Baby, you're a firework.

I have absolutely noooo motivation for finals. Thus a blog post. Well, that and it's been weeks (AGAIN!)

Yep, within a mere 8 days, I will be finished will my fall semester. Crazy, but good heavens it couldn't come sooner. Seriously, I thought this semester would be my downfall, the reason I end up in a crazy bin, but then poof, it's over. Gotta love college and the way it's continuously surprising you...

Whatever, I'm so over talking about it all and it hasn't even started. I'm basically the one person who has a final on the last day possible to take them and I have to take one in almost ever class. Woohoo...I luckily am fairly confident that if I get all the studying done I need to do I might actually come out from this insane few months with some pretty decent grades to show. At least, that's what my crossed fingers keep telling me.

Golly, okay the real reason I wanted to post, before all this finals talk. It's something that's been on my mind for awhile and I just wrote a blog about how happy I am. Seriously, I am so freakin good with this life I've got. However, me being me, I'm starting to feel odd about it. A few days ago, I got coffee with a friend of mine who I haven't seen in awhile and he totally dumped all over me with his problems. He has recently decided to do a 180 on what he wants to do with his life but still has no idea what to do with himself now. Basically, he's lost. At first, I felt for him, really. I couldn't imagine doing that and not knowing what I was going to do with my life at all. Then I got a little irritated.

To me, happiness is a choice, your life is a choice. You can choose to wallow, to be lost or you can pick yourself up, get some dang perspective and move on. Well, I tried to relay that to my friend with somewhat disastrous results, but I still think he actually heard me. Of course the real irony of this is sometimes it's really hard for me to follow this advice myself, as is my custom. But the bottom line is that I KNOW that everyone is capable of making a good life for themselves. It might take some time, days or even years, but we are just so adept as a race at turning situations around and yet so often we choose to just lay down and take it. So I get irritated when people I know decide to do that when I am so sure they know better.

Anyway, the real moral of this story that I keep going back to is that I am so dang lucky to be so happy. Yes there are some really down days or even weeks, but who doesn't have that. I have learned to just process it, whatever it is, and just go back to my normal, pretty darn happy self. I'm glad to have that.

Sorry if this post was a little bleh, but my brain is a little fried and panicky due to all the massive amounts of work I have to accomplish over the next few days. Anyway, that's all for now, folks.

P.S. You're a big part of why I'm happy.

Tryin' to Find A Balance

It's so funny whenever I get a spare few hours of free time in which no studying needs to be done or any of that, I'm so excited that I fill it with tasks until I'm back to being stressed out. Oy, oh well.

So a few days, I got into this in depth conversation with my best friend/roommate about something that's been nagging at me for awhile, concerning her boyfriend. To put it plainly to my readers, she spends an obnoxious amount of time with him, while her friends, classes, and even parents are left to the wayside. Which is okay, most of the time, because it's her first "love" and she's supposed to be all wrapped up in it, but I felt the need to say something, because well, that's what I do. It turned out okay, but entirely too emotional. Like, when I talked to my eldest sister later, I just sobbed and sobbed because of all the bottled up emotions I had left. However, we both really said things we needed to say and she needed to hear. My main motif of the talk was that she needs to find a balance of all things. And step off, she listened to me and did just that. Of course, it will be interesting to see how it sticks, but there you go.

Anyway, I've lingered on this thought of balance for a long time. I feel like it's so taboo, one of those things that people forget to tell as you grown up. It seems so simple, yet wow, impossible too. It's definitely something I've struggled with these past few months. School, church, my family, friends, babysitting as much as I can get, and just going going going to get it all done. I was on the phone with my friend Anjli earlier, and I was surprised to hear myself say the words "burned out" with this semester. I've always scorned college kids who say they're so burned out by school, because for a long time, school was no big deal, but here I am: burned to a crisp. Of course, for me it's a cumulative effort by everything in my life demanding my attention, so I'll give myself a freebie (cue the comment by Melanie about how I don't even know).

But it goes beyond that. Trying to find a balance with everything. Fun with work, relaxation with stress, not going months without hanging out with certain friends, and enjoying school while still working my butt off. The weirdest part is, right before I am so certain I am drowning, I remember I can swim and pull my head above water. By deep breaths, by praying, by reading for ten minutes, I do what I can to keep level so I don't spin out of control. So far, it's worked.

Life is good right now. And, dare I say it, my life has almost always been good, despite many of my teenage years screaming in protest. I've had many blessings, not too many hardships, and a rather happy existence. Of course there are day to day conflicts and stresses that can sometimes seem too much for any one person, but so what? Everyone has that. I have parents who, really, I would be lost without, sisters whom I adore, straight up, friends who I trust and love, and a downright decent lifestyle. But of course, the scales in my head have me worried. Since I've had a pretty easy time, I am just so sure that such hardships are coming up. I mean it, I'm talking the worst anyone has ever seen are so surely in my path. Luckily, I come up for air soon after having these thoughts and realize that a) this is unlikely and b) even if it is, golly I just know I can get through it. I just do. I have too much on my side for anything to really get me. So it's okay. Bring it on, world.

Anyway, my advice to Veronica was balance. Soon after, I realized it's my advice for everyone. When it tips too far to the wrong side, give it a good ole shove, pick yourself up and remember, So What? People have weathered so much worse and likely, so have you. It's okay.

The Occasion

Today is Emma Rose Logue's 21st birthday. I'm not going to tell her I wrote this blog about her, wait and see how long it takes her to find it.


I don't know if you guys know Emma, but let me tell you, she is a blessing and a half. Seriously, the world would be a dim and dark place without her. Well, my world at least. She is one of my best friends and can make me laugh, cry and praise God faster than anyone I know. As most of my friends pass this landmark of a birthday, I am still shocked by it. It seems like just yesterday I was counting down the years (yes, years) to when I turned 16, but now all my friends are turning 21? The last birthday that people actually look forward to celebrating? Yikes. But as the partner in crime, of the Emma Squared group quickly passes by this birthday, I am, to say the least confident.

I'm going to expand, most likely to Ms. Emma's chagrin. It's more than supporting her, which I would do anyway. I supported her when she wanted to go to Africa. I supported her when she went to Bible College. And as she assuredly heads towards this next phase of her life, I just know, KNOW that she'll rock this party. No lie. Oh, she'll have drama, she'll have tears, she'll have blessings and prayers, but no worries, she'll have the happiest days most people could ever imagine. Which is why, as this day turns into night and I keep glancing at the clock until I get to leave to meet her for a birthday dinner, the first in two years, I am confident, sanguine, and imperturbable about this wonderful and exciting and beautiful and close-as-you-can-get-to-perfect best friend of mine. No matter what.

Happy birthday, darling friend. I do love you so very much.

Le Sigh

Yep. A complaining one. I fully give you permission to skip reading this one, as it will undoubtedly be whiny as all get out.

Anywho.

So I am taking a brief hiatus from the studying I've been doing for hours and hours to write a short blog post. Mostly because I am sick of studying, but also so I can complain.

Something that has recently (like, as of Halloween-ish time) has come to my attention. I think I might be...lonely... Now I say that with reservations as it is a moment to moment changing thing and just kind of comes out of nowhere, only to leave just as quickly as it came. Let me break it down for you.

This Halloween I didn't make any plans whatsoever because a) lame, it was on a Sunday and b) I had a ton of studying to do. But whenever Halloween afternoon came around, I found myself completely alone in my apartment, my books and papers untouched and really just wasting time. I was so...bored and restless that I couldn't sit still to do anything except menial tasks that I didn't really want to do (laundry, showering, cleaning). Then, when I finally sat down to start studying, I was hit with it: loneliness. I hadn't talked to anyone for a few hours, and kept seeing everyone's cool plans on facebook and twitter. I was so sad I didn't have anyone to be with on this stupid holiday that all I could do was stare at my phone, willing for it to ring or beep from someone, anyone. Then I sort of came to and called my mom, simply to find out what she was doing that night for Halloween. All it took was a simple "Come home!" from her, and I was in my car, guiltily bringing my books with me to "study."

