Alone With My Thoughts

I wrote a really overly emotional hipster-esque blog post but I refuse to post it due to it's stupidly dumb contents. Instead I feel like I should express myself via song...

All aboard! Ha ha ha ha ha ha haaaa!

Ay, Ay, Ay, Ay, Ay, Ay, Ay

Crazy, but that's how it goes
Millions of people living as foes
Maybe it's not too late
To learn how to love
And forget how to hate

Mental wounds not healing
Life's a bitter shame
I'm going off the rails on a crazy train
I'm going off the rails on a crazy train

Let's Go!

I've listened to preachers
I've listened to fools
I've watched all the dropouts
Who make their own rules
One person conditioned to rule and control
The media sells it and you live the role

Mental wounds still screaming
Driving me insane
I'm going off the rails on a crazy train
I'm going off the rails on a crazy train

I know that things are going wrong for me
You gotta listen to my words
Yeah

Heirs of a cold war
That's what we've become
Inheriting troubles I'm mentally numb
Crazy, I just cannot bear
I'm living with something' that just isn't fair

Mental wounds not healing
Who and what's to blame
I'm going off the rails on a crazy train
I'm going off the rails on a crazy train


Also, in dumb hipster post I mentioned my cute feet. So, even though I don't approve of my original post, I want to still include that. But as a picture is worth 1000 words I decided to just add a picture. Don't lie. They are fucking ADORABLE.

Unpacking Christmas

For me Christmas is a two part engagement, Dads side and Moms side. It's always been this way. Now I know what this sounds like, my parents must be divorced. Incorrect. My parents are happily married. But for some reason the holidays have become segregated-- separate but equal. It's not like, weird or scarring for me because, well that's just kind of how I'm used to operating. In fact I like compartmentalizing the two sides of my family. The crazies and... the crazies.

I think my parent's families are on two ends of the crazy spectrum. So far apart from each other that after a while they start to resemble eachother in an odd way. If that make sense.

My dads family gets Christmas Eve and my moms gets Christmas Day. And for the most part they hold equal significance. I think I have more memories from Christmas eve, but then again I think I have more memories of my dads side of the family. They represent a huge portion of what I think of as family. And it's not just limited to relatives. I grew up hanging with people that were "aunts and uncles" and "who really knows". My moms side is more focused on the immediate family. Grandma and aunt and uncle and two cousins. Sometimes other aunt and uncle. But the family tree on my dads side is not nearly as simple. Second cousins, third cousins, aunts uncles, great aunts, and extraneous people who have found a way into our family circle. Put simply, it's just a larger group of people.

But I think its more then just the size of the group that makes a difference. My dads side has it's traditions but they are not nearly as orthodox as my moms side. I think in a lot of ways I relate more to my dads side because of that sense of unorthodox-ness.

But on both sides we have a cast of characters. We have the forever wise grandfather who likes to impart wisdoms upon anyone who will sit still long enough. We have the cousin who has just reached that beautifully attitudinal stage that accompanies middle school. We have the cool aunt who arrives in a whirlwind after traveling across the globe. We have the one who you think is always a little disappointed that you don't party as much as he did. We even have the pretentious artist type who spouts out monologues that you suspect may just be a load of crap. And the list goes on. And I love every one of them, as cliche and crazy as they may be.

And then there's me. Stuck in the middle, and with my own version of crazy spilling out. And I still haven't reconciled the two sides of the family within myself. I think only time will tell what the new age of my family traditions for Christmas will entail. One thing is for certain, it will be interesting.

Christmas Eve

Dear Santa Claus,

Let me preface this letter by saying how exceedingly good I have been in the last 365 days. I finished applying to college, aced my classes, got into a great school, graduated high school, travelled through France and Italy, moved to Seattle, and was very successful in my first quarter of college. And those are just the big events. Everyday events of goodness where also prevalent this year. Which is why this Christmas I deserve presents and not coal.

These are some suggestions:

Perfume
A digital camera
A brown sweater
A navy scarf
And a pedicure

That's all I can think of off the top of my head. I think you might have some good ideas too. The older I get, the younger I feel around to holidays. Baking and eating candies and cookies, and getting presents and Giving presents. It brings about a sense of childhood youth that I find so endearing about the Christmas season.

This is the season of... Giving? Family? Love? Jesus? I don't know if I can really quite say. I'm not exceedingly religious so the whole Jesus, manger, wisemen thing doesn't really do it for me; although if it does for you-- props to you, your faith is commendable in this modern day cynicism. But that's a whole other story. It's a time for people to be brought together. Whether by giving or family or love. People come together on this day of wonderment.

So I commend you Santa Claus, you manange to be a man to be admired. And I'm not just kissing ass to get presents. Year after year you remain strong. Maybe you should consider running for political office. You'd have my vote.

Merry Christmas!

My Platonic Love Letter

My Dearest Kellbow,

I broke our pinky promise. I saw My Ex. And I hate that I hurt you in the process. You and Your Ex are very similar to me and My Ex, and we had made a pact to protect ourselves and each other. I am worried that you were right about not opening the door. But I am worried that if I don't do something I'll be stuck in this emotional limbo forever. 

I wish I could tell you seeing him again was either absolutely amazing and healthy or absolutely awful and miserable. But it seems that I am still caught in this grey area. 

There are several strong emotions swirling around my heart and my head and I can't seem to reconcile them. They range from wishing he and I never met, to he and I still being together, to me being totally over him, to me being just friends, to me sending the mafia to "take care of him". But I can't fit those things together. 

I am so confused. And I can't wrap my head around the situation anymore. Which makes me realize something as I say that. I want the intimacy, I want the support, I want someone who loves me to pull me out of this emotional shit storm. And I thought because My Ex had seen best what I had to go through, he could do that.

He told me he wants to get back together but he's not willing to fight for that. I am still stuck in the same place I was before. I want to be fought for.

So here I am, having been reminded of what I want. I want someone to take care of me. Someone to un-fuck me up. I want someone to fight for me. Just like the Kelly Clarkson song we both love so much. My Ex can't do that for me. And as much as I want him in my life, he will only ever be on the outskirts. Because I can't be consistently reminded of him wanting to be with me, but not bad enough to fight for it. And anyone who won't fight for me isn't worth my time.

And the same for you. You have been hurt over and over, especially by He who shall not be named. And you have wasted your heart on a man who doesn't care enough about you. You need someone, like I do, to pick up the pieces of your broken heart and put them back together again. 

