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Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in
Canuck's Blurty:
| Sunday, August 7th, 2005 | |
| 8:54 pm | Sigh. Last week was rough. In addition to moving to a new facility at work (and having to drive an hour to get there), I was on my period and having a miserable time with picking. I calmed myself down, though, and let myself heal. It feels somewhat good to have fought the demons and come out on top in the end (even if I had a few bad days). I think that the reason my picking was so bad last week was because of my period -- and because I'd gone off of the birth control I'd been on. My body was probably insane with the change in hormones...and I took it out on my face. Needless to say, I'm starting back on the birth control very shortly. Nothing much else is happening, I'm afraid to say. I had a soccer game tonight and quite nearly sweat myself to death, but we won - 2-0. Mom and I have been refinishing/recovering/painting furniture in preparation for the apartment that I need to get and the move that I need to make. It will happen sooner rather than later. That's all, I guess. Just living the life. |
| Sunday, July 31st, 2005 | |
| 11:02 am | I hate myself. This has to end. This denial, pretending that I'm 90% past my picking problem, it's only making things worse. It's only causing me more physical and mental damage. It isn't doing any good. I am embarassed with how I look right now. My face is trashed. Yesterday, I spent the day at a work function to celebrate the grand-opening of a new facility. Today, I have to go to the company picnic. And I just hate that my coworkers are seeing me like this. I look, to put it mildly, like hell. I can't pretend that this isn't happening anymore. Expect a lot more entries here. Not so much about the exciting (ha!) life and times of little ol' me, but about my picking. Because clearly it isn't a problem that I can just shove into the back of my head. I need to address it. I need to analyze it. I need to be conscious of what I'm doing, why I'm doing it, how I can improve, how I can stop. Because I'm so sick of feeling ugly. And I'm so sick of the guilt that I carry because I know that I am the cause of my feeling ugly. I pick the skin. I do it. It's my problem. And I need to find a solution. Because I hate feeling like this. |
| Wednesday, July 20th, 2005 | |
| 10:01 pm | 11 days later... Why the fuck do I have no motivation? My alarm clock went off at 5:30 this morning so that I could go skating before I went to work and...nice...I turned it off. I have never done that before. I really have no desire to go to the gym, either. It's strange. Unlike me, you know? I blame it on soccer, which sucks the energy out of me on Sundays and leaves me quite sore and without energy for the rest of the week. Things with E and I have really hit the skids. I haven't been out with him since Ginga's birthday -- JUNE 11! I haven't seen him since Lou's birthday -- July 2. Come on! Clearly, nothing is going on between us. I've given up calling him every day (which I did for a long, long time) because he was hardly ever calling me back. I think he got the hint; we're probably doing something this weekend. We'll see. Tomorrow I'm going to the Tiger's game with my family and three of my cousins. I don't really want to go, because I feel like I really really need to go to the gym, but at the same time I feel like I should take the opportunities I'm given to spend time with my family. And maybe that's worth being chubby for. My picking was bad last week, but I've since gotten back on track and I'm looking mostly good. There are two bumps on my face just screaming for me to pick them to a pulp, but I'm resisting the best I can. No need for a scabby face, especially if I'm seeing E this weekend. I got interviewed for a newspaper article today. Yikes. I am willing to bet that I come out sounding like a complete ass. Ginga and I met for coffee tonight; how heavenly. She is so absolutely delightful. There is no one in my life who compares to her. She leaves for Thailand on August 12; I don't know what I'm going to do with myself. My boss has been on vacation this week. I have a thousand little projects to do while she's gone. I'm really going to have to push to finish them. Annoying. Being busy, however, kicks the ass of being bored. The days go by so much faster (though I don't have the time to blog/read blogs, which sucks). Speedy days = good days. And that's about it, kids. Life doesn't suck, and I suppose that's all I can ask for. |
| Saturday, July 9th, 2005 | |
