Well, it's happened.
The old year ended. A new one began.
(Somehow this always takes me by surprise. "Whaaat?! It's January again?")
How did that happen so fast? Where did 2010 go? What's going to happen this next year?
I have one whole year to play with. A brand new, fresh, lovely 365 days to make whatever I want out of myself and my life. How fun.
But what happened last year? What did I accomplish? What did I do?
I spent a lot of time in my dark place. Wallowing in my self pity. Feeling oh-so-sorry for myself. Goal for 2011: No more of that, please. (Thank you.)
Friends came and went. New, old, funny, irritating beyond belief, fake, accidental, unexpected. I argued with some. Laughed with more. Cried on some shoulders (and been cried on). Helped a few. Lied for others. A fair few stuck with me through the seasons, for which I will be eternally grateful. Others disappeared into the void we call "life". That's okay, though. Goal for 2011: Remain loyal, true, and honest.
I got a job. Kind of a big deal, folks. A real job. A place where I can grow and laugh and learn. I love my job and everyone there. (That part is the "big deal" part.) Goal for 2011: Keep it. Impress everyone with my awesomeness. Maybe they'll decide to like me.
I moved out. I am no longer under my mother's wing (still not sure how I feel about that). My 3 roommates are just lovely and I adore them. They make my life better on a daily basis. Goal for 2011: Make their lives as great as they've made mine.
And school started. (Finally, yes, I know. School.) First semester ended quite nicely. I have high hopes for next semester. Goal for 2011: Straight As, baby.
My dear older brother returned with honor. Hooray! He isn't nearly as weird as I was expecting, though he is set on finding himself a little wifey sometime soon. Careful, ladies, he's on the prowl. Goal for 2011: Let him get married first. Seeing as I'm more in love with myself than the idea of marriage and companionship, this won't be too difficult. I hope. If not, the fake ring on my finger will ward off any eligible bachelors.
Thanks to the lovely lemonade diet, I got down to my goal weight. Thanks to lovely cookies, cakes, ice creams, and Skittles, I gained everything back. Goal for 2011: Just stay at my healthy weight. Thank you, Planet Fitness (and the amazing tanning beds).
I've finally let some things go. Goodbye and good riddance. Goal for 2011: Don't let it back.
I spent more time straightening my hair than I did at church. Goals for 2011: Embrace the princess curls. And go back to church. Yes, the singles ward is bad. But isn't Hell worse?
My piano sat forgotten and cold for the better part of the year. My poor hands can barely remember the tunes I once played with my eyes closed. Goal for 2011: practice, practice, practice! I'll get it back. Just you wait.
I gave up on love this year. I decided love didn't exist and I let my heart disappear into a dark, infinite abyss. Goal for 2011: Find my heart. Love or no love, I do have a heart. I am not some soulless robot.
Last, but not least, I lost and found myself. I searched and searched. And then...poof!...There I was. Just waiting to be discovered. And I love every bit and piece and thought and feeling. I found me, and I'm perfectly happy with that person. Goal for 2011: Stay me. Never lose me again.
The end.
(...or the beginning?)
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Yahtzee
“Dating is like the game Yahtzee. You roll the dice and have a 1 in 6 chance of getting someone attractive, a 1 in 6 chance of getting someone funny, a 1 in 6 chance of getting someone smart, a 1 in 6 chance of getting someone hard-working, a 1 in 6 chance of getting someone who really cares, and a 1 in 6 chance of getting someone who loves you back…and then you have a 1 in 46656 chance of getting someone with all of them.”
Friday, December 10, 2010
Butterfly
Sometimes I like to pretend I have a social life.
I get really into it, too. I'll spend lotsa time with people and be all open and talkative and fun. I am in the zone. The social zone. The I-have-friends-and-acquaintances-and-talk-to-lotsa-people-and-all-that-jazz zone.
And suddenly I'll realize.
Oh.
This isn't really my style.
