Sometimes I wish there was a book hidden away in an attic somewhere with my future mapped out in inked calligraphy. The book would include diagrams, maps, and colorful illustrations. Not saying my future looks mind numbingly boring, but I don’t foresee my life going off the Richter exciting any time soon. Hence, the illustrations are an obvious must-have. I’ve been imagining my future a lot lately; or rather, trying to imagine. As it stands, the calligraphy would probably reveal something to the effect of: “For one year after you graduate, your life will be mundane and boring with intermittent splashes of idealistic excitement.” That sounds more like a depressing fortune cookie, if you ask me. There will be bright spots in my life upon graduation, I’m sure. But, I just can’t shake the fact that I won’t have any sort of plan or path to follow. This whole “no plan or path to follow” thing would be way more fun if I could promptly board a plane en route to Ireland. Let’s face it. There is nothing exciting about having a minimum wage job that just barely allows you to pay off your rent and utilities each month. My parents are literally threatening to completely cut me off when I graduate if I don’t find a good job. I’m not ready for this! I’m not ready for reality to set in. Leave me be to happily flit around in my fantasy world for a bit longer before cutting the ropes, please. Yeah right. It’s time I grow up.

A mapped out future would be great, but the part of the book I would be most interested in reading would be my love forecast. I wish I could ask someone the question, “What is love?” without getting the typical, “Baby don’t hurt me, don’t hurt me…no more.” It’s getting old, guys. I need answers! DAMNIT, WHAT IS LOVE! I guess maybe my book could mush together love and the future into one chapter since, more often than not, love transposes everything. Does it? Have you been in love before? Tell me, please. I think my experiences with love can only be defined as infatuation. Maybe infatuation is a side-effect of love, though. A dangerous side-effect. In fact, they should prescribe medication for it.

The final page in my book would be a picture of a happy pony running through a field. Hopefully I can follow suit.

I have a great feeling about the impending future.
I have a warm feeling inside.

I hope for joy.
I hope I stop repeating my past behaviors.

I feel like never listening to that song again.
I feel a sense of peace.

I have, I hope, I feel.

Crazy talk.

I'm not even sure where to begin. The past couple weeks have just been a jumble of confusion and emotion. Self realizations have been formulated and this odd sense of longing has arrived to make itself right at home. Longing has knocked on the door saying, "Hey, I have no where else to stay..it's alright if I hole up with you for awhile, right?" To which I respond, "Do I have a choice?" The answer is no. So, go ahead Longing...kick back and relax. Could I get you a cup of coffee or perhaps a sandwich while you are quietly biding your time making my life miserable?

The self realizations were really just a self realization. It's jealousy. I've got it and somehow just realized it. You are to him, what I was previously and as much as I'm trying to accept that...it's hard. Nostalgia is a bitch. A heinous bitch. But, then again...so is jealousy. It can ravage you. That being said, I've decided to wipe my hands clean of it. Can you even do that? Probably not, but I can suppress it to a point where it doesn't affect me.

I guess the other thing I realized...which would bring us back to 'self realizations' as opposed to a 'self realization' is that all my idealistic fantasy worlds stem directly from you. The fantastic days spent gallavanting around outside, flying kites, reading.......it's all.....I don't know.

I don't even know what I'm doing right now. Crazy talk, crazy actions. I'm doing everything wrong. You know me too well and probably have my actions all figured out. All I know is that I have these feelings that I don't know what to do with.

I think I'm really happy lately.

Yeah. I am.

I feel content with life...which is so unlike me. There are certain things I obviously wish I could change. But, for the first time I'm not actively trying to change them. Let It Be.

I have high expectations set on this winter break. Working at a set schedule (10-4) every day will be a nice transition from the erratic shifts I worked all semester long. Really nice, actually. I'm only allowed to work 6 hours per day (totaling 30 hours per week, in case you're an idiot), so I figured I'd designate 10-4...leaving time to work out at the gym every morning. Having a routine makes me calm and happy. Exercise doubles the calm and doubles the happy.

Living at home will be nice, too. I'll probably play lots of video games with my brothers and get hooked on really awful reality TV shows. But, I'm okay with that. I also want to finish a few books. This seems to be something that I tell myself every Christmas break...but, I never get around to it. However, this time I have a quite a few books that I'm aching to dive into. So yeah. Suck it Christmas breaks of the past. I will win.

Oh yeah. And I've made the gallant decision to have a sober break, excluding New Years Eve. No if, ands, or buts about it.

There is supposed to be a huge storm coming tonight which will completely crush the Pittsburgh trip tomorrow. I've been looking forward to it all week...but I guess snow is nice, too. Nice in a totally PLAN-RUINING kind of way.

