Just Call Me Lazarus...

It's been nearly a year since my last post. And A LOT has happened since.

I've decided to resurrect this little diddy of a blog because I'm sure I'm going to need it. Plus, I've missed blogging and I think I have a clear idea of where I want this thing to go.

I'm graduating from Howard University next Saturday (hopefully, but we'll get to that later) and I am excited and terrified. I'm gonna take a year off before heading to grad school and I've decided to chronicle the journey through my year off here. I'm sure it'll be difficult, fun, challenging, and new. I'm looking forward to it.

For the first 8 weeks though, I may still be in school.

Today, at 5:21 I received a call from my academic advisor, who told me that I'm missing one of the necessary classes that I need to graduate. I lost my breath. Tears welled in my eyes as I stood in a crowded metro station. I didn't know what to do. Howard is notorious for dropping an H-bomb on your dreams in the 11th hour, but it wasn't supposed to happen to me. I had always had pleasant experiences with the administration, any issues I had were easily taken care of... I wanted to die.

I struggled to keep from bawling as I walked home.. I wanted to run, I just needed to get to my house so the tears could come. I was coming undone.

When I made it in the house, I made a mad dash to my room and searched for the scheme that showed me all of the classes that I had completed... One was missing. My advisor asked if I had taken any humanities classes that might transfer... I couldn't remember. Then, later, it hit me. I HAD taken an art class in High school at the local community college! I just needed my transcripts. Simple! Just a phone call away!

An hour and a half worth of hold time later, I am still without any info. I'm going to try again tomorrow, after I see my advisor in the morning. Wish me luck. My life is hanging in the balance.

My boyfriend asked me why graduating on time was so important, not in a malicious way, he was trying to calm me out of the hysteria I was in. I explained that my grandparents were coming... both sides. My mom's side all the way from St. Lucia. This is all they have ever wanted for me. They pledged to eat bread and water if they had to in order to get me through school. My uncle Robbie wanted it for me. And if for nobody other than me, I do it for him. My family is so proud. I want them to see me walk across the stage. This has to happen.

I'm going to make it happen.

I just had a thought...

I'm pretty sure my best friend, Valerie, hates me.

Well maybe not hates me HOLY FUCK OPRAH LOOKS SO GOOD WITH HER HAIR LIKE THAT!!


I'm sorry. That happens sometimes.


but any way, Valerie has to think I'm a pain in the ass. I mean I move all the way across the country and I call her so I can cry like a blubbering idiot and I know that's gotta be annoying especially when there are so many other fun and awesome things one could be doing and the only reason she keeps me in her life is because she's concerned that I'm a suicide risk and she just doesn't want that blood on her hands.

Speaking of blood, did you know that horseshoe crabs have blue blood? It's because the elemental component of their hemoglobin in copper, not iron like ours.

Star Jones looks like a walrus.


I'm so sorry for this. Please return to your lives as they were, as I'm sure this doesn't even make sense anymore.


I <3 valerie. and oprah. and mexican food. fuck. there I go again.

I need a red bull.

Peeing in a cup takes more skill than one would think...

I went to the gynecologist today. It was actually mildly entertaining (which should indicate how mind numbingly bored I am) and I had a good time.

My nurse practitioner was named Joni, and she was awesome. she literally yelled "NO GLOVE, NO LOVE" at me with a huge smile on her face while we were talking about safe sex practices. It was great.

I also had to pee in a cup which is easy for normal people but I'm not normal so it ended being an ordeal. QUITE the ordeal. and then I couldn't find the nurse who told me to bring the pee to her so I'm standing in the middle of the office holding a cup of my own pee.

awkward. but whatever.

then I got poked and prodded and Joni and I talked about my "boyfriend" and then I got blood drawn while sitting in a chair that looked like a torture device and the nurse laughed at me when I told her that even though I was totally serious.

My arm still hurts.

So let's hope for my "boyfriend's" sake that I don't get a phone call from Joni. Cause then he will die. She's gonna send me a card if everything's cool though. weee!