31 August 2008
♥ it would probably help
if I didn't worry so much. I think a little independence will be good for me, and I should probably learn to resist the urge to ask a million questions and say "I miss you" a million times and worry all the time.
Still, it's hard not to be afraid when you think history is about to repeat itself, only this time it would be a million times worse.
8/31/2008
28 August 2008
♥ if i had my own world
I'd build you an empire
8/28/2008
27 August 2008
♥ and that's definitely not gonna work now.
Confession: In high school, I never read the books. I just used Sparknotes.
8/27/2008
25 August 2008
♥ my college experience thus far--a rather long haiku
My roommate might be
the biggest alcoholic
I have encountered.
I mean, serious?
An MIP the first night?!
That's freaking crazy.
But at least that night
she actually came home
and did not have sex.
Which, for the record,
she did in our room last night.
While I was in there.
Classes have started!
Behold the jam-packed classrooms
brimming with freshmen.
After my first class
I met some Bible-beaters:
"The world ends tonight!"
This, apparently,
is not the case--I'm still here.
I hurried away.
This is all still new
and I don't like leaving home
but in Boulder, they're real nice
and pedestrians
can cross the street whenever
it strikes their fancy.
8/25/2008
24 August 2008
♥ if only best friends were on the list of permitted dorm pets!
I wish Kayla could fit in a ten-gallon tank, but alas; only fish, turtles, and hermit crabs seem to be able to thrive in such a habitat. No one else gets it quite like she does, and I am certain that no matter how many great new friends I make, none will really match up.
8/24/2008
22 August 2008
♥ this is getting a little pathetic
I really miss my boyfriend.
8/22/2008
21 August 2008
♥ mysteries of the universe
There are some things in life that are pretty much impossible to understand, like why genocide is ever allowed to happen or why my building is the only one on the CU campus that doesn't have wireless internet. Apparently college is the bearer of many such mysteries, because I can't seem to figure out when my first floor meeting is or where I pick up my mail. Actually, the main reason I'm writing this is not so much because I'm so confused about what to do, but more because I don't like introducing myself to strangers and my floor is currently overrun with them, prompting me to hole up in my room. (Please note that I have not broken the cardinal rule of residence hall living; my door is wide open.) I still can't figure out why I don't look like Blake Lively or why Marco and Ellie made out on last week's Degrassi, but I guess I should probably go make some new friends.
8/21/2008
20 August 2008
♥ it feels weird to be on my own
I'm concerned that no one will be around to make me eat fresh fruits or wake me up in time for class.
8/20/2008
18 August 2008
♥ [untitled]
I have been thinking all summer about how I will mark this day, this greatest and most independent day of my life thus far, on the blog that saw me through high school and perhaps some of the summer before it began. And today, tonight, has been exactly right, exactly perfect, exactly not what I expected but desperately hoped for.
With all my stuff around me, the pink lamp and the little terrarium with the coconut hut and the box of Cheerios I haven't found a place for yet, I am not sure if this feels like home or a hotel or a prolonged post-party crash site that I can't find a way to escape from. I'm not used to the noises of people tromping in at all hours (even before the hall is full of smelly boys) and the traffic (which I can't believe is still going on at this hour) and the skateboards, of which there seem to be millions in this town.
I was terrified when my mom left and suddenly, in two seconds flat, I was all alone. I wandered to the Quad and insisted to myself that I would be cheerful and make friends no matter what, even if it meant embarassing myself by going all-out in a stupid team-building game. I thought Donna was sort of obnoxious, telling all these stories about being all alone in India. I didn't believe her; she reminded me of a certain ex-boyfriend of mine, who is a pathological liar.
Cut to tonight, the end of the longest day of my life, when we bid Nick the Mentor goodnight and march off towards my building, where my new friends are to help me bring some groceries up to my room from my car. I hope that will be the end of it and we're off to get a good night's sleep (for Christ's sakes, it's 9:45 already!), but no such luck. Kim wants another smoke (American Spirits--are those really better for you?), and we wander off to her building, where I run into Rick with a birthday cake, how has he gotten so pleasant? He's lost weight, too, and he's real friendly, and for a second I am looking at the Rick I convinced to take me to prom, and then crushed when I couldn't get over myself long enough to see that I had found someone who liked me for ME, exactly me, even if he didn't know me well enough to see that some of me is not what you want to date. But alas, it's been a year and a half and he still seems to loathe me, and I can't just come out now and say all that shit I just wrote to him because he would think I'm an idiot, and you know what? I kind of am.
But I ended up with Matt, and he's pretty much perfect, and he's nice to me like Rick was, only it's just right because he really gets me, you know? Not just in a how I like my coffee way, in a what I want out of life way. Though the coffee one too, not coffee specifically although I'm guessing he would know I like a vanilla latte (skinny, duh) in the winter and a caramel frap no whip in the summer, more like if I went to the bathroom as we were ordering drinks he would get me an iced tea if I felt fat (he can always tell, why does he put up with me?) or a coke if I was kind of nervous (it tastes better with calories) which happens a lot lately, since I've been thinking about this very day a lot, or a diet coke if I am just feeling normal. That kind of thing. He says if we break up it will be because I get sick of him or something, but I don't think we will. I don't know what else I could want! Maybe I am being naive, but I think there are worse things to be. But still, I feel bad about Rick.
