sleep is overrated.

ideally, i should be in my cozy bed, surrouded by a plethora of blankets and my teddy, dozing off. seeing as how i have to be awake in a little bit over four hours and have a test to take in about six... sleeping would be a great idea. however, it's just not working out right now.

i don't know about you fine folks, but personally, i have certain friends that i can share certain aspects of my life with, but rarely can i find someone i can share it all with. i come close with maybe andrew, but there's the gender thing, so that prohibits a few things. there's always sarah, but she's the moral one most of the time, and since i don't like to talk to my mom or get lectures, sometimes that's counted out. steve perhaps, but since he falls under the ex-boyfriend/first love category as well as close friend it makes it difficult.

there really isn't anyone that i feel completely safe to talk to about everything in my life. that's normal i'm thinking... right? maybe not.

either way. the people that don't make the list, the ones the piss the shit out of me for the reasons they don't make the list, are the critical ones.

i do what makes me happy. what makes me happy depends on the moment in time and the activity. if i'm not endangering myself or affecting you in any way, shape, or form, it shouldn't bother you. if what i'm doing upsets you, fine... but don't get angry at me. you can maaaybe get angry at the situation... but if you love me, if you're really my friend, you will accept my decisions for what they are, accept that it is what makes or made me happy, and deal with it.

if it doesn't affect you... who cares? i don't care what you think, and if you have a problem with something i do, bring it up once. i'll listen sincerely, take it to heart, and go on with my life. i will either change or i won't. it's not up to you. my life is not your gossip column. it is not yours to talk to others about or otherwise meddle in.

i need a happy blog. something entertaining needs to happen to me.

i need a humorous theme.

[harumph.]

flowers are the cure-all.

i received a big bouquet of tulips today. don't worry, no boy likes me enough to send me anything that exciting... they're from sarah. what superb effort put in by my best friend at northwestern.

[the only problem with a large bouquet of flowers sent to my dorm room is the fact that i haven't had a vase handy since last year, when it was neccessary occasionally. this was a very problematic situation. since i know only a few girls in this building and the rest are all boys, it was problem-solving time.

hooray for having an empty half-gallon milk jug laying on top of the garbage.

after cleaning it out in the bathroom, cutting off the top in a very stylish manner, tying the bottom of the bouquet with a rubber band, they were set on my desk. it looked fairly humorous, but what can you do.

luckily, down the hall came amanda as i was going out. double hooray for her letting me borrow a vase big enough; she is officially my hero.]

now, the real question for the masses is why would i get flowers today, of all days?

well, apparently they are considered "forgive me" flowers. when someone tells you something in confidence, and you then proceed to tell this confidential fact to not one but two people while intoxicated... you feel bad about it [rightfully so, i might add.].

leland p. fitzgerald taught me that getting angry doesn't make what happened unhappen, so why bother. as true as it is, it's hard to do. if you tell someone something that you made very clear is something not to tell specific people, then they tell a person you put on the specific "do not tell" list, it's a little upsetting.

okay, it's infuriating.

apparently flowers make up for it.

that should be a question. how can flowers make up for something that happened? apology flowers from anyone don't make what happened, what someone did that hurt you, or screwed you, or whatever, unhappen. since i can't really say i care anymore about pretty much anything, the flowers were just a nice touch.

there should be a law.

random side note: someone at work yesterday commented that he was "very attracted" to a woman customer. i have decided to start using this phrase seeing as how no one ever says anything besides "he's hot" or attractive or whatever. since attractiveness is relatively nothing more than someone's opinion, i think it's a more applicable statement. besides, saying you're attracted to someone is excusable in life, since i don't think it is controllable. that said.

michael p.

that's what my technician's name tag said when i was called in for my heart monitor how-to. mike, as he proceed to call himself on the phone to the cardiac center, was about 25, and, to be quite honest, i was "very attracted" to.

his hands were shaking as he was highlighting the information i needed to keep, most likely because i could sue him if he touched me wrong.

when i noticed this, i became a bit uncomfortable. i've never had a male doctor-ish person that has been under the age of 50. i began to realize that this person was going to have to hook wires up to my chest. his hands were still shaking after he finished explaining what i needed to know. when he was finished setting up what i needed to adhere to myself, he couldn't look me in the eye.