I will fight for you. Die for you. Live and breathe for you. I care for you. 'Cause i will never leave. (notice Kelly Clarkson altered lyrics? ;) ) 

I will be there for you the day that one man comes along that will change your life for the better. And I will be there to see you two fall in love. And I will be there to see you get married. And I will see you grow old together. And we will both be happy again. I promise.

Love,

Keeyore

Commercials Kill Christmas!

Well the title kid of says it all. Come Black Friday every November there are countless Christmas commercials. I have several issues with this. The first is that it is so over done. I wouldn't be surprised if they just played the same exact commercials every year. We know it is the buying (or giving if you want to be cute) season. You don't need to tell us any more then usual to announce then inevitable decline of our bank accounts. And annoying us isn't going to help either of us. Why do the Christmas commercials have to be so damn obnoxious. The one with songs are the WORST. I mean, okay, if you have to play a Christmas-y jingle over the obnoxious commercial, then fine. But when they change the lyrics to Christmas songs I literally want to do one of two things: rip the radio/tv out of whatever source is playing it, whether its a car or a wall or what have you. Or rip my ears out of my head. You are killing Christmas with your blasphemous lyrics. You are not clever, you are not witty, you are annoying. And another thing, where are the Hanukkah commercials? Or the Kwanzaa commercials? Or the solstice commercials? Is it your goal to only annoy Christians? Jewish people can endure mass genocide, black people can endure racism, but Christians are forced to endure your horrid--HORRID-- commercials. I don't know what's worse (JUST KIDDING. I know commercials are not nearly as bad as genocide, it was a joke). Why can't you annoy other religions? I mean I could think of some really awful Hanukkah commercials that would rival some of the Christmas ones.

Okay that's my quick rant, spurred by a really bad radio commercial. It involved cheesy lyrics. It was awful.

Leaving Home and Never Looking Back

I was talking to two friends a couple days ago and they both said similar things. One said she was homesick as in she was "sick of her home" and the other said he had basically left home without looking back. I found this to be interesting because that is not how I feel. I am often homesick in the traditional sense and I always look forward to going home for the holidays (two days until Christmas break!). So although I choose Seattle for it's change of pace, I certainly picked Seattle for it's proximity to my home town and for it's other similar characteristics. I imagined I could make a home here, and I am certainly working on it. But going home is always fun and I think positively in regards to my home.

I think it speaks to the quality of my childhood. My parents, who no doubt are reading this, are probably pleased to hear that I think highly of their parenting styles. In many ways I think I would raise a child like my parents raised me. They were reasonable and forgiving as well as compassionate and nurturing. They wanted to give me the opportunities I wanted and that my intelligence allowed. They trusted me, and I think I earned that faith-- it was something we both worked on. And I trusted them. They always tried to be honest, but they also cared about my well being. This fostered both an endearing innocence and practical realism in me.

So there would be no reason for me to want to stray from that environment. There are times where I wish my childhood wasn't quite as awesome as it was. I think it gave me a bit of a peter pan complex-- I have always feared growing up, and straying from what I know, my childhood innocence. I also wish I did have a little more of that need to escape. I want to be adventurous, but when it comes to leaving what I know and love behind I trip on my way.
I suppose I am between a rock and a hard place.

But here's the thing, even though I have this fear of straying from home, I still do it. I have already taken my first steps as a world traveler, exploring France and Italy with my best friend this summer. Not many homebodies like me do that. And even though it was one of the hardest, most intense things I have ever done, I DID it.

And I didn't just go to school somewhere close to home. I left, and I'm going to one of the most prestigious public universities in the nation. I'm not going to the junior college in my town like my grandma wanted. I left my comfort zone to make a name for myself.

And now I'm looking at study abroad programs for junior year. I'm looking at places like Ireland and England and Italy and Greece! And it looks so exciting. Studying a semester or a year in Dublin?? Hell yeah! And so even though I'm scared shitless of having to go to school in another country, I'm going to do it.

Which is awesome. I've learned you can be scared and still DO the things that worry you. Don't be afraid of fear itself. Don't let fear stop you from doing what you want to do. Because I believe what you want to do with your life is the same as what you need to do with your life.

So maybe you can leave home AND look back. Because who you were affects who you are, and who you are will affect who you will be in the future. So embrace that, don't hide it. Look back, maybe you'll realize what you fine isn't so bad after all.

"Senses" An Experiment in Poetry

Why don't you stay awhile
Spend an afternoon with me
See my red soaked hands
Evidence of a guilt I was never meant to bear

Take the time to sit awhile
And hear my trodden tale of tears
Listen to my cracked voice tell
Of not so forgotten hurts that I still wear

Wait a minute while I remember
See if i can recall the stories
Memories you can almost taste
Of bitter ends and sweet remembrances

Pause a minute in your tracks
Your story begins where I left mine
Mine felt after years of pushing back
Because time heals only some wounds

And all you are left with is your common sense

I Didn't Come to College to Major in M.R.S. But While I'm Here...

There are definitely times where I want to find the one person I will spend the rest of my life with. I used to not really buy into that whole idea that “I date to marry”. That never really ever occurred to me, and once it did I just kind of figured I was far too young to need to worry about that. But a few things have occurred to me that have made me think that maybe it would nice to find Mr. Right.

One obvious thing is that in a year and a half from now I will be the same age my mom was when she met my dad. Now, many people may scoff and say that I am not my mom (although anyone who has met both of us might think that is a considerable possibility). And I agree, for the most part. However, she and my dad are the best example for a successful relationship that I have. I don’t really know how I’ll ever find as perfect a match as my parents did. AND they have a cute story of how they met. So I feel pressured, as uncalled for as that may or may not be. I want what my parents have. The undying passion that their love consists of. Steady, respectful, but goofy and fun. And knowing that this is when my mom met my dad—I can’t help to think I should be searching for that. My mom didn’t know when she was 20, the man she was dating would marry her, that she would raise a child with him, that she would spend more than half her life with him. But it happened to her and I want it to happen to me.

