Answer: Rudolph

I crumpled up a receipt today and it took a bite out of my skin. I've never experienced this before.

Christmas. Did it even happen? It went by so fast. It was lovely though. I have never felt so happy to feel so fat. The whole day I ate manicotti and stayed in my pjs. It was amazing. I have found the secret to finding happiness (as far as gifts go). This year there wasn't much that I wanted. I didn't make a list. I mentioned things that I would like or that I needed but nothing that I was really hoping for. When gift time rolled around, I wasn't disappointed with anything. I got awkward necklaces and Ratatouille-- and I loved it.

I have the chance to drive a golf cart and get paid to do it. It's exciting just to think about.

There's a guy who comes into work quite often and people call him "Jesus Joseph". Regular customers have nicknames like "Plastic Chris" "Pug Nose" "Lip Gloss". Sure, we know names, but we're most likely to remember nicknames and drinks. Joseph is the type of person to pass out tracks or leave them in seat cushions. Don't get me wrong, it's awesome that he loves Jesus. It's cool that he's bold enough to give someone a track. Hey, I love Jesus just as much as Mary but I don't think Joseph handles people in the best way. I am one of only two people from work that goes to church on a regular basis. My co-workers find Jesus Joe to be arrogant and an idiot. He's a nice guy but he always seems to have an ulterior motive. He has a 'holier than thou' complex and I don't appreciate it. It turns non-Christians off. It turns me off. I just think that the overly-nice attitude and throwing a moral superiority into every conversation isn't the best way to get people saved. I mean, when someone says "Hey, watch your stuff. That lady steals things." His response shouldn't be, "Well, I don't like to talk about people." What? Fine, let her steal your things. Next time I won't be nice and warn you. He's making things harder for me.

Lots of laundry to get done and a room to clean-- Peace out.


I killed a man with this thumb.
--Carmen

Love.

Oh, the things I find when I look through old papers.

"Sometimes I pretend to know what it's like to fall in love-- usually after watching some sappy chick-flick-- because, to be honest, I've never experienced it. I imagine it's like constant happiness. Like a lifetime of sunshine packed into every second. Like the perfect snowfall. Like a good book. Like rain. Like every good thing that makes me smile. It has to be hard. Love. It must be hard deciding who to love, or how much to love, or if it's worth it. But when I imagine it, it has to be worth it. I imagine a heart skipping a beat. Sweaty hands. Stammered words. Loss of breath. Symptoms of a heart attack. I could be wrong about love. Maybe it's ordinary, gradual, almost unnoticeable. I'm no expert, but if I haven't experienced it yet and it's so strived for, there has to be a snowfall/rain/book/sunshine effect; if not, then why would I want it? I have to imagine it's special and something worth waiting for because if it's not, I'll be sorely disappointed. I always viewed love as life changing. Earth shattering. Maybe this is the thinking of a naive girl. Maybe I won't ride in a pumpkin carriage or get awakened from a deep sleep by a kiss but I don't really need this. I just want goose-bumps. Shivers. That startled feeling like when thunder rolls. My brother says he's in love. So does my sister. I think this to be completely bizarre. How do they know what love is? How do I get it? How will I know? What if love isn't like what I'm expecting and I miss it? Wouldn't that be terrible. To miss love. Sometimes I think I'll miss it. Sometimes I think I have missed it. Really, I imagine I'll just know. That stupid "love at first sight", deep down inside I believe this. I hate myself for believing this. I know it's not true and I tell myself it's not true, but I still go on believing it. I like to think I'm entitled to believe this since I've never experienced it. I don't know any better. More than anything, I wish I get it. I'm missing out and I know it. It's too bad there needs to be another person in order to love, because without this person, I'm stuck. Maybe that's what makes it so special. But I want to be unstuck. I want sunshine. I want snow."

--Carmen

Clash-Bang!

...there are no words. Curious to view my grades, I check online and I didn't expect to see any grades posted yet since I notice that professors like to make me sweat (and last I checked I only had my health grade (A)). I got a B in my geology class! I went running around the house with this news. I am so excited! I was hoping to get a C. But I got a B! I... have so much relief in my soul. I seriously thought I was going to fail the class. I... no words could express my happiness. I am so relieved. I am so happy. I am so excited. Permanent. Happiness.

Alright, my ora is clear and it is brimming full of sunshine.

I cut off all my hair. I had probably 7 inches cut off. I'm trying to get it healthy again since I've died it black, brown, blond, red, highlighted, etc. Now it's pretty close to my natural brown and short. Short=shoulders. I think I like it. It's just short.

I'm officially on winter break. I had my last final today--which means I was stuck in a room writing my heart out for over two hours--so I will be sleeping a lot, and working a lot.

Only one more thing to buy and I am done shopping. Well, I have to make one-- but I don't count that. My family is done and that is the hardest part.

I got a B.

