That's right, folks; your girl did it. I successfully (while maybe not sanely) made it through my first year of college. I've officially packed up my things in my dorm, handed in my key, and moved back home for the summer. And it happened so quickly too.
And after finishing my last final today, I can officially say I'm no longer a freshman in college. While I'm excitedly looking forward to sophomore year, I just want to look back a bit on freshman year, and all the things that happened.
This year was great. And it was also shitty. But they balance each other out and my optimistic pest in me wants to just go with the fact that it was great. I, in a very cliche way, learned a lot about myself and who I am and who I want to be. I also learned how to drink wine, but that's a whole different story.
I found that I'm not sure what I want to do with my life. And I'm okay with it. Before, I would have shuddered at the thought of the unknown and not having a set plan. But going to school with hundreds of other college aged kids who are in the same boat has made me realize, 'Hmm.. I'm not the only one who hasn't figured it all out yet'. Hell, even some of my graduating senior friends are still like MEH, not really sure, I'll figure it out when the time is right. My fear of the unknown and unplanned hasn't totally subsided and sometimes I have a mini-meltdown when I think about my future too much, but college has definitely shown me that I'm not the only one trying to figure it all out. And it's okay not to know what you want to do, as long as you do something.
I had a lot of rough patches this year, particularly with my depression and anxiety. I had many times where I was up late at night, tossing and turning and trying to figure out how to calm myself down. I'd have nights where I'd cry myself to sleep. I pushed people away, got mad at people over nothing, and crawled inside of a hole that I wasn't sure I was going to get out of. And honestly, this was one of my biggest fears when I decided to go to college. I had suffered a lot through high school and had a lot of mental health issues that hindered my success. I was terrified that the same was going to carry over into college and that I was going to have to come home after my first year.
But in a way, being on my own and having to figure things out myself has really helped me. I was away from home and away from my rock, aka my mother, so every time I had an anxiety attack or a rough mental health day or I wasn't taking my medication like I should have (aka me being an idiot because I know the consequences and yet.. Still, I would forget to take it), I had to figure it out myself. Sure, sometimes I would call my mom late at night and cry to her for 40 minutes and tell her how much I hated life at the moment and wanted to come home and I would second guess my ability to manage. But in the end, it helped me discover new, healthy coping techniques and helped me discover how strong I really am. I always like to remind myself that I've had my fair share of bad days, and thus far, I've gotten through all of them, so I'm capable of getting through a bunch more. I've also learned that I'm not alone in that sense, that a bunch of my friends also suffer from depression or other mental health issues. And it's okay. I'm so grateful for my friends for also helping me through.
One of the most important things I learned this year, in regards to academics, was to ask for help when you need it. To be totally honest, I have nothing less than a perfectionist attitude. I don't like to ask for help because part of my brain apparently thinks that I should get everything 100% right the first time. It's an obnoxious flaw that I have and I'm consistently working on it because I'm sure you can imagine how stressful this can make things, especially when I'm trying them out for the first time. It's silly of me to expect to be perfect at everything, not to mention when I'm trying them out as a beginner. But it's always been a mentality I've had and I won't lie, it's pretty toxic. Because of this, I've taught myself not to ask for help, to figure things out on my own. But in a college environment where everything is taught at a fast pace and there's little room to catch up if you're behind, you have to learn how to ask for help. And this meant that I had to face my fears of asking for assistance.
I took a math class this past semester, and while I'm not terrible at math, it's definitely one of those subjects that you have be present for. And like everyone, I would get sick and I missed a few classes. This is when I realized how crucial being in class was. I ended up falling behind and cursing myself for letting myself do that and wondering how I was going to get back to where I needed to be. My mom pushed me to go to my professor and explain my frustrations, but this suggestion alone gave me anxiety beyond belief, so it was out of the question. But my school has a great tutoring program available through our library, free of charge, which is amazing since some tutors want to be paid, and for good reason too! I decided to try my luck, put my fear of judgment behind me, and sign up for a tutoring session because I won't lie, I was very lost in the material we were covering. I remember just sitting on my bed, trying to do homework and falling into a sobbing heap because I had no idea what I was looking at. I guess I'm very happy that I was desperate because it led me to appreciate the amazing student-led tutoring program we have. It also taught me that it's okay to reach out for help, whether it be academic, emotional, or otherwise. We're humans and we make mistakes, and sometimes even the most positive of us need to be reminded of that.
One of the hardest things I think I had to learn this year was that letting go of people who are not good for you is okay and you should do it, even if it's extremely hard at first or even if your friends are still going to be friends with them. Sometimes you will meet people who seem like they have your best interests in mind at first. But after a while, those people may reveal their true selves, whether it be they're actually selfish, rude, have no regard for your feelings/personal space/time, or any other number of reasons. You will meet people who do not actually care about you. They will call you their friend, they will portray themselves like this, but if you dig a little deeper or you get into a situation where you need them, those people may disappear and show you via actions what you really mean to them.
But this is okay. It is totally, 100% okay because you should be looking out for yourself and your feelings and your personal well-being, and if a person is compromising these things, they are not your friend. They do not care about you because friends do not hurt each other emotionally, mentally, and especially not physically. If you find yourself being treated wrongly by a 'friend', please do yourself a favor and walk away. It is hard, and sometimes your friends will be pissed off and be like YO Y R U CREATING DRAMA?!!~~, but disregard this. Your well-being should come first, not the sustainability of your friend group. Sure, it may be awkward for a bit and you may have weird run ins with this person, but these things will subside. I promise you, they will. You'll move on and even if that person does not, you can be the bigger, more mature person in the situation and forget about it. Some people are just not meant to be in your life and that's okay.
