12:33 am seems like the most logical time to put my entire love life on the table here fore everyone to see, so let’s roll with it. Everything always hits harder around the holidays, especially the realization that yet another holiday has arrived in which I am aggressively single during one of the most romantic and happiest times of the year. This years different, though, as I’ve finally found myself at a semi emotionally stable point, in terms of confidence in this aspect of my love life, and I’ve been reflecting on the lessons I’ve learned from the people who’ve played a role in getting me to this point.
We all have that one person who genuinely messed us up. That one person we saw ourselves going all in with, the person who we completely let into our lives, baring everything emotionally, physically, and mentally, all to have it end in tears and heartbreak. While I definitely will one hundred percent never be in the right mind space to talk about this person, the person who left me in pieces and probably didn’t even realize it, I learned a lot about myself after this. One of the traits I love (and hate) most about myself is my loyalty. It does great things for me, but it is also the most frustrating aspect of my personality. When I care for someone, I care hard, and most people don’t share this trait. Other people seem to have no problem dropping someone toxic out of their lives if it means they’ll be happier in the long run, but I’ve never been like this. I will let someone I care about walk all over me without so much as blinking an eye and never expecting an apology. This has led to some people I’ve let in who never deserved to see the deepest parts of me.
I’ve been “single” for, uhhh, a pretty long time now. I’ve had people who I’ve seen for a few weeks or months, but it never led to anything, and that was on them, not me. After growing up surrounded by examples of pretty toxic relationships, all I have ever craved was something real, where you know everything about the other person and respect them for both the things you love and the things you hate. A person you can do anything with, even if it’s driving aimlessly in a car talking or doing stupid errands together. And I swore I’ve found it before, a couple of different times… but the other person never seemed to agree.
Of course, I used this to come to the conclusion that I would be alone probably until the end of time. I wasn’t good enough, wasn’t pretty enough, wasn’t fun to be around, the list went on. This led to me absolutely, completely sabotaging anyone who tried to get to know me. I turned the tables on guys before they could do it to me. Before they could stop texting me and fall off the face of the earth, I did it to them. Before they could get what they wanted from a hook up a then pull the ol’ “You’re nice and all but I’m not looking for anything,” I did it to them. This didn’t make me any happier, instead led to me feeling twelve times worse and more lonely.
Around the time that I started my senior year of college, I was feeling really good and I had moved past that point of not feeling good enough for anyone. I had put myself through college and was two semesters away from graduating. I was starting to think about graduate school, had amazing friends, a decent job, and finally, a good head on my shoulders. I didn’t need a guy at all at this point and wasn’t going out looking for one either. “It will happen when it happens” was my motto at this point, because I had other, more important things to worry about, instead of worrying about why I wasn’t getting a text back from someone. Of course, because it’s me, this didn’t last for very long, as senior year brought me an amazing person who was the first in a while to make me feel as happy as I was feeling at that point. I thought maybe I was finally moving forward to having that permanent someone in my life.
Obviously, if that had been the case I probably wouldn’t be writing this post right now. But it made me realize that I am young and don’t have to find “the one” or be in any kind of a relationship right now. I’m only 22, I’m in graduate school in my favorite city in the whole world, after I found the balls to move out of my tiny hometown, I’m working towards my dream career, and I’ve found amazing friends. I’ve found myself, after all of these past experiences with guys, becoming more independent and not needing or wanting to rely on or answer to anyone, which is a place I never saw myself getting to. While I definitely feel a little bitter when I see yet another person from high school getting engaged or starting a family, that’s not in the cards for me yet, and the motto “it’ll happen when it happens” still holds very strong and true right now. And while I continuously pray every day that Jake Gyllenhaal will show up and sweep me off of my feet, I’m okay waiting around for a little while.
I’m sitting here typing this, as my angelic baby Koal lays on top of a pillow, snoring away, just thinking about how we literally do not deserve cats. If I didn’t have Koal, I would truly be the most miserable person on Earth, and yeah, that sounds dramatic but it’s the truth. Though she’s an evil brat who kinda sorta hates me, here’s an entire blog post devoted to her.
