I'm so fucking tired.

And extremely bored.

I got the new Sims expansion pack. University Life. But I can't play it, because my laptop is in my room, and I'm at Boulevard. So I'm just sitting here. Bored as ever. Cold as hell. And tired as fuck.

I think I shall go watch some danisnotonfire on YouTube. He's really funny. And pretty cute, too :P

Dude, I slept like the dead last night. When my alarm woke me up, before I opened my eyes, I thought I was at home, in my room. Then I was wondering why my alarm was going off on a Saturday. Then I opened my eyes, and was like, "What the fuck, why are my walls white!?" Then it occurred to me that I was at college, and I had to get up for class. Then I was wondering how late it was, because I felt like I slept so long. But it was seven-thirty. I had gotten nine hours of sleep, which felt amazing. But I'm still tired...

But I realize it's my dreams that help me feel like I've slept a while. The more I dream (or the more of my dream I remember), the longer it feels like I've slept. If I don't remember my dream when I wake up, it feels like I've been asleep for an instant and no longer. So I like dreaming! 'Cause not only do they make me feel better-rested, but they are pretty interesting some times! I would love to go back into a dream and re-experience it.

I get to go home next Friday! Spring Break is in a couple weeks, and I get to see my BESTEST BUDDY!!! Maybe I'll get to see Sammy, too (: I know I won't get to see McKayla ):

And just because I call Jess my Bestest Buddy, it doesn't mean I love her any more than McKayla or Sammy. I think we're closer because we spent so much time together in the recent past, whereas I haven't spent that much time with McKayla or Sammy in such a long while. Since high school, really. But all three are my absolute best friends. I couldn't handle life right now without them. I talk to them just about every day, be it on the phone, texting, or online. Or via a blog or the Sims (gifting! :D), haha. I've even tried to make an extra effort to be available and talk to them more, because I miss them. And I'm just so grateful for them. They mean so much to me. Some people don't have a "best friend", they only have friends. But I have three best friends. It's incredible.

Um....

Hi. Salut. Moshimoshi. Hola. Ciao. Hello. Privet. Bonjour. Hallo. Kon'nichiwa.

I, surprisingly, don't feel depressed.
Just bored.

And slightly guilty and overwhelmed, because I have a fucking shit ton of homework. I haven't been reading the short stories for my one class regularly, and my notebook is due tomorrow for a midterm grade. I'm supposed to write a little log at the end of reading each story and reflect on it. Fuck that shit, man. I don't have time for this!

But I had a good night last night! Only to wake up to an awkward morning... But let's start with the wonderful night.

I actually went out (I feel like a meme-face-thing should be going "ermagerd" right about now. But, I hate those meme-face-things and "ermagerd".) and did something somewhat social (HOLY FUCKING SHIT!). Gridline Base Band (the band my roommate Rachel sings in) had a show at the "community center" for my apartment complex, and she really wanted me to go. So I went. They were pretty damn awesome. This may or may not have been the first live performance of a band I've been to. (I feel like I've been to another small thing before, but I don't think so. By far the closest thing to a concert I've been to, which is pretty lame.) It was cramped in the small room of the "community center" and there was a small crowd of about... Twenty to thirty people? But I had fun. And Rachel kept thanking me, telling me it meant a lot to her that I came. I don't understand why. I'm just her roommate, why would she care if I came? But it made me feel special because it made her happy that I went. And I'm glad I went. I really enjoyed it. They're pretty good live. And Dan was playing an electric guitar, which sounded fucking sick. It was great. He has a pretty good voice, too. Rachel really does, too. And Dan thanked me for coming to the show, too, after it was done. I don't understand why it was a big deal. They were the ones who did the cool thing: they performed. I just listened to their awesomeness. They're not really my genre, but I still enjoyed it. They're good.

And the weirdest part is like three guys smiled at me. This one guy even kept telling me I should smile. Like, guys don't pay attention to me. They don't notice me. But last night, three did. It kinda felt good to not be invisible for once. And not invisible in a not good way.