And then I go back in hiding again.
That is all.
I get really into it, too. I'll spend lotsa time with people and be all open and talkative and fun. I am in the zone. The social zone. The I-have-friends-and-acquaintances-and-talk-to-lotsa-people-and-all-that-jazz zone.
And suddenly I'll realize.
Oh.
This isn't really my style.
And then I go back in hiding again.
That is all.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Everything I needed to know about life...
Replacing brake pads, changing the oil, and rotating tires really isn't as difficult as you'd think.
Archery is cool. And always will be. So is learning to shoot a gun.
Keep an emergency kit handy at all times. You never know when you'll get stuck in the mountains for a freezing night and need a blanket, water, and food.
Practice makes perfect.
Cracked wheat hot cereal is delicious. Even if you have to grind the wheat with a manual wheat-grinder.
Take a coat.
Less is always more. Be happy with the little things in life. You don't need to be spending gobs of money to appreciate and enjoy.
Same with parties and get-togethers. A few people over for a quiet evening of dinner and cards is much more enjoyable (and much less stressful) than a loud, crowded event.
Hard work pays off. Even manual labor. Especially manual. It builds character, too.
Don't argue back until you eat something.
Bring chapstick when camping. And toilet paper.
Speaking of camping, it doesn't count unless you're in a tent and the bathrooms are across the campground. Camp trailers = cheating.
Hang out with your family. They're cool even if you don't think so.
Pay your tithing. You'll be blessed in more ways than you could imagine.
Hard tack (home-made cracker biscuit things) last forever and almost taste good.
Don't throw the remote control at your brother.
Don't bite your siblings. Or push them into ant-hills. Or punch them in the face. And don't screech too loud if your sibling punches you back.
Look at the engine before taking it in.
Impress everyone with your awesomeness.
Listen to your parents. They really are right. I don't care what you say.
Bean & Bacon soup with crispy, buttery french bread. Tater tots. Home-made pizzas. Quesadillas. They'll always be favorites.
Smile.
Time and effort mean more than size and expense. My most memorable Christmas was home-made.
Do what you love, and love what you do.
Respect your elders.
Lord of the Rings. The Hobbit. Star Wars. And Indiana Jones. 'Nuff said.
Oh, and Jason and the Argonauts.
Having a thousand pounds of sugar, salt, and dry beans stuffed in a closet counts as food storage.
Read Hank the Cowdog. Read it again and again and again. Out loud, with voices and everything.
Work hard. Perseverance pays off. Never give anything less than your absolute best.
They really will pull the car over or turn around. Don't test them.
Use a tow rope instead of a chain. When towing, it's okay to go faster than 15 mph.
Laugh out loud.
And, of course, eat a worm.
Archery is cool. And always will be. So is learning to shoot a gun.
Keep an emergency kit handy at all times. You never know when you'll get stuck in the mountains for a freezing night and need a blanket, water, and food.
Practice makes perfect.
Cracked wheat hot cereal is delicious. Even if you have to grind the wheat with a manual wheat-grinder.
Take a coat.
Less is always more. Be happy with the little things in life. You don't need to be spending gobs of money to appreciate and enjoy.
Same with parties and get-togethers. A few people over for a quiet evening of dinner and cards is much more enjoyable (and much less stressful) than a loud, crowded event.
Hard work pays off. Even manual labor. Especially manual. It builds character, too.
Don't argue back until you eat something.
Bring chapstick when camping. And toilet paper.
Speaking of camping, it doesn't count unless you're in a tent and the bathrooms are across the campground. Camp trailers = cheating.
Hang out with your family. They're cool even if you don't think so.
Pay your tithing. You'll be blessed in more ways than you could imagine.
Hard tack (home-made cracker biscuit things) last forever and almost taste good.
Don't throw the remote control at your brother.
Don't bite your siblings. Or push them into ant-hills. Or punch them in the face. And don't screech too loud if your sibling punches you back.
