Have you ever just been so overwhelmed with life that you just want to quit for a while? Or you are so stressed out that you just don't want to think anymore. I feel like life was so much easier when you could take a time out, sit in a corner, and when the 15 minutes of punishment was over, you forgot all about it. I want to take a time out right now. I want to shut my brain off and not think about anything. Why can't I do that?
Sometimes, life just isn't fun. There is so much that goes on on a daily basis that I feel like I can't keep up with all the stuff in my brain. I want to just compartmentalize everything and only think about what I want to think about at that moment. Like, open up a file drawer and read it, then put it back and not worry about it.
Worry. That is something different all together. I want to not worry. I am such a worrier though. I worry about everything. Everything.
1. I worry about my clothes piling up in my room that I need to put in the closet, about the shoes in the floor that I just keep stepping over.
2. I worry about the dishes that need to be put away ( okay, not so often, but every now and then), about the textbooks cluttering up the coffee table in the living room.
3. I worry about my homework, about waking up early, about going to bed early enough so I don't feel horrible in the morning.
4. I worry about what I eat, and when I eat crap, I worry about my weight.
5. I worry about how my hair turns dirty blonde in the winter because of the lack of sunlight, and because of my lack of motivation to dry it every day so I just throw it up in a bun.
6. I worry about paying for gas, getting a job, paying the bills, and paying the rent.
7. I worry about my friends, how they are doing in school, and if they are happy.
8. I worry about my family, since I live so far from them and don't get to speak to or see them as often as I would like.
9. I worry about boys, about finding the right one that isn't going to break my heart, about how I probably have ruined every good relationship I've ever had and I don't even know why, about how I miss the boys I have loved, about how I think I am probably going to end up being an old bitty with seventeen cats.
10. I worry about how I like to take naps, a lot, and I wonder if that is normal.
11. I worry about how I can be really lazy sometimes, and I wonder if there is something wrong with me, like a lack of life motivation.
12. I worry about being the absolute best person I can be, to everyone I meet; I hate it when people don't like me, even though I know I'm not going to be able to please everyone and get everyone to like me.
13. I worry about how freakin' much I worry. This definitely can't be normal.
And this is totally not even all. There is so much more, I just can't even write it all up. Because I know it would take the rest of my life to write about everything that worries me.
I think I need a way to de-stress, a way to be able to get away from everything in my head for just a little while. Right now, my method of coping is sleeping; when I'm asleep, I don't have to think about anything. Dreams are my heart's fantasies and I would rather spend more time in dreamland than in real life.
That is scary. I don't think I have ever actually admitted that I would rather sleep my life away than live it.
So, what do I do now? Meditation? Prayer? Sitting in silence and just letting my thought take over for a while and try to figure everything out? I have no clue anymore.
However, I have figured out one thing. Having nothing to do, like on this little winter break of mine, is so obviously not good for me. I need to be busy to keep my mind off the things that really bother me.
Geeze. That's the sum of all this.
Thursday, December 30, 2010
This Post Really Sucks
I really want to go back to school.
I want to be in my apartment, with my stuff.
I miss my bed.
I miss my couches.
I want to be able to put my clothes and shoes in my closet.
I never knew that being "home" was going to be so stressful.
Gahhhh...
I want to be in my apartment, with my stuff.
I miss my bed.
I miss my couches.
I want to be able to put my clothes and shoes in my closet.
I never knew that being "home" was going to be so stressful.
Gahhhh...
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Short and Sweet
FUDGE!!! Fudge fudge fudge fudge fudge!
Me and my mom are making FUDGE!
And later, my sister and her boyfriend and I are making Christmas cookies!
EEEEE!!!!
Sugar high for the next three days here I come!
Can you tell I'm a tad excited?! :)
Me and my mom are making FUDGE!
And later, my sister and her boyfriend and I are making Christmas cookies!
EEEEE!!!!
Sugar high for the next three days here I come!
Can you tell I'm a tad excited?! :)
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Beer and Cake!
For Christmas, my mother bought my sister's boyfriend nice beer mugs and a really expensive 6-pack of Stella Artois. I mean, $10 for a 6-pack expensive. Something was bound to go wrong when a woman who NEVER buys beer buys really pricy beer.
The 6-pack fell out of the truck and broke. Of course.
She managed to save three of the six bottles and now, guess who is enjoying one?
That's right. I am drinking a bottle of beer that costs almost $2. And it isn't even really that great. I mean, I can't tell the difference between this and Bud Light.
I must not have expensive taste.
On anther note, I made a great cake tonight. Butter pecan. I will post a picture and the recipe.
Of course, I used a nice Christmas-y bundt pan, but any pan would work.
Butter Pecan Cake:
1 box butter pecan cake mix
4 eggs
1 cup water
1/2 cup oil (or substitute the same amount of applesauce!)
1 can pecan/coconut frosting
Mix all ingredients together (yes, even the frosting goes into the batter). Pour into a greased pan (make sure to flour the pan as well if you are using a specialty pan like I did. And a neat little trick: use the dry cake mix instead of flour. No white stuff left over after baking!) Bake the cake for about 50 minutes on 350º.
Here is what it looks like after....
Delicioso! (Said with a sexy Spanish accent of course.)
The 6-pack fell out of the truck and broke. Of course.
She managed to save three of the six bottles and now, guess who is enjoying one?
That's right. I am drinking a bottle of beer that costs almost $2. And it isn't even really that great. I mean, I can't tell the difference between this and Bud Light.
I must not have expensive taste.
On anther note, I made a great cake tonight. Butter pecan. I will post a picture and the recipe.
Of course, I used a nice Christmas-y bundt pan, but any pan would work.
Butter Pecan Cake:
1 box butter pecan cake mix
4 eggs
1 cup water
1/2 cup oil (or substitute the same amount of applesauce!)
1 can pecan/coconut frosting
Mix all ingredients together (yes, even the frosting goes into the batter). Pour into a greased pan (make sure to flour the pan as well if you are using a specialty pan like I did. And a neat little trick: use the dry cake mix instead of flour. No white stuff left over after baking!) Bake the cake for about 50 minutes on 350º.
Here is what it looks like after....
Delicioso! (Said with a sexy Spanish accent of course.)
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Snow? No Thanks.
I came home today. Home, as in where I grew up. Even though I now consider my apartment at school to be home, I suppose this is "real" home. But anyway, more on that later.
This is my point:
It is snowing here and is not going to stop for 2 days.
I am not happy about this. I come home, just to get snowed in and not be able to see any of my long lost high school friends? Not cool weather, not cool at all.
But actually is it cool. Like, 19º cool. So, touché weather, touché.
This is my point:
It is snowing here and is not going to stop for 2 days.
I am not happy about this. I come home, just to get snowed in and not be able to see any of my long lost high school friends? Not cool weather, not cool at all.
