I'm the kind of person who gets really emotional about things (i.e. basically EVERYTHING makes me cry - sad, happy, scary, you name it) so if I shed a few tears while writing this post, you'll have to deal/you won't even know because you're looking at a computer screen and not my face.
So last semester I was kind of a mess - a super emo kid who wasn't happy with anything, mega complainer (at least in my head and to Marisa), bump on a log, pothole in the road, every single red light on Monticello and Richmond Rd...combined... You get the picture.
Over winter break, I went to Passion. [Background: Passion is this super huge christian conference where tons and tons of college-aged students go to Atlanta to listen to talks, jam to some awesome worship music, have discussion groups, etc.] OMG (literally). It was so good. I learned so much about myself and so much about my God. With Him, ALL things are possible. I knew it before, but my experience with Passion absolutely made it a much more tangible thing to grasp. In summary: YAY!!!
Ever since then, I've just been in this phenomenal mood. So excited and happy and joyful, basically all of the good emotions. I am really enjoying all of my classes and professors (I decided I liked them all BEFORE they gave me chocolate covered espresso beans and cookies...excellent course evals here we come). Also I'm RUNNING AGAIN!!! After my foot...incident..., my abilities to run (or even walk for that matter) were vastly hindered. Thwarted no longer! I'm mega out of shape but that is soon to change (cue tears...wow told you I was lame). You know what? Not everything has been the best, but I still had this great attitude about everything. It's so cool and awesome and God is good! Another thing, I AM NOW A DECLARED ART MAJOR!!! Along with bio, but whatever. Art is my jam, so excited, so excited (more tears) SO EXCITED ahhhhhh!
So lolz at what I just wrote. SO MUCH JOY I wanted to share with the WORLDDDDDDDDDDDDD id rather date a spider or a rat den u
You may be thinking, "Wow, Katie. You are a freak." and you know what? Words can't bring me down!
:D
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
disaster strikes at panera
Today, I drove some friends to Panera (Oh, PS I can have a little bit of gluten now! yay). I figured that I should maybe branch out and try something besides my usual - the chicken caesar sandwich (sometimes with broccoli and cheese soup). I saw that the steak and cheese panini looked promising, so I decided to give it a whirl.
Just in the first bite, something seemed off. It tasted like a sicky-sweet version of horseradish, which could only mean one thing: a mayonnaise-based spread.
Omg.
But I couldn't freak out or anything, I had to be calm and collected so the girls would trust me to give them a ride back to campus. I needed to be a good example, I couldn't be all complaining and whiney. That's just not cool. So I decided to suck it up and eat the rest of the sandwich. Mistake.
"Keep calm, Katie. You'll be ok. Be a big girl, it'll be alright," I told myself over and over. It was very difficult to hear my reassuring words since my mind was a whirlwind of chaos and destruction.
I couldn't finish the whole sandwich, it was too awful. I just felt my arteries clogging and my world coming to an end. I finally made it back to campus..
As soon as I got to my room, I told my roommate the horrible news. I was almost in tears. She suggested that I brush my teeth, which would seem like the logical thing to do. But no. Not when that awful taste lingered in my mouth and down my throat, which, btw, felt like it was closing up (it was probably just the excessive coating of lard drowning my esophagus). I was not about to contaminate my tooth brush. I finally just brushed my teeth because I couldn't stand myself anymore, but that didn't help the taste go away (or rid me from the feeling of self loathing). The only thing I could think of besides getting mouth-throat-stomach replacement surgery that would help soothe the pain was to swallow mouthwash. It helped, but now, four hours later, I still feel contaminated, violated, unclean. When will this feeling ever go away? Days? Weeks? Months? YEARS?!?
After basically my whole life of being terrified and outright disgusted by mayonnaise, I finally eat a sandwich with mayo on it. What did I learn? That I was correct in thinking mayonnaise was an evil that should be avoided at all costs, including the privilege to go out to eat with your friends. They say what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, but I question the validity of that statement since the past four hours I've been miserable, and I'm not sure if I can ever heal from this experience. I'll manage.
Hopefully.
Just in the first bite, something seemed off. It tasted like a sicky-sweet version of horseradish, which could only mean one thing: a mayonnaise-based spread.
Omg.
But I couldn't freak out or anything, I had to be calm and collected so the girls would trust me to give them a ride back to campus. I needed to be a good example, I couldn't be all complaining and whiney. That's just not cool. So I decided to suck it up and eat the rest of the sandwich. Mistake.
