...when you get them met, you don't need them anymore.

I woke up this morning after a pretty great night of friends, a couple of pints and some interesting takes on diner food. The Trolley, a local haunt that you've most likely heard me gripe about, was reasonably quiet, if not filled with middle aged men on the make. Seven of us, many pints of Blue Moon, one Shirley Temple and a Long Island later, my friend Jess and I separated from the pack to try tackling that age old need: food after midnight. On a campus that would not be difficult, especially the U of I's famed "open after the bars" pizza places, but in New Jersey that proves a challenge.

In and out of one packed/bar restaurant and off to a diner off Rt. 22 that supplied us with...jalepeno poppers, southwest eggrolls and buffalo chicken tenders. Those from out of Jersey are probably going "wtf?!" but I promise you, it was delicious.

It wasn't just the food that was awesome, it was conversation and having the focus not be on men, jobs or futures. Just honest conversation about films, wikipedia, traveling, friendships and overall, nothing to stress me out.

I didn't need to focus on how I didn't have a job yet (even though I don't graduate for 4 months), or how I'm single without prospects, or how people from high school seem to forget my existence (which after many repetitive complaints I realize is probably a good thing)...it was all quite simplistic.

And it was nice going into NYC and not having to worry about being on time, because life is flexible. And seeing Lyzzie and hearing about her Israel experiences...it has prompted me into possibly finding a way to teach English abroad, though I feel I'd probably be lost in a different country, alone. Maybe that's what I need...but my needs have mostly been met and I'm happy for now.

In a week I head back to school...am I ready for that?

...I get myself all geared up to write an entry about my boredom, and I suddenly find myself entertained by AIM, deviantart and my books.

I read a whole novel in one day; this might help explain the lack of things to do in Jersey without a car. Not that I mind, dears, but sometimes sitting down for 5 hours to read a 300 plus page novel can become a bit dull, despite the sparkling plotline and witicims of the characters. Bedsores, for one, or lack of desire to get up...at all...for anything. I did manage to eat half a container of almond bark...even when writing this I find myself feeling nauseated by the thought...ew.

Novels feed my soul, and as I do every break, I try my damndest to push the number of books I read up to around 20 in 4 weeks. The daunting task only foils itself if I'm working, and as this break has proved fruitless in that arena, I continue to read with a vigor I hope to possess well into my old age.

In other news, I discovered that I actually DID download a song from "Juno" by accident. The Moldy Peaches, of "Who's Got the Crack" fame, sing this cute song called "Anyone Else But You" from the film. It's sort of hilarious, in a random way, similar to the way Gym Class Heroes makes little jabs and puns in their songs, but much more along the lines of folk music than the pop/rap/punk variety of GCH.

In other other news, I've made a few more personal discoveries in my musings and have decided to keep them to myself for once. This journal has gotten me knee deep in shit numerous times and hopefully by shutting my yapper (as I am wont to do), others will be less inclined to blast me with comments of the not-so-friendly variety.

I'll be around the rest of the week.

I stopped importing notes into facebook only b/c I realized that they're really ridiculous and that anyone who really wants to read what I have to say will find my livejournal and do justice to my opinions.

In any case, I was bored and found a couple of survey things to amuse myself with:

 
and now another:


Sorry for all the cuts, long morning!

It's come to that point in my life where I need to realize a few things.

One:

Meghana insists that I need to relax, because way too many things make me anxious or upset. "Go with the flow," she says, and I attempt to do that, but there's something inside me that just isn't ready to admit that being myself is okay.

Two:

Natalie tells me that I need to stop generalizing myself, especially because I'm a lot more interesting and beautiful than I make myself out to be. People see confidence and if I want to be noticed I should be a bit more sure of my assets.

Three:

My mother says if I want to do something with myself, I will find a way. If I really want to do something, I will, but lately that hasn't been the case. I find myself to be more stressed out at home because I'm under that pressure to see everyone before I head back to IL. Some friends feel let down when I disappear after a few hours to hang with another group of friends. Perhaps I should work on thinking of myself for once.

Four:

I WILL get a job, I just need to stop saying I won't. There are places all over the country that are hiring women who have LAS degrees and type 90 words a minute. Oddly enough, I would be happy as an editorial assistant. Menial work really does it for me, I don't know why.