Let me tell you about the greatest night of my life. On Saturday my best pal says "Carmen, you have to get Saturday night off so we can go see this show." I don't know... "Carmen, you have to get it off." But that means I have to call people... "Carmen, get it off!" Alright. I will call one person and see if she can switch and... Oh, you can work Saturday night? Uh, yeah, okay, I have Saturday night off. I work from 10-5 and then immediately leave from there to go to Tremont for some clash-bang hardcore music fest. It's 45 degrees outside and it's raining. We drive there and we look through the doors and we had no desire to go in. A big factor was that the band that was playing sucked. Sara, lets get some coffee. We leave and it's raining. We get some coffee. We get some Qdoba. Carmen, throw away your food. We're going to do something amazing. You don't mean...? I throw away my trash and we go jumping through puddles. It was freezing and it was raining and I was soaked all the way up to my waist and that's without exaggerating. I had so much fun. I'll probably get pneumonia but that was honestly one of the funnest nights ever. My shoes are still wet. We kept going into GameStop to "visit John" (which is code for needing a warm place in order to feel our feet so we can go back outside and jump around in the dark.) Old people in McAlister's were smiling at us. It was amazing. We were expecting a different kind of amazing night-- and if we had gone to see the show we would've never had that amazing night.

There's something waxy about a country singer.


When we had diaria it was called "poo poo per doo".
--Carmen

Lord, Help the Mister

I'm amazed at how fast Life likes to move. I was hanging out with Sara last night and she was telling me about how she wrote about me in these blogs back in 2006. What? I knew you back then? I seriously feel like I just started hanging out with her but I've actually been spending every Sunday+ with her for over a year. It makes me feel a little sad. Because that means the ominous 'they' were right. "Time flies." It's only a matter of seconds before I kick that bucket and meet my Maker.

In the mean time, I really do like Sara. I really like Rachel. I really like Graciela. I really like Anna. I really like Eric. I really like Kevin. And I really like how there are an abundance of people out there worth liking. I'm fairly lucky running into a good group of people who are willing to be my friends.

I'm watching White Christmas and that is a big reason as to why I love Christmas.

My whole freaking out/anxiety thing hasn't been too bad. I get small spurts of it and it all relates back to geology. I found the source of my anxiety when I put off my paper until just a few moments ago and I actually didn't feel any urge to freak out--this is a marvelous feeling. So I have finished a 10 page paper, taken a math test, taken my communications exam and taken a culture quiz and I'm still alive! I'm so excited to have exams because that means it's almost over.

Everytime I walk into my room it smells like coffee. One of the best perks at working at a coffee shop.

It was freakishly warm today and I didn't like it.

The more I go to geology the more I freak out. It's a constant reminder of how our planet is falling apart.


Just count your blessings instead of sheep.
--Carmen

That Feeling Right Before Your Brain Dies

The other night I was driving home with my dad. I had just gotten off from work and I was exhausted. It's not busy at all so I'm just cruising and I come to that crazy curve on Idlewild and right when I'm about to cross the bridge a raccoon is about to waltz in front of the vehicle (if you just pictured a dancing raccoon, you have just received 10 bonus points). I'm mentally freaking out, praying to God that the raccoon turns back and thankfully it did and I didn't run it over. I'm running through the events that had just played out and... was that raccoon wearing a red scarf? Guys, I'm not crazy but I could've sworn I saw a red scarf on that raccoon. What's even worse is that it seemed perfectly natural for it to be wearing a scarf. It didn't even dawn on me that that wasn't normal until several minutes later when I ask myself "why wasn't it wearing a matching hat?".

I've been mentally preparing myself for when I start to overload and break down from finals. Finals start on Tuesday and I still haven't received the huge "Oh my gosh I'm going to fail and become a homeless bum and I'll be so poor that I can't buy gum and it'll rain all the time and make my cardboard house deteriorate" thing. Alright, on Friday I went through the whole day of school and I'm ending my school day with geology. I'm sitting on the end of the first row (as I have done since the second week of classes) and I'm listening to my teacher gab about coke and fossil fuels (don't be surprised, this topic isn't so far fetched as most of her topics). "And this is a...? Normal fault." And then it hits me. All the freaking out that was supposed to have hit had finally struck and I'm mentally sweating. All I'm thinking is: What is she talking about? I don't know what she's talking about. I have an exam to take and I don't know what she's talking about. I'm failing this class. I'm failing all my classes. I have a paper due. I have a ten page paper due. I have a math test to fail. I have two math tests to fail. What is she talking about?! I have to pass this class and I don't know what she's talking about! [this is the part where my life flashes before my eyes] What if I don't pass this class?! Why didn't I work harder throughout the semester?! I am the bane of my existence! [this is where I crumple into a pile of sweat, tears and groans] I'm failing at life... *blubber, weep* ...why didn't I try harder...? *moan, tear* ...I hate this... *tears, blubber* and then I carry on with this and stop when all my makeup has attractively traveled from my face to the floor. Then I get anxiety-- and I mean massive anxiety-- until I get through all of my exams. All of this is happening as I listen to a lecture on natural gases getting trapped by shale. The anxiety isn't that bad right now-- but it'll set in when I start realizing that I should've done more.