The second is… I don’t really know how to put it, now that I think of it... Well I’ll preface it with this epiphany I had yesterday. My friend is in this really, really steady relationship and she rarely sees the guy. But she is so patient about it because when she does, it’s this great, compatible relationship. And she knows that she might not see him for a month, six months, what have you, but he will always come back to her. She and him, they are in no rush. They know they have the rest of their lives to be together so why add pressure? Why push to see each other constantly? They are in no hurry. And I want that. A lot of the time, when I meet a guy or start dating a guy I want to spend all this time with him. I feel like “I got to take advantage of the time I have with him”. Part of that, was because for whatever reason I knew that however successful the relationship might be, we only had a limited time to be a couple. Specifically my two last boyfriends. When I was dating them I would think to myself, “I only have this year to be with them, until I leave for college”. So I wanted to take advantage of the little time I had with them. I think even subconsciously I feel like that. I’ve never had particularly long relationships with guys so when I do date them I think they will go away soon so I have to see them whenever I can. So the second thing I want is that feeling of permanence. Knowing that I don’t have to see him today, he’ll be there tomorrow. That I don’t have to see him this week, he’ll be there next week. I want to take things slow. I know that’s not what guys want to hear, and it’s not particularly what I’ve ever wanted but now, I don’t know, I do.

I want to be in control. I usually feel in control of my life. When I feel out of control I take certain steps to be more in control. For example, two years I seriously injured myself, in a way that made me lose my sense of control. Now I had limitations, especially physically, but also a little bit psychologically. I became depressed, anxious, and felt lonely—and that was because for the first time in my life I had no control of what happened to me. My fate lay in the hands of doctors, physical therapists, etc. I couldn’t do anything about the state I was in, I was stuck and I had to watch my physical health work itself out without my control. But I created control, actually with a lot of my writing. I wrote about it, and I wrote about how it affected me, and because I could understand it better through that, and because I could work through the psychological stuff through writing and I could kind of conceptualize it and make it more universal—then I gained more control.

That might seem like its unrelated, but it’s not. I feel like I am not in control when I am dating a guy. That’s why, as some of my dorm-mates have noticed, I am such a freak before I go out with a guy. I don’t feel like I have any control over the situation. And unlike the time where I got injured I gained control in the end, I never feel in control. We could be dating for months, we could be facebook official, we could be whispering sweet nothings to each other. I could genuinely be in lesbians with him (Scott Pilgram reference, please laugh) and he could say he’s in lesbians with me. I still feel lost. Like I’m floating in space or all the oxygen has been sucked out of my lungs or I’m being tossed around in the waves like sea foam. Like a leaf in the wind, like a branch floating down a river, I have no control over my fate. Like it’s all up to him.

And it is all up to him. It always has been. The three times I have been in a “strong” (“”=me being cynical, isn’t it becoming?) relationship with a man, I have been walked away from. It was like I was a thing in the store, they picked me up, looked me over, tried me out, and in the end decided I wasn’t worth buying. And they moved on. And the next customer comes along and it’s the same old story. I can’t do anything about it. I can’t. I am who I am, and I can’t pretend to be something else just so someone will decide to “buy” me. I’m not a salesman, I can’t sell myself. But I want so badly for someone to think I’m worth it.

Some people say “I want a lover not a fighter”. In response, I say to them, “I want a fighter FOR a lover”. I’m so tired of this passive shit. I can’t take anymore ambivalence towards my existence. Aren’t I worth fighting for?! Even a little? Even the guys I have rejected have let it go, they ask me out, they make a move, and I refuse them and they walk away without a second glance. And even though I didn’t want to be with them, part of ms (the selfish part) wanted them to be persistent. Who knows? Maybe if they had tried harder, put in a little more effort, I would’ve changed my mind. I may sound like a prepubescent middle-school girl but as Kelly Clarkson once said, “I want a man be my side, not a boy that runs and hides. Are you gunna fight for me? Die for me? Live and breathe for me? Cuz if you don’t then just leave”. And that’s what I want to say to men I meet. I want to know up from, am I worth your time? Cuz if I’m not, you’re not worth mine.

Because I Pander to my Audience

For David.

Registration Bastards & (Not So) Quiet Snow Storm

Hi hello hi again. Been meaning to update some things, because boy do I have things to share. I first want to talk about the terror that is registering for classes. It really is a scarring experience. At least here it is. Especially for freshmen, who have the lowest priority for classes. Many people in college have experienced impacted classes. Those classes that everyone wants to take and that everyone seemingly gets to take, except you. That’s how Communication 200 was for me.

Picking your classes is hard enough. You have to make sure they are classes that will get you the credit you need and then make sure they all fit together well. And of course that they are actually classes you want to take. So I had decided on COM 200, SOC 212, and C LIT 251 for next quarter. I got my SOC and C LIT class… Not so much with COM.

The process of registering is ridiculous. The school says that registration opens at 6 AM, but people in the know say it really opens at 5:55. So you set your alarm for 5:30, invariably hit the snooze button several times and by 5:53 are clicking frantically. Except it’s not that easy. The loading bar creeps along the page and all you can think is “sleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeepppp—WAIT WHILE I’M SITTING HERE HELPLESS TO MY SLOWLY LOADING PAGE OTHER PEOPLE WITH BETTER COMPUTERS OR FASTER INTERNET OR NIMBLER FINGERS ARE STEALLING ALL MY CLASSES”. And then the page loads and opps, you don’t have the write quiz section because there is an add code or a schedule conflict or there’s no more room in the class or maybe the teacher doesn’t like you. It doesn’t really matter, because it doesn’t really register in your mind, you are just blindly clicking, absently typing in numbers, words, times, etc. Just trying to get your bastard computer to load the bastard page so you can get your bastard quiz section. Suffice it to say I was sitting in my dark room at 5:58 going “Uhh… BASTARDS…. Ummm… BASTARDS” under my breath. Finally I came to the conclusion that all the COM quiz sections were closed and I signed up for another class.

A class titled Water and Society. Excuse me? Could we name that class any lamer? I don’t think so. But it was a class my roommate was taking and what she explained sounded less lame then the name of the class suggested. So here it was somewhere in the six o’clock hour and I flopped back in bed to dream of water… and society.

The next day was the last day of registration, and I was bolstered by the false hope that more COM 200 quiz sections were to open. So again I was up at 5:55 clicking madly, this time with my roommate who was having the same “Umm… BASTARDS” reaction to registration that I had the morning before. I clicked half-heartedly on all the COM quiz sections, found them all filled by the swifter digits of other students, and crawled back into bed resigned to my fishery and aquatics class.

