There are words that just sound...gross. In random conversations with my friends, I'll comment whenever a word is used that...UGH!
Without further ado, here's a list of words that sound disgusting:
-Moist
-Boobs/Booby
-Titty
-Pussy
-Cranny
-Granny
-Mush
-Luger
-Boogie
-Creamed/Creamy
-Syphilis
-Vag
-Tutu
-Poot
-Cooky (rhymes with spooky)
-Slime
So, that's about all I have right now. I'm watching Bridezilla's and taking pointers. (Just kidding. These people are ridiculous.)
Seriously, this girl and her fiance are getting tattoos and she cheated on him with the tattoo artist.
-_- I worry about the sanctity of marriage. But more on that later. I really have to get started on this paper that's due at 11 P.M. tonight. Procrastination for the win!
Friday, November 18, 2011
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Unsent Letter 1: J. (Note: names have been omitted to protect those involved)
J-,
I want to thank you. I know that sounds odd considering where we are in our lives right now. I think the only way to let completely go is to tell you what you've taught me.
Thank you for letting me know what it truly meant to love someone; and thank you for teaching me what it was like to lose someone whom I'd bestowed so much love and time upon. I loved you. Nothing can dispute that fact. I'm starting to love the things you taught me- the things that made me a better person and a more loving and understand individual. In truth, you were my first love. You are my kryptonite. Toxic.
"I believe you can't appreciate real love until you've been burned."
-Savage Garden
Thank you for letting me know what I deserve. I don't deserve to be hit or told every single day how fat and ugly I am. I don't deserve to have my food monitored or be told that I can't have certain things. I shouldn't be called a bitch and every other foul name. I don't deserve to be the butt of your joke. I deserve to be happy seven days a week- not just two.
Thank you for showing me how to communicate. I learned from you how a fight shouldn't go and as a result of your examples, my current thoughts regarding relationship fighting has changed significantly. I now know the importance of fighting in a relationship- I know what is worth the fight and what should just be dismissed. I know how to conduct a civil argument and how to avoid guilt trips and personal attacks.
Thank you for showing me how to truly love another individual. Throughout our relationship, you showed me utter beauty and complete chaos. You had me at my worst and brought me up to my best. But-- it is through you that I learned that's not how relationships work. A relationship isn't meant to make you; it's meant to mold you. In a relationship, you don't put someone at their worst or their best- you aid them in their times of need and do everything you can to make them feel the best they can. You show them compassion, sincerity, and understanding. You don't mold them; you mold with them.
You have made me a better person and for that, I can't really hate you.
I hate the things you did to me; that goes without needing to be said. I resent the negative times we had and adore the few and far between moments in which you showed me compassion and love.
You showed me what love could be.
You made me learn things and made me mature in ways I may not have without you.
And for that, I give you thanks.
I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that you will never again be a part of my life. But, your life lessons will stay with me as you become a distant shadow in my past. Your place in my life had a purpose- a deep, meaningful purpose. And now that that purpose has been fulfilled, it's time to move on.
"Some things you just don't question..."
-Savage Garden
Sincerely,
Luna-C
I want to thank you. I know that sounds odd considering where we are in our lives right now. I think the only way to let completely go is to tell you what you've taught me.
Thank you for letting me know what it truly meant to love someone; and thank you for teaching me what it was like to lose someone whom I'd bestowed so much love and time upon. I loved you. Nothing can dispute that fact. I'm starting to love the things you taught me- the things that made me a better person and a more loving and understand individual. In truth, you were my first love. You are my kryptonite. Toxic.
"I believe you can't appreciate real love until you've been burned."
-Savage Garden
Thank you for letting me know what I deserve. I don't deserve to be hit or told every single day how fat and ugly I am. I don't deserve to have my food monitored or be told that I can't have certain things. I shouldn't be called a bitch and every other foul name. I don't deserve to be the butt of your joke. I deserve to be happy seven days a week- not just two.
Thank you for showing me how to communicate. I learned from you how a fight shouldn't go and as a result of your examples, my current thoughts regarding relationship fighting has changed significantly. I now know the importance of fighting in a relationship- I know what is worth the fight and what should just be dismissed. I know how to conduct a civil argument and how to avoid guilt trips and personal attacks.
Thank you for showing me how to truly love another individual. Throughout our relationship, you showed me utter beauty and complete chaos. You had me at my worst and brought me up to my best. But-- it is through you that I learned that's not how relationships work. A relationship isn't meant to make you; it's meant to mold you. In a relationship, you don't put someone at their worst or their best- you aid them in their times of need and do everything you can to make them feel the best they can. You show them compassion, sincerity, and understanding. You don't mold them; you mold with them.
You have made me a better person and for that, I can't really hate you.
I hate the things you did to me; that goes without needing to be said. I resent the negative times we had and adore the few and far between moments in which you showed me compassion and love.
You showed me what love could be.
You made me learn things and made me mature in ways I may not have without you.
And for that, I give you thanks.
I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that you will never again be a part of my life. But, your life lessons will stay with me as you become a distant shadow in my past. Your place in my life had a purpose- a deep, meaningful purpose. And now that that purpose has been fulfilled, it's time to move on.
"Some things you just don't question..."
-Savage Garden
Sincerely,
Luna-C
Disclaimer/School Rant/ Soul Mate Reasoning
-insert obligatory apology for not writing here-
***Disclaimer: Please note I do not own any of the pictures on my page. They were found via the internet. The only thing I own on this page is the writing. ****
"The only problem I have with college is I don't get to do what I want.
I get to do what I like.
But not what I want"
- 11/15/2011
Okay, so I was in class and had the urge to write. We were watching a documentary on Lorine Niedecker.This woman kept a notebook with her at all times and wrote down anything she thought she could use later. Upon her death, she had a list of stuff that she wanted burned. I was so overcome with envy that I wrote the above quote.
Begin: School Rant.
In truth, I love my college major. I love everything I do: the analysis, the research, my career goal. I don't think I would have picked English Lit. as a major and stayed with it if I hated it. However, I've come to reason that as soon as something is assigned for school, I immediately don't want to do it. I don't know if it's the pressure of being graded or as my friend said, the fact that "everything is shoved into such short time variables." Regardless, school hinders my passion. Granted, I love most things after school has finished ramming them into my head.
Example: Milton's Paradise Lost = utterly fantastic.
I HATED it while I was studying it in class.
I want to write all the time.
