Well, well, well....what do we have here.

I put far more effort into avoiding work than I do actually working. It amazes me that I will expend so much planning and energy into calculating the least amount of effort I can put forth and get the most out of it. This is how I know I'm a true capitalist. I know that if an economist were to follow me around for a few days (or better yet, a semester; then he or she could really get a feel for the ebb and flow of my market gains and losses) they would learn enough to get our nation back in the black. I'm not sure who said it - Bill Gates, I think - and going with the theme of this post, I'm too lazy to Google it, but someone famous once said to give a hard job to a lazy person, he'll find an easy way to do it.

That. Is. So true.

I will expend enormous amounts of time and energy on calculations- "how many times can I hit 'snooze'? Do I really need to shower? How many pairs of underwear until I'm out and simply MUST do laundry? If I make my punctuation marks one size bigger, and adjust the spacing after a period, I can stretch this to a whole extra half a page!"...when I really think about it, it seems exhausting.

I always get to this point in the semester. I woefully look backwards and think- "If I would have started outlining and reading supplements in October, this week would be a breeze." But no, in October I was agonizing over what I would be for Halloween and whether they were going to add another season of Pretty Little Liars to Netflix.

Priorities. I have them.

This all eventually leads me down a rabbit hole of despair; I start thinking about all of the trips I haven't taken, the friends I haven't had coffee with, the deep cleaning that needs to be done, and how I stopped working out in September. It all starts to engulf me and I feel like I'm wearing a really heavy, wet wool sweater. An ugly one, at that.

I don't know why I do this. Maybe I'm a masochist. Maybe I get a rush by 'winging it' and hoping that yet again, I'll get pretty high marks and think to myself "Muahahaha. I didn't even WORK for these!" But still. If I DID work...if I WERE to put in the effort that I should be- not even the effort that I COULD be putting in- what would I be capable of?? The thought kind of scares me.

I could sit here and BS a resolution, "I'm never procrastinating again. Next semester, I'm designing a study plan and I'm going to study every day for 8 hours...." No. That's not going to happen. But I'm seriously at a crossroads with myself. I'm realizing that I'm my own worst enemy. I have kept myself from countless opportunities only because I didn't feel like working for them. I mean, what is that? Next semester, I am going to try harder. I'm going to create structure for myself. I'm not going to beat myself up for the stuff I haven't done, but I'm going to applaud myself for the stuff I have. I'm going to say 'no' more- no, I can't help you with your test, I have my own to study for. No, I'm not buying that wine tonight. I have 125 pages of reading. No, I will NOT watch 'just one more episode' of whatever on Netflix tonight. Mostly, my problem is telling myself no, but if someone I care about needs help or attention, I'm not going to turn them down.

Basically, I need to teach myself willpower. I need to be strict with myself and create an actual, structured study plan. I need to work out more and drink less wine. Basically, I need to grow up.

That was really hard to write. It's really hard to face yourself and admit that you're 25 and it's time. You look around at other young professionals owning houses, getting married, losing weight, learning new languages and you realize that they've started to do something that you just refuse to get on the bandwagon for- growing up. But it's time. It's time that I start accepting myself for who I am and loving myself for it. It's time I start planning for the future- physically, emotionally, and mentally. I need to start laying a professional groundwork for the future. I need a freaking savings account.

But I think I'm ready. I'm done creating hell for myself and then feeling sorry for myself when that hell sucks. I'm done beating myself up and hating myself for things that I could easily change. I'm done casting blame on myself and others. And finally, I'm done holding myself back. I won't change overnight, I can't. But I'm sure as hell ready to get started.

I like knowing I have public anonymity

I wish I could run away and write.
                                             I wish I could find a cute cottage next to a beach that I could put a big barnwood desk in, right by the front window, facing the ocean.

         I would put frothy white curtains at the window, and I would light sandalwood incense at night.

 I could focus on  my thoughts; I would paint pictures with words and my sentences would be so poignant, their literary lattice work would curl around the smoke emanating from my incense sticks.

