Cold Feet

For the past two months, I've been in what I like to call 'financial ruin'. The less fortunate would say I was well off. The people who don't even know I exist in another country getting five cents an hour to make the shoes I walk in would say I'm rich. However, I have been in what I consider 'financial ruin' because I'm selfish.

The situation was that I couldn't afford the place I was at because I was too poor, but I also couldn't afford to move because that was too expensive for me to afford as well. On top of this, I was lucky to have food stocked up, and it was slowly weening. I needed a roommate, but no one wants to live in the suburbs with a single, white female who likes to sing while she cooks.

From some dues ex machina, I found a roommate and he found me. We were both tired of interviews with weirdos, we both just wanted a place to stay without worry of murder, and we ultimately wanted internet. The best thing about my new roommate, besides being on opposite schedules so we don't actually ever see each other, is that he works at a company that gets us free internet and cable. The fact that I've been over a month without internet to download my free monthly game from Xbox has been killing me.

Although I am now not paying over my paycheck for rent now that I have a roommate, I am still playing it safe on all angles. I'm ever conscious of what I purchase, unlike before (I want a video game? Just buy it because WHO CARES I HAVE MONEY?!). Despite being considered extremely frugal by everyone in college, as I am apparently the only person who was afraid to be excruciatingly poor when I'm on my own, I've had a very expensive summer. Nothing I regret, but definitely something I will be remembering for future endeavors.

I suppose there is a lesson to be learned. About savings and not paying attention to the bank means 'financial ruin'. I'm definitely still wary, but I can tell I'm a bit more lax as the weeks continue. I'm feeling safer, less like I will be out on the streets, huddling with my consoles in fear of having to give them up in order to survive with tears and snot running down my face because I am not a pretty person when I happen to be wallowing in misery.

Money has always been a subject of woe for me. It's something I work hard toward. My family was 'well off', but now they have their troubles we never foresaw. No one can foresee their dreams one day rising to a cost of giving that dream up.

These are the things that happen in life that can make you rethink your future, and what you think to be important in life.

For instance, while I may struggle not to buy a $60 video game I don't need, someone else is probably debating whether they can afford both bread and peanut butter--jelly is right out, as it's a luxury. Which doesn't matter anyway because jelly is gross. Bleh.

While I debate my feelings on whether or not I like a boy as more than a friend, and if I should actually do something about it because of the most dramatic reasons in all the land that would make a romantic comedy run for it's money, someone else is probably wishing they had my lucky drama because they are currently in human trafficking, wondering if they'll live to tell the tale of their forced drug habits.

Ah, the dilemma. People have it worse off than me, so who am I to complain?

How does one even get the right? Is there a passage into this sort of thing? Or are you born into it, just like race and status? What does a status even matter if you're unhappy? Can I please eat that piece of cheese with that blackcurrant jelly? Thank you.

I guess what I'm saying is, every time I think I've got it figured out, I'm shown how far off the grid I really am. You think you're beginning to like someone and they start dating someone else. You think you've got a nice nest egg for future plans of travel and they're taken away, stripped. Just when you think your face looks it's best, there is a zit, right on your cheek, looking smug as if it's slapped itself there just to see your frown.

I don't even know. I thought I was sitting well with my job, too, but I started getting bored. I sit and stare at my computer all day to make sure people have meetings to discuss business about whether or not they are making enough money to satisfy The Man. Don't get me wrong, we also do really fantastic things in the process. But it just isn't something I thought I'd be doing. Where is this life changing moment I wanted so bad? Do I make a blood sacrifice sort of event? If so, I'm just not into that.

I get this itch, sometimes, to just do something crazy. To pick up my bag, fill it with two sets of clothes, then wander off into Canada. From there, I'd hitchhike my way across to Quebec. I'd somehow make it to Iceland. Then off into Scandinavia. Work my way through the country on foot, seeing sites, writing... Maybe I'd even meet someone while I'm not looking for anything in particular.

When I see this daydream in my head, and I look down at what I think I'd do written on paper, it never feels right. It feels like I'm running away. And I wouldn't be happy doing that either.

I'd be happier if I could be more honest with myself in the time that presents itself. People find me so extroverted, that I know what I want and rarely think otherwise. This is because my brain isn't attached to my body during these times. I'm just being someone I can't not be when I'm around people where I feel home. When I'm alone, that's when my brain brings about the insecurities of being an adult, what that means, and that I'm not quite ever going to be there. That my idea of being an adult doesn't form with the people who I looked up to most hurts, like I've been doing something wrong for the past 26 years. And I forget what I so firmly believed in so quickly, it makes me think if I ever actually do believe.