Here's to having a happy, routine, fun-filled Christmas break!

Swing, Swing.

Today I didn't get my caffeine fix**. I turned into a mean, tempermental bear wanting only to hibernate and eat corporate people alive...bones and all.

**Caffeine fix: 4 shots of espresso each morning with 1 cup of milk. If I work, I'll have a diet soda.

But really. Work was ridiculous today. Absolutely, mindnumbingly AWFUL, in fact. Don is in California meaning, I'm at the mercy of anyone more important than me all week (i.e. EVERYONE). My supervisor asked me to do a really huge favor for her. The descriptor 'huge' being the understatement of the century. She could have even used 'collosal' and it still wouldn't have been accurate. So I worked on marking down retails in the IP program for 4 solid hours straight...skipping my lunch......until I couldn't even see straight. I went to her office and asked if there was any easier way...and she told me to go ask Charles. So I did. And...he did what would've taken me another 2-3 hours...in 10 flipping minutes. I'm not lying when I say that tears welled up in my eyes. Talk about frustration nation. After that, I promptly returned home, made a chicken sandwich with dijon mustard, talked to my mom on the phone for awhile, and fell asleep in my bed. I woke up with my mascara'd eyelashes creased in all different directions and my brown bangs sticking out awkwardly to the sides.

I sat around being grumpy for awhile longer. Cursed at Leighann. Did some dishes. Then, decided that it was time to be proactive about my beary bad bood (ha.ha.ha.). I put on my running shoes and uploaded a new mix to my ipod filled with only happy songs bearing good memories (this time, there was no pun intended...seriously). I waited until it was dark and then I left.

In my fit of anger, I didn't even realize how nice it was all day. It felt good to breathe. I subconsciously ran towards the playground...as I usually do when I'm in a terrible mood. I was so thankful to the people who had their Christmas lights strung. Thank you, reliable South Parkers...for not being lazy assholes. I slowed down as the playground approached, made sure there were no cars or people around, and made a fast break for the swings. (They got new pebbles! The kind that your feet sink into when you take a step.) I mounted the swing and started pumping my legs. Swings + Joanna Newsom=Good mood food. I literally stayed there swinging for at least 20 minutes...then I started feeling nauseous. But it was a happy nauseous. I ran home amidst the blow up Santa's on motorcycles (hmm) and blue twinkling snowflake lights. And here I am.


And here...I go.....

Final Destination

"You are continually pursuing a simpler and less complicated life - you don't allow yourself to fall victim to all of the "should do's" that society continually bombards you with. You are thoughtful about your life choices and think in terms of yourself, others and the world in which we live. You have a great sense that we are part of something much bigger and we must be good to others, if we want others and the world to be good to us."

As silly as this sounds, a personality test brightened my day and changed my perspective about the future. As is the current trend, I simutaneously tense up, fumble for my words, and turn a lovely shade of red each time a relative utters the question, "What are your plans after graduation." What I should do is create an abridged pamphlet containing my hopes, dreams, and aspirations to pass out to my disappointed kin. Granted, it would be a small pamplet....but I would fill it with lots of pretty pictures. Anyway. I've decided not to stress out about my 'future'. I'm 21 years old. There's far too much emphasis put on:
a) Finding a job as soon as you graduate.
b) Finding a man to marry IMMEDIATELY.
c) Popping out babies by age 25.
Obviously, these are all things that I'd like to have one day.
a) I do want to find a job. But, I want it to be a job that I love. A job that doesn't require a crane tearing through the roof of my house each morning to pry a sobbing me from my warm, adhesive-like bed.
b) Two words: Divorce rates. They're high. Why would I want to up and marry the first boy that comes around and tells me I'm pretty? Stability, maybe? I don't know. People are idiots. I can't imagine marrying a rich guy just so I'd be set for the rest of my life. Why doesn't personality matter anymore? I want someone that I'm madly in love with...someone that makes me laugh....someone that has passion and drive and motivation (to fill my lackthereof..duh!). I'm just going to say it now. If you ain't funny, you ain't nuffin'. I'm very critical about the extent to which acquaintances make me laugh. CALL ME PRETENTIOUS, but I'm just trying to tack on some extra years to my life by laughing. SO SUE ME. That being said, I'm taking my sweet time finding love. As though I really have a choice in the matter. I guess I do...I'm picky. That's having a huge say in the matter. Sigh.
c) This one speaks for itself. Babies rule. They really do. (Note: words proceeding this are not intended to sound selfish) However, as soon as that wittle, cute baby pops out...he/she is your life. I mean, it's a HUMAN LIFE. It has to be your number one priority. If it's not...then I think you're more selfish than I am.

