There's nothing more I would love to do than chillax, Amanda...

Approximately four hours, Lucky Readers.

I am approximately four hours away from the official end of the quarter from hell.

I am thrilled and happy beyond belief. And I will surely be disappointed when I exit the room from taking my last final exam and confetti/multi-colored balloons don't drop from the sky in a flurish of delightful hues as noise makers trumpet the whiny joy of a college student who is far too happy to be done with studying ... even if it is only for a week.

Stupid education...

But yes, only one test left and it should go well enough. I just finished making a study guide (that I have already given to two other classmates to study from, and will probably give to a couple more before the start of the test), and now I'm taking a breather before running off to find a quiet place to review the overly simplistic coverings of the extremely elementary area of study that is Human Resources Management. Or at least that is how my professor has made it for the last ten weeks.

But anyway...

I'm really looking forward to my spring break. Which will offically begin the minute I walk out of that horrible, horrible classroom and head over to meet awesome roomie to finally see 300. After which I will head home to clean the apartment (which desperately needs it), pack, and hopefully make a collage that I think will be really cute when I finish.

You see, tomorrow I'm heading home to Cleveland, at which point I will be around my family, friends, and (starting on Friday) Ted. I will spend my time there chillaxing, reading, knitting, seeing some of my current favorite people, and (hopefully!) interviewing for a job, if I can convince the dude to meet with me.

And it will be grand. To have a couple days to just fucking be - without stress and whatnot. It will be like my entire body saying "Ahhhhhhhhh!" and this notion truly pumps me up.

The only snag I may have is that my doctors have decided to start me on a new med, and the fact that it will probably mess with my body for the first few weeks kind of makes me sad. Oh! And don't forget about the fact that they told me that if I were to get pregnant right now (don't worry though, I have ABSOLUTELY NO DESIRE to do that), the kid would come out all deformed and creepy cause of the medication I'm on.

And cut to when the kid is four, following me around screaming "One of us! One of us!" all the time. I ... I just don't think I wanna deal with that.

But, hey, it will make me better in the end, so whatever happens in the beginning is totally worth it. And, you know, giving me a twentith reason to not want to have a kid at this point in my life is totally awesome too.

If you haven't picked up on this yet (and you'd ahve to be fairly slow to not have picked up on this fact by now), I've made a turn for the positive again. This time, it was just going to see my doctors, and having them force me to realistically talk about what was going through my head that helped. In a few sort weeks I have become completely comfortable talking to them about my stuff, and it feels amazing to do so. Cause I never really have been able to do that with anyone before. In fact, it made me feel so good, that after my session I went over to the Gap and did some sale shopping, which only helped my good mood.

I freaking love a deal, y'all.

I do believe that one of these days this whole therapy thing will prove to be one of the most positive things I will have ever done for myself. And while it may suck to deal with everything, it's gonna all be for the best. And the fact that I am beginning to think this way makes me see that my outlook is changing. For this reason, I am extremely proud of myself.

But now I'm off to study. Although ... since I have so much time, I think I will first head down to the bookstore and pick up a new graphic novel, per my going-back-to-cleveland ritual. It'll be freaking sweet!

Wish me luck, Lucky Readers!


Three hours and fourty-five minutes...

Life stuck on repeat

Despite me grandest of efforts, I let myself think a rather foolish thought, Lucky Reader. I let myself, for five seconds, believe that being happy for three days meant that I was all not crazy anymore.


Isn't that a fun trick to play on myself? So silly! Tee hee!

The past couple days have been really rough. Again. Surprise, surprise. But I handled it better than the last bout of badness. Nothing harmful happened this time. In fact, when I had ... bad thoughts ... I made a healthier choice and made a collage. This may sound like a little victory to other people, but to me it's huge. Mostly cause if I could do it once, that means I can do it again.

This was my beaches of Normandy, people.

Plus, Ted really stepped up to the plate and helped me through the worst of it. Before, I had been afraid to reach out to him and tell him about what I was going through. Cause even though he knew about my crazy (and has been wonderful about it, by the by. He's responded with openness and a desire to understand, which is exactly how someone should respond to such news. I really like him, guys...) I was afraid that if he actually bore witness to it it would scare him away. But it didn't. He just stayed on the phone with me until I felt better. He let me talk through it as much as possible, asked questions to help me articulate my thoughts, and tried really hard to just make me smile, which, sadly, is all I really need sometimes. I am so fucking proud of him right now, Lucky Readers, and I feel so very lucky that I have someone like him.

