My life is an epic fail.

I've neglected this blog.
Terribly.

Let's just say,
College turned out to be an epic fail.
The last few months have been a roller coaster.

I suffered from homesickness.
I was diagnosed with depression.
I was dumped by the boy.
I lost weight.
I went on meds.
I gained weight.
I decided to transfer schools.
I made friends.
I started to talk to the boy again, and we decided to stay friends.
I started to trust him.
I began to regret my decision to transfer at the end of first semester.
I realized my friends at college weren't the greatest.
I found out through facebook that the boy was dating a new girl.
I went through another funk.

And now I'm back.

Keep in mind, the last three all happened within the last few days.
By few, I mean two days.


The boy is history.

I've realized who my true friends are.

I'm going to a community college in my hometown for the next semester.

I still have to decide which college I want to go to next year - I've applied to a bunch. But now it's time to make a choice.

I'm indecisive about my life, and I hope that changes.

I've applied for a job which I'll hopefully get.



I'm kind of in an awkward transition.

But I'm optimistic that it will all work out.

At least at this very second.

It's finally happened.

I could ramble.
But I've decided to keep this plain and simple.

Mostly because my battery's almost dead.


I'm ready for college.

I'm still emotional.
It's all bittersweet....


But I'm ready.

Goodbyes and boxes

I just have to give you a box update.
All the newly bought things are officially packed up.
All that's left?
Things like makeup and shampoo that I'm still using daily,
And then I just have to dig through my desk drawers and decide what little knick knacks I want to bring with me.

It's settling in.
This is it.

I'm not... as scared anymore.
I'm a little worried that I won't get along with my roommates.
I'm starting to second-guess my major choice, of course.
But... I'm getting used to the idea of college.

Seeing older friends update their facebook status to excited sayings about college, like "Going back 'home' - can't wait to see my friends!" really helps pump me up.




Today, I said my first official 'goodbye'.
It was to my uncle who'd managed to stop by.
Considering I leave in 3 days, and he probably won't stop over between then, my mom made me say "goodbye".

It consisted of me walking into the garage, where my parents were talking to him, and saying "So, this is where I awkwardly stand here and say 'See you at Christmas'?"

They all laughed.
My uncle's response was "You'll be home before then"
Then he left.
My dad's side of the family think the less you say, the better.


Either way, the goodbyes are starting.
I had 3 text conversations before 11am, discussing when they'd have free time to stop over and say goodbye.

It's odd.
In all cases, I just said "No worries if we don't get around to it - I'll be back in 2 months. You won't even miss me :)"

I think that's my approach to this leaving thing.
Avoid goodbyes.
Switch them up to "See you in a few months"

Like I've said before, to many people, I'm pretending this is just a vacation.
I'm going to a fall sleepaway camp.
I'll room with 2 strangers.
We'll do group activities every weekend.
We'll just happen to learn things along the way that have to do with our ideal career path.

It'll hold off homesickness...
Or so I hope.


There's only 1 goodbye I'm worried about.

You guessed it.
The boy.


He's the one person I have to say 'goodbye' to,
But he's also the one I don't want to.


The best part?
(Sarcasm, of course)
I thought tomorrow was his last day.

Correction,
NEXT Sunday is his last day.

Here I'd been excited, thinking he had Monday off, so that we could hang out one last day.
And I thought there'd be a chance that he'd be willing to skip cross country practice to help me move in on Tuesday...

Only he has work.

True, he can ask off.

Multiple people - friends, parents, and strangers - have told me "Just ask him to take off! You're going to college! It's a legit reason!"

But I still feel guilty.

I think I will ask the boy to help me move in though. Or at least let him know he's been cordially invited by my parents to tag along, and that I'd love it if he came.
The rest can be left up to him.

I'm afraid we won't get a proper goodbye.

The boy and I are terrible that way.
Our timing just fails.
I can't emphasize that enough.
Whether it's texting, running into one another at grad parties, or what days we're in town vs on vacation.

But this has to work out.
I need it to.

That's a kind of goodbye I can handle.
He'd help me all day, unpacking boxes and arranging my room.
He'll see where I'm living.
He'll meet my roommates.
He'll see everyone else on my floor.