Now, sure, that looks a lot like boredom, but really I was just so smacked in the face with the fact that I am technically very alone ( I mean this relationship-wise) and honestly, this is a first for me.

I love not having a boyfriend or dating-guy or really, a crush, since whenever I have anything like that, I am so eager to get out of it. Seriously, I think there might be something wrong with me. I LOVE being alone, having no one to answer to (besides my mom and I guess myself) and doing whatever I want whenever I want. I always have, I think because when I was growing up, there was always someone around, so it was a rare, cherished moment to be alone. When I first got to college, I had roommates who were always around or friends over, so still, alone time was my absolute favorite. But now...I am alone, a lot.

Like today, basically since 9 a.m., I have been alone, because I have been studying for these two huge tests I have tomorrow and Thursday. Which, really was fine. It was just that every once and awhile, I'd get this gut-wrenching, slap in the face with loneliness.

Honestly, I think it's only because it's a first for me, really. Like I said, I love love love my alone time, and for now, wouldn't want it any other way. I have had too many friends get into serious relationships and not be ready for them, and I do not want that in any way. It's almost nice, because it means that sooner rather than later, I'll be ready to be in an actual relationship. Yikes, okay.

Sorry, my brain is more than a bit fried, thanks to professors being jerks and assigning tests at the same time. It's just odd for me to be lonely, since I always prided myself on being able to be alone and perfectly happy. Sigh, I suppose it's just a part of growing up? Well, time to get back to endless anthropology notes and communication flashcards. Thanks to those (mom) who took the time to read!


P.S. Don't worry, you fix the whole lonely thing for me.

Dang it!

I did it again! Nearly three weeks and nothin' on the blog. Oh, well, away we go.


So I don't think I've mentioned it on this yet, but I don't like one of my roommates. Like, really don't like her. She's rude and inconsiderate, messy and defensive about her mess. Basically, she's the dictionary definition of a bad roommate. About a month after we moved into our apartment, she and I had.it.out. Serious confrontation. She had gone into my room when I was at church to turn off my lamp without my permission, after I had asked all my roommates to please ask before going in when I'm not here. So I got snippy and told her that was not okay by me and to not do it again. A few hours later, I'm in the kitchen and she comes in and starts yelling at me about so much conflict she's had with me so I calmly and somewhat coolly address all her complaints. Since then, it hasn't necessarily been smooth sailing, but it's been better and I find she annoys me less.

My other two roommates on the other hand, HATE her, with a somewhat intense passion. She does treat them differently than she treats me, mostly because I think she's afraid of me and because I addressed our conflict early on. Yeah, she's still super obnoxious and downright intrusive at times (she's a knocker-and-walker, even on my bathroom...) But still, I have a lot of patience with her because I mostly think of her as an immature child that simply needs a little bit of guidance. However, my two roommates, whom I really love, cannot stand her and can't wait to get out of this apartment. So whenever they are complaining about her, I find myself sort of defending her, saying she's not that bad, it's just who she is and then they give me funny faces and keep on venting.

I've noticed this is sort of my habit. I am an empathizer to the max. I can feel bad for just about anyone, regardless of how they act towards me. I can see any opposite side of the argument, almost to a fault. It goes beyond being compassionate, I genuinely carry people's sadness with me. It's honestly why I can't get involved with helping charities or volunteering for pretty much anything, because the second I legitimately think about those in need, I am overwhelmed. By sadness, by hurt, by grief that their situation is less than...anything really. Seriously, even just an ambulance rushing by, I say a quick prayer and wait for the sirens to fade before I can move again, and it's too much. It is definitely selfish and downright mean, but I just can't bring myself to expand my realm of service past immediate loved ones. Even then, sometimes I feel so burdened by all the pain, I can't even cry because I feel like I'm torn in two.

I have no idea why I'm like this. I suppose it's a sort of a defense mechanism, but like put onto others? Because, say what you want about me, that's fine. But anyone else? Back off. I feel a lump in my throat every time anyone around me is threatened. Even my Spanish professor, who I really didn't like at first, the minute the rest of the class starts to not like her, I feel a rush of admiration and respect. It's so backwards and usually gets me way too many dirty looks, but I just can't stand by and see/hear people getting bashed when they can't defend themselves. I don't always defend them back, but I always feel the pain for them.

But of course, there is an upside to this. I have become unbelievably optimistic about the most random things. I have almost a naive innocence that the good will prevail over anything, that everyone will be fine and the world won't end. Really, it's more for my survival and sanity than anything else, but it fortunately extends past that for everything else as well. Sure, I tear up in the middle of class because of a book I finished 3 days ago and yeah, it's given me somewhat of a quick temper, but I would shoulder the burden a hundred times over than be an emotionless.

Oh, also, it's why I cry so much and so hard during movies, books and even a good song, because I feel the other persons emotions so fully, I'm overwhelmed by whatever they are so clearly feeling. That can get really obnoxious.


P.S. At least when I say, "I understand," it's almost always because I really, really do.

Hm. Well, that's nice.

I just finished completely scrubbing down my entire apartment. Like my bathtub, the entire floor with cleaner with bleach, every surface and even the refrigerator. It's sort of become my Sunday ritual to really clean the place before the week ahead, mostly so I can't use it as an excuse to avoid my work.


Okay, was that BORING enough for you!?!?

I have a bit of a dilemma. I still think I'm doing this whole college thing incorrectly. As I flip through people's pictures on facebook and see their crazy, wild (usually alcohol induced) adventures, I wonder why I don't do that. I don't feel the need whatsoever to find the best parties, have the coolest friends, or be tagged in the craziest of albums. I don't feel more comfortable surrounded by 5o strangers who are having "the best time." I don't even want to be super hipster and have the perfect camera/pants/shoes/eyewear.

It's like I skipped a step. In high school, I did whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. Of course, for me, it was incredibly tame and more often than not I was home by 12:15, because my best friend had a curfew at midnight. Plus I was so worn out by theatre, most of the time I couldn't even stay awake past 11. And now, I'm here. Sitting in my apartment, writing up to do lists and going over my various classes and appointments for the week. I have post-its surrounding me full of reminders of what homework I have and stuff I can't forget, like bills and groceries. I'm calm and happy, proud of my clean apartment and organized school stuff.

Now, I know I just wrote a post saying how I'm not a grown up yet, and that's still true. But it's almost like I am trying so hard to not be a kid, that's I'm forgetting to be a college kid. What's worse is that I am perfectly content with that. In fact, as I look at people's pictures, I don't feel the least bit of envy towards them. Sure, they probably had a blast and will remember those nights for years to come. But that's not me. It never was and I honestly hope it never is. I've never been comfortable at parties and much prefer a coffee date or dinner and the movies. It's just who I am. So those kids who are "doing college right" can keep their late nights, hungover mornings, and wild adventures. I'd much rather do what I want than to pretend I want to do what they want to do.

Sure, I still feel like I'm missing out a bit, but it's more like I'm forgetting to do something or like I misplaced something. It's a vague, nagging feeling at the back of my mind that I will eventually forget about and move on to do something I actually want to do, like starting a new book or watching a movie with my roommate. It's what makes me happy. I'll still look through Facebook albums and wonder what I would have done had I been the one in the pictures, but it's more just something to do, not something I'd want to be a part of.

P.S. Am I wrong? Am I missing out?

Oh, man.

For the past week, I have written on my to-do list to write a blog, because I figure it had been a bit too long since I had last written one. Little did I know that it had been THREE WEEKS since I wrote a blog. I am so very sorry, readers, shan't happen again.

Of course, I have a very valid reason for the lack of blog love...

I am sooo busy!

