I’m never really sure how to present information when it’s not publically via the internet like I’ve spent most of my doing. I always talk about various things on the internet and I either get a response from someone (or many people) or I don’t get any response.
Having to deal with Hell Class from last semester, there were some friendships forged that would not otherwise have become friendships. I truly believe had it not been for the shared experience of that class, we all would have passed through each other’s lifes briefly and quickly and that would have been that.
The relationship I had with the boy (now the ex boy I suppose to keep things easy to understand for those following along) was left on the backburner. It had always been less significant for him (at least that’s how it felt to me) than it ever was for me. However, when it came to school and making things awkward or not awkward for those around us, I chose the not awkward route. I had my friends with whom I confided the sordid details of the final days of the relationship, but I kept it out of the public when it came to the people at school. I have a feeling that the assumption was that the ex-boy and I were together, but that very few people knew the actual status of the kind of relationship he and I shared. That was his request. I wasn’t ashamed of him, or scared of people knowing. But for him, however, it was all about “school is school and outside of school is outside of school.” They were different worlds in his mind and I respected that, even though I didn’t fully understand it.
Today was the first time anyone who has known the two of us, asked a question. Not just any question, but the question.
Friend 1: So, I have a question for you?
Me: Sure, what’s up?
Friend 1: So you and the ex-boy, you guys aren’t together are you?
Me: Oh no.
Friend 1: So you guys were never together?
Me: Oh we were, but that ended in November.
Friend 1 and 2: Oh!
And then came the questions and the quick rundown of what happened and the reasons why I ended things.
I explained to Friend 2 that I didn’t want things to be weird, or awkward for anyone so I left people out of it. After Friend 1 took off to meet her roommate, I walked with Friend 2 most of the way to her car and I explained some more of it.
While I often focus on a lot of the trivial nonsense: his lack of a job for 90% of our relationship, his scruffy hair, his inability to understand the “geek” side of me, etc. it really came down to much more than that. Something more fundamental. He simply didn’t respect me. I started to notice those negative traits he adopted from his roommates and thus turned them on me much earlier. However, the kind of relationship I had with the ex-boy versus the ex were totally different. It was almost easier to deal with the downright cheating the ex did over what the ex-boy did. It’s hard to decide when the time to walk away is. How much abuse do you continue to take when it’s inadvertent and masked by showers of admiration and attention? How can I be the “best girlfriend ever” and yet be the butt of your jokes when we’re out with your roommate?
It was those things that I couldn’t take anymore. The “show of power.” I miss aspects of that relationship, but for the most part I don’t miss the ex-boy at all. I definitely don’t miss the drama that went along with him, nor the drunken accusations, or any of the many other negative things that relationship produced.
No. There’s a clear line that has been created between his side of the room and mine. He respects that line, and it’s better that way… for both of us. It just seems weird to me that no matter how hard I try to keep things under wraps, there’s someone who is more observant than they let on. And they’re willing to ask the question no one else was.Filed under it's called life!, school | Comment (1)
The feeling of being overwhelmed has been around for a fair share of the last few days. I’ve made it a goal to try to get at least a chapter of reading done per day (though I’ve already fallen behind today to write a paper) in hopes of catching up on what has easily become the most ridiculous semester yet.
I realize that a lot of my frustration lies in the fact that I didn’t want to stick around Sac State for another semester and am currently attempting to take 18 units. Which considering the way the last 3 semesters have gone (minus hell class) it shouldn’t have been that bad. Too bad they’re ALL reading intensive classes. We’ll see how well I fare.
While it’s pretty late right this second, I’ve got most of my paper outlined and I’m just wasting a bit of time before getting all of the writing done. It will be done tonight before going to bed. Hopefully. *crosses fingers*
I mentioned on Plurk (and other social networking sites) how I needed to use my blogs more. Actually blog. I’ve gotten so used to the interaction of how Plurk works that I forget entirely the actual act of writing something other than a single sentence or two. The hope is that once I’ve caught up on all of reading, I can a) go out and socialize for more than an hour or two and b) I might be able to concentrate on doing some writing.Though at this point, crochet and knitting have been postponed as well. Which is even more sad since I joined Woolgirl‘s Sock Club and should be expecting the first shipment in upcoming weeks (about 3-ish).
