I Am An Even Worse Blogging Failure...

...but at the moment, I have time on my hands.

As I type, it is 8:24 PM on a Sunday, the first of the second semester of my senior year. It is strange to think that in about four months, I will embark on an entirely new journey, one marked by more uncertainty and risk than any other venture I've undertaken. Marriage. Job. New. New. New.

Tyler and I arrived back on campus after a decidedly unrestful Christmas break chuck-full of Christmas gatherings (6), showers (in 5 different houses), joy, travel (to Jenna's house, to Kari's house, to Sioux Falls, to Whitewater, to L.A., back to Whitewater, back to Orange City), and incredibly unpleasant arguments partially due to the stress and strain of never having privacy and always being together.

But break is over, and the beginning of this last semester seems to be affording more relaxation than I can remember ever having in the recent months. Last semester was a whirlwind of papers, tests, Honors classes, and obligations. This semester I'm down to 12 credits (four of which are taken "pass/no pass"), in order to spend time with friends, plan a wedding, make room for two work-study positions, and find a place to live.

So as I sit here in the library, my laptop Internet non-functional, my back very unhappy with the squats I did yesterday, and homework completed...I am sad to say that I am bored to tears with having nothing to do for two hours.

Last night Tyler and I had a special date during which he made me ham and potato soup. His effort: valiant, his soup: tremendously salty. He had read the term "two teaspoons" as "two tablespoons". It was perfect otherwise, but the salt limited my consumption to about 1/3 a bowl. He also made some Italian bread. Yum.

I had a bowl of Easy Mac later. He was really getting down on himself about his "failure." Sometimes his propensity towards negativity weighs my heart down about 100 lbs. There is no need for the negativity, and all it does is make an unfortunate situation terrible. I hope that, as he matures, he will see the folly in exacerbating a situation to the point of sucking the joy out of everything. By doing this, he only weighs himself down and makes romantic moments desperate pity parties. I believe that he recognizes this, especially after we talked about it, but it's a hard habit to break.

After watching Slumdog Millionaire, which was a good movie, we discovered that Sam M., Sam G., Jason, John, Kristi, Audrey, Sarah K., Julia, Jenna, and Amanda M. were all going to have a snowball battle. We joined, but the efforts failed spectacularly as the snow was not packable. In lieu of this, we sojourned to the green to engage in a bit of snow tackle football, with me as gimpy, heart problemed all-time quarterback. It didn't go so bad, and I threw a couple of nice passes. Tyler also threw a nice snowball pass straight into my open eye as someone was snapping the ball to me, causing me to let out a choice word, and cry as my eyes tried to clear out the chemicals.

Poor Tyler. He just shouldn't throw things at me.

The evening ended nicely with snow slushies and Chai tea while talking about our favorite professors.

Yup, I'm going to miss college.