Observations.

I just love it when I go to school, attend an 8:30 math class, study from 9:30-10:30 before geology and upon arriving to the door of my geology class reading a sign letting me know that class would not be in session. It's always a delight.

I have received some very exciting news! It seems that our mechanic, Tripp, has found a vehicle that is in my price range and in pretty good condition. That's just about all I know for the time being-- just keep praying that it will work out.

Match-maker, Match-maker, make me a match. Find me a find. Catch me a catch.

When I was at Starbucks this morning, reading Creative Loafing, I was able to witness male stupidity at its finest. The guy who was conversing with a girl in a yellow shirt he used the term, "Just to hear my own voice" but he wasn't joking. And then he goes, "You know, I think the term 'good fit' is something that would perfectly describe us." She was telling him about her school and he follows it with, "I'm excited. Not for you going to school, but for us." Oh. My. Goodness. I almost laughed out loud on three different occasions. He even told her that he has "two winter drinks". What? I feel sorry for that girl. What's worse, those 45 minutes that I was sitting there, they didn't laugh once. That's very depressing and very unfortunate. I love to laugh. Why doesn't he make her laugh? Because he's an idiot of the humorless variety.


"I'll be wearing a little, bitty skirt. So, when I bend over heaven and earth will be filled with my glory."
Carmen.

Provolone

If you know me, even just a little, you might have noticed my unnatural love of cheese. All kinds of it. Today I got a healthy portion of it. It's my mom's birthday (Happy Birthday, Mom!) and since I had the afternoon off I thought it vital to take her to the movies. We occasionally go to the dollar theatre and watch a chick flick because, by that point, no one else wants to see it. Okay, I'm cheap and I'm willing to wait a year to see a movie just so it only costs me 2 dollars for a ticket. Plus, I think my mom is the only one who understands that I'm still a kid, so she'll humor me and see kid movies. And I'm pretty sure she might still be a kid, too.

Today was kid movie day. No, I didn't see The Pirates Who Don't Do Anything (although I will at some point), but I saw Enchanted. If anyone loves cheesy movies I would suggest this movie a hundred times over. It had every element of the classic Disney fairy tale and all things that are good. It put me in a great mood. You're a fool is you think you're too good for this movie. It was great. It gives me hope that one day I, too, can start singing in the middle of the street and have everyone join in.

On to my next point: Patrick Dempsey is waxy.

I've been dreaming of a True Love's kiss.

Carmen.

The Funeral Baked Meats

Death is abrupt and rude. It's a bizarre concept, really. No longer existing. And I don't believe it has a lasting impression on people even though many spend some part of their life worrying or thinking about death. For example, celebrities are immortalized and are the ones who will last forever, right? Heath Ledger had the nation in an uproar over his death/suicide, but has anyone thought about him since? I doubt it. This is too bad. The idea of death doesn't seem real and is very abstract. Even though I never met the guy it still surprises me when I revisit his death. It's so unreal.

Death kind of scares me. It shouldn't, because I know where I'll be going, but it still scares me. It mostly scares me because that's when Doubt manipulates and twists its self in a way that causes me worry. Why? Maybe it's because death is the ultimate unknown. "What if" seems to be the weapon of choice when Doubt wants me to think twice. That's what scares me. That I don't know for sure and I think I should. It scares me that He thinks I'm doubting Him. It also scares me because I love too many people. It's too bad that I'll spend my entire life learning to love people and then being taken from them or them from me. What's worse, there are people I know I won't see ever again. I believe in Jesus. I believe in heaven. So I know that those who also believe in Him and accept Him, I will see one day after death. However, my heart breaks for those I won't see there. That's a really scary thing. All those people... It scares me a lot. It's not fair that I have a very limited time to reach the world.

death
-noun
1. the act of dying; the end of life; the total and permanent cessation of all the vital functions of an organism.

Feed Jane Fonda to the Whales.
Carmen.

Be Quiet. People Studying.

Oh, crap. You know that lazy thing I was/am in? I strongly discourage everyone from doing it. Laziness is a disease and the only cure is a swift kick in the butt. I have a math lab tomorrow and a health test to take tomorrow or Friday and there has been zero studying on my part except for thirty minutes of defining words like "calorie" and "high density lipoproteins". Those thirty minutes were cut short from a gal laughing at some dumb guy's mumbles. This was just a thought, I always considered the library as a place of quiet and study, but maybe it's evolved into a place of giggling, flirting, eating, disrupting, music playing and rampaging. Mm. I love not being able to have a place to study anywhere on campus.

Greensleeves was all my joy.

Carmen.

