23 February 2008
♥ living well is the best revenge.
A year ago today was the most miserable night of my life. Ironically, I'm happier now than I've ever been.
2/23/2008
21 February 2008
♥ things that make me hate this week:
Stupid mock trial.
Tryouts every day = I'm so sore.
Calculus. I hate calculus.
Musical = no friends til 10.
No car, fuck.
Announcements tomorrow, double fuck.
Can't find my World Lit 2 paper!
I. Hate. Everything.
Tryouts every day = I'm so sore.
Calculus. I hate calculus.
Musical = no friends til 10.
No car, fuck.
Announcements tomorrow, double fuck.
Can't find my World Lit 2 paper!
I. Hate. Everything.
2/21/2008
19 February 2008
♥ owwww
I hurt everywhere! Also, I miss my car... I already hate the next two weeks.
2/19/2008
18 February 2008
♥ iPod: ripped!
None of this British Shit Power. I can unabashedly listen to the sorts of shameful things I never would have requested to hear before. It's ever so nice to have music again.
2/18/2008
♥ a million years old but just a little girl.
I'm sitting in bed eating copious amounts of the chocolate Matt gave me for Valentine's Day. I keep thinking about how I wish the wind would die down so I could go for a run; I haven't done a damn thing in four days and I feel positively obese.
There is no one else home, and the wind is beating against the sides of our little old house. It sounds pretty violent out there. My plants all look kind of dead, even though I swear I haven't forgotten to water them in weeks. They're counteracting my attempts to freshen up my room by making it look like I just kill anything that comes in here.
Overall, today is not a particularly enjoyable day. The four-day weekend is over tomorrow, meaning we have to get back to stupid school and all the work that comes with it. I feel lethargic and unattractive and generally repulsive in every sense of the word.
But then I look at the chocolates, my greatest weakness, and I remember something. Not only does it occur to me that the light AND dark ones with the white chocolate squiggles on top have cherry filling, mmm, but also that sometimes we find the loveliest things in the most unexpected of places.
I never expected to meet someone I would fall completely head over heels for while bagging groceries at King Sooper's. Not exactly the most romantic and poignant love story, but enduring nonetheless. I never expected I would meet someone there who would not only bring me chocolate (dammit) and flowers and cute teddy bears on Valentine's Day, but also do that thing I always hoped someone would do--remember every other day of the year.
I'm into grand gestures, which was probably why my first real relationship lasted as long as it did. I like when someone makes a big deal over my birthday or brings me flowers after we fight or on our little month-iversaries or for no reason at all. I like being surprised with coffee at work and brought presents just because. I like stuff like that, which is probably why my next relationship turned out to be a bust for both of us: I expected in general; he expected fewer expectations. Tragic.
But there is something here I've never felt before. There are no expectations. There is no pressure. There are no lies or secrets, there is no cheating, there is no reason for anyone not to trust anyone else. I've never felt more like someone really loved me for exactly who I am, not just for who I'm not or what they wish I was.
I love that he remembered Valentine's Day. I love that he made a big deal of it. But what I really, really love, even more than these damn chocolates I can't stop eating, is that he loves me just as much every other day of the year. I love that I have finally found someone who doesn't make me cry on holidays, or when things aren't going his way, or just because he can.
I love that even if we didn't meet in a cute, story-you-tell-your-grandkids kind of way, I'm in the happiest, healthiest relationship I've ever been in, and that six months later, jokes about our potentially gay supervisor Vance and proper bagging technique are still fair game.
I love that love comes to me a lot more easily now than I ever thought it would again. I love that even when I can't stop eating chocolate, which I can't, I'm still pretty content with my lot in life.
I love that no matter what happens next year, I've met someone I'll want to never forget, no matter what.
There is no one else home, and the wind is beating against the sides of our little old house. It sounds pretty violent out there. My plants all look kind of dead, even though I swear I haven't forgotten to water them in weeks. They're counteracting my attempts to freshen up my room by making it look like I just kill anything that comes in here.
