It's that time of year again. No, not the holidays...it's finals. I'm so excited....said no one ever. No but seriously, I'll be happy when all of my portfolios and finals are done with and submitted. I took 18 credits this semester, so needless to say it was pretty intense. Studying for finals is never a fun time, especially when you live with sixty sorority girls who all have exams at different times. It would happen that I have exams up until the LAST possible time slot, and majority of my floor was finished by tuesday. The house was chaos with girls packing up for winter break and blasting music, there was no way I would be able to write efficiently or study anything. It had to be done; the dreaded walk to the library. There is nothing I hate more than walking to the library at night. It's dark, cold, and kind of scary to tell the truth. Even once arriving at the library, it's impossible to find a spot. But there it was, a prime spot in the new booths on the first floor; the "Finals Gods" were with me.
As I took a look around the library, I noticed how stressed everyone looked and not to mention how tired. My friend works in the cafe at the library, and I don't even want to know how many Razzbulls she had sold this past week. Then suddenly, I remembered how my freshmen year here at URI, I was studying for finals during finals week and a huge mob blasting house music came running into the library...literally hundreds of kids, maybe even more. It made the news and everything. I remember we all got kicked out of the library, and I envied the kids who had the time to literally party in the library as I was desperately cramming for my entry course level exams (don't judge, Bio-100 was a pain). As I reminisced on that day, I came back to reality and wondered what would happen if that same series of events were to occur again, right now. I found myself laughing and thinking "At this point, I don't care anymore and would probably join in on the mob". Looks like someone has a bad case of "senioritis" a little too early, more like a whole year too early. Needless to say, I am more than looking forward to this well deserved break.
The greatest place in the world
nothing like doing some writing under a great sunrise
Friday, December 21, 2012
The Wrong Party
Recently, I was in Eastward in Narragansett on my way to a party with some friends. We were given the wrong address, and showed up at the wrong house. However, we didn't know it was the wrong house at first because there were lots of cars outside, so it seemed as if a party was going on; the party we were supposed to be going to. However, when we walked in the front door, we quickly realized it was the wrong house and tried to sneak out the door without being caught. "Hey! You can come in!" said a voice from behind us. Embarrassed, we all turn around and explained how we ended up there. The boy was very kind, and extended the invitation to stay, so we did.
As my friends and I walked inside the party, we couldn't help but notice that the crowd was a little...different from what we were used to. There was no house music blasting from some crappy wanna-be student DJ, but rather boys jamming with their own acoustic guitars and singing in the living room. The girls weren't dressed in skimpy dresses and high stilettos they couldn't even walk in. Instead, they were dressed comfortably in jeans and loose fitting T-shirts; I envied them and their comfort. Of course there was still the usual drinking games such as Beer Pong and Flip Cup, but unlike the parties we were used to, these guys actually let girls get a chance on the table; they didn't hog it up the whole time.
Long story short, we ended up staying there the whole night. It's amazing how we were so uncomfortable and judgmental in the beginning of the night and before we knew it, we were having a better time than we would have had at the other party we were supposed to be at. As it turned out, the boys never texted us from the other party, so guess they didn't miss us too much. It was nice to spend a friday night with genuine people just having fun with each other. My friends and I all felt so comfortable; the girls weren't catty at all and the boys weren't pressuring. Everyone was just there to have a good time. I'm glad we met this group of people, because we now hangout with them on a regular basis. Oh, and we could actually hear each other talk over the music, unlike when those wanna-be DJ's play at other parties. A major plus.
As my friends and I walked inside the party, we couldn't help but notice that the crowd was a little...different from what we were used to. There was no house music blasting from some crappy wanna-be student DJ, but rather boys jamming with their own acoustic guitars and singing in the living room. The girls weren't dressed in skimpy dresses and high stilettos they couldn't even walk in. Instead, they were dressed comfortably in jeans and loose fitting T-shirts; I envied them and their comfort. Of course there was still the usual drinking games such as Beer Pong and Flip Cup, but unlike the parties we were used to, these guys actually let girls get a chance on the table; they didn't hog it up the whole time.
