Test Jitters

So this morning I had to take a test. But not a normal kind of test. It was a test that would measure 28 different things, including attention, processing speed, and impulse control. What made me nervous was not just the test itself, but was the fact that it was being used to test how well the new meds are working. I feel like the meds are working, but then I thought that too, sort of, about the old meds and guess what? They did nothing.

It's not just that. I worry that they might actually be working but I might screw up on the test. What if I'm just not fast enough? What if the test is just too hard? All these things get me down. I feel like it's my fault the other medication wasn't working, and that I wasn't working up to my full potential. I think I would have felt disheartened if I found out the new meds weren't working either.

The good news is the new meds are working as well as can be expected, which is pretty darn good. The bad news is... well there is no bad news, at least not on this front. But now I feel silly for putting myself through a pointless bought of midnight worry, all for nothing.

Anxiety Like Crazy

I am really worried about my weight these days. Especially since I have access to a scale for the first time in a couple of months and lets just say the results are less than stellar. When I came home and weighed myself I just wanted to die. And I mean that in the literal sense. I've gained some weight and I'm not happy about it.

Over this Christmas break I've been careful about what I eat, but I feel like my behavior is out of control. For one thing I weigh myself daily, or several times a day. I know that's not good since weight can fluctuate daily, but I can't help myself. I am alternatively starving myself, or engaging in purging behaviour when I do eat.

I think my mother suspects something. I sometimes turn on the water when I'm doing it and my parents noticed the water running. My mom asked me what I was doing up there. I lied and told her I was washing my hands. I can tell she didn't believe becuase she said it doesn't take that long to wash your hands. I lied to her again and says it does if the smell won't come off. She didn't say anything to that but I don't think she believed me.

And I weighed myself not to long ago and the results made me want to cry. I know I should stop doing this to myself, but I can't help it no matter how hard I try. It's part of the disease. A part of me knows that. But I just don't know what to do anymore. What I really need is my good friend, the only one who knows about it...

wait that's not true. Another friend knows about it. I told her about it to try and make her feel better about herself. I don't think it worked because I'm just not that great at explaining these things to other people. Maybe I am in the wrong field.

Whatever, I am just trying to get by day by day. Any day when I don't wish I were dead is a good day in my books. Sometimes those days seem few and far between.

It doesn't help that I am trying so hard not to worry my mother. She told me before how she hasn't had a proper nights sleep in years because she's too busy worrying about us. I feel bad for making her worry. But in my effort to stop her worries I think I might be harming myself. I'm not getting the support I need, so I end up feeling like I'm drowning with no one to turn to. With things going the way they are, the future looks bleak indeed.

Ongoing Tactile Hallucination?

Now I can tell I am sleep deprived.

I was studying last night and hadn't gotten much sleep this past week. As I was sleeping I was listening to music. I kept trying to pull the headphones out of my ears, even though I wasn't wearing headphones. I passed it off as the result of having spent way too much time listening to music through my headphones.

Earlier today I was writing an exam. The whole time I felt like my iPod headphones were still in my ears. And then the same sort of sensation extended to my glasses when I took them off during the exam. I kept trying to reach up and adjust glasses that weren't there.

It actually gets worse though. Because these "phantom headphones" Behaved as if they were plugged into my computer. Sometimes I could hear the static from my friends mic. Other times I could hear him talking. Sometimes it was just music or this buzzing sound. But it was an incredibly weird experience to say the least.

Apparently Sociology Bores Me

Clearly my mind is trying to tell me something. I can spend hours at a time studying for my Research Methods course even though it's not exactly the most interesting course in the world. But as soon as I start studying for Sociology somehow everything else in the world becomes more important.


I also predict that the short answer question I am struggling with will undoubtedly appear on the exam tomorrow. I mean there is already a 25 % chance that it will appear on the exam, and a murphy's law sort of situation undoubtedly makes it inevitable.

