I want to know what happened along the way that makes updating this journal so difficult. It's not like I forget, or that I don't want to.  I'm intimidated by it, yes, sometimes. I used to be able to log in, liberate my thoughts, hit post, and move on with my day.  Now I'm not only hesitant to post, but I rarely have anything of substance to say.

LIfe tears people apart, and pieces them back together.  Its not that I don't want to write, I just feel like life goes by too fast and that by the time i post anything its inconsequential within minutes.

My happiness, frustrations, apathy, and passions are so temporary they're often not worth voicing, but I suppose I summon the creative energy to do this once every blue moon.

The funny part, i guess, is that I love reading these things and you would think i would like to post things for others.

I've been busy with writing for the school newspaper and Journalism class. I haven't quite figured out what I want to do this summer let alone the rest of my life. I don't know if journalism is going to be one of those things that i want to do for the rest of my life, and I don't know how you can really find out if you want to do that, just quite yet.

I've spent the last week with my dog; we woke up together in the morning, he begged for food as i ate, we took walks together, and he slept as I read and talked on the phone.   And I suppose the strangest part was that he was sad to see me go. I never thought my dog was as sentimental nor intelligent.  I swear he knew I was leaving. He barked,  did circles, and barked at me some more.  He growled at me when i walked away.  I suppose i wonder now why he picked me for that week; he's never had any attachment to me before.  Maybe I was the one around most often, but that has been the case before. Nonetheless, I was sad to leave him and I guess that would be the first time I've ever been attached to an animal before.

I've decided that before break I was so focused and felt so concerned about the long-run, career-oriented. I tried to make the most out of all of my classes and now I'm just getting by (by getting by I'm still doing well) but my heart is just not in it.  My break didn't motivate me, if anything i've lost momentum.  Maybe if I slide by this week I'll be motivated by next week? (yeahhh not that great logic i know).

I have to sleeep but I'm going to hit send this time, see how that goes ;)

an update is long overdue.

i thought and truly believed that coming home would be ok. that i was just lacking in optimism.  That somewhere along the way i had written everyone off, that i could make things right. that i could live comfortably and peacefully in berlin like a normal human being.

first day? decent. got along with my parents, cleaned my room. got some sleep.
day two? decent again, spent the morning with my family and the rest of the time with my love. a good day, stress free
day three? excellent, my dad invited Wells over for dinner, yes kind of just so that i could buy my dad steak but a good day nonetheless. my mom refused to eat my dad's food, so it was just me wells, and my dad. an interesting combo. my dad came home mad and took it out on me and all my hard work to make dinner went to waste but whatever. i'm not surprised.  so ... my mom has been very irritated with my dad, right? for financial reasons

today? was wonderful until i got home. i spent a good portion of the day doing laundry, shopping, and at wells's house. when i came home my mom had made up with my dad, and my mom automatically got upset at me saying i'm roaming around berlin. idk, her tone is what frustrates me because now that she is ok with my dad, im the basis for all her problems or at least an outlet to get mad at.

i'm not happy to be home. my optimism is now pessimism and four days into living here i'm praying that four months will be up. i can't stand this. i want my independence. i want my life. i don't want to be stuck under my parents roof being fed bullshit about divorce and then coming home to them all buddy buddy and getting irritated with me.

i'm sick of being their outlet for their unhappiness. i just want for at least one thing to be ok, for me to not do everything wrong. I want... to come home and for my parents to be nice to me and not to find fault with what i wear, or what i say, or what i do, or how i look. 

but i suppose the best part is, or rather that is sarcasm for, the fact that i should know better. i should know by now, after 19 years, that my parents go through this cycle.

i should know that they put up this facade when they want things from me, and that they always trick me into doing what they want. i should know to do what i want and need to do, and not to give a flying fuck what they say, think, or do.

but for some reason i haven't learned. i haven't learned the first time, second, or third. it is probably time #1289748302 and i still haven't learned. will i ever learn?

ironically i stuck up for my mom yesterday. several times. i take it back though. she's no better than the rest of them and i have no sympathy for people like her.

i can't wait for this to be over, living and depending on them. next time i say or expect anything decent from my parents, slap me. yeah, thats a good idea. yup. really, i mean it
love,

a very confused and pathetically upset monika.

