I was just looking at the labels that I have used thus far on my blog, and I am really not sure what they say about me…  Take a look - it's a long list.

adulthood

Almost Recess

anger management

appendicitis

art

asphyxiation

attraction

aviators

bandaid

binging

blogging

bosses

boys

budgeting

buttons

candles

cartoons

cell phones

cereal

childhood

cleaning

clumsiness

confusion

contradiction

death

depression

dreams

elevators

emails

embarrassment

emoticons

English

environmentalism

exercise

fire

food

George

Harry Potter

Hermione

hospital

hot men

humor

hurricanes

hypochondria

hypocrisy

Igor

illness

immaturity

infants

internet service

iPods

jeeps

landlords

lawnmowers

maturity

mold

money

monsters

old women

orthodonture

paranoia

parrots

pick-up lines

procrastination

ray bans

retro

Rooney

saloon

shower pans

smoking

social étiquette

solitude

South America

spelling

Starbucks

storm preparation

Superman

teachers

The 1900 Storm

tire swing

toilet paper

Trader Joe's 

trampolines

Twizzlers

weather

wheezing

workplace goofs

My blog is a complete cluster fuck.  However, going through the list, I realized that that makes it a fairly accurate representation my life.  I write about nothing and everything.  And my life is full of daily events that confuse the hell out of me - I'm often not very quick.  It is also painfully obvious that I am completely clueless about the Ways of Things.  The list reads like a frantic collection of possible answers to all of the situations and events that I don't understand - just put a couple of question marks after each word or phrase.  There is also a lot of discomfort and conflict.  I am so glad that at 22 I still don't seem to have a very good handle on things…   

However, at least I am learning how to be flexible.  My mother commented on this today as I was wandering around Philadelphia in flip-flops, in the rain.  Park Towne's internet was failing to work again this morning, so it was impossible for me to give sustenance to my email/facebook addiction, which left me in-need of finding a different location at which to get my fix.  Seems like the universe was pretty set against my getting it, though.  My first stop was the Starbucks right next to the Whole Foods that is a couple of blocks east of where I live.  I could tell from a distance that it wasn't going to be very promising - there were too many visible heads in the windows - but I thought I'd pop my head in anyway in case I wasn't seeing some secret little secluded table in a corner somewhere.

Nope.

It looked like the whole neighborhood was crowded into the place.  The whole neighborhood and its friends and family from out of town.  I left and made a beeline down the parkway, getting completely caught in the Puerto Rican parade that was making its way down the parkway to the sound of drums, reggaeton, and salsa music.  My mom, who was on the other end of the phone, was very excited by all the commotion, and thrilled that she could hear it all in the background.  I was surprised she could hear me at all, since I was also hollering over pretzel vendors and festive parade-goers who were chanting in Spanish.

I made it out of the fracas only to discover that Starbucks #2 was closed due to a planned power outage (wtf?).  This was very depressing because their little white sign directed me to their location on 16th and Arch, which I always forget about even though I pass it EVERY TIME I walk down the Parkway.  I didn't want to go all the way back, so the only thing to do was keep moving forward.  There was only one stop left - the Starbucks on the corner of 16th and Walnut, right next to where I work.

Normally, I do not like sitting close to people when I go to public places.  Maybe it's a function of being American (they say that Americans need about 3 times the amount of personal bubble space than do people in pretty much any other part of the world), or maybe it's just another awkward me thing, but either way, I don't like being squished up next to people I don't know.  However, being at my wits' end, I was all about squashing and squeezing.  Which is good.  Because when I got inside, it turned out that squashing and squeezing was pretty much my only option.

Apparently on rainy days all of Philadelphia turns out to go sit in the closest Starbucks.  Starbucks must love days with crummy weather.

So I am currently sitting at the little bar that runs along the window that faces 16th street, between one girl who, from my surreptitious side-long glances, seems to be working on some kind of lesson plan, and another girl who is trying to eat a fruit and cheese plate while simultaneously reading and highlighting in a  space that is far too small for that activity.  There is a dude on the end in a backwards hat who looks mad annoyed that his space has been so encroached upon.

Sorry, dude, it wasn't my first choice, either.

But anyway, I am proud of myself.  I am sucking up discomfort and tight spaces after a forty minute walk.  Here's to being confused but flexible!