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.