before i talk about my last few days i do want to acknowledge that my post was a little... pretentious, excessive, and quite a frustration because of some of my reactions to the multicultural society at my school. And it is unfair for me to be frustrated with this political correctness, etc. based on a select few who have given me this impression and i do apologize for that.  and i know i have a long way to come before working out all the kinks in my ideology.  bare with me haha

a long overdue update about my wednesday

i woke up really early to do all my work that i never get done at night.  i really like having late classes; i still wake up early but i do my work .  It was unusually warm and i decided to get breakfast with friends.  Food at salve, well, it's not always appetizing. But yesterday there were blueberry muffins on the shelf so i grabbed to and popped it in the toaster with the conveyor belt as i fiddled with the new coffee maker. well, i wasn't paying attention and the muffin shot out and fell on the ground. :(

anyways, after blueberry muffin and coffee time, i tried to catch up on all the massive amounts of reading i had for all my classes and fell asleep while reading (the usual) but i somehow got all my work done before What it Means to be Human, my english class, who many call "what it means to be fucked". nice one kids.

so... my roomie comes back from her class and I am informed that not only did i sleep talk. No, i also sleep.... picked up my alarm clock and held it up to my face... THREE TIMES!!! I have no recollection of this. i didn't take any medication, drugs, and certainly was not drinking on a tuesday night.  I also preceded to ask her, the first time if she was ok, the second time i told her it was late (mind you i didn't have any perception of time while sleeping) and the third i told her she was loud.  She didn't know i was sleep talking, so she took off her flip flops to be quieter and this of course, afterwards made me feel really bad. but anyways, i'm overactive not only in my waking life but in my sleep as well. i just don't give up haha.

so after learning of this i had to do some work at the library...My second english class, American lit  was canceled so that meant i had all day to write my third English class, lit theory and criticism's midterm.  This kid from my class and i made plans to work on it in the library.  I was able to work diligently through the first two hours but OMG by the third? my brain was cooked, and i was staring at my computer screen hoping this little english pow wow would disband because i was getting no where.  so i was hungry so i told him i was hungry and decided i'd go to dinner.

only i couldn't find anyone. jeezzzzz. hehe. obviously people didn't plan their lives around my hunger and when i wanted to eat dinner. ;) oh i'm being such a tool.  but anyways, i found heather and everyone else was MIA so we went to dinner. which was a huge dissapointment of course. i'm going for a record number of wraps eaten in one week. lets see... like 10 or something this week? pathetic i know.


sometimes i feel like Meursault from the Stranger.  Although i felt bad at the moment i don't really care now. If she threw that much of a tantrum over that thank god i'm sparing myself from that later.  so anna and i are rooming together because we already get along. and she is like my sister... i'm getting to that.   what a perfect segway.

anna and I have way too much fun. this room is like ... the happiest place. there are always friends popping in and out. i feel so bad because i don't visit anyone. i've gotten too used to people coming to visit me haha.  but anyways, we are always laughing. we laugh all day long. that is what we do. anna is always either sharing funny youtube movies.... (edcbaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa haha,) or we're having a hypothetical soap opera with microsoft sam and microsoft michelle. oh god. it's distracting yes. ... even though i haven't gotten much work done in this room over the last two days i wouldn't have it any other way.

this room makes me feel so safe. I have the capacity and the means to be myself and to live. just to live and not worry all the time about impressing someone or conforming to their standards of who they want me to be, and the fact that i am not that person.

I'm reading Woolf right now and I really wonder how she of all people battled depression.  Her imagery always admires nature, life, and all these positive things. Yes, her idea of death is a little skewed but i think it is very realistic.  Which also leads me to comment on something really interesting that we talked about today in class.  My professor talked about people who are overtaken by their conscious so far as they cannot function in society. Septimus, from Mrs. Dalloway, is so deep into his thoughts that he cannot escape them and live a normal life.  My professor believes that this is the cause of his suicide; his understanding of the world is not only so odd (as in unaccepted) as well as too different from the rest of society to function.  This holds true for most artists i think of all the self destructive individuals like Van Gogh. No one really understood him, and why he thought the way he did.

