Things I Yelled At Passerby And Fellow Motorists From The Safe Confines Of My Car, Addled By Coffee And Too Little Lunch, Adrenaline Pumping Through My Veins From Turning A Paper In Juuuuust Under Deadline And Running Late:

• “You are a bus.  You are bigger than the pedestrians walking in front of you.  JUST START DRIVING.  They’ll move!  Run them over if you have to!”
• “Tights are not paaaaaaants!”
• “Roads are for pedestrians to cross, not wander down like the dazed sole survivor of the apocalypse.”
• “OMG, the stop hand means STOP WALKING not ‘Stop using your brain to interpret this symbol into a meaningful directive to keep yourself from getting run over’.  I WILL RUN YOU OVER.”

Today’s Little Thing

I can hear my upstairs neighbor singing loudly and passionately through my ceiling and it is making the memory of my shitstorm of an afternoon disappear, and for that, I am much obliged.

Ugh, so yes, it’s been a month since I wrote last.  Dayton kills my drive to write.  I’ve been here since the week of Thanksgiving, and am here through New Year’s, and aghhhh.  I just want to go home, I keep thinking, which is funny because also, I am home.  But my childhood home just feels incredibly smothering, and I don’t have the money to go out and do anything, so the only time I can get out of here is for free things, which everyone knows are few and far between.  So mostly I’ve been kinda cranky and moody and daydreamy about my Athens apartment, so here:

I miss how pretty it looks inside with my white, blank walls when it’s light outside.  I miss my giant comfy couch and my big grey circle chair and my bed.  I miss feeling like a grownup living and making it on her own, feeling independent.  I miss controlling the remote.  I miss never having to wear pants and sometimes not wearing a shirt, either.  I miss the other people in my program, because now I’m never around people my own age except for the very occasional old friend catch-up visit, and it’s not enough.  I miss my kooky upstairs neighbor (who read me my TAROT before I left!  Twice!).  Sometimes, I just miss living alone.  I can’t believe those words just came out of my fingers, but my time was my time and my space was my space.    I miss the routine I had settled into.  I miss walking to classes.  I miss my classes.  I miss learning and loving the path I suddenly found myself on.  I miss feeling like I was doing something new every single day.  I miss the one part in my apartment where I could stand and see almost all of my earthly possessions with just the sweep of my head.  I miss my cozy nights in, even though I’m essentially doing a lot of the same thing here.  It just felt different there.  I miss singing really loudly all around my apartment.  I kind of even miss the town.  I miss going to campus.  I miss having my stuff around me.  Ugh, I just miss the life I started there and then abruptly had to abandon.

And, because fair is fair, and there are advantages to being home:

I do not miss my stupid front door in which the key always sticks, every. single. time.  I don’t miss my scary, shitty, outdated laundry facilities or doing laundry myself, period.  I do not miss very rarely getting a square meal.  I don’t miss (except I kind of do) eating crap so, so often because I can’t cook and can’t be arsed to learn how (haha, British slang, where did you come from??).  I don’t miss having to spend money on groceries, or bleeding money in general.  I do not miss listening to my upstairs neighbor’s cat run across her floors every night.  I don’t miss having no/very little leisure reading time.  I don’t miss the smelly front hall of my building, or my cobwebby mailbox, or taking out the trash.  I do not miss having a few days where I had literally no real-life human interaction.  I do not miss getting lonely.

There was a time in my life when I absolutely could not fathom ever wanting to NOT be at my childhood home.  I couldn’t imagine growing up and being OK with being away from it all the time.  So even though I’m here now and missing my Athens apartment dearly, I take the missing as a good sign, a growing-up sign.  There are way too many moments in my life which make me feel painfully young, much younger than I am, so I’ll try to take this feeling and spin it into a positive.

WWW

Today was the kind of day that was inevitably going to end in wine, weeping, or wall-punching.  I chose the first, but that doesn’t mean the other two are off the table just yet.

From The Heart

It is at times like theeeeeeese, my trusted friends, that I feel like I haven’t learned a GODDAMNED THING in the past year.  Not one goddamned thing.  Haven’t changed one iota of my being.  Ay papi.

