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Baby Crazy and Boyfriend Mad

So basically I'm just posting here to state that I'm mad for my boyfriend, AlexK and desperately want more confirmation that we'll have a bright shiny future BUT of course I'm much more into that sort of thing because he's my (checks my chart) 12th relationship and I'm his 3rd so he's waaaaay behind on the learning curve in knowing WHAT HE WANTS (I should I hope I know this after 12 relationships and macking on 33 people) and a little more gun shy.  Because he knows relationships are a big scary thing and I don't even know if he's ever had his heart broken.

Which is a terrifying thought, because I've had mine broken several times and I firmly believe that EVERYONE should experience that ONCE, it makes you a real person, and I love him so much and he's just so weirdly perfect for me that if I'm just a stepping stone to a better relationship for him I might just die.

Also, I'm 21.  And Hispanic.  And so that pretty much means I want me some babies so frickin' bad.  Even my almost 20 years old sister is achin' for some baby and she's HORRIBLE at them and hates sticky infants.  I'm pretty much wired for BABIES, NOW.

So he's so perfect and wonderful and also was such a pretty little baby and will help me make pretty little babies and I want babies. :(

I MIGHT be ovulating.  oh dear.

but seriously.

this boy needs to put a ring on it and a baby in it.

Portrait of my Grandfather

My parents just posted one of the last photos taken of my deceased grandfather. He looks so old, I guess I always saw him through the lens of my younger self. A strong, older man who loved grammar and gardening. But that photo doesn't lie. He was frail, and elderly, not just old.

My grandmother, his wife, is starting to look the same. It's so sad.


- Posted from my iPhone when I really shouldn't be blogging, with Blogpress App.

Vulnerable

I burst into tears with frightening ease.  At least, to me.  It seems like the things that make me bawl my eyes out, the things that have me lying on the floor, on the stomach, with my cheek pressed against the cheap carpet, trying to melt into the floor while my lacrimal sacs empty themselves are silly, inconsequential, mediocre things.  I don't cry when people try and make me cry, it's like my skin absorbs their purposeful attacks and my brains whips it back at them.  But little tiny things that I don't expect, these things that take me by surprise have me broken up for an hour, two hours, a whole night.

For instance, my boyfriend told me off today for contacting him before he contacted me today, like he asked, because he was tired, sick, whatever.  Never mind it was 3pm and well after his standard no-calling ban (noon), and never mind I texted him because he had an appointment with an ISP that he might want to be conscious for.  He missed the appointment anyway, and he had been on the phone with them for a while, and I was irritated that he hadn't called me so I have left a message again on him voice mail at 6pm because, goddamnit, I wanted to talk to him.  I need him to talk to me.  I'm needy.
 
So when he scolded me for this, I got all stiff and towards the end of the phone call my voice got all quavery and then I called my mom and bawled me eyes out and asked her to talk me down from being SO ANGRY at him because I KNEW he needed sleep and I KNEW he loved me and I KNEW he didn't mean to make me cry but I needed someone else who thinks like I do to help me be confident in this.  My mom and I are both emotionally needy/high maintenance people.  We need to be told we're loved, appreciated, thought of all the goddamn time.  If you're not calling up when we think you should be, we'll contact you.  And call you.  And leave passive aggressive, irritated messages on your answering machine.  And eat a lot of crap while talking shit about you.  BECAUSE, DAMNIT IT, ALL WE ASK FOR IS A LITTLE VALIDATION.  WORDS ARE CHEAP, AND THAT'S ALL WE WANT FROM YOU. 

Instead, I felt worse than unvalidated.  I felt devalued.  I hurt, so I cried.  And this all started at 6:48pm and now it's nearly 8pm and I'm still whimpery.  I'm angry enough to hate.  I'm sad enough to feel shattered.  And I hate that he can do this to me.

New Year's Resolutions version 2012

Because I ALWAYS blog my New Year's Resolutions on my LJ, the basic idea of THIS YEAR'S MISSION TO BE A BETTER PERSON is to not be a depressive lonely shut in.  College has been bad for that.  And how I plan on accomplishing that is in these ways:  To care more, and try harder. 

