On True Serendipity

Hello there readers, it’s that time again where I must go through an explanation of myself and my beliefs. It is true that I believe in things most people scoff at. Yet, the things most people believe in I prefer to stay cynical on. My dreams on the other hand? Those are still up for debate.

I am not one of those people that take their dreams and look for meaning around every corner. Yes, I do realize my subconscious has a few tricks up its sleeve, but not every dream has a hidden meaning. For example, I had a dream my freshman year at college that I was getting married on campus. Right in the middle of the quad I was hyperventilating because my wedding dress was missing. Forget the fact my husband to be had only proposed to me the night before, none of my family was around, and my best friend wasn’t by my side. No, I was freaking out because the dress was missing. That really is me. Forget the bigger picture and focus on the details. I digress…

There are certain aspects of my dreams that do stay with me into the waking hours. They leave reminders of what is important, the things to watch out for and give me insight on people in my life. These dreams really show me the people who matter and those that need to be let go. I have to say, my subconscious, despite its many flaws, can be good to me sometimes.
I’ve faced many problems with people over the years. Last year I had a friend who decided she did not want anything to do with me anymore. Reasons, you ask? Let’s say we fell victims to miscommunication. There is an Irish proverb:

Bíonn dhá insint ar scéal agus dhá leagan déag ar amhrán.


For those of us who don’t speak Gaelic, perhaps the translation will be better. “There are two sides to every story and twelve versions of every song.” In other words, there are multiple ways to read a text message. Some people automatically read a message as if it were a personal attack. I’ve always found that rather sad. Especially when four years of friendship is suddenly put on the line.

The important thing is to remember how to move forward. For the sake of health and sanity, sometimes you have to realize you should come first. This means breaking old habits and realize the usual mechanistic tendencies many of us are flawed with, are just that. Flaws. I cam 800 miles from the place of my birth and raising to see that I could start over. Amazing what a 15 hour drive can do for the soul.

I’ll use myself as a perfect example of the ways many of us leaving high school and entering university need to change.

One. I am more paranoid than I thought. Sad, right? I’ll give you an example. First few days out here one of my male friends held the door open for me waiting to go inside. I was confused. Was he going to stick some sign to my back? Smack me in the back of the head since I was in front of him? Nope. He was simply going by what his mother taught him; ladies first. Go figure, chivalry is not dead. I’ve met people that just want to do things for you to see you smile, not asking anything in return. Go figure. No alternate motive, just peace and love. It’s true, what they say. The further west you go the more hippies you meet. Happy hippies, and generally clean.

Two. I have found less stress. One lesson I learned quickly? Sometimes you just have to let that phone ring. You cannot continuously make yourself sick with worry over situations you cannot control. For the two years I’ve been in Chicago I have had less than half the amount of panic attacks I did in one year of schooling back home. Doesn’t say a whole lot about me, but it does show that I’m learning that I am mortal. Not everything is within my control.
I used to spend nights running to people’s houses to take care of them. Answering phone calls and staying up all night to talk, only to see the person peacefully rested the next day while I look like I had only just managed to pull myself off the floor. I never asked for anything in return because I had always believed friends before all. I am aware that the saying goes ‘Blood is thicker than water’. Yeah, those Germans might have had a point, but I beg to disagree. I have a saying of my own.
There is a difference between your relatives and your family.
Some people have strong ties with their family, good for them. I think you make your own bonds, and those ties are the strongest. My point is this. You find people you can rely on, the ones that will be there through the good times and the bad. Times where you find yourself being portrayed as the big bad wolf is when you need to learn that those little piggies just aren’t worth your breath.

Three. Hello, my name is Luci and I am socially awkward. It’s true. I don’t want to go on a pity me rant, but for those nearest and dearest they understand that I have only recently become well adjusted. I’m horrible with taking compliments and am always waiting for the other shoe to drop in ever situation. I’ve gotten much better though. University brings about new friends and their version of therapy sessions. These sessions usually include movie nights, flying tackle hugs, and best of all midnight adventures just to go out and talk.

So how is it that this all ties together? The simple conclusion is life is a chess board and it’s your move. For me, I’ve taken my turn and if I try to make another move Fate will yell at me for trying to cheat the game. So for once I will humbly bow out and wait for the universe to take its turn.
I will simply retreat to the spot inside myself where I feel safest. I pictured myself in a perfectly smooth tower with no entrance to keep me safely inside. It’s the part of me where I learned the dark is not scary, just a quiet place where serendipity is found.

Serendipity. Look for something, find something else, and realize that what you’ve found is more suited to your needs than what you thought you were looking for.

-Lawrence Block.

