I'm going to be deleting my Myspace page, since I'm never on it and Myspace is kind of a joke anyway...so I wanted to pull my blogs off of it so that I don't lose them forever. Here we go...a blast from my past.Number One--(March 8, 2009. 5:19 AM)
Meredith became my partner in crime when I started working at McAlister's, and we never failed to have a blast together. Granted, we usually opted to skip class and go to McDonald's, but it must be said we didn't fail classes and we still have a lot of memories from those times. Nobody tells stories like Meredith, and I miss her all the time. Everytime we talk, though, it's like we're just down the street like we used to be.
Kristin was my first great roommate, and I learned more about my drinking ability, psychological knowledge, laughter, late night chats, great movies, and the bar scene from living with her for a year. There still isn't anybody else I'd rather talk psychology with, and I'm glad we're still great friends.
Elise moved in after Kristin graduated and moved away, and I totally understood that you find best friends because you are supposed to. We had so much fun watching Will and Grace, staying up late chatting, having each other's backs whenever it was needed, going to Wal-Mart late at night when everybody else was sleeping, playing Scrabble online when we should have been studying for exams, and laughing entirely too much. I miss her everyday, and I love it when she comes to visit me!
Lauren became my friend completely by chance, and through Elise. I don't think Oxford would be the same without wine and movie nights at her house, happy hour at Parrish's with her, somebody to cry with over stupid stuff, her willingness to listen to me rant over too many cigarettes, and our laughter. I miss her, and I'm happy she's coming to visit me this coming weekend.
Rachael remains one of the funniest people I have ever met, but she never bullshits me about anything, and I think that's made me grow up. This past year has been full of laughter, good cooking, Facebook stalking, and movie watching. I hate that I have to move away from her, because she has made my life so sweet.
Jes is probably my newest good friend, and I'm thrilled that she's going to Chattanooga with me for Spring Break! She's loud, spontaneous, hilarious, caring, and insanely smart. I'm going to miss her a lot next year.
Beyond just the people I've met here, the places are so remarkable it's hard not to love them. The Grove during football season is unlike any other place in the world, and everybody needs to experience that at least once; during the Spring, it's one of the most beautiful places on Earth. Parrish's, now Taylor's, Pub was introduced to me by Meredith and Kristin, and later became of favorite of mine, Lauren, and Elise as well. There have been so much laughter and love in that place, and I know it will be a favorite spot to go back to when I visit in the future. Peabody, or the Psychology building, has some great memories as well. I have learned so much in that old place, and I've made some good, intelligent friends there. The Student Union was a great place for fun meals, buying souveniers that cost too much money (and I plan to do this big time again before I leave), and magazine perusing. The Library provided hours of Scrabulous time, distractions from the stress of life, and occasionally some studying haha. My Nannie's house in Abbeville holds wonderful memories from my childhood and also from when I was 19 and 20. Though extended family members have tried to ruin that place, they don't have any say in that. My memories are forever. Another great place, though undoubtably these are not the only wonderful places in Oxford, is my old apartment at The Links. I lived there for 2 years, with 2 of my very best friends, and there were great things that happened there that will stay with me forever. This town is so remarkable, and I'm proud to be the third generation to attend Ole Miss. The day I leave this town will be one filled with tears, but also with smiles and laughter. Oxford is the spot that ever calls, and I'll be proud everytime I come back here as one of the thousands of alumni who always leave a part of their heart here. I may be gone in person for long periods of time, but a part of my spirit and a piece of my heart will remain, quietly laughing and walking across campus, or in the deserted hours of the bar, or driving down late night roads towards my future.
I look forward to moving back to Chattanooga and starting the next chapter of my life there very much. I know that I will be insanely happy to be in my hometown. Oxford will, of course, always kind of be a home to me. I grew up in so may ways in this town, strengthened my belief that true friends are a precious gift from God, allowed me to learn how important becoming a therapist is to me, and showed me life in a new town. I don't leave for a few months, but I wanted to talk a little about this now, as reflecting on my past brings me joy and makes me happy for my future. Oxford is a wonderful place, but it is time to go. The part of me that lingers will be forever in my late teens and early 20s, and when I forget that fun-loving part of myself from time to time, I will come back and discover that the friends I made here are forever, the memories will always be priceless, and Oxford will remind me indefinitely of innocence, laughter, and promise.
