Ha-Ha-Haunted

In the spirit of Halloween I thought I would share with you a few of the experiences I have had with the unexplained. I thought of this idea while watching Ghost Adventures (I'm more of a Ghost Hunters kind of girl, but I needed to watch something scary that wasn't a bad 80s horror movie). It occurred to me that I have a fantastic "unexplained" picture! I thought it would be cool to post the picture along with the story and several other stories of spooky things that have happened to me. However, after about an hour and a half of searching almost every corner of my house - I gave up. I'm pretty disappointed because the picture would add so much to my story, but alas, I must continue without it.

So I will begin with the story of the picture. 

It was the early 2000's. My friends and I had become pretty obsessed with "ghost hunting." We wanted to explore and investigate as many of the haunted places as we could. A few of my friends had mentioned Blood Cemetary in Hollis. Supposedly, it's one of the most haunted cemeteries in New Hampshire, so things seemed promising. Armed with a video camera and several other cameras my boyfriend at the time, sister, friend, and I all took a trip out to Hollis. We decided to go during the day since we tried to go at night once before and were too terrified to even stop the car.

It was a very hot summer day, and at first we were all a little disappointed. Nothing was happening. It wasn't even creepy during the day, but we hoped to maybe get something on film. We tried to provoke any of the energies floating around - telling them to push us over, but nothing was happening. Until, we came to a specific grave. All of us were drawn to one with the name of (if I'm remembering correctly) "Rebecca.". It was strange because all around this grave were these patches of cold air, like air conditioning. There was no breeze, and all four of us felt the exact same thing. We stayed and talked to the grave - even sitting beside it. It was at this point one of us snapped a picture. A little while later, we left.

We dropped off the film to get developed (remember those days?!), and looked at the footage for anything cool. We found nothing - until we got the pictures back. None of the other pictures showed anything except for the picture of us talking to "Rebecca." In the picture there are three of us sitting on the ground. You can see us feeling the cold spot, and right above my friend's shoulder was this bright white orb (dammit I wish I found the stupid picture). It was the coolest thing I've ever seen. It was too big and prominent to be a bug (and if it was a bug, why didn't they show up on anything else). We also weren't using a flash, so I don't have any other explanation as to what it would be.

My other stories all involve my childhood home.

My sister and I had separate rooms, but my room just so happened to have a spare bed. One day, my sister came into my room (she couldn't have been any older than 5) and said to me, "Can I sleep in your room? There are people talking in mine." This was pretty terrifying, so I said yes. She stayed in my room for close to a year after that.

Another incident happened early in the morning. My sister and I were in my room; she was asleep, but I was awake lying in my bed. My mom was taking a shower in the bathroom down the hall. I heard her open the door suddenly and say, "Hello? ... Hello!" I thought it was strange so I yelled back to her. She said, "Did you knock on the bathroom door?" I said no, that I had been laying in bed the whole time. She said, "It had to have been you. You were probably sleepwalking." I did sleepwalk, but I knew it couldn't have been me - I was laying in bed the whole time! She wouldn't accept my answer, so I just let her believe what she wanted to believe.

The strange things in my house got more intense in my teen years. There would be so many times where you would feel like someone was watching you. We had three dogs and sometimes all three of them would stare in the same corner and start barking. I watched things fall down the stairs (which could be explained as things just falling, not supernatural, to look at it objectively), and many of my friends felt very uncomfortable in my house (one had never heard any of our stories).

The best example of my dogs noticing strange things happened pretty late at night. I was on the internet in our computer room. To my right was our kitchen, and past that was our living room. My large, vicious dog was laying in the kitchen when there was a noise in the living room - like a quick bang. We both heard it - he picked his head up and stared exactly where I heard the noise. Then immediately after, there was another bang - this time right behind my dog in the kitchen. He took off and ran upstairs. That scared me, and as I started to get up there was another bang behind me. At that point I ran upstairs into my room probably the fastest any human being could have traveled.

