I want ice cream

So this may be more of a serious one, since I kind of have to make up for the offensive post yesterday.

Yesterday afternoon, in the midst of my sadness (yes, yesterday was pretty rough), I experienced something all of a sudden that I hadn't in a long, long time. I finally felt like myself. My anxiety completely melted away for a while. I felt such a wave of relief, like things are finally starting to look up. 

So I just changed my bacon calendar, and on this day it says:

"Of all the lessons in life that I've learned the hard way, the ones involving frontal nudity and hot bacon grease seem to be the most enduring." -Anonymous

First of all, if I said something like that, I would let the world know my name, because that is a nugget of wisdom if I ever saw one. 

Actually, I had another crazy dream last night, so I guess I'll talk about that. Some irrelevant stuff happened, as it does in all dreams, but the significant part began when I went on a trip. I don't know how I ended up on this trip, but when I turned to my handy dandy internet to interpret everything, it made a lot of sense to my waking life. 

It started on a bus. And I just remember trying to sleep on the bus. Then I woke up and we were driving through the desert for some strange reason. Then somehow we ended up in Colorado, and we were entering mountains, and we were driving up the mountains. I remember amusement park rides somewhere in there too, but the most vivid part was when we were driving up this very winding curvy road, and then finally we got to the top and there was a grocery store so I was like "OMG I NEED ICE CREAM." So I was searching this store for my ice cream (specifically for Ben and Jerry's, because that stuff ROCKS) and I remember that I found some, but for some reason it wasn't the right kind, and so I had to go back and search again and I had some trouble finding it, but I think I did eventually find some. This is when I drifted back into awake land. 

So apparently, sleeping denotes peace of mind. It may also symbolise new beginnings and renewal, which makes sense, given my state of mind yesterday. A desert symbolises loss and misfortune. Mountains symbolise major obstacles and challenges to overcome. The road was long and windy, but like I said, we did eventually make it to the top, which symbolises that I have achieved and realised my goals. I have recognised my full potential. Climbing a mountain signifies my determination and ambition, even if the road gets really windy and curvy and I am scared that I'm going to fall off the mountain. Apparently ice cream is good luck. It signifies pleasure and satisfaction in love and with life. 

This is the first time that a dream has ever made sense like this before. 

Over the past four weeks, I've begun to do a lot of soul searching, thinking about everything that happened, and what I want. I realise that time has done me a lot of good here. I realise that I had to take the time to get up the windy, curvy mountain road, and finally reach the top before I can have any kind of success in love. I remember being extremely nervous the whole trip, scared of what might happen, since the driver of the bus seemed a little drunk and reckless, but I made it to the top.

I'm sorry that this post wasn't remotely funny, and is more of me just talking to myself, but I really had to make up for the offensive post about midgets yesterday. Life is all about balance. 

This one has midgets!

Well, I guess since I'm up an hour before my alarm goes off and there is zero hope of me returning to sleep, it's a good time to write in here. Clear my mind before classes a little bit.

I guess now would be a good time to talk about the one armed midget I saw last week. And before you say something like "LITTLE PEOPLE. SHOW SOME SENSITIVITY," I think midget is a better word. Midget just sounds awesome. It's like a state of mind. Like, "don't mess around with me, I'm a midget." Little people sounds like something my sister used to play with when she was little. Little people belong in a little toy house and come with weird clothes that Velcro in the back. Better than those dumb rubber clothes that Polly Pocket and all of her dumb little friends came with. They are the poster children for abstinence. Can you imagine how that would go? Polly has a nice date with her friend, and things get a little hot, but then it's like "haha mutha fucka, good luck with the rubber bra. Also, my pants are a bitch to remove. Good luck getting any tonight!" Actually I guess Barbie had it a little worse, with the painted on underwear. Maybe that's why her and Ken broke up. Things just "weren't working out..."

Anyway, back to the midget, although that was quite an entertaining tangent. I also don't like the name dwarf, because it sounds like you are trying to pass as some kind of mythical creature. You don't live in fantasy land, okay? You're just missing a chromosome.

