So here's another saga of an ex-exchange student.
I'm being haunted by memories of Croatia.
Last year I spent my Christmas time missing home. Totally understandable.
I didn't cry or weep or sit around being a little Negative Nelly. That wouldn't be a good look for an exchange student. But God did I miss home. I looked at statuses and pictures of people talking about being home for Christmas. I was jealous and upset. I wanted to spend my Christmas with my family, more than anything.
(In my other blog page I mentioned that Thanksgiving was harder than Christmas for me, but regardless, they were both pretty hard. Christmas was just easier because I'd already gone through the extreme need to be with my family already so I knew how to deal.)
But anyways. It was hard for me.
Now that I'm home and spent my Christmas with my family, I feel something else towards it. Don't get me wrong, I'm more than happy to be home for Christmas this year. It's nice to see what I missed out on last year and all. But I still find myself sad and missing something else.
I'm missing my Christmas in Croatia. With that family. With those friends. With those memories. With that life.
I've been struggling with this long enough to ponder and analyze myself enough that it's gotten to the point where I can't sleep.
Every moment of everyday I sit around thinking about something or someone from my year abroad.
I might have thought before was hard, but this is an all time low.
With every break up or sad parting, people say give it time and you'll be okay.
I'm not okay. I mean, granted, they probably mean a whole lot more time than six months but it's most definitely not getting any easier. It gets harder and harder as the months go by.
And that was before the dreams started.
About two weeks ago, my brain turned against me. Every night I go to sleep feeling moderately okay. But as soon as I wake up from whatever tortuous dream my brain has put me through, I feel lost and confused and sad.
Every night I have a dream about being in Croatia or in Europe or with my friends or family from Croatia.
As soon as I wake up, I have to remind myself of where I am. Remind myself I'm in the states, in my bed, with my family and my cats. And I still feel an overwhelming wave of sadness hit me. It's a struggle every morning when I have to deal with an actual dream of me returning to my 2nd home to find out that I wasn't really there, and it was all an illusion and that happiness was only fleeting.
It sucks balls.
I sort of tried talking to my sister and dad about one dream but it just sounded like another whine about how I miss Croatia and how everything here wasn't good enough for me and yada yada yada. Which is most definitely not the case.
I love being home. I love having my family so nearby and being able to spend hours talking to them without having to worry about my mic not working on skype or the hour being too late due to the time difference.
It all just sucks.
That's the amount of vocab I can put into this feeling after spending one semester in college. I know, impressive.
It's the best way I can describe it without carrying on with adjectives and analogies and what not.
It all just sucks so much.
I'm not much of one to cry about a lot so it's good to know that it hasn't gotten that low. But I'm afraid for the day when it will.
I would do anything in my power to go back to Croatia. Even for a day, though I know it wouldn't be long enough. No time will.
I'm like a lovesick twilight fan here. Bleh!
And when I say that memories of it trouble me, I don't mean like five minutes of it every other day. It's usually about every other five minutes of every day. It blows.
And I know that if I was in Croatia for another year, I'd sit there complaining about how I miss things from Wisconsin.
I just can't be happy.
I want what I don't have. Always a problem for any common human being, more specially a dramatic teenage girl who has an unhealthy relationship with her cats.
I'd do anything to have the money to live in Croatia. I want to go to college there so badly. Hopefully get a job there so I can come home for holidays. Maybe that'd balance out. But I've looked into colleges and all and have come to the conclusion that a college degree in the U.S. looks 10 times better than one from Croatia. But still...boo!
I'm sorry if this is a weird blog. It's just a sad one about a sad girl with sad hopes and sad problems.
I just hope that these gosh dang dreams lighten up a little.
Croatia haunts me.... First world problems, I know.
Well that was my boo whoo moment for the time being. I'm sorry for those who read this that I took it out on you. No amount of talking about it makes it better, it probably only makes it worse. Since talking about it leads me to finding solutions that never really are good ones in the long run so it only leads me to feeling like there's not much hope. And then I'm back to the drawing board. And not to mention the fact that I bum out everyone who had to listen to it.
Okay whatever, I'll man up, rub some dirt in it, grow some balls, be a lady and all.
Here's to me, growing a pair.
Night y'all
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
OMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOMGGG
So I consider this fabulous news. Brightened my day up after listening all day to professors talking about all the up and coming exams I'm about to sell my soul for to pass.
While in Croatia, at my Croatian school, I didn't exactly have a lot of friends. It's was a sticky situation because the kids in my class were used to having exchange students and the Americans before me were sent home for smoking some illegal substances. They weren't all that open to more exchangers, especially their last year together, and not exactly thrilled with Americans. So there were only a couple kids in my class who were open to me and inviting. Three, to be more exact. One had a boyfriend she spent a lot of time with. One was the friendly, unavailable hot guy with many friends. And the last was an extremely flamboyant guy. I loved hanging out with the last one because he was into the same things as me, funny, and actually paid attention to me which my other classmates failed to do. Since we talked all the time, some classmates rumored that he had a crush on me. But I wasn't so sure because I knew he was gay...but I was the only one who knew, literally, only one (meaning he did not). He found out about my brother being gay later on and I told him about some of my gay friends.
To those who don't know, being gay in Croatia is 100 times harder than the U.S. Yes there are people who accept it with no judgement, but I only met a few people like that. It's sort of frowned upon which made me upset but you can't change a whole countries view point by yourself, much less in one year. I worked on it with my first host sister and some friends, including my in-the-closet friend.
Today, however, we were messaging each other asking how each other's lives were and all and that's when I heard the glorious news. He came out to me!
I'm beyond beyond beyonddd excited for him. I know that life is going to be difficult for him, and God do I know that people would be easier on him if he weren't gay. But we are who we are, as Ke$ha put so nicely. And life only gets harder for us when we deny that fact.
I don't know who else he has come out to or if he has come out to anyone else at all. But I can't help to think that maybe I helped him. Or at least I could be there for him when he needed someone.
I know that the sayings all say something about changing the world one person at a time or whatever it is. I sort of knew it was possible, but I didn't seem myself really doing anything, not yet at least. But it's moments like this that make it worth the effort. Just one person, that's all I needed.
Goal #1- Get a gay out of the closet.
CHECK
next on my list, world hunger. easy piecey lemon squeezey.
I AM WOMAN! AHHH
I'm sorry I'm trying my best to put my excitement into this blog without coming off as an annoying 13 year old.
Hello, my name is Emma. And I'm here to make you gays come out and pass my econ exam, all in one week.
Reminds me, I have to study for econ now.
See you on the flip side
So I consider this fabulous news. Brightened my day up after listening all day to professors talking about all the up and coming exams I'm about to sell my soul for to pass.