Five:

The caffeine seriously isn't necessary.

All these things are rolled into one big bundle of nerves I have about graduating and sort of "finding myself". In those cliched terms, I've decided to do a total revamp this last semester. I will assert myself, be more upbeat, try not to get so frustrated about things I cannot change, drink less, speak my mind more and focus on my 6 (!!) classes.

Hopefully by the end of it all I'll be a more balanced person.

Wish me luck!

Last night solidified my desire to move to the Midwest after graduation. I love New Jersey, I love the East coast, but what I do not love paticularly are the HS peers I run into at what seems to be THE ONLY DAMN BAR THIS SIDE OF THE MISSISSIPPI. It was not one of my favorite experiences, being as I'm used to fast service from girls in low cut tops and men in shirts and ties attempting to earn a buck by being flirty and adorable, rather than the fact that I almost didn't have to pay for my Blue Moon because the bartender never came back. They had ONE GIRL working a VERY CROWDED BAR and I felt horrible for her. The other downside to being in a local bar, besides the "flavor" and the slow service, is that unlike Champaign bars (ha, that's hilarious), Westfield's ONLY bar plays what it's clients want to hear...and that is a bunch of old, and I mean OLD live albums. While I will admit that I am a fan of the older music, what I am not a fan of is anything "live". To me, the quality is crap and it's reminiscent of my junior year where the asshole next door would BLAST his live albums into my room, into the next apartment and down the hall. Since then, I have closed my heart off to any live album and I dare someone to change my mind.

The enjoyment from last night came from watching all these people get absolutely pissed (drunk). I was DD, so my experience extended to a pint or two of blue moon over quite a long period of time (3 hours seemed longer than usual). Meghana got hit on by some old kid we went to elementary school with and every SINGLE one of the people that came up to our little group had completely forgotten who I was. This angered me slightly, but then I remembered how even in HS I was trying to get out: I hung out with people from different towns, I dated people from other towns, I hardly EVER hung out in Westfield...it just seemed pointless when at some point in time I'd be leaving and (hopefully) not coming back.

My favorite part of the night was when another fellow WHS graduate asked us where we went to school (like he really gives a shit) and we told him. When it came to my turn he goes "oh yeah, that's far. Chillin' out in the fields"...and of course my witty remark was "yeah, another field", but I couldn't say it because Ren wasn't there to laugh, the bar was too loud, and my compatriots too far away to hear. I fear that my punniness would be LOST in this world, where the Sarah's don't laugh at my ridiculousness, where the boys are too far away to hug and it's just...ridiculous.

So, if anyone has a job available in Chicago and needs a roomie, I'm your girl.

Since I'm home, tomorrow (technically today) is Christmas Eve and I most definitely have nothing planned, I've decided to delight you all with a survey...I know you all wait forever to read these, so here we go:

1. Are you in a complicated relationship?
If you mean my relationship with myself, than yes.

2. Is anyone in love with you?
I highly doubt anyone is TRULY in love with me.

3. Where is your second home?
...Sigma Nu probably, but I guess U of I is my second home?

5.Who's the last person who hugged you?
My mom

6. Who's the last person you slept in a bed with?
Theo, my kitty cat

7. What did you do 3 nights ago?
Sarah's Christmas Party/Christmas Shopping/ Watched Halloween the Unrated directors cut with Matt

