Packing.

Today's the day where I try to pack the last month away. I don't even know where to begin.

Remind me next year that I do not need to bring my entire wardrobe home, seeing as I'll spend all of my time at home in sweatpants anyways.

Not to mention the fact that I acquired two pairs of boots this season, along with my rain boots. Is there an item that is more suitcase unfriendly?

Wish me luck. Back to the most wonderful place on earth tomorrow. :)

But... I still have to figure out textbooks. Eff.

Emily writes a serious post? No way.

My new years resolution was to be more positive, so here I go.

Confidence. It's a word that I've struggled with for awhile, but yet not a foreign concept. I felt confident on the drum major podium, leading a 1st place band. I felt confident standing on a stage at an irish dance competition. More specifically, I'm going to write about body image. It's something I've been wanting to write down for awhile, but never have. Maybe now is the opportunity. Let's see how this goes.

It may be very typical teenage girl of me, but for as long as I can remember, I've been absolutely nuts about my weight. Pretty much everyone knows that about me. What may be less typical is the fact that the first time I remember hating myself was when I was only 9. Coincidentally, that's also the age I started ballet. Again, how typical- the dancer who wants to be thin. I guess I'm just a walking stereotype. Haha. But outside of the dance studio, out of the leotards and tights, that mindset continued and became a way of life. In 6th grade I was the girl who refused to wear shorts to school, convinced that the other kids would laugh at her. In 7th grade I had come to the conclusion that no one would ever like me. In 8th grade my only wish was that I would have enough willpower to just stop eating altogether.

I may make it sound overly dramatic, but it sort of was. I hate that I felt that way, and I hate everything that made me that way. I was crazy. I was Amber Keeler level crazy. I may make fun of her theatrical tendencies, and I may mock her plees for attention, but I would never ever laugh at her problems with eating disorders. It's a mindset that overwhelms you, and no matter what the scale says, it all depends on how you see yourself in the mirror.

I would never consider myself as anorexic. I was never diagnosed and I've probably never gone more than 24 hours without eating, but it wasn't for a lack of trying. I cut out eating lunch in 9th grade, opting to tell people that I always just ate a big breakfast, but that was a lie too. I never ate breakfast. I counted calories like mad, and I wrote down everything I ate in a journal. Never anorexic, but always on the verge (Bulimia would never work either because for one, it's gross, and also my gag reflex is almost nonexistent).

That was probably the worst year of it. I don't have any distinct memories surrounding 10th and 11th grade. Mostly I just sucked up my low self esteem and went on with my life, considering myself more quirky about it than anything else. I ran 2 miles on the treadmill in the morning, and 2 miles in the evening, finding a different angle to approach weight lose. I thought it was more healthy. I didn't really think of myself as abnormal until I realized that I couldn't tell people my habits. Yeah, I weigh myself 3 times a day. Isn't that normal? No, not quite. Obsession is never healthy.

During my senior year I made a New Years resolution NOT to make a resolution about losing weight. I wanted to stop hating myself. And somehow or another, that's when the number on the scale began to lessen. Maybe part of it was that I now had a boy to tell me I was beautiful whenever I was feeling down. That probably helped more than I'd like to admit. Goodness, I'm vain. Haha.

And now, I'm more okay than ever. Time for the positivity! :D

I lost about 15 pounds and feel comfortable to tell people my weight for the first time. UVA band camp made me accustomed to wearing tank tops and shorts, and I let go of my petrifying fear of the freshmen 15. I work out twice a week, and stop long before I reach the points of nausea. I can look at myself and smile.

When my RA asked my entire suite to be a part of a body image panel, I was ecstatic. Two days for two hours I would sit in a circle with girls I felt comfortable with and we'd discuss why women are forced to feel the way they do. We had the cliched assignment to look in a mirror and write down physical things we like about ourselves, which was quite refreshing.

So now, Sarah Clements, I want you to write 5 things you like about yourself and post it in a blog. :) I'll go first!

1. I have fantastic skin. I don't appreciate it as much as I should because I've never had a problem with it. In my life I've probably only had 2 or 3 pimples. Acne? What a foreign concept. Sure, I'll never be able to tan, but that's alright with me. Skin cancer sucks anyways

2. My hair. I've always complained about it, and I'm always trying to change it, and my roommate may tell me I don't have a soul because of it, but I'm really lucky. I am proud to be a redhead. :)

3. I am a curvaceous white girl. I have come to consider it a gift rather than a curse. Channeling Beyonce.

4. It may sound weird, but I adore my hands. They're perfectly feminine, in my opinion. They're sort of quintessential ballet hands.