But, because of school, I get overwhelmed by stress and wind up sleeping when I could be blogging or working on my creative non-fiction pieces. I have adverse reactions to stress. (Trust me. Recently I've been overcome with nausea around the same time every night. Never mind that I have three 12 page papers coming up and various little other papers and assignments. My mind went right to pregnancy.) The nausea is completely new and really inconsistent. I'm either feeling horrible around eleven at night or completely fine.
I love my college major; It's not always what I feel like doing at a particular time.
Sometime I just want to blog for two hours, watch a movie, and sleep with my fiance. (I make time for all these things and then bitch at myself later because I could have been doing something productive.) I wouldn't trade these things for the world. I just wish my mind would stop bitching at me afterward.
Everything will get done. It always does. So why stress? I haven't quite figured this one out yet.
End: School Rant.
I'm pretty sure there was another section I wanted to add here. But of course, I thought about this post while going to sleep. Upon waking, I couldn't even remember the beginning of the "To be or not to be" soliloquy much less what I wanted to blog about.
Begin: Soul Mate Reasoning.
I'm a believer of soul mates. I believe there is someone who fits your soul like a puzzle piece. I believe that certain positive choices one makes in their life will lead them to this person. I also believe that there is a difference between coincidence and fate. Yes, there are coincidences. But, when something happens too frequently, it becomes signs of fate.
I grew up in Winter Haven, Florida. (I believed my soul mate would have to be someone in that region).
My aunt has lived in the same place (Baltimore, MD- same neighborhood) since she was a little girl.
A whirlwind of negative shit happened to me. The hardest thing was telling someone about it, telling someone who could help me.
I moved to Maryland into the same house that my aunt has lived in as a result.
Because of everything that happened to me, I was not in the best mental state. I was a thirteen year old who constantly thought about suicide and the next best thing to cut myself with. Let's just say I wasn't the girl you wanted to bring home to your mother.
My future fiance lived on the street over from mine. I had never met him. I never even knew he existed.
Several years prior to my moving to Maryland, he and his family moved from that house to somewhere twenty minutes away.
Around the time I moved up here, my fiance wasn't...making the best life choices. (I was thirteen. This would make him fifteen. At fifteen years old, his hallucinogen addiction started. At thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, and seventeen, I was suicidal [however, I did have strong feelings opposing drug use].)
I applied to Kenwood High School (his high school) and was wait listed.
He applied to Sparrows Point High School (my alma mater) and was put into random lottery. His number wasn't chosen.
Remember that in high school, we still weren't the people we are now. I was clingy, needy, and an emotional twister. He was a drug addict.
In high school, I met my long term boyfriend, J. Granted, J and I broke up several times throughout high school and the beginning of my college career. I even dated people in between these break ups. However, I always got back together with him. Always. Even though me and everyone else knew he was no good for me.
Around the same time I was with J, Rob was with T. That relationship fell through and shortly afterward, he was convicted of a crime and sent to jail for almost a year (before you ask- he was innocent. He plead guilty to one charge. His words: "Even though I was innocent, I feel that I had made such messed up choices in life that Karma found a way to get back at me. Karma and I are even now." ). In jail, he came to terms with his addiction and began taking the necessary steps to better his life. Upon release, he had been clean for a little over a year and a half, had written a multitude of poems, began meditation and furthering his literary and philosophical knowledge.(He had been on house arrest prior to his guilty plea.)
I was still struggle with J and the inability to live without him even though the relationship was toxic.I was struggling with my emotional state and agreed to grief therapy nine years after the death of my mother. My mom's death was the jump start to my weak mental state and emotional disconnect.
Rob got out of jail in December.
He dated several people between December and May.
J and I broke up in May.
This time, I knew the break up between J and I was permanent.
I made a Plenty of Fish account.
I was there for shallow reasons: I wanted guys to tell me I was pretty. J aided in the destruction of my self-esteem to a dangerous low. I wanted to find guys that were friends and guys to give me compliments.
I made sure that every guy I talked to knew I wasn't ready for a relationship.
I messaged Rob first, commenting on his musical tastes.
We met two weeks later for lunch. (I say it wasn't a date. He claims it was. I made it clear it wasn't a date prior to going out. However, seeing how things ended up, it probably was a date.)
Started dating about three weeks later.
And were engaged two months later.
He lives 15 minutes away.
At this point in our lives, we were the best we had ever been.
And finally, the "forces that be" let us meet each other.
Take this how you will. It seems more than coincidence to me. How do you just barely miss the opportunity to meet someone for years (though you both are in no shape for a healthy relationship)? Think about it.
I'm thoroughly convinced my fiance is my soul mate. Not just because of how well we compliment one another, not only because of the way he makes me feel (utterly complete), but also because the "forces that be" kept us away from one another in our worst states and had us meet each other at the best points in our lives. Upon meeting him, everything seemed to fall into place- and quickly. He says the same about me.
I believe in soul mates.
End: Soul Mate Reasoning
Think of something special in your life. How did it get there? How long was it there before you even noticed it? How long has it truly been yours?
Maybe forever.
Friday, November 11, 2011
Nightmares and a Time Limit on Love
It's been awhile and for that I am truly sorry. Not only to my readers but also to myself. I realize I'm less stressed when I write.
Aside from a copious amount of papers of which the due dates are coming rapidly, I've been haunted by nightmares lately (yes, that's passive voice for a reason). I love sleeping. I don't like sleeping when my ex-boyfriend shows up in my dreams. I've realized that my dream self is completely different than the person I am consciously. I'm not a cheater or malicious; yet dream me thinks it's okay to cheat and steal from the people I love. I could never do that to anyone.
The Insane Jealousy book came in and of course, I read most of it the day I got it. I took a highlighter to the pages and learned a lot. One of the help-techniques is to do a role reversal. I told Rob about it and he's down for the idea. Of course, it's important that at the end of the activity to let the other person know that it was an exercise in order to show the person how they make the other feel. I want to get a better grasp on the causes and different manifestations of extreme jealousy before I start to tackle the help-techniques. How can I change something I don't completely understand?
I'm pretty sure infidelity shows up in my dreams because it's something that I fear. However, since I'm also writing a piece of creative non-fiction regarding my ex, it's almost as if I'm reliving our relationships. Of course he's going to be in the back of my mind. When we first broke up and I started dating my fiance, I was having dreams about my ex. They dispersed shortly afterward and now are coming back. These dreams make me sleep restlessly and usually upon waking up, my pillows are thrown across the bed and my mattress is crooked, almost falling off the bed. Needless to say, my ex and I didn't have a healthy relationship. In fact, near the end of our relationship, we were together because we were to afraid to find other people (even though we knew we would be happier elsewhere). I would be lying if I said I didn't love him. On the contrary, I did everything for that boy. I got him into college (I filled out his application and wrote his essay). I wrote a lot of his papers (because he said he had a problem with comprehension). I gave him money and all of my time and energy. Our relationship was one sided. My parents hated him. My friends hated him. He blamed that on me. He said I told them negative things about him and that's why no one liked him. In fact, no one liked him because of him. There were rules in our relationship I was expected to follow.
