I've been spending way too much time on the computer lately - a result of having three days off, which is one day too many if you ask me. My brain is fried (ever feel as if your brain is totally detached from the rest of your body?). I'm bored. *Yawn.* Since yesterday, I have been surfing the internet off and on, aimlessly visiting sites that I've seen a thousand times already in the span of a few hours.

I desperately need and want to change my situation. I'm sick of my job. I am waiting to go to school. My days are spent at home while in the back of my mind, I know that they should be spent on something worthwhile: a hobby or God-forbid, perhaps a social life.

I want to get back into writing. Three years on the school newspaper staff seriously burned me out and pushed me near the edge of even loathing my craft, my passion. Writing was all I ever did. It was my consolation through turbulent times, a channel where I could express my thoughts and creativity.

I wrote fanfiction and often played around with original stories. I don't remember ever finishing one though. By the time I got half-way or three-quarters through with a story, writer's block reared it's ugly head and I eventually abandoned the project from frustration. Another reason why I stopped writing was because I was often disappointed with my own work. I felt so insecure about showing it to other people, because when I did let somebody else read it, the only comment I received was the same one: "It's good." What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Is it good because it's actually crap and you don't want to be honest with me, or is it because it's average and just another version of the same over-used idea?

They say that an artist is his own worst critic. It's certainly the case with me. My work, according to me, was never good enough in comparison with others. To this day I am afraid of writing because I remember my dreams of gaining recognition for my stories - a dream I shared with millions of other writers. I asked myself, "Why do I deserve to stand out above others? I am no different from the next writer."

You see, while many people spend their lives trying to be normal, I always wanted (and still want to be) different from everyone else. I don't want to be part of the crowd. What's the point? I want to stand out. I want to be the colorful one in a mass of gray. To this day I respect myself because I am different.

I am an introvert-extrovert. I like to have my opinion heard loud and clear regardless if I am asked for one. I have enough respect for myself to the point where I will not and cannot let anyone make me think I am a less of a person than they are.

I believe that life is what you make it. I often catch myself wishing that I was rich only to remember that I should be thankful for what I do have. When I was fourteen my sister, Justyna, told me over a shared plate of cheesecake, that life throws challenges at you and you're a better person because of them. In my eighteen years, I have experienced so much and I thank whatever entity out there that I have been able to successfully pull myself through. People often tell me that I seem older than my years. Not because of my physical appearance, but because of the way I carry myself.

I am not naive like other teenagers are. I think of the consequences before I act (perhaps too much). I don't think I ever found myself in the many situations teenagers face because I made the choice not to do the things that led to those predicaments. I never went to keggers. I never cared if the "cool" people talked about me behind my back - I don't think they ever wasted time talking about me because I never did anything to get their attention. High school was basically just a place where I spent seven hours learning. I did not let it integrate with my life outside those walls aside from the routine homework.

I am a loner by nature, though I also like to have the company of others (but not too often). As messed up as it sounds, I think I would be able to find sanity in being stranded on a deserted island (though by all means, send Hugh Jackman and David Beckham to keep me company).

I am in love with the idea of leading a nomadic life. I can see myself spending a month in romantic Italy, the next in obscure Malta. I hope there is a job for me out there that involves this kind of traveling. You would not even have to pay me. Just pay for my hotel room, food, and transport, and you have one happy Polish girl.

I am the definition of indecisiveness. It has it's good and bad points. I am open-minded because of it. I see both sides of an argument and like to remain neutral; however, if you put me in a grocery store and had me choose between something as trivial as havarti and swiss cheese, it would take me at least ten minutes to come to a carefully thought out conclusion. Hell, I remember spending twenty minutes at the Coach factory in Carlsbad trying to pick out a purse. I eventually walked out of the store with a pink $44 bag. I kept thinking, "Rip-off, rip-off, rip-off...", but impulse rudely gave it the shaft to the back of my mind.

I am a picky person. I admit that I do have high standards when it comes to certain subjects. I know that the golden years of my life will be spent on a hammock in front of my beach-front shack in Fiji. I know what my ideal man is like right down to the last detail - he must be well-dressed, have brown or black hair, good hygeine, expressive eyes, a sexy accent... shall I go on?

I am articulate. When I am not nervous, I know what I want to say and how to say it. I know what I want out of life (at least I think I do).

I am idealistic and optimistic, but realistic at the same time. Strange, I know. World peace can never be achieved, though we can surely make one hell of an attempt to do it. Not all people are bad - they only make bad choices. When I have a bad day, I constantly tell myself, "Today may have been shitty, but tomorrow is a new day. I have another chance."

I like to rant and complain... a lot. I know it's not going to make the situation any better; then again, it's better out than in, I say.

I would rather listen than talk. My friends like to come to me to vent, and then I offer them my advice and thoughts on whatever they are upset about. It's typical of me as a Virgo to tear apart a subject to analyze it and find exactly why it is the way it is. Am I a psychotherapist in the making?