| 11:10 am | I'm in a funk For the last month, I've only skated once per week. That, boys and girls, is unheard of for me. It's just so damn hard to get to the rink before work. I hate having to shower, pick out my clothes and pack my lunch so that I can be out of the house by 6:30. And I don't have a ton of motivation right now. So I just don't go. It has to stop. I need something (what exactly, I have no idea) to give me a shot in my arm. Anyone have a magic potion for inspiration and motivation? |
| Wednesday, July 6th, 2005 | |
| 9:52 pm | Summer, summer, summertime I had a sad weekend and I had a relaxing weekend. I hate that the sad was mixed in with what would otherwise have been an almost-perfect weekend. We had to put one of our dogs to sleep on Saturday morning. It was heartbreaking. He didn't do well on Thursday or Friday but, when I got up on Saturday morning to go to skating, he was in such obvious pain. I knew it was time. Mom kept saying we'd wait, we'd see how he did that day, but, ultimately, it was the right thing to do. Even though it was my sister's birthday. Even though we were having her birthday party just hours later. I've been so busy at work. We sent out a huge promotional postcard and, as a result, I've been fielding phone call after phone call. The insanity makes the day pass faster, so I suppose I can't really complain. Lots of quality time with Miss Ging. We had a dinner/Starbucks/movie night on Friday and we met for Indian food tonight. I love her. I couldn't have a better friend, honestly. We're so alike, but different enough that we compliment one another more than simply mirroring one another. We don't dress the same. We don't spend our free time the same. But we're both passionate about music and politics and...knitting. Tee hee. My picking is better. Not great, but better. When I think of how I was at my worst -- probably my sophomore and junior years of college -- I am so much improved. But I still have a long way to go. I ache for a day that I can look in the mirror and not inspect my skin as though it is a foreign body that needs to be policed. My skin is not bad. I am not bad. I need to stop punishing. I deserve to feel better about myself. I deserve to look better. I've been reading a lot lately. Fast Food Nation, which I rather enjoyed despite liking fiction much more than non-fiction, and Elizabeth Berg's The Art of Mending. I always like Berg's books, even though I don't find them particularly complex or beautifully written or anything that I absolutely must read again. They're as close to a guilty pleasure that I have, as far as reading goes. But trust me when I say that her books are 9,000 times better than any romance novel. :) If you're looking for a quick, interesting beach read, I suggest her books. My plan for tomorrow is to book a plane ticket to NYC. A weekend in New York. Doesn't that sound fabulous and glamorous and fun? |
| Monday, June 27th, 2005 | |
| 10:32 pm | Sweaty It's fucking hot and I'm fucking cranky. Things have NOT been going my way lately. I wouldn't say that I'm totally unhappy, but I am definitely less than thrilled with life the last couple of weeks. My skin has been a wreck. I've been a picking FOOL. Last week I was so, so bad and pissed off at myself about it all of the time -- but I think I've got things somewhat under control. I may be able to resume acting like a normal person sometime soon. We'll see. Why is it that some times I can ignore everything on my face and other times I feel like every bump on my face needs to be poked and squeezed? What's the difference in my psyche? What is the button that's being pushed? I with that I knew so that I could face it. It would be so much easier to resist the temptation if I knew what sparked the craving. I've often thought that it's hormones, but...it's unpredictable. It isn't a monthy thing. Lately, I can't stand being around my sister. It makes living here so, so much harder. She is a bitch all of the time. Everything is such a big deal. Her life is so hard. It is so hard to be her. She is so busy. Shut the hell up, Child! You know it must be bad if I'm bitching about her. I kiss that kid's ass like nobody's business. I think that things with me and Erich are just about done and over. He doesn't call me back like he used to; we're not together every weekend anymore. Part of me wants to be upset about it, but...it's too much work. I don't know if I even care anymore. What's forcing him to like me going to do? Work is so stressful right now. There are a thousand different things that need to be done before the building opens. Most of the thousand are things that I don't have the authority or the knowledge to do. So I sit around, absorbing everyone else's stress and feeling utterly useless. It's not a lot of fun, but I suppose that's what being the lowest person on the totem pole is all about. This upcoming long weekend could not come soon enough. Neither could the end of this sweltering heat. |