But actually is it cool. Like, 19º cool. So, touché weather, touché.
Friday, December 10, 2010
Deep Breath
The semester is over. Can you believe it? My first semester of pharmacy graduate school is over.
OhEmGee.
I just talked to my mother on the phone. She asked me if I was partying it up tonight. Am I? Nope.
I probably should be partying. I'm sure there are lots that I could go to. But to be perfectly honest, I like just being able to sit on the couch and watch TV and not worry about a thing. Well, except for my grades to be posted, but that is another story entirely.
So here I am. One semester of eight down. That's 12.5%. It makes me happy. But I also feel a little weird. I could try to explain it, but I just tried to type it out about five times and just deleted it the same number of times. So I'm not going to worry about trying to explain it. Just trust me. It's kind of like breaking up with a boyfriend because you didn't really like him, but feeling sad about it because you don't have a nice boy to text anymore. But still a little indescribable.
I really don't know what to do with myself right now. But, I kind of like it that way. :)
OhEmGee.
I just talked to my mother on the phone. She asked me if I was partying it up tonight. Am I? Nope.
I probably should be partying. I'm sure there are lots that I could go to. But to be perfectly honest, I like just being able to sit on the couch and watch TV and not worry about a thing. Well, except for my grades to be posted, but that is another story entirely.
So here I am. One semester of eight down. That's 12.5%. It makes me happy. But I also feel a little weird. I could try to explain it, but I just tried to type it out about five times and just deleted it the same number of times. So I'm not going to worry about trying to explain it. Just trust me. It's kind of like breaking up with a boyfriend because you didn't really like him, but feeling sad about it because you don't have a nice boy to text anymore. But still a little indescribable.
I really don't know what to do with myself right now. But, I kind of like it that way. :)
Monday, December 6, 2010
Confession Time
I have a secret. And I am going to let the world know about it.
I LOVE BRUSSEL SPROUTS!
This is what I'm talking about. So completely heavenly. They taste buttery and sweet and slightly crunchy and absolutely delicious.
I love these. They make me feel all good and warm inside. I anticipate them and my mouth starts to water when I know I'm about to eat them. I get so excited. It's almost ridiculous how much I like these. I don't want to share them with anyone and I savor each and every bite.
I think I could marry these brussel sprouts. Now, if only they could cuddle and take out the trash.
UPDATE (12/06/10 @8:00PM): By popular request, here is the recipe I was introduced to that has fueled my love of brussel sprouts.
Roasted Brussel Sprouts:
- Fresh brussel sprouts (not the frozen kind)
- Olive oil
- Salt
Preheat the oven to 350º. Take the top layer off the brussel sprouts and cut them in half. Place in a baking dish with enough olive oil to coat the brussel sprouts. Add salt (preferably sea salt). Bake for 30 minutes.
Then enjoy the best brussel sprouts you will ever, EVER, have. Seriously.
I LOVE BRUSSEL SPROUTS!
I love these. They make me feel all good and warm inside. I anticipate them and my mouth starts to water when I know I'm about to eat them. I get so excited. It's almost ridiculous how much I like these. I don't want to share them with anyone and I savor each and every bite.
I think I could marry these brussel sprouts. Now, if only they could cuddle and take out the trash.
UPDATE (12/06/10 @8:00PM): By popular request, here is the recipe I was introduced to that has fueled my love of brussel sprouts.
Roasted Brussel Sprouts:
- Fresh brussel sprouts (not the frozen kind)
- Olive oil
- Salt
Preheat the oven to 350º. Take the top layer off the brussel sprouts and cut them in half. Place in a baking dish with enough olive oil to coat the brussel sprouts. Add salt (preferably sea salt). Bake for 30 minutes.
Then enjoy the best brussel sprouts you will ever, EVER, have. Seriously.
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Star Wars?
I needed to post a new blog, since I haven't in a loooong time. I think I am getting lazy. Or maybe I am just tired from school and such. But, anyway, here goes. I hope it's not too bad.
I am sitting on Sister's couch. By myself. Watching Star Wars. I have never watched Star Wars before, and I have no idea what is going on. Except right now, Anakin (?) is burning up in a fire. Obi Won did it to him I think. I'm not real sure.And I think Anakin's wife is dying. I have always thought that the little green guy is so cute. Yoda is his name I just learned. I just want to pick him up and cuddle.
I was talking to Sister's boyfriend, before he left for work, and he told me that Anakin's wife has twin babies and they grow up apart, and then they fall in love and then realize they are bother and sister. Ew. There is really something wrong with that. I remember watching a Discovery Channel special about love and sex and all that jazz. It was a while ago, but I remember the narrator explaining that every person has a specific scent, whether we realize it or not. It is not a stinky scent exactly, but more like pheromones, in order to attract the opposite sex.
On a side note, Anakin just got his Darth Vader mask and his wife died.
Now back to the show I was talking about. It stated that we are only attracted to people whom's scent we like. It can be subconscious or not, but we usually do not find our relatives' scents sexually attractive. So that hinders siblings and cousins and such from reproducing together.
So, therefore, there must be something wrong with the twin babies from Star Wars. Luke and Leia. It's just not biologically correct for siblings to fall in love. I am glad they figure it out before they have drater babies.
Read drater backwards and you can figure out what it is. And don't judge me. It was actually Mother who came up with it. I love her. She calls herself a "word smith." She is so clever.
UPDATE (12/02/10): This is why I want to cuddle with Yoda.
Ohhhh yeaaaa. :)
I am sitting on Sister's couch. By myself. Watching Star Wars. I have never watched Star Wars before, and I have no idea what is going on. Except right now, Anakin (?) is burning up in a fire. Obi Won did it to him I think. I'm not real sure.And I think Anakin's wife is dying. I have always thought that the little green guy is so cute. Yoda is his name I just learned. I just want to pick him up and cuddle.
I was talking to Sister's boyfriend, before he left for work, and he told me that Anakin's wife has twin babies and they grow up apart, and then they fall in love and then realize they are bother and sister. Ew. There is really something wrong with that. I remember watching a Discovery Channel special about love and sex and all that jazz. It was a while ago, but I remember the narrator explaining that every person has a specific scent, whether we realize it or not. It is not a stinky scent exactly, but more like pheromones, in order to attract the opposite sex.
On a side note, Anakin just got his Darth Vader mask and his wife died.
Now back to the show I was talking about. It stated that we are only attracted to people whom's scent we like. It can be subconscious or not, but we usually do not find our relatives' scents sexually attractive. So that hinders siblings and cousins and such from reproducing together.
So, therefore, there must be something wrong with the twin babies from Star Wars. Luke and Leia. It's just not biologically correct for siblings to fall in love. I am glad they figure it out before they have drater babies.
Read drater backwards and you can figure out what it is. And don't judge me. It was actually Mother who came up with it. I love her. She calls herself a "word smith." She is so clever.
