What's goin' on

I'm smack-dab in the middle of RA Training. Aaaaand I'm loving it! I was dreading it but now that I'm in the middle I remember why I loved August training so much.

We've been doing the normal sessions, meals, etc together (I know you don't know the normal, but the purpose of this post is not to describe RA Training).

Tonight we had a session entitled "Comfort/Discomfort" where we first started out with a bunch of questions regarding our abilities (not as RAs, but as people) and how we felt about certain topics (sexuality, race, etc.). This wasn't that bad. Next, we broke into groups of 9-10 with a CD and went to private rooms to discuss various issues. We were warned that we could get upset, mad, various emotions and that this discussion was meant to spur debates and make us uncomfortable.

Now, walking into it, I had an idea of what was going to go on, but I didn't know for sure.

We started out with the normal, "What people are you comfortable with, not with ....etc." And then we (I actually cannot remeber the exact question that started my speaking buuuut" moved on to why are you a certain way.

A fellow RA (the session was supposed to be confidential and I won't tell you who it is, but she's a great person and I never knew we could connect on this level) started talking about the fact that she's from a racist family and that she's the way she is because she wanted to not be like her family.

At this point, I hadn't really had anything to contribute to the conversation, but as she was speaking, I related to her in so many ways, and decided to share my family experiences.

The CD that kind of, moderated the conversation is a very nice, successful, strong black woman. I got to share with the room that I come from an extremely racist family. I also actually connected the reason I HATE to go home to this fact because closed-minded people really irritate me. And I honestly didn't make that connection until the time I was speaking.

I didn't tell my group this, but I feel it will be better to get it off my chest since I'm feeling better about my personal situation with my parents.

My dad is really racist. His idea of a good night is sitting in front of his tv, drinking beer and bashing those unlike him. He hates black people, and loves to share jokes about them and use the "N" word.

My mother is an alcoholic and is bipolar. She doesn't take medicine for this, but just drinks her days away. She has a job and everything. But since my dad travels for nine months out of the year, she copes by putting every aspect of her children down and drinking until she passes out.

I hate the "N" word. I hate never leaving my house. I hate having to endure endless "conversations" with my parents about how I'm NOT doing in school and how I'm NOT doing everything I can with my resources.

My brother took seven years to graduate from college. SEVEN YEARS. SEVEN YEARS. I used to be told that as long as it took me less than that I was fine. The thing is, they get on to me about graduating soon, and yet they don't pay for school. They don't care about my education. They forced me into a major I hate, and then decided to not support me. They didn't even ask what my grades were when I came home for Christmas. They don't care.

I'm used to this. I really am. They never asked in high school, because I would always offer the information. Because I was a good student in high school. I didn't need motivation. I was fine. Really. Not that I need "motivation" now, it's just really disheartening that they couldn't care less.

My parents do pretty well for themselves. My dad, however, is a tightwad. So, I can NEVER talk about money to them. Because if I paid $5 for something, he could have found it for $4. The only relationship I feel I have with them is financial. Honestly, that's how I feel sometimes.

My parents are not the parents I think I needed. Not saying that I'm not thankful for everything they have done and everything. But I feel like if I had more reliable parents with a more normal childhood, I wouldn't feel certain ways about stuff.

I really like a black guy I go to school with. I respected my parents enough to tell them that (even though they didn't ask). And even though there is nothing going on with him. I gave them the heads-up. It annoys me that they were so uptight about it.

I don't understand why they hate a group of people. I don't understand why a lot of people hate certain groups of people. My parents, either of them, have never had a bad experience with a black person (that they have told me about, at least). So, why do they hate them? Because their parents did. Great example. If we all lived like that we would all be combo chain-smoking, gun toting, alcoholic bi-polar people. Everyone has a black sheep of their family. In my family, I'm the black sheep because I'm accepting of other people and ideas. That feels odd to me.

It also worries me a bit because my brother used to be just like me, then he got married, settled down and he either wanted dad to like him so he started doing everything we hated as kids, or he actually changed his morals and ideals to this closed-minded horrible lifestyle. Wanting to stay holed up in his house and not meet new people, become further educated or experience new things. I don't think I'll ever be like this, but what if my brother said that five years ago?