5. I HAVE MAN CALVES AND I AM PROUD.

End serious post. Your regularly scheduled program will return tomorrow. :)

Sleep.

Okay, I seriously need to get back to school and get onto a normal schedule. For one, at school I stay up late because I follow the bandwagon, and usually my suite is hoppin' (with the exception of Bailey, who goes to bed at 10). Then I have to wake up early (ish. It will never compare to 5:30 every day for 5 years), which is good for me, being a morning person and all.

At home, though, I go to sleep whenever Christian does, because he's my main form of entertainment (dirty!), so around 11. Then I'll wake up around 8, realize that there's nothing to do and I may as well waste more time, and go back to sleep until 10, which leaves me feeling miserable.

I know, easy fix, right? But that's not the point. It's the principle of the matter!

Also, when I get more sleep, I have some pretty ridiculous dreams. This blog will be devoted to listing some of said dreams.

1. The most notable of these dreams had to be my fantasy about Taylor Swift. I mean, I like listening to Taylor Swift and she happens to be my guilty pleasure, but this was a step too far (like the song in Aida! Har har ). I dreamt that she was my best friend, and for some reason, since we were best friends we had to shower together. And randomly like 5 other people were over. So we all get into my tiny shower and… bathe… while belting, “You Belong With Me” to one another.

2. I have this reoccurring dream where I go to a summer camp on a boat, but it’s like Titanic themed or something. Basically, at the end of camp, the boat sinks and we all have to find a way to safety or we die. The crew tries to keep this a secret, but I know, because I’ve been to the camp every year (why, I have no idea). The whole dream was me trying to survive with my friend. A funny excerpt was when I found Kelsey Moran looking off the balcony. She was being dramatic and was all, “We’re going to die, aren’t we Emily?” It seemed oddly Kelsey to me.

3. Last night I had a dream where I was a spy. My secret headquarters was my bed, so my other two spy partners were in there with me. I was wearing a purple sweater, not that it matters. Anyways, so an evil guy breaks into my fortress and tries to steal my… glitter glue pens. An epic battle ensues in which we grapple over the blue pen, and in the process he squirts it all over me. For some reason, this was devastating.

4. This is probably my most frightening dream, although when I retell it, it just makes me sound like a pansy. It is also reoccurring (I think. At least I remember the premise of it, though I may have dreamt it all in one night). Anyways, so the dream typically is set at nighttime (as with any nightmare), and walking around outside. Last night, I was sitting in my backyard with me family, and I see something moving on the side of the hill, so I’m all, “Mom, what the hell is that?”, and she assures me nothing is there. I’m still uneasy, and then this thing hurls itself at me and starts attacking. This thing is the bit that’s reoccurring. In all my dreams I’m unprepared and it comes at me and surprises me and I wake up shaking and terrified (last night, right after I had it, I got a text from Christian saying he couldn’t sleep, so I called him and made him talk to me. That’s what boyfriends are for). Anyways, the bit that makes me sound like a pansy is that this creature is either a vicious black cat or a vicious black Chihuahua. I don’t know, because in my dreams I never ever see its face, which seems like a critical point. I’m pretty sure it’s a demon something or other. I don’t want to have it again. :(

And those are all the dreams I can remember at this point in time. I have like 4 a night and they’re all equally as weird.

Subconsciously racist?

https://implicit.harvard.edu/implicit/

I'm posting it too, Sarah. Not that anyone reads else reads my blog. Har har.

This quiz told me I was moderately racist, which was a surprise to me. It does it all by weird subconscious sorting. Apparently I prefer light skin to dark skin? I guess it's not that big of a surprise, growing up in what's basically the ghetto of nova. I don't know how reliable the test it, but I guess I wouldn't disagree with it. My boyfriend may be half black, but I still think he's rather light skinned. Honestly it was sort of a surprise that I was attracted to him in the first place, if that makes sense. Before I was restricted to only pretty white boys. Now I'm just digging myself into a hole.

