Faking It

ORANGE COUNTY, CALIFORNIA. A place where everything was made so that you wouldn't have to venture any further than five miles from your residential bubble in order to find what you need. The parking spots are bigger, and the neighborhoods are smaller. People here are friendly...so long as we don't have to see each other and exchange that awkward "Hello". Greetings are rarely issued because with that you have to spend a good two minutes pretending to be interested in the person's current life. Faking interest is something that often happens at the mall, the super market, or even on the streets when you see your neighbors during your afternoon jog. There is an unwritten book of rules that every person abides by and the OCPD rarely has any real menace to break up, so they settle with issuing three-hundred-dollar fines to petty crimes such as Jay Walking. It's the perfect place to settle down, raise a family, and (especially) retire. It is not the place, however, to find love.

Here, the college scene is struggling to find an identity for itself, as we are in an age where we are just breaking free from the conservative mindsets instilled upon us by our parents. Labels have been taken to a whole new level. Not only do we wear nothing but brand name clothes, but we have also begun to embrace labels to describe ourselves. Most of the time people can't find an identity of their own so they settle with being an imitation of someone they long to be. In a city filled with men in search of who they really are, an equally lost woman would have just as much trouble finding herself let alone true love. That is not to say that there is a difference somewhere else.

Trust me, I've been "somewhere else" quite a few times now, and just recently I was informed of something I really wish I could forget I ever heard.

So here it is, another complication for an already complicated situation. I hate being stuck in emotional messes. This time, I'm not going to be the one cleaning up. I hate being aggravated and distracted. I already have way too much on my plate to be worrying about such a ridiculous and utterly unreasonable issue.

Fuck it. I'm way too good to even be thinking about this.

Shuffle Mode

It takes me a while to articulate what I want to say, but I'll tell you this now: I sure as hell don't want to lose you.

Gracious Afflictions

I’ve walked down this road in the past. I know it. I’ve seen that sign of uncertainty so many times before and these red flags are all too familiar. Stopping mid-step, I realize that I’m not going anywhere with this situation at all. I’m not fully satisfied, not learning from my mistakes, and not making any improvements. Then it hit me. I’ve have been walking in circles. Exasperated, I begin to run. Angry at myself for walking right back into square one, I run aimlessly down unfamiliar avenues until I am surrounded by nothing but my own fear.

I run until I can’t handle facing any more of my fears and I settle to a sudden stop. I’m tired and completely lost now that I’m outside of my comfort zone. My legs are fatigued from trying to escape my mistakes, and my heart feels like it’s trying to beat its way out of my chest. I slow down, and begin to walk blindly in the direction of nowhere. I try to convince myself, “This is good; this is what you wanted. You wanted something different, and this is far from ordinary.”

“This is good…”

Yet, no matter how “good” this seems to be, I can’t stop myself from looking back and re-living the past. As I become immersed in my distractions, I forget to watch where I’m going, and I walk straight into a wall of doubt. I hit my head hard and fall to the ground, face-first into a mass of confusion. I lay there for awhile, letting the pain of the impact travel through my body. After awhile I get up, brush off my knees, and turn to examine the source of my fall: that patronizing wall of doubt. It’s not that tall, about two months high, nineteen years long, and indefinitely wide. I can’t find a way around this wall, so I climb the two months, sit down on my doubt, trying to figure out how I got here and how to get out.

Not long ago, I made a decision to take on this journey. So far it has been as pleasant as it is unpredictable. Along this road I’ve stopped by some good conversation, taking with me useful souvenirs like: charm, trust, compassion, and sophistication (to name a few). I spent my nights entangled with lust, and my mornings were calm and complacent. It wasn’t until recently that my old habit decided to kick in. I don’t know why I constantly feel the need to look back.

A breeze flows through the atmosphere, and the cold air provokes a stinging pain coming from my knee. I look down and notice a scrape that was not there before my fall. It’s a minor wound; nothing like the outcome of my past endeavors that cut me so deep the scars will never fade. This is a surface wound that leaves the skin underneath not bleeding, but simply exposed and vulnerable to virtually every infection that comes its way. I stare at it a bit longer and realize that skin is about as raw as the past two months have been for me. Now I realize how I got here. A voice sounds in my head.

“I’m not worried about whether things work out or not.”