Long story short, we ended up staying there the whole night. It's amazing how we were so uncomfortable and judgmental in the beginning of the night and before we knew it, we were having a better time than we would have had at the other party we were supposed to be at. As it turned out, the boys never texted us from the other party, so guess they didn't miss us too much. It was nice to spend a friday night with genuine people just having fun with each other. My friends and I all felt so comfortable; the girls weren't catty at all and the boys weren't pressuring. Everyone was just there to have a good time. I'm glad we met this group of people, because we now hangout with them on a regular basis. Oh, and we could actually hear each other talk over the music, unlike when those wanna-be DJ's play at other parties. A major plus.
Providence Clubs (cringe)
I've always been a very outgoing person, going out with friends at night and always down for anything. However, the one scene of night life that I hadn't tried before was going to a dance club. I'm more of a bar girl, where I get to talk and mingle with people, I've just never been much of a dancer. Well, that all changed one weekend this past semester. My friends dragged me to one of their favorite clubs in Providence and I thought "Eh, what the heck. It can't be that bad". Well, I was wrong. It was ultimately the worst night of my life, and I'll tell you why.
First of all, all of the boys were hanging on the girls like they had never seen females dancing with each other before. Guys would just sneak up on you and start dancing with you, most of them you wouldn't have wanted to dance with anyways. I wanted it to just be a fun girls night where I could release some stress and "dance the night away" since it works for some people. However, it was hard to do that when you're surrounded by people you feel uncomfortable around.
Once we had finally had enough (which I thought would never happen) we started to walk back to our car. Of course, the night wasn't over yet because getting to our car was an adventure all on its own. Rachel, our DD, had forgotten where she had parked in the city. We ran into trouble when some guys started giving us a hard time, but lucky for us there were cops patrolling the area and they saw what was happening. They drove us around and helped us find our car and made sure we safely made it back on the road.
Needless to say, I hope to never go to a club again, never mind a club in such a sketchy area like Providence. Actually, I'd prefer not to go out into cities with just girls, since I just feel safer if some guy friends come along as well. At least I can cross off "clubbing" from my list of "I wonders..." and go on with life. It turns out, I wasn't missing out on much and should've just kept wondering.
First of all, all of the boys were hanging on the girls like they had never seen females dancing with each other before. Guys would just sneak up on you and start dancing with you, most of them you wouldn't have wanted to dance with anyways. I wanted it to just be a fun girls night where I could release some stress and "dance the night away" since it works for some people. However, it was hard to do that when you're surrounded by people you feel uncomfortable around.
Once we had finally had enough (which I thought would never happen) we started to walk back to our car. Of course, the night wasn't over yet because getting to our car was an adventure all on its own. Rachel, our DD, had forgotten where she had parked in the city. We ran into trouble when some guys started giving us a hard time, but lucky for us there were cops patrolling the area and they saw what was happening. They drove us around and helped us find our car and made sure we safely made it back on the road.
Needless to say, I hope to never go to a club again, never mind a club in such a sketchy area like Providence. Actually, I'd prefer not to go out into cities with just girls, since I just feel safer if some guy friends come along as well. At least I can cross off "clubbing" from my list of "I wonders..." and go on with life. It turns out, I wasn't missing out on much and should've just kept wondering.
Ski Trip '12
A few weekends ago, a couple of friends and I had decided to go to Killington Mountain for a ski weekend. Well, I assumed it was all our first time skiing, and I assumed wrong. I had no idea my friends were so good at snow sports! Needless to say, I was always way behind them, and honestly half of the trails we went on I probably should've just skipped out on. They were pretty mad I never told them it would be my first time skiing, but after a while they came around and enjoyed watching me struggle and playfully making fun of me. By the end of the trip, I could successfully ski down a blue square trail and almost keep up with the rest of my group. I'm glad I had this learning experience and put myself out of my comfort zone. While it may have been frustrating for my friends in the beginning, it was all worth it in the end. Now the next time that we decide to take a ski trip, I'll be more than prepared and excited!