UPDATE (12/02/10): This is why I want to cuddle with Yoda.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Animosity
It is such a strong word. And I feel as if it is very prevalent at the moment.
The semester is closing down. Finals are coming up. We, my other classmates and I, are getting sick of sitting in the same room. Day in and day out. Listening to the same boring lectures everyday. Or at least I am.
The Student Nurse and I are getting tired of each other's company as well I think. We are barking at each other like mad dogs for no reason every other day. I know it's not because we hate each other, but just more that we are so tired of school and want to spend time with our families for a little while and get out of our apartment. It's not so bad.
I also feel that I am angry at everyone for no reason. The car in front of me is not going fast enough. The lady in the grocery store is taking up too much room looking at the broccoli. I NEED THE BROCCOLI AND SHE NEEDS TO GET OUT OF MY WAY! My car is too cold in the morning and won't heat up fast enough. My clothes need to be washed AND I DON'T WANT TO DO IT RIGHT NOW! That's how I feel about it in my head. With the upper-case letters and all. Horrible, I know.
So, I need the break coming up. School is hard and time-consuming. And tiring. And stress-inducing. I think from now, until the end of the semester, every time I get angry and I know that is it because I'm tired and taking my stress of school out on someone or something else, I am going to picture this picture in my mind.
We will see how well this goes. Wish me luck! :)
The semester is closing down. Finals are coming up. We, my other classmates and I, are getting sick of sitting in the same room. Day in and day out. Listening to the same boring lectures everyday. Or at least I am.
The Student Nurse and I are getting tired of each other's company as well I think. We are barking at each other like mad dogs for no reason every other day. I know it's not because we hate each other, but just more that we are so tired of school and want to spend time with our families for a little while and get out of our apartment. It's not so bad.
I also feel that I am angry at everyone for no reason. The car in front of me is not going fast enough. The lady in the grocery store is taking up too much room looking at the broccoli. I NEED THE BROCCOLI AND SHE NEEDS TO GET OUT OF MY WAY! My car is too cold in the morning and won't heat up fast enough. My clothes need to be washed AND I DON'T WANT TO DO IT RIGHT NOW! That's how I feel about it in my head. With the upper-case letters and all. Horrible, I know.
So, I need the break coming up. School is hard and time-consuming. And tiring. And stress-inducing. I think from now, until the end of the semester, every time I get angry and I know that is it because I'm tired and taking my stress of school out on someone or something else, I am going to picture this picture in my mind.
We will see how well this goes. Wish me luck! :)
Monday, November 15, 2010
Classical Music...and Puppies!
The Student Nurse told me that she read once that listening to classical music increased a person's test scores by 5 points. So I Googled well known classical songs, because I don't want to listen to anything I'm unfamiliar with. I just ended a sentence with a preposition. And I'm not going to change it. I may have hovered over the back button just then so go back and change it, but I decided that this is my blog and I can end sentences with prepositions if I want to. So there. HA! I did it again.
Anyway, I want to relay a conversation The Student Nurse and I had just a few minutes ago.
Me: I love this puppy! Look at it!
*So I showed her this pic of my friend's new puppy. The puppy's name is LuLu. My friend's name will be Pixie. She always has the cutest short hair, so it fits. She is also feisty. Anyway...
The Student Nurse: I hate puppies.
Me: *stares with huge eyes brimming with tears and quivering lips*
The Student Nurse: What?
Me: I can't believe you just said that.
The Student Nurse: I just don't want you wanting a puppy.
Me: Too late for that.
The Student Nurse: I would feed it a hambone. *this is relevant because she had just previously told me a story about how one of her professors fed her small 2-year-old dog a huge hambone and then had to end up taking it to the vet because it was vomiting and pooping blood, only to find out that the hambone had shredded in the dog's intestines and was cutting it*
Me: You are evil. *I'm not sure if I actually said that, as I can't exactly remember what I said at this point because I was in utter shock, but this is surely what I was thinking*
Right at this moment in the conversation, as I said something like, "You are so terrible" in the meanest way possible and with a look of "You should burn for that", Beethoven's 5th Symphony started to play. If you aren't familiar with this piece, I'm posting a link for it below so you can get the full effect of how epic this moment was.
This basically made my night.
Oh, and I am really excited I'm finally starting to figure this thing out and that now I can make it interesting with pictures and such. Go me!
Beethoven's 5th Symphony
Anyway, I want to relay a conversation The Student Nurse and I had just a few minutes ago.
Me: I love this puppy! Look at it!
*So I showed her this pic of my friend's new puppy. The puppy's name is LuLu. My friend's name will be Pixie. She always has the cutest short hair, so it fits. She is also feisty. Anyway...
The Student Nurse: I hate puppies.
Me: *stares with huge eyes brimming with tears and quivering lips*
The Student Nurse: What?
Me: I can't believe you just said that.
The Student Nurse: I just don't want you wanting a puppy.
Me: Too late for that.
The Student Nurse: I would feed it a hambone. *this is relevant because she had just previously told me a story about how one of her professors fed her small 2-year-old dog a huge hambone and then had to end up taking it to the vet because it was vomiting and pooping blood, only to find out that the hambone had shredded in the dog's intestines and was cutting it*
Me: You are evil. *I'm not sure if I actually said that, as I can't exactly remember what I said at this point because I was in utter shock, but this is surely what I was thinking*
Right at this moment in the conversation, as I said something like, "You are so terrible" in the meanest way possible and with a look of "You should burn for that", Beethoven's 5th Symphony started to play. If you aren't familiar with this piece, I'm posting a link for it below so you can get the full effect of how epic this moment was.
This basically made my night.
Oh, and I am really excited I'm finally starting to figure this thing out and that now I can make it interesting with pictures and such. Go me!
Beethoven's 5th Symphony
I've Learned How to Insert Pictures!
This is from The Student Nurse and I's date night at Panera Bread last Friday. We were there for about 4 hours. Doing homework. I think we are such a fun couple. :)
Here are some more pictures for your enjoyment.
This is our "We are pretending to be just about dead, but we still think we look kinda cute" look. I think it is quite nice.
So besides studying all night at Panera on Friday, I had a Harry Potter movie marathon weekend with two of my other friends. That is literally all I did this weekend. We watched all six movies. ALL SIX OF THEM. In a row, over tow days. Yea, we are pretty much beasts.
But we were only getting prepared for the midnight premier of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 1, on Thursday night. I have midnight tickets. I feel as if my life has no purpose until Thursday night. My life has been leading up to this event.
The Student Nurse wasn't too happy about me having my Harry Potter weekend. She wondered how I could get away with it, seeing as how I am in grad school and all, and I should just be studying my butt off all the time. But here is my answer to that: I don't want to go crazy. What good is a Doctorate degree going to do me, if I have lost my mind on my way to it? Nothing. So, if I must spend one weekend doing just what I want to do in order for me to keep my sanity, I'm going to do it.
