Name:Julia Country:United States State:Michigan Metro:Ann Arbor Birthday:8/28/1989 Gender:Female
Interests:Almost anything...( If you think of something let me know...) Expertise:Caring... sometimes to the point that it hurts.. Occupation:Student Industry:Medical
You can't be disappointed if you never had expectations in the first place. Great philosophers and self-help writers tell us to live without expectations. But it's not that easy to deny our nature as human beings to get our hopes up, especially for big days. The higher they climb, the harder we fall. And that sucks. The fact that you're supposed to be very happy on big days only adds insult to injury because you sit thinking, "It's not supposed to be like this."
I wish this was one of those times (or I was one of those people) when you just bounce back and nothing keeps you down for very long. The more upset I get, the madder I am at myself and at circumstance, which in turn makes me more upset.
As part of going back to school, I decided to delete some old documents and came across this. I can't think why I saved it in the first place, but I'm almost glad I did.
This is from my Freshman year at college, near the end, when everything went down in my family and my life changed forever. It's a conversation I had through the keyboard with someone who, in an effort to show decency/kindness/good-will, shall remain nameless, and a particular catchphrase of his has been edited out of the conversation as it would reveal his identity. It was through the keyboard because I didn't want to wake my then-roommate and her boyfriend, who for once in their lives went to sleep at a godly hour. I'm in pink, he's in blue, commentary in green.
There now we can talk except the keys are kinda loud too……………. Wait, what were you gonna say
I was gonna say “kinda” to the keys being loud. Mine on my keyboard are a lot louder. “shrugs”
Do you think you could sleep through this? The keys?
Okay.
Does it like… idk, scare/intimidate you when I talk about how messed up my family is? Are you like “holy shit, I don’t want to be a part of something so fucked up?
No one wants to be a part of something that is fucked up. Does it scare or intimidate me? No. To be honest, it saddens me. I want you to be happy, and when I hear about all the stuff that’s going on it makes me wanna help out in some way. But, there’s nothing really I can do. So I just listen. Like, I wanna hold you and make it go away, but it doesn’t make it go away. Like, sometimes, when you ask me “What are you thinking?” I’m like “How do I explain how much I just wanna make you smile right now? But I don’t wanna bring it up cause it’ll just make you sad” Make sense?
First of all. You get kisses.
Secondly, I followed up until the last bit. Why do you think bringing it up (trying to type quietly) would make me sad? It’s adorable that you want to make me smile, It’s kinda like, how does he like me so much in so little but it’s adorable nonetheless. Explain please, I really wanna know what you meant.
Like, for me. When something is going shitty in my life, when I talk about it (if I talk about it), I let it out and it’s a release. I wanna be done with it for awhile, just get it out of my system and pretend it’s not there. I’m very good at denial for short periods of time. Then reality is like “HEY! YOU FUCKED UP!” anyways (I speak In tangents, its how my brain works) like, when I hear you talk about stuff, it’s like I wanna make you forget about it for a little while. You’re always carrying it with you, and if that weight is gone for like 30 seconds, it’s a good thing. So, when I’m running it over in my mind, I don’t wanna be like another reminder of stuff you’re constantly dealing with. Comprende?
You say “What are you thinking?” I’m like “How do I explain how much I just wanna make you smile right now? But I don’t wanna bring it up cause it’ll just make you sad” Make sense?
I don’t really ever forget about that stuff. I mean, have I had some of the best moments of my life eventhough this was going on, yes. But, it’s always in the corner of my mind.
And also… "reality is like 'HEY! YOU FUCKED UP!'"…I shouldn’t say this cuz it’s bad luck… but…. I can’t really think of a single moment when I was down about something that I PERSONALLY fucked up. Thank God, I mean, thats a good thing… but, I guess I’m just saying that I see my bro sit there sometimes and think “I fucked up” and I’ve realized… yeah, I don’t REALLY TRULY know what that feels like. I’ve never really messed up that bad.
Yeah. That was meant as like two separate thoughts. Like, I wanna make smile first off, because I like seeing you smile. Secondly, when you tell me about stuff that’s going on, I wanna make you happy. But, I don’t wanna be like “I wanna make you smile right now because of bad stuff going on” That just sounds weird in my head to say after someone is like “What are you thinking”. But…now that I’ve typed it, it doesn’t seem so weird. Maybe I’m just weird. IDK. Actually, yes , I do. I am weird. But weird in like an awesomely awesome way. Comprende?
Si!
I thought that would help. =] lets see if I can do that again=] yaaaaaaaaaaay!
{ I have no idea what I did, or what I was trying to help. }
Hokay! So. (have you seen that skit?)
Hokay so! Heres ze earthhhhhhhh. It’s round! Dang, that is a sweet earth you might say… WRONG!
No?
OH DANG! YOU GOTTA SEE THAT SHIT!