8. Ever call somebody boo?
Um, no. Not unless I was trying to scare them.

9. Are you happy with your life right now?
Happy enough

10. Do you like your hair?
If it were longer and I looked less like a 15 yr old boy

11. Does anyone have a crush on you?
I don't believe in crushes, and I'd like to say no to that too.

12. What were you doing in May of 1994?
I was in 2nd grade

14. McDonalds or Wendys?
Wendys for food, Mickey D's for iced coffee

14. Have you ever broken someones heart?
I believe I have, though it was never intentional

15. Do you text message often?
I enjoy texting, though I prefer voice on voice action

16. Do you have any scars?
Tons. I was clumsy, they're all up and down my legs.

17. Who was the last person you said I love you to?
My mom, my brothers, my dad, my friends, my cat

18. Who was the last person that made you laugh?
Pooja, oh dear goodness.

19. Who was the last person that texted you?
Kaitlin V

20. Who was the last person that called you?
Meghana!

22.What are your initials?
KAL

23. What is your favorite thing to wear?
Exotic flats and crazy earrings

24. Have you ever been to Europe?
England and Scotland, but in all honesty I don't consider that Europe, persay

25. Baseball or Football?
Baseball, I like to play it

26. Favorite type of food?
Mexican or Indian

28. How is the weather right now?
Gross, actually. It was 60 up until now...I think it's in the 40's

29. What are you listening to right now?
Jameson watching TV downstairs

30. What is your current favorite song?
Bleeding Love by Leona Lewis or the Water by Feist...I have lots. I also enjoy Broken Social Scene...which is also Feist, technically.

31. Where was the last place you went besides your house?
Meghana's

32. What's one thing you've learned this year?
You can't love someone until you love yourself.

33. Does a hug make you feel better?
Yes.

35. How long ago did you hug someone?
A few hours ago.

36. Do you like ice cream?
I definitely do. Solves many of life's problems.

37. When was the last time you went to the mall?
Today. What a zoo, I'm an idiot...

38. What are you doing tomorrow?
Eating dinner with my family and making cocktails.

39. Have you ever given money to a homeless person?
Nope.

41. Do you like someone?
Yes, I do. What's the point, though?

42. Do they know you like them?
Now they do...

43. Whats your middle name?
.Adele

44. Where's your favorite place to be in the summer?
In my backyard. Or at the beach at dusk. or in the city...*sigh*

45. Whats your profile song?
If by profile song you mean a myspace thing, I have playlists for that.

46. How do you feel about your life right now?
Life is usually made up of two things for me: great sorrow or great happiness...I'm leaning on the spectrum towards the latter.

48. Are you scared of snakes?
Nah, not really.

49. What was your last hug for?
Just because I believe a hug is the world's best cure for sadness...and a great stress reliever.

50. Who was the last person you called?
I truly don't know, oh! My mom, to find out which rum to get...

Happy Holidays!

I've been trying to type an entry into LJ about being home for 3 days. Perhaps the holiday season is a less than adequate time to sit on my butt...maybe afterwards I'll be less inclined to run around and see friends/shop/wrap presents/bake cookies/sleep.

It's nice to be home: I can sleep until whenever I want, my mom cooks dinner that's much more nutritious and tasty than something I might make, I don't feel the pressure to drink or be social and I can read all I want. That's the beauty of being home...now I have plenty of time to read all those novels I left at home in August so I wouldn't have to cart them to Champaign.

Christmas Eve is tomorrow and I feel absolutely no pressure, I even get to pick the Christmas cocktail. I will admit that it makes me feel like a little girl picking out the ornaments for the tree, or the cookies for Santa. Sure, the holidays don't affect me in any other way besides "godDAMNit, WHY did that JERK have to CUT ME OFF, ARGGG!!" in the Target parking lot, on the GSP and pretty much every side street in Westfield. Sometimes I find myself wandering around town, going "gah, why are you people all downtown NOW, why in hell didn't you do this earlier?", then realize that I'm the same way. Better not to judge.

I once had someone  I was close to tell me I was too judgmental, that I preferred to put other people down than acknowledge my own flaws. What he failed to realize, in fact, was that I knew my flaws; I had so many that listing them would seem pointless and by voicing my opinion on others I was generally voicing how I felt about my own personality traits. As someone who corrects mistakes, I find enough in my own that sometimes I just need a big red pen to cross them out. With most works of art, flaws improve a piece, make it seems less pompous, more beautiful; sometimes it just takes a clever eye to see beyond them.

I talk about how alone I am, and I know that loneliness can extend beyond the boundaries of friendship and kindness. I love the holidays, for at the holidays you can forgive someone their flaws or eccentricities...so Happy Holidays, everybody.

