06.14.12 | 5:05am

*I suppose it’s time to start dumping a couple of my old posts from Tumblr onto here. Rereading some of them made me think exactly where my mind was at. Nevertheless, they made for some pretty interesting posts.*

I have this addiction to coffee.

But the thing is, I was so good at controlling my cravings, especially after Lent when I became so accustomed to not giving in to my urges. This summer, though, I relapsed. Maybe that’s just a little bit too dramatic… to say it like it’s some sort of illness. I mean, I know there are people out there who can’t survive starting their day without a cup of coffee, but my cravings usually happen around midnight. Although I tell myself to ignore it because I know I can’t afford staying up a few extra hours, I alway give in… easily. Starbucks. McDonalds. Burger King. Anywhere. Lattes. Frappes. Cappucino. Anything.

So here I am, laying in bed, and it’s 4:17 am. I have 10 pages to read before class tomorrow and yet, I’m pushing it off in order to type this pointless post about my addiction to coffee. I’m going to regret this in the morning. All it’s going to do is lead to a series of events that I’ll eventually regret simply because I asked Long to make me coffee at 1 am after our spur of the moment food run to HEB.

Anyway, the caffeine has long kicked in and I’m awake. For the past year, I had this problem of staying up until 5-6 am. I would survive off of 5 hours of sleep and I became used to it. Over the 3 weeks I spent at home, I fixed my vampire lifestyle… but that was short lived. I think it’s partially due to the coffee I’m consuming at the wrong hours of the day… or should I say night? Point is, I’m up late at night, therefore it leads to plenty of alone time. Not really physically, but mentally.

Don’t people become delusional after certain hours of the night? Not that I’m implying I’ve become delusional, but my thought process is just everywhere. Would it be weird to say that I, sometimes, feel like I’m having a conversation with my own thoughts? I think about the different people I’ve encountered in my life, the past, what I could have done to change certain situations, what I could be doing with all the time I’m wasting, etc. Sometimes, I even worry. Who worries at 4 am in the morning? I do. It’s ridiculous how much my mind works at such odd hours of the day. Sometimes, I get antsy. I hate being the only one up during these hours. I hate that nothing is open, besides Wal-Mart.

Frankly, I think I just don’t enjoy sleep as much as others do. I mean, from time to time, I like to sleep in. But lately, I feel like sleeping is just wasting valuable time. I could be doing so many things (besides studying) while everyone else is sleeping their lives away.

Last month, the last two weeks of school were probably some of the best nights of my life; granted some of them were spent studying my life away. But seriously, I stayed up til 5-7 am having the best random conversations, ever. In the end, the sun would be rising and people were up starting their day while I was ending mine. Without Kelly, those days certainly would not have existed. In little over a week, I’m gonna see this bitch and needless to say, I’m very excited. Hah. I just can’t wait until fall semester begins and we can continue to wreck havoc on Thursday nights! Haha, just kidding. Sort of.

Alright, well I think it’s that time to start reading for class.

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Mountain Men…

That’s what I usually call men with full on beards, but I don’t necessarily use it in a negative way. Actually, I don’t ever find myself putting down ‘mountain men’ in any way at all. I mean, why would I? Also, even though I put this label on just about every guy with a beard… I’m not entirely saying they all live on mountains. It’s just that I assume all ‘mountain men’ are gifted with the ability to grow that much facial hair.

Now, before I start to ramble on about hairy men, let me remind you that it IS, indeed, November; therefore, I am not randomly rambling about facial hair.

This month, also known as “No Shave November”, not only signifies the only time it’s acceptable to get away with absolutely being lazy to get rid of the hair growing on one’s face, but is also a method of raising cancer awareness. Bet you didn’t know that! (I, honestly, didn’t either ’til about a few days ago. Shame on me.) After learning that this is apart of raising awareness, it totally made sense to me. Women are able to grow their hair out, then cut off several inches to Locks of Love to donate for the children who lost their hair due to medical conditions. How else are men able to contribute? Sure, men can grow their hair out as well, but I don’t think that would reach popularity among many as “No Shave November” does.

Anyway, I was never too fond of facial hair before. Possibly because the guys I’ve previously dated weren’t really capable of growing that much facial hair to begin with. #asianprobz (There is an exception to my current boyfriend; but he claims that his hair growth is from his French side.) It also doesn’t help that all of my ex-boyfriends were younger than me. [I know, I know… insert cougar jokes here.] But really, I’ve never given facial hair a chance… before. It hasn’t been ’til this past year where I’ve come to appreciate it, and I’m not quite sure why or how. Nevertheless, I suppose it’s a good thing that I’ve started to notice this particular characteristic. Don’t get me wrong, though. The clean shaven look is still very attractive. But serious kudos to those who can pull off a beard; it can either make you or just make you look homeless.

The one thing that sort of weirds me out is when December rolls around and all that effort of growing out facial hair is completely shaven off. Plenty of guys become unrecognizable. Alright, I’m exaggerating. Really though, the baby face throws me off. In a sense, I feel as though December brings up some kind of rite of passage (or whatever the opposite of that may be) where men suddenly go back to their normals lives, or even a couple years back, by shedding off all that hair. It’s like they time traveled back to their peach fuzz phase. It makes me wonder what their next few days are like… beardless.

Anyway, I suppose the point of this was flat out say how much I appreciate this month, and its participants. OR better yet, those who just have a beard all year long. Ha. I just hope that one day, I’ll have a mountain man of my own.

Well… not literally from the mountains.

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Unfinished

When I turned 20, I thought to myself, “Oh my God, you’re gonna graduate, get married, and soon have a family” and it scared me. Ideally, I wanted to be married by 27, but at 23, I’ve started to think that maybe that’s too soon.

For anyone who knows me well enough, knows that I’m just like any other girl who likes to plan every little detail about the wedding she will one day have. I admit, it’s like a guilty pleasure for me to browse through wedding blogs and magazines for ideas, with the thought in the back of my mind asking, “would I even be able to afford that?” But realistically speaking, I shouldn’t even be thinking about the materialistic aspects of this imaginary wedding.

Realistically speaking, I should be thinking more about myself. I need to start being selfish about things pertaining to my life, at least little by little.

Since last Christmas, I’ve always toyed with the idea of just moving out to Seattle, staying in a studio apartment, downtown, with the company of a cat. It sounds pretty drastic, I know. Almost like cutting off the only world I know and starting over. I would utilize this time in my life as a way of “finding myself” —how cliché. I never understood what people meant by that, but I imagine it’s just a lot of down time to think about what one wants and how to reach their goals without any distractions.

These last couple of months, I’ve been struggling with where I see myself in the future. I don’t stress about which particular path in life I have to take because I do believe in options. I suppose the hardest part to all of this is figuring out how even begin.

Maybe I should start by getting off this and actually starting my final paper that’s due in 19 days.

Procrastination at it’s finest.