undapantz!

I am such a dork. I remembered to pack my laptop and my schoolbooks. I remembered to slip all my vitamins and my bottle of stevia in my bag. Didn’t leave home without my snacky foods. Books, check. Mp3 player, check. Cell phone charger (I always forget that!) Check!! Toothbrush, toothpaste, sunscreen, everything is there! Except for…

Uh. What am I missing.

Oh.

Underwear.



Underwear!!! Of all the things I could’ve forgotten, I forgot to pack my underwear?!? My goodness. And the funny thing is that as I was packing I was texting back and forth with my buddy who was also getting ready for a road trip…and I jokingly said to him, “Don’t forget to pack your undies!”

And I end up leaving them behind. Go me.

So yeah. Greetings from Connecticut! It’s miserable here. Now that my grandmother is gone the place is drenched in sadness. Clinging onto the curtains, seeping from the walls, hanging on to anything and everything you touch or just merely look at. The love and joy that radiated from my Grammy is no longer here. The house feels like….an empty house. No longer like a home, even though my grandfather still lives here. He’s depressed, of course. He lost the love of his life. I think he needs a change of scenery which is why I’m going to kidnap him! MUA-haha!

But man, not even the sunlight flooding in through the windows can beat the gloom.

In 3 weeks my dad and I will be coming back for Easter and we're going to arrange everything and pack everything so that my grampy can live with meee!! My grandfather is awesome. He's so laid back and positive about everything. Has a great sense of humor. He's 91 years old, almost 92 and he looks like he's in his 70s. My dad is 66 and he looks like he's 45. I want THOSE genes! Whatever they have that makes them age reeeaaallly slow....I want it. Up until last year I got carded for alcohol.

Ooh and people would ask me, "So, what high school do you go to?"

I'd tell them, "I'm in my twenties" and they wouldn't believe me. I liked that! I liked being 24 and being mistaken for a seventeen-year-old. But now...at 25....I don't get that anymore. Do I look my age? Or maybe I at least look 21 now. Hmm. Maybe people are just bad at guessing my age and I've looked my age all along.

My mom is the same way. She looks absolutely amazing at 52. Very youthful looking, very beautiful. Which kind of baffles all of us because she's been smoking for over 30 years. *Shrugs*

skool and...stuff. ooh, road trip!

soooooo school has kinda been kicking my butt these past 2 weeks. Midterms and all.
i haven't much time to say anything right now.

my dad and i are going to Connecticut this weekend (road trip! woo!), so i'll be sure to tell you all about that when i get back.

until then, i leave you with this tiny little Röyksopp music video. hope you like! if anything, the flashing lights and shiny things should keep you entertained. i know it kept me mesmerized :) i like shiny things. oooh. so pretty.


ta-ta.

♪♫♪ lalalaaaa snow ♪♫♪

Ah, snow days. Delightful, serene snow days.

Tropical climates are fun and all for a week’s vacation, but it’s a snowy landscape amidst the brilliant blue sky that leaves me shivering with rapture.

...and with cold….

But I like the cold!

Summertime is magical. Fireflies in the trees, the aroma of honeysuckle in the air, and the nocturnal symphony playing from sunset to sunrise together make summer nights...so....beautiful.

I love sitting outside in the dark, just listening to the crickets play strings and the frogs and owls sing their hearts out. Taking in deep breaths of the cool humid air, practically tasting the aroma of flowers on my tongue. Watching cats slink by. They think they're ninjas and that no one can see them! If only nights lasted longer in the summer.... I'm not exactly a sun-worshiper.

I love my winters. (The snowier the better!) There's something so poetic and enchanting about wearing long wool coats and scarves, sitting by the fire, sitting in a coffee shop sipping a chai latte as you watch the snow fall outside...

Parties are more festive (not necessarily holiday-related). Snuggling into a fleece blanket (even better if there's someone else under that blanket with you), admiring glassy icicles, seeing how the snow sparkles under the light, enjoying the absolute silence following a blizzard....*sigh*

Beautiful.

i had to.

me: ☺

vic: that smiley face bothers me to no end tonight

vic: :P

me: how come?

vic: my cryptography program randomly decided to throw it into things for no reason

me: sooooo its, in a sense, haunting you?

vic: yup

me: ☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺
☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺
☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺
☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺
☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺☺

vic: you're a horrible person

me: ☺


I just had to. You understand...

drug dealer's office for candy!

Months ago a friend of mine asked if I would accompany them to their psychiatrist's office. She couldn't miss this appointment--she had canceled the last four. We had plans for later that afternoon and my morning didn't involve anything terribly interesting so I agreed to go along.

"I just don't feel like going by myself," she explained. So I grabbed "The Historian" (which i still haven't finished reading...arg!) and my ingenious portable music device. That should keep me entertained. Who knows how long she was going to be in there.

We got to the doctor's office, she signs in and we take a seat. Waited for about 20 minutes, engaging in mindless chatter. I was completely unaware of the other people in the waiting room until my friend got up and went through the door.

