Hair Chalk and Real Talk

My dad thought it would be brilliant to buy me hair chalk...
blue looks pretty smashing on him I think:)

Fucking love birds we are.

Making faces like it's our job.

My mom and dad pretending we actually took this picture on Christmas.

And my boyfriend let me hair-chalk him a green mohawk because he's the best.  He's also very photogenic.  It's annoying.

The "D" Word

Almost two weeks ago I went to visit the doctor.  I hadn't been in a while and I needed to set up with a steady doctor who wasn't a pediatrician, so I thought I'd go ahead with it while I was on Christmas break.  Physically I'm totally fine, I hardly ever get sick, and I don't think I have any life threatening illnesses.
However, I'm slightly OCD and anxious.  I've had a few panic attacks, heart palpitations and add that into my new mood swings, and constant crying...I knew something was up.  I just hate admitting things like that.  I always want to be in complete control of myself, I don't want any help, much less any medication.
They had me fill out a form about my "feelings."  Like, "I feel this often," or, "I never feel this" and while looking at it I busted into tears - a complete fit really.  It was totally fucking embarrassing.
So you're looking at a newly diagnosed depressed young woman.  It's awesome.  However, I've been on medicine and I feel so much better.  I've only cried twice!  And once was because of a movie! haha.  We'll see how things go when school starts back up and I pile more things onto my plate.  With 18 credit hours, a part time job, and a boyfriend I just hope I can juggle as well as become a magician.  Turning chainsaws into doves can't be that hard, right?  Maybe I'll up my dose...
(kidding, haha)



Besides that I have SO MUCH to catch up on.  I signed for an apartment recently, my family gave my boyfriend 600 dollars, my new years resolutions, my (very decent if I must say) grades, and my recent Christmas adventures in North Carolina.  I'll probably have new years stuff too.  Man, I'm behind.
I'll at least post a few pictures on here to I don't feel so lame, haha.

Stoner Nation

I'm so tired of the sexy spin that my generation has put on smoking pot.  Tumblr, google, pinterest, anywhere on the internet you can find a picture of some ripped guy and a half naked girl taking a bong rip and it's completely unrealistic.  Smoke tricks are more important than the last book you read, and just about every song or Hollywood star has something to say about it.
The reality is that if you're a smoker, you can't piss clean.  You can't get a job, you can't get a gym membership to look that hot, so you definitely can't get a hot girl.  I know a fuck ton of stoners, and none of them are that stereotype.  My boyfriend, my parents, and at least half of my best friends all smoke pot.  I don't personally have a taste for it (it makes me "weird") but I'm around it often, and yeah I'll take a hit or two every once in a while.
The difference between me and my friends who smoke, is that I feel bad for not smoking.  It's an oddity.  Society has made it so that pot is so fucking cool, that I'm strange for being disinterested.  To me, the war against pot has about 20 years, tops, left in it.  When my generation and the generation after us gets a hold of it, smoking won't even be a question.
But let me make this clear: smoking isn't sexy.  Getting baked isn't a turn on, and having the best bud won't get you in my pants.  If anything, I hear girls who are annoyed at the amount their boyfriend smokes (myself included).  If you're too stoned to drive to the movies at the actual speed limit, if you're spending too much on pot to at least split the bill, then you're just an effect of the stoner nation.  Congrats.

How The Media Failed Women in 2013

In multiple classes and even for a few papers, I have written about the way women are represented in the media.  I see it as one of the biggest obstacles and social problems of our time.  As a woman, I'm offended, I'm angry, and I'm fighting to break free of the norms that have been embedded in me by society.  This group, Miss Representation, is basically doing the most amazing thing ever by putting it in your face.  You see an ad here or there, you don't think much of it.  But when they're compiled (and let me tell you, they didn't even cover all of it) you can't turn away.  Women need to know that they've been trained to see themselves as objects, that we're trained to think we aren't capable of leading, that we need to be pretty to be smart, and that it's normal and "healthy" to be so skinny.

Watch, learn, and share.

Two Months Shy of Forever

I'm 20, I don't think I did a birthday post this year, but it's important that you know that I'm sitting here on the very cusp of my 20's, eager to see what lays before me.  I also have a boyfriend and I've posted a good bit of pictures on here of us in case you need a face to match to the stories.  We've been dating a little over 5 months (not very long, yet forever at the same time) and his 25th birthday is in January.
Excuse me while I panic, but he sees me as his forever.  Like, those words pretty much came out of his mouth.  Worse, "marriage" came out of his mouth.
I can't even explain how panicked that makes me feel, and even just a little caged in.  Yet it's totally endearing at the same time.  I'm not upset, I'm just marveling at the fact that someone thinks they can put up with my shit 24/7.
Also, I'm ready to live on my own, pay rent, and be an adult...but I'm not ready to be that kind of adult.  In the mean time, I'll enjoy my boyfriend and try not to think about how absolutely bat shit crazy he must be.

xoxo

The Way of Subs

So I finally got a job!  After about 3 or 4 months of talking about it, I'm once again a part of the work force.  Thank you Subway!
Minimum wage, but still getting paid.  And just in time to save up for Christmas and New Orleans<3 p="">

Halloweenie

I really feel like Halloween has been dragged out this year for me.  I've gone to a haunted house, then to Scare Fest at Kings Dominion (which included 3 more haunted houses), and a Halloween party last weekend.  AND IT'S ONLY JUST NOW HALLOWEEN.
I just don't normally do so much, haha.
So I thought I'd post some pictures from last weekend so you could see my costume, a super hero.  I was going to try for The Black Widow, but that failed epically, so I got a cape and a mask and this is what happened.  I'm not much for sexy, but I do think Halloween gives the opportunity  to look hot and a little weird, without any judgement.  Although next year I think I want to try the scary side of things.... :)

Power Ranger, Me, Burlesque, and...you know, "normal."