And for some reason right now I have a crazy urge to read a Criminal Minds fic... but since there are no good ones right now I may just have to right one. Don't know how tat works. But alas I must get back to studying since I have two exams tommorow and I really want to be ready and not have to spend all night studying. Becuase I still have to do a bunch of studying for my psychopathology class too.

Wish me luck.

Oh and yesterday I was studying for my psychopathology class with my friend and there was something about Tardiff Disconessia (no idea how you spell that). I was like "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. I know this one" and not only answered the question right (to be fair it was mutiple choice), but went on to explain how I knew what it was not from the textbook but from an episode of Criminal Minds. And then went into a rant explaining the Episode (Derailed). I think she may think I'm slightly crazy now.

Another Criminal Minds Dream

I had another criminal minds dream. It was another one of those ones where I wasn't actually in my dream.

It started off with Reid receiving a weird letter written by Hotch... some sort of threat. And he remembered a similar letter from the past that Strauss had been behind. So he thought maybe Strauss was behind this letter. But Hotch tells Reid it wasn't anything serious and to just forget about it.

Despite what Hotch says Reid is sitting there fretting over the letter. Then he finds a note. He picks it up and the note reads:
I'm sorry for this

- Hotch

He says "Sorry for what?" out loud. And then Hotch who has snuck up behind him, says "For this" and jabs a needle full of clear liquid into Reid's neck and injects him with what was in the needle. Reid falls to the floor unconcious.

When Reid wakes up he's strapped to an examination table. There is a scientist in a white lab coat in front of him, preparing to do some sort of experiment that had to do with tranplanting parts of Reid's brain. I don't know what the experiment was exactly but it clearly had to do with killing Reid and performing experiments with his brain. That made me sad :(

Things you Should Have Done that you didn't do?

Have you ever regretted something you should have done but didn't do? I recently have. I was vacuuming on Monday and I always have to unplug the fridge so it doesn't come on when I am vacuuming and blow a fuse (yay for student housing). Well this time I forgot to plug it back in afterwards. I didn't even realize it was unplugged till a day and a half later when I wondered why the dip I had left in the fridge for 3 hours wasn't cold yet. I majorly regret this becuase the freezer thawed out and now I don't trust those microwave dinnres. Not that I could cook them anyways becuase cardboard containers don't do so well when they get wet. Just a fact.

Yet Another Criminal Minds Dream

So I had a weird Criminal minds dream the other night... well day rather. The whole experience was rather weird since I was getting "details" that were pretty specific, and the whole thing left me really confused. For one thing it felt like I was watching an episode of Criminal minds. And in it some of the finer details were screwed up... it was like an alternate universe.

In this Universe.... Jack and Reid were brothers. They also have a random unknown sister who is sort of annoying. Hotch was still Jack's dad so I guess that would have made him Reid's dad as well. Hayley was there too. The basic scenario was that Reid was visiting "home" for the Holidays. They were having a get together with extended family, and friends. Everyone was gathered outside except for Hotch, Hayley, Jack and Reid, who were inside. Despite the fact that it was around Christmas in the dream, there was no snow outside.... probably a testament to the fact that no matter the time of year, the team never encounters snow.

Anyways, Reid is sitting on the couch with his sister watching tv. For some reason they seem to be watching an episode of Criminal minds. In the episode of Criminal minds, it's at the very end of the show, and it seems like something bad had happened to Reid, and Jack was infected with some sort of Disease from a cut during an attack. We don't actually here this directly but it is implied from a phone call. We see a set of family potraits, and Both Reid and Jack's portraits are smashed.

Reid's sister walks away, and says something Bitchy. For some reason, the episode on tv is "Rewound" too see what led to this, only now it seems like the episode has changed. Reid has a strange premonition, and calls Jack over to him, asking how his little bro is. He holds him close, and asks "You want to watch your brothers show with him?" (indicating the Criminal minds epiosde he was watching). All of a sudden there is a commotion outside in the yard. A gang of tough looking guys approaches. Instinctively, Reid knows they are after Jack, and sends him into the other room, a long with a little girl who suddenly appears.

