In other words, love is not a science. Today’s blog entry is on internet dating sites, eHarmony for example. So here is your disclaimer: Warning this blog entry may be offensive if you participate in internet dating sites and matchmaking services. Nicole is in no way claiming that your relationship will fail if it began with such a site, but she does have a very strong opinion about this issue. In this entry she will be delving into her opinion of these sites and therefore may be irritating or offensive in some way.

 

I’m not really sorry if this offends you, but honestly, how can anyone reduce love to a bunch of questions on a survey? And how on earth does a survey convey a person’s real personality? Love is not a formula or an equation. It’s when two hearts reach each other in some cosmic connection that runs so much deeper than that. It’s a sort of unity of souls. Yeah, yeah, sappy I know. But seriously folks, since when has love ever been as finite, unchanging, and perfectly logical as a math equation or scientific formula. Loving someone is rarely a logical and well thought out choice. Love is about say fuck logic and going with that tug that you feel when you see someone or hear their voice.

 

Deep compatibility… again with the survey and the perfect matches. Honestly opposites attract, a lot. Sometimes on the surface you have nothing in common, but deep down you just sort of fit. If you like everything your partner likes that’s great, except you will probably have absolutely nothing to talk about. Differences spark conversation, and they get you to learn new things. Just because two people answered some survey questions that say they are a match doesn’t mean they actually are. I’m fairly certain most couples I know wouldn’t be matched up if they both filled out one of those profiles. It just doesn’t jive at all.

 

“It forces you to be honest”: This is a direct quote from the commercials. How does that work? How does a website questionnaire make you do anything you don’t want to do? Does it hold a gun to your head and shout tell the truth or die? Does it wrap you in Wonder Woman’s Lasso of Truth? The answer is that it does none of this. Honestly, I have a theory, for every completely honest person who goes on that site and fills out the survey, there are at least ten who will lie. I mean, wouldn’t you want to say what you think someone would want to hear? It’s human nature to want to put the best foot forward especially when you are trying to impress a stranger or a potential ‘mate’. I watch those stupid commercials and wonder how many people have arranged a meeting with someone the site matched them with, only to be terribly disappointed and discover that their potential ‘match’ is not at all what they imagined them to be. For every happy couple, how many people are rejected or fail to meet a match. And how many psychos make profiles just to seek out potential victims? Forces you to be honest, my ass.

 

And finally, I may be a cynioc, but I believe in love. And love is not something that just ‘poofs’ in because you are matched on a website. You will not magically fall in love with a person the moment you meet them just because their answers fit your answers. Love comes from knowing a person and becoming close to a person. Surveys do not let you get to know a person. And surveys are just as bad as their ‘picture and a paragraph’ that they say is so terrible to use.

 

So that is my blog/rant on internet dating sites like eHarmony. I warned you that I didn’t think highly of those sites and that this blog would not be sunshine and daisies.

We are a rare breed, one that most don’t really understand. There is something about us that draws attention and fascinates those around us. But why? What is about us that makes us so unique and captivating? Wow, Nicole seems a little vain at the moment. Yeah, well I’ve just noticed that my drawl gets stronger every day, and I’m beginning to seem more and more southern. So let us just say that Nicole is embracing her roots and enjoying what little grace and charm she got from them.

 

Is it our drawl, that wonderful way words come out all slow and velvety smooth? Is it the way we call everyone things honey, darlin’, dear, and sweetheart without a second thought? Is it the fact we can make small talk about nothing or the way we drop our Gs? I don’t know what it is about us, but I know there must be something. It might be the way we make everyone feel welcome regardless, or it could be our smiles. Maybe it’s the accent and the fact that we can politely tell you that something is wrong, even when we’d rather be rude.

 

Or maybe it’s in our appearance. Is it perhaps that understated grace and beauty? Is the strand of pearls no southern girl is without? Or is it the fact that we will wear our pearls with jeans and boots. Is it the fact we can make a pair of torn up jeans and a t-shirt look lovely? Perhaps it’s the fact that the beauty seems so natural and easy. It could be the way we have a sort of effortless classy look at times. It’s possibly the way we are not afraid to get our hands dirty and get a little mud on our faces.

Perhaps it is our abilities in the kitchen? I mean we can cook up a storm, many of us, or at least pretend to. And every southern girl can make sweet tea. But I’m pretty sure that’s not what is so intriguing and fascinating about us.

 

Personally I think it is a combination of many things. I think it might be the drawl, and the way we smile. But I also think it’s our strength and courage. I think it’s the pride in who we are and the fact that we will fight like a cougar for what we love and what we believe in. It’s our hearts and our souls and our spirit. And as I type this I find my accent getting stronger. Funny, it’s something I’m always told I need to tone down. I’m quite proud of my drawl, and I let it show whenever possible. It does not make me stupid, and it does not make me a racist. Southern does not equal stupid, racist, and ignorant.