Another strange situation happened again when I was sitting on my computer late at night. I was downstairs in the same computer room when I heard my dad yell, "SAM!" from the top of the stairs. I yelled back, "What?!" Then there was nothing, so I yelled again, "What, Dad?!" I got annoyed and headed to the stairs. When I got there no one was there. I assumed my dad got annoyed and went back to his room, so I went up to their room. Both my mom and my dad were asleep - TV off (they fell asleep with it on) and my dad snoring away. So who the hell called my name?

The last incident before everything seemed to stop was the weirdest one. I hesitate to tell people this because it's pretty weird (and you may judge me), but here we go. I felt like the ghost or energy or whatever was occupying my house liked to mess with me - specifically me. My neighborhood had a theory it was the ghost of one of our neighbors who had committed suicide (my neighbors had similar kinds of ghost stories - one I will share later), and that he would just walk around house to house and freak us out. So on this night - I had, had it. I was in our living room watching TV. It was at night and everyone was upstairs. My mom was the only one awake, and she was watching TV in her room. I started getting the feeling that someone was watching me. Most of the time I would try to brush it off, but this time it was giving me goosebumps. I decided to go upstairs and it felt like it was following me. I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash my face. I started washing my face when it felt like something poked me. I looked up, wiped my face with a towel, and then I saw it. A mother-effing tissue was being PULLED out of the tissue box. Every so gently I saw it tug once, twice, and by the third time I was so confused and freaked out I started screaming at it. "Stop! Just stop! Leave me the fuck alone!" And it was over. The feeling like someone was staring at me was gone, and I ran to my mom's room to tell her what had happened.

Everything else up until that point could have a reasonable explanation. However, the tissue takes the cake. I didn't touch the tissue box before it started happening, so it's not like maybe it was my fault. It happened completely on its own. I know it sounds out there, but you need to just take my word for it that it happened. Nothing "paranormal" has happened to me since then that even comes close so being as strange.

The last story I will share with you happened while I was babysitting for my neighbors. The parents had gone out for the night, so I allowed all three of the kids to hang out in the den with me to watch a movie (and stay up a little later past their bed time). The kids all had their own stories of strange things happening. The youngest was so scared that I made up a story about how I was friends with the ghosts to comfort him. I told him that since we were friends the ghosts wouldn't hurt him. So, on this particular night, all four of us got into a tickle fight. We were laughing and having a good time until we heard a scream come from the other room. The girls heard it at the exact same time I did. Their faces dropped and the oldest said, "Did you hear that? What was that?!" I lied and said it was me. The oldest was too smart and called me out, but I insisted it was me so the little ones wouldn't be scared. After that, they asked if they could sleep next to me on the couch, and I had absolutely no objection.

So there you have it! My "unexplainable" stories. I don't know with 100% certainty that ghosts are real, but I do know some weird things have happened. However, if we are all made of energy... and energy is neither created nor destroyed, then is it really all that far fetched to believe ghosts could be little collections of energy?

... And I still wish I found that picture.

If you have any ghost storied of your own I would love to hear them!

Being Human.

Twenties have been interesting. And hard. And stressful. But after reading a few other blogs and articles it seems as though this might be normal. I had this image of what a 20-something was supposed to be like. Even entering my 20s I expected a great many things from my future self. Older me was going to have her shit together. All my mental and physical struggles were going to be fixed and figured out! I was going to be awesome! However, I put too much faith into time. In time I would fix it - just give it some time and things will work themselves out. I put some half-assed effort into fixing myself, though that turned out to not be good enough. But a strange thing starts to happen in your 20s - time suddenly doubles in speed. Then after 25 it quadruples. And before you know it you're staring 30 in the face while wondering, "What the hell happened!?"


But seriously, what the hell has happened? I am no where near the person younger me thought I would be - which is simultaneously depressing and relieving (younger me had some stupid ass ideas). I know I've talked about this before on here, I may have even talked this to death, but the journey through 20 has been eye opening. I gain a new perspective with every passing year (or week or minute for that matter). So I feel the need to document and pass on this information.

