.  So last night, when my friends were here, we had a clothes swap - and I got a few new outfits to wear.  The rest we delivered to Goodwill - and, with the new space available in our respective closets, we went shopping there as well.  It was much fun - even for the girls that were not interested in the concept of shopping to begin with.

The bonding that took place was good - I was not sure that the two groups of girls that I invited would mesh.  But they did that well.  Everyone was nice to each other and more importantly, not awkward.  The stories each person told, of failed romance, of relationships, of goofiness, of themselves were so important - and I think, at some level, healing.  Because we had all been there, we could console each others' pain - and rejoice in their triumphs over the communal guacamole.  For those few hours we shared a bond that was real, regardless of external pressures and the stranger factor.

Girl's Night made it all better.

(So thanks - and I promise to stop sounding so cheesy.  Because that was pretty cheddar-esque).

Que he hacido (or what I have done).

With the end of the forensics season - and not having a long-distance relationship anymore - I have suddenly found loads of spare time with which I can do things.  This has been problematic, as it means that I have had time to brood and be moody at people (re: read the rest of my blog).  However, it also means that I now have time to figure out what needs to be figured out.  I have been doing new things to try to find out what I like to do as a single person, as me.

• Clubbing.  I went and re-discovered that I dislike dancing at dances/clubs.  I don't really know how to and what I do remember (from the 8th grade, mind you) strikes me as so very mechanical.  People pick 3 basic moves that they can preform adequately and repeat them.  All night.  They also enjoy trying to rub themselves on other people in order to raise their overall image in the eyes of people not involved in the direct process.  So silly.  Also, the club that we went to had music that I didn't know, which doesn't help break the monotony.

• I found someone to argue with. This is amazing.  I didn't realize how much I missed having to defend my own position on something - usually I am on the attack or am not allowed to argue.  So meeting a friend who has similar interests and wants to argue made my day whole month.  This is probably the reason I talked about him to everybody.

 

• As a single chick, I am back into the precarious position of proving to society that I am ssocially capable.  While with th3 goofball, I did not need to prove that I was cute - I already had someone.  But now, even though I have no intention of having a boyfriend, I have a compulsive need to show that I am attractive.  This has resulted in the wearing of necklaces.  And a strange desire to go shopping for clothes.  Cute clothes - including a sun dress.  I have also stopped wearing ponytails everywhere. (I am a headband person now.)

•  Concentration on schoolwork.  While the drama of being in forensic tournament month and being the source of relationship angst and eventual breakup happened, I wasn't able to concentrate on my schoolwork - too many other things were happening in my head.  But now that school has started, and I am unable to be moody full time, I am actually doing better, and am only procrastinating at my normal levels.

Boredom: the sob story

Being single is about being bored.

At least it is so far.  I just broke up with my best friend.  Because th3 Goofball was always there, I didn't really feel the need to go out and make new friends.  Besides, with the time set aside for relationship maintenance, forensics, homework, home work, and actual school, I really didn't have time to go out and make new friends.  So I didn't.

And now I am really feeling the other end of that decision. I am really bored and moody, due to recent events - and I have few people to talk to.  It got so bad for a while that I tried to have an emotional talk with my grandma (Disclaimer: I genuinely enjoy my grandmother's company.  However, her advice and support are not really useful, as she is bound to make archaic and tactless judgments).  I am seriously lonely in my new, single state.  Because I am not feeling the love anymore.

Adjustments

I hate ambiguity with a passion.  I love knowing where I stand, in what categories, with what rules.  So this being single thing is hard.  I don't know the rules, the customs, anything.  I mean, the last time I was single, I was just starting my junior year of high school.  I am not that girl anymore - even I can tell that I have changed.

The next couple of weeks will be interesting, to say the least.  I can only hope to be up to the challenge.

It is finished.

Guilty as charged.

I had fun today.

My sister was tired of my moping and needed someone to drive her around (Senior Ditch Day apparently matters to high school seniors - whodathunk?).  I was elected to be her chauffeur and companion around her favorite amusement park.  I was, under no circumstances, allowed to ruin her fun time by skulking around.  She was there to have fun, by golly, and so would I.

And I did.

She and I had an amazing morning.  The wait times for rides were startlingly low - we didn't wait more than 15 minutes for any ride, even the most popular ones.  After finishing the rides that we wanted to go on (usually an all day task) by mid-morning we amused ourselves by taking fun and funny pictures and by shopping.  Although we usually have a love-to-hate relationship, we didn't have single argument all day, an occurrence so rare, I can't remember the last time it happened.  When I had to leave, I was genuinely sorry to go; I wanted to spend more time with her.