Anyway, in other news, there are only eight more days until I get out of school for Thanksgiving break. And yes, I did just have to look at a calendar to figure that out. No, I don't have a countdown right now, but I think that would be a fantastic idea. Something fun to add to my desktop. I'm going to get on that.
The Student Nurse and I are going out tonight to celebrate her passing a huge test this morning. We have date night often. It keeps our relationship fresh.
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Fortune Teller
I think I am beginning to foresee the future.
I'm completely serious.
I had a dream...on Saturday night. I dreamed about a guy I will call Famous Boy. This guy is actually famous. He is in a band, not really a well-known band, but well-known enough that the band was on MTV once. Which is cool. And I know Famous Boy through association with Sister and Mother. Sister knows Famous Boy because they went out (?). And Mother nows Famous Boy because she works with Famous Boy's mother. Awesome, yea? I know famous people through the Six Degrees of Separation. Gotta love it.
But anyway, back to my dream. I dreamed that Sister and I went to a concert of Famous Boy's band. We were having a great time, music was fun and loud and we were happy. After the concert, Sister and I went to go talk to Famous Boy. Sister told Famous Boy that she wanted to sing for the band. She can actually sing pretty well, so this was not an absurd request. So Famous Boy told Sister that he woud be happy for her to sing in the band. We got all excited and I got out my camera and then Sister and Famous Boy's band started to practice together while I took pictures. It was a great dream, exactly what a dream should be. I woke up happy, unlike most dreams I wake up from in a cold sweat and then I can't go back to sleep. Like the night right after this one.
I digress. By Sunday afternoon, I had forgotten all about the dream I had the night before. The Student Nurse and I were out trying on dresses we couldn't afford to buy and I get a text message. I whip out my cell phone and the message is from FaceBook. It was a new friend request. Guess who?
Yep, that's right. It was Famous Boy. I was so freaked out because just then the dream came rushing back into my memory. I was stunned. Of course I told The Student Nurse about it and she said, "I wish I had dreams like yours."
Famous Boy and I are now FaceBook friends. :-)
But here is the scary part. The next night, I dreamed that my apartment was robbed wile I was visiting family. Robbed right down to the furniture, everything was gone. I woke up with an intense feeling of loss and sadness. It wasn't a fun dream. And I surely hope that doesn't happen in real life. But there was one main difference. In my dream, the time period was Western. The Famous Boy dream was present day. Maybe I have been watching way too much Dr. Quinn.
So my dilemma now is this: how do I control my powers of foresight? If I dream about it, it might happen. Or something similar might happen at the least. Hopefully I will keep dreaming in past eras. That would be ok with me. I like how the men looked back then. Especially if they all looked like Sully and Matthew.
I'm completely serious.
I had a dream...on Saturday night. I dreamed about a guy I will call Famous Boy. This guy is actually famous. He is in a band, not really a well-known band, but well-known enough that the band was on MTV once. Which is cool. And I know Famous Boy through association with Sister and Mother. Sister knows Famous Boy because they went out (?). And Mother nows Famous Boy because she works with Famous Boy's mother. Awesome, yea? I know famous people through the Six Degrees of Separation. Gotta love it.
But anyway, back to my dream. I dreamed that Sister and I went to a concert of Famous Boy's band. We were having a great time, music was fun and loud and we were happy. After the concert, Sister and I went to go talk to Famous Boy. Sister told Famous Boy that she wanted to sing for the band. She can actually sing pretty well, so this was not an absurd request. So Famous Boy told Sister that he woud be happy for her to sing in the band. We got all excited and I got out my camera and then Sister and Famous Boy's band started to practice together while I took pictures. It was a great dream, exactly what a dream should be. I woke up happy, unlike most dreams I wake up from in a cold sweat and then I can't go back to sleep. Like the night right after this one.
I digress. By Sunday afternoon, I had forgotten all about the dream I had the night before. The Student Nurse and I were out trying on dresses we couldn't afford to buy and I get a text message. I whip out my cell phone and the message is from FaceBook. It was a new friend request. Guess who?
Yep, that's right. It was Famous Boy. I was so freaked out because just then the dream came rushing back into my memory. I was stunned. Of course I told The Student Nurse about it and she said, "I wish I had dreams like yours."
Famous Boy and I are now FaceBook friends. :-)
But here is the scary part. The next night, I dreamed that my apartment was robbed wile I was visiting family. Robbed right down to the furniture, everything was gone. I woke up with an intense feeling of loss and sadness. It wasn't a fun dream. And I surely hope that doesn't happen in real life. But there was one main difference. In my dream, the time period was Western. The Famous Boy dream was present day. Maybe I have been watching way too much Dr. Quinn.
So my dilemma now is this: how do I control my powers of foresight? If I dream about it, it might happen. Or something similar might happen at the least. Hopefully I will keep dreaming in past eras. That would be ok with me. I like how the men looked back then. Especially if they all looked like Sully and Matthew.
Monday, November 1, 2010
I'm Such a Baby
It is just a little after 6pm. I have eaten dinner, thanks mostly to The Student Nurse, and I am ready to go to bed. I have been awake for less than 12 hours, and I am exhausted. Completely pooped.
I must have a deficiency somewhere right? This isn't normal! Maybe it's pharmacy school. I have a t-shirt ordered actually that says, "Caution: Pharmacy School may make you drowsy." That's for dern sure.
So, I have decided that I am going to do my homework, and go to bed. Hopefully I will be zonked out by 9pm. Good goal, huh?
I must have a deficiency somewhere right? This isn't normal! Maybe it's pharmacy school. I have a t-shirt ordered actually that says, "Caution: Pharmacy School may make you drowsy." That's for dern sure.
So, I have decided that I am going to do my homework, and go to bed. Hopefully I will be zonked out by 9pm. Good goal, huh?
Saturday, October 30, 2010
CareNet Banquet, The Student Nurse, Pancakes, and Cleaning
I'm back. Back in a better mood that is. Sometimes I just get down in the dumps. But it's over now. Thank goodness. =)
So since I posted last, absolutely nothing interesting has happened. I've been to school. I've done homework. I've slept and ate. Oh, and I got really dressed up yesterday and went to a nice banquet that The Student Nurse invited me to.
The banquet was for CareNet PRCs. It was nice. Virginia's Attorney General, Ken Cuccinelli, was the keynote speaker. I was surprised that a man that was publicly voted into office was such a bad public speaker. I was disappointed actually. He seemed nervous and it just felt awkward at times.
The food was also kind of disappointing. There was UN-sweet tea. Which is weird. But I suppose since it was in Northern Virginia they don't do the Southern sweet tea thing (?). The salad was really yummy. The entree was grilled chicken and mashed potatoes and asparagus. I love asparagus. I was happy. Although the 'taters where hard. But then the cheesecake for dessert was pretty good.
