I have been dreaming of life post-graduation. 

The boy has recently decided to join the ROTC as a way to not only help fund his education, but as a way to have a guaranteed job when it's time to leave the academic community. 

This is a decision that I am very proud of him for making.

My hope is that when we graduate (which will be in the same year due to the addition of 2 majors to my collegiate plan), he will be able to be stationed in a (Spanish speaking) country that I can teach English in.  Ideally, I would like to work as an English teacher until his service time has expired, then return to the states to attend law school. 

Granted, I have not yet run this idea by the boy.

We've discussed growing up and getting married, just as many lovers do.  I've been thinking about that a lot lately.  I'm tired of other boys, I'm tired of distance, and I’m ready for him.  I know he is the boy I'm going to spend the rest of my life with.  I know it.

I just wish "the rest of my life" started today.

In other news:  My house is cluttered with dirty glasses containing sticky alcohol residue and stale smelling cigarette butts.  I love it that my days have become so productive and my nights so active.  If only I had the energy to clean this disaster.

This was the lovely view from my old apartment.

Schuman Park.
October Sunrise.

I happened to wander into a rather quaint and enchanting bookstore on Ninth Street today.  When I walked in the door I was overwhelmed both by the temperature (freezing cold) and the sight (borderline chaotic).  You see, only about half of the books had made it to a shelf, the remainder were piled in uneven (and rather unsteady looking) stacks that crowded the walkways and nearly engulfed the front door. 

My initial intention was to purchase a copy of the Da Vinci Code (recommended by both Heather and Kelly) because the library has conveniently chosen it as one of its summer discussion books and it was on back order for over a month.  In fear of causing an avalanche of used books by knocking one of the teetering towers over, I queried the long haired gentlemen behind the counter.  He told me they didn't have a copy but could help me find something else (I'm sure there was some method to this madness that only he could understand) and he somehow managed to find 4 copies of the Catcher in the Rye in less than 15 seconds. 

It was an amazing feat and I'm still in a slight state of shock.

The boy and I.
Being Silly.

When he is here I can think of none other, he becomes my reason for living, my reason for breathing.  Even just a brief flash of eye contact can send my heart in a whirl wind of emotion, causing me to crash further and further in love. 

And then he leaves. 

The instant his car pulls out of sight, it all seems to change.  Maybe it's my own malfunctioning defense mechanism to the distance, or maybe I'm truly a demented being - but I begin to do and think and want stupid, irrational things - things that would hurt the only person I have ever loved so deeply. 

I worry that one day I will slip, that I will let my aching heart look for mending in the wrong places.  I would rather breathe my last breath than see a look of pain in his eyes.  I love him more than any one night stand or summer fling is worth.  He will be here someday.  He is worth the wait.

I just hope I don't fuck things up

I think my brain is in need of school to start back up again.  Granted, I have been reading a lot more lately (I just went to the library today), but I'm still feeling rather unstimulated.  I've been craving a companion of sorts (not a relationship companion, but a time-filling companion) that can challenge me in ways that I am not currently challenged.  I feel as if conversation has become monotonous and even the topics of discussion very bland.

I'm frustrated with American politics and I'm craving insight from someone with a different outlook.  I'm bored of the people I meet in bars.  I'm completely annoyed by the drama constantly stirred up by employees at UPS.  I'm feeling rather stagnant when it comes to my artwork due to a lack of funds for materials. 

I'm desperate for something fresh.  Something exhilarating.

I have begun running daily again, which has proven to be an absolutely perfect way to start my afternoons.  I'm on both a superficial and personal quest to lose the freshmen 26 that I so carelessly let myself gain when I got into college. 

Superficial reasons being completely obvious:  I'd like to fit into my old clothes again and I'd like to be proud of how my exterior presents itself. 

The personal reasons are resting mainly on the fact that I feel more vibrant when I'm in better shape and that I'd really enjoy starting to powerlift again.  While soccer was a wonderful way to let my aggression out, my current work schedule won't allow me to play on any consistent basis.  Powerlifting on the other hand is just as lovely as a release as soccer, but can be done on my own schedule. 