To care more about:
  • My Appearance by getting into a hygiene and beauty regimen that I can stick to.  Mostly this included making sure I SHOWER EVERY NIGHT AND WASH MY FACE, CHEST AND BACK with acne cleanser and then moisturize, and then brush my teeth every night. And use conditioner on my hair.  I also have tentative plans to explore into a more complicated beauty regimen that involves these things called "hair styles" and also makeup.  Possible wardrobe update/tattoos to come.  I realize this makes me sound like a dirty cow BUT COME ON I BATTLE WITH CONSTANT LOW-GRADE DEPRESSION.  WHO CARES ABOUT HYGIENE WHEN STUCK IN CONSTANT EXISTENTIAL CRISES.
  • Schoolwork by not falling behind and doing my readings and not feeling crushed by other people's negative opinions about my ability to do X in school.  My parent's are the worst offenders in this. :/ Also, STUDY GROUPS YAY.
  • My home by CLEANING and ORGANIZING my room regularly and the rest when it's obviously gone awful.  Which means like, weekly cleaning binges on the rest of the apartment while I manage my personal chaos daily.  I still need a few organizational boxy things to free up space and open up my room a bit more, but for the most part I'm on track for that.  Also: Laundry.  I need to do it more often than once a week/every other week.
  • My personal relationships by NOT BEING A QUIET SHUT IN and communicating with my friends more frequently rather than wait for them to come to me.  Who am I, some sort of waif that needs rescuing? Please. 
To Try Harder at:
  • Exercise by utilizing the school gym.  I'm aiming for starting at once a week for an hour, then twice a week to three times a week but never dropping below once a week for an hour.  I can do my crunches any old time but I need cardio to kick my body into gear as far as fighting off the family proclivity towards type 2 diabetes and obesity.
  • A better diet by buying and eating fruits and vegetables and cutting down on my crackers/chips/cereal snack habit.  I also need to eat more protein, so that.  I'm looking into vegetarian one-pot meals so I can kill all the birds with one stone.  I have money now so this shouldn't be too hard.
  • Liking myself because duh.
I hope everyone is doing well this new new NEW year and have made manageable and fun goals.

Christmas and Boyfriend

I'm posting this from my Kindle Fire! I'm super happy to have it, it's absolutely awesome and cool and handy and it's run by ANDROID. So my rebellious nature is appeased(mine is an apple household).

My haul was pretty awesome this year, I got:
1) Pregnant anatomy model
2) Apples to Apples
3) Cthulu Gloom
4) Fantasia/Fantasia 2000
5) Aladdin
6) Matryoska doll measuring cups and spoons
7) Fred weird science equivalent measuring cup (500ml is half a human brain!)
8) KINDLE FIRE WOOP WOOP
9) 50$ amazon giftcard
10) Cutlery set
11) makeup brushes
12) MaryKay bronzer
13) Organic Vegan mineral foundation
14) hot sauce set
15) 3 cooking mama NDS games
16) game cases and stylus replacements for my NDS.

I'm super happy with it.

ALSO BTW MY BOYFRIEND IS AWESOME. just saying. Totally loving him. He's perfect.

Trailblazer!

I consistently make the first moves in my relationship with Alexk.  After a friend pointed us in the direction of each other's FB pages, I was the one who messaged him first.  I was the one who asked for his number and if he wanted to do lunch after the party we were introduced at.  I was the one who called first, texted first, planned the dates first.  I initiated our first kiss.  I was the one who set it up so I'd be at his place after he dropped off the face of the planet and decided that we should just "be friends" so I would, AT LEAST, have sex for the first time in like a year because goddamnit I was horny and it was all his fault since I had ZERO craving until he came on the scene.  I was the one who texted afterwards and asked for clarification on what we were.  I was the one who said "I love you" first, THE FIRST TIME.  I was the one who initiated the conversation about my saying it after it became weird.  I was the one who kept tabs on our calendars so we wouldn't go too long without seeing each other because I knew that was a death-knell for any relationship.  THE ONLY THING HE DID FIRST was break up with me, and contact me afterwards to ask if we could still be friends.  He also asked if we could hang out one day. 

