It's my birthday

And I'll blog if I want to.

I'm 22 today. I miss my mom everyday, but especially today. I don't have a relationship with my father, and now that she's gone...it's like the whole reason I'm here is because of those people bringing me into the world 22 years ago. Back then they had no idea that they would break up, that my dad would devolve into alcoholism, that my mom would die when I was 18.

I've had 22 years of sadness and heartbreak, but also 22 years of happy times and precious memories. I won't take for granted that I will make it through another 22 years; I've learned better than that. But I hope that I will. I hope that someday in the future I can look back at the current me and marvel at how far I have come.

Most of all I hope that my mom is somewhere looking down on me today, and smiling.

Baby, it's cold outside

It snowed this morning. Just flurries, but still. Snow in October, specifically the day before my birthday, is something that I have never witnessed. The year I was born it was so hot that my sister and my dad went swimming. 22 years later, it's snowing. I hope that this is indicative of a cold, wet winter, because we haven't had a good, substantial snowfall in years. A white Christmas (or at least a white Christmas break) would be perfect.

7 days to the election. It's unbelievable. Polls look good in favor of Obama; I just hope the voting results are as good. I will get no sleep at all on election night. I don't know how I will drag my ass to class the next day, but I suppose when Obama wins I'll just be giddy enough to do it. I refuse to talk about him losing. If that happens, I'm moving to Canada. I did just talk about my hopes for a white winter...

Too tired to think of a title

I am very, very tired. I've been up since six, had my commute extended by thirty minutes because of road construction that made traffic grind to a halt, went to class, fought the freakishly strong wind, did a bunch of reading for class, watched Gossip Girl and Heroes, and now I just want to go to bed. But my roommate just informed me that she's staying up late tonight because she doesn't have class tomorrow. Which, whatever. I can fall asleep with the light on, and she's fairly quiet. But I hope she realizes I'm still going to be up early tomorrow because I do have class.

My birthday is Wednesday. Saturday I went out to eat in celebration, and it was fun. But I have no plans for my actual birthday. I'm going to be 22, which has no real meaning for me. Last year's birthday was all about getting to drink, but 22 is just another number. Meh. Halloween is Friday and I'm probably going to freeze my ass off in my Dorothy costume. On the bright side, there will be candy.

I wish I were at home, curled up in bed, in the dark, nice and warm, and not having to worry about LAND thumping around or talking at the top of their lungs at one in the morning and waking me up. But instead I'm stuck here, where I will curl up in bed with the light shining down in my eyes, listening to my roommate clicking away at the computer, and hoping that exhaustion will set in and I will fall asleep. Wish me luck.

More SVH--Nightmare in Death Valley

Previously: Jessica, Elizabeth, Todd, Ken, Bruce, and Heather were all chosen to camp out in Death Valley because they wrote fabulous essays. This book claims that the teens were chosen because they are all student leaders. That actually makes a lot more sense than the essay contest, but it's still a continuity error, so FAIL, ghostwriter. Epic fail. Also, our group was about to be killed either by the deadly storm they were trapped in or by those pesky convicts Heather kept mentioning.

In the middle of a massive downpour...
SAINT LIZ: We're going to die! AHH!!
(the rain stops)
SAINT LIZ: Wow, that was a close one.

The next day...
SAINT LIZ: Heather can barely walk, we're low on food and water, and we must make it back to civilization. Let's leave Heather here.
HEATHER: What??
JESSICA: Yes!
KEN: We can't leave Heather alone. I'll stay with her.
JESSICA: Oh no no no, I'll stay with Heather. You guys go on without us, ta ta now!

Later...
SAINT LIZ: There's a fork in the trail. We can take the higher path and spend all of our time climbing, or we can take the lower path. We need to take the higher path.
KEN: Clearly.
TODD AND BRUCE: Um, no.

They break up in pairs, Todd and Bruce going down (dirty!) and Liz and Ken going up.
SAINT LIZ: Oh, Ken, you're so handsome. Remember all those special times we had together when I was cheating on Todd? Want to do it again?
KEN: I thought you were in love with him.
SAINT LIZ: That rule only applies when I can see him.
KEN: Still, I'm dating your sister now. Let's just snuggle in our sleeping bags, okay?

