summertime sadness

Recently there's been one word to describe the temperature here, and that is freezing. It's not that I don't like the cold, actually that's kind of a lie, I really don't like the cold. I like cold weather when I can curl up next to the fire and drink hot chocolate.

The cold weather makes me miss home. I'm not homesick though. A lot of people are really excited about going back home for thanksgiving, but I don't feel like that at all. Don't get me wrong, I miss my parents and family and wyatt,  jazz a boo, and even poe, but I don'g obsess over going back, in fact I'd really rather not have to go back.

I'm not homesick for home, I'm homesick for how it use to be. I miss the inbetween.

I know that things have to change because that's how life works, but I miss the time I use to wish would end sooner.
 I miss seeing everyone and knowing what would happen and when. I miss running barefoot through the stoneleigh fields while A chases me  while M and N are laughing their heads off at the sight of us, I miss rolling into the Towson diner at 3 in the morning and the waiters knowing our order already. We'd sit in the sticky plastic booth, playing with the straws and condensation on the old fashion milkshake glasses while N and A take forever to finish their pizza fries and burgers, which are nasty to begin with. I miss blasting 'grillz' and 'boyz in da hood' while driving on baltimore street and through remington, we knew it was stupid but we thought we were indestructible. I miss the countless  nights we wound up in M's basement. I miss N yelling at me and M to hurry up, saying he and A will leave without us. I miss Ra being our 5th wheel. I miss the nights we hopped the fence and snuck into the pool. I miss all the stupid things we did this past summer and how funny we all thought we were. I miss even miss the lie that it would all stay the same.

So I'm not excited for thanksgiving break but I'm really excited for Christmas break. I can't wait to decorate our massive tree (jazz hates christmas trees ever since  one fell on him), to take over the kitchen baking our coveted christmas cookies, to have the house smell like evergreen and cinnamon, to make christmas countdown chains, advent calenders, to fill  the christmas crackers (not actually crackers, they're a paper cone shaped thing filled with a christmas crown and a cheap toy. they're called crackers because of the snap they make when pulled.), to break out my flannel sheets, to get everyone presents, to wrap and decorate the presents, and to see my family and M and Ra and possibly N and A, depends on how bored we get.

But, in the mean time, I'll just open my window all the way to make the room less like a sauna and spray the gingerbread glade.

They say that breaking is what your heart is for…

They say that breaking is what your heart is for…

I have major issues with people lying to me. It goes back to when I was a little kid; I had an unusual childhood blah, blah, blah. This is also why I have issue trusting people. You can’t always believe what people tell you or who they make themselves out to be. A lot of people wear a mask and hide their true identity.

R is one of these people. I trusted him, and I was wrong. Its really as simple as that.

If you know who R is, you might think he’s a good guy, and I use to think so too. I’m not writing about what happened to place the blame on him, but to help understand what happened and make sense of everything.

R broke up with me on Sunday outside of Marion. It was freezing. I was trying not to cry as the leaves fell onto the volleyball court. People were staring, but at a school this size, when aren’t they? He said what he had to say and I laughed.

 I stood up, “Well… I don’t know what else to say so, I’m going back inside because I’m cold and have to cry. But just so you know- I’m pretty sure you just broke my heart a little”

“Catie…. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

And that was it. 

That was the end of what I thought was going to be a lot more. Better than anything else that had ever been before. My friends said he was stupid and would come around. Others said a sophomore had played me. Girls in my hall laughed at me, that dumb freshman girl who’d been lured, baited, hooked, and tricked by a sophomore guy in a fraternity. The same old story, same old ending.

So the outcome of all of this is that I learned a valuable lesson. A cheesy lesson, but nonetheless a valuable one. I have really strong relationships at R.C, maybe not the type of relationship I thought would be the strongest, but 100% better. I have the best friends in the world. I realized that these past two weeks. V is there for me at the drop of a hat. M is always willing to beat someone up, well at least joke about doing so. S is willing to catystrate someone for me-don’t worry we’re keeping the knives away from that one.. KC and I are literally the same person. And Md has the ability to make me laugh way too hard. And everyone else is equally amazing too.

A lot of people I went to high school with constantly post about missing everyone back home. I miss a lot of people back home, but I left for a reason. I left to meet new people and experience new things. I’m so glad I’ve met people who I know I’ll be friends with for the rest of my life. These past two weeks have been as my ap English teacher PB would say, “a tale of two cities.” They were the absolute worst and yet also parts of the best times ever. I regret some parts  but still wouldn’t change anything. 

what really happened last weekend

It’s human error to make mistakes. Mistakes sometimes lead to the better things in your life, and sometimes, not so much. Last weekend, I made a mistake. A very serious mistake, that could have ended a lot worse. I didn’t pay as careful attention to who poured my drink, or what was in the drink. I won’t go into details because I can’t give that many.