But none the less, its still been rough. Especially in light of the previous low period (which was only about a week ago. That's right, I'm off balance as shit, y'all!). Basically, I had let myself binge on bad behavior during the previous low period. I didn't fight the urges I get and instead I gave into them. Even though I knew that I shouldn't. And that I had been okay for nearly three months prior to that. And afterwards I was left reeling in my own head, wondering what the hell just happened.

Wow. Reading that back it makes me sound like I do heavy drugs or binge drink. Especially in light of the fact that I'm watching Intervention right now. Rest assured, Lucky Readers, I do not. I'm not that crazy.

But, yea. The roughness of the past couple days has been heartbreaking to me. Especially after I actually felt normal, at least much more than I have for a bit now. And to feel this way now ... it sucks.

Suckity suck suck sucks.

But I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow. And I'll be going back to Cleveland on the 21st. And the quarter from hell has only two days remaining in it. And the opera's done so I never have to work one ever again (hooray!). And I am loved.

Ecetera, ecetera, ecetera.

So once again, I'm going to keep repeating that stuff to myself. But this is getting exhausting and it's not really working all too fantastically. And I'm getting really frustrated.

I'm trying to get better. But the getting better is making things worse. And I know that it has to be that way sometimes, but COME ON! How much do I have to put up with in order to get there?

I go to my doctors so I can get the medication I need to balance out. But there I have to talk about why I need it and that makes me dig up the shit I hate to think about. And then the rough stuff is just laying there, exposed and raw in a vat of salt. And I can't help but think about it. And then I can't help but dwell on it. And that makes me feel like I did for eight years.

But...things aren't really as bad as I see them as being. Not even close.

And the fact that I have to conciously tell myself that over and over again sucks incrediblly.

Ode to Awesome Roommate

I love my roommate.

I haven't shared this fact for a bit, and all day long she has been in my thoughts, so I now feel the need to share this.

My awesome roommate is many things that I love and adore. Besides being so much one of my best friends that I've come to think of her as my sister from another mister, she is scarily smart, a brilliant writer, a talented performer, funny as all get out, an excellent (and might I add helpful!) listener, a lover of all things great and wonderful in this world (most particularly cult/asian movies and burlesque) and beautiful, beautiful, beautiful!

She has survived so many truly, deeply difficult things (ones that would leave most people that complain about trivial bullshit to whomever will listen in a tear soaked ball on the floor) with pose, strength, humor, and resilience. She calls me on my bullshit when I need it and hugs me when I don't. She likes to flash me when entering a room of our shared living space, and this never fails to make me smile. She is supportive of me and all others close to her in a more true sense than I have ever seen.

In the simplest terms possible, I adore my awesome roommate.

But all gushing aside, I am nervous for her today. She has some post-graduation/first real job interviews today that she is about to wrap up as I type this. She is more than qualified for the position and I truly wish her the best of luck.

She was a bit worried last night about all this (understandablly so!), which wasn't helped by the fact that we got locked out of the apartment around midnight (karma punishing smoking...) and I had to convince our downstairs neighbors to help us out. But because my awesome roomie is so wonderful, by the time I got the fellas up there to help out, she had figured out a way to pick the lock well enough that with a firm turn from their manly hands the door popped right open.

Cause that's how cool my roommate is, Lucky Readers.

We could totally rob banks together. If we were so inclined...

And then we would travel the country side in our black Model T, with me at the wheel and awesome roomie manning the tommy gun while screaming "You'll never get us alive, Coppers!" through her set teeth that are clamped down hard on a stogie before we miraculously lose them and head over to our hideout which will be stocked with food from Stella's diner, sudoku/crossword puzzles lining the walls, and Dante wandering about being adorable.

Enter the Kendragon

So I am embracing the random nickname my awesome roommate gave me. I am now ...

Kendragon!!!!!

See ... a Kendragon is adorable!!!!


So I'm going to be moving my blog over to here. For those who have followed me here from my other blog (which I will still occassionally post on, so don't fret ... if you are prone to fretting), know that you are all still Lucky Readers whom I love! But i'm going to be moving here cause I want to be able to post my blogs publicly without fear that the crazy people I don't care about, crazy people i do care about, and potential employers will read them.

So yes, I am paranoid.

Well that will be all for now. i didn't really have much to say tonight, but oh ... I will have more to say later.

You can freaking count on it LUCKY READERS!