Conclusions:
I want to take a year off. I want to get a job at Mylan making $12/hour. I want to save up enough money to travel abroad. I want an open-ended ticket so that I can stay for as long as I please. I want to come back home to Morgantown. I want to decide whether graduate school is for me.

Why is taking a year off so frowned upon? I think it sounds delightful.

I like brown hair.

The first real snow was today. At first, I was thrilled by the prospect. Bundling myself up, making a snow playlist for the walk to campus....Then, I realized that I didn't own a pair of winter boots yet. Or, a jacket with appropriate lining and insulation. To top things off, I chose the one scarf (of almost twenty) with a knit much too large for the occassion. This means that the wind blew straight through the scarf and onto my pink, wind-bitten neck. I walked from South Park to the library to the PRT to allen hall to wildlife management to the PRT to my home. And froze my tush off in the process. That's okay. Snow is still romantic.

Coming up this week:
Dying my hair back to its natural color (FINALLY).
Telling my corporate job that I will not be returning at the start of next semester (FINALLY).
Riding my pony (FINALLY)!
Christmas cocktail dress up party.
Christmas shopping with my mother...I have mixed feelings about this.
**Progressive dinner with my friend Jessica.
Project Runway night.
Across the Universe at the Warner!
Flight of the Conchords with Leighann!
Eating healthy foods and giving up on sweets (even if sweets=cupcookies).
Going to the rec center 5 out of 7 days.

**"A progressive dinner is a dinner party in which each successive course is prepared and eaten at the residence of a different host."
This idea is foreign to me. We'll see how it goes.

A happy week.

I miss horses. I miss everything about them. Their smell, their stride, their muscles, their chin stubble, the way their ears relate to you what they are feeling. I miss talking to my old pony like it was a real person and I miss my old pony listening..unlike a real person. I've heard that if you start out riding horses in your childhood, they stick with you like a plague for the rest of your life. It's something that you always stray back to at some point in your life.

Well, I think that point in my life has arrived. I mean, you should see the way I react when I see a horse, let alone get within petting distance. I'm giddy.

I talked to my mom about all this and apparently the current owner of my old pony is willing to let me ride Monopoly whenever I please. WHY IS SHE JUST NOW MENTIONING THIS?

I plan to go up to the horse farm this Sunday!!!!
giddy,giddy,giddy,giddy,giddy,giddy.UP!
ha.
haha.

Currently: Out of sight, out of mind. Plain and simple: Guys are bastards.

I've been feeling really lucky lately. Mainly because I've encountered more than my fill of closeminded Christians in the span of one week. I mean, don't get me wrong. I believe in God. I am just frightened and sickened by the way some Christians act. I've made so many good friends and acquaintances over the years. It's sad to think that Christians are limiting themselves to their little bubble of Christian friends.

Shrug.

I adore my friends. Every last one of them.

I had a lot of fun over break. Though, too much binging in all aspects. I've found that food & booze are a pair to be reckoned with. Tomorrow, I'm starting fresh. Half marathon training must begin. I think I'll sign up at the end of this week. It just sucks because I have to pay $60 up front to run. That just seems so strange...paying someone $60 to run 13.1 miles. WHY.WHY.WHY. An even better question would be: WHY.WHY.WHY am I so set on doing this in the first place? Well, I don't know. I need to accomplish something, I guess. Yeah. That's a good enough answer for me.

I went to 123 on Friday night and drank...too much. I danced like a crazy person, which resulted in a pulled calf muscle (It just hurts...so I'm assuming it's pulled). The best part of the evening BY FAR...was watching this tall, dark, and CREEPY guy pick up a hippie chick. We watched the entire process and even made bets as to what would happen next. In most cases, we were right on target. First, he started dancing with her on the dancefloor.....took her to the bar and bought her a drink....offered her one of his cigarettes (swoon). They came back to the dancefloor, got a little more intimate...moved to a side table where they inched their cushioned bar stools closer. He puts his hand on her knee, slides it up to mid thigh, leans in for the kiss. Takes his hand off her thigh, puts both hands underneath her hair onto her neck...eases off her hippie scarf, kisses her more deeply this time. Get a room. Geez. I never figured out if they left together or not. I guess that is left up to your imagination.

Bills, Bills, Bills.

Lauren Riggs is my best friend from high school. We've been through some rough patches in our years. And by rough patches, I mean petty fights over stupid high school boys. The worst kind of rough patches, in my opinion.

I appreciate having Lauren in my life so much. She goes to NC State and we really don't do well keeping in touch when we are in our respective states. However, we have the type of amazing friendship that can be picked up where it was left off. In most cases, we spend our entire summers together running, walking, biking, and ....eating. We encourage each other to eat healthier, we take turns talking about things going on in our lives, and we laugh. We laugh a lot.