I came to Chicago looking for a new approach to learning and a new view of things. I wasn’t running away, I just wanted a change of pace. What did I find out here? I found friends and a new perspective. Better yet, I remembered what it is like to find someone you trust with all of your heart and be scared half to death knowing you’ve given your trust to someone you barely know.
That is my serendipity.

Don't Let Them Get to You Cher

Hello readers. Your favorite deranged blogger here. I'm happy to say I actually do have new stories and news for you this time around. So I will relay all of this to you, but mind you I might get mild ADD more than usual. I'm currently sitting in my friend's room upstairs (and one of my fellow bloggers, HI MICA) watching True Blood. Gotta love life.
ANYWHO.
For those who have been on the edge of their seats about my problems with my guy friend certain things have been resolved. For all intensive purposes (aka just incase his dumbass finds this blog) I'm changing his name. Not that he won't know, but I'll feel less guilty if I change his name. Let's call him Weston. So Thursday I'm sitting in my room with my dear friends Aaron, Julie, and our adopted freshie Meg. We're all watching TV when Meg and Julie whisper something and Meg says goodbye. Not really unusual since my birthday is coming up and everyone enjoys freaking me out about it. I let it go. Weston then comes over to sit with us and he sends me a text message. A nice angry text message.
For all purposes I'm going to condense this and not go through all the text messages. It turns out Meg had called Weston and told him his birthday present to me should be coming to my party and not bring his girlfriend. First off: I'm not even having a party. Secondly: She did not tell me this because if she did I would have hit her. Regardless of my feelings for that bitch (oh yeah things have gone way downhill since last time), I would never tell him to do that. He thought I knew and was PISSED. Of course then I had to defend myself against him. I was mildly insulted that he would even for a second think I would say that. I may not like the bitch, but my momma raised me right and at least I have tact.
So after a few messages back and forth he left. I told him if he wanted to talk to me he could, but he said unless I needed to talk to him not to worry about it. Should have known better. About ten minutes go by and I get this message.
"I am frustrated. Wanna talk."
I gave a sigh and asked him where we should meet. He told me to meet him at the little drive about behind the dorms. I grabbed my coat watching as Aaron and Julie looked unhappy. Gee. I wonder why. I told them if they didn't hear from me within an hour they could call me to settle their nerves.
I'm going to pause here for a moment and just add a funny note. After I left Julie and Aaron went upstairs to visit my friends Mica and Aastha (whose room I'm currently in) and Aaron had his keys in his hand the entire time. Not only that but they gave Meg and Amanda (my partner in crime) the heads up. Not only did Aaron have his keys at the ready but so did Amanda. I have two friggin search parties ready incase Weston flipped and threw my body in a ditch. End side note.
I opened the door to get in the car and looked at him asking what was wrong. He rolled his eyes and told me to get in the car because he needed to buy gas. And thus it began. I should mention here we were diving for like ten minutes before he so nicely told me he had a gift card for a certain gas station so we weren't going to be around campus. We drove almost an hour away to get gas. As I joking mentioned after to everyone else, if he did flip on me I'd be in trouble. I didn't have my knife or any money. Just my phone and school id. I was also in my pajamas. Yeah...didn't think that one through.
So we did talk. Some more things got into the open and while I think it's still going to take more, it's a start. He asked me what I had meant previously about how he's been off. I told him the truth. He's been distant to us and we miss him. I figured he was going through his own shit, but if he needs to talk I'm still here. I mentioned how we (meaning our group of friends) had noticed when he came over he'd been in a good mood and then it would change right before he left. I didn't mention it was usually after his girlfriend showed up because honestly I need to start a little at a time. He launched himself into explanation. Yes, he hasn't been around because he's been dealing with a lot of shit. He doesn't want us to think he's ditching us for a new group.

Hell, I don't see anyone. I spend all of my time in my own room. I never leave the dorm for anything besides classes. I miss you guys too...

