While I feel slightly bad for not updating this, truthfully, with all that’s happened in the past 6 months, I couldn’t bring myself to write. And I don’t really feel like writing about this now, but at least it’s slightly easier than it would’ve been if I’d tried to do this sooner.

I think I can sum up this year by calling it the worst emotional roller-coaster of my life, especially with the latter half of the year, where I very frequent bounced back and forth between despair and simply being okay and surviving (though I suppose I haven’t really been truly okay, what with everything always lingering in the back of my mind).

The night of July 7th, my father was arrested, because of what he’d done to me when I was 11, and later on to my sister when she was 13. Don’t ask why I never said anything before. This all has been extremely complicated, and I still am… well, never mind.

Mom moved into a new place. We live in the boonies now. David’s been stressed because he believes that someone’s gonna break into our house, of all places, and steal shit. We continue to remind him that we aren’t going to be robbed or murdered here, most likely. Mom wants to move into town though, so David can get a job, and so we don’t have to worry about dying whenever we drive out somewhere.

Kimmie’s… yea, never mind.

My fall semester has been shitty during the week, and alright on the weekends. Though usually the morning afters, I can’t remember, but after the memories come back to me, I can stay assured that my Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights are pretty good. And I couldn’t summarize any of them for you. Somehow, I passed my classes, most important Ex Phys. Don’t get me started on Ex Phys. I’m just glad I don’t have to friggen take it again.

I want a new car. More specifically, an SUV. My first choice would have to be a Sportage. We’ll see if THAT ever happens.

I’m pretty sure the ONLY high point of the year was my week-long trip to Cape Cod with Steve. You remember Steve, right? It was a very eventful week. And I’m definitely going to go skydiving again before the day I die, at least one more time (keyword: AT LEAST).

Beyond that, I’m just doing a good job ignoring reality, as usual. My New Years resolution, which I regret making, involves me dealing with me shit. I much rather go back to pretending it never happened. I wasn’t having as many breakdowns as I started having after shit hit the fan.

Unfortunately, I’m not feeling as positive about the new year as Mom does. I don’t really have anything to look forward to. I’m graduating, yea, okay, but then what? I want to do something with my life, but I don’t want to pursue a master’s degree, not just yet. Of course, I’m gonna need an M.S. if I want to do ANYTHING with my life. When before, I was dead set on orthopedic surgery, now I’m unsure of where to go with myself. And considering I have about 5 months, this whole being stuck at a crossroads thing kind of really sucks. But I’m feeling so lethargic and apathetic, that I really just don’t give a shit anymore. Sigh.

Anyway, enough of this bullshit emo-rant. I hope the rest of you, at least, have a prosperous and successful New Year.

In any event, I decided that, before I completely forget all these non-concrete plans I have, I’d list them here, and that way, I’d NEVER forget about them :3 So, without further ado…

Firstly, before anything, I absolutely have to take the GRE’s. Preferably before August, when the test changes, and apparently becomes more of a pain in the ass. I took a passing glance at the price; $160.

Paying for torture. Oh what fun.

Another thing I absolutely want to and almost need to get is a new Ipod. I sold the last one I had to my sister. Unfortunately, that one inexplicably disappeared. Of course, that means someone stole it, but unfortunately, without any solid evidence, I can’t beat the crap out of my prime suspect.

I have a few places in mind I’d like to travel to. Not nearly as amazing as you would expect, like Miami or Cancun. Besides touring Salisbury University something before I apply, I really want to head on down to NJ. My biffy, Kristen, is turning 21 in July. Couple that with the fact that she’s a crazier partier than I am, and the fact that she doesn’t live too far from the Jersey shore, and the birthday weekend is going to pure non-stop epic raging the whole time. And I would LOVE IT.

Something I’m trying to keep in mind is the probability that Mom, Kimmie, Ricky and I will be moving out to Sherburne, hopefully. That means I may have to go job hunting. I’ve been contemplating what occupation would get me the maximum profit; so my top choices would be lifeguarding (because of the insane hours, but at least it’s in the sun), waitresses and bartending (bartending moreso, but both would be specifically for the tips).