Look at the engine before taking it in.
Impress everyone with your awesomeness.
Listen to your parents. They really are right. I don't care what you say.
Bean & Bacon soup with crispy, buttery french bread. Tater tots. Home-made pizzas. Quesadillas. They'll always be favorites.
Smile.
Time and effort mean more than size and expense. My most memorable Christmas was home-made.
Do what you love, and love what you do.
Respect your elders.
Lord of the Rings. The Hobbit. Star Wars. And Indiana Jones. 'Nuff said.
Oh, and Jason and the Argonauts.
Having a thousand pounds of sugar, salt, and dry beans stuffed in a closet counts as food storage.
Read Hank the Cowdog. Read it again and again and again. Out loud, with voices and everything.
Work hard. Perseverance pays off. Never give anything less than your absolute best.
They really will pull the car over or turn around. Don't test them.
Use a tow rope instead of a chain. When towing, it's okay to go faster than 15 mph.
Laugh out loud.
And, of course, eat a worm.
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Friday, December 3, 2010
Wonderland Drug
Last night I was so very sick and for the life of me I couldn't fall asleep. My roommate kindly brought me some cold medicine that would help me out, and I gladly drank a double dose. I was told that the medicine would knock me out within thirty minutes - twenty with luck.
For the next hour I tossed and turned. I couldn't sleep at all. I couldn't even stay still, even though I was absolutely exhausted. Maybe the caffeine I drank earlier in the day mixed with the cold meds messed it all up. My vision was blurry and doubled, and I just wandered around the room for a while. I sat on the floor. I sat on my roommate's bed (she was gone). I paced. I tried to do a word search game on my phone. I sat and looked at it for a full five minutes until I remembered I couldn't see. I rocked back and forth. I felt like I was having weird hallucinations - everything looked strange and different and new. It was like I was seeing my bedroom for the first time.
My brain was like, "Oh, I have a tv in my room. Oh, I have a quilt. Oh, there is a monkey. Oh, there is my phone. Oh, we have carpet. Fuuuuzzy carpet. Oh, I have work tomorrow. Oh, there is a coat on the floor. Green coat. Green? Goose coat. Oh, look, a pillow. Oh, my boots. Bootbootbootbootboooooots. Oh, what is that light? Oh? Oh? Oh? Oh. Oh, it's my phone charger. Oh, it's blue. Oh, my hair is curly. Oh, it's brown. Oh, it's really dark in here so I shouldn't even be able to see my hair right now especially since it's all piled into a bun on top of my head." Literally, that is what I was thinking while I rocked back and forth. (That's all I can remember, at least.)
Finally, finally, my brain decided it was time to clock out. I. Passed. Out. I might as well have been knocked in the head with a bat. But the weirdness didn't stop. It just continued into my dreams, which were like Alice in Wonderland on steroids.
Basically it was terrifying and freaking amazing at the same time. I think I was drunk.
For the next hour I tossed and turned. I couldn't sleep at all. I couldn't even stay still, even though I was absolutely exhausted. Maybe the caffeine I drank earlier in the day mixed with the cold meds messed it all up. My vision was blurry and doubled, and I just wandered around the room for a while. I sat on the floor. I sat on my roommate's bed (she was gone). I paced. I tried to do a word search game on my phone. I sat and looked at it for a full five minutes until I remembered I couldn't see. I rocked back and forth. I felt like I was having weird hallucinations - everything looked strange and different and new. It was like I was seeing my bedroom for the first time.
My brain was like, "Oh, I have a tv in my room. Oh, I have a quilt. Oh, there is a monkey. Oh, there is my phone. Oh, we have carpet. Fuuuuzzy carpet. Oh, I have work tomorrow. Oh, there is a coat on the floor. Green coat. Green? Goose coat. Oh, look, a pillow. Oh, my boots. Bootbootbootbootboooooots. Oh, what is that light? Oh? Oh? Oh? Oh. Oh, it's my phone charger. Oh, it's blue. Oh, my hair is curly. Oh, it's brown. Oh, it's really dark in here so I shouldn't even be able to see my hair right now especially since it's all piled into a bun on top of my head." Literally, that is what I was thinking while I rocked back and forth. (That's all I can remember, at least.)