It is 1:22am and I have to wake up in 7 hours. So, happy exam-anxiety to all and to all a good blubbering.

--Carmen

Pointless.

"We thought by this we should be eaten by these ugly men." -Equiano: The Interesting Narrative

If you've ever read Swift's A Modest Proposal, "baby back ribs" has a whole new meaning.

Math is the bane of my existence. I just spent an hour doing the homework and I still have to finish my math lab and I have a lab to do in class tomorrow. Numbers are the devil's minions.

I kept thinking today was Friday. It made me really sad because I was then reminded that it wasn't. One of the worst feelings is thinking you have the weekend, and then have it suddenly ripped away.

Me: You could tame the lions.
Graciella: Good, cause I'm a Leo. So I'm right there.
*Everyone needs a Graciella to sit next to. She's funny and I want to carry her with me. We both have asthma so we have a bond*

--Carmen

I don't hate you. I just don't like you.

If I haven't stated this enough, or if I haven't stated it at all: I'm just a kid. It doesn't matter my age, how tall I am; it all comes down to my secret desire to find Neverland. I might sound crazy (in fact I do sound crazy) but this is just something that needed to be said.

"Don't give me that attitude, you guys. I'm doing it all for you." -Bobby (A Goofy Movie)

Believe it or not, I don't like people very much. Some have labeled me as "angry" "vicious" or even "hostile". As you can see, I am a very complimented person. Throughout the semester I will pick out certain people in my classes and decide as to who I am going to make silent death threats against. This isn't a very difficult process; just the first person who annoys me to the point of wanting to throw them off a hot air balloon ride and strategically position an assortment of strategically placed kitchen utensils under their fall. I can usually pick this person out within the first 20 minutes or so. If I'm lucky and if there is a big class, I can find two, or even three, if it's a really good day (some classes I'm blessed with 79% who make me want to cause bodily harm to others. This semester it was geology. Lucky me.). Actually, I'm not a mean person, and my anger towards certain individuals is not unwarranted-- usually they really are idiots. How do I know this? Well, aside from my amazing skills with weeding out the weak and dumb, I convince those I sit next to to back me up. So, today, in British Lit I was split up with the Catholic-home schooler and Esque. The Catholic-home schooler I have no problem with. I was, in fact, home schooled so I feel a very strong bond with her. You may have noticed, so strong a bond that I don't know her name. However, Esque I have a deep loathing for (the name "Esque" originates from his over use of this tag line. "Dante-esque" "Roman-esque" "physiologic-esque"). He's just an idiot. I'm even semi-nice to the guy (meaning, I didn't spit in his eye. I was aggressively sarcastic, but I didn't spit in his eye). But the whole point of this entire story is that I said something clever, he laughed at it, said "nicely worded" and it gave me no joy! Stupid people who laugh at smart-funny things should not laugh at them because, chances are, they don't get it. There's a whole other level that is intended with these comments and people like Esque are lowering them. All I'm saying is, people like that should be shot.

Go to YouTube and search Flight of the Conchords. They'll make you laugh and cry in the best ways.

"Coffee (which makes politician wise, and wee through all things with half-shut eyes)" -Rape of the Lock
--Carmen

The Dark Side Usually Takes Over.

These days have been draining me to the point of feeling exhausted all the time. I can't even answer "How are you" without saying, "tired". I realized I'm always tired, stressed and dreading exams. This has made me wonder if I've been happy at all during this tired-stressed out-dread state of mind-- and the answer is yes; I have been happy and even though I have a constant knot inside my stomach from putting off my paper, I'm doing okay.

Ex. 1: My brother is my #1 favorite person on this planet. I miss him. For the first time in probably two months I got the chance today to see his face, sit on his smelly futon and watch anime clips off of YouTube. Even though this was only for a half an hour and I have zero desire watching anime, I was so happy and content. I never see him anymore and I don't like it. It makes me appreciate those few moments that I do get to spend with him. We sit and talk about my man-pants and look up swords on the internet. Sometimes he tells the longest stories that aren't interesting, but I miss that too. Maybe I'm sad and a little pathetic, but just seeing my brother and hanging out with him was the highlight of my week. I love him. It's too bad that we aren't as close as we could be.

Ex. 2: I love my sister just as much as my brother but in a completely different way. She's four years my senior and we don't have the same connection that I have with my brother (who is only a year older). I love my sister; we don't always get along but I wouldn't trade her for the world. Things have been getting rough for her and it's very unfortunate that there are people in this world who purposely hurt her. This doesn't settle well with me and I don't mess around with people who mess around with my family. I love them, no matter our differences, how angry we get with each other, or how much we do or don't talk. If you mess with my sister: meet me in the mall, it's going down. And, no, I'm not happy that she is in this situation but I am very happy that my family will come together and go to the mattresses for one another. We tight. My family is awesome.

