I don't want to lose navy. He worked hard to make me realize I loved him (no really, he did). I sat down and thought about my options regarding what I could do about the situation.
I can fight for him, or I can do what I've always been doing and let him become more and more distant till he's gone.
So I decided to fight for him.
This past week I've seen him at least 4 times, including 2 sleepovers (btw, freaking out the whole time thinking about how I needed to study). Slowly over the week he's becoming more like his old self, but I'm not getting my hopes up. I made sure I never brought up any of our fights, attempted to be light hearted, and - oh yeah - no talking about my test.
At first he was (or seemed) happy that I could spend more time with him, validating why I should by saying I needed time away from the books -- but over the course of the week, vs. hearing about my freak outs, he "saw" how much the test was on my mind.
On situation arose when my study buddy called me asking what I'd gotten done the day before, I left the room so he didn't have to hear me, but I guess he followed me out and heard the conversation determining I was behind schedule. I was disappointed with myself and gave myself time to compose "happy me" again. Navy walked in with me, sitting on the bed, somber, clutching my schedule, and muttering about how I was going to catch up. At that moment I think he realized how much shit I really had going on.
Then he turned into old navy *insert mushy stuff here*, and later called me to check in on my progress (unheard of) and sent me cute little text messages in support.
Now - I know this is only a temporary fix, but something I deemed necessary for our relationship. I was really scared I was going to lose him - and I just wanted to remind him how good we are together.
My thoughts currently lay with what happens after my test, where my clinicals will be - and if we can last the long distance.
As of right now, I unfortunately think we won't - he's young, hot, and has stupid blondes after him, but I am trying to be optimistic and not cross that bridge before I come to it.
I really do love him...
Saturday, December 8, 2007
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
In an effort to save my sanity
You will now start hearing me cry about my boyfriend. All kidding aside - I think I might have lost navy in the last month.
Navy came to where I live after we started dating. He came, had a few friends from before the move, and luckily - they were intertwined to my friends which made us all one big happy family. I trusted this group of friends, and while I was on my own studying and he was out with them I had no doubt in my mind that navy was doing his own thing. I had a trust with him that never made me question anything he was doing.
Then when I went on a recent trip (lasting a month and a half) navy changed. It started with a fight he picked with me. He told me that a girl on his softball team was also dating a medical student (2 years) and how their relationship was breaking, and that it was due to the long distance. He became defensive and stubborn - a side of him I'd never seen. Up until that moment navy and I had probably had maybe 3 huge fights in the span of 9 months. After that date - they became more regular.
I started to place blame on the girl he'd spoken to after seeing her facebook picture and realizing she was a cute little blonde. (I have had bad run ins with cute little blondes stealing my boyfriends). I tell navy of my wandering mind, and he assures me that it's nothing. Though I still had nagging thoughts in my head, I push them aside thinking that my test in making me paranoid. Then navy starts being shady with me when telling me where he's going or who he's hanging out with. Though I let myself believe I was being paranoid I met him out one night recently where he told me he was meeting a guy to watch a game - and ran into him and his new group of buddies, blonde included.
I asked him if when he lied to me he thought he was protecting me - he replied he didn't want me to know she was there because he didn't want it to be awkward.
It hurt my pride that he lied to me to hang out with said girl, since I've been so careful as to establish trust between us, not witholding anything from him. It also hurt because he knew I had weird feelings towards her before - and now I definitely have weird feelings about her seeing as to how my boyfriend will lie to me about hanging out with her.
Though I trust that navy would never cheat on me, it doesn't mean that he might not like this other girl - who is blonder, a bigger partier, goes out vs. stays in, has a job, etc, and that he might see something in her more appealing than me - his hermit of a girlfriend who still has almost 5 years of schooling left in her.
Regardless his attitude towards me has changed in little ways. No more long talks we use to enjoy, no more cute e mails, no more fun date ideas, nothing - now, more snapping, annoyed glances and bickering.
I feel that because I put my education first, I've lost him in the process - if I had gone out to see his softball games, saw him more that one day a week, if I had been a little different these past months - maybe I wouldn't be thinking this way, and maybe I wouldn't be losing him.
I'm waiting until my test to see how we are after. But this doesn't look good, and I'm sad when thinking of what may come.
Navy came to where I live after we started dating. He came, had a few friends from before the move, and luckily - they were intertwined to my friends which made us all one big happy family. I trusted this group of friends, and while I was on my own studying and he was out with them I had no doubt in my mind that navy was doing his own thing. I had a trust with him that never made me question anything he was doing.
Then when I went on a recent trip (lasting a month and a half) navy changed. It started with a fight he picked with me. He told me that a girl on his softball team was also dating a medical student (2 years) and how their relationship was breaking, and that it was due to the long distance. He became defensive and stubborn - a side of him I'd never seen. Up until that moment navy and I had probably had maybe 3 huge fights in the span of 9 months. After that date - they became more regular.
I started to place blame on the girl he'd spoken to after seeing her facebook picture and realizing she was a cute little blonde. (I have had bad run ins with cute little blondes stealing my boyfriends). I tell navy of my wandering mind, and he assures me that it's nothing. Though I still had nagging thoughts in my head, I push them aside thinking that my test in making me paranoid. Then navy starts being shady with me when telling me where he's going or who he's hanging out with. Though I let myself believe I was being paranoid I met him out one night recently where he told me he was meeting a guy to watch a game - and ran into him and his new group of buddies, blonde included.
I asked him if when he lied to me he thought he was protecting me - he replied he didn't want me to know she was there because he didn't want it to be awkward.
It hurt my pride that he lied to me to hang out with said girl, since I've been so careful as to establish trust between us, not witholding anything from him. It also hurt because he knew I had weird feelings towards her before - and now I definitely have weird feelings about her seeing as to how my boyfriend will lie to me about hanging out with her.
Though I trust that navy would never cheat on me, it doesn't mean that he might not like this other girl - who is blonder, a bigger partier, goes out vs. stays in, has a job, etc, and that he might see something in her more appealing than me - his hermit of a girlfriend who still has almost 5 years of schooling left in her.
Regardless his attitude towards me has changed in little ways. No more long talks we use to enjoy, no more cute e mails, no more fun date ideas, nothing - now, more snapping, annoyed glances and bickering.
I feel that because I put my education first, I've lost him in the process - if I had gone out to see his softball games, saw him more that one day a week, if I had been a little different these past months - maybe I wouldn't be thinking this way, and maybe I wouldn't be losing him.
I'm waiting until my test to see how we are after. But this doesn't look good, and I'm sad when thinking of what may come.
Monday, December 3, 2007
And then there was the long awaited reply
A friend wrote me awhile back seeking advice in his confusion over why he hadn't found the perfect woman even though he had stopped being an ass and sleeping with countless numbers of them. I stumbled across this reply I wrote him after he replied over a month later. Though his questions and replies will be kept between us, I liked what I had to say and decided to pass it on. Enjoy :)!
We (and by we I mean those like you and myself) seem to always get side-tracked easily. We tend to let that which make us an individual be replaced by that which we think will make us happy.
We sometimes think that someone or something will define us. We let ourselves date people who aren't compatible with us, because we had once found someone similar to our nature, and found happiness with them. We think that anyone can take their place, because a body
sleeping next to you, is just a body sleeping next to you. Who needs them to talk when you can make enough conversation for the both of you right?
So we date the masses, and become bored with their lack there of month after month. There are many who will take their spot because you, like I, have an amazing personality and a confidence people fear. Soon we start to see those around us as only bodies, and instead of
searching for another like minded individual, begin to shut out the world.
I shut out the world, and I did so gladly, to my studies. I had no time for men, nor the thoughts of them. I played with a couple bodies, and tried to convince myself they had minds - but eventually convinced myself it was hopeless. Around that time I met Navy. He was a body, not a mind, but I've learned he was filled with things that a mind doesn't always appreciate until it presents itself in a selfless manner. I needed what he was filled with to bring me out of whatever hole I had dug myself. Something that was kind, patient, and strong. The more I look at the mind's around me, be those in the hospital, the library, old friends, the more I can see that I would never really work with any of them.
I have a mind, and I will be the first to say I have a large competitive streak. Those that counter me will usually get a shrug as a reply, showing how much I doubt/don't care about their opinion - yet hours later I will look up the subject of interest to ease my curiosity as to whom was correct. I then looked back to all the relationships I've ever had. Non of my long term relationships had what I would consider a strong "mind". They were all smart in their own way's however, my first boyfriend could sing, my second - he had street smarts, the third... the third was a fighter and finally the current - he knows too much to list that I could never counter.
So here's my reply to you:
No, you don't want to be alone. You want to have the same happiness you feel whenever you fall into your infatuations. However, I do feel like you might be looking in the wrong places. Instead of looking at all the mind's around you - start with the body. If the body is to your liking, see what else it may hold. Don't lead the conversations to where you want them to go, let them lead you. No expectations, no regrets.
oh yeah, and if you want to have sex do it for pete's sake! You probably have enough tension to bring down the wall of china!
:) k?
like totally awesome dude *twirls hair*
me.
We (and by we I mean those like you and myself) seem to always get side-tracked easily. We tend to let that which make us an individual be replaced by that which we think will make us happy.
We sometimes think that someone or something will define us. We let ourselves date people who aren't compatible with us, because we had once found someone similar to our nature, and found happiness with them. We think that anyone can take their place, because a body
sleeping next to you, is just a body sleeping next to you. Who needs them to talk when you can make enough conversation for the both of you right?
So we date the masses, and become bored with their lack there of month after month. There are many who will take their spot because you, like I, have an amazing personality and a confidence people fear. Soon we start to see those around us as only bodies, and instead of
searching for another like minded individual, begin to shut out the world.
I shut out the world, and I did so gladly, to my studies. I had no time for men, nor the thoughts of them. I played with a couple bodies, and tried to convince myself they had minds - but eventually convinced myself it was hopeless. Around that time I met Navy. He was a body, not a mind, but I've learned he was filled with things that a mind doesn't always appreciate until it presents itself in a selfless manner. I needed what he was filled with to bring me out of whatever hole I had dug myself. Something that was kind, patient, and strong. The more I look at the mind's around me, be those in the hospital, the library, old friends, the more I can see that I would never really work with any of them.
I have a mind, and I will be the first to say I have a large competitive streak. Those that counter me will usually get a shrug as a reply, showing how much I doubt/don't care about their opinion - yet hours later I will look up the subject of interest to ease my curiosity as to whom was correct. I then looked back to all the relationships I've ever had. Non of my long term relationships had what I would consider a strong "mind". They were all smart in their own way's however, my first boyfriend could sing, my second - he had street smarts, the third... the third was a fighter and finally the current - he knows too much to list that I could never counter.
So here's my reply to you:
No, you don't want to be alone. You want to have the same happiness you feel whenever you fall into your infatuations. However, I do feel like you might be looking in the wrong places. Instead of looking at all the mind's around you - start with the body. If the body is to your liking, see what else it may hold. Don't lead the conversations to where you want them to go, let them lead you. No expectations, no regrets.
oh yeah, and if you want to have sex do it for pete's sake! You probably have enough tension to bring down the wall of china!
:) k?
like totally awesome dude *twirls hair*
me.
Friday, November 30, 2007
Friday, November 23, 2007
H2 blockers and Gallbladder stones
The day before thanksgiving I get an uneasy feeling in my tummy. It started right after I woke up and progressively worsened the following hour.
I'd had this type of pain before once while navy was around while we were driving back from his parents house - which ended in me pulling over, having what seemed like a panic attack (crying, gasping for air, etc) and navy having a deer-in-headlights-look on his face trying to figure out how to help.
At that time I convinced myself it was some type of horrible reflux and drank maalox which seemed to help my symptoms. Yay burping.
Anyhoo - this time the pain came back and I ended up in the emergency room... mid panic attack phase, clutching chest, and babbling on about my symptoms to the ER docs who smiled as I gave my HPI and asked what year in medical school I was in.
Was it that obvious in my delirium?
So the ultrasound showed light shadowing in my gallbladder which had them recommending more tests, but my symptoms were diminished by the use of H2 blockers which diminished gastric acid secretion.