In a very cliche and totally typical way, I learned that I should always be myself. People will flock to you, no matter how weird you think you are. I found some of my greatest friends through my insane love of musical theatre. I also found great friends in the departments I'm apart of (communications/film studies and theatre arts double major WOOT!) because we all shared similar interests. I found amazing allies and girl friends through a feminist group that was formed at my school. And I also learned, through this experience, that I should never shy away from what I believe in. If people don't like you because you're open and honest about your opinions, whatever, it's okay. I'm sure there will never be a day where I'm not called a "crazy, angry feminist" but I'm totally cool with that, because I'm cool with who I am. The key to not letting people get under your skin is to truly know who you are as a person. If you know who you are, the things people tell you that you are cannot effect you.
So thanks freshman year. You've taught me quite a bit about myself and have brought me to a place where I feel extremely at peace and happy. I had times this year where I never thought I'd feel this inner peace, but here I am. It feels so gratifying to say that.
I'd also like to end this post with a bit of an apology. I've been taking some personal time off to deal with some personal issues that are going on in my crazy and hectic life. I've also been in the midst of trying to find a job for the summer because college is expensive and abroad trips don't pay for themselves and money doesn't grow on trees, blah blah blah. So I'm sorry I have not been a good blogger. I truly, truly apologize. But this summer and into next semester, we're going to work on that and make writing and blogging a priority! I wish you all the best.
Showing posts with label college. Show all posts
Showing posts with label college. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 10, 2015
Tuesday, January 20, 2015
messy living quarters and quiet hours.
So it's official; I'm back at college for my spring semester of freshman year. I actually have class at 1 p.m, but I'm still in bed and kind of groggy and contemplating on making a cup of coffee so I can survive through my stats class. We'll see where it goes.
I'm also currently living in a state of disarray because my stuff is everywhere and nothing seems to have a proper place right now, but we'll get there. First I have to get up, which is honestly the hardest battle I've ever had to fight (jk, that's a total lie) because doing nothing all break has warranted me totally useless, to be honest. But, I will admit, I'm very happy to be back on campus with my friends and living with my awesome roommate and being confined to a small space again because, weirdly, I love it. I've loved everything that has come with college, even the annoyance of sharing a bathroom with so many other people and shitty shower water pressure and the fact I can't have a toaster in my room (I'm really craving an English muffin right now). But it's okay.
I really can't put into words the excitement I feel about this semester. My love for learning has finally returned after being stolen by the public education system for four long years (oh drama, oh life~). I enjoyed certain aspects of high school, but I definitely didn't love it the way I love college. I guess the freedoms of living on my own and choosing who I associate with are only a few reasons why I love it so much. But I'm a huge fan of the rigorous courses and the fast paced learning. That's something I really craved in high school and I only ever found AP classes to satiate that kind of hunger. And now I probably sound like some poetic douche who's trying to assert their educational dominance. I promise I'm not, I'm just sleepy and kind of anxious about the first day of classes.
I will say, though, I definitely do not love the fact that the wifi here is the slowest thing to exist on this planet. It makes keeping up with my YouTube subscriptions difficult and watching anime even more difficult. It even causes my Pandora stations to skip sometimes which is incredibly frustrating when I'm trying to do something like clean my room. The kicker is that apparently they recently renovated and updated the wifi in my building. I beg to differ, school. I really do.
So, I suppose I should be done now. I need to take a shower and get my bag packed for class and look presentable and that's gonna take some time with how slow I am this morning/afternoon. Today's post was short, but I promise that I'll be back soon with more (hopefully) interesting content. Maybe. I can't promise I'll continue to be interesting and deep and sooper kewl.
I'm also currently living in a state of disarray because my stuff is everywhere and nothing seems to have a proper place right now, but we'll get there. First I have to get up, which is honestly the hardest battle I've ever had to fight (jk, that's a total lie) because doing nothing all break has warranted me totally useless, to be honest. But, I will admit, I'm very happy to be back on campus with my friends and living with my awesome roommate and being confined to a small space again because, weirdly, I love it. I've loved everything that has come with college, even the annoyance of sharing a bathroom with so many other people and shitty shower water pressure and the fact I can't have a toaster in my room (I'm really craving an English muffin right now). But it's okay.
I really can't put into words the excitement I feel about this semester. My love for learning has finally returned after being stolen by the public education system for four long years (oh drama, oh life~). I enjoyed certain aspects of high school, but I definitely didn't love it the way I love college. I guess the freedoms of living on my own and choosing who I associate with are only a few reasons why I love it so much. But I'm a huge fan of the rigorous courses and the fast paced learning. That's something I really craved in high school and I only ever found AP classes to satiate that kind of hunger. And now I probably sound like some poetic douche who's trying to assert their educational dominance. I promise I'm not, I'm just sleepy and kind of anxious about the first day of classes.