Ex. 3: I don't always get along with my parents. I love them to death and I am actually very proud of them because I usually give them a rough time, but last night I just sat with them and talked. Not in a formal or uncomfortable way but... just hung out. I love my dad: he laughs at my jokes; I love my mom: she gives dad looks for eating too loudly. We're all pretty crazy and it feels like we hardly ever get along but there come some times when it's just natural. I love them a lot too.

Ex. 4: The library makes me very happy. I went on an adventure at school today and I discovered I love the school's library. There are probably only 5 novels (all by Tolkien) and then the other 3 floors are filled with books from the 60's. I just went wandering around and I felt cool. Maybe this makes me a massive nerd, but it's one of the greatest feelings. I just wandered around, bopping to an unknown tune in my head and looked at books about tattoos, weddings, vogue, decoding, suicide, and it was good. Hah. I really am a dork.

I'm not going to list anymore examples for I have realized that with all this dread there is a whole lot of positive. Okay, so I had to go to geology today but I also saw this guy with dreadlocks all the way to his bum. Good things happen all the time, I'm just too dumb to realize it.


If I could speak with the tongue of men and of angels
--Carmen

It Was A Crime Of Passion!

Today I believe I committed one of the biggest fashion crimes that can ever be committed and it felt awesome. I had yoga today so I dress in appropriate attire; I bought man-sweat pants for 4.77 and they are the most comfortable pants I have ever worn and ever will wear (in fact, I plan on being buried in these pants). Back to my point: These pants have the elastic in the cuffs, which makes them terrible and terrific at the same time (these are actually the same type of sweats I used to wear when I was a kid. Except they were fuchsia, not baggy, and had matching sweatshirts). Anyway, what kind of shoes does one wear with these awkward elastic cuffed pants? Sandals! Not just any sandals but the sandals that once belonged to my brother and the same sandals that I've kept alive since I was thirteen. Oh yes. Not so bad yet? Here's the kicker: I wore socks. Not black socks that would make sense with gray and black sandals (which, incidentally, doesn't make sense at all since no one should ever wear socks with sandals) but hippy socks made of green and yellow all woven into a puke colored sock. And that, my friends, is what yoga is all about.

There is a fellow who occasionally sits next to me in communications and I have a feeling he doesn't know how to keep his mouth shut. At least when it comes to woman. I have heard over seven different stories about seven different girls that he almost had. The most recent was some Spanish beauty he only sees when he drives but if he ever had the chance he would *censored* (and "Spanish beauty" is a term I formed. His was a phrase that should have been used in the company of sailors instead of two females). He talks to me like I'm one of the guys and he blurts out information as if it's supposed to get me going. He speaks as if I'm supposed to be impressed that he "almost got booty an hour ago". In fact, I'm going bet he hasn't ever gotten booty because out of all the stories I've heard not one of them has had a... happy ending. I have a lot of friends who share things with me but-- shazam! I don't need to know about your sexual practices and who you would or would not "do" and why you would or wouldn't want to "do" them.

Hm.


I just came to make sure he's dead.
--Carmen

Confession: I don't know the difference between "then" and "than"

Jason Upton is the man.

Since 3:30 I have been doing math. In case you don't get the impact of this statement: that is three and a half hours. Three and a half hours. My brain is mush.

Hillsong would be the man, if it were a man.

From God Above. Listen to this. It's amazing. It's still awesome with a brain made of mush. It's happy music with a hint of dancing. It makes my angry-math mood into an un-angry-math mood.

Only a week and a half left of classes, then a week of exams. It's going to suck, but it'll be over. Despite my anxiety with my current classes, I'm excited about next semester. I'm not taking any fun classes, but it's the start of something new and I'm ready for the start of anything new.

Recently, I've seriously considered running away to the circus.

I've decided the summer is going to be amazing. Working with the summer theatre program at school, working at Caribou, road trips and camp counselor. I have a depressing math class to take, too, but I'll get over it.

Amongst all the homework, tests, quizzes and papers I have to have done fairly soon, I also have to write a 500 word essay on why Catawba wants me at their school. Since my math skills are seriously lacking, I guess I'll just write the essay on my sparkling personality and an unnatural love for cheese.