It'll give me a sense of calm, too - knowing that he's been in my room.
As lame as that sounds.
It will just be a sense of comfort I can't really explain,
But hopefully you can understand.

Plus, it will be a drawn out goodbye.
An entire day of getting used to the idea.

That, by the end, all we'll do is hug, kiss, and promise to keep in touch.
I'll joke about how I hope he survives the drive home with my parents.
It'd be great.

Crossing my fingers.

2 other times over the last few weeks, I've raised my expectations for boy hang outs.
Both have failed.
Let's hope the 3rd time's a charm.

I have a love-hate relationship with clothes.

I realize these getting-ready-for-college blogs are boring.
All it consists of is me bitching and packing.

Well, that's all my life consists of right now.
Bitching and packing.

Bitching at the boy for stupid reasons,
And attempting to pack.


Lately I've consciously held off on the bitching.
But that only means I have to put all my energy on packing.


The last 2 nights?
I've slept on the couch, because boxes have taken over my room.
I have a kink to prove it.
Maybe I can get the boy to smooth that out?
We'll see.


Back on topic,
I've realized something.

Packing is not only a lot of work.
It's a lot of strategizing.
I spent 10 minutes figuring out how I could should cram 4 bath towels, 3 hand towels, 1 beach towel, 1 twin-XL size blanket, 2 waterbottles, and 2 sets of hangers all into the same box.
In case you're wondering? I succeeded.
It was a strange kind of satisfaction.

But, then I moved onto clothes.

This is when I got stressed.

What clothes do you bring to college?
It's a tough balance.
You want to bring a lot, so that you have to do laundry as little as possible,
But then, at the same time, you're given microscopic closets that will not hold your entire wardrobe.

I facebook creeped through college-friend's pictures.
Trying to see what they all wear.
How dressy do I go?
How laid back?
Do I pack mostly warm clothes?
Or does the heater work overtime in the summer, making tank-tops acceptable?

We're not even going to talk about underwear.
I don't know how many pairs I have.
I have to count.
My goal number was 21.
I might have to make a mall run this weekend.
Good thing the closest decent mall is 45 minutes away.

And then there's athletic wear.
I have like, 3 pairs of shorts, 1 sports bra, a stretched out pair of yoga pants, and a whole bunch of t-shirts.
I plan on starting to work out in college.
Or at least go running on the tredmill for a bit every day after class.
I might need to eventually stock up on sports bras.
Again... that might require a mall run.

Then there's a bath robe...
Are those optional?
And pj-pants... I always wanted a few pairs of boxer shorts...

So many last minute clothing runs.
I thought I was so on top of this college-shopping thing.
I guess not.

Today is packing day.
By tonight, when I go to bed, I will have a final list of the things I need to get.

6 more days.
Now it's crunch time.

On the bright side,
Tomorrow I'm taking a fun day and going on a double date to a baseball game with the boy.
I'm excited :)

Packing.

It was, is, and will forever be a bitch.
I believe this fact so much,
I'm willing to have it on my gravestone.

My room is a disaster.
Don't believe me?
It's true.

I'm trying to be proactive about this whole packing situation, though.
You see, the last time I moved, I was 4 years old.
I managed to escape the hassle of squeezing as many things as possible to as few boxes as possible.

I'm gritting my teeth and making my way through the necessary hassle.
Facebook breaks and Glee CD's blaring on repeat are really helping me out.
We'll ignore the fact that I'll have to sleep on the couch tonight, though, since there's no way my bed will be cleared off in the next few hours.
If anything, more crap will accumulate on it.



But, as apparent, I'm in a much better mood.
I think everyone can tell.
The bitch phase, for now, is over.
I credit the fact that tomorrow is my 1 month anniversary with the boy.
That sounds so lame to say.
1 month.
That's nothing.
Every relationship should experience a one month.

But hey - this is a stepping stone.
We're going to take this soon-to-be long-distance relationship one day, week, month at a time.
We're going to make this work.


I could ramble on about more college things,
But the boy is texting me,
And I have boxes to pack.

Until next time.

We've reached single digits.

