Whew

I don't know if I did it on purpose or if it was just a nasty coincidence, but I predicted how my whole summer was going to go. A week or two before heading home for the summer, I updated my facebook account to let everyone know that my summer activities would go as follows:

Well I been workin’ in a coal mine
Goin’ down down
Workin’ in a coal mine
Whew about to slip down
Five o’clock in the mornin’
I’m up before the sun
When my work day is over
I’m too tired for havin’ fun
Lord I am so tired
How long can this go on
I been workin’ goin’ workin’
Whew about to slip down

It's completely accurate. It's a rare day I manage to stay up past 10 pm. Between getting off work and bed I usually opt for reading a book, rather than make an attempt to go and entertain/be entertained by other people.

Take today. I'm thinking about turning off my phone so I don't have to keep the plans I made on Tuesday. Does this make me a bitch, or just tired? Not sure. I suppose more of a bitch, because instead of seeing Sam I want to go to Jessica's used book store in Tacoma.

Later that same day...

My parents left for some place this morning, not sure where. Let me check. ... Glenacres Inn. Anyway, most of the day was a celebration of solitude, as most of my summer has been. I got lazy and hot and decided to walk around in my underwear after I got off work. Here it is, 6 hours later, and the idea of putting on the boy's boxers to sleep makes me feel all itchy and uncomfortable.

Things I did today: ate two bowls of Special K strawberries and 2 granola bars. That's all. But you should see how many empty Diet Pepsi cans are laying around. Found 3 different tubes of KY Jelly in my mom's nightstand. You didn't want to know, but neither did I. I stole her quarters for this year's laundry money as payback. Found $150 cash in an old wallet that's been sitting in a drawer of junk in my closet for about 3 years. Melted down 5 candles - 4 in a soap dish and 1 in my parents' hanging candle holder. The whole candle search was the original reason for digging through my parents' drawers. I learned my lesson there.

I've been reading up on my friends' summer blogs, and I'm feeling a definite lack of enthusiasm from my quarter. Oh, Bellingham will be lovely. I'm psyched about getting up there and finding a job and really digging my feet in to make this next year work. But there's also that part inside of me that is screaming "ohshitohshitohshit" over and over again. Certain people can make that voice go away. Left alone, however, and that voice will tear through me and prevent any kind of normal social functioning. I didn't read books all through junior high and high school because they were more interesting than the people around me. I read them because I needed that barrier to keep me from facing my fears.

Has anyone ever heard of this? "Face your fears"? I'm sure the term has been around forever, but it's a specific thing that the boys on my junior high bus did to each other. Face your fears meant that as you got off the bus, you had to trip and let everyone make fun of you. I only remember two of them ever doing it, but it came up at least once a week. Well, this year at Western I'm going to have to face my fears. I don't have a cousin and a clone to fall back on. I might have to take Chanel's definition of a break from the boy just to get myself into perspective. But I'm not going to hole up in my room and sit around in my underwear. I'm going to ride my bike and walk downtown and sit in the coffee shops and finally go down to the Downtown side of the waterfront.

I'm also going to buy some candles.

Stars - Your Ex-Lover is Dead

Man. I just spent a good 15 minutes trying to log in to Blogger. I guess Google acquired it officially since now and the last time I posted, and they tried to tell me I have no other login than my gmail account. Very annoying.

I've been in a bit of a blue funk all day. All week, really.

I may be driving myself nuts over nothing, but at least I've got the support of my parents. Most of the evening was spent wandering in and out of my dad's office, laying on the bed in there and complaining about how bored I was. About an hour ago I finally spilled what was on my mind, and he simply put his hand on my shoulder and said, "I've been watching you. You've put a lot of time and effort into this, and I'm proud. Even if things don't work out, I'm impressed." Maybe it didn't fix all the paranoia running through my head, but at least I know someone's got my back.

