Blogs

So when I decided to write a blog, I thought a few things.
1. I would have lots of time to spend on writing it.
2. I would have a lot to talk about.
3. People would enjoy reading what I write.
4. I would soon become really popular.

This is what ended up happening.
1. I came home and ended up with more of a life than I had before. Mostly spending time with my boyfriend.
2. My life isn't all that interesting now that I don't have to worry about taking care of myself.
3. I'm lucky if I get one page view in a day.
4. Same as number 3.

This is a disappointment that I am not sure I can get over. All of my dreams ride on this blog. Ok. So that is an over exaggeration. My dreams and future do not rely on this blog. I plan on being a teacher/writer. The plan to be a writer is being shot down by my fear that I will fail. Yet I keep writing this blog even though I fear I will fail at it too. But how can you fail at a blog? I mean, think about it. A blog is just writing down your thoughts for everyone to read. I guess it fails when people don't read them, but people rarely even listen when I talk, so it's not that big of a deal. Hmmm... Now that I think about it. I will get over the failure of my blog. It's not that big of a failure anyway. Hmmm... I kinda want some coffee but not actual coffee. I want coffee shop coffee. I wish I had more money! Oooo!!! I need to call and make an appointment with my doctor... and with my advisor. I have way too much to do. Well. I guess this is the end of this particular post. Bye.

Things I Hate But Should Probably Do Anyway

I've been thinking a lot lately about the things in life that I hate or hate doing. Sadly, those things need to be done. So I thought that I would list them out and list the reasons that I would have to do them. They are listed in no particular order. I thought about listing them from the ones I hate least to the ones I hate most or vice versa, but I couldn't figure out what I hated more or less. So random order it is.

1. Peeing. I think this is probably the one I hate the most. I absolutely hate peeing. I don't know why I hate peeing so much. Perhaps it's the vulnerability of sitting on the toilet with my pants down with no where to run if someone attacked me. That would just be embarrassing. This is how I think of it: I'm afraid that while I am going to the bathroom, someone will bust down the door and kill me. It is one thing to be naked and dead and have the popo come see you and laugh at your nakedness, it is an entirely different thing to be dead on the toilet with only your pants down and have the popo taking pictures and videos of you to post on youtube and facebook so that the whole world can laugh at you. The reason that I have to pee is because I will get kidney stones or bladder infection or burst at the seams if I don't pee. These things do not seem worth it. So I pee even though I hate it, but I hold it for as long as I can.

2. Showering. I think I hate this for the same reasons I hate peeing, but this is where the popo just laugh at your nakedness, so it's nothing like peeing. It just isn't as scary. The reason I need to take showers is to get clean. No one likes a smelly person. I would lose my boyfriend if I didn't shower. I love him too much to lose him. My love of both being clean and my boyfriend overrides my hate of showering.

3. Working. I don't think I have to explain this one. I think most normal people hate working. The reason I need to work is because I need money. Same reason as everyone else.

4. Working out. I don't like physical activity. I don't like sweating. I don't like the pain of working out. Working out is just not a happy thing. I worked out yesterday and I yelled at the machine the whole time, as if it was the machine's fault that I wasn't fit enough to do the work out. The reason that I need to work out is because I need to lose weight. I'm not fat but I still want to lose some weight.

5. Dieting. I've been trying to work out this week. I've already cheated the whole time. I can't be forced to eat certain foods. I have to eat a variety of foods that fill me up otherwise I get cranky. Everyone was commenting on how cranky I was in the first few days. Even Ryan commented on how cranky I was and I was trying to tone it down around him. The reason I should diet is the same as working out.

So far, three out of five of those things are normal. Most people hate doing those things. I can't think of anything else right now, but I will.