The whole time we were eating during the banquet, there was wait staff picking up plates and refilling drinks and things like that. I couldn't help but think, "Gosh, I know exactly what that's like." I worked in a restaurant in a state park for three summers in a row. I did plenty of banquets in my time there. I tried to be as nice to the wait staff as I could because I know what it's like when a bunch of rich people are eating and talking and not wanting you to bother them, but you have to do your job. I know. I've been there.
I liked the director's (of CareNet) speech the best. She seemed very genuine and told good stories that exemplified the purpose of CareNet. I teared up a little I will admit.
But, the best bestest part was....putting on a nice dress and heels. I love getting all dressy and parading around like I'm something special. I felt great. My hair looked good (except it was static-y and was angering me) and my make-up was phenomenal, if I do say so myself. Although I could barely stand to walk in my heels by the end of the night (even though we were sitting most of the time), I was happy.
As we were driving home from the banquet last night, The Student Nurse and I had about an hour to sit in the car. We had a really good conversation about controversial issues and our different stands on them. I'm really happy that I have a friend that I can talk to about these issues, and she still respects me after hearing how I think. Not many people are like this. It's either their way or the highway. But The Student Nurse and I can agree to disagree. I like it.
But she can be crazy. Like the other day, I was trying to take a nap. The Student Nurse comes into my room and hops on my bed and starts panting. Panting for goodness sakes. Like a dog. The she says, "I'm a puppy, I'm a puppy! Play with me!" I wish I was making this up. She wouldn't let me nap either. It was like she needed attention or something...
Here is another example of being just plain weird. This morning, I was still asleep in my bed and The Student Nurse comes in and gets under the covers of my bed, pushing me to the other side. This isn't the weird part. The odd part is that she wanted me to get out of my bed, while she was still laying there. What. The. Heck.
But then I made pancakes with mint chocolate chips and the world was right again.
Until I started to have a clean-freak moment and swept and mopped the kitchen. I also did all the dishes, put the dirty kitchen rugs in the washer, cleaned my bathroom (including getting on my hands and knees and cleaning the floor), and picked up the living room a bit. I don't know where this comes from sometimes. Most of the time I am OK with the clutter and I always feel like the dishes can wait. I have better, more important things to do in life than worry about the dishes and such. But then I get in these moods and I run around cleaning everything.
Alrighty, enough randomness for one post I do believe.
So since I posted last, absolutely nothing interesting has happened. I've been to school. I've done homework. I've slept and ate. Oh, and I got really dressed up yesterday and went to a nice banquet that The Student Nurse invited me to.
The banquet was for CareNet PRCs. It was nice. Virginia's Attorney General, Ken Cuccinelli, was the keynote speaker. I was surprised that a man that was publicly voted into office was such a bad public speaker. I was disappointed actually. He seemed nervous and it just felt awkward at times.
The food was also kind of disappointing. There was UN-sweet tea. Which is weird. But I suppose since it was in Northern Virginia they don't do the Southern sweet tea thing (?). The salad was really yummy. The entree was grilled chicken and mashed potatoes and asparagus. I love asparagus. I was happy. Although the 'taters where hard. But then the cheesecake for dessert was pretty good.
The whole time we were eating during the banquet, there was wait staff picking up plates and refilling drinks and things like that. I couldn't help but think, "Gosh, I know exactly what that's like." I worked in a restaurant in a state park for three summers in a row. I did plenty of banquets in my time there. I tried to be as nice to the wait staff as I could because I know what it's like when a bunch of rich people are eating and talking and not wanting you to bother them, but you have to do your job. I know. I've been there.
I liked the director's (of CareNet) speech the best. She seemed very genuine and told good stories that exemplified the purpose of CareNet. I teared up a little I will admit.
But, the best bestest part was....putting on a nice dress and heels. I love getting all dressy and parading around like I'm something special. I felt great. My hair looked good (except it was static-y and was angering me) and my make-up was phenomenal, if I do say so myself. Although I could barely stand to walk in my heels by the end of the night (even though we were sitting most of the time), I was happy.
As we were driving home from the banquet last night, The Student Nurse and I had about an hour to sit in the car. We had a really good conversation about controversial issues and our different stands on them. I'm really happy that I have a friend that I can talk to about these issues, and she still respects me after hearing how I think. Not many people are like this. It's either their way or the highway. But The Student Nurse and I can agree to disagree. I like it.
But she can be crazy. Like the other day, I was trying to take a nap. The Student Nurse comes into my room and hops on my bed and starts panting. Panting for goodness sakes. Like a dog. The she says, "I'm a puppy, I'm a puppy! Play with me!" I wish I was making this up. She wouldn't let me nap either. It was like she needed attention or something...
Here is another example of being just plain weird. This morning, I was still asleep in my bed and The Student Nurse comes in and gets under the covers of my bed, pushing me to the other side. This isn't the weird part. The odd part is that she wanted me to get out of my bed, while she was still laying there. What. The. Heck.
But then I made pancakes with mint chocolate chips and the world was right again.
Until I started to have a clean-freak moment and swept and mopped the kitchen. I also did all the dishes, put the dirty kitchen rugs in the washer, cleaned my bathroom (including getting on my hands and knees and cleaning the floor), and picked up the living room a bit. I don't know where this comes from sometimes. Most of the time I am OK with the clutter and I always feel like the dishes can wait. I have better, more important things to do in life than worry about the dishes and such. But then I get in these moods and I run around cleaning everything.
Alrighty, enough randomness for one post I do believe.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Not Really A Happy Post...
I don't know how to get what I want. Or maybe it's that I don't even know what I really want. I mean, I think I know that I want. Most of the time. Or at least I know what I want in the moment. But it changes with whatever is going on in my life at the time. Does that make me fickle? Or just a regular woman with mood swings like usual?
I'm warning you know. This might be a rant. I will try to make this brief.
I try really hard not to wear my heart on my sleeve, but it just seem inevitable. One thing goes right for me and I put myself up on a pedestal. I feel like I'm on top of the world. I can do anything. So I let myself go. I feel invincible. I put myself out there and the world is beautiful.
But then crap happens. Murphy's Law. (I just had to Google that by the way.) If something bad can happen, it will happen. I think it's God's way of saying, "get your head out of the clouds girl!" So my heart gets broken, my stress level rises dramatically, and I start to have mini-freak-outs. I just want to sleep all the time and not have to worry about my life anymore.
And then, as suddenly as it started, it's over. I know this happens to me, but I can't seem to get out of the vicious cycle. I know I'm only hurting myself. Maybe writing it out like this will help. I've heard that you are supposed to tell someone when you are about to do something major. So here it is:
I am not going to get so worked up over the little things anymore. I am not going to stress over nothing. I am not going to put myself on the line unless I know I can live through the fall.