"do you mind if i do this, or would you rather have me grab a female?" he asked as he walked toward the door of the tiny room.

"um, it doesn't matter, i don't care, um, yeah whatever, i don't care... it... doesn't matter..." i stammered, questioning my response.
was i supposed to say yes?
did this make me some weirdo in the fact that i didn't ask him to get a woman?

the room got smaller.

"alright well i just need you to unzip your sweater."

i took it off. then remembered he only told me to unzip it. shit. i was officially a weirdo.

"okay, see, these three adhesives go on three quadrants of your torso. white goes here, black, then red." he drew imaginary lines and pointed to his chest. i didn't know if i should sit or stand.

"i'm going to lift your shirt a little here. alright, there's red. now this side is black. this last one goes on the top..."

we both entered the city of awkward as i lifted my shirt up, as though i was flashing him. i don't think he'd ever adhered one to someone so fast.

we then started chatting; making jokes when i told him i didn't want to look like a dork with a pager, and i really didn't want it to beep during class. he talked to me about whitewater, some random house parties, and asked, "you're never going to wear this, are you?" i said sure i was, the sooner i got it over with, the better. he handed me a bag of supplies and said, "here's your bag; you could carry it around with you and feel even better about yourself."

"awesome."

"we could get you a hat and a t-shirt made, let everyone know you have to wear this."

was he flirting with me? this was unacceptable. in a good way.

we part ways, i go back to my mom, he goes behind the counter. we wave as i walk away.

my mom's eyes go wide. "THAT was who did it for you?"

"yeeep."

"wow. uncomfortable?"

"yeeep."

my mom proceeded to joke about how i should have asked him for his phone number in case i had any "technical problems". she told me i had cute bras and that he was probably thinking "va va voom". this from my mother.

i told steve about it, and he said he doesn't think he could be a doctor and look at attractive girls without sneaking a peak. there was no need to sneak today.

there should be a law against young attractive doctors or doctor-ish men that have to look at the chests of girls that are technically in their age range. awkward all around.

maybe i should have said i needed a woman, but where's the fun in that?

and the exhaustion creeps in.

bear with me, i can barely see straight [and for the record, i just spelt that "bearly", looked at it for 30 seconds and decided it was incorrect, finally coming up with the correct spelling. there's something wrong with me lately.]. this weekend, more than most for some reason, has sucked every ounce of energy and otherwise awake-ness out of me.

alright so i have had this conversation with a few people now, and thought that once the number of people reached three, it was blog-worthy. so:

can you differentiate between someone that wants to pursue a friendship with you and someone that wants to pursue a more, shall we say, intimate relationship?

it seems to be a skill much more difficult to master than it should be.

i remember when i first got to college, for the first time in ages i was single, and, out of habit, didn't expect boys to want anything more than friendship from me. since i was single [and a freshman], it was open season for the creepy guys to say what they would to me, sit next to me in class, and otherwise be pretty straightforward about whatever it was that they wanted from me. i didn't really catch on. people had to alert me that boys were attempting to hit on me. maybe it was the environment, maybe it was my denial. either way, i was in new territory.

older still, i think it's impossible. the boys have told me that they can almost always tell when another guy is going for a girl. but seriously, what if he just thinks she's cool? where is that distinction? i mean, it's sort of a scary thought... to not be aware, to not know what's going on. jason says it's probably more so just emotions getting in the way... over-analyzing everything someone does, that leads you to second guess it all, which i guess is accurate. but still.

i started thinking about this thanks to meghan, for the most part. a story of semi-unrequited love that she thought wasn't so unrequited. you see, if you take someone as though they're attracted to you and you're wrong... you look like an idiot if you express the assumed mutual feelings you have. and if you don't see it, and ignore it... you look like an idiot for thinking someone is like your "brother" [or sister], or someone you met that you happen to get along with really well.

i think i've exhausted this topic like it's my job in life the past few days, but it was really brett that decided that it's just too much work. getting to know people, attempting to figure out what they want from you just from talking to them? who wants to do that in life? dating's dumb. [it's not really, i thoroughly enjoy it most of the time to be honest. i wish i thought it was dumb.] it's scary to think about, i can't even get over it. either way you take it, you look like an idiot if you're wrong about someone.

