A Year Over A Quarter Of A Century Old

Today, I turned twenty-six.

Last year, I was twenty-five. I had a list of things I wanted to accomplish, a few only having been truly checked off.

My first was to run a 5K. This was so incredibly important to me, and my best friend Mandikat made this happen. She started her own journey, and instead of being selfish, she prodded me to join in with her on her body experiment. I began to run, every day. I listened to zombies gnash at my heels, every day. I was able to focus on myself, for once, and I found out how much control I could really have over my life, body, and, most importantly, my happiness. And I did two 5Ks. I thank her for that every single day (at least, in my head I do. Sorry for not always being as verbal, Mandikat <3 p="">
My second was getting another job that got me over what was considered average for my age mark money-wise. I amazingly found this during the fall, when I could have been considered at my worst. It took me some time to make a decision about if I could actually make the jump, and then it was actually doing it, all the while inner emotions/turmoil dispersed around me like fireflies. The lights would blink, showing me all the things I could have--but then it would go dark, and I'd be lost for those few moments, floating around in limbo as I shook, debating on what was right and wrong, and if I was strong to do what I wanted to do. I not only took a deep breath and took the plunge, but I also found it was one of the best decisions of my life thus far. I gained my social life back. I found new friends. I learned that working at a company can mean being more than a minion. I learned the value of fifteen minutes--and how much gas that would be. I also learned more about family, and how to live with my brother again. I'm pleased with this.

My third was to find more about myself in love. Seeing how my previous years I was too scared to really dive in, I promised myself that a quarter-century was long enough. I realized that, after running and realizing how life was without a social life, I was ready for love. Not just some crush as I've had in the past, but a good steady position. It wasn't that I wasn't afraid of getting hurt--it was that I saw that I could handle that hurt, and knew I'd be able to get through it if I was rejected. This was the most difficult for me. I've always struggled with this, but I was determined to not let anything deter me.

I found out that not every guy is honest. I got that because there was a guy in which I made a connection, and for two months, we spoke non-stop every day through messages, sharing stories and experiences. It was simply amazing, how much we had in common, and I'd finally found someone at work who got my nerdy behavior. After those two months, I mentioned him to a coworker, who promptly told me he was engaged to someone else--and he'd never spoken a word of her to me. It was the first time that I saw why a girl would try to steal someone away from another. I "got" it. And it wasn't me.

I also realized that not every guy is who they say they are. A single guy for a week wooed me, and I found out that he was not only a swindler of hearts, but he lived with his ex-girlfriend, with whom he had a child, and also had another child, the same age, with another. All working at the same place.

I picked up a stalker for a couple of months.

I especially saw that guys were not the assertive behaviorists they claimed to be. The amount of guys who accumulated crushes were embarrassing--but even more so that I was told about them when I was leaving my old job. None of the guys I would have seriously considered, but the fact that they were all very outgoing guys, it was very disappointing to find out that no one had the balls to say anything (especially since I was none the wiser).

The closest I would say that I would have come to "love" was dashed away so fast, and so complicated, I don't think I've really ever gotten time to really discern it being over. It's the first time I lied to friends about being okay. The first I was dishonest to myself about being okay. And the hardest thing I've tried convincing myself out of.

Friends have told me that being friends with someone you had any romantic things with is basically impossible. I took this as a challenge. I thought I'd proved them wrong. But, as it turns out, disassociation is the only thing that takes away the confusion and allows you to move on enough to be friends. If you disagree with me, then the other person is going through what I'm dealing with, which is: trying to not take things personally; assume that every single action/spoken word means absolutely nothing unless clearly stated in a factual way while staring at your face and is willing to sign a testament that it is indeed truth; comparing every single other opposite sex to the commonalities that seemed to work so well; wishing they'd never see you again; wishing they'd somehow see you again; wishing they'd see you again but with them over you and having you see what you missed out on, even though they want your happiness at the same time; wishing they could somehow meet NPH (this doesn't really have to do with relationships, but I assume that every single person in the world wants to do this, which is why it was added to the list).

This last thing I've somehow learned the most about, and yet absolutely nothing. Every time I seem to have learned a new truth, it's completely negated in another form. Love-hurt has basically become a virus in my eyes--it slowly becomes immune to behaviors, and you just have to keep coming up with more to block what is inevitable, and you just keep coming back to the traditional friend support system that is considered your herbal supplements. They work, but they just don't prevent it from happening again.

This love taught me that you sometimes need to accept things and walk away. You can never fully understand why some relationships don't work, despite it having every sign pointing to "YES". Neon signs. With their own arrows pointing to those arrows, and people taking pictures of those to place on the internet for others to make memes about because they're ultimately jealous of what was found. This love taught me that connections can be denied and pushed away. That it really is up to each individual what they decide to do with what is laid upon a table. And that I will sometimes just never understand why someone would say 'No' to what is seen as a great opportunity.

It taught me the importance of placing blame on no one, and the patience of healing. I found it so dramatic, and still do, and it wasn't love (way too fast for that), but I was definitely infatuated with the happiness and feeling, and, being myself, I know I can take growth from this per usual and, eventually, I won't look back at the moments and miss them. Eventually, I won't have a hope that is there simply because I don't want to feel sad at the potential anymore. And I eventually will have all of the gears working on the same machine rather than some keeping a door open "just in case" because I don't like burning ideas to spread ashes in the wind for others to use in their gardens unless proven for the best.

So, love wasn't checked off the list. But learning about myself in love was. So was making new friends, facing my fears head on when they arise in a situation, trying new things I'd typically say no to because I judged it too quickly, embracing life every day because it's too short, singing every day, allowing myself to be vulnerable around others so they can see I am a person, too... and not allowing a mishap with a shot at love determine that I won't attempt again.

Twenty-five was an amazing year for firsts and rediscovering. And the bonus about being this young is that I can repeat that for so many years to come. I find that I'm blessed several times over, and I'm always surprised at this. And, the fact is, I think I always will be surprised. But I'll never be not thankful. How can I be when, after so much struggle, I have so much more outweighing on the scale that shows epicness?

This next year will be even better. Challenge accepted.

As a Clam

I was asked tonight by a friend (perhaps jestingly) why I always find things so amazing in life. We were watching Elf, just for a fun film to laugh at while talking, and I was particularly happy over my paper crown I'd gotten from my Christmas cracker.

"It's just tissue paper," he stated, having almost crushed the purple crown when I'd taken it off to lay down on the couch.

"Yes, but it's a crown," I replied, pick it up. "And see, when I put it on..." I slid it back over my head. "Now, I'm a Princess!"

He kind of shook his head/chuckled.

"They're amazing!" I said.

"Why is everything amazing to you?"

I gave him an easy reply: "Because it makes me happy and it is amazing."

But the answer wasn't easy to come to.

As I've previously stated, I've gone through a lot of questioning and different situations to get to my point. And while I changed to get here, I'm sure I'll change again. The important thing is, I'm where I'm at now, and it's where I feel I should be. I took the easy reply because we'd been drinking and there were quite a few different people around that I felt I'd never be able to really tell the story, but on the drive home, it got me thinking as to how I've gotten to see the world through eyes that see wonder in everything.

It really began a year after I graduated. I was living with my parents, stuck at a job that paid mediocre and wasn't very uplifting, and I had no friends around me for hours. I was thankful for my position, as not very many people had a job, and a safe place to be, but I was bored and lazy and in a monotony. I'd been exercising every day, but the endorphin wasn't quite doing it.

I wasn't living.

Now, I have a vice. It's not necessarily a normal one (and certainly not a fetish), but odd enough that I don't go around telling the world I do it.