Although I guess it's kind of unfair to me to be saying this stuff, since I am, in fact, not a midget/dwarf/little person. In a way though, I kind of wish I was. Now, if you're a midget reading this right now, and you literally have fumes coming out of your ears, don't stop reading, because it gets good. I know it can't be that great living a life with a step stool attached to your hip, or having people constantly ask to give you piggy back rides (actually no, that would be pretty sweet), but think of the sense of community. I've seen that show "Little People Big World," and I see the conventions for midgets. Seriously. A bunch of midgets get together and just bond and get drunk and have fun. I'm totally jealous. Where do you honestly think that I'm going to find a convention for a bunch of other white, suburban girls? That's right. Nowhere.

But back to the one armed midget I saw the last week. I looked at that guy and thought "Damn, that guy really drew the shortest straw there is." No pun intended. But I could see myself complaining about things to this guy and just seeing the look on his face. Whenever I think about complaining about how bad things are for me, in my mind I can't help but see the face of this man, with a "seriously, wtf" expression on his face saying to me, "you're complaining about heartbreak? "I only have one arm. I'm also a midget." Seriously, my life may be bad right now, but that guy will ALWAYS be a one armed midget. Condemned to getting offered piggyback rides for the rest of his life. What a terrible existence.

Brace yourselves, this one actually is pretty hefty.

Okay, so I'm actually writing this yesterday, which is today, but tomorrow it will be yesterday, and tomorrow will be today. I know that's confusing, but whatever. This is going to be the single most motivational stuff I've ever written and I need to get it on cyber paper before the feeling is gone. Alright, so today (yesterday) I was feeling really upset, really down, just like the world sucks and my life sucks and bla bla bla things will never get better. But you know what? Somewhere in thinking like that, I had one of my little "epiphanies." First off, I just like the word. Second, I just really like the concept. I love it when I'm just walking around, minding my own business, then BAM, a great realisation hits me in the face. It wasn't just one of those ones where you just feel like running and you feel very motivated for about an hour and it wears off, but this is one that prompts a deep awakening, I would call it. Finally. For the past week, I've had dreams involving storms, and I'm like, thanks, subconscious, for letting me know that things are stormy. I'm not reminded of that nearly ENOUGH in my awake life. But upon interpreting it on the internet, dreaming about storms can apparently signal a "spiritual awakening" that is about to happen. So you know what? Here it is.

So, to no surprise to anyone reading this, I have had a lot of emotional shit going on lately. I've been an absolute mess, I haven't been myself, I've been this moody, sad, brooding monster who lives in her bed and tries to nap at 3 pm to shake off the intense feelings that she just doesn't want to deal with. I experienced a loss in my life that has prompted all of my inner demons to just come out and play. So I did what any emotional, creative person does, and I was like, "Hey! I'll start a blog!" So I did. I've been at it for about a week, which is a record for me and trying new things, but everyday when I write something, I can't help but notice that I don't have any followers, and the only person who comments on anything is my mom. Which is fine, and thank you mom for all the support, but I know you'll love me unconditionally no matter what, so of course you like my blog. And I did get a couple of people here and there to say that they really like it, and it's really motivated me to keep going, but I can't shake off the feeling of being nothing. To introduce a metaphor, I feel as though I'm this really intellectual person, but I'm lecturing in a dirty, poorly lit closet. I feel like this blog sits somewhere in a dark alley of the internet, and that if I didn't go out and promote it, that no one would really read it. But that's okay, because I'm reminded of a bunch of things through this:

It's a blog. It's on the internet. Do you know how many people have blogs? That's like expecting to be famous just because you have a decent singing talent. Yeah, you and about half of the population. I think about Adele, because she's awesome. Do I think Adele really expected to be famous overnight? Hell no. Did she work really hard day and night to achieve success? Hell yeah she did. There probably were a lot of times that she did just sing for her mother and that's it. There probably were times when she felt really low, I mean have you heard her album 21? That is an entire album of heartbreak. Adele probably had a TON of days where she didn't feel like getting out of bed and doing anything. But you know what? She did get out of bed, and she continued on. She sang her heart out and now she has a ton of fame, a ton of money, people love her, and to put a cherry on top, she even has what I would think is probably one of the cutest kids ever.