I then manipulated it so I would be back at his place.  I hadn't decided if I wanted to have sex with him until it started snowing and I needed to spend the night because of it's blizzardiness.  He put some moves on me and I held off after I thought about it hard.  We watched a movie.  He put his arm around me.  I wanted him so bad.  We had sex. 

And then we had sex again after my first day of school/PT.  And then we took some time off because I was still just so into him and still really angry and I thought I'd be happy with another guy.  I wasn't, not really.  I wanted Alexk, but I also didn't want to tell him that.  We progressed through a no-strings arrangement that became more and more relationshippy until I, first, quipped about how we're practically in a relationship as it was.  Because I was no longer sleeping around (I needed to do that to keep the edge off how much I wanted him), because we spent so much time together.  Because we had each other's backs in emergencies.  Because we were talking openly about feelings and shit outside the context of a relationship.  Because we were communicating desires and fears.  Because we were fulfilling each other emotionally and mentally as well as physically.

I was the first one to initiate a conversation about "When do we start counting?" because the relationship grew so organically and I didn't want to count just from when we officially declared we were dating because 2 months seemed like such little time and we were far beyond any 2 month relationship thing and we really WERE, PRACTICALLY boyfriend/girlfriend for much longer than that. 

I was the first one to broach the idea of us living together.  He took it further in asking me if I'd like to move with him to another state in the summer, if it was doable. 

I was the first one to say "I Love You", first.  Again.  Except THIS TIME it wasn't weird.  This time the only meta conversation we had to have about it was why it took us so long to say it.  And as usual, the answer is "Alex gets frozen,  stuck in his head; Melody waits until she's 90% sure the answer is the one she wants to hear before she says anything."   And since the response was so weird the last time, I waited extra long, even though we BOTH probably should of said "I Love You" when he asked me to move to PA, but we're dumb young adults like that.  What am I gonna do. 

Though this pattern is moderately disheartening as it means I'm the one who will propose first, most likely.  I swear, if I have to do that, I'll kick him after he says yes.

THAT'S THE ONLY TIME I THINK I'D HATE BEING THE INITIATOR.

School and stuff.

I'm completely angsting about Alex in my paper-and-pen diary.  The conclusion drawn is that I'm ACTUALLY angsting about school but I feel powerless about school whereas my social life is something infinitely more manageable for me because I'm like a genius at people and so I'm picking at my insecurities so I can make them big and scarier that possibly being a mediocre student and future nurse and so it's WAY MORE IMPORTANT to take care of them and him and us and not, you know, study.  Bonus points because the solution to these problems would make me feel like a successful individual.  Unlike how my current academia is progressing.

My ways of coping with stress are bizarre and problematic.  DISSOCIATE! REPRESS! REDIRECT!

Next semester I need to A) Not be depressed B) Not be dyslexic (okay so I'm not diagnosed but it runs in my family and I portray so many of the symptomology I REALLY SHOULD get tested but also I have issues with getting diagnosed with anything because my mom would think/say I'm an attention getting lazy brat who wants excuses for my failures.  Quoted.) C) Not avoid uncomfortable things like studying.

Honestly this has been my worst semester since I started college. I haven't even gotten a C+ since I started, though a lot of people are telling not to freak out but I kind of am.  I'm freaking out.  Nursing is a screened major so honestly my only hope to counteract this awfulness is to ace the shit out of the TEAS so I look like some genius who kind of is awful at the day to day minutiae of college that seems utterly unimportant.  It worked for college and the SATs! I was an utterly mediocre student who got a 1920 on the SAT which is kind of awesome.  720 in reading comprehension, 680 in math and a 520 in writing.  I kind of suck at grammar and mechanics (dyslexia?) and it was a new section no one really cared about yet so I was looking like one of THOSE kids who were clever but not challenged.