Number Two--(January 27th, 2009. 3:14 AM)
entirely too long. That's not to say that I haven't had some extremely rough times in the past few months, because I have had a bunch of things happen that would understandably cause just about anybody to want to give up. Between my friends moving away, DUI problems, freaking out about money because I don't have any, and not knowing if school was going to work out, it's been tough. Nonetheless, I am not the only person who has gone through trying times, nor will I be the last. It's taken a considerable amount of time and soul-searching to realize that I am the only one who holds the ticket to my happiness. I have had 4 glorious college years, filled with exciting trips, all-nighters in the library with best friends, late-night partying at numerous apartments and houses, bar nights with the girls filled with too many shots and walk-me-downs, intense crushes on bartenders (grrr CADE haha), numerous hook-ups with guys that range from extremely hot to well, a little less than what one might call attractive, late night chats, early morning classes, weeks filled with too much work that inevitably leads to a great deal of laughter, hilariously terrific roommates, and everything else you can think of in a great college experience. Alas, like many great things in life, that type of college is in large part over for me. Now, I just have to concentrate on finishing up my classes, get a consistent enough job to get me through the next few months until I can leave in August, and moving away.
Yes, leaving behind such a wonderful place will be tough, but I need to leave before I get too bitter about this little town. I want to come back and visit one day, and I fear if I stay too long, I won't want to do that. Also, I have literally thousands of memories to cherish from my time here. Everybody I have met has affected my life, and I will never forget the people I met here.
Now, I just have to get that job to sustain me, and that's easier said than done in these economic times. I'm used to always having a job, or getting one as soon as another one goes "kaput". I've never been rich, but I always had the option to go on a random 3 AM McDonald's run, go for a drink with friends, surprise my friends with little "happy's", or go out to eat with visitors. I miss that, and that's what has bothered me more than anything these past few months, well that and missing people. I also really miss Chattanooga; it is simply too beautiful and fun not to miss. In the future, I want to travel quite a bit, maybe even live other places, but Chattanooga is where I will end up. Oh, and when I'm a rich and successful therapist, maybe I'll have a vacation home in Oxford. I guess you can have more than one "spot that ever calls".
Number Three--(September 12th, 2008. 12:14 PM)--A memory within a memory.
May 21, 2008
It is 5:31 AM and I am sitting here, already having exhausted writing in my journal and talking to one of my best friends from home, and I quite simply cannot fall asleep. My hands are tired, and I didn't want to write in my journal again, because I am still unsure why the process of writing things out on paper sometimes seems like a foreign concept to me. I adore writing, and have since an early age. I remember distinctly a story I wrote when I was 10 about a couple who traveled tough roads in their lives, then met each other and married, finally happy with the outcome of some aspect of their lives. It is disheartening to know that the story was deleted because my Dad thought the sex scene was entirely too graphic to be written by a 10 year old. I know now, of course, that he was right. In fact, any sex scene at all written at the age of 10 would be a bit much. I have kept journals for practically my entire life. I remember one journal that I was particularly fond of that I received when I was probably about 9 years old. It was pink, and I still love the color pink. I found that journal when I was packing up for college; I'm not sure if I brought it with me to Oxford or not. The entries in it were never crucially important, because I wasn't astute enough at that age to write about the memories I have come to cherish 13 years later. Whats funny about those memories is that I couldn't possibly explain to somebody why they are so important, but I have always valued the little things so much in life. The big moments—graduations, birthdays, moves—are of vital importance, but life is not lived in big thrills but in small experiences.
I think about tagging along to my brother's little league games when I was probably 3 or 4. Other kids had chips and cookies to snack on, but my Mom usually gave me things like carrots and apple slices. This would become a point of contension later in life; I have no idea why. I do know that I dearly loved Fun Dip and those little suckers that were really chalky but tasted a lot like Sweettarts, and sometimes I got to get those. I remember the "treats" my brother and I were allowed to get when we were with my Dad when he stopped for gas. One treat, so it better be good. I remember developing a major attitude around the age of 5, and I constantly sparred with my Mom about my hair, clothes, cereal choice, sports, grades, chores, pets, bedtimes, curfews…pretty much anything that ever happened. I was not an easy child to raise I'm sure, and sometimes I feel very sorry about that. My parents laugh and say there will be payback when I have my own children and they talk back to me. I remember Pops in the Park every 4th of July and eating fried chicken, sitting on a big blanket in the middle of a field waiting for the fireworks show. I remember tons of activities—soccer, softball, ballet, jazz, gymnastics—I was never bored. My parents were smart, since they kept us busy during the day so we slept at night.
