Dear The World,

I'm done chasing you. Or at least, I'm done chasing you through virtual means. And by virtual, I mostly mean Facebook. And by done, I mean until March first.

I kinda like you, World. I kinda like your inhabitants. But I especially like knowing them in real life, and I feel like this whole social network thing is keeping me from being exactly that: Social. This "staying connected" is just creating this truly disturbing disconnection. So, bye-bye.

Maybe you'll miss me, World. Maybe not. All I know is that I miss me. So you know, if you want me, here's my blog. You've got my email too. And if you're special, you've got my number. Stalk me that way, because I'm done stalking you.

But you'll have to be quick to catch me, because I'll be running.

That marathon sure isn't far off anymore. :-)

Love,
Chess

So this weekend was dot dot dot.

I wish I had one really great word to sum it all up, NOT the word "awesome." Because I'm pretty darn happy after not being pretty darn happy. And I feel like I can face the next couple weeks of work, no problem.

See, there were movies, and breakfast, and laughing, and terrible church lessons, and ice-skating, and grilled cheese sandwiches, and Narnia, and cold feet, and snackums.

But I can't think of one word because I haven't slept in two days.

So you can watch this, because clearly we didn't listen to it enough and laugh our heads off every time.

First weekend off in...well, EVER.

I'm so happy.

SO. happy.

I wish I could tell you how happy I am, but there aren't words. Well, maybe a couple.

Logan. Friends. YSB. Um, homemade breakfast food.

HAHA.

Just wanted to let you know that I joined a gym.

"People-Watching at the Gym" is officially back, people!!

Get ready.

So much judgment. So little time.

(Also, I consider myself a fairly coordinated sort of dancer. Pretty sure I am soooo awkward at Zumba. I'm used to teaching line dances, not lumbering about like an elephant. Because that's what I'm doing. Lumbering about like an Asian elephant.)

I need to move out ASAP...

or I will lose my mind.

My father sulks and pouts more than any child I know. I think the best way to stay close with my family is to stay far, far away from them.

Bleargh.

Because inquiring minds want to know...

The deets, yo. The deets. You've demanded them, and by golly, I'm here to supply them!!

Except....I actually don't know the deets. I have an idea of them, but they are still in the planning process.

The idea is that I go to graduate school somewheres. The idea is that I study how to become a school counselor. Por que? Because I was a-scraping dirty plates at work last week and was like, "I miss my kids. I wish I were playing with them, instead of doing this."

(No. I am not a mother. That's for those of you new to this blog. PS. WELCOME!)

I miss being a tutor. I miss playing with kids. I miss helping them do their homework. I miss their big smiles and going to their concerts or their dance performances at the basketball games because, "Chessie, you have to come! It won't be any fun without you!" Now I know I can't do that for the rest of my life, but after working so closely with the guidance counselors, I too could be an advocate for and help head the programs that would give other college students the same great experience I had. Bonus: I don't have to assign homework, write tests, or control a classroom.

That's the idea.

I missed the application deadline to start next fall, so I have plenty of time to prepare, work, and save but...What do you think? I need all the encouragement you can spare. I'm easily spooked and discouraged. Especially by something as big as this.

(Those of you familiar with the application process, I could use all the help I can get--GRE test prep, asking for letters of recommendation [I feel super awkward about this, considering it's been a year since I graduated], writing personal statements, interviews [if applicable], financial aid, etc, etc. WHAT AM I GETTING MYSELF INTO?)

Mis queridos muchachos...

Dear Red M&M,
I wrote a really gorgeous poem about you two and half years ago. I reread it and it needs to be rewritten.

Later!
Totes over you.

Dear Cute C. the Cook,
YSB's back. But you are still my eye candy at work.

Wink,
Your coworker.

Other cook,
Why are you smiling at me all of a sudden?!

Warily yours,
Chess

Dear Teller,
I have two transactions to make today. One to savings and one to checking. Maybe I'll come inside and we can make seven people wait behind me again while we chat? :)

Sincerely,
Chess

Dear Tenants of 2 Frat 2 Furious,
You all ruined my New Year's Eve.

Annoyed (but still your seemingly only female friend),
Chester

Dear Yummy Smelling Boy,
I've a mad crush on you, still. It would be swell if you felt the same way. You should let me know. :)

Love,
Chess

I'm feeling way gruesome.

Happy New Year!! I know this is supposed to be a positive time or whatever. Time for new goals and a clean slate and all that junk. I have an awesome list of goals. But right now, all I can think about is dying. Isn't that terrible? But that's what I've been thinking about today. (And I'm scaring myself. It's like when Anne Shirley imagines herself perishing and makes herself cry. Which made me laugh.)

What if I were sick and knew I was going to die? Who would I tell? What would I do? With whom would I spend my last days? What rubbish would I eat? (Doughnuts for dinner or banana pudding? Or both?) What frivolous purchase would I spend all of my money on? Where would I go for my last chance vacation?

What secrets would I confess? (*cough*YSB*cough*)

Would anyone come to my funeral? Would anyone miss me?

Sorry. This is weird. Clearly, I need a break from working so much.