Grumpelstiltskin

I HATE that it’s been 11 days since my last post.  I’d been doing so good!  But, I was home on Spring Break, and there’s just something about being in Dayton that kills my drive to write.  I was relatively unmotivated and lazy all of break, come to think of it; I think I must have watched about twenty hours of basketball in the last three days I was home.  I did manage to apply to one grad program my first day of break, so there’s something.  And I thought I would be overjoyed to be back in BG, but I’ve been incredibly grumpy allllll day.  Minimal patience.  I think I’m just super salty at February and the boy situations that went down.  One slow-burn ended up fizzling out and one friendship fucking EXPLODED EVERYWHERE MONSTER FUCKING WRECK.  I would really like to just get the fuck over it already, but there’s no way to force these things, now is there?  And you know what is just not comforting when you’re suffering from some low-key boy-related drama?  Every damn soul around you falling in looooooooove.  Or at least liiiiiiiiiike.  Shut up and take it to the back row of the movie theater and leave me here in my moth-eaten faded wedding dress, staring at this moldering piece of cake or what-the-fuck-ever.  Yeah, yeah, I’ll be FINE.

So.  I’m sure you’re happy to see my sanity is just as intact as ever.

Hey there!  I’ve had a very busy past three weeks!  You?  …Oh, you want to hear about mine?  Well, how kind of you!  Tune into this:

The day after my last post, I and one of my future roommates found our apartment for next year.  MY GOD, how I wish I could move in after Christmas break, because I am so unbelievably ready to be up out of the dorms and into some place that is conducive to real-food-making.  I am typically not one of those people who is concerned with what she eats on any given day, but just listen to the straits that I am in: 2/3 of a parfait, Starbucks, and mozarella sticks intended to be cooked in an oven but actually amateurishly heated in a microwave instead.  IT IS 7:00 AT NIGHT.  Christ on a crutch, I just want a real meal!  I would even settle for being forced to make it myself in my own apartment, as long as it meant meat and potatoes!  So you can see why, after two and a half years of dorm life and dorm food, I am jonesing to move into that apartment, like, yesterday.

The week after was intense and hellish and unbelievable.  Like, just when I thought things could not get any worse, oh wait!  Something else climbed right on top of my load of stress and worry.  I had a major paper/project/exam/presentation every day all week and so was getting less than healthy amounts of sleep, was minorly sick, homesick out to HERE, dealing with apartment ridiculousness, worrying about my job, and ignoring a boy situation that needed to be addressed.  Have you ever had the type of interaction with someone where you go into it thinking, “Oh this is surely just a minor misunderstanding!  I am calm and capable and reasonable and will absolutely be able to deal with this situation effectively and in a timely fashion!” and then you talk to the other party involved and they are just BATSHIT CRAZY?!  I had one of those that week, one so bad where i got off the phone and hyperventilated a little, and then called my friend Morgan and laughed nervously/crazily, because if I didn’t do that I would have launched into hysterics, and I absolutely did not have time for that because I had to be at work in half an hour and hadn’t even eaten dinner yet and ohmygodcanijustbefiveagainthanks!  And then, a solution was offered to the situation, but it was the kind of solution where you’re like, “Well… that’s an option, sure, but it’s like asking me whether I’d rather go blind or deaf.  I know which one I’d choose, but I don’t really like or actively embrace either one”.  I remember lying in my bed on Friday, trying to cry silently because my roommate and her boyfriend were in the room being all cutesy and I just wanted them to leave so I could sleep, and I was stressed out about the aformentioned situation and just wanted to go home, but instead knew that I was going to her house that weekend for her birthday celebration and I would be expected to be happy and cheerful and fun, and those were three things I was not up to at all, all week long, and LORD was I ever a sloppy, sad mess. 

And then, because I strongly believe in the wheel of fortune taking people down and then bringing them right back up, nearly every issue that I had been struggling with that week resolved itself Friday evening.  Academically, socially, romantically, professionally, emotionally.  Better.  And we had a lovely time at my roommate’s home for the weekend, wherein floorboards were ripped up, Twister was played and bruises were accrued, real food was secured for all, babies were brought over, an old friend “surprised” us (except I totally knew beforehand that he was coming because I’m sneaky like that), camels appeared in a parade, awkward relationships were patched, and a LOT of fratty music was listened to.  It was precisely the weekend I wanted and needed after my week of stress from the depths of hell.