I know God has my back. I may not know exactly where He is trying to lead me at all times, and that can get stressful because I like to have control over everything that happens to me. But I need to let that control-freak part of me go.
But back to me getting what I want.... I can obviously achieve my goals, or I wouldn't be sitting on this nice couch my parents bought me in the nice apartment that my school loan is paying for in the town where I am attending an expensive private college for pharmacy. I can apply myself to get where I want to go. It is just hard for me once I get there. I think I am afraid of being a success. A successful failure that is.
I'm not sure where else I want to go with this, so before it gets way too ridiculous, I'm just going to stop. Hopefully my warning from earlier was sufficient enough. I hope you didn't get this far and are now yelling at me, "You are crazy! I can't believe I just read this crap!" So, I'm sorry. I will have fun stories to tell soon. :)
I'm warning you know. This might be a rant. I will try to make this brief.
I try really hard not to wear my heart on my sleeve, but it just seem inevitable. One thing goes right for me and I put myself up on a pedestal. I feel like I'm on top of the world. I can do anything. So I let myself go. I feel invincible. I put myself out there and the world is beautiful.
But then crap happens. Murphy's Law. (I just had to Google that by the way.) If something bad can happen, it will happen. I think it's God's way of saying, "get your head out of the clouds girl!" So my heart gets broken, my stress level rises dramatically, and I start to have mini-freak-outs. I just want to sleep all the time and not have to worry about my life anymore.
And then, as suddenly as it started, it's over. I know this happens to me, but I can't seem to get out of the vicious cycle. I know I'm only hurting myself. Maybe writing it out like this will help. I've heard that you are supposed to tell someone when you are about to do something major. So here it is:
I am not going to get so worked up over the little things anymore. I am not going to stress over nothing. I am not going to put myself on the line unless I know I can live through the fall.
I know God has my back. I may not know exactly where He is trying to lead me at all times, and that can get stressful because I like to have control over everything that happens to me. But I need to let that control-freak part of me go.
But back to me getting what I want.... I can obviously achieve my goals, or I wouldn't be sitting on this nice couch my parents bought me in the nice apartment that my school loan is paying for in the town where I am attending an expensive private college for pharmacy. I can apply myself to get where I want to go. It is just hard for me once I get there. I think I am afraid of being a success. A successful failure that is.
I'm not sure where else I want to go with this, so before it gets way too ridiculous, I'm just going to stop. Hopefully my warning from earlier was sufficient enough. I hope you didn't get this far and are now yelling at me, "You are crazy! I can't believe I just read this crap!" So, I'm sorry. I will have fun stories to tell soon. :)
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Movin' On Up!
I have been studying all day. Literally from the time I woke up, at about 10:30, until now. I will admit I took a short break to eat dinner. But that's about it. I have an exam tomorrow that is probably going to give me angina. And then I'm going to have a heart attack and die right there in class during the exam. I bet the professors will feel real bad about giving us so much material then. Or they might just think that one down isn't really a big deal.
On another, more positive note, a few minutes ago I was checking my stats for this blog. A few pageviews today. Nothing major. Until I saw that I had a page view from Canada, or Canadia, as the Guidos on Jersey Shore would say. Yes, I admit I watch that too. I guess I just have a very eclectic TV show preference.
A view from freakin' Canada! I have a worldwide audience now. I feel pretty good about that. Let's keep this up.
=)
On another, more positive note, a few minutes ago I was checking my stats for this blog. A few pageviews today. Nothing major. Until I saw that I had a page view from Canada, or Canadia, as the Guidos on Jersey Shore would say. Yes, I admit I watch that too. I guess I just have a very eclectic TV show preference.
A view from freakin' Canada! I have a worldwide audience now. I feel pretty good about that. Let's keep this up.
=)
Friday, October 22, 2010
Friday Night Woes
I am studying. Or trying to study. I don't think I actually know how to study. Highschool was a joke; undergrad was a teeny baby step up. Now, grad school is kicking my butt. It has really been a shock.
But the point is this: it is a Friday night and here I am , curled up on the couch with The Student Nurse, studying by candle light, inhaling vanilla scent. We don't even have the TV on. And I really want the chocolate cake in the fridge with a huge scoop of mint chocolate chip ice cream.
My life has gone horribly wrong somewhere.
But the point is this: it is a Friday night and here I am , curled up on the couch with The Student Nurse, studying by candle light, inhaling vanilla scent. We don't even have the TV on. And I really want the chocolate cake in the fridge with a huge scoop of mint chocolate chip ice cream.
My life has gone horribly wrong somewhere.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Can't Say I Didn't Warn You...
Everyone has a pet peeve right? Some people don't like liars, or people who only think about themselves. Some people don't like people who don't use their turn signal. Or people that don't use coasters on the nice furniture. Personally, I actually hate all of these things too. I want to ram into the back of people's cars when they slam on their brakes for seemingly no reason, and then turn. I yell and scream. I don't want water rings on the furniture that my parents gave me for my apartment. I want my stuff to look nice. And of course I don't like selfish people or liars.
But you know what really gets me? NAIL BITERS. I cannot stand to see someone with their fingers in their mouth gnawing on their nails. Where have their hands been prior to biting on their nails? And then, what are they going to touch with their disgusting spit hands that have just been in their mouth? I am probably going to get some kind of horrible disease because of nail biters. Mark my word.
And the worst part about me hating nail biters? The Student Nurse is a nail biter. A habitual nail biter. I want to scream sometimes. Actually, I want to scream every time she does it. Which is often. Just today, we were in the car coming back home from working out at school, and she was biting her nails. In MY car.
Me: I hate that.
The Student Nurse: I'm sorry.
Me: If you don't stop, I'm going to write about it in my blog.
The Student Nurse: NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!
Me: Yep. So stop.
The Student Nurse: Don't do it please!
Me: It's just so disgusting. I mean, where do the little bits go?
The Student Nurse: ...I don't know...
Me: *gag*
After that conversation, she stopped. For a while. Obviously not forever or I wouldn't be writing about it right?
So here we are, sitting at the kitchen table (the kitchen table, where we eat), and I hear this sucking and gnawing and teeth-hitting-teeth noise. I look up and sure enough, The Student Nurse has her thumb in her mouth, chewing on her nail.
Me: That's it. I warned you.
The Student Nurse: AHHHH!!! NOOOOO!!!
Me: I told you what would happen if you didn't stop biting your nails.
The Student Nurse: *freaking out*
Me: *hard glare*
The Student Nurse: Fine. I will just write about it first.
Me: Don't. You. Dare.
The Student Nurse: *shrugs*
Me: If you do it, I won't talk to you for two days.
The Student Nurse: That's ok. I like to be alone on Friday an Saturday.
Me. Tomorrow is Thursday.
The Student Nurse: *eyes widen* NOOOO!!!!!
She is over there now typing furiously. She better not be blogging about her nail biting before I can post this.