I wasn't allowed to stop by his room unannounced- I had to call or text first.
Towards the end, he didn't want me to spend the night. We could only sleep together if he fell asleep first.
I wasn't allowed to touch his cell phone.
He had me blocked from Facebook and Twitter.
He didn't like the amount I ate, and tried to monitor it as often as he could.
We fist fought. I was submissive because any time we fought he would threaten to leave me. I was afraid of him leaving, so I would give up. Sometimes I would get mad enough to tell him it was over and I would get no reaction out of him. He always said, "I know you're going to come back. Why should I waste the energy?"
We were in couples therapy at ages 19 and 20. How pathetic is that? Even in therapy he would lie to the therapist and the bitch at me later about the things we brought up.
I want to believe that he loved me. In fact, I know deep down he loved me some how. I think that a lot of it was a power struggle and a desire to not be alone.
When I met my fiance, I told him I wasn't ready for a boyfriend. I told him that I just wanted to find guys that were friends. Less than three months later, I was engaged. Rob would stop at nothing for me to agree to be his girlfriend. He wrote me poems, brought me flowers. He courted me like any prince would. Of course, my brain told me it hadn't been long enough to start another relationship. (My ex and I had broken up in May and it was June [did I mention my ex and I had been together four years and he left me through a TEXT message?]). Eventually, my parents sat me down and told me that just because I don't say something, doesn't me it doesn't exist. "You act like his girlfriend. Face it, even though you haven't agreed to anything, he's yours." A couple days later, I made it official with a sign:
"I'll be your girlfriend but if you hurt me, I'll kill you. <3"
That was June 17th. On August 17th, he proposed to me in a nighttime picnic behind his house. Granted, I knew he was going to (Rob's terrible at keeping secrets) but I still cried.
I've told myself repeatedly that I don't deserve someone to love me. I don't deserve kindness and compassion. Everyone leaves eventually.
"Everybody leaves and I'd expect as much from you."
- The Gaslight Anthem
I can't believe anything he says. No matter how cute, no matter how much I'd like to believe that what he's telling me is true- it's so hard. He asks me all the time why I can love him and why he can't love me?
"How is it possible that you can feel a certain way about me but I can't feel the exact same way about you?"
The truth is- I don't know. I have a lot of problems. It's like this weird Catch-22 where I want to be loved but I'm not allowed to actually be cared about.
This probably stems from my past relationships (especially with mentioned ex) and my abandonment issues revolving around my mother's death. I can only work on so much at a time.
I just hope I don't run out of time. Is there a time limit on love?
Aside from a copious amount of papers of which the due dates are coming rapidly, I've been haunted by nightmares lately (yes, that's passive voice for a reason). I love sleeping. I don't like sleeping when my ex-boyfriend shows up in my dreams. I've realized that my dream self is completely different than the person I am consciously. I'm not a cheater or malicious; yet dream me thinks it's okay to cheat and steal from the people I love. I could never do that to anyone.
The Insane Jealousy book came in and of course, I read most of it the day I got it. I took a highlighter to the pages and learned a lot. One of the help-techniques is to do a role reversal. I told Rob about it and he's down for the idea. Of course, it's important that at the end of the activity to let the other person know that it was an exercise in order to show the person how they make the other feel. I want to get a better grasp on the causes and different manifestations of extreme jealousy before I start to tackle the help-techniques. How can I change something I don't completely understand?
I'm pretty sure infidelity shows up in my dreams because it's something that I fear. However, since I'm also writing a piece of creative non-fiction regarding my ex, it's almost as if I'm reliving our relationships. Of course he's going to be in the back of my mind. When we first broke up and I started dating my fiance, I was having dreams about my ex. They dispersed shortly afterward and now are coming back. These dreams make me sleep restlessly and usually upon waking up, my pillows are thrown across the bed and my mattress is crooked, almost falling off the bed. Needless to say, my ex and I didn't have a healthy relationship. In fact, near the end of our relationship, we were together because we were to afraid to find other people (even though we knew we would be happier elsewhere). I would be lying if I said I didn't love him. On the contrary, I did everything for that boy. I got him into college (I filled out his application and wrote his essay). I wrote a lot of his papers (because he said he had a problem with comprehension). I gave him money and all of my time and energy. Our relationship was one sided. My parents hated him. My friends hated him. He blamed that on me. He said I told them negative things about him and that's why no one liked him. In fact, no one liked him because of him. There were rules in our relationship I was expected to follow.
I wasn't allowed to stop by his room unannounced- I had to call or text first.
Towards the end, he didn't want me to spend the night. We could only sleep together if he fell asleep first.
I wasn't allowed to touch his cell phone.
He had me blocked from Facebook and Twitter.
He didn't like the amount I ate, and tried to monitor it as often as he could.
We fist fought. I was submissive because any time we fought he would threaten to leave me. I was afraid of him leaving, so I would give up. Sometimes I would get mad enough to tell him it was over and I would get no reaction out of him. He always said, "I know you're going to come back. Why should I waste the energy?"
We were in couples therapy at ages 19 and 20. How pathetic is that? Even in therapy he would lie to the therapist and the bitch at me later about the things we brought up.
I want to believe that he loved me. In fact, I know deep down he loved me some how. I think that a lot of it was a power struggle and a desire to not be alone.
When I met my fiance, I told him I wasn't ready for a boyfriend. I told him that I just wanted to find guys that were friends. Less than three months later, I was engaged. Rob would stop at nothing for me to agree to be his girlfriend. He wrote me poems, brought me flowers. He courted me like any prince would. Of course, my brain told me it hadn't been long enough to start another relationship. (My ex and I had broken up in May and it was June [did I mention my ex and I had been together four years and he left me through a TEXT message?]). Eventually, my parents sat me down and told me that just because I don't say something, doesn't me it doesn't exist. "You act like his girlfriend. Face it, even though you haven't agreed to anything, he's yours." A couple days later, I made it official with a sign:
"I'll be your girlfriend but if you hurt me, I'll kill you. <3"
That was June 17th. On August 17th, he proposed to me in a nighttime picnic behind his house. Granted, I knew he was going to (Rob's terrible at keeping secrets) but I still cried.