I don't really get what that means. If the H2 blockers where what helped, then I'm really freaking out about my test and possibly giving myself ulcers. If I just passed a gallstone - that means I probably have some issues with it and will need to have it removed prior to taking my test (which is very VERY soon).
I don't have time for medical issues before my medical boards.
no bueno.
I'd had this type of pain before once while navy was around while we were driving back from his parents house - which ended in me pulling over, having what seemed like a panic attack (crying, gasping for air, etc) and navy having a deer-in-headlights-look on his face trying to figure out how to help.
At that time I convinced myself it was some type of horrible reflux and drank maalox which seemed to help my symptoms. Yay burping.
Anyhoo - this time the pain came back and I ended up in the emergency room... mid panic attack phase, clutching chest, and babbling on about my symptoms to the ER docs who smiled as I gave my HPI and asked what year in medical school I was in.
Was it that obvious in my delirium?
So the ultrasound showed light shadowing in my gallbladder which had them recommending more tests, but my symptoms were diminished by the use of H2 blockers which diminished gastric acid secretion.
I don't really get what that means. If the H2 blockers where what helped, then I'm really freaking out about my test and possibly giving myself ulcers. If I just passed a gallstone - that means I probably have some issues with it and will need to have it removed prior to taking my test (which is very VERY soon).
I don't have time for medical issues before my medical boards.
no bueno.
Monday, November 19, 2007
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Sunday, November 11, 2007
Introducing my doggie: TADA!
He is the most spoiled, lovable little shit you could possibly imagine.
No I don't dress him (but I totally would if I could get away with it) - ok ok, I gave him a cute little spike collar because he's tough. I made sure it was green so it matched his brown black and white fur...
stop looking at me like that
oh yeah, and when he cuddles with me, it pokes me in the face. Stupid collar.
Anyway.
I have decided to blog about him not only because I am obsessed, but also because he's sitting on my lap right now staring at the screen (and sometimes trying to type too).
He is a 30 pound beagle. OOMPH!
*side note*
I just figured out how to mobile blog (more reasons to procrastinate while studying!)
Therefore this blog will now be riddled with pictures of him when he does cute stuff. My boyfriend has had to deal with these moments up until now - I figured I'd give him a break :)
ha!
yay blog.
No I don't dress him (but I totally would if I could get away with it) - ok ok, I gave him a cute little spike collar because he's tough. I made sure it was green so it matched his brown black and white fur...
stop looking at me like that
oh yeah, and when he cuddles with me, it pokes me in the face. Stupid collar.
Anyway.
I have decided to blog about him not only because I am obsessed, but also because he's sitting on my lap right now staring at the screen (and sometimes trying to type too).
He is a 30 pound beagle. OOMPH!
*side note*
I just figured out how to mobile blog (more reasons to procrastinate while studying!)
Therefore this blog will now be riddled with pictures of him when he does cute stuff. My boyfriend has had to deal with these moments up until now - I figured I'd give him a break :)
ha!
yay blog.
Faker
Sometimes I feel like I only am where I am today because I'm a good faker. That every step has only been accomplished by sliding by.
I am going to be a doctor. Someone that will hold someone's life in their hands.
Someone, who could come in telling me they have the flu with mild coughs, might have a life threatening pneumonia that I need to be able to diagnose and treat - so that they walk away fine and alert without having complications leading to a near death experience.
I want to go into internal medicine. I'm going to have to treat many, know all, and conquer none. I will have no life through my internship, and am aiming for a practice before I'm 30.
And right now, right now I CAN'T EVEN GET MY PRACTICE USMLE SCORES IN THE RIGHT PLACE.
AAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRGHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!
WHHHHHHAT THE HEEEEEEEEEEEEELLL!
ugh, I feel like a complete and utter failure.
I study and cram and review a subject TO DEATH only to come back with scores WORSE THAN WHEN I BEGAN!!!
FUCKING SHOOT ME!
I can only imagine those with lower grades than me in basics are feeling... kill me now.
I am going to be a doctor. Someone that will hold someone's life in their hands.
Someone, who could come in telling me they have the flu with mild coughs, might have a life threatening pneumonia that I need to be able to diagnose and treat - so that they walk away fine and alert without having complications leading to a near death experience.
I want to go into internal medicine. I'm going to have to treat many, know all, and conquer none. I will have no life through my internship, and am aiming for a practice before I'm 30.
And right now, right now I CAN'T EVEN GET MY PRACTICE USMLE SCORES IN THE RIGHT PLACE.
AAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRGHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!
WHHHHHHAT THE HEEEEEEEEEEEEELLL!
ugh, I feel like a complete and utter failure.
I study and cram and review a subject TO DEATH only to come back with scores WORSE THAN WHEN I BEGAN!!!
FUCKING SHOOT ME!
I can only imagine those with lower grades than me in basics are feeling... kill me now.
Monday, November 5, 2007
How does one save herself from insanity?
She blogs...
So I figured I should get back into this. Though I don't have much to write initially, I usually get into blogging mode when I listen to music. I have a lot of catching up to do, so I guess I'll start with the biggie.
Navy met the family. *gasp* I met his sister *double gasp* and now it seems like his family has taken me in as one of their own. *scream*
This is odd for me in many ways.
For one, I don't like meeting my boyfriend's parents. It gets too serious for me. It makes me think of bigger things like... how our parents would like one another, and how it would be like if we were married (omg the M word).
It's so serious, and so weird at the same time. Navy and I will be celebrating our "1 year" this coming new years. Tonight he and I had dinner, and I felt like I was still in high school. We sat on the same side of the table, held hands, joked around with our food, dressed nice enough to impress each other, and laughed the whole time.
Unlike other relationships navy and I don't really... fight. Don't get me wrong, we've had a few biggies - mainly 3.
I can honestly say that after one year with him I am still as happy, as I was when I first met him (rare), as when I first came back from basic sciences (infatuation should be fading), as when I saw him when I got off the plane from my review courses (infatuation should be gone), as I guess I'll ever be. Tonight at dinner still acted like we were... in love, a rare treat for someone with my track record.
Usually by a year I'm sick of the guy, annoyed by him, or have caught him cheating on me. It's like a curse that I would never make it past a year with any guy I decide to date. I always convinced myself my type was the cheating kind. The ones who usually pursue me enough to make it in, have usually pursued another girl around the time they finally won me.
I've also been taking in the relationships around me and appreciating my own more. My boards study buddy has been dating her boyfriend for almost 2 years now. Her boyfriend is similar to navy. When they argue he wants to walk away and not talk about it. He doesn't resolve things - which leaves their minor disagreements evolving into major issues. Where as I confront navy and force him into resolving the minor conflict immediately, she has let him walk away to the point where now they argue about everything and are in a constant uncomfortable fighting status.
I see their relationship and am so thankful that I have someone I can talk to, that listens to me.
Slowly but surely navy has won. He always told me he'd win me over, that one day it I'd see he was the one for me, that he was patiently waiting for me until that time.
I think I finally realized he's right.
He's not what I thought I'd end up with. As of right now he doesn't have a college degree, is in the navy, and is only full of promises that he'll be something great. But I believe him, and somehow the stubborn me has stepped aside and the supportive me (which is usually only reserved for myself ;) ) is backing him up and pushing him towards his goals.
Isn't that what love is supposed to be?
You push each other? Support each other? Grow stronger together?
So how does one save herself from insanity?
1. She blogs.
2. She surrounds herself with those she loves.
3. She plays with her adorable doggie :)
So I figured I should get back into this. Though I don't have much to write initially, I usually get into blogging mode when I listen to music. I have a lot of catching up to do, so I guess I'll start with the biggie.
Navy met the family. *gasp* I met his sister *double gasp* and now it seems like his family has taken me in as one of their own. *scream*
This is odd for me in many ways.
For one, I don't like meeting my boyfriend's parents. It gets too serious for me. It makes me think of bigger things like... how our parents would like one another, and how it would be like if we were married (omg the M word).
It's so serious, and so weird at the same time. Navy and I will be celebrating our "1 year" this coming new years. Tonight he and I had dinner, and I felt like I was still in high school. We sat on the same side of the table, held hands, joked around with our food, dressed nice enough to impress each other, and laughed the whole time.
Unlike other relationships navy and I don't really... fight. Don't get me wrong, we've had a few biggies - mainly 3.
1. He broke a promiseBut all in all, we don't fight (ok ok, one time I cried when I told him I was jealous of the hot blonde on his softball team - lets not talk about that embarrassing incident again). Most of those were on the phone due to our sometimes long distance relationship.
2. College
3. His ex girlfriend.
I can honestly say that after one year with him I am still as happy, as I was when I first met him (rare), as when I first came back from basic sciences (infatuation should be fading), as when I saw him when I got off the plane from my review courses (infatuation should be gone), as I guess I'll ever be. Tonight at dinner still acted like we were... in love, a rare treat for someone with my track record.
Usually by a year I'm sick of the guy, annoyed by him, or have caught him cheating on me. It's like a curse that I would never make it past a year with any guy I decide to date. I always convinced myself my type was the cheating kind. The ones who usually pursue me enough to make it in, have usually pursued another girl around the time they finally won me.
I've also been taking in the relationships around me and appreciating my own more. My boards study buddy has been dating her boyfriend for almost 2 years now. Her boyfriend is similar to navy. When they argue he wants to walk away and not talk about it. He doesn't resolve things - which leaves their minor disagreements evolving into major issues. Where as I confront navy and force him into resolving the minor conflict immediately, she has let him walk away to the point where now they argue about everything and are in a constant uncomfortable fighting status.
I see their relationship and am so thankful that I have someone I can talk to, that listens to me.
Slowly but surely navy has won. He always told me he'd win me over, that one day it I'd see he was the one for me, that he was patiently waiting for me until that time.
I think I finally realized he's right.
He's not what I thought I'd end up with. As of right now he doesn't have a college degree, is in the navy, and is only full of promises that he'll be something great. But I believe him, and somehow the stubborn me has stepped aside and the supportive me (which is usually only reserved for myself ;) ) is backing him up and pushing him towards his goals.
Isn't that what love is supposed to be?
You push each other? Support each other? Grow stronger together?
So how does one save herself from insanity?
1. She blogs.
2. She surrounds herself with those she loves.
3. She plays with her adorable doggie :)
Friday, October 26, 2007
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Death by study
I have picked the date for my boards and am aiming towards taking them mid november. I am now rethinking the date and trying to figure a better one a month later.
Throughout this process I think I might be going crazy.
Since I study so much, navy has told me I have "nuke syndrome." Apparently all the "nukes" (nuclear engineer's) on the ship are uber smart. In fact they're so smart they don't get normal concepts. In navy talk he basically just called me a ditz. I can spit out the fact that the mentally challenged girl I saw at a national park has angelmann's syndrome, but ask me what time it is and I stare at the clock for a good 1-2 minutes before I can figure it out.
I have also been dealing with self esteem issues. My test grades aren't up to par, and I'm being self critical. This must also mean in my fragile little mind that navy doesn't love me anymore and that he's now attracted to the hot blonde on his softball team.
Yes, I'm admitting I was jealous... this is a once in a lifetime occurance.
It didn't help that Navy has been upset with me due to my study schedule. He isn't allowed to see me except for sunday's, and phone conversations are only permitted after 8pm (the phone is of until then). Therefore he's been acting strange, which aided in my quickly escalating jealousy.
However, I did speak to him about my issues (goo me! Verbalizing! I'm so proud of myself), to which he basically laughed at me and told me he would never and has never cheated - after which he expressed his frustration with my schedule and his life in general.
Other than that, my life is boring. I study, do questions, and (for the last week) obsess over small minute details.
updates:
- never talked to CPE - he e mailed an update on his life, i told him nothing about mine
- wrote the weird guy back and told him his advances were not wanted nor appreciated. He hasn't written me since, which has made me very happy.
I will probably blog more now that I am always trying to procrastinate - but it will probably be all about my boards. :/ ugh
Throughout this process I think I might be going crazy.
Since I study so much, navy has told me I have "nuke syndrome." Apparently all the "nukes" (nuclear engineer's) on the ship are uber smart. In fact they're so smart they don't get normal concepts. In navy talk he basically just called me a ditz. I can spit out the fact that the mentally challenged girl I saw at a national park has angelmann's syndrome, but ask me what time it is and I stare at the clock for a good 1-2 minutes before I can figure it out.
