It's been brought to my attention that I appear "changed" to Hannah, a very good friend of mine who I met at my first solo Patrick Stump show.
Prior to striking up a friendship with Anna, I'll admit I was an absolute, crazy, head-over-heels fangirl. Patrick Stump was my guilty pleasure since the summer before seventh grade. My room had (and still has) two signed albums from FOB and Patrick, respectively, in a shadow box and multiple Patrick-related memorabilia pinned on my clusterfuck corkboard. I adored fanfiction, often times stayed up into the wee hours of the morning to read it and write it. My boyfriends would compare my love for them with mine for Patrick. My heart would beat really fast whenever I saw a Twitter DM notification, because I only used to get DMs from Patrick. On Tumblr, I reblogged anything and everything to do with him, commenting on a select few of the items. Hannah and I shared all that together.
I like to think when I became friends with Anna that I was already transitioning out of the whole crazy fangirl thing. I'm sixteen, going off to college in a year, and my priorities had somewhat shifted away from the fanbase into practical things, like maintaining my grades and my relationship with TJ and researching for colleges and doing homework. I can definitely say without a doubt I was no longer obsessive or stalker-esque.
To address specifically what exactly was brought to my attention, I don't think I'm better than anybody. My relationship with Anna is separate, at this point, from Twitter altogether. I hardly even tweet anymore because my phone app is messed up, and when I don't reply to mentions it's because I'm not confident I can keep the conversation, because I feel terrible when I can't keep it up constantly. I talk to the people I go to school with, and TJ, because those aren't conversations, those are streams of thoughts. And I do like Patrick still, but it's different now. I understand that he's not perfect and just a normal person like all of us, though that's not to say I'm not still a fan of his music, which I am. There's a huge difference between being a fan and a fangirl.
I'll admit, when I first read these things, I was like "-rolls eyes- You've got to be kidding me." Then I realized that Hannah had a point. Of course I seemed like I changed for the worse because I'd a) never explained myself and b) basically "disappeared" over night. I was in the wrong, and I still am. I could sit here and make excuses all day for what I've done, but I won't. I need to make efforts with friends, that no matter how long a conversation or what it's about that I'll do what I have to do to change her mind about me. That's on me, and I have to fix it. I will fix it.
Hannah, when you read this, I'm sorry if it seemed like I thought I was better than you, or was ignoring you, or that I deserted you, or anything. I love you to death, and even when I wasn't talking to you on Twitter I still read your tweets and I worried about you every day. Reset?
Love,
Caitlyn
Saturday, April 28, 2012
Thursday, April 26, 2012
Surprise!
School's almost over. Awesome. It's about damn time.
I have a craving for the beach. To feel the cool(ish) breeze, the warm sand in my feet, the heat on my skin. There's just that feeling no other place can create. And I'm going tomorrow with TJ; no one else I'd rather spend the day with. Remind me to definitely wear sun screen, otherwise I'll die.
Depending on how she feels, I may be finally meeting miss Anna! We've been talking for two months now, and I can safely say she's one of my closest friends. She's coming to Tampa this weekend, I think, and while I have zero idea what we'll be doing together besides lunch, I'm sure it'll be fun. If she even comes though. Health is definitely a top priority.
Despite some random recent things, I feel happy. I feel like my life is finally where it should be. And that feeling is perfect.
I have a craving for the beach. To feel the cool(ish) breeze, the warm sand in my feet, the heat on my skin. There's just that feeling no other place can create. And I'm going tomorrow with TJ; no one else I'd rather spend the day with. Remind me to definitely wear sun screen, otherwise I'll die.
Depending on how she feels, I may be finally meeting miss Anna! We've been talking for two months now, and I can safely say she's one of my closest friends. She's coming to Tampa this weekend, I think, and while I have zero idea what we'll be doing together besides lunch, I'm sure it'll be fun. If she even comes though. Health is definitely a top priority.
Despite some random recent things, I feel happy. I feel like my life is finally where it should be. And that feeling is perfect.
Monday, April 23, 2012
Academic Future
I think it's time for a school-related check in, if only because I have so very few of these and because high school will be over a year from now anyway.
Currently, as you all well know, I'm in IB, which is basically college readiness on crack. This year is my last year of taking AP courses, but I'm kinda done with them. My unweighted GPA is 3.33 and my weighted GPA is around 3.74, I think. Definitely will change by the end of the year, since both are rough estimates based on sophomore year. So far, I have passed all of my AP exams (score of at least 3), which have been in World History (3, my first test), Psychology (5, a no-brainer considering my intended major), English Language (3, a miracle), and European History (3, a shock). I take American History and English Literature this year, and while I'm supposed to take French Language in senior year I could care less, considering my IB exams that I'll have to worry about. Speaking of that, I had my first IB exam this year for SL Art, which I think went well. I'll know my scores in a couple months, I hope. I've already taken my SAT (final Reading/Math score of 1360/1600) and ACT (composite of 30/36). My grades for this year are decent, with more B's than C's and a few A's. I'm a part of two honor societies: English and French (I've been voted secretary of French).
My choices are University of Rochester (upstate New York), DePaul University (uptown Chicago), and University of Central Florida (Orlando, by Disney and Universal Studios). However, I can't say that they are listed in any particular order, as each university has its own special draw and its own fall. For Rochester, I am in love with the area (I intend to settle and raise children there), especially the climate, I have an emotional attachment there, and I'm applying to the dual-admission GRADE program, which means that if I'm accepted into undergraduate studies, I'm automatically accepted into my choice graduate program of school counseling; however, Rochester is the most expensive ($60,000 per year undergraduate) and the most prestigious, thus the most difficult to afford and, therefore, attend. DePaul is in an urban area, which I'd like to experience before I settle down and have a family, and it provides my favorite graduate program of Community Counseling, which prepares me for both school interactions and family interactions, like marriage and family therapy; better yet, one of TJ's choices is the University of Chicago, which is only a 20 minute drive away. The downside is that it's a little expensive ($32,000 per year undergraduate), and on-campus or campus-affiliated housing isn't guaranteed for students, so I'd be basically living in an apartment fending for myself for all of my schooling (not a problem if TJ and I live together, though). Finally there's UCF. It's the cheapest (I have Florida Pre-Paid for my tuition), the graduate track I'd use is getting a School Counseling degree with a certification in Marriage and Family Therapy, and getting a job to pay for fees would be fairly easy, considering the theme parks love hiring college students; however, I despise Florida and I don't want to spend an additional 6 years here following high school, plus Orlando is only a 1.5 hour drive from home (meaning I don't have an excuse not to come home for non-holidays, and people could drop by and visit whenever).