My Zombie Killer

Wolverene's ginger cousin

A Sigh of Relief

Last night was the first really good night that I've had since I've come back to school this year.  I've gone out, I've drank a little, but it wasn't...right. Cliche', I know, but I don't know how else to describe it.  With losing a friend and having to re-assimilate, I just felt like I was walking around with a big hole in my chest.
It had a lot to do with the fight I got into with our "group" last year.  It was stupid, I can't even explain what it was about, but it got me "permanently uninvited."  So to add insult to injury, the whole group of people I spent time with last year was also missing from my life.
Well last night, Brittany and I went to their house just to say hi because we were partying just a few houses up the street.  It was the best thing we could have done.  We were welcomed back with open arms, smiles, and a lot of forgiveness.  The guy who kicked me out and I got a chance to talk alone.  We talked about the fight, Rachel, and regrets.  It was so amazing, because I know it's the place and the people I should've been hanging out with all along, but I was too stubborn to try without a personal invite.  And I know Rachel would be so happy to see us all talking again.
I know that some of the looks I got last night were pity, but they were with good intentions, so it's okay.  I'm just happy that I'm no longer excluded from people who's company I enjoyed so much before.  I'm actually crying as I write this, but I smile every time I look at the picture we got last night.  It really shows how happy we were to see each other again.  Can't fake smiles like those, haha.

Foreign Like A God

The words are alien,
Salty in my mouth
And when I roll my tongue back,
The sea and fish pour out.

The waves crest,
A powerful unrest,
It started when the sandman rang,
Gently thieving youth with his breath

Ashes to ashes,
We all burn down
The more I yearn for that urn
Longer in the ocean I drown

A force on it's axis
A destroyer on it's side
When gravity pulls me back again
I become its shotgun bride

I ask where are you now
Do you fill my lungs as I breathe?
Or have you forsaken this empty realm,
For a change of scenery?

The past is arrogant
The future, naked
What's to be found
When present's an imitation?

Forgetting you
And finding me
Is foreign like a God,
Who would push me into salty sea
For I have not forgot.


------------------

About my friend, Rae, who passed away about two and a half months ago.  It's gotten easier, but I still think about it every day.

The Addiction is Real

On a happier and more rewarding (see what I did there?) note, I thought I'd share some of my next tattoo ideas with you.  The first one I'm getting for my friend that passed away a few months ago, Rachel.  My friend Brittany and I are getting it together, although I think her font will be different.
I'm going to get it on my left side, the bird kind of flying away from me, and the words wrapping around my boob.  I'm getting the words in french because English is boring (not really), and because she was going to take French this upcoming semester.  We talked about traveling there together, and I just thought it was fitting.

I only want the bird on the bottom.

This means, "I miss you" in French

Celtic moon & Hindu sun

This I drew up, and it represents a personal yin and yang to me.  Not that I wanted to, but that's why I couldn't just use any generic sun and moon art.  It kind of represents the religious struggle I face every day, and I've always felt that I had two sides.  The heavy side that wants to work and succeed and the free side that wants to run barefoot around the world and not give a damn about any consequences.

107 Post-it Notes To My Future Shrink

I have a really weird (and by weird I mean bad) personality trait where I punish myself.  And not in a sexy submissive vs. dominance covered in latex kind of way.
I don't do anything crazy or too out of hand, like cut myself or consider suicide; the things I do aren't usually permanent.  The number one thing I'll do is refuse to eat.  For me this is a big deal because there have been a handful of times where I'll have an anxiety attack, sometimes leading to a panic attack, because I don't eat.  So when I punish myself by not eating, I do it with the full knowledge that it will only create a bigger brouhaha in my life (which is probably why it's such good punishment).
I'll also punish myself by refusing to join things that I know I will enjoy.  My family is going out to the mall and movies, two things I love.  Punishment - sit alone in the house and think about the fun they're having that I'm not...and also probably no dinner - you'd think I'd be skinnier.  I've also done this while shopping with my mom before.  I couldn't get one more shirt so I made her put them all back, because if I couldn't get that extra one, then I didn't want (or deserve) any of them.
Thankfully I'm over the shopping problem (considering I buy my own clothes now & I'll take what I can get),
but this personal punishment has a tendency to take control over more than just my life when it affects others.  And I find it hard to explain because the idea that I punish myself is just so fucking weird.

Why do I punish myself?
Well, why does WVU make it's furniture such an ugly shade of green?  Why do I only look good in Aviators?  Why do iPhone users feel so smug & superior with iOS 7?


 I don't really know for sure.  I should probably see some sort of therapist and have long, boring talks about my childhood.  But ain't no body got time for that!  Also, blogging is cheaper.

I do know I have the most tendency to do it when I feel inadequate with something, something I don't feel like I can control.  When I'm depressed or pitying myself, I feel like I deserve to be punished, because I'm a perfectly (arguably) healthy human being with friends, family, and endless love & support.

