Working Some Magic

Below is the entry I wrote, ohhhhh, I don’t know, less than seven hours ago, and I was going to publish except that I was so distracted and aggravated that I couldn’t think how to spell “tyrannosaurus” and I wanted to call it “Tyrannosaurus Tuesday” because that was the first alliteration I could think of that went with Tuesday.  Right.  Anyway, because I double-checked the spelling of the old title (I had the double n as a double r) and my mood was vastly improved after going to work (unnatural, highly), I thought, “Eh, why the hell not?” and went on ahead with the publishing.  This is, to warn you, fairly stream of conscious, frustrated, angry, irritated, upset me, not bothering to censor myself or make anything funny or well-articulated.  And because I’m also kind of sleep-deprived, I will tell you that it took me a minute to decide if I needed “accept” or “except” up there.  All the English majors say heyyyyyyyy!

Today has just been full of frustration, and it’s the kind of frustration that makes me feel lame for even complaining about, because it’s silly stuff that normally wouldn’t get in my way, but I’m getting hung up on it, for some reason, today.  I’ve had this feeling before, like my insides are unsettled and are shifting against each other, grating and trying to right themselves, and while they do that in there, out here I’m a raving bitch.  I am usually slow to anger and slow, even, to annoyance, but today everything is setting me off on rampages.  It starts with being awake too early, which guarantees grumpiness, then with not eating regularly, another way to make sure I’m irritated, which then leads to feeling sorry for myself because I always have a weird eating schedule, I never get to eat with my friends because of schedule differences, and nothing is ever going to get better EVER.  Adding to the two surefires are minor roommate issues, a bitchface TA, and the fact that I can’t even really finish this entry properly because I have to go to damn work and be pretend-happy, and the thought of forcing myself to act cheerful and fake is making me nauseous.  What I know would make me feel better is going to bed.  Unfortunately, after work there’s German sentence revisions and a reading quiz for Biology yet, plus a shower and possibly Stats homework.  Yikes.  This day has been fucking bleak.  I desperately need to have a sense of humor about all this, but that which is usually quick to come to me seems out of reach too.  I don’t got jokes.  Not today, at least.

Juxtaposition

Currently: reading Richard III while listening to “Get Buck In Here”.

But it’s ONLY because I really like the part where Ludacris says, “If you wanna learn something, bring your mother!”

Shakespeare Class Trivia Fun Facts!

Number of girls in the class: 20+

Number of guys in the class: 4

Number of guys who already talk way too much about how drunk they got this weekend: 1

Number of times my favorite professor cursed in class already: like, 3

Number of people wearing scarves indoors: at least 5

Why I Missed BG, Reason #237

Someone just walked past my door while saying “Man, probable cause is a mothafucka“. 

Indeed it is, my friend.  Indeed it is.

Trip Around The Sun, Part Two

Aaaaaaaaaaaand, apparently I have so much to say about last year that I ran out of room in one entry!  There’s a reason my father nicknamed me Gabriella von Flappingtongue when I was little.  So.  Here’s the second half of my year, in riveting detail:

July….man, the summer months run together in my head a little.  July brought my best friend to town unexpectedly, so you know it was good.  Honestly, most of the things I remember from June and July are things I already wrote about on here, which cemented them in my brain, so it feels kind of cheap to keep this up.  So let’s move onto August.  The Olympics happened, and I was in Florida with two of my sisters and several cats.  I spent my days at the beach, then reading, showering, napping, and snacking in various combinations, and my evenings out to dinner and then in my sister’s apartment watching the Olympics with some of the people I love most in the whole world.  It was pretty perfect.  It was exactly what vacation should feel like, that feeling of wet beachy hair and old armchair comfort while you just sit and listen to the people around you talk because you’re too golden to function at the moment.  In sad news, August brought the death of the best car known to man, and this death is on my hands.  I have still not dealt with it fully.  I miss that car so hard, all the time.  She was so… so stalwart.  And if I hadn’t totaled her, I know she would’ve stuck with me for at least the next three years.  I’m sorry I’m so serious about my car; I’m not sure how it happened, but I am sure I can’t stop.

