Well That Didn't Work

JADED
After spending a crappy weekend in NJ, a frightening coincidence regarding Dennis' father's death, getting no sleep Tuesday or Wednesday, taking two consecutive finals Thursday morning, seeing Dennis (we met in Dupont Circle and talked for three hours, like we always do) Thursday afternoon, and seeing Jeff (who has decided he's in love with me) Thursday night, I'm completely emotionally drained. I just feel dead at this point...I think the word "jaded" is applicable. I spent most of the day yesterday in bed being completely unproductive and trying to catch up on sleep (which didn't happen.)

I'm trying to think of something good that's happened in the last few days... I got in touch with an old friend of mine from Texas. He was one of my closest friends and we kept in touch for three years after I moved to Connecticut, an impressive feat for anyone, let alone an 11 and 12 year old. Anyway, he moved to California and we just drifted apart, but I got in touch with him via The Facebook earlier this week and we talked online briefly last night...that was ok

Adi's birthday is today. She wants to drink and go to a male strip club tonight...I'll let y'all know how that goes.

Yeah, that's pretty much it. I guess I'm just hoping something truly nice will happen in the next few days...a guy I'd date shows up at my door with flowers and asks me out, my girlfriends take me out shopping, I don't know...something corny and sweet that someone else does for me for once. I love doing things for other people and I don't expect anything in return, but sometimes I think that would be nice. I sound selfish now, wanting people to do something for me (especially since I'm not doing too much for myself,) so I'm just gonna go...I have good friends though, I do...

...I'm just in a weird place right now. Comments ()
I FEEL LIKE I'M 7 ALL OVER AGAIN...
...all I want is a relationship. BRACE YOURSELVES FOR AN EXTREMELY CORNY ENTRY. All of my dreams both during the day and at night (yeah, I started having dreams again--weird) are consumed by him, the man whose face I can never see. You know the Savage Garden song "I Knew I Loved You?" It goes "I knew I loved you before I met you. I think I dreamed you into life..." and lately, it seems oddly fitting. I'm so deeply in love with him and I've never even seen him...

I've never seen his face, but I know his body type and how he dresses. He has thick brown hair and a smile that could melt an iceberg. He's your typical tall, dark, and handsome...oh, is he handsome (not hot, not cute, handsome.) He's incredibly, ridiculously intelligent and I have a tremendous amount of respect for him. I'm interested in everything he has to say about anything and I hang on every word he says. His name is something like Danny or Ben, names fitting for someone like him. He's genuinely kind and very romantic. He adores me and reminds me constantly just how much he loves me, he talks about the future, our future.

I can see him proposing, my ideal proposal. I see our wedding, our matching smiles. I see our honeymoon, snuggled together on a beach somewhere thousands of miles from the world we both know. I see our home, our perfect house, perfect because of the atmosphere we've created there. We laugh together as we try to fix our kitchen sink, surrounded by boxes we've yet to unpack.

We're not perfect, we have arguments, but we're very much in love.

But he exists only in my dreams. I don't think men feel love, I don't think men dream about love and marriage, about starting lives of their own...I talk about relationships with my guy friends all the time...not one of them has ever told me he just wants to meet the right girl.

I don't know if I believe in love anymore, it was all a lie...maybe it only exists in dreams. Comments ()
LIKE I SAID, SOMETHING ALWAYS DIES IN APRIL
LONG ENTRY WARNING! Ok, that being said, a lot's happened in the last few days. I got an extension on my paper on the psychology of religion and went home on Friday, though not in that order. The stress I've been under recently has given me a fairly severe case of writer's block, highly unusual for me (especially on a topic I'm so interested in.) I'd thought that going home and getting a change of scenery would help cut down on the stress a bit.

I was wrong.

I don't know what the hell I was thinking, why on earth I thought going back to New Jersey would be relaxing; it's possible that my vision was clouded by the pleasantry of my mother's visit two weeks ago. Regardless, I am once again fearing going home over the summer. If classes and bartending don't keep me sufficiently occupied (did I mention that? I'll be taking an introductory biology class at William Paterson University and a sign language class at Montclair State University, as well as bartending - as many hours as possible - over the summer) over the course of those four months, refuge has been offered to me at Adi's (45 minutes from my house) and Mitch's (here in D.C.) thankfully. Four months...God help me.

