Getting It Off My Chest

You know, sometimes it just sucks being a hormonal twenty-five year old who has never been kissed. Learning anything to do with relationships or the process of such is infuriatingly difficult. Primarily because of myself.

I tend to put myself in the worst situations as possible. Some would call it brave, but others would call it complete and utter stupidity. I, myself, believe in the latter.

The moment someone of the opposite sex just vaguely participates in the act of flirting, my immediate thoughts are sent up the track to the part of my brain that overreacts. [And, let me tell you, that's a large part of my brain]. They like me. They're interested. There's no way they couldn't be, right? Ok. Let's give it a go and flirt back.

Nope.

I begin to push, to prod, to bother, to bug, to dream and create impractical scenarios, and ultimately push said object of affection to the farthest corner of the universe, make a fool of myself, or disappoint myself to the point of breakdown.

You say to yourself, "Get over it. You're not in high school anymore. Grow up."

And I could not agree more. I can't keep using my clinically diagnosed depression or severe anxiety disorder as an excuse. But unless you experience my thought process and how depression or anxiety affect you, you don't really understand. And that's fine.

I am no longer a twenty-five year old that's never been kissed. And yet I'm still so unhappy...

Everyone deserves a chance. Even me. You cannot allow yourself to dwell on someone who will probably never love you back. No matter how many people you sleep with while you wait, it's not going to make you happy. In fact, it's poisonous. Your self-esteem will continue to plummet until you're curled up in the fetal position under a bench in King's Cross Train Station, looking like the shriveled up mass of 1/7 of Voldemort's soul.

And yes; it always comes back to Harry Potter.

I'm feeling a little better now. Also, long time no post. Perhaps I'll be back soon...

Nox.

P.S. This wasn't to upset or anger anyone in particular. I just had to share how I feel. I, myself, am not angry with anyone but myself. :)

Oh, that's right...

I kind of forgot I had this. I'm thinking I should start writing again. You know, since I'm a college drop out and make next to nothing being a pharmacy technician. Hoping that will change soon, but I can't ever make those kinds of promises.

That being said, don't ask me how school's going. It's depressing when I have to go through the fact that, you know, I'm not in school. -_-

Here's what I'd like to be:
- Pepper Potts
- Sherlock's Watson
- The Doctor's companion
- An auror
- An Elven warrior
- An Avenger
- The heiress to Downton Abbey
- The droids that you're not looking for


All completely practical, right? ;]

No, but really. I'll get my stuff together. My anxiety kind of keeps me from looking into the future too much. I guess I shouldn't really use that as an excuse, but if you knew the true, ugly side effects of anxiety, you'd live for the moment, too. xD

Anyway, I'm watching Iron Man right now, and RDJ is being awfully distracting. Pepper is one LUCKY lady!

Tomorrow, I want to go to the gym. Someone make sure I follow through with that. Make me feel REALLY bad about it. And they close at 7pm, so start early. :]

Moon Child

Alright, so, I've never put much stock in Zodiac. Ok, I've never put ANY stock in it. I always let Kasey read my horoscope to me from her phone after she reads hers and make fun of the fact that it calls me "Moon Child," but within the last couple of weeks, I started following The Official Cancer Page on Twitter. Just for sh*ts and giggles. 

Whoever manages that page has first hand access to the very depths of my being. I'd say "soul," but I'm a redhead, and everyone knows we don't have those. Anyway, it creeps me out.

The things The Official Cancer Page tweets are terrifyingly accurate. Naturally, I'm going to follow this up with a few examples. , so, I've never put much stock in Zodiac/horoscope-ness. Ok, I've never put ANY stock in it. I always let Kasey read my horoscope to me from her phone after she reads hers and make fun of the fact that it calls me "Moon Child," but within the last couple of weeks, I started following The Official Cancer Page on Twitter. Just for sh*ts and giggles. 

Whoever manages that page has first hand access to the very depths of my being. I'd say "soul," but I'm a redhead, and everyone knows we don't have those. Anyway, it creeps me out.

The things The Official Cancer Page tweets are terrifyingly accurate. Naturally, I'm going to follow this up with a few examples. 

Completely true. I was just telling my pharmacist today, that peoples' moods influence my own. If he gets stressed and starts to panic on a busy night, I'll more likely than not follow suit. I wish I didn't, but I do. And I promise, it's annoying. (Also, it's #cancers "don't," but we'll ignore that. ;])

This is extremely true. I get so worried/anxious that I get physically sick. Even with the smallest things.

