So there's this boy...

I'm in a weird mood tonight, so I'm going to indulge these strange self-pitying impulses and most likely come off sounding like a whiny thirteen-year-old. You've been warned - read on at your own risk.

So there's this guy that I've had quite a crush on for quite a while. If I was smart and mature, I would have told him how I felt a long time ago. Instead, I continue to pine from a distance, over-analyzing everything, and going through some lovely roller coaster rides of "He loves me; he loves me not."

Tonight I'm trying to recover from a crazy upside-down loop that ended in a plummet of fifty-some feet. You know, the kind where you're feeling good until suddenly the world drops out from under you, and you swear you can feel your insides suspended above you as the rest of your body falls towards the ground. I hate those. (Yes, I'm being ridiculously over-dramatic for the therapeutic value of creative writing.)

I'm pretty sure this guy is moving towards a relationship with someone else. Yes, I could be wrong. However, my gut instincts (and, yes, information gleaned from Facebook) generally aren't too far from the truth. If I was smart and mature, I'd walk up to him and just tell him how I feel.

But now we're really good friends, and I don't want to risk losing that friendship. And I'm graduating in four months (yikes!), so even if things did work out it probably wouldn't work out in the long run.

Mostly I'm just too much of a coward to put myself out there that much.

So I'm feeling lonely again, knowing in my mind that I'm still very young, and that everything happens for a reason, and the guy who is perfect for me will show up sometime, and that I don't actually need a guy to make my life complete anyway.

But knowing all that doesn't make me feel less lonely tonight.

At least I know I'll feel better in the morning, because I always do. Tomorrow morning I'll wake up at the crack of dawn to get to the dentist before class, and have a fabulously productive day. Maybe I'll even get to the mules!

Racquetball: Possibly the Craziest Sport Ever Invented

Today was Daddy-Daughter Day! And, because my Dad is who he is, the day started with a trip to the gym. He introduced me to racquetball, the craziest sport ever invented (in my opinion). If you've never tried racquetball, you should. You should also try racquetball whenever you are stressed or angry, because I'm pretty sure it's the only sport that involves hitting a rubber ball as hard as you possibly can and watching it bounce off four walls, a ceiling, and a floor.

Dad's theory is that racquetball was invented by a guy in jail, since you basically play in a large cell.

I'd like to apologize to everyone in the surrounding courts and weight rooms for my girly squeals, shrieks, and yelps. I'm kind if a sissy sometimes. I'd also like to apologize for the increasing frequency of swear words that came out of my mouth, especially since I'd forgotten we were in a facility belonging to a Christian college.

Racquetball is actually much more difficult than it seems. A small rubber ball bounces everywhere, and you have to either hit it before it bounces twice - and hit it towards the front wall, even if that means slamming it hard enough against the back wall for it to reach the front wall without touching the floor - or get out of the way so your opponent can hit the ball.

Yeah, it's crazy. But it's also surprisingly fun! I'm definitely making some friends play with me when I get back to school (you know you want to). Which, someone pointed out to me yesterday, is less than two weeks away. What happened to my vacation?

Becoming a grownup, one baby step at a time

Today, I applied for my first ever credit card. I guess that's just one more part of being an adult, but it's kind of weird.

When we were younger, Julie and I liked to play house. Of course, like all normal siblings, we often fought about who got to play which part, and who got to use the good purse (we preferred the fancy white clutch to the other hand-me-down purses from Mom). We had one credit card to play with, so we fought over that, too. I'm sure there are actual fake credit cards for kids today, but ours looked totally legit. It was clear plastic - one of those freebies we got in the mail in an attempt to convince Mom and Dad to get a fancier card from a different company with a higher spending limit, blah blah blah. Julie and I loved it, though. It made use feel so grown up to go to the pretend store and hand the credit card to whoever was cashier at the moment in exchange for plastic pizza and corn.

The weirdest part about applying for a credit card was that when I asked Dad his opinion (he's my financial adviser), he didn't have much to say. He just looked at the website I was on, asked a couple questions that I could answer, and said I should go for it.

I guess the fact that I understand most of the terms and conditions means I'm that much closer to being an adult. Next on the list: finding a job, or at least finding how to get a job!

And now for something completely out of character...

I'm not much of a girly-girl. The only makeup I wear on a daily basis is chapstick and one quick swipe of mascara. I dry my hair only to keep from freezing. Said hair is usually in a ponytail. I only got my ears re-pierced six months ago (that's a story for another day). I can look nice when I need to - although for some reason people are always shocked when I wear a dress - but normally I just can't be bothered. I'd just rather be comfortable, and spend my time doing something else fairly useless.

But tonight I'm sitting in my sister's senior prom dress, wearing makeup on both my upper and lower lashes, as well as tinted lip gloss (what, it's all I had!), with curled hair and a pearl necklace. Is there a wedding reception tonight? A New Year's gala?

Nope.

For some reason that I can't even figure out, tonight I had the urge to get dressed up. Part of that was probably because I got a lot of "Did you lose weight?" compliments this holiday season, and the best test for someone who doesn't own a scale is to try on clothes that haven't fit in a while. Another part was that when I got out of the shower this afternoon, I felt sexy, and wanted to take that sexiness to the max.

Another part was probably because of that dream I had the other night, when Josh Groban was my boyfriend, and he took me to the Grammy's, and I looked gorgeous on the red carpet, and everyone was interviewing me.

But tonight I have nowhere to go. I'm just going to sit here all pretty, because I spruced myself up for myself. I spent a couple hours playing dress-up like a little girl, even though I'm officially an adult now (I think). I haven't felt this sexy and beautiful in ages - and I didn't do it to impress a guy. I'm not taking pictures; I'm not asking other people to compliment me. I know I'm beautiful and sexy, whether I'm all dolled up or not.

This is a pretty good start to my mental health for 2011, if I do say so myself!