Neighborhood Conversations pt. 1.

(This conversation takes place between 2 idiots, standing outside of my bathroom window)

Idiot 1: Girls get this sentimental thing and it kicks in, I don't mean to be a pig or anything, but that's Dylan's thing.  He's got game and stuff too, but all he has to do is start talking about his life.  And like if a girl has had something bad happen to her, then there's that emotional connection and that's all women need for you to get in their pants.  They play it off, but the way I see it now, it's only a matter of time.  And once it happens, I usually do a pretty good job and then it's in.  It's settled, it's there.

Idiot 2: Dude, when I was going to school, and my first period class I went to there was this super hot chick.  And the first day of school I show up to class late as fuck, and I walk in and I got brand new black pants on and a nice looking shirt and shit.  And Dylan had just like cut my hair.  He had shaved my head except for this right here.

Idiot 1: Nice.

Idiot 2: Which was about that long so I looked like fucking, like, Tin-Tin or some shit, you know, and like I had just started working out again.  So I show up in like nice pants, good shirt, and like my fucking biceps are like bulging out of like the shirt and shit.  And I show up and I sit down like I don't give a fuck because I haven't been to school in 4 years, so I sit down like I don't give a shit, you know?  And then like so this girl sits next to me and we're kind of talking or whatever, you know, and the next class I got her number.  And then I decided to get my hair for work to be more professional and show up to school wearing this, dude, and she fucking stops talking to me.

Idiot 1: Sometimes you gotta pay the price!

Idiot 2:  Yeah dude, no seriously.  Like, I'm the same person dude.  I've gotten even buffer since then.

(maybe she didn't stop talking to you because of your haircut, though...)

Apartment.

I'M FINALLY MOVED INTO MY APARTMENT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The Laundry Debacle and How Purgatory Became Hell.

Since I've had nothing to do but sit around, I figured it's probably about time to do some laundry.  You know, clean the clothes that I've worn over the last couple of weeks, wash the sheets for my new bed when I move into my apartment this weekend.  Basically just get my act together, maybe.

The other day, when "the angel" came to my rescue, she showed me how to purchase a laundry card so that I could do my laundry.  I thought I had it all figured out.

I was wrong.

Now, I've been doing my laundry for about 10 years.  I'm a pro now.  But my college didn't make us pay for laundry.  It was great!  Free laundry.  I knew how to work the machines.  The machines here are actually the exact same as at school, except here they cost $1.25 to wash a load of clothes.  Alright.  And the dryers cost $1 to dry.  Fine.  I'm an adult now.  I can do this.

So I go to the laundry card dispensing machine and put $5 in for my card.  That'll cover 2 loads of laundry and I'll have some spare change left on the card.  Perfect.  I grab my clothes and sheets and head to the laundry room.

I throw my clothes in one washer and my sheets in the other.  I put the laundry card into the first machine and it says "Low Balance - $0."  What?????  I just put $5 on this card!!!  So I try again.  "Low Balance - $0."  The stupid laundry card dispensing machine ate my money!!!

I knock on "the angel's" door.  No answer, except for the yaps of what I can presume is her tiny and adorable dog.  I wander down to the building office.  There is a nice girl there.

Me, pointing to the machine: Hello, the machine ate my money.  It ate my $5.

Nice girl: Oh.  Um.

Me: I put my $5 in and the washing machine says I have no money on it.

Nice girl: Oh, you have to pay $5 for the card and then put money on it.

Me: Oh.  What.

Nice girl: Yeah, the card costs $5 and then you can put money on it for the laundry.

Me: Oh.  Thanks.

I go back to my room to retrieve another $5 bill, mutter "What a rip-off" under my breath, and head back to the laundry card dispensing machine with my $5 in hand.  I get the $5 balance on my card, finally, and go back to the laundry room.

I pay the machines and they start.  28 minutes later, my clothes and sheets are clean.  I think to myself, "Hey, I'll save some money and put both my clothes AND my sheets into one dryer.  Bargain!!!"  I put everything into one dryer and go back to my room for the 45 minutes that it will take to dry my things.

