Aack!

On any given Sunday, a weekend edition of the Huntsville Times is laying on my parents' kitchen table. For years, I've come home from church, sat down at the table and pulled three things from this paper: the Parade insert, the Sports section (really this is only during the Fall), and, of course, the Comics.

I have no need for silliness like The Phantom or Camelot or anything that doesn't make me giggle within four frames. I never skip Peanuts, and my favorite is probably The Family Circus. Another favorite: Cathy.

Okay, Andy Samberg makes fun of her. I'm sure most men hate her: she's the antithesis of female insecurity. Always worried about her weight, her dating life, her relationship with her mother, and her career, Cathy is a walking stereotype. But that's why I love her, she's irresistibly relatable.

Every day I worry about my weight. Somewhere around my sophomore year of college my metabolism crashed around me (likely a combination of no physical activity and a study abroad program in Italy.... gelato, gelato, gelato), and since then I've worked tirelessly to purge Facebook of all pictures taken during those 365 days. Now I keep a closet full of 'skinny clothes' and 'not-so-skinny clothes.' And when I'm more than 'not-so-skinny,'... well, that's what sweat pants are for.

At 23 years old, another friend gets engaged everyday. This, of course, leaves me painfully aware of my own relationship status, or lack there-of really. I joke with my friends a lot about "making him my boyfriend" when an eligible bachelor walks my way, and I have a new crush every week. Sometimes I love it; sometimes I don't.

My girl Cathy's been on my mind since I saw Andy Samberg's Cathy sign off for the last time this weekend; I had no idea the Cathy strip was ending. I'm sad to see it go, mainly because I've come to this realization:

ACK! I'm Cathy.