Those words keep ringing in my head, “I’m not worried… I’m not worried… I’m not worried…” I was never meant to hear them, but somehow, through the nature of gossip, they got to me. Now I’m sitting here not only confused, but completely hurt. Why didn’t I realize this before? This road I’ve been taking ultimately leads to nowhere, and I feel like I’ve been wasting my time and energy pursuing whatever it is that I’m after. I’m the only one who cares about whether or not things work out, so the smart choice would be to get out now. The problem is I’m determined to make everything work out, no matter how much it hurts me. Quitting isn’t a part of my nature; however stubbornness takes up the majority of it.

I guess in order to get out of that agonizing routine I’ve been repeating for most of my life, I needed to take different paths. Not like it did anything. It just led me straight into a wall which resulted in an aching head and a sharp pain in my knee.

My knee.

That’s it! I’ve been so elusive, so cautious and unwilling to open up. No wonder I haven't been making any progress. Like the wound on my knee, I need to match the pain of my wounds to the raw nature of the journey I’ve been taking. I need to be more exposed. Revealing my true character and exposing the reason behind it is going to sting a little, but the reward is that I’ll only become a stronger, more statisfied person. Now that I’ve figured out how to handle my situation, I need figure out how to get out of this place. I look around, trying to asses how far this “wall” stretches. Then I realize that it’s not a wall I’ve been sitting on, but a step.

I understand now. My doubt has been nothing but a step in my life that I needed to overcome. I get up once again, face in the direction of reassurance and walk over my doubt. I’m ready to fix this... no matter how much it stings.

Desiring the Unattainable

He tells me about himself, about his life, his background, and why he is the way he is. He tells me about his family and about the life he is living now; I can see that he wants out, he wants to be taken away from this mess. Somehow he manages to hold himself together, but inside he is shattered to pieces. She comes to me asking why he hasn't called, wondering what he's doing at this very moment, and if she should even worry about investing anymore time into pursuing him. She doesn't understand, and all she sees is herself, and what she wants. If I could only show her what he sees, let her feel what he feels, then maybe she would overcome this petty grudge and let him carry on with his dysfunctional life. Alas, that is not the case in this pitiful game of pursuit.

I know what's going on, but I am not at liberty to disclose anything that I was entrusted with. It's a thankless life that I live, in which I am constantly stuck to a thread of one person's secrets that somehow intertwines with the life another. Ultimately, this creates a web of disclosure in which I have the misfortune of being caught in the middle of.

To this day, I still cannot not put a finger on why everyone around me feels the need to spill their problems upon me, like I'm some sort of bottomless vessel available to anyone to use. It is times like these in which I feel the need to have a cathartic moment all to myself.

My friends wonder why I blow them off to stay at home and do nothing. It's not because I don't appreciate their company; it's just, in order to rejuvenate myself, I need to retreat into my own world where I can finally deal with my own problems, and have my peace of mind all to myself. In the ideal world of Tina Land, that would all fall under nicely, but in the real world, where techonolgy plays a significant role in the disruption of my solitude, people manage to pester me with their problems even if I'm not physically around them. I'm not sure if I should be flattered or insulted by this phenomenon. Has anyone ever bothered to ask me what's going on with me? What's going on with my life? What's been on my mind lately?

Never before have I felt more trapped in my own skin. I would give anything to live the life of another person just for a day. I believe that would be rather liberating, but, since I am indefinitely stuck in this life of mine, I should just deal with the issues I have in front of me. My current issue? Relationships. Over the past week or so, I've been thinking to myself about the aspect of relationships. There are the kinds that give you comfort in knowing you will always have someone to cry to at four in the morning, and those that supply you with guidance and support for the bigger things in life. Some relationships are strictly based on your monetary dependence, and others go far beyond the unset boundaries of love.

Relationships are vastly unique, each composed of its own elements that make up the structure of a solid bond. They vary on both sides of the spectrum from being extremely uninhibited and void of all secrets, to being utterly shallow and, at times, rather tense. However, there are those relationships that float around in the middle, waiting to be noticed. These are the bonds that, ideally, are free from the bounds of emotional, social, and even sexual tension. Relationships that are free from such tension should often induce the least amount of stress and, most of the time, are the ideal relationship otherwise known as: friendship. Of course, like any other failed love story, there is always something that gets in between of achieving that perfect friendship. In my case, that something is none other than the Y chromosome.

I have gone through life not only searching for true love, but, above that, true friendship. It's safe to say that I have found some of the best friends I could ever ask for, but I wish that all friendships were completely innocent and free of elusive wonder. For me, a simple friendship with a man is perfectly normal, however for others, it is virtually impossible. This got me to thinking about the relationships taking place around me with those who are my age. I know I'm not the only one who wonders about this, and I'm not the only one who seeks an answer.

