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.
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Thursday, October 21, 2010
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.
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.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
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?
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?
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
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.
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.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
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.
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?
-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?
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
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...
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...
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