Furthermore, we explored what a healthy individual, perhaps like Clarissa from the novel, might feel.  One's thoughts are important to the development of the self because without thoughts we do not exist.  However, like Septimus, we cannot get carried away to the point where we jump out the window and kill ourselves.  There has to be a medium and which medium is in fact the correct balance?  Or is thinking not important and would we lead happier lives not knowing or caring about anything? I don't think so but this novel leads so many questions. and i don't know the answers.

My brain is working again, it's so amazing what some sleep can do.  Hope i didn't bore you with some Woolf but i think it's interesting.  Now i should probably actually go finish the book ;)

<333

I was told I look very European today and I was going to write about the fact that I better hope I look European considering I am first generation from Poland.  And then someone complimented me on my outfit and the fittingness of the coffee in my hand as an intellectual European who takes her coffee after her meal. Ok, so I exaggerated and added in the word “intellectual” but after being flattered, this conversation has proven exactly why my philosophy about stereotypes is true.

 

Is there any reason why a person 100% German American is any more or less multi-cultural than an African American who encompasses customs directly derived from American pop culture? I have no intention of being condescending or by angering anyone and I have not an ounce of racism in my blood.  But I do not understand what makes African Americans multi-cultured.  In a completely stereotypical sense, people think fried chicken, boisterous family functions, lyrical religious services, and crude rappers.  But my question is cannot an Italian be vociferous? Sing in church? Eat fried chicken? And yet, can this same Italian have traditions that surpass foods and attributes such as loudness that any person can posses.  A Polish person’s culture even in America is going to look far different from a true American’s.  A Polish person hangs firanki, these thin curtains on every window, raise their kids not by sending them to corners but oftentimes by refraining their love, and tell their children that every illness is produced by eating or not eating a certain food.  They have cultural differences that even raise questions on gender roles, age, and social status.

 

I criticize this African American culture because I do not see it, oftentimes, as culture but rather race.  The political correctness of this term is what angers me the most.  My English class was reading Achebe’s Things Fall Apart and every time someone referred to a character they made the mistake of calling them an African American.  The novel is about tribalism in Africa and it is about growing and self-sustaining a population upon African soil and avoiding dominance by the whites.  This story has nothing to do with America and these people had nothing to do with America yet political correctness has censored and altered students into saying African Americans when a person is black.  Are Haitians not black? (thank you Dorothy) Are some Mexicans not black?  Are some middle-eastern people black?  And yet, do these people share an African custom? If you had to even think about that I am disappointed.  A black person does not have to be African, nor do they have to be African American.  Black people are black, and this is not a bad thing nor is it anything but fact.  We are different by the nature that we are humans. We are different by culture that is not inherited by one’s race but by one’s values, traditions, and life.

 

I am not black nor do I descend from Africa but tell me now, are these African Americans truly so deeply rooted in their African ancestry?  Do they share the same religion, moral values. Do they practice tribalism?  I don’t have a problem with acknowledging that they have descended from Africa,  Please do not tell me that you are African American because you are black but tell me you are because it is a part of your lifestyle.

My criteria for being of a culture is so strict because I am dominated by it.   When someone claims that they are multicultural because of a name, or because of their race, or their mommy and daddy I am angered because to me multiculturalism means so much more.  It is a life, it is an understanding of the world around me through a lens far different from my Asian roommates, my good black friend’s, and my mixed nationality boyfriend.

 

Change the word black to Black.  Consider that someone of European descent can have a different culture even if they are not Black or Asian. Open your eyes because by causing this rift between African Americans and regular Americans we are only intensifying the problem with acts of political correctness and excessive media.

 

I owe much of this pondering to intellectual conversations with Dorothy.  I hope I have not offended anyone, these are just thoughts. Criticism is welcome.