Bad Idea

I went shopping with one of my friends yesterday, even though I had no money. (So far you are probably thinking, "Nothing unusual there." You would be correct. It isn't unusual to go window shopping.) The great idea that I had before leaving to go shopping was to put on some heels. I chose the heels that I chose because they are comfortable. They are more like sporty heels than classy heels. I wore no socks with these heels, not even the socks that are made to be worn with heels. This was one of the worst ideas I've had in a long time. Walking in those heels for an hour and a half, my feet started to hurt. I ignored it because I figured that a little pain was just fine. I put up with the pain for a few more minutes until I could get into my car. Sadly, even though being in my car meant I could take my shoes off, I still had to drive. Luckily I only had to drive about a mile to pick up Ryan. Every push of the pedal sent shock waves up my legs. My feet were in so much pain. As soon as I got to where Ryan was, I moved from the driver's seat into the passenger's seat while I waited for Ryan to come outside. I took this time to really look at my feet. I have never seen my feet so battered. The backs of my feet were cut up. My toes were blistered. One toe had a burst blister. I tried not to cry. The pain was and still is excruciating. Little shock waves of pain keep shooting up my legs from my feet. Sitting still hurts. Standing up hurts worse. Every step I take makes me want to curl up and cry. The pain is ridiculous. If you have ever had a foot injury than you know what I am going through. I want to chop my feet off. I wish I had lortab right now. That shit is amazing. It makes you feel so loopy that the pain doesn't even matter anymore. I still technically have lortab, I guess, but it's expired. :( No fair! Well, I need to try to take care of my feet. Bye.

Working

So, I applied for some jobs when I came home for the summer. I did this last summer too and never found anything. It was very sad :( It worked out this time though :) I got a call to come in for a job interview last Thursday. On Saturday, they called me to tell me I got the job. I had my first day today.

Now, you should already know that I don't really like to talk to strangers, if you have read my earlier blog posts. Well, my new job entails that I talk to lots of people. I work at a clothing store. I have worked at a clothing store before, but it was an outlet store and they didn't expect us to actually go up to people and sell things to them. My new job wants me to go up to people that walk into the store, make them feel comfortable, find out what they are looking for, and sell things to them. My manager said, "Once you get them in the dressing room, keep them naked." Meaning that you keep on bringing them clothes to try on before they get the chance to leave the dressing room. I may not be able to do this job. So on the way to work today, I started freaking out. In fact, I threw up before I left for work. I was so nervous.

I got to work and was sent to the bank to bring in a direct deposit form. I got back and we filled out paperwork for about an hour or so. After the paperwork was done, I thought that we were going to have to try to sell things to people. I started to get nervous again. I was in for a big surprise. They had us try on jeans. That is what we did for half an hour or so. When we finished with that, we clocked out. That was my first day at work.

My job is weird though. I don't work again until Sunday and I work from six until midnight tearing apart the store. Then the store will be closed for two weeks. So basically, I have a job but I can't work for another two weeks... I need money. Oh well. I think that I will like this job, but I am still scared. I hope this all works out. I also kind of hope that I can get a second job, because I really need money. My mom wants me to take out a loan so that I can get a new car. Or a new used car. She wants me to have a car that I don't have to worry about. We worry about my car a lot.

I will keep you updated on how my job goes when I actually get to work. I have a slightly bad feeling about it, but maybe it will help me become more social and less afraid of rapists. We can only hope.

More Reasons Why I Should Not Be Allowed to Drive

So I drive a lot and while I drive, I think. We all know this. If you are new to my blog and do not know this, read this first. Also, if you are new to this blog, you may want to read this. These two posts will fill you in on what you are about to read since this is a continuation of the second post I link you to.

I was driving the other day (yesterday, I think.) and I was getting really distracted. I suddenly realized that one of the reasons that I shouldn't be allowed to drive is because I can't concentrate long enough on the road to be an effective driver. I get distracted by a great deal of things. Looking in my rearview mirrors, thinking, zoning out on the patch of pavement in front of me, texting, the construction guy holding the sign at an empty road to my right, Ryan not talking to me, a bird that flies across the sky, a cat walking on the sidewalk, and much more. Driving becomes difficult when you would much rather look at everything that you drive past and memorize every detail of that thing. Cars driving on the road with you become a thing of dreams. They don't really exist and all that matters is that the one cloud in the sky looks a lot like a unicorn. Distractions are everywhere and my mind leeches onto every single one of them.

