Sup 2010.

Ah, finally, the new year is approaching!

And you know what “they” say: whatever you’re doing at midnight is what you’re going to be doing for the rest of the year!

I told someone that exact sentiment, and they retorted with, “That’s not true.” Oh really, my friend? How about this then? I spent New Year’s 2009 with my head in the toilet, violently vomiting for about nine whole hours into the brand new year. My 2009 turned out to be – overall – fairly shitty. So suck on that logic.

Every blog post about the new year goes like this: 2010 is going to be different! I resolve to do this, this and this! And I’m going to do it all too! Everything is going to change, starting at midnight! Woo! Yeah! Awesome!

Everyone places such a huge emphasis on New Year’s Eve: what their plans are, who they’re going to spend it with, what’s going to be different for them. Inevitably, we’re all let down. Some of us are let down at the actual New Year’s party we’re attending – either by vomiting or by not being kissed by the one we want. Others aren’t let down until towards the end of the year when they realized that they didn’t keep their resolutions – like to stop drinking tequila because it leads to bad choices… oops – or the year just didn’t live up to their unattainable, magical standards of what the year should have been.

This year is going to be different, I s’pose. First of all, I’m NOT drinking myself into oblivion this year. I didn’t even make it to see the ball drop last year, and that’s just sad. Secondly, I’m not making resolutions that I most likely will not keep. Making a list of goals doesn’t make me feel motivated; instead, I feel pressured. It’s hard to focus on things that matter when you have some list on the back of your mind of what you have to do by the year’s end. Third, I’m not going to have any expectations. Instead of trying to sort out what the year SHOULD be like, I’m going to just live – take things as they come and cross bridges when need be. I’m going to focus on just being positive even in some tough situations.

Whatever you plan on doing for the festivities, remember to be safe and don’t be an idiot by drinking and driving. Have fun, and have a Happy New Year :)

"My, how young you look!"

Today I was getting my eyebrows done (so I could finally feel like a woman again, and not have to style my bangs so they cover half my face), when the eyebrow-lady (do they have a specific name?) goes, "You're in college?! You look too young to be in college!" After she found out I was indeed in college, she then insisted that I MUST be a freshmen. When I corrected her, she says, "Oh, you just look so young! You must get that all the time." No, not really.

Since when do people of our parents' generation think it's okay to say that a 19-year-old girl looks "young"? It's not a compliment! It's an insult. Saying "You look so young!" may as well be translating into saying "Awww, look at the widdle baby! Who's a cute widdle baby? WHO'S A CUTE WIDDLE BABY?" in a nauseating baby voice.

I'm almost 20 years old. A legal adult! I can drive a car, vote and go to war! If anything, I want to look older! Specifically closer to the 21 area, so no one will card me or hassle me at bars. Saying a 19-year-old is young-looking is like saying at 45-year-old is an old sack of shit.

So, seriously, brighten my day. Say that I look like I'm 23 and from South Carolina.

---

On another note, it is now technically Christmas Eve. I truly hope you have a wonderful holiday. I know I won't, but I'm used to it. If you hate the holidays as much as I do, just bear with it and know that I'm right there with ya. Anyway, Merry Christmas, yadda yadda yadda.

I'm tired of finals, so what's up Blogger.

A lot of people are finished with finals by now, but not I. I'll be at Loyola until Saturday. Oddly enough, I can't concentrate on the three papers that I have to write, and I am spending much more of my time staring out the window into space, because that's more entertaining than studying.

Anyway,

a while ago, I was meeting someone for the first time, and we were going through the typical banter of where I'm from, where I live and what year I am. When I replied sophomore, the kid said, "Seriously? I don't ever remember seeing you around on campus last year." I make some awkward response saying that I was, in fact, around, but as I'm thinking about it now, I'm sure he did see me on campus, or what was left of me. I was probably a broken girl when he saw me, and I wouldn't be surprised or offended if he just looked right past me. Who I am today is not who I was during my freshmen year at Loyola or prior to that. I probably wouldn't have wanted this guy to meet me last year.

My freshmen year of high school I was also broken. Pissed off at my mom, my "friends" from grade school and mostly myself, I was nervous and self-conscious, worried about repeating what I deemed some of the worst years of my life (in retrospect, not that bad). That didn't really last long. Anyone who knows me knows that I fell into the greatest group of individuals whom I would later call my best friends. We're obnoxiously perfect for one another, even though we're all a bit different. We fit, somehow, and have managed to make it through some rough times all while maintaining an incredibly strong bond. I love these girls with everything I have in me. They saved me, in a sense, from what I don't know, but that doesn't matter. With them, I didn't have to worry about what I said or did. They've always accepted me for who I was so I became a stronger person for that.

That's why I was so surprised and angry with myself for the way that I behaved during my freshmen year in college. People always told me what a strong person they thought I was and, here I was, throwing out most of the ideals and beliefs I had held onto for so long in a such a short period of time. Life gave me a test; I got an F. I'm not proud of a lot of things that I did, and a lot of things that happened I'm still not really comfortable confronting. I buckled under pressure, apparently forgot that the word "no" existed and got entirely too caught in the whole college experience. I was incredibly unhappy, but I wasn't doing anything to help myself; instead, I was just sitting there and making it worse. I was a doormat. I gradually became a shell of who I was. Empty.

This year I'm starting to regain who I am. I've been doing things when I wanted to do them and I've been caring less about some other people's opinions of me. I have a radio show with someone who I can call one of my best friends (and I hope she shares the sentiment) and I live with an entertaining group of girls who never cease to keep me laughing.

Sometimes I still get lonely. Sometimes I still feel as if I have no one that I can really trust. Sometimes I'm really unhappy that I'm here. But I am here, I plan on staying here and I want to make the best of it while I'm here. I'm not just going to sit around and let everyday pass me by. I'm standing up for myself and, you know what, I am happier even amidst a heavy workload. I'm not ashamed of anything I've done this semester thus far. And that's something I can feel really good at.

And right now, I'm going to watch True Blood before I write my essays because, well, I damn well feel like it.

Good luck on the rest of your finals, everyone. And if you're already home, then fuck you, I hate you (just kidding - my envy is clouding my ability to be nice haha).