A year from now, I'll know where I'm going for the next 6 years (max). Kinda scary but exciting at the same time.
I'm confident in my abilities to maintain good grades (mostly B's) while also staying sane. IB, for my schools, is basically my savior for any merit-based aid, let alone acceptance into the university. Not only does the program offer the rigorous courses that colleges want students taking, but it forces students to create projects that focus on helping others (gaining the "leadership" and "good Samaritan" characteristics colleges crave). If I can stick out this program and keep up with the million other things in my life, I should turn out to be someone colleges chase to have in their student body to the extent that they throw tens of thousands of dollars at me. I need to be that, otherwise I won't be going where I need to go.
Besides not being financially able to go out of state for school, TJ is my only other concern. I've done long distance (as I'm sure you all are well aware), and it was really hard. Things happened, mistakes were made, choices were chosen, and we both ended up hurt in the long run. But if none of that had gone on, then I'd have to say it'd be worthwhile. I'm not going to give up on us just because of a few temporary years apart. If we both stay in Florida (he likes UF), we'd only be 2 hours away from each other, allowing for us to see each other at least once a month. If we both go to Chicago, then not only would we be only 20 minutes apart, but after our first year we could live together. If we both go to New York (he'd go to the Pratt Institute), it's a 6 hour drive, so basically one visit a month at the most, but it's better than the alternative. As for any other combination, we'd have to fly, which frequency would depend on how much spare money we had for plane tickets. Being apart will be really hard, considering how we'll be going from seeing each other basically every day to only a few weekends, but if I'm confident of anything it's that not only will school be distracting us from how much we miss each other but the experience can only strengthen our relationship. I've made any mistake I can before, and I'm not losing TJ because of some crazy impulse. Any unfinished business with any guy has either been finished or the possible repercussions have been worked out (hence why I crossed UNC off my college choice list). I want TJ, end of story, and I'll be by his side for as long as he'll have me, because to choose a girl with a past like mine and keep her is a miracle in my eyes.
I'll have a few more academic updates: the end of junior year with my final test scores for this year's AP and IB classes, when I receive my acceptance letter(s), and when I make my decision as to which one I pick.
---Caitlyn
Currently, as you all well know, I'm in IB, which is basically college readiness on crack. This year is my last year of taking AP courses, but I'm kinda done with them. My unweighted GPA is 3.33 and my weighted GPA is around 3.74, I think. Definitely will change by the end of the year, since both are rough estimates based on sophomore year. So far, I have passed all of my AP exams (score of at least 3), which have been in World History (3, my first test), Psychology (5, a no-brainer considering my intended major), English Language (3, a miracle), and European History (3, a shock). I take American History and English Literature this year, and while I'm supposed to take French Language in senior year I could care less, considering my IB exams that I'll have to worry about. Speaking of that, I had my first IB exam this year for SL Art, which I think went well. I'll know my scores in a couple months, I hope. I've already taken my SAT (final Reading/Math score of 1360/1600) and ACT (composite of 30/36). My grades for this year are decent, with more B's than C's and a few A's. I'm a part of two honor societies: English and French (I've been voted secretary of French).
My choices are University of Rochester (upstate New York), DePaul University (uptown Chicago), and University of Central Florida (Orlando, by Disney and Universal Studios). However, I can't say that they are listed in any particular order, as each university has its own special draw and its own fall. For Rochester, I am in love with the area (I intend to settle and raise children there), especially the climate, I have an emotional attachment there, and I'm applying to the dual-admission GRADE program, which means that if I'm accepted into undergraduate studies, I'm automatically accepted into my choice graduate program of school counseling; however, Rochester is the most expensive ($60,000 per year undergraduate) and the most prestigious, thus the most difficult to afford and, therefore, attend. DePaul is in an urban area, which I'd like to experience before I settle down and have a family, and it provides my favorite graduate program of Community Counseling, which prepares me for both school interactions and family interactions, like marriage and family therapy; better yet, one of TJ's choices is the University of Chicago, which is only a 20 minute drive away. The downside is that it's a little expensive ($32,000 per year undergraduate), and on-campus or campus-affiliated housing isn't guaranteed for students, so I'd be basically living in an apartment fending for myself for all of my schooling (not a problem if TJ and I live together, though). Finally there's UCF. It's the cheapest (I have Florida Pre-Paid for my tuition), the graduate track I'd use is getting a School Counseling degree with a certification in Marriage and Family Therapy, and getting a job to pay for fees would be fairly easy, considering the theme parks love hiring college students; however, I despise Florida and I don't want to spend an additional 6 years here following high school, plus Orlando is only a 1.5 hour drive from home (meaning I don't have an excuse not to come home for non-holidays, and people could drop by and visit whenever).
A year from now, I'll know where I'm going for the next 6 years (max). Kinda scary but exciting at the same time.
I'm confident in my abilities to maintain good grades (mostly B's) while also staying sane. IB, for my schools, is basically my savior for any merit-based aid, let alone acceptance into the university. Not only does the program offer the rigorous courses that colleges want students taking, but it forces students to create projects that focus on helping others (gaining the "leadership" and "good Samaritan" characteristics colleges crave). If I can stick out this program and keep up with the million other things in my life, I should turn out to be someone colleges chase to have in their student body to the extent that they throw tens of thousands of dollars at me. I need to be that, otherwise I won't be going where I need to go.
Besides not being financially able to go out of state for school, TJ is my only other concern. I've done long distance (as I'm sure you all are well aware), and it was really hard. Things happened, mistakes were made, choices were chosen, and we both ended up hurt in the long run. But if none of that had gone on, then I'd have to say it'd be worthwhile. I'm not going to give up on us just because of a few temporary years apart. If we both stay in Florida (he likes UF), we'd only be 2 hours away from each other, allowing for us to see each other at least once a month. If we both go to Chicago, then not only would we be only 20 minutes apart, but after our first year we could live together. If we both go to New York (he'd go to the Pratt Institute), it's a 6 hour drive, so basically one visit a month at the most, but it's better than the alternative. As for any other combination, we'd have to fly, which frequency would depend on how much spare money we had for plane tickets. Being apart will be really hard, considering how we'll be going from seeing each other basically every day to only a few weekends, but if I'm confident of anything it's that not only will school be distracting us from how much we miss each other but the experience can only strengthen our relationship. I've made any mistake I can before, and I'm not losing TJ because of some crazy impulse. Any unfinished business with any guy has either been finished or the possible repercussions have been worked out (hence why I crossed UNC off my college choice list). I want TJ, end of story, and I'll be by his side for as long as he'll have me, because to choose a girl with a past like mine and keep her is a miracle in my eyes.