A prime example happened in my life last night
My boyfriend (bet you didn't think this was a boyfriend post - FOOLED YOU!) has been having a rough time at work, and just in life in general, and one thing that has really been bothering him was that he felt he was carrying our relationship.  All he asked me to do was to start texting and calling him first instead of the other way around.  That shouldn't be a big deal, and technically it's not.
But what it said to me was that I'm a terrible girlfriend who doesn't deserve anything because I don't put in any effort and I'm unlovable and a total waste of space, my boyfriend deserves someone better who can offer him more, and on and on and on.  That monologue went though my head for 3 hours before punishment came into play.
Around midnight I texted him and said the following:
"I don't know how to be a girlfriend, much less a "good" girlfriend.  3 months in people always seem to figure that out.  At this point I feel like I cause you more irritation and confusion than happiness and even I know that's not how relationships should be...With all of this going on, if you think it's a good idea to take a break this weekend & not see me I understand. You drive here every weekend & it's not fair to ask for so much when I don't give anything in return."

Punishment: not being allowed to do something I actually would like very much.  You can't even imagine the texts and the almost breaking up (which could still happen) that I started after that.  When I get this way I feel like there is a giant black vortex in my chest and it's sucking all of the good out of me.  I don't even know how to explain to him that he didn't do anything, this is something I do to myself.  And he (nor anyone else probably) wants to read this long ass essay that I've just written on it.
I don't know if I can life my life this way, what if I decide to have kids one day or something?

Hitchhikers Thumb

Sometimes when I tell people I want to travel, what I really mean is "run away."

Being Shiny, The World's Most Troubled Trophy Girlfiend

September has been a busy month.  I don't know what exactly I've been busy with, but it's been taking up all of my time.
It's probably been busy because of the boyyyyyyfriendddddd.  I'm pretty much just amazed that we're still together.  That he still likes me and doesn't think I'm a total wacko is magic-carpet-ride level amazing.  Having him as a boyfriend has been kind of like living in a movie.  Of course he has his flaws, but 90% of the time he literally treats me like a long-lost princess, and I couldn't be more grateful.
But I feel like I'm just waiting for the other shoe to drop.  Like, he's going to realize that I'm too demanding and totally not worth it, at any second.  When will I stop being the shiny new trophy?

Not only that, but his short, itty-bitty list of flaws is slowly diminishing as he decides to make life changes for me.  BE AWARE:  I did not ask for any of these changes, they are his own personal goals that I just happen to support.  Just wanted to clear that up before I got some major judgement from the peanut gallery.
Baby list of flaws:
A smoker,
Stoner (like the wake and bake, eat and bake, work and bake, drive and bake, bake and bake kind),
Living with a friend's family,
Unreliable car,
Low-level job (by this I mean that he can't really get much higher in the management than he already is, and it's not his dream job.  Not that he knows what his dream job is, haha),
Low self esteem

He's cut back on smoking (at least when I'm around, which is good enough for me since he's Mr. Two-Packs-A-Day), he's quitting pot for a while, and he's saving up for a car and his own place (probably with all that pot money he now has leftover).  He's also considering technical school.
I could list my flaws for years and years and years.  Basically infinity plus one.  And this guy still thinks I'm too hot to roam around college because I'll get hit on.  More like hit by...a giant truck.

To be honest, when we first got together, I was mostly just infatuated with how much he liked me.  It was a rush to be admired so much, and then to be treated so well, as if it were a natural everyday thing.  But now I"m in love with how willing he is to change and be there for me.  Like he's not just going to be the pillars on my porch, he's also going to be the walls in my house.  And possibly the roof.
How do I repay that?  How do I accept that?
What would I do if that went away?

Shit, even when things in life work out the good has consequences.  What's with that?

I'm Snarky

Just realized I forgot to post the things I like about Windows 8!!!

They still provided me with a desktop page.
Praise Jesus.


That's all.

Windows 8 Overhaul

I had to bid farewell to my baby, aka, my laptop of four years and sweet sixteen birthday gift.  While it still sits gracefully in my closet, waiting to come to the inevitable rescue, I've had to take up using my new laptop.  And trust me, it was hard at first.  Why, might you ask, do I have such an attachment to an inanimate object?  Well besides the obvious memories (and stickers decorating the outside-that can never be replaced), my new laptop has Windows 8.

I made sure that I waited about a month before I posted about this program, because I wanted to give it a fighting chance before I ripped it into fucking pieces with my words.  To give it a chance before I attacked it with a metaphorical sword, starting at the useless opening screen and ending with "where in the bloody hell is my start button?"

Do I absolutely hate it? No.  Hate is a strong word.  Would I like Windows 7 back?  Absolutely.  I just don't trust Windows 8, I'm annoyed by it, and I'm completely, 100% over it.

I'm doing updates every day, the programs WVU uses aren't up to speed (causing glitches), and I'm so angry about the start button.  I touch my mousepad a certain way and my screen is flipping to a different open program, and every corner of my screen has a "special" function.  Let me tell you, these special functions are wearing helmets and riding the short bus.  Apparently so are the CEO's of Microsoft.
People don't like change.  Unless you're handing out quarters tied to red balloons, we don't want it.  So be fucking gradual!  Hold our hand before you push us out into the street!  Now I'm up shits creek with only some bullshit F4+alt functions to try and maneuver my way around with.
I'd just like to make one thing clear to Microsoft:  If I wanted a Mac I'd save up my money and buy my happy ass one.
Stop trying to simplify and downsize, I don't want your function keys, I don't want your "happy happy" start screen.  I just want 1,000 folders and my god forsaken start button.  I like being able to fuck around with my hard drive and folders I'm probably never supposed to open.  I like personalizing my laptop the hard way.  I don't mind jumping through a few hoops to get things done, just so long as they're the old hoops I've always used.
Also, I like google.  I know they track my every move, my searches, and are possibly literally watching me.  But if you keep shoving Bing down my throat and I'll "Bing" you where the sun doesn't shine.

