A scale is a scale is a scale is a scale

This whole ballooning weight thing just is not cutting it for me. I know it's mostly my fault for being lazy with the eating habits of a fattie, but I rarely get the opportunity to do anything about it. It's cold all the time in Boone, so I don't want to take my fat ass anywhere to do anything. I don't have the time to lead a healthy life style, because the one that can kill you is the easiest to accomplish. I am, however, working to actively change my slovenly ways. I need to cut sweets out completely, because that's what gets me. That and the fact that I'll do just about anything to avoid exercise.

This whole new, I need to work on myself thing has nothing to do with image. I honestly could not give a damn how big I got if it didn't affect the quality of my life, but alas it does. I know when I graduate I'll have the time and resources to actually be able to be a healthy person, but the college life just isn't conducive environment for breeding anything other than regret. So, here it goes. I'm going to do my best, and I'll let you know how it all works out.

My ink and me

When you put something on your body forever, a lot of thought and commitment come into play. I have two tattoos that represent me almost completely. I have an ivy peace sign on my ankle that reminds me that I'm a natural hippie at heart and nothing will ever really change that. I also have a shooting star on my back  because as corny as it may sound the sky is the limit. Now it is time for my friends and family. I'm going to have a lot of ink, but hey I want to be able to carry around a piece of them no matter where I go.

We have yet another snow day here in Boone, and I don't know about anyone else, but I'd rather be in class. That's a sad statement. I'm starting to worry about not receiving any credits for this semester since I haven't really learned anything. My apartment is closing in on me, and everything in every direction is white. We've accumulated more snow this year than any other in recorded history. Facebook groups have been made to complain about it. It's not a good day to be a Mountaineer.

This just in...

It's genetic. 

I used to hate materialism.

When I was a young cynic (like the rest of American youth), I hated all things materialistic. I thought capitalism was fascism and vice versa, but now I might as well be Madonna.  I love getting presents and giving them, although I like giving more because it's like a puzzle/game to me. I mention this, because today is the pinnacle of materialism. An entire day based on buying your sweetheart something pretty. I partly hated today before because I was alone and bitter, so I half-truth invented my hatred of materialism.

Now, I love Valentine's day. I don't know who St. Valentine is, as a history person you think I would lap that up, but I'm not Catholic and I have no desire to familiarize myself with Saints (New Orleans excluded).

I'm in love, because I have a pretty fantastic boyfriend, and my life is all fluffy clouds, rainbows, butterflies, and puppies. I didn't get to actually spend the day with him, because I had to drive back to school which is an hour and a half away from my home town. We're in a long-distance-ish relationship that aspect is the bulk of our issues. We had a date night like thing last night, which included eating and watching a movie with our best friends.

Friday night it began to snow in Gastonia, and I have to admit I played more in the snow there than I ever do in Boone, despite there being a whole lot more of it here. My best friend and I had a snowball fight with my brother and his best friend, and then the four of us went sledding. We won the snowball fight by the way. It might be impressive if you knew my brother and his friend are a couple years older than we are, and we still managed to peg them in the face more (which is always the measure of victory).

Now, look at how adorable me and whatshisface are:

I'm still as insecure as the teenager I was.

We talked about self-esteem today in my Social Psychology class. we took an inventory of whether or not we had high/low self-esteem. Now, I know I have low self-esteem, but it's kind of weird when you know you have low self-esteem. It's not even on the moderate line or close, which I thought it would be at least close.

Of course high and low self-esteem both have their ups and downs. For instance, people with lower self-esteem have more accurate self appraisal, and are less likely than those with higher self-esteem to overestimate their abilities. So, I guess I'm less likely to make a jackass out of myself, which can be put in the win column.

Apparently, I'm also less likely to let things go. And I don't let things go. Bad things stick with me a whole lot more than the good, but I think of it as being prepared for all scenarios.

At least I'm ready for my life to fall to shambles.

I'm a psychology minor, and I took most of my classes for said minor a couple years ago. Now, that I have a psychology class again that is not about teaching children, I'm starting to self-diagnose again. I'm almost positive that both my mother and I are bi-polar.

The snow is getting to me.

I've spent my week acting ten different kinds of crazy. I really need to go home. I've almost run out of clean clothes, and I'm sincerely homesick. The snow is getting to me. I know I picked a school nestled in the mountains, and how could I expect anything less than snow up to my knees? It reflects light and blinds me every time I dare look out the window. I'm just over this whole winter nonsense. Actually, I'm pretty much sick of school itself. I'm even graduating a semester early and it's not soon enough.

I don't do well in the cold. That's why I'm thinking Florida for grad school. Heck yeah.