I'll have a few more academic updates: the end of junior year with my final test scores for this year's AP and IB classes, when I receive my acceptance letter(s), and when I make my decision as to which one I pick.
---Caitlyn
Friday, April 20, 2012
Part One: "American Pie"
I had a boyfriend (see "Him" part 1), and I decided to spend part of my summer at Duke TIP. I wasn't planning on finding what I got, only that I wanted to learn and be away from my family.
First day of classes before mandatory breakfast, all us TIPsters were outside Davidson College's dorms by the cafeteria. I'd really bonded with my hallmates, and since some of us were in the same class we grouped talking together. I briefly turned away from the conversation and let my eyes wander, and there he was: about fifteen feet away, shoulder-length brown hair, tanned skin, dark blue shirt, tan cargo shorts, kinda chubby but definitely possibly cuddly. This was no simple observation, however: the second I saw him, I felt my heart skip beats, and immediately noticed how nervous I was. Like the creep I was at 13, I couldn't stop staring. I felt like, something was supposed to happen with us, even though I didn't know what. All I was sure of was that I'd never felt that way before. Eventually, my friend Marni noticed, and by the time we gathered together inside for breakfast she'd found out his name: Graham. Throughout the day, I couldn't quit thinking about him or that I really wanted to go to the dance with him the following Saturday, but I was equally terrified of rejection and technically cheating on my boyfriend. He found out my name due to my devious friends, and by the end of the second session of classes following lunch I knew I had to find him. I roomed on the third floor, he in the basement, and together with Marni we set out to find him. I got up the courage to knock on his door, and since we weren't allowed in rooms of the opposite sex he came out in the hall to join me. I awkwardly shook his hand. Time: 7/14/08, 4:46 PM (by his approximation).
"Hi, I'm Luna."
"I'm Graham."
"You know that's not my real name, right?"
"Yeah I kind of figured, but it suits you." -awkward silence-
"So uhm, I was wondering if, uh, you wanted to go to the dance with me on Saturday night."
"Sure."
I didn't have time to find out what "Sure" meant before Marni dragged me up three flights of stairs to make our meeting for dinner on time. Paranoid, I made her find out, and it turns out sure meant yes. Graham and I didn't speak until the following day at free time, when I made my phone calls to family and my boyfriend. Naturally, Jimmy didn't pick up when I called so I left a message. My mom wanted to chat a little, and so I did. Five minutes into it, Graham came outside where I was, and because I wanted to talk with him I hung up on my mother after a hurried good-bye. I caught him before he went back inside. We spent the remaining time walking around outside and talking, about anything and everything. It became a ritual of ours for the rest of the three weeks, to talk or hang out during free time. We also made it a point to coordinate our evening activities together.
Almost four years later, the details are a little hazy, so the rest is a blur. We slow danced, we hugged a lot, held hands, cuddled. We were basically the perfect relationTIP. Our first kiss, his very first kiss, happened when we were standing together in my hallway while we were parting ways for some activity or other. We'd hugged, like we usually do, but then we lingered. We mumbled a few words, and then I leaned in and kissed him. It was sweet and innocent, everything a first kiss should be, and everything I was back then. There were more kisses just like it. We took tango lessons, hung out at reading, and he let me briefly dress him as a girl for transexual day. I was content with someone being here with me for me and not my turbulent past, for not knowing that I had someone else back home. I laughed at his lip sync performance of "Love Shack," and we were close during the last dance of the program. Afterwards, we exchanged grateful phrases of the time together, emails, and phone numbers. Since we lived ten hours apart, I figured we were "over," but would still be friends. We said goodbye that night, kissed sweetly like we usually did, and then I didn't see him. My mom had come to pick me up, and I was gone very early the next day. He called after I'd gone, asking to see me, but we weren't going back.
Over the next month, we talked on the phone some, since I didn't have texting yet, but I was busy trying to make Jimmy care. I falsely told him I felt bad about my so-far fling with Graham, and a bunch of other really desperate things, but 6 months into our relationship he left me for high school. Then Graham and I moved into using AIM to talk, and we never stopped. He quickly became my best friend, or at least that's what I considered him. We were on the phone one day in September, and somehow got to the topic of my bra size, and he said something akin to "I think it's weird we're discussing my girlfriend's bra size." Girlfriend. The word terrified me. Were we together? We hadn't talked about it, but I made it a point to eventually. Soon enough I got texting, and it was time to visit my dad's house for another weekend. No rules, I stayed up late and woke up when I pleased. One Friday night, Graham and I spent the whole night texting, from 6PM to 1AM. I had my portable DVD player showing some Fall Out Boy-related movie, and I was writing some story or other. The conversation wasn't particularly memorable until we started talking about what I was writing about: teen pregnancy. Thinking it'd freak him out but test our relationship, I told him about it. We got into that topic more, and I revealed that all I wanted was to be a young mom; he responded with his dream to be a young dad. We told each other our ideas for baby names, and thus began our plot to be teen parents.
By this time, we talked every day, for the better part of 24 hours. He knew everything about me, from how I used to cut myself to how I'd been dating someone else at the time of our meeting; he was actually flattered by this. The original plan to get pregnant was over spring break of eighth grade (yes, I'm thoroughly aware we were crazy), then married on our one year together. When I told my mom I was in a long distance relationship, she was hesitant, but eventually she supported it. Our first visit since TIP landed during winter break. We counted down to the day, and it wasn't as if my mom and I flew to Raleigh: we had to drive the 10 hours there, which we broke up into half and half every day for driving, making a girls' weekend out of it. I didn't know what to feel: would we still be as passionate about each other as we'd been over the phone? Am I enough? There wasn't a question, though, as we pulled up to his house and I saw him come out the garage door: we started walking towards each other, and halfway through I broke into a full-out run, ending in a tight, "never let me go" hug. It felt right, perfect. I met his parents, who I liked and I believe liked me, and before the remainder of the day we had together we went on a walk, he and I. We were determined to make love at his "happy place" by Lake Johnson, but the whole time we tried to get there, we couldn't stop making out; our first french kisses. We were close to having me undressed when we realized we had to get back to catch a movie with my mom. For our combined Christmas-6 month gift, he gave me a necklace with two hearts linked together, and I gave him a white dress shirt and a few mix CDs I made. When we left, I cried, the first time in a terribly long time. I knew then I was absolutely head over heels.