Turkey Day
My holidays are always a little more hectic than the normal. My parents are divorced, and both are remarried. This means I get two of everything; two Thanksgivings, two Christmas'...you get the point. This past Thanksgiving, literally everything that could go wrong, did. To start out, I completely misunderstood my mom and showed up to her dinner about 45 minutes late...which she was not happy about. I also forgot to pick up some whipped cream for the pie...and no place was open in town. I dropped the ball on that one big time. Realizing it wasn't the end of the world, we moved on and continued dinner. Well, good thing my annoying little cousin screamed about there being no stuffing or else it would've stayed in the oven and caught on fire. I know what you're thinking, stuffing is a pretty hard thing to forget. But when you have 40+ people running around your house...things can get a little out of control and slip your mind.
After my mother's fiasco of a dinner, I digested for maybe ohhh I don't know..15 minutes and I was off to my dad's. Barely being able to walk, I wobbled to my car and drove one street over to his house, yes, just one street. Ridiculous, I know. Well, this thanksgiving didn't seem to be going much better. My step mom was yelling at my dad for not making the potatoes right or something like that, and he turned around too fast to defend himself and BAM...dropped half of the turkey on the floor. Yep, all.over.the.floor. Well, this just caused chaos. But, as usual, realizing it wasn't the end of the world we were all just happy we could be together and enjoy a meal...even if all of us didn't get to have turkey. It's never a dull moment at either one of my houses, and that's just the way I like it.
After my mother's fiasco of a dinner, I digested for maybe ohhh I don't know..15 minutes and I was off to my dad's. Barely being able to walk, I wobbled to my car and drove one street over to his house, yes, just one street. Ridiculous, I know. Well, this thanksgiving didn't seem to be going much better. My step mom was yelling at my dad for not making the potatoes right or something like that, and he turned around too fast to defend himself and BAM...dropped half of the turkey on the floor. Yep, all.over.the.floor. Well, this just caused chaos. But, as usual, realizing it wasn't the end of the world we were all just happy we could be together and enjoy a meal...even if all of us didn't get to have turkey. It's never a dull moment at either one of my houses, and that's just the way I like it.
Texas
My older sister is married and has two beautiful children, Isabella and Tyler. Isabella is now 8 and Tyler is 4 but when they were much younger, their family had to pack up and move just outside of Houston, Texas. My sister's husband got laid off of work when the economy became bad, and worked hard to get his current job working for the FBI. The downside to my sister and the little ones moving away is that they are no longer just down the road. However, the upside is that I get to take trips to Texas and visit them. I stated in one of my previous posts how I'm a country girl at heart, so when I found out they were packing it up for Texas...part of me was excited.
I took my first visit to Texas a couple of summers ago when I was in a pretty bad place at the time. I had just gotten out of my first serious relationship, which looking back I handled it rather foolishly, but at the time it was literally the end of the world. Anyways, it was a good thing that I got to spend a week with the only two little ones who are sure to put a smile on my face because I hadn't been happy in a while by that point. It was great to be reunited with my family and see their smiling faces and just get my mind off of things. However, it wasn't just my family that made me happy, but the entire atmosphere of Texas was beyond tranquil for me.
We would go out to eat a ton, and honestly every single place we went to, the waitress acted as if she had known us forever and we were her best friends. You just don't get that kind of service back in the northeast, I don't care how stereotypical it sounds. Everybody is run by the clock, and almost nobody stops to smile or say "thank you". Being in Texas made me happier I think, because everybody else was happy as well! I know they say you don't always have to be a product of your environment and you can pave your own way, but I honestly think your environment has an effect on your mood for sure. If everybody is in a rush and living by the clock, it's hard for me not to feel that same anxiety. If I ordered food and specified about my food allergies, the manager in a Texas restaurant would personally come over to me and tell me honestly if they would be able to respect my limitations. I feel like back home, all I get is a steak cut with a knife they may have rinsed off, and hope I don't die.
That trip to Texas reminded me that there was life after my ex boyfriend and that better things were to come. Again, I feel so stupid for how I acted, but at the time, it was beyond a huge deal. Whenever I'm feeling down, I just think of my trip to texas and how my family changed my mood, but also how the atmosphere helped as well. Sometimes, you just need to get out of your old rut and do something new, gaining new perspectives.
