The End of Spring Semester

This morning, at 7:00 a.m., I released into cyberspace the last assignment of Spring semester.

And I felt very strange.

I have a hard time being "done" with things. Even in the short term.

{and this is the very, very short term since summer semester starts on Monday}

But it meant that I had absolutely nothing that I had to do today. And nothing that I have to do tomorrow. No reading, no forum posting, no research, no writing. In a short amount of time my life has been consumed by study.

And I've really liked it.

But now I'm not quite sure what to do with myself. Until Monday, that is.

I had anticipated feeling this way, so I scheduled a day in Eugene with Emily. That sounds selfish. Let me rephrase. I knew this weekend would be the first free one I've had since Christmas break, so I penciled a day trip in several weeks ago.

I think it's a problem not to feel comfortable in one's own skin unless you're in the act of doing what you believe defines you.

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I got up before Peter {I always do; he's a night owl and I'm becoming more and more of a morning person}, and submitted my final assignment. I showered and fed the cat as quietly as one can in a 400 square foot space. I walked out into sun and shockingly warm temperatures. But the sky was brooding. I knew the rain was on its way.

I drove downtown, toward gas {stop number one} and coffee {stop number two}. The coffee was too sweet but I sipped it anyway as I drove an almost-bare old highway the 45 miles that separates Corvallis from Eugene.

I feel a little taken aback and shaken up every time I see one of my sisters. The problem is that they've all grown up too fast. They've changed, they've matured, they've gotten married and had babies, they've fallen in love and are struggling {as I am} to figure out who they are. In my mind, I remember them most distinctly at the ages they were when I was about a freshman in college.

Emily is eight, she is all awkward arms and legs flailing around her body as she waltzes and pirouettes from room to room. She is a ballerina. Her hair curls wildly in different directions, spilling around her face and down her back. She giggles as she dances, a book clutched in one hand, a baby doll in the other. She is quiet and sweet. Secretly, I worry about her awkwardness. Will she grow into herself?

I need not have worried.

Emily opens the door to her apartment, she is tall - much taller than I. Her side-swept bangs graze eyes that are akin to infinite pools of hot chocolate. She is more graceful than ever - a long, leggy gazelle {with style}. She talks about finding her way in academia - her plans for championing the cause of hurting women - her boyfriend, her roommates, her future. I think about how much more mature she is than I at her age. Her smile and giggle come a little more reluctantly than when she was eight, but still, she is ablaze when she smiles.

We eat breakfast, we take a tour of the sorority house she has just joined, we purchase American-made goods at American Apparel, eat chocolate in the rain {it arrived in a fury}, play with lipstick at the cosmetic counter. And too soon, it's time to go.

I drop her off at her apartment, wondering if she knows how splendid she is. Really, truly splendid. I wonder if she knows how much joy and beauty my heart wishes her. All the love in the world.

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I'm enrolled in summer classes, but at basically half-time enrollment. Which means I'll have a lot of extra time on my hands. I have a list of things I'm going to do with that time - like read a list of books from scholars who are important in my field, and do more yoga, and spend more time just being still with my husband, and listening for the voice of the Creator. Posting on this blog is part of my list, along with really observing and thinking about the ways women interact with each other. Women are at the heart of my concern - how we support each other, or how we fail to. How we are sometimes each others best friends, and more often than not, each others fiercest opponents. I can't imagine behaving this way toward my sister. I could not, ever, oppose my sister. None of them.

Why is it so easy to injure our broader network of sisters? The sisters I have by nature of belonging to the human race?

I think it might have something to do with not being comfortable with ourselves. Not being enough.

I might be thinking/writing a lot about this over the summer. Or not. If I do, I hope it doesn't bore you too much.

{and more on Holly and Rebecca next week}

Hello

I'd like to post a complaint.

Here goes:

No one told me my metabolism would suddenly change once I approached 30.

No.one.ever.warned.me.about.this.

{shame on you people}

Rather abruptly I am realizing I should probably choose between the chocolate, the latte, OR the red wine. All three simply will not do.

Also, I cannot munch on m&m's throughout the day like the teenagers I spend 20% of my week with can.

{note to self: you are not 18}

I think this happened when I turned 15ish, too. But that was a long time ago and my memory's not so great.

I'll tell you what:

I am not looking forward to managing my thighs from here on out.

2 Things

Hi friends ...