Other things I’d like to do, but probably not be able to afford, would be to get the two tattoos I want, and the three final ear piercings (upper helix, rook and conch) I want. The two tattoos are relatively simply: on my left side, on the side of my ribs, I’d like to get two pink cherry blossoms, with or without petals (probably with). Underneath it would be the phrase “Carpe Diem,” and it would be dedicated to my awesome mom and sister. The other tattoo would be an anklet tattoo around my right ankle; yet another Latin phrase — “Ad aspera per astra” (pardon my spelling) — which means “through difficulty to the stairs”, but I might switch it around to “to the stars through difficulty”. It might just stay the way it is, since everyone I’ve asked likes that one better anyway, but just to make sure prior to actually getting it, I’ll have a poll on Facebook or something. You have been warned. That tattoo, btw, I dedicated to myself, as a reminder of what I’ve been through, what I’m going through, what I’ll go through, and how no matter what I’ll end up a better person. Think of it as my symbol of strength.

Ah right… before I forget, and I almost did, I think I’ll try an internship at my PCP’s office in Sidney. I just have to jump through a bunch of hoops first. But it will look good on the resume, so I can’t complain too much (I just need to actually get in TOUCH with the folks first…)

Alrighty, I think that’s more or less the really important stuff. I’ve forgotten or failed to mention a couple things, like hopefully taking Kimmie to Great Adventure, but if it doesn’t happen this summer it will DEFINITELY happen next summer, before I go to grad school. And now that it’s 1am, I’m gonna stop writing about this and get my collective self out of here OMG I ALMOST FORGET ONE THING!!!

Warrior Dash. I’m not even gonna attempt to explain the awesomeness of it. Just check it out here and revel in the epicness of this thing.

If I told you Saturday was probably the best and worst night of last week at the same time, would it make any sense to you?

I’ll start with the good first: Saturday was Senior game for my men’s lacrosse team, in which we won with a good score of 16-3. Overall, everyone played a great game, and I was just happy for the seniors that they celebrated one of their last home games with a great win, and a conference win at that.

After the game, A few of the players were telling us ATS’ “Yea come down to Castaways! We’re celebrating! Come down!” For those of you who are unaware, Castaways is a bar here in Ithaca that’s popular for playing live music.

So me, the once-anti-social, afraid of life girl, now found myself driving down to this bar. At first I was just mingling, not really having much to say. I was kind of annoyed that I’m flat broke and couldn’t afford to drink. Luckily, one of the coaches bought me a drink. So I took advantage and got a Long Island, knowing those get me tipsy, and more outgoing, rather quickly.

After my first drink, it got a bit easier to chat with folks, so I did just that. Someone else offered to buy me another drink, and I asked for a second Long Island.

Things are pretty good at this point. I’m not drunk, but I nicely tipsy at this point and enjoying myself. Oh, right, remember that guy I was telling you about in my last blog post? Well, he and I were flirting a bit more obviously, which was all very fun. He bought me my third drink, and this time I decided to get a schnapps and sprite.

So I’m drunk at this point. We were all planning on going to Kilpatrick’s, another bar in town, and I guess first we were going to pregame (if you can pregame when already drunk) at one of the lax houses. So we did that, then went to Kilpatrick’s. I had a bit more (a bit?) more to drink, and was, for the most part, trashed when we all moved from Kilpatrick’s to the Ale House. And I suppose I was too drunk at this point because I had only done so much as go to the bathroom when one of the bouncers kicked me out of the bar.

So I can’t even see straight by now, let alone walk straight, and I drunkenly decide “Well, I guess I’ll walk home.” I kind of feel a little bad because I just left and didn’t let ANYONE know. At this point, my phone was somewhere in Castaway’s because I did the cool thing and left it there, along with my car. I’m still not entirely sure how I actually made it to the entrance of campus. But I came across a friend, who observed that I was “really drunk.” Bless his heart, he helped me up onto campus, with me rambling jumbled words the whole way, and helped me up to my Garden, where I burst into tears and cried and rambled for something like an hour.

Oh, why did I cry? Well I suppose this would be a good time to mention the worst part of it.

So, remember that guy I was telling you about in my last blog post? Yea, well, I met his girlfriend.

… Yup. The guy I was FINALLY flirting and being flirted with, the SAME night I start doing so, I find out that, even if he was interested, it’s not like anything’s ever gonna come out of it since he HAS A GIRLFRIEND.

