Tag Archive: john mayer


Hello blogosphere!

Long time, no see!!

As you may have deduced, I have returned from my trip abroad and made it safely back to the lovely USA. My trip was awesome and amazing and every positive adjective you can imagine and I definitely did not want to come home, but now that I am home, I am definitely glad to be back.

The following things were what I was most excited about coming home to:

  1. Chiefy
  2. My Bed

Yeah, that’s it.

Besides being exhausted and wanting nothing to do with stairs or being awake, I have also been a complete basket case.  The reasons, however, I just don’t feel comfortable sharing with the entire world on the internet, so I apologize for that. I really didn’t need to share that part with you guys, but considering the mess I’ve been, I just haven’t been myself since I’ve been back.

I met some really great people and really, really loved every minute of the trip. It was amazing and I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I’m beyond glad I had the chance to experience everything I did.

Now that I’m back, I have so much to do and getting back to reality kinda blows.

I have so much work still to do for class and it seems like I have a never-ending supply of laundry. I only packed 50 pounds worth of stuff, but I just am struggling to put everything away. I hope I remember how to be in the real world and execute the functions of my job. That will be an adventure tomorrow morning. As will waking up at a normal time in EST.  My body clock is all out of whack and I never have any idea what time it is.

I just wanted to quickly update that I made it back safely and that I hadn’t abandoned my blog for forever.  I’m back and am trying to get back into the swing of things.

🙂

 

I can’t tell you how good it feels to know that I have created a safe guard against my increasing anxiety as the date of my departure creeps towards me.

Just today I had a mini-meltdown in the shower as I went through my mental checklist of things to do before I leave.  And my list was mainly academic.  It had nothing to do with all the other shit outside of school I need to get ready/buy/organize/plan.  I was running through the next 15 days in my head and worrying how I was to get all of my assignments done (and on time!) prior to my flight out of the lovely US of A.

I’m not sure if I’ve told you all about my trip to Europe this summer, but please don’t worry- there is more information to come.

I just wanted to let you all know right now that I took my color coding and organization to the next level today.

In a slight attempt to further procrastinate writing my ECON paper, I opened up Microsoft Excel and began building myself an Assignment & Due Date Matrix.

Why, yes, I am aware of what a nerd I am.

You can make fun of me all you want, I don’t mind.  I’ll be sitting here, stress-free and on top of all of my assignments because of it.  AND, I’ll get to feel the satisfaction of checking something off of this very specific to-do list. It’s all pretty and perfect and it’s all mine.

The best part is that as soon as it was complete, I immediately felt better about everything. Usually, when I create a to-do list or write something in my planner, I can feel good that it’s written down and won’t be forgotten.

Now, I know that instead of dreaming about failing all three of my classes this summer, I’ll start having stress dreams about what to pack for my trip.

I fucking hate packing.

If you were going out of the country for three weeks and could only bring one fifty pound bag, one carry-on, and one personal item, what would you bring??? Also, do you have any packing strategies? I’m going to need all the help I can get.

I was doing some reading today that made me wonder something. Obviously. Since I wonder things like every moment I’m awake.

Here’s where you assume I was reading something reputable, like a book or the New York Times or CNN.com or something else informative. This is the part where you attribute intelligent things to my person.

But, alas, this is the part where I tell you that I was reading nothing of the sort.

I was reading textsfromlastnight.com.

I came across this gem:

(443): and I’m pretty sure he drank the lava lamp

I used to have a lava lamp. I wonder what happened to it?

Upon reading this, I went to my trusty friend, who would never judge me for asking a silly question.

I interrupted our bitch-fest to pose my question.

Me: Is there real lava in lava lamps?

Seneca: Kathryn Grace!

Me: Was that really dumb?

Seneca: How about we just never talk about that ever

Then we had a good laugh.

If I had any sense of pride or shame, I wouldn’t have wanted to share that stroke of genius (?) with you.

For Christmas, I gave Nikki a gift card to a salon/spa with the intent that we would get pedicures together. Well, as fate would have it, as a birthday activity, Nikki and I went to get pedicures yesterday afternoon. For an hour and a half, we sat in cushy, black recliners while we soaked our feet in warm water and got to have our toes painted.

I happen to be very, very ticklish, a fact I always seem to forget until someone is touching my feet.

Anyway, yes, for an hour and a half my feet were very well taken care of. And then I put my socks back on and shoved my feet into my boots and we ventured back out into the Michigan snow.

Later that night, I slipped my stocking-covered feet into some black ballet flats while me and my gal pals terrorized East Lansing once again as we tried to “re-do” new year’s eve.

My toes were perfect. Not a chip or a smudge.