I got sad today thinking that we won't be spending our summers together anymore. We're taking the great plunge into reality. Into real jobs, dating with the intent of marriage, and bills, bills, bills. Yes, Destiny's Child said it best. Each of these things tend to scare me shitless every time I begin to formulate plans about them in my head, so I guess I'm doing my best to ignore it for now. It's odd, because I'm typically so proactive about things. I want answers, I want a plan, I just want to know. This is just different, I guess. I NEED A NICHE. I NEED A PASSION. I'm waiting for my niche in the same way that I'm waiting for love. It will come knocking on my door, right?

A Gassy Girl.

Work today was pleasant.

Not many of the buyers were in the office, so I was free to hang out with the Data Entry ladies (Maureen & Chris) for the majority of the day.

Both are outspoken individuals with jobs that aren't self-satisfying. The result is very entertaining and enjoyable for bystanders such as myself. Maureen is tall, pleasantly plump, and wears flow-ey earth tone skirts with matching sweaters or vests. She puts her hand on your shoulder in a motherly way if you look troubled and frequently uses terms of endearment such as, "dear" and "sweety". She likes to talk about sex and makes it clear that she enjoys participating in such on a more than regular basis. Maureen takes two smoke breaks every day and says that she does so because "this place owes it to me". She once had me pick her up a pepperjack cheese pepperoni roll from McB's gas station. She has eaten one of these delicacies every day since. Her computer desktop layout is a winter cottage.

Chris is her partner in crime. They were friends before they got their corresponding jobs at Gabe's and live down the road from each other. Chris has lots of smile lines and seems the type you would find in a biker bar on any given weeknight. She has a dog that she frequently talks about (probably moreso than her husband). Chris has more of a harsh personality....she tells you like it is. She likes Special K bars and 'MyTea' (a brand that she can't seem to find anywhere but the Gabe's vending machines). She once told me that if I wanted to get anywhere in the company, I needed to hike up my skirt and yank down my shirt. I still haven't taken that advice to heart... Her computer desktop layout changes by the hour. Each day presents itself with a new adventure into the world of screensavers. I'll be sitting in my cube minding my own business, when all of a sudden I start hearing the faint sound of chirping birds and mosquitos. Or, a roaring, crackling fire. At that time, I know for sure Chris has been away from her desk longer than 5 minutes.

Today, I asked them what they would do differently if they were able to travel back to age eighteen. Maureen dominated this conversation, with Chris chiming in intermittently. Maureen said that she would have: not married a loser at the age of nineteen, taken better care of her teeth, been more healh-concious, treated her mother better, gone to college, and traveled the world before being tied down with grown-up stuff.

Somehow, this all spawned into both of them giving me advice on what my future husband should/shouldn't do. The only one I ever want to remember for the rest of my life is this: "If you start dating a guy who farts in public places or around you...kick 'em to the curb. Cause you KNOW that eventually, you're going to pick up his bad habits. No one likes a gassy girl."

A content day.
Project Runway tonight.

"When is Louise coming home?"

Today I visited my grandparents in Oakland, MD.
I love Oakland, MD. I love my grandparents.

The visits are getting far more infrequent as I (and they) age.
My grandfather has Alzheimer's disease. A few years ago, I did a research paper on Alzheimer's disease and reflected on how awful it would be to experience something so heartwrenching first hand.
...And then there it was.

Growing up, my Grandma Weezie was always there. If my brothers and I were directly or indirectly involved in anything, you could look out into the audience and see her sitting there smiling in her white lizard-embossed sweatshirt and jeans. She would always drag my Pap Pap (though, begrudgingly) along with her.

My brothers and I all have such fond memories of "sleeping over" at their house in Oakland. We were allowed to choose either our uncle's old childhood room, or our father's, to sleep in. Dad's win over all else. Duh. Visits consisted of pampering and spoiling in the most extreme form. We were served dinner (usually ravioli and endless garlic bread) and then we immediately made our way to the freezer in the garage. I'm under the impression that the garage freezer was sent from the heavens specifically to make my life a happier place. Ice cream, popsicles, eclairs, baked goods....
Sigh.
Post garage freezer, we were allowed to do anything we wanted. For example, my brother once dialed 9-1-1 "just to see what would happen". Other examples include:
1) Staying up until midnight (!!)
2) Watching pay-per-view movies.
3) Eating food in the living room in front of the TV (!!)
4) Camping out in a tent on the living room floor.