I've told myself repeatedly that I don't deserve someone to love me. I don't deserve kindness and compassion. Everyone leaves eventually.
"Everybody leaves and I'd expect as much from you."
- The Gaslight Anthem
I can't believe anything he says. No matter how cute, no matter how much I'd like to believe that what he's telling me is true- it's so hard. He asks me all the time why I can love him and why he can't love me?
"How is it possible that you can feel a certain way about me but I can't feel the exact same way about you?"
The truth is- I don't know. I have a lot of problems. It's like this weird Catch-22 where I want to be loved but I'm not allowed to actually be cared about.
This probably stems from my past relationships (especially with mentioned ex) and my abandonment issues revolving around my mother's death. I can only work on so much at a time.
I just hope I don't run out of time. Is there a time limit on love?
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
College: Why you no easy? and Way to go, Othello.
Sorry for not posting in a while; it's been a pretty rough week at school and in my personal life. I haven't really had the time or energy to get in front of a computer.
Mid-term grades are in and I did surprisingly well.
Three A's and a B. Not too bad for not being as prepared as I could have been. Looking at my calendar I've realized November and December are going to absolute hell in the school department. I have two research papers due within days of each other (and by research paper I mean 10-12 pages). Ugh. Of course I had to declare an English major.
Wait! Epic tangent time!
I hate catching a lot of flack for being an English major. Ummm, it's just like any other major. Okay, granted I won't be doing brain surgery but 78% of the people who go to college with some ridiculous expectation (like double major in Bio and Chem) wind up dropping their major for something like Political Science or Philosophy. Don't get me wrong, there are people who can do the double science major and more power to them (we need people like that in the world). However, there has to be a passion driving any and all major choices. I was lucky enough to know my junior year of high school that I wanted to be a teacher and that I have a deep love for classic literature and an even deeper love for Medieval texts and rhetorical analysis.
I hear all the time that English isn't a real major. Well buddy, my basic reading schedule is approximately 300-400 pages a week (for four classes) (whether I actually do it or not is up to me) but that's how much reading is assigned. Not to mention we usually have two-three papers per class per semester. That means that taking four classes with two papers a class is eight papers of varying lengths. (and I did that math without having a math major -_-). Usually, one of the papers per class is a short six-eight pages (and yes, I said short) with the second paper usually being a longer research paper of about 10-15 pages. Now.. we're getting in double digits so the amount of pages I have to write per semester can be left to the math majors but I'm pretty sure it's a lot. So, I don't want to hear that English is an easy major. We do a lot of work. Not to mention we have to sit in a classroom full of people and fight to make thought provoking observations before the person next to us; a good portion of our time is spent being told we'll never be as good as Shakespeare and trying to outdo our peers in analysis. So, it's also a self-esteem killer.
Pretty sure I've proved my point that English is a real major that requires a substantial amount of work and dignity.
End epic rant.
Anyway, one of my most awesome friends has a video blog (yeah, I'm jealous): check it out! He's super amazing: Anderson's Vlog.
Now that's my advertising for the moment.
My personal life is a little shaky right now. So shaky that I actually purchased a self-help book to aid in the conquering of my Othello Complex. I'm super stoked about the book, Intense Jealousy. check out the link here. This doctor works a lot with mental disorders and self-help. Of course the disclaimer is that these books should never be used in substitution or replace the diagnosis of a doctor. They're best used in order to become more self-aware and in conjunction with therapeutic professional aid.
God, advertising again. So many great things in the world.
People keep telling me things about my fiance that allude to infidelity (if not outright infidelity). A girl messaged me via Facebook once and told me he was a sex addict who kept badgering her to sleep with him. Granted, they were old friends who never did anything sexual with one another and had had a falling out the night before; apparently she lied in order to get back at him. However, things keep happening regarding my fiance and his supposed "textual" affairs, we'll call them.
Needless to say, it happened again. I was told by a close friend of mine that in the spring (before we were together) my fiance had been badgering a girl to sleep with him; this girl was married and apparently having marital problems. Around the time we got together, he apparently texted her again saying that the window of opportunity for them to sleep together must have closed only with her to apparently reply that it was never opened in the first place.
The messenger is someone whom I trust. "If you confront him, he's going to deny it."
My fiance and I got into a heated argument that had me in tears screaming and his stuff packed (because I threw it all at him). I went as far as to take my engagement ring off, put it in a box and threw the tiny jewelry box on his pile of unfolded clothes.
He didn't deny it. He had fooled around with this girl before: the key word being before and the it being before we got together. He however, never remembers texting her during out relationship regarding anything about their past.
This leads me to this limbo like state. He's has admitting to have a past "fling" with this girl; however, he claims that he never texted her sexually since we've been together and that it's quite possible her time line is a little off since their fling was pretty close to the beginning of Summer/end of Spring and him and I got together in June. Regardless, I don't know what to believe. I understand that people get their time lines confused all the time. I'm guilty of this. Ask me when my ex left me and I can tell you he broke up at four year relationship on May 28 through a text message. Yet, ask me what I did last week and I have no idea.
However, this is happening a little too often for it to be just a coincidence in my opinion.
I've talked to a couple of friends and have heard two responses. 1. Follow your heart. (well, my heart wants to believe that none of it is true) but my brain screams really loud and makes my heart pretty hard to hear.
2. In my previous relationship, there were red flags everywhere but no one ever came up to me and told me a story regarding the cheating of my then boyfriend. In this relationship, there are no red flags...at all. In fact, Rob is with me a good portion of the time if he's not at work or school (and those schedules are consistent and the same every week). But, I've had people come up to me and tell me stories regarding his infidelity.
I honestly feel like my life is turning out like Othello and guess who's the protagonist that fucks up everything? I feel that since I've received warning I should be able to stop it before it happens.
The second piece of advice was trust him until he gives me a reason not to trust him. Truth: Rob has never given me a reason not to trust him; but there are other people who have given me reasons not to trust him. I don't want to play the part of the fool but I also don't want to lose someone who makes me feel as happy and as complete as he does. So, that's life in a nutshell right now and sorting it out is harder than finding the dollar bill you used fifteen years ago to buy a piece of gum.
I plan on trying to write more often but if things get a little busy, I'm going to have to take brief couple day hiatuses. I bet you can understand how life gets in the way of life.
Mid-term grades are in and I did surprisingly well.
Three A's and a B. Not too bad for not being as prepared as I could have been. Looking at my calendar I've realized November and December are going to absolute hell in the school department. I have two research papers due within days of each other (and by research paper I mean 10-12 pages). Ugh. Of course I had to declare an English major.
