yee-haw i'm registered

I PASSED! I PASSEDIPASSEDIPASSED!!


phew.

nice to know that sometimes, hard work actually does pay off.



time to go dunk my brain in ice.

what was i thinking?

i am so stressed out and brain dead it's ridiculous.

why would i ever think that testing and studying stopped when i graduated?

wrong.

you never stop learning.
which is an awesome thing to contemplate in theory.

but for right now i want to bang my head against a dull object until i pass this test and get licensed.

update

it's been too long and so many things have happened.

i have a real job. and i LIKE it. which in itself is a friggin' miracle. especially since i kind of luckily fell into it.

i have a boyfriend. it's been almost 3 month now and i haven't gotten bored or itchy feet. and he's great, despite the fact that sometimes i feel like i am training a particularly stupid dog. he's sensitive and caring and unique. he's definitely someone i would never picture myself dating. but there you have it.

things are going well. so well that i am waiting for the world to drop on my head with my fingers crossed.

i'm just hoping that this good fortune isn't going to run out exactly when i need it most.
which sadly it has a habit of doing.

wowzers

do you ever stop and wonder why the HELL you would ever act like that in your entire life?


that pretty much encapsulates my feelings towards friday night.

i am an idiot.

one for you and one for you..

i lose little pieces of my heart every day. i get caught up in a moment and before i know it, a part of me is slipping through my fingers.

i fall a little bit in love with a cute boy opening the door for me, and with the guy strumming his guitar at the local cafe. i wonder what the guy driving that big old truck is really like, and sigh over the boy playing with his lab in the park. my heart flutters on the beach watching a gorgeous specimen make that spike while playing beach volleyball, and i get a little tongue-tied when someone good-looking sends me a drink across the bar.


all of this kind of makes me wonder...how many people are falling a little bit in love with you or me every day?

it's a nice thing to think about...

the wildness of my imagination

we have an in-ground pool in my backyard. we just put it in a couple of years ago, just past the time when it would have been convenient to have it and we would have been little enough to get a lot of use out of it, but hey, you'll never hear us claim that our family makes sensible decisions.

my pool is a really cool color. it's this unreal blue, not quite sapphire and not quite turquoise but a mesmerizing combination of the two. it's the kind of color that merely looking at it makes you want to dive into it, slowly sink beneath the surface, because that kind of blue hints at coolness and silk, so why don't you just come on in?


i could stare at my pool for hours. the way the sunlight sparkles off the surface of the water, the patterns the light and ripples make on the bottom. i sit there and imagine that there are things in my pool. not gross things like toads and insects and turtles, though turtles really aren't that gross, i just couldn't really come up with any other horrifying water things. but the things that i'm thinking of are fairy-tale things. i imagine that creatures like water fairies and sparkling fish and tiny intelligent seahorses are frolicking in my pool, only i can't see them because they are in a dimension just beyond my reach, because after all, this world doesn't really believe in magic, and as soon as you hit thirteen you are forced to accept that really cool and interesting things like fairies and dragons don't really exist.






but sometimes, in the late afternoon, when it's quiet and lazy like it can only be on a languid summer day, there are water fairies and intelligent seahorses. and they live in the curve of the deepest part of my pool.

i'd like to be twelve again please

i have an interview tomorrow. a real job interview. in a real financial corporation with real grownup money involved, and real grownup hours. the interview is for an internal wholesaler position.

yeah, i know. doesn't it sound great? all sorts of responsible and solid.
the sad thing is, i can't get myself to care whether or not i make a good impression.
that's a horrible attitude to have.



how come when i was a kid, or even last year before i graduated, my dreams seemed so bright and shiny, and now appear a little ragged around the edges and stained from too many compromises? nowhere in my dreams did the words "internal wholesaler" appear.



god save me from being a grownup.

miscommunication

i know i'm not good at communicating out loud. it's something that's been said to me before, something i know i should try harder to work on. it's just that when things matter, when what i say matters, the words get tangled up somewhere between my heart and my mouth. i don't say exactly what i want to say, or it comes out completely wrong, leaving both of us unsatisfied and disappointed. so i would rather not say anything than say something wrong.

but if i could clear the blockage in the passageway from my heart and head to my lips i would say that you are so much more than i expected or deserved. i would describe how alive i feel when i'm just in the same vicinity as you. i would list the many qualities that i discover about you every day that steal little pieces of my heart despite my desperate and frightened grasp on them. i would say that kissing you isn't just chemistry, but an experience that involves every part of me, and when you gently cup my cheek i would do anything you asked at that moment. i would tell you that hearing your voice makes me smile, your sense of humor makes me laugh, and when you look at me in just that way, like you can't believe someone like me would be with someone like you---which is exactly the way i feel, it feels like the world slows down, narrows into focus, and it gets hard for me to breathe.

i would tell you that you're smart and kind and sweet. that you're so complex and possess so many different layers that i cannot wait to uncover another fascinating piece of you. that i think about you as much as you think about me because so many things remind me of you. that now i know why poets write and singers sing because this feeling is so much bigger than words, and yet to not try to capture it in some form would break your heart.

i want to talk to you when something happens or doesn't happen. i would reassure you more, let you know that yes i do feel that way too, and please look into my eyes and see that because i don't want to screw this up and i do want to give this a shot. i would whisper that i am scared, but not of you, just of how wonderful this is and how right it feels. i'd ask you softly to be patient, to try to understand me, and to please not let me get away no matter how much i seem to want to.

i would say all the words that you say back to me, the sweet, soft words that make my soul sing and my fingertips tingle.




this is what i would say to you, but i have some trouble with the connection between my heart and my mouth..


so i just have to hope that you see it when you look at me.

am i just hopelessly cynical?

okay i love getting caught up in emotion and going with the flow and everything, but it's time to take a reality check.