I took my first visit to Texas a couple of summers ago when I was in a pretty bad place at the time. I had just gotten out of my first serious relationship, which looking back I handled it rather foolishly, but at the time it was literally the end of the world. Anyways, it was a good thing that I got to spend a week with the only two little ones who are sure to put a smile on my face because I hadn't been happy in a while by that point. It was great to be reunited with my family and see their smiling faces and just get my mind off of things. However, it wasn't just my family that made me happy, but the entire atmosphere of Texas was beyond tranquil for me.
That trip to Texas reminded me that there was life after my ex boyfriend and that better things were to come. Again, I feel so stupid for how I acted, but at the time, it was beyond a huge deal. Whenever I'm feeling down, I just think of my trip to texas and how my family changed my mood, but also how the atmosphere helped as well. Sometimes, you just need to get out of your old rut and do something new, gaining new perspectives.
Thursday, December 20, 2012
New York City
This past summer, I visited my boyfriend who lives in New Jersey. He resides in a town only about a 20 minute train ride to New York City, so one day we decided to venture out into the Big Apple. It was my first time going to the city since I was a little girl, probably about four years old. I had obviously seen the city in many movies, TV shows, etc...but they didn't prepare me for what I was about to see. Literally, for the first half hour we were there, I don't think I said one word I was so in awe of everything. I had never seen so many different people, all dressed so uniquely and doing..well, sometimes strange things.
My favorite place we went to was Central Park, mostly because it didn't seem as crowded because it was so big. My boyfriend and I were able to find a quiet spot on the grass under a tree and look at all of the picture we had taken that day. It was also just a great place to people watch, which was actually really fun. Children were laughing, there were couples strolling hand in hand, both old and young alike. Then, there were the more obnoxious folk with that New York accent I know all too well. My dad is from Yonkers and moved to Rhode Island when he was 15 but never quite lost the accent. There were some people yelling at each other, and some just talked very, very ,VERY loudly.
But what I liked to look at most were the people who weren't so much talking..but just living. There was a man in very colorful clothing practicing his handstands and juggling. Sure, it seemed silly to me..but you know what, he seemed happy. If all it takes to make the man happy is some handstands and balls to juggle then God bless him. On my trip to NY, I saw a lot of people who "didn't have the time of day" or were too busy to smile..but this man, no, he had it right. Life goes by too quickly, and it's the small things in life that matter the most. I felt like everyone should be a little bit more like the man I saw in Central Park and just..live. Do what you love, because in the end your possessions and materialistic items die with you but what lives on are your art and ideas.
My favorite place we went to was Central Park, mostly because it didn't seem as crowded because it was so big. My boyfriend and I were able to find a quiet spot on the grass under a tree and look at all of the picture we had taken that day. It was also just a great place to people watch, which was actually really fun. Children were laughing, there were couples strolling hand in hand, both old and young alike. Then, there were the more obnoxious folk with that New York accent I know all too well. My dad is from Yonkers and moved to Rhode Island when he was 15 but never quite lost the accent. There were some people yelling at each other, and some just talked very, very ,VERY loudly.But what I liked to look at most were the people who weren't so much talking..but just living. There was a man in very colorful clothing practicing his handstands and juggling. Sure, it seemed silly to me..but you know what, he seemed happy. If all it takes to make the man happy is some handstands and balls to juggle then God bless him. On my trip to NY, I saw a lot of people who "didn't have the time of day" or were too busy to smile..but this man, no, he had it right. Life goes by too quickly, and it's the small things in life that matter the most. I felt like everyone should be a little bit more like the man I saw in Central Park and just..live. Do what you love, because in the end your possessions and materialistic items die with you but what lives on are your art and ideas.
The Washington County Fair
Around the time that I was twelve, I absolutely fell in love with country music. My parents do not listen to it, and neither do my siblings, so how I got introduced is beyond me. However, that is not the point, the point is that I was a twelve year old little girl who absolutely loved country music...and lived in Rhode Island near the water; about as far from "country" as it gets. I begged and begged for my parents to take me to Nashville to see a real live rodeo, but I clearly was never going to win that argument. Feeling bad, my dad looked around one summer and found the next best thing..the Washington County Fair. It's about as country as Rhode Island gets, and best of all, it had a "rodeo".
