Glitchin'

My computer keeps on glitching. So I don't often use it. As I get started into something, downloading music, looking up things to read, editing photos, etc. my computer freaks out and turns off, (which--let me tell you--is AWESOME) and I'm left to wait the 10-15 minutes for it to reboot. (Honestly what century is this? I feel like I'm living in the 2000s (-_- @ me.))

I am glitchin'. Once I get started on something BOOM my life turns off. The restart usually comes in the wake of an anxiety attack, or a Day of Depression, or maybe a particularly bad batch of cookies. But once I turn off, it's so hard to wait that 10-15 minutes for a reboot. Most of the time I can't. I have to try to distract myself with something else.

This is the first thing I've been able to reboot in a while. Maybe it was all the cool gifs, or the fact that you can now search Google using picutres (????!!!!!) but I got through it.

So that's something.

Late Night Convos w/ Myself

Me: You always assumed that you sounded like a girl but people on the phone with you are constantly wondering if your nickname "Sam" is for "Samantha", but maybe you just don't know you sound like a boy, idk idk.

Me: You think everything has changed but most things are the same.

Me: Why can't you stop listening to Justin Bieber?

Me: Did you just look up how to spell "Bieber"? Who are you?

Me: You rode in cars with boys in high school so why was Friday different?

Me: You keep saying that you're you and thats okay, but is it really? Is it okay to have anxiety attacks every other day? Is it okay to go a week without washing your hair? (yes.) Is it okay to teach your nephew to say "Guess what--chicken BUTT"?

Me: Because you've done all of those things.

Me: Stop caring so much about anything and start caring more about everything.


Me: ???

Me: !!!

?

"Where do you want to go?"

"Everywhere."

"No, I meant with your life."

"I know."

You haven't even read all the Harry Potter books and I still like you, so

I tried to make a Feelings For You Pie Chart today and all I could come up with was this:

• 30% like.
• 49% ugh.
• 12% heartache.
• 9% wtf I am trash.

Revised Feelings Chart, Part 2:

• 100% why?

And Part 3:

• 100% why not?

Thank Heaven

I saw you at 8 AM today, and thank heaven for that. 
Thank heaven for soap. 
Thank heaven for henna pens. 
Thank heaven for rocket ships, and planets, and fake tattoos. 
Thank heaven for clean fridges. 
Thank heaven for two papers and thank heaven for two rocks and then thank heaven for a pair of scissors and a single piece of paper even thought that meant not seeing you for a while. 
Thank heaven for $1 movies and thank heaven for a priceless soundtrack. 
Thank heaven for for curly hair.
Thank heaven for nieces and nephews.
Thank heaven for cancelled recitals and long drives not taken.
Thank heaven for violins, and for the old ladies who teach it.
Thank heaven for Prom and all the ones I didn't go to.
Thank heaven for gaps in teeth and shots for South America.
Thank heaven for the pandas in China and the tigers in Thailand.
Thank heaven for boys who weak Spanish, thank heaven I can't understand what you say because I only feel the words and that is how I like it.
Thank heaven for stake conference and getting to church 3 hours late.
Thank heaven for full time and thank heaven for full time with you.

more on my Heart

If a dream is a wish that your heart makes, then mine has been asleep for months.
It's woken up a few times since January, but never fails to fall back again.

Honestly this time is different. Maybe it only feels different because every time is different, you know?
But every time I see your face my Heart swells to 10x it's normal size.
Is it normal for my chest cavity to fill with butterflies at the sight of your name next to mine?

I've developed this habit of trying to hold my Heart.
My hands clutch at my chest, trying to reach it.
Maybe to shake it awake, to keep it from falling any further.
I can't tell how much farther it can fall before it hits the floor and shatters.
But the sight of your squinty-eyed, gap-toothed smile fills my Heart until it bursts,
And I have to try to keep it together, but my Hands can never reach it.

My Hands know their job. They fix things. 
They've been trying to hold things together since forever.
But they can't get a handle on my Heart. 
Nothing can, apparently. There is no reasoning with it.
I've decided that they only thing I can do is be ready to catch it 





right before it hits the ground.

this is why i'm trash

I gave up on blogging because who is going to read this any way

I gave up on reading blogs because I didn't know who was writing them

I haven't sat down and typed like this is so long

Because I thought about settling for someone who wouldn't even consider growing a man bun

Because I didn't do college and told people it was because of my anxiety when mostly I just didn't want to go to school

Because I've been rolling my eyes so often that it's become my resting face

I washed my darks two days ago and I still haven't folded them

When people ask me if it's hard working full time and I shrug and say "what else would I be doing?"