One Town Over said last night that he thinks he's falling for me.


whoooooa there.


it's been what...three weeks? i'm all for whirlwind courtship and fantastic dates and sweet kisses but...how can you fall for someone that you don't even really know? is that even possible? i don't know if he knows my favorite color, what i look like when i wake up, or millions of other tiny things that would cause a person to really decide that they love someone else.

but maybe i'm overanalyzing this. maybe for some people it does happen this quickly. maybe i should keep going with the flow.

i just don't want him to unfall as quickly as he fell. so that when i start to open up more fully, i'm left in the dust, vulnerable and aching.

oh i know, go ahead and punch me.

i feel very selfish and ungrateful for saying this but....do you know when everything is going so well that it would become repetitive to write about how wonderful something (or someone...ahem *One Town Over*) is?

that's where i'm at. and i haven't been there for so very long that i feel disoriented.

i've forgotten how exciting, wonderful, and just plain nice beginnings can be.



so i'm just going to sit back and enjoy this one.
god knows i need a bit of niceness.

does stuff like this really happen?

did i mention how romantic swings seem lately? no? must be One Town Over's influence.

he had picked me up earlier in the night because i didn't have a car for the evening (funny how convenient sisters can be at borrowing things at exactly the right time). we had hung out with his friends at a restaurant and then traveled to previously mentioned friends' house to hang out on their back porch.

After a hour or so of relaxing and having a casual drink, my eyes were starting to get heavy and everything was slowing down in that lazy way you get when you're cozy enough to slip away into sleep. he got up to take me home, because apparently he is the first guy i have ever met who possesses that rare quality of observation. that or he noticed that my head looked like it going to hit the table every five minutes when i forgot to pay attention and almost drifted off.

we made a quick detour to his house because his gas tank was empty and he needed to switch cars. we pulled up to his house at around 11:30 pm, and he ran inside to get the keys. meanwhile, since i am in possession of a very curious nature, i had wandered over to examine a tree in his front yard while waiting for him to come out.

the tree i was drawn to examine was a very special type of tree. it had that magic feel to it. a tree that only happens once every couple of neighborhoods. the tree you want your kids to have and the tree that as a five year-old you have wet dreams about. it's a tree for adventure, for forts, for hiding away from chores or parents. it was huge, sturdy, and old---perfect for leaning against as you're reading a book on a lazy spring day, with thick, low branches ideal for climbing and perching on. it's huge leaves reached almost to the ground, forming a giant green canopy and isolating you in a gorgeous green sphere. first kisses, holding hands, and crushes were formed under this tree. scrapes, falls, and childhood memories grew with this tree the same way it's trunk and roots did. more importantly for this post, it was a tree for swings and hammocks.

and of course, what else would be hooked up to this marvelous specimen but a two-seater swing. obviously there was no way i was leaving his house without first trying out the swing.

i settled myself in the cushions and gently pushed off with my toe to start the motion. the night was balmy and clear, and the back and forth motion of the swing cooled my face. i could see the stars through the branches, and the air tasted of cool grass and the flowers that grew along his walkway. something about a summer night always makes me feel eighteen again. i leaned back against the chair and closed my eyes, relaxing and taking in the creak of the swing, the soft swish of the air, and the quiet sounds of the night.

i opened my eyes and he stood there smiling. not a full smile, but a half smile, shy and sweet. he settled in beside me on the swing without a word and pulled me close so that my head rested on his shoulder. his hand searched for mine, and his fingers traced the lines on my palm. he has beautiful fingers, long and tapered, yet strong. his hands are made for playing an instrument, and they're gentle when they cup my face or sift through my hair. he noticed that i was looking down at them.

"i hate my hands."

"why?" couldn't he see that his hands were perfect?

"they're so callused and tough."

"no" i corrected, "they're strong. i can't believe you hate them. at least you're not like me. when i smile, my eyes get all squinty."

his laugh was warm and full. "i happen to think that's one of your most endearing qualities. your nose also scrunches up right at the top. it's very cute. you have a gorgeous smile."

i blushed, thankful that it was dark enough he couldn't see. i haven't blushed since i was a freshman in college, but then again guys don't usually notice intimate things like that. and when they do, they usually don't mean them. i was afraid that if he was that observant, he could strip away my protective guards in no time. i have no defense against sweetness.

we lapsed back into silence. and it was...comfortable, but not. it was almost tender. and when he lifted my face up to kiss me, my bones softened, my eyes drifted closed, and my heart just sort of ....fluttered. and i'm embarrassed to even write that, but goddammit that's what happened.

the only thing that would have made this whole scene even more disgustingly perfect would have been if a soft, romantic emo song would have started playing in the background. it was that ridiculous.

but the odd and somewhat frightening thing is that it didn't feel cheesy or staged or forced.


so now i wait.....and see if this is for real.

new possiblilites..

since it's been awhile i'm just going to jump right in. still no job, although i am working on it i swear. and if i hear any more unemployed jokes shot in my direction, i will lose it and go on a screaming rampage. so that's a little frustrating.

i had a little situation with a Hometown boy for a while. like all things in my life it didn't end up working out. we come from completely different types of lifestyles, and even though we tried, it would have never clicked. that sounds a lot better than the fact that he also had the dubious quality of being shorter than me. i am only 5'5. and i know i'm shallow but it was a big thing i couldn't get past. i'd like to feel that if i was ever involved in an altercation that i would protected, not defending his ass and mine.

however, just when i despaired of any new opposite sex interaction at all, i got asked for my number at a local bar that i always go to. me. i got asked. for my number. twice. yeah bitches.

one boy, One Town Over, looks extremely promising. so promising that i'm terrified i will screw this up before it even gets off the ground. for one, i was attracted to him right off the bat, instead of growing to be attracted. two, he's funny. his quirky brand of humor compliments my own. three, he's smart. thank god for that. being able to have an intelligent conversation is half the battle. four, and now these are just bonuses, he can sing. like really sing. and play guitar. i hate sounding like a stupid groupie but..... OHMYGOD. and five, i think he drives a truck.

i mean really, where did this guy come from?

and to think that he was right over the bridge my entire life.


sometimes life's a kick in the ass.

an idea for after the bar.

we lay on a blanket underneath the stars in a practice soccer field near the high school. It had just rained, and we were sensitive to the wet seeping through the layers we had put underneath the blanket.

"Is that the little dipper?"

"I can never tell. i'm terrible at constellations. i never saw the point in them." i was just disgruntled because i have never had any skill in locating those starlight pictures.

"i'm pretty sure that's the little dipper."

We fell silent because, after all, there's only so much filler conversation on constellations that one can attempt. Strangely, the silence felt more comfortable.