Am I not challenged in my college courses?  I'm BORED.  They move slowly, most of them don't involve the students and when I leave I'm so unimpressed with the information I don't care to review it.  Boredom KILLS ME.  I don't do well if I can't interact with the teacher.  I wander off and do other things and when I come back to class to take an exam or quiz it looks like it.  Except I'm CLEVER. I am!  I do well on standardized tests, my writing apparently is all impressive and interesting and I'm fluent in political sciences and psychology and all those other things that indicate cleverness.  Except my grades.  My grades indicate a distinct lack of cleverness.  Which is a LIE.

I just loathe school.  The act of sitting down and being TOLD things instead of conversing and learning along the way.  I loathe notes and powerpoints and dry lectures with nary any interaction at all.  I want to be given examples and I want subject matter to jump around.  Don't give me this "A strong foundation" nonsense.  Start off with something REALLY COOL, and REALLY COMPLICATED and then go back to how this tiny inconsequential-looking thing is important. Give me charts to fill out and essay topics to contemplate.  Let me think critically about the class material and let me play with it so I can understand it better.  Have me solve logic problems or diagnose a case study.  Lecturing does nothing for my learning ability, and this lack of interaction does nothing for my desire to self-teach. 

So I'm sucking right now.  I need to figure out how to make these dry lectures and all this apathy into a way to motivate my self-teaching.  Otherwise I'm fucked.
I'm unapologetically non-theistic, possibly even atheistic depending on your definitions. I loathe organized religion, the dogma and covenants associated with any religion or philosophy that dictates that stringent commitment to Their One True Faith is the only way to honorable and lasting fulfillment. I find it obsessively oppressive.

However I fucking love their holidays. Dawali, Christmas, High Holidays, the ceremonies for naming, coming of age, marriage and death. They're goddamn beautiful and sociologically I have to give them props for their tangible affect in sourcing and strengthening a sense of community. Also, did I mention they're pretty?

AlexK, my boyfriend, is Christian. As you well know if you've obsessively been reading my blog. This has caused some problems but it's also been a source of amusement during holiday seasons. He's a Scrooge. He even loathes his own birthday. There was too much fighting between his parents, apparently, during holiday seasons and his little brother was one of THOSE types who hated giving up any attention for someone else.

Whereas MY Christmases and Easters and Birthdays have been mostly awesome (I'm less thrilled with birthdays as I approach Real!Adulthood! and feel disappointed with myself and accomplishments and time goes on) and I love the pomp and circumstance of planning the meals and the decorations and the games. The desserts associated and the colors and lights and STREAMERS. I love garlands and streamers!

I was sighing over not decorating my apartment for Christmas because my roommate isn't the neatest and a dirty messy living room detracts from the prettiness of a tree and lights and garlands. Also I'm broke. But I'd try harder if I could enjoy the end product.

And he was so "Why would you want to decorate!?" and "Why do you like Christmas when you hate religion!?" and "WHY DO YOU HAVE CHRISTMAS SPIRIT!?" when I was giddy over lights and trees peeking out of windows and the decorations up in stores.

My little nontheistic heart takes solace in the fact that wintertime is potentially full of holidays that all have similar symbols and mean similar things. A celebration of surviving the beginning of winter, a way to boost spirits for the remainder, a reminder that the days are starting to get longer after the winter solstice. A time to remember the importance of family, and a time to toast life and the luxuries we do have. I love that. I LOVE the importance that religions place on family. I disapprove of their restrictive judgmental definition of family, but community is still a THING and it's still important no matter how you define it. And I will take part in all ceremonies that celebrate it. I just will strip YHWH or Jesus or Allah or the Hindu pantheon or saints or any god or goddess from it because the idea of an anthropomorphic being that is self aware and all-powerful ruling over us, that created us is laughable and silly to me.

Though part of me believes in fae still so I shouldn't judge as loudly as I do but I'm a horrible human being so what are we gonna do.


- Posted from my iPhone when I really shouldn't be blogging, with Blogpress App.

