Friday, February 29, 2008

Making everyone's day

I went to the grocery after work yesterday. It was my grandma's birthday and I had the grand vision of baking her a gorgeous cake to celebrate the occasion, but lacking a few key ingredients.

As I finished up at the U-Scan station and went to pick up my bags, the attendant walked up to me. "Excuse me," she said. I immediately had the suspicion that she was about to accuse me of stealing something. I looked up in alarm.

"I don't mean to be rude," she said. She gestured towards the red dress I was wearing. Now I look down in a panic, certain that my dress was tucked into my stockings. "You made an old man's day. He came in her on his motorized wheelchair and he was staring at your legs as he was driving by. You made that old man's day, and I just thought I'd tell you."

I laughed and I thanked her, telling her that the story made my day.

Who doesn't love a creepy old man?

* * *

I took today off of work. The reason was more practical than frivolous - I had a doctor's appointment in the middle of the day on the other side of town - but I managed to fit in a little bit of fun.

I skated two sessions at the rink I skated at on Friday mornings for three years - up until I got my promotion. Truth be told, I really needed to skate. I'm competing in just over a week and my program just isn't ready.

Anyway. I'm getting onto the ice and a mom of one of the younger skaters comes up to me and says, "I don't know how you do it! You look like you've lost weight."

I thanked her and promised that it was an optical illusion. "Maybe it is because I'm cold," I laughed. "Don't things shrink when they're cold?"

"I've heard of one thing that shrinks in the cold," she responded, "but I think that's just a myth."

Wednesday, February 27, 2008

It is going to be a long day

My Wednesday started out at 4:30 this morning, when Blue startled me out of a very deep sleep by jumping off of the bed and barking maniacally at either a rodent, a figment of her imagination, or a rapist/murderer looking for blood. My heart was pounding; it took quite some time to fall asleep.

It is Wednesday, so I have class immediately after work. My Wednesday class is the one I hate above all others. It is boring and mechanical and does not involve the type of thinking and reasoning that I am good at. Class will be three hours of pain, as it is every week, followed by one week of anxiety. I have an exam next week.

Much to my chagrin, I also have a hockey game tonight. Hockey has not gone entirely smoothly this season. I am not playing as well as I am capable of and it is immensely frustrating. My guess is it is because I am stretched so thin and, really, hockey is closer to the bottom of my priorities. It is hard to really psych myself up for my games when I am stressed/obsessed/occupied/consumed by every other facet of my totally insane, yet equally benign, life.

Work until 5:00 pm. Class from 5:30-8:30 pm. Hockey game 9:50-10:50 pm. I couldn’t possibly leave Blue in the house from 8:00 am – 11:00 pm, so I brought her over to Grandma and Grandpa’s house for the day. When I cleared the puppysitting arrangements with Grandma over the phone yesterday, she was horrified by my schedule. At her house this morning, she fixed my case of chronic busyness the best way she knew how: with food.

I am now the proud owner of the care package containing the following:
1. A bowl of chili
2. Applesauce
3. Pineapple
4. One batch of cookies
5. A bowl of macaroni and cheese (homemade, obvs.)
6. Broccoli, raw
7. A large chunk of watermelon

I’d packed myself a pretty meager lunch, so that worked out well for me. Life is better when you’re not starving.

Tuesday, February 26, 2008

6:45 this morning...

...looked a hell of a lot like this.

While I wasn't crazy about the weather, the same could not be said for Blue.

Something about the snow makes her wild. I put my coat over my pajamas and shoveled snow while looking like the village idiot. She jumped and spun and sprinted and rolled and acted like the village idiot.

We make a nice pair.

Monday, February 25, 2008

Left behind

Meg is in Los Angeles with her two best friends.
Mom and Dad are in Palm Springs.
Lucy is still in Israel.

I am spending the week at the homestead, watching Blue. And working. And going to class.

Tonight, I didn't bother with going to the gym. Dismissed plans of doing homework. I'm going to eat apple pie in bed an watch A Raisin in the Sun.

Who needs California?

Sunday, February 24, 2008

So obvious it hurts

Spent my weekend watching four hockey games.

How will I cap it off?

By playing in one.


Saturday, February 23, 2008


I scammed out of work an hour early yesterday and I skipped class today. I am spending my weekend in a bustling Ohio metropolis watching my sister and her hockey team play in their league tournament.

My cousin Liz came down to join me in fandom.