Wait! Epic tangent time!
I hate catching a lot of flack for being an English major. Ummm, it's just like any other major. Okay, granted I won't be doing brain surgery but 78% of the people who go to college with some ridiculous expectation (like double major in Bio and Chem) wind up dropping their major for something like Political Science or Philosophy. Don't get me wrong, there are people who can do the double science major and more power to them (we need people like that in the world). However, there has to be a passion driving any and all major choices. I was lucky enough to know my junior year of high school that I wanted to be a teacher and that I have a deep love for classic literature and an even deeper love for Medieval texts and rhetorical analysis.
I hear all the time that English isn't a real major. Well buddy, my basic reading schedule is approximately 300-400 pages a week (for four classes) (whether I actually do it or not is up to me) but that's how much reading is assigned. Not to mention we usually have two-three papers per class per semester. That means that taking four classes with two papers a class is eight papers of varying lengths. (and I did that math without having a math major -_-). Usually, one of the papers per class is a short six-eight pages (and yes, I said short) with the second paper usually being a longer research paper of about 10-15 pages. Now.. we're getting in double digits so the amount of pages I have to write per semester can be left to the math majors but I'm pretty sure it's a lot. So, I don't want to hear that English is an easy major. We do a lot of work. Not to mention we have to sit in a classroom full of people and fight to make thought provoking observations before the person next to us; a good portion of our time is spent being told we'll never be as good as Shakespeare and trying to outdo our peers in analysis. So, it's also a self-esteem killer.
Pretty sure I've proved my point that English is a real major that requires a substantial amount of work and dignity.
End epic rant.
Anyway, one of my most awesome friends has a video blog (yeah, I'm jealous): check it out! He's super amazing: Anderson's Vlog.
Now that's my advertising for the moment.
My personal life is a little shaky right now. So shaky that I actually purchased a self-help book to aid in the conquering of my Othello Complex. I'm super stoked about the book, Intense Jealousy. check out the link here. This doctor works a lot with mental disorders and self-help. Of course the disclaimer is that these books should never be used in substitution or replace the diagnosis of a doctor. They're best used in order to become more self-aware and in conjunction with therapeutic professional aid.
God, advertising again. So many great things in the world.
People keep telling me things about my fiance that allude to infidelity (if not outright infidelity). A girl messaged me via Facebook once and told me he was a sex addict who kept badgering her to sleep with him. Granted, they were old friends who never did anything sexual with one another and had had a falling out the night before; apparently she lied in order to get back at him. However, things keep happening regarding my fiance and his supposed "textual" affairs, we'll call them.
Needless to say, it happened again. I was told by a close friend of mine that in the spring (before we were together) my fiance had been badgering a girl to sleep with him; this girl was married and apparently having marital problems. Around the time we got together, he apparently texted her again saying that the window of opportunity for them to sleep together must have closed only with her to apparently reply that it was never opened in the first place.
The messenger is someone whom I trust. "If you confront him, he's going to deny it."
My fiance and I got into a heated argument that had me in tears screaming and his stuff packed (because I threw it all at him). I went as far as to take my engagement ring off, put it in a box and threw the tiny jewelry box on his pile of unfolded clothes.
He didn't deny it. He had fooled around with this girl before: the key word being before and the it being before we got together. He however, never remembers texting her during out relationship regarding anything about their past.
This leads me to this limbo like state. He's has admitting to have a past "fling" with this girl; however, he claims that he never texted her sexually since we've been together and that it's quite possible her time line is a little off since their fling was pretty close to the beginning of Summer/end of Spring and him and I got together in June. Regardless, I don't know what to believe. I understand that people get their time lines confused all the time. I'm guilty of this. Ask me when my ex left me and I can tell you he broke up at four year relationship on May 28 through a text message. Yet, ask me what I did last week and I have no idea.
However, this is happening a little too often for it to be just a coincidence in my opinion.
I've talked to a couple of friends and have heard two responses. 1. Follow your heart. (well, my heart wants to believe that none of it is true) but my brain screams really loud and makes my heart pretty hard to hear.
2. In my previous relationship, there were red flags everywhere but no one ever came up to me and told me a story regarding the cheating of my then boyfriend. In this relationship, there are no red flags...at all. In fact, Rob is with me a good portion of the time if he's not at work or school (and those schedules are consistent and the same every week). But, I've had people come up to me and tell me stories regarding his infidelity.
I honestly feel like my life is turning out like Othello and guess who's the protagonist that fucks up everything? I feel that since I've received warning I should be able to stop it before it happens.
The second piece of advice was trust him until he gives me a reason not to trust him. Truth: Rob has never given me a reason not to trust him; but there are other people who have given me reasons not to trust him. I don't want to play the part of the fool but I also don't want to lose someone who makes me feel as happy and as complete as he does. So, that's life in a nutshell right now and sorting it out is harder than finding the dollar bill you used fifteen years ago to buy a piece of gum.
I plan on trying to write more often but if things get a little busy, I'm going to have to take brief couple day hiatuses. I bet you can understand how life gets in the way of life.
Friday, October 28, 2011
I probably shouldn't have taken my pills with an energy drink o.O
For some reason, I got hit with a random wave of depression. I don't know what it is or why it happened. It's normal but just because something is normal doesn't make it enjoyable. I'm pretty sure the only thing I've mentioned here is how much I put off homework (which by the way I'm putting off homework again). It's times like this where I become really introspective. I start to think about all the things that got me where I am in my life. I'm in college. Engaged. Trying really hard to get my life together and stay on the right track. And yet, there is one thing that's been on my mind constantly...
Babies.
Yes, babies.
I can't seem to get the little screaming balls of poop out of my head. I don't know if it's something biological or if it's just because I'm coming up on the end of month one of my Seasonique pack where any normal girl would be getting her period. But I can't stop thinking about babies.
I've been thinking about them so much that I've actually started dreaming about them and trust me, it's inconvenient waking up in a panic thinking that you have a kid to take care of. I'm only twenty years old. But it seems like all my friends, even the ones younger than I am are starting their families. A long time ago, it was normal for fourteen year old girls to give birth; it seems history is repeating itself in that teenage pregnancy is at an all time high. I look at my friends who have children and am enveloped with a twinge of jealousy. Where did they go right and I go wrong or vice versa? I can't help thinking deep down that while everyone else is moving, I'm standing still.
"Hey Liz, how's life?"
I'm in school; the same damn thing I was doing four years ago. This time it's just college and not high school. I would love to have something to love me unconditionally.