Yet when I get back, naturally, my things are not dry.  Because probably I had too many things in the dryer.  I think I can actually hear the dryer saying, "HAHAHA GOOD ONE LINDSAY."  I sneer at it.  For a moment we're at at standoff.  I separate my clothes and sheets and, thanks to the remaining $1.50 on the card, I start up the dryer with just the clothes in it.  I then retreat back to my room again to get another $1 to put on the laundry card for the dryer full of sheets.

But SURPRISE!!!  The money machine only takes bills higher than $5.  Does that shock anyone?  Nope?  Me neither.  So I go back to my room yet again to get my debit card.  I put my debit card into the credit card machine and SURPRISE!!! The lowest denomination of money you can put on a card with a credit card is $10.  Anyone shocked now?  Nope?  Alright cool we're still on the same page.

And that's how I spent $20 to do 2 freaking loads of laundry in this stupid place.

(Also, fun fact: I went to the television that "the angel" showed me and OF COURSE they don't have ABC Family.  You'd think that "the angel" would've mentioned this to me the other day when I said that I wanted to watch Pretty Little Liars on Tuesday night.  But nope.  So back to sitting in my room, alone, waiting for it to post at midnight tonight on Hulu.

Which, fun fact, I found that out last night: shows are posted at exactly midnight PST from that night.  I guess I can't complain too much.

Oh and, fun fact: I'm putting my pride away after "the angel" failed to mention that ABC Family isn't part of their cable program and I'm going to try to be friends with her.  She does have a dog, after all.)

Purgatory and the Angel.

I'm at this weird place in my life right now.  Like, literally.  Physically, I'm at a real weird place.  You see, we arrived in California last Friday, my mom and I.  Got an apartment for myself on Saturday.  Stayed in a hotel with my mom until Tuesday, when she left to go back to New Jersey.  But I don't actually get to move into my apartment until later this week.  Hence why I'm at a weird place.

It's what I'd like to call a kind of purgatory.

You see, I've been staying at a local college since Tuesday.  It's a nice place.  I have an entire suite to myself, so that's been fun.  The internet is free, and it's wireless.  So for the last three days, I've basically just sat in bed, watching the final season of Friday Night Lights, eating Oreos, and being a bum.  I don't start work until later this week.  So it's just this until Thursday.

Life's great, right?  Why am I complaining?

Because Purgatory.

Now, I've kept as busy as I could.  I had friends in town that I hung out with until Thursday.  I had errands to run on Friday and I went to a movie at night.  Even yesterday, now that I'm alone and have no friends out here, I was content with watching a few episodes of Weeds and, like, 8 episodes of FNL.  Content!  I was content!

But then, tonight, the Tony's were on.  "Why not?" I said.  "Neil Patrick Harris is hosting," I said.  "Let me hook up my television and... What the?" I said, as I looked around my room and discovered there is NO CABLE HOOKUP IN MY ROOM.  Alright, fine.  I won't watch the Tony's.  I won't watch GSN.  I won't watch anything but Netflix, and I still have a couple episodes of FNL left to watch.  I'll be alright.

But then, I thought to myself, what about... Tuesday?  Oh my god, what about Tuesday?  Tuesday!  WHAT AM I GOING TO DO TUESDAY?!

Guys, Tuesday is when Pretty Little Liars comes back.  And I don't have a cable hookup in my room.

So today I sat in bed, wallowing, crying, dying (not really) that I won't be able to watch PLL Tuesday night, my one night the entire summer I'll actually be able to watch it live because I am too poor to pay for cable once I move into my apartment.  Just one night of getting to live-see Caleb and Toby and Ezra and Ian and now Sean Faris is going to be on the show and I guess finding out who red coat is and I can't even do that.

UNTIL: An angel came and knocked on my door.  She called herself "The RA."  She told me she didn't even know anyone was staying in this building.  She asked me if I needed anything.  I questioned where I could watch television.  She took me down the pathway to the building next door and showed me the most glorious of things: a giant, flat screen TV.  That no one uses.  Because basically nobody is on campus in the summer.