Ryan is scared. Every time he gets in my car, he buckles his seat belt. This is normal for anyone getting in a car. What is not normal is that as he buckles his seatbelt, he thinks, "Just in case Brooke decides to kill us today." I know this because he said it out loud when he buckled his seat belt today. It made me sad. I don't think I am that bad of a driver. Yet every time I start to vear slightly toward the curb or another car or into another lane, he freaks out and starts yelling at me. I know what I was doing and we were not going to die. I veared on purpose. (I tell him and myself this every time). Today, I was backing out of a parking spot and I hit one of the metal doors that hides the big dumpsters. Ryan flipped. He was like "Now there's a huge dent in the back of your car." I have hit inanimate objects before. I do it quite often. The first day that my mom let me drive to school after I got my license, I hit the street sign on the other side of the street from our driveway. When I took my sister to her driving test, I hit a gate. When I was parking in the snow, I hit a pole. Those three did the most damage to my mom's car. With my car, I have tapped a pole while parking. It did no damage. And I have hit the garbage door. When we looked at the back of my car, there was one teeny tiny scratch on the little flipper thing on my trunk. It's not like it matters, the paint job on my car was shit to begin with. He freaked out over nothing. Maybe that's another reason I shouldn't drive. I am way to cavalier about things that normal people would freak out about and I freak out about things that normal people would handle in a cavalier and responsible way.

I will probably think of more reasons later, but for now, this is it. :)

Bored

I am sitting in my bed at eleven o'clock on a Friday night all alone with no one to talk to or anything like that. I know what you must be thinking. "It's eleven o'clock, that's pretty late. You might be sitting in your bed by now anyway." Well. That is not the case. I could be sitting at my friend's house (apartment) and talking to her. Instead, I just spent two hours watching Grey's Anatomy and Supernatural all by myself while trying to find people to talk to but no one is online and now that I am downstairs in my bedroom [actually my sister's bedroom but she is in Seattle right now so I get it!!! >:D (Evil smile)] I don't have any cell phone service so no one can even text me to keep me from being bored so I am forced to write a blog post. I had no choice. Sorry that that one sentence was so long. I got a little carried away.

So this post is going to be pretty random and go basically nowhere, but please try to bear with me.

My car is doing mean things still. It has decided to start leaking. I have no idea what it is leaking. People tell me that it is radiator fluid. Gregg tells me that radiation fluid is just antifreeze. I don't care what it is, I just want it to stop. My car is out to get me. I feel like that isn't very fair since I do my best to take care of it. I do a horrible job, but I try.

A lot of people keep telling me that I need therapy. I don't know how I feel about this. I have problems but everyone does. I was planning on trying to see a counselor about my problems with school and such but I didn't think I NEEDED therapy. Apparently I do. One person told me this after reading this blog. He thinks that I need help overcoming my paranoia and anxiety. One of my best friends thinks that I need some major help with dealing with the events of my childhood so that I can have a normal view on relationships and intimacy. One of my other best friends is in therapy and thinks that it could benefit everyone in the world. Another of my best friends was joking when she told me I needed it, but doesn't think it would hurt to go talk to a professional just to vent every now and then. My Big (Sorority Big Sister) thinks that I am perfectly fine the way that I am and that all the "haters" can just fuck off. My boyfriend doesn't think anything is seriously wrong with me and just posed the question back at me. "Do you think you need it?"

Speaking of my boyfriend. I decided I don't want to call him My Nerd. That is kinda mean and he isn't that big of a nerd and I love him so I don't want to upset him in case he ever actually reads this thing. So I need a new name for him. I thought about just calling him Boyfriend but I don't want to look like I am copying anyone. I guess I could just call him Ryan since that is his name. I guess it's settled. For now I will just call him Ryan.

My cat is trying to get into my room by clawing at the carpet under my door. He is not succeeding but I feel he will keep trying it periodically until he succeeds at getting past the giant door that is keeping him from a blissful sleep across my throat. He loves sleeping on throats. It's ridiculous.

I am so sorry for the randomness of this post. I have already jumped through four topics. My transitions suck too. I apologize.

I got an email today telling me that I am officially no longer a student at Utah State University. Thank God. (If I even believe in the big man. He's like Santa. I can't be sure.) I am so glad to no longer be going there. I was sick of being in Logan. It's such a weird small town but not small because there is a college there but small when the students are gone. I don't even know how to handle it.

Anyway, I am kind of getting tired, so I should probably go to bed. I should also probably hope that people only kind of read this FAIL of a post.

Why I Should Not Own a Car or Be Allowed to Drive

I decided that it was a good idea to drive back to Salt Lake from Logan tonight at about 9 PM. I don't know why I thought this was the best idea ever since I am paranoid even during the day.

Do you remember that service engine light that came on in my car on my way back to Logan yesterday? Well it was still there tonight. This was enough to make me paranoid, but right after I put some gas in my car, the oil light blinked. Just once. But it was enough to send me into a spiral of paranoia in which I believed I would end up dead before I ever reached my destination.