i guess the solution would be to just stop talking to the opposite sex. however, since that is pretty much my addiction in life, i don't think it's going to happen too soon, but we'll see. maybe someone will just fall into our lap and we'll just know. no more thinking.

i am exhausted. through and through.

beep beep. beep.

i wasn't going to say anything, and pretend i was going to die, but i don't think that would work, so i've decided to come clean.

i have a birth defect in my heart.

it's very unexciting; i've had it all my life, it's just that now the equipment is more apt to tell me exactly what's wrong with me, as opposed to when i was eleven, and no one really knew what to do with me. something about... well, i don't really know. i didn't pay attention when the guy was talking. i was already fairly traumatized after having to bend over to touch my toes, wearing an open cloth gown, while he stood behind me, supposedly re-positioning my heart, or checking out my spine, i don't really know.

either way.

along with this new technology comes a heart moniter. a contraption i will have to wear every day for the next month of my life. now, i don't receive this device until monday, but they tell me that it includes some sticker things that i can take off when i sleep, but must reapply everyday, connected to some sort of beeper. this, my friends, is a nightmare.

and if people keep making fun of me for it, scaring me by saying this beeper-thingy is going to be a foot long, or making loud beeping sounds in the middle of class, i am going to throw it at them.

if you happen to see me, in all my dorky glory, attempting to hide a pager-looking thing on my hip, i will be expecting your giggles.

ugh. horrific.

for future reference.

okay boys, listen close. we're going to play a little pretending game.

close your eyes, take a deep breath [then open your eyes to continue to read], and imagine your pretend girlfriend is giving you a present. alright. open said present and observe that it is an inside joke with you two - a t-shirt that says 'world's 2nd greatest guy'. again, an inside joke. it sounded more humorous than world's greatest guy to you both. okay, got that? now flash forward a year [god, has it really been that long?]; you and pretend girlfriend have broken up, presumably fairly amiably. you have a new girlfriend, she has a new boyfriend.

let's say one night you're doing laundry, and you come across the shirt you received oh-so long ago.

here's what NOT to send her over the internet:
"i found that shirt you gave me, and i realized that the shirt marked the moment our relationship was going nowhere. it was a joke the i was number 2 but thats like a metaphor for me never being good enough and that id never be the best doesnt mean you didnt like me or we didnt have a good time but...., just a idea last night when doing luandry"

it's not pleasant to wake up to.

just... don't do it.

promise?

thanks.

thankful girl.

the biting cold is killing my mood. everytime i come back from class and my ears still hurt, another happy thought disappears. because of this, i have promptly decided to make a list. a list to remind myself of what i have that is not cold, and does not hurt my ears. it's all about the little things.

things that make me smile, in spite of dreary weather (no particular order):

1. jersey cotton sheets.
2. eye makeup.
3. marijuana and other miscellaneous mind-altering substances.
4. a pretty sunset outside my window that i can observe from the warmth of my building.
5. my snuggle pillow, aka bedtime bear care bear, aka teddy.
6. greeting cards with the word "naked" featured on the front.
7. ECLIPSE SPEARMINT GUM.
8. skim milk.
9. someone that notices the way i open my straws, and likes it.
10. my labtec computer speakers.
11. "the good kind" by the wreckers... girly acoustic music.
12. worn-in and worn-out t-shirts from ex-boyfriends.
13. "tainted love" by the clash, and all the other random songs you can sing all the words to and look like a freakazoid doing so.
14. the rare left handed desk i get to use in my adolescent lit class.
15. CARMEX.
16. the fortune wrappers on dove dark chocolate.
17. clever away messages.
18. hearing "you smell fantastic"... directed at me.
19. the notebook... the thought that it's possible. that love.
20. you :)

snuggle up. stay warm.

do you like your bubble?

there are certain things i just cannot stand, no matter how hard i try. can i help it if i value my personal space?

let's talk about a few.

