I never thought my college graduation would be that big of a deal. I had done it before in high school, and I thought that it wouldn't be that different. I was wrong.

When I left high school, I still had a home and parents to look after me. I felt secure. I did everything I was supposed to do: apply to college, get accepted. Of course, I never knew that I would get a summer job after graduation, and I would end up deferring and working for an entire year. It was an amazing experience working at the library, and I know without that job I probably would have no ideas as to what I wanted to do now. That year helped shape me as to the person I would be during college.

Now, as a college graduate, I feel like I don't have anywhere to turn. I know that this is a ridiculous feeling, but I don't have a job and I have thousands of dollars worth of loans. I'm taking two different prescription medications and I will have no health insurance. The only thing that I'm sure of now is that I have a home with my boyfriend.

The one thing that I'm happy about is that there is a huge weight lifted off of my shoulders -- my parents. I know my mom wants to help shape my life, but I know that she can only do so much. I am 23 and she is still telling me what do. I know that my life in Boston -- away from my Mom -- is a godsend. I need to be able to make my own mistakes.

I might still have to take a summer class to get my diploma in the mail, and finish two incompletes, but it still feels good to almost be there. I think the hardest thing to do was wear that stupid cap and gown and walk across that stage.

I feel like my life is both ending and beginning. I'm worried, excited and scared all at once.

I never realized how important bathrooms were to me until recently. It's not just about the morning routine, but about the aesthetics. I'm a sucker for a pretty bathtub and nice knobs on the sink. I know that some people wonder what I'm doing in there, but honestly, I treat the bathroom as an office. At home, the bathroom was the only place where I could get some REAL privacy, so I would spend a couple hours reading and taking a bath and prettying up. I can't say the rest of my family liked that very much, but that's why I always retreated to the bathroom at 1am or some other ridiculous late night hour.

I just finished writing a chapbook/zine full of prose poetry about bathrooms. I included pictures of my boyfriend's bathroom, which is full of the prettiest blue tile. I also have a penchant for pictures in bathtubs -- not only did I take photos of my friend in one for my Photo 1 class, but yes, there are pictures of me as well.

& since I'm trying to keep this clean, I'm not going to include any photos -- just yet.

It's 4am and there's a confused bird singing outside my window. I wonder if it's the too bright for night time lights around the city that confuse these birds or if they just feel like singing and never stopping. I sometimes feel like that. When I start something that I love, I just don't want to stop. I want to be doing it all the time -- like a really good video game, spending time with friends or drinking tea and reading a really interesting book. There are so many tiny things to enjoy in life and it's nice to savor each one.

I try to capture as many of these tiny moments as I can, and share them with the people I love.

He's never cold to the touch. In fact, he's always warming my goosebumps like the best winter blanket. His face in a permanent smile, and his hands always reaching out for hugs. Some people have places where they are comfortable, and others have people. Sometimes it's hard to see where I stop and he begins, I've become too close, too attached. It's hours upon hours in each other's company that makes us a "we" instead of a "me" and a "him." Us seperated just doesn't feel right. It's like a bit of me is missing -- like my left arm fell off on a park bench and a hobo stopped to pick it up and now it's somewhere hidden amongst his treasures in a heavy grocery cart -- but luckily, that can never happen.

I know that with each 'crisis', I feel that we get stronger. I feel bad, because I know that I'm the cause for a lot of things. Emotional ups & downs, if you will. He is always patient and caring and there for me. Instead of running away, I run to him. He's my secret place.

I should be in bed, but I'm not. I've just spent the last 3 days coughing coughing coughing and now my medicated body is not going to let me rest! "Diana," it yells. "You should be out doing something! or at least in and doing something." But of course, I find myself here amongst invisible bloggers and reading words from hands that I'll probably never get to touch.

I started a blog a long time ago, and for me it was never about escape, it was about progress. This thing was supposed to track my time -- mentally & physically. My bodily ups and downs as I went through life. I've quite one blog, started many more and ended up here -- somewhere new -- and I find myself comfortable. I'm definitely fatter, but at least I'm smarter as well. I'm learning what my body can do for me and for other people. I know that sounds like some sort of sexual innuendo, and it should, because it was.

Anyways, sleeping. I should be in bed right now letting my cold rest, so I can get up in the morning to visit my counselor. My last meeting we talked about my mother and how much I envy, loathe and love her. It's such a funny combination of things. I know that I wouldn't be where I am (see, it's progress again) without all the nagging and unpleasantness she brings into my life. And tomorrow, I'll start talking about something new. What will happen after I graduate? I really don't want to think about it. I still have a long way to go, despite it being the last week of classes.

Yes, I'm rambling, but it needs to get out.

But it's nice to see that I made it this far. I started my first blog the first few months of college, and now I'm starting a new one in my last few months of college. I don't know, but it makes me think that I've done a lot of growing up. I used to not be able to switch to new things so easily, it made me panic. But here I am, holding on. And crossing my fingers for the next few months.

I've been spending a lot of time at various 7-11 convenience stores around Boston. It's not like I hang out with the cashiers or I'm spending mega-bucks playing scratch-off lotery, I just go when I'm hungry. The problem with 7-11 is that they are hardly vegetarian friendly, and you have to put off with the often very creepy employees behind the counter. Sometimes it's worth it, and it gives me a story to tell and other times I'm left walking home scared of what has become of the human race.

Here are some tips for vegetarian friendly 7-11 meals/snacks:

-bean & cheese burrito (but only if you are very brave)
-carrot & celery sticks
-any sort of fruit they may have
-pirate booty or veggie chips
-cereal
-egg salad sandwiches
-couscous & lentil soup from fantastic foods (quite delicious)

Now, guess where I'm heading right now? Yeah to my favorite 24-hour establishment for some nourishment.

There are some days where I like looking out the window more than actually being outside. Today the weather is a beautiful 80º, but I would rather sulk John Cusack style (in the rain) more than wear sunglasses, straw hats and sunscreen. I could blame it on my Irish background and that the sun makes me break out into freckles, but alas, I'm not that lucky. Instead, I'm head to toe red and peeling, no darling freckles to be found. I know that part of me is aching to go outside and sit on a bench in the Boston Common reading Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (my first time!) and feeding the squirrels, but instead I'm going to watch How Do I Look? and eat ice cream.

& wish for a giant umbrella to block out the sun.

I think one day I'd love for you to type chisel, and instead of finding power tools, you'd find me.