A lot of times I wish I lived in a Miyazaki movie. I was watching Castle in the Sky a couple days ago and desperately wanted to look up in the sky one day and see Laputa floating among the clouds. You could say I don't always live in reality. I get lost in my thoughts. But, come on. Reality or giant castle suspended above the earth, safe and uncorrupted from the chaos below? Ancient gardens, mechanical lifeforms, an underwater city, a giant tree -- if there is a heaven, that should be it. What I love about Miyazaki films is not just their creativity, detail and story, but the strange familiarity that envelops me every time I settle down to watch. Spirited Away, which I am also happy to own, is very much like this. It's returning to a secret hiding place, or remembering bits and pieces of dreams and stitching them back together in the order that makes the most sense. Kiki's Delivery Service makes me wish for simplicity and contentment; Kiki's trial is to spend a year away from home and improve her abilities as a witch, and also develop greater independence. The city she relocates to is bustling and very different from her quiet home, but it is also gorgeously quaint. She gets a job delivering baked goods for the bakery's pregnant owner, and makes friends along the way. It is such a simple story, but is presented in a charming way that makes me wish we could all start our lives over and abandon the complexities and obligations of 21st century life. Sometimes I imagine I could drop out of college if it meant lodging in the attic above a cozy bakery and spending my days delivering bread and cakes to generally friendly people. Ah, so simple and carefree. It's that youthfulness and optimism that capture the heart and stimulate the imagination.

can't sleep

I try on the blazer, thinking some kind of spark of self actualization will ignite or a light bulb blink on over my ragged ponytail, or the music playing in the store will rise to a dramatic crescendo, heralding my entrance into the universe of effortless style. Instead, I feel self conscious and awkward. I do not wear clothes well, because I'm still not 100% comfortable in my body. I was fussy and fidgety as all get out when I was a kid, and while more self-assured today, I still have my moments of incredible discomfort. It sucks. I reluctantly peek in at my reflection and am not blown away by it. As always, my head looks too small and my hands hang awkwardly at my sides. I never know what to do with my knobby, long-thumbed hands. I'm at that stage where I'm trying to get comfortable enough with myself where I can stand still and look normal. I've been a sloucher for the longest time, and am still working on keeping my shoulders and back straight as often as possible. I force my flat feet to into arched ones and try to point my toes a little more inward. I try to make eye contact with people more often, but still have a tendency to become robotic in random situations. You'd think I'd been raised by wolves.

Self-improvement is my thing right now. I want to be a better person, I need to be a better person. I want to be more attractive, more approachable, kinder, more outgoing and sociable. I want to be more responsible, accomplish things, and experience some success. I want to be recognized for doing something good. Not necessarily awards, but, you know, a thank you would suffice.

TBC

I'm sick of people not being able to understand that there are women who enjoy being single. I'm sick of all these preconceptions about single women:

-You must be lonely, because you're SO ALONE
-You're a miserable, bitter cat lady
-You'll never be happy without a man in your life
-Your vagina probably smells


Yes, I am so tortured and lonely, because I do not have a man to make me feel whole. I am mean and weird and cold, because I don't need a boyfriend/fiancee/husband in order to be content. I'm from another planet. I'm a lesbian. I'm asexual.

Sometimes having a natural tendency to defy the conventional lifestyle can be fun. It can also be incredibly difficult, especially when your mother insists that someday you'll meet the man of your dreams, marry him, and have children, grow old together, etc. And I always reply, "And what if I don't? So what?" And she just says, "You will, and you'll change your mind."

Blahblahblah.

Whenever my grandmother asks me if I have a boyfriend, I tell her I'm too busy for one. It's kind of true. Plus there are more important activities in life than chasing men.

I won't lie; I have my share of crushes. But the thought of entering a relationship with any of these people just turns me off. My hormones say: SEX. NOW. But I think of how complicated it all is, and my brain says: "Forgetaboutit."

I have the unfortunate habit of harboring crushes on the most unattainable people. I fantasize about what it would be like to hook up with them. Reality is so disappointing.

And even when I have those days where I see couples acting all lovey dovey and get irritated by it, I'm still happier on my own. I despise being so stigmatized by people for my singleness.

When I'm cranky, it's not because I'm lonely or need to get laid. I'm just frustrated because so few people are willing to understand where I'm coming from.

