Sexiness

So, I think it's important for every woman to feel sexy, at least some of the time. It helps boost confidence and libido, and it's just a good, fun thing to believe about yourself. I realized recently that, while I was with Will, I started to rely on him to make me feel beautiful and sexy instead of feeling it from within. That might have been one of the hardest things to do once I became single - reclaiming my internal, personal beauty and reminding myself that I am sexy and attractive to other people. For a while I kept up relying on other people to tell me that I was pretty and beautiful, but I've finally started to recover my confidence with the help of music (like Lady Gaga and Ida Maria). Don't get me wrong - I still have my days where I wake up and text someone and say "Please remind me that I'm pretty." But it's nice to know that, on most days, I can get ready to "Beautiful, Dirty, Rich" by Lady Gaga or "I Like You So Much Better When You're Naked" by Ida Maria and feel perfectly lovely and glamorous and sexy.

Faith

So, I lost my faith in organized religion and Christianity a couple of years ago, and it's not exactly something that will be coming back any time soon (I think). But there are things in my life that give me hope that there is some sort of Force (midochlorians?) that is helping me through tough situations. The biggest faith-reminder that I have is my friends. I have no idea how I would have found them without the guidance of some power that I am unaware of. I found Geneva so randomly one night, and through Geneva I made so many other friends in high school. It was by some random divine intervention that Mark, Carlo, and Julie were in my orientation group, and that through them I met my other eight best friends. And when I think about that - about how completely random it was that these people just wandered into my life and that they clicked with me instead of getting frustrated or confused or overwhelmed and that they instead chose to form a bond with me that will (hopefully) never be broken - it's hard for me to believe that it was so by chance because it has worked out in ways that have been better than I'd ever imagined or hoped.
Today, on Thanksgiving, I'm thankful for my friends. I smile because of them. I laugh because of them. I appreciate myself more because they appreciate me. I am more independent and can support myself better because I know they'll be there when I ultimately can't do something on my own. Most importantly, I know I'm loved, and I know that I am never alone, no matter how far apart we may be.
Sometimes, I hate being alive because I'm so worried about when I won't be alive anymore. But tonight, I am comfortable with being alive because I know that, no matter what happens, my friends will always be here to make me smile and laugh and feel loved.

Day 0

Dang, today has been a long time coming. I started counting at one month. Thirty days. 720 hours. But I made it, and I just have to do a little bit of work and then I'm driving and then I'm back, with my friends and in person. I really cannot wait for the hugs and the snuggles and the back rubs and the laughing.
Only twelve hours to go.
But now I'm having irrational fears that I've made it this far but I'll get hit by a car or something today and not be able to go home. These fears are so dumb.

Singing as I wait

85 hours maximum until I'm back in Maryland hanging out with some of my favorite people of my entire life. I can't express how happy I am to see them; I miss them like crazy. And luckily, during those 85 hours, I will be quite busy with Kappa Delta stuff, homework, going to class, seeing Harry Potter (huzzah!), and driving. And during all of those things, I will either be singing in my head or singing aloud. I forgot just how therapeutic singing is when I need to stay upbeat. Singing, rocking out, staying busy - this is the trinity of a the next 85 hours' happy Caroline, a Caroline not weighed down by the endless possibilities of how the future could play out.
You know, I've really internalized Carlo and Charles' teachings - affirming life is my new life plan, if at least for right now.

Wallowing... that's a good word!