But the most uncool part was the fact that I saw two kids I went to high school with (Michael and Noah, both in the class after me). As Facebook tells me, only one of them actually goes to Purchase (Noah). The other must have been visiting. It was so weird to see them, though! And after some Facebook research (stalking), I found out another kid, Hagan, goes here. And I already knew, before I was accepted, that a kid Andrew is here. All of them were in the grade below me.

But this morning, I woke up to their photographer sleeping in Rachel's bed. It took me about thirty minutes to realize this.

When my alarm woke me up (at eight so I could take my antibiotic on time), it was him stirring in the bed that actually woke me up (I had sat up and looked over, and was like, "Oh, shit," as I scrambled up). So I quickly turned off the alarm, and sat there for a little while. I finally took my pill, and was staring at the floor when I noticed the same boots the cute (but perhaps gay) photographer was wearing last night. I watched him a lot, because one, he had an awesome outfit, and two, I wanted to know if he was gay or not. So I remembered these boots. Confused, I re-evaluated the person laying in Rachel's bed. I noticed the lack of blue hair, and the length of his body under the blanket. Definitely too long to be my short roommate. Then I was like, "Oh, fuck, that's the photographer."

How he ended up in her bed, I still don't understand. I think they got shit-faced. But I'm kinda mad that he was here. It was so fucking awkward. At what point in the night did he come stumbling in and pass out on her bed? 'Cause by the conversation they had, she didn't walk him in here and point out her bed or anything. She was shit-faced, too. So how did he end up here? And, not to mention, it's rude that he was here, sleeping in her room, without her here. If she was here, he'd have been a guest. Without her here, he was just intruding in my space. The bullshit is really getting old. Rachel has no respect for me being her roommate. She also keeps unplugging my powerstrip so she can plug her fan in and smoke weed in the room when I'm in Connecticut Tuesday nights/Wednesday mornings. And, what pisses me off is that she leaves my powerstrip unplugged. If you're going to do that, at least have the fucking decency to plug it back in. So I unplugged both the lamp and the fan and plugged my powerstrip back in. I'm just so pissed at her sometimes. Then she goes and thanks me and tells me it means a lot to her that I went to the show. Ugh, whatever.

I really just want to move out of here. I'm tired of being here. I hate it. But, at the same time, it's different from the safe environments I've always been in. I feel like I've grown a little since coming here. 'Cause I'm really on my own. Not just at the college, but in the fact that I'm taking buses to and from Connecticut. Like, is this really me? Doing things on my own, in the real world?

The next step of growing up and maturing is getting a job.

I don't know why I don't have one. I just don't. Babysitting and work study at the library have been my only jobs. I want a job, 'cause I miss money, but I don't know where to get one. A cashier position looks scary (I'm terrified of people and socially awkward). I hate mundane tasks such as restocking and re-shelving. But, I suppose you don't really need people skills for that, so I could do it. I'm scared that my lack of experience is really going to fuck me up in the real world. I'm scared that it will? That's implying I have doubt about it actually doing it. No, I know that it will. Employers will look at my résumé, and be like, "You've never had a job? Why not?"

And what am I supposed to tell them? "I'm lazy and terrified of the real world!"

"Oh, okay. You seem to show great potential for this job, and you're exactly the person we're looking—"

Yeah, right. Fucking no.

So I'm screwed.

And is it weird that I'm listening to "Hero of War" by Rise Against on repeat? Its brutally raw emotion just... I don't know. It's a depressing and sobering. When I listen to the lyrics, even after over fifty plays, I still get teary. This song breaks my heart. The reality of war helps me realize that my pitiful life is just that: pitiful. It makes me realize that whatever I'm going through isn't that bad. And it makes me want to go out and hug a soldier, because they are the most amazing people in the world. And it makes me want to be able to do something to stop the war so they don't have to go through this. I feel horrible, because they're going through this to protect our way of life. To protect our country. They shouldn't have to. My well-being isn't worth them going through this. But I will never be able to thank them enough for it.

