I'm a little late, considering it's the beginning of June, but that's okay. I haven't posted on this blog in over a year, and the reason for that is I've been busy procrastinating in every aspect of my entire life (besides gaining weight. That has been happening at a steady pace. Congratulations, me).
Since I've been gone, there have been many changes in my life:
- I've moved to a house.
- I've changed my hair color at least a dozen times.
- I've stopped being angsty about my romantic situation (See: "Happy LOL You're Alone Day"). Mostly because I don't have a reason to be. I hope.
- I've started exercising. This is significant because I no longer become winded when climbing the four flights of stairs to get to my job.
-Oh, right, and I have a job. One of the many things that I complained about last year was that I didn't have a job. Now I do. Goodbye, moneyless Haley. Hello, Haley Who Can Afford McDonald's.
- I don't play the Sims 3 anymore because my laptop doesn't allow it. What's ironic is that my laptop can't run the Sims 3 because it has too many Sims 3 expansions on it.
- I've fallen in love with "Game of Thrones" (The show, not the books. Those require a certain kind of patience that I do not possess).
- I've acquired two cats, four fish, and one water frog.
- I bought a blender and now I make smoothies, sometimes.
Since I've been gone, there are many things in my life that have not changed:
- I haven't stopped singing Kelly Clarkson's "Since You've Been Gone" in my head every time I say the words "Since I've been gone."
- I'm still working toward earning the probably, most likely useless degree in English with a focus on Creative Writing.
- I still don't read as much as an English major probably should.
- I still don't like papayas.
- I still sleep lying down.
- I still have more piercings than my mother approves of.
- I still make a lot of lists.
- I still have difficulty writing blog entries, even when they're as simple and insignificant as this one.
- I still get winded when climbing five flights of stairs.
- My face. I've still got one. (I hesitated writing that because I don't want to jinx it. See: Any bad joke on the internet about the new drug "bath salts."*)
- I still really, really love French fries.
Now that that's out of the way, let's get to the important stuff.
I turn twenty-one in sixteen days. In sixteen days I will be able to legally drink all the alcohol my body can tolerate (which is very little, so I'll never have to worry about going over the legal limit. Thanks, acid reflux!). To quote a very wise Jason Delarosa, in sixteen days "No one can tell me 'no.'" In sixteen days, I'll be able to take advantage of free entry into all the clubs that I have very little interest in entering. In sixteen days, I can purchase all the cheap, bitter, vomit-inducing wine I want because I can.
But then what? What happens in seventeen days, when the novelty has worn off and I'm pretty much over being twenty-one because that means I'll be expected to chip in for the alcohol at parties because I might not have cash, but I can always use my card to buy stuff since I can. What happens in seventeen days when I have no more milestones, age-wise, to look forward to until I'm fifty and I get my AARP card in the mail? What happens in seventeen days when I realize I've done almost nothing with my twenty-one years of life and I crawl, hungover, to my bathroom to puke in the toilet, make a huge effort to stand up, reluctantly peer at myself in the mirror and think "Look at you. You're pathetic. You should be studying or writing or applying to internships. Now brush your teeth for the eighth time today, you monster," then I dramatically collapse onto the cold tile and cry because my stomach hurts, but the Pepto Bismol is all the way in the medicine cabinet.
What happens then?
Anyways, happy hurricane season, ya'll!
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*Edit: That drug isn't new anymore. I have no sense of time.
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