We had an original Nintendo, complete with the Duck Hunt gun and the Track Pad. I loved Nintendo, but not nearly as much as I loved being outside, the blades of grass sneaking between my toes while I chased lightening bugs. Summertime was always my favorite time of year. It still is, and sometimes when I sit outside early in the morning or early in the evening during a summer day, it smells like my childhood. I remember being a member of a pool every summer, and spending hours upon hours in the sun, more often than not reading a book—or 6 at once. When I was ten, I remember only one book from my summer reading, though I'm sure I read as many as I could. The book was The Hobbit, and I remember feeling particularly smart reading that book while the sun bleached my hair and darkened my skin to a rich tan. The public library in Hixson remains one of my favorite places of all time, and the smell that hit you the second you walked through the door still lingers in my mind.
I remember fighting with my brother like it was my full time job. Everything about Brent seemed cool, as if somehow he had a handbook I hadn't been issued yet. Pictures of us show two small children, part destined to be tiny because of genes and the other aspect being that we were so active. I sometimes acted annoyed with Brent, but secretly I wanted to be with him and his friends whenever I could be. He was my favorite person in the world.
I remember being 9 and eating whatever I wanted whenever I wanted. My parents had rules about sugar content in cereal and how much junk food was in the house, but I would pig out when I went to friends' houses. I could eat an entire packet of Ramen noodles, two mini pizzas, and a few popsicles for lunch. I loved popsicles, and ate them by the dozens during the summer. I also remember 6 years later, when at 15 I decided, quite pointedly, that I was too fat. Much too fat. At that point, puberty had well past hit and I was, perhaps, a few pounds too heavy. A few, max. Standing at 5'2", I weighed in at about 125 pounds. Ten pounds shed would have done me some good; fifteen pounds would have been acceptable. I lost 36. Age 15, 89 pounds, constantly dizzy, irritable and uncomfortable in most chairs. Friends cried over me in secret; I counted bones as victories. I had always been close to my friends growing up, and I genuinely enjoyed their company. At the age of 15, I learned how much friends love each other. There was no denying it, I was incredibly unhealthy. I wore big sweatshirts at home, partly because I was cold, mostly to hide the fact that I was dying from my parents. In front of my friends, I joked about everything, afraid to admit pain for fear that I would crack open and my emotions would spill out to the point that I wouldn't be able to fix it. I hated food; I craved food; I needed my disorders; the disorders were killing me. I saw true bravery in my young friends, who force-fed me, comforted me, scolded me, and loved me. I was at perhaps my most unlovable, but that didn't matter.
I joined the cross country team and started to "recover". I fooled even myself for a while, until I realized that I wasn't better at all. Suddenly knives, razors, scissors and glass became strangely interesting and incredibly appealing. I don't remember my first cutting experience. After a while, it became a painful ritual that only increased in number and depth over time. I developed thick scabs on my left arm and left leg. I only cut on the left side of my body and that never changed; I don't know why. I got up the courage to tell one of my best friends that I was a cutter; she sobbed so much that I quickly "recovered". I doubt people believed me. The summer after I graduated from high school, I got too drunk with two of my friends. In an instant, a simple hand off of a shot glass resulted in broken glass in front of me on the pavement. All of the hiding and lies left my mind; the glass was too enticing. I picked up the biggest shard and blindly swiped at my legs. My friends jumped up and told me to stop, unsure of what to do. I got angrier. The gin bottle was in front of me, and there were no thoughts in my mind as I brought it down to the pavement and it shattered. I have three wide scars on my legs from that gin bottle; most appear to fade with a tan, but one only gets redder. I hate the smell of gin, and the taste repulses me. My leg had to be stapled shut with 14 staples. The doctor assured me that the shot for the anesthia would hurt far less than the staples. He lied. He also put them in wrong, and the nurses apologized a week or so later as they had to twist them out of my flesh.
I was prescribed to Zoloft and I quit cutting after that, only occasionally making a single slice that could be easily and convincingly explained away as an accident. I went to college in the fall of 2004. I loved it, but my problem didn't go away. One day I got so angry that I pried off the protective wire of my razor and made several slices on my arm, which bled through my sweatshirt. In all honesty, they were nothing compared to most of the times. I was hospitilized for a week in a psychiatric lockdown facility for severe depression, suicidal tendencies, and homicidal thoughts. I admit only to the depression. The facility had good cobbler. I convinced them I was fine to return to school within a week. Discretely, I continued cutting until right before I turned 21. Sometimes, the desire is strong. I fight it.
