On Coffee Cups and Growing Up

Through my brief, fleeting college years (which have yet to be completed), I have acquired two coffee cups. Officially, I have doubled my coffee cup count and am proud to say that this very minor accomplishment makes me smile. For anyone who has come into my life, one of the first things they probably find out is that I love cats (albeit somewhat irrelevant) and coffee. I make it every morning and, as many addictions go, I get headaches if I haven't had the black caffeine with half and half within an hour of waking. So to have more coffee cups is really something spectacular.

The first one I obtained toward the end of Fall semester my sophomore year. The Honors Program had a small get together with faculty and students and as a TA of these classes, I was invited. There were sandwiches and crackers and fruit spread across the table of a classroom and after we'd all had our fill, there were small gifts for everyone to choose from. Two different colors of coffee cups, stuffed with candies and tissue paper; I naturally chose the dark blue one over the other (it was so unappealing to me I can't even recall the color), ate the candy inside, washed the cup and set it on my shelf for future use. It's a lovely shade of navy blue, one of my school's colors, and it's the type of paint that, when wet, shines and dries in splotches, so slowly that you can see evaporation taking place beneath your nose. It's got a white inside and writing on the outside with my university name and an Honors program logo. It holds a decent amount of coffee, about 3 cups according to my carafe, and I admit I do feel quite sophisticated when drinking from it. I really was excited for this because it would mean I would be able to go an extra day without having to wash my coffee cups.

My second cup I got as a Christmas gift from two friends in my hall a few weeks before winter break in 2011. It also came with candy inside, hot chocolate mix, a homemade Christmas card sending their love from down the hall, and a small stuffed cat wearing a Santa hat. The cup itself has red, green, and yellow squares (with winter designs) in a patchwork style, alternating between red poinsettias, holly berries, and green winter leaves. It's porcelain and white with a yellow and green stamp on the bottom that says "Holiday Seasons" still partially obscured by a stubborn price sticker that won't come off. I remember getting it and feeling bad that I didn't have a gift for them in return, but they assured me that it was okay and that I hoped I liked the cat; I said I did and it is still displayed though Christmas is over. In retrospect, I believe it was the cup that I was most happy for. It's a smaller cup and I use it on days where I don't feel as though I'll be busy, that the extra jolt of caffeine that comes from my bigger cups isn't needed. I also enjoy making tea of the green variety in this cup when nightly homework is at a standstill and I need something to help me focus; after that and putting on some classical music, I am set to go for as long as necessary.

I like to think that I am growing up as I get more coffee cups. Not just because coffee is such an "adult drink" but because it means I'm getting things of my own. Things that I'll use everyday with significant meaning behind them. Not to say that clothes and school supplies are not important to me, especially when I buy them on my own. I didn't even buy the cups; they were gifted to me. But there's just something about these coffee cups that really signifies aging. All my other dishes are from my family, things that are mismatched and will be shown proper usage with me rather than at home. By getting these cups, I feel I'm just one step closer to my own job, my own place, my own family, my own things, becoming more and more separate from my current family. It's a scary thought though, that someday I will have to be taking care of myself, living a life further and further from what I used to know. But maybe my thoughts will shift, that I'll look on the things from my parents with greater appreciation and nostalgia. Plus, eating and drinking are important things in my life and I have mused that maybe this important life force is influencing my admiration of things as simple as kitchenware.

I would like to say that I will be this reflective when I get my own dishes and silverware, but my mother and I have bought and been prepared for that part for quite some time now. So, I will stick to coffee cups for now. I will continue to add to my collection as often as possible and remember fondly each situation in which I have felt a little older through these physical, fragile manifestations of my memory.

I will definitely drink to that.

How to Let People Use You And, Subsequently, Let Them Down

Tell people you have a car. At first, it may seem as though these people are just asking for rides, willy-nilly, maybe even apologizing after, saying they don't want to use me for my car. But then they tell their friends and suddenly, there's a party in my car and I have to clean up the leftover Target bags and the errant French fry, stowed away between the seat cushions. Soon, the apologies stop. The offer to pay for gas money stops. You start to justify it with, "Well, I mean, I needed to go shopping too," even if it was at a really inconvenient time for you and you didn't need milk for at least another week and you didn't even get a change to look at the ad.

