Today I am thankful for:

1. Sunscreen. As I was applying my spf lotion to my arms and neck this morning, I thought about how neat it is that I won't have catcher's mitt face when I'm 40.

2. Sunshine: It's a nice change from all the storms

3. Newfound resolve: After many months of "having a good cry" once in a while, I'm finally able to get mad and get strong about some problems that have been nagging me.

4. Spring slowdown--teachers are getting tired, and the workloads are waning. Lots of time to stay ahead

Great.

"Raising awareness" is getting to sound even stupider to me. 'Seems like so few of the people who become aware care about the cause as much as the people raising awareness. So, if you're going to raise awareness, why do it with quiet little pamphlets? I'm not suggesting anything destructive, just something a tad noisier. It's the age of compromise. Nothing changes.

Reality shows:

If I ever went on a reality show, I would have only one goal: To look straight at the camera and utter the phrase: "I'm just here to make friends."

Something I never do

"Is there anything I can do for you?" Jake asked via AIM last night when I told him how frazzled I was about the upcoming week.

My usual answer: "Nah, thanks."

My answer last night: "I might want to talk a lot more than usual this week. Sorry if it's a lot."

It's pointless to ask why it's so hard for me to ask for help, because it's just part of me. Even when I was a kid fretting over fractions and paltry reading assignments, I didn't want any guidance. I knew I could get through it.

Either my problems are getting bigger or I'm a lot less tough than I was when I was 6-16. No matter how many times I argue with myself about it... no matter how many times I prove myself wrong, at the end of the day I always feel like I'm weak if I have to lean on someone. I've all but given up overcoming this feeling. It's a good thing Jake can read me so well. I hardly ever have to actually ask. Even from miles away, he can read me.

It's hard to write about a person who gives me so much support. It's hard even though I smile uncontrollably every time I listen to his "just because" voice mails. It's hard even though he tells me all the time that he's proud of who I am and what I do. It's hard even though, when we're alone, I know I can break down on the ground crying about nothing and I'll still be a strong person in his eyes. What makes it hardest is that he understands this fault of mine and accepts it with all his heart.

Pride, pride, pride. I'll never overcome it completely. But still, thank you.

College is funny, part II

I love this more than bagels and garden vegetable cream cheese:

That moment in a classroom when everyone... everyone is prepared, and there's one person in the back who has no clue what's going on. What happened? The professor sent out an email yesterday afternoon with a reminder or a request to print something out or bring it to class, read an extra few pages of the literature, or do a worksheet.

And what's the excuse? It's always in that deliciously self-righteous tone: "Well... I don't check my email every day. Sorry."

That's like working in an office and never answering your phone or checking your emails. It's part of the job, and you have to do it. You have to make it a habit. Students today who don't check their email... I don't understand it. We're plugged constantly into every other type of technology--texting in class, surfing facebook in class (AKA "taking notes"), talking on the phone between classes... so why is it so hard to check your email a few times a day?

I know I'm kind of a smartass... but really, it boggles the mind.

I also wonder about professors. After they earn the title "doctor," does some kind of fluid release in the body that sends a very specific signal to the brain? The signal is "It's ok to wear a beret now" and about 75% of them seem to heed it, even in the summer. I'm not complaining. They all look rather dashing in their long philosopher beards and their muffiny hats.

Traditiooooooooon, tradition!

In the usual Cajungal fashion of overthinking things, my thoughts turn to tradition this warm, bright afternoon.

I think that traditions are nice. They give me a warm feeling--like Baptisms, getting together at Christmas, and seeing something blue on the bride. But when it comes to me, I never want to be the one people look to to hold up a tradition.

I have so many ideas about how I want to do things in the future---things that I won't be doing for a LONG time, but still... I get so inspired by all of my ideas. I think I could make an event memorable without falling back on what's been done over and over again. And then it would be all mine, all from me. If someone wanted to continue it on after I died, fine. If not, that would be fine too.

It seems sometimes that traditions are too much about 'living for the comfort of others' (I heard someone use that phrase a month or two back, and it's been sticking to me. I can't shake it!). Selflessness is nice. Doing for others is nice. But we all have one life, and I think that the people who love us the most would be able to understand that.

Anyway, these are just a bunch of thoughts I'm trying to piece together. I'm constantly stuck between wanting other people's happiness and wanting to give into the little qualities about myself that I hide or play down because I don't want to be a disappointment. I think that this is something many people can relate to. In the end, I think, I am me and I'm going to have to listen to myself.

Tabloid blues

I love grocery shopping. For some reason, my thoughts are always really clear when I'm there getting what we need for the house. But there's one part of the experience that I hate: the barrage of tabloids at the checkout line. It's hard not to look at them, because they surround me.

I wonder what celebrities read when they're waiting to buy groceries. I imagine tabloid and celebrity magazines are pretty ho-hum to the people in them. The gossip and factoids have to be a lot less interesting. So do they just stare at the gum?

Back after no demand at all

I've been sick. Sorry, my 4-6 readers.

Anyway, Mardi Gras had ups and downs. The significant up was Xanadu. Even though my friend who was supposed to go with me had Bronchitis and had to cancel at the last minute, I went with my boyfriend anyway. This still has me feeling guilty. There was nothing I could have done, but she was so disappointed. If that was the wrong thing to do, I definitely paid for it, because I was bedridden for all the parades. I'm just grateful I didn't have to miss much school. I'm feeling bogged down with work already.

Something good happened today. I've been feeling guilty for another reason lately: It seems like I never really get to help others. It's not as if I never try. I've attempted to volunteer for a few things in the past year, but they always butt heads with my school or work schedule. It's hard to be philanthropic when every bone in your body tells me to take care of me at this point in my life. But this afternoon presented me with an opportunity to do something small yet satisfying. That will hopefully last me til the summer. Since I left the Catholic ranks, I've become aversed to too much guilt all at once.