I am so fucking lonely.

I HATE BEING SICK

I usually get sick about twice a year, once in the winter and once in the summer. And by sick I mean a head cold. I very rarely get the flu or get hangovers so most of the time I'm feeling fit as a fiddle. I hadn't gotten my biannual cold just yet and I think it was because I live by rubbing Vick's VapoRub all over the bottom of my feet and putting socks on when I go to bed. If I feel like I'm just getting a little bit sick, doing this usually makes me feel a hundred times better the next morning. This time I procrastinated a little bit and it has been the biggest mistake of my life.

I woke up Friday morning feeling like poop. My throat was sore and my nose was so stuffed up. Usually nothing stops me from my daily trip to the gym at the University, but I felt absolutely disgusting, and none of the water spray bottles that they scatter around the gym would be able to disinfect any of the germs that I left behind. Although, it would have been nice to sweat out this thing. So for the past couple of day's I have neglected my workouts in hopes of getting healthier but to no avail. This stupid cold seems to be getting worse.

And Netipotting hasn't helped.

This year I agreed to spend my Reading Week house/dog sitting for some family members as they went on their annual trip to Mexico. I was fortunate enough to go with them last year, and I had a blast drinking tequila and getting sunburns by the pool. I don't mind housesitting because it allows me time to myself. I don't really get much living at home, so it'll be nice to sit and relax for a little over a week.

I've been here for a few days already and I've had a blast. I'm definitely not as lonely as I thought I would be. The only downside is the dog barking non-stop at 5 in the morning on a daily basis, and having to clean up some dog vomit.

The one thing that being by myself has made me realize, is how ready I am to move out of my parents house and out on my own. I've been fortunate enough to have my parents pay for all of my education-including text books and school supplies-but I have to live at home. I'm very lucky that they've helped me out so far, because I know I wouldn't be able to do it on my own. I'll have to live at home for about another 2 years it seems, until I graduate. It's been great not having to pay for food, gas, among other things, but I'm getting to a point in my life where I'm craving independence. I try my best to pay for as much of my own things as I can, but working a minimum paying job less than 20 hours a week is making it tough. Not to mention a hefty chunk of my paycheck goes towards my alcohol habit.

I think my house would definitely be a party house. For sure.

DANCE DANCE

Friday night I had my first Karaoke experience. I was excited, but I was being the designated driver, so I wasn't really planning on going up and singing. I get pretty bad stage fright, which is one of the reasons that I never auditioned for any of the plays in high school. Besides, I think Karaoke is a event that works best when intoxicated. Not just me, but mostly the people who have to endure my singing.

I was planning on working up some courage and finally going up to sing towards the latter portion of the evening, but my mood was RUINED when a drunken native decided it would be a good idea to continuously hit my arm, cop a feel and tell me to "MAKE IT HAPPEN." That wasn't the first time I was groped by a strange man, but this definitely made me feel dirty. I wanted to go home and take a shower. He was eventually kicked out of the bar, but managed to make his way back inside another two or three times. At this point, I just wanted to sit their, with my arms crossed over my chest and frown for the remainder of the evening. Buuuuuut instead of being a Debby Downer, I made my best attempt to not look like a depressed middle ager.

I decided I wasn't going to sing at all. I couldn't settle on a song and it was nervewracking. And then someone who had to leave before they could perform (KYLIE >:( ) decided to tell everyone that I had to be the one who took over and sang their song.

When I heard the DJ call my name I'm pretty sure I had a mini heartattack. Thankfully Heather D. was gracious enough to make the beginning a Heather duet so I was able to relax a little bit. So, I sang Rebel Yell, and I felt like a fool. But at least my karaokee virginity is gone. Along with my sense of security at Blue Quill Pub. haha

I've come to the conclusion that all guys are the same. Not in personality or looks, but in the fact that they all seem to believe in one simple equation:

Compliments + Sentimentality = Clear way into the pants.