Broke me up a little to hear that. I wanted to say something comforting, but I couldn't think of anything.
THe conversation lightened a bit and at one point he asked if any of this had to do with his girlfriend.
"To be honest? Yeah it does. I won't lie about that. A lot of us are really uncomfortable around her."
He nodded, accepted it, and didn't comment after that.
There were a few times where he kept asking me what else, what else. I just kept getting mad.
"What do you want me to say Weston? Is there something you're waiting for me to say? Let me know because I don't know what's left for me to tell you."
Of course than he'd try to defend himself without getting me mad, just telling me he was still figuring things out. He just wanted to know if there was anything else.
It was hard talking at points. I felt him look at me when I was looking out the window.
"What about you?"
"What about me?"
"You seem a lot more frustrated than usual."
"Sunshine, we're all frustrated. I'm dealing with my own shit same as everyone else."
"What kind of shit?"
::sigh:: "I've got a lot of shit coming to me right now. Stuff from every angle. Stuff I just...I just don't know what to do about anymore. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do about it, but I am. I'm just figuring it out on me own I guess." I just leaned my head against the window.
Part of me, the dumb part, really wished he'd touch me. Just a reassuring touch. I think by now that's passed. And part of me kind of wanted to cry. It hurts.
When we got to the gas station I sent a message to Aaron that I was alive and well. I was laughing a bit and Weston got back in the car. I explained that I was letting the others know I was alive and he hadn't gotten mad at left me in a ditch.
He just looked at me. "Come on, they know I'd never hurt you."
"Sweets, with how pissed you were at me before I got into the car, they didn't even want me to talk to you."
"...I wouldn't hurt you."
I just shook my head with a little smile. "I'd get out of the car before you had the chance to throw me out."
We drove back and I listened to him sing. I'd usually join, but I kept losing my voice (still being sick and all). We got out of the car and as we were heading back to our respective dorms I reminded him if there was anything else he wanted/needed to tell me, he knew how to find me.
"Vice versa."

I got back into Morris and went straight up to the third floor where all my friends were waiting for me. I walked through the doors and immediately Aaron gave me a hug. I kinda laughed it off, but appreciated it all the same. Also helped cute boy was in the room so I got to smile. Yes. I am indeed a sap.

SPEAKING OF CUTE BOY...yeah i'll fill you in on that next time. BAHAHA
I'm going to devote more time to watching the show, maybe I'l have stuff up later.
Happy Reading Bloggers.

The Times They Are A Changing

Damn you Watchmen soundtrack. Why are you stuck in my head when I don't even own you? DAMN YOU.
Moving on.
Hello readers, if there even are any. I like to think there are. Why? I'm not too sure. I have been lagging because of moving back to school and little bits of drama I've been unable to avoid/make me too tired to keep up with.
So. New resolution try to get on here once a week at least and then move it up from there to make it maybe a two day a week blog. Which would be wonderful. I actually read my posts aloud to two of my friends who were in hysterics because I write exactly how I talk and apparently that makes this much more amusing. Anywho.
So the blogging will continue. I hope someone actually reads this. Please comment me guys. That way I don't feel like I'm schizophrenic and am writing this to one of my other personalities. It's not a plea to be an internet star, just to make sure I'm not 100% insane. And lonely.
So I moved back onto my lovely campus the 9th. I was so happy to be back. Aside from the fact my roommates decided to do the cup of water above the door trick and I fell for it. Twice. The first time was with my bags in my hand. It was funny as hell though. We let up, but every few days or so we get a little nervous about opening the door. Even better when we do it for visitors.
But I have since moved back and started up classes again. Organizational Assessment, Honors Science, Organizational Communication II, Middle Eastern Studies, and Physical Anthropology. Oh the excitement that is my life. To be honest Im enjoying all of my classes. Minus Science. Which is to be expected since I hate science in general and I'm partially nervous we have a hard teacher. He doesn't seem it yet, but there have been horror stories.
For those who are familiar with my previous blogs (as I hope you are since this is only the 4th and therefore a weird place to pick up) you might remember I was coming back to a few problems with a friend of mine.
For those curious minds nothing has been resolved. If anything things have just been odd. We hardly see each other aside from science class. He doesn't visit and I was told today his girlfriend asked my dear darling friend Aaron if I hated her.
I don't hate her. I'm just not fond of her. I don't see a reason to beat around the bush. It hardly even matters anymore since I don't see her and don't see him. No reason to try to mend ties with me since you don't like me to begin with and your boyfriend hasn't been speaking to me aside from a phone call or two asking about class.
The phone calls are horrid. He always had a habit of hanging up on me first right before I'd think of something I wanted to ask him. Lately I've noticed that I've been the first to hang up. That there's not so much a strained silence at the end, but you can tell there's an air of something unsaid. Something needs to be said I realize. Problem is figuring out what needs to be said. And when to actually say it since I no longer see him. Like ever. At least not outside of class. Trying to talk after class is pointless since I have to move my ass to my next one.
I still want to hit him. Dumbass. I still miss him. I'm a dumbass too.
It's hard when two people you really love talking to suddenly are ripped from your life within a month of each other. Yes, I still have Marena, but she's not here. It's not exactly the same. I still have my people from around here-but. Still. When you lose one of the close ones and all the inside jokes it's greatly upsetting.
Okay. End of the little emo blog. That's just annoying.
So for some good laughs my friends and I had a bit of a cheer up weekend because despite the fact that things have been going well and I've been in a good mood, I was feeling a bit blue Friday. So Julie and I flung ourselves into Amanda's car and drove off to the bigger mall. I got Dmitri [my laptop] fixed up at the Apple store. He was having an issue with his disk drive and two programs were acting rather odd. Then the fun shopping commenced. During that weekend I got two shirts, a moulin rouge top, three pairs of shoes (costing in total less than $30, I think $24 in total), a water bottle, a wallet, earrings, and I think that's it. I made a killing basically. It's funny. I generally hate shopping, but something about shopping with certain friends makes it not only bearable, but highly amusing. Possibly because we make each other try on insane outfits.
In other news new marathons will begin tomorrow. One of my roommates, Emily, and I decided we were going to start having TV marathons together. Last year I grabbed season One of True Blood and we sat glued to the couch for eight hours straight before her boyfriend showed up and reminded up normal people need to eat. We did the same for Lie To Me on my recommendation. Our next first season will be Big Love. Either starting tomorrow or Friday. Probably tomorrow after our Anthro Club meeting.
Oh my but my life is resurfacing again nicely.
I should probably attempt to get some sleep since I have class at 9:30 and still need to shower, but am going to wait until morning when my roommate and her boyfriend are still asleep. Because I need the sleep more.
Also apparently I need to get more sleep so I am 'less stressed'. Less stress ha. I'm a college kid getting a degree I'm still not sure what I'm doing with, I have a line of people upset with me in one way or another, I just found out a good friend may have a brain tumor, I am fighting feelings I don't want to feel, school is stressful, I want to kill two people and I'm sick. On the bright note I haven't had any panic attacks in quite a while.
Little victories friends. Remember those are important.