All.  Mine.

This angel also showed me where to to my laundry.  Because I have a lot now.  And now I know where I can do it.

Maybe I'll even go out into the quad and join the shirtless boys playing bocce ball one day this week?  Or maybe I'll ask the guys who walked past my room bouncing a basketball, who stopped outside my door to announce that "Someone is here" before walking on, if I can bounce a basketball with them sometime this week??  Maybe I'll have a posse of college friends/minions by the time I leave here???

Maybe purgatory isn't such a bad place after all??????

So I Made It to California, Now Where's Seth Cohen?

All my life, I've been waiting to find Seth Cohen.  Well, alright, since 2003 I've been waiting to find Seth Cohen.  For those of you COMPLETELY OUT OF THE LOOP, Seth Cohen is the perfect human.  He's smart, witty, artistic, talented, sarcastic, and basically all-around amazing.

Seth Cohen is from The OC.

Now imagine me as a 12 year old girl, watching Seth Cohen sweep the beautiful (and utterly annoying) Summer Roberts off her feet in Newport Beach, California.  He even managed to get her, as popular as she was, despite:

• his attitude and sarcasm.
• his intelligence level.  Not because Summer Roberts is dumb (she's not) but because Seth Cohen knows he's smart and rubs your face in it.
• his lack of friends.
• his cooler-than-himself parents.
• his love of comic books.
• Captain Oats, his toy horse.

Like, come on, I'm as nerdy as it gets and this is my perfection.  I swooned.  America swooned.  We all swooned for Seth Cohen.

I bought a Seth Cohen poster.  Seth Cohen hung above my bed for several years.  I slept with Seth Cohen every night from the time I was about 13 until I was 16 and I thought I was cool and re-did my room to look like a French hotel room (actually I am cool, it's a very cool room).  I removed Seth Cohen from my wall, but I did not discard him.  No, he remained hidden in my room, safe and sound, for when I needed a little Seth Cohen in my life.

Now, 10 years later, imagine me as a 22 year old girl aka right now, having JUST MOVED TO THE OC IRL.  Sure, I'm a lot more realistic at this point.  I know Seth Cohen's not real.  But come on.  It's SETH COHEN, people.  The perfect human?  I would be lying if I said that my eyes didn't sweep through the crowds on Sunday as I strolled through Newport with my mom.

Seth Cohen, Seth Cohen, wherefore art thou Seth Cohen?  Is it his hair?  Maybe.  Is it his body?  Probably. Is it his nerdiness?  Definitely.

I'm on a quest to find Seth Cohen.  Wish me luck, friends.  I won't rest until I have Seth Cohen in my life again.

(This is the infamous Seth Cohen poster.  This poster is still somewhere in my bedroom in New Jersey.  Who knows, maybe this Seth Cohen will come back to the real OC with me, in my suitcase, at some point in the very near future.)

A Letter to Luke Bryan's Tour Driver

Dear Luke Bryan's tour driver,

This morning, while my mom and I were wandering the streets of Nashville, I accidentally walked directly into you.  I apologized and you said it was alright, but I feel bad.  So again, I am sorry.

You're probably tired, having to drive all over the country and set up for Luke Bryan's concerts every night.  You have a lot on your mind.  I'm sure your job is strenuous and it probably takes a toll on you.  You do not need blonde girls who aren't looking where they are going to plow into you like I did.  It was inconsiderate of me to walk into you.  I need to pay better attention to what I am doing.

I hope that you're enjoying your time in Nashville as much as I enjoyed the two hours I spent there this morning.  It was a pleasure running into you.

Sincerely,
Lindsay

P.S. Go the the Provence Cafe and get a Sherlock Holmes coffee and a salted caramel chocolate croissant.  Tell them Lindsay sent you.

P.P.S. They won't know who I am.

P.P.P.S. Please tell Luke Bryan that I am now a fan.  If he wasn't married, I would ask you to pass along my phone number.

In Case You Didn't Know, I'm Moving to California. Tomorrow.

