Remember that Leonid Meteor Shower that was supposed to be such a big deal at the beginning of this week? I got my camera ready for my first attempt at taking star photos. Needless to say, the shower was a major fail. (Boo you, NASA! Even though you have nothing to do with the shower itself, thanks for getting our nerdy hopes up.) I've been learning to take a lot more time out these days to appreciate the beauty of nature. 70 degree weather in the middle of November. Fall colors against the backdrop of a deep blue sky. A clear, starry night. Love living in the south.  

I'm also loving Zee Avi's voice. I came across her songs this past summer as I was hunting for more music to listen to. There's something about her voice that's pleasantly old school and vintage.

Boston was oodles of fun. I loved getting girl time with my friend! New England is a pretty cool place to visit. Three words: Sam Adams Brewery Free Tour & Beer... um, six words? Those crazy cities in the north have so much to offer that the South just doesn't - well, other than warm weather, sweet tea and racism. I loved the feel of the city, the historical significance, the diversity. It snowed like crazy on a Sunday and Monday morning brought with it not even a trace of snow, only sunshine and deep blue skies. This is why I would like to be a traveling nurse. I could live in a different city for 3 to 6 months at a time and see what it's like. Although, I'm sure I could be terribly lonely if my nursing school buddies don't do it with me. Eh. I think I could live in Boston. For 3 months. Preferably June, July, and August. Followed by some exotic city in Hawaii - aloha!

I should be studying, but I'm taking a much needed procrastination break from the world of pharmacology.

Went to a local park with my parents today for a nice walk/picture fun. The park used to be a 1930s farm. I've lived in the area all of my life and I had no clue it even existed. I liked that they kept the old house and some of the buildings still intact. While we were there, we ran into a group of asian women having a picnic. They brought a rice pot. My mom thought it was hilarious and kept laughing. "Silly asian women!" . . .Uh, mom. You're a silly asian woman!

I'm eagerly awaiting for this week to fly by because by the end of it, I will be in Boston hanging out with my girl Dorothy. Gah! I'm so excited. New England in the fall. The Beach. Quincy Market. Boston Public Library. Harvard Square. Brewery tours + free beer in the early afternoon? (Duh, I'm there.) The Freedom Trail.

I've never been and this is my chance to see a little more U.S. history up close and personal. Yeah, that's right. I'm a super nerd, but it's all good. Before, when I had a life, I used to love watching the history channel. (Okay, sooooo that doesn't really help with my argument that I used to have a life.) The movie National Treasure? Loved it. Yes, I know that Nicolas Cage was in it and sometimes he really sucks, but I still give it two thumbs up - way up.

Fuhreakin' excited.

Mindy messaged me with news on the discovery of a mutual male friend's Match.com profile. At that point, I knew I was in for some excitement.

 

By way of sheer boredom/curiosity/procrastination (take your pick), I began browsing and came across 5 profiles of guys I know. FIVE! And let me just say that thanks to free online regisration, a fake email address and an extremely witty username, I had an entertaining evening. I was laughing hysterically, partly because these boys write the most retarded things I have ever read and also because I think I've subconsciously realized that I might be putting up my own profile in the possible-near future. Dear Lord, please...no.

 

Here are some of my faves among the plethora of testosterone-written profiles (with my thoughts). Mind you, these are real:

 

 

• If your a free spirit, loving and beautiful women, then I would love to talk…  Dear Born-and-Raised-in-the-USA, if you would improve your grammar, then I would not make fun of you.

 

• Athletic and toned. Lie. I know you. You went to my high school, and you, Sir, are neither athletic NOR toned.

 

• 5’3” height. ZOMG - hotness.

 

• To my fair lady: I just want you to be smart and graceful. Please believe me we will definitely have a great time together. Umm. . . what???

 

• Definitely need a chick that’s a little spunky and can dish it out, bonus points there. That’s funny. You dish it out all of the mother effing time, but you can’t take it. Hypocrite much? [I know this guy and let’s just say that he has a bad case of word vomit. He’s always verbally bashing people in the form of ‘jokes’. Haha to my fist in your face.]

 

• (A guy actually put up a photo of himself, shaking hands with an old woman in a wheelchair.) No, no, don’t be silly – I don’t think you’re trying too hard! *playfully slaps arm*

 

• I think what attracts me the most about a woman is her desire to take care of her man. The feeling of getting home and knowing that someone like that is waiting on you, hand and foot, is well, heavenly. What. The. Hell.

