More Procrastination with a Side of Stumble Upon, Please

Ignore the fact that I have research at 11:30, a test at 2, a paper due by 5 and another paper due tomrrow morning. No, just ignore it. Because I can't.

Today is one of those days where you wake up feeling one simple, syllable emotion: Fucked. Luckily, I have found that there are some great ways of getting around this ever so undelighted fucked feeling.

-Stumble Upon. If you have not stumbled yet, go do it now. You really won't regret it. Some favorite I have stumbled on are virtual Pollock-ing and "10 Ways the Next 10 years will be awesome." And all those cute pictures of baby animals that seem to frequent my stumbles.

-Dream of homes I will never have. Unless I find sugar daddy. Then I can finally have my wood panelled mansh in Rhode Island and my hacienda villa in California. Ahh, a girl can dream. Or at least spend hours on realtor.com.

-Complain to somebody about how much work you have. It doesn't really matter who you complain to. No one is actually listening anyways.

-Sudoku. Thank you, Daily Orange. For your adequate journalistic coverage of Kid Cudi's new album and for awarding me my daily Sudoku fix. It appears this world is not all evil.

-Look at The Knot, The Nest, The Bump. Am I the only girl in the world who is a sucker for all things domestic? I mean, I can't be. That's what the 50's were all about, right? But how much fun are these sites!!

-Stare at the snow. Because at this rate, it's the only thing outside to stare at.

-While snow-staring (snastaring!)- one also might to make themselves a nice hot cup of cocoa and some oatmeal. Mostly just because that might be all that one may or may not have left in their kitchen cabinets.

-Update your blog.

-Keep updating it even though you have nothing else to say.

-Keep updating it even if you understand you will leave your readers unsatisfied and annoyed.

-Keep going.

-Do a nice arts and crafts project!

I am so fucked.

You Can't Call it a Pattern if it Only Happens Twice

You wish this was becoming a Daily Blog. Alas, it is not. I just had life news that I really wanted to share.

I'M PUBLISHED!

Well, it's only two of my poems in Verbal Seduction, Syracuse's literary magazine. But it's a start. I'll take it where I can get it. Most of the time.?

I like little achievements. Hopefully they mean bigger ones down the line.

For my Ginger

"There is no excuse not to write..."

I'm sure some famous author wrote that once, but really, who's keeping track?

Life has been... life. I have been busy as hell. Broke my leg. That was pretty damn dramatic. But thankfully, and unthankfully at the same time, I am nearing the end of my last fall semester here at Syracuse. This means a few things.

I have refused to accept the fact that some of my best friends are graduating this semester, or going abroad next. Though this refusal is cathartic at the time, I am worried for the moment it hits me next semester.

I have narrowed my career possibilities from 2 to 5. This seems like a step backwards. Current options include event planning, hotel management, human resources, special events coordination, and publishing. And potentially just fucking the world and going down to be a damn Disney Princess. I had so much fun last Halloween that its starting to seem like a potential life choice. This is what senior year is doing to me.

I am more thankful for things in my life than I ever have been before. Whether it would be my incredible, romantic boyfriend; my absolute best friends or my endlessly loving family- I am appreciative. And falling in love with all of them all over again. Bring it next semester.

Happy, Kath?

Retail Therapy

There is one thing I like more than complaining about money, and that is spending it. With finally a few dollars to play around with this summer, I did what any normal 20 year old with extra cash would do: I went shopping.

Now, I am a very tricky shopper. I inherited my mom's sense of "gotta have it NOW, try on everything, buy everything" along with my dad's "If you don't need it, you don't buy it" mentality. So I will shuffle around from store to store (In this case, the mall and Targeé), maniacally throwing clothing off of racks and into messy piles of haphazard hangers in my arms. I will then rush to the nearest fitting room, armed and loaded with the first batch. When I enter the fitting room, one of three things will happen:

1. I will try something on, admire it, weigh it's "How good does it make my ass look" compared to "How expensive it is" and develop a ratio. The process gets very complicated and mathematical here.

2. I will try something on and immediately obsess about all the ways it makes my tummy fat bulge. I will keep the garment on for about 2 minutes, stuck in my own head, and then throw it off into the not-in-a-million-goddamn-years pile.

3. I will fall in love. Hard.

50% if the time, it's number 1.

30% of the time, it's number 2.

10% of the time, it's number 3.