Almost sisters, best of friends
we shared the same hopes and dreams.
Nearly twins, they used to say,
might as well be joined at the hip.

 

What happened to change it all?
How did things go so wrong?
Why was there a split between us?
When did we grow apart?

 

We made so many promises,
and we made so many plans.
I intended to keep them all,
but you suddenly changed your mind.

 

Where did my almost sister vanish to?
Who are you, standing in her place?
What did you do with my best friend?
Why did she leave me behind?

 

I've lost my other half,
and I need her back so terribly.
I seem to have misplaced a sister,
and all I want is to find her again.

 

Will you ever open your eyes?
Can you ever see what you have done?
Do you ever feel the loss that I feel?
Have you ever wanted to make it undone?

 

Almost sisters, we used to say,
best friends forever more.
The future was so clear then
now it becomes a painful blur.

 

Do you miss me, my friend?
Do you know how much I miss you?
Are you aware of the hurt you caused?

Can you feel it too?

 

Come back to me
my sister, my friend.
Return things to the way they were
and let's make it right again.

 

Inseparable friends,
pinky swears, and wishes
that was so very long ago.
And everyday I want it back.

 

This poem is written about some things that are going on in my family, and it centers, obviously, on someone who used to be very, very close to me. I'm so angry with her right now, and I have been for a long time. But I still miss her a great deal, and would do anything to get things back to the way they were.

So Saturday night Kenny and I went to see Beowulf. Yes the crazy Nicole went to see yet another guy flick with her boyfriend, but I guess that means that I’ll get to go see a chick flick later. It was fun, even if the movie wasn’t the best I’ve seen in a while. So I suppose I can give you a brief review of the movie and then talk about the rest of the night.

 

Would I recommend that you see Beowulf? Well, maybe. It depends on what you like in movies. The 3D was OK; there were a few really great scenes and effects. Like the monsters and stuff. This is definitely not a movie to take your little kids to, though. Parts of it were a bit graphic, especially Grendel’s attacks. There was also some nudity and lewd comments that were definitely adult oriented. They actually didn’t screw up the story as bad as I thought they would. It was the original epic with a twist, that sort of gave the old story a new kick. But it’s not a great movie. I sort of laughed at the people who were screaming, while I did jump occasionally, nothing was especially scary to me.

 

At the theatre we sat for an hour and a half because we were too late for the showing we were going to catch and too early for the next one. So we people watched, and Kenny and I chatted with an older couple. There were a lot of high schoolers there and it made me feel old. I’m only 20, but all these kids looked like they were 12. And some of them were dressed in ways that made me want to smack them. Why would anyone do some of the things they did to their bodies. As Kenny pointed out, they all look the same, even the guys look just like the girls, and the funny thing is, they were trying to stand out I guess. And you could tell who was there for a date and who was there with just a group of friends. It was sort of funny to listen to Kenny analyse all the people. He’d point out couples on their first date and this one group that were either double dating or the guys were sort of ‘marking their territory’ for later. All in all it was a good night of lots of fun and distractions.

And so Nicole feels that it is time for her annual thankful post. This is going to be one of those warm and fuzzy posts about what is good in my life; so enjoy it because posts of this nature are really rare around here. I know I complain a lot, and I’ll admit I can be down right bitchy, but I really do have a great deal to be thankful for.

 

I’m thankful for my family. Even when my mother is being overbearing, my father is being a jerk, and my brother is being annoying, I love them very much. I’m lucky my mom cares and I’ll always be my daddy’s little girl. He may pick on me and seem mean, but that’s just his way of being affectionate. When it comes down to the the line, my dad will always look after me. My kid brother is an annoying little urchin, but he’s also the greatest kid sometimes. I will always have his back and he has mine. And then there is my totally crazy extended family. I have my Grandmother and Nanny, but I’ve lost my Papa and Pa. I’m so thankful to have those two wonderful women in my life. And I love all my aunts and uncles and cousins for their weird and wacky ways. And I’m very lucky to have my Grandmama, who survived a series of TIAs this summer. That was one of the scariest things I’d ever faced. I don’t know what I would’ve done if we had lost her. I’m so thankful that God was looking out and helped her survive.

 

There’s another person who should definitely not be forgotten. I’ve really been blessed because I found Kenny. He’s been my rock when things have been rough, when I’ve had troubles, and when I’ve needed someone to let me cry. He makes me laugh through my  He’s the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I want to be his forever if he’ll have me.  I’m hopeless in love with him, and I’m truly lucky that he loves me too. This guy is one of those once in a life time guys who few people are lucky to find.  And we are such an unlikely couple. The Southern Belle and the Yankee; the tomboy and the prince. But we work, and that’s all that matters.