While in Croatia, at my Croatian school, I didn't exactly have a lot of friends. It's was a sticky situation because the kids in my class were used to having exchange students and the Americans before me were sent home for smoking some illegal substances. They weren't all that open to more exchangers, especially their last year together, and not exactly thrilled with Americans. So there were only a couple kids in my class who were open to me and inviting. Three, to be more exact. One had a boyfriend she spent a lot of time with. One was the friendly, unavailable hot guy with many friends. And the last was an extremely flamboyant guy. I loved hanging out with the last one because he was into the same things as me, funny, and actually paid attention to me which my other classmates failed to do. Since we talked all the time, some classmates rumored that he had a crush on me. But I wasn't so sure because I knew he was gay...but I was the only one who knew, literally, only one (meaning he did not). He found out about my brother being gay later on and I told him about some of my gay friends.
To those who don't know, being gay in Croatia is 100 times harder than the U.S. Yes there are people who accept it with no judgement, but I only met a few people like that. It's sort of frowned upon which made me upset but you can't change a whole countries view point by yourself, much less in one year. I worked on it with my first host sister and some friends, including my in-the-closet friend.
Today, however, we were messaging each other asking how each other's lives were and all and that's when I heard the glorious news. He came out to me!
I'm beyond beyond beyonddd excited for him. I know that life is going to be difficult for him, and God do I know that people would be easier on him if he weren't gay. But we are who we are, as Ke$ha put so nicely. And life only gets harder for us when we deny that fact.
I don't know who else he has come out to or if he has come out to anyone else at all. But I can't help to think that maybe I helped him. Or at least I could be there for him when he needed someone.
I know that the sayings all say something about changing the world one person at a time or whatever it is. I sort of knew it was possible, but I didn't seem myself really doing anything, not yet at least. But it's moments like this that make it worth the effort. Just one person, that's all I needed.
Goal #1- Get a gay out of the closet.
CHECK
next on my list, world hunger. easy piecey lemon squeezey.
I AM WOMAN! AHHH
I'm sorry I'm trying my best to put my excitement into this blog without coming off as an annoying 13 year old.
Hello, my name is Emma. And I'm here to make you gays come out and pass my econ exam, all in one week.
Reminds me, I have to study for econ now.
See you on the flip side
Thursday, December 1, 2011
To the people who have done me wrong, upset me, never apologized, or never cared. And it's to the people who I never got to apologize to, or explain myself.
Does it make you feel special? When I constantly check up on you to see how you are, how life is, what you've been doing, do you ever care about me? Do you even realize that I'm trying? Do you care that I'm trying? Does it make you feel superior to me because I appear to care more for you than you do for me? Do you ever wonder how that makes me feel?
Maybe I don't care for you more than you do for me. But I was just born with a heart and the ability to care for someone else's feelings. Maybe I don't like having troubles sleeping at night because I mistreated a "friend" by not showing them much compassion.
Do you ever think about our friendship? Our memories? Does it ever make you sad? Do you miss it at all?
I'd be honest with you and tell you that I missed it, but since you haven't exactly been to upfront and honest with me, I guess I'll keep that to myself. I would hate to appear to care for you more than you do for me. And I would hate to put you in the position where you'd have to show some sort of emotional connection with me, or just any kind of connection.
Do you ever look back and wonder "what if I gave Emma a chance?" I do, every day. I sit there and think about how you tore me down with no thought about my well-being, my physical or emotional state, or much less what I wanted. I sit and think and think and the bitterness just grows and grows. I thought maybe, if I just let it go, I'd realize it wasn't a big deal and I'd hate you less and less. But I guess that when it was my own chance, my own opportunity, that I sat by patiently waiting for, no matter how big of a deal it had been or not, it was something I worked my butt off for and waited for only to have it ripped away from me because you didn't think I tried that hard, I just can't seem to let it go. Do you ever realize how much effect you can have on someone life? Does it ever shock you how you can be imprinted in someone else's memories for the actions you take on them?
I tend to be level headed. I defend both sides of every argument.
But I can't defend you. I can't see your side as anything but selfish, immature, and rude.
It's sad that people might actually look up to you. It's unfortunate that you know people look up to you. And you continue to do what you do with pride.
When you look back on your past, do you only see yourself? Or do you see me in it too? I look back on your past and all I see is you. I was apart of it. It effected me more than you know. But you never wanted me there. I was never included. Life is full of mistakes. But the same mistake day after day, month after month, year after year. No one seems to understand the depth of your mistake on my life. The power you hold over my childhood memories is grave. You have been and always will be apart of my life. And that is how I would want it. But the pain doesn't really go away. I can forget for a few hours, maybe even days. But sooner or later I look back and think "why wasn't I wanted? why couldn't I be loved or liked by you? what could I have done differently? and was it all worth it for you?" Do you regret those things you did? Does it ever bother you that you ripped apart the people who only cared for you the most? Do you ever feel a need to bring it up and say you're sorry? Do you ever feel like breaking down and crying about it? Or does it make it easier for you to act like it never happened?
How dare you. How dare you! I don't know who you think you are? But I'll tell you one thing, you are nothing near better than me. You're nothing near better than anyone here. You say these things that you don't mean and don't understand only because you have one goal; to tears us down. You don't know me. You don't know him or him or her. You see only with your eyes. You listened only with your ears. You don't put any more effort into the people around you because you don't think you need to. You don't think you should have to because who are we compared to you? Right? Well I'll tell you one thing. We are humans. We are people. We love who we love. We say what we feel. We see and listen and speak with our hearts. We understand people because what is it all worth if you don't try to understand others. You are an inconsiderate human being. You won't go anywhere in life because you make no effort to change where you are. You are content with knowing only what you've ever known. Knowledge to you could be summed up in one thin paperback book. We, on the other hand, want to advance. We want to be more than what we are now. We want to impress people, break stereotypes, and prove to people that we are who we choose to be. The law can't tell us who to be. You can't tell us who to be. I hope your life as something totally and completely unimportant and insignificant fills you up. I hope that at the end of you day, your the happiest you've ever been, which probably won't be that great. But I do hope that you think you are feeling happiness. I hope you think you feel fulfilled. Because I'm a considerate person, you asshole.
