Feeling Terrible

Taken from sunshinerosepetal 

I sat in my room holding my Yelling Bird for half an hour or so this morning.  The skin around my eyes is tender from crying so much.  I feel completely awful.  I feel used, led on, unwanted, and hurt.  Everything hurts.

At least he came to see me like I asked him to.  I wasn't going to let myself be broken up with via phone or text or IM or something really stupid and impersonal like that.  But the visit involved a lot of my tears and a lot of his apologies and a lot us hugging and cuddling and me weeping into his sweater.  I was just hurting so much.

And, I guess with hindsight 20/20, maybe there were signs that he wasn't totally into it.  But that's difficult because we were basically constant throughout the passed two months.  I mean, we did fight twice.  But every couple fights especially when you don't see each other for a while.  And it wasn't for lack of communication.

We talked.  A lot.  He just never thought about it...scratch that, he never thought.  And the part that kills me is that he just didn't know any better.  And that I did everything right and was the best girlfriend ever.  It just sucks.  And I feel terrible.  Just terrible.

What to Do When You're Angry

Taken from oowls

You cry.  You cry a lot.  You cry so much, you could probably use your tears to brew some tea with if you heated it up, but that tea would be super salty, so you wouldn't.

You look like an idiot in the library.  A few moments before you get really angry, you get really happy because of completing number 25 and 26 consecutively from the 161 Things to Do.  And it's the first time you've gotten above a 90 on a test since high school.

You have trouble breathing.  Your chest seems to constrict and you're making noises that you've never heard before because you're hurting that much, but you're not sad, you're angry.  And you're almost never angry.

You cry on your way home after laughing for hours and getting scared and excited by the latest The Vampire Diaries episode that marks the middle of the season.

On your way home, you call your best friend.  Because he's the only boy who's ever really cared about you.  And he's not even a boy anymore; he's a man.  He has a job.   He doesn't wake up in the afternoon on weekends and goes parties.  He does real people things.  And then all the reasons why you're best friends, even though you call each other "Butt Face," become clear.

You stand in the middle of your room and scream, having no way of relieving those awful feelings.  I mean, you're just so frustrated.  The kind of pain you feel is super internalized and you'd love to do something really dramatic like tear your room apart to go along with the yelling.  But you're worried it'll upset the spirits that most likely haunt it.

You go to a gathering with your friends. No one you know is there but it's nice because you're with your friends and being with friends is always nice.  They want to hug you, seeing that you're so angry and seeing how quickly things unraveled.  But you're too angry for hugs.  Actually, physically attention will probably make you even more upset.  And you don't know why, but your skin is just crawling that much.

You sit in front of your computer pounding out a blog entry about being angry.  While listening to Kimya Dawson and belting out every single word to every song of hers you like.  Which seems to include all of them because when she sings her lyrics, you feel like you have a new friend.  Someone who will spend time with you and strangely seems to know how to articulate how you feel when you're feeling it.

You be productive.  You're not going to let your anger over your personal life being half in shambles ruin all the other aspects that you are rocking at right now.  You're going to copy edit that article for that newspaper you tried working for to the best of your copy editing ability and silently wish it could be your job forever.  You're going to, for the first time since high school, ace your math test because you studied so hard and so well for it.  You'll show those current engineers that you're not leaving engineering because you're too dumb for it; you're leaving because there are other things you would rather be doing, trying not to sound pretentious.

The day you confront the reason why you're angry, you're going to dress up like a princess.  But not an old-fashioned princess.  A modern one who wears a ton of jewelry and make up that makes her look radiant and powerful.  You're not going to break.

My First Time Using an iMac

Taken from iXBT Labs

I never really liked Macs.  Mostly for superficial reasons of I simply prefer PCs over them.  But now, after having to use one out of necessity, meaning that the library mysteriously had no available laptops and no available desk computers, I sat at an iMac just to have a computing device.  And I can't say I like it.  The one hear is just a screen, I mean, a hard drive in a SCREEN?  It makes me so confused.  So if you break your screen, you basically lose the computer?  That's unfortunate.  That's really really unfortunate.  And I cannot seem to master this "no right clicking" thing.  Yes, I understand that you can use a setting, but the library computers do not allow for modification.  See also, why I can't write my nanowrimo novel right now.  In addition, I think it's a little too flashy; I prefer minimalism when it comes to my work space, but I guess that works for people who want to make creative things on a computer.  But now that I am using one, I can with more evidence say that I do not enjoy it.  But I can understand why, seemingly, most people at my college and in general prefer them.