Say, "I'm here for you." It seems like an obvious one, making sure people know that, yes, I would like to be a supportive friend, so let me help you get through this stressful problem where you have to consider your future. Got it. Then it turns into conversations that automatically get turned to the other person, where they ask you how you are, you say fine and start to recount some really big highlights of your day/week/month/life, but somehow, they interrupt and start talking about how cute their cousins are and how much they've grown and "look at their little baby feet I'm so sad they're not little anymore I miss it." When you say I'm here for you, you really mean that you're going to listen to everything they say but then expect nothing in return, leaving you loathing yourself and your relationship with this person.

Share your food with everyone. Someone looks like they're having a bad day? Offer them a piece of chocolate. If they mention they haven't eaten anything for seven hours? Give them your last piece of pizza. Do they keep repeating that they're so hungry but they don't know what they want? Open your fridge to them, recount everything you have, tell everything you could possibly make, search all restaurants in a five mile radius, or offer to go and get them something delicious if you don't have it or have never even heard of it because they look like they' had an awful week. Pretty soon, you'll be giving out your last Bowl of Noodles that your parents bought you from Costco because you are a hungry college student/unemployed worker/live in a third world country but you know that there are people that need the MSG more than you, so you make sure they're happy while you're stuck with something terrible from the cafeteria or the moldy lettuce from the back of the fridge. At least you ate something.

Make sure you say yes to everything. It starts small, with a "Hey, let's get dinner," and "Hey, will you help me with this math problem?" Then it turns into, "Pick up the phone every time I call you so that we can talk about nothing, sit in silence, and then let an hour pass by without as much as anything meaningful passing by our lips even though I know you have homework to do or have other friends to see or you feel terrible after talking to me," or  "Come see this YouTube video I think is really hilarious but you probably don't have time for, especially since I'm going to suck you in with at least ten more videos about puppies that look like celebrities that look like cats that look like my mother." It's hard at first to think about saying anything other than "yes" but once you get back to your place, it's one in the morning, and you have homework/cleaning/a job to do, you learn to wallow in your self pity and criticize yourself for not being strong enough to say no and feeling incredibly dumb for falling into the same trap of "I would love to help you." If you say no, you will disappoint them and nothing will ever be the same.

Commit to everything, feel guilty for being unintentionally flaky. This is a lot like saying yes, but it's yes for multiple people all at the same time. You need to be at the doctor at 10:30? Yes, I will do that for you. And you want to meet me for lunch at 11? Yes, I can do that. I may be a little late, because my friend is on the other side of town and I told her I would also take her home after the appointment after picking up her medication from Walgreen's. I may even bring her along and eat with a heavy heart because my other friend is waiting to go home but I haven't seen you in a while and I want to do both so badly but I can't because I'm only one person. It's okay, I'll be fine, I can't be stressed about it now, since I have another meeting at 1:30 for the Recycling Committee and another at 2 for a coffee break. I'll pencil you in my nonexistent calendar.

Try to be everything to everyone. Consequently, make sure everyone else is always happy. If someone needs a listener, be that and don't expect them to pay the same respect to you. If someone needs a gym buddy, go and workout with them even if you hate running because it's bad for your knees but you go because your friend really hates going to the gym alone and people stare at her funny and you really boost her self-confidence. If your friend needs someone to help her with taxes/homework/babysitting, you have to do it, even if you don't even make enough to keep track of your own finances or you really aren't all that good at interpreting Nietzsche or you think kids are satanic creatures, you are going to help her because someday, when the end of the world is nigh and you have a bunch of favors to call in, you're going to be able to ask for something like a hug or a supportive shoulder, so you've got to save up for that moment. You've got to make sure that all that you've done for everyone else is going to finally pay off for yourself in the smallest of dividends and it's all going to be worth it when the time is perfectly right. But only for the other person.