I absolutely adore Korean dramas/romantic comedies. Particular favorites are My Princess, I Need Romance, and, to a certain extent, Flower Boy Ramen Shop. I cannot explain why I choose to watch these, especially in how much I despise the American soap operas. Maybe it has to do with that they eventually end after a season or two? Rather than dragging on into oblivion...

Whatever the case, my life changer was watching Scent of a Woman. I was going through a tough time. I had finally gotten a year into my job, and I was learning the ropes of a newer part of my job. We had to put down my dog of 12 years, a day before my birthday, and I had been taking care of her hand and foot as her back legs were giving out--it was the hardest thing I've ever had to do, as her mind was completely in tact, yet her body just couldn't handle life anymore. And I was also getting to a point of grim acceptance that life wasn't meant for excitement anymore, and I was an adult, and this is what it meant to be an adult.

Scent of a Woman is about a woman who worked hard her entire life, placing everything she wants on the back burner to save for money and a future that doesn't seem to be coming. She once used to be someone who laughed and was strong, but now she was taking care of her mother, and everyone else that needed help. She didn't bother with looks or anything too much money, as it "would all come later." Close to her 30s, she goes to the doctor to find that she has cancer, and is given only months to live.

At first, she isn't sure what to do. But, after one more straw of being falsely accused of stealing at her job, she quits and immediately starts to finally live her life. She takes out her savings, gets the make over to what she wants, takes a vacation... And meets a guy. They end up dating, and she doesn't tell him of her situation, but she has a bucket list of things she wants to accomplish, from the simplest forms to the most unrealistic. One by one, she begins to check them off, with the help of her boyfriend who finds out her condition.

The show made me laugh, cry, and really look into my own situation. It made me think of priorities, and the choices I began to make those last few years. I had become a 'no' person, never doing anything for fear of what would happen. I couldn't believe my loss of adventure, and that I was beginning to blame friends and family for my inability to not achieve.

And here was this girl who was faced with cancer, and making it all happen, not telling anyone that cancer was the reasoning to get it. She just did what she wanted and made a life as if she were normal.

This is what I wanted to become. Someone who saw the world like that every day.

I first took the steps in running. My friend Mandikat had started, and wanted me to join in--I focused more on this, and used that focus to plan my new ways of life. My better outlook.

I re-evaluated my connections. With everything. I only live once, and I'm not willing to deal with people who aren't going to give me the time of day. Nor am I willing to put in energy, especially worrisome, when all I get from it is negative energy. It was bogging me down, and it wasn't getting me anywhere but a sad state.

And I was going to stop sugar coating the important. I used to be of a naive nature, and it would sometimes get me into trouble because I wouldn't know me saying something honest would hurt someone or something. So, I stopped being open and kept the honesty to a minimum. Now, I would be honest and open and assertive with just being more aware instead of hiding that part of my personality behind. If I like or dislike something, I'd say it and just move on.

I was going to allow myself to fall in love. Not keep that in and not do anything about it.

These are all things I still work on, but since making that decision to live my life more as if I weren't necessarily going to be able to enjoy it every day (not in some sadistic/depressing way, more in an optimistic you've just got to enjoy life because that's what life is about way), I have been back to my normal smiling self.

And things are amazing.

People are amazing.

I mean, I sit back and think on what the every day person does. What technology does for us. What anything is capable of. How the small things can really change days. How just laughing over the stupidest things can really make a day at work, make you forget the pressure and anxiety.

Today, I spent a half hour laughing over an inside joke about York peppermint patties. And, when I look back at the conversation, I still chuckle and smile.

Those moments that people pass by, that are tossed aside as a mini part of our lives and shouldn't be looked at for more than mere seconds--those are the moments that truly make up a life. Every day passes by so quickly in our short existence, so shouldn't we make those parts of our history just as enjoyable as the major events in our life?

Shouldn't we volunteer? Take a mini-vacation to Wisconsin Dells? Make asses of ourselves by taping on odd facial expressions? Write wishes on paper lanterns that soar up in the sky and set loose in hopes they'll come true? Watch enormous amounts of Korean television on your days you just want to stay in and eat popcorn? Paint a wall green as an accent because you felt it was right? Buy a random gift for a friend when it isn't a special day for anything? Sing as loud as you can as often as you can, even if you can't remember any words? Tweet a celebrity you enjoy that you like them because the worst that will happen is they won't tweet back? Spend an extra cent on yourself because, turns out, you are worth it?

Wear a purple, paper crown that comes out of a Christmas cracker because it's silly and allows you to share a moment with friends as you giggle over jokes that can contend with those on a Laffy Taffy?

I like to think I'm a fast learner, but it took me a good few years to realize that I wasn't getting anywhere but unhappy. And if my new self means I don't keep in contact with the few people who make me miserable, and always have fantastic times with the many who make me happy (and vice versa), then I guess that means I make a decision to continue to be happy, shrugging off what I can't control with laughter, and enveloping with my heart all the wonder this world has to offer.

Even if that means the crown is green.

Because, You Know, I Haven't Updated in Forever. So, Here's a Novel For You.

Something I've slowly learned about myself over the years is how I've gone from being an open idealistic lover to a more closet romantic woman.

Most people find the small changes in themselves. “I used to like the color pink—now I can't stand the thought of it.” or “The taste of shrimp disgusted me, when I was a kid. I eat them at least once a week!” and, the ever popular, “I never believed in ghosts, until one haunted my bathroom after I moved into that creepy cabin.”

I'm kidding. No one ever stops liking the color pink.

I'm happy to report I'm not quite the cynic I once became after my college experiences. I was quite the innocent, growing up with parents who taught my brother and I well. Not that he and I weren't little shits (and that we still aren't), but we took our parents' word as truth.

Don't do drugs, they can screw up your life. Good friends will have you smiling at the end of the day. A clean room instigates a clean person (we both didn't follow this last rule until closer to the more 'now' time; it's mostly true).

But one of the most we held true to our hearts was the importance to be with the ones we love, and never settle for less.

I can freely say that this was what changed with me most, was how I went about their advice.

At first, I lived in a Disney-esque state. I lived in a small town, and dealt with small matters. But I dreamt big, and, in the face of what I thought was considered animosity, I stood for justice. We didn't have much to go against in our tiny town, at least, not in my eyes. And I had the hardest time understanding what seemed to be the simplest of matters, such as why someone would take the time to be a bully.

I remember a distinct moment in which we were all standing in line for lunch, and a small group of the said “popular” crowd started picking on one of the boys for wearing a Spice Girls shirt. During lunch time, there were only two lines, and our lunch periods collided for 5^th graders all to 9^th graders; we were in 8^th grade. This meant that there were well over 100 spectators, watching either in silence or snickers, while three kids who were meant to be looked up to mercilessly insulted their classmate for wearing a shirt with a girl-band on it. I was with two of my friends, who ignored the scene and talked with each other. I muttered darkly as the boy tried to ignore them, failing miserably, his cheeks getting redder and hotter as the bunch continued with their banter. He opened his mouth a couple of times to say something, but then stuck his hands in his pockets and faced forward instead. The anger in my heart couldn't take it any longer.

“What, is that bugging you?” I asked, my voice barely louder than their rambles. They glanced over at me, then shrugged it off and went back to it. “So, what, is it because of his shirt?”

“It has five girls on it,” one of the boys, Jeff, said.

“So? I like the Spice Girls.”

“You're a girl. If he likes them, it's gay,” he sneered. This was during the time when we didn't really know what gay meant, but the term was thrown about like we did. All we truly knew was that it was considered derogatory, and it was looked down upon.