Seriously though, this is busiest I have ever been in my college career. This past summer, it was so non-stop moving, working and just doing that I would spend the precious free moments I had longing for the carefree, easy days of fall semester. Boy howdy, was I wrong! First of all, it's a lot harder. When I was in high school, it was all about how difficult junior year was and blah blah blah, but oh my gosh, those kids don't even know what hit them. Junior year in college is a mix of all those annoying classes you didn't want to take, but have to and the really hard classes that are for your major that you need to get out of the way to take the fun classes for your major. A.K.A. A very stressed and strung out Emma.

Let me break it down for you:

Spanish II: It will mostly likely be downfall. Tonight marks the first night I will have to study into the wee hours as I have a test tomorrow for this class and I legitimately have NO idea what is going on. It's shudder worthy

Anthropology + Lab: The lecture class, in a word, rocks. My professor is British and preciously matches all of her clothes to the extreme. Yeah, the work is hard, but it's not too bad. The lab on the other hand....wow. Just, wow. Next week is my osteology quiz in which I have to know all the bones in the body. WHAT!? I am an ENGLISH major! Urgh...

Critical Theory for English majors: Eh, pretty blah actually. The professor is kind of a weird dude with a very odd teaching style and the works we are studying are equally blah. I mean, who picks the most obscure Henry James to analyze?

American Literature up until 1875: OH, MY GOSH I LOATHE THIS CLASS! This professor has the most ridiculous teaching style ever. It is a class of 250 and required for several majors, and yet he feels the need to make it a discussion class. So he races all over the giant auditorium with a microphone so people who have no idea what they are talking about can give some random opinion on whatever piece we were supposed to read the night before. For an 1 hour and 20 minutes exactly. I want to die every Monday and Wednesday. Worst part: the professor is actually really smart and has so much valid information that he rarely gets to tell us because every other person in the class wants to talk. Kill me.

Interpersonal Communications: Favorite class. Brilliant professor, fascinating material, and some decently intelligent people. The time flies whilst I'm there.

Classes aside, I keep busy. I accidentally became a makeshift nanny for someone who I babysat/housesat for a lot this summer, so it's good I have a decent income. I live right next to a church that I went to one Wednesday and then suddenly became so involved I'm there all the time and have actually made some really cool friends. Today marked the first meeting of Comm Club (which I thought would be like Comm Council at UT. I was wrong) and I put my name up for secretary. The newspaper is hiring people and tomorrow I'm going to go over there and submit a few pieces. Plus, I am now really good friends with one of my new roommates and love to spend time hanging out with her whenever we get a chance. All in all, my time is occupied.

Update: over. Whining: commence.

I am so very overwhelmed. I always said I would get involved when I was ready and that I just needed time to adjust. Well, apparently that adjusting took exactly two weeks at my new apartment and I was ready to take over Texas State. With classes becoming more demanding, being on other people's schedules instead of my own, and not even remembering the last time I spent more than 15 minutes with someone who I've known longer than 2 months (not even my mom!), I'm stretched so thin and it's not even the second month of school. I'm having a hard time adjusting and have started suffering for it (see Spanish Test drama above). Even as I sit here, I glance at the clock and realize I need to stop writing, get changed and go to church.

Whining aside though, I like it. Of course, it's so tough and I've never been more challenged in my life, but I know me. It'll take me a few weeks of complaining before I get it all figured out. I've just been so slammed lately with tests and meetings that I haven't been able to do the fun stuff I love, like sleep or call my sisters (who I miss too much, even Mel!) Even in high school, I only had on thing on my plate and that was theatre with a side dish of homework every once in awhile. This is a whole new level of hard work, and yes I do in fact realize that college is SUPPOSED to be this way, but still. It's a lot.

PHEW! I did NOT plan on doing that in this entry. I suppose I just needed to let it out. Thanks, blog. I really appreciate it. And I promise not to show too much neglect from now on.

P.S. It might not seem like it when I'm grumbling like this, but I am happy. Really happy.

Whoa, dream big!

Yep, two blog posts back to back. I never thought I'd see the day, but I have been a blog fiend for the last few months and want to share.

I think I have mentioned that my good friend Anjli, over at thissinglelife.wordpress.com, has a pretty awesome blog. Ever since she started it, I have been on a blog hunt for more and more. Now, I have about twenty blogs that I check at least every other day. I am completely fascinated. It's actually sort of becoming a problem since the people who write the blogs have basically become characters in my life story. Like I will tell my friends about stories or pictures that they post as if I know them. Some of them are fashion blogs, some are food blogs, some are just personal blogs, but each one is unique and interesting. Even if it's just pictures, I feel like for the few minutes it takes me to scan a blog entry, I really do know them.

To me, a blog is like a very short book. Or I suppose you could call it a very long book, since entries could go on for years. Just a quick insight into a person's life and boom, there are so many stories behind. Something that has always drawn me to literature is the fact that there are endless possibilities. With fiction, even more so. You never know where a story is going to take you and what will happen. A blog is like that, except, in some ways, better; it's never ending(well, sort of) and these are real people. Anyway, in case I ever do say, "This blog I follow was just talking about that!" here are the ones I read.

Anjli's: thissinglelife.wordpress.com

Jennifer's: txmomof3.wordpress.com

Manon's: misslistless.blogspot.com

Sara-Jane's: sjshepperd.blogspot.com

Tom and Lorenzo's*: projectrungay.blogspot.com

The Sartorialist's*: thesartorialist.blogspot.com

Quinn-from-Glee Diane Agron's: felldowntherabbithole.tumblr.com

Jane's: seaofshoes.typepad.com/sea_of_shoes

Emily's* (and my favorite): cupcakesandcashmere.com

Audrey*: audreyhepburncomplex.tumblr.com

Rachel's: vizbasix.blogspot.com

Lucie's (she lives in Prague!) acupofstyle.blogspot.com

Nicole's: nikymarie.blogspot.com

Emma's (eh, this one is kinda lame :) emmarosetotheoccasion.tumblr.com

Alex's (yep. I read this.) alexmarees.tumblr.com

Taza's: taza-and-husband.blogspot.com

Joslyn: www.simplelovely.blogspot.com

Joslyn's Food: raisingfoodies.blogspot.com

P.S. Before you think I am wasting away my life by constant blog checking, most of these only do an entry once every few days. Only a few *post everyday.

Reasons Why I am Not a Grown Up

So I'm a junior in college, right? Meaning that I have four semesters (presumably) left of my undergrad. Seems like a long time, but then again, some days it still feels like I'm in high school. Moral of the story, it's going by really fast and I keep forgetting to keep up. While, yes, technically I am an adult, I am sooo not a grown up. For the last few weeks I've been keeping a list as to why I am not in any way a grown up to share with you, my many readers.

-I am afraid of the dark because the monsters/ axe murders come out in the dark
-I don't like to got to sleep and never want to get out of bed
-I am essentially a selfish person
-My mom is my best friend
-I have the attention span of a goldfish
-Technology is usually way over my head and I have no inclination to change that
-I am an optimist about the stupidest things
-My imagination is overactive to a fault
-I take things very much to heart and then brush them off
-A good hug can fix it for me
-My sisters are still my heroes
-The reason I can't cook is because I am too impatient to read recipes or practice
-I am too impatient.
-I don't care if I'm not totally put together whilst in public
-I still rebel against my parents
- Taxes. Wait, what?
-I spend half my time plotting to move to far off places and and change the world, and the other half in a cold panic that I'll ever have to legitimately leave my mommy
-The reason I am such a good babysitter is because I am basically a child myself
-I have nightmares that will bother me hours after I wake up
-Graduation, which is still two long years away, is freaking me out already
-I reread books until I have them memorized. And then read them again
-I don't really have a concrete plan for a job post-graduation
-Sometimes my friends can still bully and pressure me, and I let them
-I still think twenty-five is old; then shiver when I realize that's only 5 years away
-Boys have cooties

Of course, there are a lot more. Like I said, impatience is my thing so I suppose it's lucky I even made a list that long to show. As much as I wish I was super grown up and responsible, there are so many things I love about still being a kid, things I wouldn't change. Plus, despite my child-like attitude towards life, there are a lot of things about me that are pretty grown up and I'm fairly proud of those things. For now, I'm just figuring it out and to me, that's what matters. I have the rest of my life to be a grown up. Who cares if I'm not one now?