"Keep calm, Katie. You'll be ok. Be a big girl, it'll be alright," I told myself over and over. It was very difficult to hear my reassuring words since my mind was a whirlwind of chaos and destruction.
I couldn't finish the whole sandwich, it was too awful. I just felt my arteries clogging and my world coming to an end. I finally made it back to campus..
As soon as I got to my room, I told my roommate the horrible news. I was almost in tears. She suggested that I brush my teeth, which would seem like the logical thing to do. But no. Not when that awful taste lingered in my mouth and down my throat, which, btw, felt like it was closing up (it was probably just the excessive coating of lard drowning my esophagus). I was not about to contaminate my tooth brush. I finally just brushed my teeth because I couldn't stand myself anymore, but that didn't help the taste go away (or rid me from the feeling of self loathing). The only thing I could think of besides getting mouth-throat-stomach replacement surgery that would help soothe the pain was to swallow mouthwash. It helped, but now, four hours later, I still feel contaminated, violated, unclean. When will this feeling ever go away? Days? Weeks? Months? YEARS?!?
After basically my whole life of being terrified and outright disgusted by mayonnaise, I finally eat a sandwich with mayo on it. What did I learn? That I was correct in thinking mayonnaise was an evil that should be avoided at all costs, including the privilege to go out to eat with your friends. They say what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, but I question the validity of that statement since the past four hours I've been miserable, and I'm not sure if I can ever heal from this experience. I'll manage.
Hopefully.
Monday, January 9, 2012
the horrors of losing teeth
If I could erase one thing from my childhood, one thing that I never would have had to go through in my juvenile years, I'm pretty sure I'd choose losing my teeth. Sure, at first it was alright, but as soon as I ate that first meal after my tooth was gone and got a corn chip stuck in the tender wound, it was no longer an exciting step into big-kid land. It was torture. Not even the tooth fairy's money could make up for that kind of agony.
You know what? I can't even remember losing my first tooth it was THAT BAD. Erased from my memory, gone.
When I was in third grade, I lost a tooth that came with more pain than it should have. I was swinging in between two desks in my old second grade teacher's classroom, when I slipped and landed flat on my face. Blood was everywhere, the wind was knocked out of me, and one of my teeth was lying on the floor next to me. No stitches, but the next day I had a pretty sick fat lip. Just in time for picture day, nice.
Five of my teeth were pulled by the dentist. Now, getting teeth pulled is awful. It means your grown up teeth aren't ready to come in yet, leaving the fresh pink gum vulnerable for even more time - more opportunities for corn chips to stab you. I remember one of the teeth that the dentist pulled sailed over my head behind the counter. Great. Not only do I have this tender gash in my mouth, but the tooth fairy wouldn't even pay me full amount.
The worst thing about losing teeth is that there is no pleasant way to do it. You can yank it out before it is ready, but then it bleeds a lot and you have this open wound in your mouth for longer than it's worth. Or, you can wait until it falls out on its own, but then every time you eat apples or corn on the cob you risk bending the tooth in the wrong direction, causing pain or early removal of the tooth. Nothing involving the loss of teeth is joyous; it's a lose-lose-lose situation.
I hated pulling out my own teeth. My cousin, Amanda, would sometimes stay with us during the summer, so I got her to pull out numerous teeth. I think our guests were weirded out when they'd come over to find me laying in Amanda's lap full of bloody paper towels and a pile of teeth on the coffee table next to us. I think our record was three in one day.
From second grade to seventh grade I looked forward to the day where I'd lose my last tooth. I was in Finish Line at the mall getting ready to buy a new pair of sneakers. As the lady went to get my size, the tooth came out. It was a premature loss, so the blood flew. Luckily for me, my mom had a stash of napkins in her purse. Unfortunately, the only means of disposal for the bloody tissues was a see-through plastic bag. When the lady came back, I was holding bloody tissues in one hand, my tooth in the other, had a bloody tissue in my mouth, and my mother was holding the see-through bag of bloody tissues. Poor lady.
The day that wound was healed was a joyous day, never again would I have to go through the horrifying experience of losing a tooth EVER AGAIN. Then, four years later, came the day I had to get my wisdom teeth cut out.
Getting your wisdom teeth removed is the pinnacle of tooth loss. Rather than just days before you could eat the chips and salsa at the Mexican restaurants, you have to wait WEEKS, sometimes even longer than a month. My diet consisted of jello, yogurt and Ramen (preparing me for college?). When that experience was over. I thought to myself THIS TIME, never again. And I was right. Sort of.