| Tuesday, June 14th, 2005 | |
| 9:57 pm | Hello, hello! I know that I'm really shitty about updating this...but you guys know that you can read my blog, right? Speaking of my blog, I got the absolute sweetest email from one of my readers today: Two of my friends just told me -- within 10 seconds of each other, mind you, which freaked me out -- that they have been reading your blog regularly since I linked on mine. Their words: friend 1: " i love the way she writes." friend 2: "she has a great voice." go you! sure you don't want to have a creative writing job? =) p.s. even weirder was that they both started the email sentence/IM conversation with, "speaking of blogs." ha. So that was really, really nice to hear. Life has been speeding past me lately. As soon as I figure out what the hell is going on, the moment is over and I'm trying to catch up all over again. I'm playing softball and soccer, going to the gym and skating. Dad is trying to teach me how to golf. I'm knitting a purse. I'm trying to find the time to read Fast Food Nation. I attempt to get a little bit of sun on the weekends. I'm working. I'm finally spending time with Erich again. I need to bake cookies for my cousin's graduation party this weekend. I'm trying not to lose my mind. Quite the task. I've been SO much better about my picking. The last three weeks have been AWESOME. Very little picking. What picking is done is minimal and not the dig-huge-hole-in-flesh type. I just feel SO much better about myself when I'm not ripping myself apart. My legs have little bumps on them in places from my soccer shin guards and from wearing sunscreen on my legs, and I was smart enough to spare the picking and slather the bumps with zit cream and, once that dried, Nu Skin (which is a liquid bandaid). Hello quick healing! Try it girls. For real! I got the new Coldplay CD. It's growing on me. My friend Dina and I are discussing a trip to Vegas this fall. Wouldn't that be totally awesome? I also need to find a suitable time to take a long weekend to visit her in NYC. I keep forgetting to ask my boss about it. I can't believe that it's the middle of June. What the fuck is happening? I am going to blink and be 40. |
| Sunday, June 5th, 2005 | |
| 1:24 pm | Unexcellent isn't a real word You know what’s totally amazing? (Well, ya’ll probably think that it’s amazing that I’m updating, but we’ll just leave that out.) What’s amazing is how much frigging easier last week was because I’d gotten some real, genuine rest over the weekend. I was, like, bounding out of bed in the morning. Even at 5:30 to go skating. Let me tell you: it was stellar. The reason that I had so much energy, I think, wasn’t really all that great. It was because E was out of town all last weekend. He was at a soccer tournament. That was okay. What wasn’t okay was that I talked to him all of once last week (on Friday. Though we played a bit of phone tag on Thursday and Saturday.) and haven’t seen him at all this weekend. How extremely unexcellent. So, I don’t know. Maybe he found a new girl. Maybe there’s something else going on. Maybe he just forgot how totally awesome I am. I’m just trying not to work myself into too much of a tizzy because of it. Last night, I went to see a movie (Enron: the smartest guys in the room) and dinner (at a less-than-impressive Thai restaurant) with Ginger. Halleluiah! Bonding time at its best. After dinner, we went to her house and played UNO. And it was, perhaps I should be embarrassed to say, incredibly fun. But everything with Ging is incredibly fun. I have my very first outdoor soccer game today. It’s going to be hot. Like pushing 90-degrees hot. I just may pass out. I took a figure skating moves test yesterday. Moves test consist of all of the hard, yet subtle, nuances of skating. Turns, edges, body position, etc. I definitely failed my test. It wasn’t my best skate. And, because of my competition, I didn’t have a lot of time to prepare myself. So I’m not heartbroken in the least. But it still sucks. Testing is expensive, goddamnit! And retests definitely aren’t free. |
| Monday, May 23rd, 2005 | |
| 8:22 pm | Hi! Look at me!  |
| Friday, May 20th, 2005 | |