Everyone in that house is miserable. My father is stressed about his job and the costs of everyone's health and my education, my sister is stressed because she's finally started understanding why I hate New Jersey, and my mom is dealing with the emotional effects her cancer has on her as well as the stresses of her family, myself included. My sister was the real problem this weekend. She seemed almost as stressed as I was , but unlike me, who slept and relaxed to cope, she took her stress out on everyone around her. For example, I'd promised to help her burn a cd sometime while I was home. Unfortunately for me, I was sleeping at the time my sister wanted the cd and that just wasn't acceptable. I was awoken from my nap and yelled at...real relaxing, don't you think? So, yeah...I didn't get the rest I needed, so I'm still sick and even more stressed.

Anyway, my friend Mikey gave me a ride back to D.C. and is crashing in my room. We're gonna do something when I'm done with classes for the day. Tomorrow, I'll finish writing that damn psychology of religion paper . Finals start on Thursday...

...and now to explain the title of this entry. What I was originally going to post today (before the events of yesterday) was the following:

"Reading through my last month or so of posts, I realized how little I actually write about here. For example, (and I'd appreciate no criticism) Dennis and I talked on the phone for about an hour Wednesday night, it was so nice to hear his voice again. We were trying to determine if we could be friends or not. God knows, we both want to, but we're both worried that it'll be too painful...me more than him, I imagine. He certainly still cares about me, worries about my dad and maintains the role of protector, though in thought more than actions now. I guess we'll see how it goes."

So, we'd been talking more and more since the beginning of the month, a few hours online here and there and the one time on the phone...that's the backstory to what happened yesterday. Yesterday morning, I woke up in tears at 5:00AM. I waited until a reasonable hour and called Dennis, leaving a message on his voicemail, "Let me know what the doctor said." I finally heard from Den a little after midnight this morning...his father died yesterday at 4:30AM. Weird and thoroughly upsetting. Dennis isn't doing well.

There are a number of ways people handle being upset. Dennis' way was to rationalize everything, to make everything logical. "There's no point to crying because it won't solve the problem" kind of thing. The trouble is, when people like that come across something that upsets them so much they can't logic it out, it hits them HARD. The few times I saw Dennis genuinely upset while we were dating, it was bad...crying, snot dripping bad.

Our conversation last night, though short, was very meaningful, at least to me. When I visited Dennis in Miami this summer, I spent most of my time with him, a little with his younger brother, Jason. The last day I was there, while Dennis was taking a shower, Dennis' father sat me down and started talking to me; it was a conversation Dennis never knew we had...

Me: Please, call me if you need/want anything...I really am a good therapist and I'm upset too. I did meet him...wrote him letters, once or twice
Dennis: what did you write him?
Me: After I left, I wrote him a letter or two, just general stuff, thanking him, talking about you, how proud he should be; I told him about Washington at the end of August when I moved here
Me: You didn't know this? I could have sworn I told you.
Dennis: did you ever get a response? no
Me: No, never got a response.
Me: But he did talk to me before I left last year, we had a nice chat the last day I was there, or the day before I left...you were in the shower
Dennis: what did you talk about?
Me: He just told me how nice he thought I was, that he was proud of his son for many things, but especially for his taste in women, lol. There was more, but that was the most of it...I mean, it was significantly expanded. He was proud of you, told me to take care of you in college...and (I remember this really clearly, cuz I thought it was hysterical) to tell him if you stepped out of line
Me: Didn't phrase it like that, but told me no less
Dennis: how did he phrase it?
Me: Let me think for a second...something like "and you let me know if he ever does anything that upsets you, you're a sweet girl" He drove me crazy for upsetting you so much, but we had a really nice talk, so I wrote him a few times to keep in touch. He really was so proud of you...you could hear it in his voice, even through the heavy accent. It was a really meaningful conversation, it's why I'm so upset.