I will say, though, I definitely do not love the fact that the wifi here is the slowest thing to exist on this planet. It makes keeping up with my YouTube subscriptions difficult and watching anime even more difficult. It even causes my Pandora stations to skip sometimes which is incredibly frustrating when I'm trying to do something like clean my room. The kicker is that apparently they recently renovated and updated the wifi in my building. I beg to differ, school. I really do.
So, I suppose I should be done now. I need to take a shower and get my bag packed for class and look presentable and that's gonna take some time with how slow I am this morning/afternoon. Today's post was short, but I promise that I'll be back soon with more (hopefully) interesting content. Maybe. I can't promise I'll continue to be interesting and deep and sooper kewl.
Friday, January 16, 2015
back to regularly scheduled programming.
It's been quite a few days since I've posted something on here. I wish I could say it's because I've been busy getting things together to go back to school for spring semester, but truthfully, I've just been laying around the house in my PJ's and watching a lot of anime while occasionally listening to my records. Don't get me wrong, I have been getting things together little by little, but I should probably put more effort into it considering that I move back into my dorm in T-3 days.
I can't lie, though, I'm very excited to go back to college life. I've really enjoyed the break and being able to do whatever with little to no responsibility. I've also enjoyed sleeping until whenever because I can and not having to worry about making it to class on time. And I've greatly enjoyed spending so much time with my cats, because I really miss them when I'm at school. Now that I have two (I recently adopted a Siamese kitten) the cat feels are going to be twice as much while I'm away. I am, in fact, a bonafide cat lady.
But truthfully, there's something so awesome about living on your own in a dorm at school. I've really enjoyed having the freedom to do whatever (and then have to take care of my own problems, of course, but that's a whole different story..) and make the rules. Being away at school and being on my own, for the most part, has helped me learn a lot about myself and has also made me into more of an adult, I would say. And I've elaborated on this topic already, so we're going to move on.
I'm hoping that after I move back in and life goes back to being it's crazy self, I'm going to keep up with this blog. I'm really, really hoping. I've enjoyed doing this so far, even though it's been not that many weeks since I started again. But I really have enjoyed writing down things that go through my head or about things that spark my interest. Basically, I have to make my blog a priority when I go back to school and academic life. As someone who procrastinates a lot and tends to forget about things a little to easily, it's gonna be tough. But I'm determined to make it work because like I said, I've thoroughly enjoyed it so far. And I think it'll continue to be fun going forward.
In a related topic, I'm unsure of what I should talk about going forward. As I've said previously, I want this blog to be interesting and not just a running dialogue of what's going on in my head/a journal/a place where I complain all the time because that's not fun to read. I guess some major brain storming should take place and I should also probably write down the ideas I get at 1 a.m when I'm about to go to sleep but then have some random spark of genius. This happens a lot, especially with writing (I'm a writer, I suppose. I write poems and junk. It's casual) and then I wake up in the morning, pissed off at myself because I probably just let a really good one go just because I value sleep above a lot of things. This is yet another thing that should probably change. Yes, sleep is very valuable and something we need as humans to live and recharge and what not, but still. Sleep is not more important than my education or my money that's going towards my education. Because college is not cheap in America. Not at all.
And as a gentle reminder for all the people out there that read this and also go to college, don't forget to fill out your FAFSA!! It's very important that you do so you can be educated and do awesome things without going broke in the process (actually, let's be real, you'll still probably go broke in the process but I mean like, it'll be fun right? ha, ha hahaha HAHHOHWOFIHAOF)
Okay, well.. I should probably stop wasting time on the Internet and get up and do something. There's a imaginary laundry list of things that I have to get done today and I have done 1.2 of those things. Go me. We're getting somewhere.
I can't lie, though, I'm very excited to go back to college life. I've really enjoyed the break and being able to do whatever with little to no responsibility. I've also enjoyed sleeping until whenever because I can and not having to worry about making it to class on time. And I've greatly enjoyed spending so much time with my cats, because I really miss them when I'm at school. Now that I have two (I recently adopted a Siamese kitten) the cat feels are going to be twice as much while I'm away. I am, in fact, a bonafide cat lady.
But truthfully, there's something so awesome about living on your own in a dorm at school. I've really enjoyed having the freedom to do whatever (and then have to take care of my own problems, of course, but that's a whole different story..) and make the rules. Being away at school and being on my own, for the most part, has helped me learn a lot about myself and has also made me into more of an adult, I would say. And I've elaborated on this topic already, so we're going to move on.
I'm hoping that after I move back in and life goes back to being it's crazy self, I'm going to keep up with this blog. I'm really, really hoping. I've enjoyed doing this so far, even though it's been not that many weeks since I started again. But I really have enjoyed writing down things that go through my head or about things that spark my interest. Basically, I have to make my blog a priority when I go back to school and academic life. As someone who procrastinates a lot and tends to forget about things a little to easily, it's gonna be tough. But I'm determined to make it work because like I said, I've thoroughly enjoyed it so far. And I think it'll continue to be fun going forward.
In a related topic, I'm unsure of what I should talk about going forward. As I've said previously, I want this blog to be interesting and not just a running dialogue of what's going on in my head/a journal/a place where I complain all the time because that's not fun to read. I guess some major brain storming should take place and I should also probably write down the ideas I get at 1 a.m when I'm about to go to sleep but then have some random spark of genius. This happens a lot, especially with writing (I'm a writer, I suppose. I write poems and junk. It's casual) and then I wake up in the morning, pissed off at myself because I probably just let a really good one go just because I value sleep above a lot of things. This is yet another thing that should probably change. Yes, sleep is very valuable and something we need as humans to live and recharge and what not, but still. Sleep is not more important than my education or my money that's going towards my education. Because college is not cheap in America. Not at all.