Last year I wrote an entry in LJ roughly around the same time that finals had started:

My name is Kaitlin Adele. I'm completely and utterly stressed out by finals. This morning, I dropped 5 things in five minutes. I enjoy many, many cups of coffee before 8am exams and a Starbucks hot chocolate afterwards with the money from book buyback. I do not enjoy losing my syllabus for ENGL 210 right before my exam. I also dislike having to mail things, because I have these letters just SITTING HERE ON THIS TABLE and my netflix is late. I hate that my teacher wanted to make me write my intro over: she did not have to accuse me of having someone else write it. I do not like the blemishes that appear when I'm uber stressed, but I do enjoy peach-raspberry iced tea and watching Scrubs rather than studying. In my spare time (WHAT SPARE TIME?!?!?!) I like to draw or write in my journal. I can't wait to go home because a.) I like airports slash airplanes and b.) because my family kicks @$$ and so does Jersey :-D.

This year it goes something more like this:

My name is (still) Kaitlin Adele. Finals really aren't stressing me out too much, by my social life is. I spend far too much time outside my apartment than inside and I still haven't finished my 10 page AIS paper. Instead, I've read almost an entire novel that has nothing to do with my Oral Traditions final tomorrow and cleaned my room. I've also: made french fries, eggs and hash browns, taken a shower, answered 16 IDs out of 82 and finally discovered who Albert Lord was. I've had 2 incredible AIM conversations that had nothing to do with finals, relationships or sex. My cat thinks I'm a chew toy, I have a blemish the size of Texas on my face and a massive (and by massive, I mean absolutely huge) cup of coffee sitting on my bookshelf. I'm using my bed as a desk and my desk as a storage unit and I only have three books for book buyback, which means I will be making about 20 bucks to help my caffeine riddled ass pass exams. I almost killed myself coming downstairs this morning and the only thing I have that's edible in my fridge is a massive pot of pseudo chili and cookie dough.

And I have a week before I can leave to go home, because god forbid my teacher decides to give us an exam on the last day of class rather than the VERY LAST DAY OF FINALS.

Ah, the joy of finality.

As I sit on my bed, furiously typing a paper due in 2 hours (that I completely forgot about in my frostbitten induced coma from last night's snowball fight), I realized that writing papers has come much too easily for me. Bullshitting has become the college students get out of jail (or expulsion) free card. In high school, I did the last minute paper writing of the night before, but my work had come off significantly more refined. Now, post-paper furry, I've come to the conclusion that writing a paper has nothing to do with how well it's formed but with how well you think your form might rate with your professor...and that depresses me quite a bit. I've lost a bit of my integrity by forcing myself to write the way someone else wants me to. Where, oh where did my independent thought go?

All of this was decided after watching my cat attempt to chase ceiling squirrels by inching slowly towards the door, like he thinks nobody can see him. Sometimes I wonder if that's just cat instincts or stupidity. Now he's settled somewhere in my closet.

All in all, this week should be a mess of me forgetting finals things as I try and attempt to clean the Bermuda Triange that is my room (no really, it's a triangle. If we were in Bermuda it would work. I guess it's more of a lofted triangle...but I digress), pack Theo up for his first plane ride and make the required (but not undesired) family ping pong experience.

For those of you unfamiliar with my situation, I am what we call a "rogue family member". I am on the run from NJ and as such have found myself in a place wherein almost ALL of my relatives live. While I absolutely adore my extended family, they, for some reason, all desire a visit from me at the exact same time as the others. This makes for quite a lot of driving on my part and is reminiscent of the Great Illinois Escapades circa 1994-2002 wherein my mother and I spent a great deal of time driving from Naperville to Mt. Prospect to Algonquin back to Mt. Prospect to Naperville to Algonquin to anywhere else that family wanted us to go because we missed them. After the passing of my grandfather, my grandmother's been lonely so I know I'll be making that stop, but after awhile all that traveling, especially during the holidays (in Nora, the Hoopdie from Hell) gets a bit difficult and stressful. And many of you know I am so riddled with anxiety I make the jitterbug look like the waltz.

At some point I'll figure it out, but until then, I'll just stick to passing my second to last semester @ the U of I.

Oh mucho mucho sadness in the world of me. Oddly enough, this is not because my reality sucks. It's going quite well actually, despite Chris' departure in a couple of weeks, and my departure as well. This revolves around the fact that I'd like to be part of a separate part of reality: I want to have super powers.