*heavy sigh* And now I shall go back to the paper writing. Wish me luck.Filed under it's called life!, school | Comment (0)
My first semester of University was an interesting one. That strange feeling in the pit of my stomach as I ventured onto an unknown campus. No, I didn’t tour the campus before deciding on a school. It was literally the flip of a coin. I had two choices and only enough funds to apply for one. I picked one, got in, and the rest is history. That first semester I made two friends. Steve and Cindi. We met in our History of Rock class. I had the handful of people I spoke to, but mostly I stuck to myself. None of the friendships from that first semester became anything. Except with Mike (who obviously became my boyfriend after the second semester).
There’s a certain perception of people when you’re in class. I know that I have put myself into significant amounts of debt in order to be in school. Not everyone is in my boat. This is just part of the course of life. I had to struggle to get there. I had to deal with many ups, but mostly downs. I’ve had help from strangers, and help from friends. My father has helped me in more ways than I could ever count. So when I’m sitting in class, I’m there for a purpose… to learn. I’m not there to listen to the two stupid blonde girls chattering away as though they were at a baseball game (the one’s I’ve often shushed). I’m not there to listen to people whisper loudly in the middle of something a professor has just announced will be on a test/exam.I’m there to listen, and learn. Most… however… don’t understand this.
This semester has broken many molds. There are those who I wrote off as retarded, insignificant, annoying and any other negative term I could possibly imagine. And I’ve become friends with many of them. This Psychology 101 class has brought a group of people together that would not otherwise have been friends. I know this for a fact. We vary so much in age. We vary in background, previous education that led us to being in this class… but mostly, the proximity of our lab has yielded me some of the best friends I’m likely to make while in college.
The big plan next thursday after class… we’re all getting drinks. Together. As a whole unit. Because we endured. We made it through, by the skin of our teeth, but we made it through. All the tears, the sweat, the frustration and the annoyances will bring us to the same place. People I would never have sat with in a bar, I will sit with. We will all toast to the end and the finality of the semester. The hell we’ve all endured will be over. We became a family, that small group of us. We had a common bond, but it was more than that. It was the intimacy. The humor. The laughter we shared.
There is no better feeling in the world, than to find friends in people who previously annoyed the living shit out of you. I am one who LOVES and relishes in the fact that I can be wrong. And I was.
I will miss all of these people greatly… but come Thursday… we’re getting drunk!Filed under it's called life!, school | Comment (0)
So, basically here’s the deal. If you saw some weird page, for the two of you who come here to read, I’m sorry. When I log into the WP admin control panel thingie, I get this “UPGRADE NOW” message. I upgraded via Dreamhost, as I always do, and suddenly, everything is gone. It’s a completely new install. WTFF! (What the flying fuck, for those not in the know). I mean, here’s the automatically generated password for the first admin login, and what do you want to call the blog you’ve had for the last 7 months, but are now redoing because something got fucked up.
Yeah, I prayed and HOPED that Dreamhost could fix my epic failure attempt at upgrading.
So as I look and see this pink line across the top of my screen I want to flip it off and yell “FUCK YOU SQUIRREL!” to the Upgrade message. I’m terrified to do it again. TERRIFIED. Can I stress this a little bit more… I mean, unbelivably, unequivacably scared out of my fuckin’ mind of losing my blog… again. It’s not that I have all these great entries. Or that I have the most amazing layout known to man. But it’s mine and I want it.
So I’m SUPER happy that Dreamhost was able to fix it. And I’m super happy that I was so busy for the last couple of week that I hadn’t updated, there were no new comments or anything of the sort, because it gave that poor guy who got my email a chance to pull up a working back up and fix what the wordpress upgrade screwed up.
Wanna know what’s funny? I went to WP, to see if other people had issues. I wasn’t the only one. It may not have gone the same, but people were losing the ability to login with their admin passwords, and things just weren’t right. Fuck that stupid pink bar, I’ll leave it there until the next one comes out.
BTW, my favorite class is EDS 151 – American Sign Language 1. My least favorite class is everything else.Filed under school, techie | Comment (0)
I finally FINALLY finished the paper. Thank goodness! I was allowed to leave early from work yesterday, in order to try to tackle “the paper.” So I came home, showered and packed my stuff for a day at Starbucks, when all of my friends would not be there. Got the paper to about 5.5 pages, when I had to leave there because the lure of distraction was far too great. FAR FAR TOO GREAT!
I came home and with some help from a friend, got through some of the rough spots of the paper. Trudged through it, and at about 3:15 am, I had it printed, stapled and packed away safely in my backpack (so as to NOT forget it once I left the house). Set the alarm and passed out. I woke up with my phone (aka my alarm) in my hand, under the pillow.
Wanna know what time I woke up in the morning? 8:15am.