And for a little while I was wondering if she was making it up because I had seen no indication of my crush being taken. Up until that point everything came across to me as single. And then she made it obvious that he was taken by putting some cutesy bf/gf photos on Facebook.

So I burst into tears upon arriving home and I was probably drunkenly sobbing about how “every time I start to like a guy this happens,” and how I was just overthinking everything like I always do,” and so on and so forth. I then proceeded to attempt and fail at toasting a bagel (it was black when I pulled it out), stick it in the fridge anyway, and then pass out in my bed after typing up a super trashed Facebook status:

Figures. I was amazingly wrong. Got kicked out of a bar b/c I was too drunk. My car’s at Castaways, idk where my phone is, and I’m surprised I’m made it back to my apt. Best never ever. FML.

And then the next day, I walked the hour to Castaway’s to get my car.

Yup, crazy weekend. ‘Nuff said.

Truthfully, I’ve thought of a ton of cool and interesting subjects, but I was so lazy, I never went about writing in them, and eventually, I either forgot about them or they lose relevancy in the here and now. For example, I was gonna write about Jay Cutler and those shenanigans, but then I completely didn’t. And now it’s almost April and that news is long past.

In any event, I think I’ll discuss what’s currently going on, but I will be as vague as possible, because I don’t want to compromise my position (haha, it sounds like I’m on a secret mission or something).

So, there’s this guy. And I think he might be interested in me. At least, I think there’s a possibility; I notice him looking at me a good deal (and he catches me looking right back). So, he might be interested. Or, I might be doing what I usually do and am simply over-thinking things. Maybe he’s looking at me because I have an obvious wedgie or something, I dunno.

Anyway, we keep looking at each other. And in the meantime, we don’t talk much. And I can’t bring myself to talk to him. It’s ANNOYING. I couldn’t even say “Hi, how’s it going?” the other day, and it’s just like AUGH! GET A HOLD OF YOURSELF! THIS ISN’T THE 9TH GRADE! THIS IS COLLEGE. YOU’RE AN ADULT, OMFG.

So, I told myself this morning, I’ll make of point of at LEAST saying hi to him when I see him. I don’t necessarily have to create conversation, but maybe saying hi would be a good start, right? This is all so terribly frustrating. Guys, you think girls are complicated? Well YOU are impossible to read. I can never tell what’s going through a guy’s mind. Thus, I get super paranoid, like “Is he just looking in my direction because there’s something he notices around me, or is he just zoning out? Is he looking at me? Is he checking me out? Oh my god is my hair okay? Do I look presentable?”

And etc., etc., etc.

In any event, I’m going to try and cease this nonsensical freaking out. Maybe then I’ll be able to get something DONE. You would think that with age comes a lesser chance of acting like a retarded teenager, but I guess not…

Currently, he was enjoying the three-pound “Beefed up Burrito” at the local Mexican restaurant. This was his usual choice, but something tasted off about the delicious rolled up and stuffed tortilla. Maybe the meat was an extra day old or something. Who cared? It wasn’t really taking away from the awesome flavor, so he finished it anyway. He left a $5 tip on the table before he headed out the door.

Things didn’t feel much better by the time he got back to his house. Maybe there was something in the burrito after all? In any event, there was only one thing to do when he wasn’t feeling right: play Call of Duty.

*****

Three hours later, and he was feeling terrible. Or rather, his stomach felt like it was going through a meat tenderizer. The Xbox had long been abandoned, and he couldn’t do much more than lay sprawled out on the couch, groaning as his stomach clenched and curdled.

“What’s your problem?” His roommate, Chris, had paused on his way to the kitchen.

“Fuck…” Jarred managed to force through clenched teeth, “I think I ate a bad burrito.”

“Tough luck, bro.”

That was about the point where his intestines started to make some really weird noises. And then, Jared was scrambling to his feet, tearing down the hall and into the bathroom.

He made himself comfortable on the toilet, patiently waiting for whatever it was to come out. And it felt like a Big One: his butt felt on the verge of exploding. But, for some reason, nothing was coming out. What, was he having constipated diarrhea or something?

Taking a deep breath, he clenched, hard. He clenched every muscle he could think of that would aid in this seemingly unnatural process. It sure as hell felt unnatural.