Today, when I run, I'm going to pretend that I'm running away from every single problem that has ever entered my life. Then, I'm going to stop, take off my headphones, and face the world. But, for that half hour, it will be bliss to pass the reigns of what I consider to be 'ruin'. I can start building on the ruin after that run.

A Venting of the Heart

I've never quite understood dating.

It's like I've some sort of spliced gene; I've got the quality, but not the substance.

Many times, I've pondered what it all means, and what it's meant for. Projects for school were dedicated. I tried to make a science of it, love. I watched documentaries, read books, made lists... I tried to control it.

Apparently, every body except me knows that you can't control love.

A friend signed me up for an online dating service. At first, I was completely open to the idea. After all, I live in place that barely gives me a man to look at. And the men who are there... long story short, they have more than enough problems.

It was fun, for a time. In the oddest way, I saw that I was attractive. People visited my site on a good average. I received many messages, all telling me that not only was I cute, but I had intelligence to boot. I was different.

I wasn't quite sure what to do. I responded to everything and everyone. I tried to do as the site said as well, which was search and message others; they said that females found better matches if they were just as assertive.

This has proved time and time again to be wrong in my experience. Assertiveness gives me nothing but trouble. Don't get me started on flirting.

This is mostly due to my inability to tell if people are flirting to be fun or serious. I flirt to be fun--a lot. It confuses a handful of guys, but once they see my sense of humor, they all join in. The problem with this? No one can tell when I'm seriously flirting. And it can get touchy oh-so-fast. Mostly because I can't tell if someone I start to seriously flirt with is being serious either.

Then, the bee dance commences. The godforsaken does-he-like-me-or-not bee dance from hell.

You know what I'm talking about. The part of when you can't tell whether he said he liked you in one way or another. The part of when he hugs you for longer than you expect and you think it means something. The part of when he smiles and you can tell he's genuinely happy around you.

And who can forget the part of when you act like a fool who can't stutter a word. The part when your message doesn't resound what you meant, or it could be taken both ways. When you stay up all night thinking of why he didn't message you back. The part, especially, when you realize you have no chance.

I stopped going to the website for a few weeks. It was all too much, the messages, the searching, the wondering if they're desperate--or if you are. The messages began to dissipate, but I still checked my email in hopes of finding something. Three successful marriages did occur in friends from dating online, so there had to be something to it, right?

In the science way, I came to a conclusion. It didn't matter whether I dated online or in person--I got the same response. People who I didn't like asking for dates; people who I would totally date not at all interested; people who both parties felt the connection, but something came up and nothing could come of it.

I'm fucked either way.

So, in a subdued way, I made my way back to the website. I updated my profile. I started answering questions to get better matches. I wrote back to people who had messaged me weeks ago and I hadn't responded.

Oddly, I started receiving a stream of messages, like I'd unblocked a pond that had once been a stream.

All these people, like me, were putting their hearts at risk, and thought I was worth it. They unabashedly said I was pretty and they were interested. They were doing what I couldn't: saying, "Let's go on a date." These people were doing much more than any guy in my "real life" would do--ask me out besides making me feel like I was wanted.

I'm still fucked--after all, I'm just as susceptible to the pros and cons on both internet dating and face-to-face. And, the guys all seem to be the same, no matter where I go (seriously, guys? Can you prove me wrong and be straight up for once?).

But there's a respect I have for online dating that I didn't have before. People who would never have the courage otherwise have a chance to get their word in and say something.

The bee dance has changed. And, until the guys out there are just as willing as the internet ones to come straight up and say "You're the one I want to date.", I'm apt to continue clicking away and finding what I want in life.

Fun Fact: The bee dance has always been a term I've used to explain how difficult it is for me to date. There always seems to be these steps I don't get, complicated steps that are supposed to mean the simplest of things--like "That pollen I got from that flower is right over there". I don't hate bees, but God knows I hate that dance.

Possible Satan Spawn

Anyone who thinks that Poison Sumac is an act of God, THEY'RE WRONG.

I have summer after summer of proof of this.

Between the tea tree oil, the Ivarest, the having it on your hands and arms and face to make one look like a mid-transformed dragon, and also making usual tasks a difficult feat, I can safely say that this creation was not God. God would never want this suffering upon someone.