| 2:14 pm | It’s Friday. I don’t have to make any sense. The New York Times ran a fascinating series on class this week. The article on class and marriage hit me pretty hard. Especially the part about fewer couples choosing to marry partners of a different level of education. While men used to commonly marry a woman who was less educated than he was, it’s now more common now for women to marry a man with less education “the combination most likely to end in divorce.” Yikes. I’ve blogged about it, but I don’t think that I’ve addressed it here. He went to a few semesters of community college, hated it, did poorly, dropped out to work full time. And, honestly, I don’t see anything wrong with that. College isn’t for everyone. But is the contrast between his lack of a degree and my snooty BA too much? I worry. I’m not saying him and I are going to be getting married. But. The NYTimes article stirs up my concerns more than they’d already been stirred up (which was quite a bit). My sister’s friends are all home from college now. And are at my house all the damn time. It’s mostly annoying, to be frank. I feel like I have to keep my makeup on. I’m not secure enough to go around without it. Pathetic and sad. OH! I have a skating competition this weekend. The first skating competition that I’ll be skating as an “adult” (as opposed to the “open” competitions, which are all kids). I couldn’t be more unprepared! I got my program three weeks ago. I haven’t practiced in my dress. It’s going to be a mess! But, I am surprisingly calm about it. There’s a complete lack of anxiety, which is a nice change that I hope will continue through my program on Sunday. We’ll see. I have a lot more “tricks” than a of the skaters I’m competing against, so I have a little bit of hope that I won’t end up at the bottom of the pile. Wish me luck. In other skating news: I’m taking a field moves test two weeks from Saturday. Gulp. Gasp. Am slightly worried, to be honest, as I have recently neglected practicing my moves because I’m busy with work and can’t skate as much as I’d like and, when I am on the ice, I’m practicing like a crazy woman for the competition that I’m not ready for. It looks absolutely beautiful outside. I hope it stays absolutely beautiful through the weekend. The weather here has been less than desirable, except for when I’m at work. I’d just like to see some frigging sunshine. That’s not too much to ask. Picking this week has been much improved. Mostly nonexistent, in fact. It’s a very good thing. I need to make an appointment to get my glamour shot for work taken (gag). I really don’t want to have to explain to the marketing girl that I haven’t gotten my picture taken because I dig holes in my face with my fingernails and I can’t stop doing it long enough to have a clear, pretty face for the company website and that’s what I haven’t gotten my photo taken yet. Yeah, so, I think I’ve covered just about everything. From the unexciting to the super unexciting, I have spanned the spectrum. Now aren’t you guys happy that I’m updating more frequently? That’s what I thought. |
| Wednesday, May 18th, 2005 | |
| 9:44 pm | You Know What Else? I'm tired. Oh, Wednesdays are so fucking long. Start with the alarm clock at 6:00; home, after work and driving and driving and driving and after soccer practice. Yuck. And I was supposed to skate this morning, too. Blah. I pick because my mom picked at me. She just came in here and touched a zit I have on the back of my neck and I was so pissed that I wanted to rip her arm off. Probably not a healthy reaction. Okay. I just need to put some minty lotion on my tooties and go the hell to sleep. Sometimes it isn't even worth trying to make sense. |
| Monday, May 16th, 2005 | |
| 10:15 pm | You Know What? I'm Happy. I don't know how he can make me SO giddy. He just called and, I swear, our conversation was about absolutely nothing. And I hung up and, god, I could cry I'm so happy. We talk about nothing and it means everything to me. Maybe I'm just setting myself up for disappointment. I don't know. We went to see Kicking and Screaming on Saturday night. With two of his friends and their girlfriends. A triple date of sorts. Doesn't that mean that I'm something more than a friend? ...oh. There's no sense in answering that. I know that I'm more than just a friend. But less than a girlfriend. Halfway between good and great, I suppose. We need a quiet night together. Alone. We haven't had one in a while. I want to talk about things. I think that I'm finally in a place to start the conversation. This is so new. I've never done this before. I've never been so excited by a five-minute conversation. I've never wanted to tell someone every tiny detail of my life. I've never wanted to be around someone every second of every day. He's every thought. Every second. It's lust. I won't fool myself into seeing it as love. Whatever it's label, it's awfully nice. |
