Almost Ready

I'm almost ready for college to start. Almost ready doesn't mean I'm not completely terrified though.

I received a federal pell grant for 5000 dollars, roughly 1700 dollars to spend each term.

I took the college placement test and placed into Critical Reading, English Composition and Beginning Algebra (eligible for a retake since I did so poorly on that portion).

I waited an hour and a half to meet for ten minutes with an adviser.

I registered for the following classes:
General Biology I: Survey of Cellular Biology
Psychology of Human Relations
Western Civilization: Modern Europe
Beginning Weight Lifting

Next step is to buy my textbooks and supplies. Wow, am I really this far? It's hard to accept the fact that I'm not still a high school senior.

My Newest Disease Is A Yeast Infection

Let's face it: I'm in love.

I realized that there is a difference from loving someone and being in love with someone. Within the being in love category are several levels of intensity. I'm discovering them all for myself.

Do you know what's even better than feeling in love? Knowing the feeling is returned. I don't care to look back on my previous relationships and obsessions because the common factor in many of them was simply that the feeling was not mutual.

Yet, here I am, almost six months with a guy I never expected to give me a second glance! A guy I've never been in a fight with. A guy who is my complete opposite: extroverted, outgoing, calm, optimistic easy going. I'm the girl who is wrapped up in her shell in front of strangers and constantly bickering with my friends, always expecting the worse.

Somehow, I'm with Alex, who calms me, gives me advice when I'm having trouble reaching a decision, tells me I'm beautiful (even the little lump on my neck), and listens to me talk and rant. He lets me have his old beanie hat and wear his boxers. He even let me throw him a dinosaur party while wearing a strapless dress and fell asleep with me on a couch barely big enough for one person, let alone two.

So yes, I love Alex. I really really do.

Never Knew How Hard It Is To Be A CIT

I wrote this last night. For now I'm off to bed planning to continue my new trend of waking up at 8 in the morning.


Here i am at the last night of camp. Its been my first time in a leadership position outside of my church and babysitting and I am surprised at how difficult it has been. Even though I've been splitting the responsibility of being a counselor, managing eight girls aged nine to twelve, is no easy task. I had forgotten how sensitive girls can be and how much time it takes to move a group from point A to point B. I'm shocked at how tired I am and how difficult it is to be responsible from the time I wake up to bedtime every day. So far, there weren't any bathroom breaks in the middle of the night, so at least I have my sleep to myself. The girls are beautiful and clever, though trying at times. They have fights, get sick and are picky eaters. Overall, it's been a good experience and i probably will go back as a counselor instead of a CIT (training), but for now I cant wait to get the camp songs out of my head.

I Have a New Cell Phone. Cross Your Fingers I Don't Break It.

Rule Number 57

Don't even try to screw with me over text message. I know.

I mess with girls and guys. I use their words and text the right length. I can convince you I am your friend. Or a different version of me. Or my favorite character, Lindsay. No guy can resist Lindsay. We've proven that.

So when people do try to mess with me, I catch on quickly. Next step is to figure out their motive. What do they want? Information? Do they like me?

It's always something. People can be so dumb sometimes.

Good Girls Go

Maybe Kalysta is right. Maybe I have changed a lot.

The constant lying. ******** kicks my butt.

I'm wild but I hate drugs. When I meet 40 year old men in big coats who are willing to talk to the teenagers sitting on the curb and share a cigarette, I'm not impressed. Coke, h, meth, oxy, molly, weed, pcp, shrooms, lsd. homeless, broke, out of jail, divorced. not impressed.

The plotting. The schemes. Purposely destroying every girl who looks at our boyfriends wrong. Maybe it would be easier to just leave the guys but we make those girls pay. It's morally wrong on so many different levels but the little whores deserve it. It's almost like a show. Grab some pop corn and watch us teaR them apart from the inside out.

The speeding. The loitering. The sneaking.

No longer believing stories. The baby she had that died in a car accident. Yeah, I'm sure your little body was once nine months pregnant. The heroin addict crying about her money being stolen. I wouldn't hate them so much if they didn't want my Alexx.

Whatever. We can move out next year. It'll be better then. Everything will be easier. Maybe I've moved beyond Kalysta but I'm not about to turn and walk away now. Once you're in you're gone.

Body of Prisoners

I’m 18 years old living in the land of the free, yet attaining true freedom I should be entitled to seems completely unrealistic. As in never going to happen. No matter what there always seems to be some sort of barrier that holds me down under.

Even after we venture out on our own, uncontrolled by our parents, our own bodies betray us, exerting a parental like force on us.

Basically, our bodies are like parents.

If you eat too much junk food, you get sick. If you stay up to late partying, you get sick. You skip your sunscreen, you get cancer. You drink alcohol, you get liver failure.

We aren’t unlucky all of the time, but our bodies will never fully let us escape what our parents used to (and still are) telling us.

Why do I say this? I feel sick. Is it my fault? Probably. Have I been listening to my parents? Definitely not. Will I be stupid enough to continue this? Yes.

Heros and Gods Can't Save Your Feelings

From the first day I opened a myspace account, I knew I had a problem. I don’t have a hero. Up until that point I didn’t realize that maybe I should have one. I was religious but I never got into the worshiping God scene, respected and admired my parents but my love had its limits.

I’ve come to realize though, what makes me admire a person is their strength. However, it’s not a person’s physical capacity that wins me over but their mental stamina. More specifically, it is their challenging experiences and emotions that I can identify with in some way. Through this I’ve come to realize that the character I idolize the most is Meredith Grey off of Grey’s Anatomy.

I love Meredith for many many reasons. She’s had an awful life; her mother was an amazing surgeon but didn’t have time to be her mother and her father left when she was very little. She’s insecure, doesn’t trust men and is attempting to find herself as a surgeon in a competitive field.

In terms of a hero, she’s the opposite. She tries to drown herself. She unknowingly becomes Derricks’ mistress. She drinks, a lot. She isn’t a feminine, she doesn’t like parties or celebration. Commitment scares her.

Yet, through all her pain and suffering, she has Derrick. If I could find a real person who had half of the qualities he has, it would be a miracle. And eventually, she grows up. Eventually she fixes the brokenness inside her.

That’s her redeeming quality. She fixes the brokenness.

I wonder some days, if I will ever be able to fix my own brokenness. After seeing Alex’s text message, I panicked. I felt all the emotions of worthlessness that I had struggled with last year resurface. I unburied those feelings and applied them to my current relationship, even though they were entirely unrelated.

That’s what scares me. Maybe I’m not all better. Maybe I just pushed everything away, out of sight out of mind. Maybe I am still broken. Maybe I’ll always be broken. Maybe I won’t let go of a relationship that I shouldn’t be in because I’m scared to be alone. Maybe I’ll deny the facts and the truth so I won’t ever have to leave him.

Or maybe I’ll find a way to keep growing. And some day, maybe I’ll fix my brokenness too. Just like Meredith.

Everything Is Memorized It Seems

I used to be love drunk
But now I’m hungover
I’ll love you forever
Forever is over
We used to kiss all night
Now its just a bar fight
So don’t call me crying
Say hello to goodbye

I don't understand why it's so hard for guys not to cheat. And it's pretty sad if they leave the evidence behind in your own phone.
When my inbox and outbox are full, sent messages are sent to the drafts folder. I guess he didn't know that.

I can't stay with him. He'll never stop seeking out other girls over the internet and in person. I don't want to end up with a person like my mother. I expect that I should receive the respect that I would give.

I don't control who he hangs out with. But asking a girl if he can spend the night at her house? Not okay. ever.