Dennis seemed grateful for the information. He left shortly after...his away message read "Someone once told me something always dies in April." He seemed so upset, not that he shouldn't have. God I wanted to give him a hug, I wanted a hug from him too...I am upset about his father's death, not simply that Dennis' is upset, and Dennis is the only one I can mourn with. My parents wouldn't care, no one here or in NJ knew him, only Dennis.

I cried quite a bit yesterday...cried the whole way back to Washington...I just kept repeating "two more weeks, two more weeks, two more weeks" to myself. The problem is, the problems, the stess...they don't end in two weeks, they just change to new problems and stress. I don't get it...people lose things that they love when they take them for granted...I am so grateful for the things I have...the things I had. All I keep thinking is "what's next?" Look at my life and tell me you wouldn't be asking the same thing...

It'll be ok...I just don't know how quite yet. Comments ()
IF I HAD $1,000,000 (OR $205,000,000)
I'm on the bus heading home and daydreaming. My friend Will (one of a very select few people I still speak to from high school, by choice I might add) and I were talking a few days ago about his away message which read something along the lines of :

$1,000,000 on friends' education
$1,000,000 on cars and other things for friends
$1,000,000 on bulletproof vests for the troops
$1,000,000 on subscriptions to Playboy for the troops
$1,000,000 on my dream house

Accounting for taxes, let's say that $205,000,000 jackpot is reduced to $55,000,000. I've spent $5,000,000...I think the $50,000,000 I'd have left over is enough to live on for the rest of my life.

Will had bought a lottery ticket, if you hadn't gathered. Like I said, I was daydreaming... if I won the lottery (that gave me $55,000,000) I'd...

...pay for my, Adi, and my sister's education ($500,000)
...buy each of us a car ($100,000, maybe more knowing Adi's expensive taste in cars)
...buy my mom her dream house ($1,000,000)
...take my family on vacation (I can't see this being more than $5,000 for an all out, all inclusive, super cool vacation somewhere)
...give a few million to various charities ($2,000,000-$5,000,000)
...buy my dad the farm he wants for all the dogs he wishes he had (my mom's dream house would be on that property. $500,000ish)
...invest some in stocks, bonds, etc, etc ($2,000,000-$5,000,000)
...save the rest (about $30,000,000, give or take)

I don't think that's living lavishly. College, cars (for the record, I just want your basic $20,000 Jetta, not an Escalade like my sister or a Aston Martin, Porsche, Lamborghini, Saleen, Jaguar or Bentley like Adi'd want) and a place for my parents to enjoy...that vacation is the only thing I'd be splurging on, and I probably spend only what was necessary, except for a visit to the spa for me, my mother, and my sister...

I think I'll buy a lottery ticket or two tomorrow. Comments ()
18 BOOKS AND EIGHT HOURS LATER...
Well, I had a fun weekend. Due to my 102F fever and the cough, flem, sneezing, sniffing, and sore throat that accompanied it, I decided to quarantine myself in my room and get some rest. So, from Friday night to this morning, I left my room solely for bathroom runs, downed a full carton of orange juice, probably overdosed on Alka Seltzer (if that's possible,) and did homework...I had a lot of work...

Anyway, I'm feeling better now, thank God! All that I've got now is a harsh cough, but it doesn't hurt to breath anymore so I'm content with it. My mom wants me to come home for Passover this weekend. I'd really like to go (though I wouldn't really be looking forward to seeing my extended family,) but I have a huge paper due on Monday. If I finish it by Friday afternoon (or at least most of it,) I'll go home.

It's not going well.

I've been sitting in lounge of the 7th floor (I've taken over, lmao...18 books sprawled out over a table alongside 12 pages of handwritten notes and my laptop) since 2 o'clock (working the ENTIRE time, I swear)this afternoon and you know what I've got? Half of my introduction--the introduction!

