New Perspective

Hello, blog. 

Despite mono, I made it to college three days before class started. Turns out I'm too well to be a sick person. Still not fully recovered though, give me another couple of weeks. Maybe I'll start a fitness regime or some shit like that. Probably not.

This life is surreal. 

My camera broke. I'm not sure if I care too much. I understand that a picture says a thousand words, but in the meantime, here are some captions or whatever.

My family plus Trent unload boxes from the car to the cart to the dorm. Everything begins to look settled.

"Ami, Jake won't come out of the study lounge because he's too sad that you're leaving."

My family plus Trent and Tracie gather around the beach themed waterside restaurant table and enjoy fajitas. See also: the Last Supper.

My father's eyes well up and we embrace and time freezes as I realize, this is growing up.

Lights are bright and shit is trippy. But I'm with my girls, that's all that matters.

Running shorts + backpack + pedestrian = college.

It's always sunny in Philidelphia.

Best friends and their roomies and suities. Best Gyro Ever. $4.82 Enough said. 

Slushee run leads to Neda's apartment leads to kitty cat rescue mission leads back home. Sabeena sleeping leads to me in Trent's room, leads to me lulling him to sleep with my guitar, leads to finding something else to do. Leads to a random apartment with a kid I barely know, leads to good company, leads to 4am sleep-drunkenness. Impulsive and whimsical, how it ought to be.

Book fail, book success, salad with celery. Realize I've lost all sense of time. I need sleep.

Floor party in the lounge, guitar party number one.

Communications party. "Oh." Free pizza.

Asian food, of which I have none. 

The Tower is illuminated, hands are in the air with the band music. I'm a Longhorn.

Jammie Jam in laundry room. Me, Trace, our guitars, our voices, whoever else. Tuesday nights at 8. Made it a thing. 

The Diegos. Gotta love them europeans, amirite?

I couldn't think of a better way to do this. I need to start remembering when I have thoughts beyond mere observation of superficial analysis. 

But no need to ferment too much. I like this high.

Bis dann.

Ready for take-off?

No, I am not. 

This should be a blog about having cold feet, or being scared of the unknown and what's to come. About how I'm about to spread my wings and embark on the biggest journey of my life. About how for the first time in my life, I'm going to experience the world without a shock collar. About how I'm going to learn things about myself and how I'm completely scared of who I might turn out to be. 

In a parallel universe where I didn't contract mono, it probably would be. 

But it's not.

It's mono-world. In this world I find myself waking up at rude hours of the night, flipping furiously through the cable channels in search of something that doesn't cause tangible damage to my brain. I pop 3 800mg ibuprofen pills to keep my throat and head from stacking enormous quantities of pain on top of the fatigue that I'm inevitably experiencing. I scour the internet for advice, tips, any sort of information I can get on this horrible illness characterized by uncertainty and unpredictability. 

I sit while I am "lysol"ed, trying not to vocalize my borderline offense.

It's funny cause in the corner of this bedroom are all my belongings, strategically placed in crates and boxes, taunting me with the reminder that I'm supposed to be leaving in 3 days, moving in on my own, beginning the nesting process. 

Meeting with my counselor, figuring my schedule out.

But I haven't the energy. 

Even if I do physically heal, and this happens, I still feel drained of mental energy. So it's like some more watered down tired version of me is experiencing this move.

Not me. 

I'm interested to see how this all plays out.

Until then, CNBC marijuana documentaries.