And why can't 51 yr. olds have kids?
--Carmen

Don't Bring A Knife To A Gun Fight

I've noticed there are some people who never cease to disappoint. It's such a frequent occurrence that I have learned not to depend on them. It's a sad thing when a person has the power to continually convince me to believe in them and continually lets me down. It happened today, and I knew it would, yet I always think "Oh, So-and-so will be here. So-and-so can't do this all the time." And who didn't show up? So-and-so. Sad to say, I'm more disappointed in myself for believing that this person would actually prove me right and show up. I always think the best of people, even those who don't give me reason to think this, and this is what gets me into trouble. Honestly, I haven't relied on anyone in a very, very long time. But, for some reason, this person has the power in making me think they will give me reason to believe in them. However, they have been so continuously unreliable that I have lost all trust in them. How does this person keep letting me down?

I love coffee.

I don't want to go back to school. I have so much to do and I don't want to do it. Just one more semester and I'll have a degree. This is the only thing that keeps me from dropping it all and moving to Europe.

I love books. I'm covering my wall with shelves so that they can be filled with books. Right now I have a fairly big shelf and I'm running out of space. I don't just love to read books, but I love looking at them. And the smell. I like naked books, not the ones covered in sleeves. Those are ugly. I love the gold lettering against the dull, dried leaf colored binding. The best gift I got for my birthday was $20 to buy 75 cent books from Salvation Army. $250 worth of books for under $20. Books never go out of style.

Thank God for pastors that will dissect details that are so worth noticing but I'm prone to overlook. I learn so much from this. I should probably start looking into details like this because I get excited learning cool things like this.

I got a free peppermint mocha but it didn't have an affect on me that a free coffee should. Something felt a little underhanded about it.


The turtle turned and shamed me.
--Carmen

To Sum Up In 9 Minutes.

I'm so glad I have a friend that I can express my every secret with but not have to.

Jesus never ceases to amaze me.

Been restless since 4am.

Music is worth its weight in gold.

I want to be a hippy.

Dressed to impress, but for who?

I think I miss her even though I know I won't see her again.

I want him to see he could be the start of something good.

My skin is aching from the weather. Itching is unpleasant.


[Spellcheck for hippy: Happy, happy, hippo, hip, hipper]
--Carmen

Stalling With Words For Time

To start, I really hate using the bathroom. I don't know if this is normal, but I find it a waste of time and sometimes it hits during the most inopportune moments.

Listen to The Almost. They're inspirationally delicious.

I should be applying makeup to my face before I attend a Thanksgiving meal with the Pattersons but I feel the need to sit in front of this screen and write about things unimportant to everyone except myself--and even then I don't find it too important. The Patterson's are a family of two adults and a million children with identical features, midget voices and they range from 9 years - 11 months. I'm not too excited about this because there is a small chance I could step on a small child (there are so many kids that they litter the floors). The only reason I'm partially pumped about attending is the chance for people to see my jeans. Yes, I know, I'm obsessed with the jeans. They just make me feel... pretty.


You loved that lamb
with every sinful bone
and there you wept alone
--Carmen

Thanks, God, for the jeans woven with the silver lining of the clouds.

Nothing lifts ones self esteem like a good pair of fitting jeans. I went on a mission for at least a pair of jeans that weren't mom-jeans and didn't have any of those awkward stains on the butt that looks like someone sat in paint. However, I don't like those low-rise jeans that reveal that oh, so, flattering butt cleavage and I do like it when they look a little worn in. Turns out, no one in America makes jeans that are like this.

(Side note: I'm watching one of the dumbest teen shows. I'm laughing quite a bit.)

I refuse to spend (a lot) of money on a pair of jeans that have an odd crotch and don't touch the floor. Trust me, that crotch thing happens more than necessary. I'm at Kohls (the store of the gods) and I grab three pairs of jeans at a time and go into the dressing room. Eh, one was okay-- lets grab another three and try those on-- Meh, $15... I guess-- I'll grab three more pairs. Then lo and behold, there were a pair of jeans on the end of a rack that I'm sure were positioned there by God Himself. I put them on-- Hallelujah!-- they flare so much that they swallow my feet, the butt looks awesome and they aren't those low, low riders. They do have that dumb wrinkle stain by the pockets but I can over look this because I lose my feet in them! It's awesome.

What's even better is that I had money to buy this. I always feel like I'm poor but I'm doing fairly well for myself and it feels amazing buying jeans and not feeling guilty. I also got some cheap sweat pants, amazing mascara, an extremely ugly necklace that I've been eyeballing for awhile and a hair dryer. Yay! Dry hair!

A complete change of subject: It doesn't feel like Thanksgiving since there was an amazing Turkey Treat in Maryland just last weekend. However, this lack of feeling is not going to change my thankfulness. Check it out: for thirty days write down five things you are grateful for-- and don't write down the same five things everyday (ie My family, my dog, my bed, my house and those squirrely next door neighbors). When you do this, it feels like Thanksgiving all year round.

Mercy is found in the oddest places. That's why I'm always in the oddest places.
--Carmen


Man, I am feeling good with these jeans.