 

<3

I have some poor scheduling skills. My class got out twenty minutes early and i realized last night that i had to go to the writing center today because i'm going home tonight and will no longer be able to do this tomorrow.  But even though the writing center opens at 10; they do not have someone in until 11:30. what fun.  Not to mention I have read this paper so many times and revised it so many times, had three other people read it and  I really think that forcing me to go to the writing center in my case is excessive. 

but back to my poor planning skills,  i didn't bring work with me to my politics class and in turn to the library. So livejournal is clearly the thing to do here. so i'm waiting.

gahhhhhhh ten more minutes

anyways, this week has been stressful with lots of work before spring break. and i think it's so ridiculous that it is already spring break because the only indication of it is the birds that now chirp in the morning. it's  a little warmer but come on now. it just snowed. this is not going to be a spring break. i cant afford to go anywhere! i don't really know of anyone who actually is doing something other than sleeping. hehe

so i'm excited to do nothing but at the same time; for english majors its what my professors call not spring break but rather reading week.

five more minutes. 

i have two classes until i go home, i have not yet started packing or done my homework for my class in three hours. i'm in the library. boy am i on top of things.

anyways,
i have nothing to say :( so i'm going to go and facebook.
love,
monika

Tell me, why am i so possessed that i must update twice today?

what is it that draws us to people, that tears us apart yet lets us experience the most tender feelings of our lives.  What is it about love that can shatter us or if we're lucky determine the very meaning of our lives? What is it about this completely arbitrary, undefinable, unquantifiable, fickle emotion?

As easily as it can mend one's heart it may break it, and as quickly as it can leave one head over heels it may leave another drowning down under.  I simply don't get it; and i know i'm not supposed to, nor is anyone. but we want to; tell me you don't want to know why this is.

it's a risk, loving someone. you risk your emotions when you like them, when you find out if they like you back. you take a chance when you spend time with them; are they exactly who you envisioned? or are they someone else. You take a gamble when you tell them you love them, and when they discover everything about you.

i think therein that gamble is an amazing complexity, enticing etc. etc. etc. idk what i'm trying to say.

i feel melancholy, too much shakespeare but seriously there is not a text i could relate more to.
"In sooth i know not why i am so sad"


i have something so great, i do not take a minute for granted. i know that i do not have other things. and right now, after a long talk with anna, i feel content. i feel like i understand myself, and my problems, and my family. so i'm ok, i feel sane.

i love you all for your patience,
love,
Monika

my mind is not functioning and has not been for the last few days. it has been in read, read, and read some more mode. and when it comes to do anything but that my brain just kind of putters, spits and then stalls.

i feel overwhelmed? or something like that. or perhaps just out of control. i'm bracing myself for this weekend. i'm scared. my parents are going to be stressed out, my father cannot walk, my sister's birthday is saturday, and for those reasons there is tension.

i have endless amounts of work, with a fried brain it does not work too well.  I've been "studying" politics for hours and yet i only feel like i've dedicated a consistent 15 minutes and seriously do not know any of it.  yet, livejournal, facebook, aim and a dozen other sites keep me occupied.

i feel out of touch. out of control. there is so little i can control. and it bothers me, often.

i'm tired. this weekend was amazing and eventful, and so was the one before, and the one before that, and i need some sleep. i need to catch up on work. i need to clear my head.

i feel like my inability to focus is because of a very fuzzy head.

i don't know how to un-fuzz it. go away chaos. go away tiredness. go away focus issues. i don't want you anymore.

i don't know what i want, or maybe i do and i'm just being pathetic and dramatic and full of myself.

i wan't clarity. and at least this writer's block to dissapear, to be able to read and absorb information, and to not dread tomorrow.

<3love,

monika

P.S. Happy Valentine's Day

So... it is less than three hours into my day and i am already thankful.

thank you warm comfy bed for letting me sleep so well

thank you late classes for allowing me ample time to sleep

thank you christina for saying hello to me and brightening my day

thank you professor for only taking a half hour of my time today

and thank you sodexho for making chicken casaer salad for lunch today. yum.

and finally, thank you nice man at Jazzmen's Cafe for using tip money to pay for my coffee. you have no idea how much i appreciate it/how badly i needed it.

now, lets get back to the weekend.

i saw my favorite band with my best friend.  we go semi-lost in providence, took what seemed like millions of different modes of transportation, walked into a seven eleven to keep warm and contemplate, went into a very shady looking club (which was actually very nice once you got inside), walked all over newport shopping, ate yummy baby caesar salad, spent much of the weekend standing in the freezing cold (so totally worth it) and spent exorbitant amounts of money because we missed a bus.

did i mention hugs from the band? titles as devoted fans? seeing john zox (him pointing at me)? and hearing almost all my favorite songs.

ahhh it was an amazing weekend.  we need to do things like that more often.

i guess i take back everything i've ever said about cities.  if god forbid this experience happened in a rural town, we would still be stranded because there wouldn't have been any taxis to take us home.  the city is exciting. and exhausting. i had a lot of fun, that being an understatement.