I decided to throw in shit because I thought it would be funnier but I’m not really in a swear like a sailor mood.
Slash. I really truly promise you I don’t reallllllllllllly like using bad words
Or saying something is gay to mean stupid
Or a lot of the {I almost said shit again here} dang I did it again! Or a lot of the STUFFI’ve picked up over the years.
I kinda miss my purity. But you knew that.
What do you feel like you fucked up? Like the whole, “don’t have friends in elementary/middle, get friends in hig h, spend more time goofing off than breaking a sweat for class, not getting into Harvard” thing?
Si o no?
I did. Not really anymore. It’s done with. Like, more in day to day stuff. I haven’t fucked up anything huge recently. Just more like {I handed him a Livesaver or Icebreaker or something} are you saying my breath smells???? What flavor is this? NM, figured it out. Watermelon is delicious.
Apple, dummy. Tell me more.
OK. Nothing huge recently. I don’t know, I was never really a kid who got into serious trouble (minus the MIP, man was that STUPID), but I was always kinda on the edge of trouble. Does that make sense? Mischievous. So, I’m in some ways used to always being on the edge of getting into serious trouble. Like, with grades, or not doing stuff I’m supposed to, or whatever.
I’ve never seriously been in serious trouble.
I mean
I bail a whole load of people out of a whole loaaaaaad of things. But my parents are like, “see, we’ve got the kid who helps out the ones who mess up. She doesn’t mess up, and she knows how to do what needs to be done to not mess up” at least my dad was when he was still more or less involved. Actually, he thinks that now too. My dad’s super effing proud of me and that won’t change no matter how shitty my opinion of him is. But ummm, my moms alllllllllways been insane
She was just a bad kid herself, so she always thinks im gonna go try drugs or get pregnant or something. I think deep down she thinks I’m good /able enough to be friggin ridiculously inside the lines, but she still is insane…………..
All mothers are insane. I’ve accepted that as fact. You won’t be though. SUPEEEEER MOM!!!! (music plays in the background as Julia runs into the bedroom wearing a cape) Like my mom one day for instance. My dad asked me something. I think it had to do with money. I don’t remember. Anyways, I told him what I did and he was like “That was smart”. He wasn’t sarcastic or anything. My mom is like “Don’t do that Joe* {*name changed}! You don’t have to have that tone of judgment!!!” she said a bunch more stuff that I can’t remember that amounted to the same thing. At this point, my dad and I are looking at her like she’s crazy, cause she is. I say to her “How in the world is what dad said bad?” she looks at me and says “what did he say again?” “That was smart” she started laughing. I think my mom kinda knows she’s crazy, but is just sorta like “too damn bad people. you gotta deal with it. I’m 47* {*age changed}, and sure as hell not changing.” I think. I just wish she wouldn’t talk to the tv when I’m trying to watch it.
I’ll keep that in mind when you’re watching tv.
I don’t just intend on being super mom and super doctor. I’ma be super wife in between. I’m gonna be the wife that makes like a 34q232q43421 course dinner for a husband who is coming home from work and have him walk in and find me making dinner wearing just an apron. I’m gonna be crazy like that, but good crazy. Like, I donno, I can’t picture a marriage like my parents. I know people whose parents cuddle up and watch tv every night… that’s what I wanna do when I’m old. But I wannna play when I’m young. Like pre-kids.
(Wait I just realized this might get awkward or you’re gonna think it’s cool… one of two ways this could go) sorry if that was like “uhhhh WTF??”
It was more like “uhhhh FUCKING AWESOME.” And hot. Yup. I kinda stopped paying attention after you were like cooking basically naked.
Oh and heels. Fo sho.
Oh sweet jesus!
What?
Oh sweet jesus in a good way. Like, OH DAMN!!!
I see. I donno, I got all these things I wanna do.
Likkkkkkkke. I donno, I think I’ll stop hinting at the fact that I’m secretly nvm, I wont say that either.
I’m just gonna be a good wife
I like laundry for crying out loud.
I like decorating houses, I like running a house, making it a HOME not a HOUSE, there's a difference. I like being the reason for someones comfort, I wanna clean and like, make beds and set the table and have my family come home and be like, “everything is how it should be, everything smells good, I’m comforted, I like being at home, I can’t wait to tell mywife/ mom about my day” I want that soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo badly, it kinda makes me cry just thinking about it.
Well, me. I don't know about you. (But I suspect for many of us, college is ending, summer is coming and that equals change.)
I am....
a) Halfway Done With College
As you know, Michigan was the only school I applied to. Michigan is a great school, consistently well ranked, one of the best public schools in the nation, world-renown.... I mean, it's one of the few schools Victoria's Secret has immortalized in their Pink Collection... heck, there's a reason our chant is "It's great to be a Michigan Wolverine!".