Wanna know how long my commute to school is? Most days, just over an hour.
Wanna know what time I was supposed to be in class? Yeah, 9am.
Even if I didn’t bother to change my clothes, brush my teeth, feed the cat, or have my “I just woke up” pee, I still wouldn’t have made it to school in time. So I didn’t rush it. I just got ready and took off.
The boy, on the other hand, is starting to drive me to the brink of insanity. I’ve been wanting to write about it. Bits of our conversation, in an attempt to at least (in part) understand what in the hell is going on. But it doesn’t make any sense. He makes little comments, here and there. Many other instances. I’ve also taken my estalking to a whole new level. He told me about his ex, and how he’s been feeling rather depressed because after everything she did to him… after all of the hell she put him through… and he forwarded the email exchange between the two of them.
I had her email. I looked it up on myspace. I found her. Her profile is private, so I searched for a way to see her pictures anyway. I saw pictures of the babies when he hasn’t. I saw a picture of her. I feel somewhat guilty in this, because even if as time passes we only become better friends, closer friends, and it never becomes anything more than that… I will have to carry this around with me… It will always remain a secret that I have, that he can never know.
The internet is not safe. While I know that even writing about it, there’s a chance that he might be able to stumble across it. But I have faith in his lack of computer knowledge and internet saavy, that he will likely never find any of this, unless I tell him. Once I post this, I know that I will never tell him. Ever.
It gets easier, every day. Though I know that I still care very deeply for him, and wish that our circumstances could’ve been different. I wish that we had met at a different point in both of our lives. My obsessive tendency will likely mean that as hard as the road will be, and as much debt as I will probably put myself into, after grad school, I’ll be moving away from here. Anywhere. But I will not stick around. Best case scenario, I’ll be around for another 3 years before looking for employment somewhere other than here, and possibly a PhD program. Best case scenario, I can finally move abroad, to the UK, and pursue my education there.
Either way, my goals in life will inevitably take me away from him. As much as I want him right now.
He doesn’t make this easy for me. He doesn’t make it easy for me to slowly let go either. I want desperately to be on the back of his motorcycle, holding onto him tightly as we just go… no particular direction… just going. I want desperately to just… touch him.
No matter what I do… I can’t seem to shake all of the feelings I have for him… or release my sheer desire of him.Filed under school, the boy | Comments (2)
Yeah, stupid effing paper. I got another extension. Just a couple of days, but still. It’s quite possibly the most horrific experience I’ve ever endured in my college career. I just don’t understand how I’m supposed to pull all these parts together. Imagine trying to tie this and this together emphasizing the role of women as heroes, and then write 8+ pages about it. Yeah. That’s where I’m at right now.
And I need to poop. Literally. Though I can’t imagine packing ALL my crap up right now, just to go use the bathroom, and hope that I get my outdoor table with a plug again. BAH!
Anyone willing to write this paper for me, in less than 2 days? Right… didn’t think so.Filed under school | Comment (1)
I’m an idiot. A huge, giant stupid effing idiot. I should’ve started my damn paper a LONG time ago. What do I do? Exactly what I always do, put it off until the last minute.
And now, I have no idea where to start.
And I’ll likely not sleep tomorrow night just to get this damn thing finished.
No really… this is idiocy!Filed under school | Comment (0)
Every time. I do this every time. I know I have papers due. I know I have things to read. I know that i have the most ridiculous amount of homework to do, and yet, I find something else… something I shouldn’t even be spending my time doing… and that’s what I do.
Tomorrow, when I finally sleep off the Rockstar I’ve been consuming, I will half work on part of my paper and get it started… read as much of The Last Unicorn as I possibly can, and attempt to study for my Drugs quiz that I need to take before the end of Monday.
I’ve got a doll to finish crocheting before Thursday. My paper is due Thursday.
Always. I always do this to myself. People like the boy constantly tell me that I pull off the good grades with severe procrastination because of my intelligence. The ex-bff says similar things. Michiko has also said this. Everyone keeps saying it, like I should just accept this as “the way things are” when I know better. I mean, I KNOW better than to do this. I’ll pass my classes. I’ll get the paper written, and I’ll be unhappy with it… and somehow I’ll get some ridiculously good grade. I’ll take my quiz, get at least most of the book read, enough to participate in the discussions. And all of this in a matter of days, because it’s just what I do.
It’s how I roll.