As we lay side by side, yet seperate on the blanket, his hand brushed mine.
clasped.
held.



i smiled in the darkness, and continued staring up at the sky.

fluff

sometimes i wonder if the self i present to the outside world isn't really a container for something unique, more meaningful inside of me. if there is no depth to me, or complexity.



what if all i am.....is the superficial?

the psycho strikes again

my best friend and i recently found out that we were not invited to a party. we're fun, we like to booze, and people generally get along with us. this party also happened to be held at one of our friend's houses.

so why were we not invited?

it's quite interesting actually. my ex-boyfriend from almost three years ago (the one who refuses to let his pride heal because i dared break up with him instead of letting him break up with me, even though by now i've heard from several people that he's hopped in and out of beds from here to china), presented our friend with an ultimatum: him, or me.

needless to say, i, along with my best friend, lost that contest.



but really, it makes me wonder if the ex will ever grow up?
i think after this display, it's safe to say he's got a looooong way to go.

whats going on

i find myself with no motivation to write...at all.



i really don't want to lose that part of me that wants to write.

panicked

i'm at a loss. college is over...and i have no idea what i want to do or what lies ahead for me in the future. i'm scared, i'm overwhelmed, and i feel underprepared. why doesn't college prepare you for this feeling of inadequacy after graduation?

it's not that i don't want to find a job. i just don't know what kind of job to look for.


there is nothing i wish for more than the comfortable security blanket of college. but i know i've grown past that.

i just don't know what to grow into.

confused

i graduated from college yesterday.

i loved college. every single nasty, brilliant, wonderful, scary part of it.

so why don't i feel anything now that i've left it?

Duty

She had been coming here every day since she arrived in England two weeks ago. Buckingham Palace never ceased to amaze her with its air of splendor and majesty. As much as she loved the good ol' U.S. of A., nothing back home could compare to the age and history of the buildings and architecture here.

She had also begun another little ritual as well. She hurried her steps, checking her watch. It was almost time. As the little side gate came into view she smiled. She slowed, meandering now that she was almost there. Gracefully moving towards the tiny bench located right near the gate, she sank down onto the sun-warmed stone with a grateful sigh.

He stood, stalwart and stoic throughout, resplendent in his ornate Queen's Guard uniform, the bright red a splash of color against the dull gray of the wall he guarded. He didn't shift under the warm sun, nor did he blink an eye when she crossed her long, slim legs and adjusted her skirt, seemingly oblivious to everything except his duty.

She looked up at him and grinned, admiring his chisled profile and strong jaw. He had beautiful eyelashes, ones that she tried to imitate every night by torturing hers with an eyelash curler. His nose looked like it had been broken before, but it gave his face character and kept it from being too pretty. He was tall with a lean build, and probably measured around 6'2". She guessed that if she were ever brave enough to get close, she would fit perfectly under his chin. Despite coming here every day, she still didn't know the color of his eyes, but she liked to imagine they were gray, silvery and intense, like image he presented. Gray eyes would suit him best, she thought.

"I know you missed me yesterday. I got caught up in writing. I've been keeping a journal lately, just jotting down random thoughts as they come. There is so much here that moves me; the beauty, the people, the adventure of being in a different country."

She took a deep, flower-scented breath, and stretched out her legs.

"It's so nice to be away. No pressure. I didn't realized how stressed out I was until it was relieved. I stopped to watch an old couple today. They were holding hands as they walked down the street, and he held open the door for her as she walked into the little corner shop. It was sweet and completely natural. They were totally absorbed in each other. I hope I find something precious like that,---something that endures for fifty years or more." She shook her head slightly, not realizing that wistfulness made her face glow gently. "I'm sorry, I'm getting sentimental. It just seeing a couple like that sends a sudden spurt of hope and yearning through me. It's hard to see people living out the secret dream I have, the dream that always seems just out of reach."

She fell silent.

"I don't mean to bother you like this you know. You probably dread me coming every day." She flashed a self-deprecating grin up towards him as he stared straight ahead and silent. "It's just nice to be able to speak to someone without having them judge me,----or at least not speaking their judgements aloud." Her voice grew softer. "I guess I'm just lonely. I feel so small in this city, an outsider here as well as home. It's an been amazing trip, but it also made me realize that I haven't found where or with whom I fit in. Yet I feel completely comfortable with you. Isn't that odd?" she mused to herself.

She rose from the bench in one swift, liquid motion. Gazing at his face, she imprinted it into her memory; her guard confidant.

"I'm leaving tomorrow. The vacation is over. It's time for me to assume responsibility once more. It was wonderful to meet you....sort of. And thank you. For listening. Even though you didn't really have a choice in the matter. I would have liked to have gotten to know you, but I'll always remember this little ritual, and the guard who was kind enough to bear up underneath my constant chatter."

She smiled sweetly, and raised her hand in a jaunty little salute.

"Good-bye, soldier."

She walked off.


Because she didn't look back, she didn't see him break his stance, shifting his head ever so slightly to watch her until she disappeared from his sight. And no one was there to notice as he erased the longing from his eyes, or that as he resumed his position, his hands trembled a little as they gripped his rifle.

random thoughts

sometimes i feel like the connection between my brain and fingers is disconnected, or at the very least, broken.

i have all these wonderful ideas and phrases floating around in my head. beautiful, moving, poignant words waiting, aching, straining to be written and read. yet as soon as i sit down to write, my mind goes as clear as newly scrubbed glass. it's a complete exercise in frustration. it makes me want to tear my hear out by the roots. it makes me want to bang my head against a table, hoping that repeated smacking will jar the words loose.

i just got a whiff of the cologne my ex-boyfriend wears. it caused a sharp, sweet ache to start in my nose and settle around the vicinity of my chest before fading. i'm glad it still hurts a little to think about things associated with him like that. it means that he mattered.

an alumni that i've known for a while is still interested in me, after a date that happened more than a year ago. it makes me wonder what exactly is damaged inside of me that i cannot be interested and attracted to a smart, sweet, successful, good-looking guy who actually appreciates the person i am beyond the physical. i cannot bring myself to return his regard. he is so grateful for any attention i give him that communicating with him always leaves me feeling guilty. maybe i'm bored because he already has given me the upper hand. maybe i'm uncomfortable with being put on a pedestal. i happen to sort of like my imperfection.

i really need to concentrate on issues other than guys.
i give them far too much importance.


i think i need to start exploring my own mind....strengthen that connection between creativity and keyboard.
working on improving another part of me.

and on to....life?

