Nightmares and Sweetness.

Shit it's been a while. That's also an understatement.

I've just been really busy this summer. Just kidding, I haven't actually done anything this summer other than develop a stomach ulcer and count down the days until I fly out to England to see my amazing boyfriend (who spoils me, hence my trip to England).

The reason I've decided to come back for a blog post is to sort out the thoughts in my head. It's nothing serious, just a little subconcious bullshit, again.

Let's get some things straight first though. I am ridiculously happy. One year ago, I would not have even fathomed what this past school year had in store for me and how incredibly happy I'd end up because of it (despite the nightmare of my roommate, of course). I could not ask for a better boyfriend. I really couldn't. No one has ever treated me like he does. I'm so happy it's disgusting and I've been so obnoxious this summer counting down to going to see him again that I'm even getting on my own nerves.

Now that I've established how sickeningly sweet and awesome my life is, let's go through this fucking ridiculous dream I had last night. I had a dream about the guy I lost my v-card to a few years back. I have these dreams about once every six months or so. They usually freak me out. The dreams are never sexual, just kind of awkward, as if we're meeting up again, a few years later. Last night, for instance, he was at my house and we were drunk and sitting in my room in the dark. Then he lost his pants so most of the dream was a mission to find his pants. It was perhaps the most bizarre ex-boyfriend dream I've ever had.

The best part, though, is that on my mission to interpret this dream, neither "ex-boyfriend" or "pants" are in my Dream Dictionary.

Dreammoods.com says this little gem: "To dream that you are wearing velvet pants, signifies your sensual side." --Thanks dreammoods.com, you are truly helpful. I appreciate that. They also said that "To dream of pants implies your tendency to be ambivalent in some circumstances," which could certainly apply. But really, could you be more vague. Freud would know, or say something equally as fucking crazy.

Either way, I don't know what it means other than I once saw this guy without pants, and then I had a really awkward dream about it. But it wasn't sexual at all. A simple, "losing of the pants" when alcohol is involved is normal. At least my head got something right.

Anyway, I leave for England in 8 days so my dreams can suck it.

I'm Not Ready For This.

I've been counting a lot lately. Counting down the days until I can get out of this room and away from my crazy, fucking annoying roommate. 27 days. You'd think I'd rejoice. But it's not that simple.

27 days until my boyfriend goes back to England. 27 days until I may never see him again. 27 days until the reality that I can't afford a plane ticket hits home. Hits hard. It's going to hurt.

I feel the hurt bubbling up in the pit of my stomach already. I feel it like a dull ache. It burns like heart burn, heart-ache does. Acidic and corrosive. It breaks me down. Makes me want to light up and smolder like fire safe paper around the cigarettes I'm not supposed to be smoking.

I don't want to see him go.

When we had our talk in February we knew it would hurt worse if we kept going. We knew it would be twice as bad and I'm getting really scared. I don't want to lose someone I care about this much. He's one of the best things to ever happen to me. Someone who came into my life at the right time and it was instant. Magnetic. Electric. So electric. And it's going to burn out, explode, cause electrical fires in the library.

What's next? Do I say goodbye on the tarmac and never see him again? What am I supposed to do? I'm supposed to be stronger than this. Supposed to be independent and fabulous. I feel sick. It makes me sick.

oh it's a lovely day, isn't it?

after taking yet another extended hiatus, I'm back. Hooray. Hoo-freaking-ray. Most of the people who read this blog know that I forget to blog a lot because I'm trying to actually get my school work and stuff done. However, I always come back when i need to screw my head on straight.

So here I am, wondering what to do, yet again. I am in the best relationship I have ever had (and as we all know, I've been in a lot of relationships and dating a lot of people... it's unfortunate). I have never been happier with someone in my entire life. It's true. I think the only thing that is a close rival is when I got published for the first time-- that was an exciting morning. This guy just makes me super happy, like SUPER happy, I can't even explain it without cliches and sappiness. I'm a big sap.

The problem is that 1. He lives across the ocean. (We go to school together right now.) and 2. He's most likely not going to school here next year.

It breaks me.

It feels almost horrible knowing that my relationship that I am so happy in has an expiration date. It makes me wonder why. It makes me wonder why I should be staying in this relationship if all it's going to do is break my heart. It makes me wonder if every single relationship I ever enter will be like this, because the record is starting t show a pattern. I guess normal relationships are for normal people and abnormal people like me don't get those. I wonder if I stay with him, what will happen. I don't want to get my heart broken again, and if I just continue in this relationship, if I'm just prolonging the hurt.

It just sucks. As much as I want to go off and get an MFA and do all these amazing things, I want to do them with someone. I don't want to keep feeling like I'm going to be alone all my life. And it fucking sucks. I just want to keep feeling the way I do now and I don't want it to end.

Well, good morning everyone. Wasn't that just cheerful as hell?

i get into the holiday spirit right about... now.

