My first real party...

Well, as tonight was the Saturday of Halloween, my friends and I threw a party. It was really a lot of fun, as much in the planning stages as in the actual party. Once the party got going (and we decorated really, really nicely) it became clear though that we'd have to go out somewhere. As much fun as all of us GIRLS had, we're just a buncha girls. There is a severe shortage of guys at Maryville...so we went to a Frat party at UMSL (University of Missouri at St. Louis). That's right...I threw a party and went to my first Frat party. It was pretty cool...lots of drunk people, lots of alcohol (what a time for me to be the DD), dancing, music, I had a good time. I met a guy and gave him my number, but I don't expect him to call. And even if he does...so what? It was just nice to meet some people and have conversation. Anyway...I'm headed to bed so I can get up and go to work. G'night...

It's 2 a.m.

I should be sleeping. I would be if I were a normal, rational person. But instead I'm up feeding my blog addiction. It's fine though...I've been up for 21 hours or so...may as well go for 24 right? Anyway...we went to Fright Fest at Six Flags tonight. It was a lot of fun...a great way to kick off the Halloween weekend and an inexpensive way to relieve some pent up stress (thanks Maryville for picking up most of the tab). I rode all the rollercoasters...rattled my brains, scared myself and screamed until I'm hoarse...but I'm really glad I went; sometimes I don't think I have enough fun in life. Other times, I have too much fun and suffer the consequences. Like with sex...I had a little too much fun with that...and now I'm paying the price. But alas, that's a whole other can of worms and I'm too tired and muddle headed to get into it.

In other riveting news (well, for 2 a.m. anyway) I found the Wal-mart Supercenter in Eureka. This really makes me happy because I miss Super Wally World (which is all they have in my area of Iowa) and now I can go there for my therapy. I mean, yes the school provides a personal counselor, but...well...she's just no Wal-Mart, LOL. I just realized that I have an essay due on Tuesday. I should probably start that this weekend, but I know that I won't. It's only a two-page thing...no big deal. Well, not relatively. Anyway...it's about time for me to shower and sleep. Or shower and not sleep. Either way....

Have I just been wasting my time?

I've been cheerleading for 5 years (7 if you count middle school pep squad). I don't do it because I'm good; I do it because I like it (maybe I love it even?) and I want to improve. Today is the first time I have ever, EVER wanted to cry at cheerleading practice. This college thing is such a different world from my high school days and it bothers me because I feel like no matter how well I'm doing, it isn't good enough.

I was never a flyer, which in cheerleading terms is the skinny girls that get tossed in the air. I was also never a base (the people that throw) because I'm not very strong, but in the last couple weeks I've been put in a basing spot on a Liberty. This is a simple collegiate stunt, but a difficult high school one, and for someone like me that hasn't had years of basing experience, it's really hard. I'm giving 110%, but as usual it isn't good enough. Today was one of my hardest practices ever and I was close to giving up. What happened to the me that I used to be? I never even used to contemplate quitting--in any serious sense. I don't like feeling like a failure. I probably hate feeling like a failure worse than being a failure. I'm kind of depressed...I hope I can get over it long enough to finish my homework....

I feel nothing...

I'm having one of those days where I feel nothing...not tired, not angry, not happy, not depressed, not stressed. I really just feel nothing. It's incredibly weird, but I have so many things going on that generally would cause me stress and worry but for some reason, I just don't give a fuck right now.

Thanksgiving Holidays...

We have a basketball game in the middle of them...so guess who gets to spend their entire off week sitting at Maryville? While I understand that if there's a game we need to be here, I feel like these girls that live 30 or 40 minutes away don't understand that I can't just go home for a day or two and come back for the game and then go back again...each trip home costs near $40 just in gas...if I did that, I'd have to make the trip 3 times in a week. This is frustrating...I'll be spinning my wheels in an empty dorm for 4 days....

I'm tired...

