- Joey: Alright, Rache, the big question is, does he like you? Right, because if he doesn't like you, this is all a moo point.
- Rachel: Huh... A moo point?
- Joey: Yeah! It's like a cow's opinion. It just... doesn't matter. It's moo.
May 2012
304 posts
do you ever just want to punch yourself in the face?
Plus, how the hell is oversleeping a good excuse?
It’s not.
I have to write an email saying that I’m not enough of an adult to get up on time. I know shit happens but this shit keeps happening and I’m a dumbass for repeatedly thinking it won’t happen again.
I really hate emailing superiors. :|
Don’t mind me. I’m just derailing my education by missing classes because I’m incapable of heeding an alarm.
Fucking stupid. I am fucking stupid.
when ur sad always remember that u don’t look like you did in 6th grade
I did the chocolate milk thing.
#YOLO
I have about half a gallon of milk left and it expires on the 1st.
I briefly contemplated just pouring a shit ton of chocolate syrup in there and drinking straight from the jug. But then I realized I couldn’t use it for anything else if I did that.
Fuckin’ foresight up in this bitch.
That’s not a good thing, is it. Huh.
Collegehumor All Nighter? I think yes.
I feel as if this always happens the week after I visit Seattle. It’s like I spend the whole weekend on a social high, and then immediately afterward I am cut off and suffer through withdrawal. And usually it takes a couple of days and I sort of level off and return to my usual shitty anti-shenanigans. It’s not… great, but it’s not the worst, either.
I suppose I’m particularly off-balance this time around, because last weekend was astonishingly excellent. And this was easily because I got to spend a huge portion of time getting to interact and work together with some really cool people (one of them being my best friend.) I love that I got to have that experience, but it makes life here fall flat.
I’m frustrated because I feel like the relationships that I’ve been slowly cultivating up north are constantly being put on hold—I have these limited, concentrated interactions with people who I really want to know better and see more often, but then I have to come back here and not so much as speak to them for months at a time. This warps the way I view those relationships, and I end up making them into a bigger deal than they need to be. This, coupled with the fact that I don’t have relationships of any kind with anyone here, has left me suffering through horribly intense loneliness.
It’s like nausea the way it hangs around. Sometimes it seems like I can escape it for a little bit, but then it comes back to weigh on me again like I’ve swallowed a stone. Every part of me is heavy, and slowly being dragged downward. It’s as if someone turned up the gravity. Every reminder of the fun I was having just a few days ago is now a twist of the invisible hand tightly gripping my stomach, and it refuses to let go. I honestly almost feel ill. And I just… I can’t move beyond it. There’s a constant dull, aching tightness in the back of my throat and no matter what I do, I can’t make it go away. I feel like things will never be good again.
If I’m being honest, I wasn’t in great shape before I left, either. My apartment is in shambles. I desperately need to do dishes (and have been rewashing the same ones over and over again when necessary.) I’ve been sleeping on the floor for weeks now. My diet has been absolutely awful because I can’t bring myself to put in any effort, and I don’t remember the last time I consciously decided to work out. Before, though, I had the promise of a weekend in Seattle to hold me over. Now, I know I’m nearing the end of my stint in Vancouver, but the draw is not the same. Some of these tentative connections that I have established are going to be cut off. Summer means that these people, who are students, will be leaving. I’m frightened of having to rework those relationships. Who knows what might happen in 3 months? A lot of things can change.
And at the same time, I feel sort of guilty, because I ought to be satiated by the fact that I’m going to be living with two of my favorite people. And I guess I should just say outright that one of the people I’m going to miss is a boy. Which is so dumb. I know. I just.. want to get to know him. Is that so wrong? I’m trying not to get ahead of myself (with some good reminders from people who know what they’re talking about ;)) but it’s hard when everything seems to be slipping through my fingers. The uncertainty of it all makes me feel as if things aren’t at all in my control, and my inclination is to panic. I’m too far away to impact much, and when I do get there, I’m afraid it will be too late. :/
The worst part of these far apart opportunities is that each one leaves me wondering “what if?” I always feel as if there are things I should have done differently, or tried, or not done at all. My chances feel very limited and that makes me overanalyze everything. It’s not like if I leave something unsaid or undone, I can fix it the next day or the next week. These restrictions, whether they are merely my own perceptions or not, are painful.
I think I may just worry too much. :/ But it’s hard not to when everything feels like it has to be set in stone, like every potential mistake can’t be corrected.
Worst of all, I can’t shake this overwhelming feeling that the good times are never coming back.
I feel as if I have been neglecting the more “reflective” aspects of my blog. (I need to stop here to take a moment and loathe the fact that I actually spend time on the internet blogging about my feelings. Okay, anyway…) Way back in the beginning, the majority of my posts were written, and I did very little in the way of reblogging. (Funnily enough, they were also fairly positive. :P) I feel as if moving away from that kind of self-content—not necessarily the happy stuff, but just in general—has served to lessen the quality of my blog. Admittedly, I don’t really have many followers, and those that I do have are almost all people I actually know, so I hardly matter. I am more or less a teensy tiny blip on the radar of the internet, in a sea of other, more vocal disturbances.
And I’m not even sure what I want out of this experience, honestly. I suppose it’s a nice idea to have people read my stuff, even when it’s sort of pointless or irrelevant. But there is currently no focus to what I post; most of it isn’t my own, and I’m sort of fearful of the idea of limiting myself to one specific topic or thing. I suppose I could narrow my scope to just things that are related to my life, but I can see that falling apart rather quickly. You see, I can be exceptionally lazy at times.
I also know that long text posts can be rather daunting, and I can’t imagine anyone following me simply to read about my life. I’m not interesting, and I’m not motivated to become interesting. Even just writing this, possibilities come to mind, but I’ve neither the confidence nor the desire to put in the effort to make them real. (For example, it occurred to me just now that I could blog about, say, a new thing I do every week or every day, or something along those lines. But that requires action, and my apathetic self says no.)
Furthermore, I would then be operating under the assumption that my writing style is enjoyable, or at the very least tolerable. I sometimes feel that it is one or both of those things, but sometimes I find myself impossibly frustrated with my own ineptitude. Right now, for example, I feel as if I am not being very clear. And now I’m worried about how awkwardly I seem to be phrasing everything. And now.. well now I’m just overthinking all of it.
This honestly isn’t at all what I started this post wanting to discuss, but now here I am. I do desperately need to reflect, and will do so in another post, probably immediately following this one. But I’m glad I decided to address this, because it has been bothering me. So heads up! There may soon be changes to the format of this blog. Someone I follow recently decided to restrict herself to self-posts and only pictures she has taken, and I think I may follow suit.
Or perhaps I will return to my current constant stream of unrelated bullshit. Who knows.
I originally opened this post with a disclaimer advising that you keep scrolling, but scrapped it. Thank you, dear reader, if you have persevered to this point. I appreciate you.
n. the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own—populated with their own ambitions, friends, routines, worries and inherited craziness—an epic story that continues invisibly around you like an anthill sprawling deep…
It’s official: this is my new go-to karaoke song.
but I fear that it would be a financially irresponsible decision.
I wish I just had excessive amounts of money. Yeah. That would be cool.