I'm sorry. The words are said to easily sometimes and without the amount of feelings it suppose to have. But I say it with the true means of an apology. I'm sorry. I won't add a but, or however. Because a true apology has no excuse. I won't sit here and say I'm sorry, but (insert something that generally means I still think I was right). What I did was rude and made me the years worst friend. I only thought about myself. I put thoughts into my head where I could turn the situation and blame it on you. And when I said it out loud, it never really truly made sense. Iit was all I needed to justify my actions. I know, now, far too late, that it didn't justify anything. Well, it sure justified my bitch move. My total and complete failure and being a humane and normal human being who had a heart. I was scared. I was confused. I didn't know what to think or feel or.... I thought pushing you like that, away, would make me feel better. And, I'll be blunt and honest, I thought it did make me feel better. To just be alone. That feeling didn't last long, though. Now I live remembering how I treated you and I hate who I was towards you everyday. I know now it may not seem like a big deal. It was a long time ago. I was suppose to be a friend. And I did a terrible job of that.
I don't know why you hate me so. I really can't bring myself to say I hate you, even with all the things you did to me. I think you just woke up one morning and the first thing you thought was "I'm going to hate Emma". When I thought you were maybe afraid I was after your boyfriend, I sent an apology to you saying I had no intentions with him. I made it clear to you that I was a friend. And what did you do? You sent me hate mail. You bitched and yelled and did whatever you could think of to tear me apart. You tried to pull my friends away from me. You tried to make me look bad. You took whatever opportunity you could to turn the tables on everything I did, so that I would be to blame or at fault. You tried and tried, but because you didn't realize that I am, in fact, Emma FREAKING Hansen, you failed and you failed. I take no glory in that...okay maybe a little. But I don't mean to rub it in your face. But why is it that you disliked me so much? I never wronged you. I never even talked to you until you decided we were enemies. You were a stranger to me and I was and am a stranger to you. I guess when the day is done, you need someone to blame. Having a reason for the terrible things in life makes it easier. Why would you want to live each day thinking terrible things happen randomly without reason to innocent people? It's terrible and scary. Life is always more surreal with a person to blame. And I was your opportunity to shut out the truths of the world and the chaos it brings. I was you scapegoat.
I won't say who these are for. And I'm not sure why I feel a need to post it.
Majority of suicide attempts are never really meant to follow through with the deed. The people attempting are only hoping for the attention, for the last minute realization people have about how much they truly care for that person who almost lost their lives. It may seem stupid, selfish. But everyone needs a little of that every now and then. Otherwise, we just feel alone, and feeling alone leads to a list of other unhappy feelings that lead to an unhappy half-said, half-lived life.
So maybe this is my form of suicide attempt. I'm analyzing my decision to post this as I write now. I wasn't going to in the beginning.
I was just having those thoughts you have late at night, right before you fall asleep. Those what-ifs and wishes to go back and say more or less. And I felt like I needed to let it out. To write it down, in hopes that the guilt feelings of never speaking up would disappear.
Sidenote (God I know this is long...longer that I expected)
I was reading this book.The story line would make you roll your eyes but basically this guy, possible mythical creature like a fairy, is on a search to find himself a soul. He has to go through these tests to see if he can handle it. One test includes him being normal, without a power meaning he is weaker, defenseless, and harder to heal. Another test includes him having to realize he will be mortal and will die. And the last test is living with the guilt that he use to be able to so easily push aside and forget. He had done terrible things to people and remembering it made him want to end his trials right there and find a dark hole and die in it.
My point is, that the thing that gives us a soul, is being able to live with the guilt. Having guilt is not a pleasurable or enviable trait. But us dealing with it, everyday, being able to face reminders and live to see the next sunrise...it's extraordinary. We constantly underestimate the strength we all hold within our own minds. We all have our own battles. We are all fighting something. But we live each day, going about our business, communicating...as if there are no guns going off in your head...we are strong and we are amazing.
Well anyways, the reason I posted this is not so clear to me. I want to be honest and tell you whatever it honestly is that brings me to hit PUBLISH POST. But it may have to be something I ponder as I fall asleep tonight.
It could be because there's always that small part of you that just wants someone to know. It's hard to just be in their face and saying it. But to think that there is a possibility they know but you don't know for sure, it's more comforting...I'm not sure. This could be something that only I feel...which only makes me look like a bitch, but hey, this is who I am.
Sweet dreams world.
Remember, seriously, we are all so much stronger than we give ourselves credit for. Remind yourself of that more often, because I have a feeling that we don't hear that enough.
Does it make you feel special? When I constantly check up on you to see how you are, how life is, what you've been doing, do you ever care about me? Do you even realize that I'm trying? Do you care that I'm trying? Does it make you feel superior to me because I appear to care more for you than you do for me? Do you ever wonder how that makes me feel?
Maybe I don't care for you more than you do for me. But I was just born with a heart and the ability to care for someone else's feelings. Maybe I don't like having troubles sleeping at night because I mistreated a "friend" by not showing them much compassion.
Do you ever think about our friendship? Our memories? Does it ever make you sad? Do you miss it at all?
I'd be honest with you and tell you that I missed it, but since you haven't exactly been to upfront and honest with me, I guess I'll keep that to myself. I would hate to appear to care for you more than you do for me. And I would hate to put you in the position where you'd have to show some sort of emotional connection with me, or just any kind of connection.
Do you ever look back and wonder "what if I gave Emma a chance?" I do, every day. I sit there and think about how you tore me down with no thought about my well-being, my physical or emotional state, or much less what I wanted. I sit and think and think and the bitterness just grows and grows. I thought maybe, if I just let it go, I'd realize it wasn't a big deal and I'd hate you less and less. But I guess that when it was my own chance, my own opportunity, that I sat by patiently waiting for, no matter how big of a deal it had been or not, it was something I worked my butt off for and waited for only to have it ripped away from me because you didn't think I tried that hard, I just can't seem to let it go. Do you ever realize how much effect you can have on someone life? Does it ever shock you how you can be imprinted in someone else's memories for the actions you take on them?
I tend to be level headed. I defend both sides of every argument.
But I can't defend you. I can't see your side as anything but selfish, immature, and rude.
It's sad that people might actually look up to you. It's unfortunate that you know people look up to you. And you continue to do what you do with pride.
When you look back on your past, do you only see yourself? Or do you see me in it too? I look back on your past and all I see is you. I was apart of it. It effected me more than you know. But you never wanted me there. I was never included. Life is full of mistakes. But the same mistake day after day, month after month, year after year. No one seems to understand the depth of your mistake on my life. The power you hold over my childhood memories is grave. You have been and always will be apart of my life. And that is how I would want it. But the pain doesn't really go away. I can forget for a few hours, maybe even days. But sooner or later I look back and think "why wasn't I wanted? why couldn't I be loved or liked by you? what could I have done differently? and was it all worth it for you?" Do you regret those things you did? Does it ever bother you that you ripped apart the people who only cared for you the most? Do you ever feel a need to bring it up and say you're sorry? Do you ever feel like breaking down and crying about it? Or does it make it easier for you to act like it never happened?
