Less than two weeks left.

Less than two weeks left of my summer at one of the most enriching laboratory experiences I've ever had.  It's really hard to decide between the academic prowess of this summer, or the summer of last - last summer was indeed, overall super balls-to-the-walls progressive, as it was while I was enduring the heartwrenching recovery of depression and heartbreak. Surely, overall, last summer was the most generous in overall progress.  However, here, I experience the environment of a research organization receiving nearly a billion dollars of funding from the National Institutes of Health, while my home university receives less than $800,000.  Both research institutes have amazing faculty and research, but this experience has been the scientific research equivalent of a child in a candy shop.

It is very evident that there are two types of people in my internship in these final two weeks: those that are feeling like they're ready to go home, and people feel like they're going to be leaving with the job unfinished.

I'm sure we all know which one I am.

Note: This is an inebriated blog post.  Judge accordingly.

also: so was the last post. lolsandiego

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I've learned over time that I have a good "confessional" level of inebriated -- the kind where I am spouting off secrets if I don't evaluate them in my mind's eye as worth keeping a secret; i.e. if they're exclusively about myself, where they would not intrude on anyone's privacy and trust.

My roommate definitely knows about my history with depression as much as I have ranted about all my boy problems, whether they be close to here or close to home. 

I swirled the cup of whiskey in my hand and grunted, "Yeah, I just saw on Facebook that my ex is in Japan right now.  I dunno about that guy.  I'm glad though, because I was actually planning on going to Japan with him.  Now I'm glad that I'm not there, or else I wouldn't have ended up here.  It's amazing here."

It's almost always beautiful to meet such a stranger - where you can tell them every horrid secret that you've had cooped up, because you don't have to worry about it getting around town - the only person they would talk about it with is, well, you.  I'm now on the last stretch of my internship, and that has thrown in another factor to the uninhibited conversations: I don't need to care about what anyone thinks of me, because I won't see any of these people anymore in less than three weeks.  It's okay if I embarrass myself with those funny voices, quirks, and oddities - I feel very free to be myself in a variety of situations, and that's been lovely.  I understand the lack of inhibition that is frequently the connotation of summertime.

Tomorrow, a gorgeous dinner and a night out in the town with my roommate.

Until then, I'll cherish the little blessings that I've got to carry recently - that one boy taking time out of his morning for me, and the ceaselessly amazing times that I've been having in the lab.  Today, I sat at my desk thinking about how weird it's going to be to not see these lab benches anymore in three weeks.

Life is beautiful, life is beautiful!

Summer will end, and the leaves will turn again.

- Maroon 5, Fortune Teller

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"I feel like I understand you a lot more now.  I have to admit, I've always wondered, 'How is Christa so.. happy all the time?'  It's so genuine, yet you're somehow not a dumbass, and it's not even fake like those super annoying overbearingly happy people.  You're happy, and yet you're mature.  I've been so confused.  I get it a lot more now."

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My nights always start with a pitter-patter.

I'm immersed in the warmth of my couch, and there is not a drop of rain outside, but I still feel the pitter-patter.  I still feel the nostalgia of rainfall outside my window, no matter what the actual weather is outside.

I still feel the flashbacks.  As I drove home from the grocery store today, a piece of litter flew through the wind, and suddenly, I was on my way to Joseph's burial again, where blank pieces of paper were thrown into the wind.

Life feels fresh, but somewhat terribly sobering.

Next to the challenges I've faced in San Diego, my ghost in Merced would be a Greek god in comparison.

In one light, I'm aghast to realized that I only have less than three weeks left to celebrate my research and contribute to my lab.  In another light, I'm relieved to know that there is only three weeks left to all the terrible that I've simultaneously been facing.

But late night is a late night.

Time to sleep and awake to a new day.

tooooooooodles

So I cross my heart, and I hope to die
That I'll only stay with you one more night.

-Maroon 5, One More Night

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It took me back to December of 2011, back when a catfish sat across from me.

"Do you realize how much your eyes sparkle when you talk about your lab?  It's really cute."

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I am in the most fortunate position possible: at first thought, I actually couldn't remember all of the reasons that I mentally crashed last Tuesday.  It took a bit of sitting and pondering, "Man, what got me so messed up?"

I'm hoping that it's a nice reflection of the smooth sails that I've had since then, and not that I'm traumatically blocking it out, haha!

On that fateful Tuesday, I had a lot of personal and social issues going on culminating from this mile-a-minute summer, and on top of that, a guy hit my car and proceeded to blame it on me and wanted me to pay for his damages that he caused!  I called my best friend in Merced in search of comfort, but I ended the phone call bawling and yelling at him.  At that point, I threw up my hands and went, "Man, eff this, the world sucks!"