The gang terrorizes the people outside momentarily before entering the House. The TV is still playing in the background. Reid stands up but the gang surrounds him. They are all carrying knives. Reid tries to reach for his gun, but one of the gang members grabs it. One of the other gang members (not the same one who grabbed the gun), grabs his arms and pins them behind him. Another dude punches him in the gut, and the guys who aren't holding him walk into the next room, where they find Jack. Reid gets away from the men, and hits rewind on the remote, and suddenly the Criminal minds episode on the TV changes to another alternate ending.

The scene in the room changes. The guys are gone, and Jack is still sitting there with Reid. This time Reid knows what is going on for sure. He gets Jack and the litttle girl to hide under the couch (which is sort of like a bed. I'm not quite sure how this works). The gang members come back, and terrorize the people outside. When Reid sees them he runs around searching for his gun, but it's nowhere to be found. The gang members enter the house, this time holding both guns and knives. They search around, and Jack and the girl crawl out from under the couch and run into the next room. Reid follows them. As the gang members enter the room, Reid grabs his gun from somewhere, and starts shooting them one by one. For some reason one of the gang members looks like Rossi. He gets them all and Jack and the girl is safe. Somehow Reid himself is safe despite the gang memebers having automatic weapons.

later I had another dream where I got some more information. Apparently the reason Reid was part of Hotch's family was becuase he was actually undercover to protect Jack. I'm not quite sure where Hotch and Hayley ended up during this scenario, nor the sister. They sort of dissapeared into the background once the attakc happened.

It's funny but I sort of see the makings of a weird fan fiction in this dream, if I can work out some of the unexplainable kinks. And the weird part is, that during this dream I had sort of a writer's view of what was going on. I was getting the characters motivations, information I shouldn't have from what I was seeing, occasionally I got a first person view of the situation (like when Reid was shooting the bad guys) so I guess maybe my brain was trying to tell me something. The only quesiton is... should I listen?

Social Aspects Reflected in "Glee"

The show Glee does a fairly accurate potrayal of teenage group dynamics. The group will band together when threatened by an outside force, or when individuals important to the group's distress are in trouble - for example when the blog kid announced to the whole school that Quinn was pregnant with Finn's baby, and the whole club showed their support. But it also demonstrates that while the group show's friendship, individuals within the group are not necessarily friends. A prime example of this is when Rachel said "I thought we were friends" and Kurt replied "Who said we were friends". Another example would be when Rachel asked Puck if they could still be friends and Puck replied that they weren't friends before.

Similarily, while the individuals bond in the group, they still retain outside ties that may provide them with a stronger identity, than that as a member of Glee Club. The cheerleeders all appear to be enjoying themselves when performing or during impromptu jam sessions. Quinn even admitted that Glee Club was important to her. Yet she and the other cheerleaders continue to spy for Sue Sylvestra and to do her "dirty work". This shows that their identity as a cheerleader is stronger than their identity as a Glee Kid. However now that Quinn is no longer a member of the Cheerios, it will be interesting to see how this effects her identity as a Glee Kid. The football players however...for the most part, have at one point renounced their identities as football players in order to retain their identities as Glee Kids. This shows that for whatever reason, the football players have a stronger tie to their identies as Glee kids than the cheerleaders do... perhaps because Mr. Shue is actually a stronger male authority figure for them then Ken is. While Ken is supposedly an athlete and Mr. Shue is a singer, it is Mr. Shue who is married, and lusted after by Ken's girlfriend, showing him to be the more dominant male, which makes him a stronger roll model for the young football players who see themselves as studs.