Excerpt from East of Eden

Cal crept quietly down the dark hall and edged into the room where he and his brother slept. He saw the outline of his brother's head against the pillow in the double bed, but he could not see whether Aron slept. Very gently he eased himself in on his side and turned slowly and laced his fingers behind his head and stared at the myriads of tiny colored dots that make up darkness. The window shade bellied slowly in and then the night wind fell and the worn shade flapped quietly against the window.
A gray, quilted melancholy descended on him. He wished with all his heart that Aron had not walked away from him out of the wagon shed. He wished with all his heart that he had not crouched listening at the hall door. He moved his lips in the darkness and made the words silently in his head and yet he could hear them.
"Dear Lord," he said, "let me be like Aron. Don't make me mean. I don't want to be. If you will let everybody like me, why, I'll give you anything in the world, and if I haven't got it, why, I'll go for to get it. I don't want to be mean. I don't want to be lonely. For Jesus' sake, Amen." Slow warm tears were running down his cheeks. His muscles were tight and he fought against making any crying sound or sniffle.
Aron whispered from his pillow in the dark, "You're cold. You've got a chill." He stretched out his hand to Cal's arm and felt the goose bumps there. He asked softly, "Did Uncle Charles have any money?"
"No," said Cal.
"Well, you were out there long enough. What did Father want to talk about?"
Cal lay still, trying to control his breathing.
"Don't you want to tell me?" Aron asked. "I don't care if you don't tell me."
"I'll tell," Cal whispered. He turned on his side so that his back was toward his brother. "Father is going to send a wreath to our mother. A big goddamn wreath of carnations."
Aron half sat up in bed and asked excitedly, "He is? How's he going to get it clear there?"
"On the train. Don't talk so loud."
Aron dropped back to a whisper. "But how's it going to keep fresh?"
"With ice," said Cal. "They're going to pack ice all around it."
Aron asked, "Won't it take a lot of ice?"
"A whole hell of a lot of ice," said Cal. "Go to sleep now."
Aron was silent, and then he said, "I hope it gets there fresh and nice."
"It will," said Cal. And in his mind he cried, "Don't let me be mean."

****

Now for some back story to help you understand. Cal and Aron are twin 11 year old boys. Aron is blond and beautiful and loved by everyone. Cal is dark and quiet and unrecognized. He lashes out against this rejection by hurting people, making them feel ignorant and distrusting themselves. Aron believes their mother is dead and buried across the country. Cal has just learned by eavesdropping that their mother is the owner of a whorehouse in town.

This was the passage that made me realize this book is everyone's life, wrapped up in fiction. I've personally had those nights where I've cried for acceptance, begged some unknown force to make me let go of my rejection and the cruel thoughts that follow. I can't imagine many who haven't. To not be afraid of those dark thoughts simply isn't human.

Anyway, anyone out there who can appreciate a good book, pick up East of Eden, by John Steinbeck. I cry every time I read it, so you should at least feel some slight twinge of emotion.

Sick Day

While laying stretched out across my bed at 10:30 this morning, trying to fall asleep again, I had the most wonderful daydream.

I imagined myself riding my bike around the block. Naked.

One Month Later!

I've been informed that my blog is in sad need of an update. So here it is: my life story.

Yesterday during an impulsive trip to the ortho, it was discovered that my teeth needed just a tiny bit more readjusting. I am now the proud new owner of a very, very painful new retainer (well, thank god the guy does invisalign, right? No braces!) Unfortunately, this leaves me feeling not too hot. The boy saw first hand how much it hurts to take them in and out, not to mention what eating is like. Soft foods only, thanks. Today when I screamed my frustration out for several minutes in an empty house, I decided that painkillers might be the only option. Alas, the good stuff is well over a year old. It seems that no matter how clumsy and accident-prone I tend to be, it's never enough to warrant a visit to the doctor. And perhaps year-old narcotics aren't the greatest idea. Twenty minutes into my shift at work, I broke out into a sweat, got very very dizzy and very very nauseous. Fortunately my boss is very understanding, and I was soon slowly driving the mile back home to my house, where I could lay down and wait for the room to stop spinning. The pills, naturally, ended up in the toilet.

