Reminds You You’re Still Human 

Two summers ago, I wrote about how I endured (somewhat painlessly actually) the snakebites that now adorn my lip in aqua labrets. This winter, I’m writing about something else I endured rather painlessly as well…My first tattoo.

I felt comfortable walking into the tattoo shop again, this time with my mom and sister, despite the fact I wasn’t getting anything pierced. I felt confident. I felt outrageously excited and not at all nervous as I spoke to the tattoo artist and told him what and how I wanted it to look and where. After drawing it up and figuring out how the size and such, I was taken back to my tattoo artist’s designated space. With the correct placement and agreement on said placement reached, I was ready to lie down in the tattoo chair and begin what I’d come here to receive. My first tattoo…On my lower stomach.

Before you start to freak out, it honestly didn’t hurt. Sure it was a little weird, but in all honesty it felt kind of good. It’s strange to say, but what else can I say? I guess I have a high pain tolerance. If only some people’s tolerance for other things were as strong…I would like to say that there was small talk  while I was getting the needle expertly carving words into my lower stomach, but there wasn’t. And there didn’t need to be. I didn’t squirm. I wasn’t screaming bloody murder. I admired the assorted artwork and articles on the wall of his station, and smiled whenever I heard him sing whatever song was playing overhead. Yes, I smiled. I couldn’t help but smile.

After a little over a half hour, my first tattoo was finished, and I found myself still smiling. How could I not? I’d just gotten my first tattoo, and I loved it. Well, I love it still, but you get the idea. Looking back at me in my reflection was ‘Walk Between The Raindrops’  across my lower stomach in black, the dotting of the “I” in raindrops being a light blue raindrop. Still gushing uncontrollably, I was told by Travis (I actually got his name this time) how to clean and take care of it, then proceeded to shake his hand and thank him for the great work. I was still gushing as we drove back home, and I’m still gushing as I sit here listening to Maroon 5, writing this post.

I’m surprised. I’m delighted that I went through with it, getting a tattoo, let alone my first, on such a spot as that. It was a big decision, especially actually going through with it, and being able to say it was enjoyable. Especially since it’s permanent. It’s something that will be with me for the rest of my natural life, and I love it…Now, my biggest decision this early Monday morning is whether or not to go to sleep, swooning to my Classic or finish watching Gangster No. 1 on Netflix. If only all decisions in life were that simple.

Pain is the most beautiful thing in world…It reminds you you’re still human.

Plunging In, Head-First 

The last time I graced this blog with my words and experiences was in November…2 months ago…No, I haven’t fallen off the face of the Earth, no matter how many times I wished I could. Yes, I said it. There are times where I just wanted to turn off my cell phone, and not deal with anyone. Not log onto Facebook for a couple of days, and not deal with anything. It’s safe to say I did that. So while I haven’t fallen off the planet, I have learned a multitude of new things about myself since the beginning of the new year.

I remember at the end of my last post that I had no idea what would come from Autumn’s falling leaves and Winter’s impending snow…It’s now more than safe to say that I know what they brought…No job, surprisingly amazing health and an obstacle I’d rather not mention for the memories’ sake. Yes, you read correctly. My baker job didn’t work out as planned, but strangely, that isn’t really one of my major concerns right now. That’s right. I said a job isn’t one of my main concerns at the moment. I will find another job when I’m damn good and ready. Sure, my mornings are sometimes sleepless because of the night schedule I managed to uphold, but that’s nothing episodes of The Twilight Zone and other various titles on Netflix can’t occupy. And reading. I’m reading again. I finished The Devil in the White City that I’d been reading since last April, American Psycho (for the second time), The Great Gatsby, and am currently putting a healthy dent in The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo. It’s safe to say my inner bookworm is finally being unleashed after a long hiatus.