In other news, the boy really does have a lovely taste in music.

Ugly Casanova = amazing.

Amanda, Heather, Kelly, Me, Shane.
UPS Midnight BBQ.

Before I get into the detail of my day, I need to explain a few things about where I work so you have some sort of clue as to what I'm talking about.

I am currently employed at UPS (United Parcel Services) as a bagger in the small sort.  In small sort we take all the packages under 6lbs (about 30% of the daily volume) and put them into large vinyl bags.  I, personally, load about 1,200 packages a night.  It can be pretty fast paced, but it's generally the easiest job in our facility. 

The only lifting I've really had to do thus far is stacking the filled vinyl bags onto a cart (usually 3 bags across, 4 or 5 bags high) then pulling the cart to the belt and unloading them.  Pretty simple. 

The frustrating part is that no one seems to think I can handle running bags.  Every time I do, drivers will stop and help me unload the cart or even my immediate co-workers will help.  I usually tell them I can handle it, but they never listen.  Some even try to push me out of the way and do the entire thing for me!

Well, today was my chance to actually do some lifting.  After things had died down a bit Jarvis, my supervisor, let Heather and I go help the guys in unload (unload is where they are literally unloading the packages from Semi-Trailers and putting them on the belt to be sorted out).  It was a blast.  For the first time in my employment at UPS I actually got to do something physically challenging.

Good story, I know. . . . But I really was excited!

The other exciting part is that my competition for the supervisor position I just applied for has decided to move to Maryville.  I feel extremely guilty being excited that he is leaving because he is a wonderful person and great to work with, but getting this job will allow me to not only get paid to go to school, but it will make it SO much easier to make ends meet.

In other news:  I got my nose pierced!

If you look really close you can see it. . And mean really close (es un poco nose ring)

I think right now the thing that drives me the most insane are the people that spew over and over that "Bush is amazing" yet have nothing to back it up.  The one person I have truly enjoyed debating this subject with is my friend V.  We have completely opposite opinions and equally hard-ass attitudes, so it makes conversation thrilling.  This boy has done his research, he has very valid points and is extremely educated on dates and numbers and facts.   It's really great talking to him because I feel like we both grow from the conversation.  Well, it is quite possible that he gets nothing out of it - but he inspires me to educate myself further, to learn more so I can come back next time with fresh arguments and new ideas. 

I will say though, that he hasn't won an argument yet :p

Anyway I'm think I'm going to stay in tonight (For the first time in what, 2 weeks?!) and read some good ol' Harry Potter. 

POST SCRIPT:
I have a newfound love for Eagle Eye Cherry.  Yum.
Oh, and in case you were curious, it also drives me insane when people have obnoxious animated gif's as their background or have music playing in their blog.  blah.

While this weekend was utterly exhausting, the only words to describe my experiences are, "simply amazing". 

The adventures didn't start until after dark on Friday.  The boy took the day off so that we could leave for the lake as soon as I got off of work, meaning we didn't arrive in lake country until around 1:30 am.

I never had realized that gas stations were the place to be on a Friday night in a small town.  But seriously, at about midnight, the line to the cashier was approximately 15 people long and the parking lot was swarming with loitering young adults.  I felt like I had stepped out of my car and into the scene of a low budget film.  All I wanted was a soda - and it took about 10 minutes to get it!

When we were about 20 minutes away from the lake house, we had a run in with the cops!  Well, technically we had (somehow) managed to get ourselves lost in lake country, so we turned around to ask a cop we had seen a few miles back for directions.  He somewhat panickedly jogged to our car shining a flashlight directly in the boys eyes when we pulled up to him.  After realizing our predicament and pointing us in the right direction he (hilariously in my mind) gets this worried look on his face and asked, "so, uh, how did you know we were sitting here?!?!?". 

It made me smile.