I immediately called my friend, Gregg. He lives in Logan and he knows all about cars. He didn't answer. Fuck. I kept heading toward the canyon and impending doom. He called me back right before I got to the canyon. He called just in time for me to take a left turn at Wellsville and head to his workplace so that he could give me some oil. I got there in relatively one piece. I was surprised that I was even able to find the place because I had trouble listening when he gave me directions. He gave me the oil quickly because he had to get back to work. I was left to the task of putting the oil in my car. I had watched him do this enough times that I knew what to do. I went back to my car, opened the hood and reached out to open the oil cap. I am a weak little girl. I spent five minutes twisting and turning that cap in different directions. It would not come off. I called Gregg again and apologized vehemently. He came out, ran to my car, touched the cap and it came off in his hands. I was in such shock that I was forced to yell out my thank you to his quickly retreating back. I put the oil in my car and went on my way. My hands smelled awful. (I think I will try to draw a picture to show you Gregg's magical powers.)

As soon as I was back on the road, the service engine light turned off. I was so relieved. I started to think about what would happen if a cop pulled me over for texting. (I think about getting pulled over a lot). Anyway. I was cruising along perfectly happy about having temporarily fixed my car. I was suddenly struck with fear. My tires are going to blow out while I am driving and I will DIE. I started to panic. Hyperventilating included. I could see it happening. I pictured the entire scene. I knew that I was going to die and I was only thirty miles away from my exit and home. I would never make it. I might as well give up now.

I realize that this is very irrational. My tires are fine. There is nothing wrong with my tires. There were just bumps in the road that made my car bob like that. But I do not think rationally while I am driving.

I finally made it to my exit. I had to stop at the light. When the light finally turned green, I hit the gas. My car hesitated for a second. The service engine light came back on.

Dreams?

I had a dream last night. In fact, I have dreams most nights. But this particular dream left me very confused.

Dream:
I was at the mall with my family. So far totally normal. I don't know where my sisters were at the beginning of this dream, but who really cares. I was at one of the food places with my mom trying to figure out what we wanted to eat. Apparently this was our favorite food place to go to. They had quite a variety, mostly hot dog products. (It might have been trying to be Weinerschnitzel. I've never been there in real life.) We knew there menu very thoroughly but we we were having difficulty deciding what we wanted. My mom wasn't sure if she wanted pizza or something else. She was really craving tacos though. I was having trouble deciding between chicken tenders, mini corn dogs, and a giant pig in a blanket. I do not understand why I was having trouble making this decision. It is a very obvious answer: Giant Pig in a Blanket. Duh! First of all, I don't even like corn dogs. In fact, I absolutely hate them. I don't know why. When I had to eat them as a kid, I would tear off the breading and give it to my sister because she liked it. Second of all, you can get chicken tenders any time you want anywhere. These were not particularly good looking or special chicken tenders and they were definitely NOT shaped like dinosaurs. That would have changed everything. Third of all, I haven't had a pig in a blanket since I was a very little child. And they were the mini kind. Who would ever turn down a GIANT Pig in a Blanket? What was dream me thinking?!

My mom really wants a taco so she finally asks the lady if they have them even though she knows that they do not. The lady (who is actually more like a girl. She's probably only 19.) tells my mom that they do not have them but that Taco Time just two windows down does. My mom says "Fuck Taco Time." Actually, she says "I don't like it." and almost starts to cry. My mom does not cry in public. Ever! Anyway. The girl-lady leans in super close to my mom and tells her that they actually do make tacos. They started doing this a few months ago because they get a lot of customers that come in really late all high and they don't understand that a hot dog place does not serve tacos and that the taco place is closed, so no they cannot have one. (I don't know why apparently all stoners just want tacos, but it made perfect sense.) She told my mom that they would make her one.

This is when I walked away from my mom to go find my sister. When I finally found her, she looked like herself mixed with my friend that has super long hair. I thought this was perfectly acceptable. For some reason she decided to shave her hair. My mom freaked out. "ALL OF IT?!" No mom, she is just using an elevctric shaver as scissors and is only cutting her hair to choulders. No really. This is exactly what she did. Then I went missing for awhile I guess because when I found my mom and sister, my mom was freaking out about how her hair was lopsided. I couldn't tell. My sister had her hair in a weird ponytail. I was confused. Then I looked closely and all of a sudden it was obvious. One side of her hair still went down to her boobs, the other side only to her shoulder. So she took her hair out of the ponytail so that I could do that pulling her hair in my hands thing to see if it really was off. I kept coming to the conclusion that her hair really was lopsided. But I was doing that thing where one hand is following slower. My sister pointed this out. So I fixed it out. Her hair was perfectly fine. She hadn't even gotten it cut.

