Spring Breakin'

Readers, I really need to start listening to the Boy when he tells me that I need to stop freaking out about something. Meeting his  family/friends went incredibly well and I really liked all of them. He said they liked me, too, which is really good.

We drove up on Saturday and had dinner with his parents and hung out with some of his childhood friends. On Sunday we visited his mom at work (she manages a very nice but very over-priced retail store) and went to see Act of Valor at one of those fancy new movie theatres that let you eat dinner and have alcohol. Can I just express to you what a genius idea this is? Because it is. It's right up there with Redbox, Netflix, and Sheetz (a new experience for me--it's a gas station with a full-service, made-to-order restaurant inside. It's not gourmet, but it's pretty damn good for a gas station).

Monday we headed in to DC where we met up with the Boy's college roommate, who is a legislative aid for some Congressman whose name escapes me at the moment. Congress was out, so he was able to take a few hours and give us a tour and we got to sit on the floor of the House! I realize that it's pretty nerdy how excited I got about that, but it's pretty cool. After the Capitol, we went to the Air and Space museum where I learned that I am not a natural at flying planes. And that the simulator workers are sexist. Just because I'm a woman doesn't mean I can't be the pilot! After that we had dinner and drinks with his frat brothers and I met his roommate's fiance. She was very nice, and as much as I like hanging out with the guys, it was nice to have another girl around. Tuesday we went to the International Spy Museum, which was awesome, and did the spy adventure, which was not awesome. After that we headed to the Natural History Museum and saw an exhibit on evolution and the dinosaurs and the Hope Diamond and other pretty, sparkly things. Unfortunately, we only had about an hour and a half there before they closed (we spent too much time in the gift shop of the Spy Museum. The Boy was enthralled.). Then we went to dinner again and went back to his friends' house where I lost horribly at Super Smash (as always). Wednesday we saw the Washington and Lincoln Memorials and the outside of the Whitehouse, and then drove back to his parents'. We lost at their regular Wednesday night trivia.

Thursday we went shopping because the Boy needed new dress clothes for the summer (he will be helping out on the project I am working on, and we need to wear business casual clothes to run subjects). After that, we went trap shooting, (I know what you're thinking, readers. Me? Guns? What? but it wasn't like that), and I did surprisingly well, considering it was my first time ever holding a gun. It was also surprisingly fun (at least, when I was hitting things). I was, once again, amazed and impressed by the Boy's athletic ability. It really is unfair how good he is at basically everything. His dad and I spent a few hours talking about how good he is at sports. It's just isn't fair. I know I'm gushing a bit, but the guy is incredibly athletic (and it really is effortless for him), and he's smarter than I am (and kind and humble enough to deny it every time I tell him so), and he's cute to boot. And has a great family. He's quite the catch. After that, we had some dinner and then his friends came over and we played cards until way too late (like 4 AM late).

Friday was a lazy day... we watched some Walking Dead and read a bit and then went to dinner with his dad and came back and watched some Modern Family, which is just hilarious. On Saturday, we packed up and headed back home.

Amazingly enough, we didn't fight, we aren't sick of each other, and really, it was nice to spend so much time together and not feel the need to chatter or be doing something constantly. We could just sit around and enjoy each others' company in silence while we were driving or reading or just relaxing. It wasn't awkward or uncomfortable at all. Maybe it's because we're still in that honeymoon phase, but I'm never able to spend that much time with someone without getting sick of them.

Bestie gets in on Friday, and I am terribly excited to see her. Expect another post about our shenanigans.

At the end of the month, I go home to throw my other friend a Bachelorette party, and I'm super excited. If it weren't for midterms, I think March might just be my favorite month.

Tequila. I need tequila.

I should not be updating. I should be midterming. Or reacting. Or packing. Or cleaning.