And then I go to the doctor with Rob and hear kids screaming and telling their parents "no" and he just looks at me and says, "And you want one of those."
In reality, I know I'm in no way ready to have a child- not mentally, not physically, not emotionally, and definitely not financially. But I think about it and I'm pretty sure that might be normal. I love talking to my parents about it and they tell me that I'm being irrational. I could tell Rob at any time that I want children and I'm pretty sure with enough begging he would give in. I have to constantly keep telling myself that neither of us are ready. But it's still nice to think about it. A little bundle of joy that I can cuddle, love, and take pictures of- (one that's not a twenty-two year old man).
I think I should just get a kitten.
Babies.
Yes, babies.
I can't seem to get the little screaming balls of poop out of my head. I don't know if it's something biological or if it's just because I'm coming up on the end of month one of my Seasonique pack where any normal girl would be getting her period. But I can't stop thinking about babies.
I've been thinking about them so much that I've actually started dreaming about them and trust me, it's inconvenient waking up in a panic thinking that you have a kid to take care of. I'm only twenty years old. But it seems like all my friends, even the ones younger than I am are starting their families. A long time ago, it was normal for fourteen year old girls to give birth; it seems history is repeating itself in that teenage pregnancy is at an all time high. I look at my friends who have children and am enveloped with a twinge of jealousy. Where did they go right and I go wrong or vice versa? I can't help thinking deep down that while everyone else is moving, I'm standing still.
"Hey Liz, how's life?"
I'm in school; the same damn thing I was doing four years ago. This time it's just college and not high school. I would love to have something to love me unconditionally.
And then I go to the doctor with Rob and hear kids screaming and telling their parents "no" and he just looks at me and says, "And you want one of those."
In reality, I know I'm in no way ready to have a child- not mentally, not physically, not emotionally, and definitely not financially. But I think about it and I'm pretty sure that might be normal. I love talking to my parents about it and they tell me that I'm being irrational. I could tell Rob at any time that I want children and I'm pretty sure with enough begging he would give in. I have to constantly keep telling myself that neither of us are ready. But it's still nice to think about it. A little bundle of joy that I can cuddle, love, and take pictures of- (one that's not a twenty-two year old man).
I think I should just get a kitten.
Ewwww, homework.
So, I'm again distracting myself from doing homework.
I'm working on a new piece of creative non-fiction. I'll put it up as soon as it's done. It's a little grittier than I'm used to writing- in fact, a lot grittier. But, everything has a purpose and this just so happens to have a purpose for me.
I'm in the process of editing a couple of my other pieces in order to submit them to the school literary magazine. Let's see how this goes.
I'm working on a new piece of creative non-fiction. I'll put it up as soon as it's done. It's a little grittier than I'm used to writing- in fact, a lot grittier. But, everything has a purpose and this just so happens to have a purpose for me.
I'm in the process of editing a couple of my other pieces in order to submit them to the school literary magazine. Let's see how this goes.
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
-_- and the Othello Complex
So, it wasn't a cold; I managed to come down with tonsillitis. I like when that happens- when I happen to be a lot more sick than I previously thought.
Anyway, it's time to get a little personal. I have the Othello Complex. Don't look it up. I'll explain.
I have a fantastic fiance. He makes me happier than anyone ever has and anyone ever could.
For those of us who haven't kept up with Shakespearean tragedies, let me explain the basic premise of Othello: The Moor of Venice. Before anyone believes I'm racist, a moor is someone from Morocco/Africa. Othello is a black man.
So, there's this dude, Othello, who is general of the Cyprus army. He falls in love with this chick named Desdemona who defies her father and elopes with Othello. Meanwhile, there's this evil guy named Iago who just wants to fuck everyone's day up- he begins to tell Othello that Desdemona is cheating on him and through tricks and deceit, as well as twisting appearance with reality, Othello believes him. Then shit gets real. (I know, completely informal. However, I'm not going to go all English major up in here. I'm also not going to ruin the ending in case this stupid synopsis made anyone want to read the play.)
The Othello Complex is "morbid jealousy." It's literally believing that your partner or spouse is cheating on you with little or no proof. People with this disorder tend to chain random occurrences together in order to justify that their partner is cheating on them. Yeah, totally sucks.
This weekend, I was sleeping and I was woken up by the sound of a vibrating phone. It was my fiance turning his phone on. I was pretty convinced he was texting another girl while I was sleeping. (His phone is usually off when we're together unless we go out.) I figured he probably had missed texts from his other girlfriend and was checking them while I was sleeping. Unfortunately, before I could find out his mom knocked on the door and asked for his help. I still pretended to be asleep.
We didn't have sex before we went to bed last night., which was already weighing on my mind. (He was probably getting it elsewhere and had no need for it from me) Granted, we had sex three times already that weekend. (Saturday- Monday).
He went to probation, I got in the shower. Going through my clothes that his mom had done for me (because I was sick and she wanted me to rest.) I found a pair of underwear that weren't mind. Granted, they weren't sexy underwear like a thong or something; it was a pair of worn yellow fruit of the loom underwear. I was done.
He got back from probation and I confronted him only about the underwear. He said chances are they were his mom's and told me to put them in the laundry basket in the hallway. He knew something was up even though I kept telling him I was fine. Eventually I came out and asked him what he was doing on his phone so early in the morning. "I was going to fill out papers for probation. My mom knocked on the door and then I realized I was too tired and laid back down." I asked him why we didn't have sex that night. "I was tired. We watched two movies and it was almost two in the morning. I had to get up at nine to be at probation. I didn't see you initiating anything. You know I would never turn you down, but I'm not the only one who has to initiate sex."
In therapy a couple weeks ago, my therapist and I talked about making sure to only rely on facts and not make inferences or judgments based on things what we think to be true. Again, I had interpreted the situation instead of relying on factual information. The thing about my brain. It will always turn a situation in a negative light. If presented with enough random occurrences, I have trained myself to string together the thoughts intricately in order to prove my worst fears. This is something I really need to work on.
Luckily, my fiance understands. "I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at some of your behaviors. It's something that we're going to work through." Thank goodness for him. Sometimes I don't want to be around myself.
It's weird finding someone who wants to work with me through my shit.
Anyway, it's time to get a little personal. I have the Othello Complex. Don't look it up. I'll explain.
I have a fantastic fiance. He makes me happier than anyone ever has and anyone ever could.
For those of us who haven't kept up with Shakespearean tragedies, let me explain the basic premise of Othello: The Moor of Venice. Before anyone believes I'm racist, a moor is someone from Morocco/Africa. Othello is a black man.