Meanwhile, Bruce and Todd do some really boring shit, and Jessica and Heather hang out.
HEATHER (thinking to herself): Jess is so pretty. And she's a great cheerleader. I'm really kind of jealous of her and wish we could be friends.
ME: Oh, of course the one character who hates Jessica is secretly admiring of her. OF COURSE. (the girls fall asleep, but Jess wakes up in the middle of the night)
JESSICA (thinking to herself): Oh my effing God it's the convicts. Heather was right.
HEATHER (waking up): Hey, what's going on...AHHH!!! CONVICTS!!!
(the convicts tie the girls up)

The next day, Todd leads Bruce back to Ken and Liz because he misses her. Yawn.
Also, Liz is about to fall off of the mountain that she insisted she climb up.
SAINT LIZ: My life is flashing before my eyes! All those years of being sixteen!
BRUCE (somehow winding up above Liz, hears her screams): Hang on Liz! I'll save you! But only one handed, because the other hand is holding my bag of gold!
SAINT LIZ: HELP ME, YOU FOOL!
(Bruce drops the gold)_
SAINT LIZ: Hey, what's that noise?
(a giant eagle tries to attack Bruce to get his gold)
ME: Are you shitting me? This book sucks ASS.

Ken, Liz, Todd and Bruce find Jess and Heather. They rescue them from the convicts (an easy task considering how deeply stupid they are) and even befriend one of the convicts, Jack. This is all incredibly dumb.
SAINT LIZ: Now we can finally hike home!
JESSICA: Yay! Do you think it will take very long--
(she stops talking because suddenly they realize they are fifty yards from a gas station.)
ME: *headdesk*

La la la, they get home, discover the gold they had wasn't even real, and that the diary that Liz found was a fake (they say it was from a theater group who just left it in the desert. Um, okay). The real point about the book is that for years I only had part one, which I rather enjoyed, so I was thrilled when I got my hands on this book. And then I read it and realized what a piece of shit it is. Clearly some things are better left to my imagination.

How I know I'm an awesome aunt

My nephew is two, and he's the apple of my eye. I have the best time with him, chasing him around the house, tickling him, listening to him laugh. I can't imagine life without him. I like to think I'm a pretty great aunt; Nathan seems to light up when he sees me. But I knew for certain I was doing my job as an aunt when my sister emailed me a few weeks ago and said this: "Nathan and I were watching the news this morning, and suddenly he started yelling 'Look Mommy, Barack Obama! Go Obama!' I knew you would be thrilled."

I was. I have made a point to tell Nathan about things that are going on around us. He likes to look through magazines with me, so when I got my copy of People with the Obama family on it, I told him all about Barack. Clearly it sunk in. The next week after that email, my sister called and told me that on the way home from daycare Nathan had yelled out, "We don't like Sarah Palin!" The child is two years old and can already point out prominent political figures. That makes him better than much of America.

I have also instilled Nathan with an appreciation for sports. I'm by far the biggest sports fan in the house. College basketball is my favorite; when I was even younger than Nathan my father would sit me in front of the tv and talk to me about Carolina basketball games. Since Nathan was born I have made sure that he has had Carolina Tar Heel outfits. Now that he can talk, I have taught him to say "Go Tar Heels!" And today my sister told me that Nathan has fallen in love with his Carolina pull-over and doesn't want to take it off.

Football is my second favorite sport, so Nathan likes to watch Panthers games with me. When they take commercial breaks on FOX they have a robot football player who dances around, and Nathan gets so excited when he sees him.

I like knowing that I'm an influential part of Nathan's life. As I said, the whole reason I am a Tar Heel fan is because of my dad, and no matter what bad blood exists between the two of us now, that connection will always be there. Someday Nathan will be able to say that he's a Tar Heel fan because of his Aunt Laura, and that's pretty special.

Hates His Wife

Just a minute away from my house and one street over, there is a row of ordinary houses. They're older homes, ranch style, nothing particularly special. But when we moved in three years ago, we noticed that one man was always sitting in his garage. He's an older man with white hair, and he's typically shirtless (although as we get further into Fall, he'll probably throw on a t-shirt). He sits in his garage staring out at traffic, with his grill by his side. My sister, her husband and I started to speculate as to why this guy was in his garage all of the time. I believe it was Stephen who suggested it was because he hates his wife; he goes outside to get away from her.

Thus, Hates His Wife was born. We've seen his wife occasionally, usually when his grandkids are there, but not too often. Mostly it's just him and his grill. We wonder what all he cooks on that thing--is he just a steak man, or does he mix it up with some grilled chicken? We've driven by his house so many times staring out the window at him that he will now throw up a hand when he sees us. We worry about him when we don't see him. A road expansion is being planned which means Hates His Wife will probably have to sell his house to the state. I don't know where he'll move to, but I do know that we will miss him.