I can say that I remember someone putting shorts on me.

Then it was pitch black.

R was called. And he called his R.A, who decided I needed to be taken to the hospital. The nurse looked really tired. Tired from working a late shift and from her work in general. I tried to focus on her face and comprehend what she was saying. It was black again. Then I heard,

“What are you to her?”

“I’m her boyfriend.”

“Were you with her? Did you see what happened?”

“No, ma’m  I was not. I wish I’d been there.”

Blackness.

Then R was standing next to me. He looked worried. He was stroking my hair. The nurse came back and poked me again and took him away.

“No! Don’t make him leave! R!! They’re being mean!”

“He’ll be back, he has to sign paperwork. Now shush.”

I was released around 3 am. It was cold. R asked if I wanted his coat, I said yes and we got into his friend’s car. 

It was black again.

R said he was walking me back to my room and people in my hall were making fun of him for trying to bring me back like that and they said he was a horrible person and was stupid. He turned around and said, “Fuck off”

R never looks the least bit scary, but when he told me that, his face was filled with pure rage.

I’m fine. I know not to be this stupid again. I know how scary it is. I got a call the other day that R was in the hospital, he was hit by a car on his bike. He’s fine. He has a broken collarbone, but he’s ok.

Last weekend was a mistake. That I don’t plan on reliving. It’s a jungle out there, but that doesn’t mean you should drink the jungle juice. But seriously, be careful guys. 

the most scattered blog post ever.

Fall break was not as fun as I thought it’d be. It felt like senior year of high school, only no one was around and I almost broke my mom’s new oven while trying to make pumpkin bread which lead to a multitude of questions. who buys a new oven with a lock? Why do ovens even need locks?  Why did the kitchen need to be upgraded while I was gone? Where is everything? And I’m pretty sure the manufacturer doesn’t even know about this feature since it wasn’t mentioned in the manual. Luckily, it all worked out. Until the fridge started beeping at me while I started into it’s blue glow, trying to figure out where the eggs were.

I crashed at my friend M’s dorm at UMBC, and their dorms are so nice, it’s kind of depressing. Instead of directly entering their room, you enter a hallway (!!) , which leads to a mini common room with a huge bathroom (our entire bathroom would fit in their shower.) On the side there’s the doors to M and her roommate’s room and one to their suitemates’ room. In each room, they have a walk in closet and sink.

I missed everyone and campus. I especially missed my bed. I had no idea how uncomfortable my beds at home were. I don’t know how I survived sleeping on rocks with only two pillows for 18 years.

My cat was excited to see me, until he remembered I had left in the first place. It took him and day and his favorite blanket for him to get over it. My dog on the other hand, wouldn’t stop following me. He wimpered if I was too far away from him or if I was sitting on my bed. He doesn’t let anyone else pet or hug him and acted like he was being neglected the entire time I was at my dad’s house.

But being back has been the best. Recently, college has been exactly like what I expected from the beginning. I feel like I have a handle on my classes and know the amount of work required. And I now actually have a roommate. K moved in on Tuesday and Marion 3^rd floor is now so much better. We started a chain reaction of everyone keeping their doors open and hanging out in everyone’s rooms. I love having deep conversations with people you’ve just met. 

new (not crazy) roomie! 

Can I just be Mindy Kaling?

            It happened, again. I clenched my teeth together felt my mouth attempt to keep smiling. My nails dug into my palms and took a depth breath. Ok, maybe I didn’t really react this way, but if one more person asks me the same question, I might loose it.

The question. The same question that I’ve been asked since the start of senior year at THS.

“So, what are you going to major in?”

Once upon about five months ago, I knew the answer by heart, “I’m going to major in Elementary Education. I had a internship with Mrs. Hughey (she’s a huge deal at RFES, people I graduated with didn’t have her for kindergarten, but remember her instead of their own teacher.) and the kindergarteners in Room 4 and loved it. This would be responded to by the inevitable “aaaawwww, so cute!” and it’d be over.

Now, I laugh and say, “I have no idea.”

What changed?

 I was the senior counselor of the Terrapins and Comb Jellies at a Day Camp this summer. Due to changes in the system I was in charge of the two groups for the majority of the summer, and of course the junior counselors who can be a godsend or the absolute worst, and the unreliable CITs. Being in charge of first and second graders is pretty much what you’d expect. Don’t get me wrong, the kids were adorable, but it was really eye opening. We had one kid eat a bug. (yeah.), one who’s dad was probably in the mafia, one who was use to getting away with everything, and the list goes on and on.