Most other freshman where mixed in their stories. Some had nice stories of “slaying the beast that is registration” (as my friend put it), others has semi successful stories like me and my roommate and yet others are stuck taking random classes that they didn’t expect because they had no other options. Luckily, next quarter I will have enough credits to be considered sophomore status which means I will be able to register earlier in the registration period.
The other topic of this blog post is about the FREAK snow storm that hit Seattle this week. So Sunday I was surprised to see snowflakes swirling around my head as I headed to Pike’s Place with a friend. We were excited about the crazy (for Seattle) weather, albeit also very cold. The day at Pike’s Place was spent mostly inside and thus mostly we were warm. It was actually a great day. We had great Chinese food, bought vintage wall art, and bought some of the best fruit ever, including giant apples that I’m sure were grown a stone throws away (this is Washington after all). I came back that Sunday, tired but so happy about the weather and my fun day.

Monday I was woken up by my roommate pulling up the blinds and saying “Look outside!!” It was a winter wonderland outside of our dorm. Unlike the day before the snow was sticking on the ground and lacing everything with gorgeous white powder. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten dressed in that many layers so quickly. I didn’t even know what I was wearing, I just was pulling on layer after layer. I don’t run, on principle. But I flew down the stair case and crashed out into the cold at record speeds. I couldn’t get enough of it. I was in awe. I spent several minutes just standing still watching it come down and frost my hat and shoulders.
There are a few times in people’s lives where they fully revert to being a child. For me it seems to happen quite often. But not like this. This was incredible.

My first class was cancelled so I spent the morning watching the snow fall in my dorm and sleeping. The snow was soooo zen… it just put me to sleep. I went to psych with the snow floating down and after class I got chipotle, donated to Red Cross (almost voluntarily) and bought gloves. I came back to the dorms to find all my friends outside romping in the snow. I joined the romping and we had a hilarious time. After we tired ourselves out three of us went to get coffee and to go shopping for some food and other necessities.

The snow makes things so quiet. The city streets of Seattle that are normally so bustly and loud, with the people and cars and such, were muted by a white blanket. Things moved slower, made less noise, were gentler. As cities go, Seattle really isn’t a rough and tumble place but it seemed frozen in time. Frozen just like the sidewalks. As pleasant as the snow is, when it freezes it becomes treacherous.

I am from California, snow is a thing of ski trips and Christmas time movies. It’s a relatively foreign concept to Seattle too, but for me, I had very little resources to deal with frozen sidewalks. Coming home from coffee, I slipped on the icy sidewalks. I wish I could say I ate shit and laughed it off. Not so. I caught myself and twisted my knee in a weird way. Too make a long story short I dislocated my knee and ended up in the hospital for the evening with my roommate. She was my saving grace, really. She took care of me as I went from variations of shock to crying to stony bravery and every reaction in between. I got x-rayed, popped back into place, and prescribed some very strong pain killers (so if none of this makes sense it’s not me, it’s the drugs).

To end this post I will share a short anecdote from my hospital adventure. I was given an IV of something crazy powerful for pain. It hit me surprisingly fast, and I went from talking at my usual fast pace (made faster by adrenaline and my excruciating pain) to a slow slurrrrrr, mid sentence. After that I was wheeled to radiology to get my knee x-rayed. As the radiologist was setting up the machine, he was asking me questions. The last question he had for me was “Is there any chance that you are pregnant?” In my slurry, medicine induced stupor I replied “Nah, my love life isn’t that great…” So that’s my little story. He laughed awkwardly and kind of looked around like he didn’t know how to react. Well, Carey the radiologist man, at least you got your answer.

A Few Odes to Pass the Time

I'll be honest, I've never written an ode. In fact, I had to wikipedia just what an ode implied. I even looked up "famous odes" on google. It seems a bit out of my league to be writing odes, and yet I find my self on the precipice of writing four. That's right, four. I promised my roommate, a guy that lives in my dorm, and the two people I spend all my time with at school that I would write an ode to them.

Ode to My Roommate

Thou art my belov'd roommate, through and through,
Who loves me and my disorganized shoes.
And the fact that I do not make my bed
Doesn't worry your cute little blonde head
You love me when I sleep through my alarm
And don't mind when I nibble on your arm
And even if you do, it doesn't keep
You from laughing when I'm falling asleep
While reading my homework. And you don't mind
If I'm messy or I'm absentminded.

You are organized and very pretty
But even though that's true, you aren't petty.
Petty and pretty don't rhyme but that's okay,
Because I know that you'll love me anyway.
You might think this ode is ridiculous
I want you to know that is obvious.
Odes are generally pretentious
Absolutely nothing rhymes with pretentious.
This ode is almost done which is helpful
Because I am done. I love you Ribbit.


Ode To the Caveman

You said you did not read my lovely blog
So I told you I would write you an ode
You live in the basement which really sucks.
I think that if I lived there I'd say "shucks"
Because it is kinda creepy down there
But you have good qualities like nice hair,
A funny sense of humor, and cute sweaters.
You give me Kit-Kats which makes you better
You eat goldfish crackers and kudos bars
I would be surprised if you were from Mars.

There is one thing about you however
I think could definitely be better.
Which that that you always seem to disappear
Which everyone in the dorm thinks is queer.
How many bank statements can one man file?
Just how many buses can one guy catch?
Is going home really that cool? Or Sequim?
Or your sisters apartment? Or your friends?
You seem very busy, but when you aren't
And have time to spare, you spend it with us.


Ode to Sexless in Seattle

You have very hilarious stories
Lunches with you are never a bore
We always complain about the weather
One could say we are birds of a feather
You are a bit of a klutz sometimes
But it is endearing and so am I
You're a vital part of the collective
Sometimes our conversations get sensitive.
We are always understanding of you
My day would not be the same without you.

You seem to be in a weird dilemma
One that I have never encountered
But I think everything will be okay.
I mean after all you are lady
You deserve the very best from your man
And I think at some point you can request
That this lull end. Until then, let him settle
Into home, you, and his new found libido.
Things will get better, until then I know
Firefox is sometimes good for that problem.


Ode to Celibate in Seattle

I know that you probably won't read this
Because it is too technological
But I am writing this ode to you cuz
I think you deserve one. You are very
Brave to claim yourself a celibate.
Even if you are lying or don't think
You can do it, you have admirable
Intentions by at least trying... I guess...
If at some point you will break your promise
It will be because you met someone
They will have to be very special
If you're lucky it will be your true love.

You have had a lot of ups and downs in love
And maybe lately, more ups then downs but
I know things will pick up eventually
You may be celibate, but someday,
Someone, will come along that changes that
If you've noticed, my rhyming has stopped.
I found your ode to be hard to rhyme.
I think it's because your ode is serious
And that I have run out of rhyming words.
Odes are harder to write then you'd think.