i am really excited about approaching responsibility and actual adulthood. the real deal----an apartment in a different city, zero dependence on the parents, striking out on my own. i think i'm ready for the next step, even though leaving to comfort of college will be difficult and saying good-bye to new and old friends will feel like my heart is tearing in two.

the thing is...


i don't really know if i'll actually be any good at being an adult.


and that's the part that frightens me.

i'll take another year please..

i'm beginning to hate the word last.

everytime i do something lately, that word has been attached to that action. last time at this bar. last time we will do so and so. last day of classes. last last last.

i know that everyone is saying this because they want to remind themselves and others to savor every moment, especially since we are graduating from the biggest party and protective adult bubble ever, also known as college. But for God's sake, i do not need to be reminded every mother-effin' minute! especially by underclassmen who still have at least one glorious year left at this institution. whenever an underclassmen uses the word "last", usually with a look of pity in their eyes, i'm tempted to punch them in the mouth over and over while screaming a bloody war cry of despair and anguish until i am arrested or pulled off.

sadly, i am a pacifist and would never really actually harm anyone.
although it is amusing to picture and helps relieve some of the stress.


so yes, thank you. i am completely and painfully aware that this is my last everything with regards to college.

but for the sake of keeping me from suffering mini-panic attacks every time someone points it out...


could you please pretend that it's not?

nicely done

i am pretty sure that i am attracted to extremely inappropriate guys.

i am also pretty sure that i will pass out in my underwear tonight...by myself.



mission shitfaced...accomplished.

a scene

She walks down a quiet tree-lined street, humming to herself and enjoying the sunlight on her face. A warm breeze swirls around her legs, bringing with it the scent of living things. She loves the walk to work. It's her time to relax, turn off, and to just let herself settle.

He watches her every day. She doesn't ever notice him. He likes the back of the little open air cafe. He's more comfortable in the shadows. He's memorized the way she walks, the color of her hair when the sun hits it just so, and the dreamy smile on her face that she seems unware of. His head fills with music when he sees her. He thinks she's made for soft light, and wonders how someone like her walks alone.

She walks to work every day.
Every day, he watches.

He wishes he could talk to her. just to hear what her voice sounds like.
She wishes for someone to walk beside her. to smile up at and share her simple joy in the day.
And they're both a little lonely.

ah the wonders of a late night

"So, you're probably not going to hook up with me tonight are you?"

"Nope, probably not."

"So i should go talk to that girl over there and see if anything happens instead of talking to you right?"

"Right. She seems pretty cute....and drunker than i am."

And with a slight nod to me, he was off.

In versus out

Describe myself?

huh. i' a huge boozebag---you know, a partier. i like hanging with the guys, and i can take a joke as well as anyone. sometimes i'm scared that i'll never be seen as the girl, just the friend. i love that the guys can hang out and talk to me, but will i ever be the girl to make their breath catch with longing? and will it ever be a guy that makes my breath catch in return?

being around people and talking is my thing, my talent. conversation is the spice of life right? you'd be surprised at how much you learn about people if you just start them off with a couple questions. i wonder if anyone will ever really listen to me. helping people and giving them advice makes me feel valuable, but i don't think anyone notices that even i have something to say sometimes. i can't always be a bottomless well of compassion and comfort. it runs dry. it's hard always being the shoulder to cry on. my shoulder keeps getting heavier and heavier.

i come off as confident, self-assured, and fun. having a good time is my m.o.---everyone knows i'm always willing to hang out, drink a couple beers. Laughing comes easily to me because hey, life is usually hysterical. i'm full of insecurities. no one has any idea how hard it is for me to be cheerful all the time. it's a role i've created for myself, and now it's so difficult to grow past. sometimes i'm bitchy, depressed, or tired. i don't want or need to be happy all the time. i don't think anyone notices that sometimes my laughter has a tinge of sadness about it. i'm laughing so you don't see the loneliness in my eyes.

i'm the terminally single girl. i don't need a guy to improve my life. i always joke about being cold and dead inside. the guys laugh right along with me because they know i can handle the dirty jokes, and i'm realistic about their needs and wants. i mean, my guy friends are great, but not really to the girls they hook up with. i hear horror stories from them you wouldn't believe. i don't want to be single. i don't need a guy but oh, do i want one. someone to hold onto at the end of the night, to chase the shadows away. someone to take my hand, to see the worst of me and still want me in return. someone to do nothing with, someone to bring magic back into the world. someone to keep the hope i have inside from burning out. i'm not cold and dead inside, i swear. i live each day in painful anticipation that someone will be confident and perceptive enough to fight past the facade i put up, and see the person i am inside. i don't want to end up alone, but i don't know if there's anyone who can meet the standards that i deserve. it's hard not to settle.

i talk a lot. everyone says i do. i've always got something to say, and i try my best to put others at ease around me. it takes so little to brighten up someone's day, and not many people realize that. why shouldn't be the one to bring a little sunshine into someone's life ? i talk a lot but don't say much. if you asked people what they really knew about me, if they thought about it, they could probably count the meaningful things i've said to them on one hand. so sure, i talk a lot, but i don't give much of myself away.

so i try to balance between these two seperate sides of me.
sometimes i want to kick the inner me's ass, and other times i want to tell the outer me to chill out.

i'm working on it.

days of our lives

i was walking to work today, which consists of a six minute stroll down campus at 9 p.m for a night shift. it was a cool evening....chilly enough where i had to wear a thicker long-sleeved shirt, but warm enough where i could get away with flip-flops and no jacket.

as i am walking i have my ipod on. yes, i am one of those people. if i'm walking anywhere on my college campus i usually have the ipod going. it's not that i'm trendy, because really i'm not. i just like having a soundtrack to my life. i love listening to lyrics and a melody that perfectly captures the mood or situation i'm in.

anyways.

cool evening. ipod. slightly misty. walking. work. not trendy.

the song i'm listening to? somehow by citizen cope. the combination of the lyrics, his voice, and the music is incredible. as i was listening it caused a spurt of longing so intense for love and relationships, i'm surprised my hands didn't shake. that song makes me believe that my life should be a soap opera. while i was hearing citizen cope croon softly in my ears about kismet i kept looking over my shoulder because i thought "i am sending out waves of emotion and yearning so powerful that something has to happen".

so of course, nothing did.
no one came up behind me and slid their hand slowly into mine.
no one was desperately waiting for me when i walked down the stairs to work.
there was no shock of eye contact with a mysterious stranger.

