So I was babysitting earlier and flipping through the third grader's agenda book for school. I counted the weeks until my finals. It's 6 weeks. A month and a half until my junior year is over. Holy moly.
Basically, I have a freaking lot of work to do before then. I know it's like a broken record, but I am shocked, shocked! at how quickly this semester flew by. I blame myself. Let me break it down. For Monday-Thursday, I am nose to the grindstone, non-stop with school, clubs, and church. Between meetings, projects and just all around madness, I'm rarely one of those "thank goodness for the weekend" types. My week just goes by too quickly for me to notice the time. From Thursday to Sunday, my time is filled with work. Babysitting, house sitting, anything really that will make me a little cash to put towards my Australia fund, rent, and you know, food and stuff. Honestly, it leaves little time for play, but I am loving it all so much that I don't mind.
So yeah, I guess looking back it makes sense that it went by so quickly. Still. It's difficult not to be a little crazed at how quickly it's flying by. Plus, there are so many huge hurdles to pass in the next 6 weeks that I'm overwhelmed, not just with stress but with nerves and excitement, too. My birthday and Australia meetings just to name a few, they mark time in such a way that I am too eager and too scared simultaneously because of them.
Time keeps going much too quickly as usual and the things I look forward to the most are rushing the fastest. Things I almost never thought would happen, like my 21st birthday, are happening. My days getting busier and my weeks fly by, and I am left with a very happy life full of things I love. Although I feel nostalgic for what has happened in the past few months, years and even farther back, I love the feeling of flipping the pages of a calender and wondering what will come next.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Yellow Brick Road
It's really quite comical sometimes, what an anomaly I am. Oh, well, here we go.
First of all, it is official. I am going on the Australia program with the school in June. I mean, there's technically still room to back out, but I would lose a lot of money. Plus, there is not one tiny portion of me that doesn't want this. Every single day that gets me closer to it, I get shivers of excitement. Literally, I cannot feel my elbows right now because I'm so excited. Typical, right? Well, let me explain what makes me an anomaly.
I am a terrible traveler. Honestly, I'd even go so far as to say I hate it. Ever since I've been slightly in charge of my own travels (which, sadly, have been very sparse) I suck at it. I get so unbelievable anxious and stressed, months in advance. Before I went on my UK trip, I used to have these crazy, vivid nightmares that I'd show up in London, completely alone and without a suitcase or money. I just can't help thinking about the worst possible outcomes over and over in my head. And I love not traveling, too. Like this spring break, I'm so excited because I'm house-sitting and get to do nothing. Despite this, I still overpacked, bringing enough outfits and stuff for 3 weeks instead of one. Of course, if I did travel more, I'd probably get over it, but there is still this insane inability to cope and adapt to any situation. With everything else in my life, I try so hard to be easy-going and go with the flow, even if I'm upset (which usually fails). With traveling, I have no desire to change how I am. Again, I can count how many times I've left Texas on a trip in the last five years on one hand, but still. I freakishly like it that way.
But, despite all of this, I want it, I want it so badly. I want to be able to say, "Australia? Oh, yes I've been there. Sydney is beautiful in the summer." I mean, I haven't been to France or Italy or Spain, the usual places kids my age go, but I will, eventually. The truly ironic part is I always said I could do without going Australia. But now...it feels so right, I'm so convicted, I couldn't imagine anywhere else. So despite my deep-seeded doubts about travel in itself, I know this will be everything I want and everything I never knew I could want.
So as I go through the unbelievably terrifying process of getting a loan for the trip, I hold onto this and keep making lists, endless lists about what to bring, what to buy, what to do before and during. I count down the months and weeks until I leave and then have a panic attack, as it's only 3 months. I stress about money, I stress about leaving, I stress about what's happening with the actual program (oh yeah, still an off chance it could get canceled...but, whatever). Perhaps I always will be a terrible traveler, but that's just something I have, whatever. It's like how I hate corn or can't stop watching Gilmore Girls; it's just who I am. Oh, well, anomaly forever.
First of all, it is official. I am going on the Australia program with the school in June. I mean, there's technically still room to back out, but I would lose a lot of money. Plus, there is not one tiny portion of me that doesn't want this. Every single day that gets me closer to it, I get shivers of excitement. Literally, I cannot feel my elbows right now because I'm so excited. Typical, right? Well, let me explain what makes me an anomaly.