In today's society of the economically-deprived college scene, where the lost souls of the adolescent youth are striving to find their true identities, I find it safe to ask: can a man and a woman ever maintain a platonic relationship?

It's All Just a Title

"You need to be more stern; don't fall prey to being too nice or you'll get taken advantage of."

It was roughly two in the morning, and I had woken up in a cold sweat two hours prior completely scared shitless of what is to become of me. I spent the remainder of the time leading up to this moment tossing and turning, and doing the usual over-analyzing, and under-rationalizing. I finally couldn't take myself anymore, so I grabbed my phone and started desperately searching for someone, anyone, who would be able to identify with, and help me.

I narrowed my options down to three people. Three disappointing people being that: one was drunk, another was busy, and the last one didn't respond. Funny how they all come banging on your door for advice when you're busy as fuck, unable to help anyone let alone yourself; but when it's your turn to seek advice, everyone is suddenly missing in action or preoccupied with prior engagements.

Go figure.

Anyway, the non-responsive friend became responsive and, to be honest, I didn't expect much help from this person at all considering what they just went through. I was right you know, the majority of the conversation was essentially useless, but upon leaving I was left with that statement up there.

Don't be too nice.

Shit hit me hard. I never knew how much of a push-over I really was until this statement came and slapped me in the face. It not only slapped me, but it mocked me, and taunted me; ultimately reminding me of how much I fucked myself over. It was the most painful bitch I have dealt with by far. That statement had an underlying message that said:

Welcome back to reality Tina, scary shit's been taking place since you've been gone; what's even scarier is that this is all your fault.

I can't believe how submissive I've been with every aspect of my life. I let one failure drag me down with its unworthiness, I let people disrespect me when I should've held authority, and I let myself be lied to by someone I still care about greatly. It's all my fault. I blame no one.

I've been so sprung on being a laid back, "Do What You Want" type of girl, but everything has backfired. I'm so laid back, that I'm being walked all over. Superb. I, above all people, should know that not everyone can be trusted. Not everyone has the common sense to shut up without me having to tell them. Not everyone is kind enough to respect me, and not everyone is going to take my emotions into consideration when an opportunity far more tempting is being presented to them. Disappointingly, not everyone is as strong-minded as I perceive them to be, and not everyone genuinely cares about me.

My priorities are all out of order now. The sad part is that this has been going on since summer, which is why I'm in the shitty predicament that I'm in now. I really need to prioritize my time. School comes first, then Student Government, then everything else can come after if and only if I have time. Why couldn't I think of this before? How retarded am I to have to spend an entire sleepless night to come up with one blatant epiphany that shouldn't have had to require so much consideration?

It is now four in the morning, and my head is spinning. I just realized how wrong in every aspect this situation is. I passively waited for a change, and what I got was a lie. I cared too much, I wanted too much, I tried too hard...but not hard enough.

Well I guess this is just another lesson learned. I have figured out what I need to do, but now all I need is to find the courage to pursue this action. Let this be one of my finest moments of brilliance.

And by finest I mean, extremely illogical, utterly erratic, overwhelmingly emotional, slightly confused, more than slightly delusional, and completely drained of all tears. Yes, I felt all of that and managed not to explode. Look what you've done to me. I hope you're proud.

Recovery

I don't know where I'm going to be next year. I don't know how far I'm going to be or how close, but for now I know that I do not want to be stuck in this little scenario forever. I feel like this is getting nowhere.

But maybe this getting nowhere is exactly where I need to be. I don't even know what I want anymore. I do, however, know that you shouldn't let your past failed experiences determine what's going to happen this time. What's the harm in trying?

Hurt people hurt people. That's a fact.

Patience is Futile

Is it absurd of me to stick around and wait in a situation that has become so satiated?

No matter how much I try (which, truthfully, isn't that much) I can't seem ignore that question that lies in the back of my mind. Maybe it's the change in seasons, maybe it's my insecurity, or maybe it's because I've been in a state of solitude for a little too long... Whatever it is, I am unable to just accept that things are going well, and being difficult isn't going to help my case.

But I can't help it.

I mean, I may not be like any other girl you know, but occasionally I do give in to the sin that is Over Analyzing. Can you blame me? I just hate being kept in the dark. This wouldn't be so hard if you were an open book that came complete with an answer key. But you're not. And that's what gets me. It's so bothersome, like an itch on my back that I can't seem to reach. I know there are some things you want to know yourself, but I can't help you if you're not willing to do the same. It's sort of a "You scratch my back, and I'll scratch yours" type of deal. Fair enough right?