 

And I’m thankful for all the opportunities I’ve been given. I’m a college student and I have the chance to go to law school. I can do mock trial and I can drive. I’m grateful that I live in a country where I’m not kept at home because I’m female. I may not come from a wealthy family, but we have what we need.  Our family survives and doesn’t really struggle.

 

I’m really lucky, and today I remind myself of that.

 

♥Happy Thanksgiving to everyone!♥

The other day in my political status of women course we were talking about culture and relativism and the way it effects basic human rights especially for women. There is a culture in Africa where being a 'large' women is considered attractive. This means that young women are taken into huts and beaten and forced to eat and drink until they are the right size for men to find attractive. There were many people in the class who were appalled by this, myself included, because these girls have no choice at all. But Dr. Petersen, our professor, said something that struck a chord in my mind, and I think she is entirely correct. She said, "We do the same thing to our own children, our daughters, except our stick is the media, and we beat into them the idea of perfection from an early age."

 

It makes sense; you just have to think about it. Look at the women on television, the teen idols for girls. Young girls have role models like the Olsen twins, Brittney Spears, Lindsay Lohan, and many other stars who have too many problems to count. The images they are bombarded with are those of thin, 'flawless', women in tight fitting clothing showing off lots of skin. Perfection is shown as skinny, and beauty is skewed as if to say that if you aren't tiny you aren't attractive. It's no wonder that eating disorders are so prevalent. Young women feel they must starve themselves to be pretty enough and acceptable. Heavier people are always depicted as the butt of the joke, the unpopular characters. Pretty thin girls are the popular, well-liked characters.Think of the message you are sending your children when you allow them to take what they see on television and in the media and apply to real life as if it were the only truth. "Be thin and pretty and you will be loved." That is the message that the media is sending young girls.

 

And let's take it beyond that. Have you seen the Halloween costumes and toys for young girls these days? Girls dress up as a 'sexy pop diva' or 'sexy cowgirl' at the age of eight. It's ridiculous. Little girls running around in skimpy costumes that show way too much skin. What are these parents thinking? And don't tell me it's harmless fun either. There is serious harm in allowing your daughter to run around scantily clad pretending to be a 'pop princess'. The message you are sending is one that fundamentally objectifies women. You are teaching them that it's OK to allow yourself to be judged on what you wear and how you look. This teaches them that women aren't smart, strong, and independent; this teaches them from an early age that women are sex objects. And to add idiocy to the moronic, give your child a Bratz doll. These dolls with their over done make up and skimpy clothing is sending the same message. And not only that you also have Bratz Kidz and Bratz Big Babyz, two more dolls that encourage young girls to be solely concerned with being a 'diva'.

 

I know what you are thinking now. Why is Nicole so concerned with this stuff? She sounds like a grouchy, bitter, feminazi. Well maybe I'm just a little disturbed by the fact that we are teaching our daughters that all that matters is image, make up, clothes, and being thin. Maybe I'm thrown off by the fact that eating disorders become more prevalent everyday because young girls are convinced that in order to be loved they have to be thin and beautiful. Frankly folks I think that it's bull shit, and it's time for a change.

You know you are a redneck tomboy when you have moments when you either think or say out loud "Damn, I'm such a girl" or "Oh my god, I'm such a girl" and if they happen to you fairly frequently, perhaps I should explain myself for you first time readers. Nicole is not very feminine most of the time. In fact, Kenny often has to remind her that she is a girl and that its OK that she is. It comes from the fact that I've lived most of my life as just one of the guys. I have very few female friends, at least close female friends. I have a few from mock, but none I'm close to. That has other implications that I'll get to later. Most of my close friends are guys. Dash, Jonathan, Mike, the Freshman, the list goes on. So it stands to reason that I'm not used to being all girly.

 

Regular daily attire for me is a regular shirt, jeans, tennis shoes, and a hoodie. I wear light, very light, make-up, and the most I do to my hair is straighten it. Mascara and eyeliner are only for special occasions and mock trial, and I only wear the make up to cover my really terrible skin recently. I almost have to straighten my hair to make it manageable, but it almost always gets pulled into a pony tail by the end of the day. Honestly at the moment I'm at my most comfortable. I'm wearing jeans, tennis shoes, a t-shirt from my high school AP US History class, and my college hoodie. I've got minimal make-up on and just some lip balm due to the fact that my lips are really dry and I can't deal with chapped lips.

 

As a result of my non-girliness, I'm rarely noticed by those of the male persuasion. That's no big deal considering I captured the attention of the one guy I wanted to notice. However it was surprising, and it never ceases to amaze me that he finds me attractive and tells me I'm beautiful. But for the most part I'm still treated as one of the guys and I guess that's fine. I rarely get hit on, which is not a big deal except when I feel like the 'ugly friend' or something. It's not that I want to be hit on, I am taken and all, it's just that it's weird to be the girl no one notices.