“So, him wearing that. It's affecting you in some way? To a point that you need to tease him, make fun of him?” I jerked my thumb at their victim. My voice had gotten louder, and some people had stopped talking to see what was happening. “As far as I can tell, you're only making yourselves look dumb.”

“Like anyone will listen to you.” It was true, I was considered an outcast at this point.

“At least I'm not the one everyone wants to shut up. And that's what you should do.”

The boys tried to laugh it off, but the crowd had turned slightly against them with my words. My friends growled at how they were jerks, but I was still angry. I was angry at how the three popular kids had such power that they could tear down a boy, and cause a crowd to ignore their incessant idiocies. I was angry that no one else in the crowd had been willing to say something. And I was angry knowing that my words hadn't changed a thing in their demeanor.

When I got to the counter to hand over my lunch ticket, the adult manning the counter said, “I saw what you said and did there. Good job.”

“Thanks,” I muttered, but, in that moment, I was angry at her, too. She was an adult, and she didn't do anything to stop it either. I had been the only one who took the cards that were dealt, whereas everyone else passed.

These are the things I learned at school in my small town. As I explained the situations that didn't make sense to me while growing up to my parents, they'd press their lips together. These are the things that don't change, unfortunately, they'd tell me, and maybe a bit to themselves.

I was lucky, and relieved, to leave after my sophomore year of high school to my arts school. Most kids would be devastated to move during this time, to have to leave their friends and life. I, instead, was content with the knowledge of not dealing with the people in that school again. And that's where I learned more about the grey areas of life.

My most favorite people in the world (still to this day) did drugs. The teachers and adults treated us as equals, rather than children to scold and send on their merry way so they wouldn't have to continue to be dealt with. And I found that not all things depicted in movies weren't exaggerating about our world.

And it was where I had my first dashes at the idea of love.

You see, at my other school, the thought of being at all romantic with any of those, for the lack of the better word, jerks, made me want to hurt someone. But my new school? It was filled to the brim with people who were different than anyone I've ever met. Artists, in every single person, and they weren't afraid to show it. The school encouraged everyone to be themselves. And it was amazing.

I won't divulge into any details, as I'm sure my stories aren't as exciting as the next, but I had my few dashes with boys that got me realizing that love wasn't as easy as I'd anticipated. I'm unsure whether it was because of my small town, but I didn't have too many crazy families to deal with. I didn't know too many divorced parents, and the ones who happened to be were very civil. And I didn't know any parents who fought, either. Not any fights that weren't unhealthy, anyway.

I have a theory about these things. People who I know who have had horrible things happen to them, they have a choice in life—to either make it worse, or better. I have been innumerably lucky to know the people who have chosen to make their lives better. The ones who were too poor to have enough food to go around, the ones who came from houses with parents who didn't care if they were home or not, the ones who were abused emotionally...physically. Tragic back stories that these unbroken people decided to change to brilliant futures.

But I got lost in these stories. The chipper girl who was ready for adventure and life, she faltered at how possible it was for her to take on the world when it turned out to be just as big as she'd hoped.

The chances I had at love, I wasn't ready for. I knew because I learned from other people's mistakes. I watched while people got insipidly drunk, would make out with a random person, then later lament to me about the woes of how it was all going wrong. I was told the stories by my guy friends who would purposefully lead a girl on, use them, then toss them aside, laughing the whole time. Some girls weren't much better. For college, it was considered a time to experiment without any ramifications—no one thought the consequences could touch them, the immortality of a young adult.

Perhaps I took too much of a protective stance for myself. All I knew was that I didn't want to be placed in that same category, looking pathetic and weak all because I wanted to feel as if I'd had some connection with someone. Because that's what I saw in those girls after they finally sobered up, realized what they did last night, and tried desperately to justify their actions and make it all okay.

Their actions didn't mean anything to me, but I knew what I wanted. I didn't want the one night stand people would giggle over having. I didn't want to have the bragging rights people smugly spoke of having due to the amount of people they hooked up with the night previous. I didn't want to deal with the drama my friends consistently had on whether a kiss was just a kiss—or if it meant something more.

Because, somehow, deep inside, I knew that it shouldn't be that difficult.

As the years went on, I became more cynical of how love was, and less impressed with my generation's attempt at finding it. I became who I wasn't. I mean, I became not who I intended to be. I was hidden behind a mask because it seemed too difficult for me to grab the world and see how I could change it for the better anymore. I couldn't seem to fit in.

This past year, I had a more official coming back to roots. I was lost in three separate phases, growing up, but it took me until now to finally pin down what it means to be myself, and what it means for me to love. Always a work in progress, being me (I am so far from perfect, if it were a scarf, it'd be labeled infinity long...if that makes any sense at all), but I feel at home where I used to feel chaos earlier. I can love as I wish.

I'm not as open as I once was about it. Before leaving my lovely (/sarcasm) school, I used to gush about the type of love that transcended time. About connection, and how there is one person for everyone.

But now I'm wiser. I still believe love transcends time, for friendship and otherwise. And I believe that everything is connected, that people connect and should listen to their soul more on where they should be, who they should be with, in life. But I also believe, now, that there are certain people for certain times in your life. The opportunities we are given, especially in love, are to guide us in life, to teach us how to become even better than we are now. I've had connections with people who have been my friend for years now, and I've made quite a few more connections this past summer that are only going on a couple of months. There has even been a connection with someone that only lasted a week, and I would never give those moments back, as I was able to place a piece of my puzzle together on how I can better love someone. Love is easy, really. When in doubt, love. You don't need a definition, you don't need to perfect the rubik's cube that is love before attempting it, you just...do it.

So, maybe I'm not as open about it. I still find myself shying away from situations, or balking from sharing. Particular moments from this past year has gotten me more comfortable with myself, that balance between my roots and how I want my future. There were no mistakes in my eyes, just life. The romantic core I have has survived, and I intend to feed it.

But not before I feed my other love, adventure. Because that was another thing I once gave up.

Never again.

On Putting The Lonesome On The Shelf

Dear Boy-I-Have-Yet-To-Meet,

Paper For Class

“Shouldn’t I have all of this and passionate kisses.”
-Mary Chapin Carpenter

I deserve the world.

A lot of people say this. In fact, I’m sure they pray for it every night, though they may not say it in those exact words. They will say them as, “Please let me win the lottery,” or “Make that dick who just passed me speed his way into a cop.” However, they do not deserve the world.

I do.

And, in a nicely fashioned numerical order, I’ll tell you why.

1. I work hard.

This isn’t to say that other’s don’t. In fact, I know plenty of people who work just as hard as me, if not harder. However, I am a college student, with student loans that I will probably not be able to afford to pay off later due to the fact that I have chosen a career that, unless someone finds it amusing enough to print, and others find it amusing still and buy it, I am completely fucked. Yet, despite this hardship, I keep right at it. I continue down the path of writing and making film because, in my heart, I am doing what I truly what I want to do.

And that is what separates me from the other hard workers. How many people can say that they are not only working hard, but they are working hard on their dream? Most are working hard, but hating their job every moment, as their dreams lie in being a fire fighter, or a painter, perhaps even a person who does voiceovers for silly commercials. I, against many who tell me I should be doing otherwise, am doing what I love.