Headphones already in place, I hit play on my Mp3 player, pulled my book out and opened it up to where I left off...but I was barely able to read a paragraph. I was suddenly aware of the presence of others. I could feel eyes all over me. Slowly, I lifted my eyes and glanced around the room. On the opposite end from where I was at, there were two men. One was looking back with a curious expression on his face, the other with a slight smirk. The one to the left was probably in his mid-20s, with blond hair and dark eyes. The other had darker features and was well into his 40s. To my left was a pimply-faced teenager, looking so sweet, awkward and insecure it almost made me feel embarrassed. He kept glancing over nervously, jerking his head every time I shifted in my seat.

I looked back down to my book, but didn't read. Everyone was looking at me as if they were waiting for me to say something. I smiled inwardly as I realized what was going on.

They were all sizing me up.

Probably wondering, "Why is she here?" Asking themselves questions along the lines of "is she crazy?" and "what kinda pills does she like to pop?"

Or maybe they were just wondering what my book was about.

Maybe my hair was looking particularly Helena Bonham Carter.

The middle-aged man started talking to the blond-haired guy. He was going on about how he had been seeing this 'shrink' for a few months. His daughter had her own doctor somewhere else. She takes antidepressants and adderall, and she steals whatever medication she can get her hands on that are prescribed to him. He didn't mention what it is that he takes. Hmm. I stifled a laugh and looked up. I almost asked the guy if his daughter went to River Hill. But I stayed quiet. (Half the kids I went to high school with were medicated one way or another.) Blonde-guy kept glancing over at me every 20 seconds. He was still wondering about me. Maybe expecting me to open up to them, just as they had to each other? I can't remember blonde-guy's story. Something about panic attacks.

Odd. The way they were talking...it almost seemed as if they were....bragging? Their tone of voice held something more than just casual conversation.

"I've been on 20mg. of Cymbalta for the longest time."

"Oh, yeah? Well I'm on 60mg. of Cymbalta and I've been taking Zyprexa, too."

"Oh. Well, my daughter's on all of these medications...." blah blah blah...

I listened, very much amused by the fact that they were so open about their personal lives. (I'm pretty open about things when it comes to writing them down, but 90% of what I write you probably can't get me to say out loud, especially if I'm out in public. Unless I'm drunk. Or in a particularly chatty mood. Neither of which happens often..!) :) I was mildly amused yet at the same time felt unsettled by the fact that the older guy just chuckled as he was talking about his drug-abusing daughter in a "kids do the darndest things" kind of manner.

All this took place in a 10-minute time frame. After the "I'm more medicated than you" dance-off, the two men started leafing through magazines.

I caught zit boy looking my way again and I smiled at him. Oops. I scared him. His face turned red and he looked like he was about to pee his pants.

I checked the clock. Sighed. Actually started reading the page I had been staring at. Made it through a page or two when suddenly my friend appeared through the door . I looked up in surprise. "You ready?" she asked, walking over to the front desk to schedule her next appointment.

I got up, checking the clock again. 15 minutes...? That's it?

We walk out of the office and into the hallway and I asked, "What could you possibly have had time to talk about in just fifteen minutes?"

With a grin she held up 5 pieces of paper, fanning them out. Prescriptions. I grabbed them out of her hand and checked to see what kind of candy she got. Hmm. Quite the combination. Adderall, sleeping pills (that can't be a good mix) anti-anxiety meds...and of course...antidepressants.

I was shocked. "You guys didn't talk about anything?"

She shrugged. "Nothing really to talk about."

I thought for a moment. "But the first few times you went to see the doc you probably had longer sessions, right?"

"Uh. No."

I stopped walking. "You mean all this time you've just been going in there for 15 minutes...twice a month....to pick up prescriptions?!"

With a laugh she said, "Yep."

"I thought you said you were seeing a psychiatrist?!"

"I am."

"No...that wasn't a psychiatrist you just saw. THAT was a drug dealer!"

She laughed even harder. "Yes. I know."

depersonalization

i'm not depressed.

i just feel really detached from everything.

normally the right use of pathos will get me, usually by making my heart flutter.
if a certain song came on the radio that made me feel particularly nostalgic, often times i'd have to fight back tears. at the same time, movies that were notorious for being a tear-jerker usually didn't phase me. there were some things that hit me hard, and others that did nothing for me.
my emotions, on a normal basis, were pretty stable. i didn't cry over everything, but i wasn't completely cold-hearted either.

then came my weird emo phase. (though this was before "emo" really existed. i didn't get an asymmetrical haircut and wear skinny jeans. i just mean everything, and i mean everything affected me emotionally) i was so freakin' sensitive. to everything! watching The Little Mermaid made me sob once, despite the fact that i had already watched the movie about 50 times before. commercials on TV for diapers would make me teary-eyed because seeing a happy, laughing baby - for whatever reason - made me sad. i couldn't listen to the radio because any song that came up that reminded me of high school resulted in sobbing. if i laughed too hard at something funny, i cried.

that lasted for a long time.

then i went back to normal. figured it was just hormones or something.


and now....


i'm just going through the motions.

nothing feels real. i feel like i'm just going through this long, slow dream.
i'm not sad. if anything, i'm actually feeling quite indifferent. though i don't seem to care about much i am, at least, rational enough to realize that this isn't normal.

or is it? maybe it is normal. maybe it'll only last for a little while.

