Seven Years

I had entirely forgotten that this blog ever existed. Completely forgotten about some of what went on in my UCD days. I graduated in the Summer of 2015. M had moved out of our apartment earlier that spring and a new M2 moved in. He was a complete foil to M1. I don't think I had ever described her before.

M1 was short, Dominican, with black coils for curls, and an impressive poker face. A previous Sargent in the Army Reserves, she spoke briskly, did not mince words, was orderly, always clean and tidy, and smelled lovely wherever she went. She had an icy demeanor with a tendency to thaw around me. She had very pretty dimples when she smiled, but those were reserved for special occasions. In our last days of living together she became rather insufferable. I was hurt because our rent was raised and the only reason I had agreed to continue living there was because she had asked me to. She practically begged, reasoned that I knew how difficult it was for her to get out of her shell enough to feel comfortable around anyone and she was very happy living with me and we both only had 3 more quarters to go in our schooling so wouldn't it be easier than having to get reacquainted to a new living situation. I agreed. I liked our home too. It was quiet. She was a clean and respectful house mate. We got along. We both did chores. Our living room was always immaculate. We always had food enough to share and would often cook for each other. It was like living with family. At least for me. When M1's father died she became reclusive, which is understandable. However that was when she had begged me to sign our leasing agreement. so I acquiesced. A couple months later I noticed little by little her things were disappearing. Books, a table lamp, bookshelves, pillows all disappeared into what I then assumed was her room. Until one day she came to me and said she was moving out. I could see how empty her room looked down the hall. I couldn't afford to live in the space by myself. I didn't fight her, just told her she needed to find someone to sublease before she left.

I'm not sure still if she wanted me to fight her on the matter or not but it didn't matter. I had midterms to worry about and I was upset. I was upset for her and at her. Several very uncomfortable random people walking through our apartment later she found M2. Nice enough guy. That was that. I came home one day to find M1 gone without so much as a good bye. she had left holes on the walls from tearing her TV down (which her boyfriend had installed promising to fill the wholes and whatnot when we first moved in in 2013...) and getting her furniture out of the house. She had left me a Victoria's Secret bag that I often commented on liking, and that was all.

We didn't talk again for a month when she asked me to go to Easter Mass with her. Then we patched things up and she took me out the following month for my birthday but enough of that.

M2 was completely the opposite of M1. M2 was from Wisconson, a red-headed Irish boy with the most spectacularly TV Irish name possible (meaning if his name was written by american screenwriters you get me?) and tons of tattoos, piercings, and shoulder-length frizzy undercut hairstyle. He was soft spoken and friendly. Always wore boots and chains and plaid and looked like he had only ever stepped foot in thrift stores that specifically sold HotTopic merchandise. He worked in the Theater department at UCD, building sets for the local productions. He couldn't cook, seamed incapable of cleaning, and when asked would half-assedly take the trash out, often making more of a mess in the process. I got so sick of my dishes disappearing into his room and suddenly popping up in the dishwasher with gunk stuck to them that I started just doing his dishes every day. I hated it, but it was like living at home and was only a going to last till August so I bit my tongue.I cooked. I cleaned. One day I had to clean his bathroom because we were having a "surprise" inspection and all I can say is oh my god. Disgusting. The man didn't even have hand soap or towels near his sink. I was utterly repulsed.

Like I said before though I'm from a small town, I can be polite and get along with just about everyone and aside from a couple of dishes disputes and one day when he ate an entire lasagna (that I had spent the previous day slaving over even putting portions into smaller tins for freezing for later) we got along fine. I would vacuum up the splinters he would shed everyday after coming in from work. I'd wipe down his fingerprints from the walls and cabinets, and when he eventually got off the couch after not showering again for the 3rd or 4th day I would spray down the couch with vodka and Febreeze, fluff the pillows and replace the throw blanket, while that one got a wash.

I had so many glade plug-ins I'm shocked our apartment never burned down. Still, as long as his bedroom door was closed, and he wasn't home, one would never notice that he lived there.

On days when he finally decided to do his laundry, presumably when coworkers would complain of his rather pungent self, he would don a kilt and an extremely over sized hockey jersey and there was no saving my poor apartment or my poor nose of the rank and lingering smell of sweaty balls. My eyes would literally water. I would open every room in our apartment in an attempt to dissipate the offending smell as quickly as possible and all I could do was cringe when a neighbor would walk by and exclaim over it.

Luckily, he had a break from work from June-July, and went to visit his then girlfriend in Washington, which meant I had the apartment to do with as I pleased for a good while and all I can say is that I now miss living alone. I miss the freedom of being able to shower at 3AM after waking up from a bad dream only to then get back in bed feeling clean and safe. I miss falling asleep after work at 6PM only to rise at 10PM, do homework, cook, clean, shower and lay out my things for the next day only to fall asleep at  4AM for another 2 and a half hours and then rising for the day with no questions asked. No one to complain of my living schedule. No one else's dishes to do. No one else to clean up after. It was wonderful. If I got lonely I could invite over anyone I liked for as long as I liked with no need to worry about offending the house mate. That was my favourite.