I'm stupid busy, readers. And I was getting things done like a boss, at least until I made a run to Taco Bell for dinner. Which I shouldn't have done, because I'm fairly certain that Taco Bell isn't actual food (although it is the second best Mexican I've had since I moved here--how depressing is that???), and because it killed my momentum, and it was $6 that I didn't need to spend, but whatever. It's done.

My shit has been resolved, which is good, because I don't know how much longer I could have kept that up. My friends' shit is in the process of getting resolved, which is good, because I don't know how much longer I could keep up that level of worry about them.

Tomorrow I leave for Spring Break with The Boy. We're going to his hometown. I'm meeting everyone. I've been operating at a low-level panic attack for the last 36 hours or so. I don't know what to wear, I don't know what to say, I don't know what to do, but I do know that I'm pretty sure this is the most nervous I've been about meeting anyone, ever. Since this is an exercise in introspection, let's unpack why, shall we?
1) I have bf's family PTSD from my college boyfriend. They hated me. It was supremely unpleasant.
2) Because of the extreme unpleasantness of being hated, I've decided I'm not opening that can of worms again. The next time I have such a contentious, toxic relationship (or even one half as bad), I'm bailing.
3) The thought that that could happen, for reals (even if it is unlikely and I'm being completely irrational and a total nutcase), is a troubling thought, because it puts an expiration date on our relationship. I don't want an expiration date. Recent events made me realize I'm way more attached than I thought I was.
4) Being attached is very scary business, indeed.
5) Meeting the family/friends is a big deal. So far, we've existed in this nice bubble of our mutual friends who have no frame of reference for our past selves or past relationships, but meeting people who have known him his whole life have all of these expectations about who/what is good for him, and they will be evaluating me from that mindset. Having Bestie come out in 2 weeks does the same thing. Taking us out of our protective bubble is scary. It makes things more real. It raises the stakes.
6) I'm not saying I want to marry him, because I am so not there. But I might be, someday. And this meeting the family thing, it seems like a step in that direction. And if I take him home with me in a couple of months, that's another step.
7) I will say, I think this is a good nervous. And I really like that he isn't nervous. He isn't worried about the disaster that I'm picturing. It's reassuring.
8) I am super excited for the weather. It's gonna be 80(!) on Wednesday.

In other news, I was starting to feel good about school until midterms hit this week. I just feel like there is so much. And stats class last semester basically shredded my confidence. I enjoy it more this semester, but I don't know that I'm actually doing very well at all. We shall see after I get my first assignment back. I will say that I have a total lady crush on my professor, though. She's like the most awesome person, ever. And I actually understand her when she speaks, which is nice. I need to finish my Developmental midterm and my reaction for Personality, both of which need to be done in 14 hours and 21 minutes. Oy.

In other, other, aforementioned news, Bestie is coming in 2 weeks. I die. Really. We will be seeing the Hunger Games and going to a Darty (day-drinking party) and engaging in general shenanigans. So excited.

The shit hath hitteth the fan. Ith. -->

So as recent events have unfolded (and again, I am not at liberty to discuss other peoples' shit on the internet, just know that it exists, and for the purposes of this post, I am not going to talk about my own shit in detail other than to complain), I have really come to understand the importance of developing and maintaining strong support systems. It's important to have people, both near and far, who will be there for you when the shit hits the fan. Because it will. It's important to be the kind of person that cultivates relationships with people you want to support and who will support you.

And it's important to have a SYSTEM, a NETWORK. Not a single support person. You can't support an entire roof with one beam. You need to have a few people who can help. You need to be willing to be vulnerable with multiple people, because one person can't take on all your shit. And you need to be part of a lot of people's support systems. You need to be the kind of person that people count on when things get hard, because it's only fair to return the favor. And it does make you appreciate your life more, in a schadenfreude-y kind of way. (And friends with shit--I am not rejoicing in your pain. Really, I'm not.)