10% of the time, my boobs don't fit in it.

After returning all of the number 2's, I go out and see what else there is for me. During this time, I second-think the one's I'm not sure about. And though I am not proud to admit this, usually I will casually desert a good majority of them randomly about the store. Anyone who works in retail, feel free to hate me. My rationality behind this is as a caterer, I am constantly dealing with other people's rejects, and they don't even think twice about throwing away an empty beer bottle or a napkin. Why then, when I'm shopping, should I get rid of my own unwanted items? I know, I'm still an asshole. But whatever.

So after abandonning about 25% of my clothing in the home furnishing/men's wear/cosmetics departments, I head to the register. My pile drastically reduced, and my confidence level that much higher. I triumphantly swipe my barely used debit card through the machine. Ahh, life is good. I am a smart shopper.

Who perhaps needs therapy for the way I use retail therapy.

I Like Lists

10 Things You May Not Have Known About Me:

1. Only one thing shares my bed with me nightly- and that is Jazz, a stuffed animal horse I have had since I was about 5. Jazz is a girl, as demonstrated by the eyelashes I sharpie'd onto her eyelids. And I love her. Toy Story was a hard movie to get through.

2. I'm a god awful waitress, but I am a great caterer. This may seem strange, but trust me they are very different fields.

3. I'm living in Rhode Island after college. This is not a request. It is a demand.

4. The one thing I really miss about my ex boyfriend was that he used to buy me My Little Ponies on important holidays. I really, really like My Little Ponies.

5. Though I do think my current career goals are feasible, and may make me happy, I still really want to work for Us Weekly and report on celebrity gossip until the day I die.

6. theknot.com and thenest.com are two of my favorite websites. Yes, I am aware of how creepy this makes me sound.

7. I do not have a good head for hats.

8. I put off taking PSY 205 until senior year because I knew I would want to be a psych major after taking the class- and listening/counseling is more of a hobby to me than a career.

9. I am an obsessive phone pacer. If I'm talking, I'm walking.

10. This past year of college (and the preceding summer) was the best year of my life. Following accordingly, this summer has probably been one of the worst of my life. And by that I mean boring. And by that I mean I am doing a blog entry at 2 a.m. on a Saturday night/Friday morning. There you go.

popping The Question

12:47 a.m. July 12, 2010. I sit on my bed, laptop in its usual place on my lap- heating my legs up with its usual, familiar warmth. I sit here, thinking about the future.

Ah yes, she has begun. The inevitable phase of every college kid's blogging career where they discuss The Question and their potential answers to it. The Question, of course, is "What are you doing after school?" The strange thing is, I am starting to see answers materialize. I'm starting to make up the potential answers, which (shockingly) might not be bullshit.

I am starting to have a vision of some things that I want. I can see an apartment in Providence with my Red Jeep parallel parked outside. I can see a cute little Shar Pei puppy and a handsome boy greeting me as I walk in the door. Paying bills by doing catering jobs on the side, getting drinks at an outside bistro with friends, looking up recipes on my iPhone. I can see a Life.

And perhaps most importantly- I can see myself going down two potential career paths. I think I've realized that there are two that I could see myself being happy in- Publishing or Event Planning. Of course with my luck, I'll end up in neither, but let me go into detail.

Publishing has been a dream that started somewhere in journalism, tapered when I decided I wanted to be a shameless celebrity gossip columnist and then blossomed again when I became a writing major. Besides selfish aims of wanting to be a published author myself, I enjoy reading the work of my peers. And I can sift through pieces like a bloodhound on a trail I swear to you. So there's that. Then again, I have little patience for bad writing, so... there's that.

Event planning has a bit of a funnier back story. I've been catering and waitressing and all-things-food-ing since I was old enough to work. Easy money and free food. Bingo. But a strange thing happened to me last semester, during my Five Hundred Thirty Eighth hour of Dome-ing. I LIKE what I do. I like doing displays, picking out colors and planning events. And I'm actually kind of good at it. I never thought that I would want to make a career out of it, but there you go. And with my minor (major) addiction to all things Wedding and Home Design- we'll there's that.

So with all the answers, there comes more questions. And perhaps my answer to The Question is a bit more complicated than the necessary response, which usually involves "Time Shall Tell!" or "I'm WORK-ing on it. Ha-ha! Get it?" Maybe I'll just torture people by memorizing this entire entry and reciting it whenever I am asked- that'll teach these people with their questions.