Feeling blue

Last Friday I took two midterm exams. I haven't gotten either exam back yet, but one of my teachers posted the grades online. I made a 73 on my American Lit exam.

I can't imagine what I did that was so wrong that I made such a low grade. I thought I would make a solid B. I studied for this test, wrote pages of notes, came up with stupid rhymes to remember the publication dates, and all I got was 73. I'm extremely disappointed in myself.

If I hadn't tried, I could write this off as me just being careless. But I prepared myself for this test, and still did absolutely shitty. My mom always used to say it didn't matter what my grades were as long as I was trying. I wish she were here to tell me that now.

I'm trying not to freak out. I still have a big research paper due, which I will pour my heart and soul into in order to bring up my grade. And I guess I'll have to prepare even harder for my final exam. But this still stings. I know nobody knows my grades except for me and my teacher, but I'll still feel really embarrassed sitting in class tomorrow, knowing that I suck so hard.

In high school I was always the girl who got straight As. Doing so poorly is a new and uncomfortable feeling for me. I feel like I'm letting myself down as well as my family. I really, really just want to make this right.

Sweet Valley High makes me crazy

Yesterday when I was at home for Fall Break, I was rereading an old Sweet Valley High book, because I'm cool like that. There are a lot of SVH recapping sites out there (I need to add them to my links at the left) but I decided to do my own spoof. This is for #115 The Treasure of Death Valley.

We start with six people heading in a bus to hike for four days through Death Valley. Jessica and Ken (dating), Elizabeth and Todd (still together, throughout all of Liz's cheating), and Bruce and Heather (our villains, who are surprisingly not a couple) were all chosen to participate because of the essays they wrote (ha! Liz, Todd, and Ken I can buy, but the other three? yeah right). They are dropped off in the desert and told they are being assigned a buddy, with which they must work with at all times. The buddies are these: Jess and Todd, Liz and Bruce, and Heather and Ken.

JESSICA: God, I hate Heather! Ken should be my buddy!
HEATHER (to Ken): Hey hey you you I don't like your girlfriend...
KEN: Relax, Jess. I would never cheat on you. YOU cheat on ME in a few books, remember?
TODD (to Liz): I wish you weren't paired with Bruce. You fooled around with him when you cheated on me for the 5000th time.
SAINT LIZ: I'm totally not listening to you. Since when have I cared about your feelings? Okay, I've appointed myself navigator of this group! Let's go!

Later...
BRUCE: Bitch bitch moan moan ooh a mine shaft!
SAINT LIZ: Bruce! Those are dangerous! You can't go in there!
(Bruce goes in there)
SAINT LIZ: I must follow him because of the buddy system!
TODD: I have to save Liz!
JESSICA: If Elizabeth dies, then whose identity will I steal? I'll come with you Todd!
KEN and HEATHER: Whatever, let's go pick flowers.
(Bruce, Liz, Jess and Todd emerge)
SAINT LIZ: Look at this bag I found. There's a diary in here about people that were conveniently in the same situation as we are now!
BRUCE: Bish plz, who cares about the diary? There's gold in here!
SAINT LIZ: The diary says we'll be cursed if we don't bury half the gold here. Let's do it.
JESSICA: Are you crazy??? It's gold.
SAINT LIZ: But the diary says-
JESSICA: GOLD
BRUCE: Hey, here's a map locating other gold mines! Let's follow it instead of our own map.
SAINT LIZ: But that's not safe! We only have four days to make it through the desert!
JESSICA: GOLD!
KANYE: I ain't saying she a gold digger...

Later...
HEATHER: I brought a tv with me, because I am a complete twit, and there are convicts on the loose in the desert!
JESSICA: This desert is huge, there are no convicts near us, now shut up.
HEATHER: Oh, I am so stealing your boyfriend now.
(Heather slides closer to Ken)
JESSICA: Oh yeah? Well, I'll just go flirt with Bruce.
BRUCE: Works for me.

Next morning...
HEATHER: I think the convicts were here! OMG!
EVERYONE ELSE: Shut up.
TODD: Hey, I'm going to be the navigator today even though I am totally incompetent.
JESSICA: Here, Todd, let me help. We need to go this way.
(Jess points Todd in the direction of more gold)
SAINT LIZ: Something is going on here! We're going the wrong way. Jess, you're leading us to gold, aren't you? I can't believe you would do this to us!
ME: Wow, you need to reread the last 100 books.