And I just want to say that I appreciate the support systems that I have in my life, both here, and back home, and in other, random places. I appreciate that I can call you guys when things go wrong, and you'll talk me through it. You'll give me hugs and ice cream and make it better, and I would be in pretty bad shape if it wasn't for all of you.

That being said, I need to get some freaking sleep. And that sleep needs to not be interrupted by nightmares, because I can barely form a coherent sentence. And it took me approximately 6 hours to get through 2 articles and my reaction paper is truly terrible. Truly. I am sorry, advisor, for the giant, steaming pile of disappointment that this reaction paper is going to be. I also have not been eating much, because I have no appetite because I am unhappy and when I am unhappy I am not hungry at best and nauseous at worst, and when I can muster up the will to eat, everything tastes like sand. It's really throwing me off, this being starving and exhausted thing. And apparently, it's becoming obvious to the people around me that I am unhappy, considering like 6 people did a double take at my barely-any-makeup and seriously-fuckit hairstyle and the 4 pounds that I've lost in the last week and the fact that I didn't have the energy to wear real pants to school on Tuesday (yoga pants are acceptable attire for grad school, right?) and asked me what's wrong.

I'm trying to remember high school when I was this unhappy on a regular basis and how I did not die. I either need to become better at regulating my emotions or forcing my body to do my will and sleep and eat like a normal person.

Srsly, y'all, my brain is dying. It's not quite so dead that I have reached a level of denial about how terrible my work has been and how badly I need to do my damn hair and wear real pants, but it's getting there.

Random Musings

Note to self:
Do not miss class. When you miss class (even for a conference!) you end up stuck presenting on the DNA article, which you don't understand, even a little bit.

So I'm procrastinating reading that article, because really, who wants to read about epigenesis? Not me,  that's who. I'm just having trouble focusing in general. I have a million things I could focus on, and not all of them are boring or difficult. I could, for example, start trying to plan the bachelorette party, which would be fun. I like parties. I like planning. But, alas, I have the attention span of a tweaked-out toddler right now. Also, the concept of planning something from 2500 miles away does provide some degree of difficulty.

I am in the mood for adventuring, but I don't even know where to begin. And it's still cold. I feel like it is much easier to be adventurous when it is warm. And adventuring tends to cost money, which is something that grad students don't have in abundance.

I've noticed that I've been particularly touchy about people/things/comments/comics that are objectifying lately. I feel like that is probably something that I should look into more. I think the whole idea of seeing sex, and by extension, people, as commodities, is really upsetting to me. My Christian Friends might even call it a "Holy Discontent". I really need to sort out my thoughts about God/the Church/my Faith/how I feel about Eternity/etc., but that seems to be wrapped up in therapy, which takes time, energy, and money that I don't really have right now. I do know that in the short run it will take a lot of time, energy, and money, but in the long run fixing those and other issues will create more time, energy and (maybe) money, but I just don't think I'm ready to make that short-term investment yet. I'll get there eventually. I think. I usually come around to the things that are best for me after some time.

Trying to lose weight is such a pain. All the things I really like to eat are high-calorie and not very filling. Being mindful kinda blows, because then you have to hold yourself accountable to your higher-order goals, and there isn't much I like less than being accountable. And it originally flew off, but then I gained some of it back, and I'm trying to get back down again. And exercising is just not working out for me that well. I'm too tired to wake up early and do it, and I would totally do it in the afternoon/evening, but I'm too lazy to shower and do my hair/makeup again, so I don't. And the Dr.'s office has not called me back about a referral for a sleep study, because, let's face it--my sleeping is disordered somehow.

I want to see my friends back home. I want people who speak my language. I feel like I'm less homesick than I was when I first got here, but now it seems like the little things are starting to pile up a little bit. It's like when I went on the pill--I was on a bad one for me, and while it did eliminate my crazy moodswings, it lowered my baseline annoyance level. Everything that used to bother me before now still bothers me, but I am somehow less capable of letting it roll off my back. It's like having a scab that you can't stop picking at. It won't heal unless you leave it alone, but it seems like a lot of things here just pick at the scab. No one speaks my language, or at least, no one here is as fluent in my language as the people back home. I feel like a loser complaining about it though, because it isn't that bad. It really isn't. I generally like the people and stuff here, but some little things are just... annoying.