P.S. Please only comment in English. Appreciated.

A Wish Be Granted

Well, it's nice to be back full swing in the blogging world- I just wish I had more to say at this point. I'm barely working at a job that promised me hours and waiting to hear back from another (Tuesday!). While my friends talk about their exciting internships and summers filled with travel and adventure, I am stuck on Timber Lane not doing much of anything.

This summer has not been a bust- I've been to New Hampshire, Syracuse, Pleasantville and Rhode Island. That's pretty impressive. But mostly, I've just been sitting in Connecticut.

But I will stop moping. Yesterday was probably the best day I've had in a while here. I got my hair cut and got bangs- something drastic and different to keep my spontaneous self alive. Then my mom and I had a bit of a girls day, shopping around the mall and day dreaming about iPhones. After dinner, my friends invited me to a get-together in Woodbury, and I decided to ask my brother to come. Strangely, he agreed, so we took the 45 minute trip out there to go see my high school friends. It was an experience- to say the least. My brother got to see who I am when I'm around my friends- which is completely different than sit-at-home-and-be-bored Me. We got into some crazy conversations about our family, and the past. At the end of the night, he told me "I finally understand you". Sadly, the only problem now is I'm not sure I fully understand him yet. I guess time shall tell on that one, and maybe this summer will be more about getting in touch with my roots than anything else.

Just This Once

I sat there feeling something, as we drove down the familiar roads. The sun was in the moments before setting, and a yellow glow was cast throughout the car. I could feel every dip in the old road, and with every bump Kate's sleeping head would jerk and readjust on my shoulder. It felt.. calm. And then Lauren looked to me and said, "Do you realize that this is the last summer vacation we will ever have?"

And I knew she was right, of course. I have thought about it- somewhat subconsciously. But Lauren saying it, in that moment, just made me really think about it. We were headed back to her house after a full 24 hours of fun and reckless behavior. We had partied the night before, deep into the early hours and nearly "Breaking the dawn". We then all woke up way too late with major hangovers and decided to go on a hike and swim at a local river. And then get ice cream. So here we were, driving back, exhausted and feeling the pain from our hike. Half the car was drifting off into sleep as Matt fully controlled the music. It was calm, sweet, fleeting.

The Usual Suspects

I expect change, constantly. I expect myself to make things happen, to be spontaneous and to change my way of life. But something about being home just makes me fall back into old routines, old frustrations and old ways of life. But such is hometown life.

This summer I have been adamant about making things happen and retaining my spunkiness, even in the face of a boring summer. I landed a nice catering job, have been hanging out with my friends near daily and have already gone on some ridiculous road trips. I think I'm breaking out of the funk.

But I seem to be alone.

When my mom moved back to Cheshire, it was to be with her mother- my ailing grandmother. She came her to be a nurse, to provide company and to rebuild her relationship with her mother. Things I can totally respect. She uprooted her family once again to take care of her mom. But I'm worried she isn't taking care of herself. It's a routine, every day. The same routine. Wake up at 6 a.m. Go to work until 5. Come home. Watch the news with Mom. Eat dinner precisely at 7. Walk the dogs. Watch a movie with Mom. Fall asleep. Repeat.

I came to Cheshire this summer to spend time with my family, and rebuild my own relationships with my parents. But she is so hesitant to break out of her funk. I have suggested going out for icecream. Going on a walk on the bikepath. Going to a local classical music concert. She rejected every one. "I want to spend time with my Mommy," she would say. And I would silently agree with this sentiment, and then wonder why her time with her mother was so much more important than her time with me.

Maybe I am being selfish and unreasonable. She wants to spend time with her ailing mother before she runs out of time. But I don't think she's letting herself live. I'm worried she has fallen in a funk and it's not one I know how to get her out of.