I guess...

Lately I've noticed that I've been rather submissive. After all the lessons I've learned, I still find myself to be too forgiving. I have finally figured out what is wrong, and just as I begin to gloat in my brilliant epiphany, I realize that it is incomplete. Sure it's wrong, great so avoid it; but then what's "right"? It's like I can see the light, but I don't know where it's shining to. I've figured out the problem, but I don't have an answer. I don't know what's happening or where this is headed, and I want answers. I know I'm close though, but simply not there. I wish I could just ask, but sometimes a simple question could scare away the one person who can supply you with an answer.

I'm dizzy from the thoughts that keep spinning around in my head. I'm being enticed with the hope that someday this could be more. It's so tantalizing, yet so excruciating at the same time to know that there's a possibility this can go either way. I'm scared of what I'm getting myself into, but I want this so bad that I'm willing to put my well-being aside. I'm caught in the moment and it feels so good, but the suspense of the unknown just hurts so bad.

But don't stop. I like it.

"I don't know why I'm waiting around for this. I know it's going to hurt in the end, and I don't want to deal with it so why am I still here now?....Oh....because I like him. That's why."
"Good job Tina, you've finally figured it out."

So...you can clap it you want. I am a self-proclaimed genius.

Post Playlist:
Snow Patrol- Run
Snow Patrol- Open Your Eyes
Remy Zero- Perfect Memory
Death Cab for Cutie- Follow You Into the Dark

The Inconsistancy of Change

If I were to step out of my body and observe myself from a different perspective I would imagine feeling dumbfounded at how someone can possibly go from sane to paranoid, then finally to borderline depressed. The last one might have been a bit stretched, but it was a good way of implying how crazy and absurd I've been acting. Over the time span of three days starting from Tuesday night, I have some how managed to peak the scale of mellow dramatic. That being said, I find it necessary to blog out all the nonsense that I've been feeling, in hopes of justifying my ludicrous actions. The next hour or so will be dedicated to the distressed conveyance of my fears, actions, and downright obscenity.

Somehow, during my most erratic hours, I managed to indulge in three mugs of French vanilla coffee and enough cookies to feed a small third world country. It's embarrassing, even to myself, to realize how miserable I am about the ever-increasing status of my weight; yet I never cease to think about food, especially when I'm feeling like I'm at the lowest point in my life. I risked my life and body to take my dog on a walk at three in the morning to a park where, to date, two gun fights, one murder, three rapes and countless skinned knees (to say the least) have occurred. I don't know how I got back alive and unharmed. I probably was suffering from a severe case of hysteria and in reality did lead myself into danger but traumatized myself so much that I ended up with amnesia, thus causing me to forget the events taking place from when I stepped out of my house to when I finally settled back into bed. My thought now is: if only that could happen for the events of the last six months.

I know change is inevitable. I just wish that I were a lot more open to new things. When I say "open" I really mean I wish that I were a lot braver to face and adjust to new things. Is it asking to much that I simply want to stay in the state that makes me happy and comfortable? Why does change have to be so scary? Yes I understand that change can sometimes be fun. I wouldn't argue with that. New clothes, new hair, new food, new CAR??? All completely good examples of change...and also all completely obtainable with money. I guess what I'm really afraid of is those priceless, unpredictable, and life-affecting changes.

I have certain fears, one of them being change and the other, sadness. What I'm guessing is that I'm afraid of change because it might lead to sadness. However, if I don't take the leap of faith, how will I ever know? I might never reach complete satisfaction if I refuse to move on. I think it's time to take into consideration what's good for me, and what is just completely a waste of my time. I should trust in faith, the problem is, sometimes it's a bit difficult to rely on such an intangible source. I need to be strong. I need to grow a pair of balls and finally rip off that damn band aid. So my wounds will be exposed, so what? Wounds heal, but time can never be replaced. I should take as much as I can from this and move on. I should do that, but I don't want to.

What I want to do is go running into my mom's skirt, crying and begging for her to take me away from all of this. I would love to get away. Maybe once I'm away from all the chaos, I would finally be able to get my life back in order, because to be honest, I'm scared. No, I'm terrified. What if there isn't anything better out there for me? What if I've been wasting my time on nothing? What if I'm LOST??? I tried seeking help. It pains me that my mom is unable to help me these days with my problems, but I understand that everyone has their own problems to deal with (some more important than others). I did spend some quality time with a good friend over coffee (or whatever that water-based decaffeinated shit was) and, of course, cookies. However, I didn't feel comforted so much as I was the one who did the comforting, so I sought the help of two old friends both of whom I was once very close with. The problem was one of them was busy and the other was of no help whatsoever. Which made me realize how over the past six months, I have become so engulfed in my new life, that I have completely forgotten that my old friends have feelings too, and they still care about me...Well at least they did until I decided to become to busy for them.

