Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Let it all go.

I realized today that I have been blogging for almost 10 years. I didn't realize it had been that long. According to my aunt, I started my first blog on teen open diary the day after I turned 14...hard to believe it's been that long! That website is now gone, as is my modblog. My live journal, however, lives on, as do my 3 previous blogger blogs. I spent a good chunk of today rereading through my old entries - its amazing how young I sounded.

While driving back from my interview today, my mother called me 9 times.
I caved. I talked to her.
I miss her. I'm tired of being mad. Apparently my sister made up most of the things she told me my mother said.
I don't know. I'm just tired of being angry, it takes too much energy. Anger is easy. Forgiveness is harder.
I'm working on it. I'm trying. I feel a lot more at ease then I have in a while.
Are things perfect? no. Can I forget everything that has happened in the past few years? no.
But can I forgive?
tonight, at least, I can forgive.

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Profound thought of the day:

"A good friend is a connection to life - a tie to the past,
a road to the future, the key to sanity in a totally insane world."
- Lois Wyse

One of my college roommates had this posted as her away message on aim today.
I miss her. I miss all of them. I miss the craziness of the 300 Zoo and the awesome year that we all lived together. It was senior year of college, and we knew the end of life as we knew it was in sight. (Yes, it sounds dramatic, but when something as significant as college graduation is coming, it IS dramatic) We drank too much, skipped class too often, laughed way too loud and made too many memories to name. It was the perfect senior year. The best way to end college. We were the 4 O's and J, plus Rosie and Posie. The 4 of us who spent the summer at 300 had a special bond - one we thought would last forever.
It didn't. M and C stopped speaking to me and K - and although C and I are talking again, a little, it's nothing like it was. I miss them both more than I can describe. K and I talk about it a lot. We had one of those friendships where we were one unit. We knew where the other 3 were at every time - and we were always laughing. No drama. A lot of laughter.
I miss it.
Most of the time they were simple things - the night that J and K got into a fight, M and her bf had just broken up, my crush decided I wasn't good enough and C had some family drama going on - we watched sad episodes of Grey's and cried together.
Or those awesome summer nights when we had the music blasting on our porch and we danced, beers in hand. And when school started serenading drunken freshman...for the fun of it. We had prime freshman watching land - right on the corner near the freshman dorms and smack dab in the middle of the party street.
Or the late nights playing drunk bus and laughing hysterically at M for insisting she wasn't drunk.

The memories, to anyone else, would seem unimportant, completely insignificant. But when you really look at them, they are what true friendships are made of.

Monday, September 28, 2009

Avoidance should really be my middle name.

I'm a true procrastinator in every sense of the word. I put things off until the last possible minute, every time, never fail. It's how I deal with confrontation.

I avoid avoid avoid. The messy bathroom? been messy for over a week. The books the cat knocked off the book shelf last week? still on the floor. The pile of clothes? Sitting across the room from the laundry basket. Matilda's litter box? scooped it on Thursday.

Guy I've decided I don't want to talk to anymore? avoid. Bad hookup who wants to do it again? run the other way when I see him. Mother who's trying to get in touch with me? don't answer her 4 emails, 9 phones calls, 4 text messages and 2 wall posts to my facebook (although in my defense it's because i dont want to say something i will regret in 10 years)

I know it's a problem, and I know that I need to stop being such a wuss and grow a set. But I can't help but think about the times I've faced something head the mess referred to by my friends as the St. Patrick's Day Incident that Never Happened of 08. (oh yes, there is more than one SPDItNH..March 17th has never been my finest day..)

The week before St. Patty's Day, I met this guy, who we'll call WWIT*. Wwit was nice, albeit slightly dorky (just the way I like them) and better yet: socially awkward enough to make me the more outgoing party. We talked a little, and then I made the mistake of mentioning to one of my friends that I thought Wwit was slightly cute.
She told me that he was a good friend of hers, had never kissed a girl, and then ran off to organize the hookup. She always had a big mouth, damn her. There was no way I was hooking up with someone who had never kissed a girl at 22.
4 shots of tequila and 2 cherry bombs later, I decided that a kissing virgin was better than nothing and proceeded to talk to him for the rest of the night. A little after 2, I decided my roommate would be asleep and I could drag him home. We get up to my room, and all of the sudden I have to pee. I mumble something about having to pee, come downstairs and look in the mirror.
My hot and smokey eyes look a little smeared..ok more then a little. They look like raccoon eyes, and my face is bright red as it always is when I'm drunk. But really. I don't think he's in any position to complain and after my 6 month makeout dry spell, I really don't care. So I head back upstairs and pray hes as drunk as I am.
I open the door. He's naked. on my bed. at half mass.