Until next time.
Happy Blogging.

Spiders in the Shower and Other Scary Things

Spiders in the shower. How much do you hate that? Seriously. You've just in the shower washing your hair and next thing you know there is an eight legged fellow walking across the ceiling. Insert the "I-know-the-killer-is-in-the-house" scream and me flinging whatever is nearby to kill the critter.
I thought that bit of comedy would be a fun way to start my first post of the New Year. I've been lagging on this bloody thing already. That's a disgrace. Although in my defense bits of chaos have been going on so I haven't been able to get to a computer long enough to write on here.
My dear friend and fellow blogger Stephanie [Who writes two blogs, my favorite of which is-So Many Habits, So Little Time] left the midwest for an extended weekend to visit the glory of New England. We have a bit of a back and forth joke about this. We went to Time Square for New Years Eve. That is something that you do once in your life. ONCE. And never again unless you have been drinking and have a hotel nearby. Just saying. I should also mention apparently two sailors were trying to talk to us but I was walking too fast to pay attention. This was on our way back to Grand Central Station after the ball had dropped. Go figure. I fuck up at the very beginning of the New Year.
Speaking of. I'm really on a roll with the New Year. I went on a group date the other night. Once again. I need to learn to stop letting my best friend set me up. I love her to death, but things don't always turn out well. Don't get me wrong. This is one of the best dates she's set me up on. Honestly. No one ended up on fire, threatened, or crying. Not that that's happened before...kinda. But I also need to learn that over time I should have realized certain things and stuck by them. Don't get me wrong. The guy was really nice and a good friend of her boyfriend (who we joke is my pseudo boyfriend for special occasions). But he fell under two of the categories that have been written down to remind me of who I shouldn't date. Namely his name is John and he's a Marine.
Now. This is where I need to clear up a few things again. One, I don't have a prejudice against the name John. Once of my closest friends at school is a John...even though he doesn't go by that name. I just have a problem with relationships with guys named John. Laugh if you must, but once you've over the three person mark the pattern comes into shape. Now that I've hit six, I'm pretty sure I can check it off as a name I'm just not compatible with.
As for the Marine part. That's a little bias on my part. Both my grandfathers served in the military. My maternal grandfather was in the Army during WWII and the Navy during the Korean War. My paternal grandfather, a Marine during the Korean War. Notice I didn't way 'was'. As I was told and have witnessed over the years. There is no such thing as a former Marine. Once again don't get me wrong. I don't dislike Marines, I just don't date them. Once again chalk it up to childhood prejudice and nearly being taken advantage by a Jarhead (former close friend) this summer.
Side note. Unless you are sure of someone's intentions do not let them come visit you while you've got a 103 temperature and aren't feeling up to snuff.
What a tragically deranged life I lead, right? Oh the stories I could tell. I probably will over the course of my blogging time. You'll appreciate some of them.
I do not have a wild romantic life. Actually I have a pretty nonexistent one. That was the first date I've been on in over three years. My one and only relationship was short lived back in '06. Now you're probably wondering what I meant by the six Johns? Those fall under the category of guys I was talking to who were interested. They count, because if they don't than I have nothing to chalk up to my sad romantic prospects and simply would have to talk about the mentally unstable gentlemen I end up speaking to.
By the by, when i say mentally unstable I am not one of those people who exaggerate. When you can automatically think of at least five potential suitors who should seek therapy it's not exaggeration. Beastiality, suicide threats, self harm, mentally abusive, and those who get off by watching people get hit with tasers top the list. Trust me. I too wish I was kidding. I'm a writer, but I'm not that good.
But the original statement was about the date. There was no click and for once I wasn't too upset. I'm heading back to school tomorrow and I'm seeing this as a really good start. Not that I knock relationships, but I think I need to stop searching for them. I just end up frustrated and more upset because I hear all the annoying voices gathered together from the years telling me what's wrong.