We are having a bitching good time. Watched Meg's game last night (she scored two goals!), went to dinner with Meggie and her teammates. Classed it up at Wal-Mart, buying poster board and glitter. Created hilarious signs. Went to bed too late and got up too early, to watch Meg's game this morning (no goals, but a couple of assists!). We ate a good breakfast and got the bright idea to get massages. Meg and one of her teammates came along and got pedicures. We'll see her game tonight.

Not really doing much of anything, having a great time doing it.

Thursday, February 21, 2008

Graduate grumblings

Something crazy is happening.

Meg isn’t getting exactly what she wants, exactly when she wants it.

My sister is phenomenally lucky and talented and bordering on perfect. She’s that kid who graduated at the top of her class and was a star athlete in multiple sports (pretty much any one she tried her hand at, in fact) and had a great personality and a ton of friends. She excels at everything that she tries – from knitting to sharpening skates to crazy-intense science stuff that I can neither pronounce nor spell. She is very driven and very smart. If I weren’t so proud of her, I would probably hate her.

Meg graduates in April. For the past few months, she has been busy taking the GRE and filling out applications to PT school. She’s wanted to be a physical therapist for some time (even though my mom insists that she would thrive in medical school), so I think that she’s been kind of excited about the prospect of starting the next phase of her education.

The applications to physical therapy school seem to heavily favor potential students who have been out of school for a while. It seems that they’re really looking for someone who has worked, not just volunteered, in the field. Maybe they get a lot of students who enroll and then realize that physical therapy isn’t their thing? I’m not sure. But, whatever the reason, the deck has not been stacked in Meggie’s favor.

And, in this isolated incident, Meg is finding that not everything works out the first time.

She got denied at one school, deferred at another and is waiting to hear back from two or three more. Meg was pretty upset when she didn’t even land an interview before being denied at the one school (the same university I’m in grad school at) – the reason she didn’t get an interview is that, to be considered, because you have to have had a B or higher in all of your core classes…and she got a B- in one.

I feel awful for her. It has always been a bit of a solace that, even though I’m a loser, my sister had everything going for her.

So she might not get into graduate school. And she might have to work a year and reapply. It isn’t a fatal setback. But I sure wish I could fix this for her.

Tuesday, February 19, 2008

I'm a "sneezing" idiot

I rear-ended someone today.

I was on my way home from work. I must not have been paying much attention. We were stopped at a light. The lane next to me must have started going. So I rolled forward. And into the car ahead of me.

I knew, immediately, that there was no damage.

But I get out of my car to profusely apologize to the man that I hit. He is a little Asian man who immediately starts lecturing me on how the traffic hadn't started moving yet.

Oh, really? That's why I hit you?


So I lie to him and told him that I sneezed. It got him off of my back.

We decide that there is no damage to his car. There definitely wasn't any to mine. Determining damage to his car was a bit more difficult, seeing as how his was a complete POS. The bumper? Rusty. Already falling off. And I saw enough of the inside of his car to see that it was primarily held together by tape. But he wants my phone number "just in case" (just in case what? Seriously.) so I write it down for him. And then he has to walk around to the back of my car so he can write down my license plate number. But his pen won't work and now mine is mostly frozen so I do my best to scrawl it down. I'm sure that he can't read it.

I hope I don't hear from him. I hope that he's honest and doesn't try to blame me for injuring a car that is already far beyond repair. Seriously. It probably isn't valued at $500.

After leaving the scene without a police report/call I don't really think there's anything he can do to me. But I'll remain a little paranoid for a month or so. Because that is how I am.

The best part of the story is that, of course, it is so bloody cold out and I decided to wear a dress today and I got to stand on the road, in my dress and my knee-high boots for a good five minutes.

Wait. It gets better.

It was on 8 Mile Road.

Yes, the same one that Eminem's movie was named after. The same road that divides Detroit from the suburbs. The one known for segregating the races. And for all of the filthy strip clubs that line the cooridor.

And there I was, all in my dress and my knee high boots.

I need to start paying more attention when I drive.

Monday, February 18, 2008

Eating with Alyson

According to my mother, when I was a toddler I would get crazy into a food. Whatever this food was, I would eat it every day for six months and, at six months and one day, I would turn my nose up at it and refuse to eat it ever again.

Not much has changed. I go through stages when a particular food is the sun and moon. And, after six months or so, it completely loses its appeal.

Over saturation at its finest!

This is what I am currently binging on:

1. Hard boiled eggs. Sprinkled with a bit of salt and pepper, I love these after the 6:30 am yoga class I take on Thursdays (and the occasional Tuesday). And they get me a bit of protein, which I can always use more of in my diet.