Tomorrow, I am leaving everything I've ever known, picking up some of my earthly possessions, and moving 3000 miles away to sunny California. I've never been more west than, like, Lancaster, Pennsylvania? So though I know people who have been out there and there is much literature on the subject, here is what I assume California is going to be like:

1. People doing yoga in white linen pants on the beach
2. People doing pilates in white linen pants on the beach
3. People doing yogalates in white linen pants on the beach
4. Pinkberry
5. Bathing suits, everywhere, all the time
6. Lots of sand, everywhere, all the time
7. Kristen Cavallari yelling "STEPHEN!", everywhere, all the time
8. People playing instruments on every single beach pier
9. People roller skating on every single beach pier
10. In-N-Out
11. Avocados. Lots of avocados.
12. Traffic. Lots of traffic.
13. A really, really cool soundtrack to your life (thanks, The OC!)

The weather is going to be gorgeous, always. I'm going to be working at the happiest place on earth. I'll be living on my own so that means avocados for breakfast, lunch, and dinner and also I can walk around naked if I want. I'll probably get myself a cat (or two). What's not to love?

Maybe the fact that I'll be super far away from my family and friends?  Maybe that I will be totally, singularly on my own out there?  Maybe that I don't know where anything even is out there?  Or what the lifestyle is REALLY like?  Like, do I have to go to In-N-Out all the time?  Do I need to start doing pilates?  Are these two things contradictions of themselves? (yes, yes they are)

Needless to say, I'm very excited but also a little scared. But that's normal, right? To be scared of things you don't know, of change? And it's in times like these that, even if you're scared, you just have to do it.  Because if you try, you'll never fail. If you never try, you'll never do anything. And that's bogus. I'm not about to be sitting on my parents' couch when I'm 37, watching GSN and eating tortilla chips and salsa.  Unless that's acceptable, then someone please let me know.

This post is getting more sentimental than I had intended for the (what I hope is) humorous tone I take with this blog. But don't worry. I'm sure I'll have some crazy pants adventure time posts about my road trip soon. After all, crazy tends to follow me.

So tomorrow I leave for a 3000 mile road trip across the United States of America. With my mom.

Road trips are still rites of passage if they're taken with your mom, right? Right? RIGHT?

Write you soon from the west coast, y'all.

The (Small and Pitiful) List of Things I’ll Miss About College

So I graduated college last Friday.  A lot of people I know were sad to be finished with their four years of undergraduate schooling.  No more parties, no more BS (I mean, sorry, "gen ed") classes, no more dorm living, no more fake life.  “Wah I don’t want to leave.  I’m going to miss this so much!!!!!”

You kidding?  College sucked.  It was basically just high school on a larger scale; at least my college was.  And high school sucked.  I am not a school person, and I will not miss about 95% of it.  There are some things I will miss, though, and I’ve compiled a list of them here.

1) $5 Target mirror

I will miss you, $5 Target mirror.  I bought you on a whim at the beginning of my senior year in order to make sure that I looked alright before leaving my apartment.  You were slightly warped and always managed to make me look thinner than I am.  This flattered me.  This also allowed me to skip many a workout on lazy days because I looked great in you, $5 Target mirror, and why bother working out when I look great?  So here’s to you, $5 Target mirror, that I so carelessly threw out in an effort not to bring as much home with me as possible.  You will be missed.

2) Conveniently large bathroom

For some reason, the people who designed the apartments at my college thought to themselves “The bathrooms here should be REALLY HUGE!!!” and ran with that thought.  Therefore, the bathroom was conveniently large.  It was convenient for:

a) having social gatherings of 10-20 people within the confines of only the bathroom

b) having a dance party for yourself

c) Parkour

d) blasting music while you were showering which echoed nicely off of the entirely tiled surfaces within the bathroom

Seriously, why is there so much free space?  Anyway, I enjoyed my time spent in you, conveniently large bathroom, and now any normal size bathroom will pale in comparison because they’re merely not large for absolutely no reason whatsoever.

(Alternatively, the conveniently large bathroom came with an inconveniently small shower in which it was impossible to shave one’s legs.  BUT I DIGRESS.)