"If we take psychology back to its root - the study of the soul - the connection between religion and psychology is as old as human history itself. Though originally complimentary to the one another, today, the relationship between the two disciplines is greatly conflicted. Psychology has often viewed religion as a repressive mechanism that interferes with personal grown while many religious leaders view psychology with suspicion. Pope Leo XIII's encyclical on modernism mentioned the potential destructive effects of psychotherapy and psychological theories of human behavior upon the emergence of such studies at end of the 19th century (Gillespie 23-24). In the extreme of this conflict, scientific psychology and Judeo-Christian perspectives are at odds and locked in a struggle to capture the minds of humanity. Regardless of the church's view of psychology, due its extremely influential nature, psychologists will continue to study its impact on the human psyche for years to come. "

My thesis isn't even in that. I'm screwed and, as always, it's not in the good way. Comments ()
JUST FOR THE RECORD...
...I'd like to acknowlege the one year "birthday," if you will, of this blog. I had intended to mark the occasion by posting yesterday about all that's happened this past year, on everything that's changed, for better, for worse, etc, but as I started typing the entry, I became increasingly upset.

While I realize that I'm in a much better place now than I was one year ago, the amount of pain I had to go through to get here wasn't worth reliving for the sake of an entry. So, as you'll notice, I opted to let my last year's worth of posts speak for themselves and not post such an entry. Feel free to take a browse through the archives. I, myself, intend to look forward, I don't do that enough. Comments ()
YES I DO ...
I received a text message on my cell phone last night from a number I didn't recognize. "Hey Sam," it said. "I know I have been a bad friend. I am sorry I did not tell you how awkward I felt. You are so sweet and wonderful and you need to know that. I appreciate so much all you have done for me."

I didn't know what to make of it since I didn't know who the message was from. I decided to find out, so I called the number from which the message was sent. It turns out that it was a friend of mine from GW, a girl that was one of Dennis' neighbors at the beginning of the school year, when were still together...I hadn't heard from her in months.

This particular friend, whose name I shall withhold, has some rather serious issues with depression. I had tried to help her get the help she needed last year; I gave her the numbers of a bunch of places that she could seek help on a college student's budget, either free or extremely inexpensive. The real challenge had been finding someone that would treat a minor without parental permission. (My friend only turned 18 in January and her father, like countless others, would not look kindly upon his daughter seeking psychiatric treatment.)

Anyway, I hadn't heard from her in a few months, so I was quite surprised to hear her voice on the other end of the phone line. I was even more surprised when she said, "so, yeah...I was released from the psych ward of the George Washington University Hospital yesterday." She proceeded to tell me that one week ago, her life finally caught up with her and she had taken the advice that I'd given her months before to check herself into a hospital if she needed to. "The doctor there reminded me of you," she said.

When I got off the phone, I had a huge smile on my face. I was really glad that my friend was taking positive steps in her life, that she was getting the help she needed and deserved. I must confess that I also felt a great, but horribly selfish, sense of accomplishment. Something that I told someone months ago had touched her so much that she had not only remembered it after such a period of time, but had appreciated it enough to thank me. "The doctor reminded me of you," she had said. "You should be a psychiatrist."

"I'm gonna be," I said, smiling. She was thrilled.

So, now, basically, I'm confident that I've found my calling. After we got off the phone, my friend and I continued to talk online. She kept repeating, "you get it," throughout the conversation...and there it was. Suddenly I was back to my normal mood level..."yeah, I do," I typed...yes I do. Comments ()
ATTRACTIVE SWF N/S F/T STUDENT ISO SWM PREFERABLY N/S W/ SOH ISO A LTR.
"So what? They should get a medal for correctly identifying a feeling? We do that all day long. I feel pissed off. Ta-da!" --Miranda of "Sex in the City" mocking Samantha's choice to take back an ex who cheated on her because he said being fearful of commitment was the only reason he did so.

Adi, Mitch, Alex, an assortment of the other 7th floor, and I talk about sex and relationships on a regular basis. Over the course of accumulated hours of conversations, we've all agreed on the following:

Vaginas make women crazy and often evil and manipulative, as well. Penises make men stupid enough to fall for it or, more often than not, just plain stupid.