Those are my odes. I hope they were.... Ah, fuck it, I don't know what they were.... I hope you liked them. I guess.

Love's Labour's Lost

Hmmm... Here we are again ladies and gents. Let's have a quick catch up. I did indeed go home last weekend for a breather. It was exactly what I needed. ***College Quick Tip: It's okay to be homesick and need to go home. You're taking a huge leap by moving out and going to far off places. Needing to have your mommy and daddy dote on you for a few days isn't something to be ashamed of. And chances are a little bit of them miss making your favorite meal for you.

I came back on Monday and things had settled. I could tell people were still very sensitive, and I am treading softly around the dorms. This week was productive. I went on a really nice date, partied with the girls, and (hopefully) did well on a midterm. So now y'all have an update.

Last weekend, as expected, My Ex called. The drunk dial one that I told to call me in a week. Well last weekend, while I was home (not that he knew that), he called me. Four times. Twice on Saturday, the day I had specified, and twice on Sunday, just to make sure I really wasn't going to answer. The fourth time he called he left a voice mail. I told myself I would not listen to it. I lied. I listened to it with my roommate on Monday.

I keep telling myself I hate him, but every time I say it, it sounds more forced. What is SO wrong about My Ex is that he was the closest I ever got to Mr. Right. He was SO not Mr. Right in hindsight, but I can't deny that I once loved him. I'll admit, maybe a bit grudgingly, that I fantasized about little half Armenian prematurely balding babies running around. Or watching us growing old together. I'm not that kind of girl. I didn't used think like that.

So many things were wrong with that relationship. So many. And I'm trying to decide how to... share with out just bitching it out. Okay, cryptic explanation: He hurt me and I forgave him. Then he broke my heart. Then I... I sacrificed my dignity, my self respect, my innocence and my heart for a man who told me point blank he didn't love me. I sacrificed those things AFTER he told me he didn't love me.

I told myself I had to take what I got. That beggars can't be choosers. If this is what I had to do, who I had to be, to be with him, even if I knew it meant nothing, I would do it.

THAT'S why I hate him. Not because of what he ever did to me. Because when I try to explain what happened I realize I'm not the only girl that has been screwed by a guy. I've realized, it's not what he did, but what he made me do. I negotiated my happiness, my morals, my well-being for a man who I had to hope would call me first.

When I finally realized that I didn't want a man who called me first, but that I wanted a man that called my only, it was too late. I was ripped to shreds. I didn't want love, I didn't want him, I didn't want little balding half Armenians, I didn't want to go on living what I had created.

I needed out and when I told him, he laughed and accepted it. He moved on. And even though I ended it, I felt no closure. I felt no satisfaction. I felt nothing. I felt numb. Like I was watching myself live my life, and I felt like screaming "You are so much better! You screwed up kid, but you are still so much better then this!".

So all these feelings I've repressed came out this week. I could've picked up the phone. Some might say that it would've given me the closure I needed. But I created my own closure. I spent months telling myself I hated My Ex and eventually the numbness turned into anger and I can work with that, that's an emotion with substance. Maybe in six months, maybe in a year, maybe in ten years I'll want to talk to My Ex. But right now I need to protect myself. Because I know what I felt for My Ex six months ago didn't just evaporate. I still need time to readjust.

Last week I went on a date. This week went on a date. Both were nice and both were fun. Nothing is going to come of either of them... The first guy was super nice and I thought things went really well. But he never called. I finally couldn't take it anymore, and hey we're all equals here, so I texted him to see how he was (super non-chalant). He told me he was already seeing someone else. Poop. So maybe a really great friendship will come out of that... Or maybe he just won't ever call me again. I hate being a girl.

This week's guy was also really nice. He had really good intentions. Ugh that sounds awful. He's not my type. Fuck, that's not any better. It's not him it was me. Jeezzzz... I'm such a bitch. Truth be told it was probably the best, most legitimate date I've ever been on. Like we're talking candle lit restaurant, appetizers, gourmet chocolates for dessert and I cringe at the thought of how much dough he dropped to take me out. He's just a kid after all, he doesn't shit cash for chrissakes... Crap, this is not making me feel any better. Okay so why is nothing coming from what I have described as a great date? I have no idea. Lies. I totally know. How do I put this?...

My cursor has been blinking in the same spot for five minutes and the only thing I can think to write is "I'm such a bitch".

He was very attached. I met him last Monday, we went out this Tuesday and I just got that clingy vibe. I told myself clingy was different, not bad. But the warning signs were there and I couldn't ignore that gnawing in my stomach when they appeared. He was so nice, and any other girl would've loved it; loved the attention.

Here's how my friend explained it to me to make sense of why I couldn't dig on this guy. I'm a sloth. I'm very attached myself. I need to find a tree that I will hang out with, and I won't ever need to leave that tree because he'll have everything I need; food, shelter, love and everything else. It will be me the sloth and my man the tree and we will be happy just the two of us. The guy I went on a date with is a sloth. He needs someone else, someone tree-like. We sloths can't hang out together because we'd just cling to each other and like fall into a swam and drown or something (it's a metaphor, people, go with it). So nothing is really wrong with either of us, we just are two incompatible sloths.

That makes me feel better about everything. All my Love's Labour's Lost. Mine, and everyone else's. Go and find your sloth/tree and it'll all work out for the best. As for me. I'm tree hunting and trying to get out of my funk. I'd like to say that everyday gets a little bit better, but it's more like I have my good days and my bad days.

The Honeymoon is Over

First day of college: Met my roommate, met my neighbors, met some people on other floors, and for the most part my first impressions of the people I would be living with for the next year were positive. 

First week after move in: Met even more people, even people outside of my dorm. Dorm friends becoming closer and a core group is developing.

First month after move in: Finding out peoples quirks, friendships becoming stronger, people understanding each other better.

This week: Shit just went and hit the fan. Nuff said. 

The honeymoon is over. We are all realizing very rapidly that a) we have to live with each other 24/7, b) there is no escape, and c) we all have our differences.  Differences in morals, differences in opinion, differences in background, etc have all come together and exploded like a smoke bomb-- there is no escape from it's reaches. Tension is literally taking over. 

Everyone has taken issue with everyone else, everyone is on everyone else's side, everyone is fed up and frustrated. And people are NOT coping with it well. I am not coping with it well. 