I was glad that the Giants won last night. I feel bad for Eli, everyone always says he's the lesser man, the lesser QB compared to his brother. And that's just sad. It must suck to be great, but not as great as your brother. But now he has more rings than Payton, so maybe people will leave him alone. I made mom's salsa, and everyone loved it. Big surprise. People always love her salsa.

I would really like to cook more, but I run into 2 main problems: I'm tired at the end of the day, and I feel like it really isn't worth the effort to cook for one. Eating the same thing for a week gets old. So I tend to cook more when I am cooking/eating with the Boy, but that's still only like twice a week. Le sigh. Oh well. I really should work now.

Mama Bear

I'm a Mama Bear. I will freaking take care of you, whether you want it or not. Ask Bestie. Ask the Boy. I can't NOT do something when I see someone I care about in pain, whether it's physical, emotional, or mental. It's compulsive. I have this overwhelming urge to MAKE IT BETTER (imagine the girl rage comic here, because I am too lazy to go find one). Unfortunately, there is almost never anything I can do. The fact that there is nothing I can do to MAKE IT BETTER does not decrease the compulsion. In fact, it makes it worse. Imagine dunking Monk in a giant cesspool--it doesn't make his neuroses any better, in fact, it makes them a bajilliondy times worse (my spell checker is telling me bajilliondy is not a word. I disagree, spell checker, I disagree).
So I recently saw all my peeps from undergrad (yes, I am slightly inebriated as I type this, and that is why I am using words like "peeps". I might have had more wine than I should have on a relatively empty stomach at the colloquium reception tonight...don't judge). And the thing is, they're a little bit... they need a Mama Bear. Or, at least, this Mama Bear thinks so. Because of the fact that they are all independent people and it's their decision whether or not to share their shit with the internet, I'm not going to say why I think they need a Mama Bear, or who they are, but they do. They need someone who will give them hugs and who will kick some ass and who will just sit there and be quiet or talk about life and make jokes and tell them how absolutely fantastic they are (because, fo' realsies, they are. They are like amazing and a half. And I don't think they read this blog, because like I said, I think like 3 people do, and they aren't them, but if they ever stumble across it, I am stating for the record that they are bomb.com. And I have a very low alcohol tolerance. But seriously, they are catches, and they have options, and I count myself lucky to have them in my life.) . They need someone who speaks their language. And I just want to be that person for them, because it doesn't seem like anyone is being that, or the people that are aren't doing it enough, or there is some sort of hole that I wish I could fill for them. There is some degree of support or something that they aren't getting, and I want more than anything to be that, but I can't, because I am 2,500 miles away. (On a more selfish sidenote, I really miss them, too, because I miss having someone who speaks MY language.) And on a more realistic sidenote, I can't be that awesome level of support that I think that they need all the time, even if I was there, because I am only human. The logical extrapolation I would take from my Evangelical upbringing is that they need God/Jesus, but I am still kinda upset with the whole Trinity at the moment (although I am grateful for the miracle of the weekend, and did acknowledge it out loud and now in print), and besides that, they don't believe in Him/Them at all, and I just feel like mentioning that is fighting a losing battle anyway, so I feel like there is something else that can be done... but I still don't know what.
And my mother, and the Boy, and my friends here, they tell me I just need to calm the eff down, because I can't do anything, besides the occasional call or email. I can't hold their hands, I can't fight their battles, I can't bandage their emotional wounds. And the amount of anxiety I have for them--the worry that I do about them, it's just hurting me, and it isn't making them feel any better, and besides that, they can't even see how worried I am about them because they might as well be on the moon. There isn't anything I can do, so the answer is just to... what? Care less? Have you met me? I mean, really. Caring less is not something that I do. Really, I would love to have that ability. It's one of my New Year's Resolutions, but right now, I just don't know how to do it. Something in me refuses to believe that there is nothing I can do to MAKE IT BETTER.
Anyway, this post makes little to no sense. It contains little to no actual introspection, because I already knew I was this way (I did learn that I make more typos when I've been drinking though. Yay for spell check! And Yay is a word, dammit!), but it's something I feel like I need to get out. I will say that after I write something down in the blog, I do worry about it slightly less than I do when I just talk it out with Mom or Bestie or the Boy or whomever. Cosmo does say that journaling is good for the feelings and helps you lose weight (I can't find the article. Sorry). Anyway, now that pretty much everyone has commented on the dark circles and the apparent stress, I'm hoping that sending this out into the ether or the Universe or God or whatever is going to help.