The women in the conversation conceded to the former point, the men, the latter, so I think it's fair. ..I've been thinking a lot about men and relationships recently. I'm not entirely sure why, but I believe my thought processes can be linked to a few things. First off, my newfound addiction to "Sex in the City." Those women are absolutely crazy so, as Buddha said when I told him I was watching the show, "it's no wonder they're 30 and single." They may be 30 and single, but they certainly do get a lot of sex. I'm an attractive, college coed and I don't get as much action as they do. Admittedly, that's my fault. For example, another one of the other reasons I've had men on the brain recently is my friend Nick, who asked me if I'd be interested in being his "hookup buddy." I'm not sure why he thought that I, of all people, would say yes, but when I asked him he said he just hoped I would because I'm "ridiculously hot and fun to hang out with." I told Nick that though I'm not really a conservative person, I consider sex a very personal thing, something that two people do when they love each other (ya, I know it sounds cliche) and that, quite frankly, I couldn't have sex with someone I wasn't in a relationship with. So, seeing as I just rejected commitment free sex, it's pretty clear that it's my fault the completely insane, 30something women in that show get more action than I do.

Nick and I got to talking, after I explained to him why most women would find the question "have you ever had an orgasm?" very weird, if not rude, about relationships yesterday. Eventually, we got around to relationship phobias, his was commitment. When he asked me why I didn't have a fear of commitment like many in the dating world today, I explained to him that a real relationship was all I'd ever wanted growing up. My relationships with my family were usually strained and I didn't really have any friends so, instead of wishing for ponies or Barbie's super ultra mega pink convertible like all the other girls my age, I wanted a relationship, be it a best friend or a boyfriend. Nick thought that was cute. Then, he asked me what my relationship phobia was. "Trust," I told him.

"What do you mean?" he asked, "you always think a guy is cheating on you?"
"Oh God no! I mean trusting a person with my feelings, that kind of thing."
"What's the difference?"
"Well, the way I see it, there are two kinds of trust in a relationship: relationship trust and personal trust. When someone asks you to be in a relationship with them, you automatically give them relationship trust, they don't have to earn it, they have it until they prove they don't' deserve it. That trust is the trust that they aren't cheating on you, things like that. If you don't have that from the beginning, they'll always be suspicion, etc and the relationship will fall apart before it even starts."
"And personal trust?"
"Personal trust is, you know, getting comfortable enough with a person to confide in them, trust that they aren't going to leave or judge you. "
"That's really interesting, I think I need some time to take all that in. So, personal trust is where you have problems?"
"Ya, it takes me a while to trust someone. My friend Adi, I trust her completely, but it took me a while. Dennis I trusted fully as well. That's about it though. Everyone else I've trusted even the tiniest bit has done something to break that trust, so, I'm rather wary of who I can talk to."
"So, why won't you tell me if you've ever had an orgasm?"
"Because if I say no, you'll say 'I can fix that,' and if I say yes, you'll ask to hear all about it."
"Basically"
"So why should I tell you? I already know your responses. For no, I've already turned down your offer to "fix that" by turning you down when you asked me to be your hookup buddy and, for yes, we've already established that I have trust issues and that I consider sex a personal thing, so I wouldn't tell you all about it. Therefore, I have no reason to tell you whether or not I've ever had an orgasm."
"Makes sense, man, you're crazy."

That brings me back to "vaginas make women crazy, penises make men stupid." Those of us with vaginas may be crazy, but let me tell you why: we know what we want, we know what we're feeling, we think constantly (none of that "I'm not think about anything" crap,) and all that's frustrating. Even more frustrating are men, who don't seem to know any of that. So, we have a reason for being crazy, what's their excuse for being stupid?

For all their stupidity, I still want one (see this entry's title,) a fact that only further proves Mitch's theory that vaginas make women crazy...*sigh* I still want one. Comments ()
INTERESTING
"Interesting" seems to be the only word I can use to describe my life at the moment. Interesting, and perhaps, complex.

This rather introspective month has given me a lot to think about, despite being only 10 days in. As I said in an earlier entry, Aprils are like that for me. Thursday was a particularly thoughtful, and thus, excruciatingly painful day. After a full day of classes, I headed down to Georgetown to solve the most minor of my current problems, cabin fever. Unfortunately, being alone with my thoughts brought me dangerously close to the edge of complete insanity. I called Adi from a cab (I took a cab when I could have taken the bus-that's how upset I was) nearly in tears and asked her if she could talk. By the time I got back to AU, I was hysterical in tears. It's very rare that I cry, even rarer that I let anyone see me do so. Adi's a great friend though, she really is...she listened to me go on and on and on about only one of the things engulfing my thoughts, gave me a hug and even offered to watch a chick flick with me (Adi doesn't do chick flicks...EVER.) We ended up going to Chipotle, picking up stuff to make Rice Crispy treats, and watching most of the second season of Sex in the City (apparently, I couldn't call myself a real woman until I had seen the show. Glad to say I can now count myself among the ranks of non-penis wielding persons around the world.)