Then we sat down to eat. Both my sisters and my mom had their food. I still had nothing. They all had pasta for some reason. What happened to my mom's taco? In the dream I totally thought that the noodles on my mom's plate was a taco. I told my mom that I still hadn't gotten anything. She said that she would take me somewhere else because the things I wanted were better at this other place. Then I started to cry and tell her that I was so hungry and it wasn't fair that I couldn't eat and they all got to stuff their faces now. So my sister looked me square in the eye and swirled her entire plate of pasta onto her fork and put it in her mouth. "There! I'm done." My mom and other sister did the exact same thing. Now I felt bad. I eat slow and now I was going to feel the need to stuff the whole thing in my mouth when I got my food so that they wouldn't have to wait for me. Then I would choke and die and they would be sorry for putting this kind of pressure on me.

That is where the dream ended. I woke up because I had the extreme need to pee. I never did go to the bathroom last night after that post. Anyway. That is my dream.

Social Awkwardness

I have recently come to the conclusion that I am socially awkward. And not just socially awkward, but pretty much socially inept. I just spent the past hour standing outside in the cold with my roommates and a bunch of people that I don't know. I said the total of maybe four sentences. One of them being, "Oops. That wasn't supposed to happen" when I dropped my bottle cap. I pretty much said this to myself, but one of the male-folk there picked up my cap and so assumed that I was talking to him. This did not start a conversation between us. He handed me my cap and promptly looked the other way to talk to someone else. I must radiate social ineptness.

The reason that I was out there in the first place is because they promised me food. Anyone who knows me can tell you that the best way to get me to go somewhere is to promise me that free food will be involved. I was not disappointed. They really did provide the food that they had promised me. Including these hybrid oreos that are part vanilla and part chocolate. I immediately wondered if the oreo was ridiculed in school for being so half and half like that. (I figure it would be the equivalent of having a classmate who is half orange and half purple split right down the middle. The ridicule would never stop.) I thought about saying this out loud. I immediately stopped myself. I tried to picture what would happen if I said this out loud to my peers. It wasn't pretty. The world collapsed around me and everything I held dear was destroyed. I didn't tell them what I was thinking about the oreo.

I found myself stuck even when I was done eating. I couldn't just leave. I couldn't make up some lame excuse about having to study in order to extract myself from this situation. No. I had to stay where I was and wait for everyone else to decide to come inside.

An hour later, my extremities were frozen. (I think extremities is the right word). I was done with the bottle of water I had consumed, I was tired of standing, no one was even bothering to pretend to talk to me anymore, and I kind of had to pee. (I still haven't peed. I hate peeing.) I finally ran for it. I probably looked odd with my flailing limbs, running for my life to the safety of my own house, away from all the strange people that I was determined would kill me then dance around my carcass and then throw me on the grill. I really thought this was going to happen. You would understand if you had been there. It looked like they were preparing for a ritual. They even hid in the carport while they prayed... I think now you understand my fear.

Anyway. Now I am safe in my bedroom typing this post. I think I'm going to end it here though. I need to go look up how to get rid of social awkwardness.

UPDATE: If you relate to this problem, it is a mental illness. Go here. I am looking at it right now. I hope that it can help me cure my illness. If not me, maybe it can cure you.

UPDATE: That website was ridiculous. I don't know how they expect any of that to help. They must be high.

The first thing they tell you to do is force yourself out. They want me to go up to complete strangers and try to talk to them. They want me to say hi to everyone I pass in a grocery store. I CANNOT do this. What do they think is going to happen if I even attempt to do this? I have trouble ordering food without having someone with me that I can look to when my voice fails me. If I have no one with me, the person taking my order better have excellent hearing because I will whisper everything. I don't see how these people expect me to go up to a complete stranger and try to talk to them. If I do that, tiny men are bound to jump out from the shadows and hit me with little pots of gold. Either that or a rapist will jump out of the bushes. They will assume that because I am reaching out and talking to people that it means that I am just asking to be raped by them. This is how most people get in this situation.

The second thing they tell you to do is change your diet. Guess what. I like my food. I am not depressed. I do not need to eat foods that make me less depressed. I am not socially awkward due to depression. I am a happy person. See :D happy!!!