While the new year brought out my long-lost passion for reading, it also brought good health. Amazing health at that. Now, it might not seem like a very amazing thing, great health and all, but for me it is. Especially after what it put me through last year. No, it didn’t put me in the hospital or anything like that, but it made me learn something new about myself that I don’t think I was really seeing…To put it bluntly, I turn into a bitch when I don’t feel good. When I’m having a stomach-clenching flare-up, I become frustrated and take everything out on everyone else…Thankfully, I’m not like that anymore. I didn’t really change who I am, but rather just my medication. Sure, it might be more pills I have to take now, but I’m feeling a hell of a lot better. I wake up without stomach pain. I don’t find myself staying up at night because of stomach pain. I don’t randomly freak out and go into manic fits because of said stomach pain. I’m feeling amazing, and it’s a great feeling.

Despite the fact the beginning of this new year kind of sucked in its own little way, it’s also been the best start I would’ve asked for. I learned that while it’s great to have a job, I’m a lot less stressed without it, and feel significantly better health-wise. I don’t think I will ever really stop reading, writing or blogging, not matter how long I find myself uninspired or on hiatus for. I have a lot of new ideas for posts and poetry buzzing around in my brain, along with a couple posts I’ve been working on for a good 2 years now. Yes, you read right. I have a couple posts I started 2 years ago and have yet to finish. I blame my lack of motivation at the time, and everything in between…

I know I said this before, but I’ll say it again. This year is going to be different. No more going a couple of months without blogging. When I first started my blog, I would write every day, sometimes multiple times a day, and honestly, I sometimes miss that. This year will definitely be different. I’ll share more of my poetry and such, along with anything else that strikes my fancy that particular day, along with the unfinished posts I mentioned earlier.

…With all of this said, I’m just happy. I’m ready for whatever this new year has to offer.

I’m plunging in, head-first.

The Objects Of My Distraction 

Over the past two months or so, I haven’t really written anything…I’ll be honest…I’ve been ‘neglecting’ my love of writing by not really writing much at all. I used to think that inspiration would just hit and I could write something that came to mind just like that, but that’s the problem…Inspiration doesn’t always strike at the right time, and right now is no exception. Yeah, I’m writing but that doesn’t necessarily mean I’m inspired by some force other than myself…No, I’m just determined and motivated to make a change for the better.

I’ll be honest, I miss writing on this little blog of mine. I really do. You’re probably asking why I haven’t been writing and I have the answer…I found myself too busy with work/life/everything in between and unusually unmotivated to write at all…It’s honestly pretty terrifying, going from writing almost all the time, to finding yourself hardly writing at all. I find it kind of upsetting that I put something I adore on the back-burner as such, but I suppose that things you love have to become accustomed to the backseat sometimes.

Now that we’ve established that I’ve neglecting my passion of writing and what not (only to resurrect it back from the flames of its undying glory), let me just say that I’ve kept it in the dark for a good reason…A little thing called Life decided to struck like lightning and insisted on staying longer than expected. Through all the so-called torrents of rain and chaos that come with Life, there are always silver linings and rays of perpetual sunshine. Yes, I know what you’re thinking…Did she really just type that? Truth is, yes I did. It just came to mind and formed into words on this entry you’re reading, but yes it’s the honest-to-something truth.

These past three months sure have been an adventure to say the least. It’s safe to say that I now know what getting seven staples in the back of my head feels like, both put in and taken out…I know that just by that statement right there, the question of ‘What the hell?’ comes to mind, correct? Well, let me make a long, very fuzzy story short…And believe me, it was fuzzy because I don’t really remember it happening. Without sugar-coating any of this story, I fainted at work (how? the world may never know…), thus hitting the back of my head on the cold concrete that makes up the foundation of our lovely stockroom. Needless to say, I was rushed to the emergency room, not far from where I work, and my work day (and week for that matter) was cut short. But the tale will not be complete without adding all the parts that were not so fuzzy, right? Thankfully, I do remember everything after I fell, just not really the actual falling part. Go figure.

