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.