Just in the middle of Spring Semester, I applied to have my tuition paid for by the Minnesota Rural CEP, a workforce center. Two weeks later, in which I had called and fervently tried to get an interview, I received a letter that said I was perfect in every eligible way to have this grant--but, they said, “we are not looking for someone in your field right now.” Imagine feeling as if you’ve spent four years doing something, paying for something, that you were so proud of, only to have someone say that it was a waste of time (at least, in so many words). I spent the better of a good two weeks wondering what I was doing with my life, if I was making right decisions on where I was going to be. However, every single time I made a list of other possibilities, or sat down to contemplate, all I could think of was how unhappy I would be, and that, though I may not be making extreme money, or that no one “needs” my special talents, they wouldn’t have to answer to me at the end of the day. They wouldn’t have to go to bed at night sad, or wake up and realize they weren’t doing what they were truly meant to be doing with their hearts.

Plus, there is also the fact that I hold three jobs. I work as a Resident Assistant, which accumulates up to being not only having your own drama and emotions, but everyone else’s as well. I also work at Gamestop, a retail job that, though may have better scenery than other places, in the end is just selling things to people, and trying to keep them happy. The last is working at as a secretary on campus, where people call wanting all sorts of information, and if you don’t know it, then one is ridiculed via phone, as it is much easier to tell someone what terrible people they are when you don’t have to see them face-to-face. But I persevere, doing my best to remain calm, and do what needs to be done. I even manage to have some free time, taken with even more appreciation than another.

2. I have a great balance between being compassionate and having my needs taken care of as well.

You may be thinking, “That’s great that you have a healthy balance for that and all, but the people who are always compassionate no matter what are the one’s who deserve the world!” And I ask you to take care to read my reasoning before jumping to conclusions.

Think about it. Someone who is always putting someone else first is the greatest kindness of all, but how long can they go on doing such before there is a breaking point? Would someone who had the entire world do well if they were out of business just as often as they were in because they were breaking down? Plus, other’s would just take advantage of the poor soul, and then where would we be? In a world where everyone but that person deserving it having it.

No, I deserve to have the world because I can handle what is given to me. I’m not saying that having three jobs, plus always having great work ethics, doesn’t put a strain on things. This is why I take vacations, volunteer, write, and make film. Work hard, play hard. Plus, always doing what one loves is never work, so the stresses that are involved with my job are the good kinds of stress, the ones that make you work harder, and make you feel better at the end of the day when achieving success. Even a failure seems somewhat fantastic, as it means that one learns from the mistake.

3. I’m not too bad to look at, with smarts and a sense of humor to boot.

So, I’m not a model. However, I do have a great smile, glasses with personality, and really long hair that’s healthy. In fact, I’m overall a pretty healthy person. I eat what’s proper, and some that’s not (can’t help the brownie loving, or the fact that I love ice cream). I’m human, and I understand that I am.

Besides the looks, I am a pretty smart girl, definitely above average if not closer to the top. I’ve got on the Dean’s list the past few semesters, in fact. And the fact that I’m smart doesn’t get in the way with social skills, but instead embellishes my witty charm. Sometimes, beauty doesn’t give the boon of a good brain, and whether this is because the person doesn’t have the IQ, or because being beautiful never demanded them of using their brain in anything besides smiling and looking pretty, this hasn’t affected the way I live or work in the least. If it helps, I didn’t even consider myself a beauty until much later in my life, as I was a “late bloomer.” According to Hollywood, this means I am perfect in deserving the world, and the boy. And the only thing Hollywood lies about is the fact that when you shoot something, that doesn’t deem it worthy of blowing up.

In addition, having a sense of humor means that I love to laugh. “Laughter is the best medicine.” Though this may not be so true for curing, it’s definitely the best for having a healthy mind and heart. I even laugh at myself, which is the most important laughter of all. After all, it is said to never “take yourself seriously. No one else does.” And, yet again, I find myself with a niche for seriousness and humor. With as much stress, though positive, this is a much needed aspect in someone who deserves the world.

Now, I understand that everyone has their own definition of what “the world” entails. That some will still, regardless of my reasoning, declare me unworthy of the world. But this does not take away from my deserving it. It also doesn’t take away from me trying to have it. After all, with such deductions as I have said above, one would expect nothing less.

And that's why I deserve the world.

What I'd Rather Do

Despite the happenstances I've been in the recent, I am fairly happy. I'll blame it on the great atmosphere I've been blessed with.

It's a tough thing, being positive. I remember a specific time in my life when I didn't think anything could be harder. I didn't get it. I'd forgotten my entire past of being able to manage, and the future seemed unbearable. The people who were positive either had better luck than me, or were fake.

It's amazing what a mindset can do to alter one's perceptions.

A few days ago, I found out I wasn't eligible for a free tuition/room/board program. Not because I had too much money, not because I wasn't getting good grades, not because I was anything. Except that the profession I decided to go into wasn't "needed." Other people who aren't financially in debt, or already hurting in money as it is, are getting this program, but because I am going into a writing industry, and working with film, I am not needed within our workforce.

My last four years at college rushed to me. My love of what I'm going for suddenly seemed like a hobby. My worst fears about what I wanted to do with my life were right in front of my face.

What if I don't get the job I need and I end up a waitress/video game seller for life? What if I do get a job with what I love, but I can't ever make ends meet, and I'm forever working and never having a life? What the fuck am I going to do after college if even a workforce won't take the time to deal with me?

I allowed myself about ten minutes to mope. I called my father and chatted with him for awhile, and, as usual, he helped me open my eyes at how blessed I was--at least this wasn't a dire situation, where I was dependent on it in order to finish college. At least I will be happy with what I've accomplished.

I remember in Jr. High, we were talking in class and had an extra ten minutes. We were told to take out a piece of paper and answer a few questions. One was "Where will you be in ten years?" I put, "Happy." I wasn't stupid. I get the question. It's supposed to be a time when you write out your dreams of where you hope to be. But I figure that I can cheat the system. If I put happy, then it doesn't matter what I'm doing, because I'll be glad at where I am.

Back in those days, I thought of how easy it was to be happy. I had a great family, home, friends... And after adding more of what life has to offer to the equation, it was easy to forget all of those things and get lost. I'm not going to lie, I was lost for a while.

New Zealand helped me find myself again.

My parents and brother helped me (probably without their knowledge), and I have never felt as close to them all as I do now, and it keeps getting better.

New friends, new experiences, new thoughts and ideas...

I could have allowed so many things ruin my chances. I've always bounced back. A workforce that says I'm not "needed" isn't going to change anything. All that means is that everyone else is going to have to watch out, because I'm great at what I do.

And after college, I'm going to prove that.

Random Fact: A snail can crawl across a razor blade without getting injured. This is possible because they excrete a slime that protects them.

Lay Back, Relax

On a Tuesday night, I will never starve.

By starve, I mean with meals. By starve, I mean with friendship. By starve, I mean with laughter. By starve, I mean with contentment.

I love being spontaneous.

But Tuesday is my night. It's our night. A night with specifics as to meal, relaxation, and nothing more. The only expectations are to be there by 6:30p.m.

I've never had something become dependable so quickly.

And the food is always good.

Random Fact: Aya is having a baby! How exciting!!!

Still Busy

The past couple of days has found me... rather happy. Despite the crap that happens, when I stare off into space, I'll come back to Earth and realize there's a smile smacked on my face. For no reason to explain except that I am in the true, honest-to-God Happiness that hasn't been here for ages.

It's almost as if I'm in love.

I just can't wait to see this wonderful change that is going to be happening. I am apart of our change, and it's the best feeling in the world.

I am surprised about the ban on Gay Marriage in California, Arizona and Florida, however. I never thought it would actually go through. And if we're banning that, does this mean we have to make sure gay people can still vote? All of it is ridiculous in my eyes--two people in love deserve just as much as the next. During a time when we should all be coming together, we're struggling to make sure we aren't--at least, that's how it feels at times.