But she is still biting her nails. As I type this. Her fingers are in her mouth. Chewing her nails to the quick. Making me want to throw up.
Thank you The Student Nurse. My dinner will be just as good coming up as it was going down I'm sure. :-/
But you know what really gets me? NAIL BITERS. I cannot stand to see someone with their fingers in their mouth gnawing on their nails. Where have their hands been prior to biting on their nails? And then, what are they going to touch with their disgusting spit hands that have just been in their mouth? I am probably going to get some kind of horrible disease because of nail biters. Mark my word.
And the worst part about me hating nail biters? The Student Nurse is a nail biter. A habitual nail biter. I want to scream sometimes. Actually, I want to scream every time she does it. Which is often. Just today, we were in the car coming back home from working out at school, and she was biting her nails. In MY car.
Me: I hate that.
The Student Nurse: I'm sorry.
Me: If you don't stop, I'm going to write about it in my blog.
The Student Nurse: NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!
Me: Yep. So stop.
The Student Nurse: Don't do it please!
Me: It's just so disgusting. I mean, where do the little bits go?
The Student Nurse: ...I don't know...
Me: *gag*
After that conversation, she stopped. For a while. Obviously not forever or I wouldn't be writing about it right?
So here we are, sitting at the kitchen table (the kitchen table, where we eat), and I hear this sucking and gnawing and teeth-hitting-teeth noise. I look up and sure enough, The Student Nurse has her thumb in her mouth, chewing on her nail.
Me: That's it. I warned you.
The Student Nurse: AHHHH!!! NOOOOO!!!
Me: I told you what would happen if you didn't stop biting your nails.
The Student Nurse: *freaking out*
Me: *hard glare*
The Student Nurse: Fine. I will just write about it first.
Me: Don't. You. Dare.
The Student Nurse: *shrugs*
Me: If you do it, I won't talk to you for two days.
The Student Nurse: That's ok. I like to be alone on Friday an Saturday.
Me. Tomorrow is Thursday.
The Student Nurse: *eyes widen* NOOOO!!!!!
She is over there now typing furiously. She better not be blogging about her nail biting before I can post this.
But she is still biting her nails. As I type this. Her fingers are in her mouth. Chewing her nails to the quick. Making me want to throw up.
Thank you The Student Nurse. My dinner will be just as good coming up as it was going down I'm sure. :-/
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
I Should Have Been a Hand Model
I have long, skinny fingers. Like how you would imagine a skeleton's hands looking. Bony. Maybe a better comparison would be to E.T.'s fingers. Especially when he points to the sky and his pointer finger lights up and he says, "E.T. phone home." Remember how his fingers looked in that scene? Now you know what my hands look like. Except I'm a real white girl and not an alien with a big head. Although, I might have a slightly large head too. That's what my aunt says anyway. And my pointer fingers don't light up. It is kind of a bummer. It would have really helped in that haunted house.
My mother enrolled me in piano lessons (against my will) when I was about 6 years old. My sister and I went kicking and screaming to every lesson. The only exciting thing I remember about it was when my father took us to a grocery store after our very first lesson to buy each of us a notebook that our teacher would write our lessons and "homework" in every week. We got to pick out what color we wanted. It made me think that maybe piano lessons wouldn't be so horrible since I had an awesome colored notebook that I would tote in every week. I was wrong.
I learned the basics of how to play the piano. I learned how to read music and my basic chords. I even learned how to play "Chop Sticks" and the "Heart and Soul" duet with my sister. We stayed with our first teacher for about 4 years, and then we moved to a new town. My mother of course found us a new teacher immediately. Betty Reed.
Mrs. Reed was a nice enough older lady. She could play the piano exceptionally well and taught several of our classmates from our new school. So we began with our new teacher. She was appalled that we knew so little after having four years of piano lessons already. She wanted to take us to bigger and better things. She told us about recitals we would perform in. Our pictures would even be in the newspapers! I will admit, I was kind of excited. I was going to be a prodigy!
That never panned out needless to say. I soon realized that I still hated to play the piano. Whenever Mrs. Reed would ask us to choose our own pieces for the recitals, I would always choose dark, moody pieces so I could let out my frustration on the keys. Mrs. Reed became to expect this from me, but she also tried to sneak in a few happier pieces, like Canon in D. No. My experience with Canon in D has ruined that song for me. It will NOT be played at my wedding.
Getting us to practice was torture. When I knew I had to practice, it was like my hair was being pulled from my head strand by strand. A slow, painful torture. I really hated it. And Mrs. Reed always knew when I hadn't practiced enough for the lessons. She would look at me like she just knew. I would try to stammer out that I had practiced enough but the piece was just too hard for me, but she knew. She knew I was lazy.
But it didn't seem to matter how lazy I was every week. No matter what, she would comment on my hands. "You have such long fingers, it is so easy for you to reach an octave!" "Your hands are beautiful piano player hands!" "If you would apply yourself, your long fingers will really help you to get better!" It was creepy. Here I am, a 12 year old girl, being told her hands are really going to get her places. Mrs. Reed would even comment about my hands in front of people I didn't know at recitals. Once, I got an award for Most Improved. But I really think it was just because she had some weird fetish with my hands.
Eventually, my mother let us stop taking piano lessons. We hit high school and just got too busy for the lessons every week. My mother told us she was heartbroken over it, but I think she was secretly relieved not to have to hear my sister and I banging on the piano like a couple of woodpeckers would bang on a tree after she had to yell at us to practice in the first place. But still, my mother would sometimes comment on my hands, saying the same things Mrs. Reed would say. Except she eventually started to add in, "You should be a hand model!"
As I got older, I became aware of my scrawny hands. They were actually quite nice looking. At every family function, I would try and make sure that my hands were in the forefront and that people would comment on them. I would even grab my grandmother's hand just so she would say something out loud about how beautiful she thought my hands were. Which she would. Which would make me feel even better.
I tried my hardest to figure out how to actually become a hand model. I eventually realized that I would have to get serious about my hand maintenance. I would also have to make a portfolio. A Portfolio. I was WAY to lazy to get serious about hand modeling. I mean, I was not going to be so vain as to take pictures of my hands holding things. or modeling jewelry. I will spend hours in front of the mirror every morning, however, to make sure my face looks the best it can. But my hands? Nope.
I went off to college majoring in pre-pharmacy. I am going to a private university, so it is quite expensive. My mother, the first two years, would often say that I should get into hand modeling "on the side" to help pay for school. I felt like my mother wanted me to get a pimp and use myself for money. Well, my hands at least. Sounds dirty, right?
Obviously, that never panned out.
So, in four years, I will hopefully be a pharmacist. That kind of uses my hands. My hands will probably end up getting wrinkles prematurely. I'm really going to hate that.