The third thing they tell you to do is to improve your confidence. I don't know how to do this. I had a counselor in middle school that told me to say ten nice things to myself in the mirror every morning. I did just fine. It is not that hard to name ten things. But it's easier to only say one. Improving confidence will not help with talking to strangers that will rape you.

The fourth thing they tell you is to lower stress. Guess what! I have stress but they cause headaches. They do not cause me to be socially awkward. Stress does not make you scared to talk to rapists. Common sense makes you scared to talk to rapists. If you are scared to talk to someone because you think that they are a rapist, you are just being smart. You are not afflicted with a mental illness.

The last thing they tell you to do is see a doctor if all else fails. They don't seem to like doctors. They are prejudiced against doctors and believe that all doctors should be killed. They are terrorists. So do not read the link that I posted. If you did, it is very possible that you are being brainwashed at this very moment. They want you to kill doctors so that when they take over America, there will be no doctors to save us. Trust me, you do not want the doctors to die. So please don't kill them.

Driving Thoughts

I was driving back to Logan this morning from Salt Lake. For those that do not know, that is about a two hour drive. I was thinking to myself which is totally normal. At least I wasn't talking to myself which I normally do, but was not doing this morning because it was too early and I had not finished consuming my coffee so my mouth didn't quite know how to work yet. So I was just thinking to myself. Most of the thoughts were unimportant until one particular thought jumped into my head. It was then followed by more random thoughts.

1. The thought to start it all. I was driving on the freeway going about 80. This is not really bad. The speed limit is 65 and 80 is perfectly acceptable. I started thinking about what would happen if a cop pulled me over. I had not yet brushed my teeth and I was drinking coffee. The cop would have come to my window and I would have talked to him with my hand in front of my mouth. The conversation would have sounded like this:
Cop: Why are you covering your mouth? have you been drinking?
Me: No. I just haven't brushed my teeth yet and you are fairly attractive (meaning very hot because I would only get pulled over by a hot cop) and I've been drinking coffee and I don't want to subject you to my horrible breath. It could kill you.
Cop: Why didn't you brush your teeth? That's just weird.
Me: Not really. It's perfectly understandable. Have you ever had coffee right after brushing your teeth? (He would shake his head because we live in Utah and he is most likely Mormon and doesn't drink coffee) Well it is disgusting. It makes your coffee taste odd in a minty but not supposed to be minty sort of way. Plus it would have defeated the purpose of brushing my teeth in the first place. I would have wasted tooth paste which would in turn melt the polar ice caps and then all the polar bears would die. Do you want the polar bears to die? Are you a polar bear killer?
At this point the cop wouldn't know what to say and would just walk away.

2. I drove past a cop that had pulled someone over. I started to slow down when I realized he already had someone so he won't notice me. It's not like they are going to write down my license plate number and then send me a ticket while they are writing someone else a ticket. Then it hit me. WHAT IF THEY CAN?! I started to freak out. I have a billion tickets floating out there on their way to my house. I don't have enough money to pay for these tickets. I may as well just give up now. I'm doomed.

3. Do birds play tag?

4. If it starts snowing, I will kill God. There are two things that I need to say about this. First, you are probably thinking "But it's May. It doesn't snow in May." You'd be wrong. It's Utah. It snows in June. Winter never really ends. It is like a ninja. It waits around until it can jump on unsuspecting victims. Sadly, it only knows how to jump on the people who expect him to come. Second, I am totally going to Hell for saying that I will kill God. When I thought it, I could have just been like, "I was just kidding. I meant to say dog, but my dyslexia got the best of me." I cannot do that now. I have thought it and I have written it down. I am definitely going to hell. There is no way around it.

5. Finally my thoughts had basically stopped. Until this light turned on in my car:

Suddenly, I was terrified that my car was going to break down. I was going to die. I was already in Logan and I was on a street where the speed limit was only 35. I was actually fairly safe, but I found myself thinking about how I had a conversation with my boyfriend a long time ago about my car killing me. But I have that planned for another post. So I will put it up later.

I made it home without dying and then went straight up to campus to take a final. I have one more final to take and then I am done. We'll see how it goes. I should be studying. Bye.

Picture!!!

Picture of My Nerd being eaten by a Zombie

I wish that I could rotate this picture for you, but I don't know how to fix it. :( I apologize greatly.