 

With me things are changing though. I'm getting slightly more girly. I guess I could give that credit to Kenny. I worry about what I look like more often, and I even wore a skirt yesterday, which is a rare occurence. I'm trying to get into shape, and I'm trying to loose some of this weight. I don't want to be the fat chick forever. I'm not sure how much I like the fact that I'm getting more girly or if it's a good thing at all. I think that part of this change also comed from the fact that in the courtroom being a woman is a big deal. I'm so used to being judged based on how good I am that I get major league pissed when someone judges me on my gender. Does that make sense?

 

So I'm getting used to the fact that I'm a chick, and I will be treated like one. It's like the fact that the guys are more careful around me lately. I don't like it, but I know why it happens. It's because they've finally noticed that I'm a girl. I'm less a part of the group because I lack the sufficient amount of testosterone, and they don't feel comfortable joking around me like they used to. It makes me a little upset because I feel as though they see me as if I've become a different person, and I'm haven't. But I'll get used to it.

This post has been anyway. It’s a fairly late post considering that the subject begins with the return of the love of my life, which happened in mid October. But I’ve been caught up in so much work that the very thought of doing extensive blogging has been a negative idea. Mock trial, class, home life, everything, has been building up. I’ve finished one of my large papers and so I’m taking the time to another real entry.

 

No this glow is not radiation. Kenny has returned, for good this time. Words cannot express how happy that makes me. I know what you’re thinking. Wait didn’t she say that he wasn’t returning until late November? I did, and I suppose that I should actually explain that situation now. Apparently there was this grand scheme to convince me that he was not coming back until late November and then to surprise me by actually arriving early. Now you must bear in mind that several of our friends were all in on it. I was frightfully embarrassed and thrilled to see him all at once. I mean honestly it had to be one of the most well pulled plots I had ever had pulled against me. In light of this, a great deal of time has been spent with him since his return.

 

We talk on the phone and text message constantly. I know, we’re such high school kids. But you have to keep in mind it has been two years, and we are a couple in love. Kenny is dead set on making up for lost time, and I’m all for that idea. We’ve gone to see a couple of movies, gone out to lunch, gone on ‘moonlight tours’ of the new house that’s not quite finished, driven to Franklin several times, curled up on his couch watching a movie, and anything else we can think of. His birthday is tomorrow and we are going to spend the day together. I’ll freeze my ass off in that skirt, but hey, I rarely wear a skirt, and his birthday is a good reason. I’m so glad I have Thursdays off this semester. I wish I could do my schedule like this again, but of course there is no way in hell it will work out that way again. Anyway back to the subject at hand.

 

You’d think his return would be too much of a distraction for me. That because we have been apart for so long that I would have difficulty concentrating on classes and the like. However you would be thinking incorrectly. Kenny has become something of an inspiration, in addition to giving me occasional trouble with word salad, and it is because of them I have more drive. I’ve been working twice as hard on my papers so that they will be finished in time to go see him, and I get excited as each paper and exam is complete, one more step to the completion of my undergraduate degree and closer to my law school degree. I’m beyond happy that he’s back. I’m practically ecstatic to have him here in the Boro.

 

Words cannot describe how much I care about him and love him. I hate it when our dates end because it means that we have to go home to our separate houses. Eventually that will all change and we won’t have to do that. One of these days we’ll just move in together, no matter how much certain individuals I know disapprove of such actions. He says we’ll just call it a long engagement because we probably won’t get married until after I finish law school.

 

In conclusion: I love him, I love him, I love him. He’s back, he’s back, he’s back.

I don’t get it. I mean I guess I sort of do, but not really. We women want equality. We want to be judged not on the fact we have boobs, can wear skirts that display our legs, and can bear children, but on our merits, our intelligence, our strengths. Then why is it that some women insist on using their appearance and femininity to manipulate men. How dare you demean those of your gender who are fighting so damn hard to be accepted as humans and equals. The struggles we put up with are ridiculous: stereotypes, sexism, gender socialization, discrimination. And you only assist the matter any hen you further these ideas with you stupidity. Women do not need you to make things any more difficult than they already are. The point is that if you want to be treated as an equal stop using your gender to gain special treatment. I’m all for looking good, being flirty, and things of that nature, but I can’t stand how some women use their gender as a way to manipulate and use men.

 

Ladies, and I use this term loosely at the moment, please get a grip. Your breasts are not a weapon or a tool. The fact you are attractive is not a bargaining chip. You legs are not a powerful and useful item that allows you to make men do whatever you want. Trust me, you are a disgrace if you do this at all. Stop using your body to get you free drinks. Stop using your looks to make some guy go fetch what you want. Have some class.