And as a gentle reminder for all the people out there that read this and also go to college, don't forget to fill out your FAFSA!! It's very important that you do so you can be educated and do awesome things without going broke in the process (actually, let's be real, you'll still probably go broke in the process but I mean like, it'll be fun right? ha, ha hahaha HAHHOHWOFIHAOF)
Okay, well.. I should probably stop wasting time on the Internet and get up and do something. There's a imaginary laundry list of things that I have to get done today and I have done 1.2 of those things. Go me. We're getting somewhere.
Friday, January 9, 2015
happenstance.
I've been sitting around lately, trying to figure out what I would talk about next on my blog. I want to keep everything interesting and relevant (for the most part) so that maybe people will want to read this on the regular. I was just scrolling through Tumblr about five seconds ago (follow me here) and saw something that really sparked an idea in me. It was a picture with an awesome quote on it that read:
"Sometimes I remind myself that I almost skipped the party, that I almost went to a different college, that the whim of a minute could have changed everything and everyone. Our lives, so settled, so specific, are built on happenstance."
I think about this concept of 'happenstance' a lot. Like, a lot a lot. I actually had a discussion with my mom about it last night, though I think she sees 'happenstance' more as 'God does wonderful things', which doesn't particularly excite me because I'm not religious. But, whatever you personally believe in, whatever force (or lack thereof) you think helps us along in life, it's an interesting thought.
This time last year, I had just been accepted to my first college. I received my acceptance letter in the mail around the 23rd of December, and was excited to start a new chapter in my life. I was also anxiously awaiting two other letters from two other universities and hoping that I would be accepted to my dream school. I was also starting to doubt that I would be going to my dream school, that I would be living the city life I had imagined after living in a rural town for the 17 years of my life. At the time, I was not only dealing with my senior year of high school and everything that comes with it, but also battling back against yet another round of anxiety and depression issues.
I don't want to get too personal or spend too much time on my personal life issues, but I've been diagnosed with anxiety and depression since I was 12. It's been an entirely uphill battle, though right now, life is pretty grand and I think I've finally found the things I need to continue being happy and functional. It was a hard combination, and with both my mom and my counselor telling me to chill out and go to school locally after high school, I was getting pretty bummed out about my future.
Anyway, as I was saying, I had gotten my first acceptance letter. I was super stoked, except for the fact that it was to the school my mom wanted me to go to since it was closer than my dream school, which was 5 hours and however many miles away. I was glad I had a 'backup', but was even more excited to finally get my acceptance letter from the other school, and prove to everyone that I could handle myself. But, ultimately, I was rejected from my second choice, and my letter of acceptance from my dream school (which was international) was taking too long to come. I had to put my deposit down at a college soon or wait a whole semester. I didn't want to risk putting all my eggs in one basket for something that might not work out, so I basically decided, screw it, I guess my mom is getting her way after all.
And at the time, I was irritated about it. This isn't what I wanted and I felt like I was being babied. After years of counseling and med changes, I was functional and able to handle myself. Or at least, I thought I was. Truthfully, I was still in the midst of figuring life out and figuring my anxiety out as well. It was still in the stages where it somewhat controlled me, but I guess I was just too anxious to realize that.
So, fast forward to the summer, right before I was to go off to school. Everything was ready; I had bought everything I thought I needed, spent countless amounts of money, had multiple existential crises, and second guessed myself numerous times. But, on move in day, everything felt.. Okay. Of course, at this point, I had accepted my enrollment at this school, mostly because I thought, "Well, I'll just go here for a year or two and then transfer. I'm sure I won't even like it that much anyway."
But after unpacking and settling in, two weeks later, I was having the time of my life. I made some really awesome friends (and was about to make even more awesome friends. HI KELS!), I had freedoms that I had never experienced before, I was enjoying my courses much more than I anticipated, and, even though I didn't know it, I was bound to meet a really cool guy after a party and end up really liking him (shout out to le bf. He's pretty cool. Thank god he went to go get pizza that night).
Even though I was super apprehensive to go to this school in the first place, everything seemed to be working out. Everything was falling into place. My first semester wasn't perfect and I had some setbacks from my depression, but I worked through them. And I grew. I managed to fix problems myself (and with a little help from my friends) and finish my semester with a solid GPA. Looking back, I'm like, "huh.. Well would you look at that. Everything worked out pretty well." And even that is an understatement. Everything worked out beyond my wildest expectations.
And I wonder, what if I hadn't gone to this school? I wouldn't have met my best friends, I wouldn't have met le bf, and I wouldn't have enjoyed my first semester of college so much. Maybe I would have enjoyed it, but college was everything I could have hoped for. I guess it was just fate that had me end up here, where I am now. And even though I was trying to make it a different outcome, I'm glad that this one prevailed. I'm glad I was rejected from my second choice university. I'm glad that I didn't move 5 hours away from my mom and everything I knew. I'm glad that I decided to 'play it safe' and go to school more close to home. If I had gone somewhere else, or even taken a semester or year off, I wouldn't have met the people I know now. And I don't know if I could picture my life without them. They're all so amazing in their own ways. But that's a whole different blog post.