When his girlfriend eventually dumped him for being a slob, I kid you not, he told me so but in different language. basically I think he said, "she didn't want to care for me anymore, said it was too much." but we all know that means, you're a slob, I'm sick of cleaning after you, go home. But I said nothing but a noncommittal apology. Literally at the time I had just stopped by the apartment after class intent on grabbing a bathing suit and heading to my friend's pool, only to find my apartment door open a crack. I remember being horrified, until I pushed it open and spotted M2 lounging on the couch looking worse than usual with wine bottles littering the floor and dripping onto the coffee table and presumably the carpet. It was quite the display and despite the fact that he was utterly gutted, I took no pity on the guy who was stinking up my perfectly tidy apartment. I grabbed my suit, told him to shower and get a nap in and to clean up all the bottles and maybe I'd grab us dinner later.

I don't remember what happened much after that but you get the gist.

I finished up my classes in September and M2 looked for housing elsewhere. I remained friends with M1 and M2 on facebook for a long while but deleted my account in the end of 2016. I have no idea how either are doing now. Sometimes I feel guilty, but I'm sure they're fine.

It's funny, I guess that's the lesson of the day here. The world keeps turning. Life keeps happening.
One of these days I'll share some truly ridiculous dates that I had during my time in UCD but this is enough for now. I'd also like to recount more of my times spent with the lifelong friends I made there and bring more positive memories to the front.

I can't say I'm the same effervescent girl I was when I wrote these past passages. But I do miss her. The way the world would glow and the possibilities were endless. But these retellings will be told from a twenty-something perspective now. I do intend to write though. It feels so good to get the thoughts out. to go back. Review what I've lived through, chart a new path to where I am going.

Wish me luck!

Ink_Stained

Oops, It's been a while...

End of Fall Quarter/ End of February 2014 in a Nutshell...

I survived Fall Quarter. My roommate and I became friends. We spent Christmas separately. Her father died on Christmas day. We dealt and are still dealing with it. Roomie is pledging a secret society that I am not supposed to know about, but I would have to be an idiot to not know (seriously.) I am almost finished with Winter Quarter, usual bad things have ensued around me. I'm getting much better and worse at being alone. I made a great friend but she is graduating after Spring Quarter. I got a boatload of plant babies.

Ok, Now if you want to hear the long version here we go. 

I honestly don't remember too much of the craziness after the blackout except that I somehow managed to get a very mild stalker. He talked to me one day at the MU and managed to find me on Facebook just from my old High School sweater I was sporting that day and from remembering my face; mildly impressive, unequivocally creeptastic. He would send me video links on facebook of a band I mentioned in passing and asked to meet up a couple of times. I admired his persistence and figured hey maybe he was lonely like me. Then I started to get weird messages. I'd be sitting in the library or walking through the bookstore and my phone would ping, (btw I got a Samsung Galaxy S4 after my iphone 4 fried. My parents were sweet enough to spoil me and I totally love it!) and I'd have a facebook message saying, you look nice in that pink scarf, or I saw you today, what were you reading? I would resist the urge to look around and act as though I was responding to a text message and would respond with stuff like, "oh sorry, I didn't see this till later, why didn't you come and say hi?" Because isn't that what normal people do when they see a friend or new acquaintance? Go and say hi?

That was a slight alarm bell, because even if the guy was harmless, I felt a vague sort of threat from the messages, "I see you, but you don't see me." (Have I mentioned how paranoid I am? Yes? Ok, just a reminder.) Needless to say I kindof got out of habit from studying anywhere that isn't home now. I finally replied one day after he said, "we should hang out." I replied with a simple, "I'm free to meet downtown from 2-6 today." He hasn't responded since and that was in November. Hopefully my forwardness burst his little fantasy bubble world and he is over me. Either way I blocked him on facebook and still spend most of my free time at home. I can't help but feel like I limited my social circle like this though so starting next quarter I'm going to be brave and start staying at school again. There are better resources there anyways. 

Anyway onto the roomie. Somehow in all the hubub she and I became friends. She has learned to live with my overly excitable nature and avoidance of angular furniture ( I don't like anything square or rectangular, corners make me antsy and give me bruises guys!) I have learned that she is relatively deaf, but doesn't like it too quiet, which is perfect because I never shut up. My endless psychobabble and constant singing creates the perfect background noise for her study time. My roommate is not as quiet as I first thought, she is bold and brash but only once you get to know her and can be quite considerate on occasion. She always has to one up me on the gift department though dammit. We went to an army ball, ( did I mention my Roomie is a Seargent in the Army reserves?) where I discovered that she has night blindness and I had to drive though San Francisco, in the dark, in a ball gown, with a pair of broken glasses (I managed to snap the leg of the frame by shoving them gracefully in my clutch, I was in contacts so I didn't notice until the end of the night when I took off my contacts and put on my glasses to drive. Yay.) Nothing screams adventure like lurching up a hill, with your neck twisted in a crazy manner, in an insane attempt to keep your spectacles on your face. Also Roomie, let's call her M shall we? M has a brand new 2013 Honda something or other with all the bells and whistles and man is it a bitch to drive. Anytime I got close to another car the anti crash thing would beep and freak M out, or when I would go to turn the (over the lane divider thing) would go freaking berserk. It was a total pain in the ass. Plus her GPS wasn't working so I just had to take a leap of faith and hope to find my own way out. Obviously I did, so we are alive and well. I ended up having to use a wax strip to hold my glasses back together when we got to our hotel, neither of us had tape. But that is beside the point. This was the first time we actually did something together, starting our friendship. Then many study nights, New Girl episodes, Wine-glasses, rum-and cokes, boba-teas and a couple of questionable flavoured dinners later the friendship was pretty solid. By the way I sooooooo don't drink, so usually She would open the wine, give me half a glass and then polish off the rest with gusto. By rum and cokes I meant that she drank the rum and I the coke, haha sometimes we would mix the two and might I recommend pairing Coconut Rum with Cherry Coke? It's not iffy in the slightest, but If you're a lightweight like me go with, "half a finger," of rum as M says. I don't speak drink, google it if you're confused. 