Mental Health Day = Want

Taken from deciso

I wish I could safely afford to just stay in, put my mattress on my floor, surrounded by books, and change into my normal study gear: sweatpants and a sports bra and a hat.  But, alas, my schedule does not allow for that.  Most of my classes have lecture-only material that you need to go to the library and rent out just to catch up.  And that won't fix the fact that I missed out for a percent or two of lecture participation because I could not click in with my iClicker.  And all the information I am missing out on.  But my head hurts too much, but I really cannot afford to miss anything.  I wish I could.  But I guess I can do that Saturday, because I am actually sick and tired and need to be well for my prelims.

The Makings of a Bad Day

Taken from myheartishoney

Well, you started sleeping when you should have already started a R.E.M. and had another fucked up dream about running away from finely dressed hipsters trying to beat you up for no reason.  But it's not your fault you had too much fun Saturday night and matched your boyfriend's sleep cycle on Sunday.  But so you jump out of bed at 6:30 to pick courses but first the perfect breakfast needed to be made.  So as you try to delicately balance a mug, a plastic can of granola, a container yogurt, and a bowl, you drop the mug and the bowl and both  shatter on the carpet in front of your room.  So you go back, frustrated and sad, and make yourself that breakfast.  But the blueberries and strawberries don't taste quite as magically as you wished they would, but screw it, you have classes to enroll for.  And that process, as usual, takes about an hour of refreshing the page, relogging in, losing spots in classes, and not having enough time afterwards to sleep in a little.  So you're tired and trying to stay away from coffee to keep awake.  And then you also realize how much work you need to get done because you're losing your weekend to your boyfriend.  And then you realize he might not be coming in the middle of the math problem set due tomorrow.  And that's when it all settles in.

What to Do When Waiting For Emails

Taken from poeticheartache 

So you're in the library not for the reason of studying but because you are too lazy to carry around a laptop, so you borrow a library laptop which seem to be of higher efficiency and quality than yours at home.  And being that you need said laptop, you need it to confirm meetings with professors because it somehow slipped your silly little mind that you have grade report.  But luckily, you remembered with enough time to get that form signed.  And handed in.  And for life to be good.  So what do you in between emails?

Check social networking.

Look for that one missing article that you need to complete the quad of articles required for your nutritional science term paper, which, by the way, you need an amazing grade on.

You recalculate your grades, just to make sure what appears on that form looks good and that you are on the right track for getting out of the college that's been giving you so much misery this past year.

You read interestingly written articles on Thought Catalog.

You wonder if you should get that cookie.

And if the person does not respond quickly, you go to your class and stalk the teacher that you need a grade from.

My Biggest Insecurity

Taken from tiamo-bella

I generally come off as a pretty secure girl.  I usually don't complain about my body, nor am I usually jealous of other girls.  But there's one thing that makes me cringe and hide.  I wish I had smooth skin on my legs.  And no, I'm not talking dimple, cellulite-free legs that grace the legs of models and celebrities.  I could care less about having those.  I want rash and hive-free legs.  Legs that aren't cut-up looking and red.  I want the pale, beautiful legs I have.  They're the right shape, but not to right texture and color.  And it makes me so sad.  Because it's kind of repulsive.  Or at least I see it as such.  Unless that diseased look is in right now.  Which I doubt.

Ten Reasons Why He's My Favorite (N.a.P.)

Taken from sunshinerosepetal

There comes a time in every relationship when you're mad a your other or they're mad at you or something is just going horrifically wrong and you find yourself in the fetal position contemplating every way you could fix it.  That was me last weekend.  And this weekend, everything seems to be working.  He calls me.  We skyped earlier today even.  I saw his face and got really giddy and excited.  But I can't just be giddy and excited when I see him.  I need to be excited most of the time.  Until he actually does something to hurt me.  So since I'm bored and romantic-y, here are ten reasons why Tim is still my favorite.