Texas in August...

...is really, really hot. Especially if you don't have air conditioning in your new apartment and every move you make creates a gallon of sweat. Welcome to my life.

So yeah, my new place is currently 92 degrees, but as I type this, there is a tall gangly maintenance kid in my wall fixing it so I am praying for a cool night sleep before I start school? Maybe? Better be since I won't be able to take the manager up on her offer for a hotel room at 6 p.m. Oh, well, I suppose this is what my mother tells me is the "real world."

Yes, school starts tomorrow if you didn't catch that. I am nervous and excited and worried and annoyed and happy all at the same time. I love a new school year, always eager for the first day. It's everything after the first day that gives me trouble. But my classes should be fun, since most of them are either for my minor or my major, except for that cursed 8 a.m. Spanish class. Nonetheless, I love the first day.

Of course, saying goodbye to summer is always rough. Then again, this summer has been particularly rough as well. With an internship every weekday and too many nannying and babysitting jobs to count, I was busy. However, that made it fun. I spent a lot more time at home, with myself or my mom, which might sound lame, but it meant absolutely no drama. I went to bed early, got up early, worked my butt off and had enough fun to keep me happy. Of course, as always with my life, there were very highs (I really liked my internship) and extreme lows (I think all my readers know about these). But I'm counting my blessings regardless since for me, I had a pretty awesome summer so wishing it goodbye until next year isn't too difficult.

Plus, despite the high temperatures and a questionable roommate, I really like my apartment. It's slowly building up to love, despite my missing shower rod or the fact that the bathroom outlets don't work (hey, it needs some work, so what?) But as the rain pours down, I look out my giant window that overlooks part of campus and a lot of green, I just know it will be good. I feel safe and happy and excited to be here, so for now, it is really good.

Again, though, I'm weird. A part of me is so glad to be back, where I should be, and more excited than I can handle. The other part... well, the other part wants to run back to her mommy and never leave. I said I had a good summer because I was with my mom a lot and it's true. She made my summer fun. Even if it was just cackling about my dad or going to see strange movies, I laughed more than I have in a long time. It's not just that I'm going to miss her, since I'll still be back and forth a lot, it's more about the fact that this summer was most likely the last one I'll ever spend at home. This lease is a year long, meaning next summer will be spent in San Marcos and the next I will have graduated, hopefully meaning I will have a job. Of course, who knows what will happen, but still, this summer was the last summer I really had a kid who lives with her parents and it hurt a lot more than I could say to leave. I spent the last few weeks in a panic because I knew leaving soon and I was so scared, still am. But now that I'm here, it's easier to handle since I am so happy and the fact that I've lived here for four days and have seen my mom for two of them. Not too big a deal right? Yikes...

Oh good, now I'm crying while the maintenance kid is here. Cool, I'll be that girl. Anyway, sorry this blog is so wordy, just a few things that I've been holding in for a while, waiting for a blog post. The irony is that this summer I have starting a series blog obsession and those that are my favorites are the ones that are mostly pictures. Oh, well. Hope my few readers return to peruse this one. Well, time to prepare for the first day of school. Sandwich making and bag packing commence!

P.S. I'm sorry if I made you cry. You know how I hate that...

Summer timeeee

Okay, I figured I'd do an official hiatus this time instead of just not doing anything. So. Yeah.



See ya in August!

Okay, so I really, really don't want to study for geography because I really, really hate geography. There is very little that can persuade me to get up, go to my desk, and crack open that book except for the hopes of getting an A in that class. That, and my really cute T.A. who makes pretty much anything interesting. But ridiculous school girl crush aside, I am literally doing everything in my power to think up ways to push back the time when I have to start studying. Such activities include:

1) Looking at all the fashion blogs that are tearing apart Hollywood/Fashion World from the Met Gala last night.
2) Finding new books on Amazon, realizing I need to win the lottery and become incredibly anti-social to read every book ever.
3) Making the 4th cup of tea of the day, because I WILL NOT GET SICK DANGIT! I have 6 days left of this semester and I will survive that time without the cold I feel coming on.
4) Cleaning/packing up my apartment. Sort of. Simply because I have another week left to do that and as much as I want to clean everything, it will just get messy again.
5) Writing a blog.

So that's what's up.

But I did have a general topic that's been on my mind lately. Gosh, there's a part of me that wishes I had a bunch of readers like my friends who have blogs, but then I remember that this blog is all about moi and that no one in their right mind, with the exception of my lovely family, would ever consider following this blog. WHOA distraction. Back to the point.

So every once in awhile I kind of freak out about my chosen career path. A.K.A. Do I really have the motivation/ability/insanity to pursue a career in books? This usually stems from the doubt of whether or not I am really a book lover enough to have a life devoted to them. Those who are reading this with incredulity, yes it really does happen. Sometimes it comes from a book dry spell, which is when I've been to busy or lazy to really read that much and I freak out that every one else is so up on reading and I haven't finished a book in almost two weeks. Or occasionally I'll talk to someone who is a book fiend who has read everything ever and I feel so irrelevant and unable to keep up that I immediately think I will never be a good book fiend. I think, my goodness, who do I think I am that I have the ability to even suggest books to others, let alone publish one and decide that should be the Great American Novel. Freak-outedness ensues.

But then...

I finish a book. Or I start one. Or I go to look up a random book on Amazon and three hours later I realize I have over a hundred books in my cart. Or I stay up until 5 in the morning reading an entire book accidentally (has happened way too many times). After something like this happens, I am reassured. The relationship I have with Literature is more like a relationship with a person. It has its ups and downs, sometimes I can't count on it, occasionally I am extremely let down, but then we make up, I remember the amazing attributes that charmed me in the beginning and we come full circle. We carry on, taking one day at a time, seeing the faults and follies of each other, but keeping in mind that the unbelievable love I have for Literature is something that won't go away, not matter how down I get.

As ridiculous as it sounds, it's what keeps me in check. The drive to make me go to my desk after I post this blog, find the definition for fluvial geomorphology because in the end, I would do pretty much anything to keep myself on the path to what I want. Which always has been and I know for a fact always will be, books.

Okay, epiphany over. Too much James Joyce in lit class, I guess. Also, this will be the last post for awhile as I have finals to suffer through. Have a good day/week/time!

P.S. I really miss you when you're not around, by the way. So come around.

Never thought I'd see the day...

Where I would write a blog about my hair. Well, really I should have expected it, as my hair is on of my all time favorite things. Call in pure vanity, but really, have you seen the river of chestnut locks that is my head of unbelievably thick hair?

That is surprisingly a good transition into my next point. So I am growing out my hair. Or at least, I have been for the last two years. And nothing. It has been the same general length for the last two years. I get it trimmed every 3 months or so, because if I don't, the ends are just a mass of split hairs and plain old disgusting. Anyway, same length for a very long time. I asked Carolyn about this the last time I got a trim in March and she told me that it's just because the hair at the ends is so old and weak, it probably can't take what I do to it (which, in all honesty is just the occasional blow dry and straightening!) So here comes my problem, the same problem I always have when my hair begins to get to a pretty decent length.

I want to cut it all off.

Seriously, I want a chin length bob so badly, I can almost feel myself reaching for the phone to call Carolyn. And truly, it would be for the best. My hair is fairly unhealthy apparently and chopping it off and starting new would only be helpful. Plus I think I look pretty decent with short hair so it wouldn't be a huge disaster, right?

But....