I have been thankful that this case of sumac (or ivy, or oak... who the hell cares, it's THERE) hasn't been exactly itchy. The scale is on a low 1-2. However, on the annoying scale, it has received a high 15, over the thought highest peak of 10.

This morning, just as I was about to do a dance because I noticed my face has been becoming normal, I took notice that my hand was worse, and that I had an addition to that arm. My other arm wasn't looking any different, and I realized that my neck portion was probably going to take the longest, as my long hair and sleeping methods don't work as well.

Speaking of sleeping, it has been HELL.

The doctor said that I should sleep with a towel so I don't have to wash my sheets so often. This has proved so uncomfortable that I don't think I'm ever really sleeping. It's uncomfortable on my face, so I move to my back, but I never sleep on my back, so I can't sleep. It's like I'm sleeping on an airplane.

To make matters worse, I still have some scenes to shoot for my documentary, but I look like some raw blow fish. I can barely even edit my movies because moving the mouse and typing will either cause my sumac to become irritated because I'm moving against it, or my arms become sore since I'm holding them up very strategically so nothing gets touched.

Between these, I clean my dorm every day, freaked that something still holds the oils from the plant that did this to me.

I just want to have this over with.

But, per usual, this is only so much in my control.

Random Fact: Urushiol oil (the stuff that gives you a rash) stays active on any surface, including dead plants, for up to 5 years.

This Is The Dream Of Mallory

Here I am again, weighing the positives against the negatives.

I guess the main question is, am I continuing to be an RA for the right reasons?

With school as it is, things are becoming chores. Things are becoming obligations, rather than "fun ways to build a community."

And my residents deserve someone who will work hard at creating the life they so crave. Where they can throw garbage and not have repercussions. Where mandatory meetings are dreams. Where respect is optional.

Actually, they deserve an RA that causes them to not even want to do any of those things.

I think it may be because I'm twenty-two years old now, and more than half of my floor is nineteen or under. It's not necessarily a wisdom thing, but I'm focusing on myself right now (rightfully so, as I'm graduating next fall).

But it's also the knowledge that I don't get to do what I want to anymore. I can't visit my parents as often as I'd like, I can't make any money, can't go out as often as I'd like (and if I do, I feel guilty because I'm not on my floor), there's the constant worry of how I'm doing academically, physically, emotionally, and how the floor and I are working. All the time.

And every time I look at the pros, I think, "Free room and board. Social atmosphere. Possibly, resume."

I've just lost my passion for it. This summer looks promising, fun, even... But next year? I could go back and forth on what I actually want to do for days on end.

And the freedom.

But I also know that you get out of the job what you put into the job. It is now whether or not I want to continue to put in. I already feel as if I've dissipated--it's the end of the year, again, so I'm working hard on projects, getting sleep, and studying, just like the other students. Perhaps they forget that I am a person, too?

However, next year will have me in an entirely different building.

What I want is to work on my projects, and have other time to do what I love as well. I'd like to be able to help others, but know that I can help me when the time needs it as well. I want to be the person I love all of the time, not most of it.

I need to know what's right.

I need to think this out all over again...

Random Facts: Being an RA, whether you enjoy the job or not, is a huge challenge in-of itself.

Later Than Never

There are specific reasons why I don't post as often as I should. To be completely honest, it's mostly to do with being a Negative Nancy--you may thank my Mass Media & Society class, most of the time.

There's no wonder people would rather be entertained during this day and age--things are so depressing in our world, it's hard to tell where to begin to make it better. But, the fact of the matter is, it won't be getting better without us paying attention. I'm just afraid of my life being overtaken. Or, should I say, my life being about that, rather than enjoying what life has to offer. God knows how difficult it is to try and do both.

It's actually pretty sad, but a lot of my time isn't spent on the computer too often anymore--at least not for the purposes you'd think. My Tuesdays and Thursdays consist of me on a computer from 8am to 1:30pm... plus, two hours of homework through Dreamweaver. By the time I'm done, I don't have the want to stare into a screen for another how long to write a post, much less see anything else. But, I've also realized how important this thing is, as it keeps me writing and keeps people up-to-date on my life.

And it keeps me up-to-date as well.

I've been having weird dreams in the recent. One was about my mother and I having a huge fight, so bad that every time I passed her in the dream, a few seconds later I'd burst out into tears. I woke up feeling as if I'd spent the entire night crying. The other had me over at Mandikat's house, both me and her mother. I remember showering and getting ready for something, and there was something about books, painting and being depressed about... something. Ha. Interesting dream to all of you, I'm sure.