The worse part of the whole ordeal was the neck brace and endless waiting at the hospital. Yes, its standard procedure when dealing with head/possible neck injuries that the patient is fitted with a neck brace, which are very uncomfortable I might add. You did hear right…The worst part was the awkward neck brace and all the waiting around, somewhat, if not totally unsure…Not the actual process of finding out that you indeed need staples and that someone is actually going to be stapling the gash in your head closed with said staples. The ambulance ride to the hospital from the store where I work seemed to be somewhat of a blur. I remember being asked multiple times what happened by the EMS gentlemen before and after I entered the ambulance and honestly, I was starting to get frustrated and kind of pissed off…Yes, I indeed know my name, date of birth and all of that. Yes, I know where I work, that I indeed did faint, and that I am bleeding from a gash in my head. All of this I’m fully aware of, just not the full extent of the situation. The very reason why I’m going to the hospital. I can’t say that I blame them though, asking me those questions was just the standard, everyday protocol and I wasn’t really objecting to any of it…Mainly because I couldn’t, thanks to the neck brace and I just wanted to not move at all.

After a series of x-rays and such, I was informed that my head/neck/spine and any other parts of my body that would’ve been affected by the fall were totally fine, and that I could go home once the gash in my head was taken care of. Thanks to the advances in modern medicine, (and the fact that my loving mother and boyfriend were there, making me laugh and being the best distractions…) the only thing I felt was a little bit of pressure from the staples as they were going in. Yes, my mom and boyfriend were both there, keeping me company and listening to me complain about how much the neck brace sucked something awful. 10, maybe 15 minutes give or take some minutes later, I was on my merry little way. In pain nonetheless, with seven staples in my head and careful instructions on how to care for them and that I should be back in about 7 to 10 days to have them removed, but all in all, peachy keen…Peachy keen with a bloodstain on the neck of my pink and black flannel, a promise of whatever I wanted to eat and absolutely no explanation for why I fainted. Yes, you heard right. No explanation. Apparently, my blood work showed no levels of anything out of the ordinary and as far as everyone could see, I was perfectly ‘healthy’. Sitting here now writing this, I still have absolutely no idea what exactly made me faint that Tuesday in November, but it is safe to say that I’m one step closer to getting my health in check and under control, via the reason why ‘healthy’ was written as such.

Let’s face it: I’m not a shining beacon of perfect health. No one is. We all have our fair share of things that are wrong with us and I’m no exception…Now, enough of my droning on and back to what I was saying before…I’m one step closer to getting my health under control because, honestly, if it’s not one thing, it is indeed another. First let me just make a long story very, very short and cut to the chase. I have had asthma for as long as I can remember and I spent the majority of last year being told that I have/don’t have something called Crohn’s Disease, only to find out in November that I indeed do have the illness…

Please, before you continue reading this, don’t feel sorry for me. Please. I honestly hate when people feel sorry for me just because I have health issues. Everyone has health issues. I’m actually beginning to wish that everyone in this world could just be 100% sickness/illness/disease-free, that’s how sick I am of everyone having something wrong with them. People I know that could be used as poster children for perfect health suddenly have some kind of random health issue that you honestly never thought they would have. It’s just scary. The whole world just needs to be healthy already…Yes, I know I’m going on and on and what I’m asking for will probably never happen in this lifetime, but what the hell? It honestly doesn’t hurt to hope every once in a while.