I LOVE MY HAIR! I love how thick it is, I love that when I get angry, bored, distracted, frustrated, excited, tired, hungry, you name IT, I grab up bunches of my hair and play with it. I can literally sit in front of mirror for endless amounts of time doing funky crazy hair styles I would never in a million years actually do, but still like to pretend. And I want to see how long I can actually get it. Even though it seems to refuse to grow, this is the longest is has ever been and I would love to try to go for as long as possible. Also, I have the longest hair of my friends, NOT because I secretly and subtly suggested and pushed for my friends to go ahead and just chop of their hair. My latest conquest of doing this is my friend Anjli who has ridiculously long, beautiful hair. Legitimately, down the length of her whole back is gorgeous waves of black, black hair that is just in a league of its own. Which is why I have pretty much given up on her ever cutting it, as she has a similar problem to me.

It's a security blanket. Especially, in my case, my bangs. I tried pulling them back the other day because they were so dirty, they should not have been seen and I felt so weird! Borderline naked, and it was not a fun feeling. Along with my long hair, I love my bangs. Love, love love them. I semi-attempted to grow them out as well last summer until about the end of July when I just took matters into my own hands and cut them short again. I just can't have my forehead in plain view, or something.

So here is the question I pose to my few beloved followers (a.k.a. Mom) To cut or not to cut?

P.S. This is my 50th blog post. Weird, right?

Wonder Afficianado

Ah, the glories of a birthday weekend. They are seemingly endless. It is also the explanation as to why I am very tired this Sunday evening and the only activity I can think to do is lay on my couch and watch Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium. Now before you criticize and judge my movie choice, WATCH IT! It is a beautifully magical movie, and while yes it is a kids movie, it has an outstanding cast, soundtrack, and life lessons. So there.

Anyway, let me break down the whole b-day weekend:

Started on Friday with a pretty exciting concert with Melanie, Kelley, and Cody at Antone's. The band, one I had never heard before, was Local Natives and was really good. Plus, we got the most amazing parking spot, legitimately a block away from Antone's, which, on a Friday night, was miraculous. But yes, super fun night.

On Saturday, I had a particular delightful time going to lunch with my mom, sister, and our friend KD at one of the most delicious restaurants, Bountiful Bakery. Well, I am a little biased as I have yet to have a less than amazing meal there. Truly, even their cheeseburgers were borderline perfect. And don't even get me started on the birthday cupcake I got. Can you say YUM!? Yes, that was quite fun. From there, Kelley, KD, Melanie, and I went to the Austin Pets Alive SoCo event where Mel found the kitty she wants and now will most likely get! An adorable 6 month old tuxedo cat named Arnie, a name that Mel somehow loves. Likkity's came next, despite the treats at lunch, and I had the greatest cup of custard I have ever had. From there, we went to the Bluegrass Festival at Cowboy Church. Yep. After eating some catfish and drinking lemonade with some dirt in it, we went home, where I awaited the next event of birthday fun.

My friends Carson and Veronica were taking me out to dinner for my birthday. We ended up at an old favorite, Mags, because we were all craving some Mag Mud (best queso ever). From there we went to Mozart's because I needed some good coffee. After a bit, Carson suggested we go back to her house, because my present was there and she wanted to give me a CD I had wanted. All seemingly harmless events, right? Well, we went to her house, only to walk into the living room and have balloons showered on us. After I screamed, I kind of caught on that I had found myself at a surprise party--for me.

I have never had a surprise party before, mostly because it never occurred me to hint at or even expect one. So I always plan birthday stuff for myself. This year, though, with school and family stuff, I kind of let my birthday plans slide to the wayside. I attempted to plan a friends dinner birthday type deal, but decided to just reschedule until after school was over. Apparently Carson had other ideas in mind. It was actually a lot of fun, a chill and small event, but nice.

Then, I got to sleep in this morning, which was especially needed as said surprise party went until very late, and I still consider a small birthday celebration in itself. Of course, the celebrating ending quickly when my dad came home and we started to do a lot of chores and house stuff, but that was okay, as it needed to get done. From there, the rest of the day was mostly lazing about and hanging around, which is always a good time. Then I came back to my empty apartment (roommate gone until tomorrow), fixed myself some dinner and headed to the couch. All in all, a very good weekend, with a few key players and a lot of fun times. Now I will finished watching a great movie, read the rest of my book, and go to bed early. Simply magnificent if I do say so myself. So despite troubling weeks coming ahead, filled hard work, strength testers, and most likely, breakdowns, I am a very lucky twenty year old. Goodnight, readers.

P.S. There is a lot of cliche advice that actually fits. Like, it's gonna be okay, don't worry, it'll all work out.

Can I reschedule my birthday?

Seriously, though can I? I posed this question to my good friend Emma today because I really need to reschedule it. I was sitting outside of Einstein's making up a calendar of the work and assignments I have going on for the next few weeks or so before finals, when it hit me. My birthday really could not come at a worse time. It is smack in the middle of speech, a research paper and a test. My birthday weekend, if it was any other weekend, should be jam-packed with studying and work but instead, I'm planning lunches and concerts to go to. It's actually starting to upset me that I have to have a weekend off instead of getting work down. So now, readers, I ask you, is it possible to reschedule a birthday?

Anyway, personal crisis (not really, but come on) aside, my week started a bit depressed with my two wonderful, beautiful amazing sisters going back to their respective places. It was Saturday night, I was laying in bed and I realized I would probably not see them until the fall and that made me incredibly sad. It sucks to have an intercontinental family (pun intended for Melanie!) But after such a fun and crazy weekend, I guess I can't complain because I am very blessed to be related to the coolest chicks on the planet.

Okay, enough bragging. So I've been getting into blogs. Several of my friends have started blogs to get their writing chops for their journalism majors and let me tell you, they're really fun. I myself have been thinking about started a non-family, non-my personal life blog. You might have noticed that the blog entries on this one have started getting exponentially longer and you have all the blogs I've been reading to thank (or blame) for that. I mentioned to my sisters this weekend that I could never be a writer because I wouldn't be satisfied unless I wrote The Great American Novel and that's true. But a blog is so different. I realize that probably no one would read it and I'd never get any notice, but there is a definite joy in writing for me and I feel such less pressure when it comes to the internet. No one is that good of a writer when it comes to an online thing (within reason) so I wouldn't have to worry so much about being the perfect writer. But a lot of this is just speculation and envy at my other friends writing such hip and chic blog entries about single living and campus pieces, so don't assume anything about my future writing capabilities.

Hmm, this blog has gotten sort of wonky. Again, blame the blog-verse. I'm all about being a blogger now, but give it five minutes and I'll want to be something else. Oh right, I had a theme for this entry before...Here it is.

I'm weird.

Haha, no seriously. I was chatting with one of my sisters (can you see the pattern?) and I said something kind of random that made me think. I mentioned that I am mature and responsible about a lot of stuff, like I can carry on conversations with my friends parents and my parents friends almost better than I can with people my own age. I prefer a relaxed weekend with ones I love than doing wild and crazy nonsense. I find it easier to connect with people so much older than me than someone who is younger.

At the same time, I am so immature. I forget things usually instantly. I am disorganized and so irresponsible about the most random things, like if it's not written on a sticky or a post it, it just does not get down. Granted, that's not a deal breaker, but it is an example. It's almost like I am the weirdest of both worlds.

I blame books. I am so used to getting caught up in all these different worlds and times that I find it hard to stay in the one I'm actually in. I know it's probably Lit Freak Syndrome or something, but I am more eager to read about the crazy lives of people than to actually live one. I'm more at home sitting in the corner of a coffee shop imagining myself sitting in the parlor room in Newland Archer's house or helping Diego Rivera mix plaster. It's the only way I've ever known how to read books and the reason I love them so dang much.

Okay, if you skipped over all that absolute nonsense, I do not blame you. I guess that cup of coffee with lunch was a big mistake, as I sound totally nutty right about now, but it's something I've been thinking about a lot. That's the problem with college, it gives you all this time to figure yourself out and think about the Big Things. Before I completely dissuade my few followers from ever checking this blog again, I should get back to my work. Love to all and hugs for even more!

P.S. Even when I am my most ridiculous, I know you still love me and I keep on keeping on. Thanks.

So many foreign roads.

This has been a very long week.