| Tuesday, May 10th, 2005 | |
| 4:53 pm | Picky and Bitchy I’m losing it. Whatever it is, it’s lost. Gone. Yesterday was a bad picking day and I am so incredibly down on myself about it. If I could just settle down, keep my hands off of it and let myself heal, it could be gone in a few days. Instead, I’m being neurotic and psycho and out of control. Sigh. My trip to Chicago was filled with equal parts bad and good. The good was being with my family, seeing my cousins, getting away from my life for a weekend. The bad was missing skating (I have a competition in less than two weeks!), the loooooong drive home in the middle of the night, and going to a hockey game with my uncle. The hockey game was for work purposes. He does the advertising for the team we were going to see and, because they had a game, he invited me to go with him. Sounded good. He mentioned introducing me to some of the people who work in the front office and he mentioned that he thought that it’d be good that I meet them, because they may serve to be contacts I can eventually use. And by eventually, I thought he meant when I was ready to move on to a new job. Not, like, in a week. But things were discussed in terms of me interviewing in a week, being hired in a month, moving within six weeks. It was my uncle’s way of making it very, very clear that he did not approve of my job. I was really, really upset about it at the time. Oh, hell, I’m still upset. I hate feeling like I’m not doing the right thing, like I’m not reaching my potential. I hate knowing that my uncle has unrealistic expectations and still wanting to please him. I want to please everyone. I think it’s one of my bigger problems. One of my many problems. I can’t go to the gym tonight, because I need to go to AA to pick up my skates from my coach. Which means that, by the time I make it to the gym on Thursday, it’ll have been a week and a half since I’d last gone to the gym. Fuck. I really need to get back into a routine. I finished hockey and coaching skating last week, so it’s time to get back into a routine. I should be able to make it to the gym M, Tu, Th, F. Which will hopefully do wonders for me. Bathing suit season is creeping up on me. The new Dave Matthews Band CD came out today. Wheeee! I’ve only gotten to listen to a few songs. I’ve really liked one of them, “Dreamgirl,” and I already like “American Baby,” but I wasn’t so sure about the other two I listened to. My sister is getting a tattoo today. I’m disturbed. I haven’t seen Erich in a week and a half. I won’t see him until Thursday, at the earliest. Maybe that’s good, since I need time to let my face heal. But it’s still a bummer. And that’s about it, everyone. I’m going to try to keep this from being updated once a week with a vomit of information about what I’m up to. No, really. I seriously am. |
| Tuesday, May 3rd, 2005 | |
| 9:12 pm | I suck. I don't know why I can't keep this updated. I'm sorry. Actually. I do know why I can't keep this updated. My life is spinning totally out of control right now. But I'm not unhappy. Which is nice. Wonderful, even. I went out with Erich on Saturday night and it was mostly amazing. For a girl who has felt like such a hideous outcast for so much of her life, it's refreshing (and shocking) to hear boys imply that you're pretty. That, if not for Erich, they'd be asking for your number. E's friend Dan asked how a guy like Erich could pull a girl like me. And I want to know the opposite. This girl, Shannon, who we met up with at a bar (along with 9,000 others Erich knows) kept calling me Erich's girlfriend. ...even after he introduced me as his good friend (which I was okay with). Later in the night, she told Erich "I like her. She should be your girlfriend." I nodded. Ha. And Dan asked me what was going on with me and Erich. When I told him that I didn't know, Dan said "Erich doesn't know either...He tells me everything you say." Hopefully not everything. That would be a little too embarassing. Whatever. The important thing is that I feel like we made progress this weekend. Progress towards what, I am not exactly sure. But progress nonetheless. Tomorrow is a busy day. Skating followed by work followed by the Tigers/Red Sox game with Dan (who I interned with). I fully expect to be exhausted. And I guess that's it, kiddies. |
| Wednesday, April 27th, 2005 | |