…As I was saying before I went on about my feelings toward health, I have Crohn’s Disease. It’s honestly kind of weird because this around this time last year, I was dealing with it…I just had no idea what it was called and I seriously had my doubts that I even had the said illness. Once again, making a long story short, I had surgery on my stomach last year (one of the main reasons there were practically no entries for the months of May and April) and after that, I thought that I was pretty much cured of any and all stomach issues that had been plaguing me for some time, but of course that wasn’t the case. One minute, I was being told I had Crohn’s Disease and the next, I was being told I didn’t. As it turns out, every doctor looks at things differently because, well, no two doctors are the same. Sure, they practice the same thing, but let’s face it: They all have their own way of looking at things and giving their honest, educated opinions. Why was this such a big deal? My surgeon was completely convinced that I didn’t have the disease because everything came back negative after the surgery, and I honestly agreed with him. I wasn’t really going to second-guess someone who just spent roughly 5 or 6 hours cutting and sewing my stomach back into its correct state of being. My gastroenterologist was still convinced that I had the disease…And sure enough, some odd months later and almost a year after my surgery, I find out that I, do indeed, have Crohn’s Disease…Apparently, I had the intestine-inflaming illness the entire time, the fact that I needed surgery just masked the fact that I had it. Go figure. If it isn’t one thing, it surely is another.

Steering away from all the negativity, it’s safe to say that trying to keep my health in check hasn’t yet stopped me from putting my other passion on the back-burner. Music. Yes, if you’ve had the chance to read one of my many random music posts, you’d know how much I love music and love to write about it. Call it nerdy or whatever you want, but once again, I don’t care. Music and writing are my passions and that is that. These past three months, I’ve found that I’ve definitely broadened my horizons on the music front. I’m always trying to listen to something new whenever I can and now is no exception. There are a lot of bands that I’ve fallen in love with and some that I’m re-discovering, but there are two that I’ve found myself listening to a whole lot lately: The Damned Things and Florence + The Machine. I would go on and on about both musicians and other musicians that I’ve just recently fallen in love with or have been involved with for some time now, but I feel like I need a bigger space to express such findings…Which I fully intend to sooner or later. 🙂

There are more than likely a lot of other things that have been going on in Noelle’s little world of chaos and excitement…I just can’t for the life of me think of anything else that could be of any real importance right now or appropriately fit in with everything I’ve said so far. Granted, I’ve written things of no significance before and probably pieced different topics together hundreds of times, but still. I’m trying to make a change for the better this year, no matter how cheesy it sounds. As I’ve said before, I love writing and I honestly don’t want to see it become charred on the back-burner again. It just wouldn’t be cool, not one bit. Fear not, possible followers of this blog, there will most definitely be more to read. Without a doubt, there will be more to substance on this little piece of sanity I call my blog.

These are the objects of my distraction…Plently more where those came from, and finding more and more everyday.

Third Day Of My Last Year

It’s Monday. The third day of my last year. I’m starting to really annoy myself when I think that. The third day of my last year…It sounds like I’m gonna die next year or something. How horrible. I still can’t get my head around the fact that I’m a senior, though. Getting past that totally annoying saying that I have to not say anymore…Yes, it is indeed Monday. And this Monday, I actually had fun in gym.

Last night and this morning, I felt, well not the best. Since the weather is deciding to go to from really warm to really chilly, my allergies and asthma were acting up. Not very cool, believe me. I feel asleep on the couch in our living room, which is something I never do on school nights. Well, I do, just not when I’m fully ready to sleep in my own bed. I feel asleep on the couch, with a chocolate brown fleece blanket over me, watching the show Monsters Inside Me. I don’t know if I fell asleep because I was tired or because of the really gross cases on the show. People were getting sick from bugs that were inside them. Actually inside them…I’m surprised I even slept.

I woke up a little later than I’d hoped, but I still woke up. I was feeling better. Still hurting in some places, but I was ok enough to go to school. I took a shower, got dressed, ate, fooled around with my hair, and did an asthma treatment. A big asthma treatment. The same asthma treatment that made me leave for school later than I usually would have, but it wasn’t really a big deal. I could hardly get into school anyway.

I stood there, in front of school, with countless other people, waiting to get into school. It wasn’t raining like it had been on Friday, which was good. It was actually a pleasant morning to be standing outside. If only I wasn’t at school…I watched people cut in front of other people. I didn’t cut in front of anyone, or at least I tried not too. I was just standing there, listening to AFI’s new single “Medicate”. I must have listened to it more than 5 times while waiting in the make-shift lines. A couple more in between classes through out the day. Finally, I made it into school. 20 minutes late, but I made it. My first period teacher was surprisingly ok with the fact that I was late. Others filed in after me a couple minutes later.