January 2008: minor virus causes 8 pound weight loss. Oh shit. I couldn't help it. The bulimia came back first, then anorexia. I lived for an entire month and a half almost entirely on juice. By May I weigh 128. I started out at 160. I am much better; sometimes I still starve myself. Throwing up is always in the back of my mind. I want to weigh 120. I wonder if that will last.
I'm 22. Sometimes I wish I was 10 again. Life was so much sweeter.
One day, I want to have 4 kids—a boy, twin girls, then another boy. Brenden, Sydney Elise, Emma Soleil, and Chandler. I hope I don't prevent myself from being able to do that. I would love those kids; I will love those kids. I don't know why I picked the boys names. The girls names are stories of my heart. Sydney is after my best friend during the eating disorder days, and the one who cried when she learned of my cutting. She is strong, beautiful, smart, and sweet. I would want my daughter to be like her. Elise is after my roommate right now. I think Elise is probably one of the prettiest names in the world, and it is fitting of my friend. She is genuine, quirky, incredibly strong, insanely gorgeous, and hilarious. My firstborn daughter has quite the legacy to live up to; she will do that. Emma is after a person I will on the one hand always see as 14, and on the other hand always admire for her strength, maturity, and loyalty. She has juvenile diabetes and was diagnosed at the age of 11; she never complains. My second born daughter will adore her. Soleil means sunshine and I would want my daughter to be the sunshine of my life. I believe I will make a good mother one day. The pain that I have experienced will only help me to love better.
My friends have saved my life, quite literally and also metaphorically. I don't deserve them, but I am glad that I have been blessed to receive them. My family is incredible. At the age of 50, my mom looks 30. She has survived cervical cancer and a broken neck; she is my hero. My dad is what every little girl dreams of in a father; I want to marry someone who treats me as my father treats my mother and treats my children as he treats me. I am a daddy's girl. My brother is still my favorite person in the world. He is a Marine and just got back in the states on Monday. Today is Wednesday. I haven't seen him in almost a year. It was my first Christmas in 21 years without my big brother. I can't wait to see him.
I haven't slept in nearly 48 hours. I will try to sleep now, and I'm sure when I read this later I will think it a bit odd. Do not delete it. It is 6:44 AM.
2:07 PMI woke up today in probably the best mood I have been in for quite some time. I love waking up to text messages like "Wake up! I made muffins!", which Elise sent me this morning. I listened to some music and then came out bright-eyed and bushy-tailed after only 5 hours of sleep. I don't know if I had a dream or not, but I must have dreamed about friends and good times after writing about all of those memories. Sometimes, it's painful to look back on the bad times, but not nearly as hard as it used to be. Even now, at what is hopefully the tail end of a relapse, I am so much stronger than I used to be. I was such a child when I developed that first eating disorder at the age of 15, and in some ways I assume it hindered my normal growing up processes. But I have experiences that few people will ever get to have. Sure, I didn't really want to have them, but I have grown in so many ways from them. Take my too-short stay at Parkwood. When I think about it now, I normally just think about wanting to get out, completely blocking out the memories of the people I met there. Now, I can't remember the names of any of the people I met, which is a real shame. I do, however, remember them. I had two stand-in moms while I was there, both of whom became fiercely overprotective of me within 24 hours of my stay. I was devastated when one of them left, and I vowed to keep in touch, but once I was out a few days after she was, I forgot about it. I was such a stupid 18 year old. The other one was very sad when I left before she did, and I miss her too. I met people right around my age, who for once didn't make me feel crazy for my problems. My friends had never tried to, but when you truly don't understand something, it is easy to make somebody feel off despite your love. But at Parkwood, I was understood. Sometimes I wish I would have gone either before I was old enough to sign myself out, or afte r I had grown up a little bit. I needed to stay there for at least a month, but I was so hell-bent on getting back to being a typical "college kid". I have never been completely typical, and I never will be. That's a good thing, but difficult at times. I am an extreme personality, and that sometimes gets me into trouble. Of course, a lot of times it ensures that I will have really good friends and a lot of happy memories.