And then, something strange happened. It came out; a long, loud fart. He was expecting that. There was a loud crash, a shout of surprise and suddenly there was a draft in the bathroom, and water was spraying everywhere.

“What the fuck man?!”

That was his other roommate, Mike. The fact that he could hear said roommate’s voice meant that something very bad had happened. Slowly, he turned around, and he couldn’t believe the sight that met his eyes. Suddenly the fact that his pants were at his knees didn’t matter in the least.

There was a huge, gaping hole in the wall. The toilet? Long gone; it was sitting in the middle of Mike’s bedroom.

“What just happened?” He asked, completely unsure of what to take from the situation.

“That’s what I want to know! What the hell did you do?!”

“Dude, I don’t know! All I did was let one rip!”

“Whoa…” Chris appeared from the kitchen, only able to stare in awe, “Dude, Jared, you farted our toilet through the wall?”

Jared could only glance helplessly between his roommates. “Man, I don’t know! How is that even possible? I mean, yeah the burrito was bad, but this is insane.”

“That’s for sure,” Mike muttered sourly, glaring daggers at Jared, “You’re taking the couch. I’m taking your bed.”

“Are you serious? I didn’t do that on purpose!”

*****

“This is bullshit,” Jared grumbled before taking a swig of beer. The bar was noisy, but that was the least of his problems. Ignoring the fact that he lost his own bed, how was he supposed to replace the toilet, the indoor plumbing, and a good portion of the wall? Sure, he had a part-time job, but really, that barely paid for his rent; forget any extra stuff, like food (or burritos).

Basically, life sucked.

“Hey, Jared…”

He glanced over, finding Michelle, a close friend of his who had many of the same classes as he did. Her company would probably cheer him up a little.

“What’s up, Shells?” he grinned, though his smile faded when he noticed a worried glint in his friend’s eyes.

“Can you give me a hand?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder at the pool tables, where a group of burly guys were hanging out, “That blonde guy won’t leave me alone.”

It was easy to pick out who she was talking about. Raising an eyebrow, he stood up, and strolled over casually. Michelle stayed by the bar, watching him like a hawk.

“Yo,” he greeted nonchalantly, catching the man’s attention.

“What’s up?” Blonde Guy asked, looking slightly more than tipsy.

Jared indicated Michelle over his shoulder, “She was saying that you were creeping her out. I was just gonna ask if you could leave her alone?”

Blonde Guy sneered, facing him fully and standing tall. “Oh really?” he shoved Jared, “You gonna make me, pussy?”

“I didn’t come over here to start shit, dude,” he reasoned, remembering that, if he got into trouble with the law, he’d he barred from playing on his sports teams. “She’s a friend of mine, and I’m just looking out for her.”

Blonde guy shoved him harder. “Butt the fuck out dude. I don’t see you two hanging all over each other, which means she’s single. She doesn’t want to be harassed? Tell her to get a boyfriend, or stop dressing like a skank!”

“Hey, don’t call her a skank.”

“Make me!” With that, Blonde guy punched him across the face, the force of it knocking him into the pool table. He straightened himself back up slowly, wiping the fresh blood from his lips. This really sucked. He knew self-defense wasn’t gonna stop a 3-game suspension for fighting. Really, what the hell was he supposed to do?

It was sudden, and random, but his stomach began curdling. He probably shouldn’t have had so much beer…

As the Blonde Guy approached him, Jared let out a burp. And it was huge: it shattered the windows, the glass bottles, and the lights. Everyone in the bar was screaming and ducking for cover. And Blonde Guy, well, he had his hands clamped over his ears, writhing on the floor and screaming in agony. He had been close enough to the noise for his eardrums to explode.

Jared could only stare on in horror. “Holy shit…”

*****

“Dude, you didn’t even hit him and you owned him! What the hell are you on?” Chris was excited about the ordeal.

“You explode a wall with your ass, and you destroy a bar by burping,” Michael wasn’t as amused, considering he was still roomless.

Jared shook his head, still in complete disbelief. “That burrito was really bad…”

“If this keeps up, I’m not gonna let you live here.”

“Hey, you kicked that guy’s ass by burping, right?” Chris spoke up, “You could be like a superhero guy, and take out robbers by burping in their face. Flatulence Man! What’d you think?”