I decided I needed to recuperate after that night, so I stayed in bed all day Friday, literally. I didn't leave my bed, not my room, my bed. Finally, around 7:00, I was dragged, in thought alone kicking and screaming, by my friend Matt who wanted to get food at the university's cafeteria, TDR. The rest of the evening was uneventful, spent mostly in my room watching movies with Adi, her boyfriend, Matt and Matt's friend Paul...uneventful that is until Hannah sexiled me and I was forced upstairs. As it happens, the shit that'd been building up in the triple (Alex, Mitch, and John's room) finally hit the fan on Friday night. Long story very short, Mitch has been really stressed this semester and has used his stress as an excuse for his short temper, snide comments, and general poor treatment of the people around him. To his credit, he's a really sweet guy, the behavior he's adopted over the course of the last four months is, undoubtedly, the result of the stress he's been under...still, it's no excuse. Anyway, Adi walked in on him making out with a girl and he completely snapped. She wasn't horribly offended, she knows he didn't mean harm by it, but Alex had had it. He and John took turns (seriously) talking/arguing/confronting Mitch about the various things that they felt had needed to be said for quite some time by then. Meanwhile, Adi, Crissy and I waited to make sure all was well and counseled/listened to them as needed all night. I didn't get to sleep until 8:30 AM.

Saturday morning, I was awoken by a phone call from my mother, who wanted to inform me that she'd be in D.C. within the following 40 minutes or so. Her visit was a very, very welcomed one. After all the things I've been going through coupled with the drama that a considerable number of my friends are involved in, etc, etc, I needed something nice. A girls' day, as my mom calls it, was just the thing.
We went out to lunch at a little French restaurant call La Madeleine's; it's a chain of restaurants, the closest of which is located in Georgetown. There was a La Madeleine's near our house in Texas and on the girls' days we went on back then, we usually ate there. Sadly, there weren't any near our house in Connecticut when we moved there and there aren't any near our house in New Jersey, so we hadn't been to one in years. It was really nice, the food was just as we remembered it and I really enjoyed my mom's company.

From the restaurant, we proceeded to browse the rather upper class Georgetown Park mall...we played on Segway Scooters!! My mom's face was classic, one of simultaneous horror and amusement ...kinda like the face I'm almost positive Adi made when she read the word "boyfriend," in reference to Dave, above. : o ) After the people at the Segway store made us leave, we headed out to Virginia to a store that carries a brand of make-up my mom loves-a brand that is particularly difficult to find. We debated over which shade of foundation would look best on me, which lip color would look best on her...ya, the transition between teen tomboy and sexy college girl is now officially complete...I gave advice on make-up. Just kidding.

From there, we picked up Adi and went to Maggiano's (an amazing Italian restaurant that serves portions that would fill an elephant) for dinner. My mom loved Adi, Adi loved my mom...it was good.

The massive amount of food and a day spent with someone as rambuncious as me tuckered my mom out (she's on painkillers for her cancer that exhaust her early everyday,) so I took her to her hotel. The evening sucked after that point. My mom left the car with me, along with her blessing to take it out around the city and have fun. I thought I'd round up some friends and go cruisin, but, as usual, I had difficulty finding someone to go with. Adi and Dave came along, of course, but I had hoped I could get Mitch or Alex out with us, I barely see them anymore. They always have something to do. I understand that Alex, for example, has a lot of work, so let me explain why I'm so upset with him (and a handful of others.) I asked Alex on Monday of last week if he'd care to accompany me to local hookah bar at the end of the week, Thursday or Friday, and catch up on everything that's been going on, since I hadn't talked to him in quite a while. He said he had tons of work, so he doubted it, but he'd check and to ask again on Thursday. His answer on Thursday was that he had way too much to do. Twenty minutes later, I went down to my room and saw him smoking hookah in the amphitheatre through my window. He didn't even call me to tell me he was taking a break. I don't take it personally, I mean, it's not just me that he hasn't spent much time with recently, but I figure that if he was a real friend, he'd at least try to make time to see me, if only for a meal...doesn't even seem like he wants to at this point.