The rain we've been having these days has just been a thought to me as if we're cleansing. Since the night of the election, it's been thunderstorms, then cool rain pouring upon our heads, but the weather initially warm. I feel so calm, despite the wariness surrounding me. I hadn't realized how much the election was affecting me.

And now that it's over, I feel as if there's been a great lift on my shoulders, from all around. There's no class next Tuesday, no homework for over the weekend really, Thanksgiving is coming up... And though I'm On Duty for Friday and Saturday, I'm just looking at it as time to catch up on some hardcore gaming. I rented Prince of Persia: Sands of Time from Gamestop, but I didn't finish it--but I want to get Warrior Within, next.

I'm even caught up on sleep. For the Gods' sake, I am actually sleeping well.

I have time to catch up on things I couldn't. I have some True Blood to watch (which I will get Amber on, since she's reading my Vampire series), an episode of The Office to watch (since there was an event I had to go to, and missed half of it)... and the stupid nerdy/love for vampire me is getting sadly excited for Twilight. I can't help it. What is it about things that can't possibly exist that rise my curiosity? Blah.

In other news, it has been set that I will graduate next Fall. After setting the classes and figuring out what's what, I'll finally be done. It's the most exhilarating feeling... I'm scared out of my wits, yet so relieved to finally be done... And there's so much to think about. Where to live next year, what to do with my life, whether to go for my MFA, internships... I still have my senior project to finish, too, which I'm starting next semester. Plus, my minor in Mass Comm (or will I make it a major if I'm getting my MFA somewhere else?).

There is so much to consider, thinking all at once can overwhelm--but I know that the next few weeks will have me searching for new places to go whilst remembering our new president and what else is being held for me in the future.

It's interesting. I spent so much of my life trying to prove to myself that I can do this, that I can be on my own without any guidance... yet, I'm afraid to let go of the hands that are pushing me to do so as well. So much opportunity, and with all the travel I want to do, now that we're starting new in America, I don't want to leave--I want to be apart of what happens. History, the thing I once hated, now is something that almost consumes me, as I'm apart of it.

There's a lot to think about--and all of it is actually in the positive. Who can say they have too many good choices to choose from?

Random Fact: On average, 12 newborns will be given to the wrong parents every day. I hope not to take home.

Finally Good

After the election. After the stogie. After the party. After the hugs and screams.

After that feeling inside of me, and the realization that I was proud, and things were going to change.

I went back to my room, sat and wondered what was next.

Then, I placed a CD in my player, hit play, and lay back to lavish in the idea that, yes, things were going to finally be okay.

Random Fact: President Barack Obama is the elected 44th president.

Write

Last night, on a whim of wondering, I took a few of my old notebooks to bed from last year, two of random, one for a writing class.

This is the first time that I have looked back at myself as a writer and was impressed. Some of you out there have told me over and over about how good of a writer I am, but I disagree--there are many out there who do this same thing, and I never really see how I have something better.

But I was impressed. I see how I've changed, but not necessarily for the better or worse. I look at the things from two years ago and realize that I used to write everything down. I'd get an idea for an opening line, a scene that crossed my mind for no reason, a character that I had to write a synopsis for, then later would go back and really describe my thoughts.

And now I can barely find time to write a blog, much less write those passing thoughts. Except that I don't have any less time than I once did. So, what happened?

The passion isn't lost. That's for sure. As soon as I read a book or have that extra time, I start thinking as if I'm writing. I start describing things in my head, finding new ways to tell the way a curtain is swaying, or the way I clutter my desk.

I just stopped writing it down, which is a terrible thing for me as a writer to do. I somehow decided that the importance to get those thoughts out for someone else to read wasn't.

And I started reading old material left on my computer, too.

It all really started getting me excited for the next semester--more writing classes. And, hopefully, that means more posting on my part.

Random Facts: The name hippopotamus comes from the Greek words "hippos," meaning horse, and "potamus," meaning river.

Bears. Beets. Battlestar Galactica.

It always happens to me.

The day that I have to get up early to get to work on time is the day I have a fantastic dream about John Krasinski.

I'm not quite sure where it all came from, though I have an idea. I've been recently reading all these crazed shojo-romancy-type manga through the interweb, so my brain must have been on a wavelength of fantastic cuddly love.

That immediately ended with my alarm singing out the theme of the field in Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask.

However, I don't know why John Krasinski made the appearance out of all my celeb choices. Not that I'm complaining; he's adoreable, and, if anything like his character Jim Halpert, I'd gladly date. I'm even more interested in him than Dane Cook at the moment (but that's because his comedy was dropped for me when it was all about sex, rather than actual humor... we know what happens in the bedroom. Stop name dropping old school hits and get on with some actual jokes.) But I guess that's just how the subconcious works.

After taking ten minutes to convince myself that it wasn't worth trying to fall asleep for another half hour to see where my relationship was going to go with Mr. Krasinski (knowing my other dreams, I'm sure he'd break up with me due to my being too young or that we're just too far away from each other to make it work or something to that depressing effect), I made my way to the bathroom and re-dyed my bangs. I had wanted to henna them again last night, but I forgot/got too lazy to remember. So, the rest of the day today, I smell like henna. Or, in other words, like a hippy. Not that I mind. I love that I smell like it for a good week right after my showers. It's become a calming smell.

On the past notes I haven't updated with due to time (i.e. catching up on sleep), Moondance Jam was a lot of fun! Tanya and I danced a lot, and she fell in love with Black Valentine (mainly the bassist). I fell in love with the music I heard, except for Led Zepagain. Sorry, but I can't respect someone "trying to keep the music alive" when they're pretending to actually be the band, rather than actually being the band. Ah, the disappointment.

And my mother's bash was a great success. It was awesome (and a little tiring) to see everyone and chat up. People I hadn't seen for years showed up, and some that I see ever-so-often. My elementary music teacher, Mrs. Johnson, was there, and it was really odd to see her. She stayed the same, but I obviously looked different. When I asked her how she was doing, she said, "I'm good. What's your name?" And when I said, "Mallory," she said, "What's your last name?" I had to explain that I was my mom's daughter (in which they usually guess because we look alike, but not so much since I've gotten the glasses). She looked not only astonished at who I was, but very pleased, especially at what I was doing with my life. I always feel embarrassed when I see an old teacher; they always say, "You'll always do good at whatever you do, you always have." It's a pleased embarrassment, but I'm happy to know that I wasn't a little shit at all times (HA, mom ^_~).

I was a little disappointed at not being able to hang out with my brother more, since he had other work to do (and gas prices are a little much for him to keep trekking up and around the map). My first summer away, and it just feels weird to not be around my family consistently. Though they claim it to be just "same old, same old," there's a sense of homecoming in that. Plus, I've missed my puppies! Ellie has gotten so adorable (I love when she howls!), and Mocha is still my pup of comfort (though it seems as if Ellie takes up my time with wanting to always play).

In news of my return to my university, it's been hectic. Yesterday, I get to my shift in one of the dorms to find out they've re-cored the front door. I was okay to get in with my card, but anyone with a hard key couldn't get into the building, which meant a lot of getting up and going to the door on my part for a while (we can't hold the doors open), and then a lot of apologizing and dealing with unhappy residents. Apparently, the On Duty cell phone wasn't being answered by the patrons who've been holding onto it, and people have been standing outside the doors for more than a half hour, waiting to get into the building. I ended up sending out a mass email for people to be more aware, which, this morning, I was massively thanked by one of the staff, who said she was seeing voice mails every time she'd get the cell phone, and they were getting angry people who were chewing out the wrong people. I had been apprehensive about sending it, as I didn't want people to think about me slacking off since I'd taken the weekend off. Not to brag, but I've seem to have proven my worthy with this working industry, and they really take my opinion into account on matters, which really touches me. I'm one of the few members on staff that the Hall Directors allow me to do more "classified" things that involve privacy, and am one of the first called to do something because they know I do my part.