3) Absurd amount of closets

I’m tempted to say that the people who designed our apartments at school just loved an abundance of things.  An abundance of space, to be exact, as seen in both #2 and also the absurd amount of closets that we were given.  Not only was there a front entry way closet, there were two fairly decent-sized closets in the hallway that led to our bedrooms, as well as a large back closet that could fit a bed in it.  Not even kidding.  A regular, twin-sized mattress could fit easily in the back closet.  As a matter of fact, the majority of our closets went unused.  Being deprived of closet space growing up and soon to be moving into a most-likely tiny apartment, I regret not having fully embraced the closet space that was so generously bequeathed upon me.  So goodbye, absurd amount of closets.  I never took the time to know you the way that I should have.

4) The prime parking spot

You were the closest parking spot to the apartment buildings on campus and, though you were rarely free, when you were open it was triumphant.  You made me feel invincible when I cruised down the aisles and saw you sitting there, wide open and waiting for me to park my car in you.  And when I was the proud owner of you for those times that were very few and far between, I felt successful.  I felt as though my life had meaning.  I felt powerful.  Until, of course, I had to go to the grocery store and then was left without you*.  Thank you for the memories, prime parking spot.  You know how extraordinary you are to come across.

*Often after leaving for the grocery store, you are forced to park in the really bad parking spot in the very far away parking lot, which you were almost always guaranteed to have to park in on a rainy/snowy/precipitationy day when you have 11 bags of groceries and no friends that are willing to help you carry them.  Stupid really bad parking spot.

5) Extremely quick-heating stove top burner

The front right burner on my stove was a real hot-head, in the best way possible.  When placed on the lit burner, a pot of water would boil in practically 60 seconds.  Maybe even less time.  I could literally watch a pot of water boil in front of my very eyes, basically while watching pigs fly and fat ladies sing.  Every other burner I’ve ever come across in my life has taken minutes, hours, DAYS to boil the water that I just want to cook some simple penne pasta in.  I’ve nearly starved waiting for pots of water to boil.  But not with you, extremely quick-heating stove top burner.  You’ve made all of my cooking dreams come true.  You were so good to me that I chose to ignore that the burner directly behind you never once worked.  Even the time I tried to heat some sauce up and didn’t know why it refused to get hot.  Your tenacity and dedication to get as hot as possible as fast as possible, extremely quick-heating stove top burner, was just the thing to get me through.  I’m sure I’ll never meet another burner quite like you again in my lifetime.

6) Close proximity to literally anywhere you want to eat at all times ever

My college is located right next to a highway that is atrocious to drive on but is lined with basically every restaurant you could ever want to eat at ever (and some you’d probably never actually want to go to but definitely go to anyway because you’re a poor college student and that’s what those places are for, right?  I’ll let you determine those places off of the following sub-list of this master list).  There’s diners, Panera, McDonalds, Wendy’s, Boston Market, IHOP, Chipotle, Japanese places, Chinese places, Thai places, Italian places, Moes, Starbucks, frozen yogurt places, ice cream places, Pizza Hut, Dunkin Donuts, and obviously bagel places galore.  Everywhere you could ever want to eat was basically within a 10 minute round-trip drive.  Now, I'm not sure that I'll ever be in close proximity to literally anywhere I want to eat at all times anymore.  With such a variety of options on the local highway, and such terrible food in the cafeteria, I guess it's only fair they placed my college on said local highway.  Cheers to the close proximity to all of those great(/terrible/gross/awesome) food places.  I'll miss you when I have to cook my own food probably all the time forever when I'm on my own.

7) Groundhog friends

You were always there, sitting outside the full-length windows right by my kitchen table, eating grass and scurrying around on your little groundhog legs.  You were plump and adorable and I will miss watching you scurry while I eat my breakfast.  I’ll always remember the time I got a picture with one of you, little groundhogs.  I’ll see you again someday, friends.