It’s amazing how much a tiny cat can change your life. I will never understand those who say they hate all cats, that cats are nasty, cats are evil, blah blah blah. Koal is an angel and I am so grateful for her. Not to be cheesy, but her presence in my life makes me so happy and I would be miserable without her. No therapy compares to burying your head in your cat’s fur while she purrs. I suggest everyone in the world goes out and gets a cat immediately, because while they are incredibly independent and pretend to hate you most of the time, deep, deep… way deep down, they are the most loving creatures in the world. Here’s to you, Koala bear, love you until the end of time.
You ever realize how much of an absolute joke graduate school is? Especially the one I’m currently going to? Well, let me clue you all in on the shadiness that Simmons has been throwing my way this week.
Okay, so, first things first – yes the rumors are true and I definitely did leave most of my entire final project for a class until the last day it was due. To be honest, I work better under pressure anyway, and there was no shot I was paying 25 dollars daily to come work on it during the semester. After realizing I had approximately four days to finish though, the other day I dragged my lazy self to the T and slaved over the project in the technology lab for a few hours, thinking to myself I had all weekend and all of Monday to finish it up. Easy, peasy. Ha ha ha, nope! Like I mentioned in my last post, the parking garage was closed all weekend, and even if I had taken the T to campus, THE TECHNOLOGY LAB WAS CLOSED. Let me break down all of the reasons why this is the shittiest thing that I have ever experienced in my academic career.
Students have jobs. Students have busy schedules, especially living in one of the most chaotic cities in the world. Sometimes, the weekends are genuinely the only time available to work on anything for school. For Simmons to go and completely close the computer lab for the entire weekend… There’s no way that’s fair. To add on to that, uh…it’s finals week? Christmas is in nine days. People are making plans to travel home for the holidays. There are tests to study for, projects to finish, so on and so forth. How are you literally going to cut off access to the main part of your school and expect students to somehow figure something out? We have less than a week left to get everything in before the end of the semester, and you’re just going to say “Okay, good luck!” and close the labs. Finally, I own a Chromebook. You know those computers who provide the bare minimum and really do nothing for anyone that uses them? Yeah, I have one, mostly because I don’t spend a ton of time on my laptop and went with what would fit me best, which just so happened to be the inexpensive, kind of busted one. Turns out that I really should have planned a little better for my future coding class where I would literally not be able to work anywhere else besides the technology lab because my little baby computer does not have the power to download any of the essential coding software.
So, today’s complaint starts with me pulling myself out of bed early, and I mean early, to take the T to campus to just get finish this awful, terrible, ridiculous project once and for all. After falling asleep at two in the morning, waking up to my alarm blaring at the ungodly hour of five am,, walking in the cold, dark, sketchy area that I live in, dealing with the green line (which we all know is no fun at any time of the day especially 5 in the morning,) I made it to campus just to find out that 1) I could not get coffee because the cafe didn’t open for another hour and 2) surprise, surprise the technology lab isn’t open until TEN. TEN IN THE MORNING. When I tell you I stomped down the hall to the student lounge, FIVE feet away from the lab that I couldv’e been working in, and cried for ten minutes, I am not being dramatic. Though the angry letter that I crafted and sent off to the dean might argue against the whole being dramatic thing. Anyway, in conclusion, higher education is a scam.
I was going to write this whole cute, little blog post about my trip to the Museum of Fine Arts yesterday but then I woke up today to the, uh…worst day? For NO good reason. You know those days when nothing goes right, and even the slightest, most irrelevant thing pisses you off? Yeah, that’s today.
I’ve always been a shy, nervous person as much as I’ve tried not to be. I love talking to people, I genuinely love making new friends, it just takes me way too long of a time to let my personality and humor show around new people. It’s so frustrating because I see other people easily starting conversations with new people, having tons of friends and I get jealous because I’m not capable of being outgoing. So, when I decided I HAD to live and go to school directly in the middle of Fenway, one of the busiest parts of Boston, I thought it was a sign. If I could put on my big girl pants, and move from little old Middleburgh into the big city, and somehow survive, I was destined to live here. While there are some parts of the city that I am absolutely in love with – shout out to Downtown Crossing – I am sad and am finding it so difficult to find my place here.