And yet I feel guilty.  Somewhere out there camping is th3 goofball, who was just informed that his long-term girlfriend doesn't love him anymore.  He's probably off stewing,trying to figure out how to "fix" the situation.  Not having fun, on a trip that was supposed to be about having fun with his friends.

And I didn't think about him/the situation/our relationship all day.  It wasn't even on the back of my mind.  In fact, the only time I really think about it is when I talk to him; the rest of the time I just feel guilty for not feeling anything else.

I think this is one of the reasons I want to end our relationship - being able to even think about maintaining our relationship is going to take work and commitment that I don't think that I will give.  If, in the bit that is supposed to be all about despair and chaos and woe I am having fun and ignoring the problem, then I am not equipped to even think about repairing the gap in our relationship, if in fact that is what it is.

I think that I want to walk away.  And that makes me feel guilty.

Bad Week

Ah, Spring Break.  So full of potential nothing time wherein no requirements exist.

What a load of crap.

• Chores.  They exist.  Personal chores, chores for my grandma, and chores for my mom.  And, since it is Spring Break and I have nothing else to do... *hint* take my sis places as well.
• 
  
• Sleep.  This was missing in vast quantities during Nationals.  As I was in a competition room, nap potential was wayyyy down.  After the tournament, I kept talking to people.  This did not help my yen for a good, solid nap.  I am finally starting to catch-up on sleep.  Thank God.
• 
  
• Relationships.  While I was at Nationals, I came to an unwelcome realization.  I am not in love with th3 Goofball.  I used to be, but I am not anymore.  This sucks, because I have a ton of respect for him and want him to be genuinely happy.  In addition, he's still in love with me.  I feel really guilty for doing this, but I think it would be unfair to him otherwise.  I also really don't want to be stuck in a love-less relationship.  Or a one-ended love relationship.  So I think that I made the right choice in telling him.  But that doesn't make hearing him cry while saying "I love you" any less hard to hear.  I just want him to be okay - and I don't think that's going to happen for a while.  And I can't do anything about it.  Which more than sucks.
• 
  
• Rectal bleeding.  My grandfather has it.  He's in the hospital and is doing better.  But still bleeding from his butt.  Which reminds me; I need to quit writing and post, so I can go clean up his messes.

This post has been quite negative, because, well, this week has been crappy.  Hopefully next week has better news.  Or stories of an amusing nature.

Hypocrites, or, alternately, fuck, I'm tired

I was originally going to do a post on Palm Sunday and what I associate with it. (Hypocrite Day - the day we celebrate Jesus' awesomeness before advocating his murder 5 days later.)  This was going to segway into a bit about our society is fickle.  I was going then raise some interesting, yet provocative questions about Life and Western Society.  But my feet hurt, so I am going to complain at the Internets instead.

Which says something about Western Society (or my place in it, anyway)....

This weekend has been rough.  Because Spring Break is coming up, a lot of projects are coming due.  These projects incur lots of stress and anxiety.  Which sucks.  In any case, I did not compete this weekend, so, on Friday, I was looking forward to my first non-competition weekend in a while.

Hah.

On Friday evening, I was asked to baby-sit on Saturday for most of the day.  I agreed, because I like the family and the little kid is quite cute.  But it did mean that I needed to be up early-ish in the morning.  On Saturday, I learned that two year olds have boundless energy.  We went for a walk, played catch, played soccer, swung, played catch, kicked a ball, played catch, and played some variant of monster/tag/you-can't catch-me.  In addition, we watched Dora the Explorer, Wall-E, and about 5 minutes of Looney Tunes.  Now, this kid is cute, and generally well behaved but he was channeling the Energizer Bunny; when I left, at one, he still wasn't ready for a nap. (I was.)

But it was not to be.  My parents hosted a birthday party for my uncle in the afternoon.  After I left my babysitting job, I went to help them get ready.  I was there until 8-ish at night.  When I came back to my grand-ma's I was confronted with a disaster of a kitchen.  My grandma had been cooking, but not cleaning up.  So, with determination, I put away groceries, loaded up the dishwasher and swept the floor, intending to do more today.  I then collapsed on my bed, called th3 Goofball and promptly fell asleep.