My Dad is better than your Dad

 Today is Last month was my Dad's birthday, and because he is high maintenance wonderful, (hmmm... I wonder where I get that from) I am making him a list of reasons why I love him, too.

1. Boomp-boomps, woozie-woozie, 10 minutes wrestling, and "Have you ever been tackled in the __________"--we goof(ed) around a lot. It brings laughter to our lives.
2. He taught me the value of a work ethic, and even though I curse it a lot, I really appreciate the fact that he taught me to always "Work as If..."
3. He loves Disney movies as much as I do and willing takes me on Dad/Daughter dates to see them any time a new one comes out. He and Mom also got me a paper lantern to show me the way home after I moved out (Tangled), bonus because it's solar powered, and we all know that the sun lives in my hometown.
4. He has a very forgiving nature. He's put up with a lot of things from people (including me and Brother), but taught me that we are to forgive, as Christ has forgiven us.
5. When we order a pizza, it comes with 8 slices, meaning everyone in the family gets 2 slices. He almost always eats Brother's second slice and then just shrugs while Brother gets irrationally angry.
6. He regularly eats ice cream for breakfast, and then just shrugs and says "I don't know what you're talking about" when Mom asks him if he ate ice cream for breakfast.
7. He insists on tasting our food "for poison", even though we all know he just wants my share of the cookies.
8. When we were out of town for Mom's Aunt and Uncle's 50th wedding anniversary, he forgot to get a map of the state from the car rental place. When asked about it he just replied with the longest, most drawn-out fffffuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuccccckkkkk that I have ever heard. Brother and I laughed hysterically for approximately 150 miles. And the rest of the weekend. And any time we talk about that trip, maps, rental cars, or cursing.
9. He taught me that even if it isn't popular, I need to know why I stand for the things that I stand for and that most importantly, I must not lose the courage of my convictions. "Worldview", anyone?
10. It's fairly common for him to drop whatever he is doing to go help a near-stranger move or fix something or do yardwork or whatever, with no expectation of repayment.
11. He's forgiving me for this being a month late because of the craziness with school and Christmas and stuff.
12. When I forgot my wallet (including ID) at the house when I left to fly back to my apartment after Thanksgiving, he ran out to meet Mom and then sprinted through the airport to bring it to me at the gate so I could make my flight back.
13. He came to my stuff. He goes to Brother's stuff. Even if he woke up at 2 AM and has been flying all day and is tired and cranky, he made it.
14. He tells me I'm beautiful, but he also ensures that I know that there is so much more to me than my looks, and that the other stuff is so much more important.
15. He made me this really awesome book for my 18th birthday that is a collection of pictures and memories and advice that is probably the single greatest labor of love that anyone has ever done for me.
16. Most people can't believe in God, or have trouble seeing him as a loving father because their fathers were such a disappointment. I have no such problems.
17. He taught me the value of education. He always says, "From the neck down, you're worth minimum wage. From the neck up, you're worth as much as you can get."
18. He taught me how important it is to intentionally make memories. We regularly do things with the express purpose of making a memory--I didn't realize how rare this was until I started trying to explain to other people what it is to intentionally make a memory.
19. He will dance with me.
20. He is honorable. Being a pilot means that we all have to trust that he doesn't have some sort of gambling problem or second family hidden somewhere, or some other nasty habit, but not only do people never accuse him of misconduct, none of us would give it a second thought if they did.
21. He regularly meets with a group of guys and just does life with them. He's teaching us the value of good friendships--both surrounding yourself with people you can depend on, and being someone that others can depend on.
22. Rev. Theodore Hesburgh said that "The most important thing a father can do for his children is to love their mother," and he has done an excellent job of loving her, for 23 years and counting.
23. Whenever we have a large gathering, you will not find him with the adults, gossiping or arguing about politics, you'll find him running around with the kids in the backyard.
24. He taught me that the first 10% of your money is God's, the second 10% is to be saved, and the rest is for you.
25. They say that little girls marry their fathers. There are far worse men that I could marry. Whenever a boy I am dating does something that reminds me of my father, my heart softens toward him a little bit.