Anyway, M was totally into the guy in her Arabic class, let's call him Bueller. Bueller is tall and handsome, soft-spoken and well-dressed, with a bizarre Hawaiian print back-pack and an attachment to highlighter-inspired sneakers. Got an image in your head? Me neither, haha, but that is how she describes him no matter how many times I question her, I get no more details except for when he suddenly shaves his beard off that she likes so much. I say, "was," only because recent events have put romance off of her mind, but we did enjoy making terrible romantic scenarios when he was her crush charming for a time. 

We had great fun getting the apartment dolled up for Christmas. I brought two miniature Christmas trees from home, one was silver and holographic, the other plain and pine-ish with white lights embedded in its branches. We then went to Micheal's and dollar only stores and got a ton of tiny Christmas ornaments and made a wreath for our door and put up lights on our windows and Window clings up of Santa and ornaments, stockings and poinsettias and all in all it was beautiful and festive. We went and met her family, who surprisingly enough adored me, quirks and all, and insisted that I come back to visit often. We went our separate ways for Christmas, I went home and she stayed at the apartment until Christmas Eve when she went home for family time. On Christmas day I got a horrifying text message at noon. 

"My dad just had a massive heart attack,  he is at the hospital right now, in critical condition. Please pray for him."

I told my family and after a couple of hours she texted me again telling me that her father was stable and they were all feeling much better. It was only the eye of the storm. At 5pm I got a single message consisting of 3 words:

"Dad passed away."

I never felt my heart go so still before. It was physically painful. I called her immediately and she sounded like she was in schock. she sounded so mechanical and broken I had to hang up before I started crying. I gave the only consolation I could. I told her that I was here for her and that if she needed me I would come back to the apartment. We both decided to stay with our families. I came back on Friday and she returned the Sunday  before school. We kept the Christmas stuff up for a while. They haven't had a funeral yet but I did attend the Celebration of Life ceremony held for him. It was hard, and I still feel guilty about it but I couldn't help but wonder what was going to happen to me. Granted M was hurting and is my friend but I have never had to deal with a situation like this before and I am not a somber person by nature. I am loud, creative, overbearing at times and I didn't know how to act. I didn't want to be insensitive and act normally, but I also didn't want to pity her and give her that awful I'm sorry look all the time. Much to my surprise she acted as if nothing had happened. It wasn't until later that I would hear her crying in her room. I still haven't told her that I can sometimes hear her at night. We haven't had a formal talk about it but I try to make her feel at home whenever I can. I made her chicken soup when she got sick and she received sympathy flowers in a pretty blue vase. When I was getting to know her she once told me that she hates flowers because they die. The day I made her chicken soup I bought a bunch of daisies and carnations, because I noticed that her flowers were dying and quietly replaced them. M is not a touchy feely person; I am. I like hugs and hand holding, hair braiding, gentle massaging, just touch in general. I am physically affectionate and M is not; I have gotten used to reserving my hugs for my mother( and on those weekends when I see her she gets smothered believe me.) Therefore I was surprised when, after doing dishes and sitting down on the couch to read my textbook, M sat beside me and hugged me. We have kept flowers in the vase ever since; sometimes I buy them, sometimes she does. 

By the way have I ever mentioned Bert? Bert is my plant baby. He's a succulent. Bert is my first plant baby. I was lonely and missed my pets so my Godfather gifted me with this little guy. As a busy student he's perfect because I can talk to him and watch him grow and only need to water him once a month or so. 

Bert

This is Bertholomou Cactali Gertenschtein.
I made up the hoity toity name while
texting a friend and it stuck with me.

I got Bert about October-Novemberish. Then the other day (in January) M and I went to Home-Depot for something she needed and I saw a bunch of little succulents on sale! They were being over-watered and didn't look too good so I rescued a few of them. I now have four little succulent garden bowls and two orchids.

Scylla

So named after the
 hydra in Homer's, "The Odyssey."

Charybdis

 Named after the whirlpool
 monster from Homer's, "The Odyssey."

Cristae

As in the lining in
Mitochondria where ATP is made.

Henry

My first Orchid!

I haven't named my other Orchid yet! My parent's bought her for me and goodness is she huge! Henry is about 1ft and a half tall and she is easily 3-4 feet. She has big broad leaves almost as long as my arm, (Henry's are as big as my hand) and pale yellow flowers. I'm debating between naming her Ophelia after Shakespeare's Hamlet or Hypatia after the Roman Philosopher and Mathematician.

