Monthly Archives: March 2013

Why is it that when I have assignments due, I would rather do anything else?

I’m sitting here on my bed, waiting for my chicken tenders to cook and effectively procrastinating once more. Rather than working on my paper, I’m here blogging. Not only that, I’m thinking about what to pack for this upcoming weekend’s trip to Pennsylvania, considering whether or not I should clean before I leave (I really shouldn’t, there’s no point), and every so often glancing in the mirror to remind myself that I need to do my make up before class.

Sometimes I wonder if I have A.D.D.

Sometimes I think maybe it’s just an overall laziness.

Who knows? But at the beginning of the semester I was on top of everything. Now I’m beginning to get senioritis… at the end of my sophomore year. No bueno.

Lesson for the Day: The faster you get it done, the sooner you can forget about it.


That awkward moment when you text your best friend you’ve known since 3rd grade that you’ve always kinda sorta had a little thing for and recently had a kinda sorta fling with and it turns out he gave his phone to his baby mama’s little brother who refers to himself as his “soon to be brother in law”.


Yeah, that awkward moment. Cool.

He was my elementary school crush. I moved from PA to NC after 5th grade, in 7th or 8th grade we magically reconnected via the wonderful world of Myspace. By magically, I of course mean that I stalked him down like the creep ass I am. We kept in touch all through high school, he was my go to for guy advice and I was his go to drunk dial. It was a great friendship. Over the years, we always flirted a little. At some point we realized we had both liked each other back in elementary school. It was totes adorbz. Then as our friendship grew, we made plans to meet up when I went to visit my family. We had fun, he made me laugh, we continued to be great friends. Then one day, he told me he got his girlfriend pregnant. Oops, too bad for him, I thought. But we still never lost touch completely.

Once the baby was born, my awkwardness kept me away. I knew his then girlfriend wasn’t a huge fan of me since we had kept in touch for so long, and his drunk texts weren’t exactly innocent, so I was anxious at the thought of meeting her. Also, I always feel a sort of pressure meeting people’s kids. So being the awkward person I am, I avoided the situation for a solid two years. Finally this past October, I made plans to see my long lost pal again. I invited him to come spend a few hours at my grandpa’s cabin. Little did I know what was to come…

My deepest shame is this… I got black out drunk. At my grandpa’s cabin. In my mom’s presence.

Bacardi 151: a one way ticket to the toilet, the hospital, or your deathbed. The majority of people won't even smell it, let alone drink i

Bacardi 151: a one way ticket to the toilet, the hospital, or your deathbed. The majority of people won’t even smell it, let alone drink i

But before all that, I had quality talks with my friend. We never ran out of things to talk about. We drank light beer. Then we found Bacardi 151 and peer pressured my cousin into joining in on the fun. Fast forward a bit, my uncle walks in on my friend and I kissing in the kitchen. Soon after, I’m puking my life out in the bathroom, apparently not letting anyone in. Later, my friend is patting my back telling my mom he’s “got it” as she warily eyes him up. The next morning he takes his time leaving and we make a few jokes about him coming to visit me at school. Did I think this would ever happen? No way in hell.

Surprise surprise, I leave PA and start getting texts about how he misses me, and how he doesn’t feel things, so why does he feel things, and he’s not supposed to like me. I’m taken aback. Next thing I know, we are planning a weekend for him to come visit. The biggest shock, he actually calls off work and actually makes it down to see me. 3 AM when I went to let him in, I was in shock that he had actually driven 7 hours to spend a few days with me. Still, we never ran out of things to talk about. A mixture of serious conversation and hilarious stories, it was perfect. He was so many things I did not expect. He was sweet, he was cuddly, and when he left, he told me he wished he could live in my mountain town, he told me he would miss me, he told me I was different.

A week later I saw him while in PA for Thanksgiving. No talks of emotions and that was fine. That was expected. And yet the texts continued to say otherwise.

Then out of nowhere, he disappeared. It went from texting every day to barely a response once a week. The mother of his child had accused him of coming to see me, and he asked me to lie for him. So I did. Just like that, this whole fantasy world I had built for myself was gone.

Now a few months later, we are back to our old routine. He tells me about the girls he wants to fuck. I pretend not to care. We act like dicks to each other, everything is fine. Then last night I got a SnapChat from him. It was a young boy flicking me off. Weird. So I ask who was that? I get a text back, “Who is this?” Before long I get the reply that it is his “soon to be brother in law”, he gave him his old phone and got a new number. So basically, 9 years of friendship down the drain unless he gets his Facebook back or decides to ask his “soon to be brother in law” for my number.

Lesson for the Day: Don’t trust a ho.

Words to live by.

Words to live by.

Last weekend, I came home to find my family in shambles once again, only this time there was an air of finality. A feeling that this could be the real deal for once in my life. In a sad way, it was almost refreshing. I’ve been on an emotional roller coaster watching my parent’s marriage go up and down since I was seven years old. Thirteen years later, all I want is to get off the ride. Divorce isn’t pretty. Divorce isn’t ideal. Divorce is not what I want for my family. But sometimes I fear it is the only option for my family. How could divorce break us anymore when we are already so broken now? The only thing I know is this, my brother deserves better than the roller coaster I was forced to endure during my years at home. The ups and downs, emotional mood swings, and drama put so much unnecessary stress on a kid.

Saturday was awful. I broke the months of peace between my dad and I, put all my faith in Rae, who thankfully answered my call, and then drove off into the night to clear my head. The next morning, I barely even said goodbye to my dad before I headed back to school. I was over the drama, I still am.

But here’s what he doesn’t see. He thinks I hate him, that I don’t respect him, that I never want to be around him. The truth is I love him dearly. Our relationship was broken years ago, and it will take years to mend. Having a parent who is not only bipolar but is also an alcoholic isn’t easy. They don’t always see how they hurt those around them. How the substances influence them. My heart breaks for him every day. I want him to be happy more than anything, but he won’t allow himself happiness. Any chance he gets, he finds a way to cut it off. I hope someday he finds peace. I hope someday he realizes he deserves love too. And that he finally accepts it.

I don’t know what to do. I want my parents to be happy. I want them to be together. I know that a divorce would kill a little part of both of them. And yet, that seems like the only feasible option at this point. But I guess the truth is, I don’t have to know what to do. It’s not my decision. I just hope that after the weekend my brother and I endured, some serious changes are made in one direction or another. We can’t live in limbo forever.

Lesson for the Day: Learn the Serenity Prayer. Live by it.