26. We have the kind of family that other people want to be a part of--and we have people who come to our home and share in our love and laughter and that is because of the kind of people that Dad and Mom are--the kind of people that are generous in their love. The kind of people that will listen and tease and advise.
27. On my parents' first date, he wore camo shorts with a pink and blue striped shirt and took my mom to a place that only had terrible seafood and veggie pizza (she hates both). He made her laugh so much that she thought he must have thought that she was faking it. He has since stopped wearing mismatched clothes and taking her to bad restaurants, but he still makes her laugh so hard that she can't breathe.
28. He taught me never to quit. You work hard, you adjust, and you keep going.
29. He is the kind of man (person) that he wants Brother and me to be--honest, honorable, steadfast. He models these qualities, he doesn't just tell us what to do.
30. We're a little bit the same person. We laugh at the same things, we like the same decor, we think similarly, and we have the same annoying habits.
31. It is physically impossible to stay mad at him for long, because he does something stupid that just makes you die laughing, and it's really hard to be mad at someone you're laughing at.
32. Once, at a family friends' birthday party, some little boy he hadn't met before hurt himself. My dad got him some ice and made sure he was ok and told him to let him know what the doctor said. This little boy then went to the doctor and subsequently instructed his mother to track down my dad so he could tell him what the doctor said, and when she said "Oh, honey, he was just being nice. We don't really need to tell him," the little boy said, "No, not [my Dad], he wouldn't just say that. He really cares." He's the kind of person who really cares, and it's obvious to the people around him.
33. He teaches, everything from how to drive (at least, until he got fed up and I learned the rest from Bestie's dad), to how to make scrambled eggs (never stop moving!), to how to do fractions and make a budget.
34. He's a bigger nerd than I am.
35. He puts our clutter away, but then pulls out massive amounts of crap for some project and leaves that on the kitchen table for 4 days until he gets back from his trip. In the mean time, we can't find the stuff that he put away and he doesn't remember what he did with it. There is no logic or reasoning behind where he puts things, but they're never where they should be. We still can't find the plug for the griddle, and it's been months. This is actually one of his more annoying habits, but it's sweet and so quintessentially Dad that I couldn't leave it out.
36. He wants Brother and me to be passionate about the things that we do, because he knows that we're frigging lazy if we're not passionate. He teaches us to find the nuggets of awesome in the midst of the crap.
37. He has modeled the importance of serving with your spouse--doing something with your partner that makes the world a better place--even when that something isn't necessarily what you want to do. He goes and helps Mom with weddings after flying all day, and he serves in the nursery at church, even though he would rather play with older kids than babies who just sit there.
38. Mom's contribution to my care package was practical things like paperclips and an Office Depot giftcard and my favorite dessert. Dad's contribution was an inflatable sword and a Disney Princess card and Disney Princess ring pops.
39. When he's tired, he plays with his ears. Watching this as a little girl, I somehow decided that playing with his ears (not my own) was soothing. So he lets me bend and twist his ears. It's weird, I know, but we're weird people.
40. He taught me to look past the next 5 seconds and predict the consequences of my actions. He is always saying "Everyone will eventually sit down to a banquet of consequences." This "banquet" can be a lovely feast or a miserable "roast" and whichever it turns out to be is entirely within my control. Also, he points out potential pitfalls that I may be missing. "Redflag!!"
41. He could have left or told my mom to get an abortion when they were 21 and she got pregnant after 6 weeks of dating. Instead he married her and has been loving us ever since. He doesn't run.
42. He does not disparage others, even in jest. When Mom and I watch awards shows or whatever and mock clothes and hairstyles and stupid quotes, he just reminds us to be kind.
43. He is inclusive, even especially of those that most want to exclude.
44. When I got into my program, he did all sorts of research on it and the school's reputation. When he found out how prestigious the school was, he told everyone he knew that his daughter was going to this awesome program. He tells other people how proud he is of us all the time.
45. When I tell other people what kind of guy my dad is, they always say how lucky I am and how jealous they are. I'm so glad that I had this man to model life for me.