I have also been dealing with self esteem issues. My test grades aren't up to par, and I'm being self critical. This must also mean in my fragile little mind that navy doesn't love me anymore and that he's now attracted to the hot blonde on his softball team.
Yes, I'm admitting I was jealous... this is a once in a lifetime occurance.
It didn't help that Navy has been upset with me due to my study schedule. He isn't allowed to see me except for sunday's, and phone conversations are only permitted after 8pm (the phone is of until then). Therefore he's been acting strange, which aided in my quickly escalating jealousy.
However, I did speak to him about my issues (goo me! Verbalizing! I'm so proud of myself), to which he basically laughed at me and told me he would never and has never cheated - after which he expressed his frustration with my schedule and his life in general.
Other than that, my life is boring. I study, do questions, and (for the last week) obsess over small minute details.
updates:
- never talked to CPE - he e mailed an update on his life, i told him nothing about mine
- wrote the weird guy back and told him his advances were not wanted nor appreciated. He hasn't written me since, which has made me very happy.
I will probably blog more now that I am always trying to procrastinate - but it will probably be all about my boards. :/ ugh
Sunday, September 16, 2007
I will never be nice to anyone again.
I am known for showing my... dislike of people (usually skeezy men) when I don't know them.
I have now learned this is for a very good reason.
I have learned of yet ANOTHER weirdo, who is/was/has always been in love with me.
ugh - shoot me.
My first semester in basics there was a kid that hung out with people I knew from back home that I thought was weird. Apparently I wasn't too nice to him. After being yelled at a couple semesters about what a bitch I was towards him, I was nicer to him 4th semester before I left.
*side note* this kid WAS in my class, but failed a million times, and I think he's just now finishing 3rd semester - i'm in my 6th.
Recently he send me an e mail - not to bore you with details, it was odd... yet I always thought he was odd - and I wrote him back asking how basics was. The letter he replied back to that was... interesting - and basically said "lets stop punishing each other and be with one another now."
I forwarded the e mail to the friend who yelled at me for being so rude to him.
This brings her to tell me a story which involves him being in love with me since first semester, and blaming me for his failures because he couldn't get me out of my head. She had apparently heard it the night before from our other friend who just finished basics - who he confided in.
I AM HAVING FLASHBACKS OF FREAKY MED AND HIS VALENTINES DAY FIASCO FIRST SEMESTER!!! WHAT THE HELL!? FREAKS ARE DRAWN TO ME!
on another note:
CPE has also started calling again - he and his girl must be having problems. Navy finally had enough and called his number back. CPE hung up on him - i guess he was at a bar.
navy being possessive is hot.... grrowl.
Is it odd that I'm worried about CPE and want to make sure he's ok? He's like a sick puppy... I'd talk to him if I didn't think it would fuck him up more than he is.
I have now learned this is for a very good reason.
I have learned of yet ANOTHER weirdo, who is/was/has always been in love with me.
ugh - shoot me.
My first semester in basics there was a kid that hung out with people I knew from back home that I thought was weird. Apparently I wasn't too nice to him. After being yelled at a couple semesters about what a bitch I was towards him, I was nicer to him 4th semester before I left.
*side note* this kid WAS in my class, but failed a million times, and I think he's just now finishing 3rd semester - i'm in my 6th.
Recently he send me an e mail - not to bore you with details, it was odd... yet I always thought he was odd - and I wrote him back asking how basics was. The letter he replied back to that was... interesting - and basically said "lets stop punishing each other and be with one another now."
I forwarded the e mail to the friend who yelled at me for being so rude to him.
This brings her to tell me a story which involves him being in love with me since first semester, and blaming me for his failures because he couldn't get me out of my head. She had apparently heard it the night before from our other friend who just finished basics - who he confided in.
I AM HAVING FLASHBACKS OF FREAKY MED AND HIS VALENTINES DAY FIASCO FIRST SEMESTER!!! WHAT THE HELL!? FREAKS ARE DRAWN TO ME!
on another note:
CPE has also started calling again - he and his girl must be having problems. Navy finally had enough and called his number back. CPE hung up on him - i guess he was at a bar.
navy being possessive is hot.... grrowl.
Is it odd that I'm worried about CPE and want to make sure he's ok? He's like a sick puppy... I'd talk to him if I didn't think it would fuck him up more than he is.
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Still Alive
The blog hasn't died, but I just might :/.
Studying for my boards right now - should be taking them soon.
Wish me luck!!!
Studying for my boards right now - should be taking them soon.
Wish me luck!!!
Sunday, August 12, 2007
What do you want to be?
The topic of conversation has been coming up concerning what direction I should take my career. Most people point out the money. "You should do this because you'll get paid tons," or "This field makes loads of money," yadda yadda yadda. I've kept my mouth surprisingly shut though most of the time I want to scream: I AM NOT DOING THIS FOR THE MONEY!
I can honestly say I would be happy if I had enough to get by. It seems like money is more of an issue for my friends and family than it is for me. The guy I marry needs to have money, because I'll be making money and heaven forbid I make more than him. The car I drive needs to be expensive because people look at that and it means something. Where I live must be expensive and upscale because yet again, heaven forbid I live somewhere modest.
I will admit, later in life when I have children I don't want them to grow up in the ghetto. I want them to grow up comfortably, yet understand the value of money. I want them to grow in a safe environment where doors can be left unlocked, and neighbors are trusted to watch them or have them over for cookies and milk without seducing them. I understand this all takes money of some sort - to take them out of the filth society has built for itself... but why oh why must it always come down to that?
Why can't I move to rural pennsylvania, in a small town where property is cheap by the acres? Why can't I move to a random beachfront property in texas or florida - where no one really goes to, and is shielded from the corruption of bigger, badder, more expensive locations? Why can't I just go somewhere, live comfortably, and have a normal life without worrying about money?
I want to help those who can't help themselves. I want to go places where people aren't able to get the attention those here in the state take for granted. I want to give people things they sometimes need, not wait hand on foot on those who just want.
I want to make a difference.
I will make a difference.
And the money... may never be enjoyed if I'm only going to use it for the benefit of those I love, or those who need it more than I do.
I can honestly say I would be happy if I had enough to get by. It seems like money is more of an issue for my friends and family than it is for me. The guy I marry needs to have money, because I'll be making money and heaven forbid I make more than him. The car I drive needs to be expensive because people look at that and it means something. Where I live must be expensive and upscale because yet again, heaven forbid I live somewhere modest.
I will admit, later in life when I have children I don't want them to grow up in the ghetto. I want them to grow up comfortably, yet understand the value of money. I want them to grow in a safe environment where doors can be left unlocked, and neighbors are trusted to watch them or have them over for cookies and milk without seducing them. I understand this all takes money of some sort - to take them out of the filth society has built for itself... but why oh why must it always come down to that?
Why can't I move to rural pennsylvania, in a small town where property is cheap by the acres? Why can't I move to a random beachfront property in texas or florida - where no one really goes to, and is shielded from the corruption of bigger, badder, more expensive locations? Why can't I just go somewhere, live comfortably, and have a normal life without worrying about money?
I want to help those who can't help themselves. I want to go places where people aren't able to get the attention those here in the state take for granted. I want to give people things they sometimes need, not wait hand on foot on those who just want.
I want to make a difference.
I will make a difference.
And the money... may never be enjoyed if I'm only going to use it for the benefit of those I love, or those who need it more than I do.
Friday, July 27, 2007
Go away.
Don't you hate those people that turn every situation into something that revolves around them? You tell them a story about something that happened in your day, and they feel compelled to not only NOT comment on your interaction, but try to TOP it with a story of their own, ending in how great they are?That's why I think I like my blog so much, i can make it all about myself, and not really care about anyone else's take on it.
Sometime, however well intentioned you might be, you find weirdo's on the internet that tend to think that just because they read your most intimate thoughts, that they somehow KNOW you. They form some sort of weird attachment and relate it to caring about you.
These are the type of people that scare me. (I also throw those that tell me their full medical history within 2 minutes of finding out I'm in medicine into this category.)
The reason I have this blog is because a reader of the old blog crossed the line. Their comments only reflected how self absorbed they were, and their "my story beats yours" attitude took the tranquility of my blog away from me. So I left the old blog cold turkey, started a new one, and LOW AND BEHOLD, it looks like I have a little internet stalker peering over my shoulder and reading things about my life again. (thank you site meter)
How this person found me, i don't know. All I know is that it's scary, that I don't want anything to do with them. They've begun to haunt blogs I use to read, send me nasty little e mails, and for the life of me I don't understand WHY THEY DON'T JUST GO AWAY.
Anyway, if I end up dead in a gutter and this blog goes dead again, you'll know why. They're just as bad as CP - and i think that even he's given up.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
PSA
I guess this post has been a long time coming. I'm so good at dealing with everyone else's problems rather than mine... I am the queen of denial. If I don't talk, see, deal with it - it's not happening right? But if my best friend's father she hate's dies... I'm there for her, if the grandmother she rarely spoke to dies, I'm there for her... if her best friend growing up's father dies... I'm there for her. But somehow - things always hit home and you see things much differently.
PSA is the antigen used in screening for prostate hyperplasia or carcinoma. In normal talk when someone's PSA is elevated that means either the person just has a big prostate (that should be carefully watched) or cancer. Anything more than 4 means an enlarged prostate with a chance of carcinoma, anything above 10 has a 50% chance of being cancer.
My grandmother has been very sick for some time. She's been in and out of the hospital, and even had a scary trip to the ICU while I was in basics. My grandfather has retired and where he use to have her waiting on him (she was sooooooo cute the way she'd plan out his day, have food waiting for him, doing his laundry) he is now running the house.
They had/have the perfect marriage, perfectly happy in their roles. She stayed home, cooked, cleaned, never even had a drivers license, he took care of everything outside of that. He has never once complained the role reversal, of her being sick, of having to dress her, has learned to cook (after watching her for 60 some years) and listens to her nagging while he fumbles to organize the millions of pills he has to give her for her heart.
We have never questioned whether he could survive without her. I dreading her death have distanced myself. Writing about this, and even thinking it usually brings upon tears (which is no bueno in the library while I'm studying for boards... but procrastination is a bitch) which I push away by what? not thinking about it. But about a month ago I had a nightmare while spending the night at navy's house:
I don't remember this interaction. He told me about it when he e mailed me from work the next day, I do however remember the dream:
The next morning I get a message from my mother: "Call me ASAP"
I call her back during a study break and tell her about my dream. She sits there quietly and tells me my grandfather has prostate cancer, and that he's gifting me with his restaurant. Then she proceeds to ask me everything I know about it. I ask the usual questions trying to figure out it's severity and kick in doctor mode. I made her think it wasn't as bad as it was presenting her with the facts. He's over 80, if it hasn't metastasized it's not that bad, blah blah. Then I hung up the phone, and cried.
I cried all day, and then I stopped - and never thought about it again.
Except for the weekend when we went to tell him at his house.
I was FUMING. HOW DARE THE DOCTOR BREACH CONFIDENTIALITY AND EXPECT HIS FAMILY TO TELL HIM. The doctor had told my aunt, who told my father she wasn't going to tell him, to which my father turned around and told my grandfather. I went with the family that weekend and ate the lunch my grandfather had prepared under my grandmothers watchful eye. But I honestly couldn't take it and made an excuse about having to get back to studying and left. My father told him shortly after, he described the scene to me as this:
BTW, I NEVER cry, unless I'm angry... :)
I grew up with a very close family. I love my parents (yes, even my overbearing mother) and I love my grandparents (I call them mom and dad). They have and will always be the closest things to me. To lose someone that close scares the shit out of me. Due to his age and etc, apparently his treatment isn't too bad - but I don't trust anything the family says until I can see his medical records and figure out the grade of the cancer and etc.
He's given me access to his medical records but... I just can't bring myself to sort through it. I keep using my boards as an excuse. I have too much stuff to review, too little hours in a day, I need to meet so and so, fix something, anything so that I don't have to sit down and figure things out.
Regardless, this is my post to myself telling myself my grandfather has cancer, that he is strong, that he willl fight through it, and no matter what weird dreams say he will not die anytime soon, and that everything will be ok.