At 5 o'clock in the morning, my grandmother woke me up - my grandpa had fallen and needed my help to get up.  My grandmother hovered around anxiously, getting in the way, and running over my foot with his wheelchair, while I shoved at him, in multiple attempts, so he could get up - and I could go back to bed (I still wasn't fully awake).  Finally, he got  up, and I patched up his bleeding elbow, cleaned up the blood, and cleaned the blood off the rag.  I collapsed in my bed.  Three hours later, I woke up, got ready and drove my sister to church.  We were late.  Because I also had to attend a practice speech and debate session for Nationals, I had to leave early as well. (This was also the first time I have been able to attend church in a month).  After that, I hurried over to the practice.  According to the schedule, we were supposed to be out by 2. 

Sweet! I was excited - I had only brought a nice outfit - with high heels.  I was not looking forward to wearing that for any length of time.  In addition, I was tired and had homework to do - the afternoon looked to be wonderful.

And then someone was an hour late to practice and one of the advisers took two hours per piece. I finally got to go home at six, after eating a burrito at Chipolte's. 

When I came home, I was freaking exhausted and ready to kick off my heels.  However, my sister needed help moving boxes in the garage, my grandma needed help in the kitchen, and my grandpa navigation assistance in his wheelchair - all before I could even set my bag and papers down, much less change or relax.  I then had to assist in various chores for an hour - while noting that my work the night before in clearing the dishes had been completely erased - it was as if it had never happened.

ARGHHHH!!!

I need to de-stress.  Or have an extra day on my weekend.

I'm baaaack....

Just like the creepy dude that hits on every girl in the vicinity.  Yeah, that one.

My month long absence has been determined by a few factors.

First, busyness.  It is really hard to justify writing blog posts that no one reads instead of, say, sweeping dirty floors and doing English essays.

Second, dead batteries.  My power cord died, leaving me to the mercy of a 2 hour battery and school computers.  Oh, Internets, how I have missed thee.

Finally, speech tournaments.  They are much fun, but leave no time for lazing about in underwear and blogging.  Instead, I had to get professionally dressed with makeup on to give speeches so people could listen to me talking.  And applaud me.

There was much applauding.

So you can see how much I have been suffering. (i.e. not at all).

The woe of the American Identity

I attended my first college English class last Wednesday.   We are to be addressing the question of the American Identity all semester long.  Who is American?  What is American?  What sort of qualities are American?  What do we do about being American? 

Annoying much?

As far as I'm concerned, you are American if you accept the label.  And since the word "American" has different connotations for everybody, trying to define the Identity of an American is futile.

Manifest Destiny, Sins of our Fathers. American Dream. Meritocracy. Democracy. Vietnam.  Imperialism.  Of the people, by the people, and for the people. Monroe Doctrine.

All of those words and phrases can be associated directly with America.  But are they America?

Does anyone even care?

We kicked ass. Sort of.

My partner and I broke at this weekend's tournament.  If I hadn't messed up the final round, we might have gone to win the whole thing.  C'est la vie.  But, even without that, we didn't do to shabby, with my partner winning 8th in speaker points and me winning 1st.   (Speaker points are measured in how well a person spoke.  Yes, it is possible to win a round but have low speaks or vice versa.)

I've been really tired and lonely lately.  Having a two day tournament and Valentine's day didn't help.  It would be different if th3 Goofball lived closer, but celebrating a day of love with a boyfriend who lives 800 miles away doesn't really help.  Especially when video feeds are acting shabby.

I have also been losing weight, according to my mom.  Both she and my grandma are fussing.  I am not sure this weight loss is a good thing, as I already fit into my skinniest clothes.  If this keeps going, I will have to invest in safety pins.

I think that this is because I keep forgetting to eat.  Some things are more important than regular meals, like updating schedules polishing doorknobs and anything else that touches one of my sensitive obsessive nerves.

That sounds like I have an eating disorder.  I want to go google them now instead of finding lunch.

Dipped toes and cannonballs: Debate edition

Excited. Nervous. Filled with trepidation.

All accurate descriptions of what my emotional state was before the parliamentary debate tournament on Saturday.  Although I did this sort of debate in high school, the comparison between the two is comparable to the difference between an original Ford Model T and a 2010 Lamborghini.  The fundamentals are the same, but so many things are changed in translation.

Like country of origin and doors.

In high school, sophisticated debate is when both teams manage to fill their times, stay on topic, and refrain from name-calling during round.  Solvency, inherency, topicality, kritik, plans, debate theory, or even what sort of debate the topic dealt with (policy, value, fact) has very little play into a typical high school round.  For one, many competitiors haven't reached that level of maturity/logic.  For another, the judging pool tends to be made of parents, bus drivers, and people off the street - a group that, while they may understand logical and rational argumentation, generally is unfamiliar with competitive vernacular, especially if students are spreading (speaking waaay faster than normal speeds).

