I spent the better part of my evening on the phone.

First I called my mother. We squared away details about my moving back in. As it turns out, they've recently gotten a wireless connection, and for a $40 chip, I will essentially have decent internet access after all. This relieves me greatly. We then talked about details-- in particular my little sister and how we're going to need to get it into her head that since I am now a paying tenant, no she cannot use the closet and dresser in my room, because I will be using it. No she cannot hang out with her friends in my room when I'm not home, and then barge in without knocking at 8:00 am because she forgot something. Andi is fifteen, and every time I come home, she's inevitably wearing some shirt I've been looking for for months. She then also inevitably argues with me to the teeth that said shirt was loaned to her by [insert best friend of the moment]. We're going to have to set boundaries down firmly from the start.

When that was through, we talked about my new job. I will essentially be cross-trained for a wide variety of tasks. At first, I'll start with dispatch, but I will most likely end up in a supervisor's position, essentially people-managing. I will be technically working under my stepfather, Adrian, although I'll be mostly autonomous.

Adrian has never been the kind of guy to give praise. I can count on one hand the number of times he's said he's proud of me, or that I did a good job with something. Usually, I can tell that I've done something he's proud of because he's quiet, satisfied. He doesn't gush. He doesn't offer hugs unless you hug him first (we've only recently started to hug). He's the silent type. In one way or another, I've always been seeking his approval. It's something I recognized in myself a long time ago, and it's probably the reason we had such heated arguments as I grew up. I wanted to prove to him that I was just as smart, that I was just as tough as he was. Of course, this inevitably got me either grounded or nearly thrown out (I lost count), but that's what it was, a lot of it.

My mother told me that the cat got out of the bag that I'll be coming on to work at Cory, and that I'm related to Adrian. This might be an initial problem because if I'm being groomed for a managerial position, it might be assumed that this is only so because I'm the boss's daughter.

She told me about a conversation that she'd overheard between Adrian and one of the other supervisors, Devin, who was questioning my training schedule. She told me about how Adrian had said that the reason I was being cross-trained for a managerial position is because quite frankly, I'm the best-qualified person he's seen for the job. It's not the college degree, it's not that I'm his daughter. He said, "when you see this little redhead walk in, you just watch. All of those guys on the docks are going to give her shit. Just look at how they treat Charlie [one of the other supervisors], and he's not even a girl. The difference is, she doesn't take shit. Remember who raised her. Her father doesn't take shit, and she doesn't take shit, either. That's why she got the job."

I think it was the most stunning bit of praise he's ever given me, crude as it was. And I know he'd never say it to me directly. Just hearing about it secondhand almost brought me to tears. Adrian and I had never been close, emotionally, because Adrian doesn't let people get emotionally close to him. The fact that he said that means more than all of the "I'm so proud of yous" of all the other fathers at Saturday's graduation combined. I'm his child. There's no blood linking us, but I'm his child.

So. Then I called my biological father, to tell him where I'll be leaving his ticket to graduation. It's so strange. For years, he was just "Dad." Now I can't think of him as anything other than "my father." So removed. Not dad. I know that he's going to gush on Saturday. He's going to say how proud he is, and he's going to take part of the credit for my success. It's what he does. It's what he always does. Proud papa, no matter that we haven't had a conversation that scratched the surface in a few years.

I'm going to let him hug me and let him gush, and I will take it with a grain of salt. Then, I will thank him politely, and I will go home with my family.

Virgo:: Nearly half of American high school students believe that the government should have the power to censor the news. Surveys also show that a majority of adults in the U.S. would vote against the Bill of Rights if it were presented to them in a referendum. Don't be anything like those wackos in the coming days, Virgo. On the contrary, you should fight for all the freedom you can imagine, including the freedom of other people as well as your own. Be an expert in liberation.
____________________________________

A fitting horoscope for a graduation. One chapter of my life is ending and another is beginning. Though things at home are much improved, I will still be entering a constraining situation, and one in which I have been often accused of being too open-minded. It is good to bear in mind that freedom is the light at the end of the tunnel, even if it is cleverly disguised.

Anyway, I wanted to talk about the last four years. I got a good hour and a half into a post about it, and then, predictably, LJ ate it. So here you go, perhaps the abridged version.

Heather: What are you going to do without your toe-tingler? I'll miss you so much. You were my first friend here, and we should not lose touch, not while you're still in Maryland. I don't know what I'm going to do without you banging on the walls or yelling "PUD!" when I sing too loudly. We've been through a lot-- tv obsessions, Literary Journalism, getting our hearts shattered, and one notable flying remote control. I want you to take this summer to produce one thing you're proud of. A story, a poem, a startlingly honest journal. I want to read it. You'll be okay-- one foot in front of the other, forward progress is good. You just have to do it. Also, remember The Message: "When you can't walk..." Your friends love you, and we have strong arms.