Things are different now. ...Much different.
Since my grandfather was diagnosed a year ago, he has been rapidly declining. This means that both my grandparents are contained to their house in Oakland. As though that weren't awful enough, our family cannot visit as a collective unit, anymore. Pap pap gets confused and flustered and frustrated and is unable to recognize anyone. The holidays that are typically spent together...are becoming a thing of the past.
(When we were younger, the day after Christmas was set aside for my grandparents...and my grandparents only. My brothers and I looked forward to this day the most. They always seemed to unveil the gifts we were disappointed Santa hadn't panned out on, the morning before. This just made us love them more.)
Although my grandfather doesn't realize much of what's going on these days, my grandmother does. Very much so. Can you imagine? Not being able to see your grandkids play in their playoff football game? Or...not being able to make it to your son's Thanksgiving family dinner where you have always provided the turkey...10 years running.

I cried today. I don't even remember what my grandmother and I were talking about. I was drinking blackberry tea with biscotti...and she said something about life being really, really hard sometimes. I could just feel the tears welling up. And then they came. My grandfather walked in shortly after asking, "When is Louise coming home?" Louise is the name of my grandmother.

Rave Reviews.

Nothing this weekend executed itself quite like I had planned it would.

...It was 100 times better than I imagined.

Lots of laughs. Lots of good memories. Lots of cash that I no longer possess.

Reflection on Friday night:

Booze,

Air Hockey,

and

New Zealand-ers.

...What more could you ask for?

pittsburgh & pals.

I'm really looking forward to this weekend. It's just what I need.

I get to spend time with my favorite people and do fun things (involving Christmas lights) many, many miles away from Morgantown.

Things are looking up.

Alright, so I lied.

I realized today that I don't hate everyone at my place of employment.

I like the janitor. A lot. He's the friendliest guy I've ever met in my life.

Every day at 4:00 p.m., he goes from cubicle to cubicle spreading his cheer and goodwill to everyone, in the likeness of Santa Claus...except he isn't fat and is rather fond of blue flannel. Whether everyone appreciates his cheer, is a whole separate matter. He finally gets to my cube and says something like, "It's a shame that you missed this beautiful day" or "You're almost 'outta here!" I really think he's the only person in that whole corporate office that genuinely gives a damn about my day. He smiles while he empties my trash can full of mint wrappers and empty white out containers, and then moves along to the next cube, where he is never seems to be as graciously welcomed and received. These types of people are few and far between. What a shame.

I like the Data Entry ladies, too. They talk dirty when no one is listening, which is hilarious because you would never in a million years expect it out of them. I told them today that I was rethinking Gabriel Brothers as my future career....that no one really seemed happy. They looked at each other and started cackling. "We could have told you that the first day you got here!" Then Maureen told me that I was just like her....a dreamer. She said that I shouldn't wait to travel the world. I should do it when I'm not tied down by house payments, car insurance, and "spoiled, rotten, children".

So, I got online, clicked on my Google toolbar, and typed in "Travel abroad for free".

Out of the first few pagesof results...a particular one caught my eye:
Become an Au Pair!

Thanks, Google! I think I will.
I'll hear from a representative by next Monday.
So now..I have hope again.

This is me in Ireland taking landscape portraits atop beautiful, muscular horses.

Sayonara, Sucker!

How do you expect me to enjoy a job for the rest of my life if I only get Thanksgiving day off?

I can't!

That's it. I quit.

Oh yeah....and I guess there's this, too:
call me godzilla: you wake up every morning at 7 to be at work at 9
call me godzilla: your alarm goes off
call me godzilla: you roll out of bed the same way, on the same side, every morning
call me godzilla: you shower, get dressed, and walk out the door at the same time, going down the same stairs, walking down the same sidewalk, saying hello to the same overweight, old, neighbors
call me godzilla: you get stuck in the same morning traffic
call me godzilla: every morning, the radio plays the same music at almost the same exact time
call me godzilla: you get to work, and you have the same vapid talk about office politics and taking the kids to soccer games/football games/baseball games
call me godzilla: you sit in the corner cubicle with a single potted plant and a stapler that rarely works with a computer with an eye catching background of some forest you've never visited
Ricekristinies: I hate the people at work.
Ricekristinies: They are all the people that I would never hang out with.
call me godzilla: exactly!
call me godzilla: and when you leave work at roughly the same time every day, you go to your car, pull out of the parking lot and realize you're trapped
call me godzilla: just another square in an endless machine of cubicles!
call me godzilla: you don't want that, i don't want that, so don't get stuck with it
Ricekristinies: I'm sad now.


...I'm not really quitting....yet....just thinking about other possibilities. Without my parents voice of reason. I'M GOING TO FOLLOW MY HEART. FORGET REASON!

