This new dry spell, or whatever, in which I can no longer find in me the inspiration to write a story, is getting really annoying. I have tried to write. Tried. But every time I do I lose interest after not even the first paragraph has been written. Even if I try to hammer out some more, thinking that maybe, if I keep writing, I can get the juices flowing, I can tell it doesn't sound any good since my heart's not in it. Last night, I tried to start a story. About two paragraphs in, I gave up. I just wasn't interested.

(Whoops, somehow accidentally posted this after that paragraph with a keyboard button.)

I guess . . . my inspiration is gone now. It's terrible, but getting a boyfriend of my own and living in my own romance story (of sorts . . . I wrote a personal essay about it) has made me lose interest in writing a romance story. Most of my stories began when something happened in real life or in my imagination, and I thought, Hey, it would be funny/cool/interesting/a good story/etc if I wrote a romance story in which the two main characters met that way. And them boom, I had a story. Because I wished that the things I wrote about would happen to me in real life. But now that I've met my boy (we both play the trombone in the marching band) and got together with him (via text messages) and am happy with him (we're going on nine months), I have no incentive to write about what I once did.

I've already realized all that, and realizing all that came with the other realization that maybe if I wanted to write about something else, my muse would come back (or I'd get an entirely new one). I don't mean to sound conceited, but I don't want this unpolished talent of mine (unpolished because I've receive any sort of teaching in creative writing) to go to waste. If I'm good at it--good enough, anyway, to receive over a thousand reviews on two of my stories and make into the SKoW Hall of Fame--then I should pursue it, even if it's just as a hobby. . . . Right?

I don't know. I miss writing. I miss sitting in front of my computer and typing away, full of ideas. I've received several reviews/PMs from fellow FPers letting me know that they've been through the same dry spell that I'm going through right now, and that it will pass eventually. I hope so. Because one of the ways in which I defined myself was as a writer, but if I'm writing, it's like a part of my identity has just ceased.

Enough waxing poetic. I'm done for today, and enjoying the freedom that is my summer vacation. Until the next time!

New userpic courtesy of counterglow.

The last day of classes was Friday, May 1st (well . . . technically it was yesterday, but really, Saturdays don't count). At Cornell University, the last day of classes for the spring semester is known as Slope Day. This is because the main activities occur on Libe Slope, which is a giant hill separating upperclassman dorms from central campus and is a bitch to walk up. Cornell University gets semi-popular bands and singers to come and play, and there are other fun things to do. Mostly, what the students do is get drunk, go up to the slope, and then sit around being drunk. (Go ahead and look up "Slope Day" on Wikipedia if you want. You can also do a Google image search of "Libe Slope.")

My Slope Day was fun up until around . . . 4:30? in the afternoon when . . . something happened and wasn't necessarily resolved until later that night. And then this morning, it was 100% resolved, so everything's good.

Now finals week commences. Finals don't actually begin until 7:30 Wednesday night, but I have consecutive finals on Thursday, Friday, Monday, and Tuesday, so I need to study study study! Physics I: Mechanics first, then Introduction to Biomedical Engineering, followed by Multivariable Calculus for Engineers on Monday and Introduction to Organic Chemistry and Biological Chemistry on Tuesday. Wahoo, should be exciting. But the fun doesn't end there! After that I have to clean my room and the upper floor of my townhouse (with my roommate), pack my shit into boxes and suitcases, and in general get my life together so I can go home.

I just finished a problem set that was techincally supposed to be due on the last day of classes, but the TAs told us we could turn it in next week before Wednesday. And I bought a strawberry smoothie. Looks like now is the time to study for Physics . . . or maybe I'll call my mom instead. We'll see.

The good: I won't have classes for a week, meaning that I'll get to sleep in!

The bad: All my friends has break last week except for one who will be in London all this week. And I'll miss my boyfriend, whom I hate right now because he'll be in Hawaii while I'm eating potato chips, watching too much TV, and gaining weight.