Computers Are The Devils Work

I'm a diligent student. I turn my homework in on time. I show up to class. I try to participate. I'm occasionally smart. So why is this computer hindering me of this?! Math is (I'm almost sure of it) from hell; maybe the second level. I'm not amazing with it but I do try and I'm not failing the class. Thanksgiving break is soon arriving and my thought is that since I'll be eating on Thursday, out all morning/day shopping then working on Friday, sleeping and working on Saturday and having Jesus time on Sunday, I'll just knock out any homework that I can while I'm on campus so that I won't have to worry about it later. I enter the computer lab, pick one of my favorite computers (yes, I have a specific type of computer I go for) and situate myself, ready to attack whatever math I can before my sister gets here. I get through half of the problems and then-- zap-- the computer turns into the spawn of Satan and eats away at the screen. No... wait, stop! Warning boxes pop up-- Retry-- Try Again-- No-- No-- Retry-- Submit-- Yes-- No! Stop doing that! I'm trying to be a good person! Alas, I have completed 7 out of 30 problems. My efforts are lost and now, I realize, this is the reason why I procrastinate.

Write This Down

I over slept and had 15 minutes to get ready this morning. I always think I need an hour to get ready so it's surprising to me when I accomplish things in a quarter of the time I assume it should be (even though I have over slept many times and even set the record for 5 minutes).

The kid who sits next to me decided to inform me that he had to write a short story. "Better get writing." He let a long pause go by and I suppose when he realized I didn't care he added. "Fiction."

I hate it when people try to get me to talk to them by continually talking-- as if what they were saying sounded interesting-- and I don't like to appease them a lot. "What's it about?" I humored him.

"Well..." If one is attempting to egg me on and start a conversation he/she should be prepared. I ask a straight forward question, there shouldn't be a non-straight forward response. He flips his pages back and forth (a page, front and back) and lets me know that it's about a vacuum salesman with a boring life and then it doesn't become boring. "I have to end it though. I think he might die."

"He needs to die. It's the only ending that would make sense." Hm. "Have you ever seen Stranger Than Fiction?"

"Yeah."

I nod. The story that he just described to me is the same story played out in the movie theatres except without having the underlying story (which is the part that actually makes it interesting) or any clever element.

"I kind of stole from that," he continued, "and, have you ever read The Alchemist?"

"No. But I have heard of it."

"And I kind of used that, too."

Hm. Plagiarism or no longer having anything new to write?

When I was younger I started writing a book. I never finished it but it was more than several pages. Now, the same basic plot in my ten-year-old writing is now the hit TV show "Lost".

I have an 8-10 page paper to write before December 10 and it's not working out too well considering I haven't written any of it. It's on a sonnet of Shakespeare which-- I know it makes me a freak-- is something I find quite interesting (Shakespeare is a brilliant fellow). Though I find it interesting, I don't find it helpful to write 8 pages of words that won't effect me and probably isn't anything new to my professor. I would love to get into a class that lets me write. Lets me write whatever I want. Communication, The Fearie Queene, fossiliferous rocks. Who cares? In twenty years no one is going to care if I understood the foreshadowing of Una.

25 and never had a girlfriend? How unfortunate.
--Carmen

Turkey Treat = All That Is Good

We're leaving this place tomorrow afternoon and I really don't want to. This has been an amazing weekend. I love my family a lot. I've never really thought about people with a family they didn't like-- I feel kind of sorry for them. I work with someone with a family he doesn't like. It makes me want to bring him to Turkey Treat; let him experience what it feels like to have a family to like. I can't even imagine not having these people to come home to. Even though I don't see them often, it makes me feel better knowing they're around. I'm a lucky person. I don't want to sound cheesy-- but I'm fairly blessed.

I feel like I weigh 2300 pounds. I've eaten so much (which is the best part of coming up here) and when I attempt to walk I end up just rolling onto my side and swaying back and forth without going anywhere. It's kind of a great feeling aside from the massive pains in my stomach from gluttony.


Three little angels all went to
--Carmen

Yeah, we're gonna shoot cows.

On Tuesday morning at approximately 8:09am I received a free gift card to Starbucks. Chad asked, "That's karma, right?" I said, "No, no, Chad. That's Jesus."


A chap from my class danced on me on multiple occasions in the library. What made it even more awkward is that I was talking with my mom as he was doing this.

Leaving for Turkey Treat in less than 24 hours. I'm so excited. This trip is going to be amazing. I get to see my family and be myself without thinking twice.

I had a bizarre feeling that people were talking about me. I don't like that.

Gave my speech on sarcasm today and I definitely thought I would bomb it, however, I didn't. It was pretty amazing. People kept coming up and saying, "Your speech was really good." Unfortunately, I'm pretty sure they were just exercising the entire point of my speech. [insert frowny face here]

Did I mention I'm so excited about going to Maryland?

I haven't done any laundry or packing and we're leaving tomorrow. I get home from school at about one and that only leaves me with about fours hours to do laundry (which might sound like a lot of time, but when there are two other people doing laundry, yelling, cleaning and stressing out-- it's not much time).