How dare you. How dare you! I don't know who you think you are? But I'll tell you one thing, you are nothing near better than me. You're nothing near better than anyone here. You say these things that you don't mean and don't understand only because you have one goal; to tears us down. You don't know me. You don't know him or him or her. You see only with your eyes. You listened only with your ears. You don't put any more effort into the people around you because you don't think you need to. You don't think you should have to because who are we compared to you? Right? Well I'll tell you one thing. We are humans. We are people. We love who we love. We say what we feel. We see and listen and speak with our hearts. We understand people because what is it all worth if you don't try to understand others. You are an inconsiderate human being. You won't go anywhere in life because you make no effort to change where you are. You are content with knowing only what you've ever known. Knowledge to you could be summed up in one thin paperback book. We, on the other hand, want to advance. We want to be more than what we are now. We want to impress people, break stereotypes, and prove to people that we are who we choose to be. The law can't tell us who to be. You can't tell us who to be. I hope your life as something totally and completely unimportant and insignificant fills you up. I hope that at the end of you day, your the happiest you've ever been, which probably won't be that great. But I do hope that you think you are feeling happiness. I hope you think you feel fulfilled. Because I'm a considerate person, you asshole.
I'm sorry. The words are said to easily sometimes and without the amount of feelings it suppose to have. But I say it with the true means of an apology. I'm sorry. I won't add a but, or however. Because a true apology has no excuse. I won't sit here and say I'm sorry, but (insert something that generally means I still think I was right). What I did was rude and made me the years worst friend. I only thought about myself. I put thoughts into my head where I could turn the situation and blame it on you. And when I said it out loud, it never really truly made sense. Iit was all I needed to justify my actions. I know, now, far too late, that it didn't justify anything. Well, it sure justified my bitch move. My total and complete failure and being a humane and normal human being who had a heart. I was scared. I was confused. I didn't know what to think or feel or.... I thought pushing you like that, away, would make me feel better. And, I'll be blunt and honest, I thought it did make me feel better. To just be alone. That feeling didn't last long, though. Now I live remembering how I treated you and I hate who I was towards you everyday. I know now it may not seem like a big deal. It was a long time ago. I was suppose to be a friend. And I did a terrible job of that.
I don't know why you hate me so. I really can't bring myself to say I hate you, even with all the things you did to me. I think you just woke up one morning and the first thing you thought was "I'm going to hate Emma". When I thought you were maybe afraid I was after your boyfriend, I sent an apology to you saying I had no intentions with him. I made it clear to you that I was a friend. And what did you do? You sent me hate mail. You bitched and yelled and did whatever you could think of to tear me apart. You tried to pull my friends away from me. You tried to make me look bad. You took whatever opportunity you could to turn the tables on everything I did, so that I would be to blame or at fault. You tried and tried, but because you didn't realize that I am, in fact, Emma FREAKING Hansen, you failed and you failed. I take no glory in that...okay maybe a little. But I don't mean to rub it in your face. But why is it that you disliked me so much? I never wronged you. I never even talked to you until you decided we were enemies. You were a stranger to me and I was and am a stranger to you. I guess when the day is done, you need someone to blame. Having a reason for the terrible things in life makes it easier. Why would you want to live each day thinking terrible things happen randomly without reason to innocent people? It's terrible and scary. Life is always more surreal with a person to blame. And I was your opportunity to shut out the truths of the world and the chaos it brings. I was you scapegoat.
I won't say who these are for. And I'm not sure why I feel a need to post it.
Majority of suicide attempts are never really meant to follow through with the deed. The people attempting are only hoping for the attention, for the last minute realization people have about how much they truly care for that person who almost lost their lives. It may seem stupid, selfish. But everyone needs a little of that every now and then. Otherwise, we just feel alone, and feeling alone leads to a list of other unhappy feelings that lead to an unhappy half-said, half-lived life.
So maybe this is my form of suicide attempt. I'm analyzing my decision to post this as I write now. I wasn't going to in the beginning.
I was just having those thoughts you have late at night, right before you fall asleep. Those what-ifs and wishes to go back and say more or less. And I felt like I needed to let it out. To write it down, in hopes that the guilt feelings of never speaking up would disappear.
Sidenote (God I know this is long...longer that I expected)
I was reading this book.The story line would make you roll your eyes but basically this guy, possible mythical creature like a fairy, is on a search to find himself a soul. He has to go through these tests to see if he can handle it. One test includes him being normal, without a power meaning he is weaker, defenseless, and harder to heal. Another test includes him having to realize he will be mortal and will die. And the last test is living with the guilt that he use to be able to so easily push aside and forget. He had done terrible things to people and remembering it made him want to end his trials right there and find a dark hole and die in it.
My point is, that the thing that gives us a soul, is being able to live with the guilt. Having guilt is not a pleasurable or enviable trait. But us dealing with it, everyday, being able to face reminders and live to see the next sunrise...it's extraordinary. We constantly underestimate the strength we all hold within our own minds. We all have our own battles. We are all fighting something. But we live each day, going about our business, communicating...as if there are no guns going off in your head...we are strong and we are amazing.
Well anyways, the reason I posted this is not so clear to me. I want to be honest and tell you whatever it honestly is that brings me to hit PUBLISH POST. But it may have to be something I ponder as I fall asleep tonight.
It could be because there's always that small part of you that just wants someone to know. It's hard to just be in their face and saying it. But to think that there is a possibility they know but you don't know for sure, it's more comforting...I'm not sure. This could be something that only I feel...which only makes me look like a bitch, but hey, this is who I am.
Sweet dreams world.
Remember, seriously, we are all so much stronger than we give ourselves credit for. Remind yourself of that more often, because I have a feeling that we don't hear that enough.
Monday, November 14, 2011
Real quick.
I think people find it easier to just see the world as black and white. People are either good or bad. It would definitely make it easier to hate someone if you could just simply think they were bad. Everyone wants a final answer, a definite response instead of being unsure of something or someone. I used to think it was maybe just a middle school thing, but then high school came along and then I thought it was a high school thing. And then I went abroad a met a whole different type of people and here I am in college and I see that it's everywhere. I would blame that mind set on immaturity. But it's not necessarily immature.
I just found myself thinking I didn't like someone because they did me wrong in the past. But then I have a memory of them doing a random kind act for someone. And then it hit me. Maybe I feel better just being able to have it said and done and out of the way to just think I don't like them. But I know this person may have done a wrong act. And they have probably done a few already and will do more in the future. But I also know that this person is a good person, a decent person, who tries to do good for the world.
So yes, it's quick and easy and simple to just not think about them as people. If you just think of this person as something bad, evil, it takes out the humanity of the situation and you can go about your day and not worry.