Alright I'm getting distracted, so I have to focus.

So I started a journal, because writing always helps me, and I was just discussing my feelings, and then all of a sudden, my fingers just started typing at lightning speed. Stuff like:

Yeah, I'm really sad now, and I'm really down, and it feels like life came up, punched me in the face, stole my wallet, and then left me there with nothing but a broken arm and a twitchy eye. But you know what? That's life. And you know what else? Nothing and I seriously mean, not a single thing in the universe is going to get better if I just allow myself to sit here and get depressed and worry about everything. NOTHING. If I continue on the same way I have, the seasons will change, but I will be the same person. Time can do everything it can for me, but I have to allow it to heal me. Kind of like cholesterol medicine. You can take it all you want, but if you're not changing your diet and exercising more, then the medicine really can't do much for you in the long run. I need to start doing things for myself. I need to start exercising and build some self confidence, because I can't rely on other people to build it for me. Yeah, I know I say and do a lot of weird stuff, and I know that I do have my imperfections, but in the long run, if you don't like me, that's your own damn problem, because I have a bunch of good qualities that you're missing out on. Yeah, I have had kids bully me through school, but you know what? The past is the past. You cannot change it. I was thinking earlier that I would give anything to go back about two months, and then I thought to myself, no. I can't relive the past. I can take the good memories, but honestly, all I have right now is the future and the present. And when you waste the present, it's a waste of the future. Time is not a renewable resource, so when you waste it, it's gone. And you won't ever get it back. At times I really wish more than anything that I could go back into the past and right all of my wrongs, but this is reality, and this is the hand I've been dealt, and it doesn't do anything for me to cry about the past. I just have to play the hand I've got the best I can.

Life has its ups and its downs. Life hands you flowers, life hands you happiness, life hands you lemons, and life can beat you to a pulp in a dark alley. Life really is a bitch sometimes. But if life didn't hand you the lemons, then you would never appreciate the flowers. If all that you ever experienced was happiness, then how the hell are you supposed to appreciate it? It just becomes normal. It becomes your day to day life. I had so much happiness in my life for the past couple of years, and while it was yanked from me, next time I experience the happiness, I will appreciate it with everything I've got. I will never take a single day for granted. Actually, I probably will at some point, since I am a human being.

It just sucks a lot some days. Some days I feel like screaming, and some days I'm so sad I can barely move, but I have to keep telling myself that things will get better. They will. This has been the longest, coldest winter I've been through in a while, and before you say something like "Actually, this winter has been pretty mild," or "You've never experienced a New England winter!" I meant metaphorically. I long for Spring each and every day, but I know that I cannot just snap my fingers and make it happen. It will take time. All good things in life take time. One day the sun will shine for me, but for now, I just have to brave the storm.

And it's going to suck. Like I said, there will still be days where I can't feel anything. There will be days that I worry incessantly about really stupid things that I shouldn't worry about. I can't help it. I wish I could just snap my fingers and make all of the anxiety go away. But I can't. Even as I write all of this motivational stuff, there is still something inside me that is constantly worrying and is sad and angry at the world. There is something inside me that wonders why everything went the way it did. I felt so empowered when I was out walking earlier, and now I feel down again. I constantly feel trapped between the rock and the hard place, but it's a reminder of the struggle I have ahead. I will get through this if it's the last thing I do. I can't snap my fingers and make everything go back to normal, but I can overcome this adversity. I will navigate the rough waters. I will weather the storm. I will become the person I am deep down inside. I am too strong not to. I've overcome this stuff before, and I'll do it again, whether things work out the way I want them to, or I ultimately end up alone. Eventually, I will look back on this and think of how far I've come. It really is a day to day struggle, but I'll fight until the end.

I now know why self confidence is so respectable and sexy. Because people really have to work for that shit.

Also, actually, I'm going to post this today, not tomorrow.

