Summer is almost gone

It's almost fall, and I have to say I'm completely ready for it. However, even though it's going to be my favorite season, it's also going to be spent alone. All those travels to the apple orchards, haunted houses, rolling in leaves, taking walks in the brisk air, bundling up in sweaters next to bonfires.... basically I will have to buck up and do everything alone while I get to watch all the other couples happily laugh and enjoy the perfect weather for being in love. I know I'm strong, but damn is it going to suck being 652 miles away from the one I love. Nevertheless, bring it on fall, I'm done with summer.

Thank frickin' god it's Friday!

Welp, we all made it to Friday; I guess that is an achievement in itself after a loathsome work week. I feel like we should have a nationwide celebration. I'm even half tempted to listen to the annoying, pre-teen Rebecca Black anthem for Friday; "gotta get down on Friiidayy, Friidayy." Nevertheless, as much as I would like to party-hardy, I must float gracefully back down to reality and the fact that I am indeed in the most insipid city in the country. Why have I been cursed so harshly by the 'Gods of Fun'? I guess I will have to make due with what I have at hand; currently it's a kitchen, my two cats, my bed, and the car with no air conditioning (need I remind you that this has been the hottest week on record for my state). I could cook. No wait take that back, I can bake because my cooking skills are nil. I can burn anything from meat to toast; I just have that special talent. I can, however, bake cookies and cakes like Betty Crocker herself. Some banana muffins and zucchini cupcakes sound quite satisfying. I could always just paint my nails the usual hot pink or nude or maybe go for something more adventurous. I could give up on doing anything exciting or out of the ordinary and just take a nap. This last option is sounding quite appealing because of the less than 6 hours of sleep I obtained the previous night. Maybe after I will get my Netflix movie out of the mail that I have dying to see the past six months; Sex and the City 2. And since I would have the house to myself I can watch it contently without the fear that my two younger siblings will intrude. Why can't I have a radical night like Bill and Ted. Not only did they get a phone booth time traveling machine delivered to them by George Carlin, but they got to pick up some most excellent people in history (Billy the Kid, Socrates, Abe Lincoln, Joan of Ark, and even Napoleon). I wish I had friends like them. I would love to take them all to Waterloo and the mall to venture out into society and reek absolute havoc; how memorable would that be! Of course, unlike Bill and Ted, I will remember to bring pre-chewed gum in case the antenna breaks. Hopefully whatever I end up doing tonight it will be epic and most awesome. 69 dudes!

This is definitely how a Friday night should be spent.

Boredom: it is always inevitable

You can hear me belt out tunes, quite off key and a bit too loud, at the kitchen counter. It's a free show to anyone who cares to put up with my pesky habits; when the house is quiet, the heat index is 102 degrees, and the mid-afternoon television is treacherous, it is then that I turn to my handy iTunes library and the shuffle button. I have roughly 47 days worth of music (and sadly that's only a little over half my actually music library; the rest disappeared in a tragic data transfer to my, what was then, brand new mac), and I know every single word to every single song. I guess you could call me a boss, ha. Today is definitely a Paul Simon kind of day, only the best for my most mind-numbing, mundane days. How can this Paul Simon song not get you on your feet and dancing, and Chevy Chase just adds to its awesomeness. So, yes this is how I spend my boring days; music up, my Honest Tea in my hand for when I get parched, and my white socks on to slide vicariously through the halls. If someone has any better suggestions as to how I should spend my ho-hum days off work, please feel free. For now I will be harking my terribly heinous voice to old school rock. Adios mis amgios.

John Mayer always seem to cure the sleepless nights.

Battling through.

These sleepless nights with too much on my mind.

I guess I'm always in a constant war,

With myself.

It's so frustrating when your mind seems to running on a constant hamster wheel. I feel like it is never-ending; the problems, the scenarios, the craziness. Moving back to school in a month, the stress of homework that I have yet to start, waking up for a another dreaded day of work, not getting anything out of summer that I expected, family chaos, the fact I haven't put in any effort to exercise (which is catching up to me quite quickly), and realizing that I am not getting as much needed rest as I should be. Nevertheless, putting on the select playlist I made for just these special occasions always seems to do the trick (which just so pleasantly is named Mayer). Now all I have to do is stop typing, close my laptop, lay my head back, and let my mind wander in a care-free world. 

