My Eleventh Post

I love spring! I could just go outside and people watch in this gorgeous weather for hours if I had the time. I like to people watch... especially if I'm close enough to do a little eavesdropping as well. I hear the most random and crazy things while listening to complete strangers. It's just a brief glimpse into the complexities of the life of another human being.

You know what I’ve realized? In high school, I never really talked about my friends behind their backs. Now, I'm constantly talking to my friends about our other friends when they're not around. This especially happens with H and C. Every time I'm alone with one of them, we inevitably talk about the other one. I've been trying to figure out why this is.

I think in high school most of us were somewhat insecure with ourselves and our place in the social sphere of that world. When we finally became comfortable enough to identify each other as friends, we wanted to keep those relationships as a safe haven against the numerous other unknowns of social relationships in high school. So we weren't catty-- if we were angry with a friend, we made it pretty clear, and we usually resolved the problem before the day was over.

But in college, a lot of our friendships develop because of circumstances: we live together, we work together, we have a class together. And there isn't time to develop a truly strong bond because the circumstances that put two people together change too quickly. These are those ambiguous friendships that we're never sure about. Because the circumstances demanded it, we became friends. There is no safe haven. So we become defensive and withdraw from committing ourselves to a situation in which we can get hurt. And our frustration and curiosity leads us to ask for others' opinions. So we talk about each other and try to analyze exactly how we fit together. If only I could just let go and accept people and give them the chance to accept me. If only, if only.

My Tenth Post

Thursdays are usually good days, except for one thing: they are almost without exception followed by Fridays. Fridays suck. I know some people enjoy them, because it means only one more day until the weekend. I loath them. They make my week miserable. They're like the Trojan horse in my week. They arrive each week shining with the promise of a relaxing weekend, and then, out of no where, all these problems surface which eat away at my weekend until there is nothing left! And the worst part is, I never learn! Every week I let myself believe that I just have to make it until Friday, and then I'm home free. And every week, Friday finds another way to catch me off guard, knock me over, and kick me while I'm down. Every week! You'd think I'd be ready for it, but I never seem to expect it. And that is why Fridays suck.

My Ninth Post

I made cookies today-- a whole batch. They turned out well, which was a big relief, since my chocolate chip cookies are rather finicky. Now I have to figure out what to do with them.

I also watched A Beautiful Mind today. It made me think about my life-- I will never be considered for the Nobel Prize. But I’ve come to terms with that; I'm sure I’ll have other accomplishments to show for my life. The problem with accomplishments is that they expire too soon. All of the hard work I did in high school is completely meaningless now. Who cares what I scored on my ACT or what my GPA was? Things that I did when I was 17 have no significance in my world now. I wish I could hang onto those things for just a little while longer. But, I guess it's better this way. Now I have to work hard in what I'm doing right now-- to try to achieve bigger and better things. Maybe I wouldn't be motivated to work for those things if my ego continued to be placated by my past accomplishments. Despite what I may pretend, I do a lot of things to receive recognition from others. That’s not the only reason I do things, but it certainly is a contributing factor. So I was right in saying that my ego motivates me. It’s constantly screaming for some proof that I’m superior to others in some way. And lately, it hasn’t been getting much proof. Oh well, just more motivation to do better.

I like the titles of my posts-- that I define each post as mine. I especially like the possessive quality of ‘my’ because it helps to remind me that I’m not writing for anyone else. This belongs to me, and only me. It's mine.

My Eighth Post

I have a problem with scheduling my time. For example, I estimate it will take me 5 hours to do all the reading I have for one week. I then decide that I can do all of that on Thursday afternoon. In my spare time throughout the week, I do things I want to do (cook, watch TV, surf around online, etc.) Then on Thursday morning, I enjoy sleeping in, taking my time to eat breakfast and get ready. I'm all set to study about noon. I pull out my books, and work for about 2 hours. Then I realize that I have to go to work at 3. So I only get about 1/2 of my reading done for the week. This is a bad way to manage my time, I know. But I have no current plans to change my ways. Isn't that sad?

My Seventh Post

Valentine's Day, 2006.

Oh dear. I wish I had something to do today... anything to do. I don't have class, or work, or any commitments at all today. So it makes me feel like doing something for Valentine's Day. Maybe I will make cookies.

I called Mom this morning... she was worried about my housing payment or something. Anyway, it was good to talk to her even if she tends to do most of the talking. I don't really mind that, because I rarely have anything interesting to say on the phone.

Anyway. I'm going to go find something to do. But more likely, I'm going to go be lazy some more.

My Sixth Post

Sunday. Again. This was a good Sunday, though (at least so far). I went to church, got there 10 minutes early (with C-- the Bishop feigned shock to see her there so early). C was nauseous, and I ended up walking her home a little before the end of Sacrament meeting. Then I had a choice. I had a legitimate excuse for not going back to church-- I was worried about C and wanted to make sure she wasn't alone if she got really sick. But on the other hand, C was just going to go to sleep and would in all likelihood be fine. So I went back to church (after changing out of my heels-- I wasn't about to make that walk again with those shoes on). I was just in time for Relief Society-- it was a decent lesson. I sat by some of my FHE sisters in Sunday School-- we weren't the most reverent, but we did listen to/enjoy the lesson. So, good day.