(see how i always second-guess myself?)

i'm not reacting to things properly. my father-in-law was taken to the hospital the other day. he was at the doctor's office for a routine check-up, and the doctor didn't like what she saw on his EKG so she called for an ambulance and had him sent off to the hospital.
when my mother-in-law called to tell me, i said oh so casually, "ok, i'm heading over right now." gently put the phone down, drove over to pick her up and listened to her freak out all the way to the hospital. i managed to calm her down a little bit, pointing out the fact that if he hadn't had a heart attack. and not to mention that since he was able to pick up his cell phone to call and casually tell her, "i'm going to the hospital. i feel fine, so don't worry. it's just a precaution." that he's alright.
i didn't get that sense of dread i usually feel upon arriving at a hospital. not that i've ever had a bad experience at one, but i don't particularly like the way they smell. and i feel bad for all the sick people. and i'm a teeny bit of a germophobe, convinced that i'll contract something just by walking around. but...none of those usual feelings hit me this time. i walked into that hospital and into his room like i was at home.

i adore my father-in-law. i know that under normal circumstances i'd feel something about all this. concern, at the very least. yet i still felt...well....nothing. i joked around a little bit to release some of the tension. he did look kind of worried. apparantly his father had heart problems. scary.
i wasn't worried. it's not like i didn't care. i did care. i do care. but my heart didn't give that lurch i usually feel at the mere thought of a loved one getting sick or hurt.

so at first i though, "hey...maybe i'm just a lot more stable now with the emotions! i'm cool as a cucumber! that must be it." even "denial" had crossed my mind.

but i dont think i was merely remaining calm. even if you're able to maintain composure, either the emotions are buzzing around within your mind or they'll resurface later if you're able to block them out completely for as long as necessary. i'm feeling....well....nothing.

things that normally annoy the hell out of me don't phase me.
i used to take everything so personally. if a stranger was mean to me i'd dwell on it for hours, wondering why they had to be so rude and what i had done to deserve it in that i'm so polite to everyone.
now, i barely even notice if anyone in public addresses me, let alone insults me. (this one day i had gotten really bent out of shape because the Starbucks barista at my school had greeted everyone ahead of me with a "good morning!" and a smile, and when i came up to the counter i smiled, said "morning" just to be greeted by a half-hearted, "hi". this had severely hurt my feelings to the point that i never bought coffee at school after that. i'd go down the street instead. ridiculous!)
i used to cringe every time my parents started bickering. which is always. no matter where we are. now, i barely even hear them.

one could argue that i'm just developing a shield. does having thick skin seriously mean you don't care about a single thing?

i don't think so.


i catch myself zoning out while people are talking to me. doesn't matter who it is or how important the conversation is. i have to struggle to pay close attention, otherwise i just drift off into the world in my head. (it's okay, they know me there!)


all this change in personality and emotion (or lack thereof) started about 2 years ago.
i'm not particularly bothered by any of this. but i am rational enough to recognize the fact that this isn't "normal".



maybe it's a side-effect of the insomnia. it is, in fact, 4a.m. and i haven't gotten a good-night's sleep for days and days. hmm.

so uncertain...

i'm 25 years old. should i be able to tell you who i am? should i have a concrete sense of self?


my list of likes and dislikes, my accomplishments, my character flaws, my beliefs, my quirks...they're all there, very real. i know the fact that i love psychological thrillers, pho, post-hardcore punk, frogs, bonfires and ghost stories are there in that "me" box. but...i don't know. all of these things that make me who i am...seem to just be there without making me who i am.

that makes no sense.

i seem to be having an identity disturbance. not only do people not get me, but i don't even know myself. while people around me are very present and solid, i feel like i'm just halfway here. in the scene, but translucent. not quite a whole person. people can see me but they don't know what to make of what they see.

something seems to be missing. is it passion? have i not "found myself"?

can you be perfectly content with yourself and your life even if you're not entirely sure who you are and what exactly you're doing?
i'm sure a good number of people have no idea what they're doing here. the lucky ones have found their dream jobs or are out on a mission. but a lot of us haven't a clue.

but there are many people i look at and i can tell they know exactly who they are. not only do they know who they are, but they present it as well. in subtle ways.

i, apparantly, do not present myself accurately. i'm not sure what to make of that. i have no idea what people see when they look at me.

last year, a friend of mine and i were bored with the music on our Mp3 players. so we traded to see what the other one liked to listen to. after about an hour my friend approached me...in awe...saying that she would've never guessed that i liked such "hardcore" music like Nine Inch Nails or My Chemical Romance.

"You just don't look like the kind of person that listens to that kind of music," she had said.

er...what kind of music do i look like i listen to? Kenny G?

i'd gotten comments like this quite often. am i misrepresenting myself or are people just really, really bad at reading me?

i'm not sure. a little bit of both, perhaps?

ok, enough rhetorical questions for today.