One never really realizes how soothingly quiet their hometown is until they get back to their school-city, open the window and realize that they can't hear the snow falling anymore. Instead, it's just constant cars whooshing by, the occasional bus squealing to a stop and the almost too-frequent sirens of ambulances and firetrucks.

I could hear the snow falling.
And here? It was blizzarding out and all I heard was traffic. At 10pm.

I am immensely homesick.
No matter how much I complained about home, it was still just that: home.

It didn't help when dad phoned home and passed me the phone to talk to my mom.
It didn't help when she told me that she got home and "looked around for you and then remembered you weren't here. I miss you."
It didn't help that my little sister's status on Facebook is "very upset because she came home to find [me] not there :(. "
It didn't help.

After 3 years, you'd think I'd be stronger and less a wimp after 3 years, but it seems to only be getting worse.
I played 2 straight hours of Age of Empires III. It didn't help.
I ate a slew of granola bars. No help.
I contemplated buying massive amounts of unneeded makeup sometime tomorrow, because I haven't done that since last year. Didn't help.

It's too noisy here.
I can't hear the snow.

Reading Week

Home.
I'm home for reading weak.
First day back was shitty. I woke up and was told to go make/print off resumes to take to a job fair.
Welcome home.
Then my little sister goes off with her jerk-friends that make her feel like shit but whom she still hangs out with.
The parents and I go out for supper and first I get an iced tea (instead of the coke I asked for) and a completely different salad and sandwich which I don't complain about, because I just don't complain in public.
Then dad plays the "Oh yaaa?!" game and tries to prove that he knows more about the Serbia/Kosovo situation than me. Claiming Serbians are stupid because they're protesting the separation as I try to remind him that, like many of my profs say for different issues, you can't assume an entire people or group is "stupid" or any less intelligent than you, because that's just what they know, it's who they are, and just because that isn't you doesn't make them any less intelligent.
But, see, I'm wrong.
So, unimpressed food-wise.
I go home, all ready to slaughter some civilizations on Age of Empires III, only to discover that I left the game at my grandmothers house.
I have no essays due when I get back (for a while at least) and no major assignments to do, so I had my entire week planned out: playing Age of Empires III until the cows come home. Can't do that now.
And then I put way too much sugar in my tea. And I hate when I do that.
So my little sister had promised me that, since she and her jerk-friends were going to the movie in the small-"city" 45 minutes away nice and early (around 500pm), that she'd be home nice and early and we could watch Girl Interrupted. I had a sinking suspicion that she wouldn't be home, and I was so bored and cold and annoyed that I went to bed at 8:30pm. Turns out her jerk-friends decided on the way to pick up my sister that they weren't going to go to the movie but would, instead, go to the local teams' hokey game. Which meant my sis didn't get home until 11:45, but I was asleep and long gone by then.
I haven't seen my little sister since Christmas, and I was hoping to spend some quality time with her. Now she's off to school every day this week, and I'm left to wish I had my game.

Things have been piling an piling and piling up for the past...um, 5 weeks. Now every tiny little thing gets on my nerves and ARG! It's annoying!

So now I'm bored bored bored and cold cold cold and I usually like the cold, but for some reason I can't seem to warm up here.
Bullocks.
And my dad's being a grade A douche. So that helps. He was nice to me when we were driving from London to here, but then on the drive to go out to eat, he turned 180degrees and has been nothing but rude and douche-baggy to me. Fucking brilliant.
I was going to take the bus this (Sunday) morning, back to London, since I have absolutely nothing to do here. Buuut I was clearly too lazy to do it.
So now, more boredom.
Cheers.

News about migrains! :D

So, news!

I have finally and concretely discovered what causes my daily tension migraines!!!
Alas, there is no cure.
Three hints: it’s old, wrinkly, and has a queer obsession with onions.

Any guesses…

Three more seconds…

…

…

…

THAT’S RIGHT! My grandmother!
Don’t believe me?! HERE’S PROOF!

This morning, despite having an essay due, I was in a pretty damn good mood.

I almost did the splits while walking to the bus stop because of the ice, but I actually laughed it off. LAUGHED IT OFF, even though I usually would have been embarrassed beyond belief and would have grumbled and been angry for the rest of the day. I was happy.