I like Christmas in theory.

But I work retail, therefore I fucking hate it.

So I like to discuss Christmas before everyone else does because, quite frankly, this is the only time when I want to talk about Christmas: when I'm 2 1/2 hours away from my job and all things related to Christmas-time at my job.

First of all, I FUCKING love Christmas music. I could (and do) listen to it all year. Except at Christmas time because I hear it for 8 hours a day, almost everyday for the three weeks I'm working there before Christmas. I talk about Christmas music a lot. I can sing all of the songs word for fucking word on key at any point. Quiz me. I love jamming in my car to it, riding by Christmas lights or the downtown historic area where all the store fronts are in competition to see who has the most spirit. I love that shit. I could eat it for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Ahhh delicious!

I also love all things shiny, and therefore, Christmas is my jam. Christmas lights, tinsel, you name it, it's probably shiny and Christmas related. Hell, even Christmas CDs are shiny (or the back of my i-pod). THINGS ARE SHINIER AT CHRISTMAS, it's a fact.

The thing is though, I dread holiday shopping. Mostly because I don't like lines, angry customers that are shopping around me (because I work with them around me all day), and the massive amount of HEAT the is generated in a shopping area, causing me to take off my coat and lug it around. It's December (or it will be in a month-ish), it's cold but seriously? It doesn't need to be 100 degrees in the mall at all times. I don't want to smell the lady that forgot to wear deodorant sweating through her shirt. Kthanks.

I'm also a terrible Christmas present picker-outer. The only thing I can ever think of is to give people books. However, I like to buy used books, so people think I'm just cheap. However, I like used books because: 1. I can buy you more books because they are cheap. 2. The line at Borders is ten miles long. 3. Used books have a smell that is, well, delicious. I love that old book smell. 4. Used books have a history. So you're not only getting the thrill of a good story within the pages, but a good story in the book itself- ESPECIALLY if the person who owned it before WROTE in the book. *sigh* I love this shit. But honestly, I love giving books. But I always end up picking the wrong books. No one else likes Chekov in a Christmas wrapped box like I do, or Whitman or ADRIENNE FREAKING RICH. Seriously, I wish I could pick out a good book that I liked that someone I'm related to would enjoy. I just don't think giving my mom a Sylvia Plath book will suffice. (I did give my mom a Sylvia Plath book because she WANTED IT. I went to every bookstore in the area to find a good copy of the Ariel poems... and in the end, it was too depressing for her. Great.)

So I need original ideas. If anyone has an original idea for a present for my mom, dad, 12 year old sister, or boyfriend, please leave it below in the comments because I am clueless and in a Christmas mood- which is inevitably fleeting. :)

Just say it, you're scared.

It has recently occurred to me just how much I live in the present and I'm wondering if I have a fucking future. Well, I have one, but is it going to be interesting, or fun, or amazing, or terrible? Will I get married? Will I have a great job? Will I have kids? Will I travel? Where will I move? I want a life that's interesting and fun but I'm actually getting really scared.

This thought occurred yesterday as I'm laying in bed and I realize just how scared I am of my future. He seems more sure than I am. He want to travel see the whole world. Me? I'm sitting there thinking I'll never have the opportunities to do any of that. I feel like I'm going to be stuck in one place all my life. Even the plan of moving to New York is terrifying because I know that's going to severely separate me from my family. No one's going to want to visit. Maybe my sister. I'd hope at least my sister would visit me.

I'm also having fears stemming from my oh-so-wonderful personal life. I really just want to be happy with someone but I'm so scared. I'm scared of being hurt. I'm scared of being abandoned. I'm scared of distance, infidelity, another broken heart. I'm so tired of ruining things. My past makes me crazy and I'm letting go of the hurt balloons one by one but there are so many and it's going to take a long time to fully heal from everything. Every lie, every relationship gone sour, the sexual assault. I don't want to ruin another good thing. I don't want to ruin it. I, too, want to grow up and get married and have kids. But right now, I think everyone's thinking the same thing about "that Amy girl." I'm too exotic. I'm too smart. I'm too something to get married. I'm not talking now or next year but I want to be married before I'm 30. I'm not one to rush things. I'm not even facebook official with the boy right now. I don't rush into anything because I don't want to get hurt. Maybe everyone is right.

I'm just scared.

Ten reasons my roommate is fucking hilarious.

I should probably preface this by stating that I have an exchange student from China this year as a roommate. She's really sweet but we have A LOT of cultural differences, which are as hilarious as they are annoying, so I try to look on the bright side and acknowledge that my dorm room is better than cable. No seriously, I have yet to hook up my TV. Here are the top ten reasons my roommate is fucking hysterical.