I just finally feel glad that I'm being noted for my work. Any corporation I've worked with doesn't take the time, and if they do, it's very business-like, as if it's the obvious thing to go above and beyond their minimum work with minimum wage (as if. I will go above and beyond when I know that your company will go above and beyond--which Res Life does). Res Life certainly has some issues with communication, and some in the construction common sense zone, but they certainly don't have any issues will telling their staff how great they are at the job they do. Plus, it's not just a business--it's all friendship.

It'll be a tough day when I finally decide to go out on my own, if only because I would rather eat my own shoe than work my way up a corporate ladder only to be kicked down for "financial reasons." Fuck that shit.

Random Fact: Lightning strikes men about seven times more often than it does women. Suckers.

Mon-ey, Mon-ey

I saw an extremely expensive car today, whilst biking back from Gamestop. And I thought, "Why do they make these things so expensive?"

I meant in the sense that what is the real point of having things expensive besides the want of money? What do I get out of the deal besides a nice shiny new car? It would be nice to have that. A bright red convertible. But what makes us so willing to pay so much for it? The feeling of earning enough money to get it? The hard work involved to get to it?

And I thought of how easy animals get it. They don't pay for a thing and seem completely happy. Is that a positive to being unable to have the capacity to understand these things? Not having to pay for anything and living life basically stress free? They live there lives, doing what they're made to do as nature intended and die. You may think, "Yeah, but it's boring..." But then, aren't we always wondering what our purpose of life is? What we're meant to do? And here are those animals, doing what they're meant to do. They may not be aware of it, but I don't see a sparrow digging around the ground like a mole. Or a fish fixing vacuuming a carpet.

Does this mean we get rewarded if we realize what we're meant to do and continue doing it to the best we can?

I just can't see why things need to be as expensive as they are. Four hundred dollars for a gaming device. Thousands for laptops. Everything is just money, money, money. You'd figure everyone would just get sick of it. It's paper for God's sake. Especially American money--burnable and easily ripped. With such delicate things, you'd figure we'd respect it more and really see the value. And it's so complicated. Values all over the world going up and down. The value of a piece of paper that already has an initial value.

I don't know all of the things of money, so I probably shouldn't have such a strong opinion... But simple is usually best. And here's the simplicity: money only exists because we put such importance on it, and we have problems with giving things to each other/sharing. We're so worried about who gets what and why and when... Even when we're on top of everything, our big noses pop in to see how everyone else is doing, and whether they deserve what they get. Does there need to be reason?

Besides the point, it's 4th of July. The fireworks I saw were epic--though very short, Nathan, my hall director, and I were right under them, looking up in such a way that I felt I was at the IMAX of fireworks. I've never been so close, or felt that I was going to be rained upon with their aftermath. It was a lot of fun.

Afterward, Matt, an old friend, came and played Rock Band with us, all of us wanting to avoid the singing, as we only had one guitar, a drum set and mic to grab for. We all took turns. Though we didn't get to talk much, it was great to see him again. I've always thought that Matt had a fantabulous vocabulary, and I could listen to him tell stories all day. He's "grown" since I've last seen him, which is funny to say, but it's been a year, and he is some years younger than me. We set a lunch date to see each other for sure, just in case we couldn't hang out at other times.

Groups are fun, but it also means that there's very little actual talk time. I'm excited for the prospect to chat.

In lesser news, I am frustrated with my Nintendo Wi-Fi USB Connector, which consistently goes in and out of connection. I don't know if it's my computer or what, but I'm ready to smother something, and soon! I have Dr. Mario to play!

Random Fact: About 18% of Animal owners share their bed with their pet

Tired Is An Understatement

It's not that I haven't had the time to write--it's more to the effect that I've been literally too bored to. It's a hard time to convince myself that something is worth writing, especially that when you actually speak it, no one is really listening. Or perhaps, in this case, reading.

I got to thinking about listening quite some time ago. Since the years of elementary, I've known I hear only what I want to hear, but don't we all? If we think that someone is angry at us, we not only get all defensive whenever anything is said, but we start to analyze the every move, trying to prove that our subconcious is right, until, finally, it becomes truth--we create what we initially thought.

Of course, I always hope that this changes for the better, too. Focus the energy on winning the lottery, or finding the love of your life... But then it makes us impatient, too.

Instead of focusing on any of these things, as I have too much time on my hands, I've been keeping up with renting games from Gamestop (personal plus of working there), reading or working on my room. It seems lame, but I keep organizing, cleaning and finding other ways for me to have it. Simplify can't happen so much, but making everything have a place does keep it nice. And it gives me something to do, as it's been raining every day. The sun shines for a moment, and then downpour. Between not wanting to spend money and gas, I've really got nothing much else to do.

Spooner and Emily came to visit a few days ago. I was surprised to get a call from Emily after I got off work. I don't know why, but I have such an odd idea of how things work with relationships. It sounds depressing, but I do get surprised when people invite me to do things. I feel as if I take things in stride--I do what I do, other's do the same. I'm so used to people making such a big deal out of keeping things secret, like people purposefully not inviting others to events, the childish junior high schemes that seem to have followed me to college... When I hopped on board the STLF, I thought it'd be an event and we'd go back to school, nothing changing. But it kept up.

It's like when we moved to our now house, and the neighbors kept coming over to introduce themselves, bringing brownies and breads and kind words. I was confused, and a little wary--I've never lived in a neighborhood that cares so much about each other. I think I actually know the people's names on our street.

I even got a letter from STLF yesterday, a hand written card that said thank you for helping out to give dreams to others. Though I've always considered to think nothing of it, as it's really a small nothing compared to what else I could do, I just keep getting reminded of how easy it is to change things for the better. Even today, my parents asked me about why there was a letter to my "future self." I'd forgotten about the letter I wrote myself on the trip (everyone did). I vaguely remember what I wrote, but I know that it was all words of encouragement, of trying to not let myself forget how easy it is to make things for the better.

How easy it is to forget, though. That we can't make a difference, that what we do can't be used for the future good. How can we get so discouraged by one little comment when the rest of them are all telling us how wonderful we are? The state of our minds say that the percentages are all way off--the small 1% of bad things people say out weighs the other 99% which consists of the warm, fuzzy feelings we enjoy so much. We say it's so rare, but are we ever really listening? If I had a tally, the love would greatly overcome what my mind thinks is really going on.

It really goes to show what one gesture can make through a ripple effect. And wouldn't it be great to make that ripple effect start with a smile instead of a gruff, non-committal noise? I will be the first to admit that it does take work to be consistently grateful--especially when those around you are all too quick to make sure you keep your feet on the ground, sometimes gluing your shoes to the spot to make it even harder to move forward. One's happiness isn't always another's. And, to be honest, I'd rather just live my life and have someone else worry about those things--life is too short to waste time on details when we can all go off and have a good time. And true friendship doesn't let minuscule things get in the way.

Meh, enough of the "deep thoughts." I finally gave my brother his gifts, which I am so happy to say he liked. The first was a shirt I made.

Front: "Fact: Bears eat beets."
Back: "Bears. Beets. Battlestar Galactica."

It took me all of five seconds to decide to make it, a good few days to make sure it looked right. Not only will he be an original, but it's from The Office.