Following our disappointment at not being able to conceive was Valentine's Day: I sent him candles, since he liked them, and I received chocolate truffles, a silk flower wreath in the shape of a heart, and a beautifully written card, most of which he wrote himself. We made a vow then that we'd spend the next Valentine's Day together (more on that in the next part). Then we planned for spring break, since we shared the same days off from school. He'd be driving with his dad down to Florida, and I was ecstatic to have them there. They were to meet my father and grandmother, not to mention the rest of my family. He was only staying for a couple or three days, but it was better than the 24 hours we had in Raleigh. We went even further in our relationship: he felt me up, and I gave him a handjob over his pants. His mother made a beautiful stained glass piece of a rose, which Graham gave to me (I still have it hanging in my room).
During this time, I was in a band at a local music lessons store as the only girl. Both the drummer and bassist had crushes on me, and being in a committed relationship I wasn't interested in doing anything. However, I was absolutely intrigued. My being the singer/rhythm guitarist in this mostly-boys band caused strain in my relationship with Graham, but we were fine. For awhile.
As we planned for our one-year together at TIP, I got really involved in the band. Drummer Weston was thoroughly annoying, as was our guitarist, and so bassist Mitchell (yes, THAT Mitchell) and I really bonded. But we went to where we shouldn't have gone, and I regret hurting both Graham and Mitchell the way I did. It caused a brief, shall we say, hiccup in our relationship that we quickly overcame, but he never trusted Mitchell with me again, and being in the band still caused plenty of issues between us. We fought fairly often over AIM, text, phone, and now Skype, courtesy of Graham's dad for Christmas (we both got webcams).
Fast forward to my birthday. I don't remember anything special about it in regards to Graham except that we'd wanted to see each other for both my birthday and dance recital, which didn't work out (until the following year...). All I cared about at that point was wasting time until TIP came around, signifying our one-year anniversary. We were still as child/family crazed as ever, but I was excited about seeing him. For the occasion, I'd written a three-page poem outlining my experience with him (I believe I posted it awhile back?), and I knew he had some kind of surprise for me but I wasn't really sure what. We'd had a few fights months back about me wanting us to get promise rings so that even when we weren't physically together, people would still know we were spoken for, and so I kinda figured that maybe that's what it would be.
So I get to my second year of TIP, with swine flu running rampant, and Graham and I are inseparable. I despised my music history class, because I had been fooled into thinking it wouldn't be about the actual technical side of music. We had our one year the second day of classes, and like the year before we tried to coordinate our evening activity and made sure we spent free time together when possible. On 7/14/09, we were walking around the quad and talking. I'd given him my poem earlier, to which he kissed me and told me he loved it. We kept walking until we were under this huge tree, roots sticking out all over the ground. It was fairly secluded from the other TIPsters but still in the designated areas we were allowed to be. All of a sudden, we're talking about how far we've come in a year and how we had so many hopes for where we want to go in our relationship and he gets down on one knee, pulls a blue box out of his pocket and opens it. Inside is a small but perfectly modest solitaire diamond ring, thin white gold band. And he asks me in this cool, confident voice, like it's the most natural thing he could be saying "Caitlyn Holly, will you marry me?" I hesitate, because I'm torn between jokingly saying no and bursting into euphoric hysteria. I opt in the end to tackle him, carefully, to the ground and kiss him all over before saying yes. I remember how it felt on my finger, like it belonged there. And despite all the hardship of distance that we had faced and how many more issues faced us in the coming future, we were at peace. Tranquil. Happy.
TIP was cut short due to me catching swine flu within the first few days, and I was promptly sent home. Our goodbye for the time was a kiss on the forehead and a hug outside of the room where I was being evaluated for quaranTIP. I wouldn't see him for a few more months.
Cue the start of high school, and what we thought was the countdown to our wedding day of 7/14/2013. Little did we know our perfect world was about to come crashing down around us.
To be continued...
First day of classes before mandatory breakfast, all us TIPsters were outside Davidson College's dorms by the cafeteria. I'd really bonded with my hallmates, and since some of us were in the same class we grouped talking together. I briefly turned away from the conversation and let my eyes wander, and there he was: about fifteen feet away, shoulder-length brown hair, tanned skin, dark blue shirt, tan cargo shorts, kinda chubby but definitely possibly cuddly. This was no simple observation, however: the second I saw him, I felt my heart skip beats, and immediately noticed how nervous I was. Like the creep I was at 13, I couldn't stop staring. I felt like, something was supposed to happen with us, even though I didn't know what. All I was sure of was that I'd never felt that way before. Eventually, my friend Marni noticed, and by the time we gathered together inside for breakfast she'd found out his name: Graham. Throughout the day, I couldn't quit thinking about him or that I really wanted to go to the dance with him the following Saturday, but I was equally terrified of rejection and technically cheating on my boyfriend. He found out my name due to my devious friends, and by the end of the second session of classes following lunch I knew I had to find him. I roomed on the third floor, he in the basement, and together with Marni we set out to find him. I got up the courage to knock on his door, and since we weren't allowed in rooms of the opposite sex he came out in the hall to join me. I awkwardly shook his hand. Time: 7/14/08, 4:46 PM (by his approximation).
"Hi, I'm Luna."
"I'm Graham."
"You know that's not my real name, right?"
"Yeah I kind of figured, but it suits you." -awkward silence-
"So uhm, I was wondering if, uh, you wanted to go to the dance with me on Saturday night."
"Sure."
I didn't have time to find out what "Sure" meant before Marni dragged me up three flights of stairs to make our meeting for dinner on time. Paranoid, I made her find out, and it turns out sure meant yes. Graham and I didn't speak until the following day at free time, when I made my phone calls to family and my boyfriend. Naturally, Jimmy didn't pick up when I called so I left a message. My mom wanted to chat a little, and so I did. Five minutes into it, Graham came outside where I was, and because I wanted to talk with him I hung up on my mother after a hurried good-bye. I caught him before he went back inside. We spent the remaining time walking around outside and talking, about anything and everything. It became a ritual of ours for the rest of the three weeks, to talk or hang out during free time. We also made it a point to coordinate our evening activities together.
Almost four years later, the details are a little hazy, so the rest is a blur. We slow danced, we hugged a lot, held hands, cuddled. We were basically the perfect relationTIP. Our first kiss, his very first kiss, happened when we were standing together in my hallway while we were parting ways for some activity or other. We'd hugged, like we usually do, but then we lingered. We mumbled a few words, and then I leaned in and kissed him. It was sweet and innocent, everything a first kiss should be, and everything I was back then. There were more kisses just like it. We took tango lessons, hung out at reading, and he let me briefly dress him as a girl for transexual day. I was content with someone being here with me for me and not my turbulent past, for not knowing that I had someone else back home. I laughed at his lip sync performance of "Love Shack," and we were close during the last dance of the program. Afterwards, we exchanged grateful phrases of the time together, emails, and phone numbers. Since we lived ten hours apart, I figured we were "over," but would still be friends. We said goodbye that night, kissed sweetly like we usually did, and then I didn't see him. My mom had come to pick me up, and I was gone very early the next day. He called after I'd gone, asking to see me, but we weren't going back.
