So I've been bringing the same pudding cup to lunch for the past couple of days and it never ends up eaten. It just sits on the bottom of my lunch bag all forlorn and stares up at me guiltily. It's rolled around in my bag so often now that the dark chocolate portion and the light chocolate portion has mixed up into this marble-colored mixture.  This happened with a piece of cheese I brought to lunch a couple weeks ago too. I'd always get to it last and was always too full to eat it. So I'd bring it to class the next day and the whole thing would repeat itself. It always bothered me, how I could never finish that piece of cheese so I finally ate it. I think it's my whole upbringing where we have to eat everything on our plate - you know, not be wasteful, that whole bit.

Anyways. There is a point to all of this I promise. Basically because I eat more than I should, I have become more loose and jiggly than I should be or am used to. I noticed the difference during my negotiations competition today when I put on my suit set and the pants that previously fit fine felt most definitely too snug - I sat through that entire 45 minute period contemplating the most unobtrusive way to pick my wedgie that was quickly developing and threatening to cut off circulation to my leg.

- ahem -

So Yes. I think I'm going to start weight training next week. That or stop eating. But since the latter is a prerequisite (or a requirement) for anorexia, that probably isn't the best of ideas.

I lost a childhood friend of mine today.

Even now, I can barely type these words out as it would mean that I would finally have to admit to myself that it's true. Part of me still hopes, and possibly believes that this is all just a sick joke, a nightmarish daydream that I'll be able to pinch myself awake from.

But it's not. And each time I see her beautiful smiling face on facebook, a fresh wave of hurt comes over me as I remind myself that no, I'm never going to see her again.

As I think back to all the things that we shared together, I'm trying frantically now to somehow piece together all the memories we've had together so that somehow, in my mind, she'll continue to be more than just a memory.

There are so many things I remember doing together with her. I remember how I first met her, amidst tragedy, some 18 years ago. I remember the birthday parties, the family gatherings, and singing at her house. I remember playing monopoly and mario and eating her mother's fabulous multi-layered jello. I remember how she taught me how to fold origami and how, no matter how bad any situation got, how she smiled through it. I remember chinese school and how smart she was. I remember the speech contests and the dances that we did together. I remember running up and down the hallways of Kennedy as we played games we made up, many of which we probably weren't supposed to be doing. I remember high school and how I always smiled whenever I saw her in the hallway. I remember badminton and how everyone loved her and just loved her presence. I remember I remember I remember

Yet know, as I type this through tears, I'm so scared that all these things are just a figment of my imagination. That as I desperately try to keep her inside my mind, I'm imagining and creating things that never happened. I'm so scared that years from now I won't remember. That she'll just be "a girl I knew when I was younger". But that's not fair. Because she was so much more special. She was one of those special people that you rarely meet in a lifetime. Someone who's been through so much, but who was always forgot about herself because she loved the people around her so much. Someone who just gave and gave and gave. And God. I don't know what to do or what to say. I don't know what to think, because I'm so scared that if I don't fight to keep this all in, that if I don't try and somehow keep all her memories inside me, they'll disappear.

I know death is a part of life, and I know that I need to celebrate her life as much as I need to accept and rejoice that she's gone to a better place. But it's hard. God, it's so hard. How can I accept that one day, someone was just a phone call away, but now, I'll never be able to tell her how much she meant to me and how much I love her. It's been years since I've had a deep conversation about her. In fact, I know more about her parent's lives than I do about what was going on in hers. I had been meaning to, all summer, to talk to her or hang out with her. But, as with everything we have so readily available, I took for granted that she'd always be there. There was always tomorrow to make that phone call, or tomorrow to say hello.

But there's no tomorrow anymore. There's just today. And today, she's gone.

So for awhile now, I noticed that a lot of my food seemed to be going bad fairly quickly. As a result, being the fantastically clever person that I am, I figured that it was because my refrigerator wasn't cold enough. To remedy this, I decided to crank down the temperature of my fridge as far as it would go.

(pause)

So when I woke up this morning to make a salad, I found that all of my fresh produce was frozen, including all of the lettuce in the bag of salad I was intending on eating.

Great.

This, is a lesson to all of you out there who doubt their fridges. Hopefully you won't end up like me right now, sitting at my kitchen counter with paper towels everywhere as I attempt to soak the moisture from the mounds of lettuce covering them while trying to do my reading about utilitarian vs. retributivist criminal philosophies.

