Oh My God, Eight Months.

So, I haven't even been home a week yet, and already I feel like I'm going a bit crazy. Not to say that it's boring or anything (well, a little I suppose)-- I'm seeing my family members and everything. Under normal circumstances, I'd be fine. I was here for four months during the summer and that went well. It's just that things are a lot slower here and that gives me a lot of time to think about everything. And with all this thinking, I can't exactly avoid getting stressed/anxious/somewhat unhappy. Which makes it somewhat (near impossible) to get to sleep. If this keeps up, it will take a toll on my health. Blech.

Anyway, I think I promised in some of my earlier entries that I would keep my blog somewhat happy, and that I wouldn't bitch that much. So enough of that. I should work on staying happy anyway so my family members don't find me unbearable. :-) Even I'm getting a bit irritated with myself.

So what's been going on here? Haha, things are so boring here! I organized my bookshelf yesterday and I got so excited/proud I almost took a picture and posted it on here. I refrained, but seriously, it's awesome. Everything's in its proper section. I considered alphabetizing it, but decided not to in the end. I'll probably save that for a later date -- I've got to keep myself entertained for the next eight months somehow, after all.

I've been sending my poetry off to different literary magazines, which is a good way to pass the time. My parents think I'm a bit crazy, I guess since I seem so obsessed with getting everything out as soon as possible. My mother encourages me, but regularly reminds me that "no one reads poetry anyway." Fair enough. If people don't want to read my work, okay, but I still want it published. People can skip over it if it does not please them.

On another note, has anyone ever heard of clamato juice? (Brian, if you are reading this, I'm pretty sure that we mentioned it to you at one point.) If not, it's clam juice mixed with tomato juice. Yum. I was under the impression that we did not have this in the States, but apparently it is not uncommon. In fact, we decided to take it one step further. Budweiser thought that it could improve clamato by adding beer, salt, and lime to it. Fair enough. I'd have to be plenty drunk before I could enjoy that stuff. And to be fair, drunk people will consume anything. I had a roommate once who would eat cheese-flavored Sunchips with this vinegar/Tabasco sauce when she got hammered (or "got crunk." I am so lame that I only figured out what that meant a month ago. I need to use that Urban Dictionary you got me more often, Ana! The hip-hop instructional video, however, is a lost cause.)

Christmas was somewhat uneventful. We stayed home and had a very traditional meal, which meant I had my usual dinner of bread and olives that came from a can. Delicious. The bread would have been okay, but our oven was acting up, and it wasn't fully cooked. Haha, it almost made me miss dining hall food.

As I mentioned earlier, I have been a bit mopey, and my parents have been trying to cheer me up. My father, he tries, he does, but geez, I am glad he decided to be a consultant and not a therapist. Mostly, he thinks I will feel better if he lists every single thing that is not going right. Including the fact that I must have lost my sense of purpose, and that I lost the one place that feels like home -- two things I was not thinking about until he mentioned them. He also thinks it is a good idea to mentioned other events that have at one point made me upset -- like the time I went to the zoo when I was four, and the monkeys went wild, which made me cry. Seriously, if he were a therapist, I bet it'd go something like this: "That is tough. However, you neglected to mention your recent divorce, which must also make you want to die. If you'd like to try offing yourself again, might I suggest you try poison? It is relatively mess free!" Oh geez, I love my parents, those crazy cats.

Ah, what else? I've been embroidering. I guess I'll get a lot of that done during the next few months. I need to get a new hobby of some sort to pass the time. One that's relatively easy, since I feel I will react strongly if I fail. Perhaps knitting, since people tell me it is easy? Any suggestions? Nothing that involves a lot of physical activity. I've been very sore recently. I know my body will never be the same after all the medication after the misdiagnosis, but the stress/ lack of sleep has definitely exacerbated the problem. I'd prefer activities that involve little to no movement, thank you very much. :-)

I realized no one's really seen my house before. Let me know if you guys are interested in seeing what it looks like. If you are, I'll do a picture-tour in an upcoming entry.

Anyway, it is 5:30 in the morning and I am exhausted, so I'm sorry that this entry is not terribly eloquent. I'll try and write more in the future.

Hearts, puppies, etc.,

Kendall (I spelled my name incorrectly the first time. Fail!)