Sickly Sinning

I'm feeling lazy. This isn't a new thing either. I've been feeling lazy off and on for about a week. My room is a mess, I've done close to zero homework, I don't even want to think about going to work. I want to get out of this.

I think I'm getting sick again. That sucks, right? I just got over a really terrible virus and to get sick again would be terrible. I have a sore throat again and I'm so exhausted. Going to bed at 10 didn't help last night either. I'm still tired and would love to go to sleep.

In order to get myself out of this state of dulldrum/invalidism I've challenged myself to list 5 things I'm excited about. Cheesy? Oh, yes.

1. Sunday I'll be finding a small group to be apart of. Last time all the small groups met on all the days I had to work and not one of them was less than 30 minutes away. I'm feeling very positive about this grouplink.
2. Actually, I'm just excited about Sundays in general. I've realized it's my favorite day. I love going to church. I wish everyone were as excited about Jesus as I am.
3. I'll (hopefully) be going to the Upper Room to see Jeff play one last time. I'm not excited about Jeff leaving the band, but excited to hear them play.
4. I got a 90 on my last math test. That's crazy. This isn't false modesty, but I thought I would've gotten a 70. Lately I've been thinking that maybe I'm not bad at math-- I'm pretty sure I just never gave it the chance until now.
5. This might sound a bit vague, but I'm excited about the unknown. Sometimes I get these feelings like something good will happen-- not that something good really ever happens when I get this feeling-- but it's a feeling that has got me excited.
6. I'm listing a sixth for good measure-- I'm excited about love. All kinds of it. I seem to find it in the most unsuspecting places. I seem to have more love in one area than another, but I'm not sure that's possible. Let's just say I'm ready for it. I'm open to it. Bring it on. It doesn't seem right to pick and choose what types of love I'm offered and I'm a snob if I only want a certain kind.

Carmen.

"What's the time...?

Well, it's got to be close to midnight." --Rent

It's 9:17 and I feel as though my body has been deprived of sleep since January. I normally don't get this exhausted but tonight I've got it bad. Maybe it's because the show is finally over. Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat is finished. No more costumes. No more arrogant actors. No more laundry-- well, sort of. I always miss a show after it's dead and gone but with this one I'm kind of relieved. If you didn't already know this, people do bad things in theatre. I mean, every bad thing you can think of happens. Smoking (everything), drinking (during performances), affairs, loads of gossip, people will break up, people will hook up, this isn't even the half of it-- nothing is off limits. This is kind of the reason why I don't like being around people of this nature consistantly. I mean, I love it and that's why I'm going to make this my career but if I don't have that one person, that one friend who doesn't drink, or smoke, or whatever, I'll feel myself sinking. Does that make sense? If I have someone to keep me grounded-- even if I only see them once a week-- it makes me feel better.

Everyone should watch Sweeney Todd. I just viewed it last Saturday and this gives me another opprotunity to love Johnny Depp in a different way. This movie made me realize that if a guy can sing, I will willingly give myself to him. Ha. I just sounded like a floozy.

My head is throbbing and I'm not really sure what I'm typing. It's crazy that I've had coffee this morning, more coffee tonight and I am still exhausted. I don't like it none. And I have school tomorrow. I am so tired.

I don't like it when new earrings break.


Carmen.

These Days

I have a lot of friends. Sometimes I forget this. I forget it because I'm usually too busy to hang out with them. Recently I've been making time for them and this is nice. And even those who I hadn't planned to see, I see at work or school. It is so very nice.

Riding the light rail is so spiritual. Heh. Not really. Today was the day to ride the train with Emily and Heather ZhAlexa. It was amazing. There were many pictures taken and many laughs shared. I had lots of fun. We even walked in the rain.

If there were enough letters on this keyboard to express my utter anger I would use them all a thousand times over. I don't like it when people mess with my friends. Even more, I don't like it when people mess with my family. It makes me so mad that he continually proves himself to be an idiot and in the process makes my sister look bad. Even more important, he wasted her time when should could have been with someone who wasn't such a [censored] jerk. Some people are very disappointing.


Stand clear, doors closing.
Carmen.

The Written Word.

I've been enjoying Emery quite a bit lately.

Almost everyday I have an hour break between classes and, like the nerd that I am, I spend it in the library. Today I discovered something in the library. Even more specific, in the library bathroom. There was a sign that read:

"Please do not
urinate in the
trash can.

Thank you"

Um? I guess that's one of the biggest issues the bathrooms have encountered as of late. That poor trash can...