1. Soft-core porn noises. Apparently this applies to Chinese students who are not my roommate also, so if you get a Chinese roommate, be prepared, your room will also sound like a soft-core porn most of the time. She makes this really whiny/moan-y noises that are just too ridiculous for words and pretty much sound like something you'd hear on Cinemax at three in the morning.

2. She likes to teach me random facts about China. But only when I'm drunk. I don't know why she thinks this is the opportune time to teach me her culture, but I'm usually pretty down with it.

3. She washes her underwear in the sink between laundry days. Need I say more?

4. She attempts to make soup in a rice cooker. I did not try it because I do not believe it is safe to cook MEAT in a rice cooker. She does.

5. Remember that scene in Sixteen Candles when Anthony Michael Hall holds up Molly Rinwald's underwear? That's kinda what my roommate's closet looks like. Currently, the only thing hanging in her, mind you, OPEN closet is a pair of "granny panties" on a clothes hanger. If you are unaware of this scene, here you go:



6. There is a green acorn and three apples on her desk. I always like to look at her desk because there's usually something unusual one it. Today happened to be an acorn.

7. She NEVER walks. She's always at a full sprint, a slight skip, or napping. She does not walk. When we go to Wal-Mart, she does NOT, under ANY circumstances, push the cart. She will run people over. The girl is ruthless. But seriously, I've never seen her walk. Skipping and running, yes. Walk? Definitely not.

8. She will sharpen her pencil with a BOX CUTTER. Then later on, use the SAME box cutter to cut a radish for the above mentioned soup. It's priceless.

9. Oddly, the girl is electronically retarded. Her computer may not be the computer she uses at home, but it's in Chinese. Yet, she does not know how to operate it. Or the school's email system. Or the school's Blackboard system. This morning we went over what a syllabus is, a month into school. We also had a discussion about why to use a refrigerator and why not to microwave chicken wings in a plastic bag for five minutes. It's all good. She leaves me nice notes when I teach her little things like that. It's cute.

10. She moves furniture. A lot. She is currently moving her bed. Not to a different place. She's just moving it. She was pushing her desk six inches to the left earlier today. This is not an unusual occurrence. My only experiences moving furniture are move-in day and the one time an RA knocked on the door and asked if my boyfriend at the time and I were re-arranging the room. Moving furniture yes. Re-arranging, definitely not.

Despite her quirks, she's the funniest roommate ever. Annoying at times. But funny. And it's been a good experience so far. Signing up for international roommates gives you a chance to experience something completely new and if you have the chance, I recommend it. Open your eyes. There's a hell of a lot out there worth learning about. And I met the boy through her at some international student reception. (I mostly went for the free food.) So that worked out nicely, didn't it?

And just when life got boring. A happy blog post about stuff.

I apologize for the slowing down of blog posts, life gets hectic with six classes, five being english classes (aka reading and life-eating intensive), a new boy, and a social life (if that's what I can call it). I'm trying to keep up with this thing. I really am.

While I should be reading (death) for my classes right now, I'm taking the time out of my day to enlighten you lovely people on a few exciting moments in my life.

First of all, my friend just started a new online poetry journal. I have a feeling that once submissions keep pouring in, I'll be helping her slush through the pile of mostly garbage that will flow through, because such is the life of creative writing people. If you're a poet, feel free to check it out at the Buffalo Creek Review website. It's a really cool project that just got started so feel free to submit WELL EDITED (please) pieces for the first issue ever, which is scheduled to come out this winter. The link is also in the sidebar and I'm TRYING to get my friend to let me make a twitter, because, let's face it, I'm a twitter whore and this will fuel my addiction and make me very happy.

Second, things with the above mentioned boy look good at the moment. I don't want to say anything and jinx it, because I probably will, knowing my ungodly past relationship history. It's embarrassing, quite frankly, and he has managed to run into all of them. Even the guys that don't even go here anymore. Damn my good luck.

The BEST news, I might add, is that my FAVORITE writer's conference AWP is going to be starting on my birthday. Yes, my wonderfully dreaded 21st birthday. So instead of spending my night in a dirty Farm-vegas bar with everyone I've ever said hello to on campus, I will be sipping some wonderful red wine and talking to writers about writing and all things nerdy, wonderful, and exciting to a creative writing geek like myself. If you're going to be at AWP, I promise I will have the classiest 21st birthday manageable and please drop by and say hello to me, talk about nerdy things, and find me another glass of wine. (This is in February, so there is definitely time to register and plan ahead, if you so desire. However, if you're not a writer, you'd probably be bored.)

Again, I apologize for the less than interesting post this time. I just wanted to fill you in on a few events, promote the new journal, and get stoked for my awesome 21st b-day, which is freaking 5 months away. WOOOOO!

Also, in case you were wondering, the first day of fall (autumn, as the British man calls it) is next Thursday, the 23rd of September so everyone get excited! IT'S ALMOST SWEATER WEATHER!!!! I cannot wait.

<3 It's a happy blog post!