Ok, we're getting a little closer to present day now. About a week or so after coming back to the apartment, I asked M if we could go to see "The Hobbit: Desolation of Smaug." It had been in theaters for a while and I had been dying to see it and i had roped her into seeing Frozen with me and she enjoyed that so she figured indulging me again couldn't be so bad. The movie was good, Smaug was fantastic and we had a good time overall. We were planning to go to a dollar store and buy Valentine's Day decorations after the movie before heading home to chow down on something or other and watch New Girl. It was a Friday so we decided we needed a good old fashioned Friday night without school worries. At the traffic-light just before our apartment complex my classic bad luck struck. The light barely turned green, the car in front of us hadn't moved yet and a girl who hadn't been paying attention, plowed into the car behind us who in turn, collided with M's car. A sickening crunch and whiplash ensued. M was not at all prepared to handle something like this and from her expression I expected her to either curse violently or burst into tears. Luckily a CHP officer saw the whole thing so he pulled over to write up a report, and M was able to somehow hide all of her emotions and cooperate with little to no difficulty. On the way home I had never heard such colorful language. If curses could be seen in color, it would have felt like a rainbow-skittles-rave inside that car. Needless to say we went home, called our respective parents, I got into my onsie ( My dad bought me a sock monkey onsie for Christmas. It was a gag gift but good lord when your apartment is freezing and you can't afford to keep the heater above 60, a onsie is absolute heaven,) started up New Girl and M popped open a bottle of wine. I had a whole glass that night.

Alot has happened since then. But it's all kindof a blur (my long-term memory is better than my short-term.) I spent Valentine's Day all alone for the first time in 21 years and am not ashamed to admit that I cried. I usually spend the day with family and friends, but I had midterms the week after V-day and a Pre-med student conference on the 15th and couldn't go home. All of my friends however did, M included. Saddest Day in a long time. My best friend told me I should have called her but I didn't want to bring anybody down, her included. (She lives in Texas so we couldn't hang out or anything. But I spent the night watching Clueless, Agora, Timer, leprechaun 2, Brother Bear, and Smithsonean Channel: Titanoboa. A couple of those films left me in tears, and before you ask, yes it was well into the 15th before I passed out for an hour before waking up and going to the conference where I heard alot about Osteopathic Medicine. My friend S and I had a great time trying out different techniques for alleviating neck tension and afterward she and I decided to hang out and went to where her husband works where they bought me pizza and then she introduced me to this nifty place where I bought S and I freshly baked cookie-ice-cream sandwiches before she dropped my off back at my apartment, where I was once again alone, but didn't feel like it anymore.  

Now we're rounding off to last week. Midterms, migranes, and a day where I came home from class at 7 and slept until my 7am class the next day and really nothing much else happened. Now I'm back in my apartment late on a Saturday night (M had to do something secretive with her sorority that I supposedly don't know about) alone, recounting the end and beginning of 2013 and 2014 respectively. I feel like this is very therapeutic writing everything down. It's not exactly everything but I'm not ready to release some of the more personal disasters just yet. Oh well, chronically linear stories are boring anyway. Anyway's Ciao for now, and hopefully I will have more free time like this to log in and share my memories with whomever is out there reading this. And if you aren't me and you are reading this I wish you nothing but the best. If it is me reading this: get off the damn internet! Quit being narcissistic or overly-analytical. Who cares if there are spelling or grammar errors, no one is going to really care anyway (at least I hope not.) Besides, you have homework and you know it, so stop procrastinating. 

I guess the lesson of the day is if you feel lonely, it means you aren't really alone anyway; it's temporary, you'll be ok. 

Ink_Stained

Blackout

Waking up in a pitch-black apartment with no way to combat it is not a good way to start the day, or the week for that matter.

People always say bad things and bad luck comes in threes. Was I born in room 3? Seriously though, what the hell? First thing tuesday morning my roommate and I had to deal with power failure. Granted there are worse things in the world but bad is a relative term depending on the experiences of the person. 

All the same, showering in the dark, and having to be in Bio-Lab at 7:30 in the morning with dripping wet hair, still freezing from waiting for the bus in 42 degree weather, just so you can do mendalian genetics while sorting through hundreds of dead fruit flys is my definition of a crappy morning. Not having breakfast, and the fact that I had already done the lab before at my junior college only pissed me off further. Then we recieved our midterms back and whelp, lets just say that apparantly 4-6 hours of studying isn't going to cut it. Joy. 

The rest of yesterday was relatively uneventful. I paid bills (aka, made sure I would still have a roof over my head next month, and electricity once the damn power lines are fixed,) I finished some homework, studied (curled up into a fetal position and bawled over my midterm, and took notes based off of my failure,) exercised and did some housework (danced halfheartedly while doing dishes, and generally cleaning the kitchen,) relaxed a bit before bed, (mercilessly filed, buffed, and polished my nails until they were shiny enough to see my reflection, and I watched Hart of Dixie as I did it, that show always manages to completely shut off my brain.) Then, I promptly passed the heck out for the first time in a while. I was lulled into a false sense of security and thought Wednesday would be better.