 

I suppose you are wondering what brought this entry. Well, the time for the MTSU Invitational rolled around, and it was this weekend. It was a good tournament, really. The team came out 4-4 and Cory got an attorney award. However the round that will be forever in my mind was round two. It was a good round, except for a few things that really ticked me off. Randi and I are the two female attorneys at the table, and we were defense. When we went for the break after prosecution’s case in chief the first thing that came out of two of our teammates mouths was “man, you two were way too aggressive, they were so nice and you were so mean.” Bear in mind that these two are playing witnesses, and that the witnesses Randi and I crossed were being evasive and we’d tried being nice before that. I’m sorry but those who solely play witnesses should not lecture to those who play attorneys on both sides. They have no idea how hard it is to walk the fine line between too harsh and just controlling the witness.

 

If that wasn’t bad enough, our judges spent ten minutes, plus or minus some time, berating Randi and I about being overly aggressive, especially for being females. I mean honestly, the witnesses were being evasive, rambling, and taking our questions out of context. We had to do something or it would kill my closing. So we started out politely and asked them to refer back to the question we had asked. But when that didn’t work, we began to get a bit stronger, until finally we stopped the witness from rambling by cutting them off. Apparently that made Randi and I over aggressive bitches and the judges hated us. But when the male attorneys acted in the same way they were praised for being aggressive and assertive. I’ll be damned if I’m going to let a witness walk all over me, and be a passive doormat.

"Fashion is a form of ugliness so intolerable that we have to alter it every six months." -Oscar Wilde

 

So this may seem shallow and stupid, but today's post is about clothes and fashion. Lucky is still a chick at heart and sometimes she feels the need to let it show. I've noticed that recently the new fashion for girls my age is ridiculously familiar, and it really annoys me. Why, you ask. Allow me to explain myself.

 

I was out shopping the other day and came to the sudden realization that all the things I used to wear in high school are now cool and stylish. Now these are the things I used to wear and get made fun of for wearing them. I used to wear kimono sleeve shirts, and I was ridiculed because I looked like I had wings on my arms. Now they are cool and considered cute. Too bad I tossed most of mine when I got tired of them. I'm pretty sure I could still wear some of them. I used to wear zip up sweatshirts all the time. And even pushed the sleeves up. That got me picked on for looking like a grungy dork. I still wore them for the sheer comfort factor. Now they are in style and people think I wear them because I want to be cool and trendy. I'm not a trend follower at all, but that's my label if I keep dressing the way I do.

 

No, Nicole isn't going to change her look because style dictates it. She'll just face facts and be herself.

 

While on this subject I have another topic that gets to me. Again this is brought on by some experiences I had with shopping. I was in the store and noticed these two little girls, maybe eleven or so, and was appalled that their parents let them leave the house dressed the way they were dressed. They were wearing clothes that I've seen on my fellow college students and even then I find them unattractive. Tiny mini skirts with leggings under them, by tiny I mean so short that one false move shows everything. Shorts so short that they might as well not have them on at all and tank tops that showed most of their mid drifts. And I actually saw one of them putting on bright red lipstick. Clearly the message we are sending kids is way off kilter somewhere. They want clothes that say things like 'juicy', '2 hot 4 U', 'your boyfriend thinks I'm cute', and various other phrases that ten to eleven year old girls should not even know. Why don't people think for a change. I want to scream and then start smacking people when I see these little girls dressed in clothes a high school or college girl would wear. It's just ridiculous.

 

And a final note which may or may not be offensive to some one who reads this blog. What it so sexy about a guy wearing girl's pants? Honestly, I don't find the fact a guy can squeeze himself into a pair of tiny girl's jeans remotely attractive. In fact it disturbs me in a few ways. Serious damage could be done to the human body if you do that to it. Does that even occur to them? Or is that what makes them so hardcore? Me, I just want to look at them and shout 'hey, get the hell out of my pants' at the top of my lungs. It is not flattering in the least on a guy to see him shoved into clothes that are way too tight. It's slightly repulsive.

 

Well thats the end of my little rant on clothing and style. If you were in any way offended, oh well, I do not write my blog to be politically correct or fuzzy. I tell the truth.

What do you do when the fairy tale
doesn’t turn out quite how you hoped?
How do you deal with an ending
that just isn’t what you planned?

 

How do you fix the mistakes you made
in learning how to love?
What happens when the things you know
aren’t exactly what they seemed?

 

What do you do when happily ever after fails
When your knight in shining armor is late?
Can you save yourself in the end
or will you be a victim of fate?

 

Does it mean that everything is fake
that nothing is even real?
Does it mean you can’t believe in
fairy tales and promises?

 

What if the rose wilts and fades?
What if the shoe doesn’t fit at all?
What if his kiss doesn’t make you wake?
What if your prince only falls?

 

What do you do when happily ever after fails
When your knight in shining armor is late?
Can you save yourself in the end
or will you be a victim of fate?