Overall, today is not a particularly enjoyable day. The four-day weekend is over tomorrow, meaning we have to get back to stupid school and all the work that comes with it. I feel lethargic and unattractive and generally repulsive in every sense of the word.
But then I look at the chocolates, my greatest weakness, and I remember something. Not only does it occur to me that the light AND dark ones with the white chocolate squiggles on top have cherry filling, mmm, but also that sometimes we find the loveliest things in the most unexpected of places.
I never expected to meet someone I would fall completely head over heels for while bagging groceries at King Sooper's. Not exactly the most romantic and poignant love story, but enduring nonetheless. I never expected I would meet someone there who would not only bring me chocolate (dammit) and flowers and cute teddy bears on Valentine's Day, but also do that thing I always hoped someone would do--remember every other day of the year.
I'm into grand gestures, which was probably why my first real relationship lasted as long as it did. I like when someone makes a big deal over my birthday or brings me flowers after we fight or on our little month-iversaries or for no reason at all. I like being surprised with coffee at work and brought presents just because. I like stuff like that, which is probably why my next relationship turned out to be a bust for both of us: I expected in general; he expected fewer expectations. Tragic.
But there is something here I've never felt before. There are no expectations. There is no pressure. There are no lies or secrets, there is no cheating, there is no reason for anyone not to trust anyone else. I've never felt more like someone really loved me for exactly who I am, not just for who I'm not or what they wish I was.
I love that he remembered Valentine's Day. I love that he made a big deal of it. But what I really, really love, even more than these damn chocolates I can't stop eating, is that he loves me just as much every other day of the year. I love that I have finally found someone who doesn't make me cry on holidays, or when things aren't going his way, or just because he can.
I love that even if we didn't meet in a cute, story-you-tell-your-grandkids kind of way, I'm in the happiest, healthiest relationship I've ever been in, and that six months later, jokes about our potentially gay supervisor Vance and proper bagging technique are still fair game.
I love that love comes to me a lot more easily now than I ever thought it would again. I love that even when I can't stop eating chocolate, which I can't, I'm still pretty content with my lot in life.
I love that no matter what happens next year, I've met someone I'll want to never forget, no matter what.
2/18/2008
17 February 2008
♥ dancing the night away
is just as much fun as it sounds.
2/17/2008
13 February 2008
♥ my friend luke
is probably the most hilarious person ever. Please enjoy him.
2/13/2008
♥ my history IA
is ruining my life. I can't sleep again until it's done, which sucks, because that might never happen.
2/13/2008
12 February 2008
♥ ...how to save a life.
Where did I go wrong?
I lost a friend
somewhere along in the bitterness
and I would have stayed up
all night, had I known...
2/12/2008
11 February 2008
♥ why so many threes?
I dunno. Lots of repetition makes me less cranky, maybe. Usually. Not tonight.
2/11/2008
♥ mad, mad, mad
I am mad. Just mad. Not sad, not upset, not overtired. Mad.
Grow up.
Grow up.
2/11/2008
10 February 2008
♥ why, why, why?!
Do boys really have to be this confusing?
2/10/2008
♥ la la la
Homework? What homework? No big... Not a big deal. Not gonna do it.
...I have to do it.
...I have to do it.
2/10/2008
♥ me too.
2/10/2008
09 February 2008
♥ a prom dress i should rather like to have:
Oh skanky dress,
You are skanky, but I look better in you than I do in most dresses, and I actually dropped a dress size, making you all the more appealing. *Sigh* Why are you so expensive, and why do I already have a prom dress?! Ugh...
2/09/2008
06 February 2008
♥ it's really great
Sometimes my parents can be real assholes.
2/06/2008
♥ my abs hurt
I'm beginning to think it's not conditioning that's killing me, but that maybe on my way to my car, someone drugged me and beat me with a sledgehammer. I'm pretty sure this is what that would feel like.