I have no idea what I want to do with my life.

It turns out that coming up with Essie nail polish names, “Where’s my chauffer?”, “Bobbing for Baubles’”, “Just for the twill of it”, etc.. Is not a legitimate job. The staff offers up ideas and the CEO Essie, approves them. You can’t actually get a MRS degree, which is disappointing because I could easily rock a 4.0 with only home economics courses. I’m not in L.A so I can’t be Mindy Kaling’s bff/ cowritter (and she already has that chick who played Ellie on the office and she’s dating B.J Novak, Ryan from the office.)

But seriously, I have no idea. I come up with ridiculous idea (see list above) but can’t think of something I’d actually want to do. I know that a lot of people don’t even use their masters for their careers (side note: AAHHH!!) which really, really stresses me out, because the advice to take classes that you like isn’t that easy. I decided to get classes I don’t like out of the way for my first semester. And I really don’t like the idea of not knowing what job I’d have as a result of my major.

I recently got a letter from my friend C who is going to college in Boston, “duuudeeee- I have no idea about my major either! I’m thinking communication, but who knows. Maybe I’ll just become a hobo. I’d totally rock the hobo chic look.” That didn’t help much at all, except to remind me it’s probably not good to ask advice from someone who still talks like they did in middle school. 

Luke Bryan and Pearls

I’m going by saying something I always assumed I wouldn’t have to explain- I am not ‘country’.   I wear pearls earrings everyday, am in a committed relationship to Essie nail polish, Audrey Hepburn and Mindy Kaling are my idols, I have a weakness for chevron. I analyze the J-Crew catalogue with the same devotion and faithfulness as some hold the bible to.

But the other day, while M was over and we were singing the “dumb-de-de-dumb, de-de-dumbde-dumb-de-daa-daaaaaa’s” of ‘Save a horse [ride a cowboy] and declaring, “Rain is a goooddd thannngggg” (completely in key, of course.) She looked up and told me that her boyfriend T had said, “Katie is way more *insert favorite swear word here* country than J.” I almost died laughing at the idea. 

When I first met T, I was in awe of his truck, and told him so. M has a massive Chevy built for a 2500 engine, with a 3500 engine. T’s truck, on the other hand is an older truck with stacks in the back.

Here at R.U, there’s a weird blend of the uber preppy, down home rednecks, and those who are a little of one or the other. I fall into the last group.

Wait.. what?! Yeah I know. It doesn’t make sense. But it does at the same time. Whenever anyone mentions summer, I’m transported to the best place on earth, Lake View, Iowa. I can instantly smell the mix of salt water, gas and just a hint of mold. I can hear the squeals of my cousins and siblings jumping into the lake, and the roar of boats and jet skis being started. Lake View is a small town 3 hours outside of Des Moines (da- moin) and 40 minutes from the next ‘big towns’, Carroll and Storm Lake.

The cabin has an always-damp astro turf floored- screened in porch, which leads to the kitchen, dining room, and living room. There’s 3 bedrooms, a bathroom, a porch and steep concrete steps that lead down to the splintered wooden dock and the boat lift, power boat, and jet skis.

 Me, Pa, Caleb and Josh, at the cabin. (note the John Deere hats.)

I’ve been out at  the old, dusty corn  cribs and been banished from ever going back to the corn fields (apparently I hated it when I was 5), I learned how to drive in our corn fields and on dirt roads, I’ve gotten pulled over by the boat patrol (you have to have a boating license to operate a jet ski if you’re under 18.), I’ve played mud volleyball at the annual water carnival- it’s possibly one of the grossest experiences ever, yet is so much fun. I’ve gone mudding, I own more “take a break at the lake” apparel than I care to admit. Same goes for John Deere. I know which Sparky’s stays open later and still lets you fill the drink cups with soft serve and charges you for a .99 cent cup. I know to ignore anything Corey Webber says. I survived the summer of the fish kill- a local farm’s run off killed off almost all the fish in Black Hawk lake, which caused the water to be tinted with a lovely deep green, foul smelling algae which only added to the beautiful sight of the fish popping out of the water and floating dead on the surface. And I’ve been frogging. Frog legs taste like chicken.

Stock Popcorn- My Pa's popcorn company! 

            I’ve been reminded that you never know how people will perceive you. And that however they do, it doesn’t matter. 