So sometimes, I think, we should all take a step back. The universe and it's myriad of magical forces has a way of making sure everything works out in the end. Or maybe that's just my naive optimism speaking, but I truly believe that. Sure, everything isn't handed to you on a silver platter. But the little things we are given can turn into a huge opportunities or even beautiful relationships that we'll cherish forever, as long as you let them. So thank you, happenstance. You're pretty cool. And so are the things that you've given me.
"Sometimes I remind myself that I almost skipped the party, that I almost went to a different college, that the whim of a minute could have changed everything and everyone. Our lives, so settled, so specific, are built on happenstance."
I think about this concept of 'happenstance' a lot. Like, a lot a lot. I actually had a discussion with my mom about it last night, though I think she sees 'happenstance' more as 'God does wonderful things', which doesn't particularly excite me because I'm not religious. But, whatever you personally believe in, whatever force (or lack thereof) you think helps us along in life, it's an interesting thought.
This time last year, I had just been accepted to my first college. I received my acceptance letter in the mail around the 23rd of December, and was excited to start a new chapter in my life. I was also anxiously awaiting two other letters from two other universities and hoping that I would be accepted to my dream school. I was also starting to doubt that I would be going to my dream school, that I would be living the city life I had imagined after living in a rural town for the 17 years of my life. At the time, I was not only dealing with my senior year of high school and everything that comes with it, but also battling back against yet another round of anxiety and depression issues.
I don't want to get too personal or spend too much time on my personal life issues, but I've been diagnosed with anxiety and depression since I was 12. It's been an entirely uphill battle, though right now, life is pretty grand and I think I've finally found the things I need to continue being happy and functional. It was a hard combination, and with both my mom and my counselor telling me to chill out and go to school locally after high school, I was getting pretty bummed out about my future.
Anyway, as I was saying, I had gotten my first acceptance letter. I was super stoked, except for the fact that it was to the school my mom wanted me to go to since it was closer than my dream school, which was 5 hours and however many miles away. I was glad I had a 'backup', but was even more excited to finally get my acceptance letter from the other school, and prove to everyone that I could handle myself. But, ultimately, I was rejected from my second choice, and my letter of acceptance from my dream school (which was international) was taking too long to come. I had to put my deposit down at a college soon or wait a whole semester. I didn't want to risk putting all my eggs in one basket for something that might not work out, so I basically decided, screw it, I guess my mom is getting her way after all.
And at the time, I was irritated about it. This isn't what I wanted and I felt like I was being babied. After years of counseling and med changes, I was functional and able to handle myself. Or at least, I thought I was. Truthfully, I was still in the midst of figuring life out and figuring my anxiety out as well. It was still in the stages where it somewhat controlled me, but I guess I was just too anxious to realize that.
So, fast forward to the summer, right before I was to go off to school. Everything was ready; I had bought everything I thought I needed, spent countless amounts of money, had multiple existential crises, and second guessed myself numerous times. But, on move in day, everything felt.. Okay. Of course, at this point, I had accepted my enrollment at this school, mostly because I thought, "Well, I'll just go here for a year or two and then transfer. I'm sure I won't even like it that much anyway."
But after unpacking and settling in, two weeks later, I was having the time of my life. I made some really awesome friends (and was about to make even more awesome friends. HI KELS!), I had freedoms that I had never experienced before, I was enjoying my courses much more than I anticipated, and, even though I didn't know it, I was bound to meet a really cool guy after a party and end up really liking him (shout out to le bf. He's pretty cool. Thank god he went to go get pizza that night).
Even though I was super apprehensive to go to this school in the first place, everything seemed to be working out. Everything was falling into place. My first semester wasn't perfect and I had some setbacks from my depression, but I worked through them. And I grew. I managed to fix problems myself (and with a little help from my friends) and finish my semester with a solid GPA. Looking back, I'm like, "huh.. Well would you look at that. Everything worked out pretty well." And even that is an understatement. Everything worked out beyond my wildest expectations.
And I wonder, what if I hadn't gone to this school? I wouldn't have met my best friends, I wouldn't have met le bf, and I wouldn't have enjoyed my first semester of college so much. Maybe I would have enjoyed it, but college was everything I could have hoped for. I guess it was just fate that had me end up here, where I am now. And even though I was trying to make it a different outcome, I'm glad that this one prevailed. I'm glad I was rejected from my second choice university. I'm glad that I didn't move 5 hours away from my mom and everything I knew. I'm glad that I decided to 'play it safe' and go to school more close to home. If I had gone somewhere else, or even taken a semester or year off, I wouldn't have met the people I know now. And I don't know if I could picture my life without them. They're all so amazing in their own ways. But that's a whole different blog post.
So sometimes, I think, we should all take a step back. The universe and it's myriad of magical forces has a way of making sure everything works out in the end. Or maybe that's just my naive optimism speaking, but I truly believe that. Sure, everything isn't handed to you on a silver platter. But the little things we are given can turn into a huge opportunities or even beautiful relationships that we'll cherish forever, as long as you let them. So thank you, happenstance. You're pretty cool. And so are the things that you've given me.
Wednesday, January 7, 2015
adulthood.
