Ready for a change

I'm an impulsive person. As much as I overanalyze every little detail of my life, I have a tendency to make really big decisions on a whim. For instance, every tattoo I have, piercing my septum, going to school in Seattle, changing my major to Communications, moving in with Brian Early. I've never regretted any of this decisions, well at least not yet. As you may know, some of these have worked out better than others. Apart from being impulsive, I also change my mind quite a bit. These traits combined are making college an especially lengthy and expensive venture. If I had done the logical thing, I would have gone to CU Boulder straight from high school and I would be almost done with a math major and would have significantly less student loans to pay off. But where's the fun in that? Instead I paid two and a half years of out of state tuition, changed my mind about my major, experimented with classes from all sorts of random departments, got tired of rain and transferred. Now I am being forced to take bundles of different gen ed classes and toying with the idea of changing my major again. Most recently, the goal has been a Comm major, math minor, and then an elementary education teaching certificate. I've been contemplating switching to just a math education major, but I haven't been able to commit to that. I think that the Comm major has a negative connotation as being a slacker degree, and I'm gonna agree that it is easier than math, but I genuinely enjoy it. I love people and I've always been relatively good at talking, so I feel like Communications is fitting. I've rambled so much in this post, here is what I've been trying to say all along. Yesterday, I was browsing the Save the Children website. I clicked on the link for careers and noticed the ones filed under Communications and PR and I realized, I would love to work for someone like that. Yesterday was TOMS One Day Without Shoes so I had their company in mind as well. I've always just wanted to help people and there are so many organizations that I feel are really making a difference out there. I want to be a part of it. As far as school goes, I'm sticking with the Comm major and I'm going to start taking Spanish again. Check back in 6 months to see what my plan is by then.

Going barefoot is a luxury for us...

But for many people, it's life.
Buy Toms.
http://www.tomsshoes.com/

I need to call my grandma.

If you don't know, my grandma on my mom's side was born and raised in Cuba. She moved (floated in a raft) to America when she was in her 20's I believe. But after 60+ years in America she still has a shockingly think Cuban accent. Additionally, she's completely insane and overly opinionated. Have a conversation with her about anything, and I guarantee she will disagree with you, just for the sake of arguing. I love it. Because of how awesome my grandma is, I've always been really interested in my family history, especially the Cuban side. Well, the fact that my grandma fabricates a lot makes it a little bit more enthralling. My mom and I have always wanted to go to Cuba, and to take my grandma back to visit. This little thing called the embargo has been making that difficult. I had plans to study abroad in Cuba, but it hasn't worked out. My grandma tried to convince me that she has some special permission to travel freely to and from Cuba because she isn't a political enemy of the Castro regime, but for some reason she hasn't taken advantage of it. Hmmm.

So apparently America is having friendly talks with Cuba. Eventually this may result in lifting the embargo, and allowing us glorious Americans to travel to Cuba as we please. Woohoo. I actually really don't want this. I mean, I'm all for countries being chummy and world peace, blah blah blah. But I feel like Americans tend to ruin everything. And I can just imagine Cuba turning into the next Cancun. I want to go to Cuba, but I want it to be real Cuba, not Americanized Cuba. And I'm sure my grandma agrees with me on this one thing. Cuba has always held a fantasyland image in my head. I want it to stay that way. I know that there are plenty of benefits to having better relations with Cuba, for both countries. But I am selfish and I don't want to share Cuba with all of you other Americans. Sorry. 

In other news, I need to take a Spanish class because I am losing it. And I can't justify having a Spanish tattoo if I don't speak Spanish. 

Some people just get me...

I love our conversations. 

I don't have to hide anything and I feel like myself, totally comfortable. 

Just what a friendship is supposed to feel like. 

Multiple people are on my mind right now.

And Rules of Attraction is a great movie. 

Goodnight. 

I'm really modest too!