I am a terrible traveler. Honestly, I'd even go so far as to say I hate it. Ever since I've been slightly in charge of my own travels (which, sadly, have been very sparse) I suck at it. I get so unbelievable anxious and stressed, months in advance. Before I went on my UK trip, I used to have these crazy, vivid nightmares that I'd show up in London, completely alone and without a suitcase or money. I just can't help thinking about the worst possible outcomes over and over in my head. And I love not traveling, too. Like this spring break, I'm so excited because I'm house-sitting and get to do nothing. Despite this, I still overpacked, bringing enough outfits and stuff for 3 weeks instead of one. Of course, if I did travel more, I'd probably get over it, but there is still this insane inability to cope and adapt to any situation. With everything else in my life, I try so hard to be easy-going and go with the flow, even if I'm upset (which usually fails). With traveling, I have no desire to change how I am. Again, I can count how many times I've left Texas on a trip in the last five years on one hand, but still. I freakishly like it that way.
But, despite all of this, I want it, I want it so badly. I want to be able to say, "Australia? Oh, yes I've been there. Sydney is beautiful in the summer." I mean, I haven't been to France or Italy or Spain, the usual places kids my age go, but I will, eventually. The truly ironic part is I always said I could do without going Australia. But now...it feels so right, I'm so convicted, I couldn't imagine anywhere else. So despite my deep-seeded doubts about travel in itself, I know this will be everything I want and everything I never knew I could want.
So as I go through the unbelievably terrifying process of getting a loan for the trip, I hold onto this and keep making lists, endless lists about what to bring, what to buy, what to do before and during. I count down the months and weeks until I leave and then have a panic attack, as it's only 3 months. I stress about money, I stress about leaving, I stress about what's happening with the actual program (oh yeah, still an off chance it could get canceled...but, whatever). Perhaps I always will be a terrible traveler, but that's just something I have, whatever. It's like how I hate corn or can't stop watching Gilmore Girls; it's just who I am. Oh, well, anomaly forever.
Monday, February 14, 2011
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
This is for me.
So I'm re-reading my blog posts from this past year (and being completely horrified, since my professional writing class has taught me a lot about proper writing) and liked the one entry I did on the classes I took last semester. I want to do another, so I can remember it for years to come.
Spanish III: Honestly, the biggest joke of my life. The professor is from Spain and doesn't speak English very well, but it bothers her to speak Spanish slowly, so she ends up teaching in English. Which is incredibly helpful. Anyway, it's legitimately funny. I end up giggling at the silly things she has us go around the room saying (today, it was 'tengo las bananas, yo las tengo). 8 a.m. has never been so hilarious.
Public Speaking: For some reason, I'm always in a bad mood in this class. I think the professor just gives me bad vibes or something and I'm usually too snappy to really speak up, which is a bad thing for a public speaking class. Still unsure how this will commence but I've heard he's an easy grader.
Editing: Eh, it's mostly busy work but I'm learning a lot about publishing and editors. It's not so much on the grammar side, which is a bummer because I wasn't ever really taught the rules. The teacher is kind of a flake, too but easy to ignore. Basically, it's interesting material, but a rather boring class.
Professional Writing: this one will be a toughie. The professor is a very hard grader, but it's because she's so good at what she does. She is absolutely brilliant on all rules regarding writing and really just knows her stuff all around. Again, mostly busy work, but I actually try pretty hard to get a good grade.
Small Group: will be the death of me. I love the class, absolutely, but it's tough stuff. I know the professor pretty well, she's the advisor for Comm Club, and I adore her. The thing is, we only have 5 big projects, that we have to do in groups she assigned the first week. It's sort of the scariest thing in the world to count so heavily on 4 other people, but we'll see how this turns out. So far, though, it's my favorite class.
Okay, just wanted that for years to come. Goodnight!
Spanish III: Honestly, the biggest joke of my life. The professor is from Spain and doesn't speak English very well, but it bothers her to speak Spanish slowly, so she ends up teaching in English. Which is incredibly helpful. Anyway, it's legitimately funny. I end up giggling at the silly things she has us go around the room saying (today, it was 'tengo las bananas, yo las tengo). 8 a.m. has never been so hilarious.
Public Speaking: For some reason, I'm always in a bad mood in this class. I think the professor just gives me bad vibes or something and I'm usually too snappy to really speak up, which is a bad thing for a public speaking class. Still unsure how this will commence but I've heard he's an easy grader.
Editing: Eh, it's mostly busy work but I'm learning a lot about publishing and editors. It's not so much on the grammar side, which is a bummer because I wasn't ever really taught the rules. The teacher is kind of a flake, too but easy to ignore. Basically, it's interesting material, but a rather boring class.