I should try taking a step back. I now realize that I have been too self-absorbed with myself that I have forgotten the effect I have on others. Looking back over the past three days I have indeed become a little less sensible and a lot more irrational. Although the feelings I felt were legitimate, the actions I took were far from that. I should try considering the fact that I will never be able to grow if I refuse to accept change and pain. Shit happens, and I just have to deal with it. The problem is, I'm loving this chapter of my life too much and I don't want to turn the page.

Dust Bunnies and Memories

It's that time of year that we all dread, yet some of us welcome it with open arms and a dust pan. Spring Cleaning is here, and along with it comes stress, mood swings, and long lost memories. Upon sorting through my childhood and teenage years, I recovered: a guitar (hardly ever used, but rescued in hopes that I will one day become a rock star), notes written from friends (filled with inside jokes that make me feel so out of the loop now, not understanding any of them), wallet-sized couple pictures (half of them from people I don't even talk to or like anymore), a couple knick knacks from my shallow elementary school days, broken relationships (which led to broken hearts), and two or three things that I feel I would actually use.

As I'm sitting here however (itchy from all the upturned dust), I can't help but to think about all these memories that I recovered. Over summer, when I was remodeling my room, I threw all of the junk that I couldn't care less for into my brother's old, vacant room. At the time I knew it was useless, yet I still was unable to part with it. Now, three seasons later, I still can't find the courage to throw my past away. I simply store it somewhere until I find the time and mindset to actually deal with it.

I guess in a sense there is no throwing away of my past. No matter how hard I try, I either end up not wanting to, or not being able to. I tried shoving it into a vacant room, but it's all still there. I could try moving away, but it would still be here. I could try giving it away, but it would still be there. Somewhere. It's like that shit we learned in chemistry. How matter is neither created nor destroyed. Not exactly the same concept...but close enough.

Meanwhile...

I've been thinking about how things just aren't the same anymore. I shouldn't be surprised, because it's not like I was expecting a smooth ride all the way, but I didn't expect this rocky stage to be filled with so much...apathy. Maybe it's just me. Maybe I really am the demanding little girl that he says I am. Maybe I do complain too much. I don't know, whatever the case is, I can't say or do anything about it because it would simply justify his points and make me look like a bitch. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, but I'm sensing too much absence and not enough fondness.

I guess some of us just don't realize the time strain. Soon time will run out and in its place will be a huge distance. About eight hundred miles to be exact. I don't know. Maybe I should just let it be? Maybe I should cool off? Maybe I shouldn't care so much (I mean really, I'm the only one that does care). Maybe I should...give up?

Oh hell, I don't even know what I'm saying. I have a million thoughts running through my head and they all just morph into a huge cloud of confusion. But really, what the hell am I waiting around for? I feel like I'm trying for nothing. I feel empty and also that everything I have is empty. I hate being judged, but I can't help that. It just sucks to know that even the person you love is also judging you, critiquing your every action in hopes of making you into "a better human being". I feel like I'm not good enough.

Well if I'm not good enough at home, and I'm not good enough at school, and I'm not good enough for him than what the hell is the fucking point? What happened to those days when I was beautiful, smart, and funny? When there just wasn't enough of me for him, and he actually thought about me? I miss being cared about. I miss feeling safe, and knowing that I had a sense of belonging. What can I do though? I guess I have to understand that all things come and go, I better appreciate them while they're here cause they sure as hell aren't going to last.

Now I'm angry and hurt from dealing with apathy and...nothing. I hate nothing. It sucks because there's nothing to justify, and nothing to yell at. I'm hurt, I'm tired of crying myself to sleep. I realized that I get tired after I cry and today, I am exhausted.

But that might just be from all the spring cleaning. I should take a shower. I'm still itchy from being attacked by the dust bunnies. Of course when I'm uncomfortable I get cranky so that might just be it.

Fucking dust bunnies...

Update

A lot has been happening since the last time I was on here. First things first: I can't type as well because of my damn acrylics. Second: I've been a little frustrated with some things lately. Sometimes I feel like there's not enough love, but this change is just something that I would have to accept. It's just that adapting to such an emotionally challenging transition can be tough at times. I'm fine though. Happy even.