1. We can watch the same bizarre television shows together.  He likes South Park, I love it.  Almost every show he shows me, I enjoy.  Right now, I'm checking out Arrested Development because it's one of his favorites.  And we have similar humor.  I mean, sure, it's hard to get a guy to like My Little Pony or The Vampire Diaries, but he's slowly starting to accept that it makes me cheerful and it's going to be a topic in conversation.

2. He's soft-spoken.  He's one of those guys that you never would have guessed had an awesome personality if you didn't make the first steps and started talking to him.  That's kind of the story of me and him.  And I'm so glad I kind of creepily clung to him after that one lunch with friends from class.  But he's really shy and it's pretty endearing.  And, this will sound awful, makes me feel comfortable that me and him share this secret of his personality and that I won't have to compete for attention--either from him or other people.

3. We listen to the same music.  Like, exactly the same music.  I show him an indie band, he shows me techno and our musical tastes are both enriched by the exchange.  We go to concerts together, have a great time, and then sit on stoops and talk about how good it was.  We've done this three times so far.  And each concert gets better.

4. He's there for me when I need him.  Sure, last weekend and the days leading up that was an issue, but there are countless times when something at a party or hang out went totally wrong and for some reason or other, I'm scared or in tears and he's there.  He's on the phone, taking a break from his party until I feel better.

5. The way he makes me laugh.  Usually when he writes something funny, it's gut-wrenching laughter.  The most recent I can think of is everytime I say something like "I miss your face."  And he responds with "me too."  And I'm like "damn, boy."  And he says "Yep, I miss my face all the time."  And then we laugh and endorphines are released and life is good.  He's a pretty funny dude, but see point number 2.

6.  He enjoys my baking.  I haven't baked a nonvegan pastry in forever.  And now that I have to eat mostly gluten-free, the Babycakes pastry book has been overly convenient.  And most people like their pastries to be milk-full and egg-full.  But he enjoys mine.  And there's no more awesome feeling in regards to cooking when the person you're dating, who you spend time baking and planning meals for, enjoys eating them.

7. The way we snuggle.  Not going to lie, the first time I went to sleepover at his room in Poland, I was worried snuggling might be uncomfortable.  He's six feet tall and is a bean pole.  But he is just so much taller and longer than I that he basically forms a crescent around my small frame.  And he just holds me so close.  Like, I can feel his chin on my shoulder.  The best feeling: when he kisses my shoulder before falling asleep and upon waking.  It's just so comforting and I can't wait to enjoy it in two weeks.

8.  He's a computer science major, I suck at computer science, and we get along perfectly.  People have asked us what we talk about.  But there are things pertaining to majors, such as future plans, that transcend dislike and disinterest.  And honestly, I find it completely adorable when he gushes over his computer architecture class.

9. He lets us do our own thing.  He likes driving around with his friends, I like watching hulu with mine.  He goes to parties, I stay in and watch shows and blog.  We totally respect each other's time spending.  As long as some contact is maintained.  Like, when we party, we call each other to feel like we're enjoying the experience together.  And we giggle at the silly things that are happening and it isn't too obnoxious.  Except for when we get to the slurry part.  Then it gets completely obnoxious.  And now to round out the list...

10. He is really attractive.  What can I say?  Like most normal girlfriends,  I am attracted to my boyfriend.  He's tall, lean, handsome, has gorgeous eyes, and a great personality.  What's not to like?

Weirdest Feeling of Nostalgia

Taken from sunshinerosepetal

Today, for the first time ever, I ate at a dining hall all by myself.  As in, I went in by myself and sat by myself.  I did not meet any of my friends there.  And it was weird.  Mostly because I felt totally out of place as a sophomore who does not live on North campus going to a freshman dining hall.  I did not even eat at that dining hall all too often.  But the meal I had was just such a staple that I couldn't help be brought back to the few times I ate there.  But I got most nostalgia from the freshman.  Saving between six and twelve seats at a table for them and all their friends.  Screaming at each other.  Talking about all the gossip in their social circles.  I know those things aren't unique to freshman, but they are definitely definitive of freshman.  And to complete my freshman-year dining experience, I got food poisoning.  Which makes my food poisoning count at Cornell, four.