I'm not into drama, but I'm too invested in my relationships with others and their relationships with each other in a way that always drags me into the drama. Today's drama really has nothing to do with me directly but I'm still upset about it. I'm still affected. Because I still have to live with these crazy mutha fuckas. So I'm pissed. 

I'm not used to fighting with my peers. I mean I fought with my two best friends but our love was so intense that I knew i could have sold them into white slavery and I know they'd still love me, and the feeling is mutual. But I didn't fight with peers or with vague friends. And I have no siblings so fighting with peers I have to live with is also a foreign concept. 

Home is supposed to be the place where you escape. It's supposed to feel safe. It's supposed to make you feel... at home. I don't feel that way with these people I met a little over a month ago. I feel like every time I walk into my dorm I have to be on my guard. I wake up self conscious and I go to bed self conscious. I cannot leave my room without feeling secret eyes staring, judging, figuring... 

I want to be home in my parents house so I can not make my bed. So I can burp and no get flushed. So I can put on deodorant without hiding behind my closet door. So I can chill out and watch tv or read with out being questioned or judged. 

I'm a homebody with no home. With no where to go. And I like being solitary and that's never possible. From the time I wake up until the time I go to bed, I am bombarded with people. 

It's been a bad day. A bad few days. I guess that's what happens when the honeymoon is over.

Dirty Hipsters/ Open Mic Night

Bad news people. I think I'm turning into (or already am) a dirty hipster. I mean, yikes. Since I've gotten to college, I have been bombarded by hipsters. I have also been bombarded by negativity towards hipsters. Now, I have never really heard of hipsters before. When my roommate explained to me what a hipster is, I'll be honest, part of me was like, "yeahhh... I don't see the issue". Maybe it's because I have inadvertently spent my entire life surrounded by hipsters. I called them hippies because, well, San Francisco's full of them. Apparently I was deluded in my concept of hipsters. It has become painfully apparent that you don't want to be a hipster. And here I am rocking a pixie cut, pea-coats, scarves, skinny jeans, and even a certain sarcasm/cynicism. Apparently these are some of the key symptoms of hipsterism.

Today kind of sealed the deal. Not only did I go to a cafe and drink a latte but I attended the cafe's open mic night. And the worst (or best?) part of it all was I thoroughly enjoyed myself. I had to keep my hands firmly in my pockets to keep from snapping during the poetry. So deep. So hipster. I even bought a button. I was so taken by the concept. It's going to become a weekly tradition and I am going to slowly get up my courage to participate.

I was very inspired. But I don't know what I'd do. I can't sing, I can't play an instrument, I ain't too good at poetry (unless it has silly rhymes), and I don't know if my fictional prose would be... up to par. I am intensely self conscious,especially in regards to my writing, which slowly is being rectified through this blog. I could just talk, I could do stand up comedy probably, I could rant. I'm good at that, I think. I have things to say, but am not creative enough to perform ideas via song or poetry. I like direct communication. I also don't know if that's what they want for the open mic night. A prerequisite might be that you have to be artistic in your presentation of material, in which case, my pontification won't be appreciated. I wanna go up, speak my peace and get off the stage.

Eh. We'll see. Maybe I'll whip out something witty and wise and be able to poetry-ize it. I certainly won't be singing in public anytime soon.

Thinking of things that make me anti-hipster....
-My favorite musician is Billy Joel
-I don't hate materialism. I know this because I couldn't live with out my computer, iPhone, or Steve Madden shoes
-I like being happy, and only sardonic in moderation
-I show my emotions
-I actually like my friends
-I shower
-I don't have excessive piercings or any tattoos
-I don't really listen to contemporary alternative music, Vampire Weekend aside.
-I like reading tabloids
-I have faith in humanity
-I really really love school and have ambitions
-I don't wear beanies, glasses that I don't need, or excessive layers
-I don't resent my family or childhood
-I recognize how dumb hipsters are
...There must be more... Oh well, that's extensive enough for me to know I'm not completely hopeless...

College is Well... One of Those Things...

There are some days (especially in Seattle) where you just sit in coffee shops and talk all day. Or if you’re my friend and I, you sit in coffee shops and take photos on Mac photo booth all day. College is a lot of intellectual intercourse, both in and outside of class. College is one of those times in your life where no matter who you are, you are interesting. It doesn’t matter if you wear all orange every day (true story), or dress like a hipster but aren’t actually one, or spend an hour expounding on mitochondria with someone. It doesn’t matter, you are interesting. You are constantly bombarded by stimulating events and people. We are all figuring our shit out, or maybe if you’re lucky you’ve already figured your shit out (but I have my doubts). I mean, I’d like to think I have some sense of self-awareness but that doesn’t mean I can t tell you what I want out of my life. Much less out of my college experience. If you don’t know who you are, like me, then my best advice is to do what makes you happy. Don’t think about what you should do. Work hard in whatever direction you can, and where ever that takes you, it won’t ever be a bad place. I am a freshman after all. I can’t be expected to have all the answers.

If you do in fact know—or think you know—what you want to do when/if you grow up then mazel tov. I can personally think of only a handful who I know who know what they want in life, my roommate being one of them. She loves belugas—to an extent that often is a bit concerning, if not extraordinarily endearing. But besides a slightly obsessive tendency towards anything whale, she knows what she wants to do with her life.

There are plenty however who have no idea what they want, myself included. One of my best friends back home has gone through countless life ambitions ranging from running a fat camp in the Sierra Nevada Mountains to starting a commune in Australia to being a flight attendant. For all intents and purposes it changes daily. Yesterday I found out she got offered an awesome opportunity to study at a really great school and wants to take it. But life ain’t perfect and there are always going to be obstacles. Unfortunately for my friend, she has been blessed with some epic complications. Financial issues and a worry over leaving her awesome boyfriend (among other things) have made her hesitate about jumping for joy about leaving home. If college wasn’t about getting out of your comfort zone I would worry about her. But I’m not worried about her, she has amazing potential, and she will be happy even if it’s a scary prospect to venture forth into the future.

Then there’s me. Ha. My future; I guess it looks pretty bleak given that it has really… nothing planned for it. I think it’d be safe to say that my future is a constant distraction for me. I think A LOT about my life; about what my life is going to be. I want it to be grand. Grand. That’s the best word for it. Big and bold and important and Grand. I want to go places, even if that’s more figuratively then literally. But I feel like you have to find that one thing you are best at. Your calling as it were. I need to find a calling. Then I have to perfect it. That’s like… a lot of pressure for a young person. With millions of life paths, how am I to know which one is best for me? Ack! Is that even possible? I don’t want to waste this one life I have on something half-ass. Something I’m mediocre at, that I like in moderation, and am f.i.n.e. with. I don’t want to be fine. I want to be grand. I throw myself in so many directions, I get lost in a sea of potential. I think and think and think about a thousand things at once but I can’t focus on any one thing; any one goal.