But for some reason, I can't wait to go again on Friday.
But for some reason, I can't wait to go again on Friday.
2/06/2008
05 February 2008
♥ a few thoughts for the day:
I'm having a tough time getting started on my homework, and I think it's because I can't concentrate since I have so many pointless thoughts bouncing around in my head. Here's what's bugging me today:
1. Post-Superbowl slams on Tom Brady. Don't get me wrong; I'm no die-hard Patriots fan. In fact, I wouldn't even really consider myself a fan at all. It would have been nice to see a perfect season, but to be perfectly honest with you, I don't care enough about football to give it much thought. What really bugs me, though, is Giants fans who insist on slamming Tom Brady. You can call him a "pretty boy," you can say he's no good, you can say you saw this coming. But what you're forgetting, Brady-haters, is that while you may have your Superbowl rings, Tom Brady has one thing--one really, really sexy thing--that no Giant has: Gisele Bundchen. We all have off nights, but it looks to me like Tom Brady is man enough for the most beautiful woman employed by Victoria's Secret. (And, more importantly, for me, Superbowl win or no.)
2. Super Tuesday. It's not the act of caucusing that really bothers me; it's the word used to describe it. For instance, on the way home today, I heard a commercial on 93.3 for Barack Obama. Please understand that I don't have a problem with Obama; in fact, I plan on voting for him at the caucus, and with a little luck, again in November. I think it's really important to get people involved in the political system, but I digress. When dear old Barack came on the radio and informed his listeners that "I want you caucusing for me!" I must admit, I was somewhat shocked at the aesthetics of his statement. It just doesn't sound pretty. Aside from that, though, I have one major problem with this year's presidential election, and it can be described in two words--Ron Paul. All I can say is this: whoever edits Mr. Paul's ads in the Rocky should be fired. Actually, no, scratch that. Ron Paul should be fired. My dog will run in his place. I think he is much more qualified to lead the free world.
3. Period guilt. Who doesn't hate that time of the month? Boys hate it because it means they're dealing with PMS from any females in their lives for approximately 25% of their lifetimes, probably more if you consider that they run into women at school, home, work, etc. whose periods come at all different times of the month. Girls hate it because it means cramping, bloating, irritability, and the like. But now I have an additional reason to hate the monthly loss of my uteran lining: guilt! Thanks to the latest campaign by some pantiliner company or another, I have to actually feel like a jerk for not having to miss school during my period. I guess it makes sense that in poor African villages, nobody has Kotex or anything, so girls have to miss so much school due to their periods that they eventually drop out. Bummer, right? But the problem remains on the home front. I don't understand why people don't shower me with gifts and tell me I don't seem irritable at all during my monthly nightmare, and having to feel selfish for not living in a rural village in Zimbabwe is not helping my demeanor. I propose a new solution: in addition to helping alleviate the problem of the African period-related dropout rate by donating supplies, let's fund research for eliminating PMS and general period-related unpleasantness.
Oh, and one more thing. Why are there still three months and nineteen days until graduation?
1. Post-Superbowl slams on Tom Brady. Don't get me wrong; I'm no die-hard Patriots fan. In fact, I wouldn't even really consider myself a fan at all. It would have been nice to see a perfect season, but to be perfectly honest with you, I don't care enough about football to give it much thought. What really bugs me, though, is Giants fans who insist on slamming Tom Brady. You can call him a "pretty boy," you can say he's no good, you can say you saw this coming. But what you're forgetting, Brady-haters, is that while you may have your Superbowl rings, Tom Brady has one thing--one really, really sexy thing--that no Giant has: Gisele Bundchen. We all have off nights, but it looks to me like Tom Brady is man enough for the most beautiful woman employed by Victoria's Secret. (And, more importantly, for me, Superbowl win or no.)
