It's all about the Wall

I came back to my apartment today from a day out with my mama, and what did I find but all three of my roommates (plus one cute Asian guy) painting the living room walls yellow and lime green. Wow! I knew that they were all wanting to paint the place, because they've been complaining about the whiteness since they've moved in, but I certainly wasn't expecting to come home today to find a totally different apartment. They also moved in a bunch more furniture and rearranged what we already had. It's pretty cool that these girls get something in there mind and actually follow through so quickly. It's making me realize how negative and inactive I really am. It's a fun thing to realize about oneself, for real.
For example, when they first told me that they were going to paint, what popped into my mind and eventually came out of my mouth was, "Who's going to be doing all this painting? Does anyone really know how to paint a house? It's going to be really hard to paint around all the doors, cabinets, outlets, and the refrigerator. And do you really want to paint it all white again when we move out in less than twelve months?" But I'll be damned if we all didn't just do it in two hours, which includes moving the fridge after Paige, one of the roomies, persuaded me that it could be done.
Now I'm the only one in my apartment that doesn't have her walls painted. And I must say that it's made me feel a little left out and behind. This feeling is not unfamiliar to me though. (I just realized that I could start talking about me feeling like I never fit in, but I've decided to spare you and me of that agony tonight.) Let's just stick to this decorating thing. So instead of painting my walls, which even after witnessing how easy it really is I'm still not convinced I need to do it, I've decided to put up lots of things up. This includes, but is not limited to...
a mermaid mirror my Aint Liz gave to me,
my happy, Mexican, paper flags,
a Maxfield Parrish calender,
a hanky my mama got at Goodwill,
a dry erase board that I keep my schedule and notes written on,
and a few paintings.
So I'm pretty content at the moment. At least have these few things up, right? There is still one wall of my room that is completely bare.
Do you have any ideas for my room? I'm open to any suggestions. Even if you say, "Hey Honeyluna, I think you should line one wall with a snake tank (say that ten times fast), and get yourself a boa constrictor as a pet." Although if you do suggest something such as this please don't expect me to follow through on your very thoughtful suggestion. Thanks and lots of love. -H to the Luna

First Day of School

Today was my first day of being a sophomore. I felt the most stressed I've felt in three months, but it's almost refreshing to have something to care about, work on, anticipate about and all those other stress-inducers. Almost.
I'm taking a nutrition class, my first class of the day which starts at 11:15 am, and I think this one won't be too bad. A little bit of Chem, a little Bio, some knowledge that I got from all the years of attending my mama's Weight Watcher meetings, and good old fashion studying should do the trick.
I also have an Anatomy class at 5:15. This one is going to strangle me, whip my life around, but then I'm going to give it the old Jessie domination that it needs so I can get into Nursing School. One of the many things my teacher told us 240 hopeful nursing students about the class was that on all exams and quizzes we must spell all words correctly, or else it will count wrong. (By the way-FSU Nursing College only accepts 75 students each semester into the program. I'm sure you can see that the majority of us girls, oh, and the occasional gay guy, will not be fulfilling our dreams of becoming nurses. And looking around the huge lecture hall today, I saw quite a few determined looking ladies. and 3 enthusiastic boys. It scared me just a little.) So the thing about the spelling shouldn't have surprised me. I guess it makes sense that nurses know how to spell the correct body part that is giving you trouble or spell the medicine that is going to save your life, instead of something that could possibly kill you. This is all very fine and dandy, but hell, I couldn't even spell Ibuprofen or Aleve when I was asked what drugs I've taken in the last 4 months at the blood bank today.
This class may possibly bring out some bad memories of my dreaded reading/spelling disability. Which is ok, because every time I work through an obstacle like that, it makes me feel that much more accomplished. Learning to read for me was the hardest thing I've had to put my brain through.
God it was hard. The only way I got through it was because I had some amazing teachers and an even better mama who would listen to me struggle but only ever give me positive encouragement. I still cry just thinking about all the times she would sit with me as I tried to sound out words. I'd get so frustrated with myself and tell her "I can't do it, I can do it," and she would only say, "Jessie, yes you can. You can do it." She was right. But I completely believe I wouldn't have been able to learn to read, and love it at the same time, without her help.
So my Anatomy class might be like that; a whole lot of struggle and hard work, but an even bigger sense of accomplishment.
So tomorrow is my second day of being a sophomore, with two whole different classes. I'm nervous and excited. I also feel a little lost right now, but once I get a system down I'm sure I will be feeling better.