But I still feel guilty for it. I still wish that I didn’t do it. And yet, I keep doing it. I guess… I like the punishment.Filed under school | Comments (3)
I knew that today was going to be a big day. I had to register for classes, though sadly, I was going to get stuck in the latter half of the afternoon, after a shitton of other people were going to get to register. Not sure how that all worked out. By the time it was 45 minutes from my registration time, my preferred lab class was wait-listed. WAIT-LISTED!! I mean, I wanted the boy to take Psychology 101 with me, and he picked his classes around that one (let’s not mention or talk about the fact that ALL of his other classes are the classes that I chose… I digress). He got in, of course. He had the most insane priority registration date. I, however, got fucked. I went ahead and wait-listed it, and signed up for another one, just in case. But seriously… it screwed my whole fuckin’ schedule up. THE. WHOLE. THING!
When I found this out, in the middle of Perception, I cried. I lost it. I nearly had the biggest nervous breakdown known to man! It was pathetic. And the boy was there to pat me on the back (literally) and tell me it would be okay and that I’d figure it out, cause I always do.
He makes these comments… all the time. I thought it was my imagination at first. That it was wishful thinking. Because some days I look at him, when he’s almost asleep in class, and wish I could touch him. Wish I could just… touch him. And other days, well, other days I wish he would just go away.
I can’t figure out what’s going on inside, and I’m confused. I can’t imagine that it’s so easy for him either. I’m guessing by the things he says, and the way he sometimes acts, that he’s equally confused. I’m only saddened by the fact that we can’t tough this confusion out together… hand in hand.
And while I smile at his little comments, and his text messages, and the smile on his face, and the look… the look he gives me… and the fact that he buys me coffee… even when I say “No thank you” too late… he thinks about me while he’s standing there in line. He thinks about me enough to buy me coffee. He buys me coffee even before I can say yes or no. And he pats my back when I’ve had a bad day. And hugs me when I think my school-world is falling apart.
Because in the end… I can’t choose to love him or not… it just happens. I just do.
I just wish he would love me back.Filed under school, the boy | Comment (0)
It’s funny. This whole relationship business. I mean, I’ve had my fair share of them… but the one with the boy was definitely different. I see him differently now. I see aspects of him that I still desire. Parts of him (and I’m not speaking about anatomy or physically) I admire and adore and want to be around constantly. Other parts, annoy me. His arrogance, for example. I thought this was something he was doing, or a way he was acting, to be cute. Instead I’m finding that he really is a bit of an arrogant ass.
I’m still hugely attracted to him. He’s still damn cute. Amazingly funny and intelligent. As time goes on, I’m going to have to deal with the fact that this is just a phase, or at least I hope it is. I realize that there’s going to be a day, one within the next year, when we’re either going to be closer friends or we’re going to be distant memories. We both have grad school to think about. We both have places we might move to, though he actually considered staying at our current college. Which to me is a shame.
Last night while chatting on yahoo with the boy, we had an interesting exhange.
him: of course, i’ll probably go to [our school] for grad school anyhow
me: why? why not go somewhere else… just cause you can?
him: don’t know where else to go? where would I go?
me: anywhere. the world is open to you now… pick a place and fuckin’ go!
him: true dat. homie but who has good psych grad programs and how do I find out? not to mention out of state tuitions etc
me: uh, U of Minnesota actually has some of the best psych programs in the US and you don’t pay out of state tuition for grad school
him: no shit why not?
me: USC and UCLA have good psych programs… *shrug* no clue, but it’s fact! what, don’t trust me
him: sure do. for any grad school or just u of minn?
him: Ha!! I didn’t know that!!
me: well, within the US
him: Oh, that’s friggin awesome
me: go to UHawaii!
him: I’m gonna do some research tonight
me: ha ha ha!
him: Hawaii here I (we) come!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Really? We?? *sigh* I could easily be reading too much into everything, sure. But I mean, really? You’re going to go to Hawaii after I tell you two things. 1) You can go anywhere, just effing go! I mean, just get the hell out of this state college and go somewhere, anywhere. And 2) You wanna go to Hawaii because I said something about going there?? We?!? So effing confusing.
I basically bombed my Perception exam. Why? Because I didn’t realize we were having an exam on the first day back from spring break. Why didn’t I know this?? Because the boy decided to call the night before and keep me up until 5am. Yup. Bad. bad. bad.
The semester is almost over, and I’m going to have to work on doing better in this particular class. Thus far, I have a solid C, and that’s just unacceptable. I’ll have to worry about getting high B’s or A’s to bring that up. Must. That’s just sheer laziness and I’m kicking myself in the ass for it now.Filed under school | Comments (3)