Ask and Ye Shall Receive

After much anticipation... an update. It's nice to know you all missed me while I stepped out of the blogging world. But it's summer. And I am back. Literally

I am fresh from my weekend jaunt to New Hampshire with Alex and his family. And I survived! Though mildly sunburnt, covered in bug bites and in desperate need of a shower, I survived. I was whisked away in the Subaru Carriage by my Prince Bishop on Friday afternoon, and we arrived at the castle (cottage) in Keene that evening. It was nice to be in New Hampshire, it reminded me so much of Vermont. I miss that rich, New England-y feeling that those two states offer. And the cottage was perfect: in the middle of the woods next to a big pond with tons of land. It was such a get-away. And Alex's family is great. They're crazy in the best way possible- always moving around, arguing and doing things. They know absolutely everything about everything, which can be a bit intimidating. But they're good people- you can tell. And boy, did they put me to work. We moved around ridiculously heavy rocks by using acient technology. Broke firewood with axes and chainsaws. Started to build a treehouse. Weed-wacked. Learned how to tie complicated knots. Took trips to Home Depot (!!). I felt productive as I tried to keep up with the brawny Bishop men, but also exhausted.

It was not all work and no play. I got to meet my boyfriend's "second family" in New Hampshire. They have tons of family friends with rambunctious children and even more rambunctious adults. It was fun spending time with all of them- drinking, hearing stories and attempting to play badminton. I blame the alcohol more than my hand-eye coordination on why I did so terribly, but meh...

All in all, it was an excellent vacation. The 3 days felt like they lasted forever, but in the nicest way. And it was so good to spend every waking moment with Alex again (come to think of it, most of the sleeping ones too), even if we didn't really have any privacy. By the end, I felt accepted- like I fit in. And that's really all I wanted.

Well anyways, that's enough for now. It's good to be back, blogging world :) But goodnight. I friggin need some sleep after that weekend.

Friend and Foe

With another semester comes more fights, trouble, and the usual drama.

I don't mean to sound all depressing and ridiculous, and I don't consider myself to be tooooo much of a drama queen, but I feel like every semester there's more battles to be won, people to ban against, and bridges to be burnt.

To be honest, I'm sick of it. I hate when best friends aren't strong enough to stick together, and I hate it when people I thought I could trust turn against me. I can't tell if it's because I'm cynical or because I just have that hippie mentality at heart- but I am burnt out. I just wish everyone could just get along. Fight the necessary battles- but then come out on top- closer than ever. I feel like that never happens anymore. We are all so quick to give up and go on.

The sad thing? I'm just as guilty as everyone. I do it- I start drama, I burn bridges. I like to think I give people the benefit of the doubt and just go with it, but this semester has proven to be just as dramatic as any other.

It just sucks. We're all in college for such a short time, enjoying the company of each other. Make the most of it. Make love- not war. ah-ha-ha

Spring Break Broke

Here I am, my 80th hour in the JFK terminal traveling back from Fort Myers and to Burlington.

It's been a trip. And it ain't over.

In a spur of the moment decision, I decided to drive down to Westchester with Alex and our friend Tim. We just thought it would be fun, and we figured my sister could get me a flight out of Westchester to Fort Myers pretty easily. It worked, and we drove. My evening with Alex's family was an experience. I was terrified, but I made it through. It was easier than I thought it would be. We ordered Chinese (I proudly consumed my full serving of dumplings and ALMOST didn't spill), and then watched Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs with his little brother and friend from home. I woke up to kisses from the most adorable dog in the world, and left to continue my adventure.

Fort Myers was INCREDIBLE!!!!! Whitney's house was beautiful, and it felt like I was legitimately in paradise. We got to lounge pool side, talk late into the night and sleep late in the day. We got to go to the beach and act like stupid drunken college students with minimal regret. And the weather was decent- not entirely too hot- but better than Syracuse. It was so great to have bonding time with my friends. It was just us, hanging out. No schoolwork, no boyfriends, no APO (sorry, but true). It was just FUN. Though I didn't even get a tan, I bought a sweet tie-dye hoodie and managed to eat an entire box of Lucky Charms in about 3 days. Definitely doing something next Spring Break- it is too fun to pass up. But I don't know if I'll ever be able to top this one. Leaving this morning was really hard.

That brings us to this moment. I have been stuck at JFK since about 2 p.m. and I am sincerely hoping to get out of here within the hour. I will get to see my pregnant mess of a sister, my lovely parents as they move out of their house, and my BRAND NEW (1996, whatever) CAR!!!! Then Sunday, I shall drive back to Syracuse and this break will all be over.

I'm still grateful I'm only halfway through it.

The Fleeting and The Futile

I am a woman who understands that things are fleeting.

Since my freshman year, everything has just felt very temporary to me. My parents moved out of our house and to a new state, and are now moving back again; my college friends keep appearing and disappearing and reappearing; relationships, friendships, classes, hair colors...