2. Wheat pasta. I really see no need to ever go back to regular pasta. The wheat tastes just as good, if not better. When I am really lazy or have nothing else in the house, I'll cook up wheat pasta to have for lunch at work. With nothing on it. Not even butter.

3. Del Monte Fruit Naturals Red Grapefruit cups. Grapefruit is something that I have loved, consistently, for my entire life. I cannot get sick of it because it is way too much work for me to thoroughly binge on it. And it travels so poorly! These fancy little grapefruit cups, which I have my mom pick up for me at Costco, are perfect to pack up for work.

4. Frozen mango. Like grapefruit, fresh mango requires a little too much elbow grease to be part of my daily routine. I pick up frozen mango from Trader Joe's, dump a bit into a bowl and let it defrost in the refrigerator overnight. If I'm not having grapefruit with my lunch, it is likely that I'm having mangoes.

5. Mrs. May's Cashew and Almond Crunch. HEAVEN. Salty and sweet and really convenient, I am completely obsessed with these natural, healthy nut snacks. And they inject a little more protein into my diet. Cannot go wrong.

6. ThinAddictives cookies. I eat the Pistachio Almond Thins and absolutely love them. Not too sweet, just three to a pack, they're perfect with a cup of tea around 4:00 pm. Mom gets these for me at Costco, too.

7. Mrs. May's Trio Bars. Not quite a granola bar, these are nuts, seeds and a bit of dried fruit magically glued together for a snack that keeps my hunger at bay.

This list must make you all think that I'm on some secret diet that I'm keeping from you. Honestly, I'm not. I have always been lucky enough to mostly prefer healthy food to junk. I eat plenty. I eat often. And I eat what I like. And I don't often feel like I'm denying myself. I cannot complain.

Sunday, February 17, 2008

Wild weekend warrior

I'm looking forward to a relatively laid-back week. No assignments due. No enormous work stresses (that I know about as this moment, anyway). I won't be out crazy late because of soccer (no games this week!). And I'm going to skip my Saturday class and spend the weekend is luxurious Ohio, watching my sister's hockey tournament.

Then I'm spending all of next week at Mom and Dad's house, watching Blue while they head to southern California for a little R&R. Charmingly enough, Meg will also be on vacation. Poor, pitiful me. Must work and go to school. (My spring break isn't the same week as Mom and Meggie's.) I'll spend a little time with Colleen - who is in 500 depressions because Lucy is visiting Chet's family for the next two weeks - do a little schoolwork, eat Mom and Dad's food, sleep in by a massive 15 minutes each day. I don't have a soccer game next Friday, either, so it should be a pretty quiet weekend.

And will be March. Which is absolutely insane.

Raise your hand if you're impressed by my wild lifestyle!

Saturday, February 16, 2008

A little consistency, please

On Thursday, on the one day of the year that I shouldn't, I was fine with being single. I went to dinner with three friends, none of whom knew each other, and had a ridiculous amount of fun. We gelled well, immediately vaulting past the awkward stage. It was fun. I didn't need a boyfriend.

I mentioned to Nate, my favorite soccer teammate ever, that I needed a boyfriend. He is all over this project. And it sounds fun, giving myself up to the uncertain. My confidence in Nate is liberating. I don't need a boyfriend.

The sun is shining and my skin has an unusual, satisfying glow to it. I don't need a boyfriend.

Colin didn't come to soccer again last night. I played with his coworkers. I wonder if he has told them awful things about me. I wonder if they've noticed that he seems sad. I am curious, but I do not dwell. I might be moving on.

Generally, he is the first thought of every day.
I've visited his MySpace page at least three times in the last 24 hours.
I keep formulating the phone call that I want to make. It would be a message. He won't answer.
I remind myself not to drive by his house.
I hope that he comes to our soccer games, even if his presence hurts.

I want to see him.
And I desperately want to not want to see him.

This middle stage - where I walk between only wanting him back and truly never wanting to see him again - is miserable.

I want one feeling and I want to stick with it.

Thursday, February 14, 2008


I take back all of the bad shit I said about my gym. The nice young gentleman working the front desk found my watch and my rings in thirty seconds. I considered making out with him right there. Instead, I decided just to tell him that he'd just made my Valentine's Day.

Other things that are making my Valentine's Day:
1. The boy who opened the door for me at the gym this morning. He was cute. He opened the door for me. We are getting married on March 1st.