...very, very tired. I went to bed at midnight, which is actually early for me. I went to my 8:00 class and then slept more afterward, but I'm still really tired. It's a crappy day outside and it's not doing much to uplift my spirits either. I can tell that I'm having one of those overly depressed days...but for what reason? Today should be a good day...I only had one class, I had my homework for it done last week, I made it on time and I finally made it to Starbucks...what's the problem?

Self-esteem

Today in my freshman seminar class we talked about gender roles and how women are viewed by society. Toward the end of class, the instructor showed a video called Killing Us Softly 3 which talks about the way women are portrayed in advertising and how it affects how they are viewed by men and how they view themselves. The woman, Jean Kilbourne, brought up some very good points about the passivity of women in ads, the sexual nature of ads not relating to sex, and how most are geared toward making women feel the need to be perfect, and how perfect isn't attainable...and so the vicious cycle begins and continues.

Now as I'm typing, I'm very upset, so you'll have to forgive me if this isn't clearly worded. But the entire time I was watching...I felt horrible. Because they're absolutely right. Years of seeing what perfection looks like, and how men react to it, etc., have contributed to the negative feelings I have about myself. I'm not perfect...far from it...not tall enough, not skinny enough, my breasts aren't big enough, I have boyish hips...the list of perceived flaws just go on and on and on for me. And for how many other girls and women? What's worse is that knowing these things doesn't make my negative self-image any more positive...if anything it makes it more negative because I always thought that I wasn't weak minded enough to fall into that kind of trap--yet I was.

I'm in the trap, and can't see my way out of it. I do not have good self-esteem. And making that statement just about killed me...who wants to admit that? No sane person that I know...the above sentence is the first time I've even allowed myself to think that I have low self-esteem, let alone say it aloud or see it in print. I have low self-esteem. I realize this...but where do I go from here?

On the way out of class, my instructor stopped me and asked what I thought about the movie...and I told him that I was angry. He assumed that I was angry at the way women are portrayed, and I am, but I was also angry with myself for allowing myself to become the way I am. My problems run much deeper than I'm going to get into now, because my cousin will read it and want to kill me and because my friends may read it and then question me...but I feel so lost at this moment. My instructor also asked me if I was going to go out and change the world...change the way things are...I told him "no." That answer isn't typical of me, and he looked at me for just a moment and didn't say anything...but all I can think is how can I change the world...when I don't even have the courage to change myself?

These thoughts are rapid and jumbled, but I'm very disturbed. I had a realization about myself today that I just don't think I'm ready or able to deal with. I don't know exactly what to do, but I find myself in a difficult situation with no where to go...

...sex vs. lovemaking...

LOL...now I really know that I've been up too long. But this is what this damned blog is for...my thoughts, no matter how random they are. I can't keep censoring myself just because I may not want certain people to read it. I need to be real just for my sake...if my friends happen along and read it, then so be it. (Hey y'all, LOL.) Ok, here goes....

What's the difference between sex and making love? Wink tried to explain it to me once, but I wasn't trying to hear it. The truth is, I'm sure that I know...even if I haven't experienced it. I've had sex. A few times in fact, and it was awesome, but I've never made love. Maybe I never will...don't you have to be in love to make love? I think you do...or you at least have to have some tender feeling toward your partner, otherwise it is just sex. Sex can be great, can't it? I imagine that lovemaking is infinitely better...some day I want to find out. I don't think I'm cut out for sex...at this point it's what I want, because I've never experienced it before...but eventually I will want more. And then what?

Sleep is for the Weak, II

I should be asleep now, but for some reason it just isn't happening. I've been thinking...is there such a thing as being too open and honest? There aren't too many things about myself that I wouldn't tell someone if asked...and a lot of times I volunteer the information. I simply cannot help myself. Someone told me last month that my honesty and willingness to answer just about anything I'm asked is what they like about me. But is it wrong? It certainly leads to unnecessary problems for me...how can I change? Do I want to? I'm really not sure, not about that, not about anything.

Love on the brain...