 

• (And the award for most awkward picture while attempting to display musculature. . . Mr. Muscle Muscles who is shirtless and wearing overalls while making a clay pot. Why, yes – just like the movie Ghost).

 

 

Quote of the week:

So, VitaBella, what do you think he’s reading?

The Douchebag Diaries.

He was right there, only a few feet away from me - and I blew it. I was on the renal floor of the hospital. Kidneys. Sick people. Urine. Definitely the perfect environment for a romance. Like the fresh prince, I was chillin' out max and relaxin' all cool, looking through a patient's chart. I hurriedly scribbled down the info that I needed, closed the binder and put it in its proper place. I knocked on my patient's door, walked in and introduced myself.

Me:  Hi, my name is VitaBella and I'm a student nurse. I just wanted to introduce myself because I'll be back here tomorrow, helping with your care.

Patient: (a genuine smile on her face, winces and catches her breath from the stab of pain she was feeling) Well, hello! That is wonderful!

Patient's husband: (also a great smile on his face) Very nice. I see you wore your ballet shoes today! (pointing to my magnificent gold Target flats)

Me:  Yeah, but I TOTALLY forgot my tutu.

Patient's husband: (chuckles then pauses and looks down at my hands) Wow, your veins are so close to the surface of your skin! I can see them so clearly.

Me:  That is the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me! Haha. Yeah, when I run, it's even worse. You can see them stick out.

Patient's husband: Run?! Who were you running from?? (smirk on his face)

Me:   (Looking cautiously over my shoulder and whisper) The cops.

Patient's husband: (with a Santa Clause-like chuckle) Ohhh, it's one of those neighborhoods.

We chat some more and then I leave the room. With my white lab coat neatly pressed, stethoscope around my neck and a clipboard tucked under my arm, I head down the hallway. As I look up, I see him: a pharmacy student, whose lab coat indicated that he was from the same university. Dark hair, taller than me. He looked slightly gruff and tired as though he had been studying for a major exam, but he was still ridiculously handsome. He was already looking at me by the time I looked up and when our eyes met, he smiled. He smiled a great big smile and if I hadn't been stopped by a nurse, I probably would have slammed my face into the wall. So, in acknowledgement of his smile and his 'hello' nod I did ABSOLUTELY NOTHING. I had a moment of retardedness. I didn't even smile back. As I continued down the hall, answering the nurse's questions, I kept mentally kicking myself in the shins. Ugh. Why didn't I do anything? Just a simple smile would do! When I reached the end of the hall, I pushed the elevator button and then casually turned around. The pharm guy was doing some paperwork and looked up at me. He smiled again and I jumped into the elevator as fast as I could.

I am so GLAD that I'm 26 years old and I still act like a 14 year old girl. Not cool.

(comic by Lela Lee)

Looking through a magazine article regarding up-and-coming fashion designers.

Me: Oh my gaw, look at all these people. They're in their late twenties and making a name for themselves. I'm in my late twenties. What am I doing with my life?!

Friend: Um. Saving lives.

Me: [silence]

Touché.

Nursing school has completely pwned me the past couple of weeks (hence the lack of entries for almost an entire month). It's like when you haven't seen your best friend all summer & you're super excited to see her, but as soon as you run to her to give her a big hug, she bitch slaps you and tells you to get to work. Yeah, my friends don't do that to me either, but that's about the best way I could think of to describe getting back to school. I've already had my fill of exams, clinical, and countless hours of lecture. It's going to be one crazy semester.

In other extremely important life updates:

• I chopped off all my hair and I feel like a bald free woman. Apparently it makes me look a little more 'chic' and a little more like Natalie Portman.
  

• In general, I'm enjoying life a ton more. I'm back to my crazy, absolutely non-normal self and I love it.
  

• One of my best friends got engaged! The bling is phenomenal and so is her future hubby.
  

• I still enjoy that feeling I get after going for my 3-mile run. It's so refreshing, especially after you take a shower and you're not so stankalicious anymore.
  

• Two of my friends from college got married over the weekend. I learned that my friends are hilarious, weddings that involve asian people equals waiting forever and a day for food, and that Stella is my new favorite beer.