And then it was two short days of school and home for Thanksgiving break.  I didn’t get home til almost midnight Tuesday, but when I did, Letterman was on and Time magazines abounded, and one of the first things my dad did was assure me that the new hand-crafted Oriental area rug in our dining room “isn’t from no K-Mart parking lot” in a fake corn-pone voice.  I love home so much.  Break was absolutely perfect: I had a delicious Thanksgiving dinner, enjoyed listening to the men in my family watch football together more than I enjoyed the actual game, hung out with my sisters, went out Friday night, only to find myself in a hot tub in Brookville at two in the morning, drunk on wine, had waffles made for me the next day, slept late all the time, flipped my homework the bird, saw people at Coldstone and secured myself hours over Christmas break, and most importantly, was fed real food again some more.  Seriously, you’re underestimating the food situation here.  It is threat level orange. 

This week has kind of been full of minor annoyances and irritations, including rain on my drive home and the worst night of sleep last night I’ve ever had at school.  I literally slept in fits and starts and 20 minute catnaps for five hours.  But things are looking up, as they always do!  I didn’t have to work and am currently engaged in a Billy Madison quote-off with my friend Genna, and am now toying with the idea of lounging around and watching an old episode of Alias or something.  I’m working right now on really appreciating the fact that I have very few actual responsibilities in this world, and those that I do have are easily blown off or simple to deal with.  it won’t be like that much longer, so I might as well live it up while I can.  Stress is for people in the real world, and I’m not living there just yet, so I need to just chill the fuck out.

Mission accomplished, I think.

Catch Up

It doesn’t feel like it’s been a month and a half.  I don’t understand how time is just flying by so quickly this year.  I still feel like it ought to be the middle of February, not the end of March.  I think that’s a good sign.  I’m enjoying myself.  Even though I’ve been gone for a while, and even though I know I’ve been occupied, I cannot for the life of me tell you with what.  Uhhhhh, listening to Beyonce and Ludacris on my iPod?  Yes.  Swooning after several boys?  Oh my God, yes.  Pumping the brakes as hard as I can so that this semester doesn’t ever end because I love this place that I’m in?  Yes, even though it isn’t working.  I’m just busy being happy.  Here are some things I’ve been thinking about lately:

• My Morning Jacket’s “Lay Low” makes me want to long for someone.  It makes me feel like I’m falling for someone I could never have.  I don’t know why, but it just sounds like wanting.
• I found this scribbled in my little notepad I keep in my desk drawer: “Why hasn’t Keira Knightley done Shakespeare?!”  On the one hand, something about how indginant I am over KK’s lack of Shakespearean acting just makes me laugh.  On the other: for real, though.
• Also in the notepad is a note to myself: “Meredith- You will always miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.  Take this shot.”  You know, sometimes you just need a pep talk.  And even though that particular shot didn’t pan out the way I planned, I’m still gonna follow that advice.
• Can we talk about Lexi for a moment?  I don’t think I’ve written about her before, but Lord does she ever need to be written about… She’s my TA for my Bio 101 Lab, and honestly, the only positive thing I can say about her is that she hasn’t murdered anyone in her lifetime (to my knowledge).  She is condescending, rude, inconsistent, bitchy, immature, unprofessional, and all around unqualified to be teaching anyone anything, except maybe how to be an unapologetically heinous beast.  I mean, I feel juvenile saying I can’t wait to write a course eval for her, but it’s true.  I just want to give her the worst write-up for being a snot.  I don’t even know if that will affect her in any way, but it’s the only reourse I feel I have besides maybe being an ultra-bitch and talking to my lecture professor about her, which feels waaaaaaay too dramatic a step to take.  So instead, I’ll just bitch about the bitch here! 
• This is the worst thing I have seen in the month and a half I’ve been away from writing; my German professor showed it to us today during our discussion on art.  The second guy, the guy who lays his head on that block of… marble?  clay?  talcum? and then turns and breathes on it like the creepiest serial killer who ever walked the Earth is the artist we’re learning about in our chapter.  Once, he covered his head in goldleaf and honey and carried around a dead rabbit, talking to it and explaining pieces of art to it.  And called it an art installation.  Like, people actually came to a museum and watched it unfold.  What the fuck, Internet?  I was so fucking bershon about this in class today, I was legit rolling my eyes like a sullen teen.  I was pissed off.  Ha, and then my prof asked the class our opinions about it, and the exact people I had expected to like this pretentious, avant garde artsy bullshit were the ones saying “I think it’s wonderful because it holds such deep meaning for the artist” and “It’s very interesting and a unique way to express oneself outside of the normal artistic modes” and when my prof asked me all I could say was “Ich finde das sehr, sehr blod” because I don’t know the German for “drama-queeny”, “insane”, or “intolerable”.  I mean, what feelings could you possibly need to express through conversing with dead animals?  Isn’t that called having a personality disorder?
• It is crazy how into T.I. I am getting.
• My urge to drive, and the amount to which I miss driving around with the wondows down and my music up, has started to manifest itself in completely unnecessary walks around campus with my iPod.  Sometimes after classes, I don’t head directly back to the dorms, but instead loop all around campus, into the old section by the chapel and the administration building, then over by the graveyard and up the alley between Anderson and the BA building, and then home.  It’s exactly like the loops I used to drive after getting off work at night over the summer.  Sometimes I’m just not finished feeling the wind on my face or listening to my very favorite music.  I’m just not done being in motion.