Open book here – I left my job a couple of weeks ago. I had some money saved up for rent and to live comfortably for a little while, so I figured it was the best time for me to leave the worst job I’ve ever had, while I had some savings backing me up. I did what any unemployed 22 year old does – started a blog. I put in a few job applications but when the time came to go in for interviews, it was like…..y’all hear sumn? I have such lazy tendencies, I found myself making excuses so easily. I didn’t want to put in any effort which sucks because, like, obviously I need employment. The frustration kicked in this morning when I did it again. I messaged the person I had an interview with and told them I’d have to reschedule, then fell asleep until 11 which is so genuinely embarrassing I don’t even want to write it down. Then the guilt kicked in so I figured I would drive to campus, pay the million dollars for parking, and finish my last final project that I have been putting off and which is due in t-minus one day. No offense, but I don’t want to build my own website by coding the whole thing. (My poor professor is genuinely the sweetest woman in the world, and did not deserve to ever have my dumb ass in her class). But hey, OF COURSE the parking garage is just entirely closed today. On a Saturday. At the end of finals week. Simmons, genuinely who do you think you are? Then I got even more frustrated and went to Target to spend money I literally do not have to spend.
After spending said money that I do not have on absolutely pointless stuff (ten dollar towel and a refillable Brita water bottle. Someone please stop me), at least ten people cut me off on the way home, I got extreme road rage, almost died, and then sat in my car crying to my mom for twenty minutes. After dramatically texting my roommates that I was leaving as soon as possible to go home for break, telling multiple friends I hate it here and kinda want to die sometimes, I pulled myself together, put on my emo nemo playlist on Spotify and went to town on this blog post. Which all made me feel twelve times better (along with my angel cat coming and placing her angelic little paw on my lap as comfort – I do not deserve her) and I realized it’s completely okay that I have next to nothing figured out here. I moved entire state lines, enrolled in a really annoying and difficult graduate program, and somehow started a relatively decent blog. While it’ll probably take a while to be discovered for my brilliant writing (this is the second time I’ve made this joke, like calm down, it’s a blog) I am so proud of myself for breaking out of my comfort zone, even if it’s just a little bit each week. I do love Boston. I think I just never realized how much I would miss my psychotic family and the small country town that I always claimed to hate. After I go home for Christmas next week and remember how much I hate it, I’m sure we’ll all be in for another angry blog post. Cheers!
Mikayla and I’s new favorite activity is smoking and watching Toddler’s and Tiara’s which is hands down the funniest show I have ever seen in my life. There is no way that TLC isn’t blatantly making fun of the parents on the show. Every time the camera is on one of the girls competing, some great lines come out like “but some day Justin Bieber will one day be married to me” and “umm I kind of hate this” as they sit, not caring about not one aspect of the pageants. But when the moms are getting interviewed, whoever edits the episodes leaves extra awkward silence as the mom stares silently after saying whatever dumb thing they said, an example being, “[My daughter] doesn’t have a chance of winning the ultimate mega supreme crown over me.” There’s also no way these parents aren’t on copious amounts of coke or adderall because, if you pay close enough attention, not one of them blinks for the entire episode.
Another one of my favorite parts of the show is the pre-planned drama. We watched an episode the other day where one coach (Yes. The mom’s hire coaches to teach the girls how to giggle and blow kisses) had two girls in the competition and just CLEARLY hated one girl that she was supposed to be coaching, and went on to sabotage her throughout the competition so the other girl that she had been coaching longer would win. Like it wouldn’t reflect well on her so called business. Which, by the way, I’m thinking of starting a coaching business -parents get charged up to $175 per class to be on a “team” and compete in pageants. For teaching the girls how to draw a heart around their face with their fingers, and smile towards the judges.