Yep. I was one of the very FEW kids in school that hid under the lunchroom tables and wanted to vomit during school fights. Even now, when I see them on tv or YouTube (ex: the Waffle House video) I get absolutely sick to my stomach when I know something bad will happen. 

Just ask, well, all of my friends. I don't like to go out to bars or whatever. I like to spend time at home 90% of the time. And, uh... yeah... I'm moody, for sure.

Um, pfhahdfjdwfej! BINGO.

I'm sure this goes for many, cancers or no, but still very true.

Paranoid. One of the exact words I use to describe myself. This couldn't be any more accurate.

Always.

HAHA! Guilty! My mother can attest... 

Friends always come to me with advice. Even with things I've never even experienced, aka relationships. And I'm always willing to help. 

This goes for Cancers AND redheads. Double threat. Double the unhappiness. #watchit 

TRUTH. Unless you're Canadian, apparently... -looks at Sarah guiltily, yet appreciatively all the same-

Yep. Uh huh. Definitely. See? It creeps me OUT. 

All the time. I hate asking for things. Hate. It. I also can't tell a guy I like him very easily, though that whole "saying without speaking" thing gets me in trouble there, but the rejection is always the same. Don't deal with it well AT ALL.

Not to toot my own horn, but uh... -hair toss- Duh. ;)

I have about a million story plots rotting in my brain. And I daydream constantly. Which is why I'd like to be on Adderall/Vyvanse, Mom... #cantfocus

Yes, yes, a MILLION times, yes. I can't help it. If it doesn't feel right, I can't do it. No sparks, no go. 

Could not have said it better about myself. I just need "Somebody to LOOOOOOOOVEEEEEEEE!!!!!" Thanks, Freddie M. for that 1 second of inspiration.

Well, yeah! ;) 

Accurate.

This list could last forever. I'm just saying that maybe... well... Maybe the Horoscope deal isn't so stupid. I'm not saying I'm going to worship it by any means, but dang; that's some pretty spot on stuff. I love it. 

Anyway, I just thought I'd share. And maybe this will get me a shout out. Oh, wait, my Twitter's protected... buh.

Episode Two: The Dating Game

Okay, so this one I HAD to share. At the end of Daniel's recital rehearsal, I got this message from an individual on Plenty of Fish. I literally doubled over in laughter. Oddly enough, I didn't find it offensive at all. It was just freaking hilarious.


Subject: I don't think you look fat.


And Gingers are the best.


Also, I can't even express how cool it is that you're on a paranormal investigation team.


Alright. Kudos for using punctuation and knowing how to capitalize letters. But, man! That subject line! HAHA!!! That is the BEST worst pick-up line I have ever heard in my life. I'm still laughing!


Lol, ooohhhh, that's rich. xD And yeah. I'm a B.A. investigator. Thank you for noticing. :)


Haha... I don't think you look fat...xD xD xD

The Quite Amusing "Dating Game"

Within the last week, I have taken it upon myself to sign up for a dating site. No, I'm not desperate, and no, I'm not looking for anyone to jump out and be "the one." Because, let's face it, that's stupid and unrealistic. But since I'm not a big bar/club person, I figure it's just another way to get myself out there, and to SEE what's out there. As much as I love my guy friends, the majority of them don't bat for my team, so one must take certain measures, though neither drastic or desperate.


As you would guess, there are a lot of idiots on dating sites. I have plainly described to them what I'm looking for a guy, (specifically NO REDNECKS) and lo and behold, that's the majority of what I've been getting. I tell myself that it's okay, don't get frustrated; they just can't read. Oh yeah, and you have to be able to read and write in complete sentences as well. Call me snobby all you want. But I can't spend the rest of my life with someone who exudes EVERY pet peeve that I could possibly possess.


So, in response, I'm doing a blog series.


In my next few posts, I will be sharing with you ACTUAL messages that I receive from the most idiotic of my "suitors." And then I will proceed with an answer that I actually gave them, or one that I would have liked to give them, but didn't, because I didn't want to break their poor, simple spirits.


Please don't take offense if you're my friend and you're all of the above. I still love you, but it's merely platonic. :) So! First crazy message for the blog, but certainly not the first one I've received.


Subject: Hey cutie


How are you? I'm Mike. I like redheads myself. ;)


Ok, so it's not terrible. And definitely not the worst.