I'm not sure if I should go into another shpiel about how insane I am sometimes

But it involved me being so ridiculously out of it that I forgot to run a really important errand, and as all things go, made myself look like a moron. I shouldn't let dumb mistakes get to me, but they do anyway because I make so many of them. When I'm driving, especially for three hours, my mind wanders.

A lot.

I will only go so far as to say that I spent way too much time thinking about the way someone looked at me and it made me feel warm all over. It's hard to explain. But I can't stop thinking about it. And I will shut up now before this starts to sound like some cheesy novel.

Note to self: Stop making something out of nothing.

School schmool

Philosophy is @#&!ing hard. Really, really hard. I can't wait for it to be over even though my prof is cute in a  dorky way and has a funny laugh so I can move on with my life and stress out over something else. I still forget I'm a senior sometimes. It's weird when I see people that I think are older than me and are actually younger than me. Weird, I tell you. And I'm still trying to figure out what I'm going to do with my life after college. Obviously I need to find a job, and eventually get my own place, and who knows what after that. I want to be young and naive and believe that I'll get a super awesome job somewhere really cool, but I know I have to be realistic. If I do get a super awesome job sometime in my life, it will be a long time from now. One thing I'm finding is that I really love history. Right now I'm taking a medieval civilizations class, and it's great. The professor is so enthusiastic about history, and he's quirky in that old guy historian way. Most of all though, what he talks about is so interesting. I think medieval/middle age politics is really fascinating. It was such an active time in history, when Europe and England were making big transitions into organized government and really getting themselves together. Not to mention, all the plots between royal family members and the gorgeous art and the cathedrals that were being constructed in those days. The fortresses, the conflicts between the papacy and royalty, etc. For my research paper, I'm learning about the amazing Blanche of Castile, who was Queen of France in the early to mid 13th century. I need to hurry up and finish her biography and get working on my other sources.

I wonder if I'll ever be able to get off the Zoloft. I started taking it when I was pretty young, for anxiety. A lot of times I think that my mom shouldn't have ever let them prescribe me a medication because I was so young at the time. I think it's screwed me up a little. Now if I don't take it for a couple of days, and then I do again, it messes me up physically. I feel weak, dizzy, my hands shake, and I have no appetite. My eyelids feel heavy and my limbs weigh a ton. It's pretty unpleasant. But that's what happens when you become so accustomed to having certain chemicals in your system that it affects you both mentally and physically.

When I went to Indy the last weekend of October with my parents, my mom told me that my dad finally went in for a check up (he hadn't done so for 8 years). Turns out he had a polyp, but the doctor had it removed. My dad also has very high blood pressure and high cholesterol. He lost 10 lbs over a few weeks. He has to take a medication now (I forget what for exactly) but for pretty much his entire life (until now) he has never been dependent on a medication. Whether or not he cares about that, I'm just glad he made that visit to the doctor when he did. And I hope he gets healthier.

Why do I only write here when I'm pissed about something

I feel like I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place -- I don't want to apologize for who I am, but there are times when I really want to. When you're prone to being avoided, like me, you start to wonder if you should be yourself at all, as it clearly hasn't gotten you any friends. Should I say "Go to hell, this is me and if you don't like it, why are you wasting your time"? Or mumble, "Sorry" and go back to being a contrite little doormat, retreating to the wall and blending in with the stripes and flower prints? I'm caught between being my serious, distant, humorous-at-all-the-wrong-times self and attempting to fit into the mold of a warmer, more approachable extrovert.

I suck at filling that mold, by the way.

Am I awkward, or is it the people I try to have a normal conversation with? Why is it that my questions always go ignored, my snarky remarks get followed by silence, my presence not even be acknowledged? Is it because of who I am, or who I'm trying (and failing) to be? Am I not relaxed enough? Am I a ghost?

For once, I'd like to be that person that people listen to. I want people to be interested in what I have to say. I'd like to be able to actually relate to others, and have inside jokes and be able to laugh about stupid things that happen instead of slumping in my seat and feeling my insides curl in embarrassment, because I know I'm alone in what I go through. Something weird happens. "Has this ever happened to you?" I ask. "No", they say.

What do I do then?

It's like drowning in the middle of a deep pool, and no one's offering me a hand because they've never seen a person drown before.

When you hear the saying "I feel most alone when I'm surrounded by people", know that I understand it completely. Oh wait, you probably weren't even paying attention.