OMFG

THERE WAS A HOUSE CENTIPEDE ON A CORNER OF MY WALL.

AND I TRIED TO SQUISH IT WITH A NAPKIN.

UNFORTUNATELY I DIDN'T SQUISH HARD ENOUGH.

AND I ONLY GOT A COUPLE OF LEGS.


...AND THE REST OF IT IS PROBABLY HIDING SOMEWHERE SEEKING VENGEANCE.

I think I'm going to go cry in a corner now.

I have decided that irregardless of situation or the crassness of untactful people, I will not allow myself to be marginalized.

Life is, after all, too short for meaningless anger.

According to him, girls had two ladders - a friend ladder and a ladder of boys they were interested in. Boys on the other had only one ladder - for boys, all girls were fair game. Well, all boys except him apparently. Because he was special and had many ladders. That, and that he was a big girl. His logic was pretty shady, but she accepted it..


So I bought paintbrushes, watercolor paper, and brush soap today. I figure if this whole law school thing doesn't pan out, I'll paint rocks and butterflies on some street corner and sell them for a dollar. Mind you, I haven't the slightest clue how to paint - my previous attempts were disastrous (I ended up with a giant amorphous blob of color on my paper) - but I figure it can't be that bad. That and the fact that I have a book titled "You can paint watercolors" that I think was written for grade school students which will give me all the painting savvy I need to paint masterpieces.

Right.

Anyways, I shall be posting fantastic pictures of rocks and apples and oranges and whatever other simplistic objects I can grasp in the coming days.

Hoorays.

They were tulips - a collection of small, yellow and pink buds that he had no doubt stolen from some clump in his yard. Typical, she'd scoff to some, laughing at the simplicity of the homey sentiment. Yet, she was glad - more so than she was ever willing to admit - at the sweetness of it all.

I found my excuse wheel today!

_____faith got it for me a couple years ago, and it's this fantastic wheel that provides a range of excuses - from the 'classic' excuse to the extreme 'sob story' - for a host of everyday situations.

Here are a couple of my favorites:

• "Romantically Rejecting Someone"
  
  • classic: not ready
  • extenuating: entering monastery
  • mundane: need to be alone
  • far-fetched: up-coming sex change
  • sob story: scared of intimacy

• "Public Inebriation"
  
  • classic: empty stomach
  • extenuating: accidental fermentation
  • mundane: only had a few
  • far-fetched: slipped mickey at drive-thru (wut?)
  • sob story: very thirsty

• "Unreturned Call"
  
  • classic: didn't get message
  • extenuating: traveling
  • mundane: very very busy
  • far-fetched: forgot how to dial
  • sob story: phone got shut off

• "Missed Birthday"
  
  • classic: later surprise planned
  • extenuating: mercury in retrograde
  • mundane: preoccupied at work
  • far-fetched: gift stolen at gunpoint
  • sob story: childhood birthday trauma

• "Inappropriate Outburst"
  
  • classic: straw broke camel's back
  • extenuating: just got bad news
  • mundane: that time of month
  • far-fetched: birth canal flashback
  • sob story: went off medication

I fully intend to get the most out of this thing. Next time I fall asleep in class, I am going to tell my professor that I was doped against my will. Either that, or I had a sudden onset of narcolepsy.

whee :]

'I wonder if this is how he always felt' she mused. It was strange seeing him now with someone else - obsessed, caught up in that initial whirlwind of inebriation. Watching as he passed on the walkway overhead, she saw the smile on his face and knew that she should be happy for him, happy that he had finally found someone that could make him smile the way he now did - displaying the kind of inhibited joy that she'd never been privy to. How naive of her to assume that he would always be there. Yet, despite it all, it was a rather comforting, albeit bittersweet, feeling to know that she could finally close that door of possibility.


Having graduated from college, it seems only appropriate for me to experience something new and exciting - hence my foray into the magical world of *livejournal*. I've resisted this for sometime now, clinging hopefully to the possibility that pitas would make some kind of sudden ridiculous comeback. However, considering that virtually no one has heard of pitas and that it has turned into the abomination now known as DIARYLAND (whoever invented that God-awful name should be shot), my jumping ship seems but natural.

Unfortunately, seeing as the number of options that livejournal offers make pitas appear nothing short of archaic, this will take some getting used to.