Thank the lord. A week where I don’t have to worry about:
- the forensic trial
- the jar ecosystem
- finding parking
- not being late to class
- not having to leave class early for work
- over sleeping
Day 64/365: March 6, 2014
All Grown Up: When was the first time you really felt like a grown up (if ever)?
The very first time I felt grown up would have to be during my senior year in high school. One thing didn’t make me feel “grown-up” it was a number of things that I’ll list and get into more detail.
- Getting my first job.
- Getting my license.
- Getting my first car.
- Getting my first paycheck.
- Opening up my own bank account.
- Having to budget.
- Getting my CNA state license.
All these things made me feel grown up. All of these things happened in a span of a school year and sometimes whenever I look back, I wondered if I ever had time to sleep.
I know getting your first job and car should happen when you’re about sixteen. I was a little late. With over-protective parents I had to be very persistent getting what I wanted. I had to prove to them that I was ready for a job, for a car, for a bank account and so forth.
I remember applying everywhere that previous summer. Not landing a single job because I applied so late into the summer. I was always told that college people beat me to it and because I wasn’t eighteen yet, some places that did consider me couldn’t which I found frustrating.
My first job, Subway. Job title: sandwich artist. Not something I told people because it was and forever will be an embarrassing job title. I remember asking for more hours so that I could get my drivers license. Sure enough it worked. I remember practicing all summer, driving up to school and just drive in circles. I learned how to drive in my mom’s Suburban. Ever since I got my license I never sat behind the wheel of that vehicle. I refuse, its way too big and I’m a 5’2” girl.
Getting that license the first time meant everything to me and I didn’t want to test with my mom’s car so my parents bought me a car. 2005 Chevy Equinox that I miss ever so dearly. Ladybug was what I called her. It was a glorious day and a stressful one since I had to drive across town a good three to four times.
Going back to when I worked at Subway. Getting that first paycheck made me feel like the coolest person in the world. The money I worked hard for and no one could tell me if I could spend it or not because it was all mine. I remember walking up to the bank and pulling out my ID saying: “I would like to start my own bank account.” Getting that receipt showing my balance made it official.
Budgeting sucks. That’s the only part I hated about feeling “grown-up.” Having to calculate and making sure I had enough to last me the rest of the week annoyed me. Most of the time I’d leave my card at home to restrain me from buying things I didn’t need.
Lastly, getting state certified to becoming a CNA. I spent the last semester of my high school career taking seven classes. Six normal classes from 7:30-2:00 and an after school class across town from 3:00-7:30.
I never really had a break. I actually had to quit my job halfway through the school year because I’d usually work 3-9 and sometimes 10. That and at the time my goal was to be somewhere in the medical field and it’d be better off investing my time in that class than work at some fast food restaurant.
Ending it here because this seems incredibly long.
This never gets old, I could watch this all day.
I’m still upset that he got traded. Captain Cally needs to go back to the Rangers.
I haven’t fully deactivated my Facebook account and last night was the first time in two years that I logged back on. Since my account was deactivated there’s absolutely nothing on my profile other than photos and tagged photos.
Photos of when I was heavier, when I had a pizza face, with people who I don’t even talk to or consider friends anymore. It felt as if it wasn’t my profile. Looking through what I’ve said through my wall, other people’s profiles and photos… it’s as if I don’t recognize that person…
That person… me. The old me, I honestly don’t remember. I never realized how much I’ve grown as a person. Who would’ve thought that two years could be enough time to make a complete 180 and have life the opposite of what used to be.
Back to looking at the photos. I stumbled across five photos with the same person in it. That person is up above all this text. That person… is Max. My almost, not quite there relationship. If I can even say that.
Let’s just say emotions came rolling back. Not sad emotions necessarily, happy ones. The photos reminded me of how much a good friend he was to me. After all, it was my fault for falling in love with him.