I think I'd argue that the good outweighs the bad, though. I'm glad to have a break right now, even if I still have to do homework. And it's only a week long so the boredom//missing the bf won't be so bad. At the beginning of this semester I went back to campus a week before classes actually started--I wish I could be there more often when classes aren't in session. It was fun just hanging out with my friends and still being at school while not having to worry about homework or classes or anything. That won't be happening this summer, but maybe the next. In fact, this summer, my boyfriend is doing an internship in D.C. (he lives in Seattle), so I'll actually get to see him during the summer. I wish he didn't live so far away though--then at least we could visit each other during the longer breaks. Oh well.

Remember how in my last post I talked about how I stressed out about getting him a Christmas present? Well, he's turning twenty (old! I'm still eighteen--and will be until September) on Thursday, so I need to get him another present. *sigh* I guess I'll figure something out.

And the worst news of all? I lost the nice, expensive, pretty earrings he gave me for Christmas. =( =( =( =( We went to University of Virginia with the pep band last weekend to play at a lacrosse game, and I left my earrings in the hotel room. I called them back on Monday, but they said no one had turned in any earrings. I want to throw myself off a gorge because I was so depressed and I felt so terrible. He hasn't noticed yet that I didn't wear them all last week (even though I usually wore them everyday), and I hope he doesn't because I'm scared of telling him. Whenever I think about it I just feel so horrible and sad because I like those earrings and he liked that I wore them all the time. And because they were fairly expensive, from what he told me. (He didn't give me an exact price,but he basically implied that they were a lot of money.) I fail. Dammit.

Other than that, not much to report. College is hard, Cornell is harder, and Cornell engineering is hardest, blah-de-blah. (I'm sure your schools/majors are tough too, I'm not trying to say I have it worse than anyone else. it's just that the comparative "harder, hardest"  adjectives worked so well in that sentence.)

Ciao.

You would not believe how much I stressed out about getting my boyfriend a Christmas present. I fail epicly at presents. Usually, when trying to buy a present for someone, I wind up getting them a gift card or even worse, plain old cash. But this is my boyfriend we're talking about. Sure, it's only been two and a half months, but we see each other day and things have been getting serious . . . so I didn't want to get him some shitty present. Especially since he apparently spent a relatively large amount of money on mine (comparatively, it wasn't that much since he has a rich grandma who will randomly send him two hundred dollars when she feels like it).

I ended up taking the suggestion of my mother (I know, I know! But I would literally sit there at night thinking about what to get him and managed to convince myself that anything I could possibly get him was a bad idea). So today I went to Best Buy and bought him a digital camera, and tomorrow I'm going to go down to Washington, D.C. to take touristy pictures on it since he's never been there (he lives in Seattle) and he's into politics--slash government in general (he wants to be a lawyer). I've managed to convince myself that he won't like this present either, but I didn't have any better ideas. He might appreciate the pictures of D.C., but I don't know if he'd ever even use the camera . . . my mom thinks he will, but I feel like he won't. I mean, he's got his cell phone (on which I have never seen him take a picture) and his MacBook Pro which takes pictures with cool effects.

*sigh* Like I said, I'm just bad at presents. Eh. He tells me he think he'll like since I put so much thought into it (which I didn't, really . . .) and/or because I know him so well (I do, but when it comes to presents I all of a sudden don't know anyone well. Except with my one friend Mary who is really easy to shop for--I had her for a secret Santa last year, and I bought her these cool gloves, chaptstick, and . . . ?  I actually remember what else, if there was anything else.

Hmm. College has eaten my life. I'm watching Sydney White right now. Other than that, there's not much else to say.

Once more I should be working on my computer science project. I only have one thing left, but knowing how much I fail at this class it'll probably take me forever. . . . BUT I decided to give the few of you who are actually reading this an update:

The guy I was talking about in the last post is now my boyfriend. (He has been as of Monday evening.) His name is Brad or Bradley. (I first knew him as Brad and then he later hinted that he preferred Bradley // once told me he liked when I called him Bradley, so now I'm trying to switch over.) He is a sophomore here majoring in government, and he hopes to one day become a high-profile lawyer. We met because we both play the trombone in marching band. I can talk to him about both the silly and the serious, which I definitely can't say for my poor ex-boyfriend Nick. The fact that we are now dating has not seemed to change our friendship/relationship much beyond small affections (today was our "first kiss," although it was hardly significant since it was just a quick peck in the library before he went off to take a prelim), which is definitely something I prefer to when I went out with Nick and the shift between "just friends" and "boyfriend-girlfriend" was incredibly drastic. Bradley and I attempt to see each other every day, which, granted is much easier than it was for Nick and I to see each other due to the whole college campus thing, but still. He seems more interested in seeing me often than Nick ever seemed. And to be perfectly honest, I like Bradley much more than I ever liked Nick. I mean,  I really like him, much more than I think I originally realized. It scares me.

As I said, we began our relationship Monday evening, after a nice, long talk. That was when it finally came out in the open that we both like each other [more than friends], but then the question was where we wanted to take that. He's been hurt a lot in the past when it comes to girls, so he was scared of being hurt again. I was (and still am, basically) scared of giving someone the power to make me horribly depressed. And even though we didn't really discuss this, I'm scared of letting someone having so much control over all my emotions. He makes me very happy, which, yes, is a good thing, but the fact that any one person can control my happiness that much is, frankly, kind of terrifying. I'm also kind of scared of how much I like him, especially when you consider that I only first met him at the very end of August. I'm startled that I can feel so strongly about any person, and nervous that my emotions are so far out of my control on this matter. (I don't know if you would know this about me, but I actually take pride in being able to control my emotions well. Their being way out of my control like this is really scary for me.)

He seems to like me as much as I like him, and I'm content with that. He makes me very happy (and I seem to make him very happy), and I'm not going to screw around with that because I'm a wuss. Obviously, things aren't serious right now anyway since we only started going out two days ago. We'll see how this proceeds.

I should be working on my computer science project right now. I have that due Thursday (but it will take me for-freaking-ever, I guarantee you that), I have a Chem prelim (basically a giant test) on Tuesday that I am so ridiculously unprepared for, I have math homework also due Tuesday . . . *sigh*. Stupid freaking Cornell. Stupid freaking engineering. Stupid freaking school.

But back to the subject line, there's this guy here who I really like, and I feel like a stupid lovesick teenager, and I hate it. I hate losing control over myself, and the fact that I can't control how I feel about this guy or the fact that I think about him all the time drives me crazy. Katie keeps telling me we should go out because we'd be cute together, but that really means nada. There is a chance that he may like me back, I won't deny that. We text message nearly 24/7 and in general talk a lot, about both silly and serious subjects. At the Lehigh party that we went to on Friday night, we hung out the entire time, and at the end of the night when we crashed on a couch, we just sort of talked and talked. It's crazy how much I feel like I can tell him after only knowing him for a month. I think our section (the bones [trombones]) believes that there's something going on between us, and on Saturday someone apparently asked Katie if he and I were going out. But I really just don't think he returns the feelings. There are certain signs missing that would indicate that he does. Of course, the fact that I think that could just be me-----

UPDATE: He returns the feelings. How ironic that I would find out while writing about it, right? My friend Kathryn called and told me the whole story when she asked him if he liked me. His response was something along the lines of, "Yes, I like her. I enjoy spending time with her. I'm not actively seeking a girlfriend, and maybe it would be nice to have one, but I'm not really worried about it. If I did go out with a girl, though, it'd probably be her. If something happens, it'll happen." Which basically means that he's not going to be making any moves, and if I want this to go somewhere, it's on me. (The problem being that I don't make moves.) Kathryn said he said something about the perfect moment, and things will just fall into place. (Pfft, I don't believe in "the perfect moment." I also don't believe that if it's meant to be, it'll happen, like Kathryn said.)