“If they paid me,” Jared retorted, rolling his eyes at the insanity of it all, “Maybe I’d be able to pay for all the damages.”

Still…

To be continued?

———————-

Yea, this was a contest entry on a writing website I’m a member of. I figured I’d post some of my stuff here. I’m assuming it didn’t get voted through (I don’t actually know yet) because it’s so outrageously ridiculous, but all in all, I like how it came out.

The prompt was to write about an ordinary person suddenly having extraordinary powers, in 1200 words. I wrote 1,191 words :3

Enjoy!

To explain the title to this post, I believe I have post-nasal drip. And it really sucks. Choir was brutal because I’ve been coughing so much I lost my voice and can’t hit the high notes I usually have no problem hitting.

I’m doing much better in band than when I first started out. Oh, I didn’t tell you? Yea, I joined the All-Campus Band. Never been in a band before. You should’ve heard me the first rehearsal: it was BRUTAL.

I finally have a car, thanks to my wonderful cousin Damion.

Truthfully, I’m not as excited about writing this as I was before. Things aren’t so amazing right now. I’ll tell you all more when the time comes. I think, in the meantime, I’m gonna end this post.

“‎……I still think it’s wrong to monopolize on her pain by writing about it in your blog, and then getting everyone to read your blog using facebook.”

You know, normally I don’t care when people don’t know me all that well. I’m not really the type of person that opens up to everyone easily, well, not anymore, and I know this. Because of what happened in high school, I have trust issues. But, something all of my friends should know by now: I would rather die than do anything to intentionally hurt the people I hold care about.

How dare you? You think I’m the type of lowlife who would do that? You have NO idea how much my sister matters to me! I didn’t write this blog post for the sake of increasing blog traffic. I wrote it because I had no one to turn to here at school, and I needed some kind of support and insight!

I would NEVER do ANYTHING to to harm my family and friends. I’m as loyal as a dog, and as a result of that, I was sometimes treated like one too. And I endured it all, just for the sake of having them as friends. You were just as blind to that then are you seem to be now. Ever notice how I don’t flip out at you whenever you piss me off? Like when you threw your keys at me? And when you scared the crap out of me, still recovering from that car accident last May, by zooming around a corner? And like when you tripped me into knocking over my computer? I never said anything because I was willing to be aggravated, over and over, just so long as you remained my friend.

This has NOTHING to do with my fucking pride, you oblivious person! You insulted my loyalty! A true friend wouldn’t question my loyalty to my loved ones, AND THEY SURE AS HELL WOULDN’T ACCUSE ME OF TAKING ADVANTAGE OF MY SISTER’S PAIN FOR FUCKING BLOG TRAFFIC!!!

If “The things [you] say represent the person that [you are],” then you are too BLIND for me to deal with. I don’t appreciate people who accuse me of being a self centered bitch. Have a nice day.

So, earlier today, I blocked Kimmie on Skype and I unfriended her on Facebook, because she told me, literally, “don’t fucking talk to me,” and I, out of spite and anger, decided to do just that.

Why had she gotten quite mad at me, you might be wondering. Well, it started with her complaining about her apathy for life and whatnot, to which I kept replying “if you don’t like what’s going on, do something about it.”

Eventually, she posted a blog (the first one on her homepage), which I had read. I left a comment, and, for good measure, I told her over Skype: if you “probably won’t” talk to me about solving your problems, don’t figuratively ask for help in the first place.”

“Are you TRYING to start a fight or something?” she asked in response.

And I replied, (this is all word for word, by the way), “I’m not TRYING to start a fight. I’m making a statement. Don’t call for help if you aren’t going to use it. No one needs your crap.”

To which she got really pissed and shortly afterward, I blocked her.

This thing with Kimmie is rather old history; most of you who read my blog know that my little sister has a mood disorder. Occasionally, she’ll fall into a funk in which she won’t care to do anything except lay in bed all day, regardless of the consequences. And yes, for a while, she used to cut herself (though I don’t know if she truly stopped doing that; I merely assume she has).

What she does a lot when she falls into these funks is she’ll complain about how she doesn’t care about failing school and how she hates everything. Usually, when I’m not trying to cheer her up by joking around, I try to more seriously encourage her. I give her advice on things she can legitimately do to make her situation better. But every time I do, she comes back with some reason or excuse as to why she can’t.