After that rough night, I woke up afresh in the morning and took on each challenge one at a time, rather than absorbing them all at one time as one spectacular wave of horror.  Everything became more feasible to deal with, and before I knew it, I'm now looking back and having trouble remembering exactly what was wrong.

"Ohhhh, that's what it was!  That's right.  That happened."

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Now, a quick-write on what is literally going on in my head.  Because it's so mundane that I really wanted to document it:

God.

I hate this sandwich.

It looks way better than it tastes.  My god.  I was so excited when I was making this sandwich.  Like damn, pepper jack cheese and roasted chicken breast?  I got this down. I got this.

But I think I hate this bread.  It's really gritty.  It has nuts baked into it, which sounded amazing in concept, but it tastes really strong and it's overwhelming my cheese and meat.  So every bite tastes like just bread.  And I get sad because I can see you, my cheese and my meat, but I cannot taste you, for this bread monster has trapped you in its bready bready wrath.  And oh, as I try to rescue you, the bread is too strong for me.  I cannot defeat this bread.  I am only but a girl.

:'(

things are sorting out, and life's pretty A-OK, once you think about it

more to come when i have time!

"I really don't know what to say."

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I can't believe how much bad luck I've recently fallen into.

I'm at the point where I would not put anything past the universe - if someone were to rob me of my laptop from this coffee shop right now, or if every bad memory in my life were to show up at my front door tomorrow, I would probably not blink an eye in surprise.  I would expect it at this point.  I don't know what game the universe is playing with me right now, but I am spent.

I am spent.  I am stressed, I am angry, I am sad, I am scared, but most of all, I am exhausted.

I've learned that it takes a different, terrifying breed of bad luck that makes me yell at my best friend in tears over the phone, ready and eager to just throw my hands up and give up.  I don't want to go home right now.  I also don't want to be here.  I don't want to be anywhere here right now.  Right now, I really just want to be back sitting on Morrell's apartment floor again, watching How I Met Your Mother and drinking root beer.  Right now, I really just want to sit in the backseat of Patrick's car as we drive up to the city, where he, my sister, and I would just laugh at all the stupid quotes that we could possibly recall.

I just don't want to do this right now.  I just don't want to deal with this right now.

I've just been really unlucky in the past few days.

My lab is my safe haven - there, everything is grace.  Everything is beautiful, science and knowledge.

The moment I leave work in the evening, the world proves to demonstrate a great capacity for Terrible.

It is taking a lot of effort to focus on the silver linings.  I am safe, and that is beautiful - but I am losing my faith.  No matter what I have been through, no matter how many players and liars and fools I have dealt with, nothing has ever shaken my firm resolution that there is an inherent good in people.  For the past year, I have always managed to retain the unwavering belief that as long as I am kind and I work hard, I will always manage to appreciate the good in the world.  I've managed to remind myself to always remember that no matter what, there is an unforgettable good that will always exist somewhere, no matter how slight or subtle.  For the past year, through thick and thin, that has been true.  I have experienced bad weeks, I have experienced bad months, I have experienced a roller coaster of fortune and fate, but I have always been able to hold onto that faith, even if only by the thinnest of strands.

This is the first time that I have truly started to lose that grip on good will and good faith.  I am about to lose my rose-colored glasses, and I am ready to give up on holding onto them.  

I just want out.  I just want out.

If I were one of high hopes, I would really wish that things would look up from here.

But right now, I'm too tired for that.

I've just had a lot of bad luck recently.

Sometimes I feel like I'm the only cab on the road.

- Train, Cab

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"I've never had my heart broken.  In that sense, you are much more of an adult than I am."

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I saw Train perform live and it was amazing.

Train songs have led me through a lot in life in the past year, but one special fact is that Train was a huge contribution to the end of the Old Life.

I glowed with joy as Pat Monahan sang the songs that I have spent months cheerily singing in my car, but when the lights went bright and he sang "Marry Me," that was a truly  special moment for me.

My sister was super sisterly and came with me to the concert, so I turned to her during "Marry Me," and told her, "This is the song that made me give up on Phuc!"

The lovely Mr. Monahan crooned, "Together can never be close enough for me, to feel like I am close enough with you.  You wear white and I'll wear out the words, 'I love you,' and, 'You're beautiful.'"

I continued, "I used to listen to this song on repeat while driving to Davis, just crying and thinking, 'Phuc doesn't feel this way about me.'"

She replied, aghast, "Now this song is super sad!"

For a long time, it's been a very sad song for me, which is inappropriate for something so pretty.  I grew up dreaming about marriage since I was fifteen, so to hear a song that struck such a chord with my dreams and values, only to also inspire the realization that I couldn't connect this song with the man I loved - that was a doozy.

That song is now full of history and triumph.  It illustrates both the hardships that I faced in the Old Life, and the love that is still yet to come.

Also: "OMG IT'S PAT MONAHAN, AH LUB PAT MONAHAN OMGGGGGG"