A Piece of My Life

My boyfriend finally took some more pictures with me the other day, and they're really cute.  I am here to share the cuteness.
Also, we used a webcam, so they're pretty fuzzy.  I apologize now.

Okay, not so cute. But very "us."

My smile says more than any of these words<3 td="">

(on vacation)

In my last post I talked about my new tattoo, well, I got that tattoo while I was tanning my bum at the beach.  My favorite beach in the United States has to be Wrightsville Beach in North Carolina, the water is clear, the breeze is warm, and the people aren't overwhelming.  It was a good mini-vacation (only about two days), and there is something about the beach that I just can't shake.  I write about the ocean often in my poems and I admire it so much, and I know I'm not the only one.  I think the ocean gives me a sense of how finite my problems are, and how small I am compared.  I find that relieving.

People got so creative this year, I also saw an octopus and a dolphin in the sand.

The Tree That Shades Me

I got my first tattoo this Tuesday!  My aunt wanted to get one done as a group (her, my mom, and I) and she sprung it on us last minute.  We were at the beach and before I knew it, I was at Cadillac Tattoos.  Since I didn't have any forewarning I was in a dress and a thong, perfect attire for the hip tattoo I ended up getting..
However, the guys were super professional and great.  They made jokes, didn't complain that we kept them an hour over their closing time, and I love, love, my new tattoo.
I'm lucky I've been thinking about getting a piece of my mom's Tree of Life tattoo, or who knows what I would've ended up walking out of there with.
Also, it hurt.  A lot.  Like, way more than I thought it would.  Apparently my pain tolerance is low - I'm a total pussy.

my mom's tattoo

tattoo on my right hip.

If you look at the top "limbs" and flip them upside down, you'll see where I got my flower design.

So here's to my amazing mom & aunt, our trip to Ireland, and our memories together (good and bad).
xoxo

The Unknown

Does it make anyone else nervous that I write all the of really bad stuff in my journal?  Like, what's so bad that I can't even put it on the internet; the place where bad things live, grow, and prosper?
You'll never know.

The Blues and Tattoos

I didn't think that having a new roommate would hit me this hard, I at least didn't think I would cry until I saw the room or something.  The new girl seems nice, it just makes Rachel's passing away a very final reality.  It doesn't help that there is nothing I can do about it.

Also, everyone is talking about getting a tattoo in memory of Rae, and I like that idea in theory.  I've never gotten a tattoo before, and it's not because I don't like them, it's because they're permanent.  If I'm going to have to look at it forever, I better like it forever.  I just need time to process and think about it.  Like three years kind of time.
I'm slow, don't act surprised.
I just want to be sure of what I want, it won't magic eraser off my body if I change my mind last minute.

Irony and I

My last post was about how I apply the five stages of grief to my love life, it was very self involved - like most of the things I talk about.

Last Sunday, the 21st, my roommate/best friend passed away in a car accident.  I went to her funeral yesterday, spoke, and made her memory boards.

I'm okay now, but I don't quite know what to say about it.  It's something that has affected all of my friends, and that will continue to affect us.  I wish I'd done and said things differently, I re-thought some of my actions.  I now have to deal with actual grief.
Sometimes it hasn't hit me, and then something small, like getting ready for my friends birthday party, will make me think of her.  She'll never get ready for a party with me again, something we did about 100 times last school year.

I'm not in the mood to be sappy and drawn out, in fact this has left me very short tempered and dissatisfied about regular things in my life.  I just felt like I owe her, and myself, some perspective on life.  There are real things to grieve over.

Rachel and I, during a night out.

The Five Stages of Grief & How I Handle Love

If I had a whole list of things about the reasons I'm a fucked up person, "love makes me sad" would probably be number 7 or 8.  And "Being Naggy" would be 13, but that's a different story.

When it comes to love in real life, I basically go through the five stages of grieving.

1) Denial.  I don't love this guy, I haven't been with him long enough to love him.  I still think other guys are cute sometimes.  What is love anyway?  Maybe I love him, but I'm not in love with him, there's a difference right?

2) Anger.  How dare I love someone?  It's not like this is going to amount to anything!  How dare he be so nice that I fall in love?  This is stupid!  I'm stupid!  

3) Bargaining.  Maybe if distance myself from him I won't love him anymore.  I won't text back as fast, we won't hang out as often, I won't wear the bracelet he got me and I won't love him this much and it'll all be fine.  Maybe by doing all of these things he'll think I'm crazy and distance himself from me!  Then I really won't love him this much, genius!

4) Depression.  If I tell him I love him things will be too serious, and then they won't work out.  He's going to break my heart, and worse, I deserve it for being such a dumbass and falling for him.  I don't deserve love, there's no way he'll love me back, this is going to end badly. [insert countless versions of a break up scene.]

5) Acceptance.  I've been told it's nice at this stage, I wouldn't know. [insert more of stage 4 depression.]

Since I was 15 I've always thought I was too weird, too ugly, and too overlooked to ever make someone happy.  For the past 5 years that line of thought has proven to be true.  It's what I've told myself after every breakup or version of "heartbreak" that I've come across in my life.  When someone leaves me, it's always because I'm lacking in some way.  I've talked about this a lot in my blog, I know I have, and hopefully I'm not beating people over the head with it.  It's just such a destructive line of thought and I know that it affects me in every relationship I have.

