Let the torment begin.

The worst 3 months of the year? January, February, March. After New Years is over, you get to endure 3 miserable months of frigid weather and little to look forward to. Sure, there's Valentines Day. But that's a very biased (and for many, brutal and unforgiving) holiday. Sure, there's St. Patrick's day too, but in college every day can seem like St. Patrick's day.

I can feel my winter rut coming on, and there's nothing I can do to stop it. Not only am I broke for having every single person in my family celebrate their birthday between the months of November and January, but the end of winter break has left me feeling unproductive. Since school is a 40 minute drive from my family's home, I am always the last one to leave at the end of breaks. I feel like I don't belong in this ghost town anymore. I feel like I'm in limbo.

That on top of the utter sex drought I am about to embark upon should be plenty to keep me good and ornery for weeks to come.

The only things that make me really feel better when I'm like this are shopping (regrettably I am an avid practitioner of retail-therapy, despite my general disdain for acting like a high-maintenance bitch), writing (hence the reason for the blog; I wouldn't do this if I was merely interested in being "discovered"), abusing my body (not in the self-mutilating sort of way, more like the alcohol-poisoning sort), and sleeping (best cure for anything). Between school and work, my life will be on a rotating cycle of the 4 activities i mentioned above, with an emphasis on the last three.

Why am I bitching into my black hole of a blog about this? Because I'm supposed to be staying on top of my shit. And I can't let the majority of people in my life know that I just want to hibernate until April. It's not that I don't have plenty of people to talk about this to, I just tend to bottle up my emotions when I can. I can't stand it when people wallow around in self-pity all the time and I refuse to become one of those people.

So that's my rant. I'm not sure if I was going somewhere with this or just needed to open up a vent in my emotional vault. I do feel better though, and I swear to myself that next post will be a complete 180 on the mood spectrum.

I wish we could talk in technicolor.

Those who danced were thought to be quite insane by those who could not hear the music.

Coming to an end...

Sadly, winter break is looking to be just about over. Time just seems to be flying by faster and faster with each passing year. Above is probably my favorite photo to come out of these past 4 weeks.

Don't tell me how to live my life!

Today, in a futile attempt to find her car keys, my mother found my rolling papers and spice jar of nugs in my purse. I keep my nugs in a spice jar because it cures the weed plus keeps the smell contained; however, a baggie would have probably been more stealth when my mom decided to rape and pilage the entire contents of my purse.
This, of course, started a seemingly never-ending, pointless argument consisting mainly of whether or not these sweet, stinky nugs were causing damage to my brain. To which of course we have both very strong opposing opinions on. I'm guessing you can figure out who stands for what.
I'm sorry, but last time I checked, I have an above average GPA. I have a job, and manage the majority of my finances. Not to mention my parents have made me wait to get my wisdom teeth removed FOUR fucking months after my dentist said I should have had them out. Which means I'm in pain. Alot of pain. And since weed tends to be the universal cure for all moderately painful ailments, I've been indulging more than I usually would.
I've ovbiously posted about this before, but why is it that parents are the first to point a finger at marijuana for all their children's problems? Did they forget their college years?
This frustrates me to pieces because this is one of the most horrible parent topics to argue. It always ends with both parties throwing their hands up in the air in exhaustion.
Can anyone let me know how they've broken through to their parents about letting them smoke?

Badass Biker Chick?

Summer is a long way away. But for some stupid reason, stores love to start selling skimpy summer clothes (excuse me, "resort wear") after the first of the year. So now I'm buying a ton of cute shit that I can't even wear for another four months. Bullshit, right? But I can't help myself!

Anyways, I've been seeing these H&M ads on the cta and billboards lately with this woman wearing these tight leather pants like these:

And despite how un-versatile the whole leather pants look is, I couldn't help but wonder how cute it would be if I bought the cheap-ass faux leather H&M pants and then made them into shorts. I could wear them with all kinds of tops and shoes and it would probably make my butt look nice too.

I'll keep you posted on how this endeavor is working out.

A question only a stoner would ask.

It seems like every year during the winter time, when I'm driving around sharing a joint or bowl between friends, I can't help but think about how beautiful all the trees look covered in snow. I'm really lucky to have my hometown in such a heavily wooded area (the word "forest" is even in the name), free from the development of subdivisions and strip malls.

But for some reason, I always start to wonder about what this place looked like before there were settlers, or even what it would look like today if people didn't exist. I know it had to be incredibly beautiful. When I take my dog to play in the snowy ravine by my house, I wonder what it would be like if it could have been 10 times bigger. Or 20 times. Or 30 times. This world must have been an amazing sight for its first settlers, and I see why Native Americans looked at the world as such a wonderful beautiful thing. It sort of makes you think about everything you have in your life that you consider to be "important".

They say Chicago was a giant wild onion field when the Illini first discovered it, hence the name. So tell me, am I the only one who thinks about this shit?