Another social issue raised by Glee is the double standard. The men are held to higher standards than the woman, althought the normal stereotypes are reversed. This double standard can be seen in the fact that Quinn looks upset when Finn tells her he wasn't completely honest about what he was doing that Friday night becuase he was actually over at Rachel's house even though nothing happened. However Quinn herself had been trying to use Rachel to distract Quinn so that she could have some time to experiment with Puck, and in fact had been dishonest about what she was doing (babysitting wasn't all she was doing). On top of that, Quinn had been lying the whole time about who the father was since she had in fact broken her chastity vow with Puck, who is the real father. Another aspect of this double standard, is Quinn's insistance that Finn get a job and pay for the pre-natal costs, while she refuses to do anything to pay for them herself, despite the fact that the baby is not even his. Meanwhile she refuses to accept any help from Puck.

Puck in himsefl is an oddity. He is the typical stud... looking for that one thing all teenage male's supposedly want. He is also what is reffered to as a "cub" spending time with "kougars". Meanwhile though, he retains some of his jewish identity, as seen by his desire to date Rachel simply becuase she was a good jewish girl. However some of his morals seems to be strued, so that his jewish identity is in constant conflict with his own self-identification as a "Stud".

You Made Me Bleed My Own Blood

There was blood on my hands again today. I tried to look where it came from but I couldn't see any blood at the back of my throat. That doesn't mean much. Either the blood is from further down, or quite possibly the blood could be from my air passage. I may have accidentally scratched it with a nail when I was too forceful. My head hurts, my stomach hurts, my throat hurts. And still I feel like I can't stop. A little blood is never enough to make me stop, unless I feel like the anxiety has gone away enough that I can last. The time I really scratched up the back of my throat, I kept going even after I saw blood. It wasn't until the actual pain from the scratch hit me that I stopped. And even then I did try to continue but it just hurt to much. I am weak. That's the reason I can't stop, the reason I go on and on. There's a patch of skin on my hand that is ugly and will probably scar. It's from rubbing against on of my teeth... most likely my messed up eye tooth. It's gotten calassed so it doens't even hurt any more. That very fact makes me sad, for it shows me just how bad it's gotten. And yet still I continue.

I am weak


The title of this post is in reference to a line from a movie or show I don't really remember. And in reflection it's not really appropriate for the content but since I couldn't think of anything better I stuck with it.

Home Trouble

I always have the hardest time at home... the hardest time getting along with my family. I get... aggressive at times. I've come to realize that I never really gotten over their failure to protect me. They knew what my older brother was doing to me.... they knew becuase I told them. Sure they gave me the usual advice on how to protect myself... and they always talked about doing things like making it so we were never home alone together, or putting a lock on the door, but they never got around to doing it. I once told them about a dream that I woke up and he was in my room with a flashlight, and I was scared and he shushed me... what I never told them was that it wasn't a dream. I don't know what he was planning in my room that night, he never did anything, but somehow I don't want to know.

One of the worst memories I had came back to me recently... I had almost forgotten about the incident, even though I never forgot about the aftermath. It was one of the worst experiences of my life. I was down in my brother's room, even though I don't remember why I was down there in the first place. Nor do I remember who was home at the time. What I do remember was his hand covering my mouth so no one could hear me scream...

The pain, the fear.... I've spent my life wishing I could just forget. I've even tried to forget, drowning everything in a bottle of Vodka. A lot of good that did me, since I ended up turning to him when I got sick. And not before he had the chance to hurt me again. I'm somewhat glad that the effects of alcoholic blackouts blocks out almost everything except bits and pieces... what I can't block out was what he told me the next day. I think his words may haunt me forever.

In the Depths of Depression

Back in January of '09, I went through a bout of depression. I was stressed out from my co-op job, and my less than stellar performance in my classes the previous semester. Add on top of that the fact that I was thoroughly convinced I would never be able to take care of myself properly (since sometimes I forget to take care of my basic necessities) and it was a recipe for disaster. During that time period I came so close to ending it all. I thought about suicide constantly. I broke down crying at work. It was such a horrible experience. Every day I went to bed panicking because I hadn't done it earlier in the day and it was too late by that time (since I figured the easiest way to do it would be through poisoning but the chemicals I needed were kept in the basement and my brother was always down there at night). I felt extreme anxiety and I felt like it came from the fact that I had no immediate way to kill myself. what I felt was overwhelming.