Later...
(The gang approaches a river they need to cross)
KEN: Okay, we'll make a chain. Heather will be next to me.
JESSICA: Oh, hells no.
(Jess pushes Heather aside. Heather loses her backpack)
HEATHER (points at Jessica): This is all your fault!
JESSICA: Boo, you whore.
KEN: I can't believe you're being so childish, Jessica. You're not the girl I thought you were.
ME: Again, you people seriously need to read your own books.

Next day...
HEATHER: Here's bunch of boulders we need to cross. I'm just going to do cheerleader jumps across them.
SAINT LIZ: Heather, that's not safe!
HEATHER: Hey guys, watch this!
(Heather goes splat)
HEATHER: Oh, my ankle!
JESSICA: HA HA HA!
KEN, BRUCE, and TODD: Heather, you're in such pain. Let us carry you around and protect you.
SAINT LIZ and JESSICA: The attention is off of the Wakefield twins. Heather must die.

Later...
HEATHER: My ankle hurts so bad! Thanks for carrying me Ken.
KEN: Of course, Heather. But I'm getting tired. Let's take a break.
(storm clouds roll in)
SAINT LIZ: We're lost in the middle of the desert and now we're in the middle of a torrential rain storm!
EVERYONE: This is your fault Jessica!
JESSICA: Whatevs.
HEATHER: Even if this rain doesn't drown us, the convicts will get us!
EVERYONE: Shut up.

To be continued...

Fall break, here I come

I have next Monday and Tuesday off for Fall Break, which is amazing. I plan on spending those days curled up in bed with a cup of coffee and a remote control in my hand. Unfortunately, I still have to get through the rest of today and tomorrow morning before I am officially on break. I have two mid-terms tomorrow. The one I am most concerned about is American Literature, because we have covered SO many authors, and we have to remember publication dates, and quotes, and those things could easily get mixed up in my mind. I studied all morning and I kind of wish I could go take the test NOW, but of course I have to wait until the morning.

I really should be studying some more, but I'm not feeling the patience for it right now. I'm promising myself that I will study tonight before my evening gets taken over by Ugly Betty and The Office. How awesome is The Office? Jim and Pam make me squeal like a little girl, they are so adorable. And Michael needs to get with Holly, because as Jim says, Holly is kind of a dork and is therefore made for Michael. Except I heard that the actress was only going to be around for a few episodes, but they really should make her a regular; I like her so much better than Toby. He's just so sad and pathetic with his lame crush on Pam that I can't find him funny. And wow, I have digressed.

When I come back to school on Wednesday, it will be October 15th. That is halfway through October, and that is crazy. This semester feels like it's flying by. The end of October means my birthday and Halloween, then before I know it I'll be on Thanksgiving break, and then I'll be preparing for finals (and Christmas shopping). Craziness.

In 24 hours I'll be home! I can't wait.

Yes We Can

My grandfather is in his eighties. He's lived through WWII, Vietnam, the Civil Rights Movement, the assassination of JFK, and 9/11. I've never really talked about those things with him, all those historical events he's witnessed. Mostly we talk about his health, my classes, his garden, the people in the community. My grandpa is one of the sweetest men you will ever meet, and our conversations are equally sweet, comforting, familiar.

My mother was born in 1951, and she too lived through milestones in history. She would tell me how when she was a little girl and would go shopping with my grandma, she would see water fountains marked "colored." She knew about racism; she lived in a very conservative town in North Carolina, of course she saw it every day. My mother was a teacher, and she taught her students (of which I was one) the importance of being respectful, dignified, tolerant. She was the image of grace.

Now in 2008 there is less than a month until the election in which Barack Obama is poised to become the first African-American president. I am thrilled that I have had the opportunity to be a part of history, to contribute to Obama's campaign, to support him to the finish line. I wish my mother could be here with me to watch this in motion. Even though I mourn the fact that she is not here, I am extremely grateful that my grandpa is. He's lived through all the racism of the south and can now go to the polls on November 4th and cast his vote for a black man.

He is most definitely supporting Obama. My grandpa has always been a staunch Democrat, but I know that he's supporting Obama for the strength of his character and not just his party affiliation. He actually opened up and discussed the election the other day, and I was so excited to hear him talk about Obama, and how much he believes in him. I know the polls say that mostly younger people such as myself are the ones who are going to vote for Obama, but I am pleased to say that my grandpa is too. Together we will vote and change history.

Yes we can.

22 days until I'm 22

My birthday is October 29th, and I'll be turning 22. I don't have any big plans for my birthday, only that I hope it certainly turns out better than my 20th birthday. That was the birthday from hell, the birthday that will go down in infamy.