In college, this all changes. 

Judging pools tend to be full of debate coaches and former competitiors.  Students tend to be more mature and are held to a higher standard (and get Internet during their preparations).  This all adds up to making parli, to use a collequialism, "OMG-super-freaking-holy-crud-on a stick-difficult-hard".

So nervous-ness?  To be expected - especially since I had a partner even more green than me and only 2 half-practice sessions to refresh me/gain an idea of what my partner's and my strengths and weakness were. 

First round: Our disjointed-ness showed.  I was PM (the prime minister or head speaker) and sucked quite badly at both of my speeches.  I was uncertain and gave up control of the round almost instantaneously.  My partner, the MP did quite well in defending ground in her speech, but that was exactly it.  We defended, not attacked.  We lost.

Second round: The topic was heavily skewed negative - the side that we had.  I acted as the LO (Leader of the Oppisition or the other side's head speaker), but dominated the speech.  This may have had to do with my confidence on the resolve, the general lack of confidence of the other team, and my practice within the first debate.  I was  choppy, but looked - and felt- as if I knew what I was doing.  Due to our burden's press argument (arguing that the other team needed to prove that their argument was based on facts - which they couldn't), we won.

Third round: The other team flipped the resolution around so instead of arguing against "The Estate Tax is Unfair", we argued against "The Estate Tax is Unfair (because it is too low)".  We did a decent job of refuting their points - not brilliant, but for not being mentally prepped for such a turn, we did alright.  One of the most interesting things about this round was that our judge was a 3rd year law student going into tax law.  We were careful not to get into a factual debate, but just hit values (it was "unfair" to those that created their wills to take the money from those that they intended to give it to and hand it over to the government).  Due to our defeat of their points - and a fumbled last speech by the PM - we won.

Fourth round: This was a fun round, but ultimately was lost due to a confused definition.  I also did a bad job allocating time in my last speech as PM.  Essentially, we won all of the arguments except for the one that the judge decided on.

I feel much better about college parli now - especially since my partner and I are both ambitious and want to do better.  In addition, most of the stuff that we lost at was due to the unfamiliarity of different terms and speech roles.  My partner needs to work on organization, while I need to work on trusting my partner - in high school, I never had a partner long enough to where I could relax and start to trust their competency - especially when I had newbies as partners.  I just hope that I can relax to the point where I can start to do that with her.  Y'all will know when that point is because my blog post will be entitled "We kicked ass".

Oy vey

I was planning on doing a blog post about my current living space, but then I recieved a call that I have to go pick up my dad.

So this is all that you get.

Th3 fl4w.

At my college, our winter break lasts from the middle of December to the middle of February so a 6 week Winter Session can happen.  For those skipping Winter, the two month vacation is pretty awesome.  However, for those enrolled, you only get the two weeks surrounding Christmas and New Years off.

Which stinks.

In order to boost my total number of credits, and to pad my GPA, I decided to take two classes that should be a piece of some sort of confectionary delight. Theoretically, I should need to just show up to class, endure the lectures, and collect my A's.

Simple, right?

The problem is that this session is 1/3 the size of a regular session.  So a class that would normally be 1.5 hours two times a week is 2.25 hours FOUR times a week.  Needless to say, this is a problem, especially in classes that aren't all that interesting. 

I am in class for 3 hours on Monday and 7 hours on Tuesday - Thursday (ending at 10pm) for classes I don't need and aren't interested in. 

I'm a great planner, I am.

On the move?

My mother asked me a few days ago if I would move in with my grandparents - they are getting too old to live in their house without serious help.  My grandfather cannot walk and has to get help to move from his wheelchair and his bed (which are the only two places he really goes.)  My grandmother cannot lift her arms above her shoulders - and she's 5'1''.   Both fall on a semi-regular basis.  They should probably move into an apartment designed for seniors, but, due to some unwise decisions and a reverse mortgage, they cannot afford to move out.  Both my mother and my uncle go over and spend time helping them get their house decent - my mom did 2+ hours worth of dishes last Sunday - but I am not sure if that is enough. At the same time, I am not sure if I want to live there.  As I'd be a free boarder, I'd be expected to go and help out - a lot.  I'm not sure if I will have the time, what with the 2-3 honors classes I'm planning on taking and (hopefully) a job come spring.  The other issue is that I would need to adjust my standards for both food and hygiene.  I've never had to cope with moldy bread or rotten vegetables to any great extent.  These are the norm at my grandparent's house.

Conclusion: They definitely need help, but I'm not sure if I'm the one that can give it.