So when I just start agreeing with her and tell her that there’s nothing that can be done, she gets angry and accuses me of not caring, and then goes on about how she hates everyone and how they don’t help her. But when I do try to help, like I said, she doesn’t let me. When I just stop trying to help, she gets hurt, and when I tell her I don’t like her attitude about things and the fact that she needs to get her life in order so as not to screw up her future, she gets pissed. So what am I supposed to do? I can’t win no matter what approach I take.

Still, I was really harsh with her when I had said what I said, though I was being straightforward; if she doesn’t want help, she shouldn’t ask for it, and I don’t need to deal with her crap if she’s going to be inflexible about it. But, I was being harsh. And I do worry.

Sometimes, she’ll say something during these funks like “You know, I literally want to kill myself right now,” or, for a specific example, “I deserve so-and-so because I didn’t kill myself today,” and it scares me. Because I don’t know if that’s just her way of trying to be manipulative or if she’s literally thinking about committing suicide. And I sometimes wonder, if one of these days, my temper and words might actually be the straw that breaks the camel’s back.

No matter what’s done, it’s not what my sister wants. I don’t know how to help her and it hurts when I try to and fail, because she’s my sister. Hell, I can safely say she’s my closest friend. She’s my best friend, and I can’t even give her what she wants? What kind of sister does that make me?

I don’t know what to do anymore.

For me, this year has been a roller coaster. A lot of ups and a lot of downs (feels like more downs than ups). For the sake of organization, I’ll try to order everything chronologically:

I finally grew fed up with Kasedy and her antics and abuse. I called it quits after the fight we got into back in February. You surely remember that one, right? The blog post in which I finally let it all out? Yup, that one. Kasedy, up until a week or so ago, seemed to think we were friends again. I finally told her how I felt. And funny story: she wrote back saying “yes well, at times it felt like you were using me.”

Using her for what, I REALLY don’t know, because she has nothing that I don’t already have nor do I want. But whatever. I’m done with her, this time for good.

I sustained my first ever head injury in March. And while that’s not really a good thing, I’m kind of glad I experienced it. For me, I find it’s easier to recognize and diagnose the injuries you’ve already had, so you truly know, or at least have an idea of, how it feels. Concussions, for the record, aren’t really all that fun whatsoever, so I recommend to anyone thinking about getting a concussion; Don’t do it.

Later in the spring semester, I tried to get back into soccer. Unfortunately, I have the hunch that at this point, it really is too late to have any real chance of making the team. A few times, the question of retiring soccer for good has come up, and so far I’ve successfully avoided answering that question every time.

I was given the reward of getting into a car accident by my good friend Fate for not doing as well as I could’ve with classes, probably. I occasionally think back to that and wonder how in the world we all emerged from that more or less unscathed. Since then, I’m a bit more jittery behind the wheel, and prior to driving some distance, the night before I’ll dream about getting into some horrendous accident. It makes me a bit more paranoid on the road, and I can’t tell if that’s a bad thing, because a nervous driver is almost as dangerous as a stupid one. But I’m hoping I’ll get back to being a bit more relaxed behind the wheel eventually.

The rest of summer was a bit more eventful. I did a lot more traveling than I usually do. I wrote about those happenings in an earlier post, so I’m not going to repeat myself.

This past fall semester was extremely stressful for me, both financially and academically. Somehow I still ended up with a 3.25 GPA. so I guess if I want a 4.0 I have to be pushing suicidal.

I’ve learned that I don’t always have to ask questions and try to figure things out. Sometimes, things are as they are, and I need to just appreciate what it is for what it is. I’ll enjoy things without asking questions from now on.

And, as you’ve probably heard, Mom and Dad are officially divorced. And, as every day continues to go by, I like Dad less and less. Ignoring the drama over the divorce itself, he’s become a much bigger asshole. Now, it’s always about him, and whenever SOMETHING happens, it’s NEVER his fault, it has to be SOMEONE’S fault, and it ALWAYS has to be done on purpose and in order to make HIS life difficult. His selfishness knows no boundaries. And at the rate it’s going, I’m probably going to grow fed up with him and his bullshit. Especially since no, he’s not getting better contrary to his belief; he’s gotten about ten times worse.