No, I am not really back into the blogging swing but I am procrastinating finishing a paper and I was online, so my procrastination has turned into this post.

I saw the above graphic while I was clicking through my favorite blogs this afternoon and it struck me. I don't know where I'd heard or seen it before, but well over a year ago when I was in the midst of a particularly nasty job, I scribbled those words down on a post-it note and kept it on my computer. It was a reminder to myself that I wouldn't be a "failure" if I left the situation. And in fact, once I started to see that I was not needed, it would be best to leave.

And guess what? I did.

{that was thing #1, by the way}

Thing Number 2 is that I am no longer stressed out about being old. No reason to fear the inevitable. I'm focused on accepting it gracefully.

I have made a few resolutions for myself to follow over the next 10 years.

Here are some of them {in no particular order of importance}:

1. Grow out my hair for 10 years. I want mermaid hair! Do you know what that is? The teenagers talk about it. I had to ask one of them what in the heck they meant. It sounds quite lovely, actually. Ask your teenager to define.

2. Pare down my wardrobe to only the best and most desirable essentials. So far, this includes copious amounts of denim, short dresses to wear over the denim, wedge heels, western boots, lots of jewelry, and one tough-chick motorcycle jacket. Still on the hunt for the perfect handbag.

3. Drink lots of water.

4. Exercise only because it makes me happy. Not because I live in fear of my thighs.

5. Have fun.

Ciao for now! Or the next several weeks ... until it strikes my fancy to drop in here again.

P.S. Guess what? You know that picture of Audrey in my template? {over there, to the right} My 3 year-old nephew literally thinks that is me. He looks at it and says, "Aunt Sis!" Guess that tells you how often he actually sees me. I am a bad Aunt.

Getting Older

It's late and everyone is asleep.

(everyone being Peter and the cat)

I'm restless, and I think it has something to do with the fact that this time next week I'll have aged another year.

And I can feel it this time.

This year I've discovered physical proof that my body is aging.
I have cellulite, gray hair, a few wrinkles ... it hurts to move my body in certain ways, I feel stiff if I sit on the floor for too long.

So there you have it.

And every year since I turned 20 I wonder how I'm measuring up on the invisible growth chart looming next to me.

Should I already have kids by now?

Should I be done with school?

Should I own a home?

Should I, Should I, Should I.

I know the truth is that I am me. Unique. And there's no one {and no chart} that I need to be measuring myself against.

But I'm tempted to.

And then I tell my gremlin to knock it off and I move on.

There are some nice things about birthdays....

1. People have to be nice to you.

2. People give you things.

3. You can cheat on your sugar diet and no one will condemn you.

4. You can buy yourself a present and maybe not feel guilty.

5. You can drink a coke and have a coffee if you want.

6. You can watch movies all day if you want.

7. You can wear a tiara if you want.

{I want - someone pllleeeaassee get me a tiara}

You can think about how, really, you've been very, very blessed thus far and how many things you've learned along the way that are helping you become {or maybe just helping you see} who you've always been.

So, anyway, it's late and I'm contemplating these things.

And also, I'm rejoicing over the return of Lost on January 21st.

You should be, too.

Winter Break

You know what I like about being a student?
You can have things like Winter Break and Spring Vacation. Those terms don't mean a thing to you when you've got an office job.

It's Winter Break. Hooray.

It's been snowing all week in Corvallis {which I love}.

But it's making nasty weather for my planned trip home for Christmas {which I don't love}.

I am nearly done with all my Christmas shopping. Good for me.

I've resisted the peppermint white mocha {for the most part} and even been to the gym a couple of times.

I'm still trying to swear off sugar until after Hawaii in February but I anticipate that will be especially difficult over the next week.

A girl can dream, right?

Almost There

People.

I am one week away from being done with finals.

And then I might blog here until classes resume. January 12th.

I will probably only talk about my struggle to avoid the fatal peppermint white mocha and copious glasses of wine at holiday parties, which I have written off in attempt to banish the cellulite I see has taken up residence on my thighs.

I must be getting old because along with that, I have gray hair. A lot of gray hair. My husband said he could SEE IT WHILE HE WAS STANDING SEVERAL FEET AWAY FROM ME.

Hellloooo???

Is that something you should say to your wife?

December + January Plans:

*Annihilate cellulite

*Banish gray hair

Salud.

Couldn't Resist...