Let's just say, it's that time of the semester. Professors feel it is their duty to heap work upon their students, assuming that their class is the only class worth focusing on. News flash: it's not.

Seriously, I had a test on Thursday in Mass Comm and a test Friday in British Lit, but both went well. I had a test this morning in Geography, but he let us have a whole 8x11 page as a cheat sheet (I swear, this man cannot be a real professor) so I'm not worried about that. Tomorrow I have to give a speech in my comm class that is worth as much as an exam, but I'm doing it on a subject I gave a speech on last year so it's not that big of a deal. Plus I still have enough theatre training in me to make public speaking a piece of cake.

Do you see the trend? I'm completely not hassled at all. It's actually got me worried that I'm not worried about anything. Sure, there is a lot of work and studying to do, but I get it done in a timely fashion. Yeah, I have a lot on my plate but it's really not getting me down. If I feel especially bogged, I just go to a coffeehouse, sit on the porch in the sun, and sip an Americano. Just like that, I gain some perspective and get back to work. I'm doing my reading, I'm writing my papers, I'm studying for tests, all with a minimum amount of stress. It is enough to drive me crazy, but isn't.

Plus, if schoolwork wasn't enough, the universe apparently would like to test me some more. For instance, I had a very tiring but incredibly delightful weekend at home babysitting Lena and George with my mom. As I was driving back to school from Austin, I began to feel nauseous, but ignored it and kept driving, joking with my friend about it. Big mistake. I barely made it to San Marcos when I had to pull into an empty parking lot, open my door, and well...you know... several times. Whether it was menstrual side affects, allergies, or just a weird mishap, it happened two more times back at my apartment. It kept me out of classes on Monday, but I felt completely fine on Tuesday and haven't really given it a second thought.

And, less dramatically but still important, this afternoon I was taking a shower and shaving my legs with a new razor, and not really paying attention. Before I knew it, I had gashed a huge cut above my ankle at least 2 inches long and an inch thick. Luckily, it was fairly shallow but bled for almost an hour, which was really bad because it turns out I ran out of band-aids. It was an event, to say the least.

Okay, that last one didn't really count, but still, major happenings in my day. So the motif of this little post is that a lot of things have been happening that should have me sitting in a corner, shoulders slumped and lips in a distinct pout, but they're not. I'm doing well in school and have a complete handle on all my work. I'm surprisingly organized and efficient about pretty much everything. I'm not even stressing about the fact that having a Kindle means having about 50 books at hand, which in my world, means I am about halfway through 50 books. Usually I am totally not able to handle that, but I'm taking it coolly and calmly. What is that?

I suppose you could call it maturity. I'd suggest that maybe my faith has helped create a balance. Perhaps even the tentative yoga I've been trying out has worked more than I thought? I'm just happy. All the time. It's so weird. I keep waiting for something to happen, to cause a whirlwind of emotions, events, and this Emma going back to CrazyTown, but for now, I am just pleasant and peaceful about pretty much everything.

I guess the advice that I can gain from all this is just a reaffirmation on the sage words that everything is happening for a reason, it will work out and really, to just trust in the Lord while working very hard is all you can do. Finally, I can see that unfolding in my life. Alright, time for me to go to bed, because I have done my work for the day and I should really get a good night's sleep before my speech. Goodnight, readers (a.k.a. Mom!)

P.S. I don't ask it enough, but how is your life?

Also! I had gone grocery shopping yesterday and stocked up on some healthy snacks, one of which was (healthy) popcorn. Today, as I went to get a bag, I realized I had grabbed the wrong box and bought Kettle Corn. Usually I'm not that big a fan of Kettle corn, but I made it anyway. And it was delicious! Exactly what I wanted without knowing it was what I wanted! Crazy!

Hi, my name is Emma and I am boring.

Yep. It's the truth. I know some of you have had your suspicions in the past and maybe even knew it for sure, but I have recently admitted this to myself so let me just explain.

I think a lot of is this new school thing. Maybe I haven't found my niche, maybe I haven't met the right group of people, or (the real truth) I really am just boring. Seriously, I was walking around the grocery store this afternoon and it was at its most packed, given that it was the big H-E-B in town and it was 5:00 p.m. and I realized that I was perfectly content being alone, shopping for my boring little groceries and going on my way to do boring things.

Maybe boring isn't the right word, although it is definitely one of them. I am just very satisfied with what I have right now, which to some might not seem like a lot. Like with school. I am doing pretty well in my classes, I go to every single one, with minor exceptions (it was snowing two weeks ago, my bus was late, and my bed was warm. Sue me!) which to some might seem like a totally weird behavior, but to me, makes sense. Three of my classes have strict attendance anyway, so it just kind of makes sense that I go to the rest. Besides, if I miss a class, I miss the information; miss the information, don't do well on the test; don't do well on the test, waste my time. It makes sense! So why do people give me weird looks when I say I don't skip my classes!? Gah! Anyway, moving on.

I also have boring activities. Honestly, I am usually studying at the library, various coffee shops (Coffee Pot Loooove) or perhaps outside a class super early. If I don't have to study, maybe I'll get dinner with one of my few friends here (yes, I'll explain that one, too) or perhaps catching a movie at the dollar theatre, or, if I'm feeling really crazy, I'll go to the outlets and not spend money. Whoa! If I don't feel like going out anywhere, I hang out in my room and watch Hulu shows or read my Kindle, because that, to me, is relaxing. I eat healthy, I watch the money I spend, I have a routine. Basically, I am breaking college code of conduct.

Okay, so the friends thing, which is also boring. For the first time, I don't have people immediately become my friends. In high school, it was usually automatic with anyone I wanted. Here, however...not so much. Of course, I talk to people in my classes, hang out with Veronica or Stephen, and spend time with my roommate, but often, I prefer to be alone. Okay, I give you permission to go call a crazy hospital because I know I sound nutz. But don't worry, I really am not crazy. Right....? It's just, I don't know, different. And it's not because I'm incapable of friendship or because no one likes me. I think it's more that I'm not really all that ready to dive in. Although it has been months since I started this school, there's still a lot I'm getting used to. Like today, I got on the wrong bus, a bus I take every single day, at least twice. It freaked me out in a big way and even though it turned out totally fine and only slightly embarrassing, it still reminded me that I'm technically a newbie. The bottom line there is that I'm still getting my footing. I get that meeting people and becoming involved is about 84% of the "college experience," and I'm not saying that I will never have friends or join clubs. I'm just saying, not yet.

Okay, moving on so I don't talk myself into a hole in which I get a bunch of calls and emails saying that I should change my ways. The thing is, that while I may be boring, I like being boring. My high school experience, I realize way too late, was nothing like it should have been. I was constantly stressed, dramatic and basically miserable all the time because I made a bad choice when I was a wee little freshmen. I am not going to let that happen again. I will join the things I want to join because they will be fun and good for me. I will not let myself be sucked into something just because it seems like the right thing to do. All I need is to let myself take this slowly, find my own way, and just trust in the Lord, because come on now, that's all I can do.

Wow, no seriously, the rant is over now, sorry. Okay, I have to go take a shower, brush my teeth and be in bed by 11 because again, if you haven't gotten it by now, I.Am.Boring! And also unlike most college kids, but really, let's be honest, when have I ever been like most kids? That's what I thought. Goodbye, for now!

P.S. I'm pretty sure you're incapable of boring. And I love that the most.

This Spring is about to get Broken

Spring break has arrived and not a minute too soon. Well, that's not really true. This semester has been pleasantly strolling by, much to my surprise; a last minute class schedule that worked out for the most part and enough work to keep me on my toes

Let's make this an updating post, shall we?

