whitney dziurawiec

And of all the things I should  quit, like: -caffeine -eating pickles (they are high in sodium, did you know that?) -being late -NOT responding to texts -stuffing my face with food when my hunger monster rears its ugly head daily at 10 pm I am quitting something that I love, something that I have always wanted to do, because I simply don't have time. I'm not running a marathon anymore. :( I guess I should say, I'm not training  for a marathon right now . Mark my words, as long as I'm able to run, I will run a marathon. But I have this senior recital that's kind of important and this boy that will hopefully soak up a lot of my weekends (in the best way) and I just can't right now. And I'm sad and a little disappointed but mostly COMPLETELY RELIEVED. And in the discerning words of my roommate, "Yes, you are a quitter. But sometimes that's the wisest choice." So I'm being wise, I may gain a few pounds now that I won't be ru...

I'm baking. Bet you never thought you'd hear those words coming from my mouth, eh? EH?! The reason I'm baking, at midnight, in a snuggie, has nothing to do with the fact that I have any real reason to bake. But rather, because ever since my flu virus (which is one of the three things I'm actually allowed to use the word "sucks" in reference to at my house) I have been getting copious amounts of sleep. Anyone who knew me last semester, especially my roommate (that poor girl) knew me as the girl who never slept, or who fell asleep at 9 pm and woke up for the day at 3 am. That was my life. And now, I'm the opposite. I went to bed at 11:30 last night and woke up at 9:15 this morning. This is not okay. WHERE IS THE OLD WHITNEY?! Where is my irresponsibility? There is no fun, no spontaneity in 10 hours of sleep a night! This ends tonight, starting with baking. To give myself a reason to stay up. Probably because I'm going through a quarter-life cri...

I am one of the millions affected by the flu epidemic. But I survived. And I'm here to tell you my story. And actually, I won't tell you my story, because it's a rather pathetic tale that mostly involves either me sleeping, being curled into a ball on my bed, mustering up energy to walk up a flight of stairs, eating, coughing, sleeping, having delusional dreams, and sleeping. (I was so excited that I got less than 10 hours of sleep last night and didn't even need a nap.) I am just here to say thank goodness there is more to life than trying to eat all your Frosted Mini Wheats before they get soggy! There are greater challenges than trying to stay awake for more than four hours! Today was the first day I didn't wear pajamas for the majority of my day. It was magical. Basically, all the flu does is reduce you to an absolutely, embarrassingly, pitifully pathetic excuse for a human being. I felt like a house cat for over 50 hours straight. I was going insane. Bu...

I started this earlier today and am just finishing it now. So if you’re wondering why the “sun is beaming” at 11:30 pm at night, that’s why. The sun is beaming, the snow is melting, and I am waiting. Waiting for my coffee jitters to wear off, waiting for my toes to warm up (never happens), and…I’m waiting for my boyfriend to get here. Woah. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have a boyfriend. And I wish there were a more mature word for a 22 year-old woman than the prepubescent and immature connotations that go along with the term “boyfriend,” but I can’t think of any. So boyfriend it is. For those of you who aren’t on Facebook, or didn’t see it, or creep on my blog and have never even met me, his name is Jon. He’s cool. He’s wonderful. He loves Jesus and really follows Him. I’m lucky (Christians can’t say lucky. I’m blessed). I just thought I’d throw that out there. Yes I realize this came out of nowhere for most of you. If you want to hear the story, I would love to tell ...

My brothers are gone at a conference all week, and so I am left to puke at my parents' empty-nestiness. I have averted their awkward romantic antics by concocting an evil plan to become a spoiled only-child by the end of the week, throwing in manipulation and emotional bribery to get everything that I want in hopes of achieving my goal of having them wrapped around my finger by Saturday when my brothers get back and I once again return to my "black sheep" status, but with sweet memories of this spoiled only-child week to console me the next time I accidentally set off the fire alarm at midnight and my family glares at me with homicidal, judgmental eyes. (that was quite possibly the longest sentence I have ever written. I am too proud of it to worry about its grammatical correctness) So that's how my first week of 2013 is going to go.  Being the nostalgic, sentimental person that I am, I made it a point to reflect on what has happened in 2012, where I was ...