2. I am going out with three of my absolutely favorite single girls in the world: my work BFF, my soccer BFF and my Colleen. We're having dinner/drinks and then we're going to see 27 Dresses.

3. The dish I brought to pass for our Valentine's Day lunch: caprese salad. Tomatoes! (Red!) Mozzarella! (White!) Deliciousness! [I loved all of your ideas, by the way, and will definitely use most/all at another time. My mind was pretty much made up for me when my mom came home from Costco and gave me frezh mozzarella and cherry tomatoes].

4. The mocha I bought at McDonald's on my way here. Am not in love (is ever so slightly bitter) but it is still a treat.

5. My yoga class was fantastic this morning. And I had enough time to run a quick mile and a half before class started.

Happy, happy V-Day, children. Behave yourselves. Smooch your loved ones. Eat a lot of candy. XOXOX

Wednesday, February 13, 2008

This could be devastating.

I wear the same two rings every day: my XO ring that reminds me of my grandma and my class ring.

When I go to the gym or have to wash my hands or put on lotion or something, I slide both rings onto the band of my watch, clasp the band and throw the whole thing into my purse. It makes them easy to find.

Or, in this case, easy to lose in one fell swoop.

Oh, how I hope that I'm wrong.

But I haven't seen my ring and my watch since yesterday in the afternoon. I went to work right after the gym. After I left the gym, I spent an hour and a half (!) driving home in a blizzard and another 45 minutes or so shoveling my driveway.

My rings and my watch are gone. Not in my purse. Not in the pocket of the coat that I wore. Not in my car. Neither the pants not the sweater that I wore to work yesterday had pockets. They aren't in the toe of the shoes I wore to work or the gym shoes I ran in. I've thoroughly shaken out the gym clothes I wore, dug through my hamper, rummaged through my makeup bag (which I didn't even have with me), dumped out my gym bag.

If I lost my rings at the gym, I think they'll get turned in. I'm afraid that I somehow dropped them in the snow while I was shoveling yesterday. If I did that, there is absolutely no way I'm seeing either of those again.

I just got off of the phone with the gym. I'll have to go in to have them check the vault.

I pay nearly $70/month and you can't do that shit over the phone?


I am absolutely sick. Those rings mean a lot to me. Yes, I suppose that both could be replaced. But it wouldn't be the same.

Tuesday, February 12, 2008

Car Etiquette

My boss let me drive his car today.

I hope that didn't sound like a big deal because it wasn't. I grew up in a car family. I've driven practically every product Ford has ever produced. The GMC Acadia is nothing special.

Anyway. I drove his car because, to finish a torturous project that I did by myself and did not ask anyone else to help me with, I had to drop a big load o' crap off somewhere else in town. It wouldn't all fit in my car. And that is how I ended up driving the Acadia.

I drive his car. Unload the crap. Drive back. Pull into parking lot. And, as I am doing so, a big box of his junk tips over in the back seat. I pull into his parking space, get out, replace all of the contents of the box and go inside.

A few hours later, my boss goes to lunch.

Three minutes after he left the office, I receive a call from him.

"I was just calling to tell you about car etiquette," he says. He had turned on his pompous ass voice.

I knew, immediately, what he was calling to bitch about. "I didn't move the seat back for you and you want to yell at me about it."

"I don't want to yell at you about it," he said. "I want to teach you about car etiquette. When you drive someone else's car, you must return the car exactly how it was give tot you. The seat was moved up and the radio was on a different station."

"I apologize," I said. In the moment, I actually handled his idiocy quite well. "Thank you for that lesson. The next time that I drive your car, I will be sure to..."

"Well, you won't drive my car again."

"Oookay. Well, I'll just keep lesson in mind."


"Have a great lunch. I'll see you when you get back."

The more I think about this incident, the more steamed I get. Fuck, dude, do you have to be so damn irritable about such a minute incident? Do you not realize that I do not have the ability to read your mind? I know that everyone has his or her pet peeves, but really. Seriously. Pick your fucking battles.

And keep in mind this little tidbit: if you were as big of a shooter as you think you are, your car would have memory seats.

Stella did.

Monday, February 11, 2008

It is too cold for anything but a list

So I guess it is cold all over the country. But I maintain that it is coldest here in Oakland County, Michigan. My reasoning is purely selfish: I like to complain. And complaining is a smidge better when I have a valid reason to do so.

I'm pretty sure that any residual water that I had left in my ear from this morning's shower froze while I walked the 10 feet from the parking lot into the office this morning, because during that brief period I went from no headache to bitchin' headache. It is the only logical explanation.

