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It's day two of a new semester and it's already a snow, er, ice day. I'm sitting in my room in my super comfy bed, a cup of coffee in hand, and a reading on Plato. Life is pretty fabulous right now.
It's 2011, y'all! 2011. The year I graduate. In four months. Asdkfjasdlkfjkjdakfjalkd! So far 2011 has consisted of the following: cobbling together resumes, auditioning, toting around a new purse (thank you, thank you, THANK YOU, sweet Kasey G!), and marveling at he fact that next year I will be in a different state.
Every new year I make a list of goals, most of them the same as that previous year; things like, "I won't bite my nails," and "I will fold my laundry and not let it sit on my floor," and "I will not treat my floor as an extra shelf." But really, these are more like daily goals that I try to work on. So I figured it was time to shake things up, and my lovely pal Kellie gave me an idea. Instead of focusing on a ton of mini-goals, I decided for the year of 2011, I would work on one thing that seems to have a common occurrence this semester and was the cause of my semi-demise towards the end of the semester: stress. My goal is to make sure that I don't get too over my head in my last semester of college, and to always make sure to check in with myself periodically. And maybe instead of saying yes to everything, thinking it through. Before last semester got super hectic, I loved going to the gym to take a class, run, and basically get out some frustration and kick in the endorphins. But I stopped going once school, Corn, the show, finals...everything started piling up. I really missed going and seeing the friends I made in toning and dance classes, and I missed getting the "me" time I knew was long overdue. Over winter break, I started going six times a week, taking classes, rocking out on the elliptical, and...taking yoga.
My dad said that taking yoga would not only work on building the flexibility I used to have when I was younger, but it would also give me a chance to check out and chill for about an hour. All of the stretching, all of the "downward facing dogs" and whatnot means you stare at your feet a lot. And frankly, after about two weeks I got tired of staring at my unpainted toes for so long. So I decided to make a little purchase:
And the rest is history. I feel almost dainty when I lean down to stretch out my back and calves and I see my classy red toes. We'll see how the rest pans out.
Alright, 2011, let's see whatcha got!
I found out a couple surprising things today:
1) My dad is fostering another collie (Chloe got adopted!), and brought sweet Addison home: Guys, she is SUCH a sweetheart! Though she did follow me around and gave me "woe-is-me" eyes while I nibbled on my Panera dinner, I instantly fell in love with this dog. My grandma even commented (very dryly, might I add), "Wow, look at that...Mommy and Baby."
2) My dad knows the "Bed Intruder" song: I know this because this fellow (not the elephant) serenaded me with it tonight.
It is now clear to me that we indeed share the same DNA.
Tomorrow I leave for the great and snowy state of Ohio where the following will probably ensue:
1) My cousin Divya and I will be asked to help do something constructive, like help build a shelf for my aunt's school and we'll end up breaking it.
2) The adults will argue (loudly) when we're out for dinner over who will pay the bill and my dad and uncle will end up arm wrestling (in public).
3) Divya and I will probably get a bottle of wine and laugh at them.
4) My incredibly sweet former pharmacist grandfather will lecture us on the dangers of taking Midol during "that time" and make us do Yogi headstands in the corner where the big green potted plant sways dangerously.
5) Div and I will eat a good lunch and said grandfather will probably try to forcefeed us some more because we only had one sandwich, not twelve.
6) We'll watch a romantic comedy and when the couples kiss, all of the adults will blush/not-so-subtly turn away and then try to cover our eyes with pillows (i.e. smother us).
7) Someone will slip on a patch of ice and go to the emergency room. One year it was my grandfather. Next it was my dad (who says he slipped because he was carrying a shelf; I believe he slipped because he was grooving to ABBA, which was playing on the Ipod at the time).
8) Div and I will be banished to the basement but will make up for it by eating everything in the pantry late at night.
And you know what? I. Cannot. Wait.
Well.
