Research Paper

Today's stress happens to be in part because of one of my history classes. We were supposed to turn in a proposal for a research project. The first time I went to see the professor over an idea I had, he said it was fine. Then the next day he complained about the topic to the rest of the class, not mentioning my name or anything, just complaining. Okay. So then I got worried that he wouldn't be fair grading it, because my experience has been that professors do not always grade as partially as they're supposed to. I wanted to do a queer reading of King Lear once. Professor was completely against it. I did it, and I got an okay grade. I should have found something better to talk about.
So, last week, talking with Kelly, I came up with another idea. Did a little research, tweaked the idea, and submitted it yesterday. Today, he sends me an email saying it's a great idea and then suggests a couple of other books to help with the research.
I guess I should be happy he's enthusiastic, but I'm not. All I can think of is that I basically let him dictate to me. I feel like I've been manipulated, even though I've been fully aware of it the entire time. Mostly, I wish he hadn't commented on it at all.

The Romantic Life

Last night, I was at a poetry reading and ran into my friend Mandy. While we were talking, she said "your life is so romantic!"
Huh?
That's not how I see my life at all. I mean, for the most part, I like my life. I feel like I'm doing important things and I'm, within reason, generally pretty happy. But I've never seen my life as romantic. It just kind of is. When I imagine a romantic life, I imagine that would mean being rich and famous and wealthy and talented. I wouldn't mind being some of those things, but right now, what I have is what everyone needs: purpose, support and freedom. And I'm really grateful.
Everything I have in my life is the result of hard work. Sometimes, I think that hard work isn't obvious to everyone around, because I don't think a lot about it and I don't really talk about it because that's considered a faux pas. I think sometimes everyone just sees my smiling face and don't realize that some days I'm actually miserable, but I smile and try to be cheerful because I don't want to bring my friends down. I'm stressed all the time, and I don't like it, but that's the price we pay when we're perusing something we believe in.
I don't usually think of my life as being inherently better than other's. There are some people in my life who I believe I am happier than, but not everyone. In fact, I would say that the majority of people in my life are at about the same level of happiness.
Maybe I should just be grateful someone near me thinks there's something admirable about me. Even if I kind of disagree.

Yuck

Blurgh. I'm sick today. I wish I could post some hilarious little bit about being sick and something odd happening, but it's been a quiet day. Mostly nappying and doing homework. I apologize for being boring.
I'll try to have something to say tomorrow.

I Will Tell About It

Like I mentioned earlier this week, there was a picnic for graduating honors seniors. It was mostly fine. I ran into Mikey, and he told me all about his plans to go to New York. I ran into Courtney, and she told me all about her plans to go to Japan. I told them I was still waiting. I increasingly hate the waiting. I want to tell them that I have a plan, and it involves things. Mikey and Courtney are gracious people; neither of them made me feel bad for not having anything definite, but this doesn't help me feel better.
I didn't know the vast majority of people there. There was a couple there, Lauren and Paul, and they had just gotten engaged last night. I don't know why, but it bothered me. Looking at her face, which still had childhood's freckles, and his face, unpocked. There was something too young about them. The only thing I could think about was Kristina's smart remark a few weeks back about getting married young and having a tiny ring. Their ring made me think of the rings children find in their cereal, the kind that little girls play with when they are playing princess. She picked the tomatoes off her sandwich and gave them to him.
I walked home. I slept. I had a strange dream that I've had before and has nothing to do with this. And then I realized what it was that was bothering me as I woke. Looking at them, I went back to May 1937, the Sharon Olds poems. I've always liked this poem. I've always thought that I understood the angst of knowing how deeply your parents hate each other. And I still do, but now I understand why when people my age say they are getting married, or do get married, why I think "No. You don't understand how bad this could be. Be smart. Don't do this."
But how could I tell people that? It's easy to dismiss me; after all, I've spent the last three years avoiding long-term relationships. I'm finally ready, emotionally-speaking, to try again, to really try again, with some I love, but I've discovered recently that there's no one that feels the same about me. And I could be bitter about that, but then I think of this poem. I think of books on hips, of marriage, of "we would never hurt anyone," of wrong men, of suffering, of hunger, and of paper dolls, and then finally I think "No. I'm choosing. I am choosing to take things slow. I'm choosing to be smart."

Squirrel!

You would think, based on the way some people act around here, they've never seen a squirrel before. I was eating out on the patio today. There were two tables in front of me, one with three boys and another with three girls. The three boys were watching a squirrel, who was wandering around them, playing with napkins and whatnot. When the squirrel managed to get inbetween the two tables, one of the girls threw food to it. And then another one of the girls threw food to it a second time. And then, because I clearly wasn't angry enough, a third girl came outside just to feed the squirrel.
I'm so disappointed by that kind of behavior around here. Animals are not meant to be fed human food. It's not good for them. (Hell, it's barely good for us. What makes someone think that highly altered chemicals are good for a mammal that is designed to subsist on naturally-occurring foods that are high in fat and carbohydrates?) Squirrels can't digest everything we can for a reason, and giving it food that it'll eat is not helping.
Also, those girls are messing up the environment even more than usual. Squirrels in the area are only becoming more dependent on humans for food.
Mostly, I just feel that if you're in college, you have no excuse to be that stupid. By now, someone should have told you that treating wild animals like that hurts the animal that you apparently are fawning over.

Leather Package

I was expecting a different package in the mail, which is I why I didn't expect this: a shiny, leather folder. The first thing I thought about when I saw it was Detective Goram, who always seems to be carrying around a leather folder on Law and Order: Criminal Intent. Do all great NYPD detectives carry one of these things? I could have sworn I spotted Detective Kate Beckett with one on Castle. All I need now is to get a badge and I'm finished with a Halloween costume.
Actually, it's a nice folder. In addition to being leather, it also has a stamp of Michigan State's famed Spartan helmet on it. It makes me feel twenty percent more adult just looking at it.
My third thought: wait, is this why the tuition is so damn much?

Picnic Flower

I complained last month about not having the sort of "last goodbye" events that you have in high school when you graduate. This morning, I got an email from the honors college about a picnic for upcoming graduates. So maybe I was wrong, maybe there are things going on.
I'm embarrassed to admit this, but I'm not sure if I want to go. Not because of the event itself, but because of the people. The people I really would like to hang out with aren't graduating seniors in the honors college, so they probably won't be around. And there are potentially people who are going to be there who I don't want to see. Not even people I hate, just people who I've recently fallen out of favor with. What's painful about those people is that I don't hate them, not a little bit, not at all, I really love them, but being around them just makes me sad because of circumstances.
I'm afraid, frankly, of going to this because I don't want to be an awkward wallflower at a picnic. I want to feel like I'm wanted there, at least by someone.
It is times like these where I think "I wish I had a boyfriend." The moment I think that, I always feel terrible. You're supposed to be with people because you love them and they love you, not because they will somehow magically fix problems for you. No one would appreciate feeling like the person they loved was with them because they were lonely, etc. They want to feel wanted for themselves and themselves alone. But at the same time, there are people in my life who always make me feel comfortable and safe and who I want at my side, and in more than just a platonic way. When I start dating again, if I start dating again, I want it to be for the right reasons, not the wrong ones.
Juicebox mentioned to me today that I should enjoy the free food. Maybe that's what I'll try to do Sunday.