It started out innocently enough. My birthday was a Sunday, so on Saturday I was taken out to eat, had a a great dinner at an Italian restaurant, had cake and presents, etc. On my actual birthday, my sister cooked a big lunch for me, and for dinner I had the leftovers from the Italian place. Everything was fine until I went to bed that evening. I suddenly began to feel sick to my stomach. Part of my dinner had been leftover cheese sticks, which had been coated very heavily in herbs. As I was trying to go to bed, I could not get the taste of those cheese sticks out of my mouth. My stomach was rolling, and I kept revisiting those cheese sticks in my head, and the next thing I knew I was in the bathroom on my knees vomiting.

Around the same time on the other side of my house, my brother-in-law was getting sick too. My sister had come to check on me after hearing me in the bathroom, and told me that Stephen was throwing up. I told Alli that I though I would be fine, that it was just my supper not settling well in my stomach. I seriously thought I was all better. I was wrong.

The rest of the night passed in a haze, as I tried to go to sleep but couldn't for my stomach pains. I remember losing count of how many times I had thrown up, and sitting on my bed with a trash can next to me because I couldn't make it to the bathroom. Stephen was throwing up so much that he called his parents to come take him to the hospital, leaving my sister to stay home to take care of me and my nephew. Alli eventually got sick as well, but she wasn't throwing up--she was running to the bathroom with other issues.

The next day my aunt, God bless her, came to take care of us. I did absolutely nothing but lay in the bed and try to sleep, drinking nothing but Gatorade. On Halloween, I was feeling better but still wasn't one hundred percent. It was the first Halloween of my life that I haven't wanted to eat candy. Not only did I not have candy, but I couldn't even eat any more of my birthday cake, which was disappointing, because it had been damn good.

To this day we're still not sure what made us all sick. We're thinking something may have been wrong with the meat that my sister cooked for lunch, because otherwise how could we have all gotten sick at the same time? I really don't think my leftovers were tainted even though they were all I could think about as I was vomiting; because of this, I have refused to eat at the Italian restaurant since that day.

My 21st birthday was miles above my barfy 20th; let's hope the streak continues to my 22nd, because I really don't want to end the night with my head in the toilet.

Gotta love dorm life

For the most part, I enjoy my dorm. It's one of the smaller ones on campus, and is generally fairly quiet. Plus, I have beautiful views outside my window. My roommate and I get along, and we're both fairly quiet people who give each other space, which is perfect. The only thing I hate is that I have to share a bathroom with two other girls, who I have deemed the Loud Assholes Next Door (LAND).

During the day I can put up with LAND. Yes, it's annoying when I hear them talking extremely loudly in the bathroom (sometimes about their drug usage, for which they're lucky I haven't reported them), or when their hair dryers blast on four times a day (they seriously wash their hair all the damn time). But last night at approximately 12:30 they began absolutely blaring music in their room. My roommate and I were both in bed; I was still awake, but I think she might have been asleep--either way, I heard her sit up and say "What the fuck?"

My roommate, bless her heart, got out of bed and went through the bathroom to tell our neighbors to please turn the music down, that we were trying to sleep. I'm grateful she was the one who talked to them, because I am not at my best when I'm trying to go to sleep, and I already can't stand these bitches, so most likely I would have pissed them off. The music was lowered slightly, but not enough to prevent us from hearing a heavy bass thumping coming through the walls. My roommate once again asked them to please, for the love of all that is holy, turn the music down. This finally got through to them, and the music ceased.

Unfortunately for me, I was now wide awake and pissed off and couldn't go to sleep for a little while. I think I drifted off around 1:30. LAND better hope they don't pull that shit again tonight, because I can't handle two nights of not enough sleep in a row.

Wax on, wax off

I got my eyebrows waxed for the first time recently. My eyebrows have always been extremely thick, and my attempts at plucking them have been sporadic, at best. It just takes way too damn long, plus it's painful and my eyes start to water. I've always just accepted my bushy brows.

But the lady who cuts my hair also waxes eyebrows, and so I finally decided to bite the bullet and have it done. I trust her, so I didn't think she would butcher my brows. The wax felt really good going on, all warm and soothing. And then she ripped the wax off.

It didn't hurt so badly, really. My brows look fabulous, so it was well worth any momentary pain. The only problem is that it's only been a little over a week since my waxing, and I'm already seeing the hairs growing back. Is this normal? I don't know. But I do know I will continue to have my eyebrows waxed, because I am so pleased with how they turned out.

I will not, however, let wax come near any other part of my body, because that's just crazy talk.