I figured a post about my mom would eventually find its way into this here blog. So here it is:
Mom/Mommy/"YOU-stop stalking my friends on Facebook!",
I do not say this enough but I am a lucky, lucky girl. I have a constant cheerleader whose immediate willingness to claw at anyone who doubts or messes with her daughters always amazes me. I am quite lucky to have you for a best friend, one who can make me laugh within the first five seconds. I appreciate everything you do, from driving thirty minutes to merely hand off your sickly child a bottle of Ginger Ale to listening to me gripe about how irritating life is to always making sure I have decent denim. Most importantly, though, I appreciate how giving you are to others-I've never seen you turn away from a friend in need, yours or mine. It's something that I'll take with me for the rest of my life. I never grow tired of our dates, and always look forward to those Saturday mornings at Mimi's Cafe,where you will talk to me, order pancakes (sans the bacon) with me, and fill me in on the latest drama-fest that is The Housewives of ________ County.
I love you.
Whomever invented Nordstorm deserves a Lifetime Achievement Award. Seriously. After spending a fabulous fun day with Julie-Kate at the Tanger Outlets and not really finding a lot, we moseyed on over to the Southpoint area. And in the haven that is Nordstrom Rack, I found this gem:
A black military jacket for twenty bucks? Yes, please! And I am totally planning on wearing this tomorrow. Speaking of...tomorrow I'm going to Rex Hospital where I'm getting a camera put in my stomach so doctors can see what's going on in the insides of Kiki. While I'm a little nervous, I am quite comforted in the fact that at least I'm going into this little procedure with style :)
I am aware that this poor blog has been neglected for some time. We have so much to catch up on! Corn madness, post-Corn madness, November days, etc! No worries though, now that it is break time, updates will probably be more frequent because I'll be bored out of my mind. On that note, why is is December?
December? DECEMBER! Oh my GAH, how are we already at December? My mind is blown by the fact that I have one more semester of college left...like, FOREVER (until I decide to go to grad school). Wow. I bounce back a lot from feeling elated and ready to go to New York to feeling defiant about graduating and being all, "I'm not doing it. Nope. What's a class I can fail? Okay, I'm failing it. The end."
It has finally happened, folks. The little "Kiran-isms," i.e. the amount of stress that I let affect me in my daily life has landed me into the Land of the Medical, i.e. Rex Hospital, where I am awaiting to be "officially" diagnosed with either stress ulcers or gastroentritis, meaning my stomach is inflamed. Isn't that gross? Ew. My doctor, sweet Dr. Beck, was very calm as she told me that for the next five or six weeks I was to have no more of the following: caffeine, alcohol, processed foods, fruit with high acidity (bye, bye, beloved kiwi. Oh, how I'll miss you), or CHOCOLATE. That's right, y'all. CHOCOLATE. The alcohol thing? I can do without. The caffeine? Really, the only thing I really drink is coffee, and I mean, I can take a break. But it is Christmastime, and this is the time of the year when chocolate things are at its best: peanut butter cookies with Hershey kisses in the middle, homemade chocolate toffee, chocolate-oreo "mush" desserts with gummy bears and crumbled chocolate bits on top, sugar cookies with Santa's distorted face on them, CARAMEL CHEWS...I mean, really, why didn't she just hand me a noose and tell me to go at it?
However: cleaning out my needing-to-be-cleaned diet (i.e. not drinking copious amounts of slightly burned coffee everyday, along with my penchant for going to Which Wich/Whole Foods when the "time's is tough" on the academic front), and sipping on decaf tea and Trader Joe hummus and bread (thanks, daddio), I feel a lot better. Well, you would feel better too once the stabs in your stomach settled. But I feel like my body is building its strength back so I can muck it up with more late-night Cookout next semester (I kid, I kid). I've been sleeping a lot, reading things that aren't academically inclined (I banish you, Theatre History, to the bottom of my bed until next semester), and honestly, hanging out with my family. I am not even kidding when I say that my dad is ecstatic to have me back around the homefront. He misses my sister and I, I think, and so when one of us is ailing, he jumps at the chance to take care of us. Gone is the twenty-two year old form that is me currently, and in its place is the gap-toothed six-year-old me with a slight mullet haircut (thanks to him, of course. Dad thought it would be "economical" to try and cut my hair then...needless to say, he stopped and shelled out the dough to the professionals), always wanting to hold his hand. It's been nice to just do things with him like take our new collie puppy Chloe out for walks, go to Trader Joe's, and watch movies together (since I'm in theatre, I tell him a lot about what we learn in class, so he's picked up the lingo too...we were watching Law & Order, and all he could talk about was the "believability" and "character choices" of Detective Stabler). Aaand I'm not going to lie, my inner six-year-old is secretly glad to spend some quality time with her fisherman-hat-wearing-socks-and-sandals-sporting father.
