I'm Back, Recharged and Shorter than Ever!

I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long to finally get back on the computer and blog it up (like that?).  These past few days have been full of craziness, Erin finishing up her homework at 9:00, a bit later even.  New teachers, new grade, new clothes.  Everything starting over.  And goodness did it go by so fast.

Well for a start, I love absolutely every single one of my teachers.  They’re exciting, super nice, and make learning just plain fun.  I’m excited to go to school, to see my friends, to catch flowers that fall from the trees (I.J.B.M.F.--Inside Jokes Between My Friends!), to take two quizzes today (not so much J), to wear new school clothes (YAY!  It’s the whole reason for shopping!  To enjoy the clothes!  Duh!), and most of all to endure the beautiful weather that was a big part of today (and by beautiful weather, I mean clouds, sprinkling, and freezing temperatures.  That was drenched in sarcasm…  Just in case you couldn’t figure that out… J).

Even though it was super crazy that first week of school, I collected my thoughts (and my soccer instincts--BIG-HEADED MUCH?!)  and got not one but TWO goals in my soccer game last Saturday.  Total stud!  Wow, this new eighth grade teenager--I love saying that!--title is going to my head!  Tomorrow I’ll be strutting my 4 foot 9 body down the streets with my head held high, my nose sniffing the air in the regal(est) way possible.

And that’s another thing that’s just so weird.  All of a sudden, in eighth grade, not in seventh, everyone (mostly just close friends, some just random girls in my class) are telling me how cute and little I am.  I don’t know if they’re all saying this now because they’re getting taller, and I’m getting shorter… if that’s even possible J.  So many people keep telling me this, how small my hands are, how I’m fun-sized (my personal favorite).  I love it!  I love being small and little and fun-sized!  But now I’m really tired from another hectic week and wish me luck, buena suerte, for another soccer game tomorrow!  Yay for me!  And more on a diabetic story I remembered recently that made me have a full-on meltdown (I also had to do a site change at the time and had a high blood sugar, a mix that made me very pissed off) but that’s tomorrow J.

A Hard Goodbye to Give

I’m melancholy.  Devastated.  Completely full of sadness.  An old friend is going to leave me soon.  Moving on to something bigger and better.  Leaving me to fend for myself in middle school.  All alone, I soon will be.  Because my best friend is going to be gone.  I will receive visits from this friend.  Occasionally during the work week, most likely on the weekend and holidays.  Mi amigo won’t be gone forever, and will be back for the summer season.  And you’re probably wondering who this special friend is.  And I will tell you that it’s my blog.

School is starting up again, and my blog will be winding down.  I’m really sad that this has to happen, but the good student I am J, I have to make sure school is the #1 priority.  I’m going to try to write as much as I can, if there’s time after my homework.  The weekends I will have time, I’m pretty sure of that.  And holidays, or any time I have school off for that matter.  But I’d have to say it’s been quite a summer.

What a great pastime for someone like me, who absolutely, positively, whole-heartedly, every ounce in my body, as much as Zac felt (they’re no longer L) for Vanessa, love writing.  Writing is something I’ve enjoyed for as long as I can remember.  The free writing in 2^nd grade, the extraterrestrial story in 4^th, the essays in 7^th, and now the blog the summer of 8^th.  You don’t know how glad I am that I finally started this website, a blog that I wanted to start last year, but never did.  Thank goodness I eventually got on the laptop and set it up.

I wrote about my weird little childhood, my fun Lucy, my killer bubbles.  A play on a hit song, an ad of a pocket, and dirty feet.  And on top of all that, I wrote about all the crazy type 1 stories that made me loony.  This is my 64^th post, 64 days I’d written something.  And 64 days that all y’all out there turned on the computer, typed in meplusduntilc.blogspot.com and read what I wrote.  Which really means a lot to me.  But I’m not here to be corny and all. J

Totally random, but I always thought it was weird that we said corny and cheesy when we thought something was too…  I don’t know how to explain it, but you all know when we would use those two words.  Corn and cheese sounds disgusting together, which I always thought was strange.  That was super out there, but whatever.  Just something I’ve thought about for quite a long time. J

So anyway, this is not goodbye.  This is see you soon… but not as soon as what it usually has been.  In hindsight, I posted this post too early.  I still have a couple more days to blog.  I’m saying so long ahead of time.  I’ve always been one to overachieve.  J  That’s just me!  So maybe see you tomorrow, maybe in a couple of days.  Ooooh.  Super elusive.  I like this new Erin.  And I know you do too. J

School is Cool. Stay in School.

Oh how I long for school to start.
 

The smell of cafeteria food in the air.

Projects topped off with my lame art.

Projects I’m embarrassed to share.

No more movies on a Monday.

Or summer days full of sunlight.

Less cans of soda on Sunday.

Because it’s a school night.

6:00 I awake.

9:00 I go to bed.

I’m tired, for heaven’s sake.

I walk around, my legs are full of lead.

But school is not as bad as it seems.

I’m just a bit of a dramatist.

Organization is one of my dreams.

And I can’t wait for the social jist.

And then I can wear my new clothes.  Which is totally worth it, if you know what I mean.

Apparently Not Project Runway

Why, why is there bad in the world?  Why do bandits rob banks?  Murderers stop hearts?  Banana peels trip people?  And most of all, why, why do catty girls kill their ex-boyfriend who fell in love with another girl, standing over his dead body, drenched in his blood, snarling, “If I can’t have him, no one can.”--Totally a Lifetime movie right there.  I actually saw one with that very same line, except it was an abusive boyfriend who killed his ex.  What he should’ve said was, “If I can’t beat her to a pulp, then no one can.”