I know I had said I was no longer going to write in here. I've been going back and forth with this thing for a while. I've been afraid of being judged for putting my depression struggle on display. But I thought about it and decided - I don't care. I almost want people to know because explaining this is real life can be difficult. Especially now when I feel like I'm losing friends because of it.

For a very, very long time now, I've been stuck in a hole. I think I'm looking at 2 years of being in a pretty steady state of unhappiness. I'm not completely sure why - as I've tried changing my environmental stressors quite a few times. Ridding myself of things which cause me an excess of negativity. And for brief periods of time it's caused me some relief - but I still live in this fog. I have this terrible monster looming over me, and a separate one tucked away inside my soul. I can't shake them, and I'm not sure what it's going to take to rid my life of them. To some degree, I think I will always carry them with me - one of the lovely new realizations my 20s have brought me (much to the dismay of my past self who thought it would be over by now). I just need to know how to live like a normal human being while they try to suck the life from my body.

That's what I think I've been failing at - being human. Living like a normal person. I've started avoiding things. Stupid, normal things stress me out. I started coping with this in unhealthy ways - successfully bringing myself a whole new cart of baggage to deal with and sort through.

I don't think it's any secret to most people I've become extremely antisocial. I host parties, yes, but I don't think many people realize this is where I see a pretty large majority of my friends. I've become very good at being a hermit. In some ways, I'm pretty proud of myself - in my early 20s and teens I never wanted to be alone. Now, I am totally stoked to sit at home alone. To go shopping alone. To drive long distances alone (with the exception of my dog's company for most of these things). When the hell did this happen?

However, I attribute some of this to the depression. Everything exhausts me - being human totally exhausts me. Socializing? Oh man. I'm incredibly introverted and shy, and now with the increased depression, using my limited social skills has become quite the task. Sometimes when people ask me to do things, and I've had a particularly exhausting day of battling my monsters, I literally don't have the energy to force myself to be around people. There's a small group who I can just say that to and they understand, but I know after a while of the same excuse people start to question whether or not I'm telling the truth - maybe even start to think I don't like them. This is not the case at all. I'm just exhausted - and have been exhausted for a very, very long time.

I keep doubting myself and have been incredibly mentally self-abusive. The inside monster likes to tell me how awful I am. She likes to remind me on a regular basis that I'm nothing, tells me everyone hates me, and remind me about everyone else who has their shit together. This same monster has made drinking become an issue - as I use it as a social crutch. It has recently come to my attention that I become this monster from time to time. She loves to manifest herself after a few shots. After foolishly thinking I could some how figure out a way to enjoy alcohol and still keep her at bay - I'm finally admitting defeat. I'm failing at being a human - what made me think I could drink like one?

I'm now starting to have to think about school again. I've had a nice long break - which flew by and was barely long enough. I have to keep reminding myself it's almost over. I'm so close to a bachelors. On a positive note, school can be a nice distraction. AND since I'm a human development major (psychology) the coursework can be a fantastic way to learn how to cope with myself (and the monsters).

I enjoy learning - especially this subject - but I often have doubts. I'm terrified of the debt I will have to pay. I'm scared I won't be able to handle the workload in the Masters program that I'll eventually have to enter into - never mind the rest of the workload to get my bachelors. I'm scared I wont like my field just like how I didn't like graphic design (though in my defense I never liked it). I get too caught up in "what-ifs." Sometimes I have to be reminded (mostly by Corey) not to get too caught up in them - but the monsters don't like optimism.

Even though I'm trapped in my own mind, blinded by the fog, and dragged down by my hypothetical monsters - I still feel happy from time to time. Sometimes I just need to be alone with myself for a bit to recoup - to re-energize myself into normal human functioning - which is sometimes why my hermiting is a beneficial thing. I'm trying not to be so reclusive that I lose all my friends, but explaining all this to people (some of whom don't totally understand depression) makes me feel a bit pathetic. And that's how this struggle has made me feel - completely pathetic.

Drown.