Yes I know that I'm overreacting. I do have a lot of friends that do make that kind of effort...I appreciate them very much, I imagine they know that.

Anyway, my mom left early this afternoon. I thanked her for a really nice day...it was so nice. Since then, all I've done is shower, laundry, a few physics problems, and post here, so I'd best be off. I actually have quite a bit more to post about (this was a "here's what I've done since Thursday" entry, not a "these are my thoughts on _____" entry,) but I didn't want to push my lovely readers into information overload...I'll post again soon. : o ) Comments ()
I LOVE YOU ALL, TOO

I added some tracking code to the template of this site yesterday...I've had 34 hits total since then, 27 of which were today. So my question is this: why is it that 27 people have viewed my site today and yet there are ZERO (correction: Adi posted one) comments on either of the entries I've posted in the last 24 hours?

I love you all too.

UPDATE (9:35 PM) -The hit counter has jumped to 72, only 12 of whom had been here before, today or prior to the installation of the counter...God bless cookies.

You know what else? No comments... : o ( Comments ()
A DAY OF REFLECTION
3:00PM
If you haven't noticed (judging by my past few entries,) April is a month of reflection for me. Despite the gorgeous weather (I spent the whole day outside on Tuesday just basking in the sun and playing whiffle ball and frisbee with friends-activities which I shall have to post about later,) I hate the month of April. In my experience, only bad things happen in April. For example, my dog, Parlay-the most amazing dog ever- died April 3rd, 2001, my bird Sunshine died April 20th, 2003, another one of my family's dogs, Ridglea, died April 21st last year, my mom's last cancer surgery was last April, Dennis got his stupid makeover that changed everything last April...regardless...April seems to have become a month of reflection, but little clarity for me.

I started wondering this afternoon if my recent (somewhat) obsession with the past stems from a fear of looking forward. I mean, I ache for a new relationship, but I would take the relationship I had over a new one even if I (somehow) knew the new one would be just as good. That doesn't necessarily mean I'm scared of starting something new, mind you. The point is, I'd like to say I'm scared of the future, but the truth is, I'm not; the future is all that keeps me going most of the time. I'm looking forward to it, I only wish it would get here faster.

I wrote an entry a while back on the existence of happiness. In the entry, I wrote that happiness is always in the future, awaiting you. When do get there? Someone asked me yesterday if could be anywhere, where I would be. I answered "on a beach in a country where they've never seen a telephone," but what I was thinking was "on a beach wrapped in the arms of my new husband on our honeymoon." Don't worry guys, lol, I'm not seeking marriage out of my next relationship (whenever that is,) I'm just looking for something genuine, if that makes sense.

It's times like these that I wished I believed in God, if only so that I could pretend to think that it will all work out.

8:00PM
Adi met this guy late last night while smoking hookah out in the amphitheatre. Apparently, they hit it off right away and stayed up all night talking...he's going to ask her out, no question. She's practically giddy. I'm so happy for her; I am sincerely and genuinely happy for her. I care about Adi so much, she's probably the closest friend I've ever had and seeing her happy makes me happy, well...happier than I would be otherwise anyway.

10:00PM
Adi brought Dave (the guy) by my room while I was working on a micro paper (my workload for the week,) I'm fairly certain for my blessing. He seems nice enough. Anyway, while we were all talking, I loaded this page and showed Adi the pictures that Dennis had sent me earlier. She started telling Dave about how my "ex boyfriend was a douche," etc. When I contested, she asked Hannah (my roommate who neither of us are really friends with) if she thought Dennis was an ass; she agreed she thought he was, quite strongly I might add. I really wish that people that didn't know Dennis wouldn't pass judgment. He hurt me a considerable amount, yes, but he's not a bad person. I wouldn't have dated him if he was. Adi keeps saying she hates him, but if she knew him, I think they'd actually get along extraordinarily well.