• And . . [thinking hard] . . . wow, I really have an uneventful life - sorry fellow voxers. I will try to live it up a tad more.

'Til next time, stay fly.

- waking up to a deep blue and emerald-colored ocean with white sandy beaches
- having breakfast on a balcony with 270 degrees worth of beauty
- taking a million and one photographs
- being in the company of 10 people just as crazy as me

. . . just a few reasons why the trip to Destin was amazing. 

A few months ago, I came across an article featured on CNN that said the one person in our lives who ruins our happiness is ourselves. We sabotage relationships around us that we’ve already mentally labeled as ‘epic fail’ because we fear being hurt. Apparently, we all have a pretty pessimistic outlook on life. But can you blame us? There are tons of assholes out there (and they’re not just guys).

When I first read the article, my initial thought was, “hah! yeah right. I don’t sabotage my own happiness . . . I mean, come on. . .psh, I’m not an idio- . . .I mean. . . I wouldn’t . . . ugh.” Then I realized that I was the perfect exhibit A.  

When it comes to relationships, I have no idea what the hell I’m doing. I just like to pretend I do. And I do fear. I fear what every single human being fears. I fear getting hurt, facing rejection, being left alone. So what do I do? I date douchebags. I date losers who I know will disappoint. In a disturbing way, it makes things a little bit easier.  Do the math:

Believing relationship is doomed to fail + dash of douchery = feeling justified in believing it was going to fail. . . because it did.

Reasons I have said a big fat “get away from me” to guys who have pursued me in the past included, but were not limited to, (A) your personality sucks and so does your face (B) I don’t even know you (C) I’m sorry, do I have “easy stripper” written across my forehead or (D) this could really work and that’s scary soooo I’ll be on my way now – adios!

In college, my real life (D) example was **Tom Welling. Tom was sweet and it definitely helped that he was fun to look at. He was tall, toned, good smile and he had a sarcasm that rivaled my own. I met Tom in a chemistry course. I would come to find out that even years later, Tom remembered exactly what I was wearing and what book I was reading when he saw me for the first time. Eventually, we got to know each other better and would walk back to the dorms together. I loved talking to him. We’d talk about our lives, our families. We never ran out of things to say. We would talk for hours on aim (it was an institution of nerds). One night we pulled an all-nighter for an exam with another classmate. We goofed around and talked a ton. Then, the sun rose and we all realized we were screwed for that exam. I didn’t care.

I had heard via mutual friends of ours that Tom was crushing on me. Tom also verbalized his feelings a couple of times thanks to the influence of his good friends Corona and Budweiser. He pulled out weeds flowers from the carefully manicured campus lawn and handed them to me late one night. On a Valentine’s day, he made a poster board-sized card and delivered it in person. His family lived in the Middle East because of his dad’s line of work so he wrote me a letter and sent me pictures of what life was like there. One year, he brought back a desert rose that was naturally made out of sand. I'm also convinced that he took another unnecessary chemistry course so that we'd have at least one class together.

I liked Tom a lot. And what did I do? I ran. I ran as fast as I could. Whenever he’d get the nerve to ask me out, I’d pretend I didn’t hear him. All of this went on for years and for some reason, Tom didn’t give up on me. Eventually, he began dating other girls but, in between, I’d hear from him again. He would send me messages asking how I was doing, telling me I was beautiful or saying that he heard a song on the radio that reminded him of something I had told him once. Then, we graduated and I moved to China.

The summer I moved back to the States, I heard from Tom. He was in a relationship with a cute girl and sent me pictures. We kept chatting and towards the end of our conversation, Tom indirectly told me that he still liked me – a lot. I knew it wasn’t right (he was in a freaking relationship!) and so did he, so we stopped talking. In all honesty, if I could go back, I would definitely do things differently. Stupid, stupid girl.

However, I like being alone – for now. I can do what I want, when I want. My time is my own. I don’t have to make sacrifices and I don’t have to be under constant stress that I’ll be ‘let-go’ because I said something stupid, did something wrong, wasn't good enough or because I looked like crap thanks to that time of the month and the wonders of bloating. No expectations. So, no worries.

But I know that one day, I’ll want to have a best friend to come home to, someone to share life with and someone to make out with when I’m bored (jk). And on that one day, I’ll stop sabotaging.

**Not really his name, but let’s call him that for giggles.