This blog is a collection of a young woman's random thoughts, many tangents, and occasional
short stories and novel excerpts. Stay tuned for plenty of bull and brief moments of brilliance.

Saturday, September 22, 2012

Senior Year? LOL

My desire to get A's? I think I lost that desire about two years ago, the semester before I went to Ireland. My semester in Ireland, as I've said before, created this sense of apathy I've since been unable to shake. Drinking a couple beers, sitting around and talking to friends, writing random shit, and having fun in general became a better idea.

This apathy set in even more when I realized I wasn't going to grad school. I still want to graduate with at least a 3.0, but currently that seems insanely reasonable. I'd have to tank pretty far to ruin my current one. Putting in just enough effort has worked for the past couple years, then buckling down for exams.

I stressed so much in high school, as at DSHA grades defined you in a way (at least they did for me). Being on honor roll was expected, high honors was desired. I did it all eight semesters, but in college I've managed Dean's list only twice. Not bad, but it wasn't done with as much pressure as the other ones were.

What I'm trying to say is this: coasting without bullshitting absolutely everything has made me much happier. I can write a five page paper the night before it's due, even hours, and snag a high B. I have to study hours upon hours though to get a D+ on a Latin exam, but that's a different story. I churn out creative writing assignments quickly and efficiently. Memorizing religious studies facts is easy enough.

Maybe it's more that I've gotten the hang of schooling after sixteen years. I know how to play the system and end up close to the top without killing myself over it. Grades used to be my end-all-be-all; a C on a test meant failure. Getting a B on a paper meant I was lazy. An A was expected...and this was all pressure I put on myself. Not my parents, me.

Things in life come and try to stunt our happiness. Friends can come and go, men can make your heart soar or fall to pieces, teachers can make you feel small, work can push you to your limits of patience. At the end of the day though you have to remember one thing: a couple months from now you'll look back and laugh at how ridiculous life can be.

When I look back on freshman year, I'm surprised I survived to a certain extent. But I giggle at what I thought were the most important things. Life throws you curve balls. Family decides you don't quite have enough on your plate and bombards you about your future. And sometimes still, God loves to fuck with you.

We all want a break every now and then, and for me, it's been school. I love school now and always, but more so since I stopped giving, for lack of a better word, so many fucks. Not zero fucks given, but pretty damn close. And to be perfectly honest that's enough for me right now. I'm happy with how I've been living my life.

I'll still make my family proud and such and get my B.A., but I'll remember to be happy. I'll remember to stop and pray every now and then when it becomes to much. I'll remember the people who are there through every storm through which I've suffered. Friends who are there no matter what, and the joy of budding friendships, keep me going. They really do.

As much as I hate the majority of my classes this semester, am heartbroken, am terrified of my future career, am worried I'll never finish my books, am missing my baby siblings, I know this: I love who I am far too much to fall back down. So take a break and take a breath. Stop taking everything so seriously for once. Drink a beer and relax.

Sunday, September 16, 2012

A Bit All Over The Place

Senior year is fully in swing and I'm feeling lost. After two weeks of tears and bad decisions, I'm wondering what I'm trying to do here exactly. My only solace is thinking to the future. The real issue is a feeling of loss overall. I lost my sorority, one of my closest friends, my boyfriend, my previously super thin body, and my will to care about school in the slightest.

So you could say I'm being a bit of a downer.

Senioritis is killing my hardcore. Right now I should be doing a literal translation for Catullus for my Latin Poetry class. Which is funny...because our teacher directed us to three websites with full translations...so what's the assignment again? Copy down exactly what we see from the interweb? Gotcha.

Then there's this playwriting class I'm taking. I don't know why, but I'm over writing classes in general. I'm sick of bullshitting assignments week after week. I'm supposed to write a monologue about a character I created in class. In class I was bored so I made a horrible character, not thinking it would be the assignment. Now I have to make up some story about a transvestite model keeping the secret from his wife and wanting to be able to model fully as a woman and fully as a man. Shoot me now.