Drowning. Drowning in debt, in schoolwork, in emotions. I've just been drowning. The optimism from my last post still floats around in my head; bringing me much needed strength in my time of need. And while I am happier with this new path, I still struggle with the day to day.

I've thought about posting here; especially those nights when I have stressed myself out to the point of just barely suppressing the urge to rip off my own skin. I've gone back and read past entries in an attempt to work up the motivation to create a post, but this has only caused me to question this entire thing all together. Blogging... who does that? Why have I created this public place to expose my fragile emotions? It's almost embarrassing (no, it IS embarrassing).

Yet here I am again, exposing my unstable mind. Admitting to complete strangers, friends, acquaintances, enemies and any random passersby that I'm strange; like my life and thoughts actually matter to anyone other than myself. I confidently boast about goals I have never accomplished, trips I will never take, and for what? To embarrass myself in public? To disappoint my future self? So badly I want to say to you the only reason I write in this is to keep my mind fresh and to practice for the book I dream about writing... But am I lying to you? Intentionally or unintentionally?

School has been both a blessing and a curse. It's still hard to believe I've actually (semi)accomplished a goal I had set for myself since this blog is proof of how many things I let slip into obscurity, but I still question what the fuck I'm doing to myself.

In my 13 weeks of school I've completed two classes, and in two and a half weeks I will be done with two more. Everyone should be required to take at least one social work and (more) psychology class(es). They have been simultaneously eye opening and depressing. I've learned a lot about the world, and people, and depression, and families, and hormones, and all that happy (and not so happy) shit.... and it's made me a bit angry and disheartened with the world and the future.

Most of my school work has been self-reflective and I've discovered a lot of things about myself and my life I have never really let myself accept; one of those things being I am much too open about myself and my feelings... and this usually gets me into trouble. This realization was another reason I chose to look at past entries. It's nice to see what I was thinking. It's nice to see the progression of my writing and mind... but why have I done this in public? I am one of the only people I know who so willingly puts themselves out there for all the world to see, so maybe I should just stop. Maybe I should practice keeping these things to myself.

I want to say this will be my last post, but I've never been good at keeping my word, so I wont lie to you. All I can do is apologize to everyone for my terrible public displays of emotions... and apologize to myself for appearing so... naive... or terrible... or some other adjective I can't articulate.

Reset.

Once you start yourself on a certain path, it can be hard to deviate from that direction. You trudge along day after day, repeating the cycle, doing what you need to do because that's what you've always done. That's exactly what I had been doing since February of 2006. I was fresh out of college, took the next adult step and started on what I thought was going to be my career. I had my associates degree in graphic design, and even though I had decided very early on in school that graphic design was NOT for me, I landed myself a sweet little office job designing advertisements for a newspaper. I took this job because after 2 months of receiving rejection letters I had become very desperate to get the hell out of Sam's Club. So with the offer of a full time position, with benefits, a cubicle, a phone and even business cards (!), I officially became an adult.

The Telegraph was an amazing first job. I made a handful of great friends, some of whom I'm still in contact with, and they put up with my complete lack of punctuality and constant internet usage. But once the lay-offs started my love of the job took a dramatic turn. So I did what every normal adult does, I started applying to other full time graphic design jobs.

Just about four years and thousands of resumes later (I'm probably not exaggerating with that figure), I finally, finally was offered a new job. In November of 2011 I started at what I thought would be my new career path, working in a prepress department at a label printing company. I was so sure this would be a long term thing, but instead of being excited about the position after the first week like I was at The Telegraph, I felt so completely overwhelmed and out of place. It took so much longer to grasp what was expected of me and the atmosphere was completely different. And like I said in my previous post, I quickly decided that job was not for me.

So I did what any normal adult would do (?), I sulked. I fell into the biggest depression of my adult life. I gave serious consideration into running my car off the road, jumping off a bridge, running away, becoming a gypsy, living in a log cabin in the woods, and other various self-destructive, self loathing, unrealistic things. Until one day I thought to myself, Why do I need to keep going on the path I'm on? I decided the only way to change the direction of my sad little life, was to actually change my life.

