K.T. Rants

I admit, I haven’t got much in the way of a subject tonight. I’m watching TV with my dad so I’m not putting a particularly large amount of concentration into it, either. Yesterday I WAS going to write about taking my grandpa to the beach, but I realized that it really was a pretty boring subject, so I erased it all and gave it up for the day. Today I think I’m just going to jabber. Perhaps I was just trying too hard to stick to one subject yesterday, or I was thinking too much.

Anyway, I’ve noticed that I’ve started looking forward to the weekdays more than the weekends. I mean, who does that? Seriously? Most of the classes I’m taking this semester are pretty cool, and I work the weekends, but I still don’t feel like that’s an excuse to betray the traditional T.G.I.F. mentality that everyone else seems to have.

I remember when I used to really like my job. And it’s not bad at all, really - I admit it, I’m spoiled. I’m payed well, there’s nice people, my supervisor’s really cool and she works around my school schedule, so I have no excuse for being as sick of it as I am. I’ve been there three years now, almost four, and I dunno, I guess I’m starting to think I’d like to try something new.

But the fact is, while I’m in school the job security and great pay is kind of required. So I don’t feel like I can risk trying something else, and I’ll admit that irks. I’m studying to be a nurse, and sometimes I really don’t want to. I kind of got sucked into it, really. See, in high school they had a health program that was going to be closed if they didn’t get more kids joining in, and I liked the teacher that taught it, so I joined pretty much out of pity for her. I liked the program all right, and they had an opportunity to get my Certified Nurses’ Assistant certificate while I was still in high school, so I said, ‘Why not?’

Then, when I’d finished THAT they said I could do the prerequisites and then get straight into the nursing program at the city college I’m currently attending, and everyone was really proud of me and told me how excellent this opportunity is (and it IS an amazing opportunity), and I just kind of went with it. But I was never sure I really wanted to be a nurse. I’m STILL not sure. I know it pays well, and I like helping people, but I’m starting to think it might not be my thing. I made the mistake of mentioning that to my parents about six months ago, and I STILL haven’t heard the end of it. So, I suppose, whether I like it or not I’m going to be a nurse. There are worse fates, I know. Perhaps I’m just a spoiled brat - no - I’m DEFINETLY a spoiled brat. But at least I can whine about it here.

My hormones and I are currently not in a speaking relationship. Yes, you read correctly. I am pissed off at my hormones. What makes them think they can control me and my behavior? Just because they DO on a regular basis doesn’t mean they should make a habit of it.

Case in point: This really good-looking Swedish guy I know. The minute I looked at him on the first day of acting class - BAM! My eyes dilate, my cheeks blush, the whole deal. I didn’t even freaking know the guy! But did my hormones care? Nooooo. So began a crush that has lasted over a month. The chase was on, without my hormones even letting my brain give some input.

Now, I’m not saying this guy isn’t nice. He’s actually really charming - and did I mention gorgeous? But it’s taken me all this time to finally break through the hormonal fog and make myself admit he’s not really the guy for me. I sincerely doubt he’s into me, first and most importantly, and he drinks and parties a lot, and while I have absolutely nothing against that, I’d end up getting left out a lot because I can’t drink - I’m on seizure medication. Plus he’s into hip-hop and stuff, which, unfortunately I’m really much too white to enjoy - the first time we hung out we went to ‘Step It Up 2′, a movie I had only looked upon with complete disdain previous to meeting him. I was pleasantly surprised to find that it wasn’t bad - but that’s not the point! And he has a LOT of girl friends he’s always around, and while I truly honestly TRY not to be the jealous type, I just know that if we did start dating I’d always be wondering.

So, I’ve wasted a month’s obsessing over a guy who in the end didn’t really cut it (and I, to be fair, interest him even less, I’m sure), and all because of my stupid hormones. Oh well, I can still appreciate him for his good looks, anyway - my hormones and I are working on a reconciliation. If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em!

So my friend ‘Meg’ showed me her blog today (megspeak.blog.com) and I thought, ‘What a fantastic idea! I should write a blog.’ Then the downer bitch who lives in my head said, ‘No, then you’d be a lame-ass copy-cat.’ But you know what, bitch? This is a free country, and I’ll damn well write a blog if I please! It won’t be as good as Meg’s, for she is highly interesting and always witty, but at the very least I can use this as a form of stress release.

The fact that this is my first blog makes me feel like I’m obligated to write something highly interesting and pithy to capture the reader’s attention! Yeah, no pressure. But really, who’s going to read this but some random, incredibly bored person sitting at their computer at 2 a.m. with a bag of potato chips and a blank look on their face (a.k.a. my long-lost twin)? Or, I guess, friends who feel sorry for me might read this. So I suppose I don’t have to worry about disappointing an audience or anything. With this in mind, I plan on treating this blog kind of like a diary, or perhaps a suppository for all the pointless stories I carry around in my head and am constantly spurting out at whomever will listen.

Now, for future notice, so no one can say I didn’t warn them, I WILL NOT be giving my real location or my full name to ANYONE no matter how normal they seem or how much they beg. Yes I know I’m being paranoid, but I’ve heard too many horror stories. Other than that and perhaps changing a few names here and there I plan on spouting out whatever comes to mind, completely - and I’m sure embarrassingly - honest. Hopefully it turns out to have at least a slight modicum of entertainment for SOMEONE out there. So, until I’m in the right frame of mind to start airing the random mess that is my psyche, I will bid you adieu.