I find the library fascinating. There are so many random books and almost all of them were published in the '70s. After reading that frightening sign in the bathroom, my intension was to go to the third floor and continue reading "The Plot That Thickened" by P.G. Wodehouse-- I suggest reading his stuff. A clever fellow. However, I was interrupted by this huge section of books about marijuana, crack, drugs, cocaine-- my favorite was "Why Marijuana Should Be Legal"-- and I couldn't pass it up. I was reading this book called "Crackhouse", an ethnographer lived in this crackhouse and wrote a book on it. It was amazing. Star Trek has been forever changed.

Hm. I should probably stop educating myself with random books because, now that I think about it, the things I've read about this semester is the loch ness monster, dust, case studies of mass murderers, photographs of the midwest in the early '80s, and the most recent, drugs. What have I learned from this? Nessie is real and if you dismantle a cat when you're young you'll dismantle people when you're older.


Beam me up, Scotty.
Carmen.

Feelings.

This is a scary topic (at least for me) and I don't suggest reading this post if you don't want to know all the emotional crap I'm going through or if you don't know how to keep up with a choppy thought pattern. People might wonder why I would talk about personal things on this blog and it's because it's my blog. It's my place to write about my personal crap and you don't have to read it.

Onward.

...and I don't normally write about personal things. I just need to get this out...

Onward once more.

I feel so alone. My life is pretty good right now. I have new and exciting things going on and I really am happy. But for some reason, lately, I've been wanting someone. Anyone. Just a companion... something.

And people say, "Just go to God. He's all you need." This statement is very true but if it wasn't good for Adam to be alone, why is it good for me? Maybe I'm being sefish and pathetic but I've been single and waiting for a while I just don't think it's good for me to be alone anymore. Er, at least, I don't want to be alone anymore.

I don't want to have a different date every night. I don't want someone to pay for my food. I don't want to wonder about religious views. I just want someone to call. Even more simplistic and girly, I want someone to like. I want someone worth liking. It shouldn't be this hard to find someone who loves Jesus and doesn't look like the bottom of my shoe.

It's just so stupid. And it makes me feel stupid. I don't need someone. Like I said, I really am happy but it would be nice to be happy with someone.

This makes me sound desperate. I'm pretty sure I am.


Carmen.

The Blood in my Veins

I've been helping out at the theatre this past weekend and it made me realize one big thing. I miss it. I miss it a lot. I get into a funk if I'm in it for a while and then I stop. I love the late nights, the hard work, yelling at actors, all of it. And I miss it.

Because I've been helping at the school I haven't even thought about homework. I believe I have a pile of it to do but I'm not even worried though I probably should be.

I'm exhausted so this is my cue to leave.

For some reason, when I hear Rock the Casbah, I think of you. --Emily
Carmen.

My Aura is a Lovely Shade of Black

It amazes me the moods that one person can pass to another. In a 7 minute conversation my Dad got me irritable, angry, and annoyed. He was being short. My intent is not to make Dad look bad, but I suppose, in contrast, make me look bad. I... I need to explain.

Last semester I took yoga. Right now you're envisioning hippys and that music that only yogi's listen to and those spiritual interpretations and tacky pants-- Well, at the core of this class, besides feeling great, I learned some lessons. My bizzaro-teacher always brought up the fact that we all have the ablity to control our emotions. There's a list of feelings that we daily choose to feel and I can either choose that snippy attitude Dad was dishing at me, or I can pick something else.

Right now it's easier to do after that critical moment rears its ugly head but it is possible. I'm hoping one day that particular lesson will teach me in the moment rather than after.

If you think I'm starting to sound like one of those "yoga people", it's the same method as asking WWJD, or even more elementary, being a good person.

**Intermission for Blogger to have conversation with the landlords**

A few moments ago I got a shout from my parents. Alright, I think to myself, this is the time to put this method into action. I will be above it! I already have "controller of emotions" running nonstop through my brain since I'm writing a full blog on WWJD reactions. [maybe it should be HWJR-- how would Jesus react? That sounds dumb. It would never catch on.] I go upstairs and-- it is easier said than done.

The whole time I'm thinking, "Deep breath. Try to be understanding. Don't get annoyed because they call you just to fetch a pencil. Don't get angry because you'll arrive to work tomorrow at least an hour early. Don't get mad because your mother can't complete a sentence because she's getting distracted by 'The Biggest Loser'. And whatever you do, don't get irritated because it's taking 10 minutes to discuss something that could be condensed into 2 minutes." And it's hard. It's worse when I know I'm not acting the right way and I get frustrated because I know.

This has just sent me spiraling into a bad mood. This whole thing caused me more discomfort rather than without the prefix. Gosh. It back fired. Next time I try to be a good person I'll pray for situations that make me a good person. Life would be so much easier if it worked that way.