I've thought about this a lot, actually. Being the queen of procrastination that I am, there always seems to be tons of time with which I have created for myself super powers, mostly like Rogue's b/c I think of all the X-(wo)men she's the most badass. This may stem from the fact that I've always wanted to be different, that separating myself from the pack (of wolves that are my peers) would be beneficial to my good health and self esteem. The fact is this: changing myself has done little except have people forget who I am because they do not recognize me nor do they care to. Finally, I have accepted the fact that constant change may not be good, which is why my hair is stuck in this awkward shade of orange-brown and I have yet to (re) cut it from three weeks ago...though I will admit that at this point I'm starting to run out of hair.

There are a few others things I've realized this past week:
1.) Making Mexican Wedding Cakes can have disastrous effects.
2.) Just because you're nice to someone doesn't mean they'll appreciate it.
3.) I have enough problems to deal with.
4.) Making enough money to go to England mighhhtttt take awhile.
5.) I'm not qualified to have any of the jobs I'm looking at.
6.) I'm doomed to live in Westfield for the rest of my life with assholes who think they're better than me.
7.) Graduating from here is going to be one of the saddest moments of my life.
8.) I really, REALLY don't want to have to take Theo on the plane with me.
9.) Family tag teaming: countdown 12 days.
10.) The squeek in our fridge is starting to get to me...

...and that's it. I leave you with Daughtry's "Crashed" (which I'm obsessed with...also, gotta love the Covenant montage :-D).

Everyone knows one: that girl who hangs out with the guy you like. He doesn't like her, she's just an easy lay. You ask yourself, "what does she have that I do not?

The answer: No inhibitions.

Some feminists are insisting in this day and age that women should be sexually liberated. Spread the word as you spread your legs, they shout!

Now I will admit that personally I am not in a relationship and I'm no saint, obviously, but what is the difference between me and any other girl willing to throw themselves at men?

Dignity.

There are a few women who would throw caution to the wind for a good romp in the hay. Sure, you may look like someone injected your lips with pigs fat, or perhaps stretched your eyes into an awkward shape...and THEN given you absolutely no curve whatsoever to your body, but some girls really have to work hard to get men to find them attractive. If that means sleeping with them before they can even buy you dinner, then us ladies really have our work cut out for us. Does this mean that I find all women sleeping with different men offensive or morally wrong? No, of course not. All I mean to say is that women should sleep with a man who makes them happy for longer than the 15 seconds it takes said guy to shoot his load. A woman who needs a quick fix, uses a guy for riding lessons and then moves on to the next available mount without consideration for the feelings of others puts herself at risk for personally hurting herself in the future.

Girls who like a certain guy are prone to hate the girl he has sex with, dates or even marries. Are these "other women" potentially awful people? Sure...but not all of them are. I am Judgey McJudgerson when it comes to the OW (funny how it comes out as "ow"): there isn't one girls reputation I wouldn't mentally drag through the dust because inside I think I'm better for said guy. Think about it: love isn't a one way street. If this guy doesn't realize what's going on, he never will. And moving on? A good bet.

I say this to get myself motivated, and to get all women motivated. Walk away from the man who never would consider you and into the arms of the man who wouldn't consider anyone else BUT you!

GO! RUN QUICK! Because you never know when your man is gonna give it up to the easiest chick this side of Whoresville.

And for some hilarity:

I was over at the house today (a big surprise) and was given a REAL big surprise: I was told that I was not attractive enough to merit an invitation as someone's date to a company Christmas party. At first, I felt very rejected and upset because it had already taken me long enough to be comfortable with myself, but then I realized something: Why in the hell would I ever wanted to be a brainless puppet pulled along on strings because I had a sizable chest and clear skin? My whole life I've tried to prove myself to be an intelligent and witty conversationalist, with jokes and jabs entertaining enough to enthrall my audience. I'm the funny girl, damnit!

Alas, it seems that in the world of business, or attached to someone in business,  you must give up your entire life, and possibly your education, to wallow in tanning beds and dentists office, perpetually whitening your teeth. I was told one must possess the proper eating habits, as well as a thorough knowledge of business etiquette. Well, I say  SHENANIGANS to those ridiculous qualities and instead substitute my own opinion. Women should not be dead behind the eyes; why the hell do you think MOST women go to college? It sure as hell isn't to further our skills on making hair appointments or meeting with interior designers. We certainly don't do brunch (heck, even LUNCH is a maybe), nor do we gossip about the latest socialites while getting our nails done.

This is why I miss Jersey.

