Long Night

Forgive me Lord, for I know not what I do in Management.

Today

This day has been small frustration after small frustration. It began with being freezing cold and having my toothpaste smear all around, and has just escalated to my lazy, self-centered, stupid, sycophant roommate locking me out of my room.

Really, why did you have to do that? Have I pissed you off mightily recently? No? Then don't lock me out, woman. Also, it's a bad idea to buy pizza and not let your roommate have a slice. It's not like I've treated you to pizza, pasta, you name it. And yes, we treat each other enough, but next time, it's a good idea to let the girl that doesn't even live with you eat for free and not your roommate.

I will make your life hell. You will not like it.

Keep your legs closed, you skank.

My phone, a constant source of frustration, agony, and pain, is officially on it's last leg. I don't know how or when I'm going to get another one, since Sprint no longer produces the Replenish (phone I have). This is frustrating.

I don't know who to reach out to, I don't know who I can talk to, and I really just want some chocolate.

Someone help me please, I'm about to throw myself into some traffic.

Waycross

Recently, I was asked what Waycross means to me. I'm not the soul-baring type, and I'm not the uber sympathetic type.

Waycross means the world to me. Yes, there is Waycross magic, yes, it was the first place I could be myself (whether that person was a shy, awkward nine-year-old or a thirteen-year-old punk), yes, it's one of three places I feel at home.

But there's more than that.

I don't want to go into details, but I am a very sad person. I've struggled with depression and anger towards myself. I'm self-depreciating and frustrated. This goes back to Waycross in that I am truly happy and at peace with myself there. I've never felt fat, never wanted to shave my head, never wanted to do myself harm while I'm at Waycross. It's because of the community there, a community where adults go by their first names, kid's lives are changed, and noone is alone. I've been on the outside. Waycross doesn't have an outside. That's just scratching the surface.

Waycross is the place I can go and be forgiven. I've made some big mistakes in my life, and haven't always been forgiven. Up until I go to Waycross, I'm the girl who can't do anything right. Sometimes, I'm surprised that I can get up and out of my crummy bed in the morning. But at Waycross, it's different. You can make mistakes, you can be forgiven. I've never been completely forgiven for anything in my life, everything I do comes back to haunt me. Waycross was the first place where people don't care as long as you apologize. It's the first place I learned to forgive myself for the harm I've done. I can forgive myself. I can. And it's because of Waycross.

I got hurt very badly when I was fifteen. It caused me to gain weight, lose interest in much of what I used to love, and depressed me. I don't go a day when I don't think about it, especially when I'm here at school and at home. At Waycross, though, I can see the person who hurt me in a different light. While I'm anywhere else, I wouldn't hesitate to hurt him back. But at Waycross, when I think of what he did, I don't think of it in anger. I don't want to hurt him like he hurt me. At Waycross, it was a mistake. It was a horrible thing to do, and something I would never, ever wish upon anyone else, but it was a mistake for him. I can't think that way when I'm not at Waycross.

Again, this is really only scratching the surface, but it's just a taste of how I feel about Waycross. It's everything to me. Waycross makes me take a step back and realize how blessed I am. It makes me think and act in a new way.

Benedict Cumberbatch... Ooh la la.

It's official, I have a crush. It's not on anyone in particular, just Benedict Cumberbatch.

As some people know, I tend to get crushes on people that are like, 15 years older than me and British.

The British part isn't a problem. It's the age gap. I've had issues with age gaps since I could develop crushes. Men my age don't thrill me. Possibly because they're still boys, not men.

Unf. He's just too good looking.

And he's single. This is of course an upgrade from other actors that are happily married and have like, five or six or eight children.





That's him. Me-OW.

I don't know what to do with myself. I'm not feeling well today, therefore sitting on my butt and watching The Little Mosque on Hulu. Eventually I will change to something on DVD like the River or download Third Star.

Third Star is a Benedict Cumberbatch movie, it's one of the saddest things I've ever seen. It starts out sad and doesn't get any better.

Dammit, Mr. Cumberbatch, don't distract me. Freaking move-y picture.

 My life is wasted in front of my computer screen. Look at all those faces, awwwwww.

I'm not a freaking fangirl, I promise.

Someone get me a bagel.