Everything changes very quickly to me. I haven't felt a lot of consistency since I moved out of my parents house two and a half years ago.

Because of this, a few things have happened: I don't care about change. I tend to be overly appreciative of every friend or place or boy who enters my life. I lose ties easily because in the end I cannot stay connected. And I drift. I just am not steady.

A realization kind of hit me hard today: I don't need to cling to keep the people I love close, nor do I need to push them away once they are at a distance. People who are in my life are there because they love me and they want to be there. And people who care enough about me to still put in the effort to keep in contact with me once I'm/they're gone- that's a pretty amazing person to have.

With every semester, with every graduation, every move and every hair color- things are going to change. Sometimes distance won't mean a thing, and sometimes I am going to be left in the dust. It's the facts of life, and it's a weird one to accept.

Damn you college, damn you.

Side notes:

Watch Dexter. Seriously. Now.

I danced my ass off this weekend, and I love it

I am currently locked out of my apartment- so enjoy this blog entry.

A Day in the Hole

Today was one of the first times in a long time that I have been sick due to something other than a horrible hangover. How sad is that? Anyways, I skipped class, procrastinated on work and dreaded the fact that I have to get my sick ass up and go to work tomorrow. So really, it does almost sounds like a nice little hungover day.

I have no idea what brought on this sudden bout of sickness, but feeling as shitty as I did made me want to do a few things. First, I slept. I slept until 2. With the exception of a few praying to the porcelin God trips. I thought I might be able to catch my class at 2, but I was still sick and hating my life. Second, I called my mom. Because honestly, who wouldn't? And alas, she did not pick up her phone. I cursed the fact that working people cannot actually talk to their sick daughters when they are past the age of 20 and it's before the work day is over. And then I cursed being independent all over again. What the hell, world?

Third, I decided if I was to start to eat again, I wanted to eat nothing but soup, saltines and some good ole Canada Dry. My roommate's car was broken, everyone else was in class, and there was just no chance of getting any of my beloved sick treats. I settled for tomato soup and water. May I reiterate: What the hell, world? What the hell.

When did being sick stop being something awesome, and start being more of a pain in my ass? Sick Days were something to be cherished when I was in high school. Your parents felt sympathetic, the TV was yours and you could sleep without care. Now, all I feel is worry over missing class, pissed that no one was there for me, and stressed that I have to feel better by tomorrow so I can go to work.

This friggin sucks. That is all.

Laziness and Cornerstone

Wrote this for a class, thought it could double as a blog entry to make you all anxious in your seats. Enjoy. ;)

Trepidation crept throughout her body. She sat at the kitchen table, drumming her bitten fingernails against the checkerboard vinyl tablecloth. She heard the stove clicking off somewhere in the distance, but she didn’t waste too much of her time thinking about such things.

It must have been past midnight, must have been. What could be keeping them so long? She didn’t want to, but she started thinking about the worst possible outcomes. An accident. They’re terribly lost. They’re never coming back. Why would they even want to come back? All of these possibilities were somewhat illogical; she knew that. But then why couldn’t she stop thinking about them?

She suddenly realized that she was sitting in stark, stale darkness. The only sounds were the ticking of the stove, repeating every few seconds, and the anxious sounds of her fingers drumming against that damn tablecloth. It was a car crash. I’m sure of it.

She felt suffocated by the blackness of the room. She started breathing quicker, quicker, quicker. Too quick, too much: I won’t suffocate myself. Not now.

She abruptly left the uncomfortable, wooden chair and decided to turn3456222 off the stove. Her body burned with each step she took, but she continued on. She suddenly felt very, very old. Go back to the chair, go back to the comfort of sitting. You’re not well. She turned on the overhead lamp, which blinked on and off, as if unwilling to comfort her in her loneliest hour, and then decided to slowly emit a soft glow to the kitchen She repositioned the purple flowers sitting in a small vase on the vinyl tablecloth. The flowers were an impulsive decision. She decided that she wanted the room to look like it was out of a furniture magazine. The big Fingerhut one that made the owner look put together, classy, normal. It was all about the presentation, she knew that better than anyone. Everything is about how you present it to others.

Quickly, her head jerked up. Was that the sound of a car? It was definitely something. She knew she heard something. She peered through the blinds and saw nothing but the street lamp at the beginning of Cornerstone. She kept peering, peering. Something was coming, she knew it. She could feel it in her bones. She didn’t know if it was a car, but it was something. She could feel change, and she was anxious. This is good, things are going to be so good. I know it. She kept her eyes peering through the middle of the blinds, and the stove began to tick again.