I can honestly say that one of the few things that kept me going through it was friends. One friend in particular. One of the worst things I could do would be to cause her more pain than I know she has already suffered. I couldn't do that to her and so I kept on living. So in the most unintentional way, just by being there and being a good friend, she saved my life. How do you tell someone they literally saved your life without even knowing it? I feel like I should be thanking her every single day, and yet I don't think she would understand. Ah well, such is the depth of human emotion.

What Scissors Can Do

The other day I was just sitting here and a sudden urge hit me. I started of small, with the same knife I used before. I started off in a rather unusual way, my upper forearm near the shoulder being my chosen target. "It's easier to hide" was the thought that ran through my mind. Of course the knife did no better a job of cutting than it did the first time. All it did was scrape up the skin, though my lack of co-ordination may have had something to do with it. Next I tried using a metal nail file, becuase of something I had seen on tv ages ago. But I didn't have the heart to stab the soft tissue, and I suspected it wouldn't work anyways because in the tv show the nail file had been stabbed through someone's eye, which seems much easier to stab then the arm, for obvious reasons.

Thus I quickly switched to a pair of scissors. Not regular scissors, no but a pair of manicure scissors from my personal care kit. I used the tip of the scissors to scrape away the skin, one layer at a time. As layer after layer fell away, the pain increased. I felt a sense of deep satisfaction at that. For once this was something I could control completely. I didn't manage to draw blood, becuase after a time the pain became too intense that I wimped out and couldn't continue. But I did leave a mark, one that causes me pain when it rubs against my sleeve, a reminder in myself. And in that pain I find my solace.

On another note, I binged agian today. What follows was one of the harder times I've been through.... somehow I can't even bring myself to say the word. But at one point I almost stopped from the pain in my throat. I think I managed to make my throat bleed again, for there was blood on my fingers. This means a couple of days without food. But in starving myslef I will find comfort. As the song says, find comfort in pain.

My own eternal battle

So there's something that has been bothering me a lot lately. And I think maybe I am going to regret writing this post later on, and maybe delete it or edit it but as Garcia says "Once something's out there on the internet sir, you can never take it back".

It all started somewhere back during the summer between 10th and 11th grade. I had been chronically teased about my weight, and I was under so much stress. I became obsessed with my body image. I weighed myself constantly. I started off not eating if I could avoid it, and gradually fell into a very bad pattern that summer and began purging after every meal. I lost a lot of weight that summer, losing somewhere around 20 % of my body weight. But my parent's began to notice something was wrong. I managed to pass it off as being do to nausea. They told my doctor about it. It stopped for a while... sort of.

I did it on and off for the rest of high school. But gradually it changed. Instead of just purging after meals, I was eating large amounts of food, and then purging out of guilt. By now it was the summer between high school and first year of universtiy. By first year of university everything changed. I was living in a residence, with a common shared bathroom, and I just didn't feel comfortable there. The binging still continued, followed by periods of restrained eating, but it was never enough. Over the next two years, I slowly regained all the weight, even though I would falls back into my bad pattern whenever I went home.

This past summer, everything got worse. My weight started to become a big issue. I was working away from home for summer. I was living in a dormitory with shared communal bathrooms but there were so few of us there that I could usually get the bathroom alone. I stopped eating properly. I would purge after every meal except for those increasingly rare occasions when I would eat at work. By the time I got home there would be no point. And even then I didn't really eat 'meals' except for when I had dinner with friends. I would instead binge on junk food and then immediately purge.