PSA is the antigen used in screening for prostate hyperplasia or carcinoma. In normal talk when someone's PSA is elevated that means either the person just has a big prostate (that should be carefully watched) or cancer. Anything more than 4 means an enlarged prostate with a chance of carcinoma, anything above 10 has a 50% chance of being cancer.
My grandmother has been very sick for some time. She's been in and out of the hospital, and even had a scary trip to the ICU while I was in basics. My grandfather has retired and where he use to have her waiting on him (she was sooooooo cute the way she'd plan out his day, have food waiting for him, doing his laundry) he is now running the house.
They had/have the perfect marriage, perfectly happy in their roles. She stayed home, cooked, cleaned, never even had a drivers license, he took care of everything outside of that. He has never once complained the role reversal, of her being sick, of having to dress her, has learned to cook (after watching her for 60 some years) and listens to her nagging while he fumbles to organize the millions of pills he has to give her for her heart.
We have never questioned whether he could survive without her. I dreading her death have distanced myself. Writing about this, and even thinking it usually brings upon tears (which is no bueno in the library while I'm studying for boards... but procrastination is a bitch) which I push away by what? not thinking about it. But about a month ago I had a nightmare while spending the night at navy's house:
Navy: "WAKE UP!"
Me: *grumble* "whaaaaatrudoing"
Navy: "You're crying"
Me: *snuggle*
Navy: "You ok?"
Me: *groggy* "Grampather..."
I don't remember this interaction. He told me about it when he e mailed me from work the next day, I do however remember the dream:
Some man (who was not my real grandfather) told me and my cousins (who were not my real cousins) he was going to die. I started bawling as he started giving valuables to my cousins, in turn not giving me anything. He looked at me and told me I already had my present and pointed to a old watch on my arm - at which point I think navy woke me up.(I keep having to pause because I'm crying so if this blog doesn't have it's normal fluidity I'm sorry)
The next morning I get a message from my mother: "Call me ASAP"
I call her back during a study break and tell her about my dream. She sits there quietly and tells me my grandfather has prostate cancer, and that he's gifting me with his restaurant. Then she proceeds to ask me everything I know about it. I ask the usual questions trying to figure out it's severity and kick in doctor mode. I made her think it wasn't as bad as it was presenting her with the facts. He's over 80, if it hasn't metastasized it's not that bad, blah blah. Then I hung up the phone, and cried.
I cried all day, and then I stopped - and never thought about it again.
Except for the weekend when we went to tell him at his house.
I was FUMING. HOW DARE THE DOCTOR BREACH CONFIDENTIALITY AND EXPECT HIS FAMILY TO TELL HIM. The doctor had told my aunt, who told my father she wasn't going to tell him, to which my father turned around and told my grandfather. I went with the family that weekend and ate the lunch my grandfather had prepared under my grandmothers watchful eye. But I honestly couldn't take it and made an excuse about having to get back to studying and left. My father told him shortly after, he described the scene to me as this:
I went to the kitchen while we were cleaning up and told him softly. He just nodded his head and told me not to tell your grandmother.This of course had me in tears again because of how brave he was trying to be, he was scared if my grandmother knew she'd give up. If he died she would be sure to die.
BTW, I NEVER cry, unless I'm angry... :)
I grew up with a very close family. I love my parents (yes, even my overbearing mother) and I love my grandparents (I call them mom and dad). They have and will always be the closest things to me. To lose someone that close scares the shit out of me. Due to his age and etc, apparently his treatment isn't too bad - but I don't trust anything the family says until I can see his medical records and figure out the grade of the cancer and etc.
He's given me access to his medical records but... I just can't bring myself to sort through it. I keep using my boards as an excuse. I have too much stuff to review, too little hours in a day, I need to meet so and so, fix something, anything so that I don't have to sit down and figure things out.
Regardless, this is my post to myself telling myself my grandfather has cancer, that he is strong, that he willl fight through it, and no matter what weird dreams say he will not die anytime soon, and that everything will be ok.
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Voldemort
My roommate is 30. She's 30, has a very pretty face and big bones, and is single. No that doesn't mean she'd fat - because she'd not fat... she had big bones.
This means she's depressed and has no self confidence.
I didn't mind her in basic sciences, she kinda kept to herself and seemed to know her shit. That meant she'd be a good roomie right?
... right
Well when I got back to town, navy and I were still in that weird mode where I didn't know what to do with him, didn't want him touching me in public, and was debating if it was ok to give guys that asked my number. Unfortunately all these experiences were done while my roommate was around.
She would tell me how great navy was, if I looked nice that day, and etc. Then the compliments got weird... she would tell me how great I looked in jeans ("my ideal weightloss goal is to look like you in jeans!"), while walking around if a car honked or someone whistled she'd always mutter that it must be for me, and she wouldn't even speak to navy when he'd come up for the weekend.
She wanted a man - it was very clear that this was her only way to find happiness (and she couldn't stop talking about this ass she was dating during basics, and swore he worshipped her... *snicker*). So I found her one. I set her up with three different guys I knew.
One was ipod guy (he bought me an ipod and we'd only dated for 2 weeks) - his unhealthy jump into relationshipness made him a great candidate for my desperate for a relationship roomie.
Next was AW, who I've known since I was 13 and he was 19. I had the BIGGEST crush on him back then. He was smart, an english teacher, and... older.
Finally there was Voldemort who we collectively named later.
Anyway, I tried to set things up with ipod guy only to realize he was trying to make a play for me - and cut that out real quick. AW wasn't interested because he had a couple of girls he was already juggling and said my roomie was boring, and finally... voldemort, who recently broke up with a mutual friend 2 weeks prior, took the bait - and my roomie was out of my hair.
BUT WAIT!
Apparently Voldemort has a little anger problem, and when going back to his old apartment (after already beginning his proceedings with roomie) decides that he's going to call his ex-live-in-girlfriend all types of names, which makes my best friend jump in tell him to back off, and ends with my best friend being shoved against the wall at such a force that she (2 months later) still has signs of inflammation on her knee and elbow, and a scar from the corner she hit on her neck. *breath* (if that isn't a run on, i don't know what is).
Technicalities of the encounter included the fact that my best friend shoved him first... but she was still pretty beat up from a shove he gave back to her and will have a nasty scar on her neck for a very very long time.
Anyway, I tell my roomie this little encounter, but since they've been talking for a whopping 4 days, she's already completely in love and doesn't care. I take myself out of the situation and stay neutral. Best friend hates him, roomie fucking him, no bueno.
Anyway, while they were together she was fine to live with. She was always on the phone with him at night, the weird comments regarding how I looked stopping, and it wasn't weird when navy would come up to visit because either her man would be there, or she'd be down in DC at his place.
Here's the problem: On friday he dumped her.
UGGGGGGGGGGGH!
Apparently she was too controlling and got jealous of him hanging out with his friends or something. I DON'T CARE, he's crazier than her and the fact that he even got (especially while he was going through all this BS with shoving my friend) her to deal with all his shenanigans was mind blowing.
Now I have to hear her talk about how much she misses him, and she gets all teary eyed at times, and oh yeah - one day we went to a concert and she starts bawling right in the middle of it because she and him and gone there once...
UGGGGGGGH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Not to mention she'd being very snappy, and I don't give a shit who you are - you don't snap at me for random reasons.
Things running through my head:
-You're 30 damn you, you should know better than to have let him get in so quickly!
-You're 30 damn you, stop acting like you're 19
-Stop crying
-Stop SNAPPING AT ME before I punch you
-Stop telling me how one time he stopped and kissed you at every single light post because you don't like PDA
-Stop asking if you're crazy
-Stop asking me to ask navy to ask him things
-Stop telling me that same stories over and over
-Stop reading me the e mails he's sent you
-Stop STOP STOP!!!!!!!!!!
All this has built up since sunday night. Yes that's right. I went home from visiting navy to her depression sunday night - I moved back into my parents last night. I think it was about 24 hours before I booked it. (lease is up in august anyway)
SHE WAS DRIVING ME CRAZY!
So I told her to start blogging. To re-read the shit she needs to deal with instead of telling people (me), and to suck it up and move on. I also told her that her little fantasy of him calling her and her denying him was probably never going to happen and put money down that if it did she'd take him back in a heartbeat. I told her she wasn't allowed to use his name anymore, and she made the harry potter reference ("he who shall not be named") = voldemort = funny... ha ha.
Anyhoo, keep a lookout for a break-up blog, it'll be good.
This means she's depressed and has no self confidence.
I didn't mind her in basic sciences, she kinda kept to herself and seemed to know her shit. That meant she'd be a good roomie right?
... right
Well when I got back to town, navy and I were still in that weird mode where I didn't know what to do with him, didn't want him touching me in public, and was debating if it was ok to give guys that asked my number. Unfortunately all these experiences were done while my roommate was around.
She would tell me how great navy was, if I looked nice that day, and etc. Then the compliments got weird... she would tell me how great I looked in jeans ("my ideal weightloss goal is to look like you in jeans!"), while walking around if a car honked or someone whistled she'd always mutter that it must be for me, and she wouldn't even speak to navy when he'd come up for the weekend.
She wanted a man - it was very clear that this was her only way to find happiness (and she couldn't stop talking about this ass she was dating during basics, and swore he worshipped her... *snicker*). So I found her one. I set her up with three different guys I knew.
One was ipod guy (he bought me an ipod and we'd only dated for 2 weeks) - his unhealthy jump into relationshipness made him a great candidate for my desperate for a relationship roomie.
Next was AW, who I've known since I was 13 and he was 19. I had the BIGGEST crush on him back then. He was smart, an english teacher, and... older.
Finally there was Voldemort who we collectively named later.
Anyway, I tried to set things up with ipod guy only to realize he was trying to make a play for me - and cut that out real quick. AW wasn't interested because he had a couple of girls he was already juggling and said my roomie was boring, and finally... voldemort, who recently broke up with a mutual friend 2 weeks prior, took the bait - and my roomie was out of my hair.
BUT WAIT!
Apparently Voldemort has a little anger problem, and when going back to his old apartment (after already beginning his proceedings with roomie) decides that he's going to call his ex-live-in-girlfriend all types of names, which makes my best friend jump in tell him to back off, and ends with my best friend being shoved against the wall at such a force that she (2 months later) still has signs of inflammation on her knee and elbow, and a scar from the corner she hit on her neck. *breath* (if that isn't a run on, i don't know what is).
Technicalities of the encounter included the fact that my best friend shoved him first... but she was still pretty beat up from a shove he gave back to her and will have a nasty scar on her neck for a very very long time.
Anyway, I tell my roomie this little encounter, but since they've been talking for a whopping 4 days, she's already completely in love and doesn't care. I take myself out of the situation and stay neutral. Best friend hates him, roomie fucking him, no bueno.
Anyway, while they were together she was fine to live with. She was always on the phone with him at night, the weird comments regarding how I looked stopping, and it wasn't weird when navy would come up to visit because either her man would be there, or she'd be down in DC at his place.
Here's the problem: On friday he dumped her.
UGGGGGGGGGGGH!
Apparently she was too controlling and got jealous of him hanging out with his friends or something. I DON'T CARE, he's crazier than her and the fact that he even got (especially while he was going through all this BS with shoving my friend) her to deal with all his shenanigans was mind blowing.
Now I have to hear her talk about how much she misses him, and she gets all teary eyed at times, and oh yeah - one day we went to a concert and she starts bawling right in the middle of it because she and him and gone there once...
UGGGGGGGH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Not to mention she'd being very snappy, and I don't give a shit who you are - you don't snap at me for random reasons.
Things running through my head:
-You're 30 damn you, you should know better than to have let him get in so quickly!
-You're 30 damn you, stop acting like you're 19
-Stop crying
-Stop SNAPPING AT ME before I punch you
-Stop telling me how one time he stopped and kissed you at every single light post because you don't like PDA
-Stop asking if you're crazy
-Stop asking me to ask navy to ask him things
-Stop telling me that same stories over and over
-Stop reading me the e mails he's sent you
-Stop STOP STOP!!!!!!!!!!