August also brought my return here, to BG.  I was so panicked.  And then things turned out okay.  I don’t know how else to say it, because it really was that simple.  The world did not end, it only got better, and I know I am really one lucky bitch.  September flew by.  Really.  My sister got married and looked good doing it.  I got to see the Florida sister for the second time in as many months, which is so rare and so happy-making.  I threw up in the bushes outside of my house one night after a taxi ride home in which my driver may have popped some pills while stopped at a red light.  Incidentally, this was the night before the wedding.  Funny how these things happen!  I feel like mostly in September I just got to hang out with a bunch of cool people and get to know them better.  Did you know that I’m also at school?  You wouldn’t, from the way I would describe my September.  There’s nothing of note school-wise that happened in September, and that’s weird to me.  Anyways, September also brought a job that sort of tumbled into my lap, as all the jobs that I have ever had have.  Again, I am one lucky bitch.  October brought glorious fall weather.  It started to get cool and breezy and the leaves changed and it was gorgeous.  I love the change of seasons, so I was in bliss.  I think that in October I began to find every single boy around me attractive; there’s a lot of eye candy around here, man, and in October I took full advantage of it.  October also brought four migraines in eight days, so therefore, there was one week where basically all I did was go to bed early and lie around moaning and feeling nauseous.  But!  I also went to the doctor and got these magic pills that melt under your tongue and get rid of your headache.  I have never experienced anything that did that ever before, ever, besides an hour-and-a-half nap, and I have literally had migraines for my entire life.  Thank GOD for October, then.  I feel like October was more of the same socially, but that is the furthest thing from bad, because for once in my life “the same socially” is not crying and constantly worrying about what others think of me and wondering if I’ll ever have friends and if I’ll ever fit in and stop wanting to go home and why does nobody like meeeeeee?  Yeah.  No more of that.  As the clock changed from October to November, I cast my vote for change while listening to “Charlemagne in Sweatpants”.  And four days later, surrounded by the people that have been my saving grace this fall, I watched him give his acceptance speech and held back tears.  It was breathtaking.  I remember when the family walked onstage, smiling and waving to the adoring crowds, I freakin’ squealed with glee, “Awww, look how great they are!”  It was one of my favorite nights of the year.

I’m sorry, I know that this second part is sort of a copout on month-describing, but November too feels like it went by really fast.  I went to classes, had lazy weekends, ate lots of bacon, spent a disgusting amount of time dicking around on the internet, probably drank some beer, got new brown boots, ate turkey, called people and asked them for money.  You know.  Same old, same old.  December was a weird, patchwork month, because half was spent at school and half was spent here at home.  Exams were gross, but I attended a silent dance party (glowsticks included!) and ate Mexican food, and spent many a night staying up talking to and laughing with my adorable roommate.  And packing up to go home, I was actually sad.  I had people I loved and would miss over the next three and a half weeks, and I had trouble leaving them for home.  That was a new feeling.  And then I came home and was absolutely engulfed by family time.  I don’t see my sisters enough, but over break I got to spend a LOT of time with them, and I’m glad that happened.  There wasn’t a whole lot of time with friends because of all of the aforementioned family time, but there was just enough for me to be happy, and I know there’ll be some more here in the next few days, so it’s all good.

Aaaaaaand, that was my year.  The first four months? I’d like to keep the tags on and return ‘em, please.  But the last eight were amazing, better than I ever expected, and now I think 2009 will be absolutely magical, so anything less than the absolute best simply will not do.  Even though two hours into 2009 saw me vigorously scrubbing at carpet to get out the vomit stains, I still have high hopes for the next twelve months.  I’m wishing on an eyelash I won’t be disappointed.

Trip Around The Sun, Part One

Hello.  I just wanted to sit and reflect a little bit on the last year of my life.  Actually, this part of the entry is being written on September 11th, because my mind kept wandering to this topic during English class instead of actually paying attention to Wimsatt and New Criticism and all that boring bullshit.  I’m just so much happier than I was last year, so happy that things have changed for the better here, and I thought that instead of just marinating in the juicy sauces of joy (ETA on October 27: What the fuck is up with this imagery here?  What was I doing with that, exactly?), I thought I’d make myself a tiny little bit more miserable by revisiting parts of the past.  Let’s do the time warp (again?)!

It seems a little melodramatic to start with January, but it’s…the beginning, so I’ll just dive right in.  January was rough, y’all.  I remember very vividly one single night smack-dab in the middle of the month that involved desperate midnight crying, a momentary turn to Jesus, and alot of talking to myself, practicing breathing exercises.  Okay, so basically like every other day around here, come to think of it.  Moving on.  It was the start of a new semester, which offered some hope, but I think that by this point in the school year, I was resigned to a bitter, awful ride til the end.  I was not wrong.  February…uhhhh, I don’t remember alot about February.  Two years ago in February, I read Crime and Punishment, if that counts for anything.  Probably not, huh?  I do remember getting a box of Valentine’s candy from my mom, because I will never really be cool.  And I’m not ashamed to say that I can’t wait to get yet another Valentine’s box this year.  Best! tradition! ever!  March was my birthday month!  I was hungover.  Not for the whole month, just for my birthday.  My friends went to lunch with me and then left for Dayton, and I spent my birthday chilling in my room, watching other people I didn’t like get drunk, and editing other people’s English papers because they were too stupid to pass their class without me.  I am still a little bitter about this past birthday, but then again, I couldn’t even tell you what my best birthday was.  I think it may have involved Marian’s, which is not too shabby, but I am not a “let’s celebrate my birthday, because clearly the day I was born is monumental and epic!” kind of person.  I am not one who likes the limelight, although saying that makes me want to peer over my shoulder for someone pointing at me and shouting, “WRONG, you lying, attention-whoring princess!”  That person may or may not be one of my sisters.