There is so much i've been thinking about! i wish i had the time to explain it all. perhaps after the two essays, one test, three books to read, etc. etc. etc. will be over with.

tata
<3

I feel very strange, this place is very familiar and homey. But at the same time i feel so out of place. I feel like so much is happening very fast, but yet, i feel like i'm just waiting. This day is eternal, maybe it is because i used to sleep through most of my free days throughout break. My day would start around eleven instead of ten. It's only twelve-thirty, i have already had one class, had lunch, went to the campus store looking for a cable for my tv, and i've tried to pick up my books. I have no responsibilities, i have nothing to do right now. I'm just waiting until time rolls by before my class. It feels so strange, just waiting. At home I would have work to do, my house to clean, laundry, cooking, or things to do with friends or my boyfriend. Really, i'm just tired. I guess that makes sense though, i had the beginning of last week off but i worked thursday-sunday, and yesterday i packed, so i suppose if I was a normal person working a normal schedule, today would be friday, and i should be starting my weekend. I guess being exhausted makes sense. My roomate has been up since six, how did she do it?

i sleep even if i'm not tired, if i wake up at six and feel very awake, i make myself fall asleep anyways. I wouldn't be able to wake up that early and waste that much time until my first class. I'm dozing off right now which is pathetic.

wow, i just wrote two paragraphs about sleep. So anyways, i'm going to go read/fall asleep/ go to my classes

<3

So i wasn't having the best day, but I love people.


I love my friends. I love that just by caring about them i feel better about myself because i know that everything is worth it.

I've realized the one of the things that puts me in a really bad mood is not having plans. By this I mean, I need to have something to preoccupy me or to look forward to or else i get very upset. I need to stay busy. I know i get lazy, but i need to at least have something i need to do in order to function, even if that things doesn't necessarily get done right away. Basically i'm an ultimate procrastinator.

But anyways, when i do have nothing to do, my bestests always brighten my day. i love it.

There are so many dynamic areas to my life. And not to say that i can spend the rest of my life as a beauty advisor at Trade Secret, but there are some things i absolutely love about it.

I love gossip. Perhaps i love it because i'm in on everything, i'm the girl on everyone's side. I'm the person everyone splurges to. Nicole couldn't wait until i came back so she could tell me all about her bad luck stories. We have unparalleled timing; we're always saying and doing things at the same time. And i cannot tell you how good it feels when your coworker remembers exactly how you like your coffee, and brings it to you without question.

And lovely eccentric Athena. She is hilarious; she is one of those people who will do a little dance when excited, says everything on her mind whether it pisses someone off or not.

And Angela and Christine. I feel like i'm in their little miny circle. They don't generally like the girls that work there now, and she thinks i'm the most sane person there. and that is why instead of working for my first two hours i got a color, and a blow-dry. Not to mention Christine curled my entire head. I feel like her little living and breathing model. She experiments with me in good taste. I seriously had my hair cut last week, i had it dyed today,and my eyebrows done. She has basically created what i look like, not to say i look dramatically different but she has created my image. She gets to see what it looks like one day, two days, or two months after she does it. And this is not some big deal, but i think it amuses her that she has someone's hair to fool around with. And she has fun. i get gorgeous hair, and we have fun.

Now back to this gossip, i really think gossip brings people together. Everyone knows my boss is gay and married, and it has accounted for endless jokes and serious conversations. It has brought everyone together, regardless of anything else. It's not that we hate our boss, we just crack up about it. Ahh it's so amusing. And i'm really a huge fan of being everyone's friend.

I like going into work and being called love, and hun, and gorgeous, and sweetheart, and friend, and all these things. I feel.... accepted and admired. And a word i can't describe. By far some people take advantage of my niceness, but.... overall there just is this sense of everyone has each other's backs.

it's pretty amazing.

i had like.... a half hour break and lost my train of thought.

life is ok.

