I'm not afraid to fall; it means I've climbed up high.

Two of the men on my list of desirables may actually desire me back, the major problem being you need to be about as blunt as a brick to the face before they'll even notice that I like them back.

 

The other two men on my list of desirables are old and fat and go by the names Robert Redford and Cary Elwes.

I've dealt with anxiety all my life.

 

I was a shy kid and I had a hard time making friends in school. I hated standing up in front of class and talking. Even in high school I still had huge problems giving a speech. I turned 16 and it took me 6 months to get my driver's permit. I graduated and left home and had a hard time adjusting to college.

 

But things were okay. That was just the way I was, and I was functioning pretty well. Until around this time last year, that is. It's not like there was something there that wasn't there before. I'm not sure what it was, but something in me must have snapped. I remember staring at the circle of about twelve faces when I was supposed to be summarizing something that we read for class. I just started crying and couldn't stop. After that, I almost never spoke in any class.

 

I've had some treatment, but things aren't working. I thought it might be just because I was trying to talk to a guy that I had a crush on, but then I was sitting in class again...

 

We were doing another discussion, and I actually had something to say. I practiced the words over and over in my head. There finally came a pause. I should have been ready to talk. I knew exactly what I was going to say, but my heart was beating a hundred miles a minute. I couldn't open my mouth.

 

Something needs to start working, or I'm doomed to be always be frustrated and silent.

 

 

Fuck.

I have decided that the world would be a much better place if people never broke these three simple rules:

 

Don't be a dick.

Don't be a pussy.

Don't panic.

 

I think I just figured out a way to face my problems.

I think I'll move to New Hampshire so my hatred for Massachusettes is a bit more justified.  

 

Massachusettes: 2

Me: 0

 

 

The end of the semester is always a bit of a sad time for me. It's not just the snow falling down or the exams and work piling up. It's the thought of missed opportunities, of time wasted when you could have been doing other things. It's the memories of complaining instead of laughing and of being alone in your room instead of out with friends. There's always a definite loss at the end of the year, and it's not just from time going by more quicky than you ever thought it could.

 

When I was a kid, I always thought that life moved in cycles. If Christmas wasn't very good this year, there was always next year. If you couldn't wait that long, there was also Easter and my birthday. If I missed the parade one year, I could go to it next year. It was okay if I didn't go today, I could go the next time.

 

For a child, that might have been a good way to think. That was, of course, until I graduated from one school and moved on to the next, and then had to learn new events that would repeat themselves. In other words, there was always time to correct a mistake. There would always be a chance to do it over.

 

I'm slowly starting to learn that this really is the only chance we get. There is no time left to think twice about something, or wait for it to come the second time around. Already in my life I have done things that I may never do again, and I've very glad that I have done them. There will be no chance to correct them, so I'd better be pleased with the way that I lived through them. There is no time for corrections, and no time for regrets. If all we have is now, then we need to live it, every moment that we can.

I can't believe that it's Decemeber already! This semester went by so quickly...

 

The score of the semester

 

Random bouts of depression: 1

Rock puns: 4 or 5, used over again

Students that I want to kick in the teeth: 9, most of them in my anthropology class

Parts of the brain I learned about: Uncountable billions. @_@

Ranks in karate achieved: 1

Apartment door grafitted: 1

Firecrackers thrown at door: 1 string

Beer bottles thrown at door: 1

Calls to public safety: 3-4

Meetings with the Dean: 1

Dinner with Mormon Missonaries: 1

Buildings Burnt Down: 3

Weeks of Folk Dancing: 5

Parties: 2

Computer crashes: 1

Becoming a bitter, jaded old lady: Since the summer, but getting better

Irish Festivals: 1

My parents being awesome: Multiple counts

Games finished: 2

Novels finished: 0

Complete meltdowns: 1

Fancy tea parties: 1

Crying on the phone about boys: 3

Having the best friends in the world: Always. =p

Positions given in clubs: 2

FNL Shows: 2

Skits written for FNL: 1

Throwing down my geology book in frustration while shouting "I don't care!": About 4

Fire alarms that I set off: 0

Fire alarms that one of my roommates set off: 1

Cosplaying: 1

Typewriters found: 1

Words written in November: 51,000, and a little extra

Near-electorcutions: 1

Near concussions: 1

8 Page papers written in one night: 1

Finally being happy without one of those boyfriend doohickeys: Priceless.

I feel like a character in shojo manga, except I'm not the main character. My eyes aren't big enough, and I haven't met my "prince" in a clumsy yet endearing way. I'm more like the heroine's best friend, who at first tormented the main character for the first two or three books, and now serve as the heroine's sounding board who occasionally gives her advice. Aw, man, this means that my love interest, probably a childhood friend, isn't coming in until, like, volume 10. :c At least I don't have to cry in front of backgrounds of flowers!