so i kept walking to work. alone.

but everytime i listen to that song i fill up with anticipation. with belief.



and that, my friends, is some powerful shit.

here comes the bride..

my dad's best friend got married today. confirmed bachelor turned loving husband. for me, it meant open bar and my first real wedding celebration.

it was simple, and sweet, and romantic. every couple in the room had memories in their eyes when they looked at each other, when they danced, when they touched. it almost hurt to see the amount of emotion in the room. it made me lonely. but in a good way.

because it crystallized exactly what i want for my future.

it's finally here

i find it extremely difficult to be cranky or depressed when the warm, sunny weather kicks in. there's an excitement in the air, an anticipation. winter is over and we get a fresh start. everyone knows that when the temperature reaches 65 and above that good things begin to happen.

warm weather ushers in skirt season. easy to slip on flip-flops become the shoe norm. warm weather means longer days, nights like silk, beautiful sunsets, and coronas. it means beaches, drinking until the sun comes up, and the drive to make every moment last. everyone looks better in the springtime. fresher, brighter, happier. it's easier to laugh with the sun on your face.

speaking of which, my friends' porch is calling my name.

sometimes life doesn't get much better..

than sitting in my room with the windows wide open, with nothing coming through except muted music from the apartment below, birdsong, and a soft breeze.

it's always the simple things.

i think the problem with dreams...

is that sometimes you get so caught up in them, you don't make it happen in reality.

they get so huge that nothing can live up to them....not even the dreamer.

but dream. dream small, dream big. always dream.

but don't make dreams your life.
make your life-- your dreams.

a kick in the ass...but in a good way

as this writer has kindly pointed out, i've been a bit whiny lately.

alright, alright....a LOT whiny.

while i'm getting depressed because of graduation, drama, and all the sickeningly lovely couples that seem to be popping out of the bushes left and right, my state of mind---is mostly my fault. i've let myself become stuck in a rut. i'm unmotivated because i don't motivate myself. i'm tired because i choose to be irresponsible. and i'm alone because i'm afraid to put myself out there and look like a fool. what i didn't realize was that i was already being a fool.

spring has arrived and in addition to doing some literal spring cleaning, maybe it's the perfect time to figuratively spring clean, well, myself. throw out the old insecurities, step outside of the box. i've been fooling myself into thinking that i've done everything i could to get results in my life, specifically my love life.

in reality, i've just been hiding. from new experiences, new situations, new feelings, new guys. ive been content to remain within my persona of "cool chick/drinking buddy" without forcing people to look beyond that into a person who consists of not only the drinking buddy, but so much more.

so time to grab the bull by the horns.



or maybe in the case...the guy by the balls.

is it too much to ask?

i want to make a connection. i want someone to meet and then actually pursue me. someone that makes it exciting for me to go out. i want the interest to linger, instead of fading after that first meeting.

what happened to dating? to delving deeper into the person at a movie, over entrees, or even during a casual walk. when did it all become about the bottom line? about how much you guys could get us to agree to at the end of the night? about seeing if you actually could get us to come home with you?

i'm sick of being interchangable. of being one more girl in a bar. one more notch on the bedpost. one more pair of lips, breasts, and ass. i'm so frustrated with guys refusing to differentiate being girls. i hate how they are scared to get to know us....because then they wouldn't be able to objectify us and leave us behind. if they knew us, they would actually like and respect us. god forbid.

i want to shake them. to make them actually look at me. to notice that i have blue eyes, not green or brown. to realize that i have a brain, and i like beer and sports and hanging out. that even though i like all that stuff, i'm still a girl who has a secret fondness for baby animals, and hates scary movies. i want them to see that i am so much more complex than how i come off. that they can't just take me or leave me. that i am someone worth holding on to. that i am a person, not just a girl.

i have a reputation of being hard to get. the girl that no one really can really make any headway with. and that's hard for me to hear. because i don't like being cynical. i don't like having to try to assess the hidden motivations of every guy i talk to. i hate having a shield around me, and i hate only being able to trust guys just that far.

but wearing my heart on my sleeve has only gotten it hurt.

so i'm still looking.
connection. heat. sparks. interest.

here's to hoping that someone comes through.

alcohol seems to apply every aspect of my life..

i bartend. every friday night i go down to this hole-in-the-wall college bar with my fellow bartender, hop behind that long piece of fake wood, and serve college students that i hope to God are of legal age. it's decent money and now that i'm thinking about it, an appropriate analogy for my life.

when i'm bartending i have to be happy. flirt with the customers. more flirting equals more money. i should also look somewhat presentable. a little clevage always helps. and i listen. to peoples' sob stories, their problems, and their truimphs. all while serving beverages that will probably help them make more bad decisions that i will almost certainly have to listen to in the future.

meanwhile i'm getting tipped quarters. at the end of the night my feet hurt, my smile is faltering, and i've gotten screwed out of money because people are too cheap to actually be generous. i've gotten yelled at, shot dirty looks, and have had to deal with at least two kids getting kicked out. and i'm there till late, cleaning up other peoples' crap.

i've just begun to notice that the same rules apply to my everyday life, with little changes here and there. instead of flirting with customers, i flirt with boys. looking hot and showing clevage is also necessary for any sort of progress with them. i am known as the "happy-go-lucky" girl, so when i don't feel like being cheerful, people usually steer clear.

i still listen to peoples' stories. apparently i give off the air of being a good shoulder to cry on. i just can't seem to find anyone who wants to return the favor and listen back. at the end of the day, my heart hurts, my smile is faltering, and i've probably gotten screwed over---by a guy, a friend, or by circumstances, because people are too cheap with their feelings and honesty to actually open up. i've still gotten yelled at, shot dirty looks by other girls, and have had to deal with more drama than i can handle.

and i always end up cleaning up other peoples' figurative crap.

what if

i think i'm ready to graduate.



then again..


maybe i'm not.

nothing isn't as fun as it seems

i have a whole lot of nothing to tell.

no guy action, a lot of schoolwork, and sleeping or working. nothing inspirational or beautiful has happened to me in a while. i'm in a funk and it sucks ass. a lot of things have been bothering me lately, and it's all building up into one big ball of shit. i have no motivation or creativity. everything is starting to bog me down.

because i'm tired of gossip. i'm tired of drama. i'm tired of my friends being weird for a night. i'm tired of being bitchy. i'm tired of not having fun. i'm tired of worrying about the future, of being alone, and of watching what i say. i'm tired of people not being real, of rumors being spread because there's nothing better to do, and of having to work to try to find what underneath a casual flirtation.

i'm just so goddamn tired.

overwhelmed

where did all this work come from?

i feel like an avalanche is poised to drop on my head.




god, i hope i can survive the tumble...

one means alone

i think one of the loneliest feelings is needing to reach out with your soul and body,

but knowing that it isn't the time or the place to do so.