Love. What is love? I'm not so sure what it is. I am sure that I have love. I love my mother. I love my brother and my sister. I love my other siblings, too. But I think that familial love is much different than the romantic kind...and what is that, exactly? Have I ever felt it? How would I know?

I've been in love before. I've also been infatuated. I think I have an inkling of the difference. When I was in fourth grade I developed a crush that lasted the better part of five years. That's like a century to normal pre-teens. I liked this boy (his name was James) so much--he was cute and funny, etc. etc. But one day I realized that he wasn't very nice, and I haven't been able to be in his company since. That was infatuation...that was drawing hearts with "Mrs. Scott" in them, that was daydreaming about growing up to become a movie star while he was in the NBA type stuff...that was imagining us "doing it" without really having a grasp on what "it" was (and all the things that come with it). I woke up from that state almost totally overnight, and never looked back.

And then I was in love once. Maybe all the "real" grown-ups out there wouldn't consider it love, especially since I never physically met him, but I know in my heart that it was. He was older than me--much, much older. It started as a primarily online relationship...and NO it wasn't the typical 'old pervert meets young honey in a chatroom and they start cybering' story. We met and started talking quite by accident...and I was my normal self...wanting to absorb all the knowledge that he could give me in such a short time. From there it escalated and very quickly (as is my nature) I was very, very, very emotionally attached to him. I have never felt anything like it before...it was amazing, really, because up until then I'd had serious doubts as to whether or not I was capable of feeling things like normal people do. Anyway, the ins and outs of that relationship are irrelevant, what I'm getting to is the feeling of being "in love," from my perspective anyway. I felt like I'd found my oldest, dearest friend...like I could tell him anything. I felt like a complete person for the first time in my life...I was happy and I was making someone else happy. It was incredible. Then I realized that as incredible as it was, it wasn't a healthy relationship by any means...and so after a very long, emotionally trying process, I had to sever all ties with him. That still hurts me today. I'm leaving many details out right now, but they're much to personal (and even a little sordid, LOL) for me to put out there...but what I'm saying is that I've felt it before.

This is also what has made me believe that it is possible to love someone without being in love with them. I still love him, and part of me always will...but I'm not in love with him. Although I miss that feeling, I know that it is for the best because at one point I had ceased to be myself and I can't live that...not for him, not for anyone. And since this experience, I've come across the "love" thing a few times. I've got several male friends that I love, but am not in love with. I can think of several, but I'm not naming any because it doesn't matter. The fact is, I love my friends. All of them.

It is amazing to me how I have known some of my friends for almost my entire life, and they hardly know me...yet I feel this incredible connection to the friends I've made at Maryville. Do we know every little detail about each other? No, but one of the great aspects of this incredibly close friendship is the road to discovering them. Every day we find out something new about each other and it draws us closer and closer...it's amazing really. I love my friends. I will say that, regardless of how long we've been friends...I love each and every single one of them (yep...HIM too, LOL).

I guess what I'm getting at here, is that for the last several days I've been thinking about love in all of its forms. I've been reading other people's thoughts about it, as well as their struggles (and triumphs) with it. And it just has me thinking about how love fits into my life. I think it is there everyday...I'm a lover. I "fall" so quickly and completely that it is scary. It opens me up to a lot of heartache and pain...but also so much joy. I can't change who I am, and I don't want to...I really just want to understand myself more. I think I'm well on my way...

Another Random Thought

I was driving home tonight from a busy day of running around after my brother (and if I didn't love him so much, I would probably hate his guts) and it was dark. As I kept checking my rearview mirror, I saw some shadows and headlights and things and briefly thought someone was sitting in my backseat. This got me thinking...what would I do if Jesus was in my backseat? Or my passenger seat...or if I was in His presence just in general?

So as I'm driving along (now very paranoid that the Lord was going to be sitting next to me any moment), I was coming up short. I had no idea how I would react. I imagine that at first I would be startled and jump, I know that I'd do this because I'm a big baby and sometimes I jump at my own shadow. But then what?