When I went to put on some fuzzy socks I noticed that something is not quite right with my toes. I think it has something to do with the fact that the three toesies in the middle on my left foot also kind of hurt.

I’m sure you’re wondering why that might be.

Don’t worry, I’ll tell you.

This morning, after I woke up and told Megan that I had yet another dream where I was about to die, and after I asked her if she wanted me to give her a wet-willy, we decided we’d venture downstairs to reunite with the last leg of our Tripod. Megan left the room and headed down the stairs before me because I turned back thinking I would bring my fleece love-knot blanket and LP down with me. Then, because I realized that my hands were already full with a three-quarter of the way full plastic cup of water and my crackberry, I decided I could live without LP and good ole fleecey.  At least for the time being.

I had taken maybe two steps when I turned my head to say, “I’ll come back for you!” in a whisper to LP when all hell broke loose.

Before I knew it, I was in a crumpled heap at the bottom of the stairs with nothing but an empty cup in my hand.

I’d just like to point out that Megan’s stairway is very, very steep and it’s probably a safety hazard. I’m not just an idiot who doesn’t know how to do steps.

Megan came back from wherever she had been and then started laughing when she saw that I wasn’t actually hurt. Apparently, all she heard was a big thuddddd and a “whoa” and knew she needed to check on me.

After I picked myself up off the floor, I went to go tell Seneca that I had just bit it down the stairs but my first question was if she was even awake. The response I got? Something along the lines of “how could I not be?!”  While she didn’t hear the “whoa” punctuating my fall, she did hear me whine, “Ohhh, now I’m all wet!”

I’m pretty sure I’m not telling this right because I was laughing my ass off as the three of us regaled the hilarity it was to know that I took a tumble down the stairs.

My point is, now one of my toenails is a tiny bit chipped and there’s some degree of rug burn on my three middle toes on just my one foot.

If we could have filmed me busting my ass like that, I totally could have won some money on America’s Funniest Home Videos.

I pretty much just need my own camera crew, a few corporate sponsors and a reality show/development deal with a major TV network. I’m pretty sure I’ve got my life all mapped out.

Some people do their best thinking in the shower. When I’m in the shower my mind is usually blank, or singing Christina Aguilera songs at the top of my lungs like I’m the winner of American Idol. And in between songs, I could be thinking really excellent thoughts, like MmmMMM! Shampoo smells yummy OMG I need a band-aid why is shaving my legs so hard!? DAMN IT!

When do I do my my best thinking? When I’m driving.

One minute I’ll be blasting *NSYNC and singing along obnoxiously (Laaaance, Joey, Justin, JC, Chriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis!!!)* and the next I’ll have an idea pop in my head that makes me wonder something.

This very thing happened the other day. Only it wasn’t *NSYNC, it was John Mayer featuring Taylor Swift (OMG love love love!). And it wasn’t so much of a great idea as it was that I realized yet another thing in this world I just don’t understand.

Item # 58,492: The Compass

I don’t get how they work. The only way I know what direction I’m going is by the little green letter on my rear-view mirror. And even that means nothing to me. I forget it’s there because I never, ever use it. N, S, E, and W mean nothing to me. Nor does NE, NW, SE, SW, or any other combination of those letters that is actually possible that I may be forgetting. (I don’t think you can have EW or WE or NS or SN?? Baha!)

One time or another, when I was asked by a boy which direction he needed to be driving, I used my hand to point. It wasn’t really the answer he was looking for.  Communication fail. He was asking a NSEW type of question while I was answering in a(n) (almost) Left or Right type of way. But I was mostly thinking “that way” or “this way” or “over there.”  So, yeah, obviously, it went well.

Exasperation ensued. I explained that NSEW meant nothing to me and it really shouldn’t exist anymore since L and R tend to suffice. He explained that it has something to do with how our brains are wired (men and women, that is. Not he and I, specifically.) Apparently, men are wired to understand NSEW while women …. aren’t?

Perhaps it goes back to evolution and how men left the nest to hunt?

That makes me wonder, though, about those tribes or areas where women are the “breadwinners” and the huntresses for their villages. In those places, women are the ones that go on a quest for food while the men sit home and do jack shit except get fat and talk shit about how the women are never there to take care of them. Even now, women do the grocery shopping. That’s today’s “hunting and gathering” and you don’t need NSEW at the grocery store!