I have to think long and hard every time I ask myself, and I honestly don't know if I hate it here.
b) Moving Back Into My Parents' House
From my experience moving back after a year at college last year, and with the tension that has been painfully hanging in the air... I am not excited, and ready for the times that I want to run away.
c) Losing My First Car...
......to my brother. Who has totaled 2 cars. My baby, my first car, my memories, my best of times, my worst of times, the car I relied on to get me the hell away from somewhere (usually home), the car who took my crap when I was frustrated, the car in which I had the times that have turned into the ONLY absolutely insane stories someone as straight-laced as me has to tell. (In case you missed it, scroll down a few entries.) All of that, all those precious things that only happen once and you don't get back.... in reckless hands. If Dennis Haysbert from those Allstate commercials asked me if I was in good hands, I'd laugh. Or cry.
d) Getting a New Car....
....well, new to me. Formerly my dad's BMW 530xi.
What can I say? It's shiny. It's pretty. It has a new car smell. The leather feels sexy. Yes, it FEELS sexy. It's super fast. It has all the things you could want. The seats and steering wheel warm up. I mean, shoot, it's a niiiiice car. But, after so long, my Jetta is so much more..... me. I don't know. Maybe with time people (and I myself) will start to see me as a person who drives a BMW. And, though a very dear ex-boyfriend of mine did dent my Jetta (Thanks Jack! =]), at least it had a whole windshield. Nothing bothers me more on cars than cracked windshields. My beemer happens to have one. But hey, that can get fixed. Don't let that ruin the new car smell. And Vitaliy tells me I can now bump to the Russian song, "Чёрный бумер", since my beemer is, in fact, black.
e) My Boyfriend is Moving Back Home
This is possibly most important. Jory only lives an hour away, but it's weird to think that I saw him (mostly, except when stress ate us alive) every day, he lived down the street, we walked all of 5 minutes to see each other, and now I need a highway just to get to him. It could be alright, but it'll be different, and we're a new relationship (three months is new, though we met longer ago than that, and it feels like we've known each other our whole lives)....
f) Some People are Having Babies and Some People are Graduating...
...both of those things are insane. And though I will be there to witness them, they're not happening directly to me... so I guess I can't include that in this entry. (I JUST DID.)
Writing has become too exhausting... (no sleep because of finals week) and I think I've run out of things to say anyway.
I love you. All of you. With all my heart. And I always will.
Enter away messagesome things in life you're just not meant to understand. some things you shouldn't have gone looking for, because now you can't stop thinking about them. some things that you want the most seem like they always find ways of getting away. some things are hard, and some things are worth it. some things are mistakes. some things you didn't plan on but wouldn't trade for the world. some things feel natural. some things won't go away, some things you wish would. some things seem like you can't remember how you lived without them.
you learn from all things. all things happen for a reason.
To the Kid in the Room Directly Above Me: Your basses do not amuse me. Yes, they are very loud. The hall is quite impressed, very entertaining. The paint on my ceiling appreciates the release from bondage, it was deathly afraid of heights. The constant vibrations are however deteriorating the gray matter in my brain. Your choice of songs is as unwelcome and appaling as it is tasteless. It is entirely too late at night for you to be so completely inconsiderate of the 400 other people who did not choose to live with you.
I've had a really tough few weeks.
Last night, I had a series of nightmares Mr. Hitchcock would admire. I finally fell dead asleep close to morning. My alarm woke me up. As I tried to calm myself, I wrapped myself in the towel I had on when I locked myself out of my room last night. In the shower, I started to feel weak and nauseous. In that state, I tried on my entire closet. Getting dressed will forever be the hardest part of my day. I just wish I was pretty. It would be great to be one of those people who can wear whatever and still be adorable. Today was a particularly bad day in that department. My head was spinning, my heart was racing, I don't know why. I felt hideous, I was upset with myself for wasting so much time on something so stupid, I felt like a monster was breathing down my neck. I collapsed half naked on the pile of clothes that had accumulated on my floor, pulled on the cord and yanked the receiver off the wall. It's fall was cushioned by my camp hoodie.With tears in my eyes, I dialed those familiar seven numbers. Barely audibly, through hysterics, I told my mom about my morning. I told her I had eight minutes to get to class.
I am deliberately not answering to the knocking on my door.
When my mom arrived, I had thrown my hair into a ponytail, slipped into the horrendous fake Ugg boots I only wear when I need to be warm and comfortable, wrapped a scarf around my neck and put my (some would argue horrendous, to which I say ridiculously warm) new coat on. She drove me to class. I left my cell phone in her car. Going from feeling anxious to feeling numb all day, one blunder after another, I somehow made it through.
I got my phone back. I hear it chiming in text messages. I'll get to them eventually.
I have a fever.
It's raining on my window.... steady drops of cold rain.... pitter patter, pitter patter. For some reason, that's the only thing keeping me sane.