Worst Student Ever

This has seriously been my worst semester yet. I've skipped soooo mannnyyyy classes because my teachers don't give a fuck and neither do I, and my grades MAY be reflecting that. I'm skipping my 8AM, however, to study for 2 exams I have today that I am seriously under-prepared for. One of which is the lab practical FOR that 8AM. I NEED at least a 75% to maintain my passing grade in lab so I DON'T have to retake the damn thing and I can go on with my life. Anatomy and physiology sucks balls, for how interesting it is. I'm looking forward to A&PII. I hear it's moderately easier.

The other is Chem 106, which is cram-able. It's just A&PI is NOT and I don't have my Origins and insertions of muscles down. Is tragedy.

Welp, back to the fray.


- Posted from my iPhone when I really shouldn't be blogging, with Blogpress App.
I'm 21! I have been for a couple weeks now, and I have appropriately drank until sickness so I've done my duty as birthday girl. However, birthdays make me sad. I hate getting older now and not having anything to show for it. I'm not even a semester away from graduating with my bachelors degree, because I switched majors in the eleventh hour. I'm 152lbs, and I'm not fit and yes I live on my own, but I don't have a job and I'm scrambling until February with 600 dollars in the bank. I'm no where on track to where I thought I'd be in the few times I allowed myself to think beyond high school.

You see, for the LONGEST time I thought I would be dead by 15. 17, at the absolute latest. This is due to a prophetic moment at 5 when I saw a "prom" on TV and thought "that won't ever be me."

That shocked me, and being 5 and not even considering the possibility of future me being anything but popular and wanted, I assumed the only logical reason I wouldn't go to prom is because I was dead or dying. It seemed like a big deal! Everyone went! Even the "losers" who I knew were the REAL cool kids went to PROM.

And for a while that seemed the case. I went through some awful shit between the ages of 8 & 11, and if it wasn't cancer or a car crash, I'd die by my own hands. I went through high school drifting, attempting suicide when pushed to my limits but never succeeding because I didn't do my research and was always 5-10 pills off from a lethal dose. Got high as fuck though.

Now I'm 21, 16 years from my assumption I'd miss prom because I was dead, 6 years from my first suicide attempt and nearly 3 years from my last. I didn't go to senior prom because my best friend who had graduated a year before wasn't approved for tickets. Junior prom was bagged because the boy I obsessively was in love with thought I hated him and also thought he needed to be a lone wolf in his life as the eldest child of a codependent alcoholic pill-popping failure of a mother. I refused to go by myself due to a miserable time at homecoming that same year going by myself, and had no one else to ask, to ask me.

5 y/o me was right, but for the wrong reasons. And I spent many years not planning because I thought there was nothing to plan for. I have no idea what to do with my life.

I'm in school, yeah. Because I wasn't given the option to do anything else. Art as a career became more and more a bad idea as I progressed, so now I'm a pre-nursing major (it's a screened major so before I get in, I have to do well with the prereqs) who is barely qualifying and obviously sucks at studying because I never really tried before. I was going to die! Why waste energy at school? I just did enough to not get noticed so no one would try and redirect fate!

I wish I HAD been noticed. Been put in therapy and on Prozac (the only antidepressant approved for children and teens) and told I was wrong! Maybe then I'd not be flailing so much.

But this is a part of life. The flailing. I'm not so much a type A or type B as I am the type who never learned which type she was, due to extenuating circumstances. I suspect I'm A. I just need to remember I'm going to live. That I will live. That I have a future to plan for. Then maybe I can succeed at it, instead of muddling along, waiting for the end of it. I can accomplish a lot in the 80 years I inevitably have left. I just have to remember it's 80 years, and not 8 months.

That is such a huge change in my mode of thinking I don't know when I can expect it to replace the current one. The one where I'm on borrowed time. The one where I'm 6 years overdue and eventually I'll just drop dead. Because 5 year old Melody was wrong. She won't die at 15, or 17. Probably not even in her 20s either. She's got a long life ahead of her, and she was too smart, too talented to coast like she did.

So now I can't either.

(being 14 sucked because I was a freshman in HS, had a year left, in my head, and was just so stressful because of all the FEELINGS compounded by the HORMONES I'm legit surprised I never cracked harder than I did)

- Posted from my iPhone when I really shouldn't be blogging, with Blogpress App.

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