If I had things my way, I would travel the world as soon as I graduate. I don't think I would take anyone with me. I would buy an open-ended ticket and start in Ireland. I'd hit Greece and Spain and Iceland and Italy...and wherever else my little heart desired. I would learn and grow and then finally return to the United States. I would hate it here. I would forever be unsatisfied with any and every job that kept me in one place too long.

That's why I'm staying here when I graduate. I'll save my dreams of traveling abroad for a later date. Which most likely means...that I'll never travel the world.

I just don't have enough get up and go...I know that I'm going to be very unhappy parking my ass in Morgantown taking a job that's comfortable and easy. A perk will be traveling to cities, at least. It may not be world traveling....but it's something. The truth is, I just can't think of anything else that will captivate me and keep me interested for longer than a month. Shrug.

I'll work for a year or two....then, maybe graduate school is in my future. Perhaps a graduate program that will allow me to travel overseas. That would be nice.

Song of the day: Rilo Kiley-The Good That Won't Come Out.
http://www.sendspace.com/file/cqoljm
"You say I choose sadness,
that it never once has chosen me.
Maybe you're right..."

Roundabout.

The next three weeks will be dedicated to making myself less round.

I'm not fat yet.....just round.

Robot Lovin'.

"Therefore, my dear, the kiss is our strongest weapon, but we must take care not to dull it. Do not forget that its value is only relative, purely conventional. It continually changes according to circumstances, the state of expectancy and the ecstasy of the mind."

I'm going to marry a robot. That way, I'll never have to be disappointed or let down. His name will be Infallible. I hate that humans are fallible. I hate that history continues repeating itself. I hate that I'm losing trust in people more and more every time I get burned. EVERYONE disappoints. I disappoint, my family disappoints, my friends disappoint... I want to believe that everyone has good in them and that everyone deserves a second chance. But, my lord, how many chances do you give someone to change? Self worth is so important...and obviously, if you are willing to look over huge, catastrophic errors on a significant others part more than a few times, you have very little self worth. In my opinion, at least. I hope so much, that I never stick around for someone that continually hurts me, just because it's comfortable. Can you really say you love someone if you've cheated on them? Or thought about cheating on them? I don't think so...but maybe that's just me being old fashioned. Good 'ol fashioned Kristin.

Sigh.

Things are okay. I hate that in between feeling...you know, 'not great' but 'not awful'. I guess it's better than being 'just awful'. My problem is that I feel this need to always be satisfied and overjoyed with my life. I always think..."If I just do __________, I will be happier." This is a flawed way of thinking and I need to knock it out of my mind. I need to find the good in everyone and everything and know that it's okay to be sad sometimes. It's okay to be lonely. It's okay to be angry and hurt.

This picture is here because it makes me happy. That's all.

"The common cold is an infection of the upper respiratory tract (URI) caused by some 200 different viruses. The average child will get 5-7 colds each year and the average adult will get 1-2 colds each year. It is the most “common” illness responsible for lost time at work and school. Colds are more common in the winter months. Symptoms last 3-10 days."



That's a human rhinovirus. I'm doing my best to kill him off with overdoses of vitamin C tablets and green tea. I WILL WIN.


I felt like crap this morning. I mean, REALLY felt like crap. I spent the whole night drooling out of my nose. To remedy this situation, I would have to reach my bare arms out of the nice, toasty covers and quilts I had comfortably situated around my body. This is when the nonstop shivering would start, keeping me awake all the night long. I awoke at 7:00 A.M. to a crusty nose and crusty eyes. A groan forced its way out as I ripped off the covers, jumped out of bed, and ran full speed to the bathroom where my only hope (in the form of warm droplets of water spit out of a circular metal rod with holes) was located.

The shower was mediocre. In order to REALLY remedy my problem, I took some "Dayquil" that was under my bed....unpackaged. It became apparent almost half an hour later that maybe "Dayquil" was really "Nyquil". Yep. To counteract the sleepiness, I had two shots of espresso. I WAS TRIPPIN'. Then, I made it home and collapsed into my bed.


Which brings me to now. 8:37 P.M. I'm going to a house show where my lumberjack friends are playing a bluegrass-esque show. Hooray!


Last night, we went to the Brew Pub and listened to a Bluegrass jam session. My friend Ben let me in the circle so I could 'holler' a song with them! It ruled. I want to play instruments again.

The.
End.

Good 'ol Daniel Johnston.

"Sometimes you might want to give up
But keep that chin up
Cause you're gonna find
You're gonna find
Sometimes you might be alone
But don't feel lonely
'Cause you're gonna find
You're gonna find
So don't let the sun go down on your grievances

Start each day with a clean slate
You'll feel better if you can shake off all that hate
And don't forget to forgive and forget
And don't let the sun go down on your grievances"

http://www.sendspace.com/file/swtu53

Okay. This is BY FAR my favorite Daniel Johnston song. However, this weekend disproved the whole subject line of the song in one fell swoop. Let me explain.