For real, though, I guess I’ll miss my friends and a handful of professors.  You guys are pretty cool.  And I guess I'll miss sitting around pretending to do things when I'm actually just watching GSN and eating tortilla chips and salsa, even though I'll probably continue this into adulthood.  But I’m real glad I graduated, and this list probably reinforces that.  Bye 4ever college.

Hives.

Two near death experiences in one week.  I don't know if I can take it anymore.

I have hives.

Last night, I was sitting on the recliner in my living room.  I had my left leg underneath me.  And I was wearing red pants that have a little side zipper on the bottom part of the leg near the opening for your foot.  So a little bit before 9 pm, that area on my leg started bothering me.  I assumed it was because I was sitting on the zipper and it was digging into my skin.  I asked my father to politely pause So You Think You Can Dance so I could go put on sweatpants.

When I took off my pants and put on my sweatpants, that area of my leg started itching.  So I lifted my sweatpants leg and saw what looked like 7-10 bug bites.  Naturally I assumed there was either a) a bug in my pants or b) a bug in the blankets on the recliner I was sitting on.  So I threw the blankets on the ground and put the pants in a plastic bag quarantine.

I panicked.  WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?????  Meanwhile, my dad is sitting in his recliner laughing at me because all I can say over and over again is “I’M DYING.  I’M DYING.  THAT’S IT, I’M DYING.”

(If I don’t say this part of the story, he’ll never forgive me, so here goes:)  He correctly diagnosed me with having hives.  But I didn’t believe him.  I’M DYING, RIGHT???  So I sit in my recliner, dying, until my mom gets home from dinner with her friend.  The conversation went as follows:

(Mom walks in door)

Mom: Hello family!

Me: I’m dying.

Mom: What?

(still in recliner, dying) Me: I’m dying.

Dad: (laughing)

Mom: What’s wrong?

Me: Something bit me and now I’m dying.

(Mom comes over and looks at my leg)

Mom: That’s weird.

Me: It’s death.

Mom: You’re not dying.  It looks like bug bites.

Me: They’re very itchy.

Mom: Here’s a Benadryl.

Dad: What’s going to happen when you move to California and something like this happens and we’re 3000 miles away?

Me: I’m going to call you and say “I’m dying.”

So then I continue sitting in the chair for a while.  We watch some television.  Then I go upstairs and see that the “bites” began to spread.  All over the calf and shin of my left leg.  I panic again and run downstairs.

Me: THERE’S MORE I’M DYING.

Mom: Oh wow that’s a lot.  Maybe it’s hives.

Dad: I already said that.

Me: IT’S NOT HIVES IT’S DEATH.

Mom: Do you want to go to the hospital?

Me: YES.

Mom: Really?

Me: YES.

Mom: Well, let me just Google “hives.”

(Mom Googles “hives”)

Mom, reading: “Hives can form all over the body, including the arms, lips, tongue, face, and neck."

Me: IT DIDN’T SAY LEGS.

Mom: No, it said INCLUDING.

Me: BUT IT DIDN’T SAY LEGS. IT SAID ARMS. THEY’RE ON MY LEGS.

Dad: (laughing)

Mom: Lindsay, they’re hives I promise.  They’ll be gone tomorrow.  Do you still want to go the hospital?

Me, whimpering: Maybe not…

Mom: Here’s another Benadryl.

Me: They’re still itchy.

Mom: Let’s wrap your leg in this ice pack thing and then go to bed.

So my leg got wrapped in this giant ice pack thing and then I went to bed.

But when I woke up today, THERE WERE MORE.  ON BOTH LEGS.  AND MY ARMS.  EVERYWHERE, GUYS.  EVERYWHERE.

I went downstairs to tell my dad.

Me: There’s more.

Dad: Oh wow.  Call Mom.

(I call Mom; her coworker answers)

Coworker: Hello, Mom’s job.

Me: Hi is Mom there? It’s Lindsay.

Coworker: Hi Lindsay, she went next door.  Try her cell phone?

Me: Ok.

(I try Mom’s cell phone; it’s ringing)

Dad: What happened?

Me: Mom’s not there.