Happy is an understatement. Especially after what happened yesterday.

I got a puppy!

AND his name is Mika. He's my baby. Basically he's the only reason I decided to update haha.

The end. Until next time....

I don't know when next time will be. I hate being so damn busy. I WANT ME TIME.

The End.

A Sudden Dip in the Road

I know I've been bragging about how wonderful my life has been and really it has, but now I think everyone would be a little pleased to know that I'm fucking down. It might be the fact that I'm premenstrual, or that I haven't seen anyone I remotely care for this entire weekend (besides my parents), whatever the reason is, I'm going to take it and run with it. I'm going to use it as an excuse as to why I'm sounding like a submissive bitch who can't say shit for herself.

I mean what the fuck right?
"What's wrong Tina I feel like something's wrong that you're not telling me about."
"......anyway....."
That was my response.

I mean right? That was my fucking RESPONSE. Out of all the years of being top of my class of any writing course I ever took, after selecting journalism as my major and excelling with that, all I was able to articulate was THAT.

Here I am telling others that they need to work on opening up. I admit, I'm a hypocrite and I should stop this madness before I make anyone else feel uncomfortable.

I always thought I was basically an open book laid out for anyone who was interested enough to take the time to read me. Most of the time all I got were nosy bitches who were just bored of their life and needed to leech off of mine in hopes of creating any kind of spark in their sad little lives. Anyway I guess lately I've just been unable to put a finger on how I was feeling exactly. I'm not unhappy at all, but I guess I do feel a little off. Especially right now, I'm walking around in the supermarket and my boots are of uneven sizes. My left foot is slowly losing the cirrculation in its toes. Yeah only I would be so excited about buying boots to not realize that one is a size 8 and the other is a size 7 1/2. ......ANYWAY.....

Ok so you want to know about me? Fine I'll grant you bitches your sad little wishes, but this is going to be about the only time that I am going to comply to any of your meddling wishes.

I hate being bored and unproductive and that was exactly how my weekend was. I don't know why I make promises and arrangments to people I couldn't care less about and would like to hang out with even less than how much I care for them (that wasn't supposed to make sense so please don't beat yourself up trying to get your head around it). I let down way too many people including myself. I know I used to be confident at some point in my life but as far as I can remember I've always been insecure. That wasn't supposed to make sense either. Anyway it's pretty true though, I mean I almost always get what I want. I say almost because I don't want to make a false generalization about my achievments but so far I can't remember a time when I was denied something I truly wanted. Yes I am blessed and yes I would be ridiculous if I were to stand here in this godforsaken Vietnemese Supermarket and complain about the things I don't have and at the same time don't need.

I need to shut up with this whining or whatever the hell it is that I'm doing. One thing is for sure: I'm holding up traffic with the shopping carts. If shopping carts had horns there would be a cacophony of honking right now on the seafod section. Of course there's nothing wrong with being captivated by dead cut-up fish.

I mean.........right?
Fucking fish.

I don't know why I'm feeling so insecure right now. Let's be blunt here: I feel like shit. I feel vulnerable. I feel like I don't want to face the world because I'm afraid of how situations would turn out. I feel paranoid. I feel like my dad. I feel like venting which is exactly what I've been doing for the past half hour or so or more I don't know. I feel like I need to release all of my negative emotions and I feel like I've done exactly that. I feel better.

As a result of my aimless blogging, I am finally able to put a finger on what's bothering me. I miss my boyfriend and the thought of being away from him for a four-day-weekend is almost unbearable. I miss him. Come home now. I know. I'm pathetic. So shoot me.

Please don't. I love my life and I don't want it to end just yet. Kthanks.

I would like to close out with a message to a certain someone. Don't tell me what it takes to be a girlfriend. Sure you've experienced the entire female population minus me, but that does not make you an expert. It makes you a slut. A man slut. So get over yourself. And with that I leave you with your thoughts for I have successfully released my own.

I am Overwhelmed with Stress

I have two essays due and a psych midterm tomorrow.
On top of that Fall Fest is in two days and I feel that we're not ready.
Girls soccer is now 15-0 without ever having a single goal scored on them.
They are indeed number one in the nation.

I love ASG.
I have the best boyfriend ever.

Don't get me wrong I'm still extremely happy.
I'm just really stressed and tired. To the point where I think I'm rather dizzy.
I think I'm going to pass out.
Ok back to studying.