After more thinking, I think that I would probably react with fear. I would be afraid of the Lord because He sees everything and He knows everything about me, including things that I don't know and have yet to discover. I would be ashamed, too, of things that I've done in my life time and I would be sorry. I would be so incredibly sorry for some things that I've done, especially here lately.

How would Jesus react to me? With anger? I doubt it. I'm not sure how He would react. Would He speak to me? Would I be able to answer back? Maybe I would be so awed that I wouldn't be capable of speech. But then, would that really matter? I mean...He's Jeus, for crying out loud, I'm sure He already knows my heart and all the things I would want to say. So all of this has me thinking...and it also has me a little uneasy. But eventually I will know the answers to my questions, because someday I will meet with Jesus. And hopefully I will walk with Him and talk with Him, too. I guess until then I can only wait...

The need to get up and go...

Lately I've been feeling kind of well...trapped. Maybe it's because I'm not used to being without transportation and I miss having a vehicle to drive, or maybe I'm just crazy. Either way, I'd really like to travel. I'm thinking of taking a trip around Christmas (and Lord knows I'd love to do something for my first official Spring Break)...but I don't want to go alone. Usually I'm cool with being alone, but I think going on a trip like this requires me to have someone with me...at least the first time out. So, Richanda...you wanna travel with me? Or are you going to send me into the cold, hard world all alone with nothing but the clothes on my back and a knack for getting drunk and removing my clothes? LOL...jk.

Peeping Tom (er...Thomasina, LOL)

I just realized that I'm a peeping Tom. Ever since my cousin got me hooked on blogging (it's like a drug...thanks Wink, LOL), I've been reading his Council Blog. It took me a long time to get up the courage to actually say anything, and I still don't comment often because it's not my comfort zone, but I do read it a lot. And I've started to read the individual blogs of some of the people that post there. That's why I'm a peeping Tom.

I don't know most of the people that post on the Council, or if I've met them I am not aware of it, yet I feel this connection to certain members. Francesca, in particular. I read her blog almost daily (she updates a lot, just like me). I don't really know her, although I think I've met her once (but I can't be sure), but I think that I would like her. She seems like a very sweet, honest person and she just strikes me as someone that is very cool. But at the same time, I feel like I'm intruding into her personal thoughts. She really uses her blog as a place to pour out her soul...and unlike me, she has been having some real problems lately...not just ones that she imagines or creates for herself. I feel almost like I'm standing outside a window and looking into her inner self and I feel like it is wrong. Maybe if I actually knew her and she had invited me to look it would be different, but as of now...I just feel like a peeping Tom, er...Thomasina, LOL.

Why do people give their children stupid names?

When my first niece was born 10 years ago, I became really interested in baby names. Her mother had bought a book, and of course ended up going with something stupid--Iry Nicole. Since then, I've been determined not to give any children I may or may not have an awful name. What's is the criteria for being "awful?" A name that is:

• difficult to spell OR impossible to pronounce
• "unique"...most people use "unique" as a synonym for UGLY and ODD
• too popular to age well (can you imagine an 80 year-old named Tiffany or Kelly?)
• doesn't mesh well with a middle name
• too race specific, or not gender specific enough (example: LaQuanda or Bryan {on a girl})

As it stands, all my nieces have "awful" names:

Faticia Vadonn, Iry Nicole, Raina Sophia, Imonie Nadearie, Aja Lyna (like Lynnae) DaBreon, Manaysha Haley, Jayla Gladys (Gladys was my grandmother's name...I like this name, but Jayla won't age well), and Neimone.

Nephews are Steven Kenneth, Jr. and Roy Wesley, IV (not too bad, but not great). I've also got a Michaela Anne on the way...not thrilled, but it's liveable.

The reason I'm bringing this up is because the baby name site I look at has a message board and these people are horrible, horrible namers. What happened to classic names like Elizabeth, Catherine, Christine, Anne, Josephine, Amanda, Yvonne? If I ever do have kids...Lord help me not to fuck their names up...