My hermit crab, Bert II (the first one only lasted three days before two of his legs fell off, which apparently in crustacean-ese signifies death), is climbing all over the little coconut hut and the cute little ceramic swimming pool I bought him and filled with distilled water so they weren't poisoned by noxious chlorine, and I can't believe how entertained I am by this little tiny creature that doesn't seem to be eat much more than one of those little pellets you feed rabbits and guinea pigs in a day. How big are their stomachs? Do they have stomachs? Do they have brains? What a tiny brain!
But anyway, we saw a fox try to kill a goose after we ran into Rick, did I mention that went well? Not for the fox though, I screamed--"Oh my GAWD!"--and the goose realized its life was in danger and hopped into the pond. Can foxes swim? If so, apparently they can't hunt and swim at the same time, because Canada P. Goose escaped with his life, thanks to me.
Then we went back to the Hill, even though we already went there to smoke hookah with Nick the Mentor, and Donna led us to the convenience store that is open and makes subs or hummus or something until 2 a.m., and while Kim and I were talking about how delicious those Snickers ice cream things sound, Donna went up and introduced us to a guy and his girlfriend, Kristy, who he says is the best girlfriend in the world, which is really sweet, and he said meet him outside and we'd go to his friend's house and work something out.
Twenty minutes later, we're heading into this little house that is like a block from campus and I am scolding myself for being surprised that these four snowboarders can afford the rent there, I'm so judgemental! I should work on that. But anyway, then we're in Donna's van, and the windows are closed and I'm ready for bed but I go along with it anyway, and I even end up paying her $10 as we depart, because I figure it's good to make friends and she'll think I'm an asshole if I just let her pay for everything.
But in the van, suddenly her curls look more bouncy and alive than before, and her stories are inspiring and I can't believe that she is so independent ("I don't want any safety nets!" she proclaims), and I feel really, really lucky. Donna is kind of a hippie and Kim has blue hair and her lip pierced, and I am nothing like either of them. I work at Abercrombie & Fitch, for Christ's sakes. Why are they accepting me? Donna says she doesn't believe there's any such thing as a hippie or a prep and all that. She says we're all kind of the same, in most ways. She said it much better. Each decision she makes seems sort of big and life-changing, and I await her response knowing that whatever it is, I will be impressed.
I love college so far, but I'm not sure how my first sleeping experience will be. In any case, this will all look really stupid and probably incoherent this is in the morning, but I think I am obligated to leave it up. I have to remember this day somehow, and I guess I'm stuck with this. I am no Hunter S. Thompson, but I am ready to begin the rest of my life, and I think I'm up for whatever comes with it.
8/18/2008
16 August 2008
♥ mainly because my mom is not a psycho
Sometimes it is impossible for me to believe that my mother and her sister are related.
8/16/2008
15 August 2008
♥ my cousins are in town
and I have been on my best behavior so far, but I'm not sure how much longer that will last.
8/15/2008
13 August 2008
♥ three more days until the rest of my life
I am so unbelievably nervous I think I might actually pee my pants.
8/13/2008
12 August 2008
♥ a very productive day indeed!
Today I:
--voted for the first time (Joan Fitz-Gerald!)
--bought two hermit crabs (Burt and Heather; ten points if you can name that movie)
--set up my new computer
--worked five hours
--got everything I could possibly need for my dorm
And I am exhausted!
8/12/2008
03 August 2008
♥ things i hate about my job:
5) Recruiting. My manager says that when someone attractive comes through your line, you're supposed to say, "Stop. You're hot. You need to work here." I can't bring myself to sink to that level of lameness.
4) Taglines. "Hey, what's going on?" "Did you check out our fragrance 41?" At least those are better than this summer's tagline, which fortunately we no longer have to use: "Get wet in our new bikinis!" Gag.
3) Shitty music. Think of every song you hate, then remix each of them so they sound even worse. That is our soundtrack, and it lasts an hour and a half. This means that each time I work, I have to hear the "Hot Like Me" remix three times. More gagging.
2) Minimum wage. Between taxes, gas prices, and crappy scheduling, it's hard to believe anyone can make a decent living at $7.02 an hour.
1) Customers. Here's a marketing suggestion for A&F: let's send catalogs out to all prospective shoppers. They can choose what they want, and, for a nominal fee, send a professional shopper to the store to make their purchases. Said shopper will not ask stupid questions, leave unwanted items in a rumpled heap on the fitting room floors, or complain about the volume of the music (which is, in fact, too loud), thereby increasing productivity on the sales floor and keeping me from going beserk.
4) Taglines. "Hey, what's going on?" "Did you check out our fragrance 41?" At least those are better than this summer's tagline, which fortunately we no longer have to use: "Get wet in our new bikinis!" Gag.
3) Shitty music. Think of every song you hate, then remix each of them so they sound even worse. That is our soundtrack, and it lasts an hour and a half. This means that each time I work, I have to hear the "Hot Like Me" remix three times. More gagging.
2) Minimum wage. Between taxes, gas prices, and crappy scheduling, it's hard to believe anyone can make a decent living at $7.02 an hour.
1) Customers. Here's a marketing suggestion for A&F: let's send catalogs out to all prospective shoppers. They can choose what they want, and, for a nominal fee, send a professional shopper to the store to make their purchases. Said shopper will not ask stupid questions, leave unwanted items in a rumpled heap on the fitting room floors, or complain about the volume of the music (which is, in fact, too loud), thereby increasing productivity on the sales floor and keeping me from going beserk.
8/03/2008