Finally, finally, my brain decided it was time to clock out. I. Passed. Out. I might as well have been knocked in the head with a bat. But the weirdness didn't stop. It just continued into my dreams, which were like Alice in Wonderland on steroids.
Basically it was terrifying and freaking amazing at the same time. I think I was drunk.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Fix
Deep breaths. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Inhale. Exhale.
His head pounds as he glances around the dim living room from his corner. A tear in the second-hand sofa. Muddy boots by the door. Paint chipped and peeling.
The throbbing increases, blurring his vision and making his eyes sting. Almost like the thump-thump-thump of a bass drum. Constant. Ceaseless. His hands tremble and cold chills make him shiver and sink deeper into his corner. He pushes himself into it as tight as he can, further from the case. It stares back invitingly, beckoning him forward.
Don't do it. You don't need it.
Head cradled in his palms, he repeats the phrase in a whisper. Over and over he reminds himself that he should be strong. He can be strong. He will be strong. It seems he's there for hours, though it's only a matter of minutes before his head snaps up in defiance.
As soon as he makes the decision the pain starts to dissipate, waning as he draws closer to the case. The frustration, anger, and ache dissolve, leaving only his raw and desperate need. His hands tremble with excitement now as he fumbles with the package. His breath quickens.
The needle suddenly slips through his shaking fingers and falls to the floor. A clear ping! rings out through the silent apartment as it clatters against the dingy tile. The metallic sound catches him off-guard. The dire need alleviates just a bit, causing him to hesitate for the smallest moment. His breath sticks in his throat as he reaches to pick up the needle.
Don't do it. You don't need it.
No.
He grabs the needle and scrapes the tip roughly against the tile, making sure it's completely ruined. Yelling in rage - at himself and his need - he throws what's left of the syringe against a wall, finally collapsing into his corner once again. He hugs his knees to his chest, shaking. He closes his eyes and rocks softly.
The process then begins again, with the little case glaring at him from the table.
Don't do it. You don't need it.
His head pounds as he glances around the dim living room from his corner. A tear in the second-hand sofa. Muddy boots by the door. Paint chipped and peeling.
The throbbing increases, blurring his vision and making his eyes sting. Almost like the thump-thump-thump of a bass drum. Constant. Ceaseless. His hands tremble and cold chills make him shiver and sink deeper into his corner. He pushes himself into it as tight as he can, further from the case. It stares back invitingly, beckoning him forward.
Don't do it. You don't need it.
Head cradled in his palms, he repeats the phrase in a whisper. Over and over he reminds himself that he should be strong. He can be strong. He will be strong. It seems he's there for hours, though it's only a matter of minutes before his head snaps up in defiance.
As soon as he makes the decision the pain starts to dissipate, waning as he draws closer to the case. The frustration, anger, and ache dissolve, leaving only his raw and desperate need. His hands tremble with excitement now as he fumbles with the package. His breath quickens.
The needle suddenly slips through his shaking fingers and falls to the floor. A clear ping! rings out through the silent apartment as it clatters against the dingy tile. The metallic sound catches him off-guard. The dire need alleviates just a bit, causing him to hesitate for the smallest moment. His breath sticks in his throat as he reaches to pick up the needle.
Don't do it. You don't need it.
No.
He grabs the needle and scrapes the tip roughly against the tile, making sure it's completely ruined. Yelling in rage - at himself and his need - he throws what's left of the syringe against a wall, finally collapsing into his corner once again. He hugs his knees to his chest, shaking. He closes his eyes and rocks softly.
The process then begins again, with the little case glaring at him from the table.
Don't do it. You don't need it.
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