This continued for the entire summer. I thought it would end when I went back to university. That I would stop being able to purge and so I would maybe start eating healthy again. But it hasn't. I found myself binging and purging, only occasionally eating a healthy meal on campus. I'm spending way too much moenney on junk food, but I can't stop it. I've tried, but the anxiety becomes to much, and I have to carry though just to make it go away. Even that sometimes doesn't work.

And the anxiety has only gotten worse. First of all... at the end of the summer I had a consultation with a psychologist for a specific reason. The consultation included filling out a one of these inventories, I don't remember which one. There was a question on eating habits there, and I lied on one part just becuase I knew my parents would be filling it out too. It didn't matter though becuase the psychologist still mentioned bulimia nervosa in front of my parents. From my reaction he could see I wasn't comfrotable and so he didn't really address it then.

But here I am, studying psychology myself. And one of the courses I took this semester was psychopathology. And one of the chapters was on... you guessed it, eating disorders. The lecture on eating disorders was given by a guest lecturer. I felt so uncomfortable during the lecture and almost ended up in tears. Between that and the text book and the good old DSM-IV TR I could no longer deny what I had been trying to ignore for the psat 4 years. That if I went to a clinician who had the proper additional 2 years of supervised training and qualifications necessary to preform such diagnoses, that I would probably be diagnosed with an eating disorder.

Yet even that agknowlegement does not help me at all. I can't bring myself to seek treatment, to bring it up withn my parents, or anything. I know the stats... the word chronic if untreated rings through my mind. I am tired of it all yet I just can't seem to stop. My life has suffered, I feel so down sometimes, yet I don't know what to do. earlier this semester I managed to make my throat bleed yet again, but this time it was worse than ever because I scratched the bag of my throat with my finger nail. And then had trouble breathing from the blood I accidently inhaled.

One of the reason I can't talk to my parents is becuase I know I still won't get the help I will need. They will just ignore the porblem like they have for the past 4 years and tell me to stop doing it, the same way they have ignored the problem every other time I have asked for their help. I can't trust them to do the right thing anymore, yet I can't do this alone.

it's taking time from my studies. It's costing me money I can't afford to lose. I have no one to turn to and I feel so lost and confused. This is my silent plea, my final cry for help.

Fear Like No Other

I'm scared. For the first time in my life I'm honestly and truly scared. And the surprising thing, or maybe not so surprising, is the source of my fear - my own mind. No it's not one of those stereotypical "maybe I'll develop schizophrenia because someone in my family has it" type of fears. No this is something else.

Note this a little bit gross but bear with me. For a long time I've suffered from ingrown toenails... on both large toes. (I told you it was gross, but again bear with me). The one on my left foot has always been particularly bothersome. For years now, every time it hurts I've had these thoughts about taking a knife to it, in some perverted attempt to fix the problem. A couple of weeks ago, on all hallows eve, my toe was bothering me particularly badly. It was swollen and sore. For what ever reason, I was in an odd state of mind that night and did something I have never done before.... I acted on my fantasies and took a steak knife too it... or rather, I attempted to act on my fantasies. Unfortunately... or maybe fortunately... the steak knife was much to doll to even break the skin, never the less do what I thought needed to actually be done. However I did manage to cut into it near the nail, where the skin was kind of dry and I guess some of the cells were dead.

Gore Warning Ahead
Let me tell you turned out not to be the brightest idea in the world, aside from the obvious reasons. The knife must not have been clean, becusae the area where I cut, in addition to the entire left side of the nail bed, soon became very infected. It's still infected today, despite the heavy use of antibiotical cream. It's painful, and it's gotten bloody, and I'm afraid that the very piece of skin I attempted to cut of may be rotting off. There is some preverse irony in that.

Now what was the port of this rather disturbing story? Well as I said I had been having these fantasies for a while and this was the first time I had acted on them. And that's what makes me so very afraid. I knew it was irrational, and that had always stopped me before, despite how persitant and compelling the fantasies were... and their promisses of relief. Not only did I act on them, but I acted on them for no reaosn, at least none that I know of. This seems completely irrational to me, and thus leaves me terrified of myself.