But actually trying to understand someone is where the true courage and strength are. Because you are totally overcoming your own hurt, betrayal, or whatever it is that they did to you to see the good they do for others. We all get hurt in a minor or major way in life. And people are generally the cause of it. But I can't sit here and say I've never hurt anyone before. I'm sure there are people out there who just see me as an evil spirited soulless thing. And that's okay. Because it is those people who will live life ignorant of what is really going on. I try to do good, as does everyone else. But we can't possibly make the entire world happy.
I just want everyone to realize the effect they have when they decide that they truly hate someone. You don't hate them. You may not like them because of something. But you don't hate them. You just don't want to understand them for whatever reason. Maybe you're scared, or embarrassed, or upset and you just want to be upset instead of wanting to be happy.
The world is not as black and white as everyone wants it to be. Trust me, things would be easier if it were. But we are in 2011. There are no demon children. There are no witches with only the intention to destroy. And people are all equal.
That's basically all I want to say. Shanksss
I think people find it easier to just see the world as black and white. People are either good or bad. It would definitely make it easier to hate someone if you could just simply think they were bad. Everyone wants a final answer, a definite response instead of being unsure of something or someone. I used to think it was maybe just a middle school thing, but then high school came along and then I thought it was a high school thing. And then I went abroad a met a whole different type of people and here I am in college and I see that it's everywhere. I would blame that mind set on immaturity. But it's not necessarily immature.
I just found myself thinking I didn't like someone because they did me wrong in the past. But then I have a memory of them doing a random kind act for someone. And then it hit me. Maybe I feel better just being able to have it said and done and out of the way to just think I don't like them. But I know this person may have done a wrong act. And they have probably done a few already and will do more in the future. But I also know that this person is a good person, a decent person, who tries to do good for the world.
So yes, it's quick and easy and simple to just not think about them as people. If you just think of this person as something bad, evil, it takes out the humanity of the situation and you can go about your day and not worry.
But actually trying to understand someone is where the true courage and strength are. Because you are totally overcoming your own hurt, betrayal, or whatever it is that they did to you to see the good they do for others. We all get hurt in a minor or major way in life. And people are generally the cause of it. But I can't sit here and say I've never hurt anyone before. I'm sure there are people out there who just see me as an evil spirited soulless thing. And that's okay. Because it is those people who will live life ignorant of what is really going on. I try to do good, as does everyone else. But we can't possibly make the entire world happy.
I just want everyone to realize the effect they have when they decide that they truly hate someone. You don't hate them. You may not like them because of something. But you don't hate them. You just don't want to understand them for whatever reason. Maybe you're scared, or embarrassed, or upset and you just want to be upset instead of wanting to be happy.
The world is not as black and white as everyone wants it to be. Trust me, things would be easier if it were. But we are in 2011. There are no demon children. There are no witches with only the intention to destroy. And people are all equal.
That's basically all I want to say. Shanksss
Saturday, November 5, 2011
GTL
GTL. G=Gym, T=Tan, L=Laundry.
Got it from Jersey Shore. Flipping awesome show.
Well my life doesn't really include tanning since I ain't got money for that. But anywhoo
So I sort of have forgotten about my blog. I haven't been like extremely busy, just absent-minded I suppose.
So I'm so sorry for leaving everyone (like the 3 people that read this) hanging like that.
Headaches lately have been on the downlow. My doctors figured it was me having a bad side effect to my new birth control( some people may think I might be getting to personal at this point but I have no shame and birth control is a way of life these days). So now I'm off the old birth control and waiting for all the hormones to clear out of my system so I can get rid of these damn headaches that could my life as I know it and then start something new and hopefully not as painful.
I've recently started this new thing that I hear people talk about called "working out". It's a weird concept and not something easily done but I've started to get the hang of it. Every night I go on the elliptical for about 25-45 minutes depending on how I've been feeling and then every other night I add the treadmill to it where I run for about a mile, sprint like 1/3 of a mile and then walk uphill for 5-10 minutes. I know that for the best work out, you're suppose to alternate days with cardio and strength but I just like running, so that is what I'm going to stick to. If I could I'd just do the treadmill everyday for like 5 miles, but it hurts my gosh dang stupid knees and the pansy elliptical is where I hang out.
I also have become a big sister for big brothers big sisters. Since my life has been pretty boring and uneventful, I looked for some volunteer programs. So now I'm a big sister and that only requires an hour of my time once a week and it's not so bad. To be honest I don't really feel like I'm doing much of volunteering, so I wouldn't mind something that sort of made more of a difference, but I'll settle for now.
I had a job interview for a pizza hut in the area. I sent in my resume, went in for a interview, talked for about 3 minutes in the interview and then left, and she said she'd call me back and she has not. Rejected. Sooooo I'm still unemployed. Living the life. Poor. Alone. Whatever. I'm stillll looking.
There still is not much excitement in my life to really blog about. School is okay. I'm in economics and I feel like I'm drowning and not really holding up but right before every exam I study my booty off and manage to get about a B. So that's not so bad. Math is still dumb, but it's getting harder and god know's I love me a challenge. I've realized that I'm too advanced for my French class. Well it's either that, or half the kids in that class scored a whole lot higher on their placement test than they really should have. I'm not trying to cocky, but it's just a fact. My level is higher than theirs, and I feel bad for my teacher.
I have this problem. I like to read. No, I LOVE to read. And I wish I could say I'm some sort of sophisticated intellectual who reads classics and biographies and books that really mean something. But I'm a total teenage girl. I like to read my fictional teen novels that usually have absurb unrealistic story lines, but maybe that's why I like it. It's my sad pathetic guilty pleasure. I got a library card for the local library so I can get all the totally girly and pathetic books I want. And I do. I have a stack of them that I read all of in about a week and return them only to find another stack waiting for me to pick up. It is THE life. I love it. The only problem however, other than the fact that I'm a total freak, is that I have books I need to read for my history class that just never sound as exciting as the books I want to read from my stack. So getting my reading prioritized is a big difficulty I'm currently facing.
And the last book we had to read was a book about Eva Peron and her message right before she died. I didn't read the entire thing because I will say this, Eva Peron was not one for public speaking. She doesn't have about any of the key qualities every politician should, which is probably why I can say she was not a very good person in the political world. She had one connection, her husband. And everything she knew about politics was something that her husband had told her. And she thought she was so right and righteous to do whatever she felt was the right thing. Don't get me wrong, their work for the lower class was amazing and generous. But in the book, all she talks about is how much in love she was with her husband (I don't doubt) and then she just keeps mentioning how there are so many bad guys in the world and so many bad people who were against her and her husband when they were doing nothing but good.