Over the next month, we talked on the phone some, since I didn't have texting yet, but I was busy trying to make Jimmy care. I falsely told him I felt bad about my so-far fling with Graham, and a bunch of other really desperate things, but 6 months into our relationship he left me for high school. Then Graham and I moved into using AIM to talk, and we never stopped. He quickly became my best friend, or at least that's what I considered him. We were on the phone one day in September, and somehow got to the topic of my bra size, and he said something akin to "I think it's weird we're discussing my girlfriend's bra size." Girlfriend. The word terrified me. Were we together? We hadn't talked about it, but I made it a point to eventually. Soon enough I got texting, and it was time to visit my dad's house for another weekend. No rules, I stayed up late and woke up when I pleased. One Friday night, Graham and I spent the whole night texting, from 6PM to 1AM. I had my portable DVD player showing some Fall Out Boy-related movie, and I was writing some story or other. The conversation wasn't particularly memorable until we started talking about what I was writing about: teen pregnancy. Thinking it'd freak him out but test our relationship, I told him about it. We got into that topic more, and I revealed that all I wanted was to be a young mom; he responded with his dream to be a young dad. We told each other our ideas for baby names, and thus began our plot to be teen parents.
By this time, we talked every day, for the better part of 24 hours. He knew everything about me, from how I used to cut myself to how I'd been dating someone else at the time of our meeting; he was actually flattered by this. The original plan to get pregnant was over spring break of eighth grade (yes, I'm thoroughly aware we were crazy), then married on our one year together. When I told my mom I was in a long distance relationship, she was hesitant, but eventually she supported it. Our first visit since TIP landed during winter break. We counted down to the day, and it wasn't as if my mom and I flew to Raleigh: we had to drive the 10 hours there, which we broke up into half and half every day for driving, making a girls' weekend out of it. I didn't know what to feel: would we still be as passionate about each other as we'd been over the phone? Am I enough? There wasn't a question, though, as we pulled up to his house and I saw him come out the garage door: we started walking towards each other, and halfway through I broke into a full-out run, ending in a tight, "never let me go" hug. It felt right, perfect. I met his parents, who I liked and I believe liked me, and before the remainder of the day we had together we went on a walk, he and I. We were determined to make love at his "happy place" by Lake Johnson, but the whole time we tried to get there, we couldn't stop making out; our first french kisses. We were close to having me undressed when we realized we had to get back to catch a movie with my mom. For our combined Christmas-6 month gift, he gave me a necklace with two hearts linked together, and I gave him a white dress shirt and a few mix CDs I made. When we left, I cried, the first time in a terribly long time. I knew then I was absolutely head over heels.
Following our disappointment at not being able to conceive was Valentine's Day: I sent him candles, since he liked them, and I received chocolate truffles, a silk flower wreath in the shape of a heart, and a beautifully written card, most of which he wrote himself. We made a vow then that we'd spend the next Valentine's Day together (more on that in the next part). Then we planned for spring break, since we shared the same days off from school. He'd be driving with his dad down to Florida, and I was ecstatic to have them there. They were to meet my father and grandmother, not to mention the rest of my family. He was only staying for a couple or three days, but it was better than the 24 hours we had in Raleigh. We went even further in our relationship: he felt me up, and I gave him a handjob over his pants. His mother made a beautiful stained glass piece of a rose, which Graham gave to me (I still have it hanging in my room).
During this time, I was in a band at a local music lessons store as the only girl. Both the drummer and bassist had crushes on me, and being in a committed relationship I wasn't interested in doing anything. However, I was absolutely intrigued. My being the singer/rhythm guitarist in this mostly-boys band caused strain in my relationship with Graham, but we were fine. For awhile.
As we planned for our one-year together at TIP, I got really involved in the band. Drummer Weston was thoroughly annoying, as was our guitarist, and so bassist Mitchell (yes, THAT Mitchell) and I really bonded. But we went to where we shouldn't have gone, and I regret hurting both Graham and Mitchell the way I did. It caused a brief, shall we say, hiccup in our relationship that we quickly overcame, but he never trusted Mitchell with me again, and being in the band still caused plenty of issues between us. We fought fairly often over AIM, text, phone, and now Skype, courtesy of Graham's dad for Christmas (we both got webcams).
Fast forward to my birthday. I don't remember anything special about it in regards to Graham except that we'd wanted to see each other for both my birthday and dance recital, which didn't work out (until the following year...). All I cared about at that point was wasting time until TIP came around, signifying our one-year anniversary. We were still as child/family crazed as ever, but I was excited about seeing him. For the occasion, I'd written a three-page poem outlining my experience with him (I believe I posted it awhile back?), and I knew he had some kind of surprise for me but I wasn't really sure what. We'd had a few fights months back about me wanting us to get promise rings so that even when we weren't physically together, people would still know we were spoken for, and so I kinda figured that maybe that's what it would be.
So I get to my second year of TIP, with swine flu running rampant, and Graham and I are inseparable. I despised my music history class, because I had been fooled into thinking it wouldn't be about the actual technical side of music. We had our one year the second day of classes, and like the year before we tried to coordinate our evening activity and made sure we spent free time together when possible. On 7/14/09, we were walking around the quad and talking. I'd given him my poem earlier, to which he kissed me and told me he loved it. We kept walking until we were under this huge tree, roots sticking out all over the ground. It was fairly secluded from the other TIPsters but still in the designated areas we were allowed to be. All of a sudden, we're talking about how far we've come in a year and how we had so many hopes for where we want to go in our relationship and he gets down on one knee, pulls a blue box out of his pocket and opens it. Inside is a small but perfectly modest solitaire diamond ring, thin white gold band. And he asks me in this cool, confident voice, like it's the most natural thing he could be saying "Caitlyn Holly, will you marry me?" I hesitate, because I'm torn between jokingly saying no and bursting into euphoric hysteria. I opt in the end to tackle him, carefully, to the ground and kiss him all over before saying yes. I remember how it felt on my finger, like it belonged there. And despite all the hardship of distance that we had faced and how many more issues faced us in the coming future, we were at peace. Tranquil. Happy.
TIP was cut short due to me catching swine flu within the first few days, and I was promptly sent home. Our goodbye for the time was a kiss on the forehead and a hug outside of the room where I was being evaluated for quaranTIP. I wouldn't see him for a few more months.
