tributo a la mujer.

As I began to glide into that wonderful delirium born of late-night inspiration, finding all sorts of sources and connections for my thesis that I hadn't anticipated, I found one link that said it all:

Women Feeling More Stress in College.

Yes, hombres. I know you're working hard, too. You're expected to be the breadwinners. To be the big pimps. To please your mother. To kick ass at every sports event and in every round of beer pong. To sleep when you're dead. To never show that you're cracking. And to get pretty good grades.

I understand this.

And then you've got the mujeres. Still caught in double expectations: yes, be emotional and vulnerable all you wish. But you're a liberated woman these days and you can take care of yourself. You can cry to your mother but in the end it's you who's up all night finishing your work. You wonder what they might say about you but you're busy creating your own words, making yourself appear - and be - original and capable in - yes - a still male-dominated society. You're good at multitasking, and therefore you take every task every activity every role every teary friend and take it to heart so that everything comes out neatly in the end. And I know that for most of you, "neatly" really masks the desire for perfection.

But how about you? How do you come out?

Do you give yourself time to wonder?

Mike from Cortland and Mike from home will never know how invaluable they were in simply calming me down this year. Kevin has never once laughed at my emotional outbursts. With a look, Jesse lets me know that I'm being ridiculous. Priedes, although we don't speak often, never fails to make me laugh.

Yet what's impressed me most in these months since September is the strength of the women around me. Emeline, that kitten and ticking bomb. Tanya, venturing to Wisconsin. Brittany and Amber, never afraid to battle and raise their voices. Mindy's complete audacity. Rachel - yes, you, my dear! - who, though stepping softly, has made great changes for her own happiness.

I went to play Mario Kart one night and came home the next morning with a story so much like hers. And Natalie's. Cassandra came to practice with a story too much like mine. Beth understood too well. Jess and I wonder out loud together, but soon shake our maracas and dance - we will not sit still for you. Kristen finally said no. Danielle and my cousin Meghan blaze through life with the energy of five small children.

And the wonderful part is that they are a sampling - not the whole.

We look to each other. We smile. And we keep moving.