| 10:18 pm | Not Even A Little Interesting I just went shopping with my sister. I ended up with nearly $200 of very cute stuff. I have no self control. And how did I get such expensive taste? It's really bad. I spent today in conflict management training with all of my company's managers. I like the people I work with. Fun people. Relatively young. Funny. Good-spirited. I think this job is going to be okay for me, you know? I like the corporate culture. I'm comfortable with it. Anyone know what the MI weather is going to be like this weekend? I would f'ing kill for some warm weather that I can lay out and read on the deck in. (I am now checking weather.com) Fuck. Rain on Saturday and only in the 50s. Not exactly what I wanted. Not much else happening, I'm afraid. It's been a lame week. |
| Tuesday, April 26th, 2005 | |
| 4:48 pm | My Head May Explode Hello, everyone. I am a mess. I don’t know what the hell is happening, but I think that my body is revolting against me. I feel like hell. Friday, of course, was the spell in which I came oh-so-close to puking. Monday was a killer sinus headache and – oooh! Pretty! – swollen eyelids. Today, I still have the sinus headache and I still have the swollen eyelids. Yeah. It’s hot. I look Asian. No. Actually, if I looked Asian, I would look skinny and demure and exotic. I just look like shit. Wish I knew why. The headaches have to be due to the change of weather – we’ve gone from snow to springtime to a rainy, cold November in the last three days. It’s miserable. I don’t know what the fuck is up with the eyelids. All I know is that it is NOT a cute look. I went to Erich’s on Saturday night. He’s so much more affectionate towards me when he’s drunk. I like it and I hate it. Full-time work has me feeling quite out of whack. I was too busy as it was! And now I am expected to be a productive member of society with a full-time job? I cannot accept this. I may never accept this. I’m still thinking a lot about Kelli (yes, for those of you who read my blog, everyone has a pseud) and her dad and being at the funeral home and all of that. The whole thing was so surreal. Part of me feels like such a tool for going. I wasn’t with her at any other monumental milestone (like having two children, for instance) in the last four or five years – I feel like I was almost butting in. But, you know, maybe that isn’t something that you think about when you’ve lost someone. The truth of the matter is that I’m almost certain I would have been happy and overwhelmed to see her in the same situation. I went with Brooke and her mom. Gah. Letting her back into my life seems wrong, quite honestly. But I’m not good at holding a grudge. She doesn’t know that she ever hurt me. She probably never will. |
| Saturday, April 23rd, 2005 | |
| 9:47 pm | Friends, More Dina is home from NYC for Passover. I got to see her this afternoon; it was really nice just to sit on the couch with her and shoot the shit. I wish that I could see a little more of her, but the reality of the situation is that she's home for three days and her brother's family is visiting from Wisconsin and it's really not fair for me to expect for her to squeeze in time for us to go to lunch or a movie or whatnot. After leaving Dina's, I picked up Thai and a movie for me and Ginger. Ahhhhh. There isn't much better. The movie, The Door in the Floor was better than I expected and I ate Thai food until I thought I would explode. I absolutely adore Ginger. I could never ask for more in a friend. This afternoon was soccer with Taylor, of course. She was spunky and cute and just watching her churn her chubby little legs as she runs after the ball tickles me absolutely pink. She is so fun to watch; I can understand why parents go nuts over their kids their accomplishments. Erich was there when Taylor and I were at soccer. He came over and talked with me and...god. The chemistry. It is SO there. I called him later. It was there. He called me, too. It was there. I called him on my way home from Ginger's to see what he was doing tonight -- I haven't heard from him. I probably shouldn't expect to. I'm just...I'm going to bite my lip and try to get through, like, the next week. After that, work slows down dramatically for him and, if we still can't get together then...I'll suck it up and take the hint, I guess. Sigh. It would really fucking help if I had any idea how this shit works. BLAH. |
| Friday, April 22nd, 2005 | |