(Mom doesn’t answer her cell phone, as usual)

Me: She didn’t answer.

Dad: Ok.

(I try calling her again)

Me: Still no answer.

(I call back her coworker)

Coworker: She didn’t answer?

Me: Nope.

Coworker: I will get someone to find her.  How are you feeling?

Me: She told you about the hives?

Coworker: Yes how are they?

Me: EVERYWHERE.

Coworker: I’ll get your mom.

We hang up.  I sit patiently waiting (wander around the house trying to find my cat to console me) until she calls back.

Mom: Call the doctor.

Me: Ok.

Mom: Do you want me to call?

Me: I don’t know.

Mom: Put Dad on the phone.

(I give Dad the phone)

Dad: (grumbles on the phone, hangs up)

Me: Well?

Dad: I’m going to call the doctor.

He calls the doctor, and I have an appointment today at 1:30 pm.  I go upstairs to weep silently in my bedroom.

My mom comes home from work, which is conveniently 4 ½ minutes from my house.  She comes upstairs to my room.

(Mom knocks on my door)

Me: Don’t come in.

Mom: Why?

Me: My legs are ugly.

(she comes in anyway)

Mom: The doctor will fix this.  She will give you medicine and they will go away.

Me: Ok.

Mom: Maybe the Benadryl was old.

Me: (gives her a look)

Mom: I’m going to eat lunch, do you want something?

Me: I’m afraid to eat.

Mom: Don’t be afraid to eat.

She goes to eat lunch and I sit in my darkened bedroom, alone, contemplating whether I would rather peel off all of my skin from the bones or throw acid on my legs to get them to stop itching.  After lunch she comes back upstairs.

(Mom knocks again)

Me: DON’T COME IN.

Mom: Why?

Me: I’M UGLY.

Mom, coming in: You’re not ugly.  They will go away.

Me: They better.

Mom: I’m going back to work.

Me: Ok.

Mom: Bye.

Mom goes back to work.  I am still in my darkened bedroom, alone, awaiting my 1:30 pm death call.  I hope to see you all on the other side.

Also, here is a picture of my legs' current state so you can fully grasp how much death I am facing. 

 Warning, it is a lot of death.

Will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful?

What is Wrong With Me?

Last night, I thought I was dying.

It had started on Friday, after I was packing up my apartment to move home from my final semester of college. I grew immensely tired and a pounding headache began in my head. My solution was to go to Hoboken that night with friends.

Bad idea.

The night started off strong. I had a drink (or 3) in my apartment with friends before heading to our destination of choice. After that is when it all went downhill.

You see, when we pulled into a parking deck to put my friend's car (thanks again so much for being our beautiful DD, Chelsea!), her car exploded. Like it was out of a movie. All of a sudden, there was steam cascading up from the hood of her Jeep. Coolanty liquidy stuff was leaking out of her car by the gallon. Should we get out, came the question?

GET OUT IMMEDIATELY, came the reply.

So we got out of the car.  The parking attendant was not nice to us.  He told us that we had to move the car out of the parking deck immediately because he was sure the steaming car would set off the fire alarm.  Um, hello, who turns an overheated car back on?

Also, at this point, I really needed to pee.  I proceeded to yell at him asking for where the bathroom was until he finally managed to point me in the right direction.  I mean, geez, how difficult is it to tell a girl where the bathroom is?

Anyway, the other parking attendant seemed to have some common sense and let us leave the car there so it could at least cool down somewhat while we waited for the arrival of AAA in 90 minutes or less.  Luckily, they arrived in about 20 minutes or so.  Chelsea rode back to the STS in town with the tow truck driver.  My other two friends and I decided to go dancing for a little while.

But somewhere between leaving Chelsea with the AAA guy and getting to the bar we went to I got supremely tired.  Like, more tired than I’ve ever been in my life.  It was real weird.  We were dancing and having fun but I thought I was actually going to fall asleep standing up.

We left the bar soon after because I didn’t think I could be awake anymore.  We took the train back, but have any of you taken late night trains before?  People are weird, man.  They get real weird when the sun goes down.