Penguins = Love

AND PENGUINS!  THE LADY PENGUINS LEAVE THEIR LITTLE FRAGILE BABY EGG WITH THE MAN PENGUINS TO GO FIND FOOD WAY THE FUCK OUT IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE IN ANTARCTICA AND THAT PLACE IS FUCKING FREEZING. THEY JUST GO TO FIND THE FOOD AND THE MEN SIT THERE ALL HUDDLED UP TO KEEP WARM WITH THE UNHATCHED BABY PENGUINS AND SING ABOUT THE SAFE RETURN OF THEIR LADY PENGUINS.

(This is clearly very professionally researched.)

My point is, in these cultures (yes, penguins included), do those women understand NSEW or do they go by landmarks? Because that’s what I do. Give me a landmark and I will direct the shit out of it.

Maybe in those cultures, the lady penguins are like, “Oh, giiiiiiirl, I REMEMBER that glacier! It’s this way! We’ll be home and ready to vomit into our freshly hatched baby’s mouth in, like, twenty minutes! Let’s get waddling!”

Maybe I don’t feel bad about not understanding compasses. It’s not like I’m outdoorsy and enjoy going places where there isn’t a starbucks and a sushi place within ten minutes of wherever I am. I probably won’t ever require the use of a compass. It’s not like I’m a pirate. I don’t even like boats! I have terrible motion sickness. No open seas for me.

I’m sure this lack of understanding of direction has nothing to do with the fact I get lost all the fucking time.

*Oh, I’m sure you were wondering why I made a little note for this footnote about *NSYNC. Here’s the deal: if you do not understand why I typed out the guys in *NSYNC’s names like that, click the link. Watch that video. And around 2:10, you will know why I did that. Whenever I listen to that song, I sing their names in that order at that part because it’s fun.  Also, at 1:25, Chris looks like a chimp.

That is all.

I had a day off today. ‘Cause it’s Tuesday, and I usually have Tuesdays off.

Now that my mom’s house (the house I’ve lived in most of my life) is officially on the market, we’ve had a few showings so far. Today happened to be one of those days that we had a showing. It was to begin at 11 o’clock this morning. I was to do one last sweep of the house this morning and make sure everything was completely clean and everything was in its place.

I woke up and took a shower, then proceeded to get dressed. I picked up all the clothes from my floor and made my bed. It was while I was putting make up on that I realized that my vision was not right. I tried to ignore it; I didn’t want to think about what spotty vision might mean. I had experienced this before, a couple years ago, but wanted desperately not to acknowledge the possibility of what was coming.

Once I was dressed and ready, I still had some time before I needed to leave the house, so I did my once-over. I went through the bedrooms upstairs and turned the lights on and made sure Drew’s room didn’t smell like “sweaty boy” like it normally does while he’s home. Then I heard the doorbell ring.

Panic!

False alarm. It was Lenny, our creepy, toothless Orkin Man. WTF. I wanted to be like, Lenny, didn’t my mom tell you not to come here until later today? But I didn’t. Instead, I went back to my room and fucked around on twitter and checked Perez Hilton. Then he came upstairs, came in my room and handed me a sheet of paper. I shoved it in my desk drawer and looked out the window to watch him leave.

I then gathered my belongings and headed to Hobby Lobby.  I needed to get picture frames for a certain little nugget’s glamour shots. I probably shouldn’t have been driving, though, because my vision was still fucked and I was now starting to feel like I was either going to pass out or throw up.  My head was killing me. It was while I was clutching onto a shelf at Hobby Lobby that I admitted to myself that I was experiencing a migraine.  I was pissed, too, because I really haven’t had one in a while. I did not need this!! Especially when I had no choice but to be homeless!! Did the lights need to be so bright??

It had just turned 11 o’clock as I was walking out of Hobby Lobby. I wanted to knife the people in my house. Instead, I went to starbucks, where Althea, the starbucks lady who calls me Kate, was training a newbie and told him that I always, always, always get a caramel macchiatto and that I am a regular. At starbucks, I was a hot damn mess.  All of the comfy chairs were taken, and I wanted to knife the ladies who were sitting in them. Didn’t they know I needed to curl up and die on one of those chairs?! I sat at a table for about 7 minutes then decided I would just go be a homeless person and sleep in my car.

But I knew I didn’t really want to sleep in my car, especially in such a public place. That’s shady. And I was wearing a dress. Awkward. So, I got behind the wheel again and drove in the direction of home.  Those people were still at my house so I circled the block once and drove aimlessly through the neighborhood until 11:20, when I noticed that they were gone.  I parked my car in the garage, ran inside, and threw up. At least it wasn’t on the floor. Then I crawled in my mom’s bed and zonked out for a couple hours.

My phone went off and woke me up. I got some water and stayed in bed. I started watching Grey’s Anatomy, season 1. I’m almost done with it. Soooo productive!

Today kinda blew.