First of all, I'm sick. It's just a cold, but it's one of those colds that gets deep into your bones until you feel like it'll never go away, you'll never get better. I suppose it's entirely my fault. I knew I would get sick, after this weekend of hanging out with two very sick little babies, and not to mention a mother getting over a cold herself. But the timing worked out, so I hardly mind. I had a very hard test on Monday, so I knew that as long as I got past that, I could give myself time to be sick. Who would of thought you could plan illness? It did turn out to be fine, as the sore throat and slight cough arrived late afternoon Monday, perfectly missing the test altogether. So I've been laying in bed, watching a mass amount of movies while attempting to get better before spring break because I will be the first to tell you that being sick on vacation is the most abhorrent thing in the world.

Let's see, what else...Oh, yes, okay, I have decided that I will minor in communications. This is surprisingly a big deal, as it is an extra 21 hours but oh well. I've become really good friends with my Comm lab instructor (really cool Christian grad student chick) and I think it's something I'll really enjoy. Fun times.

Also, I've been earnestly looking into study abroad programs. Of course, the more I look into it, the more overwhelming and scary it seems, but also the more I feel I just need to do this. Call it crazy or call it whatever, but I just feel the need to stretch my legs and mind across an ocean or two. Freaky, right?

Hmm, anything else? Ah, well, I'm on a total health kick. I think it was my sudden love for bananas. For years I was never able to even stand the sight of a banana, and now I have at least two a day. Madness. But anyway, I am trying to be totally healthy and spend my free time looking up cheap and easy ways to be healthy and who would have thought, it's completely possible. I'm really enjoying it, too. Of course, there are slip ups, especially when I go home, but I'm learning to work with it. Now Spring Break will be the true test, but we shall see.

Alright, I think that's it for now, as I have warm salt water to gargle. Sorry if this post seems off in anyway. My brain is completely addled and borderline nonfunctional; I suppose I really do need a break. Goodnight, readers!

P.S. Be healthy, too. Then we'll get to stick around together forever. Love you lot's

P.P.S. Ooh, another unrelated thing: I've become a total Francophile and am now determined to learn French!

You're wrong when it's right.

YES, I just quoted Katy Perry lyrics! NO, it's not because I like her!

I mean, I do, a little but only when I need a screaming-out-the-lyrics-and hoping-I'm-in-the-same-vocal-range kind of jam. Then I scan the radio stations for Miz Perry and I am rarely let down. Piece of advice, try this when you're down, it totally helps.

Anywho, the real reason for quoting that particular lyric as it's kind of accurate to my personality, or what have you. Okay, here's the explanation: I am almost always wrong. Seriously. Trivia, memories, random bits of useless information, I simply am incorrect whatever I say. In fact, I am wrong so often, I have a friend who always knows when to say the opposite is correct because if I am so adamant about one thing, it must be the other. I mean it, if I am supporting you and going along with what you're saying, just stop talking because you are probably wrong, too; I'm contagiously mistaken. I probably owe my mom hundreds of dollars, in quarters, for all the bets I've lost over the years, because, honestly, if I'm always wrong, she is always right. It's ridiculous. And unfortunately for me, Melanie seems to have inherited that trait as well, so I am just surrounded by correct people all the time. It can get old. Although, I feel like my ability to not only admit that I am constantly wrong should give me a little bit of credit. Of course, saying that probably proves it immediately false. Oh, well.

Now, don't get me wrong (tee-hee), there are times when I am right. However, as fate would have it, those times, as few as they are, have become extremely unwanted. I seem to only be right about the things I really, really don't want to be right about. When it comes to sad gossip, unfortunate situations no one wants to think about, or even just predicting bad weather, I have got that covered with a right answer. For example, I was right about my best friend, Veronica. I predicted that she would change, almost completely alter herself, when she got a long-awaited boyfriend. What I had hoped would NOT happen (which apparently means it must happen) was that the change would be for the worse. You know, won't answer calls, becomes incredibly flaky, and the few times we do hang out, she spends the entire time a) complaining about the boyfriend and b) texting and planning when she can stop hanging out with me so she can be with the boyfriend. Let me tell you, I wish I had been wrong.

Of course, there are a few scenarios when I was right that I'm actually happy about. I was right about Emma when she fated herself to find a really great guy when she swore up and down she wouldn't at Bible college; I was right that Kacey was right when she said I would like, perhaps even love Texas State; I was also right that I would change, learn things about myself, and grow the heck up. See? Being wrong almost all the time is okay, just as long as I get a few important things right. At least once in a blue moon should suffice.

I guess you could say that I've accepted my inability to be one of those people who just has all the answers, or any answers for that matter. Then again, if you know me at all, there are certain times when my being incorrect is cause for a temper tantrum (hey, it gets hard, okay?) However, in a similar boat, it has taught me such a sense of humility, and respect for those who are so correct and smart that I wouldn't trade it for being a smarty-pants. Through my many, many failings, I have learned to not only see the silver lining, but depend on it. Otherwise, I would be a very unhappy little camper. So I guess what I'm trying to say is, I like being wrong. I wouldn't be who I am today without my incapacity to be right. And I don't know about you, but I kind of like me, despite my flaws and faults. So hard times of being incorrect have come my way and will keep coming my way, but it's perfectly alright since I am pretty good at handling it. Or at least, I'm learning to be.

Alright, enough of my personal philosophies for one day. I have too many exams to study for and about 3 days to study for them all. Yay, for mid-terms. Anyway, I'm sorry if this post was ridiculous and far out. I promise the next one will be boring and trivial (just kidding, I know this one was boring and trivial, too). Goodnight to all! Unless you are reading this at any other time of day...Whatever, my brain is fried. Good-whatever time of day it is that you're reading this!

P.S. Whenever you are wrong about something, just remember, I was probably wrong about it first and the situation was probably way more embarrassing for me.

P.P.S. Happy Valentine's Day! Just so you know, you'll always be my Valentine :)

How my February began.

Every once and awhile, I will get an inexplicable bout of insomnia, completely out of the blue. No caffeine intake, no weird foods before bed, just plain ole randomness. This happened last night. Below is a breakdown of the first day of February went (and is going) for me.

