on: New years. This post is brought to you by the word "suck".

I could use this time to rant to you {although I am positive that no one reads this blog regularly even though I get views from places like Russia...} about how I do not believe in New Year's resolutions. But I have thoroughly worn out that rant for the past few years to anyone who mentions anything about them. So I don't particularly feel like getting into that. But as far as talking about years, I am not above that.

I've been thinking about years and life for, well, ever. Probably because I'm kind of bored with it all. But it is a strange concept to think about, really. Thinking about this past year is a whole big mix up of silliness. It started out with unsurety, then progressed to worry with a tinge of hope, which grew into complete suckiness with some new prospects, then it became emptiness and major suckness, then a couple weeks of too good to be true, then back to just as much suckness, then even more suckness. Then pretty much that continued until now. Over all there were about 4 nonconsecutive weeks of nonsuck. Which upon looking back at my year can make it worth it, but overall it was a pretty empty year.

I usually spend New Year's and new school years thinking about how I am going to make this year my year. About how things are finally going to be different. Things are finally going to start getting better instead of worse. I'll work really hard and be rewarded for my hard work. Well, I tried that. Didn't work out so hot. Worked on one occasion, but that was it. All of my extremely hard work of this year to prove myself in multiple areas and instances really didn't work out at all. It only made thing suck worse because I still wasn't rewarded or recognized for how much I worked for something that I in the end didn't get.

So, instead of hoping that this year will be the year that things finally go my way, and I will finally be happy I will give up instead. I expect nothing of this next year. This way I can't possibly be disappointed. Maybe I'll be happily surprised, and maybe I'll just be right about how unspectacular my year will be. But I guess I have to face that I have to stop hoping that just because it's a new year, or my birthday, or a new show that I'll magically be happy and everything will start being okay. Because I'm not just going to magically be happy. Which is kind of really annoying that I have to put so much effort into just feeling okay, and then maybe happy, but that's how I got through my sixteenth birthday. The birthday that every girl looks forward to for all of their life. It will be perfect. It will be great. I will be happy. I didn't even try. I wore my favorite dress and went to opening week rehearsal. I didn't even have a full piece of my cake. I didn't have a party. I didn't expect that people would actually be nice to me, or that I would simply be happy. And I must say, it was the best birthday I have even had.

Here's looking at a subpar new year!

on: Sleep.

I'm not very good at sleeping. I never really have been. Even when I was little I'd stay up way late and sleep well into the morning unlike most kids who wake up at the crack of dawn to begin the day of annoying their parents. And I have made a habit of napping during the day because I never seem to get enough sleep during the night. And I'm always tired during the day. Always. Me and sleep have just never really had a good relationship.

When I started taking anti-depressants and trying new ones pretty much every month they made it harder for me to sleep at night. Before that I could sleep at the drop of a hat. Anywhere, anytime, I could nap if I felt so inclined. The only annoying part was that I never stopped being tired or sleepy. But now I had problems with the actual act of sleeping. As well as with napping. The first time I laid down for a nap and couldn't sleep was one of the most bizarre moments of my life.

Lately, though my slumbering skills have been seriously lacking. I've tried taking insomnia medication, but it just made me extremely loopy and not able to remember what I did when I woke up the next morning. Because I was always stupid enough to stay up trying to suck all the productiveness out of my day that I possibly could even past when the drugs kicked in. And sometimes much, much later. One night I made a Tumblr. I don't even know what Tumblr is. But I have one. Some other fun stories come from when I was texting while the drugs kicked in...lost a couple friends that way...clearly they weren't good friends anyways if they don't stick around through hallucination texting. I at least let them know I was hallucinating before I sent the most acidic texts of my life.

Probably one of my favorite Ambien stories, though, was one of the first ones. I was hallucinating that I was a pirate, so I of course updated my Facebook status from my phone to, "I am a swashbuckling pirate." I believe there was a bit more pirate jargon in there, though, but I don't remember what I said exactly. Then about an hour later I was a ninja, so I reupdated my Facebook status to, "I am a stealthy ninja waiting in the reeds, prepared." Funny that I was a both a pirate and a ninja in the same night. Let's just say that I won't be taking any illegal drugs or alcohol any time soon from what me and Ambien had together.