I close the door, open it again, just to make sure I wasn't dreaming. And sure enough, there he is. still naked.
I can't help it. I start to laugh.
Apparently, this is offensive, as suddenly he's not even at half mass.
Wwit asks me if i'm always like this before sex.
I ask him if he always expects sex before any foreplay.
He asks me to define what I mean by foreplay.
I tell him to put his clothes on and i'll show him.
In my drunken state, this still seems doable.
He gets dressed and I attempt to makeout with him. He informs me that he doesn't enjoy kissing, but prefers to get right into other stuff and proceeds to start groping me.
And I think wow, he might not be into kissing, but he must have some inborn instinct about how to move his mouth around a boob.
And then the pants come off. And I suddenly have to pee again.
Go back downstairs, and pass out on the bathroom floor**
When I come back upstairs in the morning, he's gone.
It's a fairly small campus, but fortunately for me I never see Wwit on campus since he is a business major and never has classes in the Humanities and Life Science buildings. My friend who originally introduced us told me that he had a great time and wants to do it again. I am completely flabbergasted. WTF? Is he INSANE? Or did he time-travel and assume that I am the owner of his v-card?

The next weekend, St. Patty's Day weekend. Kegs and eggs at the college bar, a pastime at my school. My roommates and I manage to get a table, and are sitting there when Wwit comes in with his friends. I quickly hide under the table. Avoidance #1 is successful, he doesn't see me.

Later that day, we're on our porch doing Irish car bombs and drinking green beer*** when Wwit is walking down the street, again with his friends (later find out they are his roommates). I run into the house and stay hidden, hoping he has just kept walking by instead of stopping by to see if I'm home. Avoidance #2 is a success.

Later that night, at the bar. How we are still alive at this point, I do not know. I turn around and bump straight into Wwit.
He asks me if he can come over tonight.
I laugh at him and ask him if he is mentally disturbed, really naive, or if he is suffering from one night amnesia.
Apparently this is about as amusing as laughing at someone who is naked in your bed.
he tells me that he had a great time, until I passed out.
I inform him that I passed out because he was such a stud.
this sarcasm was not well received. by not well received, i mean he thought i was serious.
he informs me that if i enjoyed last weekend, i would enjoy tonight even more.
i double over in laughter.
he tells me laughter is not a turn on.
NEITHER ARE YOU, i yell. before puking on his shoes.****

*stands for what was i thinking.
**this may or may not have been done on purpose
***how exactly do they make it green? I try not to think about this....
****For the record, that was the second time in my entire life I have ever vomited while drinking. The first time I later found out that I had the stomach flu.

This is why I avoid. Confrontation does not suit me.

Book 1/60

1) Read 60 new books (1/60)

Milkrun by Sarah Mylnowski

The story of every single 20-something girl's life. It's like having a conversation with one of your best friends and yourself at the same time.

Sunday, September 27, 2009

Sunday Smiles

1) Spicy Guacamole with sour cream
2) Lizzie McGuire marathon on Disney
3) Pomegranate Green tea
4) Adventureland
5) Buy 2 get 1 free book sales
6) a full tank of gas

.001 down, 100.998 to go!

51) Watch 25 new movies (1/25)

Watched The Hangover with K and Re yesterday. I think that may be the hardest I've ever laughed at a movie. Especially the end credits.

I talked to my sister Bex yesterday. October 19th I will find out whether I am having a niece or nephew!!!
And she also told me that when my brother was still groggy and coming out of anesthesia the other day after his emergency surgery, that he was crying for Mommy. I really wish I had the capability to hate her for that.
I also informed Mikey that if he EVER scares me like that again, I will kill him.

Saturday, September 26, 2009

high school?

Last night, for the first time in the 5 years and however many months since I graduated high school, I missed high school. Or I felt nostalgic for it...slight difference.
My Big coaches cheerleading at her alma mater. K and I went to watch the cheerleaders since it was homecoming. All around us the high schoolers are decked out in their black and red, cheering, the cheerleaders are yelling and the band is playing.
It made me miss colorguard. Standing in the bleachers yelling "GO WEST GO." Spinning my rifle out on the field and hearing the drummers start cadence. Getting to the school at 8 am on saturday mornings to get our hair braided. It made me miss the safety of high school, of knowing where you stood and who you were...or who you thought you were.

I've never had these pangs of nostalgia for HHW before. At graduation, all my friends and classmates crying and all I could think about was how much longer. Even when I first started college, I had already put high school behind me. I'm used to missing college - high school not so much. Not that I despised high school (the way I hated middle school). I actually enjoyed most of high school, especially my senior year, but i didn't have that love for it that most people have. I was always looking forward to college, I always knew the best was yet to come.