I feel so violated

I had my very first experience with "women's doctors" today...I went to get The Pill and they gave me a breast exam and a pap smear and all that other lovely stuff. It was awful...well, not too bad. I think I'd rather have a pap smear than a shot...but it was still kind of...I don't know the right word. I was exposed and my space was violated. And then the lady had the nerve to tell me that the little metal thingie is smaller than a penis so it shouldn't hurt. While this is true, I must admit that as a novice, a penis hurts too. But at least there's pleasure beyond the pain...this was just uncomfortable. And don't get me started on how she jammed her fingers up there....

And the kicker in all of this? I can't even start my pills until NOVEMBER. Wouldn't be such a big deal, but part of the reason I want to go on them is because I have irregular periods. Who knows when my next one will be? Hopefully very soon...I hate waiting.

I'm also depressed...I gained 6 lbs. Which wouldn't be much, except that I've gained like...20 lbs in the last year and a half or so. Anyone know any good diets? LOL...

What is it about me?

What is it about me that makes people perceive me the way they do? My entire life I've been judged by people that haven't even met me, and because of it I spend 90% feeling like I'm on the outside looking in. It's crazy to me...it really is. Without even talking to me (and I've heard this from people that I was later friends with) a lot of folks think that I'm this innocent little goody-goody...they think I don't swear, don't drink, don't watch rated R movies, etc. I'm not like that...in fact, that's exactly who I am.

But on the other hand, people think I'm some kind of sex crazed maniac...or a pervert or something. I'm at the end of my rope just about...it's hard enough trying to figure out who I am and who I want to be...I don't need other people (that don't even know me) analyzing me. I don't even need people that do know me analyzing me. It's gotten to the point where I don't even know what I can and can't say...I can't kid, can't joke...I just feel like I don't want to say anything anymore. To anyone.

She's right...

Today in Freshman Seminar we finished skimming through the good parts of a movie that we started Monday. The movie is The Contender. Now I don't know if anyone reading this has seen that movie (or if anyone is even reading this, LOL), but it is about a female senator that is being considered to replace a recently deceased Vice President. It's a very good movie and I'm now planning to watch it in its entirety. During the course of the movie the people that oppose Sen. Hanson dig up some "dirt" on her sexual past...namely that she allegedly participated in a gangbang at the age of 19 (complete with pictures). Sen. Hanson, however, refuses to discuss it with anyone even though it severely hurts her public image. While speaking to the President in confidence, she tells him that she won't answer the questions because they had no business being asked in the first place and that by answering them she will be "saying" that to ask them was ok. He asks if she is willing to jeopardize her political future over this, to which she has an answer that has struck a profound chord with me:

"Principles only mean something when you stick to them when its inconvenient."

When I heard this line...I let it sink in and I said to myself, "She's right." And then I thought...what about my principles? What are they exactly? Would I abandon my principles the first time they were an inconvenience? I don't like to think so, but as my principles have never been tested (indeed, I don't even know exactly what they are), I really have no idea. This is scary to me. What if I'm doomed to live life as an unprincipled person that doesn't give a damn about anything or anyone and has no morals?

That's depressing...

Random Thoughts

I just had a random thought...if you can't tell whether your day was good or bad, what kind of day was it? Today was one of those days. I woke up feeling very rested (oddly enough, as I got little to no sleep) and made it to my 8 a.m. on time. I got my homework done in time and was generally having a good day.

Then I went to work. I like my job...but, I hated it today. And then my friends are fighting (y'all better straighten up and act right...I can't have my surrogate family all screwed up). And then I had practice, which is both good and bad. My body always loves a good work out, but for some reason, I just wasn't in the work-out mood.

