The Begining of the End

So this is how it starts. I'm not even sure I should really be doing this, since the last time I attempted to write down my thoughts, it ended up disastrously. It seems that people don't really like to read about themselves, especially if what is being said is even slightly negative. Hopefully this time I will manage to keep this both anonymous and discreet. We'll see how that goes. I'm guessing that, with my luck, it will be found ONLY be those whom I do not want to read it, while everyone else in the world remains completely clueless as to my existence.

That's usually how it goes. Besides, my life is hardly interesting enough to garner a large following. This is not to say that I lead a boring existence. In fact, I think I have entirely too much drama. Or at least I did. Things seem to have calmed down for the time being. Thankfully.

So I suppose I should begin by describing myself. My name's Krista. I'm twenty-two years old, and I'm approaching the last few weeks of my University career. It's kind of scary, because I'm unsure of what the future holds. My degree is going to be in History, with an English minor. I know what you're thinking. "What are you going to do with that?" is a standard question I have to field. In response, I usually grimace and explain that there are many options for someone with a history degree. Hell, if I wanted to, I could apply to Law School and become a top notch lawyer. Or I could...well...I could do a lot, thank you very much. However, I usually disappoint people by telling them that I've applied to teachers college. Stop laughing. I actually want to teach. I can see the look on your face. You think I am crazy. I think you are stupid. So we're even.

I find out in April whether or not I got in anywhere. I know for a fact (well...not for a fact, but...the statistics basically make what I know a fact) that I will not get in anywhere this year. Almost no one gets in their first time applying. It's insanely competitive, and a bunch of other excuses. Frankly, I hate the fact that I have to wait until April to receive the worst (or best, if heaven decides to open up and grant one of those "miracles" that I hear so much about) news of my life. I can't even really start to plan my life until then. If I knew now that I did not get in, I could have a good cry, and then move on with my life. Maybe sign a new lease here in Guelph. Instead, I have to wait around, and then find a place to sublet for the summer. Then, if I didn't get in, I've got to sublet some more, or find a lease that starts in September...which I doubt is very easy to find in a University town. The best scenario would be that I get into teachers college, sublet in Guelph until September, and then pack things up and move to my wondrous new (and short) life in Teachers College.

So that's one horrible waiting game that I have to play. The other, of course, concerns my love life. Ugh. Now that one is even messier, and unlike the deadline for Teachers College, this one has no definitive date in which everything will become clear. I've got to wait around, and see what happens. Bullshit. I should state here and now that I am THE most impatient person on the face of the earth. Honestly. Don't underestimate the level of my impatience. It's legendary. I get cranky, etc. etc. Anyways...

As I was saying, I've got to wait around until something falls into my lap. The thing is, I'm not entirely sure that I would even know it when it finally did fall. I don't really seem to know what I want from life in general, and from a man in particular. My friends all tell me that I can't be so guarded and picky. I disagree. I think more people should be picky. Working in retail, I see a lot of couples. A lot of mismatched couples. A majority of them consist of a very attractive man with a not so attractive woman. What is that about!? I want that attractive man, dammit! Why should he settle for someone who is sub par, looks wise? Oh sure, maybe she's a gem in the sack, or perhaps she's the most intelligent thing since Stephen Hawking's (or whatever that guys name is). But dammit, everyone knows that you've got to be attracted to a person! PHYSICALLY. Ha ha ha. Wow, I can't believe I got that far. I'm totally joking. Kind of. Looks are key, but not totally key. They must be part of a complete package. And I mean complete. If I guy is going to get with me, he's got to be a number of things: smart, driven, funny, considerate, attractive, and REAL. What does real entail? I'm not entirely sure, by definition, but I know it when I see it. Fake people can just...go away. I have no use for them. They are a waste of space.

Anyways. As you can see, I have very specifically vague requirements of men. I'm a complicated being, I know. I know what I want, and yet I don't. Hence my troubles.

Life is so irritating. I can't wait for everything to fall into place. Too bad that won't be for ages.

Or so it seems.