#1: I am not your "cutie." You don't refer to me by anything other than my name until we are passed the dating phase. And I use the term "we" loosely. It's called respect.


#2: If you're 10 years or older than me, I really do apologize, but it's kind of creepy to me. Maybe not when I myself am a few years older, but right now at 23, more often than not, we're in COMPLETELY different stages of life.


#3: How many times must I tell you I don't like the camo, the hunting, the chewing tobacco crap? It's written all over your profile, and you're wearing at least one piece of camo in every shot. I'm no PETA crazed cave woman, but I just don't like the idea of hunting. You can argue with me all you'd like. It's just how I feel, and it's only my opinion.


#4: Don't wink at me. You don't know me like that.


The best one I've gotten so far was a 35 year old politician who asked me if I wanted a boyfriend that could spoil me. And believe me... homeboy had to be in his 40's at the very LEAST. No, SIR, I don't want a sugar daddy. Matt Cornelson is my only sugar daddy. ;) So really, it's been a lot more fun watching how incredibly awkward and creepy these people are.


But I have met some really nice guys. Yes, I'm being careful. And I'm about as trusting as a mouse in a den of lions wanting to "play." I'm not stupid. I promise. These people are lucky if I give them my name.


"Never trust anything that can think for itself if you can't see where it keeps its brain." - J.K. Rowling


And ladies, you NEVER know with men... ahem...


Love & stuff. :)


P.S. I'm not a snob. The site says the same things! Here's their picture...

LONGEST. BLOG. EVER.

"I may cry when I see you…"

NOTHING could EVER match the bond that Katherine Elizabeth Gates and I have. NOTHING. She is forever and always my best friend in the entire world, and my sister even longer than that. 

And she comes home in ONE WEEK. One could never express my joy.

-----------------

So, here's the story, here's the thing…

1. I don't really like the other blog venue. I'm not a big fan of change with most things, and I guess this was just one of them. I already have my followers here, so there's no use in making my mom create a whole other profile just so that she can keep up with me. No sense in it at all.

So here I am.

2. I may or may not have pulled an all-nighter. You're thinking, "Oh, no big deal, an all-nighter, whatevs. Incorrect. I love my sleep. Sleep comes before school. If I get tired while I'm studying, or doing homework, I drop the crap and go to bed. Twisted priorities maybe, but my passion has nothing to do with ecological food pyramids or the fact that the ugly shrubbery found all over Australia is called Mallee Scrub and is related to Eucalyptus. I'm over school, and I'm burnt out. 

At any rate, I truly enjoyed my Developmental Psych class. Dr. Parker is to me my version of Professor Lupin, who would have undoubtedly been my favorite professor, had I been fortunate enough to have gotten my letter to Hogwarts. But that's a delicate subject and besides the point. Dr. Parker made class interesting and fun, and the man KNOWS what he teaches about, inside and out, and loves every single minute of it. 

So, yeah. For HIS exam, I stayed up. All night. Partly with Scott and ALL night with Justin. Here's what happened, strangely detailed:

At 9pm (Tuesday), I got off work, went home, gathered my things (as well as Kasey), and headed to the library. On the way, we stopped at a gas station to get my 32 oz of caffeine and one of those little packs of chocolate donuts. You know, the $0.89 ones. I hadn't had dinner, and it was all I could afford. So there.

At the 'brary, Kasey and I meet up with Scott at the little cafe section, and we chat and eat, and I succeed in finishing the 32 oz drink, so I buy another to pour in mah cup. 9:45 rolls around, and Justin joins the fun. He, Scott, and I are all in the same class. We sit there for a moment longer so Justin can eat his Subway, and then we head up to the 2nd floor to find a study room. Successful, we were. There we found some explicit things written on the windows of the room in dry erase marker. Many giggles were had. Delirium was already setting in. 

As soon as Scott and I got our notes up on MyBama, we were totes in a serious study haze. Justin went in and out, and Kasey and Andrew were being sillies. Anyway, we finished most of our study guide by about 2am, and headed home. 

Kasey went to bed. Thus, I went to work. Justin and I decided we would go ahead and make her birthday cake early and stay up all night doing it like we did with Daniel's. I was tired, but I agreed, wanting desperately to try a Pinterest idea for icing the cake. I had one layer of the cake already done by the time Justin came in, and my piping bag was set up. But before that, poor Daniel stumbled in. He had forgotten to take some things to the library so that he could finish up his choral compendium. He borrowed my flash drive and went to dress for the next day. He was planning on staying in the library until time for his final. He left frazzled, but dressed to kill. 

