We're too young to be this old.

Woah, talk about being on a hiatus for a week. Considering it's me, and I usually write everyday, it's been awhile. So, hello.

I keep hearing people talk about stressing over school, or my job is keeping me from this, or my parents are pushing me to do this, or blah blah blah. Stop. Breathe. Now, let's talk.

I'm starting summer school on the 7th, with a 40 hour work week which is becoming more and more stressful. I work at an up and coming airline. We are constantly adding more planes to the company, and with me working in Technical Publications, we have to get manuals printed for the aircrafts ASAP or planes don't fly. Yeah, it can get pretty stressful. I'm also looking at moving out and buying a new car. So stress? Yeah, I have a little bit of it, but I'm not wound so tight my head could explode. We are too young to be this old..

I am 20 years old, and yet I used to sit on my ass in front of facebook for the better part of the day. Really? I'm sure others do it too. Or Twitter. Or Youtube. Or whatever your prerogative is. Why are we doing this? Why are we living virtually when we could be living in the real world? Experiencing, learning, growing?

Guess what I'm doing today? I'm going to go climb a mountain. Yes, I'm going to go climb a mountain because I want to. I'm going to go experience. I'm going to go enjoy fresh air. I'm going to go eat a buffalo burger loaded with 4 kinds of cheeses. And I'm going to go drink lemonade with sugar on the rim. Ladies and gentleman, why are we so stressed out with things that shouldn't matter?

My job? I used to stress out over it because there was so much to do. But now? After I clock out in the afternoon, I don't think about it. It doesn't even cross my mind. (The cool thing about my job though is that I get to go to the grand canyon on Tuesday). However, despite my up and coming school work, my job, my parents, my apartment hunt, I refuse to stress myself out. It's life. It's an adventure. So strap on your hiking boots and let's go climb a mountain.

It's all in the Keyboard

I have been in this mopey place for a while now, and honestly, I'm tired of it. I'm tired of complaining, I'm tired of not being busy enough, and I'm tired of myself.

I need to find more things to do. I can say I'm "at work" and one would assume that I am busy. Wrong. I sit at my computer and occasionally make copies or get a manual together, but all in all, I only have time to spend up in my own brain. I can say I'm working out, but again, when you are running, you try to imagine yourself elsewhere so you can last longer on the treadmill. (Especially when you are trying to impress the cute blonde boy that you see everyday).

So here is my proposition to you all. If you are reading this, I need a suggestion. I need to fill my time with physically and mentally tiring things. Activities of all sorts. Your suggestions will be turned into actions. I will do them, take pictures, and it will get my mind off the many things that like to roam around in my head all day.

Let's do this. Let's make Katie busy.

Feelings.

I wish I didn't have them. They are the source of every bad decision. They are the core of every wrong that I've done. They are the cause of my stupidity. I hate them. Life would be so much simpler if they would leave. Can't I give them away? I would really like to do that. I would offer them up willingly. I don't want these feelings anymore, I don't want any of this. I didn't ask for it, after all.

Here, take them, they're yours.

Maggie.

"Wow, I guess she couldn't make it to the summer." My mom said this as she lifted my dog up by the legs and tossed her outside.

This was my dream a few nights ago. A horrible, frightening dream. My dog, Maggie, will be turning 15 in July. 15, and I'm terrified. Every day, when she doesn't hear me call her name, I get frightened and rush to see if she is still breathing. I picked her out in the puppy litter. I cradled her. I walked her. I remember the days when we took her to shows and she won first place. I remember looking at her red and white fur and seeing the shape of heart that was embedded into it. I remember the nights that she would take off down our street in Pennsylvania and my mom would have to hop into the car to go get her. Man, she was fast. Maggie. she's my childhood dog. She'll always be my puppy.

She's somewhat blind. She's deaf. But there is nothing wrong with her nose. It makes me smile when she'll get up when she smells steak, but not when we yell her name. She'll vaguely see me going through the fridge, perk up, and head in my direction to see what she can get out of me. She loves peanut butter. She loves dog treats. She loves me. When I pet her, she nips at me. I love that dog and I have to mentally prepare myself for what's to come. I know it's soon.

I love you, Maggie. You're my puppy.

The Airport

You know those moments that stick with you, no matter how insignificant they are? This is one of mine.

I was sitting in the El Paso airport. The whole day I had been trying to get from DFW to McCarren Airport, and being two of the busiest airports in the entire nation, I was unsuccessful. I had flown from DFW to San Antonio to Midland, to God only knows where else. This would've been my fifth flight of the day and it was going to be my last. My dad had caved and bought me the plane ticket. So as I sat there, my stress relieved, I remember turning on my iPod, and the first song that came on was Designer Skyline by Owl City. I remember sitting there, looking at the ugly blue carpet, the scary man sitting next to me, and drinking my iced white mocha. I remember, regardless of what was going on around me, I was happy. It was this feeling of bliss...stress-free bliss.

It was insignificant, unimportant, but that feeling, it stays with you.

Sometimes...

Sometimes I get in these moods, where I want to write all day, everyday. Then some, I sit there and groan because I'm trying to force myself to. I'm definitely in the previous category as of right now.

But thankfully, this is exactly what I'm writing about today. My indecisiveness. I can never stick with something. All my ideals are conflicting. I'm never even on the same page with myself. Oh, you want me to explain further?