All this has built up since sunday night. Yes that's right. I went home from visiting navy to her depression sunday night - I moved back into my parents last night. I think it was about 24 hours before I booked it. (lease is up in august anyway)
SHE WAS DRIVING ME CRAZY!
So I told her to start blogging. To re-read the shit she needs to deal with instead of telling people (me), and to suck it up and move on. I also told her that her little fantasy of him calling her and her denying him was probably never going to happen and put money down that if it did she'd take him back in a heartbeat. I told her she wasn't allowed to use his name anymore, and she made the harry potter reference ("he who shall not be named") = voldemort = funny... ha ha.
Anyhoo, keep a lookout for a break-up blog, it'll be good.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Am I a horrible person?
Last night I went to walmart and due to many people's stupidness I was in line for a whopping 30 minutes. My definition of stupidness includes:
- Buying a year's worth of walmart gear at one time and checking out with roughly 3 carts that were overflowing, but price-checking almost everything to make sure it wasn't too expensive.
- Checking out a family with 3 cart's worth of gear and taking your sweet as time scanning everything while checking out things they're buying.
- Being the manager of a walmart knowing there's a line around THE FUCKING CORNER of people waiting for these dumbasses, and not opening extra registers.
- Hitting cash instead of debit on something or another that I didn't care to overhear and spend 15 minutes talking it out with the manager with employee's stopping by to see what happened WITHOUT OPENING ANOTHER REGISTER!!!
Regardless another register FINALLY opened, and I was one of the few who made a mad dash to make it there.
Now, throughout this very annoying and time consuming experience, there was a short very fat lady in front of me. She was obviously not very well off, missing a couple of teeth, and her cart consisted of a couple DVD's, crackerjacks, a CD and 2 packs of peanut-butter m&m's. She was also very obviously in distress because like the rest of us, she was standing in the FREAKING line for 30 minutes. So I struck up a conversation with her.
I've realized people decide who they can and can't talk to based on initial judgements. She seemed shocked that I was cracking jokes in her general direction, and tried to counter back by showing me the CD in her cart, asking if I'd ever heard of the random duo. "I haven't", I answered, "I usually download music on my ipod." "Oh," she muttered back "I don't have onna 'dem, only got me a por-ta-ble C-D player"
I ended up hopping lines one more time, and when I saw I was about to get to the front I went back to the old line and offered her the spot in front of me. She was grateful, then muttered something about hoping not to miss the bus.
Instantly my anti-beggar radar went off and I automatically thought she was trying to bum a ride from me. So I ducked my head cursing myself for being nice to her, and I didn't say anything as she got her things and left. I hightailed it out of there after I FINALLY CHECKED OUT THE 4 ITEMS I NEEDED TO BUY and jumped in my car hoping she wouldn't somehow see me and ask me for a ride back into the city.
But then I saw this while driving out of the parking lot:
She had taken her cart and was using it for support to make it to the end of the parking lot. Then she stopped short, put the cart in it's designated position and continued walking (obviously in a lot of pain, and she was so fat she kind of waddled - making even walking look painful). I realized she'd never intended to ask me for any type of hand out, she was just venting like we'd been doing earlier.
So I rethought my initial judgement and started debating if I should slow down and offer her a ride. Then I thought this and realize I am, indeed, a horrible person:
"With her BMI as high as it is, I'm sure walking would be better for her than me picking her up and driving her back into the city."
...then I felt like shit again and couldn't stop thinking about it.
GAH!
- Buying a year's worth of walmart gear at one time and checking out with roughly 3 carts that were overflowing, but price-checking almost everything to make sure it wasn't too expensive.
- Checking out a family with 3 cart's worth of gear and taking your sweet as time scanning everything while checking out things they're buying.
- Being the manager of a walmart knowing there's a line around THE FUCKING CORNER of people waiting for these dumbasses, and not opening extra registers.
- Hitting cash instead of debit on something or another that I didn't care to overhear and spend 15 minutes talking it out with the manager with employee's stopping by to see what happened WITHOUT OPENING ANOTHER REGISTER!!!
Regardless another register FINALLY opened, and I was one of the few who made a mad dash to make it there.
Now, throughout this very annoying and time consuming experience, there was a short very fat lady in front of me. She was obviously not very well off, missing a couple of teeth, and her cart consisted of a couple DVD's, crackerjacks, a CD and 2 packs of peanut-butter m&m's. She was also very obviously in distress because like the rest of us, she was standing in the FREAKING line for 30 minutes. So I struck up a conversation with her.
I've realized people decide who they can and can't talk to based on initial judgements. She seemed shocked that I was cracking jokes in her general direction, and tried to counter back by showing me the CD in her cart, asking if I'd ever heard of the random duo. "I haven't", I answered, "I usually download music on my ipod." "Oh," she muttered back "I don't have onna 'dem, only got me a por-ta-ble C-D player"
I ended up hopping lines one more time, and when I saw I was about to get to the front I went back to the old line and offered her the spot in front of me. She was grateful, then muttered something about hoping not to miss the bus.
Instantly my anti-beggar radar went off and I automatically thought she was trying to bum a ride from me. So I ducked my head cursing myself for being nice to her, and I didn't say anything as she got her things and left. I hightailed it out of there after I FINALLY CHECKED OUT THE 4 ITEMS I NEEDED TO BUY and jumped in my car hoping she wouldn't somehow see me and ask me for a ride back into the city.
But then I saw this while driving out of the parking lot:
She had taken her cart and was using it for support to make it to the end of the parking lot. Then she stopped short, put the cart in it's designated position and continued walking (obviously in a lot of pain, and she was so fat she kind of waddled - making even walking look painful). I realized she'd never intended to ask me for any type of hand out, she was just venting like we'd been doing earlier.
So I rethought my initial judgement and started debating if I should slow down and offer her a ride. Then I thought this and realize I am, indeed, a horrible person:
"With her BMI as high as it is, I'm sure walking would be better for her than me picking her up and driving her back into the city."
...then I felt like shit again and couldn't stop thinking about it.
GAH!
Monday, July 9, 2007
Alli - Day 1
Since coming back to the states I have gained a whopping 10 pounds. Granted, I have been going to the gym, everyone around me tells me they can't tell (my mother says my face is rounder and you can see it around my butt), and navy lectures me telling me I should know muscle weighs more than fat, but non the less it's starting to get to me.
My theories on the recent weight gain:
- I started birth control again, because my body needed to be put back on a normal cycle after that horrible depo shock (never ever ever ever get a depo shot, they make you go crazy!)
- The hormones in the food here are different (I BARELY eat compared to out of country, what the hell)
- MAYBE, it's muscle... maybe...
Anyhoo, I'd still like to be toned and that requires a loss in mass.
SO! Recent news told me orlistat was on the market. A drug that I have learned about, and know first hand is prescribed to fat people (no offense) in hospitals. YAY!
Technically you're not supposed to take the drug if you're not overweight... which... I'm not, BUT I feel that they're just saying that so people who are anorexic won't take it.
Therefore, yesterday was my first day (even though I made this day one)
I bought the starter kit for a whopping 60 bucks (90 pills - 60 mg) which came along with a ton of things like:
1. Keys to successful weight loss (everything we already know)
2. Welcome guide (everything we get, and online support)
3. Portable quick fact pocket guide (nothing special)
4. Companion Guide (goals, dosage, use, side effect)
5. Healthy eating guide
6. Calorie and fat counter
7. Daily journal
Anyway - it's stuff I already know, but then again, I do want to tone up and lose this 10 pound excess that has started to cling to me if not more. Side effects are gross and include oilish discharge and uncontrollable bowel, but that's only for people who chow down on really greasy meals with loads of fat. HELLO CAPTAIN OBVIOUS!
Anyhoo, I'm not going to turn my blog into a weight-loss blog, but I'll tune in every now and again if:
- I see no difference in weight while exercising and etc.
- I have any side effects to note
- If I think it's working.
Goal: get back down to my weight in sophmore year of college.
Ready, set, GO!
For more info on alli, you can go to their website or read this little doosy: clicky
My theories on the recent weight gain:
- I started birth control again, because my body needed to be put back on a normal cycle after that horrible depo shock (never ever ever ever get a depo shot, they make you go crazy!)
- The hormones in the food here are different (I BARELY eat compared to out of country, what the hell)
- MAYBE, it's muscle... maybe...
Anyhoo, I'd still like to be toned and that requires a loss in mass.
SO! Recent news told me orlistat was on the market. A drug that I have learned about, and know first hand is prescribed to fat people (no offense) in hospitals. YAY!
Technically you're not supposed to take the drug if you're not overweight... which... I'm not, BUT I feel that they're just saying that so people who are anorexic won't take it.
Therefore, yesterday was my first day (even though I made this day one)
I bought the starter kit for a whopping 60 bucks (90 pills - 60 mg) which came along with a ton of things like:
1. Keys to successful weight loss (everything we already know)
2. Welcome guide (everything we get, and online support)
3. Portable quick fact pocket guide (nothing special)
4. Companion Guide (goals, dosage, use, side effect)
5. Healthy eating guide
6. Calorie and fat counter
7. Daily journal
Anyway - it's stuff I already know, but then again, I do want to tone up and lose this 10 pound excess that has started to cling to me if not more. Side effects are gross and include oilish discharge and uncontrollable bowel, but that's only for people who chow down on really greasy meals with loads of fat. HELLO CAPTAIN OBVIOUS!
Anyhoo, I'm not going to turn my blog into a weight-loss blog, but I'll tune in every now and again if:
- I see no difference in weight while exercising and etc.
- I have any side effects to note
- If I think it's working.
Goal: get back down to my weight in sophmore year of college.
Ready, set, GO!
For more info on alli, you can go to their website or read this little doosy: clicky
Sunday, July 1, 2007
Move over Beckham
Though my infatuation with David Beckham is quite apparent (well maybe not so much on this blog, but take my word for it), navy's obsession with baseball has introduced me to another hottie that makes me drool whenever I see him.
Navy doesn't seem to mind my drooling, as long as I attend and watch games with him -- but as
he sat next to me today watching me prowl google he kept muttering "you can have him as your screen saver only if he's wearing an indian's jersey." I just laughed it off and kept showing him hot photo's of my new main man.
Grady Sizemore - hubba hubba.Now for your enjoyment are photo's I've stolen from other sites showing is amazing hotness. Enjoy. (I am)
.
.
.
Thursday, June 28, 2007
When it rains, it pours...
It's time for people I've stopped speaking to over the years to attempt to talk to me. There's a back story to this that would take WAAAAAAAAAAAAY too long to explain for those new to this blog, but for those of you who've stalked your way to my new blog - I'm sure you'll understand all to well.
Anyhoo - it first started with the exboyfriend storm. Some guy I dated about a year and a half ago, and another that I dated over 3 years ago (he was a major boyfriend, unlike the first one) decided to e mail me within 3 days and strike up some kind of... kinship?
I dunno, I gave both pleasantly cold responses that basically said, hi, thanks for contacting, next time I'll contact YOU --- annnd haven't talked to either since.
Now this goes off the previous post - but I reacquainted with dreamboy, this past weekend, and today I get this message from fatboy:
It came from a random myspace, with a fake name, and no picture - but it wasn't hard to figure out it was fatboy.
Who is fatboy you ask?
When I broke up with my most recent major boyfriend (yes it was 3 years ago) he was the mutual friend that I ended up finding out later -- wanted to fuck me. I was nice to him because he was my connection to the ex (though he volunteered no info other than to tell me that the ex always told him how good i was in bed - which made me very uncomfortable) and he was nice to me because he --- wanted to fuck me.
So after 6 months of trying to get with me (god I was naive), he finds some other girl at a country concert and plays the "you're jealous" card, and proceeds to piss me off with his deflection to the point where I just stop speaking to him. He was fat, ugly, and quite obviously not my type (I thought he was too old and annoying).
Anyway, I didn't really care about the ended friendship because I was busy pimping myself out and trying not to care that my exboyfriend left me for a 19 year old blonde bimbo in california.
The e mail amused me... but I wrote back because I, for one, have a lot of pride - and there's no way in hell I'd ever contact a person after the shit I said to him the night I realized what had been happening.
So I wrote back this:
I think I was nice, yet cold at the same time. I hope he doesn't try to see me... because he's seriously not my kind of people.