And that isn't even the worst part. The fantasies haven't come back... but they've been replaced by new fantasies. Fantasies of suicide pervade my thoughts. I find myself thinking of how easy it would be to go over and take the pills I have, wondering if I have enough to die. These thoughts scare me, since I'm fairly happy right now... happier than I've been in times past, and I had never considered suicide before. And after what happened with the last fantasies, I'm afraid that one day I'll get up and take those pills, or drink that fluid, and die, for no reason at all. I really don't want to die. I have friends I care too much about, I'm doing well in school, I'm managing better than I ever had, yet I am left trully and honestly terrified.

All I can say is one thing. Help

Profiling and Human Behaviour

What gets me the most about criminal profiling, is that fact that even in the most dysfunctional and deviant of behavior, their is sameness. This fact astounds me, while at the same time leaving me with a profound sense of sadness.

It also astounds me that even as there are some who suffer years of emotional abuse and turn into killers, there are some people who have gone through hell and back, yet remain relatively untouched by it. I say relatively untouched, for even the survivor can never be completely free of what has happened to us. Even if years of abuse may not show itself in concrete ways, such as the development of psychopathology, it still helps define us and shape who we are, just as each and every experience we encounter does so.

Eternal Sleep

Have you ever had thoughts of just ending it all? Earlier today I had one of those rare occurences. By rare I mean it wasn't triggered by depression, or thoughts of despair. Simply a single line in a story I was reading. "10 minutes". Ten minutes later and he would have never awakened. I don't even think the line actually mentioned waking up. Just the ten minutes. But the idea was there. And suddenly I found a grim picture jumping to my mind. A picture of taking all the medications I have, all at once, and simply lying down to sleep for ever.


Moral of this story: Stories about torture and abuse + lack of sleep do not a good combination make.
For those 10 seconds, while the picture was still resonating in my mind, was the second longest 10 seconds of my life.

Trip Update

So I posted a while ago about how I was excited about a trip I was going to be taking soon. Well now it's months past that trip, and I can still remember it like it was yesterday. Me and my friend PB drove down to a friend's place, where another friend was also staying. We spent the first night drinking, and "catching up" at Kep's place. The second day though, we embarked on the real purpose of our trip, "camping". We went out into the woods and set up tents. Well rather me and Kep set up the tents, while PB and K were doing other stuff.

We then walked down to the creak that ran through the campgrounds. WE started off wading. K and PB were afraid of this giant ass frog, but I wanted to poke it :( Then we were all standing around, and Kep was telling us about the natural slide's and I said I was up for anything. His respionse was "Anything?" and I was like "Yah, anything" and then the jerk pushed me in! Anyways so I was already wet, so we decided we would try and find the natural slides.

We went walking through the woods tryign to find the slide's. At one point we had to climb down to a lower path, and it took a while to convince K and PB it was safe to come down. Eventually we did though, and they climbed down.

We didn't end up finding the natural slides, but we did end up swimming in some deeper pools of water. It took a while to convince K and PB to come into the water, but eventually they did. K wouldn't step anywhere that she couldn't see the bottom.

As we were on our way back from swimming, we randomly met Kep's dad in the middle of the forest. That was weird becuase there was literally no one else around. It turned out good though, because Kep's dad lent us his hatchet.

After we got back, and everyone changed into dry clothes, we decided that we needed to go out and get firewood so we could cook lunch, and at the same time we would pick up smore's and Kep would get a change of clothes from his house.

When we got back from picking stuff out, K was already drunk, as she had been mixing drinks while we were gone. She hadn't even had that much to drink though, it was just the effect of drinking on an empty stomach.