In the end, I stoked it all up to stress. Between school, being an RA and constant reminders of me being alone in the love department (livable, but it's still there), my dreams are beginning to become more vivid, as I don't get good enough sleep to be normal and not remember them as much. My subconcious sucks, sometimes--I need more dreams with lovely things.

I find that my saving grace in these negative times (shit economy, bad media, terrible democracy, etc.) are the smallest of positive factors. Video games. Good friends and family. Quick hugs. Small things do count. If you don't let them count, what would you have?

I've been watching Extras, as I just bought the two seasons and season finale with the gift cards I realized I had. I'll just place this out as a fact so the rest of the world may know: Ricky Gervais is a fucking genius. If you haven't watched Extras, The Office BBC... even Stardust (best surprise for me ever). He's epic. Brilliant.

On the side news, I've started making scarves for friends this Christmas early, as the cold days have already come. I've finished two of them, and will continue onward, some being hats or mittens depending on request. Amber and I decided to make things for each other out of what we do best, so I'm making her a scarf with leg warmers to match. She's going to use her bead-work to make me something, but I haven't a clue what. She's really good at making earrings, necklaces... spicing up a headband or making a dress for a pow-wow. She had the epiphany today what she was creating, and poked at me a little since I won't know for ages.

I'm excited for the holidays. Friends and family, all together for meals and sharing--Thanksgiving and Christmas have become my favorite holidays because of that.

When I was a child, I absolutely hated having those parties, when practically every person we knew would be over, "celebrating". Destroying what we'd just cleaned up was more how I liked to describe it. I remember cleaning my room for the occasion one year, and two other girls, the destruction crew as I remember them every year, went up into my loft bed and began throwing my books around like candy at some sort of parade. Perhaps that was the moment when I realized I hated people my own age. Maybe just people in general. I'll never really know.

what I do know is that the time was mostly spent with me feeling awkward with adults around, whom only had male children my brother's age. I'd finally yank on my snow gear and grab my sled to go off the jump we'd made earlier. Right next to the snowperson I'd made angry at sexism one year by giving it breasts. And my brother later placed a penis on.

Now, instead of gender confused snowpeople, we gather round because we're all so spread apart by distance. The day is spent creating the meal. The night is spent eating and playing Nintendo Wii. Today, I count my gifts at hearing my parents' voices, Michelle's laughter and stories, Deb's crazy antics and my brother's sense of humor. My favorite Thanksgiving was spending the holiday with my Auntie Egg and Uncle Mike.

I hope that we can all still enjoy the holidays coming up as we used to. The older I get, the more important I find my friends and family to be. To lose any of that... I wouldn't dare think.

Random Fact: About 90% of Americans view themselves as being shy. HA.

Bad Timing

When I mentioned that being an RA tests my multitasking skills, I certainly meant it. Though I have managed to keep up with going to classes and getting assignments done, I haven't managed to keep some time to myself until this week.

Being around people can really wear you out.

It has been a very filled week. I sometimes feel as if I have different lives at the same time, doing so many things, and I get lost in what I'm doing until I finally take a break and set myself aside to do other matters to get lost in.

A wistful me wonders what it would be like to not have such worries. One that has enough money at all times, that studying wasn't needful and had the social grace to keep up with friends, rather than chat with for thirty minute intervals once every three months. It's an interesting concept, a parallel universe in which that is probably happening. Would I be happier or more depressed? With someone? Liked?

And then I begin to wonder why I even start to think of things as such--I'm here, now, who I am supposed to be. I'm rather sick of thinking of how things could/should be. I want things happening. Now.

This is the time in which I tell you I already know that I'm an impatient person who wants to control what happens. All this really ends up doing is making me anxious and unhappy with the turn of events. What a cycle.

The only worst aspect of this is that I'm getting worse and worse with my sleeping cycle. I'll stay up late and get up early, but I can't seem to get tired enough to just collapse on the bed and sleep early, even with exercise added to the equation.

Instead, I lay and think for a while. I don't actually dream, but "day"dream in my head. I go through conversations I've had and think of odd jokes I've heard throughout the years. I cuddle my pillows, shut my eyes and think of my favorite dreams.

So, I'm being a little melodramatic. It's just that, the longer I'm around this Earth, I begin to realize that normal doesn't exist--not really. Anything we consider to be normal, if you were to take that second look...

