Marianne expressed curiosity about my religion after the last entry, so I figure why not talk about it! And also, I would love to hear about everyone else’s religion too, so don’t hold back. (Religion is a touchy subject, so I don’t usually talk about it, but ya’ll are civil people so it’s all good.)

Technically speaking I’m not religious since I don’t belong to any organization of worship. I adore religion though. I went to a Jesuit university by choice because I would love to be a part of the Catholic church. One of my good friends (and freshman/sophomore years roommate) used to take me along when she went to evening mass and I thought it was absurdly beautiful. Granted, we had great priests who gave engaging, student-relevant homilies and we had an emotion-evoking choir, so it wasn’t hard to be interested. And how cute is it that part of church is dedicated to shaking hands of people around you and wishing them peace?

But I can’t bring myself to say the Creed, so I never converted. (But I did seriously consider it. I also looked into how to become a nun for a bit.) I don’t believe that Jesus was any more the son of God than any of us are or that the scripture could ever be fulfilled because I don’t think it’s literal. Jesus was a person who lived and reformed society and epitomizes ideas I believe in, but he wasn’t mystical. Scripture is a collection of stories that are meant to instruct people, but they’re not literal. And as much as I wanted to be a part of the church and agree with the idea of forming a church based on Jesus’s words, the Catholic Church is not my ideal church. I do respect it though, so I couldn’t join without fully agreeing, you know?

If you didn’t gather, I wasn’t raised in any religion. My parents were both variations of Christians, but I never went to a mass until I got old enough to go by myself. I basically believe in all religions insofar as they want people to be good, but I can’t believe in the idolatry and symbolisms that they all choose. My roommate told me I’m a Buddhist, but really I’m not anything. To me, religion is something to read about and study only because it applies to yourself and making yourself a better person. Which is something that I am all about!

I got a tattoo last night, my first (and likely only) one ever. I’ve known what I wanted for a really long time, but I’ve never been selfish enough to force someone to go with me and watch me get it. Last night I did though, haha. I’d been drinking before I got it, but I think that’s a prerequisite to cope with the pain. And it was painful, but not unbearable. Some of the time I barely felt anything more than a scratch, but then for certain letters (nearer the p) I held my breath every time he drew a line with the needle because the pain was deeper. And now forever there will be “peccavi” curved along my right side rib. It means “I have sinned” in Latin, and I would love to explain why that’s significant to me, but it would take ages. I’d have to explain why I even wanted a tattoo, you’d have to read Franny and Zooey, I’d have to explain my feelings towards religion (despite not participating in any,) I’d have to explain a couple life stories, I’d have to shamefully explain just how huge my ego can be, et cetera. It’s not really important why I have it, to anyone else. Although it could potentially be awkward if I’m with a boy and he gets weirded out by the fact that my body is proclaiming sin as we’re about to get it on. Good thing I’m celibate.

I’ve been way too busy with this student teaching business. My roommate commented that it’s like a full time job and I cried in agreement. I’m getting the hang of it and learning time management 22 years too far into my life, but oh what I would do for a blissful day of nothing…

That’ll never happen though because even on the weekends I have a million friends to respond to. My phone buzzes every other second with another Facebook event invite and I want to go to all of them. (I don’t get why March is party month. In other words, this isn’t meant to be like, “look at how popular I am.” Most weekends I scramble to find a friend to hang out with me for five minutes, which is why this month is so very confusing.) And then there are all those little things that you never realize you need until there’s no time for them. Like a haircut or things to wear to hang out with my sudden, random dear friends. And there are piles of cat hair all over my apartment and the shower is filthy. I haven’t seen parts of my bedroom floor in a month and I barely did half of my laundry today (and even that was two days past necessary.)

Luckily I’ve managed to squeeze in some downtime watching tv with my roommate (otherwise I’d be batshit crazy right now.) And obviously I could write this, which is also necessary to my sanity. But I might still be crazy. Today all day I kept counting down hours, and then I started thinking “At least tomorrow is Friday.” Which is false! Tomorrow is only Thursday! Friday has never seemed further away…

This week was my first week back at student teaching and now I have to really start teaching stuff. Which I honestly have not done much of. I’m a very laid-back person, so I don’t assert myself, especially in someone else’s classroom. My cooperating teacher this semester understands that, but unfortunately my advisor doesn’t. She thinks that it’s hesitancy and laziness and that I just need to practice creating lesson plans until I get confident. I’m confident in my lesson plans, that’s not the issue at all. The entire idea of student teaching is the issue, to me. It’s a personal issue and I’m trying to overcome it, but she is not at all helping.

My advisor and I had a meeting on Thursday, meeting in person for the first time, and I was basically crying the entire time. She came into it with this attitude of disappointment, like I was already doing everything wrong and she didn’t think I’d ever be able to get out of the hole she thinks I’m in. She kept going on about how I’m probably not going to be a teacher, but I still have to pass this semester. I couldn’t tell her how fucked up that was though, because she’s the one who grades me, so I had to “mmhmm” at it all. After half an hour of agreeing to how shitty of a teacher I am and will always be, I started crying and just couldn’t stop. She thinks I am a piece of shit and did very little to hide it. I couldn’t handle it.

I’ve met some really uncool people in this teaching profession. My cooperating teacher understands my frustrations and said something along the lines of “You just have to deal with the political bullshit the best you can.” It is absurdly disheartening how true that’s becoming, how I have to pretend to be someone else’s idea of a teacher, even while those people preach open-mindedness and diversity and different styles of teaching and learning. It’s true, I don’t always know if this teaching thing is right for me. And knowing that assholes like my advisor exist and someone like her could end up being my principal does not help.

Saturday night I went out with some friends and some friends of friends that I didn’t know (and never got to know because they left relatively early.) I played pool and was either amazing or horrible, depending solely on luck. I somehow ended up with half a pack of some weird brand of cigarettes I’ve never heard of. I sent my friend a text that sounded like the middle of a conversation even though it was the first, random text. Typical Saturday night stuff.

And then one of my friends started sobbing to me and another friend. Uncontrollable, big teared, unstoppable crying. I never know how to handle a drunk crier because I don’t cry in public, even when drunk. She was crying because some boy she liked had left for the night. Basically because she’s single, I guess. And I loathe my single status too, but the tears just seemed unnecessary. When I’m drunk and in public, I’m working on erasing my single status, and tears aren’t helpful. (Which probably shows a flaw in my thoughts about relationships, haha.)

At one point I was like, “So, can I go back now?” (Our other friends were in the back by the pool table and we were up by the bar.) And her face was all shock as she said sharply, “No!” But in my head she’d been crying for like five minutes, and I was holding a beer for someone else, so I figured I could take my leave… Like I said, I do not know how to handle a drunk crier.