If I had a nickel for every time, I'd own the bank.

First of all, I don't know why I'd assume anyone would actually want to hear me rant about my typical little college life. But whatever, I'm doing it anyway.

Secondly, I go through this horrible little trend/cycle of getting my hopes up and then getting let down. See? Typical angsty teen crap...I apologize. I have this weird personality disorder (not really) where I desperately want to be wanted. I don't necessarily need love in return, I just need to have someone let me love them. Horrible, unhealthy, immature...I know. Save it; I've heard it before.

Because of this, I don't trust at all at first, and then I trust all at once. I let myself become charmed and open myself up for emotional injury. This has happened so many times it's ridiculous. I don't know how many times I've heard the phrase "I'm not like every other guy." Oh really? Because now I expect you not to be and have amazingly high standards for you, meaning you will disappoint me and end up being the typical guy. So thanks for that. Even though I already know this, I will still stick by you until you utterly shatter me for like, a day. Then I'll essentially go out and subconciously pick another guy to do the same thing to me. They make me like them, trust them, and then they let me down. When this cycle ends, finally, well obviously that's the end of the road, meaning hopefully this is where the ring (and commitment) comes in. Thank God. Really.

However, it's funny how after I've gone through this process a disgusting amount of times, I still feel all angsty and ripped in half every time it happens. Helllloooo, Earth to Taylor. Don't be so dumb. Thanks.

I just want this:

Is that so horribly horrible? Maybe. Whatever.

Peace & Blessings; Peace & Blessings.

Hi, my name is Taylor. Don't move my stuff.

So I've been at Dominican University for a week now, perfectly content in a single-meant-as-a-double room decorated with my crappy photography and fake flowers.  I have been so okay (understatement) with not having someone I don't know living uncomfortably close to me, touching (possibly stealing) my stuff, and being outright rude (ghetto?) for no reason.  You would think that after a week, I'd be home-free. Not so much. She moves in tomorrow night, while I'll be back home for Labor Day weekend. I swear if she touches my stuff, this will be taped to her desk:

Love, the innocent little white girl.