In November, I turned 18. The big 1-8, the legal age of (almost) everything. I'm officially considered an adult, yet I still sometimes feel 12 on the inside. Some people might even be convinced that I'm a 5 year old stuck inside an 18 year old body. Sometimes, I'd agree with them. I still quote Spongebob like a 10 year old who's had too much candy.
Adulthood is this weird thing to me. Suddenly, once you turn 18, POOF, you can no longer be tried as a juvenile (not that I have plans to commit a crime or anything) and you suddenly have all these responsibilities thrust upon you like voting and driving yourself to the doctor and making your own damn appointments (which terrifies me, but we're slowly working on it). But in all honesty, I just want to lay around and possibly watch Adventure Time on Netflix while I drink hot chocolate (shout out to Trader Joe's for making a delicious, organic instant mix. You know what I want, TJ. You always do. <3). IS THAT SO MUCH TO ASK FOR?!
Well, not really, I suppose. Sure, I have to work at a job and make my own money and drive myself places instead of my mom taking me and tell the doctor why I don't feel well by myself and pay for my own computer repairs (mental note: call Apple already and ask them how much it's going to cost to replace your stupid battery) and cook my own food every once in a while but that doesn't mean I can't do all my childish things, right? Just because I've passed into the 'legal adult' territory age-wise doesn't mean I'm not allowed to do the things I used to. It's silly to think that way, and yet, I've had those thoughts before.
I guess I've realized that I've previously put so much pressure on myself to be 'adult-like' all the time, 24 hours a day, even before I was really considered an adult. I think that's silly. I shouldn't have to conform to 'mature' ideals just because I'm now legally considered an adult. My mother is 50 years old and we still jump in mud puddles together like we're both 5 year old kids. And that's great! It's fun! Life should be fun!! (Insert cliche, overdone ~life is too short~ quote that I wholeheartedly live by.)
Basically, adulthood has always scared me because it gave me visions of pencil skirts paired with comfortable yet ugly shoes and an office job that gave me no creative freedom whatsoever and made me conform to a cookie-cutter ideal. Now that I'm legally an adult, I realize that's not a guaranteed fate nor is it a death sentence. It's just a less than ideal way of living my life. I've also realized that I'm in my first year of college, and while job hunting and internships are not far from a reality, I've also got some time.
So I guess I can continue to eat organic snack foods and drink tea and binge watch House of Cards. Adults do these things too. Becoming an adult doesn't mean you're done doing your favorite things. It just means that you have to add in responsibilities to the mix too, as much as you don't want to. Now that I'm done rambling (and posting for the second day in a row, HEYO!), I'm going to go organize my room (maybe), finish this hot chocolate, and maybe take a nap with my cats. Or just watch endless YouTube videos, like usual. Who knows. I've done all my responsible, 'adult' things for today.
Adulthood is this weird thing to me. Suddenly, once you turn 18, POOF, you can no longer be tried as a juvenile (not that I have plans to commit a crime or anything) and you suddenly have all these responsibilities thrust upon you like voting and driving yourself to the doctor and making your own damn appointments (which terrifies me, but we're slowly working on it). But in all honesty, I just want to lay around and possibly watch Adventure Time on Netflix while I drink hot chocolate (shout out to Trader Joe's for making a delicious, organic instant mix. You know what I want, TJ. You always do. <3). IS THAT SO MUCH TO ASK FOR?!
Well, not really, I suppose. Sure, I have to work at a job and make my own money and drive myself places instead of my mom taking me and tell the doctor why I don't feel well by myself and pay for my own computer repairs (mental note: call Apple already and ask them how much it's going to cost to replace your stupid battery) and cook my own food every once in a while but that doesn't mean I can't do all my childish things, right? Just because I've passed into the 'legal adult' territory age-wise doesn't mean I'm not allowed to do the things I used to. It's silly to think that way, and yet, I've had those thoughts before.
I guess I've realized that I've previously put so much pressure on myself to be 'adult-like' all the time, 24 hours a day, even before I was really considered an adult. I think that's silly. I shouldn't have to conform to 'mature' ideals just because I'm now legally considered an adult. My mother is 50 years old and we still jump in mud puddles together like we're both 5 year old kids. And that's great! It's fun! Life should be fun!! (Insert cliche, overdone ~life is too short~ quote that I wholeheartedly live by.)
Basically, adulthood has always scared me because it gave me visions of pencil skirts paired with comfortable yet ugly shoes and an office job that gave me no creative freedom whatsoever and made me conform to a cookie-cutter ideal. Now that I'm legally an adult, I realize that's not a guaranteed fate nor is it a death sentence. It's just a less than ideal way of living my life. I've also realized that I'm in my first year of college, and while job hunting and internships are not far from a reality, I've also got some time.
So I guess I can continue to eat organic snack foods and drink tea and binge watch House of Cards. Adults do these things too. Becoming an adult doesn't mean you're done doing your favorite things. It just means that you have to add in responsibilities to the mix too, as much as you don't want to. Now that I'm done rambling (and posting for the second day in a row, HEYO!), I'm going to go organize my room (maybe), finish this hot chocolate, and maybe take a nap with my cats. Or just watch endless YouTube videos, like usual. Who knows. I've done all my responsible, 'adult' things for today.
new year, new me~
I actually really hate that saying. I, like many other people in the world, believe that change and the New Year shouldn't be mutually exclusive. However, it seems like a greater population of people do share that belief, as it's now obvious to me that the US (and other places, I'm sure) have made a market out of New Year's resolutions. I could insert some cynical, jaded line about how everything is being made into a market, but it's almost midnight and I'm feeling airy for once, so forgive me, my cynicism is down at the moment.