(July 7, 2008. 5:23 PM)
It is sad for me to think that I can no longer run home to Chattanooga and find my friends there to comfort and protect me. Leaving home for college was a learning experience, but realizing that Chattanooga isn't the "home" I knew for 18 years is hard. I will forever remember the wonderful times I had in Chattanooga as a child and teenager, and GPS will hold a special place in my heart for the rest of my life. I sincerely hope to move back to Chattanooga and have daughters who attend my Alma Mater, but that will not be my decision, just as it wasn't for my parents when I chose GPS. Raising a family in Chattanooga will not be the same as being raised there, but hopefully the differences will only serve to highlight the great moments and diminish the pain of the bad memories. It is nice to know that I can travel just about anywhere I want to these days and have a place to stay, whether it be Memphis or Chattanooga or San Fransisco. A piece of me will always live in the past, but a bigger part of me is eager to see what happens in my future.
Even the short time I've spent in Oxford has been full of ups and downs and scattered moments of intense happiness and grief-filled tears. I have now had 4 former roommates here, Jessica (for about a month haha), Melody, Kristin, and Elise, and each one has taught me so much. I was never close to Jessica, and Melody about killed me when she literally screwed me over and made me lose my Nanny's house in Abbeville. Kristin showed me to get the fuck over myself and to focus on the good things in life, and also to realize that I am not the only one with hard times in this world. Elise was such a fun roommate, and I have more memories of laughter and ridiculous plans and schemes than I could possibly write down. I miss living with her, but it is for the best. She is only one building over in Sterling though, so I hope I don't lose one of my dearest best friends just becasue we no longer occupy the same apartment. It is mostly my fault that we are not living together anyway, and I can't blame somebody for not understanding my ways of coping with things. She forgave me for my mistakes, and I forgave her for being quick to judge. That is quite enough for me. Living with Amber is already proving to be a wonderful decision, and it reminds me so much of living with Kristin. She doesn't put up with my shit, and I don't put up with hers, and that is what we both need. I do know, however, that she is always here for me, as I am for her. In a way that makes sense to almost nobody else, two crazy people living together works for us. DEAL WITH IT.
My friends in Oxford have shaped me so much too, and I miss people like Hill and Meredith every damn day, and there are so many moments throughout each day that reminds me why we will remain so close for a long time to come. Lauren is an angel, and though we might be having our differences right now, I am confident that we will be fine, and that I will miss her terribly when she moves back to Iowa.
Knowing that my problems are not the worst in the world, I am still aware that they affect me a great deal. Having a double eating disorder relapse followed mere months later by a cutting relapse made me question my sanity, strength, and even my ability to love and be a friend. What I realized is that I'm the right amount of crazy for my life, I am extremely strong and want to live, and that my love for others has only grown stronger and my friendships are so much more special to my heart. The cutting relapse was a one time thing, and though I have been tempted since, I have fought it. It didn't get me anywhere, which I should have learned long ago but failed to do so, and it hurt friends as well as myself in the process. The eating disorder relapses are a bit harder to shake, but I'm sincerely trying and have been doing much better. I have my days, but I don't have my weeks or months, and that's important. It is so much harder to live with out the anorexia and bulimia because those are what started it all, they symbolize my downward spiral into health issues, cutting, Parkwood, and disaster. While I know they bring me down, I also have a hard time knowing how to cope without them. I was 15 when I developed anorexia, 16 when bulimia hit, and part of my childhood got stolen in the process. As I seek desparately a way to make sense of an obsession with diseases that are killing me, I understand that I have every ability to beat them for good one day. It is me and only me that can truly do that, but the support of my friends is something I need to help get me there, little by little, day by day.
I spent what felt like almost an entire month crying only a couple of weeks ago, and I am happy to say that I am past that. Yes, I tear up and get upset, but I don't spend every day wondering when the shit will hit the fan and I will lose it completely. I have so much to live for and so much to give, and I do truly want to be there for others who are going through experiences far more trying than my own. I want everybody to know that, no matter what might be happening in my own life and how little you think I can handle, I am never too distraught to be there for my friends. Tragedy and sadness aren't scheduled happenings, but instead part of everyday life. Oftentimes, hard times for friends overlap and it important to grieve for your own pain but also help those dearest to you cope with theirs. I thought I had learned this, but I know now that you never stop learning these skills. I spent my life being sheltered in many respects, and it is only through truly trying times that a person can grow, and I try my best to remember that. Like I have said before, I had an amazingly happy childhood, and an adolescence filled with great happiness and incredible pain. What I have realized is that the root of that pain lies not with my parents, nor with my friends, but instead with myself. I'm not saying that others might not have played a part in my hard experiences, often exacerbating them to the point of near tragedy, but it is me that ultimately had to decide to hurtle into insanity. Now, I have to pick up the pieces myself.