From a child, we are told how things are. From parents, from teachers, from friends, from peers, from media... and they're all distorted, because they've all got they're own agenda, and they're not the same as anybody else. Parents, teachers, friends, peers, media... depending where you are, it's all different. And every person will have it differently as well. Complicated system, it is.

But, what I wouldn't do for a deep, fulfilled sleep.

I swear, I will be writing more frequently and about more interesting things in the soon--I just had to write the awkward entry of "I haven't written in a while" to get me started.

Random Fact: Mamihlapinatapai--a look shared by two people with each wishing that the other will initiate something that both desire but which neither one wants to start

To Siblings

That is a montage my brother and one of his friends made in around 2004 with Halo 2.

My brother and I never had the best of all relationships when I was younger. I mean, it was a typical relationship of brother/sister. Fighting, but still loving.

When I think back, I automatically think to video games. They've always been something we have in common, whether we agree or not about if it's good. I can't even begin to count the number of times I started to play a game and he stormed down the stairs and forced me off the console so he could play instead.

But I never really minded watching him play. Everything was silent, then, except for the noises from the game. The lights were turned off, us cuddled in blankets against pillows (me usually on top of the pool table), eyes focused on the screen--you know, the typical healthy American way. He'd play GoldenEye, Eternal Darkness, Jet Force Gemini... It wasn't until he changed his room to the basement that these moments drifted from my life. At times, I'd make my way down to find him playing in his room, and I'd crawl next to him on his bed and just watch him play his SNES, which I still to this day have never touched (his SNES, anyway).

Xbox came out, he went to college and I to my arts high school... We grew up a lot then, I think.

It was Halo that brought it back. He was always leaving and playing, but he one day suddenly asked me, "Don't you know the plot of Halo?" Thus, the weekend was dedicated to me watching Halo, the first and second. I'm not a first-person-shooter-kinda-gal, so I watched most of it after the first few "chapters," but we played almost all the way through. It wouldn't be until Halo 3 was almost out that I'd get to see that ending.

And now I'm in college while he's down in the cities, making his business. I don't think we've played a game together since before I went to New Zealand, when Mario Party 8 came out. He's out in the big world, making money whilst living in his new home...

I sometimes wonder what I'll do. I'm 21 and not even close to being in his status, as far as I'm concerned. I have no clue about where my job could take me--it seems so random, as I usually am. I'm worried about growing up and what it may entail. I'm worried that what I've chosen to do isn't really "growing up" and that, 10 years down the road, I'll realize that what I'm doing doesn't entail being an adult and I should do something else. Because I won't make enough money. I'll either be doing something in wait to do what I want or I'll be in the job struggling to get to a point where I can be satisfied.

I look at my brother and see success in all aspects, even if he doesn't see it. He's managed to keep friends and not have those stupid huge fights I had. He always got good grades, did a lot of social events, managed money well, now has a well paying job, his own house, travels for business... I mean, I'm not saying he's perfect (fucking far from), but he always had those good points I never managed to grasp. Points I feel I need to make it in the world I feel I'll never fit into.

A few days ago, I gave in and made myself a more professional email. I've never felt so normal, or like a sheep, in my life.

I really miss my brother. I feel that I appreciate him so much more now than I did when I was a kid. His humor, his attributes, his way of thinking... Yet again, due to the force of becoming an adult, whether we want to or not, we're wedged apart by time and money, at least in my aspect. I can't even find time/money to visit Mandikat, let alone my family.

I sometimes feel as if every day takes away a small part of my childhood. It says, "Here's what you can't have anymore. It's time for you to be on your own and make things happen!" But I feel like I can't. Why in the hell would I want to work so hard in life at something I don't want to do if the only real reason why I want to live is so I can be with my friends and family? That's why I work so hard in college for what I want to do. But what if I can't get what I want in my job? I don't want to spend the rest of my life trying to get to that success point, forgetting the great things in life to get there. I'd much rather just have the great things.

Being an RA has tested my skills of multitasking. I love being an RA, yes, but there's no time left to be intimate with anyone, whether that be friends, family, lovers... It's like having a million hobbies, but never having any true time to become the master I want to be. A jack-of-all-trades. At one time, I wanted to be that--but I always wanted to be the best at it all, too.

I probably won't see my brother until October. Then, I'll be seeing my grandparents as well. But I hope I can get in some quality time. Because I wouldn't trade him for anything.