Wake up and smell the hormones.

Alright, I guess this post is going to start off kind of tense, because I feel tense. I'm a lonely, extremely hormonal young lady, and valentines day HAS to be tomorrow. So it's safe to say I'm a little on edge. Lets first start with: "why I hate being a woman."

Seriously, why are our brains wired the way that they are?? It's like when woman was being created, god was chilling out in his human making factory, or probably his laboratory, because I think at this point he was experimenting, and moved his hand a certain way, accidentally knocking over the hormone jar all over his experiment. Kind of like knocking salt over and it goes everywhere, and you're like "fuck it. I'm not starting over." Mom and dad can have salty spaghetti and meatballs. So that's kind of what I feel like, some salty experiment gone wrong. The terrible thing is, men don't understand because they don't go through it. I mean, I've heard people refer to something called "man PMS," which should honestly have another name. Seriously, man PMS is when they just get kind of moody, like their football team lost or something. Or they're tired. Being tired is not even REMOTELY similar to PMS, nor shall it be referred to as such. Because I can guarantee you I will never see a man crying his eyes out on the bathroom floor just because he feels crazy and fat. And for that, I am the most jealous I have ever been. Last year, my first year on campus, I had a transgender roommate, and you know what, I don't blame him for wanting to be a man!! (Side note, I say "him" because that is what he asked to be called, and if I'm going to mention him in my blog without asking, I at least feel the need to be a little respectful. Personally, I don't really give a shit if you reply by saying "you mean HER," and will probably not be listening anyway). The great thing about being a woman too, is that I get to deal with this crazy moodiness MORE THAN ONCE. I had it during puberty, I get it anytime I consider any hormonal birth control, I get it during pregnancy, then I get it during menopause, then finally, when I'm old and grey, I get to appreciate being a kick ass old lady. Except my knees will probably be too bad at that point to appreciate the normalness, so I'll just start sleeping all day and watching soaps. On a good note, my iPad offered to autocorrect the word "hormonal" to "normal" at one point, so at least something loves me...

Wow, that was tense. I wrote that this morning. I think it really is the holiday that we shall not speak of that is happening tomorrow. Seriously, stupid holiday, you really picked the absolute best time to come around. And I say that sarcastically. It's so much rougher when you are on campus. Think about it. If you're single on Valentine's Day, it's all like "okay, well I'll just sit here and cuddle with my dog, and drink a shit ton of wine, and I'll be okay." However, being on campus provides some problems.

1) I don't have a comfortable couch.
2) We are not allowed to have dogs.
3) We are not allowed to have wine.

So yeah, I'm in a bit of a pickle. Stuck between a rock and a hard place, with a pickle. I don't even like pickles...

It's really not that bad though, I guess. I could be a one-armed midget. I saw one of those last week and it really put my life in perspective, but that's a post for another day.

Prepare yourselves, this one is hefty. Actually not really.

Yeah, this post is probably going to be the mother of all posts, because honestly, I'm coming up with all of these ideas, and it's backing up my blog schedule by like, three weeks. So I basically just need an idea purge and I figure this blank white space is the best place to do it.

First off, I'm going to talk about dreams, because they are one of the coolest things your brain does. See, your brain is all like "well, eight hours is a long time to sleep, so here, I'm gonna tell you some stories." Except you're in them, which is the ultimate kind of fun. Except when they're bad, but we won't go there for now. Now, I always take this a step further, because I honestly believe that your subconscious is this magical place in your brain that senses things that you don't notice. Kind of like a fortune teller, except for the present. I always like to turn to the internet, because you can find a nice little dream dictionary and I look up what everything means. Now, I've had two pretty vivid dreams this past week, and I was going to interpret them here and now, but that's what a dream journal is for, and I'm pretty sure no one gives a shit what's going on in my fucked up subconscious anyway. :)

