Come Together

Something has changed on campus.  Up until now, students have travelled the streets of Penn State mostly in packs, sometimes alone, and on occasion, in pairs.  However, in recent weeks, it seems like nearly EVERYONE has coupled up.   All around town they can be spotted, generally one boy and one girl (though this is not a strict formula and can be varied.)  They’re holding hands, smiling, and exchanging long glances and sweet nothings as they wander aimlessly around town.  Is it just a coincidence that everyone seems do as the Beatles’ title Come Together suggests when the weather gets warm, or is there some psychological/physiological explanation behind this explosion of love in the springtime?  I decided to do a little research and find out for myself…

As a matter of fact, the increased sunshine and longer days of spring actually produce hormonal changes.  When the temperature rises, the body secretes less melatonin, resulting in a decrease of the drudging tiredness we feel during the winter.  Serotonin, which governs mood, also increases in the spring, along with testosterone and estrogen.  Finally, animals (humans included) may produce more pheromones, chemicals that attract the opposite sex, when the sun comes out. Some people call spring’s effects on the body “Spring Fever,” which isn’t really a fever or any real illness at all.

You may have Spring Fever if the onset of warm weather causes you to experience:

• Extra energy and increased productivity
• Increased feelings of giddiness/impulsivity; uncanny enthusiasm for life
• Increased libido; unexplainable motivation to begin new relationships

Hormonal changes may be responsible for these symptoms, which when combined are likely to produce greater feelings of closeness/desire/love.  Some people attribute the elevated levels of romance to the simple fact that humans (especially the female type) tend to wear less clothing when the weather gets warmer.  On a college campus, the coupling up may be connected to the “now or never” attitude we experience when summer nears. 

Whatever the reasoning behind it, it’s undeniable that something happens in the spring that triggers romantic feelings.  (After all, more unplanned pregnancies occur in the springtime than any other season.) It’s a strange phenomenon, almost as strange as the lyrics of Come Together.  (In their later career, the Beatles’ music became increasingly bizarre.)  When warm weather appears, suddenly “Here come old flat top, he come grooving up slowly.”  Friendships begin to blossom into something more as males and females (again, not a strict formula) look at each other and say, “I know you, and you know me.”  They run to each other, and they “Come together.”

“Come together, right now, over me.”

Penny Lane

This past weekend, I brought Colin (the boyfriend) home with me for Easter.  It was a big step for us.  He was able to spend a lot of time with my family, meet my friends, and play with my dog, and I was able to show him the place where I spent the majority of my childhood, a place that in many ways is like “Penny Lane” from the 1967 Beatles song of the same name.

I come from a small, rural, economically-disadvantaged town, and unlike many of my neighbors, I never had much “hometown pride” growing up.  I was ashamed of the unemployment rates, frustrated with the lack of opportunities available to me in my high school, and bored by the complete void of entertainment in my town.  Mostly, I felt trapped, suffocated in such a small area.  I remember counting down the days until my move to State College, a big city in comparison.  I couldn’t wait to leave.

I was nervous to bring Colin to this place, especially after visiting the beautiful, blossoming suburb he grew up in over spring break.  However, he was clearly excited and talked about our upcoming adventure weeks in advance.  Still, I was completely surprised to see Colin’s delight and fascination when we finally arrived.  He marveled at the small town storefronts, giggled when I knew nearly every person we saw, and loved my house tucked away in the woods.  I showed him all of the major downtown landmarks:  the school, the football field, the tiny grocery store, our two stoplights… and I also took him to some lesser explored places:  the old fishing docks at the lake, the ATV trails through the forest, and “The Gorge”—a lookout over a breathtaking valley that only a brave hiker can get to.  When he turned to me and whispered, “You know, I think I could live here,” I was confused.  “There’s nothing here!” I wanted to scream.  But Colin sees in the world in a special way… it’s one of the things I love most about him.  Looking at my town through his eyes, I was finally able to see its promise and beauty. 

 Except for the Beatles fans flocking to catch a glimpse of John Lennon’s house, my town is Penny Lane.  It’s a place where “all the people that come and go stop and say hello.”  It’s a quiet place, a safe place.  For outdoor lovers like Colin, it’s a land of endless adventure.  It may not have much, but it’s home.  It’s “in my ears and in my eyes.”  No matter where I end up, it’s a place where “I sit and meanwhile back” at home, I’ll always be welcomed.  Maybe I had to move away to finally see it, but I know now that I’m lucky to have grown up in “Penny Lane.”