Cue the start of high school, and what we thought was the countdown to our wedding day of 7/14/2013. Little did we know our perfect world was about to come crashing down around us.
To be continued...
Sunday, April 8, 2012
This is what happens when the past pops up.
I went out to dinner with TJ and his family last night, and on the way back to his house I checked my phone, like I usually do. On Facebook, I check my notifications, and boy was I surprised to see this: "Mitch Watson has poked you."
I haven't heard from him in over a year. The last time we talked, it was because I initiated the conversation, since Chels had told me he asked her about me. Not to mention I was an emotional wreck. We texted basically all New Year's Day, well into the night until roughly 3 or so in the morning. Then it kind of faded away, because our relationship in 2010 never was smooth because he wanted me and I wanted Graham, though I was attracted to Mitch somewhat. We were Facebook friends for awhile, liked each other's statuses in a war, and then either I unfriended him or he unfriended me in late January. Either way, we lost touch.
Looking back, I totally toyed with the poor kid, for reasons I'm still not completely sure of. Maybe when Graham toyed with me all those months, I finally got a taste of my own medicine. I'd take it back if I could. I mean, I'm sure he's over it by now, considering a brief Facebook check shows him with a girlfriend dating back to at least the 2012 New Year. Maybe I was lonely. Maybe I was experimenting with the flirty side of my personality to see if it worked, which it did. Regardless, it wasn't right.
I still have the letter he wrote me a really, really long time ago in this small wooden lock box that keeps basically everything from past relationships (sans Graham) or just cute little things that mean something to me. As heartfelt as it was, he deserved so much better. I see that now. Then again, I haven't really thought about it for awhile.
While it was just a few "pokes," I guess it'd be nice to catch up one of these days. Maybe I'll grow the balls to apologize, because I am sorry.
It's Easter, and I've healed enough to eat chocolate without the motion of chewing to hurt too badly. Thus far, I've eaten Pizza Hut cheese personal pan, Chips Ahoy, Oreos, ice cream with peanut butter, and a cheese quesadilla. Still working on chicken tenders, though. School tomorrow. Time flies.
Love,
Caitlyn
I haven't heard from him in over a year. The last time we talked, it was because I initiated the conversation, since Chels had told me he asked her about me. Not to mention I was an emotional wreck. We texted basically all New Year's Day, well into the night until roughly 3 or so in the morning. Then it kind of faded away, because our relationship in 2010 never was smooth because he wanted me and I wanted Graham, though I was attracted to Mitch somewhat. We were Facebook friends for awhile, liked each other's statuses in a war, and then either I unfriended him or he unfriended me in late January. Either way, we lost touch.
Looking back, I totally toyed with the poor kid, for reasons I'm still not completely sure of. Maybe when Graham toyed with me all those months, I finally got a taste of my own medicine. I'd take it back if I could. I mean, I'm sure he's over it by now, considering a brief Facebook check shows him with a girlfriend dating back to at least the 2012 New Year. Maybe I was lonely. Maybe I was experimenting with the flirty side of my personality to see if it worked, which it did. Regardless, it wasn't right.
I still have the letter he wrote me a really, really long time ago in this small wooden lock box that keeps basically everything from past relationships (sans Graham) or just cute little things that mean something to me. As heartfelt as it was, he deserved so much better. I see that now. Then again, I haven't really thought about it for awhile.
While it was just a few "pokes," I guess it'd be nice to catch up one of these days. Maybe I'll grow the balls to apologize, because I am sorry.
It's Easter, and I've healed enough to eat chocolate without the motion of chewing to hurt too badly. Thus far, I've eaten Pizza Hut cheese personal pan, Chips Ahoy, Oreos, ice cream with peanut butter, and a cheese quesadilla. Still working on chicken tenders, though. School tomorrow. Time flies.
Love,
Caitlyn
Thursday, April 5, 2012
"Where Is My Mind?"
Who are you? Where am I? What do I feel?
Sometimes I like to think that I can still feel you.
Crazy. It's been slung one too many times. And I am, crazy.
How did we get here? Where did you go? Why did you do this?
Because you always enjoyed running from me.
Hurt. Because I hurt you. And a million times over, I'm sorry.
Why are you acting this way? Why are you in denial?
Because she's there and can give you all the things that I never could.
Easy. Because it's easier to live a life in denial than accept the truth. And me, you know I know the truth.
How come you won't accept it? How could we come so far?
Because you denied me any chance to be in your life, after you wormed your way back into mine.
Time. Time always was and always will be the enemy. But I can't seem to forget.
Don't you know what I hear?
If I think really hard, "I love you."
Screaming. Laughing. Tears. Promises. Lies. Plans. Confessions. I remember everything; why don't you?
Because despite what you say and what you think, I've come out better. Instead of trying to bury you with sex and other people and lies and yelling and anger, I mourned and took my time and got truly BETTER. That's why I can say that I know I won't do anything if I ever see you again, because I moved on.
In another life, we could be together. If I had never made those mistakes, if you'd been more mature, if I moved there, if you moved here. All that doubt leaves room for "what if," and that's what scares you both to death.
Burying me alive can only make room for me to haunt you.
Crazy. It's been slung one too many times. And I am, crazy.
How did we get here? Where did you go? Why did you do this?
Hurt. Because I hurt you. And a million times over, I'm sorry.
Why are you acting this way? Why are you in denial?
Easy. Because it's easier to live a life in denial than accept the truth. And me, you know I know the truth.
How come you won't accept it? How could we come so far?
Time. Time always was and always will be the enemy. But I can't seem to forget.
Don't you know what I hear?
Screaming. Laughing. Tears. Promises. Lies. Plans. Confessions. I remember everything; why don't you?
Because despite what you say and what you think, I've come out better. Instead of trying to bury you with sex and other people and lies and yelling and anger, I mourned and took my time and got truly BETTER. That's why I can say that I know I won't do anything if I ever see you again, because I moved on.
Burying me alive can only make room for me to haunt you.
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
Miss Brightside
Sitting here on my couch next to this girl, and that's enough to inspire me to write all this. Just sitting on the same couch at the same time reminds me of all the utter crap we've gone through, how far we've come as best friends.
I met her in seventh grade. She came in halfway through the year. She was in my math class, and she was in the gifted program. I thought she was kinda weird. Our first actual encounter was when I asked if something was wrong, because she was crying, and she yelled at me to go away. Didn't really interact until the following year in eighth grade. I was wrapped up with maintaining my new relationship with Graham, but Chelsi and I would walk over to the high school together, along with two other girls, for math class, since we were in geometry. She buddied up more with the other girl, Megan, whereas I was with the "leftover" Sam. There was constant drama between Megan and Sam, so Chels and I never really talked. Not until Megan moved.