 

Maybe you don’t need him
or his kiss and his blade.
Maybe you don’t need that shoe
maybe you can just escape.

 

Fairy tales and promises

aren’t all there is to life.
Truth and hope bring victory
and they can save your life.

Sometimes it so hard to deal with everything at once. I mean I hate how everyone wants something from me and I barely have time to deal with my own life. It is important to me that I am able to help people, and I don’t mind giving a little advice every now and again. But sometimes a girl needs time to work out her own stuff. I’m so busy fixing everyone else’s problems, but who is going to listen and fix mine. I’m a big girl; I can deal with my own issues, except that I never have time to do it. I’ve got to handle Mock Trial and homework; I have to take care of stuff around the house. I’m listening to everyone's problems and trying my damnedest to solve them so no one goes crazy or freaks out. But I do have my own problems.

 

Take the fact that I’m in a serious long distance relationship, and I really love him. But we never get to talk because he is always at work or asleep because he works so much. No one get’s that, ever, they all want to judge and go nuts on me. I’m sick of the doubts and the snide comments. ‘Are you sure he isn’t cheating?’ Yes I’m pretty sure. ‘Why don’t you find someone closer?’ No one else can get any closer considering the fact Kennny takes up all of my heart and soul. Its really hard to go through life in love with a person you can’t see. No one ever thinks about that.

 

And for about five minutes I’d like to not think about the rest of the world. Nicole hasn’t had any ‘just herself’ time in a while. I haven’t slowed down long enough to do more than eat and half sleep. This is no way to live. I want to have time when it’s just relax and do nothing. I want to take the time to look pretty, not just decent for class or mock trial, but really pretty. After everything I think I’m owed that. Nicole hasn’t always looked tired and worn out. Sometimes she was fairly attractive for a plain girl who need to lose some weight. I mean the most me time I’ve had is a hot shower and maybe a little blogging. This is just crazy.

Well it’s the first day of a new semester and the first thing I learned is that going from class to class every monday, wednesday, and friday is going to give me a hell of a workout, especially considering that I was stupid/smart enough to have all four classes on three days and I have to drag around my bag containing at least four books and my laptop, my notebook, and variuous other items all over hell and half of Georgia. I mean I have to walk from the blazer across to the KUC for breakfast since the new diet is in it’s cleansing stages and I have to have a fruit smoothie for breakfast, then back to the BAS. In the BAS it’s up two flights of stairs to class and the back down two to head to the next ones. I then walk to PH, the devil’s maze, and up a flight of stairs for one class then up another for the next one. Then I’m back at the KUC for who knows what for lunch, which is a two hour break. From there it’s the KOM and up at least a flight of stairs for the last class of the day. When the day finally ends I have to walk all the way across campus to the blazer and head home.

 

Campus looks like someone dumped the entire high school population of the county on top of it, and it’s so crowded that I can barely breathe. This is insane. I went to lunch and stood in line for thirty minutes just to get some food then fifteen more to pay for it. It’s a good thing I have that long break between classes or I’d never get time to eat. I just hope that things thin out when all. the freshman and transfer students figure out what’s going on and where they are going. You can tell who is new because they walk around with maps in front of their faces. I spent a great deal of time pointing out buildings and giving directions. 

 

Classwise the schedule goes something like this:
The Legal Environment of Business 9:10-10:05 I have a bad feeling about this class. I think it may be like that terrible Economics class I had in highschool that made me want to die. The professor seems to be a little weird and we’re going to have to do things like group projects and stuff. The midterm review is going to be a game. I just hope that the course material ios enough to keep me engaged and paying attention.
US Presidency 10:20-11:15 Patrick’s class, though I suppose I’ll have to call him Mr. Chinnery or Mr. C. I think I’ll like that class, it seems like it’s going to be a good one to take. I’m at least somewhat excited about that course.
Folk and Fairy Tales, Myths and Legends 11:30-12:25 Dr. Hixon looks sort of crazy, but other than the stupid group project thing I think that the class is going to be fun. I talked to a few people who had her and turns out she’d really great.
The Political Status of Women 2:20-3:45 Dr. Peterson is really cool; I’ve had her before and really liked her class. She’s sarcastic and a smartass but I think that may be why I like her so much. Not a fan of the group project thing, but I’ll live. I just wish she’d allow the use of laptops to take notes since I type faster than I write sometimes.

Back to school.

 

So this is my first entry on phusebvox of this semester. And on my new laptop. Anyway not much to report yet.

 

Nicole

I apologize ahead of time for this rant, but I'm going just a little bit crazy here.

 

I appreciate the advice, but they don’t know everything. They don’t know what I’m feeling, how I’m handling this, what’s going on in my heart and mind. They think they know so much; they think they are so damn smart. Maybe if they’d open their eyes, open their minds, and pay attention, then they’d know something. They all think they know so much. It would surprise them to find out just how little they know.