"You're not pretty."
"You're not smart."
"You're fat."
"You're waiting for something that's not there."
"You don't deserve it."
"You're too scared for a relationship. You're destroying them before they start."
"You're too prudish. Even if you do loosen up, then you're just a whore."

I have got to tell you, those voices? Annoying as fuck. Mind you, they're still there and they will never go away, but over time they dim down a bit. So sometimes I just throw caution to the winds and drown them out with this line:

"Take the chance."

I like that line. Mind you it's gotten me in a bit of trouble since I started using it for 2009. Three times if we want to really go for it.

Trouble Number One: I made out with the best friend of one of my closest university friends, Jude, on a road trip back in March. It was a spur of the moment thing and a thrill. He made me feel special, as stupid as that sounds. I'm not a skinny girl. I'm quiet curvy, not exactly in the perfect way, but I'm beginning to see it's not all bad. But as I was saying, it's not often I find someone that makes me feel wanted, so it was an experience. Mind you it was also the first time I've ever gotten a hickey. Or I should probably say hickies. After this happened I was told I looked like I had gotten mauled by a bear. Or that I had gotten in a fight. Jude thought I had a rash when he first saw me and continued to think that for another day before it clicked. His friend hasn't talked to me since it happened. Oh well. It was an experience. Once that Jude and all my friends still like to bring up. Why? Because there was apparently nothing funnier than me attempting to hide hickies for a day before deciding it was pointless since they had already seen them.

Trouble Number Two: This one I do claim partial responsibility for, but also not entirely. I referenced this already, but a former friend showed up on a night I was really sick to watch movies with me. I should also mention We'd been friends for five years and this past summer I finally got over my feelings for him. This took place in June. He showed up, ended up letting me lie down next to him, which I didn't think anything of at the time since it had happened before and the fact I was too groggy to sit up on my own. One thing led to another and he had me pinned down and was making out with me. Why I didn't stop him I'm still not too sure. It could have been because my parents were asleep and I was kinda scared my mum would shoot him, or it could have been because I'd waited so long for him to pay me any attention I just wanted to see how it would go. Guess what? He's a shitty kisser. He was a shitty friend. Actually a generally shitty person. He told me on more than one occasion he wished he could find a girl like me. I had the things he was looking for, but I just wasn't pretty. Why didn't I dump him as a friend on the spot? Because I have a soft side for assholes. Needless to say I have since ended speaking to him.
Fun other note. He had called me back in the end of September to let me know he had moved into school safely (over three weeks at this point) and he hadn't called me because I 'just didn't rank on my list'. Yeaaaaah. That's when I wrote him a really nice letter letting him know exactly what I thought of him. One of my friends read a copy after I sent it and asked if my mother was checking the obituaries to see if he killed himself. No he hasn't. I didn't lay it on that thick. It took some time but I held back.

I never said I was a good person.