That whole paragraph sounded like it came from a soap opera (goodbye cheesy Disney films, hello Café, con Aroma de Mujer, [Coffee With Scent of A Woman], a Columbian soap opera.  How do I know about Café, con Aroma de Mujer?  Let’s just say, I do my research.)

But in all seriousness, it really is sad, what with all the bad going around in the world.  Actually, my family was having a conversation, more like debate J, about whether the world was more violent, or if it is just more publicly televised.  It’s hard to say if it increased or not, because things were not broadcast on an AOL or CNN website, along with newscasts galore.  It’s like the question, which I hate to be honest (because I can’t find an answer!) does a falling tree make noise if no one’s there.  I’m reading this over, and that analogy stunk.  The tree-falling question had nothing to do with the original topic.  I guess I just wanted to sound professor-ish with my intellectual question.  Better luck next time, Erin.

Earlier in my life (gosh, I sound so old saying that.  It’s like saying, “When I was a kid…”  I guess I always knew I had an old soul in a young body. J), I met this girl after moving to a new school.  Our seats were placed right next to each other, making us fast friends.  She was sweet the first day, nice to me as the weeks went by, until she wasn’t anymore.  She started dishing these digs to me every couple of days.

But that wasn’t even the brunt of her nastiness.  I showed up to her birthday party, gift in hand, smile on my face.  It was at a local movie theater, a showing of some Christmas movie.  I walked up the stairs to the back row where all the girls were sitting.  I approached her, grinning wide.  And you know what she said to me?  Not, “I’m so happy you could make it!”  Or, “Thanks for the gift!”  Nope.  She said to me something I will remember for the rest of my life. She said, “That’s what you wore to my birthday party.”  On a side note, I thought the outfit I was wearing was cute, quite frankly.  But can you believe someone would say that?  Oh my goodness.  That’s just plain mean.

The terrible part about it, was that I didn’t stand up for myself.  I was sick at the time, the time being right before I was diagnosed with D.  So sick that I let her say something like that to me.  Which to this day makes me so angry.  I didn’t even tell my mom about it for a long time.  When I finally did, she helped me find the nerve to tell her she needed to stop being mean to me.  When I finally did, she let up a little, and I made lots of fun and nice friends, leaving her to find someone else.  I so wish she’d said that to me now because I would’ve told her off like nobody’s business.  She’d never get away with something like that.  Never.  I’d have someone hold my earrings while I threw my 4 foot 9 body on top of her.  It would not have been pretty to say the least.  But she moved states now, so I don’t have to worry about her anymore.  Thank goodness.  She did get progressively nicer to me when I passed her in the halls.  There was no way we were ever going to be close friends again, however I did respect her for trying to be sweet.  She gets a couple points for that.  Very minimal, but points nonetheless.  If this were a competition, however, she’d be left in the dust.  No question to it.

Pre D

I’m watching pre-season football right now.  Not a huge fan.  Never have been.  But, can sit through a game.  A lot better at it if there’s some snacking involved, like the Superbowl.  You can always find tortilla chips, extremely salty my preference, to munch on during the biggest football game of the season.  And the commercials are amazing.  Love them.  Live for them.  Even exaggerate for them.  Kind of like what I did just now.

I clearly remember the Superbowl right before I was diagnosed with type 1.  It’s kind of hard to enjoy when you feel like crap.  My numbers were so high, consistently high, that I was guzzling an abnormal amount of water, using the toilet quite a lot (that was kind of a gross way to say that…  Rewind.  Reboot).  And I’m sure I was cranky, something my family remembers probably a lot better than I do.  Mean things constantly popping into my head.  I was not the innocent, angelic little girl I am now.  I have changed for the better, and as I grow older, I just keep getting sweeter with every year.  Yep, sweeter.  Mmmhmmm.  Don’t believe me?  Well whatever you do, do not ask my family.  Comprende?  Muy bien.

Pub Mix, a scrumptious (I love that word!) assortment of pretzel sticks, and pieces of rye bread, and all sorts of stuff, was just part of the icky feeling in my stomach.  The first part was plainly because I had diabetes and didn’t know it, meaning eating was raising my blood sugar higher and higher, making me feel worse and worse.  This is where the addicting Pub Mix came into play.  I kept eating and eating, while I curled up into the fetal position on the couch.  Ow.  I felt completely sick to my stomach.  And then a couple weeks later, I went to the doctor, and they said I had diabetes, and they told me all about what it meant, they taught my parents how to give a shot, they taught me how to test my blood sugar, and blah blah blah, a weekend later, I went home.

A class Valentine’s Day party came up soon after, and it was pretty scary playing Bingo.  I couldn’t see the letters.  Everything was so blurry, I just couldn’t make out which letter was which.  When you’ve been high for so long and you start coming into the target range, your body and eyesight has to adjust.  Still pretty frightening, though.  I remember wearing the cutest boots that day, and eating jello in the shape of a heart.  Weird things I remember.  You can’t choose the things you recall.  I wish I could though, because then I’d remember what I was doing the Christmas of 1987 at 2:23 am.  Woops.  Wasn’t even born.  I guess I have to pick another date.

So it was a really big life change, this little pesky thing called diabetes.  But something I had to do, and so did my family.  But whatever.  It was that or die.  Dying doesn’t sound fun, less fun than having to test a few times a day.  Not too shabby.  Key word: too. 

But it’s not my dream, Mom.  It’s yo-   What’s going on with me?  I’m being Cheesy Disney fiml-ified.  Somebody stop me!--In the name of love.  Ack!