I could really use some advice. Rarely do I have a problem with shit friends. I'm pretty selective with my friendships, if acquaintances don't become friends I drop them. As a result I'm close with my friends, value them and try to go the extra mile. It pisses me off when I don't get the same. I spent two months of summer hanging out with a girl I'll call Y every week. (More frequently then I see some older friends) I brought her to my club on Toronto Island, taught her how to cook stuff and we hung out with her friends and generally had fun. After she visited her bf in Cali for a week I haven't heard from her since aside for a quick phone call and a couple of fbook messages, just saying she was busy. So yeah its kind of the cranky bit of my general excitement about school, hot TAs, clubs, newspaper articles to write etc. I would let it go I think... but she has my favourite bronzer and its like the insult to injury. How would you solve this?
I fail... It's kind of hard to maintain this right now because of the way I feel when I come home from class. I feel tired, drained, frustrated, anxious and nervous. There's a lot riding on this year. It's my opportunity to make up for my screw-ups of first year and second year. On top of that I have the added stresses of paying off a ridiculous credit card debt, eating healthy and just making sure that I take good care of myself. I try to see my friends as regularly as possible and my family provides eternal comfort to me, but that doesn't take away from the fact that this is my make it or break it year.
My course-load is obscene but I'm excited to be in the process of wrapping it all up and getting out into the real world. I'm lifeguarding, working for my professor, trying to do pilates, yoga or swim every day and trying desperately hard not to get too bummed out about the weather. Most of September has been beautiful, which is certainly what we deserve after such a crummy summer but not today. Today is a hot chocolate and a good novel kind of day, not a 9:30 tutorial and a 2:30 lecture followed by a 7pm pilates class kind of day.
Just to add to my irritability, my dear friend (so I thought) who I spent most of June and July hanging out with is now too busy to even see me for coffee. I haven't seen her for two months and I now suspect that the reason for this is that she doesn't want to give me back the bronzer I lent her... People! It's enough to make you a miser.
Things will get better though. The sun will come out, the leaves will turn. I'll get to wear my chunky sweaters and knee high leather boots. It will be the season of soups and pies and stews. Thanksgiving is coming up in another couple of weeks. Followed by Halloween (inicidentally one of my least favourite holidays) a dreary month and a half, then the first snowfall, the hustle-bustle of Christmas shopping. A friendly family baking rivalry, Christmas decoration overkill and 4 or 5 Christmas cds on rotation. I can hardly wait.
Two days ago, a house finch smashed into our window. I yelled downstairs to my dad that this one was still alive so he came up and picked it up off our deck as it fluttered weakly. He cupped it in his hands then gave it to me since he had work to do but he didn't want it to die. "If you keep it in a warm dark place" (he meant my hands) "until it's ready to fly away, it'll probably live." I didn't really have anything pressing to do so I cupped my hands under his and he carefully slid his big hands out from underneath those teeny claws. I put one hand over it and I sat down on a deck chair holding this warm little scrap of life carefully in my hands, sheltering it from the world. I could feel it shivering and shaking, still in shock. I could feel its tiny beak against the tip of one of my fingers as it panted. I could feel its unbelievably soft little body producing an amazing amount of heat as I sat outside on that perfectly still morning while the sun shone and other birds sang and flitted through our garden. Finally, after a good ten minutes of this strange situation, the bird began to flutter and beat its wings wildly. Bemusedly, I opened my hands and watched it fly away, grateful that I got to hold that one little bird.
Incidentally, birds play a special role in my family. It is a love and a fascination that my father has always tried to share with us. He loves his little song birds, his thrushes, his downy woodpeckers and his hawks and ospreys and such. This is not the first time that I've saved a bird for him, nor will it be the last. I suspect that in imparting this love and admiration for his (excuse me) feathery friends, he has also imparted his deep respect for nature and his sense of stewardship towards the environment.