When we got to the fair, I suddenly felt at home. Everybody was wearing cowboy hats and cowgirl boots with plaid shirts..lots and lots of plaid. I could tell my dad felt uncomfortable, but I was already having the time of my life. The crowds were massively huge, and only got larger as we headed towards the livestock and rodeo. That's when I heard it, the obnoxiously loud rumble of an engine of sorts. I looked to my left, and saw the biggest tractor I had ever seen. Without hesitation I looked at my dad and said "forget the horses..I want to see THAT!".
We made our way over to the tractors, but couldn't get very close for there was a crowd of people in front of us. "Come on daddy! We need to get up front!" I squealed as I yanked my father's arm. But we weren't getting very far. Every inch we moved, we were shoved into somebody's way through all the hustle and bustle of the crowd. Don't forget, it was summer, and boy was it hot...so this meant that every time we were shoved into somebody, we were bumped against people's gross and sweaty bodies.
While I loved being at my first county fair and seeing the rodeo, animals and hearing country music...the crowds just didn't seem worth it. I was so small, I didn't stand a chance. Also, I was so short that I practically couldn't see anything going on that involved a stage or even the tractors. Im sure if I went again now, my views on the fair would be different..literally. But as it stands, crowds got the best of me that day and we never went back.
When we got to the fair, I suddenly felt at home. Everybody was wearing cowboy hats and cowgirl boots with plaid shirts..lots and lots of plaid. I could tell my dad felt uncomfortable, but I was already having the time of my life. The crowds were massively huge, and only got larger as we headed towards the livestock and rodeo. That's when I heard it, the obnoxiously loud rumble of an engine of sorts. I looked to my left, and saw the biggest tractor I had ever seen. Without hesitation I looked at my dad and said "forget the horses..I want to see THAT!".
We made our way over to the tractors, but couldn't get very close for there was a crowd of people in front of us. "Come on daddy! We need to get up front!" I squealed as I yanked my father's arm. But we weren't getting very far. Every inch we moved, we were shoved into somebody's way through all the hustle and bustle of the crowd. Don't forget, it was summer, and boy was it hot...so this meant that every time we were shoved into somebody, we were bumped against people's gross and sweaty bodies.
While I loved being at my first county fair and seeing the rodeo, animals and hearing country music...the crowds just didn't seem worth it. I was so small, I didn't stand a chance. Also, I was so short that I practically couldn't see anything going on that involved a stage or even the tractors. Im sure if I went again now, my views on the fair would be different..literally. But as it stands, crowds got the best of me that day and we never went back.
Sunday, December 2, 2012
The Drive Home
I know that my last post was about coming home from college in North Carolina, and to keep up with that trend, I am going to tell you just how exhausting that trip actually was. I had taken long road trips before, including trips to Texas and Florida, so when my then-boyfriend (let's call him Josh) had offered to come pick me up from school in North Carolina, I was thrilled. I had many things to bring home with me that December since I would not be returning to North Carolina, so driving back seemed like the most efficient way to bring all of my belongings home. The trip was supposed to take about 12-13 hours, but little did I know, I had no idea what I would be getting myself into.
I was extremely excited to endure on the trip from North Carolina back home to Rhode Island with Josh, although I can't say the same for him. I can't say I blamed him either, because he had to drive from Rhode Island to North Carolina one day to come and get me only to drive all the way back the next day with me and my obnoxious amount of pink belongings, stuffed animals and clothes....so much clothing. He was to arrive around 5:00 at night on a chilly Friday, but because of an unexpected snow storm that hit Virginia pretty hard, he didn't arrive until 10:00 pm. Needless to say, he was exhausted. All he wanted to do was go to sleep right away, but I kept pushing him to come out for some food and meet the friends I had made while away at college. That night we had our first ever fight, and it had pretty much set the tone for the trip the following day. I now know I should have been more understanding and thankful he was even doing this for me, but I was eighteen and to be honest, wasn't the sharpest crayon in the box.