Positivistic is a word but positivity isn't?
Carmen.



After re-reading this blog I noticed I wrote "I'm hoping...that lesson...will teach me in the moment rather than after." Funny how He takes me seriously. Becoming a mute seems the most reliable course of action.

The Bright Side of Life

Sara, I believe I can officially call her my best friend, has gotten into this "be positive!" thing. I remember one day she took it so far that her positivity was unrealistic and just because you say "this is a good thing" doesn't really make it a good thing. But, hey, being positive seems like an excellent goal. I occasionally get into these bouts of "nobody likes me, everybody hates me" and I'd eventually get back into my normal state of mind. Trying to be positive, once you set your mind to do it, isn't all that tough. Sure, in certain situations it is extremely hard and around certain people near impossible but the overall happy-factor isn't that hard to acheive once you get a running start.

Reason #1 why I will not become an English teacher.

Me: how do you spell positivity?
Sara: Positivity isn't a word.
Me: Really?
Sara: Yeah.
Me: That's too bad. It sounds like it should be a word.

Sometimes I wish I could go up to people (mostly people I don't know) and tell them things that I think they should know. Like, "I've always wanted to talk with you" or "I'm excited to see you every Sunday" or "You smell great" or "Thank you for singing off key". There's so much I want to say that the social norms don't allow. There's so much I wish I could do. I would love to talk to him. I would like to hug her. People I don't know and see from week to week make me happy in the smallest ways. I believe, one day, I will tell all these people what they mean to me but until then, I'm going to cherish our one-way secrets.

Sometimes I don't like to be the smart one in a group. Actually, most of the time I don't want to be the smart one. I just don't like it. But I believe this blog is a place where I can be as self-centered, selfish, celebratory, and smart as I want. With this said: I got a 98 and 97 on my math tests! This is exciting. I'm amazing. I'm doing a happy dance of epic porportions.

By the way, I have been doing homework since 8:30 this morning and it is not good for the brain. At many points I just stopped processing. It isn't good. Since I'm talking about school-- I believe this is the semester that I'm just going to slide by. I haven't been stressed about anything and... I think my 'schoolness' is wearing off. Maybe since I know I'll be getting my Associates degree and going to a "real college" I've become immune to all things school related.

My family is amazing. I like all of them quite a bit.


Did you see his eyes get all big? He was checking you out.
Carmen.

Living Dead

It's so very rare that I wake up early enough on a Sunday morning to greet the blogger-world before I head out to church. So, good morning!

Instead of waking up miserable, I woke up being a bit goofy with a stuffy nose and a pitbulls cough. I had the wierdest dream(s) last night. I know at one point an arrow was launched through my head, killing me-- or so I thought. I, in fact, hadn't died but had an arrow lodged in my head, the tip coming out the forehead. I had to leave because if the person who shot me knew I was still alive, I would then be shot again. I got on a bus and went to Washington. I ended up at this complex where young adults who didn't have an income lived-- a sort of charity. This whole time no one noticed this arrow in my head. I ended up talking to this girl who I think I knew and I pointed out that I needed to find a hospital and try to get something done with this arrow. She then realized that I had the arrow in my head and left the room to call a hospital. When I found her, she said that there was just a recording and they needed a key. I might've woken up after this. It was really odd. When I did wake up, just to make sure, I felt my forehead to make sure I hadn't been shot. Very bizarre. I even remember, right when I got shot, the arrow going in-- it didn't hurt-- and then gradually my body started to shut down. But I was fully conscience and could feel everything. It was... bizarre.

Yesterday I ushered for The BFG (Big Friendly Giant) and it was good. When ever I go back to the Children's Theatre I realize how much I miss it. It made me happy to see a few familiar faces.

Well, it's about time that I brushed my teeth and left for church. I have a feeling today will be a very good day.


Carmen.

Flem is Seductive

Oh, goodness. I don't feel so great. I still have the throat thing, except now it has grow into a throat/cough thing. What's that all about? Not only do my coughs sound like I'm dying, but when I speak I sound like I've been smoking since I was four. I don't know if anyone else experiences this, but when I'm sick, and I blink, I can feel extreme heat when my eyelids close. It feels kind of nice.

I've been popping sugar-free honey/lemon cough drops all day (which taste just as bad as they sound), but I got to go out to eat with my brother today which was nice. He's one of my most favorite people. He sounds like he's kind of interested in this girl and that is weird to me. I remember when he would say in his most grudging nine year ond voice, "I'm never going to get married!" Then I would ask him, in my eight year old voice, since that was the only one I had at the time, "How would you have kids?" Adoption seemed to be his preferred method-- but it seems to me now that he's over the age of nine other methods might be preferred...