Next, I guess I'm going to talk about the concept of facebook and why it's so dumb. Then I will attempt to explain why I'm still on it all the time, but will fail miserably. Okay, so I think Mark Zuckerberg kind of had the right idea at first, and I'm sure was completely unaware of the fact that he would revolutionise the way that we socialise. Actually, I changed my mind, I'm just going to talk about the concept of unfriending. First of all, it's not "defriending." That just sounds dumb. Second, of all of the people on my facebook friends list, I would say that besides family, only about 10 other people are people who I actually consider friends. When I say friends, I mean people who are allowed to call me at 3:47 am with a personal problem. I mean people who I would actually consider taking the advice of. People who deserve speed dials in my phone. People that I would consider sharing bacon with. I run down this list when I've decided my boredom is unbearable and I need another human being to be around. You get the point. Now the rest of my "friends" can fall under a couple of categories:

1) You are disgusting and I need to stalk your life periodically to feel better about mine.
2) You were a bitch in high school and when you get hit in the face with the karma stick, I'd like to see it.
3) You go to college with me, so I feel obligated to keep you on there in case we ever run into each other.
4) You're just an interesting person, and I'd like to see what you do in life.
5) You post funny things all the time that make me happy.

I'm actually kind of done writing about how dumb facebook is, because it's becoming one of those things that the more I write about it, the less I really care. This is kind of like when I wrote an entire paper on the Medieval Warm Period. It sounded alright at first, then by the eighth page, I really didn't give a shit about how warm it was. I started off like "YEAH, VIKINGS!" and the excitement quickly wore off after the 17th article about ice cores.

Anyway, I actually don't feel much like writing anymore because I'm in one of those moods where I have to clean my room. Which is odd, because the mess hasn't bothered me at all for the past six months, but for some reason, my brain wants it done now. My brain is such a woman sometimes...

And the Winner Goes to... Opposable Thumbs!

I can't think of anything to write about besides human beings. I don't know why, and actually, it kind of reminds me of that commercial... "humans, even when we cross our t's and dot our i's..." bla bla bla you probably know the rest because commercials are annoying and ruin life. But I guess the stupidity of commercials is a post for another day. I have to keep track of all of these random thoughts that run into my head so that I can remember to write about them later. So far on my list:

1) How awesome Adele is. Because she seriously is.
2) Cat people. You know, people who think they are cats.

I have more actually, they're just in my ipod and I don't feel like getting it so I can tell everyone what I'm gonna write about. That would ruin the surprise.

So anyway, back to humans, because I was thinking about them this morning. I was thinking, with all of the stupid shit that we do, how the hell can we put ourselves above other animals? Now, before you roll your eyes, this is not me advocating for veganism, and that we give up our houses and everything we love to protect animals. Actually as I write this, I am eating a BLT. Do I regret anything? No. I don't. The pig died a noble death. Actually, killing a pig for bacon is like when people talk about sacrificing themselves or something to the gods. They are giving themselves up for the greater good. Maybe if they would have come up with the whole "opposable thumbs" thing first, they wouldn't be in such a sticky situation. I think maybe that's how the world works. I think God just went ahead and put a bunch of single celled organisms on the earth and said "alright, first one to develop opposable thumbs wins."

But sometimes I think being an animal would just be a much simpler life. You're born, you eat, you migrate, you try not to be eaten, you mate, you have babies, and then you die. That's such a simple life. Seriously, humans, what the hell? Of course, that's the price you pay for advanced cognitive activity. This shit happens. Do you think that elephants sit around the water hole gossiping, staring at the other elephants, thinking "oh my god, I wish I had a trunk like hers." or "Her tusks are just fantastic!" Do you think that they sit around on elephant facebook, staring at the lives of all of the other elephants in the Serengeti, thinking "Damn, look how happy she is. She has that adorable little elephant family. Everything is going so well for her. AND HERE I AM, ALONE WITH A BOTTLE OF THIS ELEPHANT WINE THAT I CAN'T EVEN OPEN BECAUSE I DON'T HAVE OPPOSABLE THUMBS." The answer is, no. They are not doing that. Because they're elephants, and they don't have facebook. Actually, I think any organism that doesn't have facebook is already about five steps ahead of humanity.