So, there's this dude, Othello, who is general of the Cyprus army. He falls in love with this chick named Desdemona who defies her father and elopes with Othello. Meanwhile, there's this evil guy named Iago who just wants to fuck everyone's day up- he begins to tell Othello that Desdemona is cheating on him and through tricks and deceit, as well as twisting appearance with reality, Othello believes him. Then shit gets real. (I know, completely informal. However, I'm not going to go all English major up in here. I'm also not going to ruin the ending in case this stupid synopsis made anyone want to read the play.)
The Othello Complex is "morbid jealousy." It's literally believing that your partner or spouse is cheating on you with little or no proof. People with this disorder tend to chain random occurrences together in order to justify that their partner is cheating on them. Yeah, totally sucks.
This weekend, I was sleeping and I was woken up by the sound of a vibrating phone. It was my fiance turning his phone on. I was pretty convinced he was texting another girl while I was sleeping. (His phone is usually off when we're together unless we go out.) I figured he probably had missed texts from his other girlfriend and was checking them while I was sleeping. Unfortunately, before I could find out his mom knocked on the door and asked for his help. I still pretended to be asleep.
We didn't have sex before we went to bed last night., which was already weighing on my mind. (He was probably getting it elsewhere and had no need for it from me) Granted, we had sex three times already that weekend. (Saturday- Monday).
He went to probation, I got in the shower. Going through my clothes that his mom had done for me (because I was sick and she wanted me to rest.) I found a pair of underwear that weren't mind. Granted, they weren't sexy underwear like a thong or something; it was a pair of worn yellow fruit of the loom underwear. I was done.
He got back from probation and I confronted him only about the underwear. He said chances are they were his mom's and told me to put them in the laundry basket in the hallway. He knew something was up even though I kept telling him I was fine. Eventually I came out and asked him what he was doing on his phone so early in the morning. "I was going to fill out papers for probation. My mom knocked on the door and then I realized I was too tired and laid back down." I asked him why we didn't have sex that night. "I was tired. We watched two movies and it was almost two in the morning. I had to get up at nine to be at probation. I didn't see you initiating anything. You know I would never turn you down, but I'm not the only one who has to initiate sex."
In therapy a couple weeks ago, my therapist and I talked about making sure to only rely on facts and not make inferences or judgments based on things what we think to be true. Again, I had interpreted the situation instead of relying on factual information. The thing about my brain. It will always turn a situation in a negative light. If presented with enough random occurrences, I have trained myself to string together the thoughts intricately in order to prove my worst fears. This is something I really need to work on.
Luckily, my fiance understands. "I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at some of your behaviors. It's something that we're going to work through." Thank goodness for him. Sometimes I don't want to be around myself.
It's weird finding someone who wants to work with me through my shit.
Thursday, October 20, 2011
What Is Creative Non-Fiction?
I guess I should start by answering the question, "what is creative non-fiction?" Creative Non-Fiction is the fourth genre of writing. It takes every day life experiences, factual life experiences, and tries to make meaning out of them. Think of it like...trying to find meaning in your life. A Memoir is a form of creative non-fiction. This type of writing is versatile.
I've always sucked at fiction writing to the point that I don't like writing it. This genre helps me. It helps me work through things and reach out to other people through my life experiences. I think about different essay topics all the time. I'm currently taking a class in college on creative non-fiction and I'm think about about writing an essay based on a workshop of one of my essays. (And yes, you can do that.) Freedom= amazing.
Somethings are just facts with no meaning for example, I had chicken for dinner. (It was delicious.) It's important to find a subject that really means something to you. Embrace your humanity and write about it.
For amazing examples of creative non-fiction click here.
All for now. I'm pretty sure I'm coming down with a cold and The Merchant of Venice awaits. -_-
I've always sucked at fiction writing to the point that I don't like writing it. This genre helps me. It helps me work through things and reach out to other people through my life experiences. I think about different essay topics all the time. I'm currently taking a class in college on creative non-fiction and I'm think about about writing an essay based on a workshop of one of my essays. (And yes, you can do that.) Freedom= amazing.
Somethings are just facts with no meaning for example, I had chicken for dinner. (It was delicious.) It's important to find a subject that really means something to you. Embrace your humanity and write about it.
For amazing examples of creative non-fiction click here.
All for now. I'm pretty sure I'm coming down with a cold and The Merchant of Venice awaits. -_-
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Things I Hate: A List
I know I already technically wrote today; however, I was overcome with a multitude of emotions regarding people and the fact that they need to get it together (and it's one in the afternoon). So, I decided that a list of things that I hate should make me feel better (or just make me more angry- I haven't decided yet).
Things I Hate: A List
I hate walking through the rain in flip flops and my feet get wet. (But I was too lazy to put on shoes and socks.)
I hate when people are late (even though I'm late like, all the time).
I hate when people type like idiots. Example: omg!!! wat da fuk!? u r sooooo rite.
I hate when people are rude and get angry when someone else gets rude back.
I hate that I usually don't get rude back when people are rude to me.
I hate when I'm at work and people don't speak up; so I feel like an idiot asking them to repeat themselves fifty times; when I finally hear them they give me this weird....duh look. Like I could fucking hear you.
I hate that the only time I ever really don't care about what I say is when I'm drunk.
I hate that because people know I'm drunk, they don't hold it against me.
I hate when people try to justify cheating.
I hate when people cheat. (On anything)
I hate that the worst kind of cheating is on a lover.
I hate that someone has cheated on me.
I hate that people are superficial.
I hate that I don't know how to be superficial. (Does that make me a not-person?)
I hate that because I don't know how to be superficial, I don't keep friends for very long.
I hate that I can count the number of people who actually enjoy talking to me on four fingers.
I hate illegal drugs.
I hate that I can't do illegal drugs because of my mental illnesses.
I hate that I get super paranoid when I go into cities.
I hate being dirty.
I hate that cities are dirty and I could possibly get killed there.
I hate thinking about being killed.
I hate not being in bed.
I hate that I always want to be in bed.
I hate being stressed out.
I hate that I'm stressed out right now.
I hate that every person doesn't have the same rights.
I hate that no one sees that.
I hate my body.
I hate that my fiance claims to love my body.
I hate that I'm super naive.
I hate that I have very little common sense.
I hate that some families aren't really familial at all.
I hate my mental illnesses.
I hate that I'm going to have to take medicine every day for the rest of my life.
I hate that I'm dependent on it.
I hate that I have addictions.
I hate that I can't be like everyone else.
I hate that everyone wants to be like everyone else.
