Today is a lot like all of the other days in my life.
Checking Facebook. Eating cereal. Wondering how I can change myself to make the people in my life love me.
I've already had three bowls of Chocolate Dino-Bites if that tells you anything about how this day is going.
I always become excessively contemplative & whiny towards the end of the semester when twenty-page papers are due, and I can't bring myself to JUST DO THEM.
I went to a party in the hood of Philadelphia last night and won 6/8 games of bostonteavodka&gingerale pong.
Good nights with good friends are worth the next-day, left-brain headaches.
One day I will post more than once a month.
Maybe today is the start of it.
There are few things that make me feel better than watching quick-witted TV shows like Cougartown or Scrubs while eating Lo Mein while my roommate's Boxer dog lays silently at my feet. Sometimes she looks cute instead of like Yoda. Right now is one of those times.
The steps leading from the parking lot to my school are too small to take one at a time but too big to skip one in between.
I am halfway through a masters degree with a great job & a wonderful boyfriend living in a high energy city.
I've been up here for a few weeks now and loneliness has been settling like the too-large gallon of milk sitting in my refrigerator.
It feels just about the same.
I'm in Panera for wireless because I can not afford internet or cable in my apartment
& my school "thinks" they have been "working on" the problem for a few days.
I have, however, been more productive with my English degree
than I have in the past four years at Wingate.
Not having a pool outside my window and neighbors next door offering a hot pink beer-bong also helps with efficiency.
Boy has been great about this whole longing-for-home thing.
He actually listens and doesn't tell me what to do to fix it,
which is more than I can say for any other guy I've dated.
Sometimes, however, there are things that even immense amounts of cuddling and French Onion soup in a bread bowl can't fix.
i woke up this morning to a curtain-cracked sun through the holes of a keyboard.
i missed the sunrise for, i'm sure, the millionth time in my life.
but i saw it when it counted. in the arms of someone i care about.
it was a breath-taking hot orange sunrise.
I've always believed that if I was following God's plan for my life-career, that I would never doubt, and I would always be a thousand percent confident, excited, and overjoyed.
The thing is, I haven't been. I've been more terrified than anything.
So am I really doing what God wants me to do?
Since I was four years old, I've been telling my mother that Jesus told me I am supposed to be a teacher.
No, Mom! Not a lawyer! Not a doctor! Not a clown!
Jesus told me I'm supposed to teach.
The past few years have been a mixture of a suspense-building excitement mixed with doubt that I will do well at this whole God-plan thing at all. Apparently, I'm lacking in my own life-verse department.
I read a devotional this morning which stated that even though God's plan isn't always the most exciting thing, no part of this life on earth is. That's why it's not heaven on earth. Yet, anyway.
But he has promised to sustain me. He has promised joy for following His will and to give me the desires of my heart.
And now I've never been more excited to follow His Father foot-steps in the sand.
My Ezer Kenegdo.
and I am ready for this.
I can never get enough of Brad Pitt. He is the most cliche sexy man & watching him take off his shirt and speak in a Pikey accent for an hour and a half was the equivalent to eating Mrs. W's rice pudding, which, according to her, tastes better than sex.
my routine is something like count chocula cereal, thinking i have enough time to get ready, not having enough time to get ready, singing loudly in the car & thinking maybe one day I'll sing in front of Boy, sitting through an excruciatingly boring class hoping my professor doesn't fart again [insert vom] & making phone calls for four hours to people who are all "no thanks i don't need a trainer" "i hate ____fitness center" & "baby girl". Yes, I get nicknames from people whilst talking on the phone to them for 2 minutes.
I guess that goes along with a co-worker of mine telling me I had a phone-sex voice on my first day.
i think he needs a mouth filter.
you know, in retrospect, my life is quality.
i'm now going to wade through my old navy wardrobe and seven bottles of liquor [don't worry, kids. i'm 21 now] to get to the door.
i'm wearing an over-sized t-shirt and going to eat chocolate cereal with chocolate marshmellows.
i am obviously all grown-up now.
I have a heavy heart at night. Typically, this is the only time I get to write, and it's after days of structure, demands, exploding pens, missing Boy, spilled diet cokes, and not-enough-appointments-today-Danielle.
i'm a happy person. i think i'm just cranky at night.
I want abs like his --->
I don't have a little anecdote from the past few days, but I have been working hard attending interviews & working, & I think that counts for something.
I'm embarking on a long [10hr] adventure tomorrow, & I'm sure I will have life/death experiences, learn things about myself I didn't know before, and probably end up screaming at my mom & simultaneously loving her for something she says or does.
my bamboo plant looks sad even though he has plenty of water. I think he knows i'm leaving him for a few days.
Sometimes when I write, I turn into an emo kid with long, black, greasy hair in my eyes listening to The Devil Wears Prada & Gojira.
Sorry about that.
Graduation day. The last few weeks of college.
They came and went so quickly with the brevity of a summer rainstorm.
The panic attacks set in once more as glimpses of college memories
and the blackness of an unknown future jet across swollen-from-crying hazel eyes.
Summer is here.
It doesn't feel like summer this time.
I don't feel safe anymore.