And That is What it Takes

Just ordered Chinese food for one. Now watching Grey's Anatomy, waiting for my food- and I just finished my homework for tomorrow.

I have found my niche.

It has taken longer this semester than before to get comfortable. To figure out my schedule and get a feel for what this semester is going to be like. I felt myself falling behind in the first week- I forgot folders, slacked on assignments, didn't even give my all to a digital project that normally I would go apeshit over.

I am not entirely sure what I can blame this on. It could have been the abnormally stressful work week, the lingering disappointment over my new APO life, the horror of trying to balance my social life and my relationship- a seemingly impossible task by the way. I guess maybe it was a bunch of things.

So apologies for not updating my blog. Apologies if we got back to school more than a week ago and I still haven't seen you. Apologies if I seem distracted, or distant, or like I don't know what I am doing. There is a ton I need to accomplish this semester, a ton I would love to accomplish, and a ton I need to basically get through.

I just need to find my way back into the groove.

Dramatizing the Un-Dramatic

Life has been surprisingly normal.

Some normal, expected things that have happened:

1. I went to the gym for about a good 2 weeks, then stopped.

2. I already started drifting off in the middle of one of my classes... on the first day.

3. I ran into an ex-boyfriend and his girlfriend when I looked like total crap.

4. I cleaned 2,000 salad forks, 300 creamer pitchers, organized 300 baskets of tea and sugar baskets, and then subsequently decided I hate my job again.

5. I went to the cubicle hoping people would be there, but alas, the class of 2009 was nowhere to be seen. Nor was the abroad lady that I already miss. Or even the people I would have actually hoped would be there.

See? Normal. No drama. I always joke around with my roommate about how freaking dramatic my life is. Usually I have some crazy boy dilemma, or I'm dealing with issues from home or something just strangely dramatic happens. Not so much recently. I'm going to class, hanging out with my friends, going to work... being normal.

So why does it feel so mundane?

I've had this constant fear for most of my life that I am a drama queen. And okay, I like a healthy dose of gossip. Especially that of the celebrity variety. But who doesn't? And I do have a tendency to put myself in awkward situations, but I think that's more just because I am an awkward person, rather than me secretly self-sabotaging. I cite a Cute is What We Aim For song lyric to explain this further... "Drama doesn't follow me/It rides on my back." Good song, by the way. Download that one.

Maybe I am dramatic. Afterall, I was an actress for a little while back there in high school. And I am a writer- and as we know, writers LOVE to get inspiration from life events, especially dark and depressing ones. And I have always been emotional, so I guess dramatics usually fall in line with being an emotional person. So maybe being dramatic isn't all that bad? If I'm a drama queen, at least that means I can find ways to entertain myself and keep it all from being so mundane, right?

Regardless, hopefully some interesting things will happen sometime soon, so at least I will have something to blog about ;)

xx

The Realities

Alto Cinco turned into Taco Bell and a post coming soon turned into "not much to say before a golden globes viewing party."

I'm happy that everyone is coming back to Syracuse, really happy. But the reality of some situations is starting to set in. The reality that this is my last semester with some of my best friends. The reality that some of the friends I've made are gone already. The reality that in just one more year, I will be entering into my last semester here, and the reality that life continues to go on.

The reason I'm feeling this way is because I got a call from my mom this morning being all, "I was watching a movie with a college graduation and started crying thinking about how this would be you and me next year!" Insane...

This semester is going to be great. I'm making it great- it's happening.

Why to Not

Post coming soon. For now... Alto Cinco!

Enlightened I Believe

Just finished devouring the Lost Symbol by Dan Brown.

I cannot deny he is one of my favorite authors to read- I get transformed into a different world when I read those novels. I feel scared, excited, nervous and eager to understand. Something about them makes me devour his 500 pages in two days- 400 of which were read today.

Perhaps I'm just really bored being stuck back in Vermont.

Complicated story short: Mom moved to CT, dad is getting transferred from his job in a few weeks. Have house up here until March. Brother is going back to college next week. Sister is moving out Thursday to her own place in VT- the day I go back to Syracuse.