In my current relationship my boyfriend puts in effort to better himself for me (haircut, cutting back a bit on cigarettes, etc), he gets jealous of other guys, and laughs at my jokes.  He'll even stay up for over 24 hours to spend time with me (he works night shift, makes for weird hangout and sleeping hours). He tells me I'm beautiful every day, he says how lucky he is to have me every chance he gets, and I literally catch him gazing at me.

When he does or says these things, I get very quiet and reserved and he always asks me what's wrong.  I don't know how to tell him that I'm scared sick of how breaking up or him not putting in as much effort will affect me.  That I don't feel like I deserve these things.  I'm not good enough for this.  I feel like a fraud, accepting gifts that belong to some other girl.  Some other girl that he will eventually find and leave me for.  I really don't know how to say it without sounding pathetic or ungrateful or without making him mad at how much I dislike myself.  I mean, if I don't like "me," how can anyone else?

Where I'm Going vs. Where I've Been

So I was browsing through my blog and I came across one of my pity party "woe is me" posts about the last guy I was with.  I'm sure my blog is filled with them, but this is just the first one I laid eyes on.
I emphasized a lot about how I was immature and how I wasn't done exploring new things.  The only thing I rested on his shoulders was that he didn't put in enough effort.

I'm with a guy now, who blows that last one out of the water.  It's a testament to how I've been treated in the past, let me tell you.  He won't let me pay for anything, ever (it's a little frustrating sometimes), he's literally become good friends with my parents, he's met my friends, he works night shift but will stay up for over 24 hours to see me, he'll drive an hour to my house just to see me for 30 minutes before he goes to work, he's willing to visit me at school as much as I want, he listens when I say "no," he texts me good morning and good night.  And the biggest thing he did that no guy has ever done for me before?  Asks me and makes sure that I get off during sex.  He takes it as a personal defeat if I don't, it's really quite cute.

That whole paragraph is full of things that he does, that no one else has ever bothered or even attempted to do.  I'm sure I'm even missing a few things!  This whole situation actually makes me angry that I've never expected more out of a guy than for him to like me.  In the past I've gotten a few dinners, a movie date here or there, but no real chivalry.  And certainly no one who gave a shit about how I felt in bed.

XOXO

I have so much to write about, I've been staring at my laptop screen for at least 10 minutes, typing and then erasing what I want to say.  My life gets so busy that things just get all jumbled up in my head.

I could go off the boyfriend topic again, lord knows I have enough material in that area.  I could rant about how I have to take $5,528 in loans because I didn't get any new scholarships, despite my 3.8 GPA.  I could also give you the DL on how to be a very bad almost-employee - clue: it's waiting to call back an interested employer for an entire week.

However, it's sunny outside and my friends want to take me swimming so we can gossip about sex and how much we love food but also being skinny.  I'll have to give you a titillating post later, since they've been far and few between lately, I'll try to make it a really good one.

xoxo 

The Best Bullshitter On This Side Of The East Coast

Well, I promised a boyfriend story, but now gentle viewers I think I have to break that promise.  When I first started seeing *Rick I was in a state of disbelief and confusion.  How had this situation come about?  What was I going to do about it?  Will this panic go away?
Well the panic has faded and a love haze has once again clouded my eyes.  Fuck doesn't even cover the "oh shit" feeling I have about that.

So I don't even want to talk about how it all came out.  I mean, long story short I met him at a bonfire, he was interested in me (I didn't think much of it), he perused me for a few weeks, we kissed, I stopped being a bitch.
Now he does things like dive an hour out of his way to come and see me, he won't let me pay for anything, and the sex is fantastic, and let's be honest, I deserved some great sex after the great fiasco of the Oreo Ice Pack.  He says things like, "you know you're a 10 dating a 6, right?" and he never stops complimenting me.
I legitimately don't know what to do with shit like that.  Ignore me, I'm up for the challenge.  Be mean to me, I can take it.  But be nice to me?  I just give him confused looks all the time.  The ability to graciously accept compliments isn't something I know how to do.  In fact, any suggestions will damn well be welcome.

Now I can't tell if I'm dating the best bullshitter on this side of the East Coast, or if this guy is genuine and safe to believe.  I had no idea my faith in men had fallen so far off the radar, yet here I am, blithely nodding my head to whatever he says while saying "bullshitbullshitbullshit" in my head.  I don't have time to fall down the rabbit hole this time, I need to keep my head on.
Then I have the part that says if this guy is being real right now, I'm missing out on some really great memories and kind words.  Who knows when I'll find someone who treats me like this again?

This is just what my head has been spending all of it's free time thinking about, thought I would share it with the world.  I'm sure more exciting things have happened, but you know me.  A guy walks into my life and I drop everything else like it's about to infect me with Ebola.  Good times.

A picture of our cuteness because a sick part of me just can't resist.

The Adjustment Period

Holy shit, I leave for a month and it feels like a year.  I didn't post anything because I've been busy adjusting myself from dorm life to home life - and what an adjustment it's been.
A curfew again, my mom is sticking her nose in my business, and I've gone from a roommate to a sister.  Let's just say I'm still getting used to it all.
When I was at school I missed the warmth and love in homemade cooking.  Now that I'm home, I find I miss the steadiness of an actual meal at meal time.  Oh well, you can't have everything.

I also have a boyfriend now, and just wait until I actually have the patience to sit down and write about this whole shenanigan.  It's quite the whirlwind romance, and if you actually read my blog then you know that I have NO BUSINESS being anyone's girlfriend.  It's a miracle I haven't killed him, or myself, with awkwardness and bad puns yet.  It's even more of a miracle that he likes me enough to want to date me and not just fuck.  Because, you know, I have such low expectations and all.
Anyways,
hold on to your keyboards children, summer's just begun.