I have a soccer game at 10:00 tonight. Too late.
I've mostly been sitting around for the last three hours, waiting to leave for my game.
I need to go in 20 minutes and I'm just realizing that I haven't done shit with my night.
I did call my parents to say hello.
And two loads of laundry.
In one load, I washed a creme sweater with a black one. Stupid idea.
I'm sending my sister a Valentine.
I worked a half-hour late today.
Lucy leaves for Israel tomorrow.
I've decided to stop taking birth control.
I need to paint my gnarly toenails.
I also need to start drinking more water.
I'm going to wear red socks in my game tonight, even though our jerseys are green.
Over the past few days, I've fostered (yet resisted) a strong urge to call Colin.
The frequency with which I have been told that I have a hot ass lately is quite alarming. I swear it looks the same as it always does.
It really is crazy fucking cold here. I am not being a drama queen.

Saturday, February 09, 2008

For no apparent reason

I am in a fantastic mood today.

I don't get it! I have been overly stressed and overwhelmed lately; it is really nice to see the sun through all of these clouds.

It was my day to bring a snack to class. I made bran and blueberry muffins. YUM. We had a guest speaker and he was, like, alarmingly hot. YUM.

I'm playing the role of Best Sister Ever and going to my sister's hockey game this afternoon. Then I'm rushing back home to change my clothes and grab my overnight bag - The Girls and I are celebrating Colleen's birthday with dinner in the D and a little sleepover. Lucy and I bought Colleen a new Coach handbag that will make her pee with joy. I'm super excited to give it to her.

After our soccer game last night, my teammates and I went to the nearest bar for a few hours. I cannot possibly describe how much fun we had. It was so low key - we practically did nothing but eat pizza - but it was just what I needed. That team is filled with a lot of genuinely good people and spending time with them means a lot to me. I have a fantastic relationship with the boy who runs the team with me. It reminds me exactly of the relationship I had with my best guy friend/love interest from high school. Flirtatious and silly and fun. He's married.

Colin, by the way, didn't show up to our game. I get the feeling that he won't be making any more appearances. I feel somewhat relieved (playing with him was really hard for me) and a little bit guilty. I hadn't intended to be so standoffish and paralyzed by my anger when we last played together. I think that he got the hint. I'm not sure that I wanted him to.

Whatever. I'm not dwelling on that today. I'm in a good mood. I intend to keep it.

Thursday, February 07, 2008

Don't read on a full stomach

Seriously, I don’t know why I don’t take yoga every morning (other than the fact that my gym only offers it on Tuesday and Thursday mornings). After yoga class, I am peppy and happy and my shoulders are not all knotted up around my ears and my hamstrings don’t ache and I am generally Gumby.

I need to start taking yoga on Tuesday mornings, too. It is just hard to convince myself to get up at 5:30 am after a 10 pm soccer game, when I have a long Wednesday staring me right in the baby blues.

On the days that I’m not doing yoga or skating or playing soccer or hockey, I need to start running hard and consistently. Lucy is on this kick to run a marathon sometime this year and she’s pushing me to join her.

She’s registered to run in a half-marathon over Memorial Day weekend. It is tempting. I am weak to the siren song of a new athletic endeavor. Especially one that would include my very best friend. Lucy isn’t an athlete and has never been an athlete, and I like the idea of opening that world to her. Not that she wouldn’t do it on her own (she is signed up and committed, although I am a little nervous about how she is – or isn’t – training), but maybe the arrogant side of me thinks that her likelihood of success may be somewhat higher if I am involved.

Did I just type all that?

Holy shit. I’m cocky. When the fuck did that happen?

Wednesday, February 06, 2008

Calling all foodies

I have been drafted for the Social Committee at work. This is sort of hilarious, because I’m really not a social person. But I am nice and pleasant at work, which is why they made the mistake of thinking that I like other people.

We’re putting together a Valentine’s Day potluck for next Thursday. [side note: I cannot believe that Valentine’s Day is next Thursday! I am obviously a single girl.] We’re going with a red theme, because the Social Committee Queen Bee likes themes.

Immediately, I called shotgun on red velvet cupcakes with cream cheese frosting.

Four minutes later, a coworker came by and enthusiastically proclaimed that she would be making a chocolate red velvet cake. [Snotty aside: who the fuck calls it chocolate red velvet?] And I graciously conceded. I will make something else. Preferably something delicious that will blow the coworkers dry red velvet cake with store-bought frosting right out of the water.