In other news, I spent much of the afternoon with Tommy, Hayley, and Jessica. Before the two girls joined us, Tommy and I dinked around with my bike. We managed to get the tires filled again (a superhuman feat, I assure you) but the Slime experiment failed miserably. That green goo's been injected into my tires so many times that it started seeping out before we'd fully deflated my tires. Instead I just stole my dad's hand pump and I plan on taking it with me everywhere I go from now on. I think I'll tell him tomorrow evening when he gets home.

Other than that, my evening consisted of many episodes of Veronica Mars and several packets of Minute Made fruit snacks.

Oh, and one last thing. I am loving this whole room/bathroom/entire house to one's self for the better portion of the day. My bathroom is piled high with clothes in a way it never was when Scott was still around. My new big bed gets more attention than my computer chair. Books are strewn carelessly about, joined by the many cans of Diet Coke that my parents keep supplying. Home is Heaven.

HiC's Legal!

... In Canada. Elaina and I went out to Anthony's to celebrate. They gave us an option of waiting 20 minutes for a table or going directly to the bar to eat. We were both insulted and pleased because 1) we looked 21! and 2) we weren't in Canada. Damn.

Things I got: 48 capsule box of Sudafed Sinus Headache, bag of Riesens, Communist Party t-shirt, free lunch, free pastry from worker at free lunch's location, a 10 minute phone call from my mother, flowers (from the weekend), free dinner, and the fantastic memory of running down the street in heels and a sundress, holding my coat over my head as the rain poured down.

Happy Birthday to me!

My Bad

This is an apology to my weekend companion: I suck. Not only did I give the worst performance of a sane person ever seen, but I had the audacity to put the blame on someone else. Last night I feel deeply asleep around 9:30 and slept blissfully for 12 hours. I woke up, sore and sniffly, to the realization that the constant headache of Sunday evening wasn't just from being tired and whiny, but also from the oncoming spring cold. The next few days will be spent napping and spending time with the couch while I try to own up and girdle my loins for next weekend.

Also, my birthday is tomorrow.

Blurb

With all these beautiful sunny days in a row we're having, I'm fast running out of things to do. Yesterday I talked to a girl about kayaking -- plans fell through and here I am wondering what to do.

Last night was a fun late-night frolick with Ben. He wouldn't call it any kind of late, but since we left after dark, I say it counts. Saw the movie Stick It, which is fabulously entertaining when you have no idea what to expect.

Tonight is the BBQ! It's possible that it will be a huge flop - too many people invited, not enough confirmations. However, the simple idea of grilling burgers and wearing a sundress is enough for me.

The end of the year is bearing down on me with the same unexpected speed that the end of last summer did. I've realized that this life is one helluva fantastic game for me. Studying, playing, lounging in the sun at parks on a blanket or walking back and forth across campus at night -- I'm going to miss it all. The friends I've made are ones that I'm hesitant to lose. Who knows how summer will bring? It won't be like last summer, I already know that. RJ will be in Seattle, so no late-night cartwheeling rampages at Saghalie. Gas prices are shooting higher every day, so even the Seattle<-->Federal Way commute could hurt. Chanel, well, I like to hope we'll just forget all the distance that's come between us this year and just be summer sisters again. I'm pretty sure she thinks the same way, so it shouldn't be too bad. (There's also one huge stress factor that's been resolved. No more moping around 25% of the time.)

Not that I really have a whole lot of interest in worrying about the coming months. Daylight is practically endless, the sun is out and it just keeps getting warmer. How could anyone feel bad about life??

Tag

This game starts with 6 weird/quirky habits/things about yourself. Fun on a stick, love.