Right now I'm feeling kind of disconnected from everything. My brain isn't plugged into my body. I keep having these random thoughts, like:

• I need to give myself a manicure.
• I want a massage...full body, deep tissue (preferably from a very tall, muscular man, LOL)
• I'm glad to have my room to myself at night this week.
• I'd like to have my room to myself forever.
• I wonder what it would be like to have sex in the shower...or in a car...or in semi-public place...or with more than one person at a time...or with a chick (am I allowed to wonder that?)...or what it would be like to have sex without any inhibitions...
• I wanna know why my thoughts always turn to sex....
• Why do the thoughts of the people around me always turn to sex, even if I don't say anything aloud?
• Do I have "sex-fiend" written on my forehead?
• Will I be able to get ice cream when I go home this weekend?
• Will I ever get married? Do I want to?
• Will my siblings ever straighten up and act like adults?
• Will they ever be happy?
• Will I ever make my parents proud of me, just because I'm me?
• Will I ever own a cute pink bra from Victoria's Secret?
• Bridget is a beautiful name. So is Josephine. I also like Alexander.

Random, random, random...

Resident Evil and why I will never "get" it...

When I went home two weekends ago I saw Resident Evil 2 at the theater. It was a great movie, even though it was a bit confusing. The lead female kicked ass and looked great doing it...who doesn't love a movie like that? But, as much as I liked it...I will probably never truly understand the damn series. Why not? Because I have yet to see Resident Evil (pt 1).

Where is the problem here? I'll probably never be able to watch it. I started it tonight. I had such good intentions...about five minutes in I got distracted. From now on, the minute I see Milla Jovovich in those ass-kickin' boots...I'll probably get distracted.

So much for knowing the back-story...

Reasons I shouldn't drink...

1. I talk too damned much. I'm generally a very open person...which is both good and bad sometimes, but generally I censor myself. Not so when I've been drinking...I think I discussed my underwear and my enjoyment of adult novelties with a total stranger last night.

2. I don't like hangovers. I was so fucked up today that my supervisor thought I had morning sickness. I swear I didn't even drink much...it just wasn't agreeing with me.

3. My mother is insane. This isn't really related to my drinking, but she did remember to tell me that alcoholism runs in the family and she lectured me about not drinking and driving (which I DO NOT DO). Then her mean-spirited ass kept pushing me and making me stumble. Not nice...

Who am I today?

Today has been one of those days. I woke up at 3 p.m., but that's not bad for a Saturday. I'm not usually the type to sleep the day away, but I don't sleep much during the week any more, and I especially didn't sleep much this week. I've been thinking all this week about who I am. The truth is that I don't have a clue. What a cliche, right? But I really don't.

Somedays I think I really know myself, and others it's like I'm a complete stranger. Then there are days when I know myself and I don't like myself. I hate those days. I hate that I am impatient, and that I have mean thoughts. I've gotten better at keeping those thoughts to myself, but I can't seem to stop having them. I hate that. I hate that I have no idea where I'm going, and I can't stand that I really don't know where I'm coming from. (And Wink, just in case you're reading this...don't tell me that it's ok to not know where I'm going because I'm just starting out...I don't wanna hear that shit LOL)

This post is jumbled because I don't even know what I'm trying to say here...just that I don't know who I am, and I don't even know who I want to be. Do I want to be one of those girls that is perfectly put together at all times? Part of me does, but another part says that how I look shouldn't matter. Do I want to be an intelligent, articulate young lady? Part of me does, the other part realizes that it isn't probable and that knowing a lot of information isn't necessarily going to make my personality attractive to others (meaning that I could be a genius and be friendless because I don't know how to relate to others). Do I want to be typical? No...and I'm not, but what am I? I want to be a good person, but what makes a person "good?" So many questions and I can't answer them...it's so frustrating. I talk to my older friends, siblings and family members and they all tell me that it will come with time, etc....but at this moment, that isn't any consolation. Hmm...I think I'll leave it at that...

It's 3 a.m.

...I'm just getting in. We went to the Fall Festival Dance (it's like Homecoming only not) and it was really fun. There was dancing and food, this photographer that took a zillion pictures of me and my friends and there was just a ton of fun. I'm incoherent right now...which is fine. I'm on a natural high. My friends are the greatest.