It could be a lunch food. It could be a dessert. It just needs to be good.


Tuesday, February 05, 2008

Answering Machine

The Matt Nathanson concert was amazing. And I was home by 10:30. I'll have a decent night of sleep before my exam! Exceptional.

I would like to think that I am gradually moving on from Colin, but nights like tonight have me questioning that rationale.

I met a new one and she looks just like you
She gives me everything that you didn't want to
And maybe I don't need saving after all
She sticks in my ribs almost better than you did
And maybe I'm tired or maybe she glows

Every song - love, hate or otherwise - was about Colin and me.

I wonder if you're still defending
I wonder if you're still defending

Met someone with your eyes and skin
I can convince her of everything
And baby, it's so delicious you should
Come here and see for yourself
"I'm gone", you said, "if this is all there is?
You'll never shine alone

And I wonder if you're still defending
I wonder if you're still defending

You've been so wrong
For so long now

(I can fall alone if all
if I can fall away)

I've kissed others lips
And they promised me healing
It's easy if you try

I used to marvel at how Colin consumed my thoughts.

Now it is nothing more than a burden.

Monday, February 04, 2008

When good roommates go bad

I just got home. After work, I trudged to the library and spent 3+ hours cramming for my final exam. The good news is that I feel much more confident about the exam.

The bad news is that I want to kill my cousin/roommate a little bit.

Here's what not to do when your cousin/roommate has spent the entire day working and studying and you have had the entire day off of work:
1. Not do dishes.
2. Not bring the garbage to the curb.
3. Call your roommate/cousin to see what she is doing because you're home and probably a little bored while she is a LOT bored at the library.

Honestly? It isn't that bad. I do the bulk of the housework around here but, whatever. I'm a picky old lady. And I'm sure I do plenty to annoy her.

Mostly, I think, involving me not being home.

I'm pretty sure that, when we moved in together, Anna had this vision of college revisited. We would run around and giggle and celebrate our lives. But, really, Anna gets up after I go to work and I'm asleep when she gets home. Maybe I'll see her for a few hours on Saturdays, after I go to class and before she goes into work (she works every-other weekend) but that is about that. We haven't gone out on the town. We haven't had a gigglefest or a movie marathon. I don't see her much. I think it bugs her. But what can I do?

Besides quit school. Don't suggest it. Because I would be very tempted to take your advice.

Sunday, February 03, 2008

Wearing the uniform of the nerd

The rink I skate at is quite close to my Aunt Annette’s house. The proximity of her house to the rink works out quite well when we have family parties on Sunday afternoons; I tool around for a few hours and then make my way over to the family party and gorge on whatever culinary delights my dad’s family is feasting on (note: when I say “culinary delights” I really mean chips and dip, ‘cause that is how Dad’s family rolls).

Today, instead of wandering around Ikea or Target, I’m at Beaner’s Coffee, “studying.” I should be studying, anyway. I’m just not feeling it at the moment. So instead I’m blogging and drinking this mocha/caramel concoction that isn’t all that delicious, cost way too much and will probably end up upsetting my tender stomach.

As I was pulling into the coffee shop, out of the corner of my eye I catch a glimpse of heaven. A new soccer store, that is, with a banner proclaiming that it is grand opening weekend. Within two minutes, I’m calling Meg and suggesting that we go on an adventure. Don’t go straight to Aunt Annette’s. Turn left, not right. Call me when you do so. We’re going to the soccer store, baby girl!

Meg was all over my suggestion. “It’s perfect,” she proclaimed. “I am wearing my David Beckham jersey.”

“It is perfect,” I agreed. “I am wearing my Netherlands jersey.”

We are the biggest soccer nerds EVER.

I cannot wait for South Africa 2010.

Saturday, February 02, 2008

I don't really know who I am right now

I have an exam on Wednesday. I feel overwhelmed. The feeling is puzzling; I cannot recall this sense of dread over an impending exam. Is it because I'm paying for my schooling this time around? It is because school is no longer my sole responsibility?

Maybe I'm just losing my shit.

It sure feels like it. I've started crying for no reason a half-dozen times today. All I want to do is be at Mom and Dad's house. There is nothing that I want to do. I just want to be there.

Escapism at its finest, eh?

I don't know what my problem is. I wish that I could pinpoint it to one event - Colin or school or not enough sleep or whatever - and I wish that I knew how to cope with it. And I wish that there was a symptom or a sign, so that I knew I had reached the point where I needed outside help.
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