Old Strangers

One of my least favorite things about vacation: acquaintances.
I'm very against what Larry David calls "stop and chats". You know exactly what I mean; it's the required minimum conversation when you see someone you know or even vaguely used to know. I'm terrible at them because the entire time, all I can think about is the fact that this person hasn't bothered to contact me within the last year, and I could really care less. The high school alumni stop and chat follows a very basic format, including the required "How's school going?", followed by the mention of a mutual friend, and a vague "You know, we should hang out sometime!", then, "Merry Christmas, see you later". It's so fucking forced. I've done my best to just avoid seeing people altogether. No, I don't want to visit the high school- the tiny freshmen just scare me- why are they so small? Even the upperclassmen seem so young now.
The college experience does so much to distance me from my hometown. It's already hard to remember what I acted like when my world was centered in such a sheltered environment. But now I'm making myself out to be such a worldly, educated individual, which is far from true. I've actually realized that I still have so much to learn. Maybe that's the different from high school to this point. I can allow myself some scorn for the tiny world of high school teenagers while admitting to the fact that, in the scheme of things, I'm really not that much more advanced. I just have a little independence under my belt.
I overheard my mom on the phone yesterday. She said, "Yes, living off campus is a lot of responsibility, but she has a good head on her shoulders". It's good to know at least one person thinks I'm doing all right.

I'm Breaking Out

I'm feeling so ambivalent about this winter break. My feelings range from sheer excitement to dread, though the dread is less easily explained. I know I'm excited to see friends, namely one special someone, but who's keeping track? Look at me now; instead of cleaning and packing for tomorrow, I sit on the edge of my bed, laptop in its elected position, writing a blog. I've sucessfully avoided the issue for a few more minutes.

I think the negative aspects mostly deal with lack of freedom and personal space. Those, at least, are the ones I can pin point. There's no doubt I'll have less freedom; I'll be at my parent's house, still without a car. Also, I'm still job-less and the lack of money will keep me even more tied down. The lack of space has to do with a shared room, and multiple younger siblings. I've kept very few things in New Hampshire; when I moved this summer, I fully cleaned out my room. I felt great about it at the time, excited, independent. Why not? It's a fantastic feeling to be moving out of your parent's house. Too bad I'm still living there over breaks, so when I went back for Thanksgiving I felt the weight of staying in a bare room that used to be mine. Sure, sure, I'm being over-dramatic, but that feeling was very real on my first night back. I'll be okay over this month; maybe I'll decorate a little so I don't feel like such a visitor. Anyways, that's a big part of the negativity I'm feeling.

The positives? Family- I really do enjoy them, just in small doses. I'm psyched to see my sister. I haven't seen my friends from high school for more than a day since August, and some I haven't seen at all since then. I'll just be adjusting to loads of spare time, which sounds relaxing but always drags on by the end. Plus, like a cherry on top, there's Jared. Or maybe he's the main dish. I don't know, I sound ridiculous.

Basically, it's not that I don't want to be home, it's that I'm not sure where home is, and that's frightening.

I'm craving eggs. Food first, then packing.

Rude Awakenings

Quite a few things are making me feel nauseous this morning- namely, my tendency to oversleep, a certain south street parking ticket, terribly strong coffee, a glaring lack of Christmas presents, and my "weak figure drawing skills". I'll attack them one by one.
I can't even handle how much I oversleep. I've come to expect it every single fucking morning. Whether I have to wake up for class at 8 am or whether I need to get work done on a Saturday, I reset my alarm until I fall back asleep or I never reach consciousness and basically turn it off in my sleep. I am so good at sleeping that I never even wake up. That happened this morning.
Last night, after hours of studying, I set my iTunes alarm for 7 am; plenty of time to get ready sans shower and leave by 7:35 or so for an 8 am final. I woke up this morning, groggy as always, and rolled over to squint at my cell phone clock. oh. my. god. 8:13. What the FUCK. My alarm did absolutely no good. Jumped out of bed- sweatpants, shirt, vest, bag, and slip-ons all somehow found their way on my body. No bra, messy hair, glasses. I was a mess but at least I was out the door and speed walking up my killer hill of a road. I stressed the whole way to my final, partially because I could not seem to walk fast enough and partially because, for all I knew, this final was in a completely different building from the usual classroom. I walked to the usual room anyways, (sigh of relief, there was my class), and sat down in sweaty discomfort to take the test. I couldn't seem to concentrate for ages because I kept berating myself for being so irresponsible. It was over quickly. I didn't do well. I couldn't bring myself to care. Typical.
Next: the tale of the parking ticket.
Actually, I can't bring myself to do the story justice because I've already told it multiple times; suffice to say, I went shopping yesterday, got a lame ass parking ticket the minute before we returned to the car, and ended up lost in North Philly. Takes loads of skill, I know.
The nasty ass coffee is because I'm still a mess and I had to show up at work like this. I doubt they mind, but I feel like shit and needed coffee to clarify my brain. All it's doing is making me jittery. It's not a pleasant coffee experience.
I'm dreading Christmas shopping, not because I dislike the shopping aspect or the desperation of other shoppers (that's just amusing), but because I've realized I just don't have money for anything decent. I'd love to get my family something wonderful, but all the stories about broke college students are true. It's really sad when all I ever spend money on is art supplies, groceries, and bills. I even went shopping yesterday and have absolutely nothing to show for it. I should be so happy that it's the end of the semester, and really I am relieved, but I always end up spending too much money over the holiday, and I probably won't have a job over break. It puts a damper on the whole idea of the holiday, added to the fact that I don't think I believe in the origins of Christmas anymore, leaving me with a completely commercial holiday, which is scary as shit. Enough on that.
Over the semester, I began to develop this secretly cocky attitude about my artistic skills, and even though I ignored the superior thoughts at first, I started entertaining them. Bad idea. I seriously let my head get way too big, maybe because I was just relieved that I wasn't terrible at drawing. OK, so I'm not bad. I'm still not that good. By the time the final project rolled around, a self portrait, I was confident in my skills and spent over six hours on a charcoal composition. I wished it looked more like me, but thought it was a accurate description of the contours of the face, etc... Too bad when it came time for my portfolio review, my professor said, "You know, I never realized you really struggle with figure drawing. I wish I'd realized it sooner." Yeah, you think? I wish you'd realized it sooner, because I let myself get all conceited when really I needed loads more instruction. Gah. I've been having a serious problem with secretly getting too full of myself. It's terrible. I think the reason I feel sick about it isn't cause I'm not as good as I thought, but because I've been acting like such an idiot. Pride comes before... a smack in the face.