You can tell me that I'm beautiful all you want (even though I despise compliments), or tell me how you can't believe that guys have never thought about "doing that with me" (referring to my lack of sexual activity), but don't think that because of this I'm going to bend over and let you have your way with me. It's not going to get you any action. Especially if I've never shown any kind of interest in you before. It especially bothers me that guys seem to think that because I'm a virgin, I'm just willing to go out and get 'er done. Sorry boys, but that's just not the way I want things to get done. I don't necessarily think love and sex are exclusive, but there definitely should be some sort of trust and commitment established before approaching the situation for the first time. If that wasn't the case, I'm sure I would have gotten it over with in high school or picked up a random from the bar.

I'm not ashamed to admit to being a virgin, but it does bug me when people just assume that I'm not, even though they know I've never been in a relationship. I know this is hypocritical, but I hate being judged, or when people make assummptions about certain parts of my life.

I'm even more skeptical about dating than most girls, because I know a lot of guys are interested in sexual relationships, and I'm forced to find a good guy that will stick around until I'm ready, instead of brushing me off.

It's 3 PM on a Wednesday and I am exhausted. My Gma (grandma for those of you not in the know) stayed at my house last night. This morning she hopped on a plane to Costa Rica, where she will be hanging out at the mansion that my Aunt and Uncle own for the next month. Both her an my mom were up at 2:30 this morning to inhale some caffeine and make sure that my mom would be able to get my Gma to the airport in enough time to make it through customs. I'm a relatively light sleeper. Most nights I wake up at least once if not more, but I'm usually pretty good at falling back asleep. Anyways, so this morning lights go on and the ladies are up and I wake up. Naturally, I roll over and I try to go back to sleep, but I can hear them conversing downstairs. I was in bed for an hour and a half trying to fall asleep but no dice. The clock struck four, they went to the airport and I went downstairs to see if perhaps I'd have an easier time of sleeping on the couch. But I couldn't sleep, and decided that my time this morning was better merited watching House and eating leftover pizza. My mom got home around 5:30 and thats when I made the decision not to go to school today. I've been working out hardcore the past few days, working, and I had a long day ahead of me at school. I would not be able to make it on 2 horus of sleep and if I did go I'd have to hit the gym. I considered possibly going to my 3 o'clock ASTRO class, only so I could stay and hit the street party on campus where the Olympic Torch was going to pass by, but even with sleeping on and off from 7-12 I'm sitting here way too exhausted to do anything productive with my day, so instead I'll sit here, watch some movies and blog.

It's thirteen days into 2010 and the only thing different about this year so far is that I've been hitting the gym and started new classes. I think on my first blog I talked about starting to date and how I was going to make an effort. This is a big fail. The only guy who's shown a bit of interest is someone who's brother I might have kissed during the su It'mmer. That is a recipe for awkwardness in my books. I'm a good wingman, so maybe I need to take a page out of my wingman book and apply it to my own life. It's still early in the year. I'm still a virgin, so I'm not in a rush of any sort to be in a super serious relationship. But it would be awfully nice to kiss a boy. It's been way too long for that.

I know I've been really bad about upkeeping this blog. I'm sorry. First it was finals that kept me away, and then after finals I was too busy damaging my liver to remember to post something knew. So to all three of my readers, I could probably apologize to you personally considering I know all of you, but this seems much more impersonal and appropriate considering my social ineptness. I'm sorry.

I've probably said this before, but I've been drinking way more than I did when I first started drinking in high school. I would have a problem with this, except I am extremely lucky not to get hangovers. I'm always tired the morning after drinking, but that's because I don't usually get more than 3-5 hours of sleep. I like to think of it as a gift, even though secretly I'm wondering how much damage I've been doing to my liver with my binge drinking. Recently, I indulged in a mickey of Jack Daniels and a bottle of wine. An unlikely mixture, I know, but it certainly did the trick. I also became known as a badass that night. I thought everyone already knew that, but it was nice to be acknowledged as one for once. I also was told that I looked really skinny, which made me feel very good.

BUT before you all start complimenting me, you should probably know that I don't like being complimented. It makes me uncomfortable. I don't have a problem with self image or anything. In fact, I like to think I have high self esteem. But compliments have always made me uncomfortable. On New Years Eve I was in my friends bedroom with a bunch of girls telling me how pretty I was and I had to bite back the urge to yell at them. It's nice, and I'm thankful that people think that way of me, but they need to keep those compliments to themselves.