My second gift was Scene It for the Xbox 360. I was really glad he hadn't bought it already, and also glad that he was still interested in it. While we're both wondering if the makers will just have updates to download in bundles, or if they'll just try to make as much money as possible by having more games to buy instead. To be honest, they'd make more on the add-on bundles, and the customers would be happier.

And it's Father's Day. Called my papa to tell him I love him, and found he'd already used some of the Wii points I'd given him. I've come to the realization that we have three Wiis in our family. It's a good realization. I wish I could be there for Father's Day, as I miss last years due to the fact that I was working graveyard and day shifts at two different jobs, but I was happy to see both my parentals last Wednesday.

Every time I visit, it gets harder and harder to leave. I miss how relaxing it is there. Unconditional love has that effect on you. Between the cutest puppies in the world and the best parents... I couldn't ask for much more.

I'm off to be "productive." Slash unproductive. Depends on what comes first.

Random Fact: American Roy Sullivan has been struck by lighting a record seven times. I wonder if he's won the lottery.

Test of Trials

The stress just keeps piling and making something of itself.

The end of the year is upon us. The part about being an RA is the ability to juggle what we hope we can handle. Usually, I end up doing something fantastic, like managing to pull off five balls at once--but I've found that those are usually flukes, and I've got to just pull myself together to keep the real tricks that I know well going.

I did my new bulletin board on the stresses of life and school, and the need to get a good balance. It basically made a list of how to make a schedule for yourself; how to study and then relax between study sessions.

I, myself, have too much on my plate. With the luck I've had, my tape got smashed with my footage, which my teacher understands and gave me another chance until Wednesday, but I have projects due, a paper I've put off way too long and even more so to keep up with my residents, who are also freaking out about school and life. But I have to remember the good things:

*I won $31 at our local co-op
*Ben Folds concert was epic
*My new glasses are working out perfect
*I still have money on my college ID
*I got a summer position and my Gamestop position
*Showers are still the best anythings ever
*I have great friends and family

There are so many more... And tonight is the night that I get everything back into it's own place. Where it's supposed to be.

Random Fact: 75% of the general population experiences at least "some stress" every two weeks (National Health Interview Survey). Half of those experience moderate or high levels of stress during the same two-week period. Stress contributes to heart disease, high blood pressure, strokes, and other illnesses in many individuals. Stress also affects the immune system, which protects us from many serious diseases.

Summer?

I'm pretty sure I got sun burnt yesterday.

It was gorgeous, so I parked myself outside to do some homework. Joining me were Seth, Russell, Lisa, Angi, Laura, Nikki and some random come and goes. For about an hour, I worked, then the rest of the time was spent talking, laughing and enjoying the warm weather.

We then had the Festival of Nations, in which there are many booths set up with food we can buy for a dollar, a stage with performances to see traditional attire and song and then places where you can buy things. I tried almost every booth (I only had a certain amount of tickets), bought some fancy chopsticks (I keep forgetting mine at home), got my name in Chinese characters, made a God's Eye (memories of selling those at garage sales) and also got some henna on my hand.

It was really cool to talk to the people manning the booths, especially the foreign exchange students, as they talked about how they came about to Minnesota.

After the day spanned out, Martha and I then went to the pub to hang out with Traci and her parents. The next few hours were spent laughing at each other's stories. It's been a while, laughing that hard for that long. And it's nice to know that my family aren't the only one's crazy ^_~

In a few hours, I'll be on my way to seeing the Ben Folds concert. I'm not sure how it'll all pan out. This'll be the first time Dan and I will "hang out" since he decided I wasn't worth his time, and then I decided he wasn't worth mine. Emily and Corey for fantabulous people, but I haven't really done much with them besides the random hanging out and STLF trip, which is different in itself.

It's exciting, though.

I got a summer position at Residential Life, and the Gamestop is a good call. No school, friends and two jobs? Plus, the people who also got positions or will be around... This summer is going to be exactly what I need.

I just wanted to update--I always kind of feel bad when I leave my blog for a certain amount of time, as if it has feelings of some sort. I am busy, but there's always time for a quick blog lovin'.

I'm off to clip the ends of the flowers I received from Mandikat's recital, the one's that are happy to be around and make happy smells in my dorm room.

Random Fact: The characters Bert and Ernie on Sesame Street were named after Bert the cop and Ernie the taxi driver in Frank Capra’s “It’s a Wonderful Life.”

Tone It Down

I had a dream last night about Rooster Teeth. I have no clue how this came about. I've never really seen a good picture of any of the crew, but I managed to take their comic form and create some idea in my head.

I think we went bowling.

Besides that point, the small road trip we had turned out to be a blast. We did so much! Corey was supposed to come with us, but he found that he couldn't skip one of his classes, so it was just Spooner, Amber and I. Turns out, Amber and I made a great team.

The Highlights:
*Went to Duluth to meet up with an STLF friend. We stayed for about an hour, watching Tim the Toolman Taylor and having root beer floats with Dad's Root Beer (I know, I pretty much freaked out knowing that she had the root beer of childhood memories!!!!!).
*Drove rest of way to Spooner
*Tiny notes around Spooner's house to remind us/welcome us to cute adorable home
*First Smirnoff drink
*Went to bed at 4:30amish
*Got up at 7:30am to shower
*Ate breakfast and left for Rice Lake
*Realized we left items at Spooner's house
*I stayed with Spoon during surgery whilst Amber drove to get said items
*Spooner hit on us multiple times, which totally made up for the blood and grossness
*Amber got, literally, a childhood friend's number from his father
*Saw Lynn, Spoon's mum, and met her husband at Culver's (St. Paul)
*Saw STLF headquarters and met Petey (Minneapolis)
*Drove up north and made a pit stop at my parents'
*Drove rest of way to university
*Dropped off Spooner after getting some eating supplies for him, as he couldn't have solid foods for some time
*Amber and I smoked a stogie while walking back to dorms



I look concerned because smoking a cigar means you're cool. Ever seen Independence Day? Will Smith is pretty Badass with that cigar.

Cigarettes? No.

Hookah? No.

Pipe? No, but still cool.

Cigar? Why not?

It's also blizzard week. Last weekend it was snow-crazed, now it's snow-crazed again. Normally, I'm all for this! I love snow like the dickens! However, I had plans to see Miss Mandikat for her senior recital. She had been on a voice hiatus, so it was hard enough that we weren't talking (I'm so sorry, parentals, for the text messages....). But we talked yesterday, and now I really want to see her more than usual!!! I'm praying and telling everyone else to pray, too. The thing is, during the day, it's all melty and no issue. At night, that could be the different story.

Whelp, I'm off to see what difference I can make in the day. Maybe get some lunch. We'll see.

Random Fact: More than 50% of the people in the world have never made or received a telephone call.

April Shower Treats

Just before I go to bed, I sometimes like to just stand in a warm shower. For those minutes, I contemplate nothing. I stare and just let the water beat against my skin. I relax. And when I'm done, I look at the poster that says, "You can save blah-blah-blah amount of water if you cut your shower short by only two minutes!"

And I always think, "Totally worth it."

Daydream Believer

Last night, I had the worst charlie horse in my right calf leg in the history of Mallory's Charlie Horses In Right Calf Legs. I'm still sore from it this morning!

It didn't surprise me, really. From 10-midnight, I was playing basketball with Martha, Josh, and Shiloh (with a taste of Jessica ever-so-often, but her left shoulder is hurt, so she couldn't play as much). It'd been a while, and it was a lot of fun. I was reminded of how me and my brother would play during the summer. We used to have a basketball net on our garage on our other house, but we can't really at our "new" one.

We played Lightning and Pig.