When I was 15 and began my descent, I wanted to be perfect and tiny and a child forever. At 16, I weighed 89 pounds and wanted nothing more than death. At 17, I discovered knives, scissors, glass, and razors and left permanent scars-- they may fade, but the memories do not. At 18, I left for college and landed in the liberating but lonely world of a psychiatric facility. At 19, I fought desparately to keep a secret what I was screaming out on my arms and legs. At 20, I prayed for anorexia to return, but could only find solace in those sharp objects. At 21, I rediscovered old friends in anorexia and bulimia. And at 22, I am beginning to heal. Along every single one of those years, I caused pain in others and killed a piece of my own heart over and over again. The amount of tears I shed could fill a small lake. Despite everything, I am okay with where I am right now. Battered, bruised, scarred, in far worse health than any 22 year old should be, but I'm alive and happy to be so. Life will never make sense, but it is damn worth living.
Number Four--(June 21, 2008. 10:47 AM)
i miss my girls here so much. yes, they are literally still here, but i feel so distant from them that it is like they are gone. my heart is breaking, and i'm not sure how to fix it. should y'all read this, i love you so much, and i'm sorry. my life is forever changed by how i hurt you, and there are no true words to express my sorrow over that. despite everything, i'm still always here for you. when i think of "my girls", it will always be you.
money is a bitch, plain and simple. even thinking about how i'm going to pay my bills for the next year or so is horrible. i'm only 22, but i have the stress level of somebody twice my age. hopefully one day, i will have a good job and a family of my own, and my same, wonderful friends. i can only hope and pray. and, inevitably, cry a little.
my job is okay, just a little monotonous and stressful. but it's going to pay those bills and i have to hope that i can keep it and also get another one.
brent came to visit for a few days, and it was great. i'm going to proudly wear my pendant from iraq because it means so much to him, and to me. it is a unique gift, and i'm very proud of it.
my weight is always a struggle in my life, but i have enough people telling me i look amazing to feel okay about it right now. i just have to maintain it and try to be healthy. i want so badly to be really healthy one day, and to look good. i hope that i can do that; i really do.
my parents cut me off, which goes back to money. they told me 3 days before my last links rent was due, and if it hadn't been for my brother sending me some money, i would have been screwed. i remain very grateful for that.
i would have lost my sanity a long time ago had it not been for amber. everybody keep your fingers crossed that she can move in with me, or i'm not sure what i'm going to do. cry, go into major debt, lose my damn mind.
i'm sure there's more on my mind right now, but i can't even think straight anymore. more later. peace.
Number Five--(May 17, 2008. 10:31 PM)
i "graduated" from ole miss last saturday. technically speaking, i have about a semester's worth of classes before i actually get my diploma, but ole miss is weird like that. it felt weird to go through another graduation ceremony, and for some reason, so much LESS special than the graduation from GPS. they really went all out at that little old high school of mine. at ole miss, i was just ready to get it over with, and at the same time, i never want to leave. i am staying in oxford for another year, because i love this town and my people in it. i sincerely hope that lauren can stay, because breaking up the trio of me, lauren, and elise would be a crying shame, if you ask me. i love my girls.
2 days before graduation i got a DUI. who would have thought? i make it through 4 years of college and the entire year of being 21 and 5 DAYS after i turn 22 i get a damn DUI. and i blew a .09. the legal limit is .08. give a girl a damn break already. a few days ago the cop who arrested me was in a horrible car wreck and might either be paralyzed or have complete memory loss or both. strange.
in a little over a month, elise and i are moving from the links to sterling. i'm excited, because the links people are bitches, but it will be weird to move out of a place that i've called home for 2 years. my life is a mess of emotions. lauren better be able to stay next year.
lauren got a new puppy today, and we named him jack. he's a cutie--part lab, part shephard. i love him already.
brent gets back from iraq on monday or tuesday, but i won't be able to go pick him up with my parents. i could get off work, but because i have to pay so many court costs for this DUI, i can't afford to. that pisses me off more than anything, and i wonder if cops ever think they are ruining your life when they arrest you for stupid shit. probably not, especially in this town. i love just about everything about oxford, except the law enforcement people.
i feel like i'm leaving something out, but i'll let you know if i am. there's an update a little. fun life, eh?