 

People keep saying that I should find another guy, one who lives in TN, one I can see often. Oh sure, I’ll just fall out of love with Kenny and in love with someone else. I’ll just shut down my emotions, turn off my heart. Yeah, I’ll do that so all you people will be happy. Ha, yeah right. It’s not that simple, nor do I want it to be. I love him, and when you morons all get used to that, life will be so much better. I’m so sick of this stupidity. I made my choice and I’m sticking to it. I followed my heart, and, regardless of the complications and difficulties that come with it, I let it lead me to him. I’m happy, even when I’m miserable, and that should be enough to make you see. It’s not the fact that he’s not here that keeps me from going out and doing things. It’s the fact that there is nothing to do in this town.

 

What is driving me insane is the fact that these people think that I’m too young to be in love. They think that I don’t know what love is. I’m pretty sure I know what love is by now. It’s waiting for over two years for a guy who moved to another state and having all the faith in the world that he’s coming back and that he’s true. It’s the feeling of completion you get when you're in his arms and he holds you. It’s when you realize that nothing in the world can ever take the place of being with him. It's realizing that things are going to be hard, and going through it all anyway. It’s something you can’t explain because it doesn’t make sense. I’m in love and have known it for over two years, and you can’t tell me I’m not. My mom is one of those people who thinks I’m too young, but she’s one to talk. She was my age when she fell in love with my dad, married him, and had me. She was nineteen.

 

A lot of people around me are getting married. Three girls I graduated from high school with, last year mock trial president {married last fall}, my best friend all through grade school and part of high school {married already}, my cousin Ben. It’s crazy really, and has got me thinking. They all know that if I get married I’ll forget my dreams and give up on my plans to go to law school. They all know that it would destroy everything I’ve worked for. Surprise, surprise, they know nothing. Kenny knows how important my dreams are to me, and he supports me. Pretty sure he would never let me give up on them. They act as though all I am is intelligence and future plans; they don’t see past the fact that I’m in college. Honestly, they seem to think the whole family hinges on my finishing law school and becoming an attorney, that my whole life should be devoted to that. But it’s my life and I’m going to live it my way on my terms. I’m going to keep loving Kenny, and I’m going to keep being faithful and waiting.

Anyone who knows me well knows I hate this hat. Its one of Kenny's favorite hats, and he knows how much I can't stand it. I've threatened to do serious damage to this hat before. But now this hat means a great deal to me. I'm holding it until October, when he moves back for good. You see he came to visit last week because his nephew was born wednesday morning. There is nothing like opening your front door at midnight to find the person you love on your doorstep. Well, I did find that. He left for VA Sunday morning, but before he did he made a stop by my house to say bye. I walked outside and said "You're leaving me again." He told me he'd be back. I said it again, "But you're leaving me again andI'll miss you." He pulled me into a hug and for a laugh said "I'm wearing that hat you hate." Then he took it off and put it on my head. He told me to hold it until he got back to claim it. So the hat I hate became a promise that he'd return, and now it means more than anything. Who knows, maybe I'll learn to like it after all.

It’s so hard these days, to keep my chin up and smile, to pretend the distance isn’t killing me. Because it is. It’s driving me crazy all the time. I miss him, and I can’t change the fact that we are 567 miles apart. And yes I’ve calculated the distance. It’s not that far, but it feels like he is on the other side of the world. He’s coming to visit in October, or at least that’s the plan as of now, but that’s months away. It hurts. It hurts so damn much, and I can’t show it.

If I show it, people doubt, and people question. And I don’t want that. I can’t stand it when people constantly question him and our relationship. I swear, I’m so sick of people asking me whether I believe he’s true, because if I didn’t why would I stick with him for over two years. And I’m tired of being told that I need to find a guy in this state. I have a guy, and I love him. Distance or no distance, I love him, and I’m going to wait for him. Why can’t people just have a little faith and let things be?

I used to have this confidence; it rarely wavered and made me strong. I used to not care about the scars that mark my body, said they gave me character. I once didn't worry about the callouses on my hands and the roughness of my skin in places. I wasn't bothered by the tanlines and I didn't overstress about the weight I'm desperately trying to lose.

 

But it's gone now. I worry and dislike my appearance. The scars and tanlines bother me more now. I'm self-conscious about my skin, my weight. Sometimes even my accent, which I adore, bothers me. I hate this, the worry and the stress. But the confidence is all but gone now, and I can't find it anymore.

So today is June 6th. It is the 63rd anniversary of D-Day. And so I bow my head in prayer and thanks for the men who lost their lives on those beaches and the men who succeed and survived.