I get to class, and Doctor Reynard was unbelievably hilarious! Talking about how alchemists helped aid I the advancement of science because they found out when chemicals didn’t go well together when their houses of faces blew up. Stuff like that. Hilarious.

So I hand in my essay, walk with my friend to the midway point where she heads off to the library and I start the trek up the hill to my school. I had bought the newest Coheed and Cambria cd this past weekend (late, I know) so I was all singing along (in my head) to the music and sliding on ice through the parking lot and being awesome. ‘Cause that’s what I do on my Monday, Tuesday and Thursday hikes up the hill: be awesome.
So I sat in front of my classroom for the hour and a half before class started. I did some work for tomorrow, then chatted with my friend Steph, then Raeanne showed up and I chatted with her. Then class began, and it was two presentations which were “not testable”, so we didn’t have to take notes.
So I sat there and enjoyed myself.
After class, I walked down the hill, head bopping to the music, caught the bus and walked the block-ish from the bus stop to the house.
All fine and dandy.
I walk in the door, and she starts harassing me to “drink your milk” (soy milk), to “just drink it” even though I wasn’t thirsty at all. So I head to the washroom as she calls after me to eat something because “if you don’t eat, you don’t learn” etc.
In the washroom.
Look out window.
See two pairs of pants on the back porch railings.
Look closer and realize that I haven’t worn either of them in a week.
Nay, one of them I haven’t worn since before Christmas.
I leave the washroom and tell her the above. She then says she was just “airing” them out. I go and snatch them, now covered in snow and frozen stiff.
She’s standing just inside the door, and as soon as I close the door she start yelling about “why you just throw things on the ground?!” so I yell back “because I’ve been writing 5000 word essays and don’t have time to pick stuff up right now”.

Every and all of my pants are on rotation. Well, other than the ones I hadn’t worn since Christmas, they’re my “fancy presentation” pants, the ones I wear only for presentations. So, naturally, with my stress level a 17 on a scale of 1 to 10, my room is a disaster. Clothes and books are piled up EVERYWHERE.
So I start going up stairs and yell back down “you’re not supposed to go up here anyways, GOD!”
She’s done a number on this room, let me tell you. The piles of clothes are gone. Great, right? Not really, because they’re not in the drawers, nor in the closet, so that means she’s washed them. Even if they had only been worn once, or not at all, she doesn’t care. If it’s folded on the bed, she’ll take it and deem it laundry because she’s fucking crazy.
And I think of the wasted water. And the fact that she hand-scrubs the underarms to DEATH so now 90% of my black shirts are un-wearable in public because, really, who wants a black shirt with white armpits? And they are white. Same with my used-to-be-favorite purple, long-sleeved shirt. White. And then she’ll lecture me on not putting my clothes in my laundry basket, and how she had to walk up and down the stairs and the basement steps and how she “didn’t know what was wash and what was what”, even though she really DIDN’T have to do all that shit.

And now I have a migraine. My head is pounding in that same spot as always: the left temple. Making my eye water and hurt to close, blink, move.
I have shit due/to do for tomorrow. I can’t do it if her harassment gives me these migraines, daily.
Like I said, no cure.

But next year? Oh, next year I’ll live in the hospice across town, but I’m not living here again. I can’t take the daily migraines. I seriously think they’re making me go a little loopy.
No doubt about it.
I’m not the same “Kristen” I used to be. I’ve changed, for the worse.
Daily migraines can do that to a person, I suppose.

My 16th Century source is pretty much illegible...

How the hell am I supposed to read, and therefore ananlyze this? Impossible I say. Go me for choosing this source. *mooooooan*

The time and age I live in...

Go Kosovo!

Valentine's Day

Have a gloomy S.A.D.
;D

I'm running out of string...

Seriously.

He sounds like he could be my soul mate.
No drinking.
No smoking.
No drugs.
He doesn't have to drink to have a good time.
He's quiet, unless he's around people he knows, then he's "fun and crazy."

Really.
Perfect.

But...see. I'm fat. And unintelligent/boring. Really, seriously, I'd be wasting his time.

I find this highly amusing:

PS. Have you figured it out yet? That I, just recently, discovered that I can embed video? Tee hee!