3:00AM
Adi and Dave left at 11:30 and I spent the following 30 minutes writing that econ paper I'd attempted to start an hour and half earlier. When I finished, I called my friend Matt (for clarity since I know at least 3 Matts, Matt L, a Delt pledge) to see if he still wanted to do something-he'd called earlier, but I had that paper to read for. Anyway, we went out on the quad and just sat and talked and stargazed for a while (no you can't really see any stars;) it was nice. Adi joined us later, I introduced them and we resumed our conversation, this time, with Adi, who had come to the quad to invite me (as well as Matt) to join her, Dave (not the Dave that eventually did ask Adi out, our friend Dave from the 7th floor,) Dave's girlfriend Ashley, Alex and an acquaintance, Julia, to smoke hookah in the amphitheatre. By the time we got there, the hookah was gone, but we chilled with them for a while anyway.

Each year, AU gets a $1,000,000 donation from an alum to be used solely for the upkeep of the landscaping on campus. I know, it sounds ridiculous (my first day here, the flowers outside my dorm were orange, on the third, they were dug up and replaced with purple ones--yeah, "Wtf?!" was my response too) but it's true. This time of year our campus is amazing... everything is in bloom. To my point: there were thousands of daffodils in the amphitheatre so Adi and I eached picked a bouquet of them...trust me, given the amount of daffodils planted in that relatively small area, the ones will picked will hardly be missed. Mine are currently in a vase placed atop one of my stereo speakers.

Probably the most significant event of the night, however, was right after Adi and I had finished picking flowers. Adi asked me to join her for dinner at Chipotle tomorrow night and offered me a bite of her burrito. If you don't know Adi, you don't see how that's a big deal, but it is. Adi doesn't share food (she actually broke one of her friends' noses for taking food off of her plate,) especially her Chipotle (a favorite of not only Adi, but most everyone on campus) EVER. For her to offer someone a bite of her burrito is comparable to a wedding proposal. I teased that her offer meant we were non-romantic life partners; she laughed. I don't know if any of you will get it, but the fact that Adi offered me a bite of her burrito made me feel extremely loved. It's awesome to know that Adi considers me as close as I consider her.

Ok, I have class in 6 hours and I need to get some sleep for it. G'night. Comments ()
MY MEMORIES ARE IN BLACK AND WHITE
Dennis sent me these...don't ask...*sigh*

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IT ONLY SEEMS RANDOM

I never got that damn pencil case.

My grandparents' house in Texas (it was amazing,) my house in Texas, the Carolina Jasmine that grew outside, my old furniture (including my glass shelves,) my dad's aquarium, Barbie's Dream Boat, my robotics kit, the entire Polly Pocket town, my supersoaker, Oakridge, the scenic route to get there, Clayton, four square, Brian, laser tag, Lincoln Square, the Galleria, the North Parks mall, River Legacy Park, Ridglea Country Club, the Fort Worth Japanese Botanical Gardens, the Lady Primrose tea room, the bluebonnets that bloom at this time of year, the old Arlington library, my parents' old warehouse, Schlotzky's, L'Madeline's, Albertsons, Tom Thumb, Victoria's house, dancing to Disney cd's, Marco Polo's Pizza, waking to Queen music blasting from my father's stereo, VHS tapes, the house we almost moved into, the wooded area behind my our crappy rental house in Connecticut, Middlebrook, Bead It, Tom. A. Toes, Lynn's house, Maggie's house, the Trumbull Mall, Scoops, Camp Hi-Rock, Trick-or-Treating, hearing Mr. Lancoy play Journey, Mr. Yaggi and Mr. O'Grady, the climb club, when my parent's current house was brown, thinking high school would be better than middle school, Parlay, Sunshine, Ridglea, Vanilla Bear, The Phunky Burrito, Beneli's...WDI.

I can't help but wonder if I'm giving up on my dreams...giving up on something before I ever had it.

UPDATE: This is a list of things that I miss...things that I'll never have/see again for one reason or another. Do you get it now? Comments ()

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