Monday, July 18, 2011

I wish...

... I had parents I could coast off of until I'm 25, like most of the people I know. More importantly I wish I had parents who cared. Well, just a mom who did.

I'm 21 years old and I feel as though I am more grown up and have had more life lessons, trials, and just plain, "oh f**k this..." moments in my life than people who are 30.
You might think, "Whoa awesome her parents raised her to be strong and independent", yeah sure they may have... In the form of basically pinning a $20 bill to my collar at a bus stop and wishing me luck on my endeavors in life. Hypothetically of course.

My mother, the woman who birthed me, takes everything so personal and kind of gets offended when someone, other than herself, needs something.
For example, my sister and I were home schooled and on the PTA mom, and financial circuit as well, that says a lot. Mom never had to help us sell crap for band trips, pay for band trips, class rings, prom dresses(I bought my own when Austin took me),etc. whatever. Yeah, she took the time to teach us and stuff for 4 hours a day. But as far as emotional support, wanting to be personally involved in our lives, and just generally caring so far it has been a force to be reckoned with.

Sure it would be nice if mom financially supported her spawn occasionally, but I'm over that. I just wanted my mom to answer the phone tonight so I could share the multiple bits of good news that I have. But I'm guessing it's too much to answer the phone when your daughter calls you 20 times. Yes, 20.

It just kind of sucks to think, and try to accept even though I can't, that when I turn around that mom pretty much isn't going to be there to say, "Hey good job. I'm proud of you."
Instead when she actually DOES answer the phone she tells me, "I wish you'd make up your mind with what you want to do with your life I'm so exhausted with it. You're going to mess it up and be like Ed or Caroline."
Super awesome.
Way to make me feel like total crap about my awesome scholarship.

All I wanted was to hear some excitement and pride in my mom's voice that her kid got a scholarship, is doing OK for herself, and all that jazz. Considering she's the one who made me promise her I would go to college and make sure I could take care of myself.

Yeah, I know my friends care. But it's so different when your mom doesn't expect you to be anything in life. It's a damn shitty feeling.

I get family envy so bad when my roommate tells me her and her parents and sister are going to dinner, or to the movies. Or on vacation together. I'm almost positive the last time my parents and I did something like that I was 12. I wish I had that. I wish I could call or text my mom 40 times a day like they do.

People always ask me why I'm a Daddy's girl. Easy, my amazing dad would move the earth, sun, moon, AND Pluto for me if he had to. If it meant taking care of his baby. My mom would ask how much it costs first and what was in it for her.

Yeah, I know, this sounds like a bunch of me talking crap about my mom but I don't think it's talking crap if it's all true. When things like this happen I feel like I am a terrible human being. I feel so bad. I had such a wonderful day today. The perfect day full of awesome news. And now it's dwindled into 5 pounds of crap in a 1 pound bag. I guess this was the SLAM after the nice stuff.

So why do I blog this instead of talking to my mom? Well, she's ignoring me. But, besides that. My dad always told me to be a woman who is loved and that classy never goes out of style. I'm not sure where this blog falls regarding the last part, but I digress. I'm a lover, not a fighter. I'm patient, just like my daddy, and I'll wait it out hoping I didn't do something too terribly wrong.

I'm sorry this blog was really personal. I promise to try and make these things happier.

Saturday, July 02, 2011

Hook... Line.... Sinker?

I always find the oddest times and things to blog about. I am uncertain of why I do these things. I am uncertain why I do a lot of things.

I start things and have no intentions of finishing them? Why? I know the answer to this one. I test my patience so much. And it always proves to be just as strong as it was before. I already know what I want. Doing things, or starting things rather, that I don't intend on finishing just reinforces the things I want so badly. Or, most importantly, the things I need.

I was at work when an older couple came in shopping for new wedding bands. They had been married for 35 years. And to me that seems like a long time because, well, I have a hard time putting up with other peoples crap for just 5 minutes.
After congratulating the wife, I asked her, "How do you do it? How do you make it work for so long?" And she told me the greatest thing I have ever heard. She said, "You can't have it all." I looked at her with a puzzled expression after she said that and I asked her to explain.

"You can't have it all, you have to give and take. And it's never 50/50, it's more like 80/80. Everyone gives more than half. And you can't expect certain things to always run smoothly, because it's not realistic. No one is perfect but we love them regardless."

Probably not a direct ver batim quote, but you get the gist of what I'm trying to say. It's been said several times by several different people that love isn't a one way street. I think it is. Two people can go the same street, but they have to be willing to not run and walk when their partner has had enough running for one day. You have to sit on the side of said street sometimes and just smile at everything around you and appreciate what you have.

Going back to the thesis of this blog and into the heart of it all. I know what I want, I have to be patient to obtain it. I've been patient for 21 years, what's a few more gonna do to me? Besides, if you know what you want, if you've found the catch all that just takes you above and beyond any kind of happy you've ever felt, if you know it's worth waiting for, then time seems obsolete.

I'm gonna fall back on my favorite thing in the entire world. 1 Corinthians 13. I always remember this when I find myself pondering love. I fall back on it basically because if you dissect it, it teaches you how to love someone just as the woman who came in the store learned to love her husband. Be patient, generous, and kind. Don't keep track of anything they did wrong so you look like a better person when you probably screw up just as much as they do. All these little things are like the gears inside of a pocket watch, if one thing breaks it's not going to work properly. Each thing helps the whole being survive.