Professional Writing: this one will be a toughie. The professor is a very hard grader, but it's because she's so good at what she does. She is absolutely brilliant on all rules regarding writing and really just knows her stuff all around. Again, mostly busy work, but I actually try pretty hard to get a good grade.
Small Group: will be the death of me. I love the class, absolutely, but it's tough stuff. I know the professor pretty well, she's the advisor for Comm Club, and I adore her. The thing is, we only have 5 big projects, that we have to do in groups she assigned the first week. It's sort of the scariest thing in the world to count so heavily on 4 other people, but we'll see how this turns out. So far, though, it's my favorite class.
Okay, just wanted that for years to come. Goodnight!
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Life is like...
A ball of yarn. I figured if I put that as a full title, no one would read this at all. Gotcha!
For those of you who don't know, I have taken up knitting. The scarf I started a solid month ago is starting to look more like a blanket than a scarf, but it's something to do. Plus, a part of the process that I weirdly enjoy is taking the big thing of yarn they sell you (yeah, the professional term) and rolling it into a tight ball that's easier to use and tote around to various activities. Well, today marked the absolute most frustrating time I have ever had with yarn. It's not saying much, but it says enough.
I took the beautiful cream colored yarn I purchased with my wonderful mother on Friday and started to quickly unravel it so I could pull it into a ball. Yes, a very boring process, you might think, but satisfying as well. Then, I literally hit a snag. I tried to take the easy way out and just pull it all at once. Apparently, yarn doesn't like that. I got the queen of all knots. It took me an hour to make it into the queen of all queens. My fingers were itching towards the scissors, desperate for anything to end the knot. But, I didn't want to waste a whole thing of yarn. So I kept on. Finally, I had to legitimately leave my apartment and go to the grocery store because I was ready to throw the whole thing out the window. I came back and went back to it. 2 hours later, I could see the end of the knot, a possible way out. 30 minutes after that, fingers sore and mind frazzled, I had this:

Okay, so that could possibly be the longest story about yarn of all time, but as I sat on the couch, hunched over the largest knot in all creation, I realized that this stupid yarn with its knots, is like my life.
It is full of problems (knots), just basic tangles that make up my life. Stress from school, drama with friends, and just all around madness that pull me in 18 different directions until I am so wound up, I am useless and frustrating. It takes time for me to pull back, take some time for myself, maybe even leave for a bit, before I can come back and really tackle what's in front of me. It's hard to do, especially for someone who is used to taking the easy way out only to find herself in a much more difficult situation. To work so hard at something, even if it's something as pointless as yarn, is the most demanding thing anyone could face.
Now, yes, that is a mixed metaphor. Am I the yarn or am I the person pulling apart the yarn? I'd say both, only because I don't want to go back and change it. The bottom line is that sometimes, all it takes is the smallest snag to send me into a whirlwind of trouble. Occasionally, I just need to slow down, not watch the Superbowl, and make some pudding.

Okay, realizations, yarn, metaphors over, life can just be a bunch of nuts sometimes and the tough part is figuring out how to deal. I hope you can appreciate that from one of the nuttiest nuts of all. Thanks.
P.S. Yikes, I can't believe you actually read all that.
For those of you who don't know, I have taken up knitting. The scarf I started a solid month ago is starting to look more like a blanket than a scarf, but it's something to do. Plus, a part of the process that I weirdly enjoy is taking the big thing of yarn they sell you (yeah, the professional term) and rolling it into a tight ball that's easier to use and tote around to various activities. Well, today marked the absolute most frustrating time I have ever had with yarn. It's not saying much, but it says enough.
I took the beautiful cream colored yarn I purchased with my wonderful mother on Friday and started to quickly unravel it so I could pull it into a ball. Yes, a very boring process, you might think, but satisfying as well. Then, I literally hit a snag. I tried to take the easy way out and just pull it all at once. Apparently, yarn doesn't like that. I got the queen of all knots. It took me an hour to make it into the queen of all queens. My fingers were itching towards the scissors, desperate for anything to end the knot. But, I didn't want to waste a whole thing of yarn. So I kept on. Finally, I had to legitimately leave my apartment and go to the grocery store because I was ready to throw the whole thing out the window. I came back and went back to it. 2 hours later, I could see the end of the knot, a possible way out. 30 minutes after that, fingers sore and mind frazzled, I had this:

Okay, so that could possibly be the longest story about yarn of all time, but as I sat on the couch, hunched over the largest knot in all creation, I realized that this stupid yarn with its knots, is like my life.