He was always there to put a smile on my face. Always making me laugh. There was never a dull moment with him. That lasted a good three months. After that, it went downhill. I liked him more than a friend and I was never really good at hiding how I felt. So he knew, he’s known for awhile now.
Yet, besides the fact that he knew he was still there. He was still my friend. Still talking to me, putting a smile on my face. That’s what I miss. I miss my friend. I miss the stupid jokes and remarks he’d come up with. I miss having him around and having casual conversations. I could keep going but I’m just going to say that I miss him. I’ve already said that but I can’t say that enough.
But we’re two different people now. We’re two different people who haven’t talked or seen each other in two years. Who knows if that friendship could be rekindled. Who knows what will and could happen. I’m still hopeful, but not expecting too much. High expectations always lead to disappointment and being disappointed is the last thing I want.
Day 63/365: March 5, 2014
Perspective: Write about the last disagreement you had with a friend or family member in their perspective.
The last disagreement I had with anyone would have to be with a friend. Probably with Rochelle when we were at the gym.
You always complain and yet never fully apply yourself to do the hard stuff. You always quit when things get tough. I don’t understand why you don’t push yourself hard enough. You know that if you want to see the progress, you gotta work hard.
Another thing, you need to stop being so self-conscious and just not give a fuck about what other people think. She doesn’t understand that the girls around here aren’t as badass as they perceive to be. They’re all bitches who love to start shit.
Who cares if guys are watching you do squats. That should be a good thing, guys are looking at you. Give them something to look at rather than being an awkward person standing there waiting for me to finish my set.
And from there she gives up, rolls her eyes and plugs in her earphones in. She let’s me do whatever it is I feel comfortable doing and she continues on with her workout.
Cam Talbot part-time goalie, part-time ice twirler [x]
Day 62/365: March 4, 2014
Twenty-five: There are 26 letters in the English language, and we need every single one of them. Want proof? Choose a letter and write a blog post without using it. (Feeling really brave? Make it a vowel!)
This should be fun but I need to think of a topic to type for this writing prompt. But before I decide on what I’ll write about the letter I choose is the letter e.
Lovly and I hav bn frinds sinc th third grad. Sh’s bn a lif-long frind and I wouldn’t know what I’d do without hr. I’ll nvr forgt th day w first mt. I was about nin whn w first mt. Bfor popl cam ovr my mom ylld at th thr of us for touching th coins w thrw around th prvious night.
Lovly and anothr girl, Nomi, cam ovr and sat on th staircas. Th two wr playing with th coins, tossing thm around and laughing. Annoyd, I cam down th stps and ylled: “Stop that! Stop touching thos coins! It’s not yours. You’r not allowd to touch that.” My mom hard my rmark and told thm it was prfctly fin for thm to touch and toss th coins around.
Who knw that in that xact momnt th thr of us would be frinds. Sinc thn, th two of us hav bn insprabl. Through thick and thin. W hav our shar of fights and argumnts but nothing too drastic too jopardiz our frindship.
Th both of us hav this mothr-daughtr typ of rlationship. Sh’s always actd lik a mothr and I’v always bn the youngst on in th group. I rmmbr the days whr my frinds and I calld hr mama swan. Sh’d always b th on who paid for my mals and othr things. I don’t know how sh managd to do that sinc sh nvr workd throughout high school. But sh did.
I bliv that th two of us will b frinds for a rally long tim. W’v bn through too much to throw our lvn yars of frindship. Sh’ll always b my frind, no mattr what happns. Sh’ll always b th prson that maks m laugh for no apparnt rason. Thr’s nvr a dull momnt with hr. Sh’s always happy, always cracking joks. Sh’s on of the most hlpful, sincr, caring, hilarious popl I know. As clich as this sounds, sh’s on in a million, a tru frind. I’m rally glad sh’s in my lif. I don’t know what I’d do without hr.
And I’ve never seen so many misspelled words in my life. My OCD is getting to me and I should just press publish now.