Random Fact: Three years of a person's life is spent on the toilet. Shit.

On Duty

I know I haven't updated for ages, but I feel like I have a legitimate reason, which is the end of the year stresses. There is just too much going on for any body's health.

Technically, I was done with finals last Thursday. I was given an extra day in two of my classes to fix some smudges here and there for portfolios (everyone got it), and then I went home for the weekend to spend Mother's Day with family and friends. I then got back to a time of being on the brim of constant panic. I don't have anything to panic about, but I've gotten the bug just when I thought I'd puked it out.

Most of it is just nerves for summer. I want it to begin so bad, my brain hurts. I'm consistently in my room for check outs, when everything is happening for goodbyes at a different time. That's the thing about being an RA. When the fun is happening, you usually have to say no--it's what I've signed up to do, so I'll live with it, but most of my Senior friends are having get together times that I truly wish to be involved in. Who the hell knows when I'll officially see them again? They're going out into the real world. I've a few years before I can finally make that step in the forevers.

Of course, there are other stress-related things, for sure doing with the relationship statuses of the everyone. Mandikat broke up with her boyfriend of seven years, people are getting engaged like the plague whilst others are getting pregnant/married within the next months. Others are considering/have cheated on their "significant" others.

To be honest, it's a hard choice to say which disgusts me most. Seeing people kind of throw their lives away by marrying young and having kids, money lost on the college never well spent or the thought of people cheating. Probably the cheating. I get a little sick whenever I think of myself in any of those positions. For myself, I am too young to want myself to have a kid or get married; I have the dreams and goals for my future that includes the money I've invested.

But cheating? I don't care what it is. There is harm. Betrayal of trust. It embodies everything that... I hate? It's a hard thing for me to not be judgmental of. It's something that can be avoided by the choices we make. It never "just happens". Something has been leading up to it, and if it happens, then those choices from the beginning should not have been made.

I'm tired. Extremely so. I'm on a constant go. I can't even take precious naps, as there's always a phone ringing or a door knocking. You think I'm bragging, that I think of myself in popular demand. This is just the end of the year.

But I have my happy moments. I brought more things up from home to make my stay in the same room for the next year and a half more comfortable. I've been playing Mario Kart Wii in any non-working waking hour. I walk the puppies at the Humane Society, play Guitar Hero with friends and have some of the most memorable conversations with people I now consider to be best friends.

College really is some of the best years of my life. And I plan on continuing that factor, even after my education is finished.

Random Fact: The common belief that dogs are color blind is false. Dogs can see color, but it is not as vivid a color scheme as we see. They distinguish between blue, yellow, and gray, but probably do not see red and green. This is much like our vision at twilight.

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.

Finals

Finals are coming upon me and I'm tired as heck. It's not so much of studying, but the fact that I finally managed to get my hands on a PS2 with God of War II. So, staying up late and playing plus working on extra papers have just worn me out.

I'm also getting stressed about how close it is to getting home. It's not that I do want to leave or don't want to leave... it's just that it's getting so close and I get nervous about flying. Not while in the air, but leading up to it. There's so much to remember, and I don't want to leave one thing here (well, the important things, anyways). I know that I won't forget anything important. I'm too freaked out to. But the point is that I'm freaked out about it. I'm starting to get a rash, just like I was getting before I left for New Zealand. On my forearms and my neck, I'll scratch and scratch. It didn't hit me until today that it's probably a stress rash, nothing too serious, and I've managed to find ways to calm myself.

Last night, I couldn't even get to sleep as my head was overwhelmed with thoughts. But then I thought about the airport, getting off the plane and seeing my parents and possibly Mandikat. My heart rate slowed down and my thoughts went calm. I realized that through all the stress, good was coming of it.

I've heard about the fires in California and I'm not too particularly worried, though I do hope everyone is okay. Apparently, my Great Auntie Meg has been helping, and I've decided that if things are still going tough, I'll volunteer my time to help out. It'll be a different Thanksgiving, but at least I'll be around the ones I love.



That's Gina and me. I don't approve of my haircut, but this was taken a few weeks ago, so it's growing out... I think I'll wait to get home to cut it, so I know I'm getting it done by someone I trust. And am not paying an arm and a leg.

Well, now I'm finished with work and just "studying" for finals. And then I'll have almost two months off until the next year.

Sweet.

Random Fact: 40% of McDonald’s profits come from the sales of Happy Meals