Ohhh, back to school, back to school..

Back at college.

Picking up where i left off.

Being a drunken human wrecking ball that is.

baggage check please

i am so sick of my baggage. my first ex texted me last night at 3 am. of course it was appropriately dramatic and grandiose.

"it's awesome that sports is finally over...and i'm drunk...and all i ever wanted was for you to be happy...is that so wrong?"

one, why the f is he texting me in the first place. two, i love how he gives himself an out by declaring he's drunk so it's harder to call him out on the text and on the fact that he's probably not drunk at all. three, i'm glad he wanted me to be happy, but it infuriates me that he uses that fact to make himself seem like this unbelievably good, altruistic person when in reality he was obsessive, jealous, superficial, and so arrogant that it made others vomit.

and i am happy dammit. maybe not all the time, and maybe not the happy that i eventually want to be. hell maybe it's not even the happy that he would think is worthwhile. and i don't care. because it's a happy that i myself am trying to find and achieve, without anyone's help, thank you very much.

he really should try out for soap operas.

this way he reserves the drama for the screen,


and keeps it the hell out of my life.

a deep breath

easter break is coming at a really good time. i need to get away, clear my head, and get my priorities straight. i also need a break from hard-core college drinking. my liver is about to go on strike.

and nothing beats my bed at home.

major reading time while snuggling in bed.

::rubs hands together excitedly::

when i was the coolest person in the bar for two minutes

Tension was high. we were down three cups and everyone was watching. we weren't even supposed to be in this tournament. Beirut Partner and i both knew that we should be doing at least four other things on a Sunday night, with work and sleep being at the top of the list.

But now we were in it to win.

Hoping and praying to make some headway, i shot.

::Splash::

i heaved a huge sigh of relief. the hockey guys we were playing looked down at the cup contemptously and kept talking, leaving the cup on the table.

Beirut Partner took her stance up behind the line to shot. i leaned over, "You realize we're getting slammed right?" She laughed and turned back to shoot. The ball left her hands, arcing high.

::Clink::

Dead silence. Then chaos erupted.

"DEATH CUP! THEY HIT DEATH CUP!!!"

now Beirut Partner are jumping up and down like we just won the lottery, people are cheering, and the smile on my face hurts it's so wide. i'm hugging my partner so hard i think her ribs were cracking, and it is one of the only times in my life that i was okay with squealing like a little girl.

Beirut Partner stops for a second, looks across the table and points her finger at the cocky hockey players standing stunned just five feet away and barks, " You. Lose."



i'm still grinning thinking about it.

afternoon commentary

while sitting on the porch in front of one of my friend's off-campus houses in the early afternoon drinking beers with the boys and heckling our fellow college students passing by, it was commented on that i was the only girl drinking with ten guys, and that i was the only girl drinking at 2 in the afternoon, period.

"*Work in Progress*, how come you're the only chick that likes to hang? everytime we call you, you're always up for hanging out."

i thought about it for a moment.

"Well you guys have beer. and i know that when i graduate....these are the kinds of things and days that i'm going to remember the most."

They all turned and looked at me.

"That's deep, WIP."




that's right.
i am deep.

a moment of me

i am hopeful.
but beneath the surface, i hide a secret sadness. i am confident in my personality and ability to talk, yet extremely self-conscious about my looks.

i hate small spaces. i present a cynical mask but am a secret idealist. sometimes i wonder if i am the only one to think certain thoughts. i am dead loyal once i give my friendship.
i forgive easily but i won't forget.
i feel the most alone when i wake up in the middle of the night.
sometimes i am still afraid in the dark.
i wish my dreams were real. i've lied to smooth a situation over or to prevent hurt feelings.

does that make me a bad person?

i dance in front of the mirror when there's no one else around. i dance better when i'm alone.

i wonder if i will ever be happy with myself. i hate making mistakes. i am harder on myself than any of my friends or family. i wonder if i will be a failure. i can hold a conversation with a brick wall.
my mother and i don't get along and i don't know if we ever will.
my dad is hands down one of the coolest people alive.
my sisters are my best friends. i don't know what i would do without them.

i've never lost someone really close to me. i am worried that my character might not be strong enough to handle loss. i have deeper, darker secrets than anyone knows. every now and then i have nightmares about those secrets.

i have learned life is ugly. i have also learned that life can make your heart pause in the best way possible. i don't think i have ever really been in love. i know i haven't had my heart broken. i love falling into a new crush. i despair of ever finding the guy that fits me and all my rough edges.

sometimes...i feel so lost.

i hate crying. i let things slide off my back too easily. i am learning to stand up for myself; that holding your ground is necessary although mostly unpleasant. i'd like nothing better that to disappear inside a book.

i wish magic existed.
when i was little i wanted a pony.
now that i'm bigger, i want a dog and a pony.

believing in myself is one of the hardest things i've ever had to do.

when i listen to songs i make up music videos in my head. i get embarassed during certain scenes in movies. i can't help it...i get too involved. i'm working on the ugly, scarred parts of me.

i'm imperfect.

i'm intelligent, funny, and proud to the point of stubborness. "i'm sorry" is one of the hardest phrases for me to say. i don't know if i'm being the best person i can be.

there are times when i get so caught up in life, so full of the wonder of it that i feel like i could float away. i love laying on a guy's chest and listening to their heart beat. i want a grand passion. i want the fireworks, bells, whistles, and the flawed ever after. i don't want perfect, i want real.

i don't need to know that a rainbow is light fracturing through water droplets in the air. i just need to know that something
as beautiful
as a rainbow
exists.

i listen better than you think. i have many acquaintances but only a handful of truly close friends. i yearn to experience something out of the ordinary.

and i dream. oh, how i dream.

any good apples?

every day i am more and more disillusioned with the male half of the human race.