Trouble Number Three: They say third time is the lucky charm. Man, if there had been one different element in this scenario it would have been. I'm not going into all the details with this one because it's still fresh and part of it still hurts like hell and most likely always will. I got together with the one person at University I can honestly say i fully trust. Which has scared me since I realized it. We're close...or we we're until a fight that took place after this incident. Let's just say he was like my best friend and every day I feel like I'm losing him. We started the night by getting some alcohol to celebrate life in general and friends. He swung and arm around my shoulders and told me in no uncertain terms I was going to get drunk that night.
"Why?" I said with a half smile.
He winked. "Because I feel like taking advantage of you."
We both laughed it off. Thinking about the laughing I think you can read it two different ways. One, while he does have asshole tendencies toward everyone-he is a gentleman. He wouldn't take advantage of anyone and he's told me on more than one occasion I'm one of the few people he trusts and he does care about me. The second way to read it is basically, it wouldn't be taking advantage since he knows I am attracted to him. I've never openly said it to him, but I think we both knew. Well...since the 'incident' we know it. Anyway long story short, we hooked up. My definition of hooking up is getting together, not straight up sex. If it was straight up sex I'd simply say 'We had sex.' But we did not. Why? Because while we'd both be drinking and we both were in one hell of a moment, the second he looked at me for permission to take off my pants I had to say no. Which he understood and accepted. Why did I say no? Because there was a sober part of my brain that suddenly flared up reminding me he had not broken up with his girlfriend.
Oh yeah I'm going to hell.
Want to know the worst part?
She was on a religious retreat.
I don't think there is a level in hell that qualifies for this. I'm going to need a new one all to myself.
Trust me. I still feel bad about it. I am dead set against cheating. Seeing as the fact as I've been cheated on and have been lied to about the status of interested parties I feel horrible. About the situation. The girl-and I know this sounds horrible-not so much. Why? Because I don't like her as a person for the way she has always treated myself and just the kind of person she is.
That doesn't make things better I am aware, but once again, I realized the take the chance voice causes harm.
I'm sure someone's saying "Well you can't blame drinking because he said that to you."
First off I don't blame the alcohol. Yes it took a part. It made both of us more relaxed but there was something else going on. We've drank together numerous times and it never happened before. This one time, this one night and it happens? Well I don't know what to call it.
Since it happened we had one very brief discussion about it, but not one on one. Like I said it was a long story and it would take too long to explain. But we decided not to talk about it to other people obviously. This happened November 13th. Friday the 13th. Ironic right?

The week we were all going home for Thanksgiving another friend, he and I were all sitting waiting for our flights and talking. That whole experience came up and I said "That night-"
He interrupted and looked at me with an expression I still can't exactly pinpoint and said, "So that's what we're calling it? 'That Night'?"

Odd. I know.
We were fin up until the first week of December when we got into a fight. Mind you over text messages, but I got really upset and ended up in a friend's room so they could sit next to me on the couch. I was nearly in tears. That's how bad of a shape I was in. I lost one of my best friends-she didn't die, but decided 19 years of friendship wasn't worth it (another long story for a different post). I had completely severed tires with the asshole for mistake number two, and I wasn't prepared or ready to lose the one person in Chicago I really trusted. I couldn't lose anyone else that I was that close with. While fending off tears and leaning into my friends I let out this great line:

"He's not allowed to stay mad at me for a misunderstanding. We're too close. I fucking stayed in the checkout line with him in Target when he bought an espresso machine and lube. He cannot stay made at me."

he had told me once he got back to campus we were going to talk. Which was why I was not in my own dorm. I didn't want my roommates to see me like that. Mind you the group of us are the close knit group of friends, but if he was going to yell at me I didn't want it to happen in front of them. Better away from our regular circle.
Once he got back to campus my friend let him in because there was a going away party we were all going to-separate of course. He walks in says hi and acts like nothing is wrong. I am greatly confused at this point. He acts nice all night. I hang out with other friends we all hangout everything is fine. Hell, I even get hit on by a really cute kid who gave me a great back massage and let me cuddle with him when we were watching movies later that night.
As my friend is leaving to take the drunken girlfriend home-Actually going to pause for a moment. Everyone knows there is no love loss between his girlfriend and myself. She's never said it out loud but she isn't fond of me. In her drunken state she told me she doesn't hate me and just wants to be the best of friends and do girly things together. She then proceed to fling herself into my arms and basically starts crying. Thankfully she did this in a separate room where there were only a few of us. Over her head two of my friends' jaws had dropped in disbelief. Her boyfriend and I were just starting at each other. He had a blank expression which was impressive seeing as I was sending him the most evil look in the world. Anyway, back to him leaving. As he was going out the door I asked him if we still needed to talk. His reply? "Later. Not tonight."
We still didn't have that talk. Trust me. I tried. I wanted to get it over with. He kept avoiding it like the PLAGUE. I talked to him the second day I was home from break. He told me he did not hate me, but he was upset that I had a problem and didn't come to him about it. Which led me to have to explain I did not have a problem with him and it was a misunderstanding blown out of epic proportion. I didn't talk to him all of break until the other day when he sent me a text message asking me when a movie was coming out.
I mimed strangling the phone. It made me feel much better. As Stephanie put it, it was probably his way of letting me know we were okay. Either way. I still want to hit him then give him a hug because I miss the bastard.