I was going to go to Greece

I got one of these One-Line-A-Day-For-Five-Years journals and I didn't even last a month

Because about once a week I sit down to write in said journal and try to think of what I did last Tuesday and I can't remember

Because I really want to go to some of Nelson's creative writing classes, but now I'm too old

And I also don't want to be that person who goes back to high school

Because I didn't know there was a SFYS Poetry Slam tonight and I went to Chick-Fil-A after work when I would have had plenty of time to catch the last hour of slams

Because when you graduate high school no one tells you just how awful Adult Life really is

Because I was going to find a gif to put on the bottom of this blog post but I'm too lazy to find one

BECAUSE WHEN I GRADUATED HIGH SCHOOL I IMAGINED LIVING THIS WONDERFUL LIFE THAT WOULD BE AN ADVENTURE BUT I'VE BASICALLY BECOME MY WORST NIGHTMARE AND I'M SO RUSTY AT WRITING THAT I'M GOING TO END THIS BLOG POST BY SAYING THAT I'M TRASH AND I KNOW IT AND THAT'S IT.

"I MIGHT HAVE BEEN ASLEEP WHEN I WROTE THIS"

This isn't about how I quit college. And it's not about my mom telling me to go back in January. It's not about getting a degree. It's not about an income difference of $30,000. It's about me.

It's about the heart palpitations I had the night before I left, and it's about the fact that my roommate was tossing and turning all night and then telling me that she slept "fine". 

It's about being real. It's about waking up in the middle of the night and asking myself why I was there. What was I even thinking? It's about the sister who went to college for a year and is now a mother and a wife with no degree. It's about how she is okay.

It's about my #realtalk final and how Nelson told me that I probably wouldn't go see the world. It's about how on the inside I was like, "UHH WTF." But on the outside I was just like, "uh". It's about how I want to go to Milwaukee. 

It's about my Call to Adventure. It's about the Phantom of the Opera lesson and how we had to choose Art School or Business School, and how there wasn't another option. Well I just made one. This is about the Do Whatever You Want School.

This isn't about winging it. It's just about me doing what I want and everyone else minding their own business.

7.18.14

I wrote for myself today.

I sat down and I wrote.But in an effort to write for myself and not for the comments, I'm keeping it for me.I feel good about it.This has been long over due, but I don't know I felt like today was as good as any day to start something good, you know?

This is progress.And I am pumped.

CHEAP PANIC ATTACKS & DISHES

I went to Ikea with my mom the other day to buy dishes and forks and knives and pots and pans and etc..

Mom: Honey, which strainer do you want? This one is only $3.
Me: OH MY GOSH MOM PUT IT ALL BACK I CAN'T HANDLE THIS RIGHT NOW.

***WHEN YOU HAVE TO PAY FOR YOUR OWN COLLEGE-STUFF/ADULT-LIFE-STUFF IT'S HARD TO NOT STRESS OUT AND HAVE PANIC ATTACKS.***

Right there in the middle of Ikea, I had a bonafide panic attack. Because like people need so much for college/life. I'm so cheap that I only bought one plate and one bowl and one mug. My mom told me that I should at least get two and I was just like MOM I CAN'T AFFORD TWO PLATES when in reality I probably could but I just couldn't handle buying two plates when I'm single and not really ready to mingle.

And then we went to go pick out some utensils and I was freaking out again because I had to buy four forks/knives/spoons because that's what came in a pack and tbh that's so annoying.

Mom: What else should we get today?
Me: OH MY GOSH MOM PUT IT ALL BACK I CAN'T HANDLE THIS RIGHT NOW.
Mom: We can come back.

Oh my gosh I can't commit to dishes. 

You're the caboose to my train of thought

I'm exhausted and I don't know if I'm just not recovered from the four hours of skating at the all night party yet or if I'm just tired from working 35 hours last week.

And I'm quite upset that 35 hours doesn't count as full-time, not because I need benefits or anything but because every time I pick up my phone I find myself answering"Fitness Center this is Sammy how can I help you?" And I think that's important.

When I was introducing myself to my roommate via email I had to pause and ask myself what I wanted my name to be in college. Because anyone named Morgan can call me Sammy, and anyone named Mary can call me Samantha so what would people in college think about Sam? 

But I don't know how my name will sound in college, so I just went with Sam, because it's only one syllable and I like that.

I imagine this whole "roommate" thing is probably what an arranged marriage feels like. I wonder if girls get their future husbands name in an email. And I'm wondering if maybe they stalk those men via social network.

I wonder if my future roommate has stalked me. And I'm now sort of regretting  all the pictures I've posted of myself eating food. 

But only a little bit because like me eating a hot dog at work while telling people to have a good workout was so ironic and irony is my favorite.

Speaking of irony, I feel like compared to all of you I am so immature (I definitely googled how to spell "caboose"). But all the pictures on instagram and twitter of you kids in washing machines today have got me questioning that. 

Mostly because I've been doing my own laundry since sophomore year, so to all of you I say: good luck in college, I hope you've learned to separate your whites from your red socks.