Anyway, spending time at the lake was amazing, so amazing that trying to describe it in any detail would require me writing a novel.  In short;  My grandfather told us humorous tales from the war, my grandmother cooked delicious meals, a BEAUTIFUL storm passed through while we were standing under a sheltered dock, the dog swam for hours on end, we played in the most gorgeous river I've ever seen, I went on a 10 mile tube ride, we fed the fish, boated, skied, hiked, laid around, got sun, cleaned the shore, had a huge bon fire (by huge, I mean HUGE), we just had a blast.

On Thursday, at midnight, I will be attending the third Harry Potter movie with Heather.  My plan was to read a book a day until then (reread the first three), but I don’t' think I'm going to make it.  Oh well, I'm going to head down to the pool and at least read a few chapters.

POST SCRIPT:

You know, it really is beyond me how someone who doens't create art can call themselves an artist.  Or someone that doesn't take photographs can call themselves a photographer.  Or how someone who I have NEVER seen a line of poetry come from can call themselves a poet.

Could someone please explan that to me?

Kelly made a very accurate observation yesterday involving my reaction to Eric and Jason both standing me up last week.  She asked me if I had ever been blown off, even once, by someone before. 

Well, to be honest, I don't think I ever had been blown off. . .  This may slightly explain my retaliatetory behavior involving both of them.

Notice me approaching Eric at the bar every time I'm more than slightly intoxicated and calling him [insert insult here] and congratulating him on, once again, not talking to me.  Then please take note of him walking away.

I'm so suave.  I bet he hates me.

Jason also has the pleasure of being harassed by yours truly during drunken binges; he has become my chronic drunk call.  I'm not sure why I persist with that friendship; he never answers his phone or calls me back.  The only effort I've seen him make toward communication with me is when he'd so slyly set his belongings down at the seat next to me in women's studies. 

Although, he did tell me that the reason he doesn't want to hang out with me is that he doesn't trust himself enough (he has a girlfriend).  So maybe I should take his blowing me off as a compliment. 

I bet he's infatuated with me.

Any way, last week, before Shane got fired from the pool hall, his bartending had me in the ladies room praying to the porcelain goddess for about 2 hours.  During that time these fucking amazing girls came in (Alyssa and Kate) and made sure I was doing okay.  They are not only the most attractive lesbians I have ever met, but probably the most attractive couple I have ever met.  And I don't just mean aesthetically - they had stellar personalities to boot.

The boy and I saw them at Wal-Mart the other day and I told him that if a girl like that wanted to date me, I would have no reservations about obliging.  This, of course, was of interest to him and he did not hesitate to tell me that he had no problem with me dating women. 

Judging from the typical male excitement in his eyes when he said that - I'm sure he meant that he had no problem with me making out with women.

I'm actually quite surprised I haven't locked lips with Heather or Kelly during one of our drunken rampages through town.  Kissing girl friends is just one of those things most 20 year old girls feel obligated to do at least once.  Takes me back to three way kisses in the swim pool at church camp.

We were so cool when we were 12.

I'd like to think I'm not the same person I was then - I've made so many changes in so many aspects of my life that it would be preposterous for someone to even make a statement implying otherwise. 

I've noticed that some people think changing their surroundings is actually changing -- but what they are failing to realize is that if you were a rotten person before, and the only alteration you've made in your life is superficial, you will still be a rotten person now. 

That is the difference between you and me, my friend; the changes I have been making are not just being made at the surface - but at the core.  I'm pulling out those ugly rotten pieces of me (we all have them) and trying to turn them in to something beautiful.  I acknowledge that I wasn't perfect then (hell, I was sometimes an outright disrespectful bitch) and I acknowledge that I am not perfect now.  But I am trying to become a better person.

The part that really gets to me is that you claim to be happy, yet appear so consumed with hatred and anger (a seemingly unhealthy amount of each).  Does someone who is truly happy have so many hurtful things to say? 

Maybe you have failed to realize that this vendetta is purely one sided.

Or maybe, you really are filled with guilt from all the horrible things you've done.  (And I'm not just talking about the past, darling; your behavior hasn't improved much since)

I have no ill feelings toward you, nor any hurtful words to spew in your direction; I don't see the point of wasting time and energy on such negativity.