New Home

Well, I'm here! I've made it to my very own (not counting my three roommates) apartment, complete with a full-on kitchen, my own room and bathroom (which I'm super happy about), creaking noises from my neighbors up above and a strong bass pounding through the ceiling. But I understand the need for music, oh, and the need to move around, which in these cheaply made apartments means I'm going to be hearing a lot of creaking. I'm not worried about these noises though. When I'm awake, they will become part of the background noise that our brains somehow can magically make seem to disappear and when I'm asleep, well, I'll stay that way.

This morning I was completely aware that once I packed up my clothes I was no longer going to be able to stay home. That's why I laid on the couch for hours, watching something that I can no longer remember what it was, thinking about how I was perfectly happy being a stay-at-home daughter, and why the heck should I move out and go to college when I've been perfectly happy doing nothing? Well logic got to me, or societies expectations did, and I went through my clothes, put the ones I like most in a trash bag and let myself except the fact that I can do this and it's going to happen even if I can't.

Mama, Daddy and I all meet at the new place, unloaded my bed, my desk, my mandolin, and a hell of a lot of other things. My favorite part was when I was in the kitchen, putting away my canned foods and new cooking utensils. My daddy was laid across the couch, his head resting on my mama's lap. Mama was looking at him with eyes full of love and possibly tears. I think they were whispering to each other, or maybe they were using telepathy because something was definitely being said between those two. Whatever it was, it filled me with emotion. Right then, as I was settling in my new home, my parents were settling with their togetherness. Last year when I moved out for the first time, my parents definitely got closer. Now they seem to hold hands all the time and they even stopped to kiss on the stairs of my new apartment like they were teenagers in love for the first time. Hehe. I love that they do that. I only wish that same kind of love for myself one day, because it sure hasn't happened yet.

So mama took me shopping and we got quite a lot of food and household items, which I am so very grateful to have. After mama left me I unpacked and listened to the Beatles White Album. The day really flew by for me. By the time I was half unpacked I was starving and figured it was time for me to create my first meal. I made the fast, simple, trusted meal of spaghetti, salad, and garlic toast. My stove and oven both performed beautifully and the food was good enough. Nothing like Mama makes, but I figure I'll have time to be more creative than a jar of tomato sauce, noodles, a simple salad and sliced bread toasted with butter and garlic powder.

There is so much I could mention about being on my own in this new place. Like the fact that my bathroom smells like plastic from my shower liner, or that I'm just using my dishwasher as a drying rack because truth is I like washing my own dishes. The walls in this place have been painted a billion and one times, and I can tell one of the last tenants had the walls a purple color. Now everything is white and bare, but that will change soon enough. I have a beautiful painting of a girl reading a book that I somehow got from my friend Robert's house for free. I didn't steal it, I promise, but Robert is never going to let me forget that his parents gave me this painting. So she is going to be on my wall. I have some other things that will go up, and since I love the feel of Mama's house, there will probably be some aprons hanging on my wall to emulate what I have grown up with.

Think I will go eat some frozen grapes and read Harry Potter now. I don't have a TV, although I did find out today that cable comes with the apartment. The idea of having a TV in my room is pretty tempting. I can picture myself coming home from school and turning on Project Runway as I eat leftover pizza on my bed. That does sound awfully nice, but I'm sure I'll get a ton more done without a TV. So, no Jessie, you can't have one in your room.

I'm a happy girl. It's been an emotional week, but I think it's all going to be really good. Really good.