Actually, and this is me thinking while I'm writing, which may or may not be dangerous, I guess the purpose of me thinking about this, was to make sure I remind myself that humans make mistakes, which we do. We are this wonderfully complicated species that has a wonderfully complicated existence. We're not perfect. We can't live life with the fear of making mistakes, because then we miss out on all of the wonderful things that life has to offer. As nice as an animal's life sounds, they don't get to experience half the cool shit we do. I mean, come on, we have smartphones. We have bacon. Yeah, we have all this complicated shit to deal with, like love, and our purpose in the universe, and stuff, but we have BACON. We get to walk on two legs! We get to walk on two legs in a constructed house to the kitchen and cook BACON! We get to drive cars! To the store! For BACON. We get to deal with an insatiable curiosity about the world around us, why the earth moves, why the stars are the way they are, and of course, why bacon is so damn delicious!

Why Puppies Could Potentially Save My Life One Day

I do realise that I am posting something just about every day, which probably won't happen all the time, but this blog is kind of like a kick ass Christmas present; I just want to play with it all the time for now. Except I may actually stick with this, because it's awesome, plus this blog won't end up on my bedroom floor covered in clothes to be forgotten about until I clean my room next, which is about once every six months or so.

So anyway, I've gone off on a tangent, but something happened last night that really made me think about the world. I was sitting in my room, minding my own business, listening to music, and painting my nails, and all of a sudden, the most annoying thing in the world happens. The fire alarm goes off. Seriously, fire alarm, nobody likes you. Except, of course, when there is a fire, but the only problem is that of the 1,000 times I've ever heard a fire alarm, 999 times it has been a drill, and the one time, it was because of paint fumes or something. This is the real life application of "The Boy Who Cried Wolf."

Now, since I had just painted my nails, and since I was 99.999% sure it was a drill, since they do all of the campus fire drills in the same week, you know what I did? I stayed in my room. And do you know what I realised? Fire drills have trained me to do the exact opposite thing I'm supposed to do in the event that it goes off. Seriously. Now, some of it was peer pressure from my roommate, who I'm completely convinced, in the event of an actual fire, would just climb out the fifth floor window, rappel down the side of the building, all with a sandwich in her hand and while doing her homework, and she would be completely fine, so when she promised that she would save me if there was actually a fire, it set my mind at ease a bit.

For some reason, this whole thing reminded me of what my eleventh grade English teacher told me. He said that all that public school does is train us all to be factory workers. We do everything by a bell. We wait for a figure of authority to tell us what to do. We write five paragraph essays the way that The Man wants them written, three prong thesis and all. We get a half hour lunch break. Now, I'm not offended by this; after seeing half of the kids that I went to high school with, I could never really imagine an intellectual environment, where we were all free thinkers, and frequented the library, and actually came to school to learn. I mean, really. We had a day where everyone rode their tractor to school.

I'm actually not really sure what that has to do with a fire alarm, but for some reason, that's what I thought of. I did, however, come up with a solution to the problem. I think by the time one gets to college, he/she knows how to find the nearest exit in the event of a fire. I mean, come on, we spend all class time thinking about those glorious exits, the gateways to freedom. I think you could blindfold a college student and break his/her legs and they could still find the exit to a building. They would be pathetically crawling toward it, with kind of a Stevie Wonder expression on their face, kind of like a worm, or a dog with no use of its back legs, but they would find it nevertheless. So anyway, I think there should be an alarm for fire drills, but it should kind of be one of those under the table things, where all the seniors know about it, but the freshmen are all running outside, since they haven't been enlightened yet. Kind of like college "street smarts." Then, I think there should be an actual fire alarm. Where the alarm is four times louder, and says something like "HEY GUYS. LISTEN UP. THERE'S AN ACTUAL FIRE IN THE BUILDING. SERIOUSLY, GET THE FUCK OUT. WE'VE CALLED FIRETRUCKS AND EVERYTHING. And don't use the elevator." Because I would definitely take that shit seriously. Or even maybe something like "Attention! Go outside! There are puppies and free food!" because this is college, and that is exactly the type of thing that could clear out a building faster than an actual fire.