This guy locked himself in the bathroom and this other guy was legitimately concerned for him, both of them heavily inebriated.  When bathroom guy came out, he just about fought legitimately concerned guy for being legitimately concerned.  Everyone else on the train seemed to also be heavily inebriated as well, except for the three of us.

We felt real bad for the train attendant conductor guy.  We told him he deserved an award.  He told us that they should just let the train attendants drink, too, so that they could deal easier with other drunk people.  Not a bad idea but also not a great one.

When we got back to my apartment, we were freezing.  I layered up and got into bed.  Then the sweating started.  I woke up sweating and gross.  So the natural solution to this problem was to go get bagels.  But I didn’t even want to really eat my bagel.  Which, if you know me at all, is real strange.  Because I basically eat a bagel almost everyday.

After eating half of my bagel, I went to my real home.  I could barely stay awake, though, so I decided to take a 2-hour nap. I woke up periodically, sweat pouring down my face, neck, and back. As though I'd run 10 miles in Florida in the middle of August. That much sweat.

This is when I came to the conclusion that I was not well.

My brother was flying home yesterday from a week in LA, so we had to go pick him up from the airport. We decided to get dinner at the local diner before embarking on our quest to get him.  I ate my entire meal, including dessert. Not my best decision I've ever made. But I felt a little better, mostly just very full and kind of tired. I could deal with that.

When we got to the airport, I was less full and we had about half an hour to kill until my brother's flight landed. So my mom and I decided to get coffee.

Bad idea. Very, very bad idea. 

Within minutes, I felt atrocious. I felt like at any moment my stomach was going to fall out of my body, onto the floor of Terminal A in front of everyone picking up loved ones coming in from the golden state and from wherever else flights were arriving. 

But I managed to hold it together until I got home. It was then that sitting in the recliner in my living room watching Blue Bloods (my parents' choice) that things really went downhill. I went from sweating all day, damp all over, to being absolutely freezing. I wrapped myself in a blanket. I put my extremely warm laptop directly onto my lap. I knew it wasn't cold in my house because my brother had to get a fan for his bedroom and my father was afraid we would all be hot sleeping overnight. I told him I was shivering. He kept the air conditioning off for me. I was very grateful.

I soon went to bed, after popping an Aleve at my parents' suggestion/wishes, feeling extremely weird and like at any moment I was going to pass out. I was snuggled in bed, still shivering, when I heard noises outside. I was convinced there was an intruder either trying to break into my home or vehicle. In actuality, it was probably my brother making noises downstairs. Regardless, I was terrified.

I spent some fearful moments scared for my life until I started thinking rationally, i.e. that it was my brother making noises downstairs. I snuggled back down and got ready for a long spring's nap.

Then I couldn't fall asleep.  So I ended up tweeting a lot about posting this blog today.  If you want to see them you should follow me on Twitter.  But they were pretty dumb tweets.  So don't feel any obligation to follow me.  But if you're into that sort of thing, go for it.

Eventually, I fell asleep.  There's still a pounding in my head today.  I didn't really want to do anything but lay around, though, so that’s what I did and am still doing.

I didn’t even want to eat Mexican food at dinner tonight.  That’s how you really know something is wrong with me.

I don’t really have an ending to this post.  So here’s a picture of my cat Jackson sleeping in a weird pose:

Also, I’ve plugged this post by Hyperbole And A Half blogger Allie Brosh a lot this week, but if you haven’t read it re: her depression and overcoming it then you really need to.  She is the reason I got into blogging in the first place.  And I’ve been meaning to get back into it for a while, and her return this week got me to get there.  So, there’s that.

Also, my apologies for not having written in a really long time.  I know a lot of you have probably been sitting at your computers anxiously awaiting my return.  So now I’m back.  I’m really going to try to write more now.  I promise.

Also, the pictures I drew in this are really poor quality.  I realized after I left my house that I should have used my brother's iPad to draw them with one of those iPad pen things.  Because the new Microsoft Paint is dumb and also I just use my finger on my laptop's track pad so it's annoying.

Welp.  Bye.