I'm so exhausted and my eyes are failing me.


"I can't say ditto right after something I said. Ditto."
--Carmen

Depression Caused By Lack Of Sleep. Enter At Own Risk.

It's amazing to me how one small, tiny, stupid thing can send your life spiraling into the toilet. My emotions are the symbolic crap in the toilet of life. It makes me feel so dumb. Not just dumb, but childish. And this hit me on the way home from work tonight and I wanted to cry. Put on some Miles Davis and just sob. This situation isn't a big deal, don't worry, no one died-- but it's the small things that make me angry. I just feel dumb and stupid. And what makes me even more angry is that I don't like to cry. I find this pointless-- which makes me feel even more dumb because I seriously wanted to tonight. Sometimes I feel like poop.

I'm not one to share personal things out on this world wide blog but I get into fits of loneliness. I don't like it. Recently I've been told stories of "I just told God, 'it's all Yours' and then He gave me [fill in persons name here]." Why can't I have that? He knows all my thoughts and concerns but where's my [fill in persons name here]? I just don't know what to do. I went to an event recently-- and no lie-- everyone my age or older was with someone. Wow, I'm sounding desperate (I promise I'm not); I've just been happily single for so long I would like to be happily something-other-than-single.

I saw him die
he's never looked this way
I saw in his eyes
he's never coming down
Saosin

Food for thought: Shakespeare is amazing. I feel sorry for those out there without the chance to experience this. Pure genius. I love reading his works. I find myself praying to God for a chance to be half as clever as Shakespeare in my entire life than he was in one line. Just brilliance. Talking about this lifted my mood by twenty points. Amazing.


"I have a high respect for anyone going into the arts." P.G.
--Carmen

Procrastination At It's Finest.

And I'm back. The usual Sunday routine was interrupted by some unforeseen circumstances so I've been home all afternoon. Know what I've done with most of the afternoon? Absolutely nothing. I have tons and tons of homework that needs to get accomplished, however, I'm not the type of person to get things done in a timely fashion. Now, I'm not a fan of being fashionably late but I am a fan of being almost fashionably late. So, I'm postponing this work until I can properly freak out at around midnight and deal with it in a hurried blunder.

To continue my procrastination, I'm going to tell a story. My feet are flippin freezing. After church, I had lunch and then got on the computer so that I can catch up on normal computer things (meaning things unrelated to homework). As I'm sitting here, I am frozen. Not even just a little chilly-- freezing. Maybe... maybe the heat isn't on. I look at the thermostat-- 62 degrees. Holy saint Francis. I've been sitting in 62 degrees for two hours. Who sets the thermostat that low?! I'm not Iceman. I don't like cold weather that much. As I think about this, I'm pretty sure it's a conspiracy. Someone hates me and they're attempting to stop me in my tracks by freezing me from the inside out. It's pretty smart thinking-- I'm a dangerous person.

If I could have anything it would be a good happy ending.


I love you, that's all.
--Carmen

How can you promise your heart when it's always searching?

Jesus is amazing. It's awesome that those three words sum up everything I am feeling. I just committed a good portion of money to Elevation and it feels so good. I was kind of freaking out at the time-- I mean, I'm a college student paying my own way through college, soon transferring to a very expensive school, saving up for a car, paying for insurance, my phone-- Honestly, I'm struggling with my current expenses. But when I was sitting there, staring at this commitment card, I wanted to give all of it to Jesus. I wrote down a figure that seemed insane to me but I was so excited to give it! I just... Jesus is amazing.

--Carmen

I don't like the implications they're giving me.

Tonight is going to be great. I can feel it. I get to see my kids and my people. I know what you guys are thinking. "Pfft, Carmen, why are you so excited about this? It was just a week of camp." No. That was the best week I had over the summer. I love those kids. It was over before I knew it. I mean, my cabin was next to Phillip and Tyler, how could that not be the best week?

"And they have to deal with all the imaginary stuff. Like, rogue unicorns."

Andrew, thanks for the candy.


--Carmen

Am I old or are you just getting younger?

Well, kids (and I believe I warrent the use of 'kids'), I feel extremely young but I know it just means I'm getting old. Here's a sure sign that I'm getting old, I'm excited over it but disappointed at the same time: I will graduate by the end of the summer. Yeah, I know, it's crazy, right? I wasn't expecting it to sneak up on me so much. I'm so excited over this but this is just one step closer to adulthood and I don't like it. My biggest fear isn't dying, it's growing up.

I've found my standard. I mean, how I know when I'm grownup. I know I'm grownup when I pass up the chance to jump on bubble wrap. This realization came to me when I and the 'bou crew were setting up Christmas decorations and there were sheets of bubble wrap and I was the only one with the uncontrollable urge to pop them. In fact, when all was said and done, I laid that bubble wrap on the floor and did a small song and dance routine. Everyone stared, but now I know-- they're all grownup and just don't understand.