<33333333

I'm not going to lie, leaving here, well actually i haven't left here because i'm waiting for my dad, but leaving salve.... is sad. saying goodbye to all the people who have been here for me for the last three months wasn't easy. Leaving this quaint atmosphere :(. i don't know what i am going to do for an entire month. work? yes. but it's going to be so strange to have so much time, nothing to read, no papers to write. It's going to be strange to come back to this school and not have lab once a week. in fact most of my lectures took place in a lab. all my classes were in the science wing except for psych and my english class. It is going to be very strange in the spring.

not to say i'm not excited for break. oh yes, i very much am. i'll get to see my favorite people whom i really miss. and they pretty much make everything better all the time. and i heart them... so i'm excited. i just don't know what i'm going to do through all that time.

going to try to figure out what i'm going to do with my life. yes, that is a good idea.
avoid the rents? yeah that sounds good. the last thing i need to hear is about how i'm going to fail at life.
i really want to bake something. i've been saying that for months.
my nails look like crap.
starbucks will be my house

where the fuck is my dad?

he has three minutes to be on time hahaha. that's a joke

oh well. i'm going to go get my fishy ready.

bye bye <3

15 Fun Things To Do In An Elevator...

1. Crack open your briefcase or purse, and while peering inside ask: "Got enough air in there?"

2. When arriving at your floor, grunt and strain to yank the doors open, then act embarrassed when they open by themselves.

3. On the highest floor, hold the door open and demand that it stay open until you hear the penny you dropped down the shaft go "plink" at the bottom.

4. Stare, grinning, at another passenger for a while, and then announce: "I've got new socks on!"

5. Meow occasionally.

6. Holler "Chutes away!" whenever the elevator descends.

7. Walk on with a cooler that says "human head" on the side.

8. Stare at another passenger for a while, then announce "You're one of THEM!" and move to the far corner of the elevator.

9. Wear a puppet on your hand and talk to other passengers "through" it.

10. When the elevator is silent, look around and ask "is that your beeper?"

11. Listen to the elevator walls with a stethoscope.

12. Draw a little square on the floor with chalk and announce to the other passengers that this is your "personal space."

13. Announce in a demonic voice: "I must find a more suitable host body."

14. Make explosion noises when anyone presses a button.

15. Stop at every floor, run off the elevator, then run back on.

it's so strange how each person needs different friends. There is always the friend that listens to you when something is going wrong, and they are there to just sympathize. They are there to hate whoever you are hating at the moment, to rejoice in all the happy things, and they are there for the roller coaster of it all. It doesn't matter if you really should call your professor a fucking dumbass, but those friends are there to cheer on the profanity, so you can let out everything that is bothering you, even if it's not true, or even wrong.

Then there is the friend that kicks you in the ass. The one that, when you make a mistake, doesn't say... aww that's too bad. Its the friend that tells you that you fucked up and that you suck. But that you can be better.

Then, there is the friend that knows exactly what to say to make you smile, and even though they don't really know much, or perhaps they just can't relate, they do and say exactly the right thing. And they don't need to know much to know that something is bothering you. But these people are so strong they are an item of admiration. They seem so confident, so in control, looking at that is all one needs to be inspired.

And then there is the friend that can take your mind off of everything, the kind of person that you never really have much in common but, this kind of friend is there just to laugh with, to make fun of life, to lighten the mood. They're a distraction. It doesn't matter who you are, they can make anything entertaining.

Finally, there is the friend who has seen you through it all, and even though it's easy to forget, they've always been there and it's easy to take that for granted. and it's amazing to think about how much they know, and how much you share. and how indescriminate that relationship is. and how supporting it is. and how it doesn't matter who you are, or how you mess up, they are still there for you either way.

and for me, a lot of these friends are in fact traits found in a handful of people i trust. and they overlap. and not all friends possess all these traits, not one person is entirely one thing. and i'm babbling now.

My major point is, i like having this diversity, these dynamics of all my relationships. and it all means a lot to me. anyways, i have a shit load of calc to study.

