Last night I fell asleep on the couch at the house that Sarah was housesitting at around midnight.  Three hours later I woke up and helped Sarah clean and finish packing.  Around four I sat down and watched "While You Were Sleeping" on their tv while Sarah got ready for her day.  At 5:45 we left for the train station, and after almost hitting a guy on a bike with my car (he was very angry, and I was very sorry) I dropped Sarah off at the station (she's going to MD for vacation) and returned back to my apartment for sleep.  An hour later, I'm up again and going to work.
Today my task was to convert video files to start editing aerial video footage for Gordon's website.  However I had to convert each individual file separately and each file was taking about 8-15 minutes to convert.  So I watched a lot of arrested development.
I finished converting all of the files around 4:15pm.
I try to upload said files into Final Cut Pro.
Surprise!
They're all 'corrupted'.
None of them worked.
Twas a tiring and fruitless day.
However my bosses/coworkers were very sympathetic and are working to figure out why all of a sudden Final Cut hates me so that we can re-try for next week.
I'm exhausted.
After work I walked out with a guy I work with and we were talking about thunderstorms or something (I barely heard what he was saying, I was so out of it) and I'm like okay have a good weekend and I walk over to my car and jam my key into the lock.
Except oh wait, it's not my car.
And my key doesn't fit.
And I try again.
Still not my car.
And then I realized that since it was not my car, I should move on to find the car that belongs to me.
And I'm wondering how many people saw me try to violently shove my key into some random car and then walk away and get into the proper one...
This has been a crazy day.
And it's not over.
I'm babysitting tonight and then at THREE AM I'm taking my roommate to the airport as she is departing for London for vacation.
LONDON.
Ugh.
Anywho, I should get myself together before I go care for the children.
I'm going to end up sleeping till three in the afternoon tomorrow.
Happy weekend, friends.

A Constant Reminder Of Where I Can Find Her, A Light That Might Give Up The Way.

I'm having a moment.

Or rather, an hour.

Or perhaps a day.

I'm having a day.

An awful day that was full of good and mediocre things.

Good things happened today.

My work day went really quickly and was pretty fun, I had lunch with a co-worker that I enjoy, I'm having an okay hair day, and I'm going on a date later with a nice guy.

But all day I've been holding Monica inside me, trying not to let anyone see what was happening.

In Northern Ireland a little boy was awarded an award in honor of Monica's memory.

And even as I write this, I can't breathe.

I choke and shake and I hate every second of this.  Every minute that I know that her body is in the ground...

Unreal.  Unjust.  Wrong.

Most of the time, pretty much all of the time lately I don't think of her as anything other than a memory, some kind of thing or entity that I once had.

I don't think of her as a person or as a friend that I lost.

Lost.

I can't believe we lost her.

And there are times when I can't pretend that she was just a memory and that her death wasn't real.

And it kills me.

And I miss her and it doesn't get easier and I'm so...

I don't even know what I am.

I feel like a shell when I think of her.  Nothing can fill me up because she's gone and I can just pretend she's not real.

And I hate that.  I hate that I do that.  I know this sounds awful and I know she deserves to be remembered for the full life she had and the incredible, whole person that she was.

But when I think about the airport or her souvenirs or the couch we shared every afternoon while we did devos...

I can't go to work or talk to people or get dressed when Monica's death is real.

I have to put her away to survive.

And all the while I'm freaking out because I know that I'm losing her this way.

I'm not remembering her as she was because I'm making her into a symbol of sadness, but I physically cannot stand to think of her and remember her as my friend.

I can't believe we lost her.

Where is the solution in this?  Where is the peace?

You know what's weird?

Boys never say goodnight.

Not first, anyways.

Whenever I'm talking to someone of the male species and they go to bed or something they just don't answer back.  Or they'll be like going to bed and that's it.

In any relationship - I mean with close guy friends, male acquaintances, boyfriend - all of 'em.  At the end of a conversation they're never like okay I'm gonna go, goodnight!

Which is what I say at the end of pretty much every evening conversation.

Because I'm a girl?  

No, I think it's just me.

When I was younger (and maybe still sometimes now...) before I would go to bed I would get SO upset if my mom didn't say goodnight back to me.  I still get kind of annoyed when people don't say it back.

I need that confirmation...that the other person is recognizing that I am leaving and is affirming it by sending me off with a goodnight.

That's weird.

That also might be a little bit...what's the word...self absorbed?

Whatever.