But besides the fact that I don't make moves (especially since Kathryn couldn't give me a definite answer about whether or not he would respond, and from what she said, I don't think there is any guarantee. After all--"probably would be her" is different than "would be her"), I don't even know if I want something to happen or if I want this to go somewhere. Part of the issue was that I didn't know if he returned the feelings and it was just me floating around liking him while he simply thought of me as a good friend. Now that that's resolved I don't actually know what I want. Last night I said that I did want to go out with him, and I listed a couple of reasons why, but now that it's a feasible possibility I don't know. Part of it is the risk: I don't want to lose him as a friend. What if we start dating and something happens and we stop being friends at all? Or what if we break up and there's all that ridiculous awkwardness? (Awkwardness that would be hard to avoid, seeing as how we're in the same section in marching band.) Even if we never go out, I'm sure my feelings will subside eventually and we'd still be really good friends.

I'm satisfied that he likes me back, I'll say that much. I'm glad to know that my feelings aren't going unrequited like they have so often in the past. I was talking to Katie about what Kathryn said and about how i feel, and I think I'm just going to wait a week or two (or three or four) and see what happens. See if I still like him down the road, see if maybe something does happen between the two of us, see if I realize whether or not I actually want to date him. I just can't wait too long, because if I decide a month from now that I want something to happen, his feelings could have subided by then.

Oh, Sarah. You're crazy. And I don't mean that in the silly kind of way.

(Those are lyrics from Relient K's song "College Kids," by the way. Not necessarily how I feel.)

Thanks all, for your supportive commentson the last post. I had a hard time the first week or so that I was here (on Tuesdsay night I totally broke down and sobbed over the phone with my friend Heather, and then with my mom), but things are getting better. The only times I really feel homesick now are when I'm not doing anything, or something along those lines. Like today, I was in my room after class thinking about how I had no homework due tomorrow. I decided to start my math homework due Thursday, but I kept getting distracted so I went outside and sat on this big grassy area outside one of the dorm buildings for a long time and finished it. Mostly, this not doing anything is because I don't really have any friends yet. My only bona fide friend at this point is pretty much just my roommate, but I'm meeting a whole lot of people that I like. I just wish I were meeting more guys. Yeah, I like girls, but I need some guys to counterbalance that. I dunno. Whatever. In any case, I think it's mostly my personality keeping me from being necessarily friends with people. I know that when I went to high school and didn't know anyone, it took me until sophomore year to really consider these people my good friends, even if I did eventually consider them friends by the end of freshman year. It's just hard because it seems like all my other friends have these awesome sounding friends, and, like I said, it's pretty much just me and my roommate right now.

The thing is, it doesn't make me as unhappy as I think it should. I'm pretty antisocial, honeslty. I'm an introvert, definitely not a people person. I went to a marching band party on Saturday night (it was basically a normal party, except only marching band kids), and I didn't really do anything. For the first half I sat round with Katie (my roommate, who's a saxophone player), a tuba player (named Andrew), and two horn players (Bill and John--John is pretty cool, and Bill had been really drunk the night before). The second half I spent sitting on a couch in the dancing room watching everyone dance. I didn't drink anything. I told people it was because I didn't want to have to use the bathroom while I was there, but it was mostly because I'm uncomfortable with the idea of drinking alcohol. I'm terrified of losing control or being someone who's not myself or doing something incredibly stupid. Yes, the thought crossed my mind that I would be more outgoing and stuff if I drank, but I don't want to be the sort of person who needs alcohol to have a good time. Pretty much I am just not a party person. I prefer smaller get togethers with my close friends, or friends in general--I don't like big masses of people. They scare me. Large groups of people (especially strangers), in general, just sort of scare me.

Like I said, antisocial introvert. Not a people person.

I'm sure that I'll make friends soon enough. Honestly, friends are the least of my worries--and were the least of my worries while I was going through the intense homesickness. Maybe I'm being too cocky, but I'm confident that I'll end up with a nice group of friends. I dunno. I'm okay, for now. Classes are a little slow as far as homework goes, but today was also only the third day. Although I'm so used to my old math classes, where we took an hour to go over something I understood within minutes, and where I was one of the smart kids, I'm afraid for my math class now. We're moving quickly, and I technically didn't learn in school some of the stuff I'm supposed to know. I don't wanna be that stupid slow kid everyone's annoyed with, but that person will probably end up being me. Office hours and tutoring, here I come!
 

You want to know how I really feel about going to college?