I have a feeling I'll regret this.
Anyhoo - it first started with the exboyfriend storm. Some guy I dated about a year and a half ago, and another that I dated over 3 years ago (he was a major boyfriend, unlike the first one) decided to e mail me within 3 days and strike up some kind of... kinship?
I dunno, I gave both pleasantly cold responses that basically said, hi, thanks for contacting, next time I'll contact YOU --- annnd haven't talked to either since.
Now this goes off the previous post - but I reacquainted with dreamboy, this past weekend, and today I get this message from fatboy:
Title: HOLD ON!!!
Body:
Don't delete...yet? Yes, this is the [name] that you once knew before you went to Med School. Yes, I have been following you, not stalking, just wondering what you were up to ha ha
Big craziness happened and I would love to fill you in some day. i figured, why not a drink after the craziness ended. I have a whole plethura of stories that will be written, i just have to find the perfect website developer, hint hint j/k.
If you want to B.S. and catch up on old times, you have my number. I think?
It came from a random myspace, with a fake name, and no picture - but it wasn't hard to figure out it was fatboy.
Who is fatboy you ask?
When I broke up with my most recent major boyfriend (yes it was 3 years ago) he was the mutual friend that I ended up finding out later -- wanted to fuck me. I was nice to him because he was my connection to the ex (though he volunteered no info other than to tell me that the ex always told him how good i was in bed - which made me very uncomfortable) and he was nice to me because he --- wanted to fuck me.
So after 6 months of trying to get with me (god I was naive), he finds some other girl at a country concert and plays the "you're jealous" card, and proceeds to piss me off with his deflection to the point where I just stop speaking to him. He was fat, ugly, and quite obviously not my type (I thought he was too old and annoying).
Anyway, I didn't really care about the ended friendship because I was busy pimping myself out and trying not to care that my exboyfriend left me for a 19 year old blonde bimbo in california.
The e mail amused me... but I wrote back because I, for one, have a lot of pride - and there's no way in hell I'd ever contact a person after the shit I said to him the night I realized what had been happening.
So I wrote back this:
Hi [name],
It's good hearing from you, I would ask why you have a blank myspace with a fake name, but I'm assuming that goes along with the craziness you were talking about in your e mail.
I left the country and traveled for a bit - so all my old numbers are gone. I'm on a pretty hectic schedule with the hospital anyway so I probably would be no fun to talk to between work, homework, gym and other shenanigans.
Hope all is well
[me]
I think I was nice, yet cold at the same time. I hope he doesn't try to see me... because he's seriously not my kind of people.
I have a feeling I'll regret this.
Monday, June 25, 2007
No soup for you.
When I was a freshman in college I had a huge crush on a guy in my university class. He was tall, blond, and gorgeous. He wanted to be a plastic surgeon and thought the class was a joke. I was the nerd who took it seriously, and would try to get his attention by being vocal in class.
The next semester we had biology together, it changed from me passing him and saying hi to him (he later told me he thought I was REALLY annoying) to me sitting next to him - I was such a stalker. We still never spoke, and I still had a huge crush. I vowed to get his attention.
Sophmore year, we had more sciences together. We were in organic together. This was the year I started to grow up a little. Freshman year... I had no confidence, a high school sweetheart I was breaking up with, and I lived at home. Sophmore year I joined the "hottest" sorority on campus, ("Wow, they think I'm pretty enough to get in!"), had boys asking me out, and moved out of the parents house. I had an pinning party one night and invited him out. Soon we started studying together and going to parties together. I would stay out late and start falling asleep in class only to wake up with drool on my face and him doodling stupid cartoons on my notes laughing about the stupid things I had done while drunk. He told me about his life during our all night study sessions and then informed me he had joined the armed forces... two weeks later 911 happened.
I freaked out a little, I had been infatuated with him from over a year now, and somehow before he left for bootcamp it all came together and my dreams came true. We made out and cuddled, and then he left.
I was hopelessly in love. I wrote him all the time, and would check the mail for his bootcamp letters (I still have them) telling me about all his shenanigans. The first ones told me he missed home, the last ones were more cold and rigid. By the time I saw him again between the break, it wasn't the same - but he was still my dreamboy.
He left for training, and would call me every saturday from a pay phone drunk(this is before the whole cell phone thing). By this time I had finished my sophomore year and was working in a restaurant to pay off my car, and my school. He would call before leaving for the club, I of course thought it was because we were in some way together, even though we weren't. I never kissed any other boys, I thought it might mess up my chances with my dreamboy -- god I was so naive.
He came back the beginning of junior year, and it was horrible. He didn't pay attention to me, and was... mean. By mean I don't mean mean to me - I mean he had gained 50 pounds of muscle, shaved his head, and would constantly start fights at parties I took him to. He would stare people down and act like he didn't care about a soul in the world. I didn't like him much anymore - but when he'd get drunk and we'd talk, I'd convince myself that he was still there. I made it my mission to take him everywhere with me, I was his only friend in college left, I would bring the old him back.
We took most of our electives together, but where as I moved on to harder classes, he resumed his sophomore semester. I still found it difficult to talk to him, as he was pessimistic and bitter -- so one day I sat down and wrote him a letter expressing every deep dark emotion I'd ever had for him. After holding on to it for two weeks I shoved it into his hand when he dropped me off and ran away. He never really mentioned it, and we practically stopped talking - unless it was for an assignment. Then he told me he was leaving for Iraq, and again, I freaked out.
He left the day after his 21st birthday. We threw him a surprise birthday party, and I paid a fraternity boy for the case of beer we got him. I made him a cake, he gave me his cover, and I cried.
Then he left, and I sat there heartbroken telling myself that one day - ONE DAY - he was going to want me, and he wouldn't be able to have me. I built myself up saying that I didn't need someone who didn't appreciate me. (*can I just jump in here now and say, DAMN I WAS SUCH A WHINER WITH NO SELF CONFIDENCE!!! UGH, SO ANNOYING!*)
Flash forward till today. He came back, and by that time I was dating the psycho. Dreamboy dated many of my sorority sisters (sorry, slept with, not dated) and crash on my couch for a year (yes, it was supposed to only be a month). By the end of our little stint we had begun to hate each other. I graduated college, and he was still in sophmore standing. We didn't speak for 3 years, and somehow, while I was out of country we built up communication again.
He's leaving for Iraq again - and decided he would come up to see me. Friday night we went out. He looked just like he did when I first met him. No shaven head, no huge muscles, no meanness, he just had his quirky humor and some beer. It was awkward at first, but after the first couple of beers we ended up having a good night. By the time we'd called each other out about our little fight and made amends - I was exhausted. I brought him out blankets and headed to my bed to pass out for the 3 hours I had before getting up to go to work.
He comes into my room to say good night, leaned over my bed for the hug, goes to kiss the cheek and... stays... lingering... "BAAD NO NO NO BAD BAD BAD BAD" was all I could really say, with him whispering, "I know I know" before leaning back in to try to kiss me, "NOOOO NO NO NO REALLY REALLY BAD, BAD BAD BAD BAD."
...
THE MOTHER FUCKER TRIES TO GET BACK WITH ME.
After the initial bad's and no's, he ended up bringing his blanket into my room and tried to start some kind of conversation with me while setting up shop on the floor. I think I fell asleep somewhere in the convo where he was telling me about how he missed me, and though I don't remember the specifics, it dealt with me always being there for him and how he always thought we'd end up together.
I still think he's my dream boy - but damn, when the whole turning them down after they've broken your heart thing happens, YOU WANT IT TO HAPPEN WHEN YOU CAN ENJOY IT.
Now I just feel bad... oops.
The next semester we had biology together, it changed from me passing him and saying hi to him (he later told me he thought I was REALLY annoying) to me sitting next to him - I was such a stalker. We still never spoke, and I still had a huge crush. I vowed to get his attention.
Sophmore year, we had more sciences together. We were in organic together. This was the year I started to grow up a little. Freshman year... I had no confidence, a high school sweetheart I was breaking up with, and I lived at home. Sophmore year I joined the "hottest" sorority on campus, ("Wow, they think I'm pretty enough to get in!"), had boys asking me out, and moved out of the parents house. I had an pinning party one night and invited him out. Soon we started studying together and going to parties together. I would stay out late and start falling asleep in class only to wake up with drool on my face and him doodling stupid cartoons on my notes laughing about the stupid things I had done while drunk. He told me about his life during our all night study sessions and then informed me he had joined the armed forces... two weeks later 911 happened.
I freaked out a little, I had been infatuated with him from over a year now, and somehow before he left for bootcamp it all came together and my dreams came true. We made out and cuddled, and then he left.
I was hopelessly in love. I wrote him all the time, and would check the mail for his bootcamp letters (I still have them) telling me about all his shenanigans. The first ones told me he missed home, the last ones were more cold and rigid. By the time I saw him again between the break, it wasn't the same - but he was still my dreamboy.
He left for training, and would call me every saturday from a pay phone drunk(this is before the whole cell phone thing). By this time I had finished my sophomore year and was working in a restaurant to pay off my car, and my school. He would call before leaving for the club, I of course thought it was because we were in some way together, even though we weren't. I never kissed any other boys, I thought it might mess up my chances with my dreamboy -- god I was so naive.
He came back the beginning of junior year, and it was horrible. He didn't pay attention to me, and was... mean. By mean I don't mean mean to me - I mean he had gained 50 pounds of muscle, shaved his head, and would constantly start fights at parties I took him to. He would stare people down and act like he didn't care about a soul in the world. I didn't like him much anymore - but when he'd get drunk and we'd talk, I'd convince myself that he was still there. I made it my mission to take him everywhere with me, I was his only friend in college left, I would bring the old him back.
We took most of our electives together, but where as I moved on to harder classes, he resumed his sophomore semester. I still found it difficult to talk to him, as he was pessimistic and bitter -- so one day I sat down and wrote him a letter expressing every deep dark emotion I'd ever had for him. After holding on to it for two weeks I shoved it into his hand when he dropped me off and ran away. He never really mentioned it, and we practically stopped talking - unless it was for an assignment. Then he told me he was leaving for Iraq, and again, I freaked out.
He left the day after his 21st birthday. We threw him a surprise birthday party, and I paid a fraternity boy for the case of beer we got him. I made him a cake, he gave me his cover, and I cried.
Then he left, and I sat there heartbroken telling myself that one day - ONE DAY - he was going to want me, and he wouldn't be able to have me. I built myself up saying that I didn't need someone who didn't appreciate me. (*can I just jump in here now and say, DAMN I WAS SUCH A WHINER WITH NO SELF CONFIDENCE!!! UGH, SO ANNOYING!*)
Flash forward till today. He came back, and by that time I was dating the psycho. Dreamboy dated many of my sorority sisters (sorry, slept with, not dated) and crash on my couch for a year (yes, it was supposed to only be a month). By the end of our little stint we had begun to hate each other. I graduated college, and he was still in sophmore standing. We didn't speak for 3 years, and somehow, while I was out of country we built up communication again.
He's leaving for Iraq again - and decided he would come up to see me. Friday night we went out. He looked just like he did when I first met him. No shaven head, no huge muscles, no meanness, he just had his quirky humor and some beer. It was awkward at first, but after the first couple of beers we ended up having a good night. By the time we'd called each other out about our little fight and made amends - I was exhausted. I brought him out blankets and headed to my bed to pass out for the 3 hours I had before getting up to go to work.
He comes into my room to say good night, leaned over my bed for the hug, goes to kiss the cheek and... stays... lingering... "BAAD NO NO NO BAD BAD BAD BAD" was all I could really say, with him whispering, "I know I know" before leaning back in to try to kiss me, "NOOOO NO NO NO REALLY REALLY BAD, BAD BAD BAD BAD."
...
THE MOTHER FUCKER TRIES TO GET BACK WITH ME.
After the initial bad's and no's, he ended up bringing his blanket into my room and tried to start some kind of conversation with me while setting up shop on the floor. I think I fell asleep somewhere in the convo where he was telling me about how he missed me, and though I don't remember the specifics, it dealt with me always being there for him and how he always thought we'd end up together.
I still think he's my dream boy - but damn, when the whole turning them down after they've broken your heart thing happens, YOU WANT IT TO HAPPEN WHEN YOU CAN ENJOY IT.