I realize the world doesn't revolve around me...

But you should still say goodnight.

I really really like going to church.
It's like going to the spa for my insides.  That sounds weird.  But it's the least mushy way I could think of to say that it makes me feel 'restored'.  I'm not a fan of cheesy jargon, but it seems to be the only fitting word.
And for church, sunshine, and the blessings that have been today and this week, I am thankful.
Also.
It's 9:06pm and where am I?
In my bed.  Looking for a bedtime movie.  About to turn off the light.
And I am thrilled that this is the case.
I have been looking forward to sleeping allllll day!
I love bedtime.
I'm still not capable of sleeping without a movie, but hey, why does that have to be a bad thing?
And with that, I shall depart into dreamland.
Goodnight, dear friends.

I hope I leave something behind
An open door, a broken light
Cause all I've seen is sacrifice
A sun-burnt fear through open eyes

You're gonna leave all of this behind
Into the deep with a fist of light
You're gonna be all right

I hope I leave something behind
An open door, a broken light

You're gonna leave all of this behind
Into the deep with a fist of light
You're gonna be all right


I see Monica everywhere.  On the subway, in the grocery store, in a passing car.  Most days now I don't feel so awful when that happens.  It makes me sad, but then I continue with what I'm doing.  Most days now I don't spend a lot of time thinking about her.
But it's only been two months.
She was here, perfectly fine, two months ago.  Two months of grieving for nearly nineteen years of life.  It feels so wrong.
I still think about her all of the time, but I rarely feel the loss.  I don't know if that makes sense.  I don't think about what it felt like when I found out she was dead, a moment that I will never forget.  I don't think about that week of memorial services, not sleeping, her wake, my Ireland team...
I don't think about that.  Not really.  Not what I felt.  Because it's debilitating, and I don't have enough energy to go through that again.
And because of this, I sometimes feel like I'm losing her.
Like the memory of the last time I saw her is getting fuzzier.
Was her hair up or down?  Was she wearing her lane hat or carrying it?  Did she tell me she loved me or was that the time before?
So sometimes, on nights like this when I can't sleep, I think about the night I found out.  I think about Easter and about coming back and not going to classes and the nightmares and all of the horrible things that represented the horrible thing that her death was.  And I remember that she was real.
I still can't think about Ireland without feeling sick though.
As much as I want to go back, I don't think that I ever could.

I start my new job tomorrow.  Round two of the new jobs.  This one is on campus, working with Neal, who was our faculty advisor on the N. Ireland trip.  I think that's where this all started.  I can't look at him without feeling heavy and remembering things.

Her bracelets were stolen.  When we were robbed in Northern Ireland, her bracelets that she had worn almost every day were stolen and I think her ipod was too, but I don't remember.  I remember her iPhone was still there and we were wondering why.  I remember her being sad for about a minute and a half because her bracelets were a gift and they meant a lot to her, and then she just perked up again like she always did and said that it was just stuff, and she didn't need it.  Can't take it with you, she'd say.
On the first day that we went into the city to shop, before anyone had gotten really close, Monica asked if I'd come with her to get coffee before shopping.  I didn't really want to break off from the group because I wanted to get to know everyone, but I agreed.  So we went, and we spent the whole day together, and twas then that we bonded.

I'm so so glad that she lived.

I'm obsessed with yogurt-covered raisins.  Obsessed.
They're delicious.
Also I'm going to become obsessed with Wednesday nights.
I CAN SLEEP IN UNTIL EIGHT THIRTY TOMORROW!!!!
I usually wake up at six, although I need to start waking up earlier because I'm barely making my train as it is.
The routine seems to be get ready, make lunch, take the train to work, work, come back, make dinner, watch a movie or go to the gym, then go to bed.  No time for anything in between.
But on Wednesday nights, I can sleep in.  I can watch a movie and then do nothing.  I might walk to the beach.  Except it's freezing so I won't.
I'm most likely going to do nothing.
Also this company that I work for is so legit.  It's clients and the work it does...it's impressive.
I think that I'm probably not supposed to talk about any of it.
Just know that it's cool.
Enjoy your Wednesday night, friends, I know I will :)

Today I ended what was a very long and stressful day with a really good workout at the gym and an impromptu swim in a pond with some friends.

These are the best days.

I am terrified.  My first day as an intern at a professional PR firm is tomorrow morning.
Terrified.
I'm reading Disney quotes to make myself feel better.
It's working.
Pray for me!