Glamourized

Taken from deciso 

Thought Catalog makes everything sound so profound and pretty.  Maybe it's the power in the words, or the actual content, but everything just sounds so good.  And emotional things, even something mild like the ritual of getting ready for a Friday night can sound profound and beautiful.  I wish I could write like that.

I want to make the way I'm feeling like something brokenly beautiful.  Like there's something glamorous about sitting in on a Saturday night, reading your psychology like it's The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo and remembering as many details of both books.  My phone's off so even if there were more exciting things happening tonight, I'm wholly unaware.  I'll just pretend I'm content watching South Park and reading psych.  Because it's the only emotionally-neutral thing I'm doing tonight.  Besides, you know, trying to not think about the fact that my boyfriend hasn't reached out to me in a day.  Or has been acting like much of a boyfriend in general.  I need to disappear so he can remember me.  But maybe he won't.  I don't think he will.  And that's what I have to ignore.  And the writers of Thought Catalog would make this sound a whole lot more fucking beautiful.

Like a Dumbass

Taken from myheartishoney:

Am I the only one who does not have a lot due, but has a lot to do?  I'm laying in bed sick, under my covers, with my Yelling Bird in my arms, wishing for the self-imposed workload to go away and my sickness to go away so I can go back to being productive, fun and awesome.  I have tutoring and a meeting tomorrow, and feeling slightly unprepared for both.  I mean, can you get tutoring for just derping on tests?  Knowing answers, writing wrong ones, showing a total disconnect between knowledge and testing.  Second half of the semester is a new half of the semester, right?

This October

Taken from myheartishoney

I want you in my arms for more than a day.  Can you be there for two days?  Can I be in your arms for some of the days?  We can share a bed together and be in each other's arms.  And then we can get all bundled up and share some coffee from Stella's while holding hands, finding a bench or something to sit on.  I just want to see my favorite.  Why do I have to wait so long?  I mean, distance makes the heart grow fonder, but it also makes the heart get a slight case of the aches.  Or maybe that's just it pounding from the current stress.  But I just want to see you a lot.  Maybe even go to a Halloweekend party together.  In something really cute and matchy...but I don't think you want to.  Have matching costumes, I mean.  I should you want to see me.

Stress and Pressure

Taken from fleetingfoxes

I don't know what's gotten into me these days, but the excitement, rigor, enthusiasm, and determination I had to kick this semester in the ass has just died on me.  Like, I genuinely feel like it's not going to happen.  My transfer isn't going to happen.  That it's just going to be a repeat of when I really wanted to get into Brown, I did everything right, and yet somehow it didn't happen.  But I really don't want that to happen with transferring out of engineering.  I don't know.  Maybe my grades will rescue themselves.

Testing Monster

Taken from myheartishoney

All this studying is turning me into a butt.  Or, as most people would say, an ass.  I sit at home all day.  Studying. I come out when I need to.  Like for food, or class, or some meeting that could help me in the class.

And while I'm studying, everyone is being fun and cool.  They're going to parties.  They're wasting time watching a film together.  And I'm by myself studying because it seems like everything that is life is detrimental to my success.  Or lack there of.  And then I start reverting to bad mental habits that kept me locked up on weekends throughout most of high school.  And it seems like no one understands or wants to join to me or anything having to do with interacting with me.  And if these people are different, why do they all treat me the same?

When I See You

Taken from sufficio

I think I might actually slap you or something.  I don't know.  I just want to build something that can you get you here like now.  Or get me there like now.  Because I need a break from being alone all the time.  Because everyone smokes pot and no one actually cares about how isolated it makes me feel.  And I hate your card company crap right now.  You could be here right now.  Reminding me that there are people who enjoy both weed and spending time with me.  And instead of me sitting here feeling dumb as shit for getting so excited just for disappointment that we won't spend a whole weekend together, we'd be snuggling right now.  But that's not the case.  Another Friday of me just wishing there was something better to do.  Except, you know, being thoroughly disappointed.  But what's another 20 hours?  Disapproval.  Towards everything.