Some time during high school, I started having these horribly realistic dreams about losing my teeth. Once, for example, I was in Walmart waiting for my friend to check out. While I was waiting, I reached in my mouth and pulled out two of my molars that were stuck to each other along with some barnacles. You'd be surprised (...or not) to hear that that was one of the tamer tooth-losing dreams. Time after time, I'd have all of these dreams about my teeth just falling out or becoming absurdly loose. Normally, I'm cool with my dreams because they are so outrageously crazy that I know they aren't real. The teeth dreams, though, seem more realistic than life itself. I was talking to one of my friends about them, and she told me that when you have dreams about losing teeth, you feel like you're losing control of your life. I'm a super stressed out person all the time, so I think it's a valid point. In a few days, I'm going to take the Optometry Admissions Test, so of course last night I dreamt that I was still losing baby teeth (the still having baby teeth dreams aren't as bad as the losing permanent teeth dreams...). I woke up counting the teeth in my mouth, making sure they were all there.
They were.
You know what? I can't even remember losing my first tooth it was THAT BAD. Erased from my memory, gone.
When I was in third grade, I lost a tooth that came with more pain than it should have. I was swinging in between two desks in my old second grade teacher's classroom, when I slipped and landed flat on my face. Blood was everywhere, the wind was knocked out of me, and one of my teeth was lying on the floor next to me. No stitches, but the next day I had a pretty sick fat lip. Just in time for picture day, nice.
Five of my teeth were pulled by the dentist. Now, getting teeth pulled is awful. It means your grown up teeth aren't ready to come in yet, leaving the fresh pink gum vulnerable for even more time - more opportunities for corn chips to stab you. I remember one of the teeth that the dentist pulled sailed over my head behind the counter. Great. Not only do I have this tender gash in my mouth, but the tooth fairy wouldn't even pay me full amount.
The worst thing about losing teeth is that there is no pleasant way to do it. You can yank it out before it is ready, but then it bleeds a lot and you have this open wound in your mouth for longer than it's worth. Or, you can wait until it falls out on its own, but then every time you eat apples or corn on the cob you risk bending the tooth in the wrong direction, causing pain or early removal of the tooth. Nothing involving the loss of teeth is joyous; it's a lose-lose-lose situation.
I hated pulling out my own teeth. My cousin, Amanda, would sometimes stay with us during the summer, so I got her to pull out numerous teeth. I think our guests were weirded out when they'd come over to find me laying in Amanda's lap full of bloody paper towels and a pile of teeth on the coffee table next to us. I think our record was three in one day.
From second grade to seventh grade I looked forward to the day where I'd lose my last tooth. I was in Finish Line at the mall getting ready to buy a new pair of sneakers. As the lady went to get my size, the tooth came out. It was a premature loss, so the blood flew. Luckily for me, my mom had a stash of napkins in her purse. Unfortunately, the only means of disposal for the bloody tissues was a see-through plastic bag. When the lady came back, I was holding bloody tissues in one hand, my tooth in the other, had a bloody tissue in my mouth, and my mother was holding the see-through bag of bloody tissues. Poor lady.
The day that wound was healed was a joyous day, never again would I have to go through the horrifying experience of losing a tooth EVER AGAIN. Then, four years later, came the day I had to get my wisdom teeth cut out.
Getting your wisdom teeth removed is the pinnacle of tooth loss. Rather than just days before you could eat the chips and salsa at the Mexican restaurants, you have to wait WEEKS, sometimes even longer than a month. My diet consisted of jello, yogurt and Ramen (preparing me for college?). When that experience was over. I thought to myself THIS TIME, never again. And I was right. Sort of.
Some time during high school, I started having these horribly realistic dreams about losing my teeth. Once, for example, I was in Walmart waiting for my friend to check out. While I was waiting, I reached in my mouth and pulled out two of my molars that were stuck to each other along with some barnacles. You'd be surprised (...or not) to hear that that was one of the tamer tooth-losing dreams. Time after time, I'd have all of these dreams about my teeth just falling out or becoming absurdly loose. Normally, I'm cool with my dreams because they are so outrageously crazy that I know they aren't real. The teeth dreams, though, seem more realistic than life itself. I was talking to one of my friends about them, and she told me that when you have dreams about losing teeth, you feel like you're losing control of your life. I'm a super stressed out person all the time, so I think it's a valid point. In a few days, I'm going to take the Optometry Admissions Test, so of course last night I dreamt that I was still losing baby teeth (the still having baby teeth dreams aren't as bad as the losing permanent teeth dreams...). I woke up counting the teeth in my mouth, making sure they were all there.
They were.
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