So after we got back we headed back down to the grilling pits near the creak. It took Kep forever to get the fire going, and even longer for it to be hot enough to start cooking food. He cooked a hot dog for K when it wasn't ready yet becuase K was really hungry.

When the food was finally cooked though, it tasted phenominal so I guess Kep is a pretty good cook.

After we finished with eating (at like 9 o'clock I think) we went back and made a campfire back at camp. We sat around mixing drinks and talking around the camp fire. At one point I went off to go pee in the woods, and went out so far that I couldn't see the campfire anymore. Luckily I had my flashlight on, because as I started walking back towards what I thought was camp, I heard K call out to me. Apparently I had been going off in the wrong direction entirely!

It was about 5'oclock in the morning when we remembered about making smores. So we decided not to let the smore stuff go to waste and made some, even though the chcoolate was kind of melted already from being left out.

For all the work that went into putting up the tents, we didn't use them that much. Me, PB, and Kep only slept for a few hours each. K didn't sleep at all becuase she wasn't quite comfortable with the idea of sleeping in the woods, since it was her first time camping.

The next day we cleaned up camp and went back to Kep's apartment. K fell asleep on the couch where PB, Kep and I played Uno and then War. We each one a couple of rounds of uno, but once we started playing War, PB was winning every time. After that we talked for a bit, and eventually it was time for us to go home.

Oh ya, back at the house, Kep made us french toast and it was good.

So in the end PB and I headed home. We almost had to stop and come back twice because we thought we had left something there. But overall it was a fun trip

So I am starting to get real excited about a trip i will be taking this week

Blogger Mobile

I am somewhat disappointed that my phone is not supported for Blogger Mobile.

I tried using mail2blog but it doesn't work so well since my provider automatically adds my cell phone number to any emails I send from my phone. As much as I love my non existent readers I would rather not have my cell phone number published all over my blog. Especially since I am trying to protect the identity of those I mention. 

This is a little story

This is a little story about 4 people named Everybody, Somebody, Anybody and Nobody.

There was an important job to be done and Everybody was sure that Somebody would do it.

Anybody could have done it but Nobody did it.

Somebody got angry about that because it was Everybody's job.

Everybody thought that Anybody could do it, but Nobody realized that Everybody wouldn't do it.

It ended up that Everybody blamed Somebody when Nobody did what Anyone could have done.

Note: This was a story that was printed on a card, that was hung in a bathroom stall. I was lame enough to copy it because I liked it.

Where Did it go?

When we're young everyone always tells us that we can be whatever we want to be, and the whole world lies ahead of us. Our mind constantly changes as we explore the world, trying new things and figuring out our likes and dislikes. One day I want to be an artist. The next day an astronaut, maybe a writer. Through it all we dream. We are always constantly dreaming, about the future and what lies ahead. Yet suddenly I find myself 20 years old, in the middle of a university degree and I find myself wondering when did the doors close? When did my mind settle? No longer is the childhood colloquialism, "Be what you want to be" true. Many doors have already closed, and seemingly only one path lies ahead, straight and true. Sure the occasional path to the side pops up, but these are no more than faint trails, and to go down them would to leave the clear, well worn path, and travel into the unknown. Fear holds me on that worn path, the path I have carved out with every decision I've made and every door that I've closed. I find myself wishing I could travel back along that path, back to the crossroads, re-opening doors along the way. Yet sadly I cannot. I can't turn back time. I can't undo the decisions I made, and find a different path. But even if I could, I've come too far. Those are paths are far behind me, far enough so that I can no longer see where they might have lend. So even if I could go back, I wouldn't know which decisions to change. I'm stuck with the life I have carved for myself. My only consultation is the fact that there are still a few crossroads to come, and even now I find myself wandering down a beaten old track I hadn't even realized was there. I can only hope that this track will eventually join some other well warn road, and once again the future will become clear.

Even as I sit hear, I wonder what happened to those dreams. And then I finally realized: I never gave up on those dreams, I just stopped dreaming.