In most cases: Yes. I agree that letting the sun go down on your anger and sadness is the least therapeudic and correct thing to do. If you go to bed sad, it obviously makes sense that you will wake up sad....with crusty 'I've been crying all night' eyes. But, what if you attach other symbolic meanings to the sun going down on your grievances. Song disproved!! This weekend, I decided that the sun setting behind the mountains would symbolize me putting my sadness behind me. As lame as that sounds, I haven't experienced a sad day since. And maybe it was just a coincidence. Maybe I already had all the sadness out of my system when I decided upon this silly, symbolic event...but, either way...I'm happy!

I have decided to get myself more involved at our church. Not in a crazy, evangelical way...but, in a balanced sort of way. That's where I went wrong Sophomore year. Cru really did some damage on me (moreso on my friends). I just took everything that I learned and went extreme with it. I was making friends just so I could tell them about how I was a Christian and how they could also become one. This pushed a lot of my very close friends away from me and obviously, I can understand why. Being at church makes me happy and there's something to show for that. I want to go where I'm happy; yet, I also want to keep my friends that make me happy. I can easily do both.

I'm skipping my 11:00 class today. I'm not going to work today. My breaks went out last night. Well, almost...so I can no longer get to work. I'm taking advantage of this day off.

1) Making my first homemade latte of the year.
2) Going running on the trail.
3) Knitting.
4) Showering.
5) Going to Wildlife Management at 4:00.

That's my day.

I'm all thought out.

At first, I think it was really a matter of my heart. My feelings were hurt and for the first time I was really, truly sad. I go through my stages of being sad...usually in the winter....but this kind of sad is different. Whether I'm happy or not, I put on a happy, cheerful face for the benefit of others. Who wants to be around a debbie downer all the time? For once, it was hard for me to mask my emotions. They were seeping out all over the damn place....and at times that I would least expect seepage.

Now, however, I think it's more a matter of pride. Why don't you miss me? Am I not good enough? Why don't you even seem to care? That's what REALLY gets me. The ease with which you executed everything. The only reason you felt the need to mope around is because you not only lost the 'high school' love of your life, but you also lost that one girl who made you forget about the stupid shit going on. 'That one girl' is so easily replaced, which I guess is where the pride issue comes in.

I guess everything seemed so much more serious to me because I haven't been in a real relationship in over 3 years. I don't want to date random guys or hook up for the fun of it. I'm just excited to find that one person who I'm meant to be with. Petty, little relationships leave too much room for extra heartaches and I despise being vulnerable with every ounce of my being. That's why I rarely let people in.

I went on a run today...which turned into almost two hours of walking....and thinking. I decided that life is too short. Obviously, everything happens for a reason. And I have to believe that one day things will pan out in my favor. I mean...they really have to.....THEY MUST. I'm going to continue giving my heart to those I deem worthy, but I just have to be more careful. I think my ability to love others so enormously is a wonderful quality and I'm not going to let it go to waste.


Tonight, I have to do the stupidest class assignment in the history of the universe. I have to KNIT. A. CELLPHONE. COZY. With Leighann's help, of course.

Last night, an equivalent of 4 rolls of yarn got strewn across my living room, bedroom, hallway, bathroom, and kitchen. Don't ask.

Don't sweat it!

I'm sick of sweating all the damn time. This especially sucks when, instead of looking as though I'm enjoying a wonderful evening of dancing, I look as though I almost drowned in a lake. People aren't even nice about it either. They will tell me to my face that I look disgusting. But then, all I have to do is look in the mirror to reconfirm it for myself.

This semester has been really nice so far. I'm chapters ahead in all my classes because I have a job that has little for me to do. I print off all my outlines and online notes, hole punch them, and organize them into my labeled and color coded binder. After graduating, I really hope to be hired on full time at Gabe's in the Retail Merchandising dept. They have a position open now for Assistant Buyer, which is essentially, what I'm doing now....but, it's full time and for grown-ups with college degrees. Sigh.

Other news: I've chosen a topic for my capstone project that I am actually excited about! Phonosurgery: Pitch Changes in Transsexuals!!!!!! That's the title, including the exclamation points. I researched online and it seems that there are a ton of resources and information floating around on the interweb.

I bought an amazing pair of black straight leg jeans at Old Navy yesterday, only to have THE BLACK DYE RUB OFF ONTO EVERYTHING. My hands are going to be permanently black for awhile, it seems.

End note: 3 margaritas and a shared basket of guacamole and chips prior to an evening of rump shaking, should be avoided at all costs.