Number Six--(April 25th, 2008. 12:28 PM)
as i sit here writing this blog, i am avoiding 3 papers i must write this weekend, a paper i promised to write for eric and which is due at midnight, and studying for a FOR SURE chaucer quiz at 1. i've hit that point when you have so much to do that it's overwhelming to even know how or where to start. i'm also out of adderall until later today or tomorrow, and the latte energy isn't quite the same. all i really want to do is finally have a day to get my hair cut and dyed, get a pedicure and a professional massage (even though elise's are great and very much appreciated!), and then steal my girls away and go to the beach again.
i am reminded daily of the wonderful qualities of my best friends, and that some things in life will never change. the comfort in that is wonderfully calming. everyday, no matter how much i might have on my plate, or how much sleep i've missed, or how little i'm able to eat, my girls remind me that there is always something sweet in life. it's simple things really--a back massage when i'm literally doubled over in pain from stress and work, making me airborne in juice (i love juice!) when my throat is scratchy, calling me to tell me that you love me and that you hope my stressful day goes by quickly, making me hot tea, visiting me at work, posting an old 9th grade website that i made on my facebook wall to make me laugh, calling randomly to say that it's been too long since we've seen each other and that needs to change (even if we know it can't), playing long distance scrabulous with me (while making fun of my short word choices) because we never get to talk anymore, visiting me for a party weekend...things that seem so little, so trivial, really keep me going. people might wonder why i adore my friends so much, and why they mean as much as they do to me, but it's really not hard to figure out. some people will go through life without ever really having even one best friend like i do, and i have several. i can't imagine living my life, functioning at all, without their support. sometimes i wish i was home in chattanooga and back in high school, in a time where everything was much simpler. a time when i could eat whatever i wanted because i was going to run 6 miles that day anyway, with my cross country team, or just with a few best friends. a time when i worked purely for gas money and entertainment (and gas was much cheaper!). a time before alcohol really, when fun wasn't made by being drunk but by being creative--don't get me wrong i love drinking and being legal! but i know that if i went back in time, knowing what i know now, that my heart would ache waiting for these ole miss experiences. i haven't lost anything in the friendships i made in high school by distance and time--those are still my chattanooga girls and they will forever hold a piece of my heart. i miss them terribly everyday. but not being best friends with elise and lauren? well forget about it. i'm not entirely sure how i ever functioned without them. i met the two funniest, sweetest, genuine, beautiful girls in oxford and have the opportunity to call them best friends. i'm not allowed to be sick, or sad, or scared--they simply won't have it. it's wonderful.
this semester i might have screwed myself a little bit in school, but i have the kind of memories people dream of making. i went to mardi gras with elise and edward and partied in margaritaville and on bourbon street, buying souvenirs like beads with a giant penis on it and a shot glass that looks like a tiny margarita glass. i went to destin for spring break and slept in late, drank pina coladas by the pool, stayed up too late and danced my heart out. i took elise and lauren to chattanooga, and realized again it's beauty and charm. i worked until 2 am on the weekends, then went and partied until 6 am. i stayed up late, and often all night, studying with elise, with plenty of smoke breaks, cleaning distractions, and movie watching. i drove over to lauren's to hang out, just because i could. i maintained my ability to get free drinks at the bar. i lost about 30 pounds and began to remember what it felt like to be the weight i was meant to be, and therefore became more laid-back and relaxed about wearing the clothes that i want to wear. i counted up the cost of the liquor bottles displayed in my apartment alone and realized it added up to nearly $3000. to some, that might seem like a waste, but i can look up there and think of a million laughs, mistakes, tears, hugs, and heart-to-hearts fueled by said booze. i had a huge party at my apartment, complete with hunch punch, jello shots, and my princess tiara, and managed a random hookup.
i know that real life is coming. i wish it wouldn't. it won't shock me as it might shock some; i have just adored collge life. i knew i would enjoy ole miss when i decided with enough confidence to not apply anywhere else that i wanted to go here. i had no idea i would fall in love with the school and the town. there are few places in the world prettier than the grove in the spring. you will be hard pressed to find more southern belles and gentlemen in any other town. down-home cooking is second nature around here, and i never tire of places like ajax and old venice. the bars might close early, but there are always places to party until sunrise if you want to. walking around campus in the spring, i just can't bring myself to leave this place--not yet. flowers blooming and trees at their greenest just make me smile, especially when i walk beside my best friends, laughing at something random, stupid, and wonderful.
i'm sitting here, content with my wasted study time, almost in tears at the gratitude i feel in my heart at ever being allowed to go the places i've gone and meet the people i've met. i will never really be alone, because somebody is always checking on me or inviting me somewhere. i will never stay sad, because i've always got a shoulder to cry on and a quick joke to make me smile. i will never be mad for long, because my friends won't have it. i will stay happy and content throughout my life, even though it might be distant and fading at times, because i will always remember this time in my life--when i called oxford home and lived with and really close to my best friends (with my others only a phone call away). if life is this wonderful when i'm but 9 days from turning 22, despite stress and anxiety and stress that is bound to happen, i can't wait to see what else is in store.