Just a little over a year ago, you could say I was an idiot. I was happy, ignorant of what the world had in store for me, and going about my days as a stupid teenager. Now, a year later, I want those same ideas back. I want to be ignorant of the real world and I want to stop acting like a damn adult. I want to be carefree, not worry about my future and I want to up and leave. That's how I used to be, so why not do it again? I grew up, fast, I might add, and had to make decisions that I never thought I would have to make. I made adult decisions with an immature mind, which led me to where I am today. People say that growing up too fast is hard, right? Well, they aren't lying. Going from that state of mind to this one, it's one of indecisiveness and personal struggle. That's where the problem starts. I can pretend to be happy, know that I should be, and I can even put on the best performance you can imagine But in my head, there is a war raging on. One of me screaming, no, over and over again, and the other is screaming at me to shut up and go for it.

The conflictions go further.

"You don't want that, you don't need that." For a week I can repeat this phrase. I can convince myself entirely that this is the truth. However, a week later, I can look at that and say, "No, you've got to go back. You've got to chase after it." This pattern has been continuing in my head for 6 months now. These battles are going on, and there is no one who can even give me a sword for a fighting chance.

The war is coming up. I wonder who will win?

The "See you Later" girl.

This isn't going to be a pity party. This isn't looking for sympathy. I've traveled down the "sympathy road" before, and it makes me feel more pathetic than any better.

But I digress...

I am the "see you later" girl. I am the girl that is never right now. You won't know it at the moment, you'll think everything is grand, but you'll get the feeling. It's inevitable because everyone gets the feeling. It's the feeling of, "She's not good enough for me, I can definitely do better."
You like the way I look? There is someone out there who is better looking than I am. You like the way I talk? There is someone out there who is smarter and more comical than I could ever be. Go after her.

I'm average. No talents that overwhelm you. No big jokes that you've never heard before. I'll sit there, give you a date that you could compare to any other, saying the right things at the right time. I'll let you walk me to my door and when you get back in your car, you won't give me a second thought. I'll be the girl you call when you're lonely. I'll be the girl that you call to perk you up. You'll never call me, "The one". You'll never say I crossed your mind twice.

Disclosure.

Happiness is sitting at home on a Saturday night watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer and eating a bowl of vanilla ice cream with warm nutella on top.

Bliss is sitting at the park on a warm day, sprawled across a big blanket, reading "How-to" books.

Satisfaction is running faster than you ever have before and stepping off that machine, impressed with yourself.

Simplicity is sitting in the kitchen with your mom discussing recipes that you want to try in the next week.

Laughter is driving in the car with your best friend blaring loud music and dancing, making other people feel awkward.

Nostalgia is remembering the days of high school, making overalls for Spirit sisters, and wishing you'd appreciated it more.

Joy is going to the mall, finding out that everything you look fabulous in, is 50% off.

Flattering is when a someone you care about tells you that you are beautiful.

Delicious is going to The Golden Spoon, getting frozen yogurt with butterfinger on top.

Scream.

I got in a fight with my best friend tonight. I know it wasn't the only thing that I was mad about, but I won't go into details. All I know is, is that crying to the beat of Lady Gaga's "Alejandro" was a first for me. I was angry, I was frustrated, I was sad, I was every bad emotion you could think of. I cried and cried for the main portion of my ride home (about 15 minutes), and trying to drive with blurry eyes produced quite a challenge. So I stopped, for the sole purpose that I couldn't drive. I pulled into the gate and rounded the corner, and screamed. I screamed for everything I've felt for the past 5 months. I screamed for my unhappiness. I screamed for my anger. Most of all, I screamed for myself. As Spike Milligan said, “Listen, someone's screaming in agony - fortunately I speak it fluently”.

When it comes to confrontation, I will always turn the opposite way and run. When I get mad at someone, I will always feel guilty. No matter who's right, who's wrong, I will feel guilty. It's inevitable.

I want to scream, I want to yell, I want to voice every bottled up emotion that I've ever felt, but I can't. Why can't I do this? I want to yell at everyone who has pissed me off. I want to look them in the face and tell them how much I hate them for what they did to me. I want them to understand. The fact that I never will be able to do that, pains me to no end. I will stay quiet. I will let the storm pass, and I will eventually act like nothing went wrong. I will be a ghost. I will disappear. And then? Then, maybe you'll miss me.

Death

One of the pilots that I work with has been unexpectedly gone for a few days. We later found out that his father passed away, with no warning. I'm not sure what happened, but I thought it rude to ask (but prayers are gladly welcomed).

As my coworker and I walked through the hallway, we asked others to sign the card and give $2 or $3 for the fruit basket we sent, we came across a girl who works upstairs. We explained to her what happened, and she gave what cash she had in her wallet. As we handed her the card, she looked at us, and replied, "Can I think about it?" Most people had written a simple "My condolences" and signed underneath. We looked at her in confusion.

"It's okay, you can just sign your name if you don't know what to say." As we said this, she looked up at us and started getting teary eyed.
"No you don't understand. I hate it when people just sign their name. I've seen every kind of death imaginable...murder, helicopter crash, suicide...and I need to write something unique and special. I've been to more than 40 funerals in my lifetime...and it's hard. It needs to be perfect. So yes, I need to think about it." With a concerned face, we responded with,
"I'm so sorry, we didn't know. Yes, we will come back."

As we walked back back to our desks downstairs, we walked in silence, thinking about how personally this girl had taken the death of this man's father. I have only been to one funeral in my life, and I was asked to sit outside of the room where it was being held, in the foyer. (My parents didn't think I was able to handle it, and being an 8 year old, I agreed). That was my grandmother's funeral, and I wasn't even able to see the service. This girl has seen death, she has witnessed it, she has had an affair with it. I've barely held death's hand. I felt so immature when she said it, so young. I haven't been through what this girl has gone through. And yet, she is my age.

Take into account your losses, how do you cope? How can someone go through losing a loved one, and go do their daily activities? I can't personally input my thoughts, because I have no recollection of how it feels to lose someone. Moving past it, accepting it, dealing with the grief? I can't wrap my brain around it.