My apartment downtown needs stuff in it. My apartment downtown needs ME in it. I know once I get settled in, I will LOVE being there. Even by myself.

The way things are looking, I may be stuck finishing out my senior year in Speech Pathology and Audiology. Three thumbs down. That means an uber-long research paper, countless hours of clinical work, and mad crazy volunteerism. A typical Kristin-ism: Deciding senior year to hate her career path. Things have to constantly change for me to be happy. A rotation of friend circles, a rotation of interests, a rotation of life choices, a rotation of LIFE, PERIOD. I guess I just think these things will make me happy, but in reality, it doesn't change much. It's exciting for awhile, then the initial excitement wears off a bit.

Another typical Kristin-ism: Going on whims deciding to this and do that....and then never doing this or that.

Oh Snap! Shot.

These pictures simultaneously make me smile and tear up.

Because:

I'll always have my brothers when I have no one else.

And.

You'll never see us holding hands like this. ever. again.

Gay, but so damn cute.

Explosions in the Sky.

Hi, I'm Insecure. Nice to meet you.

There's a quote circulating around somewhere that says something like: "How can you expect to receive love if you can't love yourself?"

I don't know the answer.

I'm insecure AND picky. Which makes for an unfortunate combination. I meet someone nice and proceed to quickly form this fantasticly romantic and completely ridiculous world in my head. A world in which we jaunt about outside on a gorgeous day, flying kites, sitting down to a candle-lit picnic at dusk when the sun is just setting, turning the sky a flush pink and orange color. He goes home with me to meet my family and everyone laughs heartily exchanging stories on the patio. We travel together...embarking on crazy and spontaneous adventures to places we've each never been. We lay around and read together...perfectly fine with the silence of just being.

And these delusions just continue on and on inside my head until the dood disappoints me by not perfectly filling the delsuional world I have created. OR MY HEAD EXPLODES.

I think I make up these stupid "worlds" to protect myself. If I set my standards so incredibly high, no one will ever live up to them. Thus, I save myself the trouble of getting my heart broken. I fill my time with jobs and friends...feigning confidence and self assurance. I'm a hopeless people pleaser. But, if people get too close to me..I pull away. I'm scared to let you in.

Witty Walt Whitman.

"I think I could turn and live awhile with the animals....they are so placid and self-contained, I stand and look at them sometimes half the day long.

They do not sweat and whine about their condition,

They do not lie awake in the dark and weep for their sins,

They do not make me sick discussing their duty to God,

Not one is dissatisfied....not one is demented with the mania of

owning things,

Not one kneels to another nor to his kind that lived thousands of

years ago,

Not one is respectable or industrious over the whole earth.

So they show their relations to me and I accept them;

They bring me tokens of myself....they evince them plainly in their possession."

-Leaves of Grass.

Noob.

I once had a Xanga and I once went back to reread past entries and felt like a dumbass. Thus, I'm starting fresh in a new and improved blog spot. It seems WAY more hip, modern, and mature than has-been Xanga. Xanga is like the Spice Girls of the blogging world. ALTHOUGH, let me just tell you that the Spice girls have reconvened and will be TOURING TOGETHER AGAIN. Maybe my trading cards will finally sell for more than $0.50 on Ebay.

Things are different now. Way different. Different in a weird, grown-up-ish sort of way. I have a real job now. A real, corporate world, cubicle setting, 9-3, copy/fax/spreadsheet/-ing job. People don't respond when you say "Bless You" and they use phrases like, "Shoot me an email" or "Let 'er rip!" fairly often throughout the day. I think I like the job; however, the day I use the phrase, "Let 'er rip" will be the day I also use the phrase, "Shoot me an email".

I complain about my jobs like it's nobody's business. Something that Nick said sort of hit home. He caught me in the act of complaining about my 53 hour work week and he said, "Kristin, you love working all these hours." To which I replied quite defensively, "I DO NOT. TAKE IT BACK". He concluded that I like working so many hours only because I love telling people I worked all those hours. I guess it makes sense. I am trying extra hard lately NOT to complain mainly because I HATE GETTING CALLED OUT ON STUPID STUFF I DO. Which seems to be fairly often in the presence of Nick.

I committed to running a half marathon with my friend Lauren in September. It's in Virginia and it's a ROCK N ROLL race. There are bands all along the course and then you get free booze at the end! So I guess I'm going to start trying to run a little longer each week. It has been raining so often lately that I haven't had a chance to get out on the trail, which SUCKS. I hate treadmills with every ounce of my being. Plus, since I work at Lakeview the last thing I really want to do is go work out at Lakeview. (I WASN'T COMPLAINING, I WAS SIMPLY SAYING).

How bout' all my friends getting married lately, eh?
The End.