Now I just feel bad... oops.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Things not to do in order to get a woman's attention
1. Make horribly loud kissy noises as she walks by, so loud that she can hear through her ipod music.
2. Make a beeline for her while walking by and leaning in muttering "SEXY" in a nasty deep throated voice.
3. Stare at her, blatantly STARE, at a crosswalk, so that she can feel your gaze until the godforsaken walk light turns on and she can get away from your creepy ass.
4. Stare at her, and when she finally looks in your direction make a nasty movement with your tongue (ugh, that's the worst! GROSS GROSS GROSS)
5. Whistle.
All of the above mentioned occurred yesterday on my walk home from the gym. I was beet red in the face, sweaty, and BLARING my ipod music. It was by far the most I've ever drawn only the attention of nasty, disgusting, GROSS men who thought the above mentioned techniques were appropriate. I mean really, do they think they're going to make that tongue gesture and I'm going to run over there and sit on their face? DISGUSTING!!!
I'm so grossed out right now.
Then I got a lecture from navy when I got home about walking to the gym alone, and needing a mace... *groan*
I'm going to take a self defense class.
Thursday, June 7, 2007
Spiderman's got nothing on me
The other morning I wake up with my dog clawing my arm wimpering to go out. When he was a puppy I loved his ears, they were big, floppy, and omg soft. Now with him hovering over my face pawing, I wanted to grab him and play helicopter to see how far I could tote him away from me...
None the less, I groggily got up picked out work clothes through squinted eyes and sauntered over to the door to get his leash and take him out.
*side note* By the door we have the key stand. This is to place keys on so that they're easily accessible when you want to leave. My door is one of those annoying "always unlocked but you don't know if it's locked outside" doors.
(see where I'm going with this? Back to being groggy)
So I (in full work clothes and slippers) go to the door, look at my keys, and slam the door shut before my brain tells me to grab them.
Shit.
Immediate thought? Try door...
Locked.
SHIT.
I am now standing outside of my door with a whining pulling dog who needs to pee, without phone, key, or a number memorized to help me get back in. Oh yeah, did I mention I haven't told my landlord about my dog yet?... whoops.
Then I remember we left a window open in the living room.
YAAAAAAAAAAY, I'm saved!
Problem is, I live on the second floor... ok, plan B --- there's a fire escape I can climb...
YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY! I'm saved!!!
So I, content with this plan, take my doggie downstairs to pee, and carefully leave the front door open so I can get back in. While letting doggie roam in his favorite pee spot, I scout the perfect branch to help me knock down the fire escape. Plan B consists of knocking lever, stairs falling, me climbing.
So I head back to the door and start whacking (yes I did jump up and down while doing it) with all my might. But doggie was being a little brat and he was still tugging, so I was technically doing it one handed. So I took the loop of his leash, and looped it on some hook on the building.
This brought along plan C. After whacking a little bit (ok a lot bit) and realizing it wasn't working, I brilliantly devised a plan that would loop my dog's leash on the lever so that I may pull it with all my might, causing the stairs to fall, so that I may climb, and break into my living room window.
Problem: Doggie is attached to leash, and is a frequent runner when set loose.
I decide to stick him in the apt. building, and so I could make sure I didn't get locked out - I would pull the carpet over to the door to make sure it didn't shut all the way.
BRILLIANT!
So I take doggie inside, unclip him, and move carpet. It's all moving according to plan. Now -- before I go on, doggie is a very smart dog. He can find a way out of anything. He also has separation anxiety, and will stop at nothing to get to me if I'm nearby. --- So while closing the door behind me, to make sure he doesn't get out... I PULL THE DOOR AS TIGHT AS POSSIBLE TO MAKE SURE ITS CLOSED!
ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!
Upon realizing this mistake, my instant thought: Try door
Locked
SHIT!!!
Now the puppy that no one knows i have is on the other side yelping and digging trying to get to me, and I'm on the other side in work clothes, slippers, and a leash with no dog.
*groan*
It's ok, on with the plan.
After a few lasso attempts, I hook the lever (YAY!) I tug a lot and it gets loose (YAY!) I tug some more and pull it free (YAAAAAAAAAAAAY!) Stairs start falling (YAY!) too fast (uh oh) *CRASH*
SHIT.
Then stairs start moving back up to the side (SHIT SHIT SHIT)
So I make a flying leap, to catch the stairs, I need to climb, after pulling the lever, so that I may break into my living room window.
I catch the stairs, take a deep breath, and start climbing.
Eventually I make it to my apartment, I unhinge the window, move our pet goldfish bernadette (who has thyrotoxicosis and the bulging eyes to go with it) and climb my way in. I run to the door to run downstairs and grab doggie --- only to find him sitting in front of the door with his tail wagging.
Little shit.
I grab the phone and call work to tell them I'm going to be late.
I look back at the room.
The screen is unhooked, the fire escape is down - and I'm pretty sure the whole neighborhood has seen me in my work clothes and slippers thinking I'm some sort of hoodlum trying to break in.
So I open our fire escape window and go back out to fix my mess. (doggie starts barking at momma to come back in because she's too far away)
I fix the screen and make my way over to the fire escape to push the lever back into place, that allowed me to climb the stairs, to my apartment, and break into my living room window. Easy, right?
So I position myself (still in work clothes, and slippers) grab the stairs, and pull.
OOOOOOOOOOOW!!!
THIS SHIT WILL NOT COME BACK UP!
SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT
but wait!
The stairs have a counter lever platform. If I can get on that, and push it down, while pulling the lever to hold the stairs into place, I'm golden! However, this requires me to bend my body in very unnatural angles THROUGH the stairs while still grappling the railing and controlling the lever.
I try anyway.
After 10 minutes of karma sutra, yoga, whatever the hell it is people in the circus do that bends their bodies into extended unnatural shapes - I mustered enough of my body onto the platform, to lift the stairs, so that I may push the lever into place.
it took 5 minutes to get my body out of the position i put it in to get pressure on that damn platform, but I hike it back through my window, quiet my dog, put my hair in a ponytail and rush out of my house --- only to make it to work 10 minutes early, looking like shit, with a grease stain on my shirt.
BUT I had my keys in hand, cell phone, and I beat it before the other intern. TAKE THAT SPIDERMAN!
None the less, I groggily got up picked out work clothes through squinted eyes and sauntered over to the door to get his leash and take him out.
*side note* By the door we have the key stand. This is to place keys on so that they're easily accessible when you want to leave. My door is one of those annoying "always unlocked but you don't know if it's locked outside" doors.
(see where I'm going with this? Back to being groggy)
So I (in full work clothes and slippers) go to the door, look at my keys, and slam the door shut before my brain tells me to grab them.
Shit.
Immediate thought? Try door...
Locked.
SHIT.
I am now standing outside of my door with a whining pulling dog who needs to pee, without phone, key, or a number memorized to help me get back in. Oh yeah, did I mention I haven't told my landlord about my dog yet?... whoops.
Then I remember we left a window open in the living room.
YAAAAAAAAAAY, I'm saved!
Problem is, I live on the second floor... ok, plan B --- there's a fire escape I can climb...
YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY! I'm saved!!!
So I, content with this plan, take my doggie downstairs to pee, and carefully leave the front door open so I can get back in. While letting doggie roam in his favorite pee spot, I scout the perfect branch to help me knock down the fire escape. Plan B consists of knocking lever, stairs falling, me climbing.
So I head back to the door and start whacking (yes I did jump up and down while doing it) with all my might. But doggie was being a little brat and he was still tugging, so I was technically doing it one handed. So I took the loop of his leash, and looped it on some hook on the building.
This brought along plan C. After whacking a little bit (ok a lot bit) and realizing it wasn't working, I brilliantly devised a plan that would loop my dog's leash on the lever so that I may pull it with all my might, causing the stairs to fall, so that I may climb, and break into my living room window.
Problem: Doggie is attached to leash, and is a frequent runner when set loose.
I decide to stick him in the apt. building, and so I could make sure I didn't get locked out - I would pull the carpet over to the door to make sure it didn't shut all the way.
BRILLIANT!
So I take doggie inside, unclip him, and move carpet. It's all moving according to plan. Now -- before I go on, doggie is a very smart dog. He can find a way out of anything. He also has separation anxiety, and will stop at nothing to get to me if I'm nearby. --- So while closing the door behind me, to make sure he doesn't get out... I PULL THE DOOR AS TIGHT AS POSSIBLE TO MAKE SURE ITS CLOSED!
ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!
Upon realizing this mistake, my instant thought: Try door
Locked
SHIT!!!
Now the puppy that no one knows i have is on the other side yelping and digging trying to get to me, and I'm on the other side in work clothes, slippers, and a leash with no dog.*groan*
It's ok, on with the plan.
After a few lasso attempts, I hook the lever (YAY!) I tug a lot and it gets loose (YAY!) I tug some more and pull it free (YAAAAAAAAAAAAY!) Stairs start falling (YAY!) too fast (uh oh) *CRASH*
SHIT.
Then stairs start moving back up to the side (SHIT SHIT SHIT)
So I make a flying leap, to catch the stairs, I need to climb, after pulling the lever, so that I may break into my living room window.
I catch the stairs, take a deep breath, and start climbing.
Eventually I make it to my apartment, I unhinge the window, move our pet goldfish bernadette (who has thyrotoxicosis and the bulging eyes to go with it) and climb my way in. I run to the door to run downstairs and grab doggie --- only to find him sitting in front of the door with his tail wagging.
Little shit.
I grab the phone and call work to tell them I'm going to be late.
I look back at the room.
The screen is unhooked, the fire escape is down - and I'm pretty sure the whole neighborhood has seen me in my work clothes and slippers thinking I'm some sort of hoodlum trying to break in.
So I open our fire escape window and go back out to fix my mess. (doggie starts barking at momma to come back in because she's too far away)
I fix the screen and make my way over to the fire escape to push the lever back into place, that allowed me to climb the stairs, to my apartment, and break into my living room window. Easy, right?
So I position myself (still in work clothes, and slippers) grab the stairs, and pull.
OOOOOOOOOOOW!!!
THIS SHIT WILL NOT COME BACK UP!
SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT
but wait!
The stairs have a counter lever platform. If I can get on that, and push it down, while pulling the lever to hold the stairs into place, I'm golden! However, this requires me to bend my body in very unnatural angles THROUGH the stairs while still grappling the railing and controlling the lever.
I try anyway.
After 10 minutes of karma sutra, yoga, whatever the hell it is people in the circus do that bends their bodies into extended unnatural shapes - I mustered enough of my body onto the platform, to lift the stairs, so that I may push the lever into place.
it took 5 minutes to get my body out of the position i put it in to get pressure on that damn platform, but I hike it back through my window, quiet my dog, put my hair in a ponytail and rush out of my house --- only to make it to work 10 minutes early, looking like shit, with a grease stain on my shirt.
BUT I had my keys in hand, cell phone, and I beat it before the other intern. TAKE THAT SPIDERMAN!
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
The first fight
So saaaaaaaaay I consider navy my boyfriend, and saaaaaaay we've been together since we first met, and saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay that in my weird world this all makes sense:
We had our first fight. (The first in 6 months)
In actuality this means I got mad at him - because god knows when he gets "upset" with me, I don't let him go 2 feet without spitting it out and calling him a big baby.
Anyhoo, the details aren't important - he was just being hypocritical and I brought it to his attention the night before he thought I was ignoring him. Due to some unfortunate incidents which involved my mother, an emergency room - and later my sister, and a prom dress - the baby thought I was ignoring him after calling him a hypocrite the night before.
This meant the turd decided to play stupid childish mind games that pissed me off. In return - I started ignoring him for real giving myself ample time to decide how to tell him to FUCK OFF. I.e. we (whatever I've decided "we" is) are done.
He ends up calling a couple of times, to which my roommate calls ME a baby and tells me to pick up. So I do, and navy met my anger:
Now I don't want to brag or anything but...
I'm scary.
And when I'm angry, I get insanely intellectual, I use big words, and I could probably debate the president and have him bowing to me in tears.
oh yeah, and sometimes I cry - I know I know but imagine this: Me. Angry. Sobbing
Navy ends up showing up with 2 cacti (cactus plural) annnnd a bouquet of flowers.