<333333333

wow. i feel quite interesting. this week has been strange. i really struggled through it. after my labs i was ready to quit biology and chemistry, along with a misfortunate calc class. but i'm excited. because today, i was able to talk to my dad like a human. and beyond that, i told him that bio was going terribly, and that i wasn't sure about chemistry and that i was considering switching my major. and he asked me what i was thinking and i told him honestly. and he completely supports my want to become a writer. and he said that it's very compatible, not a nine to five job. and he completely supports me. after years of struggling for them to be like this, it just took some distance to acquire it.

i'm so excited. because i never needed their support, or their input in anything. but i guess right now my dad is making a huge difference because i feel ok in going in that direction. i'm not so worried. it's not failure. i feel secure. and it feels good to be able to do what i want and be secure in my decision. picking salve, i felt secure. it was entirely on my own. and picking chemistry initially felt ok because it was logical. and it was ok. and i'm still going to see if i like it this semester. but if i don't i'm excited to know that i can persue writing and everything will be ok. no matter what. i'm gonna be ok (well obviously)

and this week just didn't feel right. it was like... warning week. monika you're making a mistake week. really, it felt like all my classes were screaming "Monika this is not for you".

and this entry by far is not a good example of my writing because it sucks.
i have a splitting headache.
i've had it for three days


anyways. sleep is what i need so i'm going to go do that.

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I'm in a very very good mood.

because i got an 100 on one of my english papers. that counts for 12.5 points. and i got all of them. and not only that. no. as she hands the paper back she says, you're paper was very insightful. one of the best i've seen. Now, i'm happy it was one of the best but the fact that she remembered that? well, now that says a lot. it means that my paper was not only good but impressionable. that is every single writers dream. Not only to write well, but to write memorable, meaningful pieces.

am i supposed to write? is that what i want? what is this all about. life. i wish i had the answer because i could be making a big mistake. chemistry comes easy for me. bio... eh. not the worst. i dont like it. but its ok. and english. I'm passionate about it. It excites me. it means something to me.

and that is where i'm torn. this decision isn't meant to be easy. life isn't meant to be easy. school isn't meant to be easy. but, here is the thing about succeeding in writing. it's not about being able to write well. most the world can write well. it's also about wanting to write meaningful pieces. and aboveall, its about writing something people are going to want to read, want to enjoy. and if my teacher remembered my essay does that mean that i have it in me to do it? can i be the new Steven King, David Sedaris, Mark Twain, or Agatha Christe? maybe. it's nervewrecking. idk what to think.

i'm excited nonetheless. and idk what to think. and idk if anyone likes to read my writing. do i really write well? idk. idk. idk. i never believed it after Warburton graded me so low. i knew he didn't like me, but i believed that if a person was truly good at writing that they would get good grades. and no matter how well i wrote i never got good grades in his class.

scannel was easy.

so i never believed i could write. this possibility is exciting me. so.. yay :)

and we'll see what i'll be doing 20 years from now. maybe i'll be mixing chemicals. maybe i'll be writing for the New york times.

or maybe, i'll be reading the new york times.

anyways,
toodles

So...i've been really lacking in my writing skills lately. i have lost my touch. it is sad. but i'm going to write anyways.

I've been thinking a lot about the different ways people see each other; the way men see women and vice versa; and the differences in these views depending on age. There are so many girls here that think they are ready for marriage. i don't think that scares me. i think it's strange. because i was thinking about it a long time ago when i was going out with that guy haha. yes that guy. it's been so long wow, but anyways, i really thought we could get married. wow. i'm laughing at myself yes. i'm laughing because that is one ridiculous thought. and yes my mother was right about him. but shh... we don't have to admit that.

so as i was saying before i spilled all my makeup on the floor... no one is ready for marriage right now. THis is by far not a bad thing. it's just true. expecting marriage is plugging a relationship into a mold that you are expecting to fill. and i think that things should evolve naturally. otherwise, not only is it a dissapointment but it's forcing something that is not always true. and i don't know if it's a salve thing or not, but i've heard at least three girls say it already. One of them has already broken up with her boyfriend but they still say they love each other and idk. i think it's ridiculous. not committing to that idea doesn't make a relationship more or less substantial and worthy. and we're in college. a true relationship should be able to withstand this without expectations or compeletely planning everything

i'm not done but that's some of what i had to say


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