I only just got back from my CT visit yesterday. Already, it feels like it's time to be on the move again. I'm not sure if I reached a certain age where I just can't live with my family anymore, or my tolerance just decreased when I distanced myself, but it's just sooo hard living with these people now.

I think this is mostly because I am just really different from the lot of them. The mostone: I like to keep things moderately clean, moderately organized. The rest of them don't really care about that, so they throw all their crap everywhere and wait for someone else to deal with it. I just get claustrophobic when the house is too messy or when things aren't where they are supposed to be. Lord knows where I inherited this from. noticable

Generally, when I come home I just want to be left alone. I want to do my own thing, and relax. Sadly, my family has no intention of letting me do that. Finding the time to read Dan Brown undisturbed turned into more of an elaborate game of hide and seek than anything. I eventually ended up doing most of my reading in the downstairs bathroom- let them assume what they want.

Don't get me wrong, I love my family. I would defend them until the end of time, and will always come "home" (wherever it is home may be at the time) to be with them. These home trips just might be shorter at the end of the day, in order to keep myself moderately sane. As sane as you can be as a Merwin.

Sans Scripta

This has been the laziest week of my life. I think it's safe to say that this vacation was meant to be a restful one, but I need to start becoming an active member of society again. This is kind of killing me.

An interesting life update:

I found my blog from when I was about 15 years old. Ridiculous stuff. My old livejournal account where I would literally give a recap of my day and gush about the boy(s) I liked. Highly, highly, embarrassing and highly, highly entertaining. It made me remember a lot of things I had attempted blocking out, and a lot of things I was sad I had forgotten. I'm debating whether or not to post the link here, I don't think I'm ballsy enough to do it though.

It made me think about this blog, and whether I am going to look back on it in 5-10 years and think I sounded like an idiot. Chances are, I probably will. Hopefully the writing is a little better now in this blog than it was in my livejournal days, and maybe the subject matter is just a tiny bit deeper. I think I can safely say I have not once used this blog as a way to post meaningless online quizzes and surveys, or to recap about why my day SUCKED because my dad forgot to pick up my favorite grinder from Denmo's. Regardless, interesting thing to think about. I guess I better start trying harder on these blog entries if I want to make it something good that I can remember in the future.

The Clanking of Crystal.

Happy New Years everyone!

It's been an insane decade to say the least. I am glad to say that I survived the Oh-Oh's (My self appointed nickname for the last decade).

I can remember the Holiday Party I went to in 2000. It was my mom's friends house. There were about 10 kids my age there- no one I knew and/or liked. I fell asleep before midnight, and by the time I woke up- the millennium had appeared without noticeable change in my life. It was a shitty way to welcome such a milestone. But I survived, I suppose.

I made it through middle and high school, obsessions with Backstreet Boys and Eminem. Movie crazes like Finding Nemo and Star Wars. The Twilight and Harry Potter sagas. The Y2K meltdown. The twin towers attack. The wars. The peace. The familial drama and the transitions from middle to high school to college. I survived! So there's something.

I could not have rang in the 10's (that one needs work) better. Alex came down and picked me up in Connecticut, where I had been staying. I got to show him a little taste of CT life (like the Brass Mill Mall! Ooooh!) and got to give him his amazing present that I have been talking about for weeks.

The magical present? A glass pineapple. See, he has a strange obsession with pineapples (I do not question such things), and one of the first nights we hung out- before we became an "item" as my mom likes to say- he told me about this glass one he really wanted. Acquiring said pineapple would require possible school expulsion, so I instead got him an imitation. The gift went over well, I'm happy to say. As far as I know, it is still sitting in the coffee cup holder in his car- which is fine with me. I like knowing it's there.

We headed to Poughkeepsie, NY, to go to our friend Mike's house. It was an amazing evening. We drank, ate tons of food (filet mignon? yes please!), hung out in the hot tub, and were just generally merry. The group was reunited, and it felt good. I loved being surrounded by people who cared about me, and with no B.S. It was so simple, so easy, so right.

Sadly, we separated the next morning. A trip to a local diner completed a fantastic New Years. After a few hours of dawdling, we parted ways. It was sad, but it made me so excited for next semester. Everything is so solid right now. It feels good

So I'm ready for the 10's. I'm ready to graduate college. To see where my love life goes. To see if Lady Gaga goes the way of Britney Spears as far as mental breakdowns go. To see if we can survive 2012.

I'm ready. I started this one off right. :)