Monday, October 18, 2010
The Clown Incident
Friday night, my roomie, The Student Nurse, and I were sitting on the couch, not really doing anything at all. Actually, we were probably watching Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman, but I don't really like to admit that.
The Student Nurse gets a text from Miss Erratic. Miss Erratic had been at work all night but she called The Student Nurse telling her that as soon as she reached our house, we were to jump in the car with her. She was going to take us to a haunted house.
Immediately, I get butterflies in my stomach. I don't really like to be scared. I already have anxiety issues, and throwing a haunted house on top of me out of no where did nothing to help this fact. I like to be able to calm down and not shake uncontrollably or have that nervous pee feeling. Usually, this takes a long while to do and often includes me pacing around the house with my eyes closed and taking deep heaving breaths. But Miss Erratic had other ideas. She is spontaneous. She had to go to the haunted house. Now.
So The Student Nurse and I grabbed our sweaters and headed out the door. We got into Miss Erratic's car and hit the road. We actually made a few wrong turns, but we eventually found the place. In the middle of the country. Basically no where. In the dark. It was a huge farm with a horrible, rocky, creepy, tree-lined driveway. And no one knew where we were going. That is the first rule; tell someone where you are going so if you die, at least they will know where to look for your body.
We pulled up into a field and there were other cars there. That made me feel better. The fact that other people are going to be in there getting scared on purpose just like I was going to do, made it seem not so crazy to me. We got our tickets and then got in line. It was slightly chilly, but normal for an October night. But the chill in the air did not explain my shivering. No, that was the anticipation of things popping out in front of me building up in my chest, ready to be let out in continuous blood-curdling screams.
We reached the front of the line and finally it was our turn. Deep breath. I made Miss Erratic go first as there was no way I was going head first into the unknown. I also made The Student Nurse go last, so I wouldn't get snuck up on from behind. Legitimate fears you know.
It started off not so bad. We had a tour guide so we weren't going in completely unaware. I screamed a little. I was actually very proud of myself for not peeing. Yet.
Then we got to be birthed. Literally. The tour guide shoved us through these dense beanbag-like black things hanging from the ceiling. It was a tight fit and snug and claustrophobia-producing. But really, all I could think about while I was getting through it was, "My hair is going to look like a hot mess after this." Later, The Student Nurse told me all she could think about was how she was sad she never got to experience being birthed the normal way; she was a C-section baby. I hope this experience resolved any standing issues she might have had with that.
After that, we had to walk through a pitch black maze. No big deal. I was just following Miss Erratic. The only bad part about it was The Clown waiting for me at the end. He scared me. I screamed, probably a little too loudly. And then he started coming for me.
He knew I was the weak link. I had no choice but to back up, with The Student Nurse clinging to my sweater behind me. I backed up as far as I could go, straight into a corner. I knew I was squishing The Student Nurse, but The Clown was in my face. I could feel him breathing on me. I was scared. And then, The Clown stepped on my toes. He actually stepped on me. It hurt. He had clompy shoes on and I just had flip flops. I got angry.
Me: You stepped on me!
The Clown: *heavy breathing*
Me: You STEPPED on ME!
The Clown: *sigh* Sorry.
Me: .....
The Clown: RAHHHHAHAHH!!
Me: ....
He finally backed up and let me continue on my way through the haunted house. By the time The Student Nurse and I had gotten past The Clown, Miss Erratic was already way ahead. We never really did catch up to her until we got to the end.
After The Clown incident, I do not think I will ever be able to take haunted houses seriously again.
I might even be able to get over my extreme fear of chainsaw wielding crazy men. But not likely.
The Student Nurse gets a text from Miss Erratic. Miss Erratic had been at work all night but she called The Student Nurse telling her that as soon as she reached our house, we were to jump in the car with her. She was going to take us to a haunted house.
Immediately, I get butterflies in my stomach. I don't really like to be scared. I already have anxiety issues, and throwing a haunted house on top of me out of no where did nothing to help this fact. I like to be able to calm down and not shake uncontrollably or have that nervous pee feeling. Usually, this takes a long while to do and often includes me pacing around the house with my eyes closed and taking deep heaving breaths. But Miss Erratic had other ideas. She is spontaneous. She had to go to the haunted house. Now.
So The Student Nurse and I grabbed our sweaters and headed out the door. We got into Miss Erratic's car and hit the road. We actually made a few wrong turns, but we eventually found the place. In the middle of the country. Basically no where. In the dark. It was a huge farm with a horrible, rocky, creepy, tree-lined driveway. And no one knew where we were going. That is the first rule; tell someone where you are going so if you die, at least they will know where to look for your body.
We pulled up into a field and there were other cars there. That made me feel better. The fact that other people are going to be in there getting scared on purpose just like I was going to do, made it seem not so crazy to me. We got our tickets and then got in line. It was slightly chilly, but normal for an October night. But the chill in the air did not explain my shivering. No, that was the anticipation of things popping out in front of me building up in my chest, ready to be let out in continuous blood-curdling screams.
We reached the front of the line and finally it was our turn. Deep breath. I made Miss Erratic go first as there was no way I was going head first into the unknown. I also made The Student Nurse go last, so I wouldn't get snuck up on from behind. Legitimate fears you know.
It started off not so bad. We had a tour guide so we weren't going in completely unaware. I screamed a little. I was actually very proud of myself for not peeing. Yet.
Then we got to be birthed. Literally. The tour guide shoved us through these dense beanbag-like black things hanging from the ceiling. It was a tight fit and snug and claustrophobia-producing. But really, all I could think about while I was getting through it was, "My hair is going to look like a hot mess after this." Later, The Student Nurse told me all she could think about was how she was sad she never got to experience being birthed the normal way; she was a C-section baby. I hope this experience resolved any standing issues she might have had with that.
After that, we had to walk through a pitch black maze. No big deal. I was just following Miss Erratic. The only bad part about it was The Clown waiting for me at the end. He scared me. I screamed, probably a little too loudly. And then he started coming for me.
He knew I was the weak link. I had no choice but to back up, with The Student Nurse clinging to my sweater behind me. I backed up as far as I could go, straight into a corner. I knew I was squishing The Student Nurse, but The Clown was in my face. I could feel him breathing on me. I was scared. And then, The Clown stepped on my toes. He actually stepped on me. It hurt. He had clompy shoes on and I just had flip flops. I got angry.
Me: You stepped on me!
The Clown: *heavy breathing*
Me: You STEPPED on ME!
The Clown: *sigh* Sorry.
Me: .....
The Clown: RAHHHHAHAHH!!
Me: ....
He finally backed up and let me continue on my way through the haunted house. By the time The Student Nurse and I had gotten past The Clown, Miss Erratic was already way ahead. We never really did catch up to her until we got to the end.
After The Clown incident, I do not think I will ever be able to take haunted houses seriously again.
I might even be able to get over my extreme fear of chainsaw wielding crazy men. But not likely.
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