Starbucks and nothing tonight. I'm actually muchly content on this routine I have on Fridays and Sundays. Sundays are the best: Church (What's better than Jesus?), Qdoba (I've been informed that it's "my place" so I'm taking advantage of that), random crap in between (this could range from buying pants to getting hair cuts), end at Starbucks (a blessing from God), then I get home early enough to get my school junk together. It's pretty amazing. Friday's are the condensed version of the above-- which means coffee. However, Fridays are also concert night so this varies. Usually there will be a month of coffee and then three months of shows, etc.

Saw Dearly Beloved dress rehearsal last night-- very good. I suggest seeing it. And holy saint francis, last night was fun. My theatre friends are crazy and my home school friends viewed this and... it was great. Brixx, thanks for being open til 1.

Lots of exciting things happening. Tomorrow is the reunion for Camp Questiers and I can't wait. I've been looking forward to this all week. Yay for favorite summer activities!

Despite lots of homework, tests, papers and procrastination, life is pretty awesome. Good things. Good life(ish).


Yum, crotch-fries, my favorite.
--Carmen

If I could be any superhero

I would be Rogue. You know, from xmen. But I'm not talking about the current Rogue. Not the pansy one from the most recent movies-- no, the old school cartoon Rogue with the crazy hair and the awesome jacket. It's so sad that the creaters of the movies took that special wonder that she had and made her dependent. That flying, moody wonder she had. Oh, Rogue.

Today has been pretty good. Slept in, only had to take a math test, got some Starbucks (oh, yes), and pretty soon I'll be going into work.

I really wish something would happen. Life seems a little... routine. School and work. I always expect things to happen. Great things to happen. And I don't even know what these great things are but they never happen yet I'm expecting them to! Why won't they happen?! I'm waiting and willing-- and nothing! There are only occasional great things. Like when Rachel and I happened upon Carolina Theatre. That's never happened before and that theatre is never open and that's one of the greatest things that has happened. But I need more than just an occasional great thing. It makes me so sad because currently I have nothing going for me. School is killing me and the only thing that is keeping me going is knowing that in less than a year I can leave this place and start something new (where I assume great things will happen). I really wish life would be thrown into a Boggle box and perhaps spell out words like "e-s-c-a-p-e" rather than "s-t-u-c-k h-e-r-e f-o-r-e-v-e-r".

I think I'm going to become a hippy.


Resistance is futile.
--Carmen

The World Needs To End.

I've been sitting in front of this computer for the past two hours trying to put together an outline for my sarcasm speech, citing sources and adding last minutes articles to my folder. It makes my brain hurt. This hour thing is throwing me off. Really, it's 11 and this is insane. I'm so tired. I've reached the point of melting mush taking the place of where my brain once resided.

That's a pretty terrible way to end the day but before this point my day was pretty amazing. Church was fantastic. Amazing things happened-- unbelievable things. I need to buy jeans (That statement have nothing to do with the amazing things, I just need jeans.). I had lunch with my mom-- that was good. Got Sara help with her hair, it looks amazing because of me. Got me some coffee and did nothing. It was great. I found out that I love Sundays. It's my only day to just... watch BBC.

I don't know if anyone else feels like life just stands still. I love Sundays because I do nothing, I don't like life because it does nothing.

Before I go, I thought I should inform you all that Pepe`, a beloved chihuahua to us all, died the other night. He was dismantled by a lawn mower. RIP Pepe`.

Most quote-able quote of the month: "If I had balls, I'd let you
grab them."

--Carmen

This could be a long day. Better grab a muffin.

Today was kind of a tough day. First of all, I feel like I'm down with the sickness. I think it's the sudden weather change. I don't like it. I like the cold weather, just not the sickness. But good news: I got an A on my last math test. I was pretty nervous about it. I'm still a little nervous about it. I always feel awkward when people ask me about my grades. But that A made me forget about my tight head and slightly stuffy nose for about two minutes and forty-three seconds.

Got some studying in for my communications test. Even better, I got some coffee while I was studying. It's amazing how happy coffee makes me. I feel sick, coffee is always there to make me better.

Thus far my day doesn't sound too bad. However, my brother bailed on me. We've been planning on seeing Saosin, alexisonfire and Norma Jean for a little less than a month. He decides he can't get home until 8 when the show starts at 7. Right, that sounds smart, lets miss and hour and a half of the show. So, that pretty much sucked all the okay things out of my day.


Murder makes the heart grow fonder.
--Carmen

A first.

There have been so many frustrating situations with blogs, I've decided to start a new. Blogspot is an old friend of mine and even if no one reads this, I feel better knowing that my opinions can reach someone-- whether they care or not.

I'll probably return later to update on my exciting life, however, communication and health homework awaits.

--Carmen