People change, and they get old, and they grow up... It kind of freaks me out.

Now, I'm going to high-tail my sick behind up stairs and get ready for work.


"I go there dancing twice a week." --45+ year old math professor refering to a local bar, Al Deese
Carmen.

I Feel Terrible But Mostly Great

Yesterday, after I spent the day at school, got food at the Penguin, got to swing at the park and then get coffee, I felt horrible. I get in the car and I just felt bad. I had a headache, a scruffy throat, and was tired. I got home at 6 and by 6:30 I was in bed. I had a hard time sleeping so I got up at 8, watched not even an hour of The Italian Job with Bryon, and went to bed again. This time I slept the night through until my alarm clock went off at 6:15am.

Why does "feel better" medicine taste so bad? Not only did I feel terrible, but I had the artificial, gross cherry flavor linguering in my mouth. It does taste like tar, but it did knock me out.

This morning, I was feeling equally bad but I took more medication so that the only thing affecting me was the immense desire to sleep and a raspy throat. I made it through the day with only one person asking me "Are you okay?" Normally, I get the "You look terrible." Which is one of the worst things to say to someone who feels terrible. I usually end up trying to look nice when I'm sick so that perhaps the nice-ness distracts people from the nasal-ness. [by the way, it never works]

By this afternoon, I wanted to sleep all day. I have work at four and some homework to finish that I put off from the day before. I'm not feeling too hot, I check the mail, and there's an envelope from Catawba college. [for those of you who need to be clued in, I submitted my application to Catawba not too long ago but I have been agonizing over my application submission since November.] I go through a slue of reasons as to why I got this envelope. At first, it just looked like a catalogue. You know, those letters they send out to reel people in to attend. Uh. Thanks. A few seconds later I see a letter hiding behind this colorful brochure. "Dear Carmen, Congratulations!..."

AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!

I screamed and danced and jumped and laughed and screamed a little more while I danced a little longer. My neighbors were probably thinking I got raped because I screamed. Thank goodness no one else was home or else I would've been sent to a mental ward. I am excited.

Pure. Excitment.

Who knew that I could feel so good while feeling so crappy.

Oh.

Sometimes. Sometimes life is just good. Sometimes it's nice to think that I'm on the right track.

For those of you who prayed for my acceptance: Thank you. Now you can pray that I get rid of this bad, gross thing going on.


The nighttime, sniffling, sneezing, coughing, aching, fever, sleep better to feel better medicine doesn't really exist.
Carmen.

Giants are bigger than Patriots.

There's something oddly delicious about an occasional hotdog, chips and coke. Mm. Tastey.

I wish I was one of those die-hard fans who watch the superbowl every year, celebrate, throw giant parties, make food according to the orgins of the teams, fireworks, shouting, throwing of confetti, color coordinated clothes, and get that undeniably great feeling when ones team manages to run the clock to the final second and win the game when all odds are against them. Last night, I watched the last 5 minutes of the game and then went to sleep. Instead of gluing myself to the tv, I hung out with Sara, got coffee, came home and danced most of the night away and managed to catch the last couple of minutes just in time to see the Patriots lose.

I do love me some football. Really, I do. I just didn't have any desire to watch the game and, even more shocking, I didn't even see any of the commercials. I'm pretty sure I had more fun throwing rocks into the "lake" with Cassidy than if I had stayed in front of the TV.

One of the best parts of the SuperBowl is the finger foods that come out of hiding. Finger foods aren't appreciated as much as they should be; everything has cheese on it. I wish there was a superbowl every month.

I'm so sick of school. I like the learning part, I hate the test part. It's so stupid. This is not a good place because now I'm becoming immune to the test-dread and the test-dread is the only thing that keeps me studying. I would enjoy learning so much more if there wasn't so much weight put on a particular set of questions, on a particular day, at a particular time and this one test can make you smart, or make you dumb. I love my geology class because there are no tests, but projects and homework which make me learn and understand.

I just got really freaked out.


Carmen.

In a Nut Shell

Love.
I need a car.
Sunday=Amazing
I'm a MySpace stalker.
Sleeping in is happiness.
I don't like working Fridays.
Clothes can be so inhibiting.
My fingers have the magic touch.
My math homework was reopened.
They were waxy. But only to me.
French onion soup is gross.
Little Miss Sunchine.
Brunch or lunch?
Third Eye Blind.
French fries.
Cheese.


Carmen.