Most of this really sunny, chilly Monday was ordinary. All of my classes going by really quick, which is pretty normal because I only have 6 classes this year. English seemed to drag on, though. Probably because we weren’t doing anything. People were sitting there, holding their own conversations, while my teacher took attendance. He said something about handing us out books, but I guess there are more people coming in. Speaking about people coming into class, my French class was insane! There seemed like there were alot more people as oppose to Friday. The maximum capacity is, like, 25 and I think it might have been exceeded or will be soon.

The bell that ended English rang fashionably late, as I’m thinking it will all year. Lunch went by fast. I didn’t get lunch today, even though I told myself I would today. I just didn’t feel like getting up. My laziness for ya. I wished that I’d remembered to take my Amp energy drink out of the fridge before I left this morning. The bell that ended lunch was also, fashionably late. I walked into gym, dreading it a little.

The gym, for some reason, didn’t look as big as it did last week. Maybe the reason why my dread wasn’t so strong as it before. Now, I don’t hate gym at all. I love gym. I love playing volleyball. In my eyes, it’s the best stress reliever. Especially, if I’m having a bad day. I pretend the ball is someone’s head. Always works to relieve stress for me. I sat by this girl from my English class, Mariah, and my friend from freshmen year, Alyssa. After it took my gym teacher what seemed like forever to take attendance, the three of us decided to play ping pong.

At first, I wasn’t too sure if I should play because of my breathing, but it was fine all day, so I figured what the hell? Not the best move on my part, but I know my limits. I know what I can and can’t do. Mariah and Alyssa played a game of ping pong first. I was just watching against the bleachers. When they finished playing, I played Mariah. I honestly didn’t know how good I was at ping pong. I’d never played it to know whether I was good or not. I guess I’m a little too talented, I hit the ball up so high, it got stuck in between the upper part of the bleachers. We asked the other gym teacher if we could go get it, and she let us. All three of us walked up the steps next to the boys’ lockeroom, and found ourselves actually on top of the bleachers. I’d never been up there before, only of my firsts as a senior. After we got the ball, Alyssa and I played a game. Once again, I guess I was good. I didn’t get it up on top the bleachers again, which was good, but I barely missed the ball, either. I was what Alyssa called a “beast”.

Even when we were playing volleyball, two against one, I was still a “beast”. Two on one isn’t fair, but it’s how we played. I wished we had another player, but there wasn’t anyone else I knew and all the other individuals in the gym were preoccupied with their own things, and I’m very shy. People I don’t know + Being shy = Being very, very shy…I wasn’t as rusty as I thought I would be. The last time I’d played volleyball was in May, when my one teacher wasn’t there and my class had to go to the gym. Every serve Mariah hit to me, I hit. I never knew I had such an intensity for volleyball. I never missed a hit, with the exception of the soft ones or the ones that went over my head. And me being so tiny, it’s not that hard. The first 5, maybe 10 minutes of playing, my wrists were red. It didn’t bother me, though. It’s the only sport I’m relatively good at, so I figured at a little pain and soreness is worth it. We played until my gym teacher told us to put the ball up. My wrists were still red. My last bell of the day rang. Fashionably late, of course.

I walked home in the beauty and coolness of the afternoon sun, my wrists still red, still listening to “Medicate”. Today, I surprisingly learned alot. People who seemed like, not nice people, turn out to be ok. French is wayyy too crowded. My art teacher will not be at school this Friday. My English class has more people, and we will slowly, but surely be learning something soon. I write too much when my Health teacher only asked for 3 to 5 sentences. I have listened to AFI’s new single too many times. Wayyy too many times. That’s my Monday.

I guess I’m a “beast”.