I don't want to go. Not at all. I'm afraid to admit it to anyone, even myself, because doing so acknowledges that: I am not at the correct maturity level for my age; I am as abnormal a teenager as they get; I'm too dependent on my parents; I'm not craving independence like I'm supposed to. Everyone I know seems so psyched to finally leave home and be at college, to enjoy that freedom. You're supposed to be unendingly enthusiastic about leaving home.

I don't want to do my own laundry. I don't want to go eat my meals in a cafeteria. I don't want to clean my own room and bathroom. I don't want to take college level courses--especially Calculus for Engineers, which I am nearly positive I will fail since I hardly have a sufficient background to be in it--and do all the associated work. I don't want to have to pull all-nighters to finish everything. I don't want to work harder than I worked in high school. I don't want to leave all my friends and make new ones. (I'm such a shy introvert. How am I gonna make new friends? I can't even imagine how I became as close with my current friends, especially since they were all strangers to me four years ago, when I started high school.)

God, my parents have spoiled me beyond belief.

I know college is supposed to be the best four years of your life, but right now, everything about it terrifies me. Especially the freedom. The fear that being on my own invokes is second only to my fear of being swamped in schoolwork and failing Calculus. That's supposed to be the reason everyone is so psyched to go to college in the first place. Getting away from your parents! Doing things on your own! Not having anyone tell you what to do!

Disclaimer: Everything your parents have ever done for you you now have to do yourself. They can't take care of you anymore. You have to.

I need to pack. I know. There are three main reasons I haven't started yet:

1.) I don't even know where to begin packing my life away.

2.) Won't I need stuff to wear up until I actually move into the room?

3.) Packing makes the experience more real, and right now, even just thinking about living on my own makes me shit my pants.

It's insane how badly I wish I could just stay this age forever ("Seventeen Forever" -- heck yes, Metro Station) and repeat my senior of high school over and over again. What is wrong with me? Does everyone else feel this way, too, but not say anything about because, like me, they know they're not supposed to feel this way? Why am I so effing stupid? Maybe all I need to know is that I'm not the only one who feels this way. That it's okay to feel like this.

But still, I fail. Epicly.

So for some reason, my Word document for AED is corrupted. It's not that big of a deal since I have all the completed chapters saved as their own individual files, but everything I had begun for the last chapter I can no longer access. Meaning that I have to start it over. I wasn't too far into the chapter (if I had been, I would probably have jumped off a cliff or something), and I remember the general gist of what had happened so far, but now I'm all discouraged from writing the chapter because I feel like the second version won't be as good as the first version. I spent forever and a half today looking for programs that could recover corrupted or deleted files (and do it for free) but I only found two. The first one was a demo version and wouldn't recover everything, and the second just won't recover the document at all.

Awesome.

In other news, there was an annual send-off picnic tonight for first-year Cornell students in the D.C. area at the house of these two Cornell alumni. I RSVPed to it, but then I totally forgot it was today. So while I was eating dinner with my parents (my brother went to the county fair--which, as far as I'm aware, isn't the typical fair you'd think of with rides or anything--with his girlfriend), my mom went, "Wasn't that picnic tonight?"

Cue me going: "Awwwwww, crap! I fail!"

I'm so forgetful. I have this theory that it's because most of my brain is used up remembering things for school. I don't have enough storage capacity for other, more trivial (or not-so-trivial) matters.

Oh, and four of my friends and I attempted camping Thursday and Friday at Assateague Island. Never Again. I got a thousand and one bug bites, and they keep itching. As far as the camping went, though, we did virtually everything except sleep in the tent. Around ten o'clock at night, when we were all ready for bed but playing charades since we weren't tired, we saw a bunch of lightning and heard thunder. Christine called her dad and discovered that there were around five thunderstorms going on, any one of which was bound to hit us. So we all piled into Mary's car (at the same time freaking out about the million mosquitos that were in there) and made "the great escape" to where her mom and brother (and cousin) were staying in Ocean City. Oi vey. When we went to go get the tent the next morning, there was about an inch of water on the bottom of it. Good thing we escaped, then.