It's Five O'Clock Somewhere

I love the Little Mosque. It's such a cute show!

I hate management homework. I'm not putting four hours of work into five questions, that's really silly. Boom, hate it, done.

Anyhow, my story is kind of fleshing out. It's all in my head, but still. Someday it will get on paper.

But not tonight, I have another two hours of homework ahead of me.

A Study in Virgins, or Why Am I Still Single?

Short answer: because I'm overweight. Sometimes I'm sloppy, awkward, and my drawers have a nasty habit of falling down. This is why I'm single.

Would I change any of this if I had to? Probably not.

Being sloppy shows you're human. Think about people that you interact with on a daily basis, they all have flaws. Maddie pointed out a great truth in her post about being a Camp Counselor. I believe one of her posts was "You've done something that would make other people vomit."(link: http://tbirdswindowsill.blogspot.com/2012/07/top-50-you-know-youre-waycross.html ) I certainly hope I haven't been that extreme, but I suppose it's possible. Having flaws means that you're not fake, it means you have a third dimension. All of those flaws mean that you've lived. Everything that makes you you is in your flaws.

Let's talk about awkward, because there are varying degrees. For instance, I don't know if this has happened to anyone else, but after a particularly nice night, I was asked if I was 'clean'. Alright, yes, I am. No need for further questions. However, the next day this particular offender calls me up to ask (again) if I am indeed pure and holy. This is a ten on the awkward scale. Don't be this guy, you will never have friends. My particular brand of awkward is more refined, like lemon flavored jello as opposed to orange. Don't tell me you've ever seen anyone classy eating orange jello, you're a liar. However, lemon flavored jello is usually intermixed with classy things such as lemon meringue pie. I expect Audrey Hepburn ate a slice of lemon meringue pie in her day. This is my brand of awkward. Refined. Just crazy enough to be funny but also kind of sour. Still off putting, especially when you see that French Silk Pie next to the slice of Lemon Meringue.

Ah, yes, my drawers. It's not on purpose, I swear. Audrey Hepburn didn't have this problem, she didn't wear drawers. In fact, I don't even think that Rosie the Riveter wore drawers by themselves. She had a cute denim coverall. If you have one, wear that thing, it's awesome. Back to my particular set of black skinnies that can't seem to stay up: It's because I've stretched them out.

These three reasons are why I'm single, but you know what? I'd totally buy a smaller pair of jeans. That is all. 

Studying. Even Though I Don't Want To.

I just can't seem to get excited about my work. I know that statistics and Die Hard are on the same level of excitement, but really, I am so bored.

Since I'm bored, I decided I'd text a guy I've been seeing. His response to my bootay call was no, he was too lazy to drive. This confirms that I have horrible taste in men, this one is lazy and drinks all the time.

I really shouldn't be as mad as I am. It isn't all his fault, I've been kind of withdrawing from friends here recently, favoring those that I cannot see everyday.

This is fine, I really value them more. It just frustrates me that I'm growing more and more distant from my friends here at school and closer and closer to people that aren't in my daily life.

Again, not his fault, totally mine.

I'm so bored sitting here I can't even see straight. I'm listening to Irish folk music and Mumford and sons, I've surfed Reddit, there's nothing else for me to do.


Except flipping homework.

Maybe I'll get more focused as the night goes on. Maybe I'll just up and die in this uncomfortable, smelly chair.

This post is making no sense, but whatever, my butt is flat because of this silly chair.

Anyways, I've been thinking about writing again. I have a couple storylines I've been thinking about, but I'm such a terrible writer. I don't know how I'd flesh the story out. I do know how they would go for the most part. I think. For instance, I want to do a story about a surrogate mother.

She'd be poor, like a crappy apartment, skinny dog, old clothes. And she'd be a delivery driver or a barista or something low-income, with a deadbeat boyfriend, you know the type. Anyhow, I'd have her in a situation where she needs cash fast, and impulsively, she becomes a surrogate mother. She doesn't meet the dad beforehand (or so she thinks) and doesn't know who he is. Eventually, she meets him and it turns out that he is a major Hollywood star.

Anyhow, I can't decide what would happen after that, I tend to go really dark.

I'm gonna go get some Pringles and Fritos. Single life is great.