i start to believe that there are actually decent men out there when i meet a guy who has a personality, can hold a decent conversation without bragging about his athletic ability, workout regimen, or how much he can drink, is attractive in the right way, and can laugh---really deep-down belly laugh without feeling self-conscious or conspicuous for actually having fun in public. i click with this guy....really click. our vibes were doing the cha-cha. He offered me a ride back from the bar, and i accepted.

so i let him kiss me.
i let myself kiss him back.
and it was glorious.

we were laughing, talking, and having fun. he tasted right, kissed right, and knew exactly where to put his hands. there was no awkwardness, just an easy comfort with a flash of heat that i slipped right into with a mental sigh.

i chose to make the smart decision and go home, instead of giving into the easy hookup. i had to congratulate myself on my good decision because it soon became evident that the guy had some baggage---in a big way.

he has a girlfriend.

what's worse is that while i'm discouraged, frustrated, and that much more unwilling to look for decent guys...i'm also not really surprised.

i don't know which is more depressing: that this guy turned out to be an illusion, or that i'm starting to expect all guys to be empty underneath the surface.

drinking and dreaming

lately i have been getting lonely...especially when i'm out and drinking. ironic how you can feel lost and alone in a sea full of people. how the very amount of people emphasizes that there are no real connections being made. or maybe not.

it's not a pretty sort of lonely either. i'm not sitting at a table with a sadly mysterious look on my face, nursing an elegant drink like a cosmo, and musing intelligently on the state of my singlehood while guys are drawn to me, wondering just what lies beyond all that sadness. it's more like i'm in a hole-in-the-wall bar chugging down cheap beer that's labeled wrong on the tap so that when it says you're drinking miller lite you're actually swilling down genny lite. more like my makeup has melted off, there's beer all over my shirt because i either spilled it on myself or someone bumped into me, and i'm blearily wondering who i can call, text, or flirt with late night so that physical closeness will help me pretend that maybe someone does care about me in a meaningful, intimate way.

it would just be nice to feel like at the end of the night, someone is wondering how i am. someone wants me to call them. someone wants me.

once a baby always a baby

i wish that when my mother and i interacted....that she wouldn't give me advice with a sneer in her voice.

it makes it very difficult to be mature.

to blog or not to blog..

i blog. i write about my feelings, thoughts, and the deepest, most vulnerable parts of me are exposed to the general public. it's mind-blowing, terrifying, exhilarating, and a little crazy all at once. i mean, anyone can see my writing.

it's a risk. people don't always like what you have to say. feelings can get hurt. what i write isn't always nice or beautiful. i'm just as prone to mistakes as everyone else. i can be hurtful and nasty. i can be ugly. i'm not perfect by any means. for that matter, i'm probably as imperfect as they come. so sometimes blogging comes back around and slaps me in the face.

but i can also be kind. and loyal. and funny. i can be uplifting or completely ridiculous. i can laugh at myself and my tantrums. i can discover the whys and hows of what i do. i can see my dreams and hopes take shape before me. and writing is an outlet for me. something that lets me be completely and totally honest with myself, even though what i think and feel changes every day. something that allows me to look back and chart how i've grown and learned.

the world can see what i write, and who i am.
i choose to make it so.
it's scary as hell.
but what makes it frightening also makes it great.

only human

Hemmed in,
on all sides.
Surrounded by decisions.
The worst kind.
Mistakes chosen,
but not put away.
Dug up again,
like old dirty skeletons;
Ghosts that just wont
go away.
I fight to break free,
but it's an iron cage,
a dead end,
a patch of quicksand.
All my struggles do,
is drag me deeper.

taking notice

it's amazing how grateful we become for the little things when the big things go wrong.

keep on keepin on

maybe this will get easier if i just concentrate on making it through the day.

maybe this will make me a better person.

because that stupid trite saying of "Everything happens for a reason" is the only light at the end of my tunnel right now.

oh the sting of hypocrisy..

i made up with Best Friend today. because really....who am i to point fingers?


"Judge not, lest ye be judged"

Looks like the Almighty had it right after all.

isn't it ironic..

isn't it painfully funny that the people who have the biggest dreams and the most creative imaginations, the burning desire to be completely unique,

are also the ones who are tormented by the awareness of their averageness every day?

a five letter synonym for mistake

i received a facebook message from Best Friend today. it was an extremely long apology letter claiming deepest regrets about what happened in Miami.

she's sorry. sorry for breaking girl code. sorry for being selfish and drunk. sorry for cheating on the good guy friend that i had set her up with this summer with the guy that i was interested in. sorry for being sketchy and lying about it afterwards. sorry that she's apologizing in a facebook message. sorry it took her this long to apologize.

sorry. sorry. sorry.

i'm so tired of having people apologize for harmful or fucked up behavior weeks after it happens. i'm tired of them apologizing and then hoping that everything will go back to the way it was. like relationships can time-warp. if it's wrong and you know it, it shouldn't take you that long to 'fess up. maybe the problem is that i chose to form relationships with people that have weak characters.

so she apologized. which is a good thing, i guess. better than if she had never apologized. but i'm over it. i was over it two days after it happened. now i'm just indifferent to the entire situation. and to her.

i wrote back. mostly about how i was confused about our friendship, and that i was more hurt about the lying and changing stories after the whole thing had happened. i wanted respect for my intelligence at least. i mean, i heard them having sex. you can't really lie about something that obvious or audible.

this puts me at a crossroads. should i try to fix this friendship? should i turn my back? do i even care at this point to make either decision?

am i desperate enough for friends, and so afraid of being alone that i might turn a blind eye to everything that's happened?

i just....don't know.

new promise...or outfits

Spring is here.