| 10:03 pm | Partial puke I almost barfed at work today. It was pleasant. I was fine in the morning, I was fine when I first got to work, and around 11:00 I just started feeling incredibly queasy. And my boss pulled me into her office and was explaining how to use this computer program and I just started feeling worse and worse and worse. As soon as we finished I was in the bathroom, on my knees, thinking that I was going to ralph bananna all over myself. I didn't. Thank God. On my way home from skating tonight, I was about 10 minutes from my house and I got pulled over. Awesome feeling. I was speeding, yes, but I was only going seven or eight over. I got a warning. Sweet. I don't know what the fuck is going on with me and Erich. ...I feel like I'm always writing that I don't know what the fuck is going on with us. Because I don't. I never know. It's Friday. It's 10:15. I haven't heard from him. If he calls, it'll be at 11:30 and he'll invite me over. And I'll go because I just don't know any better. I haven't been at his house or hung out with him in two weeks. But we have these amazing phone conversations and -- hi. It's frustrating. We need to do this or we need to not do this because this inbetween is hard. I can't get onto my blog. Sketchy. And I am sorry, by the way, that I'm being so bad about updating this sucker. The working world is sucking me dry. |
| Tuesday, April 19th, 2005 | |
| 9:16 pm | Small talk, big meaning We were on the phone last night, him and me, and we were talking about the soccer game he refereed. Two younger sisters of a girl he used to date were on the team. Which got us on the subject of this girl who he used to date. ...who I happened to play club soccer with when I was a senior in high school. He told me that she doesn't remember me. I said that I wasn't surprised. He was so forceful when he insisted that, yes, she should remember me even if I only played with her for a year. We get into this argument about coffee all of the time. I tell him that he should drink it, that he should give it a try. He tells me that it's horrible and he's tried it and he doesn't ever want to try it again. Last night, I told him that he needed to try it with me, because I would make it good. "You'd make it good, huh?" was his response. "I make everything good," I told him. I nearly wept out of pure joy when he said, honestly, "I know." I feel like I am so fucking busy right now. I only got to the gym twice last week; I'll only go once this week. My nights are booked, between soccer (M, W) and hockey (Th) and coaching skating (F); I can't go to Saturday or Sunday morning classes because I'm skating. It's insane. But this is my last week of the indoor soccer session. I might drop down to one day/week, I might not play at all. We'll see. I've been starting to look for apartments. I need to move out. I was thinking that I'd stay through the summer, just 'cause my sister will be home, but I'm not sure. Seeing as where I'll be working, beginning in April, is an hour away from my home now -- I'm a little torn. I want to stay close -- because of Erich and Mom and Dad and my gym and all of that -- but I don't know about an hour commute, each way, every day. It'd get awfully old, awfully fast. I also need to get a new car. One that I pay for myself, you know? I'm going to frigging miss my Mountaineer, but there's no way in hell I'm going to drive an SUV with gas at $2.25. Should be interesting in the wintertime. I'll wait until the snow to stary worrying about that. |
| Monday, April 18th, 2005 | |
| 6:53 pm | Pain in the Neck In my hockey game yesterday, I got cross-checked in the neck. It was one of the scarier things to ever have happened to me playing sports. I was in front of the net -- and I'm not sure how it happened, but I ended up with someone's stick being pushed against my neck. It left a red mark, perfectly the size of the stick, that's still there. And my frigging throat is all swollen. It feels like I have strep throat, strangely enough. Can't swallow. Hurts to breathe. Very unpleasant. But, I stayed in the game and ended up with two assists. I am a warrior. ...a sore warrior. I'm going to go to my soccer game tonight, though. And I'm sure it has nothing to do with the fact that I'll see Erich. hahaha. Speaking of. We did NOTHING together this weekend. Huge bummer. I don't know what the hell is going on with us. We talk on the phone every day and we clearly have something, in terms of chemistry, going on for us, yet we're not doing anything with it. It's incredibly frustrating and it cannot go on any longer. You know, he asked me to go to the bar with him and his friends on Wednesday night at, like, 11:00 and I turned him down because I didn't want to be tired at work. Stupid. I'm only going to be 22 once. I can handle being exhausted every once and a while. I finnnnnnnnally finished reading I Am Charlotte Simmons and I will officially recommend it. Good book. I'm rereading Love Story and then I'm on to the other books by the author of Because of Winn Dixie. DMB's video for "American Baby" is going to debut tonight. Painfully exciting. That Dave Matthews. Can't get enough of him. |