Food.

Hello, I’m back. Things have been hectic. Thanks to my wisdom teeth and the medication that goes with it I’ve been starving, in pain, tired, and overall cranky for the last week. Thanks to midterms, most of my time I haven’t spent asleep I’ve spent studying or doing work. Blogging, unfortunately, had to take a backseat.

But I’m back, and ready to talk about food. Why food? Because I’m starving, and if I have to eat another yogurt with a baby spoon I might actually scream.

Introverts like me hate going out to eat. I mean, social interaction is already one point against it, and social interaction outside my bedroom? Really asking a lot of me there.

It’s stressful from beginning to end: “Where do you wanna go?” “I don’t care, wherever you want to go.” “Are you hungry hungry, or just kind of hungry?” Seriously. My heart goes out to vegetarian/food allergy/picky eater introverts everywhere, this part of the event must be 10x worse.

Then we get there. “How many?”

How many? How many?! You’re counting in your head, onetwothreefourfi–and of course your friend has “Seven” right on the tip of her tongue. You’re led in, no big deal, and now you have to order. Drinks, no big deal. Food is where the trouble is.

Since I can’t eat and apparently feel like torturing myself, lets pretend you decide on something absolutely delicious and reasonably priced. If you don’t, again, 10x worse, but let’s say you do. One problem, it has onions, and you hate onions.

Well, what now? Do you ask for them off? No. Never, nothing could ever make that okay. So, you’ll pick them off and pray nobody asks why you didn’t just ask for no onions.

Food ordered, menus collected. Small talk time. My God. Thank goodness you have seven people here, if there were less it’d be even worse. If there were more, to be fair, it’d be even worse than worse. 10x worse.

You survive. What feels like years later your food arrives. Do I speak while chewing or make everyone wait? Do I ask for a refill on my soda? I need a sharper knife…power through, power through. Don’t hold your fork like that.

You’re in the clear. The food is eaten. You ate just the right amount. And then. Oh God. The check.

Eating out is a nightmare, but a nightmare we must all endure. It is fun, or can be in the right environment. Right now I think I’d go anywhere on Earth if it didn’t hurt my mouth.

I guess the message is, don’t take things for granted. Like chewing. And waitresses kind enough to ask first if you want to change anything. And delivery pizza.

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On Disagreements

It’s hard, when you disagree with someone and there’s no chance of either of you changing your mind. It’s worse when there’s no compromise–it’s a yes or no decision, and you think yes and they think no.

That’s where I am with my boyfriend at the moment. And it sucks because we’re in a long distance situation so we can’t talk it out in person. In the end we decided to let it sit for awhile and talk more about it later.

It sucks.

It sucks knowing no matter what the outcome, one of us will be unhappy and the other will feel guilty. It sucks because we both want everything to work but aren’t sure how.

When you disagree with someone you love, and it doesn’t turn into a fight, you both walk away feeling terrible. You both feel like you were in the wrong, and yet can’t bring yourself to change your mind. You both feel like a bad friend/etc. You both want to make the other happy but don’t want to hurt yourself or your relationship doing so.

Disagreements are a part of life–and they’re certainly part of being a couple. Sometimes the obvious answer isn’t so obvious, and sometimes a clear solution to a third party isn’t a solution that would work. Sometimes disagreements hurt worse than fights. It is important to remember–I sometimes forget this–that you are both equal. Don’t give up too easily. Don’t put them over yourself. But don’t put them under you, either.

God, it’s hard. But every disagreement comes to an end eventually. Sometimes it’s best to just…push on through.

My first medical procedure

Well, I got my wisdom teeth out today. Still hurts.

It was the first medical procedure I’ve ever had done, and the first time I’ve ever been put under. The drugs didn’t affect me much. I didn’t feel loopy and could walk right away. The weirdest part for me was how I went right out and woke right up and didn’t dream.

I always dream. I never don’t dream, and I can always remember something from them. It didn’t feel like sleeping, it felt like death. One minute there, totally fine, next minute gone with no experienced feeling.

I often wonder what it will be like to be dead. What it feels like to feel nothing. This was the first time I feel I partially understand. It is possible to stop existing. It’s possible to feel nothing. To not experience anything.

Same with pre-birth. It is possible to not experience anything one moment and then fully experience everything a moment later.

I’m still a little druggy and sleepy so I’ll end this here. I know it’s not very long or introspective or whatever but hey, I’m trying to talk about death and all I want to do is eat popsicles and watch Scrubs, I’m doing the best I can

Hello, you beautiful thing.

Jason Mraz has a song called “Hello, You Beautiful Thing.” I think it’s so lovely. I don’t know many of the words, but the ones that have been stuck in my heart lately are: This is what I’ve been waiting for!

It repeats over and over, in a canon, in a celebration, yes, it’s here, I’ve been waiting for this! Hello, you beautiful thing.

I haven’t spent too long analyzing the song, but its happy little tune makes me think it’s about a flower blossoming, the first few moments of spring, or a first kiss. A moment that comes out of long anticipation and brings joy and beauty. This is what I’ve been waiting for. Hello, you beautiful thing.

It’s lovely. It’s a good song to wake up to.

My alarm last year was Alive with the Glory of Love by Say Anything. It’s loud and rambunctious at the beginning, shredding electric guitar, and then goes into a rhythmic drum beat that usually woke me up. Now I wake up to my phone vibrating and beeping. I might change it to Mraz’s soft voice saying hello, you beautiful thing.

I want each morning to be “what I’ve been waiting for.” I want to want to rise. I want to be invigorated by the sun. I want to hear birds and feel the sun on my face and start the day dancing. Or, at least with a nice cup of tea.

Wake up slow, to quote Banana Pancakes, another cute little song.

I’ve been quite obsessed with waking up and going to sleep lately. The routines we do around sleeping. Perhaps it’s because I’m slowly starting to prefer being awake.

Oh, October

October is my favorite month of the year. It’s perfect sweater weather, perfect time for cider and pumpkin pie, crisp apples and falling leaves. It’s Autumn at its purest. It’s reading a book against a tree with no fear of ants crawling down your shirt. It’s the smell in the air, not quite snow but a whole lot different from the stagnant heat of summer. It’s the overcast afternoons and the starry nights, lit with bonfires….

And I’m spending the first weekend getting my wisdom teeth out and the last weekend in jury duty.

I wish I could enjoy the lovely Boston October, but I guess it will have to wait. Ah well, seasons are always lackluster compared to memories. I remember how exciting December was to me as a kid. Christmas felt like an indescribable miracle that such a day even existed. I would count the days, get a fragment more excited every hour that passed. I remember carefully picking out pajamas on Christmas Eve, so I would look nice in the pictures when I opened Santa’s presents.

Christmas Eve felt like a secret. You knew something amazing was happening the following day but there was nothing you could do but smile gently and wait til morning. October is a little like that. After all, the best day is Halloween on the 31st. You spend the whole month enjoying spooky movies and silly costume ideas, and then on actual Halloween you float through the day as if it were a dream. You dress in your costume like it’s made of icicles and attend your parties and eat your candies in a haze, and then it’s over, and October’s over, and it’s November.

There’s nothing good about November. For us in the states, we have Thanksgiving, which is just a glorified dinner, and Midterm Exams. It’s just a too-long wait til December. And after December? A far, far too long wait til summer.

I do feel lucky, being in the first day of my favorite month. I just wish I wouldn’t have to spend tomorrow getting my teeth pulled. No candy apples for me this year. I’ll have to double up on the pie.