The girls I'm friends with at home do not really have boyfriends. If they do, it's long term, but never FOR the long term. Women from my neck of the woods are independent creatures, focused on their careers, hardly allowing cotton headed ninny muggens to rain on their parade. I have yet to hear of ONE girl from the East coast in the middle of marriage preparations. Ladies and gents, meet the "modern woman": I don't have to get married, have a boyfriend, or even a dog. I can manage on my own, with a BRAIN, rather than a nice pair of gams. So fuck off, I have a meeting to attend.

I know that I don't want to go corporate with my lifestyle. And realizing that in the future what I look like really won't matter how well I do my job, I feel safe in the knowledge that I'm attractive to myself (and maybe a few good gentleman) and that I shouldn't let someone's opinion of my personal being affect how I live my life.

I AM the epic win, baby.

Today was a big day for me: I woke up, I showered, I slapped on some warpaint and headed out into the world of...fine dining.

That's right, people, today I experienced my first JUICY LUCY.

Some of you might think that this means I sampled a girl with an arousal problem, but if you'd like to know more on the subject, feel free to go to this wikipedia link:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jucy_lucy

While it was quite...interesting to gorge on such a, well, juicy sandwich, I must say I was quite enthralled by the taste. Never again will ground beef be the same! Such punch! Such gormet revelry as to never be seen in the rest of the Midwest, ho, the WORLD!

What a cheeseburger!

That's what fine dining is all about, huh?

Also, I think I'm going to be gaining a bit more weight here in Minnesota, for my aunt keeps cooking or taking me out to eat and I swear I've gained at least another 10 pounds. It's crazy.

Happy Thanksgiving, all!

The Mall of America should come with a warning label: "Do not attempt to enter here, ye of little spending money"

Um...whoops?

While I am not exactly rolling in dough, I managed to purchase four pairs of shoes, a shirt, a pair of earrings and jeans...all under 100. 

WIN!

I'm very sad to report that that is probably the most exciting thing I've done in Minnesota but I'm happy to say that I'm glad about it. I'm not rushed to write papers or be social. Hell, my aunt and cousins have been so wonderful to me it's a surprise I haven't called a moving service to get me shipped out here perminately. Yes, I am well aware of the fact that I've read two books, waited in an airport and paid 3 dollars for a Snapple. Was I stressed? No. Did I care that my flight was delayed? Nope. All my worries flew right out the window upon glimpsing the view from the back porch of my Aunt Beth's house...it's the sort of nature I hope some day to be a part of. I never have that sort of relaxation at school, never a true natural setting like I have here. 

And just so you are all aware, the U of I Arborteum, while lovely, is not as natural as Minnesota, nor as wild/unkempt. 

I feel like I could live here at some point, despite the cold, and be truly happy. I say this about lots of places because the United States and abroad hosts many a spectacular city, town, lean-to, etc...but really I'm not fibbing when I say living in Minnesota might be good for me (besides being inexpensive, it also puts me close to family and friends in the Midwest). At some point I might even attempt to look for a job here, but as I can barely figure out what the next hour will hold for my life, I won't make any decisions yet. 

I've been doing a lot of thinking here and my brain has become less burdened with the ridiculousness that is campus and feelings/emotions. Finally, some clarity!

I miss Theo and my friends quite a bit, but it's not as if I'm dead, or dying, or never returning, ever. I'll save the true mourning for when I graduate (*dies*).

However you all spend your holidays, I hope they are festive and filled with love.

Truth:

Nothing takes the taste out of peanut butter quite like unrequited love.  ~Charlie Brown

So today I discovered a few things:

1.) Not going home for Thanksgiving both sucks and rocks at the same time.
2.) A 12 oz margarita from Dos Reales will get you F*CKED.
3.) Old flames never die out.
4.) Josh Groban canNOT rock the pop songs.
5.) Having someone correct my typing/spelling sucks.
6.) I am addicted to showers.
7.) Neal is an asshole.
8.) Affording a real gold or silver ring would be beneficial to the middle finger on my left hand. It's currently ringed in green. Gross.
9.) Some girls are bigger dicks than men.
10.) Going out tonight will probably end badly for me.

All right, so I've been mindlessly watching Sex and the City for a few minutes, and it's just hit me.