Stupid Things I Do When I'm Drunk

I have a love-hate relationship with drunk me.  She's fun, she's free, she doesn't give a shit.  It's all the parts of me that I suppress during the day.  But I guess I keep those parts too cooped up because when I let loose I really let loose.  So in order to purge myself as well to serve as a reminder, here's a list of stupid things I did last night.
1. Yelled a lot during pong.  I hate those girls that can't shut up, but I was one of them last night.
2. Didn't make a single pong cup.  Although sometimes I do that when I'm sober too, haha.
3. Smoked a cigar.
4. Talked about my sex life.
5. Repeated myself.
6. Dropped my laptop.
7. Grabbed a guy's dick (He was in his boxers and he's so tall it was almost eye level - this is the second time drunk me has grabbed a dick. Sober me does not take part in this, ever.)
8. Tried very hard to run a naked lap after I got skunked in pong.  I wouldn't do it without my partner, but the level at which I was trying to convince him to go with the flow so I could run down the street in my underwear is beyond embarrassing.  He'll never let me live it down, I'm sure.
9. Said way too much, and said it loud.  Drunk me is always airing out her fucking business.
10. Became determined to be flexible.  I put my leg on my friend's shoulder, or tried to... (my ass went on the floor)  Don't know what I was trying to prove there.

However, there are a few smart things I did!
1. No drunk facebooking.
2. No drunk tweeting.
3. No drunk pictures! They always turn out so awful and some asshole has to post them later.
4. I gave my phone to my sober friend at the end of the night so I couldn't drunk text a guy at the party who I wanted to give a piece of my mind to (the fact that I begged for it back is irrelevant).
5. Ate something when I got back to my room.
6. Didn't slap the shit out of a friend who was trying way to hard to get with me.  I like him as a friend, but apparently he can only handle that when he's sober.

Oops, I Had Sex (and it didn't go well) - A Cautionary Tale

I post enough embarrassing stuff on here that I figured I should just go ahead and share this one too.  I'm honestly disgusted at how much sex/boy talk I've been doing lately.  I swear I have other interests in my life, but I just suppose they just aren't as noteworthy.  And honestly, my sex life is so much funnier than anything else I do.  In fact, it's even a bit of a warning...  Are you ready for my not-sexy sex story?

It would be just my luck to pick out a guy who has a thing for pain in the bedroom.  Bite, scratch, beat, whatever it is, he's into it.  You know what he's not into?  Foreplay.  Or Condoms.

Concerning the first one I just have to say, it's fucking necessary to turn on the sprinklers before you start running around in the front yard hoping for something to happen!  And I haven't had sex in almost 5 months, it should be soooooooo easy for you to do.  No excuses.
By the way, do you know what condoms have on them? lube.
And I'll just go ahead and do a little no-condom rant.  I KNOW. I've been taught since the 6th grade that condoms are great, super important little things that are a necessity.  Especially when having casual sex with someone. I KNOW.  But we didn't and in my defense I asked for one a few times and he just claimed he didn't have one.  You know what he didn't ask?  If he come cum inside of me.  Yeah, that happened.  No permission given, he just went for it.  I was dumbfounded.  Saying "yeah I'm on birth control" was not "woman speak" for disregard condoms and, oh while your at it, put your sperm in me!

So, there was that nonsense.  And I was in pain the whole time, both times.  Strait up pain.  The first time I even asked him to stop, don't finish, just stop.  It's a little my fault, I'm not directive at all.  I don't come with an instructions manual, I just hope that I have a good builder.  One lesson learned from the sexcapade was speak up!  Being quiet will get you nothing!
Or wait, it will get you something...
In my case it was a swollen v a g i n a.  It happens during sex, it's honestly pretty natural (I looked it up).  However, I got home and put an ice pack on my vagina.  For about an hour.  I wish I was kidding.  Thankfully I'm a good sport, because it makes me laugh just to think about it.  I mean, an ice pack shaped like an oreo was in my pants for a good part of my Friday while I was skipping classes because it hurt to walk or wear underwear.  You can't make that shit up, you just have to live it.

Also when I got to my room I realized I'd walk of shamed with a hickey the size of Massachusetts on my shoulder and neck.  Gigantic.  A guy actually asked me if I got hit by/fell on something.  That happened to be the weekend I went home and my amazing dad had the grace to ignore it while I did my best to apply make-up and wear clothes from my small selection of t-shirts (they make me feel like I'm choking so I don't own many).

I waited five months to have sex, and this is what happened to me.  I just...it really does make me smile.  I'm so ridiculous sometimes.

By the way (my little disclaimer), in the guy's defense, it wasn't all bad and he's actually a nice person.  The good stuff just isn't as interesting or funny as the bad, so I won't bore you with it, haha.

An Apology (and explanation) Letter To My Future Husband (should I ever get one)

Hello my beautiful blog!  I've been hiding from you.  Yes, hiding...because of that last post, the one that I STILL can't read but refuse to delete.  It reeks of how low and pathetic I was and can be; plus I pretty much cried the whole time I wrote it.  It was an emotional breakdown that I'll admit I'm still not dealing with.  It's all basically "la-la-la-la-la-plug-my-ears-and-move-on."
Big surprise that it's not working well for me.