Obviously, I am in need of a serious career change. The only way to really do that is to go back to school. I tried going back 3 times, only being successful ONCE in 2007 and quickly giving up after the first semester. I religiously stalked the Rivier website. I printed out information, looked at every program that remotely interested me, and after maybe a month of doing this, I came up with a plan. I was going to quit my job and go back to school full time. The only real reason (aside from the money aspect) I've been keeping a full time job is to have health insurance, and when I saw that you could get insurance through the school as long as you went full time, this opened up a new world of possibilities to me.

I played around with the idea for a little while. I brought it up to friends and family, and after getting some support, I decided to contact the school. I set up an appointment, chose a major that I hadn't even thought of as a possibility (I wanted to be an education major, now I'm a psychology major), and waited. All the initial things happened in April, and since then I've been carefully constructing my new life.

I was offered a part-time position at a wedding DJ company as an office assistant, secured my spot back at a part-time job I work on and off at, and up until this point none of this has felt real. Now that I have my books, student ID, folders, pens, highlighters, all the normal school things, it's starting to set in. I did it. I really made it happen. I'm starting my new life.

Tomorrow will complete my first week of a part-time work schedule. Monday is my official first day of school. Am I scared? Yes, absolutely. I've read what's expected of me for these upcoming classes and I'd be lying if I told you I wasn't already feeling overwhelmed. But even with the impending stress of school and the gigantic pay cut, I can honestly tell you that in this very moment I am the happiest I have been in a very, very long time.

The Depression Monster

Like an unwanted friend, it lingers. It clings to every inch of your body, weighing you down like a lead blanket until you're nothing but a pile of useless. You wait for it to leave, but it constantly overstays its welcome and you start to wonder if it will ever leave you alone. So the only thing left is to fight it off, to wage a battle of the mind until finally the horrible weight is lifted. Though you know, deep down, that it will return soon enough.

So if you've been wondering where I've been, or why I've been so distant, or why I seem so... apathetic, it's because I've been here, shrouded in my veil of lead, feeling guilty and frustrated that I've been trapped beneath the weight for so long, and for seemingly no reason.

After my last post, I had quickly come to the conclusion that this new job is pretty terrible. And with that realization the depression really seemed to start settling in. Then, when going back to school was not a plausible possibility, things started spiraling from there.

I felt guilty and stupid for falling in as deep as I did. The depression became so bad that the sheer thought of being in public gave me panic attacks. My daily routine consisted of going to work, coming home, sitting on my couch with my dog, and watching TV until it was time to go to sleep. I drifted from a good majority of my friends, skipped out on parties and group outings, and the one time I tried to drag myself out of the house to go ice skating with a group of my boyfriend's acquaintances I had such huge a meltdown we immediately left and I spent the entire ride home crying uncontrollably.

That instance only added to the frustration of feeling so out of control of my own emotions, and since December I have tried very, very hard to get back into a position of power. I'm significantly more social than I was, and the panic attacks have been subdued, but I can still feel the weight of the monster pressing down upon me.

So what the hell is my problem? I've been asking myself this the entire time, and any real answer I come up with just sounds too selfish or self loathing. I hate, HATE this job. Yes, but most people hate their jobs, some don't have any at all, and didn't I desperately want to get out of The TG? I'm so incredibly broke. But, again, some people literally have no money at all, and the fact that I am in the position I am is no ones fault but my own. I'm 26 and not even remotely close to accomplishing anything I thought I would have by this age. Which, yet again, is no ones fault but my own. Life is meaningless, there is no greater purpose, and we are forced to live lives we hate because society tells us so. Well now that's a little dramatic, and there's really nothing I can do about that other than just dealing with it...

But even though I know I'm being dramatic and self loathing, and that I can't stand to be around myself when I get like this, and all I want to do is to just shut the hell up and get over it.... I'm having a really hard time shaking this state of mind. I have a lot of good things in my life, and despite the negativity that consumes me, I'm still able to see and appreciate that. I'm just sick of always ending up in this same dark place, weighted down by the same blanket of lead, and always having to fight to get myself to be a normal, productive member of society. I want to badly to just BE that person, I just want my life to be easy... But nothing ever is. So the fight will inevitably be continued... possibly forever... and I just need to get used to that before I completely lose myself.