Number Seven--(April 18th, 2008. 5:36 PM)
Later, when Elise and I came home, we watched "Silence of the Lambs" and my back started to hurt. I sat on a heating pad, and decided to rest and then get the outline done today, unaware that I would be sidetracked by back pain until after 2 pm. So yes, maybe I should have done the homework first, but I'm sure I would have had to miss class anyway because of the pain. Perhaps days and nights and moments ingrained in time and memories preserved happen for a reason. Maybe I am just deluding myself, but I truly adored yesterday, and I felt loved and accepted the way that everybody always wants to feel. It is on days like April 17, 2008 that you realize that life is for the living, home really is where the heart is, and no sadness or pain in the world is competition for the love of friends. Though I spent today in crazy pain and discomfort, I choose to dwell on the days in my life that I can look back and admire for years to come, simply because they happened.
Number Eight--(April 4th, 2008. 1:08 PM)
first, my cousin charlie, who turns one in a couple of weeks, has to get a feeding tube inserted this coming wednesday, april 9th. because of several medical causes (one of which being reflux, and this is the only one i know for sure), he is not gaining enough weight, and has only gained an ounce in the past 3 weeks. to make sure that he grows while they try to figure out this mystery, my aunt and uncle have made the decision to go ahead with the feeding tube. they are both doctors, with my aunt specializing in pediatrics and my uncle in internal medicine, so i rest assured that this is the best thing for charlie. i’m asking everybody to keep him in your prayers, or if you aren’t particularly religious, just think of him and his health.
on a much happier note, this weekend is going to be a blast! kristin is coming into town today, and i fully expect to have a good time. it’s pretty much a given. tomorrow night is the big party that elise and i are throwing at our apartment. bonnie’s coming into town too, and i’m just really excited about it! i will be sure to put up pictures from the event, so everybody look forward to that haha. at any rate, graduation is fast approaching, so i will post a blog soon about my actual life.
Number Nine--(March 3, 2008. 4:17 PM)
Number Ten--(February 25th, 2008. 4:17 PM)
Number Eleven--(February 22nd, 2008. 11:34 PM)
Current mood:thoughtfullife is utterly confusing to me sometimes. i'm on the verge of being a college graduate, and i have no idea where life is taking me. i guess thats pretty typical, but it terrifies the hell out of me. it seems odd to me that, as i'm the most mature i've ever been on my life and almost completely self-sufficient, i'm really not that much different than i was when i was 15. it saddens me more than anything, because i really want to believe that i've grown up. i guess if you suppress your feelings, treat yourself to health only for the benefit of others, and never really deal with what caused things in the beginning, reoccurrences are bound to happen. but why now? i'm trying so hard, and i want everybody to know that. i haven't ever dealt with some deep-seated issues, and i guess i'm paying for that now. i'm optimistic, however, and you should be too. if nothing else, i know that i am very strong. the support and love of my friends is also wonderful in my recovery process, and i'm completely blessed to have them in my life. in the end, this will be for me, and one day i'll look back and think about how much of a better person i am for living through what i have. other than that, work blows (because i do it so much and never get a break) and school is kind of boring. plus, my back issues are getting 10 times worse, and i think i'm getting an MRI over spring break to see if any type of surgery or therapy might help it. plus, we are checking on why my vision is sometimes blurry and i get headaches from eye strain a lot. so, i might need a second eye surgery too, and we're trying to get all of this done before i'm kicked off my parent's insurance. life's a bitch, ain't it? haha. for the most part, i am happy though. my family is great, my friends are precious, my kitten is adorable, my apartment is incredible, and my roommate is the best. could i ask for more? i think not.
Okay, that's enough for now. I'm going to put the rest in a later post, with some of those old pictures that go along with them....and then--GOODBYE MYSPACE! I'm glad I'm posting these, because reading them again is interesting.