I made a deal with myself last night that I'm going to stop being a whiney baby. In the words of Barney Stinson, (if you don't know how much I love NPH, you should rethink our friendship) "Whenever I get sad, I just stop being sad and be awesome instead. True story." We all know that I'm incredibly awesome, so this isn't too difficult. I just get stressed out and forget sometimes.
This morning, I came back to my Denver house at 7am after spending the weekend at my parents' to find my roommates had broken my mirror and taken my iHome. Both of these are vital parts of my morning routine, as I'm too short to see in our bathroom mirror (Not even kidding, it's sad) and my iPod needed to be charged (it's dead now). So I was kind of pissed. For any of you that have met my roommates (who I love completely, even when I'm pissed) you know these types of things happen often. So I was ready to get all pissy and let it ruin my day, but I remembered my deal with myself. So I quit being upset about it. And my Monday doesn't totally suck now.
My group in my Group Communications got our most recent paper back and we were the only group to get full credit. She raved about how it was exactly what we needed to do, blah blah blah. I'm feeling pretty good because I wrote the whole thing. I've always been good at school, (maybe even a prodigy, ask the Batliners) but I used to focus on math and science. I'm ridiculously good at math, which apparently is rare for girls. I really like this. I've never really been interested in writing. This semester is the first time that I've ever enjoyed writing. My English teacher praises me all the time because as it turns out, I'm awesome at everything. After my Group Comm professor told us how fantastic my writing is and my Diversity prof gave me really good feedback on my writing, I've decided that I'm going to stick with majoring in Communications. We'll see how much time passes before I change my mind or doubt myself again...
If you haven't figured it out yet, there will probably never be anything too enthralling for you in my posts. I just like seeing what I write, as much as I like listening to my own voice.
Happy Monday!

I have a crush on every boy.

This post has nothing to do with that though. 

I'm going through another quarter-life crisis (kind of like a mid-life crisis, but I'm hoping to live past 42, so it's not the middle of my life yet.) 

I have one of these at least once a year. In some of my previous crises, I've made decisions like leaving high school early, moving to Seattle for school even though I'd never been there, changing my major to Communications without ever taking a Comm class, moving back to Colorado, and a plethora of other ideas that I never went through with. 

But right now I don't feel like making any decisions, I just want someone to choose for me. 

I'm looking at courses for Fall and at requirements for different majors, because I might change mine again. It would really simplify my life if someone would just tell me which one to pick and plan my schedule accordingly. I guess that's kind of what advisors are for. 

I should probably just finish my math homework, shower, and go to sleep. I have to drive back to Denver at 5:30 in the morning for a full day of school and then soccer. But I will continue listening to Val Emmich, eating cookie dough ice cream, and wondering about possible futures for myself. 

Done and Done.

Both kids are napping. For once I actually have time to work on the multiple research papers, math homework and speech that are due on Monday.

So naturally, I'm not doing anything productive. 

And it rules! 

Alright, every Thursday, Lizzie and I go out to dinner and to at least one dessert place. We've named this phenomenon Food Coma Thursdays. Last night was the first time that we chose to eat really quick, small meals and we skipped dessert entirely. 

What could possibly be more important than cupcakes on FCT? The news that Look Mexico was playing a show downtown and Lizzie could get us in for free. Obviously. 

I would say that Look Mexico is in my top 5 current favorite bands and I love free things, so I was stoked! I think we were the youngest people at the show, which is refreshing because it seems like every show I go to is packed with skanky high school girls. The LM set was fantastic, they are all incredibly talented musicians, and nice guys. Frank Turner was headlining. I had never heard of him before, but as soon as he got to the microphone, I was already sold. He's this adorably funny English dude, self-described as a "punk-rock kid pretending to be a folkie." I love accents and I love musicians. Again, I was stoked on him. 

(Note to reader: this is where I am about to become really serious for once)

Halfway through the set, I started talking to Brian via text. Out of nowhere he goes "Remember that kid, Ben who was friends with Wyatt. He killed his mom. Yeah beat her with an electric guitar." Alright. Whoa. That kid, Ben used to be one of my good friends. Rachel and I used to always do stupid stuff with him, like play mini golf, eat mac n cheese, and drive around. He was also on the lacrosse team I was a manager for. He was an awesome kid: completely hilarious, smart, and always nice. So hearing this news, surrounded by a large crowd of strangers and numerous electric guitars was more than unsettling. I found the story online and read all the details while I was still at the show. Apparently since starting college he developed some type of mental disorder and has recently not been taking his meds. I remember the weird feeling I'd get when I found out someone I knew had died. Even if it wasn't someone close to me, it was strange. This feeling was even worse. Ben may not be dead, but the friend that I knew is gone and his life is essentially over. 