Sleep is for the Weak

Alex's "friend" D. showed up last night...Chanda felt the need to interrupt my shower to tell me this, too. So we go downstairs and hang with him and his friend again and at like midnight they're just like...let's go to Johnnie O's. So we all piled into Brandon's (D.'s friend) car and headed to Fenton. It's probably very weird that I've been to that damn novelty store three times in as many days. It's also very weird that I went in twice and didn't buy anything...I never come out of a novelty store empty-handed. So of course I had to buy something last night. I think I'm a freak. Or like I will be a straight freak--someday and with the right person. Anyway...it was a fun night, even if Chanda has been giving me smack about Brandon liking me (which I'm sure he doesn't) and even if I did only get 2 hours of sleep. The formal dance is tonight...and then we're going to club Velvet....I'm going to sleep all damn day tomorrow.

Bitches and Hoes

I consider myself a young woman, sometimes even a young lady. I think that as a woman I deserve and demand a certain level of respect. I think all women do. But I also think there are some females out there, that are not ladies and they are not real women. They don't behave with respect and they don't deserve respect. These "women" are what I would call bitches and hoes.

Now, how can I as a female call any other female a bitch or a ho? I guess I can't. It's kind of judgemental and just really wrong. But when I see these bitches out here fucking with people I care about, it really pisses me off. That's not a good reason to rant and rave and as a mature adult I should know that, but I'm not a mature adult yet.

The bitch in question, is married to my cousin. She's 13 years older than him and has children three years younger than him...and she's a goldigger. And a game player. And a dried up hag that's trying to stay young by acting like she's my age. My cousin is an Army Reservist, currently in Iraq. From the moment he left, she's been fucking around with just about every guy in B-town (close to where I live in Iowa). Now she has a somewhat steady boyfriend (which my cousin doesn't know about) and she's fucking around on him, too. My cousin gave her power of attorney (which makes sense...it's his WIFE for crying out loud) and she has drained his bank accounts and wrecked her cars (that's right...cars PLURAL). She lost their house because she's using the money he sends her every month to party...and this bitch is in her 40s. Their son knows all about her boyfriends because she can't even be discreet...and well, it is really pissing me off. There's nothing I can do...but it's just one of those things that makes me want to call her a bitch to her face (which I can't do as I'm here and she's there).

There is really no point to this rant and rave...just that there are some women out there that behave like bitches and hoes. It makes me angry because I'm not one, yet I've been treated like one by guys that have been burned by them. I guess all I can do is call a bitch a bitch and a ho a ho.

I just wasn't thinking

What was I thinking last night? Obviously I wasn't. After cheerleading practice I drove my recently turned 18 friend to Johnnie O's. Although I'd been there the night before, she hadn't ever been to an adult store and wanted to go. No problem, except that we didn't get back until midnight and I hadn't even attempted to start my homework. Add to this that my roommate's fiancee got here yesterday (a Marine, fresh from Okinawa Japan) and he stayed with us last night. I'm sure he's a nice enough guy...but it made me a little uncomfortable because I couldn't change in my room, etc. Anyway, I had to finish my homework and since they were pretending to be asleep I went to the lobby downstairs. This was my mistake.

Alex and Chanda, my friends from school, come downstairs and inform me that this guy that went to school with Chanda and is now trying to "talk" to Alex is on his way here so that they can finally meet in person. Keep in mind, it's after midnight. Oddly enough, everyone on campus seemed to come through the lobby at some point, including some commuter students that should have long been asleep in their beds. So, the guy shows up at about 12:15 and brings his friend (I later find out it's his cousin) with him. So while Alex and D. talk, Chanda and I strike up a conversation with his friend at the same time that all five of us are talking to each other.

What is it about the conversations I have these days? They always turn to sex. Is it me? It has to be me...but I swear I didn't bring it up. So as I'm listening to a back and forth between D. and his cousin (it was about ways to tell if you have "good dick") I'm thinking about sex. More specifically, where I want sex to fit into my life. Do I even want it to fit into my life?