Oh Penny Lane

A Hard Day's Night

At Penn State, it seems like every three weeks or so, all of the professors get together and scheme against us.  “These kids have been having too much fun lately.  This week, let’s do everything we can to just destroy them.”  And then, all in the span of a few days, we’re pounded.  Every class demands something else.  Each exam calls for another night of studying.  Each project begs us to squeeze out more creativity from our already exhausted minds.  It is during weeks like these when I am reminded of the Beatles’ A Hard Days Night from their album of the same name.  A Hard Day’s Night is a song about a guy who works really, really hard, and at the end of the day, his mind and body beg him to sleep.  I know we can all relate to that!

However, everything works out for this guy in the song.  As the lyrics continue, he finally leaves his workload behind and heads home.  There, he is greeted by a woman who loves him.  Suddenly, he doesn’t care about sleep anymore, because this girl is exactly what he needs to wind down and relax.  Despite the struggles of his day, being with her makes him feel “all right.”

It’s kind of the same at Penn State.  Maybe we don’t all come home to a caring lover who will take away the stress of day the (and maybe some of us do), but we still know how to have a good time after “It’s been a hard day’s night.”  Whenever “I’ve been working like a dog,” and brew another pot of coffee at 3am to finish the paper I have to write and the debate I have to prepare and the video presentation that needs put together and the four exams I have to study for, I know “I should be sleeping like a log.”  But that’s not what I do.  I want to spend time with the people who will “Make me feel all right.”  We’re working hard because we’ve got big goals to accomplish, “So why on Earth should I moan?”  I’m motivated to keep pushing through the workload, because I know that, “When I get home to you, I find the things that you do, will make me feel all right.”

“You know I feel all right.”

Get Back

This past Wednesday, my baby brother, Joe, celebrated his 16^th birthday.  Because Joe shares my love of the Beatles, a blog dedicated to him was the obvious choice for this week.  He and I like to have jam sessions together, him on the guitar, me on the piano, and both of us singing (poorly.)  One of the songs we used to play was the Beatle’s title Get Back from the album Let it Be.  Coincidentally, the song is about man named Jojo. 

Spending time with my brother is one of the things I miss most since I left home.  I’m proud to say that we have a great relationship—Joe’s been one of my best friends for 16 years.  There’s never a dull moment with him.  We celebrate Music Mondays, our own little tradition of dedicating every Monday evening to listening to music together.  We fly across the country every year, just the two of us, to visit family.  We stay up to watch Saturday Night Live.  We spend hours in the summer tossing baseballs, just chatting.  We beat each other up, but we never fight.  This is the first of his birthdays I wasn’t there for—I used to make his cake every year—and I’m pretty bummed about it.

Jojo from Get Back reminds me of Joe, and not just because it’s a song we used to sing together.  “Jojo was a man who thought he was a loner, but he knew it couldn’t last.”  For a 16-year-old guy, Joe’s got such a cool personality.  He’s very relaxed, very friendly.  He’s an awesome guitar player.  He’s an encyclopedia of random knowledge.  He’s one of those people who can crack a hilarious joke with a completely straight face.  “Jojo left his home in Tuscan, Arizona, for some California grass.”  One of the things I admire most about Joe is his ability to pave his own way in life, regardless of what is expected of him.  For example, he likes Hawaiian shirts… you know, with the buttons down the front and the big hibiscus flowers.  Wearing them, he definitely stands out in a crowd of self conscious young men in tight Abercrombie and Fitch tees, and that’s perfectly fine with him. “Get back, get back, get back to where you once belonged.”  Joe knows his place in the world, and he’s not afraid to be himself.  I’m proud to say that he’s my little brother.

“Get back, Jojo!”

Blackbird

TONS of Beatles songs, especially from their earlier albums, are written about love, but I didn’t pick one of them even though that's exactly what I'm writing about.  The song of the week is Blackbird from the Beatles White Album.  To me, it’s a very powerful tune, and no other song could better represent a post about the three most powerful words in the English language:  I, love, and you.

You can probably guess where I’m going with this—last weekend, my boyfriend of two months, Colin, told me that he loves me for the first time.  I was completely shocked and squealed excitedly as I wrapped my arms around him, barely managing to squeak out a, “Reeeeaaaaalllly?!”  He began to explain himself, “Maybe it’s too soon to say this, but…” Realizing that in my elation I had forgotten to reciprocate, I looked straight into his eyes and finally said it.  “Colin, I love you too.”

I apologize for the sappiness of the post, but it was a sappy moment.  After saying the words back and forth a few more times just because they felt so new and wonderful, we literally just beamed at each other and hugged, both realizing the significance of what had just happened. 