I talked to Brian and Jeremy about it when I got home. Crazy stuff. Brian pointed out that from now on, things are just going to keep getting crazier. I think it's weird to hear about people I knew getting married and having kids already. In the past couple years, we've had a few friends pass away, which is a total mindfuck. And Brian is right, we are going to keep hearing about these things. 

(This is wearing I'm going to get less serious. Kind of.) 

Somehow, that discussion turned into me and Brian telling each other ghost stories and talking about nightmares. The guys have always thought our house was haunted, but until recently I never witnessed any of the weird things that they have, so it never freaked me out. But each of my roommates has weird stories about seeing things, doors opening, and various weird noises. And I'm a baby, so last night I made Brian sit with me in whatever room I was in. I made him stay with me while I brushed my teeth even. But I survived the night. And I'm going to my parents for the weekend, so I won't have to deal with ghosts for at least two nights. 

This was a weird post. 

I wish it were socially acceptable for grownups to throw tantrums...

Little kids have it so easy. They don't have to dress themselves, make their own food, go to school or work, and they have a designated nap time in their schedule everyday! 

The kids I nanny for are adorable. I love them. And we have so much fun. Until about 12:30 everyday, also known as nap time. This is the time when the 2 year old throws a tantrum. And the 4 year old comes out of her room about every 10 minutes to tell me something really important. Coincidentally, this is also the exact time that I realize how little I've slept and how much school work I have to finish still. 

But it could be worse. 

I could have a real job. 

Apparently I no longer believe in turning in homework on time...

I don't fully understand my math homework. I'm a nerd, I'm in abstract mathematics. I already took a class similar to this with Andy Loveless at UW. I absolutely love him as a teacher and learned so much. But I guess I didn't retain it. And the fact that my current math prof is experimenting with "teaching" styles doesn't help either. She refuses to explain anything because she wants us to learn together and help each other understand. I think that often, people retain information better when they figure something out on their own rather than having it explained. But this only works to a point. When no one understands a complex problem or procedure, we spend days spinning our wheels and being frustrated. Almost 2/3 done with the semester, we are on chapter 3. We skipped chapter 1. Awesome. Luckily I enjoy my classmates and we have a good time suffering through terrible teaching together.
Look at that alliteration.

Before math, I'm off to my Presentational Speaking class, where my prof says "Um" more than I thought was humanly possible. I kept a tally of how many times she said it in an hour. 121 times. I am guilty of using "Like" and "Um" to an annoying extent. But I am not teaching a class on public speaking.

I don't hate all my classes. Surprisingly, my English class makes me feel awesome about life. My prof loves me and makes me want to write all the time. I'm actually starting to like words more than numbers, it's weird to me. But there is a kid in my class that drives me crazy. One day class was canceled after we all showed up, so he asked if I wanted to grab lunch. I couldn't lie and tell him I had plans because he obviously knew I would have otherwise been in class. So we spent an awkward hour together because we had nothing to talk about. But after, he told me how he had such a great time. (Really? Whoa.) So now, he talks to me about nothing all the time, and always asks if I want to hang out, and I always have other things to do. But he's a persistant fellow! So today I got out of class early and walked to the student building. Upon entering, I saw probably the most beautiful man ever. (I think I overuse that phrase). Anyway, I'm looking good today (and feeling confident) so I decided I'd strike up a conversation. Then, out of nowhere, English class boy appeared. So we had an awkward conversation about nothing while I watched what I'm convinced was the man of my dreams walk away.
So basically I'm heartbroken and still have two really annoying classes to sit through.

Here we go again...

I love my journal. I carry it almost everywhere I go. I tend to overanalyze everything, thus my brain is constantly overflowing with useless, random, over-analytical information. In order to function somewhat normally, I need to get all this out of my head, whether onto paper, into the ears of the lucky (?) few that I choose to share things with, or the mysterious interwebs.
If you know me at all, you know that my Sidekick rarely leaves my hands, making the Internet readily available at all times. I decided to start a blog, because I often want to write in my journal at inconvenient times, such as: while driving (I attempted once. Bad idea), on the light rail (I cant write while standing up), or in class (like right now, although I'm sure typing on my phone is just as distracting as writing in my journal would be, if not more so.)
Alright, I need to go check Twitter now, I will vent later.