I'm bored. I have so much homework I should be doing, but I really don't feel like doing it. Not to mention I'm nervous, because tomorrow night my story is being critiqued in class. In this class that I particularly hate because the way it's set up, I'm way, way, WAY too petrified to speak and get credit for participation. So I feel like I'm going to fail this class because I can't speak up.

But beyond that... I think the semester isn't too bad. I talked to my Sociology professor, and was able to hand in an assignment I missed because of my urinary tract infection. And U.S. Short Story... Well, I'm not even sure. And Lyric Poetry, I think I'm doing fairly well in that, too. Even though I really don't participate in class (again, too scared to open my damn mouth), I think I'll do alright. But that fiction writing class, which is like the most important to my major of Creative Writing, is the one I'm afraid of failing.

I'm tired. I want to go back to sleep, but I can't, because I'm at Boulevard. (My dad's place of employment.)

Speaking of my father and his places of employment... I saw Rob last night :P He's just so cute! He came in, and my dad was saying something to me, then he's like, "It could be worse. You could look like Rob."

He was like, "Gary, that's fucked up."

And I'm like, "I'm just going to keep my comments to myself." Obviously, my comments about looking like Rob... I have no comments about my dad being fucked up, haha. But I do, quite obviously, have comments about Rob! Ah, he's just so adorable. I would love to get to know him better, to see if there's a decent personality behind his good looks. But I will never know. Yeah, I should never say never (which is a contradicting saying in itself, but I'll let that one go). But I can almost assure you I will never get to know Rob on a personal level like that. Like I said in my previous post, I'm not his type. But, even if he is a decent guy and doesn't care about "types", I'm way too shy and scared to talk to the opposite sex like that. Not to mention that I could never flirt with him or try to get his attention with my dad sitting right next to me. It would just be way too fucking awkward. So, I'll just accept that Rob and I will never happen. But, one can dream... Haha.

One of these days, I should really just grow a fucking pair and talk to a guy. Get a guy. Stop being so damn shy around them. Actually go out and LIVE for once in my fucking life. Maybe I need to drink. Maybe I'm like Raj and need to drink before being able to talk to the opposite sex. Hahaha... I'm so messed up! Socially awkward, actually. Well, both.

What a fucking terrible semester I've had so far.

First, I miss my bestest buddy.

Second, I hate having a roommate.

Third, I hate this apartment.

Fourth, I had a wicked terrible stomach cramp for a week.

Fifth, I had a nasty urinary tract infection immediately following that stomach cramp.

I'm still trying to get rid of this UTI. And for the first time since Tuesday night, I'm able to pee freely. But what a fucking time I had with that UTI. I went to the health center on campus twice, then to the hospital to see a urologist. I have a CAT scan this Friday. Then I have to meet with him again. Hopefully, nothing is bad.  Hopefully my bladder isn't shot. I don't want to be catheterized for the rest of my fucking life. I already have that fucking ACE procedure. I don't need a catheter, too. Jesus fucking Christ, I just want to be fucking normal.

Thinking of all these fucking medical complications makes me wonder why I would even think about finding a guy or having a relationship? Guys want normal people. They don't want fucked up medical complications. Unless you get one of those soft, timid guys who are like, "Oh, I still love you even though you have to completely do everything through a medical procedure, and you have scars and bandages and other awkward things all over your body." Yeah, fuck that.

That's exactly not the kind of guy Rob is. Maybe Ian, but not Rob. And I like Rob, not Ian. But, like I've said many times, dating Rob wouldn't work. He works with my dad, and I'm not his type. Maybe I'm not giving him enough credit, but he doesn't seem like the type who would date my type. That's how it wouldn't work pessimistically. But logically, it wouldn't work either. He works with my dad. He talks like a guy around my dad. I'm sure he's made comments to my dad that a sane guy wouldn't make to a girlfriend's father. If it's not so bad that my dad would kill Rob (which he may or may not do), it would surely be awkward. For all parties involved. Which is why I'm just going to think Rob is attractive, and leave it at that. And not look for boyfriends at my dad's place of employment.

Even if Rob is just so damn adorable :P