Since I have been on my meds, I have been able to drive on my own and do things. Over this past week, we at Meredith said, "Congratulations and see you later!" to two very special grads:
The always-fabulous Jenn, who is heading back up to Maine to be at home for awhile and then scooching on over to NEW YOOOOORK (where I will be joining her next year!) to pave her classy name in the acting business.
And then we have...
This hoss over here, Sheryl. While this picture captures her "gangsta" mode, this HILARIOUS and beautiful gal will be hanging around Raleightown to showcase her many acting talents and then hopefully head over to Chicago and land herself a lead on SNL...because yes, people, she is that talented.
I can't even put into words how much these two mean to me or have impacted my stay at Meredith. All I can say is that I love them deeply, believe in them SO MUCH, and cannot wait to see what they do.
I cannot wait to see what this break brings. Hopefully a lot of hip hop classes, writing, catching up with my friends, and seeing my wonderfully insane family? This makes for a vacation where a lot of funny shit will go down...and I cannot wait to be there in the midst of it. Happy, happy December, sweet friends! I can't wait to see you all...and SOON!
Can we just talk about how...
My birthday is tomorrow?
It's my final Cornhuskin' on Friday?
I am feeling so discombobulated right now that I forgot it was my birthday tomorrow?
I have paint in my hair right now?
My socks don't match? (Well...that's not really new...)
I got contacts last Friday?
I loved Halloween?
My room is STILL messy?
I am running on coffee, three hours of sleep, cherry tomatoes, and purple toenails?
I have been on the verge of crying for the past two weeks because I hate the idea of change right now?
Friendships are changing because it's senior year?
I adore my class?
I am so STOKED to have Kasey, Amy, Kellie, SCR, Whitney, and Maggie all in one place?
I think I need to be Rip Van Winkle come November 6th?
Yeah, Doc. Can we talk about all that?
I was a young tot when I was introduced to something that would virtually shape my whole third grade and beyond:
Indeed. A.J, the bad boy with the massive amounts of tattoos and facial hair; Nick, the blond baby-face with a bowl-haircut; Brian, the crooner with a guitar and a voice that sounded like he sometimes had a frog in his throat; Howie, the oddity of the bunch, along with Kevin, the one who was like, thirty, when he joined a boy band. Regardless, I rocked out hardcore to that album. I mean, really. "Everybody?" "Quit Playing Games with my Heart?" Best. Jams. Ever. I remember my dad constantly playing track number ten-"Get Down (You're the One for Me)"-every morning just so I would do the A.J rap and dance that I made up to it. It was our daily morning ritual and our daily bonding moment, and to be honest...I miss that.
I've been thinking about my dad a lot lately. I've been thinking about how our bonding rituals revolve around our love for Will & Grace, music, life conversations, and yes, Meredith traditions. Every single Cornhuskin' season, the man dons a thick jacket and thermal pants and baseball hat and sits through the skits, the dances....everything. And it's been making me a little bit sad that this is the last Corn he and my mom are coming to, the last Corn that we'll spend allllll Saturday morning reliving and comparing the Odds and Evens (he's a permanent Oddy. True fact), and the last Corn he'll get to see me let loose and get a little crazy. I'm beginning to realize that I think this Cornhuskin' is going to be bittersweet for me...and him.
This morning I decided to, er, "take a mental health day" from CORE, so I headed over to the Bean with my Shakespeare book to memorize my monologue for class. It was so beautiful outside and when I was on my way back, my windows were down, music was blaring, and I was telling myself, "This is going to be a GREAT day." As soon as I thought this, while coming up on the Meredith front drive, the funniest thing happened: the sprinklers turned on. And my windows were down. You see the connection. My face was sprayed silly, but I was still determined to have a great day. I leaned into the back of my super-messy, super-crammed car for my paper towels and my fingers brushed against something:
A semi-cracked, blue-and-cream album that had been scratched from so many listens. The first Backstreet Boy album coupled with tons of memories in the car with my dad. And I couldn't help but smile.
That's when I realized today was going to be a good day.
And the rest is history. I feel almost dainty when I lean down to stretch out my back and calves and I see my classy red toes. We'll see how the rest pans out.