I submitted my intent to graduate. In 9 months I am officially an adult.

*Panic*

I've never really taken a romance survey thing, especially because the thought of my own romantic nuances makes me a bit nauseous. However, in the spirit of hangovers (which is what I have at this moment, no clue why) I'm going to fill one out. Enjoy

    ...and like it you shall.

I do not like sitting things out. I don't like taking things sitting down. I certainly don't enjoy taking things lying down either. In fact, I have a hard time sitting still at all (I'm all jingly legs and tapping fingernails).

Oddly enough, however, I spend most of my social life inside my head. This may sound strange to all of you, but whenever I'm out with friends and not part of the conversation, or waiting for someone to get me a drink, or various other forms of out-ness, I watch. I squint (as I usually forget my glasses) at the people across the bar, watch them interact with one another. I zone out as I wonder what my life would be like if I was a princess. Stupid shit like that.

I figure that there are few moments we have to ourselves, even when we are alone, because the internet and AIM consume our souls (or at least mine) and allow us very little self-time. This is not to be taken in a perverted manner, because even masturbation involves invisible parties. Zoning out can be all about you, even if for 5 seconds.

There was this dream I had once, of being draped in a cloak a la Stevie Nicks on a white stallion, overlooking the snow covered hills of Ireland. And the song I'm posting below played (just ignore the michelle kwan bs, the song is the main point)


My whole life I've lived off my thoughts, crazy as they may be. When all of my hopes had been lost (in a superficial, teenage way), I turned to my mind to create poetry (which, now that I look back on it, was much better than the stuff I write currently...emotional toilets WHAT?) or short stories. They were campy bits of nonsense, re-reading them now, but they provided me with an outlet that I really needed...I guess that helped to tamp down the overwhelming sense of anxiousness that haunts me today, but alas, what can I do but attempt to find something else to hold on to.

I say this often enough, but I think for awhile I'm just going to lay off men. I will be aloof, distant. I will be cold as ice. I figure at least when I graduate I'll finally have covered myself in enough layers to protect myself and will be able to date freely, without restraint on location or emotion. Woo for me.

Sleep time now, chickadees. Loves.

Right now I'm fighting back the urge to vomit. I've been reading plenty of live journals and listening to stories all weekend about men and how much they suck.

Honestly? It's really bothering me and I do not know why. For a generation of women who are probably more independent than ever before, we certainly seem to rely on men to fuel our rage, if not just our gossip, so that we seem justified in our emotions. We talk about them in the context of "oh he was such an asshole" when we fail to realize that we can be assholes, too. For the love of all that is holy, why do we only blame them? We should be slapping ourselves silly for ever considering that a man is the only reason we're miserable. Sure, they might add to it by using us and abusing us, throwing us away for greener pastures, but really? Is that all there is?

I have been known to bitch about men and quite honestly at this point in my life, after all is said and done I'm rather numb to the whole experience. Yes, I can be jealous when a guy I like (because it has only been like recently, never love) hits on/makes out with/goes out with another girl, but what can I do? He obviously wasn't for me; we just need to cut our loses and MOVE THE FUCK ON.

If the guys a stage 9 clinger, tell him to fuck off and die and just leave it at that. Refuse to be a doormat. My whole life I've gone apeshit over the men I've dated; I tend to believe I was never really myself around them, that I never can be. Men expect a different woman, they definately don't expect the trucker-mouthed, loud, sometimes obnoxious, says whats on her mind, girl. Heck, after my weekend at Northwestern I find myself in this conundrum of being a dunderhead and sometimes a ditz, too emotional and gentle towards all living creatures. Men do not see the sides of me that I want them to see, only the crazy, supercharged anxiety that follows me like a raincloud.

I'd like to say I was done with men, but I'm not. I can't be. It's just not possible. The only regret I have about my love life (or serious lack thereof) is that they never see the real me. Yeah, I'm funny, so FUCKING what?

I spent this past weekend watching men hit on me, on my friend Emma and I wondered "who cares? who are you to me? what could you ever be?"

That is not the sort of thinking I was going for when I first started college. I've become so jaded that the only thing I realize I've retained of my former self is my eye color. Nothing is the same and I mourn that naive girl I used to be: she seemed to have a damn good time.

Love.