But the quiz also told me I had a moderate preference for straight people over gay people, which I can't believe is true. David's one of my very best friends, he's gay, and I absolutely love being with him.

And I moderately think females should stay in the kitchen and make sandwiches. I thought I was doing good on that one too. Lame. My roommate won't like that. Bahaha.

I think I'm just really bad with the sorting. I freak out and get confused.

WOO.

I GO BACK TO SCHOOL SOON. I GO BACK TO SCHOOL SOON.

Sarah- go see King Stag tomorrow! :D

So. School. I'm pretty much really really pumped (except on the textbook front. rwar. Can I just go to school and live there and not take classes?). I've spent my day washing sheets and blankets and trying to figure out how the hell I'm going to pack all of my junk. Seriously. You accumulate so much being home.

I thought you'd appreciate the fact that I FINALLY cut the giant squid figurine out of it's packaging with the intent to take it to school. I NEED a giant squid decorating my room somewhere. Maybe it can be my good luck charm. Personally, I enjoy the movable ACTION FIGHTING PALPUS.

But seriously. Best gift ever. Kudos to you Sarah Clements.

Today I also found my sophomore year winter guard costume. I'm pretty sure I was supposed to turn it in at the end of the season, but never did. Oh well. No one will miss it now. I have also decided that it needs to come to school with me. For one, it has this fantastically awkward turtleneck leotard complete with crotch snaps (yum yum), for two, if you take out the fantastically awkward turtleneck leotard you are left with a sexy belly dancing outfit. I figure it'll come more handy at UVA than sitting around in my room. If I ever need to dress like a slut (as sluttly as I'm capable of. Really. It's not a lot), I'm covered.

Man. I'm going off on all sorts of random tangents today.

Is it just me or is everyone getting a blog? I think we're trendsetters. Too bad everyone elses blog has real opinions about things of actual importance.

Oh well.

SCHOOL SCHOOL SCHOOL. I can't wait to go back. :)

YOU GRADUATE SOON, MY LITTLE PORPOISE (lolwut?). I WILL BE IN ATTENDANCE. I MIGHT CRY MORE THAN I DID AT MY OWN GRADUATION (which was none). I HOPE THE SPEECHES ARE BETTER THAN THEY WERE FOR ME. Graduation at Jiffy Lube Live. Lawlz. I feel for you.

I'm done pointlessly rampaging on my blog. I should go do something of actual importance. Who am I kidding though, I'm on break, nothing is important. Though I did buy An Inconvenient Truth by Al Gore at McKays. I've been geeking out over that. I love Al Gore.

I'll end this on the note of gerophilia.

<3

TEXTBOOK RAGE

RWAR RWAR RWAR.

I HATE TRYING TO BUY TEXTBOOKS.

NO, I DO NOT WANT TO SPEND $200 ON A CALCULUS BOOK.

NOT TO MENTION THE TEACHERS WHO DO NOT EVEN HAVE TEXTBOOKS LISTED YET.

Angry.

Planning.

I'm desperately trying to figure out what I want to major in and how to go about doing this. At this moment I'm thinking about environmental science with a double major in environmental thought and practice. Environmental science is, obviously, science and math heavy, while thought and practice is more... thoughtful? I don't know. It's more like the policy class I took, and that I loved. After 4 years I could transfer to the law school and go into environmental law. Wouldn't that be nifty?

Basically I think it'd make me pretty well rounded.

But it'd be tough. Really tough. I need the 4 core classes, 2 semesters of calc, a year of chem, a year of biology, a semester of physics. That's just for the science major alone, not counting the electives and hours required. I'm pretty sure I can't even survive calc and the science classes. They're all designed to be ridiculously hard in order to weed out the pre-med kids. This is hardly fair. I could have gone to Wise, gotten straight As and been accepted into any grad program I wanted. Instead I chose the competitive school where I will only ever be average, or below average. Who knows. I like to think I'm smart.

The ETP major is a little more lenient, but the program is difficult to get accepted into. They only take 15 a year.

I've been trying to plan the courses to take over the next 3 years. It's sadly inevitable that some of them look like I'll have way too many science and math courses loaded together. =/

I am stuck, Sarahtonin! Tell me what to do in life!

If all else fails I'm transferring to the education school and becoming an elementary school teacher. Fo rizzle.