12:30 a.m. --Look at the clock, note the hour and begin to find a good stopping point.
12:35 a.m. --Turn off lamp and squish down in the covers
1:05 a.m. --Unable to sleep, not even a trace of sleepiness, which is definitely disconcerting.
1:15 a.m.--Suddenly get overwhelmed with the idea that I have no idea where I could intern this summer. Get on laptop and begin search.
1:25 a.m. --Internship search turns into Facebook/Twitter/Random blogs search.
2:15 a.m. --Still not sleepy; put away computer and re-open Ken-doll.
2:45 a.m. --Starting to get seriously concerned by lack of sleepiness; sit up in bed and stare at walls.
3:05 a.m. --Less concerned by lack of sleepiness; wander into kitchen to get some water, end up getting a bowl of Fruit-Rageous (off brand of Fruity Pebbles...it was the cheapest cereal!)
3:15 a.m. --Go back to kitchen to clean, dry and put away bowl and spoon. Stand there for about 4 minutes, lamenting my 8 a.m. wake up call.
3:29 a.m. --Re-brush my teeth. Then floss. Then use mouthwash.
3:40 a.m. --Go back to bed. Turn off light with resolve.
3:47 a.m. --People above me decide to stomp around room and listen to music loudly. I mentally curse them for not letting me sleep! Then feel bad and retract my inner insults, since I was technically awake...
4:00 a.m. --Okay. This is it! I feel sleepy! Curl up in a little ball! Time for sleep! This had better not be a foreshadowing of my February.
---
8:00 a.m. --Doesn't happen. Reset alarm for 8:45.
8:45 a.m. --Wake up, surprisingly refreshed, despite my late bedtime. Then realize this will mean I will craaaash at about 11:00...
9:20 a.m. --Walk out the door, bundled up against the gross, cold weather, coffee thermos in hand. Decide it is most definitely a 'Jam to Glee soundtrack,' kind of morning. Stop myself from dancing all the way to the bus stop. Only dance part of the way.
9:45 a.m. --Sit outside of first class, attempt to read Byron; Daydream about napping while drinking my coffee and eating a Pop-Tart instead. (Oh, jeez I swear I'm not this unhealthy. They were special fiber-filled not-really-pop-tarts-Pop-Tarts!)
10:00 a.m. --I hate this geography class. He is nooo Professor Cooper. Attempt Byron again instead.
10:53 a.m. --Oh, jeez, he always let's us out late, so I have to race to my next class at the busiest time in the Quad. Run into 4 people.
11:00 a.m. --Favorite class: British Literature 1785+. Love Professor Hammett. Today, declared that Lord Byron was the Lady Gaga of the 18th century. Deee-lightful. Realize I am really, really tired. Curse you, insomnia!
11:50-12:24--Practically run through the rain to get to the Den (funky little eating spot). Pull out my turkey sandwich and my geography lab report to double check answers. Instead, play Solitaire on iTouch until I look at the clock and realize I am late to my lab. Shove all things into my backpack and rush to Evans Building.
12:27 p.m. --Marvel at the lack of foot traffic in the quad and go into lab; look at cute grad student in charge of lab and sit down.
12:32 p.m. --Remember my dislike of Physical Geography. Realize how difficult and pointless it is. Struggle over new lab report.
1:50 p.m. --Give up on lab report and decide to go to office hours later to have cute grad student explain what the heck he was talking about.
1:57 p.m. --For once, get a good seat on shuttle. Rejoice!
1:57 1/2 p.m. --Gross guy eating pizza sits too close. Rejoicing ends.
2:20 p.m. --Arrive at apartment. Look behind me to see if anyone saw my dancing on the way back. Only one person. That's a first.
2:25 p.m. --Check email. Phone rings, it's Mom! Yay! Decide L.A. won't work out for Spring Break. No yay...
2:30 p.m. --Decide it's not worth it, give into crash course set out by my lack of sleep. Aim for bed, grab Snuggie and fall blissfully asleep still dressed.
3:3o p.m. --Stupid text message wakes me up. Drowsily throw it across the room. Decide I should get up anyway, apologize to phone and return text. (Which you never responded to, Emma!)
3:34 p.m. --Decide I need a cup of hot tea and a snack (preferably healthy since I'd slacked off earlier...and at 3 a.m.)
3:45 p.m. --Roommate comes home, end up chatting in the kitchen.
4:00 p.m. --Go back to room to watch Gilmore Girls.
4:15 p.m. --Remember I hate this season. Continue watching anyway, but start to do a blog.
4:20 p.m. --Realize in horror, that I did stay up until 4 a.m. Good heavens.
4:30 p.m. --Run out of things to say.
4:45 p.m. --Make a Post-It of what I want for dinner and what I should wear to class tomorrow. Eh, and of homework I need to do.
5:00 p.m. --Decide now would be a good time to start homework...Man!

Alright, I guess I could get all metaphorical and say how, like the rest of the month, my evening is a mystery as it should be. But don't worry, I won't. If you really read all that, wow. Thanks. Time to earn my college education and read about Communications. Lucky me! So happy February all! ...And Happy preliminary Birthday, Melanie...It is her month.

P.S. I like details, as you can tell. Maybe tell me some of yours?

My mother.

Today is my mother's birthday. She turns 21 today, which seems odd, since her oldest daughter is about to turn 23. Oh, well, let's not look too closely at that :)

Anyway, this post is not dedicated to my mother. It's dedicated to the all the amazing and wonderful things she's given me; all the love and lessons she's bestowed over my nineteen years, that without, I could not survive to see my 2oth birthday. This post is for all the times I have belligerently realized how right and smart my mother was, while still stubbornly disagreeing. This post is for every time I had unthinkingly reached for the phone because there is no other true solution besides than asking my mother. Truly, this post is for every time I have thanked my lucky, lucky stars I have a blessing so great as my mother.

Sure, we fight, my mother and me. We fight, we cry, we yell, we insult, and we hurt. But not as often (anymore...). Now, as I've grown up, the things I've learned that I cannot live without are how we laugh, we talk, we banter, we learn, we gossip, we joke, we enjoy and above all else, times a million, how we love. I'm sure, dramatically, that I could NOT go on without her love. It is the single most important reassurance I need when things are too tough, too impossible, and too frustrating.

There are things about my mother that I have, at times, taken for granted and at times, I have thanked the Lord aloud for; her countless talents, her seemingly endless wisdom, and her near perfect patience, to name a few. There are the things that she has taught me, the things she is still teaching me, and the things I can only hope and pray to have her teach me in the future. Without everything she has given me, I would basically be that weird kid, eating paste in the corner.

But the bottom line to this small tribute to my mother is that, at the end of the day, knowing that she is in my corner is what allows me to continue on to the next day. Her love and approval is what I seek more than anything in my life, with everything I do. If it weren't for the truly great women that I call my mom, there is little that I would be able to accomplish. What I am trying to say, as always, with too many words is, Mom, I love you. Pretty much more than anything. And happy birthday :)

P.S. Because in my heart and with my mouth, I could never say it enough, thank you.

Yikes!

My.Allergies!!!!!

That is the highlight of my day and I'm thinking my week. I am currently incredibly incapacitated on my couch watching TV because there is a (sorry, this is gross) river of fluid flowing out of my nose, eyes, and mouth. It is disgusting and all because I had my windows down while driving around San Marcos. WHAT IS THAT? Anyway, it literally got so bad, I had to beg a friend to bring me lotioned tissues and benadryl because I was completely out of both and was afraid a sudden sneezing fit would be my demise if I attempted to drive. Therefore, I was on my death bed, using napkins against my poor nose and just wandering around my apartment, wondering about my bad luck.

So, complaining aside, I am very comfortably back in my apartment after a semi-smooth transition back to San Marcos after a long winter break. I say semi- because it was a very strange experience leaving home. Being the extremist that I am, I was torn by two emotions so strongly, it threw my off for a long time. Half of me was ecstatic, so excited about leaving, I had my suitcase packed a full week before I had to leave (which was more than a hassle as I had to keep pulling stuff out of it) while the other half was hesitant, unsure of the next few steps enough to make me want to stay not only in my house, but in my bed and attempt to hide from the world. Luckily, I seemed to have found a balance between the two extremes as I am very content, despite wanting to hack out my sinuses.

Of course, it wouldn't be my life without a healthy dose of stress. A particular stressful moment occurred this morning as I was finishing up packing, when I checked my e-mail, only to receive a message from the Registrar's office saying that I had been dropped from all of my classes, due to lack of payment. I immediately panicked, checked everything I could, only to find that I had in fact paid (which I knew I had). Nonetheless, I was stilled dropped from my classes and pretty much stuck. After approximately 4 minutes of mad internet searching, one crazed phone call and a desperate email response, I just calmly put it on the back burner, as there is nothing that can be done until Monday anyway. Besides that, I know that it will get fixed and since I wasn't that attached to any of my classes, I decided that this particular stressed out incident, which this morning seemed like a crash barrier, was more like a suburban speed bump and shouldn't give me an unnecessary headache. Of course, there was still a tightness in my chest and I still checked my email every 5 minutes to see if the Registrar had responded, but otherwise, I am become very zen about all of this. Can you believe it!?

Besides that, I am still fairly excited to start this semester despite its various hardships. Hah, again, my life seems to happen, as I will unfortunately have to start it without a good friend of mine who has decided to go to a different school, since it seems to be the easier, less stressful option. Which, in a word, sucks. This person helped me through a particular trouble involving another friend, a situation that has yet to be resolved, but now again I am on my own. As complicated as that seems, I still think it's for the best and most definitely happened for a reason, even if it's hard to see right about now. Regardless, the pleasure of starting fresh and new is alive and well in this allergy-ridden girl and I cannot wait to sit in my classes, even if I have no idea what they may be.

Okay, the benadryl is kicking in and my warm bed is calling, even if my nasal passages are protesting. I think it is time for me to head to sleep. I promise to update again soon, if my allergies haven't killed me yet. Love to all and prayers for even more :)

P.S. Don't worry. If you miss me, just remember that I miss you much, much more.