The three of us became best friends: Sam, Chelsi, and me, though Chels and I got closer. We shared a special bond because of our mutual messed-up pasts and presents: cutting, depression, emotional distress. We became especially closer after she invited me to her fourteenth birthday, and then after that we were basically inseparable. She was there for me when I had my long-distance woes, and I was there for her for the middle school crushes and the Michael Jacobs heartache. We were always there for each other, and when Sam got a boyfriend and became obsessive with him, we could only turn more into each other as friends. Every sleepover was basically the two of us, because Sam was always talking to Luis. We were continuously getting into joint arguments and interventions with Sam from the very end of eighth grade to the middle of the following summer when I went to TIP for the second time.
Cue freshman year. I wasn't friends with Sam anymore at all, but Chels had managed to salvage their relationship, and I didn't approve. Within the first week, we were fighting, actually slinging insults and ignoring each other. I tweeted passive-aggressive things about her so that she would read them. I distinctly remember one in particular: "The return isn't sweet. Voice like nails on chalkboard." We'd always make up, though, within about a week. The longest we've ever gone without talking is roughly a month or so, however. The bickering never ended, not until Sam dropped out of IB. But then there was Sherron (see "Our Very Own Shay-la" for more), who no one could stand, especially me and Chels, but Chelsi couldn't voice her opinion to Sherron's face. Because I'm very blunt, this utterly infuriated me, beyond the point of her and Sam. Then Sherron got committed, and we were close again. We didn't fight again for a really long time, not even over something petty and stupid.
Then the summer. She skipped my fifteenth birthday to be with Sam for hers, since our birthdays are so close, and then skipped another date we had to have sex with her boyfriend. We fought a lot after that. But then Graham and I broke up in sophomore year, and I was essentially comatose. I wasn't talking to anyone except him for at least a couple months. I tried to talk, but I always ended in tears. I was officially and utterly broken. But Chelsi was there. She talked with me and got my mind off of things when I was literally about to be over the edge, and she didn't even realize it. We were there for each other when we'd both been in that suicidal place at the same time. She was my rock; she still is. And I don't say that enough. We were really good the rest of that year, and the rest of that summer. Closer than we'd been in awhile. Came out the other side okay.
The beginning of this year, junior year, started off shaky. For one reason or another, I decided to ignore her. No fighting, no disagreement. Then all of a sudden we'd be talking again. That happened for a few months. Then she left good-guy Lucas for Anthony, a guy I had my suspicions about. As her best friend, I'm always looking out for her. Then we weren't talking again, and she decided to tell her boyfriend something out of anger. He told it to one of his friends, and then that kid spread it the entire IB junior class. It was miserable (see "Rumor Has It"). In fairness, I was telling Lucas, who she was still kind of toying with at the time, to drop her because I didn't believe it was right. We didn't talk from Thanksgiving until well into January. But then we made up somehow. We had one slight misgiving in between, but now we're back to normal.
I've missed my best friend, and in all the time we've been apart I've evaluated how much I need her. We're each other's other half, as far as friendship goes. As much as we get mad and fight, it only accentuates our care and passion in our relationship. We're only human, nothing perfect. We've gotten into disagreements, and I'm sure there will be plenty more. I don't quite remember why she fell in love with The Killers' "Mr. Brightside," but she started identifying with "Miss Brightside" (her Twitter username involves it), and it's stuck with her ever since, hence the title.
Chelsi is one of those friends who you can see yourself still being close with after high school and through college, the kind of friend you name godmother of your children in case you and your spouse die. She's the maid of honor, the girl people are lucky to know, if they stick around to get to know her enough to understand her. She's the girl any guy would be lucky to have to call theirs, if they would just mature and meet her so they can be worthy. Throughout all of the fighting and lies and secrecy and ignorance and immaturity, I love my best friend Chelsi Erin.
Love,
Caitlyn
I met her in seventh grade. She came in halfway through the year. She was in my math class, and she was in the gifted program. I thought she was kinda weird. Our first actual encounter was when I asked if something was wrong, because she was crying, and she yelled at me to go away. Didn't really interact until the following year in eighth grade. I was wrapped up with maintaining my new relationship with Graham, but Chelsi and I would walk over to the high school together, along with two other girls, for math class, since we were in geometry. She buddied up more with the other girl, Megan, whereas I was with the "leftover" Sam. There was constant drama between Megan and Sam, so Chels and I never really talked. Not until Megan moved.
The three of us became best friends: Sam, Chelsi, and me, though Chels and I got closer. We shared a special bond because of our mutual messed-up pasts and presents: cutting, depression, emotional distress. We became especially closer after she invited me to her fourteenth birthday, and then after that we were basically inseparable. She was there for me when I had my long-distance woes, and I was there for her for the middle school crushes and the Michael Jacobs heartache. We were always there for each other, and when Sam got a boyfriend and became obsessive with him, we could only turn more into each other as friends. Every sleepover was basically the two of us, because Sam was always talking to Luis. We were continuously getting into joint arguments and interventions with Sam from the very end of eighth grade to the middle of the following summer when I went to TIP for the second time.
Cue freshman year. I wasn't friends with Sam anymore at all, but Chels had managed to salvage their relationship, and I didn't approve. Within the first week, we were fighting, actually slinging insults and ignoring each other. I tweeted passive-aggressive things about her so that she would read them. I distinctly remember one in particular: "The return isn't sweet. Voice like nails on chalkboard." We'd always make up, though, within about a week. The longest we've ever gone without talking is roughly a month or so, however. The bickering never ended, not until Sam dropped out of IB. But then there was Sherron (see "Our Very Own Shay-la" for more), who no one could stand, especially me and Chels, but Chelsi couldn't voice her opinion to Sherron's face. Because I'm very blunt, this utterly infuriated me, beyond the point of her and Sam. Then Sherron got committed, and we were close again. We didn't fight again for a really long time, not even over something petty and stupid.
Then the summer. She skipped my fifteenth birthday to be with Sam for hers, since our birthdays are so close, and then skipped another date we had to have sex with her boyfriend. We fought a lot after that. But then Graham and I broke up in sophomore year, and I was essentially comatose. I wasn't talking to anyone except him for at least a couple months. I tried to talk, but I always ended in tears. I was officially and utterly broken. But Chelsi was there. She talked with me and got my mind off of things when I was literally about to be over the edge, and she didn't even realize it. We were there for each other when we'd both been in that suicidal place at the same time. She was my rock; she still is. And I don't say that enough. We were really good the rest of that year, and the rest of that summer. Closer than we'd been in awhile. Came out the other side okay.