Moving into this year, I’m hoping things look a bit more up. It’d be nice. I’m pessimistic though, so I guess I’ll just bite my tongue and wait and see what happens.

Do I have any resolutions? Unfortunately, I haven’t thought of any. I didn’t accomplish last year’s, which kind of led me to just not declare a resolution. But if I do something big, I’ll let you all know. (I will, however, try to update this more often)

In the meantime, I’m going to go back to relaxing and recovering from last night’s antics. Let my mind zone and avoid thinking, because sometimes thinking puts me in a bad mood…

But in any event, I hope everyone partied hard last night, and that they have a prosperous and wonderful 2011. If you’ll excuse me, I’m off to do some writing.

Watching them lose was very hard for me, not because I’m a student at IC and they are my football team, but because I could see and feel the frustration the players were feeling. And I could understand and empathize with it. It was hard because they’re my team, but I haven’t been with them more than 2 weeks. We don’t have much of a connection, not like Jackie, the senior who’s been with them since pre-season. Indirectly, the athletic training staff is a member of the team, but it’s hard to have that connection when you yourself haven’t been with them that long.

So because of this, I found it hard to do much of any interaction with the athletes after the game. If they asked me to wrap ice, or check/re-dress a wound, I did so, the only words I’d give them being “Okay, you’re all set,” or “the bus is that way.” There was only one athlete I said more to, and it wasn’t even all that much: “Just get past this and do good in the game next weekend. You got this.”

I can’t tell you what ‘this’ is, except that, if you’re an athlete yourself, you’ll understand.

Once we returned to the training room on campus, I ran into Andrew, a defensive lineman. I had remembered that during the game, he hurt his ribs (someone stepped on him, I think?), and so, I asked him “How are you feeling?”

And perhaps I should’ve been more frank and said “How’s your chest?” Because I’m pretty sure he took that as a naive girl’s attempts at trying to be consoling, and so, he replied, slightly sarcastically “Just peachy.”

I’m really glad I’m good at biting my tongue, because I was tired, I was cold, I was freaking out because I was dealing with an emergency involving a friend (it’s been sorted out, more or less), and my first impulse was to say “Quit bitching and whining. You’ve got Cortaca next weekend and then a chance again next year.”

And like I said, I’m glad I kept my temper in check. I went back to my room and looked up the roster, figuring I might as well learn SOME of the football player’s names before I finish my rotation with them after Cortaca. And there I discovered that Andrew is a senior, meaning he has no more chances after this.

Immediately, I thought of my last soccer game. By last soccer game, I mean last career soccer game. Intramurals don’t count. And no, I didn’t feel bad, because I was still annoyed at him. I’m not naive. I know first-hand how it feels to lose the game that ends your playing career for life. I know how it feels to not only lose that game, but to also lose horribly. 3-0 is a decently sized point gap in soccer. It was the same thing that happened today that happened 4 years ago to me; our team just wasn’t finishing like we usually did. An off game, and it’s a shame that everything ended because of an off-game.

I doubt they’re aware of my history. And it wouldn’t be surprising; it’s not like I’m playing soccer now. It still irks me that they seem to just assume without a doubt that I’m just a girl that has no experience with the blood sweat and tears you sacrifice and the heart your pour into to being the best you can be and win. And it irks me that they seem to think that I don’t understand the pain of that career-ending loss. I understand better than you think, boys. I just wish I could express that better with you. But it’s really hard to talk that intimately with people I don’t really know.

Throughout the game today, I was continuously brought back to that game. I couldn’t even begin to convey the frustration I felt during the second half once they scored goal after goal, 3 within 20 minutes, it was ridiculous. And then the heartbreak. I couldn’t stop my tears. And I fought with all of my willpower. I had too much pride to show that kind of weakness. And as I was receiving the little 2nd place medal and honors, nothing I did stopped the crying. Actually, writing about it and remembering it is making me emotional all over again. My eyes keep watering up even as I type this.

This is the passion and love I have for this sport. I just wish I could tell the other guys that. Not that it really matters at this point, since I’m only spending, what, one more week with them anyway. It’ll be just like the soccer team; once I finish my rotation, we won’t even glance at each other and say “hi” in passing =/