still swimmin'

Vowing to be a little more diligent with this.

Dad was here last weekend (MSU.) It's funny how here we identify weekends by who we played. Regardless, we won and it was so nice to have Dad here. He took me and Ellen and some friends to Barnaby's after the game and he took me to get my class ring Sunday, which we won't tell Mom apparently. I got a really pretty omicron jewel in mine— just like Dad's. I like the idea of keeping it family. I feel so well taken care of whenever the parents are here. For instance PJP filled up my gas tank, which is so nice.

I feel like everything I do these days, however, is in some attempt to prove to them I can take care of myself. They know I can and I will totally when the time is right, though, which is more than evident in the way they have gone about raising me and my sisters. I talk to them about once every two weeks, if that. I think my mom thinks it's weird if I call. She assumes something is wrong. My dad expected me to have moved in and assembled all that damn furniture in my room by myself. Is that weird to look back on? I am 22. I want to assume I am pretty independent. Maybe they just like babying me and Ellen when they can because it's so seldom. Like how Mom cleans my bathroom at home or puts my clothes in the dryer or makes sure there's plenty of coffee in the morning.

Then again come to think of it, she has never made my bed, cleaned my room, done my laundry or known what homework I have. Neither has Dad. Have they forever been preparing me for being on my own? Because now I think it's going to be a pretty easy transition now, no matter where I am. I still don't want to rely on their help with getting there— wherever "there" is. That is still an annoying question to deal with. What am I supposed to tell people when I don't know the answer myself? I need more time.

Another thing. I am slowly getting back into the swing of life here that I had forgotten since Spain. I think I kind of turned Spanish since being there— at least with their whole nonchalant tude. Nothing is a big deal anymore. Which is a great thing and kind of a bad thing, like when it comes to things like deadlines. It does me a lot of good to be stressed out and nervous some of the time I think it whips me back into shape. But it leaves me (and the ten other people with whom I live) in this perpetual state of sick, exhausted and surreal weird state.