The next day it was time to pack up the F150 (which I still couldn't pack all of my things in) and head on home. It had started to snow, and I had a feeling this trip would be a lot longer than 12 hours. I was already emotional that morning because while leaving High Point University was my decision, I had still made some great friends there and was sad to leave them. Not knowing if I would ever see them again was discouraging. I had started to cry early on in the car ride, and Josh was still heated from the night before. That being said, he was in no sympathetic mood. We had started to argue again, until I had literally just given up and fell asleep. Suddenly, the road trip that I had been looking forward to had turned into the road trip from hell that couldn't be over fast enough.
About five hours had gone by, and we decided to stop for food. The road conditions were awful, and it seemed people had suddenly forgot how to drive. While at the restaurant, Josh and I had finally come to a truce and said we would stop the stupid arguing. I finally thought the trip would be turning around, but of course, I was wrong. There was so much traffic, and right around New York it was already midnight...after being in the car for THIRTEEN HOURS. I thought I was going to cry I was so frustrated, but the worst was yet to come. About fourteen hours into our adventure, we both started to feel sick. We had both gotten the same chicken dish for dinner, and it appeared that made us sick. There is nothing worse than being stuck in a car..in traffic..and feeling like you're going to die.
Finally, 18 hours later...we made it back to my house in Rhode Island. It was literally the worst day of my life, between the arguing and getting sick. Not to mention, every time I would fall asleep and wake up, I'd feel like hours had gone by only to find out I was only asleep for about a half hour. I could never be comfortable for more than an hour at a time, and my satellite radio had expired while on the road so we didn't have good music half of the way. While I'm grateful Josh made the trip to get me, I'd have to say that's the last road trip I take with a boyfriend.
I was extremely excited to endure on the trip from North Carolina back home to Rhode Island with Josh, although I can't say the same for him. I can't say I blamed him either, because he had to drive from Rhode Island to North Carolina one day to come and get me only to drive all the way back the next day with me and my obnoxious amount of pink belongings, stuffed animals and clothes....so much clothing. He was to arrive around 5:00 at night on a chilly Friday, but because of an unexpected snow storm that hit Virginia pretty hard, he didn't arrive until 10:00 pm. Needless to say, he was exhausted. All he wanted to do was go to sleep right away, but I kept pushing him to come out for some food and meet the friends I had made while away at college. That night we had our first ever fight, and it had pretty much set the tone for the trip the following day. I now know I should have been more understanding and thankful he was even doing this for me, but I was eighteen and to be honest, wasn't the sharpest crayon in the box.
The next day it was time to pack up the F150 (which I still couldn't pack all of my things in) and head on home. It had started to snow, and I had a feeling this trip would be a lot longer than 12 hours. I was already emotional that morning because while leaving High Point University was my decision, I had still made some great friends there and was sad to leave them. Not knowing if I would ever see them again was discouraging. I had started to cry early on in the car ride, and Josh was still heated from the night before. That being said, he was in no sympathetic mood. We had started to argue again, until I had literally just given up and fell asleep. Suddenly, the road trip that I had been looking forward to had turned into the road trip from hell that couldn't be over fast enough.
About five hours had gone by, and we decided to stop for food. The road conditions were awful, and it seemed people had suddenly forgot how to drive. While at the restaurant, Josh and I had finally come to a truce and said we would stop the stupid arguing. I finally thought the trip would be turning around, but of course, I was wrong. There was so much traffic, and right around New York it was already midnight...after being in the car for THIRTEEN HOURS. I thought I was going to cry I was so frustrated, but the worst was yet to come. About fourteen hours into our adventure, we both started to feel sick. We had both gotten the same chicken dish for dinner, and it appeared that made us sick. There is nothing worse than being stuck in a car..in traffic..and feeling like you're going to die.
Finally, 18 hours later...we made it back to my house in Rhode Island. It was literally the worst day of my life, between the arguing and getting sick. Not to mention, every time I would fall asleep and wake up, I'd feel like hours had gone by only to find out I was only asleep for about a half hour. I could never be comfortable for more than an hour at a time, and my satellite radio had expired while on the road so we didn't have good music half of the way. While I'm grateful Josh made the trip to get me, I'd have to say that's the last road trip I take with a boyfriend.
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