Well. I think I should end it here tonight. I have to finish packing to move back tomorrow and I just want to sleep.
I'll finish this horrid jumble of ideas tomorrow.
Until then
Cheers.

Windex makes me loopy...

I suppose it's just been one of those days. I was feeling like absolute shit last night so I was planning on sleeping in. Now a days I convince myself it's okay to sleep until noon because:

(1) I'm still on Chicago time so I'm only sleeping until 11.
(2) What the hell else am I going to do?

So upon waking up from a dream that just left me sad and wanting to write so I wouldn't have to think about what the not so hidden meanings were attempting to convince me. Also it made me want to draw. I should put this out here right now, I am no artist. My 'sketches' are bored little doodles and my own take at the tattoos I want on my body. The thing I did want to draw, or really, touch up is the next tattoo on my list; my memorial tattoo.

My maternal grandfather died back in 2002, when I was twelve. It wasn't until a little while later I realized exactly how much he meant to me. Don't get me wrong, I was never a spoiled little kid that took the people around her for granted. I was in no position to do so. Both my parents worked hard, I was an only child, and there weren't many kids in the neighborhood where I grew up. It was just my grandfather and I until I was old enough to go to school and attempt to socialize with other children. Hard to be the only kid with no immediate cousins or other children. But that's all another story for another day. Only one emo story at a time.

I wasn't usually allowed outside unless supervised by Max, my grandfather's German Shepherd. In a brief explanation I didn't grow up in the best neighborhood, it was fine in the day, but things started to change. I miss it though. We lived in a three family house; my grandfather and aunt lived on the first floor, my parents and I on the second, and a family friend on the third. My great grandfather had built the house and the two other houses next to it. Of course there had been modern updates and new locks and windows had been put up over the years. My grandfather knew I was the easiest kid to make happy and gave me the old skeleton keys from the houses. I have the oddest obsession with skeleton keys and thus where the idea for the tattoo stemmed from.

The tattoo would be of a skeleton key, a combination of the keys from the old house and ones I have been given over the years. Aside from being just for my grandfather it would also represent my past. Our old house and all the memories it held. While I moved out of the house while still young my grandfather was living in it until the year before he passed away. The same year my aunt moved out and we sold the house. I was still visiting it until then. A lot of things happened within those walls and good or bad they have shaped who I am. Thus the want for the skeleton key. Skeleton keys were made to bypass over certain molds (or whatever you would call them) within a lock to unlock doors. My skeleton key is the same, it has gotten me through a lot and opened many doors-some that shouldn't have been opened. Along with that I want the numbers 1290 attached to the key. That bit is still in process. I have two designs the first would have the numbers simply over the body of the key while the other was attached to a small paper tab tied to the key. The number was my old address and, as a friend pointed out, the day (12) and year (1990) I was born. It's a big deal and I want to get it right. I also want to actually have my mother's blessings for it.

My mother, who i love to death, is anti-tattoos. Well, on my body anyway. She appreciates them sometimes, although she pretends not to on certain occasions and is dead set against me having any, although she's realizing more and more that I am going to have them no matter what she says. Needless to say she does not know about the two I currently have. Big rebel, i know.

Now this whole things went off on a bit of a tangent. What I was saying was I woke up sad and looked for things to cling to. I thought more about the tattoo today then threw myself into cleaning. My friend Stephanie (the one who convinced me to start blogging with her) is coming from St. Louis to visit little old me. So I seriously needed to the second floor before her arrival. Not that things have been a mess, but eh. Also when I throw myself into cleaning the bathroom I get rid of things at a wonderful pace. I scrub, I wash, I find wonderful lotions hidden away by my mother who uses my bathroom as storage for all the bath items people give as gifts. Also it's nice to hide in the bathtub and just close my eyes to think. Although I had to open a window because the smell of windex was making me a wee bit light headed. In all I got some nice thinking done. Thinking that I'm writing down now while sitting on the floor of my bedroom that I should be cleaning at the moment. Oh well, can't win it all.

Things I have realized about changes:
(1) Hells Bells, I missed having black hair. I'm not sure what it is about it. It makes me feel more in control of my life. My eyes pop out more, make me feel that there is something people will see besides the dark circles beneath my eyes. I feel powerful, maybe a bit dangerous. A placebo effect perhaps, but sometimes the placebo is the cure all.

(2) I really need to stop worrying about being alone. As in relationship wise. Obsessing over it doesn't change anything. So I'm not meant to be in a relationship right now, okay whatever. So all of my roommates always are with their boys or with the ones that fawn over them. Okay, I can deal with that because I have single friends that live on the floor above me that miss seeing me. Problem solved...