Racheal: Our favorite Jewish-American Princess. You have such an exciting summer ahead, but don't forget to take the time to stop and be grateful. Experiences like you're having are rare, so be sure to appreciate them to their fullest. I'll miss your sense of humor, but I'm not worrying all that much, since you're so loud I'm sure to be able to hear you clearly all the way from Jersey. Take care to submit thorough background checks of all specimens you're considering dating to the Redhead Brigade Review Board (RBRB), because pookie, your taste in men is questionable. :) Walk to the beat of your own drum, but be sure to figure out your place in life's larger orchestration.

Aster: Naked hair dye time! Okay, so that might be a little hard to pull across the globe. Of all of my friends, you're the one I'm most worried about losing contact with. You're gonna do Big Things. Don't think that because that's so, you have to know everything about everything. Being human and fallible is good. Having lots of room to learn and grow is good. Don't be afraid of the parts of you that you can't quantify-- they're what make you you. Call, write. Keep in touch. And if ever you're in Prague again, you know what I want. Plus more Gazpacho. If you end up in DC for the summer, let's go clubbing.

Noble: I miss you, Communal Boyfriend. I know you care more than you let on, and we all love you for it. Be sure to keep July 3rd free on your calendar.

Laura Caroline: I feel sad that I barely got to know you. Keep on with the art, and keep in touch, because I want that watercolor. Honestly, it's gorgeous. Send me invites to all of your openings, and hug James a lot.

Mike: You're not a school friend, but you've been such an integral part of my last four years that you deserve a mention. As I look out over the crowd tomorrow, as I walk across the stage, it will be so strange not to see your face looking back at me. I know that things got bad, and I know that they'll never ever be what they were. If we can get to a place where we're happy and okay, I will be content. I want to know you. I want to keep on knowing you. You made such an impact on my life-- you taught me how to feel, how to open my heart. How to be vulnerable. I alternately bless you and curse you for this. Regardless, I will eventually get to a place where I don't think of the bad things, where it doesn't hurt to see your photos or hear your voice, and I have rainbow sprinkles to help me get there. Thank you for all the positive changes you began in me, and here's to the continuation of their blooming. It's now my own undertaking, but I'll keep my chin up. You know me, it's what I do. Take care.

McDaniel College: Here's to Hoover library at sunset. The peculiar, soothing calm of Westminster in the evening. The eclectic kitsch of the Pour House. Sledding down the golf course while being snowed in during Jan Term. "Jew, shouldn't you be out killing Jesus?"/"Witch, shouldn't you be out killing babies?" Captain Mal's SpacePants. Star Trek Joe. Idiot Freshman. Singing with the Madrigals-- "Margie Margie Needs a Bra." Dr. Mary on turbo-speed. "Party to the edge of Panek!" "I'm not drunk-- I can still spell 'dictionary'!" Working at the Bookstore. Calling Mike Pitsikoulis "Luigi." Jooooooooan. Veronica Mars! The bible is not a doctrine, it's a book. The frat boys next door butchering some old-school Bon Jovi. "Chava Roth is perfect. Why can't I hate her??" Making fun of Rac's exes. Noble dressing up as Jesus for Halloween. Skanky Jackie (who is now married!). Mark's Legolas impression. Jessica LaFortune. Naked hair dye time! Night Shift. Threatening to harpoon Linsday. Lindsay losing her keys. The Jersey Shore. Philly. Gettysburg. Hershey Park. The girls down the hall who wouldn't ever shut up. Telling ghost stories at 3am in the middle of nowhere during RA training. Michael Dirda's disturbing sexual references. Ren the transsexual. Water fights (and Rac's facial expression). Fruit flies (and Rac's facial expression). Smith House telling everyone that they're pregnant. The gayest little hobbit who ever did gay! Garden State. This is not my best day ever. Chris sticking his finger into Heather's soup. The David Bowie Disease. Spring Fling. The wall outside Blanche filling up with half-naked co-eds the minute the temperature rises above 60 degrees. Midnight breakfast. The trash truck shaking the building at 4am. Winning "best booty" as an RA award. Singing along the MMBop and New Kids. Molesting your heterosexual roommates. Laura 1.0 who sucked. Laura 2.0 who didn't. Sharing a ritual with Racheal. Kyle's constantly asking us to go out for drinks. Sakura. Ashley's awesome documentary. Rac's dejected flip-flop. Our gay boyfriend ("Try it this time without the swishing"). Glenda in the coffeeshop. Having residents ask me out on my evaluation slips. Pink and blue hair. Mike humping various walls (and people). Heather banging on the wall. Crushes with ambiguous sexual orientations. Margie and her Merry Band of Freaks. "You're an English major. What are you going to do? Teach?" "All y'alls best step off." "Golly gee! You're just swell! Wanna go to the sock hop with me?" "No more emotional fucktards!" The Buffy finale. The Angel finale. Farscape marathons. Decorated doors on birthdays. And, in conclusion, "UTERUS!!"

(Feel free to add on in comments.)

To do today: Dinner with Dr. Mary, a final trip to the mailbox, finishing packing, loading a truck with all of my worldly posessions, Baccalaureate practice, Baccalaureate, dinner, Star Wars.

Until next time, all.

ETA:: WE DO NOT STOP FOR JESUS!