Here's Example A of how well things are going:
I meet Joe Schmo at a frat party.  He's pretty cute, tall, awkward, and one-hundred and twenty percent into me.  We talk, we badly dance, I give him a chaste kiss and my phone number (lalalalalalalalalalalala).
Then we hung out the next day...for six hours.  We strolled around campus, looked at a few sights, held hands.  It was all very cheesy and 1950's.  I took him to one of my good friend's house, mistake #249,904.  The awkwardness clung to the air around me, I felt so forced into even the simple intimacy of sitting next to him. Finally I couldn't take it any more.  I asked the poor kid to leave.
Have you ever had to do that?  Is there a polite way to ask someone to get the fuck out before you use your North Face to hang yourself from the ceiling fan?  Personally I couldn't think of one and I was in panic mode.
I think I did an okay job though, by saying, "I'd really like to just hang out with my friends now." then I kissed him and said "can that be a goodnight kiss?" (damn smooth for panic mode, am I right?)
And I have not talked to him since.  If the guilt is killing me, then the anger I feel at myself for being such a complicated bitch has already bought my headstone.
I realized just how much I do not, repeat DO NOT, want a relationship.  I don't want to share my friends or my time with anyone else.  I can't be bothered by the strange "I like you," and "I like you too" but "how much?" parts of a budding relationshit relationship.  Yet I threw away the friends-with-benefits part of my life because I fell in love with the guy and wanted more.  But I don't want more?  You see, I put a question mark there because I'm really not fucking sure.

So yeah, I'm not really okay.  But I am.  Like, I'm functional and happy, just occasionally confused.  Also, I'm on the brink of making stupid decisions, like texting the guy I'm still in love with for his birthday so when I'm out for the summer we can have lunch and catch up.  I keep asking people whether they think it's a good idea or not, and they all say the same thing.  I'm not sure why I keep asking, I know what I 'm going to end up doing.
And so continues the denial train, choo-choo-motherfucker!

Simply Therapeutic (I don't expect anyone to read this nonsense)

I've learned so much this first year in college, and it isn't even over yet.  I started out nervous, confused, and scared.  I still have my moments and I'm still weird about trying new things, but I haven't failed yet and I've got to let that drive me.
I've learned about friends.  How to keep in touch and stay close, how to make time for everyone, and how to make new friends.  I've met some good people, and the most exciting thing is that this year isn't it.  I'll meet more next year, and even more after that.
I've lost a few friends as well, but nothing I'm going to stress about.  Some people aren't in your life for the right reasons.  I've learned how to recognize that.
I think the most important thing I learned this year though, and am still struggling and dealing with daily is you.  I've already said I accept that things went wrong.  I was so mad at you for not putting in effort though.  I was still so stuck on what could have been.  I fall asleep dreaming about what might happen between us if I see you again this summer.
I see something I was missing before though.  Actually, a lot of things that were missing.  I have one friend who is two years younger than me, and almost every day I see her immaturity.  It doesn't bother me, I just recognize that she sees things differently because she hasn't fully experienced them yet.  We had a nine year difference.  Nine.  I can't even imagine how young and naive I was in your eyes.
I'm still doing new things, I'm still testing the waters and seeing how wild I want to be.  You've been there and done that.  You don't want to stay out until 4 in the morning drinking and watching me try whippets for the first time.  You want someone who's going to have dinner ready when you get home, who can work the vacuum, and who wants to settle down.  I don't cook, I can work the vacuum, but I want to travel and see the world before I do anything else with my life.
I realize that so many new things are happening in your life right now and it kills me that I'm not a part of them, that you don't even want me to be.  I waste time wondering if you were ever even into me, which is stupid and insecure (some things I still haven't managed to fix about myself) but true nonetheless.
I have flashbacks of things I said or did and I physically cringe just thinking about them.

I used to question if I was ever really in love with you or if I just said it to make you feel guilty.  People always say that "you'll know."  But that's total bullshit.  I didn't know until I realized I had lost you and that you were never even mine in the first place.  I didn't know until the thought of being with another guy made me physically ill.  I didn't know until every god damn stupid VW car I passed I wanted to kick the paneling in on.  At this point I've spent more time apart from you than I ever did with you.
Why does it still hurt so bad.
Time isn't doing it's job.  Let's get a-healing, okay?

So Frustrated I Can't Even Come Up With a Proper Title

It's been seven posts since I talked about a guy.  Pretty sure that's a record.
So now I'm in the dilemma of trying to see how long I can go, or getting some things off my chest by writing about a very confusing someone.
Fuck it, I have no self restraint and this is what I wanted to talk about anyway.

First of all, I'd like to restate that I'm fucked up.  I'm an emotional mess, a total weirdo, and as indecisive as humanly possible.  With my last relationship issue (talked about in My Holiday Heart-to-Heart...and about a million other posts) I was left feeling inadequate, lonely, and confused.  I don't regret a thing, but I still think about that guy every day.  You know what else I think about every day?
SEX.
I'm at a sexual roadblock in my life right now, and it's starting to really piss me off.
I don't want to have a one night stand, I don't want to sleep with some random person, I don't want a relationship, I can't handle friends with benefits, I don't want to fuck up any friendships with sexual tension, and I'm honest to God scared of any emotional repercussions of sleeping with a new person.
What am I supposed to do?  I just about loose my damn mind when I try to figure it out.

