Most people on the internet by now have read the hilarious (and true) post on Hyperbole and a Half about Being An Adult (if you haven’t, go do it now!)

And I have to say, right now, I kind of agree.

I’m attempting to juggle an online class, the impending doom of a five-day-a-week-four-weeks-total-summer-writing-class, three grad school applications, and maybe hopefully passing the CBEST oh and also organizing when I’ll volunteer next term and also working 20+ hours a week and being completely AD—-

DID THAT SNAIL JUST TRANSFORM AND FLY AWAY.

OH MY GOSH I NEED TO ANALYZE THIS.

CLEARLY SCIENCE HAS LIED TO US ALL THESE YEARS–CLEARLY MY HIGH SCHOOL BIOLOGY TEACHER HAD NO IDEA WHAT HE WAS TALKING ABOU–

Hey! I could look up more gifs!

I like gifs.

gifs gifsgifs gifs gifs

Oh. Right.

School. And Work. And organizing.
And grad school. And The Future.
And sentence fragments.

I have no attention span, and I don’t know what to do first when I can’t eliminate or check things off my list, just do a half-jot or a dot indicating that I tried to do something, I thought about getting it done, or I attempted to figure it all out.

I don’t know you guys, this stuff, this part of adulthood, this period-of-life-where-I’m-up-in-the-air-and-so-busy-I-can-hardly-breathe is really really not cool.

My house is located near the Urban growth boundary. I realize that this term is not generally used in most of the United States, and probably not really throughout the world. The urban growth boundary means that on one side of a road I generally drive down is endless suburbia, houses upon houses upon houses and street signs, sidewalks, elementary schools, cyclists, and the occaisional starbucks.

The other side of the road contains miles and miles of farmland.

This was not taken by my house, but is an adequate illustration of what the fields look like, minus the adorable miniature donkeys.

I love where my home is located. Even though the buses run irregularly and I live with my parents and there’s nothing to do after 7pm on a weeknight (besides roller-skating, but that doesn’t really count anyway*), there’s something to be said about driving less than five minutes and being surrounded by endless fields and the occasional old barn.

I’ve been learning a lot about boundaries in the last few years. Learning to set my own, and to break the ones around me. The boundary of how far I can walk in my new teva sandals, (and whether or not it’s worth the blisters to break it), the boundary of where I’m willing to travel by bus, the boundary of how far I’m willing to go to make a relationship work, and how setting boundaries with money affect my daily life.

Last week, I broke a boundary. I flew 679 miles to San Jose, California by myself, to visit my boyfriend. Not only did I fly (!!!) by myself (!!!!!!), but I went to visit my boyfriend (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!). I was pretty much knock-kneed and stressed my entire flight. Excited, nervous, afraid we’d crash and I’d end up on an island with Matthew Fox, I tried to ignore the sensation of my feet slowly freezing into bits (a side-effect of wearing flip-flops on the plane, where the air-condititioning is, I don’t know, directly on your feet) and nervously took photographs of my newly-painted turquoise fingernails as the pilot announced we were making our descent.

Of course, the vacation went off without a hitch. The visit was glorious, the sun was amazing, and I’m now completely discombobulated in Oregon, wishing there were more palm trees in my neighborhood’s vegetation.

So, I’m changing my (previously-set) boundary of Oregon. I’m moving my weekly boundaries to include graduate-school planning and trying to make myself work more this summer, instead of working less.

And while I still have yet to break the how-far-can-I-walk-in-these-shoes-before-I-die-of-blisters-boundary, I’m working on breaking the “stay forever in Oregon” and “be safe with my school choices” and “never take any risks” boundary. I’m not skydiving yet, but it’s a step.

And I’m so excited to see where it takes me.

*I say this because I cannot walk upright without falling over, let alone successfully attaching wheels to the balls of my feet and attempting motion, not out of any prejudice against Roller Derbies or the romance of roller disco.

Fun times this past weekend included taking my friend from Nebraska to Oregon Tidepools,

taking the same photo I take everywhere I go,

finding jeweled seashells,

being a tourist,

and standing in the mouth of an exposed sea-cave as the tide came in.

.

It’s so hard to return to normal life after such a fantastic weekend. I’m trying to hold onto the hope and fun between those blue seashells as I stumble through my last two weeks of this term.