1. friends who insist on walking three or four people shoulder-to-shoulder down the sidewalk on the way to class. i like my pace; i walk quickly, by myself, and when there are four people using up the entire walkway, it's nearly impossible to dodge them all without losing speed. i'm not in the mood to walk slow and watch you not talk to each other. split up and give me my well-deserved space. i'd like to just get to class as soon as possible and get it over with. i don't like to walk behind groups that feel the need to take their sweet time. i don't want to follow you; i don't want to be some creepy girl that's tailing you. i just want to pass you, which i am not able to do without some serious manuevering. unacceptable. there should be a law.

2. if someone sits in the desk right next to me when there are at least five others empty. if i don't know you, what is the purpose of sitting next to me? example: speech class. a girl walks in behind me, sitting directly on my right. deep breath and i'm fine; i still have my other side. three minutes later, in walks some dude, directly on my left, with three other desks NOT next to me. this class is at 930. i don't want to be there, let alone sit next to you. the kid to my left starts trying to make small talk relating to the lecture. no thanks. i do not look at him, only smirk... sort of. it probably didn't even look like a smirk to anyone paying attention, since it took all of my strength to try to even give him that. this is just poor etiquette, folks. think of it like toilet stalls. urinels. you don't use the one right next to someone unless you have to, right?

3. i'm not sure this counts, but i'm saying it anyway. people that toot in class. this rarely happens, right? well, there is a brown-nosed boy in my linguistics class that has done it. Twice. now, i could maaaaybe understand if it was a slip, but i saw him lift his left leg to do this disgusting deed. leg lift, toot, 'excuse me'. WHAT?! this is NOT socially acceptable!!! if one cannot smoke in a classroom because of the smoke that dissipates throughout the classroom, what do you think something like that does? blecch.

4. people that try to sell me things, sign up for things, and otherwise try to form conversations without my consent. i'm in the cafeteria. i am trying to have a conversation with a friend and eat; i don't want you to hassle me about anything. i'm tired, i just got done with class. the last thing i need is for a creepy managerial man to sit next to me in my booth, mid-bite of my chicken sandwich, and ask me to donate something or another. i didn't ask to talk to you, i am just trying to eat and talk to a friend. i think maaaybe if he just chose to stand next to the booth and hassle, but this guy tries to be funny, or your friend, or your future sexual partner, and plops right down. not even asking. i don't think i look inviting. get outta there.


don't get me wrong. i am a very affectionate person, i like to snuggle, i like being in close proximities of friends and loved ones. however, strangers will forever be another story.

strangers, stay alert : i like my bubble.

happy halmark holiday.

love. sort of a frequent topic in most of these for me, isn't it? well, i can't help it. one way or another, it consumes me. this is my holiday!

i was just in the bathroom, ran into amanda, and was asked what i was doing for valentine's day. sadly enough my answer was "uh... nothing."

karsten would always tell me i was in love with love. as cynical as i am, i still like to pretend that it's possible for some people to be happy; to be in a kind of love that the majority of people don't find. maybe it's so entertaining to watch or read about because it's so unrealistic. either way, i love it. i strive for it. i live for love. it's more fun that way.

this is the first valentine's day in four years i haven't done a single thing for. ignored it all. forgot about it to be honest with you. life stepped in; i was too busy to notice; i didn't have anything to notice, i suppose, with the exception of a card or two i got in the mail, much appreciated gestures as well as a vague reminder of where my head's supposed to be.

you know, people give valentine's day a bad rep for being a made up holiday [which it might be, but i always thought there was a saint valentine. i could be making that up, however.], but generally those people are the crotchety ones that are just pissed off that no one wants to be their "valentine". the reality of it is that it is simply a day of love. you can spend it with whomever makes you happy. you can go out with friends or family. you could sit by yourself and bask in the fact that you are happy with yourself. it's just another day... a day where more people than usual wear red or pink. but they're dorks.

for some reason, this year, it's just another day to me, and that is something i haven't been able to say in a long time. i guess considering i can't hate the holiday, and am not celebrating it, what else is there to do.

[sigh.]

who wants to be my valentine?

fuckng facades.

aren't there people in your life that you regraet ever talking to in your life? or for that mater, ever talking to again in your life?

there sure are in mine.

one in aprticular. full of crap, that one is.

why do we continue to punish ourselves in such a manner, when much better choices and things are out there for us?