                            It's not about being on vacation or escaping having to work and be part of the real world. It's about wanting to be part of my own universe- apart from this twisted world we live in.

soooo....I got published :)

A short story

Maybe It's Best You Leave Me Alone

Melancholy music. That's the type of mood I'm in. Melancholy music and 2:30 am don't mix well. This is where overdoses and random property damage are born.

 This Monday a friend of mine from high school passed away. After wallowing in misery for a week, completely focused on how horrible of a week it was for ME, I'm starting to realize my own self-centeredness (is that a word?). The problem is, the little five-year-old egoist is clinging to my heart and brain, unyielding in its control. I WANT to learn a lesson from this, but I can't pull myself from the mire that is self-pity.

 I need one of those slaps.

 You know the ones. They're in movies and shows, one semi-major character is having a freak out about something arbitrary- a test, money problems, a pregnancy scare (okay, I haven't seen that one, yet, but it made for a good progression) and the other character, usually one of the main, beloved ones hauls off and SLAPS THE CRAP OUT OF THE OTHER.

 And no one gets mad. The slapee holds their cheek, looks offended for a moment, and then realizes 'Hey, I NEEDED that!' and the other character comically over-shrugs and they calm down and get down to the business of figuring out how to move forward. I need that. I keep saying 'My life is falling apart. My life is falling APART. MY life is FALLING apart.' and all other variations of emphasis. I feel like I'm on a runaway train heading for a broken trestle (for those of you that don't know or didn't read Water For Elephants that's a bridge over a ravine of sorts).

 Thus, I am forced to make a list.
 I'm employed.
I have a car.
I have a home.
I have a phone.
I'm getting a degree in a matter of days.
I'm heading to law school in a matter of weeks.
I'm finally having a successful love life.
 I have the best group of friends anyone could ever ask for.
I have a family. And while I'm the Black Sheep, they still care.
 And best of all? I have a LOT of fun. A lot.

 For the first time in my life, I'm pretty much happy or content with every aspect of it. So why is it when I think of the future I can't breathe and I get tunnel vision? Am I that terrified of the unknown? I mean, I've always hated surprises and lacking control, and don't get me started on how much I despise change. As I focus in on each little thing, I have countless blessings in my life. I'm grateful for these, but I'm still confused as to why when I look to the big picture everything gets all fuzzy and impossible. Blerrrrrrrrrrrrghhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 Okay, I feel better.

See, I would attempt the 'Pull yourself together!' slap, but I'm hesitant for many reasons.
 1) I don't the pain that goes with the slap, regardless of who gave it to me
2) The lack of surprise would greatly reduce the effectiveness of the slap, I daresay it would render it pointless
3) Crazy people hit themselves. I'm not crazy, I'm eccentric. There's a difference. I swear.

 I digress.

 I'm currently having a territory war with a gnat. I do believe this is where I cross over from eccentric to crazy. As we cross into 3 am, I'm debating just staying up all night, though I think that would prove to be disastrous.

Yeah...I think it's time to turn in. I just downloaded an entire Otis Redding anthology with some Monkees and Garth Brooks. I'm totes going for a country drive tomorrow. Warm, sunny, windows down, soda in hand with Otis Redding's raspy, magical voice floating out of my cute little jalopy's speakers. That sounds perfect.

 Cheers.

An Update of Sorts...

Well, as these things go, I am not graduating in December of this year as previously thought. I had a very wise professor explain to me that law schools do not begin until September; if I were to wait and not go to school within those few months I would be unable to defer my loans for that period of time.

Oh. Well then.

Somehow I doubt I could have afforded paying those back on minimum wage. Alas. It's ok, though. I'm taking it slowly and pacing my classes so I don't get too overwhelmed. Plus, as long as I'm a student I can work at the NPR station on campus, and I kinda like this gig.

Harumph. Yes, I said harumph. I feel like you don't have to be an octogenarian male to be able to pull it off. In other news, I'm in a cantankerous mood and it's boiling in this production room. I feel a little bit like a lab rat under heat lamps. It's a matter of time before they start rewarding me with cheese for pressing differently-colored buttons.

First Thought: ADD really helps with the whole 'blogging' thing. Keeps a nice, jumpy pace. Who likes flow? Not this girl!