Well it's Wednesday! And today started out just fine. I was running late as usual from ignoring my alarm clock on my phone the first 10 times I had pressed snooze, but I still managed to make my bus. Granted it was probably because the bus driver took pity on me as I hailed her, frantically,waving my arms and running like a chicken with my head cut off, but she still stopped and waited for me. Then Calculus was relatively easy this morning. Of our 50 minute lecture, we spent 10 having an actual lecture and 40 going over students questions regarding material on the Midterm we have on Friday. Not too shabby.

Then I went to the MU bought a bagel (they make them fresh here!) And a sweet tea and parked myself at a booth to go over biolab homework and eat my yummy breakfast. Everything was going fine, until I tried to check the time. My phone was curiously black, no matter how often I pressed the home button (yes I have an iphone 4, its worth more trouble than anything else.) The screen didn't so much as flicker. I tried to "reset" it by holding down the home and screen buttons at the same time but to no avail. I think the damn thing is dead. Granted I mauy be jumping to conclusions becausevthis only just happened, but my phone has been acting buggy lately and I figured it was only a matter of time, but I never expected it to quit on me so soon! I have no other means of telophonic communication, and my phone was my lifeline. In its magical little metal body it held the voices of my family, my friends and of course my insurance agent and the people I bug at the bank when I get confused with electronic banking. Now I feel all alone, truly alone without even a flare gun to give out my location. 

Sad right? 

And I readily admit, I am not looking forward to bad thing #3 whatever it may be. 

Bye for now. 

Ink_stained 

Knock Knock; no one's there.

Being locked out is horrifying!

So much of a busy student's life is spent in the bedroom. FYI it is not a glamorous lifestyle; I don't know who the hell thought to make so many romantic comedies and such spent in college atmosphere's because all of us serious students are wayyyyyy to damn busy to go through that crap. Honestly, my life at the moment consists of studying, doing homework, going to class, going to labs, going to discussion, going to study group, and occasionally coming back home to eat and sleep. Although I haven't been sleeping much lately what with midterms and whatnot, but hey now that that's over I plan to get a lovely snooze after my classes tomorrow. And there is no way anyone can tell me otherwise.

Anyway, sorry it's late and I'm getting off topic. Back to the real reason for the blog today. When you share an apartment there are just certain things you always do. All homework items: laptop, books, high-lighters, post-its etc, are to be left in one's room when one is not home. It's just common courtesy. No one wants the hassle or the after-wrath of moving around a housemates papers to have access to the dining table, or to accidentally spill something on a research paper or whatever. So like a good roommate I shoved all of my things in my room before heading to my midterm today.

Ordinarily this would be an insignificant occurrence, one blip of happening in my mundane-everyday-average life except for one little detail I didn't happen to notice until I got back this evening. I had locked the door! 

Why did I do this? I haven't the faintest idea. I came home happy with the knowledge of acing my Physics midterm, and nerve-wracked at the idea of how I did on my Biology midterm but glad nonetheless that midterms, for the time anyway, are over. I decided that I would come home, promptly shower, eat something and finish up some Calc homework that was due by midnight. All of those plans came to a halt when I jiggled the handle of my bedroom door. Sure that someone was playing a prank I knocked, hollered, begged, and  all but cried, to no avail. My roommate wasn't home and there was nowhere to turn, except maybe to the pantry. I tried wooden skewers, nails, screws, a coat hanger. Nothing worked. In my panic I called my dad and asked what to do. He said to ask my neighbors.

Maybe it's just one too many lifetime movies but I am a very paranoid person. Very paranoid. People genuinely frighten me and I'm always worried that if I let my guard down I will eventually become someone's human lampshade. Okay maybe I've watched American Horror Story, and Silence of the Lambs, one time too many too but whatever. Better safe than glowing right?

Well eventually I wrestled up the courage to cross the 12 feet separating my door from my neighbors and after fervently blessing myself several times and plenty of foot shuffling, I rang the bell. My neighbors have to be in their 70's at least. That still didn't make me feel any better as they invited me inside. The old lady has a cane and I bet she can use it too. (Oh come-on, Hansel and Gretal anyone?) Her husband was kind enough to lend me some tools to try and unlock the door but nothing worked.

It just so happens that one of the maintenance men that works at my apartment complex lives a few apartments away from me. I know because I see him every dang day. He also gives me the creeps just a little bit, but that's probably just my natural aversion to people in general. He seems nice enough, when he isn't glaring. Unfortunately, I had homework due and I panicked again and I was desperate enough to go over and ask for his help. I've never felt so mortified! Ever! He didn't stop glaring at me the entire time, even though I apologized profusely for bothering him after hours.

The whole ordeal only took about 10-15mins but I'm pretty sure that in that time I grew a few grey hairs and shaved off a couple years from my lifespan. I was also vaguely terrified at the guy being alone in my apartment with me so I hid in the kitchen, (conveniently close to the knives) just in case. When I called back my dad and told him all was well he got angry at me for not watching the maintenance guy do what he was doing so I could replicate it when I got locked out again.

Its sad how well he knows me. I can't even be agitated at the accusation of my incompetence because I clearly displayed it once and will undoubtedly do it again. How depressing.