[yep, i'm on drugs and alcohol for all you d.a.r.e. advocates out there.]

fyi. just curious.

someone fill me in. or, even better question, why are people full of crap in the first place? why can't people just fuckin deal and say what they mean and have it be the truth, or say what they mean and have them NOT change their minds in 3.2 seconds? "uhh... uhh... no, it's not like that." oh. alright. whatever you say. whatever helps you sleep at night. let's all pretend. the bridge to fucking terabithia. next thing you know, i'll be your queen. but wait. i was maybe for a second or two.

yep. i'll proabably delete this tomorrow, so if you're reading it, feel lucky.

if you need me, i'll be sleeping.



[for the next forever.]

don't forget your pink highlighter.

just one question today: why does it seem that returning students [otherwise known as the adults dispersed throughout classes that don't fit in] feel the need to not only ask question after question, answer everything thrown at the class, but also take notes on things that aren't neccessary [ie a useless video on language], complete with highlighted sections. no one else in the class is moving even slightly in this direction because it is just not needed.

it's a movie. we're watching it to pass time. there will be no quiz, no paper to write, no questions at all to answer about it. it is not fascinating enough to just write down random facts.

we're all learning here. we're on the same level, i'm in the same class. you don't have to prove to me that you're older and thus more responsible in taking notes or something. it is completely unneccessary to pull out the highlighter everytime the professor speaks.

to be more precise, i think i'm smarter in the fact that i am not wasting my time. i smile at you wasting yours. i hope the lead in your pencil breaks and that the ink in your damn pink highlighter runs out.

chill out all you adult students.

[for more on these silly people, see elizabeth's blog. it made me giggle. http://americanmujer.blogspot.com/2005/01/i-shake-my-fist-at-adult-students.html ]

happy superbowl... if i cared. which i don't. so this has nothing to do with that. fyi.

has anyone ever said to you, "wow, he really cares about you. i can tell by the way he looks at you," and you have never really noticed? more importantly, have you ever stepped back, noticed, and promptly realized the way he looks at you only translates into love? me either usually. however, when it happens, it forces one to look at life in a different manner.

[speaking from the standpoint of ms. pessimistic cynical selfish hypocrite, it proves to be a nice change.]

to be able to sit and feel someone's love envelope you [side note: envelop - this being a word which i recently discovered is pronounced 'en-VELL-up'... oops.] must be one of those things you are to consider yourself lucky if felt.

indescribable, really.

[how corny is this, honestly.]

to find someone that cares about you to the point where your feelings don't even have to be matched, that you could just sit still and they'd still throw themselves in front of a moving vehicle if you needed them to is a rarity. okay, maybe not throw themselves in front of a moving vehicle, but you get me. you can just see that they'd help you in anything you needed, whether it be the aforementioned vehicle crisis, someone to run errands with [the guy in the dr. pepper (what i mean is... dr. peppar.) commercial where the guy buys the tampons, or folds her panties, etc...], someone to listen to you while you bitch and moan about the meaningless trials and tribulations of life, or the most hated chore in my personal world, doing the dishes... just by paying attention to their eyes, their touch... just, the way they are with you. they love you, you know?

honesty. consistency. and that big word that means so much that it loses its meaning eventually... ['love'.].. all these things we search for, we yearn for, we pretend they don't matter, that we don't need them, when we don't have them in the forefront of our minds and bodies...

if these things, these moments, have the chance to save me from life for 3.2 seconds, i suppose i should pay more attention, not take them for granted, not do something that could possibly jepordize something exceptional.

to find someone that cares for you... well, i suppose not only that; that's not enough... someone that you can reciprocate the feelings back ten fold... c'mon. you'd be a fool to pass that up.

wouldn't you?

[this is all blog-code for those of you that don't know me, which i suppose is a great thing about these. certain people know certain things about my life that others don't. i think if you all were placed in a room purely to talk about me, it would be comparable to solving a mystery, except... it would be my life; everyone would have their own facts and events to contribute, resulting in everyone knowing everything, which i guess no one does. i suppose that would be the same for everyone. how terribly interesting.

quick, everyone gather facts.]