I just feel that when you're on your deathbed, the last thing you really feel like doing is lying some more. I just feel like it should be like, hey I'm dying, I don't get a flying fuck anymore, so I'm not going to sit here and defend myself and continue to cover-up my mistakes. But Evita was not like that. She wanted to be someone everyone remembered. She was trying to stay popular for the rest of eternity I suppose. I'm not saying it's bad or good, just not the direction I would have gone in.
Oh, for people who don't know much about Eva Peron, she was the wife of Juan Peron who was the president of Argentina around the 1950's. Eva was from a poor family and had tried to become an actress and then met this big old political guy named Juan and yada yada fell in love and then Eva basically put herself in a lot of political issues and didn't know all that much about what the issues were.
I think the things she did right were encouraging women rights and helping the poor. But I feel like she was bitter towards people who were in upper class just because they were in upper class.
Whatever enough about Evita.
Back to me working out. I've heard and learned before that it helps you feel like as tired or lazy when you work out more. But since I've started, all I want to do is sleep. I can never get up early. I'm sore. Tired. And just feel like sitting around more than before. I seriously am just one messed up person.
OH by the way. For halloween, I went home to Madison for Freakfest. I was Britney Spears of course. And I was afraid that in my red catsuit people would not know that I was Britney. But so many people did. I was so relieved and happy and it was freaking awesome. Best costume ever. Next year I'm going to be Britney from her VMA Slave 4 U performance with the snake. That is, assuming that running will get my body into shape so I can look hot and not like a nasty crust in that outfit. I got time though.
Okay so it's a beautiful Saturday and I'm going to go find a life. Or watch some more Chuck. Oh I have to mention that. I've been watching Chuck, this show, and I freaking love it. Maybe I'll just become a CIA secret spy. How freaking awesome would that be!? I'd work that job to the core.
okay now I must really leave
latess
Got it from Jersey Shore. Flipping awesome show.
Well my life doesn't really include tanning since I ain't got money for that. But anywhoo
So I sort of have forgotten about my blog. I haven't been like extremely busy, just absent-minded I suppose.
So I'm so sorry for leaving everyone (like the 3 people that read this) hanging like that.
Headaches lately have been on the downlow. My doctors figured it was me having a bad side effect to my new birth control( some people may think I might be getting to personal at this point but I have no shame and birth control is a way of life these days). So now I'm off the old birth control and waiting for all the hormones to clear out of my system so I can get rid of these damn headaches that could my life as I know it and then start something new and hopefully not as painful.
I've recently started this new thing that I hear people talk about called "working out". It's a weird concept and not something easily done but I've started to get the hang of it. Every night I go on the elliptical for about 25-45 minutes depending on how I've been feeling and then every other night I add the treadmill to it where I run for about a mile, sprint like 1/3 of a mile and then walk uphill for 5-10 minutes. I know that for the best work out, you're suppose to alternate days with cardio and strength but I just like running, so that is what I'm going to stick to. If I could I'd just do the treadmill everyday for like 5 miles, but it hurts my gosh dang stupid knees and the pansy elliptical is where I hang out.
I also have become a big sister for big brothers big sisters. Since my life has been pretty boring and uneventful, I looked for some volunteer programs. So now I'm a big sister and that only requires an hour of my time once a week and it's not so bad. To be honest I don't really feel like I'm doing much of volunteering, so I wouldn't mind something that sort of made more of a difference, but I'll settle for now.
I had a job interview for a pizza hut in the area. I sent in my resume, went in for a interview, talked for about 3 minutes in the interview and then left, and she said she'd call me back and she has not. Rejected. Sooooo I'm still unemployed. Living the life. Poor. Alone. Whatever. I'm stillll looking.
There still is not much excitement in my life to really blog about. School is okay. I'm in economics and I feel like I'm drowning and not really holding up but right before every exam I study my booty off and manage to get about a B. So that's not so bad. Math is still dumb, but it's getting harder and god know's I love me a challenge. I've realized that I'm too advanced for my French class. Well it's either that, or half the kids in that class scored a whole lot higher on their placement test than they really should have. I'm not trying to cocky, but it's just a fact. My level is higher than theirs, and I feel bad for my teacher.
I have this problem. I like to read. No, I LOVE to read. And I wish I could say I'm some sort of sophisticated intellectual who reads classics and biographies and books that really mean something. But I'm a total teenage girl. I like to read my fictional teen novels that usually have absurb unrealistic story lines, but maybe that's why I like it. It's my sad pathetic guilty pleasure. I got a library card for the local library so I can get all the totally girly and pathetic books I want. And I do. I have a stack of them that I read all of in about a week and return them only to find another stack waiting for me to pick up. It is THE life. I love it. The only problem however, other than the fact that I'm a total freak, is that I have books I need to read for my history class that just never sound as exciting as the books I want to read from my stack. So getting my reading prioritized is a big difficulty I'm currently facing.
And the last book we had to read was a book about Eva Peron and her message right before she died. I didn't read the entire thing because I will say this, Eva Peron was not one for public speaking. She doesn't have about any of the key qualities every politician should, which is probably why I can say she was not a very good person in the political world. She had one connection, her husband. And everything she knew about politics was something that her husband had told her. And she thought she was so right and righteous to do whatever she felt was the right thing. Don't get me wrong, their work for the lower class was amazing and generous. But in the book, all she talks about is how much in love she was with her husband (I don't doubt) and then she just keeps mentioning how there are so many bad guys in the world and so many bad people who were against her and her husband when they were doing nothing but good.
I just feel that when you're on your deathbed, the last thing you really feel like doing is lying some more. I just feel like it should be like, hey I'm dying, I don't get a flying fuck anymore, so I'm not going to sit here and defend myself and continue to cover-up my mistakes. But Evita was not like that. She wanted to be someone everyone remembered. She was trying to stay popular for the rest of eternity I suppose. I'm not saying it's bad or good, just not the direction I would have gone in.
Oh, for people who don't know much about Eva Peron, she was the wife of Juan Peron who was the president of Argentina around the 1950's. Eva was from a poor family and had tried to become an actress and then met this big old political guy named Juan and yada yada fell in love and then Eva basically put herself in a lot of political issues and didn't know all that much about what the issues were.
I think the things she did right were encouraging women rights and helping the poor. But I feel like she was bitter towards people who were in upper class just because they were in upper class.
Whatever enough about Evita.
Back to me working out. I've heard and learned before that it helps you feel like as tired or lazy when you work out more. But since I've started, all I want to do is sleep. I can never get up early. I'm sore. Tired. And just feel like sitting around more than before. I seriously am just one messed up person.