That awkward moment when you no longer have a roommate

            Before I came here, it seemed like all of my relatives had a bad roommate story to tell me. My mom’s first year roommate who was depressed and went home every weekend until she then became friends with another depressed girl down their hall and the two would skip classes and watch soap operas and be depressed together. It worked out because my Mom was a friend with depressed girl #2’s roommate and they swapped roommates. My brother and his roommate would go for days only saying hi to each other. My uncle was in a triple with other guys on the soccer team who went out every night. I never thought that I would have my own bad roommate story, but now do. 

It all started when I was at mill mountain coffee studying with my friend V, I heard my phone have a spazz attack and I looked down on the slightly sticky table to find novel sized texts lighting up the screen, as my phone inched scarily close to my melted iced coffee.  It was my roommate saying how sorry she was and that she wouldn’t be coming back to RU because she felt that she didn’t fit in and was depressed and overwhelmed. I was really surprised but  I added everything up, and it made sense. Her mom was here all week so I’d hardly seen J. I can’t count the number of times I’d invited her along to whatever we were going to do and her response was “Thanks, but I’m fine. You go have fun.” Or the number of times I’d get back from my 1:10 class and she’d be under the covers of her bed and be on her laptop watching videos or looking at old pictures on instagram. I’m sad about this of course because we were friends and had gotten along really well until a week or so ago when she just became a permanent fixture in the room. Also I no longer have a roommate with a massive truck for Wal-Mart runs. I talked to my RA and she told me that I’ll be assigned a random person who is on a waiting list. I wish J all the best and I really, really hope my new roommate is well adjusted and willing to leave the room. And if she has a car, that’d be nice too…… 

easily distracted

In a hurry to meet M, I grabbed my phone, slid my feet into my flip-flops and yanked the door shut. The loud thud echoed down the hall as I kept on walking. I was just about to pull open the door to the stairs when I hastily spun around and realized the mistake- I’d left my keys. In the room. Which was now locked. J was at the barn with her horse and our R.A’s; board indicated she was “Off campus!” I was locked out of my room. I decided to wait until J got back and went to go study Spanish with M. Luckily, while we were in their room, tech support had to hook up their cable and kindly let me back into my room.

This is the second (and hopefully last) time that I’ve been locked out of my room, but this kind of this happens to me all the time. I am an extremely distractible person. I have the attention span of a fruit fly, but I’ve gotten a lot better at being able to focus and get my work done. However, this week has been horrible. I haven’t slacked so much since my freshmen year at THS. Last week everyone was so stressed about the workload and I didn’t think it was that bad and was glad that I was doing well in my classes. This week, I underestimated the amount of effort I needed to put into my classes. Before I came to R.U, everyone warned me about the constant distractions I’d have to face in college. I wish I had listened. On Tuesday, T came over and we watched the ‘Little Couple’ on TLC instead of starting Spanish. On Wednesday, I went rock climbing with C, A and W. And yesterday I went to CVS with E and M and watched four weddings while debating on whether or not to pain my nails.

From now on, I’m making to different to-do lists- one for homework and one for everything else. And it’ll all be fine- as long as I remember to look at the lists. 

                                                               Just a few distractions.... 

New found obsession

            I love smoothies. As a kid my older brother Josh and I had a routine on Saturday mornings, smoothies and cartoons. Josh was put in charge of the blender after the infamous blender of ’99- (this is relevant, I promise). R.U requires freshmen to have the 18-meal plan for the dining hall. For most people this isn’t a problem what so ever, for me, it’s becoming a dilemma. This week I’ve used my red card in the commons five times. So as of Friday, I have 13 meals left. Why? Well there are a couple of reasons for that. In high school I became use to not eating lunch after I had lunch at 10:30 freshmen year and at 1:30 sophomore year. Add in the fact that I have morning classes and pop tarts conveniently located in my room breakfast never really happens either. My Mom makes pasta fagioli (a pasta dish) that makes the commons’ pasta bar look like craft, always buys Organic produce and recently took up the Paelo diet.  Adjusting to the workload after a relatively easy senior year doesn’t help much either. The real reason, however, is Elderberry’s. Elderberry’s is a local smoothie/wrap shop- that is now located on campus! It’s an understatement to say that we have an addiction to Elderberry smoothies. They make the smoothies right after you order and you get to see all the ingredients that are going into your drink- and they use real fruit, not fruit juice like most stores.The only downside is the store’s hours. Elderberry’s doesn’t open until 11; so if you want to grab a perkilator on the way to an am classes- forget it. So what do we get instead of using our meal plan? J always gets a Mad’s Mango, M is in love with the Tomato Basil wraps and the Maroon Berry, S gets the Colada or an Orange Berry and I like the Really Raspberry. We all agree that if you need to stay up all night, the perkilator is the best way to go.