The Philosophy of Engagements

It is official. I've gotten there. That dreadful moment in every girl's life that is inevitable.

Everyone I know is getting engaged.

It started with my oldest brother. He got married last May. I was okay with that. He had been engaged FOREVER, so their marriage was sort of like "oh hey, nothing's changed".

Then it really began. My other brother's best friend got married. That made me say "HOLD THE PHONE". I've known this guy since I was 9. He was 11. He used to stay up all night playing nintendo with my brother. "No way he's old enough to get married," I thought to myself. Which was really my way of saying to the universe, "No way am I old enough to have someone I grew up with get married". But apparently I was, because he is now married and going through med school.

Then it started getting closer to home. My boyfriend's friend and neighbor proposed to his girlfriend. They are currently planning their wedding in the summer. But still...I was okay with that. They are a year older than me, both graduating in May and not close enough to me to freak out about.

This weekend my world has self-combusted. One of my closest college friends has been proposed to. I am not freaking out because I want to get married. But when did I get old enough for someone I know, someone my age, one of my closest friends, to get married?

I am also registering for my last semester of college next week, which just reiterates this feeling of being old.

In the words of a great country singer whose name escapes me at the moment: "I'm way to young to be feeling this damn old". For Pete's sake I just turned 21.

The Philosophy of Sisterhood

Have I ever mentioned I am in a sorority? Philosophy major in a sorority? Preposterous you say! Hold the phone. I am in a Catholic sorority. I used to go around saying that I was in a fake sorority, since we aren't panhellenic, and we aren't exactly focused on being thin and wearing pearls. But then once one of my KTB sisters disagreed with me. She said, "I think we are the real sorority, and they are the fake ones, because we actually have real sisterhood, based on love". Ever since then I have felt so blessed to be a part of this sisterhood. I did not grow up with any sisters, I have two older brothers instead. And while my high school class really became sisters to me, it is nice to have a new family of sisters, all who share the same beliefs and values rooted in our common Catholic faith.

This weekend I got to go away and spend the weekend on retreat with my beautiful sisters. I am not going to lie, I was dreading it. It was opening weekend for Aggie baseball, and I LOVE baseball. It was my brother's birthday, and this is the last birthday I would be in the same city as him. I went away wishing I would instead end up at Olsen Field watching the first pitch with my brother, instead of sitting on a hot bus with my sisters driving to somewhere where I would inevitably have NO signal.

I was right. About the no signal. Everything else I was wrong about. I had a wonderful weekend getting to know the girls in my sorority better and jus

t plain relaxing. The weather was a perfect 70 degrees and breezy. The retreat was located on a lake, and besides getting lost in the woods, the whole weekend was just exceptionally relaxing.

I have never felt so blessed to be a part of this sorority. I have been given so much by the Lord, and I hope someday I can give back. Every blessing you pour out, I'll turn back to praise.

the Philosophy of FREAKING OUT

It is February. The month of love right? NOPE. Try the month of the LSAT. It is officially T=minus 11 days (10 in 30 minutes) until my LSAT death. I am so excited to be done. My friends are excited that I will stop talking about it. Surprisingly, I am not freaking out about the test (misleading title...right? just wait). I WANT to take the test already. I want to get it over with. If I could take it tomorrow I would. I am no longer dreading it. I am actually looking forward to it ( I have lost my mind right? probably, but that's besides the point). I am not looking forward to the actual test, just getting it over with.

Nor am I freaking out about the test. I am freaking out about the guy who will inevitably sit by me who taps his pencil, makes incessently loud noises while bubbling in answers, breathes abnormally loudly, the air condition vent that will no doubt hum off and on, the watch that will of course stop and the room that will of course be 30 degrees. These are the things that will cause me to fail the LSAT, not the actual LSAT. Isn't that sad? I had so much potential (ha)...too bad it was ruined by my inability to function with noise.

I am also freaking out about sleeping the night before. I will be staying in a hotel. That sounds frivolous and stupid, but if you lived where I do you wouldn't be judging me. Last weekend someone pulled the fire-alarm at 1:30 am. We had to evacuate and get yelled at by cops for standing in the street. I went to bed around 3. That will NOT be happening the night before my test. I will instead be warm in a hotel, hopefully avoiding all alcoholic freshmen who surround me every weekend.

The LSAT has been all I have been thinking/talking/pretending to study for so long, I don't know if I'll be able to function without it. But I think...just maybe...somehow...I will survive.

The Philosophy of Cicero

Disclaimer: this post is not in actuality about the philosophy of Cicero, the Roman who had his head and hands chopped off. Nope, its about my fish. I actually ended up leaving him at my boyfriend's apartment for the break (his roommate or him were there for most of the break so someone would feed him, plus I don't feed him anyway, so what was the harm?). I didn't think he could handle a trip all the way up to Dallas (why do I sound like I am talking about my great-aunt, not my fish?)

I have been back three weeks. I just retrieved my fish. He's still alive, although Kyle's roommate probably would argue he's only partially alive. I think Kyle fed him too much. And now he's going to expect it. (Prediction...that fish will be dead in a week...sorry Cicero).

Now for a completely different topic, because I have run out of things to say about my frail fish (woohoo alliteration!!!)

Have I mentioned I live right behind all the bars? Cuz I do. It makes for some interesting nights. I am not one to go out to bars, mainly because I am not 21 quite yet, and it makes standing around being hit on by drunk guys even worse when you can't drown it out with a drink yourself. But I certainly see and hear a lot. The outfits themselves just make my night. Why any girl would think it is a good idea to wear something that wouldn't fit my 7 year old cousin in 35 degree weather is beyond me.

PS, I live on a street called church street...with all the churches...and the bars. The irony is lost on no one. But heck. this is the good ol' south. Passing out in the church parking lot just makes it easier to get your butt in the pew on Sunday and make good ol' mama proud (I have never passed out anywhere, let alone a church parking lot).

And now I think I shall go to sleep. I have the chords of an off tune rising country star to lull me to sleep while the pitching screams of drunks will fill my ears all night. Who couldn't sleep?