College Living

Taken from suckmyclock

It involves lots of tea.  Lots of waiting.  Lots of paper getting torn to shreds by erasers and frustration.  Lots of pencils being used up.  Lots of pens lacking ink.  Lots of coffee and coffee drinks.  Lots of episodes of television being watched with friends while eating cookies.  Lots of reading; page after page, line after line, of reading.  Lots of walking up and down hills.  Lots of walking just in general.  Lots of note taking and lots of lists just make up the lives of an average sophomore.

A Fourth Grader

Taken from gahdengremlins

You went to school like it was any other day.  Well, any other gym day, so instead of wearing your normal school uniform, you wore your baggy and comfortable gym clothes.  And school had just started.  So we barely got through our first class when they ushered the whole school downstairs.  We just heard something super bad happened downtown and a lot of kids were being picked up as soon as possible by their parents.  They lived close by to the event.  And slowly one by one, they left the building in a hurry.  My dad picked me up relatively early because he was worried that we wouldn't be able to leave.

I remember him telling me that one of the towers fell.  And in my little nine-year-old head, it made zero sense. How can a building just fall?  They're supposed to not do that.  But then walking home up 7th avenue, there the second one stood.  With a backdrop of the clear blue sky, it was just there.  Smoking.  There were flames.  My dad and I stood with onlookers.  Some people ran downtown.  As we're about to walk back, I remember hearing my dad whisper "holy shit."  It was the first time I heard him swear.  And I turned around with him.  And it came down.  It just stacked on top of itself and I thought things usually fell over; not straight down.  These were such petty thoughts, but nothing made sense.  People were screaming and it was just completely unreal.

I remember coming home and when my dad put the key in our door, I asked him, "Dad, did that seriously just happen?"  And he nodded.  I went home and turned on the television.  Everything about it was horrifying.  Scarier than the Ghost Ship movie I had seen with my friends at a sleepover a few weeks ago.  The events of the day came so much clearer but it was still really bizarre.  The most horrifying thing for me, besides, you know, the whole situation, was the video footage of people falling off the side of the building.  I'm still horrified of heights and it took me back to literally a few days prior when my dad and I went to the top as part of a touristy loop of NYC we did.  We made it to the top.  And I looked down and imagining someone dropping down from there was just mind-numbing.  I shut off the telly and watched something cheerful, like Dora the Explorer.  And I was 9.  The worst was thinking about how that could have happened.  And it still is.

Rewatching the footage with half a morbid fascination, it remains as terrifying.  Hearing the stories of people being there in the towers, I can't imagine what I would do.  And looking back, I became terrified of everything, just because I saw it.  And it's silly.  I know it's not as significant as losing someone or being there or helping people and not being sure if you'd make it out alive, but that day was just something that you could not forget if you tried.

Support Beams

Taken from analyzing

I'm sorry I call you at ridiculous hours of night.  Just because it's a little too dark for comfort.  And I'm a little too out of it to be alone, under a brilliant guise of "it's fine, guys, I'll be just fine."  But you're there for me.  You're starting to be able to tell when I'm not okay.  I love the way you keep me level.  The way you're getting better at comforting.  The way you listen and give advice when advice is almost the last thing I want at the moment.  Just the way you are.  Thanks for being there.

A Little Note on My Classes This Semester

Taken from brisaemmim

So I think I've got it figured out.  The most time-consuming class is a tie between physiology and intro to psych.  The least time consuming in terms of getting homework done will be physics, math, and nutrition.  The classes I will find easiest are physics, nutrition, and psych.  The hardest, without a doubt, will be math.  Math will also be the most time consuming in terms of understanding (I already have an office hours schedule going...I am very cool).  I do two extracurriculars: Polish club and soccer.  It'll keep my life interesting and school-free enough that I feel like a human being and not just some book-bound, skillful reading android who occasionally solves complex math equations.  Or draws graphs.

Books, Books, Books

Taken from brisaemmim

I don't think after college I'll be picking one up for a while.  Or I'll get so sick of reading textbooks, taking notes on everything, scrutinizing the details, and cramming it into my head....well, I'm not cramming yet.  More like trying to fill a suitcase for a short trip with all the clothes I could ever possibly need.  I think when I get the time to read a non-textbook will be the best day of my life so far.