A New Chapter

On October 28th, after about a month of waiting, I received a phone call that was about 4 years overdue. I had interviewed with a label printing company, twice, and was fairly certain up until that point that I did not get the job. But much to my surprise, I was offered the position on that Friday morning. After a brief celebration with my dog, I embarked on the longest drive to work ever. The second I walked in the door, I b-lined right for my bosses office to say those 7 little words I had been dying to say, "Kathy, I have to give my notice." And just like that, my life (or at least 40 hours a week of it) changed.

At first I was extremely excited. I sat in my cubicle with a stupid smile plastered on my face for what probably turned out to be an inappropriate amount of time. The news traveled around fast and many people stopped by to see if it were true. Yes, yes I had escaped. I heard a lot of I'm-so-happy-for-you's and take-me-with-you's... and some you-can't-leave-us, one person in particular called me a traitor a few hundred times. But it didn't totally hit me until the last few days that maybe I would actually miss The Telegraph. It suddenly occurred to me that I felt at home there. I had spent the past almost 6 years in the same place, with the same people, doing the same things, and now I had no idea what to expect. I knew before I even interviewed anywhere that once I left the safe confines of The Teege I would be giving up a significant amount of freedom. I basically did whatever I wanted there. I had the most awesome boss who was not super strict about hours and didn't care what I did as long as I made the deadlines. But at a new job, who knows. 

My last day was bittersweet. My department had a going away party with cake and a card, and the sales ladies I worked with directly bought me a gift card and a card of their own, two of them gave me separate presents. I had no idea it would be so emotional to leave. I literally had to choke back tears as I said my last goodbyes. While saying goodbye to my boss I almost broke down and had to say, "Okay, I really need to go before I get overly emotional." Then I sat in my car, took one last look as an employee and said goodbye to that chapter of my life... Which was immediately followed by a 15 minute cry-sesh. 

So now I'm with a new, fancy label printing company. I've been there for about 3 weeks. There have already been several on-the-verge-of-tears phone calls to my boyfriend complaining about how I can't grasp anything and how I never should have left The TG. But I've never been very good with change, so deep down in my subconscious I knew I was just adjusting. The position turned out to be much more involved than I thought, there's a crazy amount of information to take in and remember, but I am slowly understanding everything... and wanting to shoot myself in the face less.

It's unfortunate that money is such a deal breaker. I came to the conclusion in my final weeks that had it not been for the fact that I was grossly underpaid and had the worst insurance known to mankind, I probably would have stayed at The Telegraph for as long as time would allow... Which at this rate wouldn't have been very long, but that's besides the point. I may have been bored out of my god damn mind 90% of the time, but the freedom, that alone was enough to keep me from hanging myself in my cube. So I guess what I'm trying to say here is, I actually miss it. Still. Even after all the bitching and moaning about wanting to leave, here I am silently (or maybe not so silently now) wishing to be sitting in that awful, blue box I affectionately referred to as "hell." 

Instead of rolling in about 10, I promptly arrive at 8:30 am, still half asleep and pissed off by the work commute from hell, complete with 80 thousand spiteful stoplights that love to change at the exact same time just so you have to stop at every... single... one for the next 50 miles. And instead of an honor code time card, I actually have to to punch in and out. And the absolute worst part, instead of knowing everyone and feeling completely comfortable, I suddenly regress into having the social skills of my 15 year old self, and am some sort of awful mix of shy and awkward. I know all this will eventually go away, but this whole in between period... it needs to go by a bit faster. 

There are pretty significant perks to the new place though. My paycheck actually made me smile and the day FLIES by. At The TG 7 hours could have been 3 days for all I knew, they both felt the same. Actually having decent health insurance again will also be nice come January. So I guess it's still early to judge whether or not I can actually feel THAT way over a company again (like this is some sort of messed up relationship). I suppose only time will tell! 