(3) Speaking of problems I need to realize I cannot solve them all. This year I became a lot better at realizing that. I severed ties with one person who I'd been in (what my friends have termed) an 'abusive' friendship for the past four-five years. Speaking of abusive friendships I recently left another one. That one was hard to end considering the individual and I had been friends our entire lives. One misunderstanding and she calls me out on never being there for her and changing. Funny how that goes. This was when I realized some things I cannot fix. I left the ball in her court and she refused to acknowledge any fault, so there you go.

(4) What's worth saving? That is a real question to ponder. Something I've been obsessing over. Not just what is worth it, but how to save it. I have a friendship currently having in a strange balance. I know you're thinking "What the hell has she done to get all these people pissed at her?" Trust me I sometimes ask myself the same thing. I'm pretty good at admitting when I am at fault. In this instance I am at partial fault, but so is he. This is another case of misunderstanding. We're okay last I checked (the beginning of break) according to him. I, however, know he's lying out of his ass and he's still upset with me in some way. Is this friendship worth saving? A resounding yes. How do I save it? I have no idea. How to I figure out why he's mad? At this point I'm just waiting. I've gotten a few opinions/ideas from other friends and they all come to the source that it has to do with the trifecta from hell. Also known as the connection between myself, the friend, and the friend's girlfriend. A mess? I will just nod in agreement because there are no words to do this mess justice.

(5) Speaking of apologies, how do you deal with a drunk, crying girl who tells you they just want to be the best of friends and do girly things when you cringe at the thought. I have no problem being cordial to this person, but going to get my nails done and swapping silly girlie stories just will never work. For various reasons. One of them being while I do not hate this person, I can't being myself to take them seriously-thus not being able to truly respect them. That and I just have a general distrust of her. So what do I do about it? I smile and suck it up. I can hear you now, "Why Luci? What kind of dumbass are you that you'd put up with this person you obviously aren't fond of? Why act two faced?" Well dear reader, it's not being two faced if I'm civil. I try to be civil to everyone. As to why I would simply smile and suck it up? Friend code. How does the friend code apply in this case? The girlfriend of a friend.

(6) The friend code. That statement says it all about change. I wish someone had written it down because over the years tweaks come into the friend code on what can and can't be done. After all, we all grow up and rules change a bit. I just wish I had more than just my own opinion to run with in these cases.

That's where I'll leave you for tonight unless I have a brilliant revelation. Which I highly doubt will happen. Off to more cleaning.

Well, that's a lie. I will leave you with one more thing since I was explaining in my first post I was a writer with a horrid train of thought (which you have witness in this post).
A thought from my current project and something I have stated in my own life (although you'd have to replace shotgun with knife to talk about my experience).

"You know, I always tried to figure out what was wrong with me. I suppose the part of my brain that was suppose to comprehend fear never really worked. It became obvious at times like this. I mean, most people would be afraid of someone leveling a shotgun at their head. I just got pissed."

Time to Dive In...

Well, I'll welcome anyone willing to spend some time reading my words into my blog. This whole idea for writing a blog has been in my head for quite a while, but I've finally decided to go along with it. I blame this all on the movie Julie & Julie (which if you haven't seen it, you should. Cute little feel-good movie). Aside from that a dear friend of mine thinks I should document my life better. She seems to think having my 'adventures' written down will:
(1) Clear my mind
(2) Rid my life of the dreaded Writer's Block
(3) Amusing people of the Internet.
So here I am.

So a little introduction. I am your average kid who moved 800+ miles from home for college (Connecticut to Chicago for those wondering). Okay, 'average' might not be the right word. My train of thought is horrid, even for a want to be writer. Yes, that is another bit of information to be shared. I write. Nothing published aside from things for high school and such. My mind, however, has plot lines to the brim as well as projects put on the permanent back burner. There is one project that is currently on the front burner so to speak and I'm doing my best to keep it alive and running. More details on that later on. I also count myself (well other people tell me I have no other say in the matter) to be an amateur photographer. I've been told I'm allowed to use that title because I've been paid for my work. Also, more information on that later on.

What does this mean for my blog? Well it means you will get to heard about my creative process first hand...or secondhand depending on how you view things. From the mind of a second year, organizational communication major, who wants nothing more than to write, watch movies, have fun, be with friends, and rant about the moronic things people do, while holding ot the little things that make me happy. Generally there's more comedy than anything when it comes to my life. Drama does peak it's head when the bad decisions arise, and oh you'll find the humor in those. The adventures are sure to come, as long as my partners in crime are still down to drive off into the sunset. If not...there will still be adventures, just not across state lines or country borders.

So here I will end my first post of many to come. From me to you, happy reading.
-Luci