I don’t know what I am. I know what I am not. But knowing what I’m not is only indirectly helpful in figuring out what I am. But I have faith in my ability to fulfill my individual needs. I know myself well enough to take care of myself. I’m independent and I’m not one to give in to pressure. I’m stubborn, I don’t settle, so even if I don’t know what I’ll do yet, I will fight to figure it out. I’m not going to sit back and watch life float by.

Unspoken Rules

I have noticed that growing up consists of many unspoken rules. Here are some that I've learned recently.

1. Wash your dishes regularly. This seems like common sense, but when you're washing for one it's easy to say, "I'll wait until I have a few more dishes and wash them all at once, instead of washing one or two a day." That system would work really well if a funny thing called mold didn't exist. Here's how I know I've waited too long to do my dishes: If what was once in there is now unrecognizable as a food substance. If looking into that bowl on your desk, you cannot remember what you were eating that made that kind of rancid crust around the edge, you have waited too long. I promise you it is much less pleasant to spend 30 minutes washing dishes with unrecognizable rank then to wash the dishes one at a time. If you are brave and are unfazed by mysterious substances in the bottom of your glass, then here's another tip off that you've waited to long to do dishes: When you knock over a dish and fruit flies fly out. It's unpleasant. I don't consider myself an unsanitary individual but lets be real, I have forgotten about some dish or other sitting on the corner of my desk and come back to find something I could have lived my whole life without seeing.

2. Don't get fat. Soda, cookies, chips, and pizza are the four food groups in college. I don't remember how many food groups there are normally but in college you live off those four things. So don't get fat. Remember that there are other things to eat then junk food. But again, it's impractical to think that you will be able to avoid those thing completely. So drink Coke Zero; eat cookies in moderation (I recommend dark chocolate for those of us like me who are addicted to chocolate-- less of it satisfies cravings, it has less milk and thus less fat, and it has healthy type things like antioxidants); eat Baked chips or pretzels; and get veggies on your pizza. If you can mix up the variations of dorm food and junk food you will burn out much slower. But burn out will inevitably happen. When this happens I either drink as much Odwalla juice I can cram in my body or I eat Thai food off campus. You're body needs fresh fruit (and veggies as much as my roommate and I might deny it) and protein, so remember that. In cafeterias there is a lot of "mystery meat" meals. So people go for vegetarian options or other alternatives. It's surprising how good it feels to eat good meat when you do-- and that's because your body is deprived of a little thing call protein. So in the end, take care of yourself, the freshman 15 is not an legitimate excuse. Plus when you go home for vacation don't you want to look fabulous in front of all those people you left behind.

3. You are not an adult. Don't pretend like you are one. You are a freshman, you are anything but the big man/woman on campus so don't get big headed now that you are in college. Just because you don't live with you're parents anymore, doesn't mean you know everything. This means a few things. One is that it's okay to be confused, homesick, lost, and dumb. You have every right to freak out. For the rest of your life you will be over compensating for the dumb things you did in college, so enjoy them and don't worry if you fuck up.

4. Make friends. It's pretty self explanatory but don't stop meeting people. Don't get complacent because you feel like you've met your core group in college. You should get out, walk around, go to events, say hi to people, introduce yourself to people.

5. Don't get into a hot tub in your dress no matter how drunk you are. This should be self explanatory.

6. Most likely you are a dinosaur. This rule means nothing and makes no sense, but I'm stalling while I think of something.

7. Keep up with your homework. Seriously. If I'm diligent about my reading in my psych class I have roughly 7 pages a night, sometimes less. But forget a day or skip a weekend, and you can fall behind extremely fast. As my friend says, "finish your homework so in your free time, you can actually have free time." Basically this means, if you are diligent about your work, you will be able to do fun things, and with the added bonus of not feeling guilty that you are behind in your work and aren't doing it. It can be very easy to do your work, or very difficult, and it depends on pacing and focus. Don't study in the dorms with the expectation that you won't be distracted. Roommates, neighbors, friends, music, youtube, facebook, food, your bed, etc are all distractions that are usually limited to your dorm. Find a quiet place, outside or in a library-- although if you live in Seattle like me or think libraries are for pussies/nerds then find a cafe, a mug of coffee and a comfy chair and snuggle up with your text book. Word from the wise though, don't get too warm and comfortable or some texts will lull you to sleep and that is even more embarrassing in public.

I Guess You Had to be There...

Here are some quotes from college. Updates will ensue. (Initials used for anonymity.)

"And I was like *slurp slurp slurp*." - CM

"I was also a leader in my high schools cock eating club." - MC

"No swearing." - NUB
"No uptight bitches!" -duumone

"if you were a penguin I would buy you ice until we got to Antarctica." -KT

"Electricity is for muggles!!" - JK

(Reading milk bottle on October 3rd)"Use by October 1st.... Coollllleeeeggggeeee..." -BM

"It's like whatever." - JK

"Are you sure he's not just an asshole?" - AM

"I'm doing exercises to keep my form. If someones gunna rape me, they are gunna enjoy it." - MC

"You don't need an umbrella. You're in Seattle." - KT

(About alien Porno) "Take me to your hard on." - DR

(In reference to pictures of sea life) "It looks like Mickey mouse." - CM
"Anymore that look like Disney characters?" - DR

"Woah! I'm not supposed to be up here!" - BM

"You can slap my ho" - AM

(Reading Shakespeare)"If thou more murmur'st, I will rend an oak And peg thee in his knotty entrails till Thou hast howl'd away twelve winters." - duumone
"SWOON!!" - BM
"Uhhh, not really a swooning moment..." - duumone

"If your skin is bluish you are an Avatar. There is nothing wrong with yo.u" - BM

"I keep on top of my homework so in my free time I can actually have free time." - CM

"I Threw It On The Ground!!!" - DR

"Bitches be bitchin'." - DR

"Boys boys the wonderful fruit, the more you... Mmmm that might need some work." - BM