New Year's Resolutions

1. Lose 15 pounds by my friends' wedding (May 18th). I'm MOH, and I refuse to feel like I look chubby in the pictures (or, worse, actually be chubby). Plus, I'm creeping up towards the heaviest I've been and I don't like it. It is also probably good for me to exercise and eat better, considering how often people (ok, mostly the Boy and our mutual friend at school)say to me, "I can't believe the things you put in your body." I will be using this app to help me. It's amazing, it's free, and it is basically one of the best apps I've ever seen. If you're trying to lose weight, I highly recommend it. You put in your starting weight, your goal weight, and then it gives you different recommendations on calorie limits depending on how fast you want to lose it, you can scan the bar codes on your food, it has full restaurant menus, and it tracks your exercise and progress. It's brilliant.

2. Go to bed by midnight ~5 nights per week. This should help with the weight loss (getting enough sleep makes people eat less). Plus, getting enough sleep should make me healthier, happier, and less stressed overall.

3. Go/do/try at least 1 new thing per month. This month was Zumba with the bride from the aforementioned wedding. We burned 700 calories in an hour. I'm exhausted. My arms feel like they're going to fall off. I want at least one month to involve going to a city/state?/country? that I have never been to before. Considering I live in an entirely new area now, this should not be an issue, but you know how New Year's Resolutions go.

4. Better time management. I want to schedule work out time at least 3 days per week and finish my work by 8 PM every night. I'm going to use this app to track my time. I think my plan is to get up around 8, exercise for 30-60 minutes, come back, get ready, catch the 10 or 10:30 shuttle, start work by 11, and finish by 7 or 8. If I am going to do a group exercise class like zumba or yoga, I will go into school earlier and finish up for the day in time to go to the class. I will work/work out on the weekends as necessary.

5. Recognize when it is time to say "Fuckit" and actually say it. I really need to dial back the crazyeyes. It scares other people, it isn't good for me, it doesn't improve my performance, and frankly, I'm tired of being the craziest person in the class.

6. Read at least 1 fiction book per month. The roommate has me reading these books now, and the Boy (he needs a nickname, Bestie) is insisting that I read these books immediately so we can go see the movie. I'm mildly concerned about the rape scene. In general, I really hate reading/seeing people who are just cruel to one another, but rape/abuse scenes are especially hard to stomach. Anyway, I digress. I plan to read fiction books this year, because it's good for me to unwind and gives me something to look forward to.

Anyway, here is to a year full of love, laughter, growth, and joy. I'm going to get rid of some of the bad stuff and integrate more of the good stuff and hope for the best. I hope all of you make the best out of it, too.