OH by the way. For halloween, I went home to Madison for Freakfest. I was Britney Spears of course. And I was afraid that in my red catsuit people would not know that I was Britney. But so many people did. I was so relieved and happy and it was freaking awesome. Best costume ever. Next year I'm going to be Britney from her VMA Slave 4 U performance with the snake. That is, assuming that running will get my body into shape so I can look hot and not like a nasty crust in that outfit. I got time though.
Okay so it's a beautiful Saturday and I'm going to go find a life. Or watch some more Chuck. Oh I have to mention that. I've been watching Chuck, this show, and I freaking love it. Maybe I'll just become a CIA secret spy. How freaking awesome would that be!? I'd work that job to the core.
okay now I must really leave
latess
Monday, October 10, 2011
OUCH!
So the cold has been long gone for about 2 1/2 weeks now. I no longer rely on my Dayquil for daily survival. I can sleep without my NyQuil as well.
But now, my lovely cold has left me with the world's longest and most excruciating headache ever. It hasn't left me for the past 2 weeks and I'm literally dying!
If you know me, then you know how high my pain tolerance is. I thank soccer for that. I tore my ACL without any tears. I dislocated my kneecap without crying. I never had a moment of weakness during my whole swollen cheeks for four weeks and having to work after getting my wisdom teeth out. (I do admit that after I tore my ACL I was put on some weird meds that may have made me a little sappy and I believe my little sister was there to witness my meltdown, but I only took those meds once and never again)
Anyways, I never get headaches. Never. Well...rarely. Maybe about twice a year and it'll last for about 5 minutes and then I forget about it.
I also never take pain meds. I hate taking medicine in the first place. But lately I've sort of been having relationships with multiple different meds. Ever since I start Nuvaring, I've been getting kill-my-uterus cramps, gun-to-my-head headaches, and recently added to my list would be muscle fatigue and shaky hands.
So I've been spending all my free time laying in bed, on the break of tears, ready to just die.
I know I'm being a little insensitive to the subject of death in this blog, so I apologize.
Anyways, I went to the UWM health center today. I got some meds. The doctor told me he was giving me something like Tylenol. I told him that I have difficulty in swallowing pills and I basically just stick to my ibuprofen since it's pretty tiny. So he gave me tinier tylenols and said to try them and they have Codine 3 or something I don't it's doctor talk which doesn't make much sense to me. And then he gave me some muscle relaxers. Already took some of the headache stuff and 2 hours later it ain't working. Fuck. My. Life.
It's like a never ending nightmare. I just need some hardcore medication for this. Maybe some Vicodin. Or Oxycontin. I'll be drugged in my classes but I don't care. At this point I'm getting desperate. So I need to workout, I need to grocery shop, I need to study, I need to go shopping. But I can't do any of that because when I move, I feel the need to crawl into a ball and scream. And I'm running out of things to do too just sitting around in my room.
Well this is my blog I suppose. To update everyone on the deceased cold and the now up and springing and ready to kick my butt headache that never leaves. This relationship is suffocating me.
I'm going to go pop another pill and pray to Britney that I'm put out of my misery.
Peace. Love. Oxycontin.
But now, my lovely cold has left me with the world's longest and most excruciating headache ever. It hasn't left me for the past 2 weeks and I'm literally dying!
If you know me, then you know how high my pain tolerance is. I thank soccer for that. I tore my ACL without any tears. I dislocated my kneecap without crying. I never had a moment of weakness during my whole swollen cheeks for four weeks and having to work after getting my wisdom teeth out. (I do admit that after I tore my ACL I was put on some weird meds that may have made me a little sappy and I believe my little sister was there to witness my meltdown, but I only took those meds once and never again)
Anyways, I never get headaches. Never. Well...rarely. Maybe about twice a year and it'll last for about 5 minutes and then I forget about it.
I also never take pain meds. I hate taking medicine in the first place. But lately I've sort of been having relationships with multiple different meds. Ever since I start Nuvaring, I've been getting kill-my-uterus cramps, gun-to-my-head headaches, and recently added to my list would be muscle fatigue and shaky hands.
So I've been spending all my free time laying in bed, on the break of tears, ready to just die.
I know I'm being a little insensitive to the subject of death in this blog, so I apologize.
Anyways, I went to the UWM health center today. I got some meds. The doctor told me he was giving me something like Tylenol. I told him that I have difficulty in swallowing pills and I basically just stick to my ibuprofen since it's pretty tiny. So he gave me tinier tylenols and said to try them and they have Codine 3 or something I don't it's doctor talk which doesn't make much sense to me. And then he gave me some muscle relaxers. Already took some of the headache stuff and 2 hours later it ain't working. Fuck. My. Life.
It's like a never ending nightmare. I just need some hardcore medication for this. Maybe some Vicodin. Or Oxycontin. I'll be drugged in my classes but I don't care. At this point I'm getting desperate. So I need to workout, I need to grocery shop, I need to study, I need to go shopping. But I can't do any of that because when I move, I feel the need to crawl into a ball and scream. And I'm running out of things to do too just sitting around in my room.
Well this is my blog I suppose. To update everyone on the deceased cold and the now up and springing and ready to kick my butt headache that never leaves. This relationship is suffocating me.
I'm going to go pop another pill and pray to Britney that I'm put out of my misery.
Peace. Love. Oxycontin.
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Sickity Sick Sick
Take a wild guess what this blog is about!
Guess what? I'm sick! No fever or barfing, ew no thanks.
Thank you baby Jesus it's just a cold. How embarrassing would it be to barf in class! Oh my god.
Anywho, I have the cold. I knew it the second I woke up. I had that dry, muffly, phlemy feeling in my throat where you just don't feel good and water and cough drops won't fix it. It all started when I fell asleep with my window open. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE having my window open. I like to sleep when it's cold/ breezy. But those Croatian superstitions came back to bite me in the butt. They always told me that sleeping with my window open will make me sick.
Goodness I know how ridiculous that is. I looked it up to just to make sure I wasn't going crazy and sure enough, cold air will not give me a virus or anything. Being cold can lower the immune system making it harder to fight off bacteria and what not, but it won't be the thing that gives me a cold.
But I'm sick. And it's just dandy candy...except that I have an econ exam tomorrow...
Today I went to my early ass class at 8 (history, that's why I bother to wake up). God, I love that class of course, but today was so harsh. I knew from the second I woke up, like I said, that i was sick. So I made a warm drink, took some asprin, and hoped that'd be enough.
Now I get colds a lot. I'm used to it. But they are generally minor. Just a headache with a cough and stuffy nose. But this is bad.
So I'm in class sipping my coffee taking some notes and then I start staring at some random person's foot or something. And BAM! The next thing I know it's 45 minutes later and I'm still staring at the foot without the tiniest clue of what I was just thinking about or what was happening in class. My brain was so foggy I couldn't comprehend anything. I literally felt like I was in a dream or something.