Though the point that I won the argument (which had him apologizing for hours after *insert evil laugh here*) is exciting, I am writing this to make another statement.
Through all the bullshit, and the stupidness of the fight - it helped me understand I like him, A LOT. The thought of ending it hurt, and the way he handled it was perfect - yay flowers.
I really like him - sometimes I feel like I love him, but that would be stupid.
I still refuse to call him my boyfriend.
The end.
We had our first fight. (The first in 6 months)
In actuality this means I got mad at him - because god knows when he gets "upset" with me, I don't let him go 2 feet without spitting it out and calling him a big baby.
Anyhoo, the details aren't important - he was just being hypocritical and I brought it to his attention the night before he thought I was ignoring him. Due to some unfortunate incidents which involved my mother, an emergency room - and later my sister, and a prom dress - the baby thought I was ignoring him after calling him a hypocrite the night before.
This meant the turd decided to play stupid childish mind games that pissed me off. In return - I started ignoring him for real giving myself ample time to decide how to tell him to FUCK OFF. I.e. we (whatever I've decided "we" is) are done.
He ends up calling a couple of times, to which my roommate calls ME a baby and tells me to pick up. So I do, and navy met my anger:
Me: "Navy I'd like you to meet someone"
Navy: "Oh really who?"
ANGRY ME: "@#$(@?#*$&@(#*$&@(#(&@*%&(@%^!"
Me: "I think she just made her own introduction"
ANGRY ME: "@^#%(&@^#."
*Navy quivering in fear*
Navy: "sorry sorry sorry sorry"
Now I don't want to brag or anything but...
I'm scary.
And when I'm angry, I get insanely intellectual, I use big words, and I could probably debate the president and have him bowing to me in tears.
oh yeah, and sometimes I cry - I know I know but imagine this: Me. Angry. Sobbing
Angry Me: "@#%^@(%^@&($%^!!!" *SOB*
Navy: ""Baby don't cry"
Angry Me: *Punch*
Navy ends up showing up with 2 cacti (cactus plural) annnnd a bouquet of flowers.
Though the point that I won the argument (which had him apologizing for hours after *insert evil laugh here*) is exciting, I am writing this to make another statement.
Through all the bullshit, and the stupidness of the fight - it helped me understand I like him, A LOT. The thought of ending it hurt, and the way he handled it was perfect - yay flowers.
I really like him - sometimes I feel like I love him, but that would be stupid.
I still refuse to call him my boyfriend.
The end.
Saturday, May 26, 2007
Why don't you just GET IT?!
My exboyfriend is a piece of work.
I am firmly convinced everyone has ONE ex that wont leave them alone. The kind that was shitty when you dated them, but the second you walk away has decided that you're the best thing since sliced bread and has made it their mission in life to win you back. I am also convinced if you don't have a person like this, you're either young or ARE ONE OF THOSE PEOPLE.
No sane person has experienced this and ends up doing it.
Back to my story...
He won't stop calling. Its started up this week. Either he knows I'm back for sure, or is having a fight with his current girlfriend. This means I've been getting calls - thankfully only one a day so far.
He calls at 3 AM (my weakest hour) probably hoping I'll fumble for the phone and answer in a sleepy haze. HOW FUCKING ANNOYING.
So now I'm thinking of ways to make him think I no longer have the phone number... UGH
I am firmly convinced everyone has ONE ex that wont leave them alone. The kind that was shitty when you dated them, but the second you walk away has decided that you're the best thing since sliced bread and has made it their mission in life to win you back. I am also convinced if you don't have a person like this, you're either young or ARE ONE OF THOSE PEOPLE.
No sane person has experienced this and ends up doing it.
Back to my story...
He won't stop calling. Its started up this week. Either he knows I'm back for sure, or is having a fight with his current girlfriend. This means I've been getting calls - thankfully only one a day so far.
He calls at 3 AM (my weakest hour) probably hoping I'll fumble for the phone and answer in a sleepy haze. HOW FUCKING ANNOYING.
So now I'm thinking of ways to make him think I no longer have the phone number... UGH
Monday, May 21, 2007
3 am interrogations are no fair
So this morning around 3 am my phone rings. I still haven't learned not to pick up without looking at the number first... especially since CPE has started calling again, ugh - IDIOT.
Anyhoo, I picked up, the convo went something like this:
me: *groggy* "hewwow?"
Guy: *my name*.
me: "Yes?"
Guy: You don't remember me do you?
*uh oh*
me: "uhhhh... no?"
Guy: "Did you meet any guys at a concert about a year ago?"
me: "umm... was it a fall out boy concert?"
Guy: "haha, yeah, do you remember my name?"
me: "uhhh... uhhh..."
Guy: "It's will"
me: "Oh hey!! How're you?"
Will: "Doing good just bought a bar?"
me: "well that's awesome... congrats"
Will: "I was just calling and wanted to see if you wanted to come by sometime. You're in town now right?"
me: "I mean... not tonight, haha, and I'm actually north of you now, so maybe sometime soon."
It ended with him telling me to come by for free drinks and to give him a call...
*BACK STORY*
I met this kid at a fallout boy concert LAST YEAR. We got drunk together, made out, I got lost and my friend called me on his phone (so he got my number). I was leaving the country the day after the concert. He text me, I text him back that it was nice meeting him, he txt me "I'm never going see you again am i?" I replied "probably not." I haven't spoken to him since last april...
HOW RANDOM?!
So I don't know how to act. I like that he owns a bar (yay free drinks!) I don't like how it's far away, and I'm also not sure the whole reason he called. I mean - I'm technically dating navy...
ugh
Anyhoo, I picked up, the convo went something like this:
me: *groggy* "hewwow?"
Guy: *my name*.
me: "Yes?"
Guy: You don't remember me do you?
*uh oh*
me: "uhhhh... no?"
Guy: "Did you meet any guys at a concert about a year ago?"
me: "umm... was it a fall out boy concert?"
Guy: "haha, yeah, do you remember my name?"
me: "uhhh... uhhh..."
Guy: "It's will"
me: "Oh hey!! How're you?"
Will: "Doing good just bought a bar?"
me: "well that's awesome... congrats"
Will: "I was just calling and wanted to see if you wanted to come by sometime. You're in town now right?"
me: "I mean... not tonight, haha, and I'm actually north of you now, so maybe sometime soon."
It ended with him telling me to come by for free drinks and to give him a call...
*BACK STORY*
I met this kid at a fallout boy concert LAST YEAR. We got drunk together, made out, I got lost and my friend called me on his phone (so he got my number). I was leaving the country the day after the concert. He text me, I text him back that it was nice meeting him, he txt me "I'm never going see you again am i?" I replied "probably not." I haven't spoken to him since last april...
HOW RANDOM?!
So I don't know how to act. I like that he owns a bar (yay free drinks!) I don't like how it's far away, and I'm also not sure the whole reason he called. I mean - I'm technically dating navy...
ugh
Thursday, May 3, 2007
What are "we"?
I have issues. I really do.
Today navy cornered me and asked me what "we" were. I tried to dance around it, I cracked jokes, I played with my dog, and I didn't succeed in changing the topic whatsoever. He just kept asking, damn him. So I said "I don't know."
He countered with the typical, you're different when we're alone, why do you get weird and act like nothing is going on when we're out with friends, blah blah blah.
That's how a true playa roles homey (lol, I thought ghetto talk would fit nicely here), but no really. I really don't know what's wrong.
I've always been the anti-PDA girl, but it's getting worse. I don't even WANT people to know that I'm WITH navy. I find it slightly amusing when I see other girls hitting on him at the bar when I leave him to be with friends. I don't know why. He always looks over at me with this helpless sheepish grin, and tries to talk the drunk girl out of introducing him to her friend --- and instead of being the normal girl going over there to stake her claim... I carry on with my business.
I don't want a boyfriend. I don't want to be tied down - and so far, other than having some unsightly fungus from an aircraft carrier (GROSS GROSS GROSS) he's been utterly perfect... gross.
I want an out.
Tonight I kinda got one. He went to B's house to give her chocolate cake (see? perfect, he went to go make her feel better on my request... *sigh*) and she text me saying she found naughty pictures on his phone. There's NO WAY he'd have ANY naughty ANYTHING of mine on that thing, so I text her it was probably some other girl and that I was going to bed. Then I text navy asking what pictures she was talking about, and stopped replying to B's texts.
Three situations came to mind.
1. B was looking at pictures navy snapped of me on webcam
2. navy has pictures of a random ho
3. B was playing a joke she thought would be funny.
I reacted thinking it was situation number 3, but in the back of my head I thought "this is my out."
IS THAT NORMAL?!
I meet a hot guy, really into me, who talks to me while I'm a million miles away, and the second I can get out of it I jump on it?
Then B calls me to let me know that she was joking and --- get this: I cry.
Yep.
Not an all out cry, just like one of those chest tightening, one droplet release kind of cry's that makes you sound like it's an all out sob when it's not.
I need therapy. Seriously. This shit isn't normal.
So navy calls me after he leaves her house, asking if I was ok, and I'm like "yep, fiiiiiine" and he bought it. Funny thing is... I am fine, if you call numb fine.
T. H. E. R. A. P. Y.
I hope he doesn't ask what "we" are again, I don't want to deal with this shit.
Today navy cornered me and asked me what "we" were. I tried to dance around it, I cracked jokes, I played with my dog, and I didn't succeed in changing the topic whatsoever. He just kept asking, damn him. So I said "I don't know."
He countered with the typical, you're different when we're alone, why do you get weird and act like nothing is going on when we're out with friends, blah blah blah.
That's how a true playa roles homey (lol, I thought ghetto talk would fit nicely here), but no really. I really don't know what's wrong.
I've always been the anti-PDA girl, but it's getting worse. I don't even WANT people to know that I'm WITH navy. I find it slightly amusing when I see other girls hitting on him at the bar when I leave him to be with friends. I don't know why. He always looks over at me with this helpless sheepish grin, and tries to talk the drunk girl out of introducing him to her friend --- and instead of being the normal girl going over there to stake her claim... I carry on with my business.
I don't want a boyfriend. I don't want to be tied down - and so far, other than having some unsightly fungus from an aircraft carrier (GROSS GROSS GROSS) he's been utterly perfect... gross.
I want an out.
Tonight I kinda got one. He went to B's house to give her chocolate cake (see? perfect, he went to go make her feel better on my request... *sigh*) and she text me saying she found naughty pictures on his phone. There's NO WAY he'd have ANY naughty ANYTHING of mine on that thing, so I text her it was probably some other girl and that I was going to bed. Then I text navy asking what pictures she was talking about, and stopped replying to B's texts.
Three situations came to mind.
1. B was looking at pictures navy snapped of me on webcam
2. navy has pictures of a random ho
3. B was playing a joke she thought would be funny.
I reacted thinking it was situation number 3, but in the back of my head I thought "this is my out."
IS THAT NORMAL?!
I meet a hot guy, really into me, who talks to me while I'm a million miles away, and the second I can get out of it I jump on it?
Then B calls me to let me know that she was joking and --- get this: I cry.
Yep.
Not an all out cry, just like one of those chest tightening, one droplet release kind of cry's that makes you sound like it's an all out sob when it's not.
I need therapy. Seriously. This shit isn't normal.
So navy calls me after he leaves her house, asking if I was ok, and I'm like "yep, fiiiiiine" and he bought it. Funny thing is... I am fine, if you call numb fine.
T. H. E. R. A. P. Y.
I hope he doesn't ask what "we" are again, I don't want to deal with this shit.
Wednesday, May 2, 2007
My blog.
I use to have a blog. No one read it except me. Then people found it, and liked it. These people seemed to like what I was saying and the secrets I shared. But then these people began to think they knew me. They started taking my blog from me. I would write about things that affected me which I couldn't speak to anyone about in the real world, and they would judge me.
So I've learned my lesson.
This is where I'll keep my secrets, where I'll share them with you without caring about your comments or reactions.
Welcome to my blog.
So I've learned my lesson.
This is where I'll keep my secrets, where I'll share them with you without caring about your comments or reactions.
Welcome to my blog.
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