I guess, in a way, I do have a resolution or two. Firstly, I'd like to be more forgiving of myself this year. I spent far too much time in 2014 being hyper critical of myself for all the wrong reasons, and as someone who has an anxiety disorder, sometimes I'm not sure if it just comes with the territory or if I'm too hard on myself. Either way, I have to start letting small things go and allowing myself to breathe, even when I make mistakes. As much as I try to pretend I'm a well-dressed robot with no emotional spectrum, the truth is, I am a human. A human with emotions and feelings that sometimes get hurt, mostly by my own thoughts because LOL I'm my own worst enemy. Hopefully, I'll back off on myself in 2015. At least just a little.
Secondly, as vain as it is, I'd like to wear more lipstick. This whole blog was inspired by orange lipstick and my love for it, because I've found that orange is a great color for me (but only on my lips). For an 18 year old college kid, I have a massive lipstick collection. Like, massive. I'm talking more than a dozen tubes, most of which are barely used. They sit in their drawer, saddened by the fact that most of them never see the light of day more than twice a year. Usually, I have the same 3 lipsticks in rotation because I'm too lazy in the morning to manage more than mascara and a little under-eye concealer. And now that I'm in college and like to sleep until the very last second (another thing that must change going into spring semester), my use of lipstick has dwindled even more.
Part of me thinks that my use of lipstick, or lack thereof, had something to do with my confidence level or my hope to fit in. When I went away to college this fall, I told myself that I would stick to guns and make friends with people who share the same interests as me. And while I did make friends with people who are super cool and I would definitely see myself in five years with getting drinks, I realized, as I was moving in, I hardly brought anything that screamed "HERE I AM WORLD I AM MATTEA HEAR ME ROAR". Everything was pretty plain. Sure, my giant Ramones poster kind of stuck out at first, but then it fell off the wall and I never did hang it back up. (Note to self: hang it back up, you lazy shit. It's not that hard.) I didn't bring my records (which is going to change when I go back), I didn't bring many momentos besides books, and I had very little with me that expressed my identity and self besides clothes and music on my iPod. Visually, my dorm started out very lackluster and non-expressive (which has since then changed as I became more comfortable at school and with my surroundings and people). But, I didn't try to be 'too' out of the box. I still dressed the way I liked to, but it wasn't anything daring, like I used to pull in high school. I'm definitely going to have to break out my bright red kilt next semester.
I also found myself playing it safe, especially with makeup and clothes. I was never like that in my last two years of high school; I wore what I wanted and did what I wanted because that's who I was and I couldn't give less of a fuck who opposed. I even dashed away to Canada for my 17th birthday so I could get a tattoo done because I'm a ~rebel~ (not), and spent the next two weeks giving the finger to everyone who questioned me. I guess my mom has always harbored that mentality in me, in the smallest ways, and I love her for it. If I come home with a half sleeve, I'm sure she'll protest and ask "What about a job, Mattea? What then?!", but until then, I'm sure anything I do is passable. Except a tongue piercing. That'll always be a no-bueno in my mom's book.
But in college, I guess I subconsciously wanted to fit in and make friends with everyone because this was my chance. Growing up in a small town, you make your friend groups early and infiltrating them after a set date (usually the start of high school) is hard. Not impossible, but it's pretty tricky. So, being new at college, I wanted to be 'cool' and have lots of 'cool' college friends. But now that my first semester is done with, I've realized something; literally no one cares if you're conventionally 'cool' or not. Conventionally 'cool' isn't even a thing past high school. There is no strict definition anymore.
I repeat: NO ONE CARES IF YOU'RE WEIRD. So now that I've realized that I can be weird and expressive and break out in song and dance with my equally as weird friends who like to stay up late and listen to 60's music while we contemplate the meaning of life, I've decided that lipstick must enter my life in full force once again. I brought quite a few of my lipsticks to school with me, but have managed to get very little use out of them. I've also just realized that I went on a long tangent about lipstick and self-confidence and identity and I'm unsure of how we got here, but I like it. Also, my cats are yowling at each other and it baffles me how cats can be so unaware of time. They literally don't care. They'll yowl and play at 3 a.m, they don't care. I sometimes wish cats knew about bed times and common courtesy.
Lastly, I'd like to blog more. This is probably going to be the hardest resolution to keep up with, because I'm horrible, lazy, POS blogger who tries to convince herself she 'doesn't have time' and 'can't keep up with a blog' but in all reality, I'm just a procrastinator who needs to schedule her time better. (Yet another thing that must change.) I'm not going to promise this blog will be updated, but with the amount of things running around my head as of late, I'm sure it'll be updated enough. I hope. Maybe I'll say a little prayer for myself. That'll probably do it. (Who am I kidding? Not even Jesus himself could perform the miracle that is instilling motivation in me.)
Now that I've spent an ample amount of time writing this blog post and rambling on about fucking lipstick, it's time for me to go back to the reality of training a kitten not to be a pain in the ass 24 hours a day. She's cute and all (maybe pictures to come?) but nose biting at 6 a.m is not. Wish me luck. I'm going to need it. I also need to go to bed because I have responsibilities that need to be tended to tomorrow. ZOMG adulthood~~ so much fun.
