A Day Late

both a description of this post and an awesome song by Anberlin (who happens to be playing at Toads on June 1st) and pretty accurartely describes My EnTiRe ExiStENce!!

Anyhow....

So I'm at home. Sort of. And by 'home' I mean I'm splitting time between my grandmother's house, my mom's apartment, and my best friend's apartment where I will be living as soon as I start getting paid. It's complicated. But worry not, dear Readers, I 'spect that by the beginning of July I will be a full fledged and well paid personal trainer. Ching!

I thought about taking this time to reflect on my past four years. Or really even the last two as those are the most relevant. But that would be super long, and no specific story is jumping out at me right at this second.

Instead, let me start by saying that it's funny for me to be writing this post in my grandmother's house of all places. Of any of the relatives with whom I interact on a regular basis, she's the most conservative and the last person I would tell I was queer. (*tangent* this morning over coffee, she called herself queer intending the 'odd' meaning of the word, but I had a little chuckle) This is not to say she doesn't know. You see, this is where the story gets funny.

My best friend, from earlier, who I'm moving in with. She's more than just my best friend. She is my heterosexual life partner. We've been super tight since senior year of high school and I don't see that changing any time soon. Of all the people who came to graduation she was the one I was most happy to see. Unlike my yalie-version of her, I have never had any sexual attraction to her, and now it would just be beyond weird. But, sometimes I wonder if her prominence in my life will complicate my bothering to find a signficant romantic other of my own (she's been with her boyfriend for like...3 years or something ridiculous). But that is not the point of the story.

Once upon a time, I finally convinced her to come out to Jersey to hang with me instead of us roaming the city-which, granted, is more stimulating. So, she arrives and in some converation I am not party to, my mother insuates that she and I are in fact an item and so any and all lame adults should make themselves scarce. Now, my mother knows full well that we're not together (though I think this happened more recently than I originally thought). My suspicion is that she just wanted us to have our own space and not have P.O.S. all weekend, which I can appreciate.

However, this message has not been so clear through the lines of my extended family. Fast forward to graduation. I'm walking my friend back to the train station and she says "I'm pretty sure your grandmother still thinks we're together". Ah indeed, I say. Turns out, my grandmother had tried to really chat up my friend who she has only met once. I mean...it's sweet I guess, but man are they gonna be confused when I get around to bringing home an actual girlfriend. oh bother....

Hell Week with a Happy Ending

This week was crazy; easily the worst week of my semester. Right after Spring Break I had two papers due and a midterm. I pulled an all-nigher from Tuesday to Wednesday, and then another one from Wednesday to Thursday. But I survived. Surprisingly, I did not ask for an extension, and I did not hand in anything late. Granted, my papers weren't perfect, but they were good, or decent at least.

This week taught me a lesson of breathing myself through things. On Monday at around 4pm, after running errands all day and not having started my many assignments, I was freaking out. I don't want to be overly dramatic, but I really felt almost a sense of despair, and was worried about not finishing all that I had to do. But I realized that the assignments would still be there, regardless if I was freaking out or calm. And so I breathed deeply. At first I thought I only had two papers due this week. Then, as I went to my discussion section on Monday, I realized that I also had a midterm on Thursday--panic attack. And again, BREATHE DEEPLY, BREATHE, BREATHE, BREATHE. There were a series of events all throughout this week for which my first instinct was to panic, but I had to practice taking two steps back, and breathing. It's like that phrase "Lord, grant me patience...but hurry!" and then what happens is that you get really nerve-racking situations, and become patient by practicing patience. It's quite Aristotelian in its habit-forming character.

Anyway, I survived. And I just wanted to share that with you. I've surprised myself. And now, after three weeks, I will finally get to see my girlfriend again today. It's the best thing I could have asked for, my light at the end of the tunnel. She's my light.

And finally, for your hearing pleasure, a song that helped me stay calm this week. It just reminds, when I need to be reminded the most, how great life is.