It is full of problems (knots), just basic tangles that make up my life. Stress from school, drama with friends, and just all around madness that pull me in 18 different directions until I am so wound up, I am useless and frustrating. It takes time for me to pull back, take some time for myself, maybe even leave for a bit, before I can come back and really tackle what's in front of me. It's hard to do, especially for someone who is used to taking the easy way out only to find herself in a much more difficult situation. To work so hard at something, even if it's something as pointless as yarn, is the most demanding thing anyone could face.
Now, yes, that is a mixed metaphor. Am I the yarn or am I the person pulling apart the yarn? I'd say both, only because I don't want to go back and change it. The bottom line is that sometimes, all it takes is the smallest snag to send me into a whirlwind of trouble. Occasionally, I just need to slow down, not watch the Superbowl, and make some pudding.

Okay, realizations, yarn, metaphors over, life can just be a bunch of nuts sometimes and the tough part is figuring out how to deal. I hope you can appreciate that from one of the nuttiest nuts of all. Thanks.
P.S. Yikes, I can't believe you actually read all that.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
I can haz birfday?
Sunday, January 16, 2011
I'm so impressionable.
Sorry for this post, blame the weather and lack of society in my life right now.
Okay, so I just watched the Social Network, which is freaking good as all get out, it deserves all awards. And of course, as soon as the credits started to scroll, I panicked.
Why don't I have that kind of talent? How can this kid, who was younger than me when he created it, have this ability to create something that I log on to at least once a day? He knows computers and codes and websites and so much more and I know...books? Jeez, I feel like I can't even say that because I had to rewind and put on subtitles for the Jabberwocky allusion that he so brilliantly mocked.
I've always shouldered the grief given to me for having a pretty pointless major. The immediate question of if I'll be a teacher once I graduate, because honestly that is all you can with an English degree. I've even felt a little smarmy and superior because my major is intellectual and complicated (yeah, I know) and these people who ask me those inane questions just don't understand. But then there are people like Mark Zuckerber, who drunkenly creates a website, works hard for a few months and then becomes a billionaire, all because he was good at programming and had an idea. Why don't I have that brain power?
Okay, it's more than just the money thing. I honestly marvel at things like computers and technology all the time. Not even that, basically anything that I'm not a particular connoisseur of, I am flabbergasted about. Science, math, history, medicine, even English at times leave me all with a sense of idiotic wonderment. Perhaps that's why I've developed a pretentious attitude towards anyone who pastes a smile on their face when I say English as my major. Really, I just totally get it.
Phew. Sorry. I just needed to get that little rant out of my system. No doubt I'll start classes and wholeheartedly remember why is Literature is so much better than everything else and all will be well in Who-ville. Anyway, I think everyone should watch the Social Network. It's excellent.
Okay, so I just watched the Social Network, which is freaking good as all get out, it deserves all awards. And of course, as soon as the credits started to scroll, I panicked.
Why don't I have that kind of talent? How can this kid, who was younger than me when he created it, have this ability to create something that I log on to at least once a day? He knows computers and codes and websites and so much more and I know...books? Jeez, I feel like I can't even say that because I had to rewind and put on subtitles for the Jabberwocky allusion that he so brilliantly mocked.
I've always shouldered the grief given to me for having a pretty pointless major. The immediate question of if I'll be a teacher once I graduate, because honestly that is all you can with an English degree. I've even felt a little smarmy and superior because my major is intellectual and complicated (yeah, I know) and these people who ask me those inane questions just don't understand. But then there are people like Mark Zuckerber, who drunkenly creates a website, works hard for a few months and then becomes a billionaire, all because he was good at programming and had an idea. Why don't I have that brain power?
Okay, it's more than just the money thing. I honestly marvel at things like computers and technology all the time. Not even that, basically anything that I'm not a particular connoisseur of, I am flabbergasted about. Science, math, history, medicine, even English at times leave me all with a sense of idiotic wonderment. Perhaps that's why I've developed a pretentious attitude towards anyone who pastes a smile on their face when I say English as my major. Really, I just totally get it.
Phew. Sorry. I just needed to get that little rant out of my system. No doubt I'll start classes and wholeheartedly remember why is Literature is so much better than everything else and all will be well in Who-ville. Anyway, I think everyone should watch the Social Network. It's excellent.
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