So, that made me feel... a little bit better. I'm sure there is tons more that I could put on that list. In fact, I know there's a lot more that I could put on that list.
I hate that there are some things I never finish.
Things I Hate: A List
I hate walking through the rain in flip flops and my feet get wet. (But I was too lazy to put on shoes and socks.)
I hate when people are late (even though I'm late like, all the time).
I hate when people type like idiots. Example: omg!!! wat da fuk!? u r sooooo rite.
I hate when people are rude and get angry when someone else gets rude back.
I hate that I usually don't get rude back when people are rude to me.
I hate when I'm at work and people don't speak up; so I feel like an idiot asking them to repeat themselves fifty times; when I finally hear them they give me this weird....duh look. Like I could fucking hear you.
I hate that the only time I ever really don't care about what I say is when I'm drunk.
I hate that because people know I'm drunk, they don't hold it against me.
I hate when people try to justify cheating.
I hate when people cheat. (On anything)
I hate that the worst kind of cheating is on a lover.
I hate that someone has cheated on me.
I hate that people are superficial.
I hate that I don't know how to be superficial. (Does that make me a not-person?)
I hate that because I don't know how to be superficial, I don't keep friends for very long.
I hate that I can count the number of people who actually enjoy talking to me on four fingers.
I hate illegal drugs.
I hate that I can't do illegal drugs because of my mental illnesses.
I hate that I get super paranoid when I go into cities.
I hate being dirty.
I hate that cities are dirty and I could possibly get killed there.
I hate thinking about being killed.
I hate not being in bed.
I hate that I always want to be in bed.
I hate being stressed out.
I hate that I'm stressed out right now.
I hate that every person doesn't have the same rights.
I hate that no one sees that.
I hate my body.
I hate that my fiance claims to love my body.
I hate that I'm super naive.
I hate that I have very little common sense.
I hate that some families aren't really familial at all.
I hate my mental illnesses.
I hate that I'm going to have to take medicine every day for the rest of my life.
I hate that I'm dependent on it.
I hate that I have addictions.
I hate that I can't be like everyone else.
I hate that everyone wants to be like everyone else.
So, that made me feel... a little bit better. I'm sure there is tons more that I could put on that list. In fact, I know there's a lot more that I could put on that list.
I hate that there are some things I never finish.
Hello.
I'm making a blog instead of doing homework: I feel like creativity is a good excuse to not read Piers Plowman. My goal here is to make something that I don't have to worry about editing; my goal is to make something that I can use to try and work through all my fucked up thoughts. In truth, my Intro to Creative Non-Fiction class gave me the idea. I've been tossing it around in my head the last couple of days- and then the thought of if I have time came to mind. I'm a college student which means I don't have time to shower much less blog about pointless shit. But, I'm also a writer and that's a keen part of my identity. So, my hope for this is keeping a blog will help me come up with ideas for my writing.
In case you couldn't tell by my pen name, I'm also insane. But, I embrace my humanity; therefore, I'm not really as insane as I think I am. (Does that make sense?) Regardless, I have depression and anxiety issues; a lot of the time, these mental disorders make it difficult to have hobbies because I'm dead set on making them perfect. My goal is to have this be completely uncensored as a way to combat the perfection issues. So, not only am I successfully procrastinating homework, I'm also doing something for my greater well-being. If I got a grade for "trying to better yourself," I'm pretty sure at this point, I would have an A+. Yay for perfection.
Okay, okay. I have a ton of homework to do. I'm at work right now and only on page thirty of Piers Plowman. A fantastic text. Not something I feel like doing at 7:20 A.M. (Oh, by the way, I've been at work since 3 A.M.) I decided that it would be nice to help a co-worker out and pick up her shift so she could study.
I'm a stupid bitch.
This shift leaves me very little time to sleep. And if anything is learned in college it's that sleep is important.
My day looks a little something like this:
Work: 3 am to 8 am (check)
Work: 12 pm to 2 pm.
Class: 4 pm to 5:15 pm
Class: 7:10 pm to 9:40 pm
Work: 6 am to 8 am (Thursday)
I'm adding that last part in order to bring my schedule full circle and give everyone a good idea of the circularity of my life. Work- school- work. It's enough to drive anyone insane;therefore, Luna-C was born.
(Don't worry, my life isn't all shit. I haven't gotten to the good part yet.)
Now, I have expectations for this little Blog. I'm thinking that at particular times, it may get a little...intimate and provocative (not in a porno sort of way) but if I can get the raw truth down and all my emotions with it, well, my writing should improve and my topic pool should overflow. But, I guess that's the point of having something that's all yours- I could be talking to myself right now. I don't know if anyone is going to read this, ever. But... I can use this to my advantage. I have no unreal expectations regarding this.
In case you couldn't tell by my pen name, I'm also insane. But, I embrace my humanity; therefore, I'm not really as insane as I think I am. (Does that make sense?) Regardless, I have depression and anxiety issues; a lot of the time, these mental disorders make it difficult to have hobbies because I'm dead set on making them perfect. My goal is to have this be completely uncensored as a way to combat the perfection issues. So, not only am I successfully procrastinating homework, I'm also doing something for my greater well-being. If I got a grade for "trying to better yourself," I'm pretty sure at this point, I would have an A+. Yay for perfection.
Okay, okay. I have a ton of homework to do. I'm at work right now and only on page thirty of Piers Plowman. A fantastic text. Not something I feel like doing at 7:20 A.M. (Oh, by the way, I've been at work since 3 A.M.) I decided that it would be nice to help a co-worker out and pick up her shift so she could study.
I'm a stupid bitch.
This shift leaves me very little time to sleep. And if anything is learned in college it's that sleep is important.
My day looks a little something like this:
Work: 3 am to 8 am (check)
Work: 12 pm to 2 pm.
Class: 4 pm to 5:15 pm
Class: 7:10 pm to 9:40 pm
Work: 6 am to 8 am (Thursday)
I'm adding that last part in order to bring my schedule full circle and give everyone a good idea of the circularity of my life. Work- school- work. It's enough to drive anyone insane;therefore, Luna-C was born.
(Don't worry, my life isn't all shit. I haven't gotten to the good part yet.)
Now, I have expectations for this little Blog. I'm thinking that at particular times, it may get a little...intimate and provocative (not in a porno sort of way) but if I can get the raw truth down and all my emotions with it, well, my writing should improve and my topic pool should overflow. But, I guess that's the point of having something that's all yours- I could be talking to myself right now. I don't know if anyone is going to read this, ever. But... I can use this to my advantage. I have no unreal expectations regarding this.
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