Oh well, Calc homework is finished. Midterms are over. Room is unlocked and life is good again, for the time being. I plan to celebrate my Physics score with a marathon of The Walking Dead and AHS: Coven tomorrow and a visit from, or to, the family this weekend.

Lesson of the day? Don't rush. Stupid things happen when we aren't thinking straight. I still don't remember locking my door. But I know I probably did it out of habit from my old house or something.
In the words of one of my most favourite bouncy stuffed Tigers: TTFN; ta ta for now!

Ink_Stained

Not exactly "pan" pizza.

Whoopsies, unless you have a sweet-tooth I guess...

Most college students cannot afford takeout everyday. I know, I'm one of them. As a transfer student this is my first time actually away from home, but I do not live in a dorm, this means I am lucky enough to have my own fully functional and occasionally (with frequent trips to the local grocery store and farmer's market,) fully stocked. Now, I've had some experience in the kitchen, but mostly I just know how to make rice, beans, and soups of all sorts. Being away from home has me missing my roots so the other day I experimented making "albondigas," (meatball soup) a traditional Mexican soup, and it turned out splendidly! I had enough for the week. Which is awesome when you come home after class and you're starving and really just want to eat something quick and take a nap before you have to head back to class in a couple hours.

Last weekend I attempted to make enchiladas. And can I just say Yum! They weren't as great without my Tia's homemade enchilada sauce, but did well in a pinch. But Geez louise what a mess! Stove top enchiladas are not for the faint of heart or those who do not like to clean but would rather not be slobs either.

Not all of my cooking adventures have been so great though. Last Thursday I decided to make brown rice, just a cupful and holy guacamole! That stupid grain took nearly three hours! I usually make white rice which takes about 20 minutes at most but since it's Breast Cancer Awareness month certain items at the store give proceeds to the Breast cancer association and brown rice was one of them. Sure it's great being able to help out and I actually prefer brown rice to white rice but like I said it almost took 3 fricken hours! And about eight 16oz cups of water! Good thing I have Netflix... ahem, I mean books to study.

And the other day( a couple of weeks ago) I attempted a tuna casserole. My roommate barely forgave me. Nuff said.

Today however I ate up the last of my albondigas for lunch and I finished the chicken and enchiladas yesterday and I happened to have the ingredients for a pizza so I decided to make one.
By ingredients I mean that I had pepperoni, mozzarella, canned "tomato sauce" (basically a tomato puree,) italian spices, roasted red pepper and garlic powder and some other salad seasonings that smelled about right and of course one of those pre-made refrigerated pizza can things.
Ok well this is where the trouble starts. Last weekend my roommate opened the refrigerator rather abruptly and the pizza can thing fell out and she just shoved it back into the freezer.
The damn thing froze! It had burst open a bit, and was rock hard when I attempted to open it. I had to break it apart and defrost it in pieces, which was a major pain in the rear let me tell you. Then I had to attempt to make it pizza shaped!

For those of you who have never made pizza from scratch or dealt with a lump of pizza dough that stuff is ridiculous! You spread it out and it shrinks back into a ball. Well luckily I have some cousins who have dealt with pizza on a regular basis and both recommended using flour on the cutting board to help shape it. Lovely. except for one tiny issue. I don't have any flour. My roommate was out at her night class, and it was getting dark, the darn oven was already on and it was too late to turn back now so what could I do? I scrounged around in my pantry and found, pancake mix! Honey-wheat pancake mix to be exact. So well what could I do? I used it! It didn't take much, less than 1/3 of a cup really.

And once I had the dough spread well enough (lumpy as heck,) but even as it would get, I let it pre-bake and made the sauce with all of my  previously documented seasonings, making a rather questionable but tasty concoction all the same. The rest of the baking experience turned out all right and I had no further issues except that the pizza that was supposed to be baked in 18 minutes max took about 30 minutes to bake through. (Maybe my stove/oven don't get hot enough?) It turned out a relative success, but tasted a little bit like pancake, it was sweet in a way that pizza had never been sweet before. But yay for pizza leftovers! now I have lunch for tomorrow and possibly Wednesday unless I get really hungry tomorrow or am too lazy to make breakfast and just eat some pizza. Whateves. That's the beauty of being a college student, we don't really get to be picky anymore. And besides, when you have labs at 7:30am you can't really function enough to care what you're eating anyway.

I guess the lesson for today is don't give up? Learn from cooking mistakes, and keep the kitchen clean.

Seriously, clean dishes after each use, and after every meal; it keeps them from piling up and becoming overwhelming, and keeps the cupboards ready for whenever you have surprise study groups. It also makes cooking and cleanup soooooo much easier. Luckily my roommate and I are both relatively cleanly creatures and we take turns cleaning the kitchen, living room, and dining room every week. Life as a student is much nicer when there aren't huge messes to deal with all of the time. (I guess that's my message of the day.)

Ciao!

Ink_Stained

It's beginning to look alot like.. Christmas. In October?

Backstory!

Be warned: this long-ish bit, has nothing to do with the title. If you want to fast-forward my past public transportation misadventures, move on down to the next bit after the bold font!