The answer is--I have no idea.

On one hand I have my cousin (the "Master") trying to guide me (the "Grasshopper") through this very confusing stage. He has told me on more than one occasions that I should "get mine" or figure out what I want and then get it. But that's the problem--I have no idea what I want. I honestly do not think that I'm cut out for meaningless sex. Most certainly I don't see myself as the type to sleep around, and I don't want to be that type...but what type do I want to be? I still can't answer that. And it is really, really frustrating.

At any rate, I finished my homework around 3:30 a.m. (true it was only 16 math problems, but who can concentrate with a conversation like that taking place?) and I overslept this morning. It's my fault, and I know it is. Clearly I just wasn't thinking.

Early Morning

I have my mother's car for the week, and after being stranded on this little college campus for two months, I have been ready to get up and go. What does this mean? It meant going out for a midnight drive, knowing good and well that I needed to get up early today. I know that my definition of "early" is probably not the average workin' man's definition, but getting up at 8 a.m. after going to bed close to 4 a.m. is tough. Especially if your first class isn't until 12:15 p.m. But anyway...about this drive...

We did not go to Wal-Mart. I specifically said that wherever we ended up, we would not end up at Wal-Mart. Now don't get me wrong, I love Wal-Mart. No particular reason...being there just gives me a good feeling (especially when I'm depressed--I'll just go wander aimlessly at the nearest store), even if I don't buy anything. But I did not want to end up at "Wally World." I'm not used to St. Louis traffic, so the timing was great because there weren't many maniacs out. And even though I got turned around a few times trying to get to different highways, it was all good.

Somehow or another we wound up in Fenton, MO and some little neighboring "towns." Why do I remember the name Fenton? Cuz while we were driving around it, we stumbled into an adult novelty store. I'm a good girl. Well, I was until recently...but even as a semi-good girl, I'm the wildest girl in my circle of friends. I'm also the only one that's ever been to a sex shop. So we went in and showed our IDs and the salesman asks if he can help us find anything. I wonder what he was thinking, I mean, who comes into an adult novelty store at 2 a.m. on a Tuesday night? What type of thing would they want? Just a look around, apparently. That's the first time I've come out of the novelty store without buying anything. I was sad.

As I headed back to the campus, I kinda got a little turned around...and at 3:30 a cop pulled me over--to ask if I was lost. I hate getting pulled over...not to mention I knew he was behind me and I had been driving under the limit all night just because I wasn't comfortable on the roads yet. He flashed his lights, gave me a heart attack and then asked if I was lost. Probably because it was so early and I was driving like a little lost Granny. The sad thing is, by the time he stopped trailing me and just pulled me over, I'd already found my way back to school. I was about to exit.

So that was my first midnight/early morning adventure. I had to document it well for myself, so...there it be. I'm headed back to sleep.

I have yet to cross the line.

For as long as I can remember, I've only wanted to be an adult. When I turned ten I wanted to be thirteen, at thirteen I wanted to be sixteen and then eighteen. Why? Because at eighteen I would be a legal adult. I could stay up late, go where I pleased, cuss out anyone I felt like and generally do whatever the hell I wanted. Well, I am finally eighteen and I've realized something:

No matter what the law says, I'm not an adult.

Oh, I can buy cigarettes. I can be drafted (can you believe they want to draft girls now?). I can even vote. I have a credit card. I work. I pay bills. I'm in college. But I'm not quite an adult. I'm almost an adult. But not quite.

So what makes an adult? Obviously not all of the aforementioned things...but what? Is there a secret password? Some invaluable piece of knowledge? Will I wake up someday and just realize that I've become a mature, responsible adult? Probably. But hopefully when that day comes I will be able to look back at this Blog and see the process, because that is its intended purpose--to help me cross the line between adolescence and adulthood. Let the journey begin.