The episode we watched today, though, truly just… a masterpiece. This woman and her daughter named, Cherish, were competing in the same competition together. Yes that’s right, the 30 year old mom was joining her maybe six year old daughter, in a fun new section titled “glamour moms.” Glamour moms. Only five of the moms chose to compete in this horrid activity, and all five showed up wearing prom dresses that can be found in the clearance section of Forever 21, except for our favorite mom. Cherish’s mom stepped out in this little bedazzled number that easily cost her over one thousand dollars. Which, whatever, because what really sold this episode to me was the fact that Cherish’s mom does this after SABOTAGING her daughter so she could beat her. Cherish messed up her dance routines, had cheap looking outfits, and only, only got the princess title. The entire budget must have gone to her mom’s dress. Cherish was pissed: “I’m not even going to watch your performance,” and I was right there with her, hoping for her mom’s downfall. Justice was served and Cherish’s mom did not win the big title but are you kidding? Sabotaging your own child so you can win in a competition between you and four other moms. Here’s hoping Cherish has become twelve times more successful than her mom who, if I had to make a guess, is one hundred percent still competing in pageants today.
Attention: Do not read any further unless you have the embarrassing trait, like myself, of loving those cringy, cheesy, love filled, sappy YA romance books. The Sky is Everywhere made me feel some things – it has been a minute since I read something that made me feel bitter about being single and not head over heels in love with someone. It was depressing as crap, don’t get me wrong but the gross little teenage love parts were adorable and I read through the disgusting romance sap in two days.
The main character, Lennie, has not just a mother who walked out on her when she was young, but most recently, a dead sister. The book starts out by ripping the readers heart out, Lennie’s sister, Bailey, had heart failure while practicing for her part in the school play as Juliet. Lennie and Bailey are opposites; Bailey has always been the outgoing and carefree one, with the handsome and doting boyfriend, and end goal of going to Julliard. Lennie has always been so overwhelmed by her sisters light and talent, that she has purposefully dulled herself in order to let Bailey shine more. She quit her own clarinet lessons the second her music teacher so much as mentioned the word Julliard, because no way could she take away her sister’s dream or have one measly dream of her own.
With Bailey’s death comes Lennie’s downfall. I don’t know if the author tried to make Lennie the most dislikable character ever on purpose, but she sure succeeded if that’s what she was going for. Lennie is awful. My favorite line happens after she’s hanging out with her best friend, Sarah, after ignoring the girl’s existence for a solid month after her sister’s death. She literally says “…[I hear] a familiar voice, and I remember that Sarah exists.” Hahaha, I’m sorry but what? That’s literally her best friend. Throughout the book, Lennie clearly shows no respect for her friendship.
Not only this, but Lennie and Toby, Bailey’s boyfriend who Lennie discovers was not only Bailey’s fiance but her baby daddy too, hook up MULTIPLE times after Bailey’s death, all the while claiming it’s to help them continue to love Bailey. No offence, but um, bullshit. You don’t hook up with your sister’s fiance, a month after her death, just to feel closer to her. Maybe that’s just coming from someone who has never lost someone like this, but I just don’t see it happening. Also, Lennie is doing this while proclaiming to be madly in love with Joe Fontaine, a Paris boy who just moved to the area and is somehow hopelessly in love with Lennie, for reasons unknown to me. He comes and hangs out with her crazy family in the morning, bringing her croissants and bonding with her uncle, writes her songs to duet with her, and most importantly, tells her the last girl he gave his all to cheated on him with his roommate. And then Lennie goes and kisses Toby eventually leading to Joe walking in on them. This kid falls apart at the seams and the rest of the book is basically Lennie doing incredibly dumb things to make him forgive her, like chop off roses out of her Gram’s literal renowned garden, or writing him poems with the nice feminist line of “I belong to you.” …What? Are we in 1832? While she admits this poem was the worst idea in existence, he ends up forgiving her and the two fall hopelessly back in love again, the end.
This book might have been one of the cringiest books I have ever read, but I still definitely read through the whole entire thing, as well as oohed and aahed at all the cute, romantic stuff that Joe does for Lennie – she drops notes in random, public places talking about her private life and Joe picks every one he finds up and presents them in a box to her at the end like, I’m sorry to be that bitch, but that’s the cutest shit I have ever heard, and only slightly stalkerish. All in all, I will definitely keep this book and read it again when I’m in the mood to be depressed and bitter in love and and keep hoping I’ll find my own Joe Fontaine. Maybe I’ll drop some of my own letters in the woods, so keep an eye out.