I don't know about anyone else's experiences with public transportation, but until a month ago I had never set foot on a bus, except for the occasional field trip in grade school. Davis is a lovely little community and is made for the broke college student with bike paths and bike racks galore! This is awesome, unless you don't really know how to ride a bike and the one time you tried you hit a car, and face-planted in the road. More on that later.

Anyway, back to buses. UCD is exemplary in going out of the way with the bus system just for students, run by students. Our lovely buses are dubbed the unitrans. Why? I haven't the faintest clue, we just call em the big red buses, because they are big, and well red. Nuff said. My first experience with the big red buses was quite an adventure in of itself. Being a unitrans newbie, I decided to test the system a week before classes actually started for the fall quarter. I managed to get on the right bus, (well any bus is the right bus, they all go to the school eventually, but whatever,) which is luckily located right across the street from my apartment.

However once I got to campus I saw my destination come, and go. Mistake #1, I didn't realize that in order to get the bus driver to stop you had to pull the little yellow cable with big words plastered beside it reading, "Pull Cord to Signal Driver to Stop." I'm book smart ok? I swear. Anyway so for those of you who don't know the UCD Campus is huge! Enormous! Insanely big. And well, what I didn't know was that the bus I was on goes around the campus and then back through it, and stops at the heart of it, where all the classes kind of branch off. Well I got nervous and a little trigger happy once I realized my mistake, and so when a passenger, who actually seemed to know what he was doing,  pulled the cord and got off, I followed. Big mistake #2.

UCD has a great Veterinary School of Medicine. and it is in the boonies. There is nothing even remotely close to it except for like the equine center and maybe some sunflowers and some cows. I had to go to the MU(Memorial Union, its a big place to get everything from school supplies to fresh bagels, to a place to bowl now and again) to get my Aggie Card (School ID) and basically not have to pay to ride the bus anymore and get whatever other school benefits and such. But yeah, now I'm stranded in the middle of nowhere, the bus is gone, the guy I followed is fast disappearing away from me, I don't have a map, and my GPS isn't worth anything because according to the blooming thing I have arrived at my destination. Joy.

UCD is supposedly known worldwide for having the greatest diversity of trees on campus. And though I am not a Botanist, I had to walk a good 2 miles through the Arboretum before I saw anything even remotely familar from past campus tours and I can honestly say I did not see the same tree twice. Same kind of tree? probably. Same tree? no. (sorry, my humor can be a little dry and tasteless now and again, but I'm the one laughing over this pun, so who cares?)

Let me just say right now. I am directionally challenged! I fully admit it! I also don't pay attention to roadsigns and stuff, and I'm working on that, kinda. Don;t get me wrong, I am very spatially aware, once I'm in a familiar place I'm in good territory. It's when I've never been somewhere and I'm trying to follow directions that I get in trouble. Which happens...alot. Especially on a gigantic campus like UCD! Plus it doesn't help that the buildings are huge and have very tiny names on signs in obscure places where people like myself, would never think to look. Enough of my squabbles. It took me about 2 hours to find the administration building, get directions and a map, (Which is all but useless to someone like me just saying.) only for the map to be rendered worthless by a big construction block, so I took the detour only to get more lost, get more directions from a friendly face, and finally find my way to the MU, successfully get mu ID card and then proceed to attempt to find the nearest bus. (Little did I know that if I had gone out of the back of the MU there are buses right there, one of which I now use frequently to get home.)

I found the buses! After walking in many a circle, and once I did, the bus I needed to get home was, lo and behold! Not in service. Joy. So I sat there for another hour, (I could have easily walked home in like 20 minutes, I only live a mile and a half away from the school, except for the whole getting lost issue) and waited for some other bus to take over our route. Which eventually happened and then I got home, and stayed there until school started.

Most of these past bus rides have been trips to learn from. I now know that you never wake up late to catch the bus right before 8 am unless you don't mind being smashed into a bus with a ton of other students, (so close that sardines would feel claustrophobic,) for one of the most uncomfortable bus rides ever. One in which a girl half your height has her face smashed into your chest, and the tall guy behind you is breathing into your scalp, and thank goodness you washed your hair that morning.

I also now know that you never make eye contact with the guy sitting next to you, or attempt to make polite conversation, and above all do not smile! I come from a small town where my graduating class was under 100 people and so I'm used to friendly hellos and idle chit-chat with strangers, only to part and never bother to think twice about the occurrence. Here in Davis it is such an overpopulated community, no one knows each other and everyone is starving for attention; which unfortunately, often leads some people to misunderstand a polite, friendly attempt at conversation (to slake boredom) as flirtation. The overbearing way in which I was hit on, after remarking that I liked a guy's shirt, was lesson enough to leave other people alone. Watching the girl across the aisle from me pick her nose repeatedly only to wipe her discoveries on her pants taught me to ignore them entirely. Big mistake #3.

Today

In which another valuable lesson is learned, in the art of taking the bus. 

It turns out that when you get on the bus and there is a seat available, but other people are standing, that seat is open for a reason. Most likely a good one, therefore you should not count your lucky stars and jump into the open seat without observing why it is that no one is sitting there. Which is not what I did today. 