* I just tried to read this, but it's getting heavy for me. I need a break. I'm going to post this now, though. I don't care who sees it...I need to get this out for me. *







**This is not a pity story, it is me sharing my feelings and frustrations.**

So, you know how I always talk about how clumsy I am? I've proved it twice in one day (major headache and lots of bruises) and I've been severely disappointed by a guy I really liked (h.e.a.r.t.b.r.e.a.k).


Yay 2009?!

So this is the new year.

I wish the world was flat like the old days
Then I could travel just by folding a map
No more airplanes, or speedtrains, or freeways
There'd be no distance that can hold us back.

Recently finished book:

"What is love? Great minds have ben grappling with this question through the ages, and in the modern era, they have come to many different answers. According to the Western philosopher Pat Benatar, love is a battlefield. Her paisan Frank Sinatra could add the corollary that love is a tender trap. The stoner kids who spent the summer of 1978 looking cool on the hoods of their Trans Ams in the Pierce Elementary School parking lot used to scare us little kids by blasting the Sweet hit "Love Is Like Oxygen"-- you get too much, you get too high, not enough and you're gonna die. The troubadours of our times all agree: They want to know what love is, and they want you to show them.
But the answer is simple. Love is a mix tape."

- Rob Sheffield, "love is a mix tape -- Life and Loss, One Song at a Time"

I have just returned from the most amazing place I have ever seen in my entire life.

I have found a place where I can forget all of my troubles and cares. No, not downtown Asheville (but you can see it from there!).

The Cut, as it was referred to as to me, is the most amazing place I have ever experienced.

Anything I have been freaking out about. All of the things that have been worrying me these past few weeks lifted while I was there.

I am literally speechless. I just really needed to document this night because it was that amazing.

"May all your trails be crooked, winding, lonesome, dangerous, leading to the most amazing view where something strange and more beautiful and more full of wonder than your deepest dream awaits you." - Edward Abbey

Originally written on 12/15/08...and I've waited a year...and nothing has changed. It's time to be posted.

The second coming of High Fidelity has arrived in the form of Rob Sheffield's "Love is a mix tape: Life and Loss, One Song at a Time.

The reason, well, not reason, but the thing that has aided me staying up for the past couple of days (and Narnia). Amazingness.

Other amazingness in my life? iTunes Genius. If I weren't so tired and lazy, I would find at least three posts where I bitch about the fact that iTunes doesn't have a conscience when playing my music, and how you cannot, I repeat, cannot play Death Cab for Cutie or Dashboard Confessional after Hanson's "Mmm bop." So, now there's this nifty iTunes Genius where I can, with one click, find my current mood song, and have iTunes magically make a 20-to-100 song playlist that I will hardly have to change. Another good part, I can click another time and find new music! And then click just once more and buy it! Amazingness, I tell you!

I got really sad today. No, it wasn't my grades/school this time. I was wrapping my friend Lindsay's Christmas gift, really sloppily and remembering how much time I used to put into wrapping gifts. Especially Randy's gift. I would package things up, put bows with curlies around everything (not to make them harder to open, but because it was pretty) and then I would get a huge box, and line it with tissue paper, and then I could place it all in perfectly, sprinkle candy around it, and then wrap the whole box. I used to love wrapping presents. I was so excited to see how it looked under the tree, and then his face.

I was sad because I remembered that this was going to be the first time I didn't get to put so much thought, time, and effort into a gift for someone I cared so much about. The first time I realized this, I was in Kohl's with Lindsay and I literally thought I would be sick. It hadn't hit me until just then, just before Thanksgiving that I wouldn't be shopping for a significant other this year.

I should probably wait for the rest of this post. But I am absolutely not tired, and Batman and Robin is on...so I'm not sleeping anytime soon.