 

I firmly believe that when you take a picture and capture a moment on film, you stop time, and that moment never ends. That is why I like to take and keep photographs; it is my way of preserving things so that I don’t lose them.I know the pictures in this entry are of flowers but it was the best I had, and they are really pretty. But they do make my point as well. These two flowers are in bloom and were in bloom yesterday. But soon they will fade away and the blooms will be gone. But these pictures will stay the same. The blooms are there forever.

 

I know it may seem crazy, but here is my reasoning. In a photo subjects are in a position permanently. They don’t move; they don’t change or disappear. So it holds the memory forever in place. That means that though in the outside world, time keeps going and wipes things away; in pictures they last forever and do not change at all. Isn’t it possible that we possess the power to stop time and prevent it from destroying things as it passes? I argue that a good photographer possesses the power to save a moment forever.

 

 

This is rather interesting. I'm not sure what I think of the new phusebox yet. I guess I'll just have to wait and see won't I?  But I would like to know how to delelte pictures because for some strange reason it uploaded two of my pictures as black squares, and I know they were actual photos.

Gravitation is not responsible for people falling in love.  ~Albert Einstein

So yeah today is the second anniversary for Kenny and me... huzzah we have lasted this long.

OK so apparently Kenny can rewrite history. Well actually he just clarified history and totally screwed up my dates and such. Yesterday was Easter {le duh} and so I went to the home of my cousin James and his wive Tanya's house for the annual celebration. We had ham and stuff, I stalked everyone with my camera, my mom stalked me with my camera, and then we went out and hunted Easter eggs. While I was out stalking the hunters with my camera, I missed a phone call from Kenny {le boo} and he left a cute message. Anyways about ten last night he calls back and we had the first real conversation in months.

This brings me to the rewriting of history and such. We talked for an hour and a half, and he managed to score 5 points to my 1, rewrite history, and inform me that it was inevitable that we will get married because he had recurring dreams about it. All this while we laughed and talked for the first time in ages and I began to feel better than ever. I have missed him so much lately, and I love him with all my heart. We were talking about all the notes that we had passed {Because I am strange and have them in a box}, and I found one where he was asking me all these questions that I wouldn't answer. I had been playing this game with a deck of playing cards where you ask te cards yes or no questions and depending on what suit you get that is the answer and I wouldn't tell him what I was asking. That took us to the subject of memory and Prom and our first kiss. And from there he rewrote history because was one of the questions I asked the cards was this "Was he just a good friend I could get away with kissing?" Apparently the answer was "yes as in my boyfriend." At last history is set straight. Our anniversary in actually April 23, as in 2005 and the night of my senior prom which means I celebrated on the wrong day a month early and shorted us a year. Strange huh?

This rewriting of history means that all my dates are off, sadly enough my father was right, and the summer, fall, winter of 2005 and the part of the spring of 2006 was absolutely terrible and painful for no reason. My dad had been declaring that Kenny was my boyfriend since Prom and I of course didn't know that he was and therefore adamantly denied it. But he was in fact right and Kenny wants me to make sure that I tell him so and that he know it was him who made him right. Obviously all my dates are wrong because we have been together two years not just a little over one. And as for that period of time, if you read back on some old blog entries you can see what I mean. I went through total hell trying to figure out what we were and thinking I would never be with him and wouldn't you know it… I had him. Sometimes I get so confused.

This Nicole… she looks angry and grouchy… this is what she looks like when she discovers that she has to buy a whole side-view mirror for her blazer because someone knocked the glass out and then the piece that the glass attaches to fell out on her way to campus this morning.

So here is what happened: My mom somehow managed to her hit the driver's side side-view mirror with her shoulder the earlier. She hit it pretty hard because her shoulder has been really sore ever since and yesterday my kid brother found the glass in the driveway where it had fallen out the night before. Apparently the guy I bought it from a year ago knocked the glass out and reattached it with regular silicone, meaning it wasn't very secure in the first place. So I had to drive the damn thing with no side-view mirror yesterday and planned on going to Advanced to get adhesive today. But that would just be too easy.

I was on my way down 96 when I noticed the mirror looked odd, like something was missing, but sometimes I'm just paranoid about my blazer. So I take it to the car wash cause I'm running early and my father was refusing to work on it until I got it washed and it desperately needs an O2 sensor and spark plugs put in it. The thing is getting 13  miles to the gallon when it should be getting 22 and that's really bad considering that gas was $2.51at Walmart with a gift card.

But then I get to campus and realize that something is off, the outer cover for the mirror is hanging off and I get out to fix it after I park. That's when I realize there is piece missing. I got the glass out and tried to put it back, just to make sure I can, and it didn't go back. So when I get home I've got to call Averrit's and pray they have a side-view mirror that fits my blazer and it they don't I have to call Pelham's and pray they do. Then tomorrow morning I get to go get one and put it on. Not cool.