Worries

I'm a worrywart.  Always have been, always will be.  My parents, as strict as they are, don't worry too much or as far as I know, they rarely share their concerns with me.  The extent of worrying my sister does is whether or not the pizza guy will forget pineapples on her pizza like he did that one time. 

Maybe my parents are always so prepared (possibly for the worst) that they don't have much to worry about.  Or maybe they're just really easy going although I highly doubt that. Where does this leave me?  Hardly anywhere.  I can't help but worry especialy in these past few weeks.

Everything feels out of control and it makes me upset that there's not anything I can do about it.  I hate feeling so helpless.  I venture, that's possibly the second worst feeling in the entire world.  I go about making decisions for myself and yet half the time, these decisions don't rest so well.  They boil violently underneath my calm facade.  Every decision that I make has about a million worries attached to it. That alone worries me.  See what I mean?

My faith in God is strong but I still believe that you can control your fate to a great extent.  Whether you fail a class or not, is not a reflection of God's plan for you.  It is more likely a reflection of how much you're understanding the material and how much you prepared for the exam.  You can't just fail a class and say that God intended you to not do well.  Having said that, I still pray to God to help me get through my classes.  Not because he has the power to control whether or not I fail a class, but I pray more for the guidance and strength that I get from knowing He takes care of me.  I worry that His plan for me is not the plan that I have for myself.  What then?  I worry that I am constantly making all of wrong choices, not necessarily the bad ones, just ones that aren't right for me or that will lead me to somewhere that I don't want to be.  At this point in my life, I just want some kind of sign to tell me that I'm heading somewhere, some place that's meant for me to be there.   A peace of mind, that's what I'm searching for.

the XY species

What is it about guys that make them act more like  7 years old as opposed to men in their early twenties? The old claim that girls mature faster than boys have been told and retold to me even when I was in elementary school, but it still never fails to shock me when I see this claim put into practice.  I ran into an old "friend" of mine today while rushing to make my appointment.  I hadn't seen the guy for over a year and even though we tried the dating thing, it ended somewhat awkwardly.  No sparks.  His ego took a beating and we never talked since.  I was rather caught off guard seeing him again but my sense of courtesy still remained intact.  I gave a polite greeting and in turn, I hear a response slightly audible that sounded like "Hmmmrpph."  Not only that, he walked away from me!  I was left flabbergasted for half a second before my anger took ahold of me but nevertheless, I went on with life.  As did he, I'm sure. 

Granted, guys are pretty much a foreign (somewhat extinct) species to me right now but that encounter today made me realize that guys can hold a grudge just as much as us girls tend to hold a knife close to our heart.  I really can't comprehend why it is so much easier for guys to easily erase their memory of someone and view them as a stranger despite perhaps good and bad times had in the past?  I think every single person that you interact with will have an impact on your life, whether it be trivial or major.  I don't hold on to the past but I do remember it and recall on it to remember those who left footprints even if they weren't pretty footprints.  As much as we would all like to forget hard times and painful times  in our lives, aren't these the same experiences the ones that have molded us into better beings?  Aren't these the ones that although bring the greatest amount of tears have taught us the greatest lesson of all?  Just because a 2-year relationship with someone ends disastrously does not justifty you going to see a certified hypnotist and wiping out all memories of that person.  You don't have to be haunted by the memory of that person, simply put it in the back of your mind and treasure the time that you spent and invested in the relationship to allow yourself to grow and learn from it. 

Guys really need to step it up when it comes to their maturity level.    Have the respect to acknowledge those who have been in your life when you see them 5 months or 5 years down the road.  Stop being such a coward, suck up your pride and be the courteous gentleman that your mom raised you to be.

Tired.

Exams have calmed down but everything else seems to be a whirlwind.  I simply cannot wait for Thanksgiving Break to arrive.  I just need a break from all of this sleeplessness, even if it's only for a few days.  It's hard to believe that I'm getting ready to register for classes again. 

dearly stressed

What a rough week this has been.  Exams were all over the place and I honestly don't think I obtained more than 25 hours of sleep in 6 nights.  I'm not entirely sure how great I did on my exams but a part of me, that little piece of my brain that has been fried over and over again, is quite relieved that I have it made through yet another week. 

I am praying for two things in particular at the moment.  I hope they will both work out well for me.  I can't be too sure of them right now but we shall wait and see.  The thing I've learned the most coming to college and through life in general is that you can't wait for things to happen to you, for that next opportunity to come a-knocking.  You have to get out there, put on your rainboots, and start walking through the mud knocking on other people's doors to get where you want yourself to be. 

As an aside, I love ABC for putting all of their episodes online.  Completely appreciated by those of us who rarely have time to watch TV during the week. 

Blank Thoughts

It's funny thinking about how I had just a couple of days ago complained about something being wrong in the hollowness that I regretfully call my brain because just this morning, I had a CT scan done. I had completely forgotten about this appointment at the radiology center until my dad woke me up at 7:30 to tell me that I had an appointment at 8:30.  It was indeed very nice of him to set up an appointment so early in the morning when he clearly knows that I am always in a rather sour mood in the morning.   It was bad enough that it was too early in the morning to be anywhere other than in bed but the dad decided he wanted to come along because according to him, the last time I had an important doctor's appointment, I ended up running out of gas and being lost in the middle of downtown without a cell phone.  Can't argue with that.  Even though we were running late, I convinced my dad I needed breakfast at Starbucks.  I ended up getting a cup of coffee which my dad disapproved of and ended up lecturing me half the way to downtown on the disastrous effects of caffeine on the body.  I am still debating whether that cup of coffee was worth the lecture.  Probably not.  The other half of the time, he spent criticizing my bad driving skills.  When we finally arrived at the place, without any scratches or harm done to the passenger by the driver, the nurse took me in immediately only to suck all of my blood out of me.  She put an IV in and she actually had to do it a second time around because the first time, the needle under my skin popped out.  Blood spurted everywhere.   After the IV was inserted, I was already feeling a little sick to my stomach but I made it to the room where they kept that big old dome they call the CT machine.  I got in and it felt really cold.  Then the nurse inserted the iodine into my IV.  I felt my body temperature shoot up.  I didn't mind the warmness.  What I did mind however was how I could literally feel the iodine surge from my elbow all the way to my shoulders.  It was rather discomforting.  Past forward 8 hours later and I'm sitting in bed with a left arm that is twice the size of my normal arm.  It seriously looks like a small watermelon from afar.  I don't know if it's an allergic reaction or not but I'm a little bit concerned.  My guess is a vein popped but still...that can't be good can it?

On another note, I have been aimlessly staring at the computer screen attempting to write another essay for my west civ class.  This essay is by far the most horrible thing I've ever written.  Then again I am writing about comunism.  What good can I come out of this?  Although I do have to admit, Marx's ideas are very appealing on paper.  Sad to think, that it'll never work in real life.