And after class ended, a guy sitting near me was about to leave without a book that he had forgotten on the floor or something and so I, on auto pilot and clueless, pick it up and hand it to him and say "is this your book". Actually I did not say it...I pretty much yelled it. I had no idea how loud I was talking until I heard myself echo and everyone turn to look at me. And I didn't exactly ask him politely either. I didn't mean to. I seriously felt like I had little control over a lot of what I was doing. So I walked back to my dorm and napped until my next class. Which was French, and I was feeling a lot better and I handled it better.
After all my classes, I walked to Walgreens (about 4-5 blocks) bought myself some vegetable soup, NyQuil, DayQuil and some good old vitamin C juice. It started raining on my way back :( probably didn't make anything any better.
But I got back, ate some soup, chugged my NyQuil (which happens to have 10% alcohol in it...PARTY!) and crashed. Also I noticed on my NyQuil there's a tiny little ad on the upper right hand corner that says" parents: learn more about teen medicine abuse". OMG!
What are kids doing these days?! Are they so desperate for a little tipsy slut attention that they buy and chug bottles of NyQuil.
Now I'll tell you something, and I'm being honest. While in Europe, I may have flirted with a few alcoholic beverages. The straight up stuff ain't exactly like chocolate. But I got it down and moved on. But cold medicine...I mean...ew. It's thick and tastes terrible. And you can feel the stuff they put in it to open up your sinuses and the taste just lingers. No amount of any chaser really wipes that away.
But hey, if teens are really that desperate...I think they got enough issues going on in their life that make me think hey, why not chug a bottle of ny/dayquil. At least they won't get sick.
Anyways it was a big deal that I get better today for my econ exam tomorrow that is gonna kill me. But I've studied my butt off and sometimes that all you can do and just pray to the almighty Britney that you won't fail and get kicked out of college.
Also I talked to my lovely mother today and she helped me with my cold. Even when I'm an hour and a half away, she still manages to take care of me when I'm sick. Shanks meerm.
And also, while studying my econ book, I came upon a chapter with an example of opportunity costs based on a girl named Emma and how much money she would have to spend on all the books she read.
It knows me! We have a connection. Of course I took a picture of it and instantly sent it to my little sister. I mean it's freaking freaky!
I just took some Nyquil and I've been waiting for the effects to hit me like a train and put me out of my misery and it's starting to wash over me. Tonight, my window is closed. I have cold medicine in my system. I have greasy hair on my head. And warm clothes on my body. Tomorrow better be a golly gee damn good day.
may the force be with you
Guess what? I'm sick! No fever or barfing, ew no thanks.
Thank you baby Jesus it's just a cold. How embarrassing would it be to barf in class! Oh my god.
Anywho, I have the cold. I knew it the second I woke up. I had that dry, muffly, phlemy feeling in my throat where you just don't feel good and water and cough drops won't fix it. It all started when I fell asleep with my window open. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE having my window open. I like to sleep when it's cold/ breezy. But those Croatian superstitions came back to bite me in the butt. They always told me that sleeping with my window open will make me sick.
Goodness I know how ridiculous that is. I looked it up to just to make sure I wasn't going crazy and sure enough, cold air will not give me a virus or anything. Being cold can lower the immune system making it harder to fight off bacteria and what not, but it won't be the thing that gives me a cold.
But I'm sick. And it's just dandy candy...except that I have an econ exam tomorrow...
Today I went to my early ass class at 8 (history, that's why I bother to wake up). God, I love that class of course, but today was so harsh. I knew from the second I woke up, like I said, that i was sick. So I made a warm drink, took some asprin, and hoped that'd be enough.
Now I get colds a lot. I'm used to it. But they are generally minor. Just a headache with a cough and stuffy nose. But this is bad.
So I'm in class sipping my coffee taking some notes and then I start staring at some random person's foot or something. And BAM! The next thing I know it's 45 minutes later and I'm still staring at the foot without the tiniest clue of what I was just thinking about or what was happening in class. My brain was so foggy I couldn't comprehend anything. I literally felt like I was in a dream or something.
And after class ended, a guy sitting near me was about to leave without a book that he had forgotten on the floor or something and so I, on auto pilot and clueless, pick it up and hand it to him and say "is this your book". Actually I did not say it...I pretty much yelled it. I had no idea how loud I was talking until I heard myself echo and everyone turn to look at me. And I didn't exactly ask him politely either. I didn't mean to. I seriously felt like I had little control over a lot of what I was doing. So I walked back to my dorm and napped until my next class. Which was French, and I was feeling a lot better and I handled it better.
After all my classes, I walked to Walgreens (about 4-5 blocks) bought myself some vegetable soup, NyQuil, DayQuil and some good old vitamin C juice. It started raining on my way back :( probably didn't make anything any better.
But I got back, ate some soup, chugged my NyQuil (which happens to have 10% alcohol in it...PARTY!) and crashed. Also I noticed on my NyQuil there's a tiny little ad on the upper right hand corner that says" parents: learn more about teen medicine abuse". OMG!
What are kids doing these days?! Are they so desperate for a little tipsy slut attention that they buy and chug bottles of NyQuil.
Now I'll tell you something, and I'm being honest. While in Europe, I may have flirted with a few alcoholic beverages. The straight up stuff ain't exactly like chocolate. But I got it down and moved on. But cold medicine...I mean...ew. It's thick and tastes terrible. And you can feel the stuff they put in it to open up your sinuses and the taste just lingers. No amount of any chaser really wipes that away.
But hey, if teens are really that desperate...I think they got enough issues going on in their life that make me think hey, why not chug a bottle of ny/dayquil. At least they won't get sick.
Anyways it was a big deal that I get better today for my econ exam tomorrow that is gonna kill me. But I've studied my butt off and sometimes that all you can do and just pray to the almighty Britney that you won't fail and get kicked out of college.
Also I talked to my lovely mother today and she helped me with my cold. Even when I'm an hour and a half away, she still manages to take care of me when I'm sick. Shanks meerm.
And also, while studying my econ book, I came upon a chapter with an example of opportunity costs based on a girl named Emma and how much money she would have to spend on all the books she read.
It knows me! We have a connection. Of course I took a picture of it and instantly sent it to my little sister. I mean it's freaking freaky!
I just took some Nyquil and I've been waiting for the effects to hit me like a train and put me out of my misery and it's starting to wash over me. Tonight, my window is closed. I have cold medicine in my system. I have greasy hair on my head. And warm clothes on my body. Tomorrow better be a golly gee damn good day.
may the force be with you
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