This weekend I went to my very first National Park.

It was lovely. I’m from the Pacific Northwest, but I’d never visited Mt. Rainier before, and it was awesome to get away from the city and into the trees and snow and cold for a day.

L: iron oxide dyes a small streem blood-orange. R: The park used to have a hot spring and accompanying resort. The baths are still around, and just gorgeous.

I’m lucky this term because I’m getting spoiled with time off. After five weeks of working full time and experiencing bilateral wrist tendonitis for the first time, I’m finally getting some small sorts of vacations.

Yeah, I’m super cool.

This coming weekend I get to go to the coast with my whole family, and the promise of warm weather awaits. I’m sure the change from snow to freezing rain to warm sand will be a bit of a culture shock, but it IS the Pacific Ocean, it won’t be that warm!

Every so often we have to upload “keywords” into our facebook profile or myspace profile or tumblr or blog or whatever and our minds go blank.

Take some time this week to think about what defines you.

What makes you… you?

Not just the things you tell everyone. How do you tie your shoes? How do you wear your hair? How do you pay attention in class?

How does this seperate you from everyone as an individual?

Center yourself on this thought this week, and remember that unique, individual you is essential to this world.

I am… a fire tiger.
I am… a pokemon trainer.
I am… a college student.
I am… a lettering nerd.
I am… a college student who is putting herself through school.
I am… a girl who enjoys spending money.
I am… sometimes prim and proper.
I am… mostly goofy.
I am… an artist who draws dragons.
I am… in love.
I am… bad at paying attention in class.

Here’s another neat article about packing… but a bit more hardcore than mine!

Hello folks!

Let’s try this again.

Today I went to the gym and ran a little over 1/2 of a mile, and shaved 10 seconds off of my stationary bike time. I hurt all over and am still a little shaky, but I feel fantastic. It is hard to replicate the way your body feels and the induced high you get after you work out.

Recently, Saturday Jane posted a great debate between her many selves about excersize and working out, and her own experiences with it. This has made me reflect on my thoughts working out and what keeps me going during my sessions, and I’ve figured out what it is:

The Shower Afterwards.

Seriously. It’s the best part. I love the burn, and getting past my goals, and if I hadn’t been completely exhausted by the final push in my biking to beat my previous time, I’d have danced across the gym, regardless of any stares that might induce.

But the best part is when you can relax your weary muscles in a steady stream of hot water, and slough off the sweat and dirt and grime and stress that comes along with exersize and life.

It is the best, and I look forward to it during ever minute of every step of every lap I run every day. It’s a nice motivation. Not to mention the proud feeling afterwards, knowing I actually followed through with my goals.

My current goal is to get to the point where I can do my cycling in 4 minutes and thirty seconds (as of today, I’m six minutes and thirty seconds), and run an entire mile without bursting into tears, like I would in elementary-school PE.

What are your goals?

Welp, now it’s 2010. We’re in “the twenties” as those people like to call it, and it’s all sorts of awesome.

The beginning of 2010 marks a strange anniversary for me. 2009 was the first year ever I used a planner.

Ever.

I am generally organized, but in a vague sort of way. I know where things are located in the piles of things in my room, and I organize once every six months and then promptly abandon all organizing plans as my life turns to chaos once again. I never used a planner for high school (even though it was “mandatory”), didn’t use one for the first three years of college (even though I probably should have), and certainly never ever really felt like using one.

But times change, I discovered Kath Kidston, and I got a job where the schedule changes every week.

My planner for 2009 is worn, and kind of falling apart. It is filled with memories, like this:

January 16th, 2009: Basket full of kitties.

May 20th, 2009: Blending in with couches.

September 24th, 2009: tried on a furry hat.

One of my final entries:

December 29, 2009. Sneak attack Snow!

I am all ready for my new 2010 calendar. I’ve even done SUPER organized things like written down my measurements in the back, and made a little colour chart of the prismacolour markers that I own so I don’t buy repeats. This organized thing is really awesome, and I’d like to pass it on.

The best part about using a planner is picking one out. Here are a few to peruse:

a. City Planner. $22.
b. 2010 Weekly Planner. $25.
c. Bird art calendar. $16.
d. 2010 Mini Plaid Planner. $8.

I bet you can get organized this year! Don’t you think you can?