8 days and counting, to be exact.

When we dropped to single digits, that's when it finally started to hit me.

I can't emphasize 'started' enough.

On the 10 day mark?
I was a complete bitch.
A bitch to the boy,
A bitch to my family,
A bitch to random strangers.

Not full out. I've been worse.
Let's just say I rolled my eyes a lot and walked around with my arms crossed for a majority of they day.

But, most importantly,
On the 10 day mark, I got to spend the night with the boy,
Holding hands and watching fireworks.

That might be significant, since it may be one of the last times I see him before I venture off to the land of higher education.



The 9 day mark?
Still bitchy,
But the second I was alone?
Waterworks.
I was a pile of pathetic tears.

I don't know how it started.
There was a car show at the park.
My dad invited me and my sister along to go with him.
I agreed - figuring it'd be nice (but boring) family bonding.
Like I said, I had realized that we were down to single digits.
I realized I had to slowly start my goodbyes.

I went upstairs, to change out of my sweats.
I had to dodge a few boxes on my way across the room, to my closet.
There were papers scattered everywhere from my college -
Orientation schedules, postcards from advisers, immunization forms I need to turn in yet...
The second I made my way across the cluttered space and started to open my closet door,
I just broke down.
Blubbering doesn't begin to describe it.
It was embarrassing.
I stumbled over to my bed.
Collapsed into a mopey pile.
Let it all out.
Regained composure.
And ran back downstairs.


Hours passed.
I just remained reserved and bitchy to everyone I came across,
Except for strangers.
I had a special peppy speech prepared for them.
A long monologue about where I'm going to school, what for, and how excited I am.
I did drama for 7 years.
I'm very good at role playing.

Then, I came home.
I went up to my room.
All of those boxes and papers loomed over me.
I'm not claustrophobic,
But in that instant, I felt like I was.

More hours passed.
I started to think.

I realized I only had 9 days left.
Friends facebook messaged me, saying what days they were free to hang out.
I realized it was crunch time.
It had reached the point where I had to start scheduling goodbyes.

I thought about the boy.
My stomach clenched uncontrollably.
Once again, I fell into a blubbering pile.

I came to the scary realization - I only cried whenever I thought about saying goodbye to the boy.

The family?
I'll see them again, every holiday for the rest of my life until I die.
Any goodbye to them is only a goodbye for now.

The friends?
As much as I'll miss them, I will easily find temporary (or not so temporary) replacements. I'll be able to manage. I'll always be able to find someone to gossip and watch reality TV marathons with.

The boy?
True, some will argue that he's completely replaceable too.
Again - one of these days I will go into the history of the boy on here. But for now, we'll just settle with - I spent 8-9 months laying the foundation for dating him, and 2 months working up the courage to ask him how he really feels.
I've put too much blood, sweat and tears into this relationship.
I'm not giving up that easily.

Saying goodbye to him?
It's almost, dare I say it, heartbreaking.


The bitchiness came back.
Why won't he text me back?
I know he's off of work.
He's probably eating dinner.
Can't he eat faster?

Then the texts came.
I was relieved when I saw his name flash across the screen.

Then the impatience.
Why was it taking him 5-10 minutes to answer to every text?

I think, over the course of a drawn out, 90 minute texting conversation,
I broke into tears 3, possibly 4, times.
All in the privacy of my room.

My family was downstairs, doing their own things.
Laughing, joking, unwinding.
And I was upstairs.
Freaking out about college,
And crying over the thought of saying goodbye to the boy.

We're not even going to mention how much it killed me when I read the text "Sorry, I'm hanging out with the guys. I'll text you later."
Here I am.
9 days away from going to college.
Sitting on my bed,
Curled up in the fetal position,
A puffy, sniffling mess

And he's hanging out with his friends.
(In his defense - for the last 2 months, he's hung out with his friends twice. Otherwise, his time was spent at work or with me)



I did what any girl would do.

I made a giant bowl of ice cream and coated it with too much chocolate syrup, paired with a giant glass of mountain dew.
I turned on the TV and changed it to a chick flick,
And I sat there,
Sniffling,
As I texted the best friend - asking her if this was normal.