It's early afternoon, and even though it wass freezing this morning, it is now a lovely 80+ degrees F and everyone is still in their morning sweaters and the bus is starting to overheat, so naturally, eveyone opens up the windows a crack. (Only because they have little things that don;t allow you to open the windows more than a handspan, ever, well unless in case of an emergency but anyway,) And I in my trust that ignoring other passengers, gleefully take my seat and begin to text my best friend about plans for the day. It isn't until we actually begin to move that I realize my mistake. 

A breeze blew through the window and brought unwanted gifts with it. I didn't notice the little white things on my phone screen until it faded to black, as I waited for a response, and when I decided to question the source, thinking it was coming from the window, I turned to my left. To my horror, I realized that the man sitting next to me, earbuds blaring some nameless rapper's foul attempt at rhyme, scratching his head, was shedding. His grey hoodie did well to camouflage his problem, but now that I knew what to look for, I realized that his skin flakes were in disgusting piles on his shoulders and were gently floating my way with each passing wind. I wanted to gape. Instead I clamped my mouth firmly shut and fought the urge to squeal as I watched the snowlike stuff settle on my pants. Perhaps the poor guy couldn't help his dandruff, but I still get the heeby jeeby's and feel itchy just thinking about it. Granted it only happened an hour ago but geez! So yeah I rode home in silence, (screaming on the inside) and could not get off that bus fast enough. I know I could have gotten up, but I didn't want to be rude. 

So yeah, for whomever shall read this I hope you take the lessons to heart and learn from my mistakes!

Goodluck

Ink_Stained

Beginnings: Take 2!

This is the original beginning to this blog. 

It was written and posted on the 11th of April 2010:

First off: Hello,
____I've never blogged before so, bear with me please. I would like to use this blog primarily to try out story ideas. However, please be warned, my story ideas, plots and characters may change on a whim. Thanks.

____Ok, a little about myself, I am a music fanatic. Any and all types of music fascinate and inspire me. I love coffee but I only have it on rare occasions. I'm naturally hyper, so any added caffeine just makes me jumpy. I am indeed a bookworm and I find some of the most beautiful people between the pages of a book. Poetry enlightens me but I don't live quoting sonnets in my day to day life, However, Shel Silverstein has been one of my favourite poetic authors of all time. An example of his work is right below:

INVITATION
If you are a dreamer, come in.
If you are a dreamer, a wisher, a liar,
A hope-er, a pray-er, a magic bean buyer . . .
If you're a pretender, come sit by my fire,
For we have some flax golden tales to spin.
Come in!
Come in!

by Shel Silverstein

Sorry I just couldn't resist, I absolutely Love that poem.

____Movies and popcorn are made for each other and I have to admit that I appreciate that combination weekly.
Some of my favourite movies are: Memoirs of a Geisha, Pride and Prejudice, Pirates of the Caribbean movies, The Count of Monte Cristo, The Resident Evil series, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, House of Flying Daggers, The Princess Bride, Underworld, Interview with a Vampire, and 27 Dresses.

A favourite quotation of mine:

" Just like the seasons of the earth all things must change, nature reinserts a balance into itself through the process of Spring through Winter. But unlike nature We as individual Human beings must decide. Make a conscious choice and effort to find balance within ourselves in order to become better, or at least have a small sense of normality. That, our choices our decisions, our changes of personality those are our Seasons."
Myself

Also my motto is, "Smile Lots, Laugh Always."

----Some last minute facts about me:

-I am a book worm and digest at least one to two

chapters of any book on my nightstand before bed.
-I love to draw but never seem to have time for it

anymore.
-I enjoy laughter, and basking in its ambiance at

least once a day is what keeps me going.
-I am religious, but am not what some would call

devout.

-I've been called an "Old Soul in a Modern World"

before or "A Closet Victorian."
-I currently feel as though I am writing a sequel to

the song " I am, I am", from Nacho Libre.

Well anyway thank you for stopping by and if you read though all of my mindless psycho-babble I applaud you and say Brava!

~*Have a beautiful day!*~

InkChild

Beginning of Diary of a Toothpaste Princess

~*~

Time Jump!!!!!

It is now October 17th, 2013

Three years later and my musical tastes have, if nothing else, grown.  However, I found my ipod from High School, and I still adore every song; so they haven't really changed. I'm a bit more cynical than I was 3 years ago, but I'm still a bookworm; only now once I'm in bed its lights out! I don't know why, but since I've hit my 20's I can no longer fully function on only 1-3 hours of sleep. It's kinda depressing. My housemate teases me, and calls me an old lady.

Oh well, I'm getting my shut-eye so who cares. But yeah, I started this up again to kind of use it like a journal and document my unexciting adventures in Davis. I've already had quite a few, which I will be happy to recount in my spare time. Though most will be boring, and odd, and more than likely not make any sense, I will post them anyways. So if you are interested in the mundane existence of a college student. Enjoy! Otherwise, I promise to not be offended as you pass on by. 

By the way I still Love, Love, Love, Silvertein to bits and pieces. 

Ink_Stained

Also FYI:

 Ink_Stained refers to inkstained fingertips from writing notes and drawing all day. I don't have any tattoos. And I don't plan on getting any, I'm way too fickle. I can't even handle having the same nail polish for two weeks.  Ok ,now that that's cleared up.  Uh, bye.