The classes I'm actually enjoying are Children's Literature and Banned from the Bible. The subject material alone makes them awesome as well as the professors. I could do without my HIV/AIDS English class for bringing me down every Tues/Thurs morning. For real.


Knowing that the baby twins are at home growing up without me is hard. Some days I wish they would poof here magically and I could hold their little hands and kiss their little heads and let them sleep on my chest. That would be heaven. I miss all my siblings dreadfully after not spending a summer with them. It's challenging knowing they are going on with their lives without me there beside them. I miss my sister like no tomorrow. I miss my best friend who lives in Cedar Rapids. I miss my high school friends.

Basically, I miss everything I feel like I've lost.

I've been listening to music a lot lately, using it to boost my mood. And this song in particular is one I hum under my breath daily. I'm hoping it'll help eventually.

"Some nights I stay out cashing in my bad luck.
Some nights I call it a draw.
Some nights I wish my lips could build a castle.
Some nights I wish they'd just fall off.
But I still wake up,
I still see your ghost.
Oh Lord, I'm still not sure what I stand for.
What do I stand for? What do I stand for?
Most nights I don't know anymore."

I know I won't hurt like this forever, and I miss a lot of things. Who knows though, maybe all of this needed to happen for me to be built back up. Let's get this show on the road.

Monday, September 3, 2012

Time Has Not Been On My Side

Writing this hurts more than I thought it would. I feel incredibly lonely right now and am having a hard time seeing the "bright side" of things. The past four days have been absolute hell.

I'm single again.

That hurts to see. It makes my breath catch in my throat and my eyes water. I think the worst part is it isn't for any real, big, horrible reason either. The truth is, he's terribly busy, like beyond anything he should be expected to do.

I never could have seen last Thursday coming and expected to spend all of Labor Day weekend wrapped up in my boyfriend's arms. However, the world has been unforgiving. He did his best to make it a bit less painful, and I was the stupid one to drag it on for three days and attempt reconciliation so quickly.

I'm bad at going down without a fight.

And I did fight, hard, but my fighting could not change the fact that time was still a large issue that could not be fixed at the moment. He told me it was unfair to me, unfair for me to wait around for him to become less stressed. He was right, but I didn't want to hear that.

I lied, when I said "the worst part" earlier. There are actually two other "worst parts" that go along with the first: we love each other and were a great couple. In his own words, "We were a damn near perfect couple, Molly, we really were." And he's right again, we were. From beginning to end things were fairytale-like.

You never want to get wrapped up in a fairytale for fear shit will hit the fan soon, but after so many months I accepted my good luck and looked longingly into the eyes of the man of my dreams standing next to me.  I had even gone as far as to think he was the one and all that mushy shit...and I'm not that romantic of an individual.

He said he wishes he had met me after he had established his career, and true things then would be different, but the unfortunate truth is that is not the case. And there they are, right next door, my perfect man and perfect relationship, kept from me because of time. I'm beginning to hate that word, "time."

This one...will be hard to get over, if I ever do (not trying to be dramatic here). I don't see myself falling out of love with him anytime soon. "Maybe someday," he says, "who knows maybe I won't be so busy in three weeks or after a couple months." Maybe.

I hate to be the cliche female fool clinging onto the "maybe," but I am. Yes, it is over, and I'll have to accept that eventually, but that "maybe" will ring in my ears for quite a while still. So my life will go on, and I'll try to push that "maybe" further in the back of my mind.

I have a full day's worth of homework to deal with today and I'll have to, hopefully not in vain, focus my mind. My eyes are still puffy from the sporadic bursts of tears and I'll hold an ice cube to them to bring the swelling down. I'll work out today to counteract all the crappy food people have been forcing on me lately.

At the very least, if time refuses to be my confidant and fucks me over and Alex and I never do end up with flexible schedules, I have my very good friend at my side. He will always be important to me and has been one of the most influential people in my life. I hope he knows that. I'm looking forward to a couple weeks from now when we can have coffee and talk.

I hate starting from scratch, but then again, it'll keep my senior year interesting.