So here is where the guy comes in.  I'd like to let everyone know that he is the most frustrating, infuriating, annoying, twisted, man-whore, bastard who really lights a fire under my ass.  And he doesn't even have to do anything.  In fact, half of the time not doing anything is my problem with him. Let's call him Cole.
Cole and I have issues.  Actually, I'm most likely the only one with issues, he's probably completely oblivious.  I can't even explain what it is about him that infuriates me so much.
Maybe it's that he slept with my roommate in a drunken stupor, maybe it's that he then apologized to me and then kissed me, maybe it's that he calls me his friend but doesn't put his money where his mouth is.  It's quite possibly the fact that he's such a fake.  He always acts like he's superior and nothing bothers him, but he's intelligent, quirky, and occasionally poetic.
It's probably the fact that I want him to fuck my brains out, but can't get over all of these negative qualities.  I don't think I'd ever recover from liking a guy like him too much.
Why do I like such assholes? Fucking genetics.

Toes, Cards, and Cats

I have things I want to share, yet nothing really exciting has happened in my life.  It's a rare occasion in which that happens!  Nevertheless I have three pictures for you, World, and you're going to enjoy the fuck out of them.
Of course, before I just go uploading pictures willy-nilly I have to warn that they are just random and completely unrelated.  AKA: my life.

So remember when I said I was going to start wearing more things I liked, that made me feel like me.  I wanted to reclaim my identity...  Well instead of my identity I'm now a proud owner of three blisters.  And let me just say, I took them like a champ.  I've never had a blister before and I only shed one (maybe two) tears. That's what heeled boots, holy socks, and an unusually warm day will get you in Morgantown.
Sorry if you find this gross.  I find it to be the crowning result of my efforts.  Plus I like to share my pain with anyone who will listen. :)

I'm a community service God.  With over 20 hours already I made valentines for old people with my friends a few days ago and this was my third and final one.  I thought it was so cute!  Although, I have to admit I'm an open Valentines Day hater.  When I'm old if some random college kid makes me a card I'll probably put it in my pants and shit on it, because that's what I think about Valentines Day. But, hey, Nancy W might like it?

And this is Bella, my prima donna of a cat.  She's a little princess and she knows it.  She's also a catnip addict, but we try not to talk about it.
I went home for the weekend and she cuddled with me and got a mini-photoshoot.  She's just too cute not to share, and I miss her when I'm at college.

Long Story Short

There is something about being a bitch that I just refuse to apologize for.
 (I wrote a whole post about this, but this one line basically sums it up.)

Hobo with a Shotgun

I want to share with everyone this little delight of a B movie that I found on Netflix thanks to some friends with an adventurous taste in films.  Granted, this movie was most likely made 1,000 times better because I watched it with a group of friends who pointed out things in the background, made funny comments, and asked questions that I might not have thought of.  Nevertheless, if you're bored on a Friday night & hanging out with some friends I suggest this movie.
It is, obviously, about a Hobo with a Shotgun.  Now, if that title doesn't interest you at all then I guess shy away from it.  But if you like funny quotes, fake blood, and righteous old man vigilantes who heal at unfathomable rates then this is for you.
Synopsis: A hobo gets of a train and goes into a town that is run by a family & it's crooked cops.  Seeing people pulled from the street and running over their heads with bumper cars is an average afternoon activity, along with rubbing your face in some cocaine with a few pals.  After a few unfortunate encounters the hobo decides that the money he's saved would be put to it's best use by buying a shotgun (that magically has unending ammo, by the way) and proceeds to take down the bullies of the town.
I won't spoil any more for you, you'll just have to watch.
And if that seat-gripping synopsis wasn't enough, here are a few quotes to light the fire I know you have under your ass to watch this movie:

"When life gives you razor blades, you make a baseball bat...with razor blades."

"Put the knife away kid...or I'll use it to cut welfare checks from your rotten skin!"
(In Response): "Well you better cut one to Mother Theresa, so you can give it to her while she's finger-banging you in hell!"

"Go the fuck home everybody!  And don't forget to wash your dicks!"

"They are going to make comics out of my hate-crimes!"

"You look so hot, I just want to cut off my dick and rub it against your titties."

These are just a few from IMDB (I made the mistake of not writing them down while watching the movie-how was I to know it was going to be so quotable?)
So if you end up watching it, let me know what you think & your favorite quote!

Loosing The Feeling of Feeling Unique

Somewhere between packing for college and putting together my dorm room I lost myself.
I'm determined to find me again.

I think the biggest sign of this loss is my choice of clothing.  I used to be up to date (in my own middle-of-nowhere way) and I would enjoy putting together clothes.  I loved finding new things in the store, and most of all I loved turning something I already owned into something completely different.  For example scarves become headbands, socks become leg warmers or things to make a bun out of.
I can't seem to do these things anymore and I'm not sure why.  I've become the girl who wears jeans and a t-shirt every day, all day.  Then I would become convinced that other girls that would wear just jeans and a t-shirt were wearing it much better than me.
A loss of confidence perhaps?
Maybe it's because my entire group of friends split and went different ways?
It could be something as simple as my closest is now split between home and school and it's causing the fashion version of writers block.

I'm determined to change this.  I'm planning on getting a job, saving up money, and spending the leftovers on things that will make me feel good again.
I got good grades, but I think I just can't feel accomplished until I am able to provide for myself and not rely on others for things.  Even my parents (who honestly can't afford to buy the nice kind of toilet paper right now--but that's a different story) can be no help when it comes to money.

It's not quite a new year's rez, but it'll do.  For now anyway;)

The New Year & My Way With Words

I wish I was in the mood to write an awesome post about the new year & how great 2012 was for me, but I'm not.
So with that I say hello 2013, I'll write my wishlist for you when I'm feeling less bitchy. I'd hate to start my new year off with resolutions like "become a loner because people are worthless," haha.
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