I need to stop wallowing in my self pity and sadness. I need to pull myself up off the ground, dust myself off, and keep walking. I can't just stop living because things aren't going the way I want them to go. I can't just stop breathing because the air around me isn't tinged with the sweet scent of the St. Mary's River (and chips and salsa and donuts). I've got to keep working. I've got to keep smiling. Things will get better because things always get better. That's just how it is, and I have to stop worrying about HOW and WHEN things will get better and just accept that at some point in the future through some indeterminable ways, I will feel happy, and I will wake up happy and go to bed happy and things will be okay.
It's only cool to wallow in mud when you're playing in it - not when you're sitting down, waiting to sink under the muck. That's just not cool Caroline behavior.
Luckily I have such sweet new jams keeping me walking every morning. That switch-up from my normal routine has been heaven. I just need some changes right now, and luckily I'll get them soon. My hair will be freshly dyed and styled next week. Hopefully I'll be getting some sweet tattoos at Christmas. And maybe soon a better outlook on life? That's not exactly something I can make an appointment for or ask to get for Christmas, so I guess I'll have to work on that (at least partially) on my own.
One minute before 1AM. I'm going to get to bed so early tonight. (The upsetting part is I'm not joking - one in the morning is early for me recently.)

I Survive

I stumble'd this and found it so beautiful and apt that I felt an incredibly need to post it.

Blogging from the Library

I'm so cool, blogging from the library. I'm determined to write this freaking term paper today and turn it in for feedback tomorrow, but it's so hard to really dive in to something that seems so big. If only I could just cite Wikipedia; it would make things so much easier.
There are so many countdowns in my life right now, and there's so much up in the air, and I hate not knowing about the future (and since you can't really know anything for sure in life, I'm in a constant state of mild anxiety).
But one step at a time. Get the term paper done today. Get my KD exam study guide done tomorrow. Get my chemistry exam study guide done on Saturday. Get my calculus exam study guide done on Sunday. Work work work. Learn learn learn. And as the seconds tick by, I'm that much closer to knowing how my future will play out. It's like watching a story being written one letter at a time - it unfolds before you, and things that just look like a bunch of characters smushed together without meaning suddenly form words that form clauses that form sentences that form paragraphs that form chapters that form my life.
I like it when my poetical side takes over. It's such a relief.

Starting Something Sucks

First: alliteration in the title. Holla at it.
Second: I greatly enjoy late-night conversations. The only upsetting thing is that my late-night conversations have to be over the phone now. Oh well. At least I have my awesome best friends to keep me sane.
Third: I hate the feeling you get when you have a big project that you need to start, but you don't want to start it. You know what I mean? I have a big term paper due in less than two weeks, and I want to get it finished by this weekend so I can turn it in for feedback, but IT'S SO HARD TO ACTUALLY START IT. Especially since it's supposed to be 7-10 pages long, and I don't know a tremendous amount on my topic.
I know once I start it, I'll be fine, but it's the effort it takes to actually begin that makes me want to punch a toucan. And toucan are just too adorable to punch!

UPDATE: So I wrote a very, very rough outline of my paper. I basically included all of the knowledge I know about my subject (the Catholic Church during the Mexican Revolution) without any references to back up the info. As I was rereading it, I burst out laughing, though, because in one of my bullets I literally wrote "Madero was pretty tight with the Church because he needed that bitch's support with politics and shit." and it made me smile a lot. I thought I'd share that because it's smile-worthy.

A Direct Message to the Universe

Dear Universe,

I'm trying. I'm putting myself out there. I'm making myself vulnerable. I'm giving it my all.

Please just let me win this time.

Sincerely,
Caroline

Worry

I get so worried so easily. I worry about myself. I worry about other people. I worry about my relationships with other people. I worry about my future. I worry about the future in general. I worry I'm not doing enough. I worry I won't be good enough. I worry that, no matter how hard I try, I won't get what I want, and then I don't do as much work, which makes me worry that my slacking will mean I won't get what I want. I worry that one little thing is going to mess up the rest of my life. I worry that nothing I do can change the external factors in my life. I worry that my happiness will ultimately be decided by other people's choices that pertain to me. I worry that, as soon as something good happens to me, it will be torn out from under me because that has happened to me time and time again. I worry that there is no God. I worry that there is a God and that It doesn't like me. I worry that life is meaningless. I worry that I won't find love. I worry that I'll find love and lose it. I worry that I'm in over my head in a lot of different ways. I worry that I'm a burden. I worry that I'm annoying. I worry that I'll never stop making stupid decisions. I worry about growing up and being responsible. I worry I'll have my heart broken again, and I worry even more because I know that it's almost definitely going to happen.