1. I sleep with a pillow between my legs. It's supposed to be good for the hips, but honestly, I don't care. It's just more comfortable.

2. I only floss my teeth in the morning.

3. When I was 13, I stole two of my oldest brother's CD's: Greenday's Dookie and Third Eye Blind's first album. These days, I cannot stand listening to Green Day, but turn 3eb on every day.

4. Every time someone else says 'good' instead of 'well', I feel smugly superior. Even though I usually make the same mistake.

5. If anyone else is in the house/dorm, I can't fully relax while taking a shower.

6. I like to eat sour cream straight from the carton.

Hot Apple Cider

I went on a bike ride this afternoon! It felt fantastic, it was the first time I've had time to go out and do some real hard exercise since the first week of this quarter. After a fiasco with pumping up Jack's bike tires so Elaina could ride it, we took off with sunglasses on and hair flying, legs pumping and hearts thumping. I had one destination in mind - Fairhaven Park (or Chuckanut Park, I've heard both names for it). People were scattered about the park on blankets and towels, soaking in the sun and enjoying the afternoon. Some people played basketball, some played frisbee, several clumps of girls were laying around in their bikinis, and one couple was chasing their pet rabbit around on the grass. I'm planning on going back many, many times -- but with a good book. The Tale of Genji may be the first novel ever written, but that doesn't make it a good read.

Home

My brother, his girlfriend, my cousin and I all went down to Bellingham's Secret Beach today. Much like the secret beach in Federal Way, there is a giant driftwood fort. That's where the similarities end. This beach extends forever in all directions, with no gross port boats in your way - literally, it's just you, the beach, and the rest of the bay. During low tide you can walk out onto the muddy dunes until you're almost a half mile away from the 'real' beach. Dogs love it, they go mad chasing the seagulls and often attempt to swim the impassable current out to the other sandbars.

About this fort, though. Before the police came and tore it down with chainsaws, it had two stories and multiple rooms. Brent showed me the extent of the fort -- it covered more ground than the house I'll be living in next year does. All sorts of inspiring phrases are written on the different pieces of driftwood - some are also painted in exotic colors. Locals who built the fort are currently working on resurrecting it - one large room is finished so far, lashed down with wires - and in the meantime, a sign dedicates the site "In Loving Memory of The Villa".

Basically, I love that place. Someday a dear, close friend of mine will find access to a car, and we'll drive all around Bellingham together, exploring and discovering all these fantastic locales. I don't know who this lovely friend will be, but in the meantime, Brent will do.

I need to: eat at Diego's, rediscover the route to the beach, stand in awe of the expensive mansions along the way, find Brent's pink house, and fire-bake hot dogs next to the ocean. Next week Elaina and I will try to arrange a BBQ at Lake Padden, and if that doesn't work, I'm going kayaking.

Eye of the Tiger

Mid-conversation with my roommates last night, I stumbled upon a fantastic concept: withdrawl. Not the kind I'm used to, where I miss my boyfriend/sleep/reading/anything I passionately love and desire and haven't been getting enough of. No, I'm talking about the kind of withdrawl where you stop going to class and receive a W on your transcript instead of an F. So here it is, kids: Not only did I get to learn about Islamic conflicts in the Middle East and read all sorts of materials I never would have picked up on my own, but I don't have to write a paper about it and I don't have to go back ever again. Celebrate!

So here it is, 2:30... There are plenty of options out there, but I think I'm going to take a nap.

My own true love, lost at sea.

I got all excited about the possibility of wearing one of my new dresses today... So of course the weather turned gross. It's actually not too bad, all cloudy and semi-raining but the ground's still dry enough to wear flipflops. I'm going to the doctor this afternoon, having them re-examine my toe and give me some kind of diagnosis. Maybe I'll just have them rip the whole thing out and let it grow back under a fake toenail, like Elaina claims she did.