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.

Basic Training

So tonight I talked to a really huge asshole on the phone who basically made me sit there fuming for a good half hour because he was telling me all this shit about not looking a gift horse in the mouth and patience wearing thin and how dare you even think about calling at Christmastime? because yeah, we do that just to piss you off, clearly that’s our aim when contacting alumni.  Right.  Anyway, so I thought I’d just go ahead and publish this, but do know that when I’m bitching about my job, it’s usually in good fun, because I know I got really lucky with this job coming to me out of left field and that financially, things could be alot worse for me and despite what some people may think (Charles), this is one pretty huge gift horse whose mouth I don’t want to look in.  And so I present:

Things I Have Learned While Working At The Fund:

• There seriously are people out there who do not have or use e-mail.  This is unimaginable to me.  I’m such a child of the 90′s.  I talked to one lady who graduated in the 50′s who didn’t even own a computer.  IT IS 2008, NOT THE STONE AGE.  What is with this, people?!
• There are people in this world who would prefer that you call them “B-rent” instead of “Brent”.  There are also people in this world are not going to call you that, ever.  Added bonus: This guy is most likely going to end up being my supervisor one day.
• Dude, people who graduated from here in the 70′s are basically all douches.
• Computer monitors from the 90′s?  Yeah, those’ll trigger a migraine.
• Some people do not like to be called during dinner.  I get this, I really do.  My family doesn’t like to be called during dinner, either.  You know what we do about that?  DON’T ANSWER THE PHONE, YOU 70′s ASSHOLE.
• Saying “I understand” is basically like swearing at someone on the phone.  Seriously, it’s a big no and that is not something I ever would have expected.
• People will really tell you the most personal things while trying to avoid giving you money.  You had a terrible four years here at the University because the faculty was too liberal for your liking?  Um, ok…?  You’re holding a vendetta against the University because we did away with our track team eight years ago, even though you graduated in 1976?  Sensible!  You’re getting a divorce?  Sorry to hear it, mostly because I DON’T EVEN KNOW YOU WHY ARE YOU TELLING ME THIS.
• Evidently, my phone voice is totally Palin-y.  Shit.
• I am not one of those people who will make their four-year-old record the answering machine message.  Not ever.
• I mean, I guess I basically already knew that people could get really, uh, creative with spelling and stuff, but today I dealt with someone whose e-mail address had to do with charisma@aol or whatever, except that for the “charisma” part, there were definitely z’s involved.
• I used to think that I had a lot of patience for graceless assholes, but now I find that I use up all of my patience for that particular type of person while at work, so that when I come home, I don’t have one iota of willpower to deal with someone who steps to me with shit.  Maybe I’m not as patient, then, as I thought?
• Tedious tasks are always made better by a great song running through your head.