I only WISH this was the cake I made.

As I was slipping the second layer of chocolate fudge cake into the oven, Justin arrives. We watched Family Guy, typed up some notes, and waited for the cake to finish. Within the course of about an hour or so, I got the cake out, let it cool, shaved it down to size, pasted the two layers together with chocolate icing and covered the outside with white icing. A big ole fat chunk of cake fell off, and I pasted that back on with chocolate icing. Honestly, the cake looked like a S.A.M. (for those of you who don't know what that means, it's probably for the best, so let's just say it SUCKED). I was tired. And disappointed. 

BUT, I fixed it all okay when I put the Sour Patch Kids on the side and piped the top. It wasn't too bad. It was very colorful, which distracts from the fact that it looked like poop, but I was satisfied. I put it in the fridge, laid down on the couch with my blanket and pillow to watch a Star Wars episode of Family Guy, and PASSED OUT. I felt kind of bad for Justin, since I fell asleep while he was there, but he had my computer, so he was well entertained. 

POWER NAP is what it was. After 30-45 minutes, around 5am, I woke up and went to town. FULL of energy. I made birthday signs for Kasey, set signs up leading to her cake, wrapped the other sour patch kids bags in wrapping paper tied with tinsel from our Christmas decorations, Wrote her a few notes, decorated to the best of my ability with what I had (i.e. Harry Potter crap & a V mask), etc…

Justin sat there, highly amused with my power surge. I took pictures of everything, and by the time I finished it was 6am. Maybe a little after. Justin left to go back to the library to study for math, and I went back to sleep on the couch until 8. Jasper woke Kasey up, so she came out of her room into the living room. I sleepily pointed to the kitchen and mumbled, "Go look…!" She did so, and I think she loved it. :) And suddenly I was awake again, and I told her the events of the morning, in great detail, leaving nothing out. She, too, was amused. I don't really remember what all was said. 

Then we went back to sleep, but not until I texted everyone and their mother about random, crazy things, or wishing them luck on exams. I was so effing cheerful. And then I passed out again until it was time to wake up for the exam.

So. 10:30am. Got up and made myself some eggs and toast and headed out to school. The exam was 31 questions. You've got to be joking. But I feel like I did well on it. And Dr. Parker sent us home with a "Thank You, Students" slide show with a song and all of the baby pictures we sent to him that he liked to use for the power points (since it was DEVELOPMENTAL psych). It was sweet. And he ended the semester the way he always ended our classes:

"Teach your children well!" :)

THEN I went home and napped some more. Woke up and began to write this post, but never finished. Zacc and I went to get some Starbucks before we went to a rehearsal for Wesley's Lessons and Carols at his church in Fosters. That happens tomorrow night. And thank you for buying me coffee, Zacc. :) 

Um...yes, please!

Then we rehearsed at Moody. Sang a lot. Then it was time for church choir practice. Sang some more. Nearly fell asleep in practice, too. It was kind of funny. I was out of it. I kept zoning out. Plus, I was sitting between Mabs and Kathleen, so you know we didn't pay any attention. When I wasn't zoning out, I was laughing at them. 

Alright, moving this along, I promise. I'm going to add some pictures so as to keep your attention as you read. You better read.

SOOOOOOOOO after THAT I indulged Kasey and went over to Jonathan's for a little "YAY EXAMS ARE OVER" party, even though I was about to pass ouuuuut again. But I love all of the people that were there. And they loved the birthday cake! It was pretty tasty. And I played Mario tennis on the 64, which was loads of fun. Talk about letting your anger out! So all was bearable until about 12:30am when I was ready to cry...

Let me explain to you how I felt durning the course of the day. Three emotions, really.

CHEERFUL -------> HATEFUL & SARDONIC ----------> WEEPY & PATHETIC

"OMG, yay! I love everyone and everyTHING!"

"Omg, leave me alone before I say something hateful that I may or may not regret later."

"WHY AM I CRYING?!?!"

So, after falling asleep on and off at Jonathan's, we finally left. And yes, I cried in the car on the way home. No idea why. I was just THAT tired, I guess. 

So, now it's Thursday and I woke up at 11 something. 10 hours of sleep. And it's dark outside…? I guess it's supposed to rain? 

And Daniel's caught up on sleep, nerding out to Skyrim. 

PEACE.

Unfortunately...

...Bullies still exist after high school...


And it doesn't get any easier.