Worked at FedEx field last night. We were understaffed, so one of the Johnny Rockets employees had to help assemble burgers with me. At one point in the night, he had to go check on one of the other Johnny Rockets in the stadium, and of course, as soon as he left, we were inundated with burger orders. And then when he came back and we were prepared, no one ordered any burgers.

Go figure.

While I always enjoy the experience more than I think I will, I can honestly say that I will probably never work there again. Sorry, Good Counsel music department, but I technically am not a member of you anymore. Sigh.

My first entry typed on my brand new college laptop! A Dell XPS M1530 for those who care. With a built in webcam. Sweet. =)

I stole this from dior_no17 and had fun scrolling through all my Relient K songs (and let me tell you, that's a lot of songs, since I have all of them) searching for answers.

Choose a band/or artist and answer only in song TITLES by that band.
Relient K. My loversssss. :)
Are you male of female? "I Just Want You to Know." I dunno. Sadly, none of their songs are much good for this.
Describe yourself: "Over Thinking. " "Bite My Tongue. Ooh, no, "Those Words Are Not Enough"!
How do some people feel about you? "The Best Thing" (lol). Maybe "Nothing Without You." Hehe. "I Need You." "The One I'm Waiting For." =P Okay, now, for real? "Silly Shoes." "Let It All Out."
How do you feel about yourself? "Who I Am Hates Who I've Been." "Apathetic Way to Be." "My Way or the Highway..." ;).
Describe where you want to be: "The Lining Is Silver." NOT "Deathbed" anytime soon, preferably. "Life After Death and Taxes."
Describe what you want to be: "More Than Useless," that's for sure. "Forward Motion."
Describe how you live: "From End to End." "Where Do I Go From Here."
Describe how you love: "Must Have Done Something Right."
Share a few words of wisdom: (I got a little carried away with this . . .) "The Only Thing Worse Than Beating a Dead Horse Is Getting On One." "The Rest Is Up To You." "Give Until There's Nothing Left."

. . . I could go on all day doing this. . . . (I finally saw them live at Warped Tour on July 16th. Got their signatures. Life goal complete!)

Anyway, I went to a midnight release for Breaking Dawn with my friend Emily last night. We basically sat around the bookstore talking and reading (her: Wuthering Heights; me: Emma). When we got our books, we came back to my house. I fooled around on my [brand new] laptop before starting the book, while Emily started right away. I finally fell asleep around 7 AM since my eyes were crossing and I couldn't read anymore. But Emily claims she was up till about 10 AM (when she finished). Then she slept quite soundly, with the odd interruption here and there, until around 3:30 that afternoon. I, however, was up by eleven that morning, when her alarm went off, and never went back to sleep. Later in the day, I finished the book. I'll give my opinion on it, just to throw it out there.

I went into the book not really sure what I would expect. After rereading the trilogy around the Fourth of July (mostly due to remind myself why I liked them, since I'd become disillusioned with all the bad opinions about them floating around, but also to refresh my memory of the goings-on in the three books), I became extremely excited. But when I opened up to the first chapter of the greatly anticipated Breaking Dawn I was filled with trepidation. I'll admit that I'm somewhat embarrassed that I like the books, since they are not great pieces of literature and they have a bad rap with some of the more qualified readers on this earth. I am not exactly Bella's biggest fan (she irritates the crap out of me quite often, though not as much in Book 3 of Breaking Dawn. Although I tell people I am Team Jacob, I am really Team Nobody and I can't even begin to tell why I like the books, or why I read them in the first place. I don't think they're terrible, but I also don't think they're amazing. I can't quite describe how I feel about the quadrilogy (not a word, I know. Shut up).

So that's why I was filled with trepidation upon opening up to the beginning pages.


Overall, the book was not bad. I enjoyed reading it, for the most part, but it doesn't change my opinion about the entire Twilight series. They're decent books, but nowhere near the ranks of Harry Potter. (Don't get me started on how much better Harry Potter is. It makes me so angry to hear to two compared.) Sorry for the long, highly opinionated rant/review of Breaking Dawn. If you read it, kudos to you. =)