I could probably go on forever, but now that I have listened to Jimi Hendrix's best hits two times over, I think it's time that I leave you with some last short thoughts:

It's only 7:30, but I think I am ready to go to sleep. Too much time on the computer, dammit. I really should study for my driver's license. Nevada is making me take a written test before I can get one. If I had a choice, I would keep driving with my Montana one. Dad wants to move to Arizona now. I love you dad. I respect you as my father, but... get real.

I'm currently half-way through a giant ceramic mug of Earl Grey tea, and sleep seems like a thousand miles away.

Tomorrow is finally my Friday at work, which reminds me that I need to get new shoes. My current ones finally decided to retire when I was walking across the front lawn (which has been replaced by little white and rusty red rocks), stumbled, and bent my left shoe out of shape. It was only a matter of time before they would break considering how much use I get out of them. Besides, I got a size bigger than I should have gotten - I forgot that leather stretched.

Anyway, I'm ready for another vacation. I wish I could go somewhere this summer, but I can't since I have to start school. Originally, I was planning on going to Brazil next month, though as soon as I realized that I have to wait to get a visa, I decided to go next year. I knew I would be cutting it close with having to get a new passport, plane ticket, and the visa. What I didn't understand is why the Brazilian consulate insisted that I buy my ticket to prove that I was planning on going. What the hell? What if they denied my visa application (highly unlikely, but still a possibility)? That would be wasting $1,000 of my money. Plus, the arrogant bastards wanted $100 just to process the application because of a reciprocation made especially for Americans; Brazilian citizens have to pay to get a visa, so they decided to slap a fee on theirs. I never went through this kind of trouble when I went to Europe. I wish it could be like the old days where you could just get up and go somewhere.

There is always next year and the rest of my life, I keep telling myself. Thus far, I seem to be going to Brazil, Italy, Poland, Spain and Fiji in 2006. I know. Good luck. Maybe I should go with the most realistic one. Justyna and I want to go to Italy together after stopping in Spain to visit a friend of hers. On the other hand, Fiji sounds awfully tempting with your cliché palm trees, white beaches, and turquoise water. Hehe. I could see myself now, sprawled out on a forgotten beach watching the rhythmic waves rolling in and out. An umbrella drink served by my Polynesian butler would definitely complete the picture!

Okay, you can stop gagging now. I'm going to make myself another mug of tea (because the remaining 1/4 is now a gross cool temperature). Before I go, I'm leaving some of my short thoughts. I remembered to include them now...

The Return of the Bunny Suicides is the sickest and most hilarious book I have seen in a long time. I highly recommend the one where a Harry Potter book crushes him - my supervisor and I were laughing to the point of being a public distraction. I want to see Constantine, but my stupid brother won't go with me to see it. I really should start reading one of the six or seven books I bought from work.

Yep, I went out and spent more money. I took my mom out to lunch and bought a DVD, two CDs, and also perfume to replace the one I ran out of. You're probably wondering whatever happened to "saving money". All that went out the door as soon as I decided not to go to Europe this summer. I am finally getting my priorities straight and starting college this summer.I know it doesn't make sense. How am I saving money when I am spending it on CDs, DVDs, and clothes? Don't get me wrong - I still have money and plan on making more to get myself and education!

Hopefully, between now and then I can find a better job to replace the dead-end one I have right now at the bookstore. Sure, they're giving me more hours and decided to finally put me in a different area of the store besides the cash registers. It does not satisfy me. Selfish, maybe. Vain, perhaps. I just don't want to be one of those unhappy with their job.

Besides work, I am slowly getting my crap together for Dorota's wedding in April. I bought part of her and her fiance's gift, I have my bridesmaid's dress in my closet, I made an appointment for alterations, and I am sort of shopping around for a pair of shoes. Oh, and I also found the haircut I want!

Anyway, I'm going to cut this thing short. Maybe I'll add something later.(That means you'll see a new entry in... a few weeks.)

Wait, nevermind. I suppose I can manage to churn out a biting sarcastic remarks. I keep meaning to post something every day when I am online, but you know me, I like to put things off for another day. Conveniently, I decide to... *insert long sleepy-trying-to-think-pause here* update this blog on a night where 1. I am already supposed to be in bed to get enough sleep for tomorrow - I get to wake up at five AM. Whoopee. 2. I am exhausted and delirious from a mere few hours of sleep.

My flight last night arrived in Las Vegas almost forty minutes after the original landing time. There was something about a delayed departure that made us wait for the plane, plus it took forever for the passengers on my flight to put their crap away and sit their arses down. What part of "Please take a seat and clear the aisle for other passengers so we prepare for departure" do they not understand? The stupidity of humans - an elusive mystery I will never understand. I swear that the brains of some of my fellow human beings have failed to evolve. Pity.

Anyway, enough of my bitching. I should really stop cursing. The inside of my head sounds like the thousand echoes of a trucker.

Great... it's already 10:12. I really do have to get to sleep. I need it... desperately.

Tired

I wanted to write a blog tonight. Considering that I am still awake on less than four hours of sleep, I don't see it happening. Fcuk it.

I'm going to bed!

I wanted to write a blog tonight. Considering that I am still awake on less than four hours of sleep, I don't see it happening. Fcuk it.

I'm going to bed!