"Bieber bulimia." - AM

"You have a beautifully androgynous face." - Random woman

"I'm impressed. And a little bit frightened." - duumone

*Coughing* "it's just- too- juicy" - BM

(To roommate)"I LOVE THE WAY YOU LIE!" - duumone

"How weird would it be to date an octopus?" - AM
"He'd be really clingy." - BM

(Being one of the most intimidating professors)"I touched God last night. It was a good night for God." - CD

"It's when... you bake... gooey things... ITS THE OVEN!" - AM

"It is no secret that John Locke is considered one of the founding fathers of modern democrazy." - DS

"I wish I was a kangaroo so I could have a pouch to put my peanut butter in." - BM

"Just Kuwait a second!" - BM

"Drink your odwalla, you'll be fine." - CM

(Running into a wall)"PARKOUR!" - KT

"You dirty pirate hooker!" - DS
"She called me that yesterday don't take it personally." - BM

"What were we talking about? Oh yea-- what the hell?!" - AM

(About ring tone)"ALIENS! It's happening!" - BM

"What the fallopian tubes are you doing?!" - duumone
"What the uterus is going on?!" - BM

"Mandividual." - duumone

‎"That moment was filling enough." - DR

"I krump for Christ." - KT

‎"I'm judging you. I'm judging you RIGHT NOW." - DR

"Judgers be judgin'." - DR

"Cramming on crack." - BM

‎"You loud ass pieces of shit." - CM

"Less jellyfish, more CM." - DR

"I was more afraid of my balls popping out." - CT

"Muthafucka, Godzilla was a girl!" - S

"I think in my head. Where most people think." - DS

"Humans were not meant to solve problems with multiple variables." - DS
"We are single variable people." - AM

"I'm a dinosaur, that's what we do." - DS

"Chubacca writes poetry and snaps like a hipster." - DS

"Have you noticed that all the ugly people in the world host radio talk shows?" - DS

"You better swallow if you want to see me tomorrow." - DS

"Boys do what they want, men do what we want." - DS

"Goddamn marketing ploys get me every time!" - BM

"He's like Mietus, everything he touches turns to gold." - KT

"Poetry has revolutionized my existence. I have faith in the truths they speak." - DS

"I don't know where this is going, but it's gunna be good!" - DS

"This kid with Down syndrome stole my lighter and it's not even racist because it's true." - BM

"Parrots, if I ate them raw, would taste like eggs and blood." - CC

"We have a chef. Chef Dave. He drinks with us. He has three kids." - CC

"There is no purple on a rubix cube because that would be racist." - CC

"You had dibs on him. You practically peed on him." - BM

"So I threw it in the recycling! Not as catchy." - CM

"Lasers remove tattoos, but assholes are forever." -J

"He's like a male angular fish; he attaches to the female." - BM

"She's like herpes, you can't see her but she's there." - KT

"MY date with my knight and shining apron." - BM

"He done swagger the wrong way!" - KT

"Even brick walls have cracks sometimes." - BM
"Don't say that! Our dorm is made of bricks!" - DS

"Leadership skills?? Fuck that!" - BM

"Kiss my beautiful black ass!" - BM
"I feel like I should be the first to tell you, before you offend someone-- you are not black." - DS

"I'm a baleen whale, I'm filter feeding, leave me alone!" - BM

"I might have to take money from you." - CPM
"I don't have any." - DS
"Then I'll have to take your... dignity." - CPM
"I don't really have much of that either." - DS

"You are a glorious, majestic woman crab!" - KT

Here We Are

So here we are one month into my college experience and I've decided to start a blog. I've dedicated this blog to fleshing out ideas I have at this point in my life and sharing anecdotes from all my college misadventures. Whether you have been in college in the past, are in college right now, or have not yet gone to college, read, laugh, and remember. I suppose if I were really diligent I would have started my blog at the beginning of college. However I think there are plenty of reasons why expecting myself to have a)the idea to write this stuff down from day one and b)actually done it were impractical. First, there are a thousand and one things to do the first week and a half after you move in. Secondly, what does a freshman who just moved into college know? Even at one month I still get surprised about what college throws at me. Now at least I have some stories to look back on and go, here I am. Today.

Lets start at the very beginning. I'm talking basic college shenanigans. Nerf guns, hall sports, parties, football games(eh...), RA's, Mercernaries, dorm hall council, junk food, the roommate, and boys. And classes. Homework load: manageable. Professors: cute (well one is, the others... not so much) The schedule: >3 hours everyday.

Fast forward to last night, which is what is really on my mind. Halloween weekend and thus many many parties. My friend and I decided to go to a friend's boyfriend's house party. She went as a 50's housewife, I went as a undercover cop (think Olivia in Law and Order SVU only in leopard print). It was a fun party although I think it's safe to say I wasn't myself. **College lesson: I am still in process of finding myself, don't judge me for what I am today, I will be different tomorrow.

And then my ex texted me. Cue giant nuclear bomb explosion in my brain. It really doesn't matter the history, it just matters that he broke my heart and moved on with his life like nothing happened-- think the song Breakeven by The Script. And I left for college two months later never ever wanting to see or hear from him again. The only thing I could do was pick up the phone and call him. Drunk. It took two months, several hundred miles distance between us, and a few too many shots for him to decide he gave a shit about me. Suffice it to say I would not have it. I called him out on his bullshit over the last several months and told him to call me in a week; if I felt like talking to him I'd answer, if I didn't I wouldn't answer and he was never to try to talk to me again. Now I am left with a week to decide whether or not to pick up the phone.

Here are some of the pro's and con's of answer the phone. Pro's: I can call him out while he's sober and not when he's drunk and will selectively remember last night. I want a chance to hurt him. I know it sounds awful but for months all I have wanted to do to him is permanently physically, mentally, and emotionally break him. Because I feel broken. I want him to hurt like I hurt when I think about him. If I pick up the phone I'll have one more chance to do that. But there are a few con's to picking up the phone: I don't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he still has an effect on me. I want to rise above him and by not answering I am telling him "you are not worth the effort. You are scum of the earth and you and I know it." And let's face it, he obviously still effects me and if I answer the phone he will be able to speak his peace and knowing him, and knowing how I react to him, he could sweet talk his way out of my bad side.

I was slowly healing. Everyday I stitched up the wounds. And last night it felt like he ripped open all those wounds again. If I answer the phone it will just further delay my healing. I want to move on. I have better things to do with my time then worry about my ex.

The night ended well, so I'm optimistic about my future prospects. :)
So, hello world. I'm alive, I'm in college, and I'm ready for a new adventure.