L is for the way you look at me

I am questioned as to what I think true love really is. I may be considered young and inexperienced, but I feel that I can answer this question just as well as a couple celebrating their 50th anniversary. I have been through so much in my short years, but I can assure you that I know what I am talking about. It is the dozen of roses waiting on your door step when you wake in the morning. It is having someone who is there for you when there is no time. It is having a shoulder to cry on even before you know you need it. It is getting surprised with a slow dance to no music under the moon and stars. It is the hug that can cure any problems, and the kiss to sweep away any fears. It is the hand to wipe away all troubles and tears. It is the laugh and smile that is contagious and will make the rest of your day. It is the reassurance from them, even at your worst, that you are the most beautiful person that they have laid their eyes on. It is touch that sends shivers down your spine. It is the breath on your neck that makes your knees crumble. It is the feeling of being one when your bodies combine. It is the look that comforts you in your most terrifying and nerve-racking moments. It is the sound of their voice that can make you realize that you have everything you ever wanted. It is the knowledge that they will never hurt you, whether it is emotional or physically or mentally, which allows you to give them your everything and all. It is the ability to open up completely knowing they will never judge. It is the last kiss that leaves you always craving more. It is the happiness you from holding their hand. It is the craving of wanting them to be the last person you see at night and the first to see in the morning. It is the safety and protection they give you in all aspects and situations in life. It is the euphoric feeling that you get when acting completely and underly ridiculous, and even though others may look at you like you are insane. Its is the understanding that they are your absolute best friend. It is the joyous feeling that engulfs your entire body knowing that they are your one and only true love.

My First Time... for blogging at least

The gorgeous beach front house... Knocking on heaven's doorstep

Where I belong; watching the sunrise with dolphins frolicking in the distance while the waves crash gently on the creamy, soft-sanded shoreline.

So this is definitely a major league first. Blogging, ha. Wow, I actually started one after all the crap I have talked. Who even knows if I will keep up with it; I know exactly how I am, the type to start but never to finish. But what is there to actually talk about? Life, travel, love, sex? I guess I can do that basically a diary online with some sort of anonymity. So I guess we can start with who I am exactly and the beginning of my summer. I am a college student at the, uh well, let's just say its a freaking cold state and a relatively small university. I am home for the summer in the state shaped like a winter accessory; which I can argue to be one of the most horribly boring and uneventful places on this continent until you reach the tender age of 21. To add to my frustration I am at a loss for friends. I of course have a boyfriend and his friends, until they deem "man time", in which case I am given the boot. However, without them I am pretty damn lonely. It's safe to say that I miss college. If it weren't for back-stabbing girls, quarrel- starting guys, and petty drama from the high school era I would not have to start my life over from scratch. I know that should probably let go of the past and focus on the present, but to lose all friends, and basically entire past life, will make anyone a bit bitter. But now that I am home for the summer I work, watch tons of old movies, and hang by the local pool; exciting right? Expect for the one extraordinary vacation at the beginning of the summer. I was given the false hope that if  the first two weeks of my summer were this amazing the rest would just follow; how about a major hell no. I tagged along with my boyfriend and his family to the Outer Banks of North Carolina, and got to stay in a $7 million house on the ocean with three other families. Probably one of the most over-the-top, marvelous houses I have ever been in, let alone stayed, in my entire life. It was incredible to walk on the beach every morning and look for shells, swim in the surf all afternoon, and stuff myself to the brim with home-cooked meals every night. I got to spend every day with the love of my life, in paradise nonetheless. The only disappointment, there was someone in every part of that gigantic house and beach at all times. No fun and play with the parentals around. Besides that, and the headband/purse thief (that is another story in itself), everything was pretty amazing and exceeded my expectations. I had many highlights, too many to write down, but I can definitely tell you about the old man's, who was sitting contently on the shoreline watching all the festivities and everyone splashing in the tide. I was traveling out in the water with my boyfriend, traveling a little farther than usual. We made it to the sand bank about 100 feet off shore. My BF made it beyond the break and was floating with the current, but with my fear of the drop-off point (mostly attributed to Finding Nemo... just a joke, promise) I stayed behind at the sand bank. I instead searched for some sea glass or shells, essentially whatever was shiny and caught my eye as the waves rolled out. I was beyond focused and content with my hunt until I saw someone flailing in the waves, frantically running in my direction. By the time I realized who this lunatic actually was, he had already grabbed hold of my hand and was dragging me to shore. Apparently my BF had almost stepped on a stingray that was swimming in my direction, and since men are largely intrigued with the idea of saving their women, he began to drag me into shore. It would all have been good and I would have thanked him graciously on shore with a huge kiss and wooed at his saving abilities, however that was not the case. As I was being pulled in I was struggling to catch my footing and went head first into the crashing waves and could feel water rushing into every crevasse of my body, I was getting an enema in cracks that I never knew existed. When we slowed up a bit and he let go, I popped up from the water hurriedly. To my surprise, and the old man on the beach watching this transpire, I had popped up with no top on and half my bottoms. I was almost naked in front of the entire Outer Banks. I do not think I could duck into the water any faster and pull everything onto its proper place. After, I had to take the walk of shame back to shore and back to the house. The old man had a cheese-dick smile as I walked away towards the house. He sure got his entertainment for the afternoon, probably his life. The sad part, I never did get my shells out of the chaos.