Hello again.

Oh hello blogger blog! I'm sorry I abandoned you. I left you for a younger, more hip blog hosting site, but I must admit... I felt compelled to come back to you. I'm a sucker for your old ways and familiar... typing... space? Thank you for welcoming me back into your loving, google arms.

Much has happened since I last posted here. I still have and update my tumblr blogs (my photo and "personal" blog, which has basically become just a place for reblogging pictures and quotes) so if anyone is actually still reading this and you feel compelled to check out my other shit... feel free. But I will actually be updating this blog again. I want to say regularly, but we all know it probably wont be.

I am currently still adjusting to normal life. I took a much needed 2 week vacation, and today marks day 4 of normal work/real world humdrum bullshit. A week ago from today I was sitting in an airplane making my way to Baltimore. Two weeks ago today I was probably getting ready to head to the San Diego Zoo to embark on a 9 and a half hour quest to see the park in its entirety. But today, I am sitting in my cubicle, staring at an ad that I may or may not start at some point before I leave today.

Obviously, I miss vacation. In just 10 days my sister, friend, boyfriend and I saw almost the entire state of California. I wont bore you with every little detail, but I can tell you of the things we saw in just one sentence: The Golden Nugget, Las Vegas, Fremont Street, Escondido, the San Diego Zoo, a whole lot of nothing and farms in mid California, the Pacific Ocean, Walnut Creek, San Fransisco, a Stone Temple Pilots show (briefly from a hill in San Fran), The Winchester Mystery House, Sequoia National Park, The General Sherman Tree, Morrow Rock, Fresno, Calico Ghost Town, Barstow, Route 66, vampire boobs, The Stratosphere, and many west coast sunsets. It was an amazing adventure. One that I am so happy to have been a part of.

However, I would be lying if I told you that I wasn't a little relieved to be home. The trip was amazing, but also very stressful at times. Flying, flying was the worst. Not even the actual act of flying, but not knowing which plane you're going to make it on or whether or not you'll even get home in a timely manner is probably one of the most anxiety inducing things I've ever done. Landing in Manchester was extremely bittersweet. It meant the end of my carefree vacation days, but it also meant I was home.

It's funny that everywhere we went I was always searching for that "home feeling." While in the midst of the desert that feeling was nowhere to be found, but as we headed north and the trees became more green and abundant I definitely felt it. San Fransisco, while still foreign to me, still felt the most like home. The weather changed from warm, sunny and happy to gray, cold and dreary in almost an instant, something most New Englander's can relate to. We stayed in Walnut Creek which was about a 15 minute drive from the city, and the whole time the feelings were similar to those I feel when I'm around the Boston area. It was nice to feel that little bit of home.

I always talk about how sick I am of the same old place, the same old things, but a strange thing overcame me as I spent my first night back on the east coast. I felt appreciative for things I had never before appreciated. It was nice to get into my own car, drive down familiar roads to stores I know the layout to, and to actually cook my own meal. It was like I needed those few weeks of unfamiliar chaos to really appreciate this place I call home.

I am not, however, excited to be back at work. Making money is wonderful and extremely needed right now (recovering from this trip is going to take a little while), but the whole real world cubicle thing... I would never miss. I felt somewhat refreshed my first day back, did lots of work, but it took all of two days for me to remember how much I hate everything that has to do with this job.

So, that being said, I'm currently all enrolled and (almost) ready to go for college part III. In January I will be going back to finish up my Elementary Education degree. I'm extremely excited and nervous all at the same time. I am not looking forward to tests and homework and papers, but I am very, VERY much looking forward to my impending career change. Graphic design, it's been... interesting, but there is no way in HELL I will be doing you for the rest of my life (giggity).

 And that is basically what has been happening since I last blogged here. I don't usually do the whole "updates on me" thing, so don't you worry, I'll go back to the "updates on feeling and rants" as soon as possible.

It's good to be home... but I do rather miss you west coast.