I loved him. I loved him more than I loved anyone. Ever. It was my first love. (Yes, that cheesy "From the Bottom of my Broken Heart" Brittney Spears song did just pop in my head.) Then, it all fell apart. At the time, I was so sick of thinking and analyzing it, I was relieved when it ended. Not happy. Who is ever happy when that happens? Then I moved on to being content single. Then I moved on to being happy (this summer). Then I realized it was time to move on. That was hard. Even after we broke up we hung out some. Like it wasn't over. Except for the other girl, that is. And then this summer I finally had a crush on someone different. It caught me off guard. But I was ok with it. And then, maybe two weekends before Thanksgiving, I realized he wouldn't be at Thanksgiving, I wouldn't be at his. I wouldn't have anyone to go window shopping with, and remember the tiny things no one catches to get him. And, it's not really him now, it's "him." There is no call to wait for when I have to go to my parents house and be bored out of my mind. There's no one to really look forward to seeing. The summer thing ended quickly (He spoke, I realized he was just pretty to look at). Now, there's someone I like, and I'm figuring that situation out. But nothing compares to being smack in the middle of (I have to say it) love with someone. That comfort is completely gone. I have fantastic friends who attempt to make me feel better and cuddle with me, but they don't love me the way it's missing.

I made plans with Lindsay for New Year's Eve tonight. Sleeping really late, dinner at Doc Chey's, and bar hopping. This will be my first New Year with alcohol! We're inviting everyone who wants to come, but we know we can have a blast by ourselves.

Rob Sheffield pointed out a new makeout song, Prince's "Adorn." Of course, I youtubed it ASAP and fell in love. I love being introduced to new music.

I'm not gonna lie, I'm thinking of not posting this post. Earlier this week...security was compromised. In the best way possible, however.

"All of the words
In all of my life
That could never explain
and never describe
All of my love
Which is nothing to hide
So a lift up my hands
and I worship"

We all know I'm not churchy. But I love this song.

And this one:

It is time.

It's the end of the semester. The last day of class was yesterday. I'm busier than I have ever been in my whole life. And, of course, I don't have time for the mental breakdown I feel I deserve.

So, my rant.

This has been the worst semester of my college career. Really, of my entire academic career, but grade school doesn't really count anymore.

I still hate accounting with a passion. And my grade will certainly reflect that. I went to class every day (only missing three days at the end because we weren't doing anything and I knew I wasn't going to pass anyway). I tried. But not hard enough. I'll be a three-peat in accounting two. I suck at life.

I hated research methods (the class I'm trying to finish my final paper in right now..writer's block. err). It was boring. Has nothing to do with management. Dr. Griggs talked me into taking it and then she left.

I had my most favoritest teacher for Human Resource Management thinking that even the most boring subject could be livened up by Dr. Cole. Wrong. Don't get me wrong. He's still the man. It's just impossible to make hiring and firing people interesting. He gave it a valiant effort, though.

Statistical Quaility Control. I withdrew from. The name is as intemidating as it sounds.

When I withdrew from that class. I added a second term class, which started in the middle of the semester. It ended up getting dropped and then I was placed in a chemistry class. Um. Yeah. I went twice...maybe three times? I'm getting an F in that class.

I'm getting a D in accounting if I'm even lucky. Dr. Cole's class...maybe a C? And maybe I can pull off a C in research methods. I know. I really suck at life.

Wanna hear the worst part?

I have to keep a 2.0 to first, stay in school, second keep my job. If I go on academic suspension, I lose my job...and I have no way of paying for my car...or my credit cards which are ridiculous. I'm basically FREAKING OUT.

I LOVE my job as an RA, and I might get that taken away from me. And my car? How am I going to pay for it?

I don't know what to do. And I SHOULD be working really hard on my research paper so I can do well in that class, but I'm having trouble with a big part of it. Which, just goes to show, start big gigantic papers early so you can ask questions because 24 hours before it's due...it's kinda hard to get those things cleared up.

Then, of course, there's the love life. Lack thereof, I should say. LOTS of mixed signals and wishes that go unfulfilled.

I want this semester to be over, but I have huge gigantic paper, Dr. Cole's final, and my accounting final to fail before it is. Then, I have to wait four more days to find out if I can still be an RA and live in my room and on campus and still be in school.

I can't write anymore now. My head hurts.

Next semester (if I can make it until then) will be better. Things can only go up from here, right?

Shut up. Seriously.

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No really. I don't care what you're talking about. Please shut the fuck up. I do not care what you're saying...stop blowing smoke up your own ass.

You're the next contestant on "Name that lyric"!!

And if I live a thousand years
you know
I never could explain
The way I lost my heart to you
that day
And if destiny decided I should look the other way
The the world would never know
The greatest story ever told
and did I tell you that I love you
tonight


If you know what this is from I'll be impressed.

I used to hate it, but now I think it is beautiful.