My mom and my sister, M, sent me packages this week. M sent me her South Pacific DVD that she decided she didn’t want. Also, she’s letting me borrow the second season of Scrubs. I told my mom she needed to send me a Valentine’s Day Care package, so she sent me a box filled with candy, rice crispy treats, and (randomly) nylons. I immediately put the candy out for my roommates to enjoy—I certainly don’t need it. And I wore the nylons to church today.

I hate the word pantyhose. I hate, hate, hate it.

Oh! I saw Aida with H yesterday. So good! I forgot how much I miss being involved with shows. I really miss those good old set building days from high school. I miss the energy that exists backstage during a production. I felt an urgent need to eat sugar cubes (a high school tradition for the opening night of a show—-eat as many sugar cubes as you can handle and convince those who don’t want to eat them that it's bad luck not to) I was almost giggling at the beginning of the show, imagining what the cast was doing backstage—-H thought I was crazy and kept giving me strange looks.

Going to bed early and waking up at a reasonably hour is a good thing. It’s really helped me enjoy this week—-and get homework done! Yay!

My Fifth Post

Today has been an awesome day. I attribute its awesomeness to me going to bed last night. I was going to stay up and watched Alias, but H came in after about 15 minutes to study at the table. Grrr. We've had this conversation before. She feels the need to study at the table because she falls asleep when she's in her bedroom. Fine, but she tends to make people feel weird when they're watching TV and she's reading the scriptures. So instead of feeling awkward, I gave in and went to bed. Before midnight! And then I woke up in enough time to take a shower and actually get read for work. And I felt pretty because I was wearing a skirt. And I felt awesome becasue I had a stimulating coversation with my supervisor. And I just felt great in general. Then I came home. Things dropped off a little bit, because I started watching TV with one of my roommates. I was supposed to do homework/reading today. But I haven't as of yet. I'm going to a birthday party for a former roommate tonight. I'm actually excited. But that means I should get some homework done now before I have to go. Yay for awesome days. It makes me feel like I'm not as scewed up as I sometimes think I am.

My Fourth Post

Today is Monday, and I'm screwed. Remember those two essays I had to write? Well, I didn't do one of them. The plan was to do it over the weekend and then turning it in for reduced credit. But I didn't end up doing it. Stupid me. Now I can't miss anything in that class. I might not even be able to get an A anymore. So much for that. But, I won't give up. Not I, I am willing to go the distance. Or at least I'm willing to try. It upsets me.

Yesterday was Sunday again. I felt an overwhelming sense of unhappiness and dissatisfaction with my life. I don't know where that's coming from, really. I've evaluated all of the aspects of my life, and it's really not that bad. In fact, it's good. Yet, I feel slightly depressed about life. I'm going to blame H. Maybe I've been spending too much time around her. She is never satisfied with life. It seems that she's constantly upset about something, and trying to let me know exactly how sad her life is. You know, I don't mind if she wants to express her feelings and thoughts to me. I'm okay with that. I don't want her to bottle up all her woes and have an enormous case of self-pity. She's allowed to bring things up. But I wish she would express them more directly. For example, she might want to talk about how her past boyfriend treated her badly. Okay, fine, we can talk about that. But a lot of the time, she just wants to talk so she can dwell on bad experiences. That's not going to help her, and it's going to drive me nuts until I just don't want to talk with her anymore. So maybe I was lying when I said I wanted her to express herself. I don't know. I wish I were a better friend.

Last night, we were doing some homework together, and I was, as previously explained, in a rather despondent mood. We look at the first problem, and she says: "I don't know how to do this. (a few minutes pass…) I really don't know what to do. (another minute…) Do you know what to do? (...) What are you doing?" I just wanted to scream at her! During this whole conversation, I was flipping through the book trying to find some hint of how to solve the problem, and I was finding nothing. Naturally, this was frustrating to me. Put that together with my bad attitude, and the fact that I didn't want to be doing homework. I was inexplicably pissed at H. I'm sorry, dear. I'm trying to be better, but it takes a long time to change.

I had breakfast with A, T, J and B last Saturday. M decided not to come. B thinks it was a good decision, and I think I agree. T is now engaged. Funny, because she was the last one any of us though would get married. J was as J-like as ever. She couldn’t stop talking about all the boys she's dating. She even told us that she's not accepting first dates this month. Return customers only, I guess. It was a good experience, I guess. I wish I could just love those girls without holding back, but I really can't think of them without thinking about what we put each other through.

Why am I not dating? I have even been putting some extra effort into putting myself "out there," but no takers as of yet. Maybe it's just as well. I doubt I could handle the time and emotional requirements.

My Third Post

I was stupid last night. I stayed up until 3am talking to my roommates for no good reason (other than not wanting to go to sleep). I knew I had to work this morning, so I set my alarm and finally went to sleep. I woke up ten minutes after I was supposed to be at work! I may have set the alarm, but I didn’t actually turn it on! I jumped out of bed, and threw off my clothes while digging in my closet for my black pants and some socks. I barely even had a shirt on as I ran out the front door. What a way to start a busy day. Now I need to write two essays based on a lot of reading that I never actually did. Let’s hope I can BS it a little without it becoming obvious. I really have a lot of work to do, so I’d better get to it.