Not to be dramatic but winter is genuinely one hundred percent the worst thing that has ever been introduced to the universe. Every year I know it’s coming and I’m still never prepared or happy about it when that first storm hits. I woke up this morning to a blizzard outside and actually leaked a tear over it. It’s December 11th, how dare there be snow on the ground during the first month where it’s acceptable for there to be snow on the ground. Going from dealing with winters in Upstate, NY to a Boston winter isn’t that much of a change, but, why couldn’t I have fallen in love with San Francisco instead of Boston? Did I not think that I would still hate snow and the cold just as much as back in New York? The pure anger that comes forth when I see even one flake of snow is unreal, and nothing else elicits that strong of an awful reaction out of me. Let me tell you all the reasons why I kind of want to die a little more than usual on the winter months.
First of all, it takes an hour to even get your car ready to drive. You have to run out into the freezing cold, hurry and unlock your car door which is definitely frozen shut and impossible to open for a good two minutes, you then have to sit in your heatless car for at least fifteen minutes before the heat kicks in in your over ten year old car, all while defrosting all six windows so you can actually see the frozen road that you will be swerving all over. All of this makes it so much easier to be a hermit in my apartment instead of pulling on boots, gloves, a hat and a bulky winter coat so I don’t end up getting sick at least five times every winter, and try to navigate awful Boston roads where, by the way, is a free-for-all. Seriously, there are no road rules here. I’m pretty sure I’ve run at least 45 red lights since moving here, and that’s coming from a self proclaimed great driver.
The only plus of snow and winter was hoping for a snow day from school but now I don’t even get that joy. Wake up and it’s such a strong blizzard out that you can’t see out the window? Guess what – still have to go to work. Still have to go grocery shopping. No days off. Also, no one even gets to see cute winter outfits, cute sweaters, cute anything because it’s TOO COLD. Can’t take a shower before leaving the house in the morning because hair will literally freeze. Can’t walk around Boston being all touristy because it’s still too cold. Can’t put gas in your car without not being able to feel your fingers for a full twenty minutes after. And we get almost five full months of it and there is nothing to be done during the winter months, and in conclusion, I should be living on a beach in California.
No one asked for this. But I read way too much to not try to keep track of every book so uhh, sorry!
I just finished reading Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes and FINALLY!! I have been severely lacking good books in my life. I have piles of unread books (and increasing way too often) but nothing has been holding my attention. I go through phases of reading every second of every day to not reading or feeling inspired by a book for months in a row. I’ve read a couple since I’ve moved here but I can’t say I couldn’t put any of them down, but this book changed it.
It’s honestly not my usual book. It’s sic-fi or fantasy and I tend to try to avoid those. The book was about these scientists who were experimenting on a mouse named Algernon, and a man named Charlie with a low IQ, performing surgery with the end goal of making them geniuses. Charlie starts out not even being able to beat a mouse through a maze, to knowing a bunch of languages fluently, and having more knowledge than anyone else in the world. But he learns so much knowledge that he realizes the experiment is going to fail, and no one knows what will happen because the experiment has only been done on animals before Charlie.
Along with the story itself being so original and creative, the way the book was written was so amazing. The book was written in the form of Charlie’s progress reports he is supposed to be writing in to keep the scientists up to date on what’s happening. When he has the lower IQ, the test of the book reflects that. Words are misspelled and grammar is terrible. As Charlie gets smarter, it shows in the actual text of the book to the point where I couldn’t even understand what he was saying.
I loved this book and I’m so excited that I didn’t completely lose the time or passion to put towards reading when I moved here. Next up: Everyday by Jandy Nelson.
Okay, I know we all joke or whatever, but Boston is so expensive that I cannot step a foot outside of my apartment without spending money. Dunkin’ Donuts is literally down the block, how is a girl to resist that? Not to mention, one of my worst character flaws is ordering takeout every night. I went to Target the other day with the mindset of making chicken cutlets and broccoli, bought all of the ingredients, drove home, put the ingredients away, sat on the couch, and ordered Italian food instead. It’s an illness. Also, I don’t know WHO raised me (I do, thank you mom for the expensive taste) but I fully believe in retail therapy. I will easily spend fifty bucks on books, clothes I don’t need, a box full of candles I do not need, without batting an eye.