Friday, September 25, 2009

mama drama

I've always hesitated to blog about my mother. She's different now than the woman who raised me - in fact I can hardly find any similarities in the two at all. So I don't like to blog about her because to be quite honest I don't want the whole world thinking that badly of my mother, and thinking that i'm the miracle who got through it all ok (as my friends like to put it) because the fact is - she raised me to be the way I am. She wasn't ANYTHING like the person she is now, and to be quite honest it terrifies me.
She's going through what I would call a "mid-life crisis" if I was being kind, but if I were to tell the truth I'd say it was more like she's going through a complete mental breakdown/satanic possession. It started a few years ago, when her and my stepdad divorced.
She started sleeping around, ignoring my younger siblings who were still at home - except for Bex, who at 17 she started taking to the bars with her. We stopped talking as much, because to be honest I couldn't really take her like that. Although, it's nothing like that anymore. It's worse.
A few years ago, I came home and was "greeted" on the porch by a man who I had never met. I walked up to the porch, bags behind me.
"who are you?" he asked.
"I'm tee's daughter," I said.
"no you're not"
"uhhh yes I am."
"no, tee has two kids, bex and aj"
"umm actually she has 5. and i'm the oldest"
"no, she has two. she told me so herself."
"well she was lying because SHE IS MY MOTHER."
"are you sure?"
"I think I know who my mother is."
Now, mind you, my mom only gave birth to three of us - me, bex and AJ. Mandy and Mikey are my stepdad's children, who she raised as her own, who she raised us to call our brother and sister. (I got my butt beat for calling Mandy my stepsister once).
So, my mom has moved to florida, bex has gotten herself pregnant, and NO ONE in the family is talking to her for a multitude of reasons, too numerous to name here. But, she has continued to disown Mikey and Mandy, telling the she hates them and she never loved them, etc. Mikey, especially has taken it hard because she is the only mother who he has ever known. It KILLS me that she is doing this.
Anyway, a few nights ago, Mikey, in a fit of rage, punched something with glass in it, sliced and artery in his arm and tore quite a bit of ligament/muscle. His dad, after he calls 911, called my aunt and sister (I'm about 3 hours away from home in PA). The three of them spend all day/night at the hospital with him, through a surgery, etc. Dr. isn't sure if he is going to regain full use of his hand, only time will tell. But that's not the point.
The point is that my MOTHER called Bex and gave her HELL for sitting at the hospital with him. Had her in HYSTERICS. Told her she was going to get the whole family to turn against her, that she despised her.
WTF. I can't even comment on her right now. I haven't spoken to her since March, but I honestly want to call her and give her a piece of that hell right now, but it's just not worth it.

I keep telling myself she will come around eventually. And hopefully, when that time comes, it won't be too late to undo the damage she has done.

Unfortunately, I think it's already too late for that.

Thursday, September 24, 2009

Are there few things...

that a day with your best friends can't fix? Is there anything a day with your friends can't fix? B, K and I spent the whole day watching movies. And we went to the castle park (a huge playground with old-fashioned wooden structures), stalked out our sorority sisters on campus and went out for sushi.
I felt so much better in so many ways. I wasn't stressing out about money issues, or family issues (even though a few more did in fact pop up today) or the daunting job hunt. I just enjoyed spending time with two of my favorite people.

My cousin Ar asked me if they were my best friends now instead of B. And I really thought about it. Are they? It's true, when I'm in crisis I turn to them first. They're the people i hang out with most, and i talked to each of them daily. Have they replaced B as my best friend?
I guess on the surface that's what it seems like, but the truth is it's really more complicated than that. When you're a child, it's black and white, you have your best friend, you have your other friends. As an adult, it's gets more complicated. I have my best friend since high school, I have my best friends from college, and they are important to me in different ways.

The lambdas...We've changed a lot in the 3 years the 5 of us have been friends. Our friendship has changed a lot, but the core of it is still there. We've been to Hell and back together, and I can't really think of anyone who I have ever been more comfortable around. We're completely honest with each other, to the point of brutality sometimes. We laugh way too loud and always seem to cause a bit of trouble where ever we go...but that's what makes us, us.

Misc. ramblings

Glee may quite possibly upstage Gilmore Girls as my favorite show. Why didn't any of my high school teachers look like Shuseter? (and for that matter, why didn't our football players look like Fin?)
It's a tough call between The Beautiful Life (can we say BEN HOLLINGSWORTH) and Glee...but in the end, Glee won out because it's got more than eye candy.