I guess, in a way, I do have a resolution or two. Firstly, I'd like to be more forgiving of myself this year. I spent far too much time in 2014 being hyper critical of myself for all the wrong reasons, and as someone who has an anxiety disorder, sometimes I'm not sure if it just comes with the territory or if I'm too hard on myself. Either way, I have to start letting small things go and allowing myself to breathe, even when I make mistakes. As much as I try to pretend I'm a well-dressed robot with no emotional spectrum, the truth is, I am a human. A human with emotions and feelings that sometimes get hurt, mostly by my own thoughts because LOL I'm my own worst enemy. Hopefully, I'll back off on myself in 2015. At least just a little.
Secondly, as vain as it is, I'd like to wear more lipstick. This whole blog was inspired by orange lipstick and my love for it, because I've found that orange is a great color for me (but only on my lips). For an 18 year old college kid, I have a massive lipstick collection. Like, massive. I'm talking more than a dozen tubes, most of which are barely used. They sit in their drawer, saddened by the fact that most of them never see the light of day more than twice a year. Usually, I have the same 3 lipsticks in rotation because I'm too lazy in the morning to manage more than mascara and a little under-eye concealer. And now that I'm in college and like to sleep until the very last second (another thing that must change going into spring semester), my use of lipstick has dwindled even more.
Part of me thinks that my use of lipstick, or lack thereof, had something to do with my confidence level or my hope to fit in. When I went away to college this fall, I told myself that I would stick to guns and make friends with people who share the same interests as me. And while I did make friends with people who are super cool and I would definitely see myself in five years with getting drinks, I realized, as I was moving in, I hardly brought anything that screamed "HERE I AM WORLD I AM MATTEA HEAR ME ROAR". Everything was pretty plain. Sure, my giant Ramones poster kind of stuck out at first, but then it fell off the wall and I never did hang it back up. (Note to self: hang it back up, you lazy shit. It's not that hard.) I didn't bring my records (which is going to change when I go back), I didn't bring many momentos besides books, and I had very little with me that expressed my identity and self besides clothes and music on my iPod. Visually, my dorm started out very lackluster and non-expressive (which has since then changed as I became more comfortable at school and with my surroundings and people). But, I didn't try to be 'too' out of the box. I still dressed the way I liked to, but it wasn't anything daring, like I used to pull in high school. I'm definitely going to have to break out my bright red kilt next semester.
I also found myself playing it safe, especially with makeup and clothes. I was never like that in my last two years of high school; I wore what I wanted and did what I wanted because that's who I was and I couldn't give less of a fuck who opposed. I even dashed away to Canada for my 17th birthday so I could get a tattoo done because I'm a ~rebel~ (not), and spent the next two weeks giving the finger to everyone who questioned me. I guess my mom has always harbored that mentality in me, in the smallest ways, and I love her for it. If I come home with a half sleeve, I'm sure she'll protest and ask "What about a job, Mattea? What then?!", but until then, I'm sure anything I do is passable. Except a tongue piercing. That'll always be a no-bueno in my mom's book.
But in college, I guess I subconsciously wanted to fit in and make friends with everyone because this was my chance. Growing up in a small town, you make your friend groups early and infiltrating them after a set date (usually the start of high school) is hard. Not impossible, but it's pretty tricky. So, being new at college, I wanted to be 'cool' and have lots of 'cool' college friends. But now that my first semester is done with, I've realized something; literally no one cares if you're conventionally 'cool' or not. Conventionally 'cool' isn't even a thing past high school. There is no strict definition anymore.
I repeat: NO ONE CARES IF YOU'RE WEIRD. So now that I've realized that I can be weird and expressive and break out in song and dance with my equally as weird friends who like to stay up late and listen to 60's music while we contemplate the meaning of life, I've decided that lipstick must enter my life in full force once again. I brought quite a few of my lipsticks to school with me, but have managed to get very little use out of them. I've also just realized that I went on a long tangent about lipstick and self-confidence and identity and I'm unsure of how we got here, but I like it. Also, my cats are yowling at each other and it baffles me how cats can be so unaware of time. They literally don't care. They'll yowl and play at 3 a.m, they don't care. I sometimes wish cats knew about bed times and common courtesy.
Lastly, I'd like to blog more. This is probably going to be the hardest resolution to keep up with, because I'm horrible, lazy, POS blogger who tries to convince herself she 'doesn't have time' and 'can't keep up with a blog' but in all reality, I'm just a procrastinator who needs to schedule her time better. (Yet another thing that must change.) I'm not going to promise this blog will be updated, but with the amount of things running around my head as of late, I'm sure it'll be updated enough. I hope. Maybe I'll say a little prayer for myself. That'll probably do it. (Who am I kidding? Not even Jesus himself could perform the miracle that is instilling motivation in me.)
Now that I've spent an ample amount of time writing this blog post and rambling on about fucking lipstick, it's time for me to go back to the reality of training a kitten not to be a pain in the ass 24 hours a day. She's cute and all (maybe pictures to come?) but nose biting at 6 a.m is not. Wish me luck. I'm going to need it. I also need to go to bed because I have responsibilities that need to be tended to tomorrow. ZOMG adulthood~~ so much fun.
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