My Will

After spending countless minutes (3 of them) on my Will, this is what I came up with:

MY WILL:

I, Brooke Anderson, leave all belongings to whoever will take them. Except for My Nerd. He is to be buried with me.

I then realized that that sounded incredibly insane.

Here's my revised will.

MY WILL:


I, Brooke Anderson, leave all my belongings to whoever will take them. Except for My Nerd. He is to be buried with me. Except for a box of Girl Scout® Thin Mint cookies, which I would like to be buried with me. Preferably with the box already opened so that I can eat them. I won't be able to figure out how to open the box myself. Keep in mind that I do not at this point own a box of Thin Mint cookies. So someone needs to buy them for me. I leave that particular duty with My Nerd. Thank you.


That Will is much less insane :) I hope that people will follow it to the T when I am dead.

The Boredom Increases to the Point Where Death is Unavoidable

I was under the impression that by coming home for the weekend and staying until late Monday night or early Tuesday morning would keep me from being so bored that I started to go crazy. I should have seen the flaws in this plan. I had planned on hanging out with my nerd all weekend and never having to be alone except for a few hours in the morning. I figured I would take those few hours to get my Fiction Writing Project done. Well... That isn't working out.

Flaw #1: My nerd works. He works at a car wash and the weather has been really nice this weekend. Especially today. The sun is shining and there isn't even a hint of chilly wind. This means that he doesn't just work for a couple hours. This means that he works until six or seven o'clock at night.

Flaw # 2: My nerd has parents. And although these parents claim to love me and warn him not to screw things up with me, they are extremely controlling. My nerd is eighteen going on nineteen, but he still lives at home. This means that his parents can still tell him when to come home. Last night we finally got to hang out at six. We went out to dinner and were trying to figure out what we were going to do next. That is when his parents texted him to tell him to come home. We only got to hang out for an hour. At seven I was back at my mom's house wondering what I was going to do.

Flaw #3: I ran out of ideas for my project. For some odd reason, I thought I was going to be able to start working on my project and just keep going until it was done and absolutely perfect. It was pretty to think so. I worked on it for about an hour last night in my boredom after watching Trueblood with my mom and I hit a wall. I ran out of things to correct in my story. Actually, that's a lie. I still have a lot to correct. I couldn't figure out how to fix the rest. I just got stuck... I still don't know how to continue with it. I've been awake for five hours. I have watched four episodes of various hour long shows. I have taken a shower. I have read a page or two worth of posts on Hyperbole and a Half. I have tested myself for ADD. I found out that I am likely to have three different types of ADD, all of them a little scary. I have stared at Facebook. I have stared at my project. I have stared at my job applications. I have talked to my pets.

Flaw #4: Any back-up people that I could hang out with have lives. My sister has school. My mom has work. Most of my friends still have school for another week or work. My other friends are out of town or out of state. I am utterly alone until my sister gets home from school/track practice, until my mom gets off work, possibly until my nerd gets off work.

All of these things are leading to me going crazy. Right now it's just getting close to pulling my hair out crazy, but I think it's getting close to "hallucinating that there are tiny little men all over the place, starting to believe that unicorns and pegasuses and talking beavers and Narnia and Middle Earth and fairies all exist and needing to be institutionalized because I have become so disillusioned with the world that I start to eat my own fingers crazy". I really don't want to hallucinate that there are tiny little men all over the place. Tiny men are scary. Tiny men make me think of Leprechauns. Have you ever seen a Leprechaun? Trust me, you don't want to. They are scary little motherfuckers. They should be avoided at all costs. They will beat you with their gold and it hurts like a bitch. 


I need something to do. I am losing my mind to the point where my Facebook status says "So bored that I may start pulling my hair out. I need something to do that doesn't include staring blankly at my Fiction Writing project, writing random things on my blog, reading Hyperbole and a Half, or talking to my pets. If anyone can help me, please let me know. This boredom has to end or I will not live to see tomorrow." I posted this before I started writing this blog. That is just sad. 


It just escalated. My friend told me to go for a walk. My response "By myself? What if someone jumps out from behind a bush and rapes me?" I cannot function in this world by myself. I will die if left alone for too long. I even have to remind myself to eat food every now and then so that I don't starve. I reminded myself after it had been two hours since I ate a cup of cottage cheese for breakfast. I ate ten wheat thins. I don't know how to cook.... Oh God. I think I'm going to die. I need to go so that I can prepare my Will in case my life ceases to exist.