Second Thought: Bronchitis sucks. I feel like it's not fair for a sickness to last two to three weeks (according to WebMD).

Third Thought: Standardized tests. Uber blah.(Dingdingding we have a topic for me to rant about!)

Next time :)

Not sure if this is any good....

I haven't written in forever, and I just started again a few months ago. I don't really share them with people. There's probably a reason for that.

This one is unfinished....


"Almost, But Not at All"

When you start looking
Pass me over
Your love would be wasted
And your wounds will remain unhealed

I'm the land mine
In your field of opportunities
Lying in wait
For your heart to fall into me

Others have been here
They've created this monster
Carved from the stones of insecurities
And breathed into life by fear

You may imagine
That you can change me
But no one can succeed
Though many have tried

I am the animal
Stalking my prey
Waiting for you to become weakened
So my kill will be that much easier

Understand my pleas
And see that it's what's best
I know what I'm capable of

I'm a Sucker For His Charm....

I've never, to this day, met anyone I can honestly say that about. I'm not sure if it's my own complete lack of allure or that in this century the possibility of meeting someone with any type of charm or charisma is almost null and void, but it would be so reminiscent of an older era to surround myself with that type of person. However, when one discusses charm, it's always in a 'HE has charm' type of sense. This is true in historical context as well. When you think of charming men in history you think of Cassonova, Romeo, Henry VIII (hey, he had to be charming to keep getting women even after he banished/killed the ones before them, charming or the women of the time were insanely stupid, which I highly doubt because they found ways to survive child birth in a world where eating rotten beef was a common place occurrence). But when one tries to think of women in a charming sense, you think of people such as Jezebel, Delilah, Ann Boleyn- women that beguiled and fooled men into falling into their traps. Women who were eventually punished for their indecencies and for fooling poor, unsuspecting men into doing their bidding and therefore tainting the pure of heart. Typical. Men are "charming" and women get labeled "Jezebels" "Flirts" or "Bimbos". To quote one of my favorite movies, "I'm really starting to understand this puritanical ostracism that Hawthorne was talking about...."

My friend Jennifer told me she found me 'charming'- I believe that's kind-speak for 'you're crazy, but entertaining'. And hey, that works. Labels don't concern me anymore. After spending years agonizing over what people would label me and trying to cultivate the right label for myself, I'm too tired to do so. I would look in the mirror on a daily basis and ask myself 'does this fit the label I've given myself?'.(Which, by the way, I feel as if as much as we as a society complain about the labels given to us by others, we spend a great deal of time putting Hi My Label Is ________ stickers on ourselves. Maybe next time we complain we should look inward instead of pointing our metaphorical accusations at the general populace). I know who I am. I don't need a glittery bow and a lip ring to show that I'm not like any other girl you've ever met. This took me quite some time to realize but once I did it was like a huge weight off of my shoulders. I've had this constant dichotomy inside me of who I really am and who I was portraying myself to be. (Not that I don't like glittery bows- who doesn't??? I just don't feel like I'll lose anyone in my life if I weren't to pin them in my hair).

This cursor on this page is quite friendly, encouraging even. As I'm attempting to write a paper it becomes more and more evil and insistent. It's like my mother waiting for me to get ready for church. I feel its theoretical eyes boring holes into my face, just daring me to attempt to type a paragraph that it will in turn force me to delete because of its sub-par use of information. It's like it knows that I'm ill-prepared for this debate and that I can barely focus on my tasks at hand given the litany of other things clouding my already foggy mind. I should probably confront it, maybe invite it to therapy to work on our struggling relationship. The cursor (whose gender is undecided at press time) will talk about how I don't push myself hard enough and that it's tired of waiting around for me, while I'll counter with that I need to do things at my own pace and it should respect my work and create a more work-friendly environment. It will in turn tell me it knows I'm cheating on it with the Facebook and blogger.com cursors, to which I'll say that I'm not cheating, I just enjoy spending time with them more than it).

(Which we all think is NOT cheating...right?? RIGHT?? Ok, maybe not all of us. Actually, only a few of us, and most of those are my ex boyfriends).


Well. Upon the therapist's suggestions, I need to go spend time with my cursor, it's feeling neglected.

You know you love me XD