“I love you” is an enormous thing to say to a person, and saying it for the first time must be taken with caution.  It can’t be said too early.  A premature “I love you” is a red flag to me—someone who can fall in love too quickly can fall out just as fast.  Unfortunately, there’s no prescribed amount of time a man must wait before saying the big three words because relationships are so unique and personal.  I say “a man” because, in my opinion, it is absolutely his job to say “I love you” first.  Also, when he’s saying it for the first time, he has to, has to, has to be sober, or else it’s perceived meaningless.  Similarly, “I love you” must be sincere.  Ladies, I’d say we’re pretty good at detecting bulls*%$, wouldn’t you agree?

Luckily Colin met all of these prerequisites, and it’s the craziest thing in the world.  It’s literally a physical feeling—I can feel it in my chest.  It’s heavy and light at the same time, like chocolate mousse.  It spreads through my whole body and I feel weightless, like I’m floating.  It’s the feeling of the first day of spring, that birthday feeling, that Christmas morning feeling.  It’s indescribable but unmistakable, and I’m smiling, smiling, smiling at everything.  It’s terrifying and it’s breathtaking, like a “blackbird singing in the dead of night.”  When it’s real, nothing that has happened in the past is really important.  With Colin, I can “take these broken wings and learn to fly.”  I’ve said it before:  I didn’t expect this and I wasn’t even looking for this, but I know now that “all [my] life, [I] was only waiting for this moment to arise.”

“Blackbird fly,

Into the light of the dark black night.”

Good Day Sunshine

Have you ever noticed how happy everyone is during the first warm days of spring?  As we shed our winter coats, morale gradually improves, and when the thermometer finally hits 70 degrees, everyone just seems to be ecstatic.  I know I am! The Beatle's song Good Day Sunshine from their 1966 album Revolver captures this springtime exuberance.  Even though I love the trees turning in autumn and the first snowfall of the winter, nothing can beat that wonderful feeling of getting my sundresses and flip flops out again and basking in the warmth of spring, especially when it happens in March!

The research about whether or not weather actually affects morale is inclusive.  However, some studies have proven that the optimal temperature for Americans is about 72 degrees, just what the thermostat has read all week!  I love to be outside, so when the weather gets warm, I'm so excited to lay in the grass and study, to take walks, to play volleyball in Pollock quad, to catch frisbees... I even love to keep my window open at night and just listen to the sounds of the great outdoors.  I've also noticed that when temperatures rise, I'm suddenly irritable and antsy whenever I'm forced to stay indoors.  For me, the weather definitely contributes to my mood, especially in the springtime.  All winter long "I need to laugh." Then, when March rolls around, "And when the sun is out, I've got something I can laugh about."  As spring blossoms in State College, "I feel good in a special way."


"I'm in love and it's a sunny day.
Good day sunshine, Good day sunshine."


I'm done writing.  I'm going outside.

Octopus's Garden

Octopus's Garden is one of the Beatles' stranger works (although it's definitely not their strangest!)  Written by their drummer Ringo Starr (one of only two songs he wrote for the band), it is literally about octopuses who supposedly look for shiny objects along the sea bed with which to make gardens.  I don't know if that's really true, but nonetheless, it's a fantastically bizarre and fun song.  To me, this song is about longing to just be somewhere else for a little while.  This week, the place I want to be is home.

I love Happy Valley, and I call Penn State my home, but with spring break starting tomorrow, I'm really excited to be home home.  I don't go back to my hometown often, and I'm definitely ready to see my puppy, spend time with my family, sleep in my own quiet bedroom, shower without shoes on, go to church, and have no school work for an entire week.  

Before I came to college, I couldn't wait to just get away from home.  Growing up in a small town, I always felt suffocated.  Back then, I was longing to come to State College.  It's funny that now that I'm in State College, I sometimes long to go back home.  I'm not saying that I'm homesick, because I'm not sad about being here at all - I honestly love every minute of it.  However, I believe people are always to some extent drawn back to the place where they started out.  It's comforting to be at home where so many years of memories were made.  Going back to the place where my childhood was spent, I feel the burden of adult responsibilities and decisions lift from my shoulders.  I also think it's important to reconnect with everybody I left behind when I moved away from home.  Sometimes I don't get in touch as often as I should, but it's always wonderful to catch up with all of the people supporting me at home.  

My life is in State College now, but my roots will always be at home.  After eight weeks of hard work at school, I'm ready to go away for awhile.  "I'd like to be under the sea."  It's definitely time for some well deserved relaxation "In an octopuses's garden in the shade." (Oh, and if you watch the video, please enjoy the very nice footage of playful octopi!)

"We would be so happy you and me, no one there to tell us what to do.

I'd like to be under the sea, in an octopus's garden with you."