September 2, 1999
Hormones and "Happy Birthdays"

I hate hormones. Not that I can blame my actions on them, but women know that during a certain time of the month we can change moods at the drop of a hat. Most of the time I don’t have erratic mood swings (it has been known to happen, however), but things effect me differently instead. Today was one of those days and I’m not proud to admit it.

When I showed up for class at 3 PM this afternoon I was talking with Joe because he was waiting to pick up his football tickets from Stu when he came. When Stu showed up he had a rose in his hand. Joe and the others that were waiting with me said, “Aww,” like they thought the rose must be for me. Now, if they hadn’t been there I wouldn’t have thought the same thing. Honest! Of course the rose wasn’t for me, and I was disappointed because for one moment after the others reacted I thought just maybe they were right. That was stupid incident number one. When Stu and I got into the classroom we were just barely on time and we sat in the back of the lecture hall. So I look through my backpack for my glasses and all I find is an empty case. I squinted through the entire two hours of differential equations review in order to see anything. Welcome to stupid incident number two. At lunch we had blueberry muffins along with nacho bar (my favorite) and I decided to bring one to Stuart because I knew he wouldn’t eat a good meal. When I gave it to him he said that he doesn’t like blueberry muffins. Great. How many times can I screw up in ten minutes? I try to do something nice and of course it doesn’t work out. It figures – stupid incident number three. Let’s just say I was out of sorts during class and since I couldn’t read the board I was out of touch with the lecture material also. My academic day was a total bust today.

NOTE FROM 9/4/99: My description of the events above is not very complete and it leaves out some key information. Thanks to an email from a friend I see that I inadequately explained the “rose situation.” It turns out that the rose Stuart got was from his boss where he works. I can’t tell you why he got it because I didn’t give Stuart much chance to explain further. Maybe he will tell me again and I will relate the rest of the story. No, he wasn’t going to give the rose to someone else! As far as I know he kept it and it adorns his room somehow. Please don’t think that I meant anything bad about my boyfriend because of this incident. I was just being a jealous little girl and drawing conclusions that were ridiculous.

I had everything ready for Katherine’s birthday table today. Her real birthday was May 17th, but since we weren’t in school then we saved the celebration for this fall. Since I had class from 3 to 5 PM I only got back to the house around 5:10 PM to set up the table. I got her cake at Albertson’s because I really don’t like the ones from Publix, but it wasn’t that great. Next time I am going to a legitimate bakery to make sure the cake will be good. Katherine loved her gift, though. A couple of weeks ago I ordered two silver medallion charms that said Alpha Chi Omega in Greek letters for Katherine and me. Now we have matching necklaces. I pulled off the birthday table even though I wasn’t in the greatest of moods. Happy belated birthday, Katherine.

It’s time for me to finish my fluid dynamics homework that is due tomorrow. I have been putting it off since I got stuck on one of the problems this afternoon. I was working on it during “Days of Our Lives,” so that might have something to do with it. I was distracted by the really bad plot and acting, along with Ali’s really hilarious performance. I just got off the phone with Stu and I feel a little better about the crazy stuff that happened today to put me in such a bad mood. I wish I could put my feelings into words and explain why I act like a moron sometimes, but I can’t justify my actions to myself. Why do I need so much emotional support to stay happy? I try to be independent, but I always end up in tears. I know I drive people crazy with my unpredictable moods. I will try harder next time – even if I don’t get any roses.