Actual conversation when I received 2nd place in Pig with Martha.

Me: Damn it!
Martha: Tha'll do pig. Tha'll do.

I laughed pretty hard.

I'm assuming that all of the quick moves in the calves was what brought on the whole muscle spasm of PAIN. And then not really stretching afterwards. Since I was one of the people who set up the event, I helped tear down at the end of the night, then ended up going to my room and conversing with mother about the pain in my heart.

Since hearing that Dan wasn't going to be an RA next year, I felt really hit. Everyone else seemed to have been told personally while I was left to find on my own. I was really hurt. I was angry at myself because I decided not to say something about my concerns as a friend for him. I've been hurt for two weeks that he's barely talked to me, much less even making any normal friend contact.

To be honest, neither of us are in the clear for making that "just friends" work.

I had a dream last night that Dan, some random people and I were in a house together. I was cleaning house, picking up old stuffed animals and clearing the floor to see the white, cushy carpet that I remember thinking, "This is comfort." I can't recall why, but Dan came over holding a CD player. I wasn't even looking at him, and he placed the headphones over my ears. I jumped and looked at him, wondering what was going on. "What am I supposed to do with this?" I asked, and he held up the player, pressed play, then handed me the player. I looked down at the player, the song starting, when he suddenly crushed me against him and kissed my temple, holding tight, then letting go and started to walk away. I told him to wait, but he looked back, smiled, then motioned that I should listen to the song. There were words, but I couldn't keep them in my head for the life of me. I think this is where I started to wake up, because I remember consciously trying to concentrate on the song, wondering if I knew it or not, but the words just played by my ear and were forgotten in the dream.

I think that was the first time that Dan has ever been in my dreams.

Random Fact: We dream on average of one or two hours every night. And we often even have 4-7 dreams in one night. Five minutes after the end of the dream, half the content is forgotten. After ten minutes, 90% is lost. Dreamers who are awakened right after REM sleep, are able to recall their dreams more vividly than those who slept through the night until morning.

New Hats

I know I've promised myself over and over to make my own hat because I know I can, but when I saw this, I couldn't let it go. I got it for fifteen bucks, which is cheap for New Zealand (cheap for in the states as well). It's really warm, cute as hell and really matches me, I think.



The river behind me is this. I pass over it when I visit Devon, another American who was in my Poetry class. We both play video games (her more the FFXI, me the consoles), so we've hung out quite a few different times. In order to get to her house, I have to climb very steep stairs. The view makes up for it.

I got the hat at a fair in a neighboring town. Devon invited me, and it was extremely fun! We saw different types of cows, sheep, sheep dogs, guinea pigs, puppies, horses, pigs, bulls.... There were rides and games, but I wasn't as interested, as lugging home a huge stuffed animal wasn't pleasing, but also because it seemed expensive to me. The Carnies screw over people. I would have tried to get a goldfish, but they didn't have any.

I only spent twenty bucks, which is nice. Fifteen for the hat, five to enter the festival. I didn't get hungry. I was this close to getting a tattoo, but I didn't have my picture of the kiwi-bird I wanted. But I'll be getting it, no worries.

Yesterday was eventful as well, and I was a little too tired to write.

Gina and I went to Mickey's to get some ice cream and the like and chat, which was very fun, as we talked about anything. It's nice to talk to someone who's secure with whom they are, as you're okay with talking about anything and not having to change your opinion for fear of looking dumb.

Last semester, she had a best friend from the States, a boy named Marcus. Now that he's gone, she misses him much more than she thought she did, and since I have the same sort of accent, she'll talk about him and about the things they've done (great stories that make me laugh, especially since I know the other people in the stories).

They've only been keeping in touch through e-mail, so I mentioned, "You know, I have a bunch of extra minutes on my card. I'll bet we could find his number through the internet, and you could talk to him."

Two hours later (we had to wait for a decent hour to call), we had him on his cell phone.

It was one of the coolest experiences of my life to watch it happen, as they laughed over events in the past. They talked for a good half hour or so and were able to switch addresses and phone numbers for special occasions.

I guess the beauty was just in how happy Gina was to hear his voice. After she got off the phone, she was just so happy. And I was able to help with that.

So, I guess this means that, no matter what, I'll be doing my project. I'll work out the details when I get home. And it's not really work, though it'll take up time. I'm excited to start.

Random Fact: You burn more calories sleeping then watching TV

This Is Halloween!

A day ahead, as usual ^_~



As you can see, carving was a huge success. I got six people to carve with me, and the pumpkins were only three bucks each (which they helped pay for).

I did the far right, wanting a Picasso image, but it didn't quite turn out as I'd hoped... I wanted to originally do Pac-Man, but Sara took the round pumpkin for herself, and the rest were very abnormally shaped and awkward sized. I didn't want to make a fuss, and I really didn't care so much--I've done this multiple times, and they've never done it.

Sara the the one next to mine, simple but good.

Michael's is next, which is upside down for a good reason. When he carved his mouth, it was very close to the ground, so I said it should be placed upside down. I think it turned out great.

The next is Sarah's, whom did a square and triangle eye.

J took forever to do his, but it was understandable as we got a head start on him and the pumpkins are very thick skinned. The face he chose to do reminded me of Jack Skellington.

The last one is a combination of Michael's talent with mine, the idea being we'd all add something to the pumpkin... But no one else did.



I thought the knotty part of the pumpkin looked like a scarred eye, and Michael wanted to try out the whole "carving half the pumpkin out" technique some people have done. When it came time for me to do a mouth, there was little room and anything could screw it up, so I did a slit. Later, we added a slit to the scar-eye and the knife poking out of it's head for character. We left the lid off to give it more air and to give it more light (the whole eye thing didn't quite work as we planned).

As far as I know, they're still all lit, as the RA's said we could keep them outside where we took the pictures. We got a lot of stares from people, and a lot of compliments. But I just think it was fun!

Afterwards, we went inside. we ate some candy, made popcorn, talked... Then we watched The Nightmare Before Christmas, which was a blast. I love the movie more than I can say, and it was good to laugh at my favorite parts. It was rather sad when they asked me why it was one of my favorite movies, but they still enjoyed it. Sara thought it was a little more scary than it ought to be. I could see where she got the idea.

I didn't stay in my costume as long as I'd have liked to, mainly because of the long day I had.

I got up rather early, intending to go get pumpkins, but ended up taking the long ways, sending out postcards, checking places for Halloween things and winding my way through to Pac 'N' Save for the pumpkins (I got six, and they were heavy... You can imagine the stares I got when getting on, off, and buying them). When I got back, I was helping Sara figure out what she wanted to be for Halloween, painting my crown for Princess Peach from Super Mario Sunshine (she had a sleeveless dress, what I had to work with). However, when looking for inspiration in the first place, I'll tell you the things I came across... Whole dedications to her, this being only one. It's one thing to have a Wikipedia, but these websites are even more amazing. They show things from pictures of every game she's in to cosplay footage of people at conventions. It was very hard for me to want to dress up, as the footage showed these hard workers who spent months/years on their costumes to make perfection. Daunting, in the least.

But I prevailed by accidentally locking myself out of my room while I had my koala ears on. Most of my day was spent wearing the makeup for my costume while wearing koala ears, as the RAs weren't in the hizzo for more than six hours and I had my radio show to get to.

I didn't mind, though. The costume could have been considered half-assed, I was tired and I was still daunted by the fact that people spend so much time on their costumes (well, more jealous that they're able to make such great costumes... they don't necessarily look good in them, but when they do, one can feel pretty poutful).

Random Fact: Prince Charles and Prince William never travel on the same airplane in case there is a crash.