Tristan und Isolde

In celebration of the recent amazing weather, I've spent no less than 8 hours, probably more, in direct sunlight within the last 48 hours. Hey, I know it's not a whole lot, but I have to go to class sometime. The result of these 8 hours of sun is that I now have a nice sunburn on my right shoulder and left boob. Weird? Definitely. But my face also has a healthy rosy tint, and I smell like sun and sun-induced sweat. It's my favorite smell in the world, second only to banana-scented sunscreen.

In other news, Nick and I went to Fred Meyer today in search of leftover Snickers Eggs. Our search was a failure, or a success, depending how you look at it. Vault soda (aka Surge reincarnated) is selling for 79 cents! It was delicious, and I stayed awake all through math today. Yes, those two facts are directly correlated.

Tonight I just may be watching a chick flick with 'Lainey. This Tuesday is, surprisingly, shaping up to be not so bad.

Wednesday AM

I have a test in 45 minutes that I have neither studied for nor bothered to read the textbook for. I failed a math test on Friday (40% whoo-hoo!) but essentially aced my Spanish test yesterday. Today I am going to stop trying to read The Question of Palestine (I went to class. I heard what we were supposed to get out of it), and instead jump joyfully into the Satanic Verses. Other plans for today include: sleeping, talking to teacher about said failed math test, perhaps watch a movie with my cousin's boyfriend (or go jean shopping with cousin, whoever wants me more), and finish getting dressed. Right now I am only wearing one shoe, and I know someone who might be mad about that.

The moral of this story is that I have nothing to talk about except how busy I am. I am just that uninteresting. I'm going to be one of those pregnant women who only talk about their pregnancy, then proceed into being one of those moms who only talk about their kids. My life can only associate with the here-and-now because I have no imagination. Sorry all you others who are unlike me, I can't talk to you. I just wouldn't understand.

Technocakes are the new fad. Goodbye, Cake Cakes.

On a normal day, I would kill for just two whole hours to do nothing. And by nothing I mean play on the computer and take pictures of myself and play with my hair.

But then we have today. The notorious Wednesday. Yes, yes, I know I had the exact same schedule every Wednesday last quarter, but going from constant stress and over-work and absolutely zero downtime to... this... this smorgasbord of free time... it scares me. I'm like a mole who's been digging, digging, digging away in his dark little tunnel who suddenly hits the surface and is surrounded by this world of bright lights and dogs barking and open air. I don't know where to start. Instead, I find myself sifting through Cosmo, listening to Moby, taking pictures of myself and playing with my hair.

I have about 3 hours before I even need to start thinking about that movie I'm supposed to watch tonight. In the meantime, I'm sorely tempted to go down to Haggen and buy expensive facial cleansers, lotions, bronzers and eye-makeup remover. (Not eye drops, though. I have more eye drops than any person could plausibly use in their lifetime. Hey, I'm not a stoner! I just get seriously over-concerned every time something abnormal happens to me, provoking me to go out and buy tons and tons of different medicines to cure whatever that abnormal color may be. Turns out it was pinkeye, so the Visine was pointless.)

I don't think I'll be buying any facial cleansers. Maybe a moisturizer, because I really do need one of those. But if I do make it down to Haggen, I'll be going for the fruit. Mmm, just the thought of a ripe peach, or a juicy mango, or better yet --- freshly cut pineapple!! -- has me very, very excited.

New pictures on Flickr, by the way.

Feeling like a Criminal

If you haven't noticed it already, I got a flickr account! (That's what that pretty flashy little box is over on your right.) Unfortunately, life mostly consists of homework and studying right now. These things don't make for good photo ops. Perhaps tomorrow at Open Mic something will inspire me, but mostly, I'm holding onto the thing for parties, get-togethers, and when RJ's not looking.

Breakdown

You know you're stressed when a series of cute animal photos with cliche phrases makes you cry.

I walked out mid-class today, shaking and sweating, heart beating rapidly. It's time to sleep.