On the other hand – I am so lazy, sometimes it’s hard to believe. I want all this money so I can buy all of the things that I want, which is an amount of things that increases on a daily basis, but I literally have zero motivation to do anything. And this definitely isn’t something to brag about. But to be honest, I have never seen myself in a full blown career. I’ve never felt the push or the passion to work for a really high paying company. I want the money, sure, but to really hustle for it has never really been something I’ve believed I had the power to do.
So I did find a job within a couple weeks of moving here and was so excited that I had found a four day a week job that was stated as being full-time and allowed me to be surrounded by animals. Though I definitely do not want to get into the long story about why I only lasted a couple months here, I put in my two week notice to, what the people call, “find myself“. I had a side job walking dogs on Wag (I posted a photo of the first dog I walked on the Charles River and my favorite dog that I’ve walked – literally the best side hustle in the world) and had savings so I could pay rent for a couple of months without worrying.
All I wanted to do was take a break, be able to sleep in instead of waking up at 5am for a job I hated, and read for hours every day, and end the night peacefully high and not setting an alarm. So that’s what I’ve been doing. Don’t get me wrong – I’ve applied to a few receptionist jobs and recently discovered the joys of freelance writing. And I’ve delved into a few other desperate ways to earn some money for my intense takeout obsession (I will admit I was up on a sugar daddy site for a full day before having a breakdown and immediately deleting it) but I’m just kind of chilling out for right now. Here’s hoping someone discovers my fantastic writing talent and get me to be a famous writer. (Just kidding… Kind of?)
Siena College was the location of the best four years of my life. Forget high school – college gave me my favorite people, allowed me to get my foot in the door as a main editor of the school’s student run newspaper, taught me to have the work ethic and actual academic skills that I definitely never got in high school, and learning the ability of not being so shy that I would rather starve myself in my room rather than go to the dining hall alone. While Siena itself wasn’t the best school in almost every aspect besides the friend one, (one of my favorite memories – when I ordered an iced coffee before my 8 am and they gave me a hot coffee with one ice cube almost fully melted) it gave me my most favorite memories and best life lessons.
Going into senior year, I was already in the mindset of, “Yeah, I’m done. No more school, it’ll be easy to find a librarian job with a little old Bachelor’s degree.” …..Who wants to tell her? Wasn’t it my surprise when I discovered that librarians needed a Master’s degree in something called Library AND Information Science. Uh, I’m sorry, what? What the hell is Information Science? What do you mean I need two to three more years of school? So then, of course came the mental breakdowns on how I would pay, where would I go, I’m too stupid to get in, I want to live in Boston but it costs millions of dollars, I will never get accepted, and on and on. I had gone from taking advantage of my savings, moving to a cute little apartment in Boston, and immediately becoming the cute little city librarian that everyone loves, to having to live in an apartment in a not so great area and being a commuter into the heart of Boston to get yet another degree and spend thousands more on student loans.
This all being said, Simmons is a beautiful school, and I almost wish I had gone here during undergrad, just so I could take more advantage of it. I only had one class this semester (remember when I was supposed to be taking three? ha ha) and on Thursday’s, I loved going to get a cup of coffee and sitting in the lounge they have available for library science students, and going to class in the swanky tech labs they have. And I really do wish I could spend more time there, but for some reason I CANNOT figure out the student discount so I am forced to spend $22.00 every time I park in the garage. That or spend an hour on the T. So while I’m definitely off to a rough start in terms of grades and laziness this semester, I’m hoping next semester I’ll have the reality check of realizing I’m paying thousands for what is going to be my actual career, and start putting in a little more effort.
I’m finally starting to get out into the city instead of holing up in my room (which I can way too easily do – another fatal character trait), hopped on the T and went to the BPL today, which I didn’t even get all the way INTO. I managed to get into the courtyard and have the perfect, most aesthetic little study session until a group of fifth graders on the lunch break of the field trip completely shattered my dreams and I had to pack it in for the day. I’m excited to pretend I’m becoming a cute little Bostonian who has a signature spot in the lib, and sips on her stupid, expensive coffee while pretending to write in the 2020 planner she bought for no good reason, and pretending she has any semblance of an idea of what she is doing here.