I worry that I'll never stop worrying.

The more times I say "worry" in my mind, the less it sounds like a real word.

There is a slight glimmer that keeps me grounded, though. Well, it sometimes keeps me grounded. It also sometimes makes me cry. It's some of the lyrics to "On The Radio" by Regina Spektor:

This is how it works
You're young until you're not
You love until you don't
You try until you can't
You laugh until you cry
You cry until you laugh
And everyone must breathe
Until their dying breath
No, this is how it works
You peer inside yourself
You take the things you like
And try to love the things you took
And then you take that love you made
And stick it into some
Someone else's heart
Pumping someone else's blood
And walking arm in arm
You hope it don't get harmed
But even if it does
You'll just do it all again

And as inspiring as the song is (sometimes), making me realize that I shouldn't worry about the trivial things in life, other times it just makes me realize the monotonous cycle that life goes through. The routine of falling in and out of love. The pointlessness. But I only view the song in that way when I'm feeling down, which, sadly, is most of the time when I'm not at St. Mary's.

Deadlines

So I'm setting deadlines for myself to help keep myself motivated. I'll have my term paper done by the twelfth, which gives me ten days for revisions. I'll have my transfer essay done and submitted by the time I visit St. Mary's in December. That way, Admissions will already have something of mine on record when I schedule an interview. I'll have everything turned into St. Mary's by winter break.
I can do this. It's just going to take naps, tears, and encouragement.
At least my classes next semester should be pretty good. No classes on Fridays means that I can visit SMCM for longer whenever I come visit on weekends.
I e-mailed my Songleader application to one of the leaders from KD. I even e-mailed the leader of NC State's indie a cappela group (A Coppology) to ask about spring semester auditions. Look at me, trying to get involved in something.
I'm putting forth the effort even though I really don't want to. Honestly, I'd much rather curl up in a ball, procrastinate on the internet, get straight A's, and get back to SMCM as soon as possible. But I need to do something with my time here, I do suppose.
Besides. Extra curriculars look great on a college application.

PS: It's actually looking likely that I'll be getting my tattoos for Christmas. I cannot express my delight.

Countdowns

"I asked Jerry. He told Terri. Terri sang a song just for me. Lynvall gave a message to me. Rhoda screamed and then she asked me..."
I was so angry that I had to leave St. Mary's while I was driving back to Raleigh that, during the buildup of Ted Leo's "Where Have All The Rude Boys Gone?", I almost bruised myself banging to the beat on Ferdinand's steering wheel. It gets harder and harder to leave each time I visit because I want so much to just be back and have things be simple. But I can't just not visit either. Three weeks away from the gang is about my breaking point. I almost went nuts last week waiting and feeling left out and lonely.
So now I'm back in Raleigh, and my heater's not working, and it's in the forties outside. For the record, Caroline is not a happy Caroline at this moment.
But luckily, I have my countdowns. Today, it is twenty one days until I'm home for Thanksgiving and thirty two days until I'm back at St. Mary's. And each night I go to sleep, I wake up to find the number of days is one fewer than the day before. Hour after hour, the countdown gets smaller and smaller, until it's two weeks, one week, one day, one hour. Sometimes I realize that I might end up counting down until the day I die, but that's too morbid for me to be thinking about right now.
What's important is that, in thirty two days, for a few days, I'll be giving back massages and dancing around and scooping and laughing and feeling like I'm where I belong with the people that make me the happiest I've felt in a long time. Let's think positively now, shall we? Next time I'm there, I want one-on-one time with each one of my best friends. I want to actually catch up with everyone because I love all of tem so much and want to know about what's going on in their lives and be able to cheer them up if they need it.
Tomorrow, I register for classes. I'm hoping not to have classes on Fridays so that I can come down Thursday nights and stay all weekend with the gang. That would just be majestic in every sense of the word.
Well, back to moping and freezing my ass off. I should probably do some work at some point tonight seeing as I skipped five classes these past two days. Whoops. But it was so worth it.