Why am I suddenly emerging from the cyberspace woodwork, you ask?
BECAUSE I JUST PASSED ALL MY CLASSES.
And I really, really didn't think that would happen this semester.
Not even a single C!
WHAT.
I guess it's time to stop complaining about your life when the lowest grade you've ever received in your college career is a B. #shamelesspride
But really, it's been a pretty crazy year. I'm going to complain now, so feel free to stop reading.
The year 2013 has probably been the most disappointing year of my existence. Lots of lesson learned, that's for sure! And since it's about to come to an end, I guess now would be a good time to reflect on those lessons and what caused them. If not for any gain, at least for an historical account.
At the beginning of the year, I opened my dead heart to love again. After existing with complete and total numbness for over a year and a half, and I gave it a shot and dated a boy. It lasted two months to the very day. He broke my heart. Things didn't end well. We aren't even friends now.
I'm actually really good at handling breakups. Like, in the moment, I'm incredibly understanding and empathetic, even when I feel like exploding in anger. I never even cry in front of the guy! I save that for my roommates to deal with when I come home, collapse on my bed in a fit of sobs, and then drown them in my tears as they spoon me, play with my hair, and assure me that the world isn't over.
It's the after-the-breakup period of--FOREVER--that is so awkward for me. I never understand what we "are" after that. I don't how to handle it. (Is there a "right" way? If so, please tell me!) Instead of seeking full closure, I usually just pretend like they never existed. Avoid all confrontation. That's how I deal. Sue me.
Yep, so that happened... Went through the whole "I must not be good enough!" self-loathing cycle until I met another boy. To be honest, I'm a pretty judgmental person deep down inside, and it takes a lot to genuinely impress me. Up until meeting this particular boy, I had never been so impressed by anyone I've dated. Blinded by oh so many things, I fell head over heels for this dude. I even spent five days over the Fourth of July camping with his family. Then a week later when I went back to visit him, I was told something along the lines of, "You're great but I need to meet my eternal companion this year and dating you would keep me from finding her." Cool story, bro. He had a girlfriend not even two weeks later.
Cried over that brobag for a month and a half.
Driving back home for the holidays earlier this evening, I literally laughed out loud as I reflected on things guys have told me. "Not to be rude, but you are awful," "Dating you is so restricting, I can't even make out with other girls," and the above mentioned experience definitely top the list. #ohmylife
I am completely and totally over "love" and anything like unto it. So done. So done with guys who claim to be men but act like hooligans. So done playing the field. So done settling for less than I deserve. So done trying to impress people by wearing makeup and pants. So done with flirting. It literally disgusts me. Every time I see people flirting--mostly at church functions--I want to run around the room waving my arms and screaming, "STOP NOW BEFORE HE RUINS YOU! HE DOESN'T HAVE A CLUE WHAT HE WANTS! YOU DESERVE A REAL MAN!"
I know what I want now more than ever, which is why I am going to wait patiently for ten years until he comes along. You know, unless somebody can find me a pepper-haired, 30-something-year-old with a career who isn't baby hungry, loves to travel and knows what he wants. In that case, I could make an early exception...
Also, earlier this year I ran for senator of my college at my university. I won the primaries, tied with my opponent in the generals, and lost by a SINGLE vote in the special extended election. That sucked. I've never tried for something so hard in my life. I've never put myself out there so much, stepped out of my comfort zone so boldly, or spoken in front of a crowd so many times. Losing that election was a major, serious, full-blown disappointment. In situations like that, you can make yourself sick playing the "What could I have done differently?" game. In hindsight, things worked out for the better and I am much, much happier in a different position. So, thank you, dear opponent, for telling everyone, including my roommates, that I was incompetent. You did me a solid.
Fall semester was out of control. I am involved in so many wonderful, relationship building, friendship forming, horizon broadening, skill enhancing, fun things this year! The problem is exactly that--TOO many. Like, mental breakdown every other night, shower once or twice a week, get 13 hours of sleep in five days TOO many. I don't know how many times I've been given the opportunity to learn the "just say no" lesson, but obviously I haven't grasped it yet. LESSON: When you commit yourself to more than you can handle, you won't have enough time or energy to fully devote yourself to any of those commitments, and thus you'll always be displeased with yourself.
I was sure my grades would be a wreck this semester. I've never missed so many classes, turned in so many assignments late, or cared so little about my school work. On top of all of that, I had heart surgery right around midterms, two weeks before a series of dance performances. Am I completely delusional? The answer is yes. The DAY after being cut open and having a metal object shoved into my chest, I raced back to Cedar City to teach three hours of dance classes. (Thank the heavens above for friends who gladly step in as chauffeurs when you're too drugged to operate a motor vehicle or even your own eyeballs.) And then I went to 6:00 a.m. ballroom dance practice every morning that week until they sent me home and told me to stop coming. Truth be told, I literally thought I would be healed and ready to dive back into my normal life two days after the operation. I called the doctor's office three times asking what could be wrong and why I wasn't healed yet. Shockingly, I didn't give myself enough time to heal, moved around a little too much, ripped open the incision, welcoming a staph infection with open arms, and cried myself to sleep every night for almost a month because it hurt to even lie down. A trip to the ER later--only after finishing a dress rehearsal, of course--I started fighting off the infection, only to realize I was allergic to the antibiotic. JOY.
Ask me how many classes I didn't go to during this time. I lost count.
Yet, somehow, MIRACULOUSLY, I was able to push through it all and perform in both the department dance concert and the ballroom dance company concert the week after. It wasn't by my doing alone, I know that for certain.
And somehow I passed my classes.
And I'm really excited for my future and all the adventure 2014 will bring.
Like graduation.
And moving to a big city.
And a performing career.
And staying single. ;)