Here's to the sluttier outfits that drunken college girls will start to wear again to compensate for lack of personality.

hoo-ray.

word vomit

Do you ever catch yourself listening to other peoples' conversation...


and then hoping that you don't sound as stupid as they do when you are talking to someone else?

i'm goin down down..

my life is quickly spiraling downward.

first the keyboard on my laptop suddenly decides to just stop working. thus i have no access to my writing, aim, or my email. no outlet to express myself before things get so built up inside me that i explode. in other words, i have been thrown into a black hole of communication. it's sad that i am this dependent on my computer and the internet but i've accepted it and moved on. thank god i still have my cell phone.

i have also been making a rash of bad life decisions. like putting off my work until it becomes a mountain of shit that i can't see over, not doing anything about my future after college, distancing myself from close friends, and having a one night stand with the local bartender.

yes, i did say that last part.

i don't know how to stop the train wreck i am becoming. i KNOW i am not that person who is so desperately lonely that she'll go home with a pretty face. i KNOW that i have ambitions and dreams and the means to accomplish them, but day after day i find myself in the same place. and i definitely know that i am worth more that what i am right now.

it's like the part that is me, the real me---the core, is relegated to the little voice in the back of my head, and that voice keeps getting fainter and fainter.

i need to do....something. fast.

help

i have just evaluated my life and realized that i have no money, no job or job prospects, no concrete plans, and no real skills that would be applicable in the real world.

eep.

who are you

i've been tired lately. so tired it's a struggle to make it through the day. i don't know if i'm still suffering aftereffects from spring break or if there's something else wrong.

i've also noticed that i've been extra-bitchy as well. i have no patience for the people around me. it's getting harder and harder for me to stay up-beat and optimistic. at least in public.

i don't know what's wrong with me.

i just know that i am slowly becoming someone i don't like at all.

oh the stupidity

A text conversation with Hockey Boy this morning in class after a late night of drinking:

Hockey Boy: yeah way to leave last night last night w out tellin me (i was not aware i had a babysitter who needed to be informed of my whereabouts at all times. i apologize. next time i leave to wipe my ass i'll be sure to let you know.)
Work in Progress: sigh you guys were doing guy things and i was drunk and tired (and by guy things i am including all cup-crushing, loud chanting, beer-chugging activitites)
HB: yeah i mean a good bye would of been nice lol (obviously the repeated yeah's mean he's hurt/pissed and the lol is a way to hide it)
WIP: i hate good byes
HB: yeah well i mean i look away for a sec and then your gone. (did i mention the incorrect usage of your and you're is a pet peeve of mine? and why the hell would you be staring at me all night? creepshow.) i would of driven you back (oh no you wouldn't have. you would have been drunk and sloppy. you also would have tried to get me to stay over, or would have followed me back to my room like a lost puppy).
WIP: Yeah but this way no one had to be bothered. i walk home all the time.
HB: yeah i know but still (this is the point at which he knows he has nothing to go on and is now just whining about a situation that has already happened and can't be undone)
WIP: No sweat. I'm a big girl (but obviously not a bigger girl than you, princess)
HB: fine fine (ah, an intelligent, definitive end to the conversation. nicely done)

this conversation was conducted at 10:40 in the morning. he's acting like i was the "inconsiderate girlfriend". i think he's forgetting one crucial fact-----I'M NOT HIS EFFIN' GIRLFRIEND. nor do i ever want to be after this display.

can anyone say smothering?

for real...how come the only guys who are attracted to me and actually pursue me are bigger whiny bitches than i am?

why now?

i feel..... lost.

uncertain and unsure.

and i don't know how to find my way back to solid ground.

beers and such.

i went out to the local irish pub near my school with a bunch of my guy friends. rugby players. solid down home boys. in other words----hard boozers. we had a couple car bombs, chased them with a couple pitchers, and sang horrible, drunken karaoke.

it felt good to slip back into that type of atmosphere.
good to be out in a sweatshirt and not trying to be more attractive than all the girls around me.
good to be around people who cared about me...not the me i present to the world.

so yeah.

welcome home.

she failed

my "best friend" fucked Miami the first night we were both there. i slept in his walk-in closet and tried to pass out despite the sounds of sex coming from outside the door.

once again i am left disappointed in the quality of my friends.

maybe i should come up with some sort of test or survey.
this way i won't be at risk for putting time, effort, and emotion into friendships that aren't worth my time.

come onnn

i do not get involved with people for a reason. especially those of the opposite sex. why? because they always take things a step too far. i break things off and they remain emotionally involved with me for a ridiculously long time.

i have had two serious relationships. not a lot of experience i know. but i've dipped my toes in the waters of committment. needless to say, i decided to get out of the water quickly. i've also ended both relationships. i didn't end them because i was cheated on, or because we fought a lot, or because of something dramatic. i ended them for the simple reason that i was dissatisfied. maybe it's because i'm a perfectionist, at least when it comes to who i date. but the relationships i've had, once the first glow had worn off, didn't feel quite...right.

so i ended them.
and hurt both of them.

i hurt for them. really. i hate causing anyone else pain. but it would have been much more painful to pretend to feel something that i didn't, and it might have damaged me beyond repair. i can't lie about about feelings. they're too important.

but although i hurt for them, i get extremely frustrated when they can't let me go. in this case, the subject under fire is my first ex. i've been broken up with him for two years. TWO YEARS. i understand it's hard. i understand he had a lot of insecurities.

but when i recently get a dramatic message (via facebook of all things. did i mention in addition to being an arrogant jackass, he's also a coward and drama queen? no?) that sounds like it came out of a movie script, i am understandably stunned that he is still so torn up about our breakup. because i'm over it. yet from what i can gather from his random message, he cannot even have a casual conversation with me through any medium because it makes him think about me. and thinking about me hurts. so i should just, and now i'm quoting, "Leave him be....please".

does anyone else find this to be as pathetic as i do?
he sounds like he modeled his message on the script of a badly written soap opera.

i don't feel bad for him. if he was genuinely hurting i would. but it's been two years. and i know he's enjoying the single life. the simple fact is my ex loves drama. and his ego still cannot recover from the fact that i was the one who ended things.

so bring on the girlish, catty, emotionally retarded facebook messages.

they amuse me.

what if

sometimes when i wake up in the middle of the night with no one beside me,

i wonder if i'll always be alone.

college fever

i need to get away.

away from the same people, same location. away from from places i get drunk at way too often. away from what seems like the same night over and over, only with different outfits. away from the realization of my rapidly approaching adulthood. away from cold and wet and wind. away from a situation that is rapidly becoming too complicated for me to handle.

my solution?

Miami.

it even sounds like what it is. decadent. warm weather, beautiful blue water, sands dotted with beachgoers, and hundreds of miles away from here. i'll be with girls that i choose to hang out with, girls who don't cause drama and whose main priority is to see how intoxicated they can get and still get stand. my kind of people.

the thing is....there's a boy in miami.
and he happens to be the person that my friends and i are staying with.

i know, i know.
but he's really cute.
and fun.
and grown-up with goals.

he makes my immature, guarded little heart flutter.

so even though i am going to miami...it looks like i might only be trading one complicated situation for another.