Confession #20

I hold grudges more frequently  and for longer periods of time than I would like to admit.

The biggest grudge that comes to mind is one that I've been holding for about four years now. It's particularly stupid because I haven't even seen the offending person in almost as long. I've tried, but I just can't let go of it.

In brighter news, I had the opportunity to hang out with someone new last night, and I didn't feel nearly as awkward as I could have—or would have, had I met this person, say, six months ago. However, I still spent most of the time fidgeting. Baby steps.

Confession #19

I'm a proud nerd, and it's all my friends' fault.

When I was in middle school, I was a huge fan of Hilary Duff. I loved her acting, her music, and generally everything about her. I think that's perfectly acceptable of a twelve-year-old, but I had one friend who disagreed. She seemed to believe we were much to old to enjoy Hilary Duff, and she made it known fairly often. One instance in particular has stuck with me for years. I had a slumber party for my thirteenth birthday, and at some point during the night, we were all flipping through the numerous "teen" magazines I had hoarded. In the fan-submitted artwork section on the back page of one magazine, this friend found a very crudely-drawn picture of my favorite actress. She pointed it out and asked, there in front of my closest friends, "How old do you think that kid was?" Or in other words, "Why don't you GROW UP?" She was supposed to be one of my best friends, but she utterly humiliated me at my own birthday party!

Flash-forward about a year into the future and I had outgrown my Hilary Duff phase. I discovered, however, that even with my (somewhat) broadened horizons, I still wasn't watching the same shows as the rest of the kids my age, or listening to the same music. I tried to tell myself that there were plenty of people out there who liked the same things as me, but I could always hear my friend's voice in my head, criticizing my taste. It made me feel like an even bigger outcast. (I already felt like one, you see, because I was rarely in school and hardly knew anybody.)

Jump forward another year and I felt completely isolated and alone. Being so sick and missing so much school caused me to repeat the ninth grade, so now I literally didn't know anybody in my classes, and the whole situation was just miserable. To top it off, my further-broadened horizons still didn't mesh with the rest of the kids my age. Then a funny thing happened. Four new people friends wandered into my life and turned it upside-down. For the better! Not only did they approve of me and my company, but they didn't even care that I spent my free time writing fanfiction, or that most of my favorite music was forty years old. They didn't find my love of Superman strange, or make fun of me for having a huge crush on an actor who is old enough to be my dad. All of those things that certain other people would have rolled their eyes at, these new friends accepted! I hadn't felt accepted in so long!

So now when I go ranting about whichever old sci-fi show is currently on my mind, or start singing songs nobody else knows, or dance in a very outdated manner (Hand Jive, anyone?), you can blame them. They're the ones who helped me learn to be proud rather than embarrassed and ashamed of who I am.

Ha! A meaningful post published with two minutes to spare!

Confession #18

I forget about this blog every single week.

Seriously. You'd think after four months, I would remember my self-imposed obligation, but no. As soon as I hit [PUBLISH POST] each Saturday, it completely leaves my mind. Luckily, I always remember it again, usually just in the nick of time. Of course, by the time I do remember, it's late at night and I'm too tired to think of anything good to write, which is why so many of my posts are silly superficial things. And I'm OCD enough that I must post on Saturday, so composing a thought-out and well-written post on Sunday is not an option. (I'm also OCD enough that using OCD as an adjective bugs me... but such phrasing is apparently socially acceptable, and it's faster to type. And no, the irony is not lost on me. I realize that my parenthetical comments are taking much more time to type than it would to simply rephrase "I'm OCD." Oh well. Too late now. This is what happens when I wait until late at night to type a confession. I feel rushed and begin to type faster than I can think, and what should be a nice, organized post turns into my rambling internal monologue, typed up for the world to see.)

Next week I'll try for something with substance!

Confession #17

I have a nasty habit of starting projects and never finishing them.

Artwork for my bedroom walls. Various cross-stitch patterns. Learning to play the guitar. Learning to play the piano (keyboard, technically). Countless stories on my hard drive (most of them not even having a complete first chapter, let alone an ending). My first real knitting project (though I've completed two scarves, two pairs of leg warmers, and one and a half tea cozies since then). Organizing my music collection. At least six books sitting on my shelf. The list goes on...

Confession #16

Some updates first: Wednesday I had my appointment with the nephrologist. Good news! He said that the people in radiology were just reading too much into the ultrasound, and while my renal cortices are on the thin side, he isn't worried about it at all. He said he doesn't see anything wrong with my kidneys at all, but I'm going to have some more lab work done to check one last hormone, just in case. After crossing out the kidneys, we're left back at square one when it comes to finding the cause of my wacky blood pressure. It's been a few years since I've had my heart looked at, so the doctor wants me to have an EKG done. That's no biggie. I've had at least three done before.

In other news, it seems my obsession with t-shirts may actually be good for me. I wore this on Sunday when my mom and I went shopping, and everywhere we went, people commented on it. I would have never spoken to those strangers otherwise, so I guess my shirt collection is providing me with a much needed swift kick in the rear.

And now for this week's confession...

I sometimes think that, given my age and romantic history (which is literally nonexistent), I will wind up being a crazy old cat lady.

You know the type. 

But, sometimes when I find myself thinking that, I think Pfft, what do I need a boyfriend for? and revert back to the grade school belief that boys are dumb.

Confession #15

I introduced my little sister to my favorite shows (and movies) just so I would have someone to fangirl with.

(Yes, I'm using fangirl as a verb.)

I told her that it was because I wanted to show her some quality programs (kids' shows these days just keep getting dumber and dumber!) but for the most part, I just wanted somebody to watch TV with me and squeal and aww over the same things I do. Most of my favorite shows have a cult following, so I know I'm not the only one that enjoys them, but most of my favorites are also no longer on TV. (That or they're British and not on basic American channels.) This means that most of my friends either haven't heard of or just haven't seen most of my favorite shows. I could turn to the internet to find other fans to fangirl with, but it's so much more fun to do it in person! Enter my little sister.

My little sister has listened to me obsess over this and obsess over that for years, so she knows how wonderful I find certain things. Impressionable eleven-year-old that she is, it wasn't hard to get her to find all those things wonderful too. 

She now wanders around the house singing songs from Dr. Horrible's Sing-Slong Blog* and quoting Buffy the Vampire Slayer. She laughs and rolls her eyes at Edward because she knows that Spike would eat him for breakfast. During spare time at school, she doodles characters from Doctor Who, and reenacts scenes from Firefly despite her friends having no clue what she's going on about. If I walk into a room and ask "Who ya gonna call?" she shouts "Ghostbusters!" without missing a beat. She sings odes about Star Wars and pities those unfortunate enough to be wearing a red shirt. She even knows how to properly greet a visitor from Ork. In short, I have turned my little sister into as much of a nerd as me. 

And she loves it. So, despite my sneaky selfish motives, it really is a win-win situation.

*Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog is one of the few things that many of my friends enjoy as well. I'm slowly but surely converting all of them though. Given enough time, they shall all see that I'm not just loony and obsessive... I actually like great stuff!

Confession #14

I am a little embarrassed to be starting my freshman year of college this fall, at the age of twenty.

However, had I started last fall, I seriously doubt I would have survived. I spent most of the winter on antibiotics for sinus infections, and my allergies have only gotten worse since everything started blooming outside.

But what can you do?

(Hey, look at that! I can be concise!)