We've now reached day 8.
This morning, there was a small slip of watery eyes.
But nothing drastic.
I think I've cried myself dry,
At least for a day.


The boy texted me later that night.
He mentioned how I seemed different.
I confessed how stressed I was over college.
He reassured me it would be okay.
He mentioned over and over how happy he is to be dating me.
He promised that I hadn't been a bitch over the last few days (liar)


Now, I've decided to channel my energy.
There will be no more repeats of last night.

Hang outs will be scheduled in advance.
Boxes will be packed and ready to go by the time we reach the 5 day mark.
Final things are being taken care of - physicals, eye exams, errand runs for pencils and pens...

I just have to breath.

Even though I found out that the boy works for the next 8 days straight,
From 11-7.
And has mandatory sports practice from 7-9, Monday through Friday.

At best, I will get one more day with the boy.
One more day to say goodbye, that will have to last at least 3 months.

With that, I'm off to the pool,
To stalk my boy at work,
And try and OD on seeing him before I leave...

The Wizard gave me a heart.

This post could go one of two ways.
Boring or Sappy.

Neither are ideal.
But I have to go down one of the forks in the road.
I opt for sappy.



I've only been dating the boy for less than a month.
I could quickly veer down the boring path and go into our history,
But I'll save that for a rainy day.


When the boy and I made things official,
We made it clear that I was going off to college.
The entire time we were flirting,
The entire 4-5 months,
I made sure to keep reminding him, and myself, that I was going off to college.
3 hours away.
I thought it'd make things easier.


But at some point,
My cold blood thawed,
I threw down my guards,
The wizard gave me a heart...

I started to care for the boy.

It was just today that I realized this.

I've been toying around with the idea of 'love' for the last week or so now.
I know I'm not there yet.
But I'm dangerously close.

You have to understand,
The boy is my first boyfriend.
He's the first guy that I've let get this close to me.
The first person I've opened up to this much.

I was always known as heartless.
Sarcasm was my first language.
If any cute stranger would try to hit on me, I'd roll my eyes at him and give him the cold shoulder.
I didn't think boys were worth my time and effort.


Then the boy came along.
My boy.
Somewhere along the way,
I fell into like.



The boy has a twin brother.
It just so happens that his brother is dating a good friend of mine.
Who is also going off to college in the fall.
We're in the same boat.
Dating the 16 year old boys actually brought us closer.


Today we were hanging out.
The conversation took a nostalgic turn as we sat on a bench in the middle of the park.
The topic?
"What are you going to do with the boy the night before you head off to college?"
We sat there, debating.
Which was better?
Going on an adventure, making memories, and just enjoying each others company?
Or sitting on a couch, cuddling, fighting back tears?




That's when it hit me.

It's almost impossible to make me cry.
I've only cried in 2 movies.
Lilo and Stitch, when I was 10, at the part where Lilo was being taken away from her sister,
And Just Like Heaven, when I was drugged up on cold medicine and out of it, when she said it was too late.

I also don't miss people.
When I was 14, I went on a week-long trip with my school to DC.
It took me 4 days before I called my family, and that was only because my friends made me dial the number.
I was the definition of a loner.


But then the boy snuck up on me.

As my friend sat there, confessing how she's sat down and bawled, thinking about how much she'll miss everyone, more importantly her boyfriend...

I realized that I felt the overwhelming urge to cry too.

The idea of cuddling up with the boy,
Confessing how much I'd miss him,
Sounded like exactly what I wanted to do.

I started paying more attention.
To the way a smile spreads across my face when I get a text from him,
followed by this relaxing sense of calm and reassurance.

I realized that I'd find myself spacing out at moments, remembering the way he'd look at me and smile after a goodnight kiss, only to snap out of it and find myself smiling in return.

I'd read a text from the boy, saying how he loves the fact that we're dating, and I'd find my first instinct would be to respond with the text "And I love you."



I care for the boy.
Love would be taking it a little too far...
But it's getting there.

It scares me to no end.
The fact that one person could have such a deep hold on me.

But, I wouldn't trade it for the world.



The only downside?

11 days before I move into college is the worst time to come to this realization.