By no means is life perfect, no. But all things are made perfect in love.

♥ Toodles

Tuesday, June 07, 2011

you're basically that one chick in the movies who sits in the bar with lipstick and a revolver

So what is it... Like 2 weeks? They, whoever "they" is, say it takes 2 weeks of committing to do something to turn it into a habit. Just something you do out of routine. 2 weeks to become addicted to something.

I fail at blogging, we all know this. But I really feel like trying this time? For some reason or another. Maybe it's because my blog can't judge me for things I do that might seem out of character or just plain not like me. But hey, that's part of growing up right? Making mistakes and finding out who you are in the process.

Got a little philosophical on ya there... My apologies.

It's been a weird frustrating yet happy week, I'm not sure why it's both but I guess that means its balancing out fairly well. Today in itself, to me, was rather productive. I got a lot of paperwork and things done. Me and the roomies looked at some houses today and we think we found a pretty nice one.

I suppose that's all for now. Check out my bear's blog

Toodles ♥

Thursday, March 24, 2011

Day 3 of Beach Body Insanity and typing is the only form of movement I can do that doesn't hurt.
I spent about 20 minutes laying in the doorway of my bedroom to my bathroom trying to make it to the shower. I'm exaggerating how sore I am, but it's fun to be a drama queen sometimes.

Spring break was killer. Lovely. An amazing freakin week. I wish Lubbock had a Kerbey Lane so I had their delicious queso at my disposal. The picture ^^^up top is a view from my favorite restaurant in Austin, Oasis. That view is why it's my favorite. Oh, yeah, and the food is pretty damn amazing.

I can't wait to live down there, it sucks not knowing where everything is though. I know Lubbock like the back of my hand and I could probably drive a taxi here.

I wish I had more time, and money, to travel. I love it. I love road trips and flying. I'm headed to Vegas in 2 weeks for a school trip again. I'm 21 this time too. Can you say... Penny slots? I should probably unpack from Austin before I leave. why doesn't luggage do that on it's own? :(

Anyways, I just thought I would write a post for no good reason?

Also, I wish it was socially acceptable, and basically that this just actually happened on regular occurrences, for people to break out in coreographed dance sequences. Where the people around us would just know what to do by sheer intuition of the kind of day someone is having. Not too much to ask is it? Perhaps I live in a small fantasy world where the band marches out for the bridge of my number and animated birds from disney movies are chirping around me encouraging my happy-go-lucky attitude.

♥ Toodles

Saturday, March 12, 2011

I have fully realized now no matter what I do to make myself happy, which is the most important thing, not everyone is going to be happy. People are going to be left out, sometimes not texted back, sometimes that person is going to me or you. It's a sad part of life, but you nut up and shut up because a time or two ago you've probably done the same thing to someone else.

I have always know the most important thing in life to be making yourself happy and surrounding youself with those you love and enjoy being around. So you want to go see your best friend tonight, who you never ever see, when they call you up but you already told someone else you didn't feel like doing anything 3 hours beforehand?

Obviously you can tell this little rant is rather personal. I won't cloud the air with details because I vented and I am over it.

Tomorrow marks the last workday before I start my amazing spring break adventure. I am so ready for it. Austin, San Marcos, and San Antonio await me and the bestie for some good times to be had for sure. But until then the clock will move extremely slow because I want it to be Monday morning already. Boo!

I really have nothing else to blog about, I kind of got it all out.

♥ Toodles

Tuesday, March 08, 2011

I feel like I left my beer soulmate in a bar named after a bug

So we're gonna play a game called "Theresa is actually starting to remember she has a blog". Wanna play? Oh, what's it about? Well it's sort of like if Apples to Apples were a drinking game.

I'm sick right now, so my humor is kind of dry and sarcastic. But that may be because I have been eating nothing but soup and drinking tea for the past 3 days. Liquid diet much? I'm one of those people that refuses to take medicine unless absolutely necessary, like a court order or something. I'd rather take vitamins or just simply get the rest I need.

Because I am a Go-Hard and all that scholastic stuff, I do still go to class. And what are we talking about in psychology, you might ask? Sleep deprivation. I've been convinced the reason why I am sick is because I usually only get 4 hours of sleep every night. Bad.

But I digress from the sickly sadness that has invaded my happy bubbly world.

Spring Break is less than a week away and I am wholly excited for it. This is the first Spring Break I will actually be getting a break. I'm headed down to Austin/San Antonio/San Marcos/Maybe Dallas for the entire week. It's going to be fantastic. Except for the whole looking for apartments thing, I've never been much on that. But I am excited, nevertheless.

On that note, in 5 months I will be in a town where no one knows me. Well there is someone that knows me there but it's not likely that they really give a ratsass at this point in time... But I could be wrong. That's unimportant anyhow. I'm very excited about that also. The whole no one knowing me thing. I can be whoever I want to be. I'll probably just be the same strange girl I am now though, it would be too complicated to make a whole new me when everyone seems to like this one just fine.

I've run out of things to say I think.

♥ Toodles

Saturday, March 05, 2011

"The worth of a book is to be measured by what you can carry away from it." ~ James Bryce

Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes. She has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.

Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag.She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow.

She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.

Buy her another cup of coffee.

Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.

It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry, in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.

She has to give it a shot somehow.

Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.

Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who understand that all things will come to end. That you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.

Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilightseries.

If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.

You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.

You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.

Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.

Or better yet, date a girl who writes.

Written by Rosemary Urquico