Unfortunately, you’re just going to have to wait to read them until my friend and I publish our book about them. In a few years. Maybe. Probably.
Also, I’m still completely undecided on what I want to do with my life. But. I’ve realized I really like teaching.
I’m really not at all a hard girl to please. All I ask for is consistency. Why is that so hard to keep up? I understand that life gets in the way of plans and things. But why don’t people start off with how they really are instead of changing themselves trying to make people like who they really aren’t, and then all of a sudden change back because they weren’t really like that in the first place?
I’m not even just talking about boys. This also goes back to all kinds of friendships too. Just be consistent. It’s not hard. Be you. Do you.
this sounds like my past few weekends… sorryyyy.
so i may have failed my midterm today (ok, maybe i’m overreacting, or maybe i’m not, but i know i wasn’t on my A game) and gotten little amounts of sleep for no reason because i wasn’t up studying, but having that 2 hour conversation in the middle of the night was probably one of the best things i could have done. losing one of my best friends since high school for the past two years for some of the stupidest reasons really hurt me, and i’m really glad that we talked a lot out and are putting most of that past us so we can go back to how things used to be, where we used to talk about everything and anything and it wasn’t uncomfortable, even when i cried in front of him.
this year (from january to now) has been seriously full of new friends, reuniting with old friends, and figuring out who real friends are. i know this sounds extremely cliche, but you really do grow a lot in college. and this year has probably been the year where i’ve done more growing (not vertically however) than i ever have, and i’m so glad for it. this has been the most comfortable i’ve been with myself, and i’m really happy with who i am (even if not everyone likes me).
so you know, glad that’s all out. now back to regularly scheduled programming: stressing out about my 12 page paper and exam and other 5 page paper due all before the 13th, and of course, the world series.
trying to figure out ways to pay tuition, drug dealing definitely came up in conversation. I have to say, I have thought about it. I had a friend who did it (not at my school though). and who would suspect a girl who lives in the healthy living floor? plus i’m small and inconspicuous. and then my friend reminded me about the 10 crack commandments.
1. Never let no one know how much dough you hold.
2. Never let em know your next move.
3. Never trust nobody.
4. Never get high on your own supply.
5. Never sell no crack where you rest at.
6. That God damn credit, dead it.
7. Keep your family and business completely seperated.
8. Never keep no weight on you.
9. If you ain’t gettin bags stay the fuck from police.
10. A strong word called consignment, if you ain’t got the clientele say hell no.
thanks biggie.
(ps i totally have a midterm tomorrow.)
You ever feel like you’re just going through the motions, trying to get everything done with the little time you have, and just get really jaded? At the same time, I have this overwhelming and irrational fear that something bad is going to happen. I realize this is completely absurd to even think, but it keeps coming up. I keep thinking something might happen to my father, and while I haven’t heard anything bad from my mom, I just can’t seem to shake the feeling.
My father and I don’t talk when I’m at school. He’s only ever called me three times when I’ve been up here in Boston, and two of those times were because he wanted me to do something I was completely unwilling to do. And while I know maybe I should be the one to break the silence, we just don’t have that kind of relationship. We’re usually fine, but I left home in late August in the midst of an argument we had, and even when I went home for the long weekend, we barely spoke. It’s not that I don’t care about him, we’re just two hardheaded individuals unwilling to apologize because we both think we’re right. But yet, I keep thinking how he’s getting much older—he’s 67—and he’s still working full time and working overtime and not exactly the healthiest of people. And it scares me. It scares me to death to think that something might happen to him while I’m over 200 miles away. And I’m not sure what to do about it.