The beginning of this year, junior year, started off shaky. For one reason or another, I decided to ignore her. No fighting, no disagreement. Then all of a sudden we'd be talking again. That happened for a few months. Then she left good-guy Lucas for Anthony, a guy I had my suspicions about. As her best friend, I'm always looking out for her. Then we weren't talking again, and she decided to tell her boyfriend something out of anger. He told it to one of his friends, and then that kid spread it the entire IB junior class. It was miserable (see "Rumor Has It"). In fairness, I was telling Lucas, who she was still kind of toying with at the time, to drop her because I didn't believe it was right. We didn't talk from Thanksgiving until well into January. But then we made up somehow. We had one slight misgiving in between, but now we're back to normal.
I've missed my best friend, and in all the time we've been apart I've evaluated how much I need her. We're each other's other half, as far as friendship goes. As much as we get mad and fight, it only accentuates our care and passion in our relationship. We're only human, nothing perfect. We've gotten into disagreements, and I'm sure there will be plenty more. I don't quite remember why she fell in love with The Killers' "Mr. Brightside," but she started identifying with "Miss Brightside" (her Twitter username involves it), and it's stuck with her ever since, hence the title.
Chelsi is one of those friends who you can see yourself still being close with after high school and through college, the kind of friend you name godmother of your children in case you and your spouse die. She's the maid of honor, the girl people are lucky to know, if they stick around to get to know her enough to understand her. She's the girl any guy would be lucky to have to call theirs, if they would just mature and meet her so they can be worthy. Throughout all of the fighting and lies and secrecy and ignorance and immaturity, I love my best friend Chelsi Erin.
Love,
Caitlyn
Update From Recovery
Today is Day 8 of surgery recovering. I'm off of the hydrocodone and switched to Tylenol for the pain, and I go to the doctor tomorrow. It's been slow-going, and it's exhausting, being unable to talk. Mentally, I'm going stir-crazy from being in this house, on this couch for eight days straight. I've had visitors, who I am eternally grateful for, but I need out of here soon! My cravings have involved anything involving gooey cheese, which I can't eat because of a) the chewing, b) it's hot, and c) it's sticky. In fact, I have a list of my cravings, which I intend to gorge and binge on the second I'm approved to do so; at the top is a cheese quesadilla from Vallarta's.
I had so many plans for what I'd be doing while in recovery, mostly like blogging or writing, but the medication has put me in such a tired and lazy state that it takes most of my energy into watching something remotely witty on tv. But today I must do homework, because there's a paper due Friday, not to mention the pile of work I have waiting for me for the three days of school I missed for surgery; thank God I'm on spring break. It's so beautiful outside, and I want to get out there and soak up the sun and get some kind of tan, but I can't handle the heat right now. Can't afford to get dehydrated.
Still waiting for my TOC at Rochester decision. Should be any day now, apparently. The university keeps messing with me by sending information packets about why I should choose Rochester as my future. I'm up to my ears! I'm getting to the point where I'm going to email or call or something and say "Hey, look, I'm already set on applying to Rochester and you're my top choice anyway providing I get funding, so stop sending me this useless paper packets about things I already know and send my summer decision letter already!" Yeah, I'm a tad frustrated. And a bit impatient.
I turn seventeen in two months. No plans yet. I want to go to Universal for the day with TJ, but I highly doubt that that's going to fly by my mom well. I'd ask for a two-day thing where she comes with us and we get two rooms, one for her and me and one for TJ, but any extra money would go into me going to Rochester, so there goes that plan. No other ideas, though. I've dreamed up my sixteenth and seventeenth birthdays since I was little: flying to New York City or Chicago or LA for the weekend, going shopping, seeing the sights. The week after my birthday, I'm heading to the Borden family reunion in California, so that's fun. I really love my family, or at least that side. They annoy me less, because I identify with them more.
Prom is next weekend. Everything has been worked out except my hair, the second-most-important part of prom. Because of this whole liquids-only diet, basically, for recovery, I've lost roughly six pounds in a week, and recovery isn't even over yet. I don't have the most self-confidence in the world, but I think I'm going to look at least halfway decent.
Still need to blog about Chels and Graham. Searching for the time. Kinda don't want to do it. It's going to take awhile!
Okay, it's medicine time again, and I need to prepare for my study date with Chels. Anyone who's reading: please for the love of God eat some cheese pizza and send me a picture, either mention me on Twitter with it or email it. I don't care. Just do it. Please?
Love,
Caitlyn
I had so many plans for what I'd be doing while in recovery, mostly like blogging or writing, but the medication has put me in such a tired and lazy state that it takes most of my energy into watching something remotely witty on tv. But today I must do homework, because there's a paper due Friday, not to mention the pile of work I have waiting for me for the three days of school I missed for surgery; thank God I'm on spring break. It's so beautiful outside, and I want to get out there and soak up the sun and get some kind of tan, but I can't handle the heat right now. Can't afford to get dehydrated.
Still waiting for my TOC at Rochester decision. Should be any day now, apparently. The university keeps messing with me by sending information packets about why I should choose Rochester as my future. I'm up to my ears! I'm getting to the point where I'm going to email or call or something and say "Hey, look, I'm already set on applying to Rochester and you're my top choice anyway providing I get funding, so stop sending me this useless paper packets about things I already know and send my summer decision letter already!" Yeah, I'm a tad frustrated. And a bit impatient.
I turn seventeen in two months. No plans yet. I want to go to Universal for the day with TJ, but I highly doubt that that's going to fly by my mom well. I'd ask for a two-day thing where she comes with us and we get two rooms, one for her and me and one for TJ, but any extra money would go into me going to Rochester, so there goes that plan. No other ideas, though. I've dreamed up my sixteenth and seventeenth birthdays since I was little: flying to New York City or Chicago or LA for the weekend, going shopping, seeing the sights. The week after my birthday, I'm heading to the Borden family reunion in California, so that's fun. I really love my family, or at least that side. They annoy me less, because I identify with them more.
Prom is next weekend. Everything has been worked out except my hair, the second-most-important part of prom. Because of this whole liquids-only diet, basically, for recovery, I've lost roughly six pounds in a week, and recovery isn't even over yet. I don't have the most self-confidence in the world, but I think I'm going to look at least halfway decent.
Still need to blog about Chels and Graham. Searching for the time. Kinda don't want to do it. It's going to take awhile!
Okay, it's medicine time again, and I need to prepare for my study date with Chels. Anyone who's reading: please for the love of God eat some cheese pizza and send me a picture, either mention me on Twitter with it or email it. I don't care. Just do it. Please?
Love,
Caitlyn
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