But what I was taking wasn't really supposed to be taken long term. So I stopped taking it and it turns out that I don't sleep unless the sun is up. Cool, huh? I'd lie in bed for about 20 minutes at a time pretending to sleep then roll over and look at the clock which was still somewhere in the 4 AM hour. That would happen all night until about 6 or 7 when I would finally fall asleep until 10 when I had to wake up and go to choir. It was a grand old time. So I started taking melatonin which is supposed to just make your body work the way it's supposed to and not make you loopy. Well, still having a bit of trouble with the whole idea of sleep. But sleep is over rated anyways, right?

on: Cleaning.

Now, I don't have OCD, but I am a little bit weird about cleaning and being organized. I go through these phases, you see, where I keep everything organized, then I let things get unorganized slowly because I grow busier and what will a couple sweaters on the floor of my closet yet to be hung hurt? But when I clean, I clean. And sometimes I do get a little obsessive about it.

Recently I went a little nuts and took everything off of all of my walls, got a bunch of grocery bags and started attacking my room. And I'm still not quite done, but for the most part the bulk of it is done. I went through every single one of my belongings going by area of my room or piece of furniture that they are in and either kept, threw out, donated, or put it in a box for my closet. I also reorganized a lot of it.

I still have some bags I need to take out, and things I would like to throw out, but need to replace first, but pretty much I exorcised my room. And I was a little brutal. It's actually kind of bugging me that it's almost done, but not. Maybe I'll work on that some more tomorrow.

Here's the thing, when I feel stressed, or overwhelmed, or anxious I clean. It gives me a sense of control that I need when I feel like I'm losing it all. Sometimes it gets really bad where I can't sleep and have to get up out of bed and clean into the wee hours of the morning. I just get so anxious and looking at a mess while anxious does not help all that much. And cleaning it is distracting. And afterward I usually feel somewhat more grounded.

So, a couple weeks ago I broke. Hence the room renovations. I fear the day when there is nothing left to clean or organize.

Where the heart is.

I spend a lot of time at home. It kind of makes me feel like I've already graduated or dropped out and just have nothing to do all day but live. Which probably contributes to why I am so far behind in school right now. I end up sleeping a lot, or reading, or painting, or doing other pointless things when I should be doing school. I actually like to clean my room and organize it, too. But that's more of a control thing. I still enjoy it nonetheless.

Spending so much time at home or in my room has made me more open to adventures, I think. Because I'd do anything with anyone if they invited me just to get out of the house. Even if I don't particularly like whoever invited me. But that doesn't happen very often, anyways, being invited to things. So sometimes I go on adventures on my own. But that usually just makes me feel even more lonely and wish that I had someone who would call me spur of the moment with a great adventure in mind and off we'd go set to such a perfect playlist we might as well be starring in our own indie movie.

I have all sorts of great adventures that I would love to embark on, but no one to embark with. Really I've just been waiting for the right best friend for a long time for this sort of thing. I'm pretty sure I won't ever find them. At least find them here. Because I have some very grand friends, but none of which live even remotely close. Maybe someday I'll resort to just doing all the adventures on my list by myself.

So I guess for now I'll just sit in my very clean room and blog, or sketch, or read.

Those people.

I don't really know about this. I felt like I wanted a blog that was focused on writing. But I don't really know how I'm going to like what I pretty much see as an internet diary. Because I like to keep things simplified because I get overwhelmed and scattered feeling pretty easily, so having an internet diary as well as a real life journal could make things complicated. I'm going to go for it, though.

Well. Let's start out like this. I'm one of those people who has always been there in your life. You've known them since elementary school. You haven't ever really known them, though. Then one day you're looking back at your life and realize that one day they just weren't there. And you never know what happened to them, and you were never close enough to investigate into it. They just slipped away, but your life goes on. You have the same friends, do the same things, and just keep on going. And you wonder for a little bit how things may have been different. But then you forget that you ever realized this person was gone or all of the aloof mysteries surrounding them. And your happy life goes on. I'm one of those people.