Does anyone know anything about Kitty separation anxiety? Becuase I think Matilda definitely jumps in the shower with me, snuggles while im in the bathroom and generally won't leave me alone.

It's recruitment time at York College, and seeing everyone's "I LOVE PHI SIG" posts has been depressing me. just a bit. This is the second year i haven't been there for it all, but the daily messages from my grandlittle keep me enough in the loop to still miss it. Although, after this year, pretty much everyone who was there with me will be gone. But it makes no matter.
I still miss it.

Friday, September 18, 2009

Text Sex?

I despise talking on the phone. I sound like a 5 year old, I’m bad at making conversation, and to be quite honest just find the whole ordeal of telephone conversations to be awkward. Then cell phones come out. And the text message right along with it. And suddenly phone-phobes like me have a way around it! The TEXT, you heavenly function you. No longer must we make awkward conversation with people we don’t want to talk to! The phone rings, you leave a voicemail. I text you back. We text. Happy ending for all. Same goes for sex.

Wait. Sex? Text Sex?

Yup, it’s true, Text Sex. Sext. what ever you wish to call it is apparently taking over the world. While talking to BikerBoy last night, he informs me that he is “hard as a rock while thinking of doing me.” Am I the only one who finds it completely strange? That you are typing these messages of hot steamy moments you desire, sending them out, over wavelengths or however text messages travel, only to be recieved in the phone of (hopefully) the one you are desiring, hoping that they are alone?

Is that considered sexy?

And more importantly, is sext a downgrade or an upgrade from phone sex?

Maybe i’m in the minority here, but I don’t find anything sexy about it. It doesn’t turn me on. It doesn’t make me want to run to your house and jump into your bed. In fact, it makes me feel slightly skeevy. Especially since we haven’t even met. but even then.

God willing, when Mr. Right (now or forever, i’m not picky) his idea of foreplay and/or romance will be more than a couple of raunchy text messages.

Thursday, September 17, 2009

The Plan

The best way I know to change something you despise about yourself is to just do it. Now unfortunately, my many qualms with my body and looks won’t go away over night, and that is what I consider to be the source of much of my unhappiness.

You see, my senior year of college, I decided I was sick of being the “fat one.” So I decided to lose weight and I did, 65 pounds in 9 months. I dropped multiple sizes, and though the curves I desire didn’t show up, I was content with how I looked semi-naked.

And then I moved home.

And I gained back the whole 65 that I lost…And I am as miserable as ever.

So i’ve decided it’s time to say good bye to the pudge for good. (hopefully.)

Before I turn 24, I WILL relose the 65 I’ve regained PLUS another 20.

all leading me to the ultimate goal of finding The One and losing my virginity.

although it doesn’t necessarily have to be in that order.

Just saying.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Reality? No Check...

When I was 10, I wrote a letter to myself, to be read when I turned 21. I figured, according to my calculations, that I would be just graduating college (that mythical place that I always dreamed about) and my life as a real person would begin. I wrote it, thinking that I would never forget about it. But I did and 21 came and went, with out me reading this very important letter addressed to “Ms. Grown-up Girl.”
But shortly before my 23rd birthday, I stumbled across it in a stack of old report cards and other forgotten papers. I read it. And it sent me into a tizzy. At 10, when I pictured my 20s, I saw myself married, with children, and a job that I loved. I even included pictures cut from my American Girl Magazine and Teen Beat of the things that I would have in my life. What my husband would look like, what my kids would look like.
What a dreamer.
Clearly, at 10, 21 is a lot older than it actually is. However, reading the thoughts of my 10 year old self with 23 year old eyes, I couldn’t help but wonder how I ended up here, so far away from who I wanted to be. No boyfriend, no dream job, and definitely no kids. It seemed like I had moved home after graduation and put my life on pause for a while, although I guess time never got the memo.
And so, I took action. Since turning 23 two months ago, I’ve:
applied to graduate school
quit my job
been unable to start said graduate school
relocated 3 hours away from my family anyway
continued to job hunt in this craptastic economy
gone on more bad first dates than I ever thought possible.

…in that order.

Not to mention that I:
haven’t had a real relationship since high school
am unqualified for any job that a really want
and have come to accept that I am not the heinous creature i’ve always seen when i looked in the mirror, but still hate my boxy pot-bellied curveless body anyway

oh, and the clincher? at 23, I have yet to lose my virginity. a real sore spot in my side. Probably one of the things that bothers me most in life.

This has to change. I need to hit the play button back on my life. These are supposed to be some of the best years of my life, and I am squandering them away while I wait for life to sweep me up.

And thus has begun what I have dubbed my pre-quarterlife crisis.