Canceling Out

I may not be phenomenal in math (or even know much math at all), but I do know that when a positive cancels out a negative, the answer is zero, or even. After today, I'm pretty sure I canceled out the bad day I had last week.

Last Monday was what I will refer to as "FML Day." For some reason I didn't think I had to work last week, so I was going to sleep in. I got a call at 8 in the morning on my cell phone. I dragged myself out of bed and answered the phone like I was drunk. "Hellllooo?" An angry drunk.

"Hello, is this Christine?"

Oh, shit. They used my real name. Only the people at work use my real name.


"Yeah."

"Hi, this is _____ _____ from Student Dining, and our schedule says you were supposed to work at 7:30 today?"

"What?" I was confused. "But, this is A week. I work B week and A weekend. I don't work this week."

"No, we alternate weekends, not the weeks."

"Oh..." reality just bitch-slapped me across the face. "Ohhhhhhhhh snap! Ohmygod, I'm so sorry! I'm so, so so so so sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!"

"That's perfectly fine. How soon can you get here?"

My mind was racing. "I can get there in an hour."

"Okay, well, just take your time and we'll see you in an hour."

"Okay, thank you so much! I'm so, so, so sorry!" I wanted to cry. I started to. I ran to the shower and shampooed and shaved as quick as humanly possible. After stepping out of the shower I started to cry again. I brought my towel to my tearing eyes and dabbed the tears before racing around again. Fifteen minutes I dashed out of the house and sped to work. I got there within the hour I said I would.

After starting off on a bad note, it's very hard to turn your day around. My day progressively grew worse from parking in one of the back rows to forgetting that the marching band was in the actual stadium. I very much wanted to scream "F*ck my life!" constantly throughout the day, but I couldn't, mostly because I didn't want to offend more people than I already have. I went home and just wanted to sleep and cry. I was uber angry, like a walking time bomb. The day after was better, but it wasn't till today that I'm convinced I redeemed my bad day with a good day.

Despite having to wake up early to take my littlest brother to the orthodontist, I ended up going to campus earlier than ever on a regular school day. I had one and a half cups of coffee, got tater tots and bacon (with ketchup, mind you), wrote most of a song that I've had in my head for a while, was praised by my writing professor for my rough draft, basically had my only real class of the day canceled, did my service to the band by posting stickers of addresses on envelopes, watched the video of our first show last week, got caught in the moment for the first half of Chicago Part III, and ran through new music, and had a nostalgic feeling. I later had a dentist appointment, to which the dentists said my teeth were healthy and outstanding and wouldn't stop gushing about how good they looked. This had to be my good day, it had to be!

Hopefully this short week will continue be filled with better times than worse. Of course I have to work on Wednesday and Friday, so maybe not. But who knows? So far things have been looking on the bright side.

That is all.

Thank you and good night.

It's Alive!

So, obviously it has been a while since I was last on here. To anybody who actually reads this, sorry to keep you waiting, ha.

A lot has happened since June 4, 2008. I went to Drum Major Camp, I went to Nebraska, I started senior year, I over-committed myself to projects as usual, and, to cut to the end, I graduated from high school.

Chapter 2: College!

I got a job, I am working in the dining services at the student union on campus. It could be better, but it sure as hell could also be much worse. The people there have been extremely patient with me, and for that I'm grateful. My major is creative writing, and I'm pretty sure that I want to write for television for a living, ultimately, Saturday Night Live. I already got a couple ideas brewing in my head, and when the time is right, I will unleash them to the world. I've also made it into the Falcon Marching Band, and my friends and family couldn't be prouder of me. I'm also proud of myself, and I'm even prouder of the fact that I even attempted to go for college band, since I haven't marched a halftime show in 2 years. But the band family is very supportive, and the positive attitude really makes a difference and draws the fine line between high school band and college band. All in all, things are going about as well as can be expected I suppose.

I won't lie by telling you that I was nothing but stoked to start college. I was terrified, and I hated how my life was changing. I still do. I'm starting my third week of college tomorrow, and even though it feels like I've been in college for months, I'm still terrified. I used to think I was terrified of the changes around me, but after giving myself a reality check over the past few days, I realized that I'm terrified of the changes in me. Not like physical changes (making it into the college marching band has really helped me stay in shape), more like the personality changes.

Two weeks ago I thought I'd be the one who kept calling her high school friends whenever she had free time just to tell them she missed them and was going to the football game on Friday night just to see their faces. After the reality check I've come to terms that I am actually the one who graduates and rarely stays in touch, whether because she's too busy or just doesn't care. I do care, honestly, but I don't care enough to call my high school buddies and tell them how much I miss them every chance I get. I'm sure they know I miss them, but if they want to get in touch with me they can. After all, I'm living at home and I drive by my high school every day I go to school. I was hoping I'd be the graduate who always came back every other week to say hello (and after last week, maybe I will), but... I don't know.

I'm having a hard time figuring out myself. I'm starting to think I'm slowly reverting back to the old me. The Christy when she was 14 years old and was depressed all the time. The Christy who would pull her hoodie over her head and curl up and not talk to anyone, and I mean nobody. The overly shy Christy that I worked so hard to pull her hoodie off her head and let her curls hang out... it took me a long time to change myself, and I feel that college is squandering me back to my old ways. I don't want that to happen, but if it's meant to happen, then hopefully I can overcome it a second time.

It also doesn't help that I've never been in a relationship and it feels like all of my friends have their boyfriend or girlfriend to hang out with. I hate saying that I feel lonely and under-appreciated, but I do. It kills me to see my friends holding the hands of their lovers, and here I am, being the extra wheel, the single friend. I mean, being single has its perks; I don't have to worry about what my guy would want for his birthday, or for Christmas or whatever holiday he celebrates, and I don't have to waste my money buying crap for him. But at the same time, I want to spend money on a guy, a guy who is my special man and I am his special woman. On the other hand, I really don't have time to be in a committed relationship, and I never have had time to commit to a relationship. Is it because I purposely over-commit myself or maybe because I'm too picky? I tend to fall for older guys, and, unfortunately I also have the tendency to fall for man-whore douche bags. Maybe I should reset my standards...

All in all, I will try and revive my blog back to its original glory, if it had any, and I will keep any and all readers posted as I continue my ramblings on: the words from a disorganized mind.

That is all.

Thank you and good night.