Oh my God, anyways.  Do I remember anything else about March?  Nothing comes to mind.  Some things probably happened.  Was this the month I wrote a paper drunk and then had my professor call its prose “enviably beautiful”?  Oh no, that was April.  Whoa, maybe I am an attention whore…  Things seemed a bit more bearable in April, because I knew the end of the school year was coming.  However, there was the weekend where my ex-roommate’s little sister appeared on a Sunday night to stay and hang out that night and the next day because her spoiled sophomore-in-high-school ass had the Monday off.  Anyways, I had some sort of panic attack that night and took a walk around campus by myself at 1:30 in the morning, which in general is something I guess you’re not supposed to do.  I did not get raped.  I also distinctly remember the evening I wrote said drunken paper.  It was about 7:00, and I decided to walk to Starbucks, because I knew I had a long night ahead of me.  That walk may have been the happiest I was all school year.  Is that overly dramatic?  I just remember that the sun was setting and it was a beautiful day and there was this boy I liked, and I wasn’t worried about my paper and I knew the end of the year was coming soon so things would be alright.  I still remember that night alot, because it was one of precious few memories I enjoy from last school year.  Other than that, I think my favorite April day was my oldest sister’s birthday, April 29th.  I was sitting in my bed on the phone with her, taking down the things I had hung up on my wall to remind me of home, and I just remember this incredible feeling of happiness, of, of, of relief I guess, of a return to wholeness, like finally, I made it, things can go back to normal now.  Two days later it was May, and it rained and I moved out; I remember sitting on the unmade, unlofted bed of the girl across the hall from me, in her unfurnished room thinking to myself : “I’m going to remember this for a very long time”.  I suppose there were a lot of things that were ”un-” that day, but happy is not one of them.  And I remember very well the ride home because GOD I was overjoyed.  I’m sorry, I know I sound like a melodramatic baby with all the talk of the horrors of freshman year, like girl, why didn’t you just move your ass out of there at the first, second, or 75th sign of trouble?  And I can tell you that the reason is because I am a pussy.  Seriously, I am the biggest wuss about standing up for myself.  The first step, I hear, is admitting you have a problem. 

So, May.  In May, one of my close friends had a beautiful baby boy named Alan.  He only weighed four pounds when he was born, and the day he was born I didn’t even get to see him becuase he was in a special nursery, but now, he’s just fine.  He’s better than fine.  I don’t know if you’ve heard, but I also went to New York with my three best friends in May.  That’s one of the single most important highlights of the month, and probably of the year, but it’s only September right now, so maybe someone will surprise me with a 4.0 or a free pony or a home-cooked dinner or something.  I am ever hopeful.  But seriously, I think that’s basically all that happened in May, and I remember thinking that when I came back, things should probably start happening to me, like this is the point in the movie where I get swept off my feet or offered a life-changing internship or get hit by a train.  Come on, New York!  Spit me out something good!  June meant more minor traveling, like to Yellow Springs for a camping trip and Kentucky for a sister trip.  June was a pretty perfect representation of what summer should be like, all lemonade and heat.  I’m pretty into June. 

To be continued….

Saccharine-ing In The New Year

Things are about to get a little bit cloying.  You’ve been warned.

Right now, after such a mundane but amazing day, I feel so lucky.  I just…. I realize how freaking lucky I am.  I remember how shitty I felt just one year ago, hell, less than one year ago, and I look at the way things are now, and just smile.  And tonight, sitting in the backseat of my best friend’s car, I was just overwhelmed by this strange feeling.  I was hopeful, and I just realized, “You know, everything’s going to turn out all right.”  And then I came home and danced in the shower, and when I got out of the shower I put on two of the songs that make me feel the most hopeful and I danced some more.  And I couldn’t stop laughing, and I couldn’t stop smiling, and I can’t stop laughing and I can’t stop smiling.  I am one lucky bitch.  Last year was, I think, the unhappiest I have ever consistently been in my life.  I am not usually an unhappy person.  I have rough days, or even rough stretches of days, but things always look up, and last year, when they didn’t, it came as a serious shock to my system, and I just did not know how to deal.  Or I did, but I didn’t have the balls to.  I am not generally known as a ballsy person.  But I made a move (literally) to change things at the beginning of the school year, and change things it did, and for that I could not be any more grateful.  I just….wonder.  Things could have been so different this school year, and believe me, there were a few days in the beginning when I was terrified that nothing would change, but then…well it wasn’t even miraculous, or even a big thing.  I can’t pinpoint when or how it happened, but everything turned out fine.  Better than fine.  And again I say: I am lucky. 

Happy new year.  This one’s gonna be great.