2. Super Tuesday. It's not the act of caucusing that really bothers me; it's the word used to describe it. For instance, on the way home today, I heard a commercial on 93.3 for Barack Obama. Please understand that I don't have a problem with Obama; in fact, I plan on voting for him at the caucus, and with a little luck, again in November. I think it's really important to get people involved in the political system, but I digress. When dear old Barack came on the radio and informed his listeners that "I want you caucusing for me!" I must admit, I was somewhat shocked at the aesthetics of his statement. It just doesn't sound pretty. Aside from that, though, I have one major problem with this year's presidential election, and it can be described in two words--Ron Paul. All I can say is this: whoever edits Mr. Paul's ads in the Rocky should be fired. Actually, no, scratch that. Ron Paul should be fired. My dog will run in his place. I think he is much more qualified to lead the free world.
3. Period guilt. Who doesn't hate that time of the month? Boys hate it because it means they're dealing with PMS from any females in their lives for approximately 25% of their lifetimes, probably more if you consider that they run into women at school, home, work, etc. whose periods come at all different times of the month. Girls hate it because it means cramping, bloating, irritability, and the like. But now I have an additional reason to hate the monthly loss of my uteran lining: guilt! Thanks to the latest campaign by some pantiliner company or another, I have to actually feel like a jerk for not having to miss school during my period. I guess it makes sense that in poor African villages, nobody has Kotex or anything, so girls have to miss so much school due to their periods that they eventually drop out. Bummer, right? But the problem remains on the home front. I don't understand why people don't shower me with gifts and tell me I don't seem irritable at all during my monthly nightmare, and having to feel selfish for not living in a rural village in Zimbabwe is not helping my demeanor. I propose a new solution: in addition to helping alleviate the problem of the African period-related dropout rate by donating supplies, let's fund research for eliminating PMS and general period-related unpleasantness.
Oh, and one more thing. Why are there still three months and nineteen days until graduation?
2/05/2008
04 February 2008
♥ i forgot
how good it feels to be totally exhausted for all the right reasons. Conditioning was hard and I'm pretty out of shape, despite my near-daily attempts to firm up that butt, but I love the idea that by prom, I will be a raging ball of muscle and lacrosse badassness. Well... "Ball" doesn't quite sum up my intentions. I would prefer to be a thin, waif-like stick of sexiness. Um... This analysis of my future hotness isn't really working out. Maybe it's the lack of blood in my brain, because I think it's all in my lobster-colored face.
2/04/2008
03 February 2008
♥ being a girl > being a boy
I love:
♥ America's Next Top Model marathons on MTV.
♥ Painting my nails while watching aforementioned marathon.
♥ Cosmopolitan.
♥ Facials in the comfort of my room.
♥ Truffles. I really love truffles.
♥ New clothes.
♥ Boys. Boys, boys, boys. (Especially Tom Brady.)
♥ Sunday afternoons when I have nothing better to do than wallow in my girliness. =]
♥ America's Next Top Model marathons on MTV.
♥ Painting my nails while watching aforementioned marathon.
♥ Cosmopolitan.
♥ Facials in the comfort of my room.
♥ Truffles. I really love truffles.
♥ New clothes.
♥ Boys. Boys, boys, boys. (Especially Tom Brady.)
♥ Sunday afternoons when I have nothing better to do than wallow in my girliness. =]
2/03/2008
♥ the patriots have:
Need I go on? I think Tom Brady's extreme sexiness is enough for me.
2/03/2008
♥ it seems to me that maybe
pretty much always means no.
And I wasn't even that definitive. I don't understand what's keeping you from leaving me alone, because by my calculations, you forgot any of this ever happened a long, long time ago. There are some things I'm not quite ready to forget, but that I wish you'd stop reminding me of.
2/03/2008
02 February 2008
♥ six more weeks of winter
means I'm stuck in this funk for another month and a half. I hate winter.
Happy Groundhog Day.
Happy Groundhog Day.
2/02/2008
