Life is wonderful in over 100 other ways.
-living on my own in NYC for the first time ever
-job at a research institution that really makes me want to learn more
-roommate that isn’t afraid to kill roaches
-i’m building credit (lol)
-I graduated, oh yeah.
-i won a chipotle gift card
-i have access to the roof of my building
other things. too tired. but things are wonderful in general .
I have this picture of you on my iPhone. You’re posing with my roommate because you asked her to. Oh wait, I’m pretty sure your words were “take a picture with me,” and not “can you take a photo with me?”
I accidentally took two photos. In the first one, my roommate is smiling. In the second one, the distance between the two of you has decreased drastically, and she her eyebrows are raised and your smile is enormous.
I guess this post deserves context, (but you don’t really deserve context). My roommate and I made plans to tackle laundry together. We’ve lived in our new apartment for one month, and things were getting critical. The errand felt so grand and scary that we planned this an entire day in advance. I even thought about it at work. I even declined an outing for this. This was some real shit.
Fast forward hours and we are waiting for our clothes to dry. I’m twirling because I’m bored and telling stories, and YOU arrive. You ruin the moment. After saying “no, I don’t want to take a picture with you,” does not get you to leave us alone, I just give in, thinking that this will stop you. You tell me not to look so distrusting. After the picture, you tell me that if we run away, you could chase us, and that THAT is why it is good to exercise. You tell us not to rush when we shovel our damp clothing into our laundry bags because we want to leave. I tell you I need to be up early because I don’t have the guts to tell you that you’re making me uncomfortable.
You make me uncomfortable. When you said “I could chase you,” I let you watch my face drop but I really wanted to say “don’t you dare chase me. If I run it’s because you make me uncomfortable.” But I didn’t.
Unfortunately, this is no isolated incident. For a long time, I thought I was shy and perhaps too polite to not say anything in these situations. But tonight I realized that the reality is far worse.
You scare me.
And that is why I can never say anything besides “sorry, I have to go. Have a good night, okay?”
= NO UPDATE.
It has been two weeks. I haven’t heard no, and I haven’t heard yes. To be fair, I did not officially APPLY for the job, so maybe there’s a lot of red tape and this really isn’t the end all. fingers crossed. This is my ticket back to NYC.
But also, maybe I shouldn’t have started with “well I used to watch Oprah,” when the doctor asked me how I got interested in schizophrenia. And maybe I should’ve removed my eyebrow piercing. UGH. #wordvomit #learning.
(and maybe that bar will call me. I left my number on TWO receipts and expressed interest in bartending with clovers drawn all over my face. PROMISING?? no)
Real life is so not a joke..
25 days to crank out this thesis, be in a play, dance in two shows, ace an orgo midterm. Um. two tech weeks and a midterm before theses?
who does that????
ME, THAT’S WHO.
Remind me to never overbook like this again, EXCEPT OH WAIT, I’M A SECOND SEMESTER SENIOR, THIS WAS MY LAST CHANCE NOT TO.
coffee. marshmallow bars. starbucks. It will be okay.
|Incoming Text:||This is my new number|
|My reply:||Sorry, who is this? I lost a lot of contacts.|
|(My thoughts:||Mon? Monica? Mom??)|
|Text:||Yes we went to China together||Oh, THAT mom.|
Interviewer/MD: “So.. are you trying to go into science or something?”
.. let’s ponder that for a hot second.
You are one fucking gorgeous city.
Moving back? Moving back. Well, if this whole job interview thing goes really well. All the fingers crossed.
I have had a headache for the past three days. I thought I was just hung over, but Sunday ended days ago, and I have become pretty good at avoiding my hangovers. I’ve started to have water parties at 3 AM, usually by myself, sometimes with others, and sometimes with others and with pasta.
I used to think that I could google search all of the answers. This has helped me a lot, and maybe even people around me. I learned how to hard-boil an egg, but not before messing up the first time. I once told a classmate that he probably had appendicitis, and he did.
When I was a pre-teen, I googled my emotions and I felt so explained. Google told me that if you cross your legs a certain way, it means you like someone. I thought about that when I first crushed on a boy in my latin class. So it didn’t work, but at the time, I felt like google at least provided me with a behavioral protocol (a horrifying concept now.) I haven’t done this in a long time. (googling things I mean). Maybe I’ve just felt wholesome in college. But that can’t be true, not if you look at everything that I’ve done to become wholesome. So I’m not sure why I stopped googling my emotions, but I know that recently I have wanted to.
I think that at age twenty-one, I am a lot more complicated, or I have at least realized that I am more complicated. I just want to understand why some things are painful, like my headaches. I found out on google that my headaches have been caused by my teeth clenching habit. I do this whole clenching thing when I sleep. I’m surprised that I sleep enough for this to even matter. I’m kidding, but I’m not totally kidding. I’ve opened google chrome’s “incognito” window at least twice tonight, because I’m too embarrassed to have “how to accept things” or “why can’t I put career goals before people” in my search history. But I haven’t even gotten that far, because I’m almost certain that there is no satisfying answer.
I haven’t written on tumblr for a long time because I don’t think that anyone reads what I write. I wouldn’t read what I write. This post belongs in a notebook, but I lose my notebooks. Every single one. I lost an 80 page reading for tomorrow, so instead I am drying my eyes out in front of a laptop. (My opthamologist said that my dry eyes explain my decline in eyesight at night. Unfortunately, I lost the bottle of eyedrops he prescribed… and the slip with prescription information).
But I know why I am posting this. I am posting this because sometimes I go through my tumblr archive. I read about my reflections from age 19 and I can’t believe that I used to think so much of the world. I miss finding meaning in everything.
Right now, I want to graduate because I’ve gotten a lot out of Wesleyan. I want to leave Wesleyan with this healthy impression of my undergraduate education. I do not want the master’s degree that this place is offering me, for free. But who the hell gives up a FREE master’s degree for … well see, I don’t even have a plan B. The restaurant I worked at for years back in New York City shut down. I have a bedroom in Queens, and I have parents that ponder my future daily. I have friends who are going to go places because they are ready to float on with no anchor (something that I loved for so long that I now find less and less appealing every minute of the day), or because they want to pursue graduate education right away, or because they have found year-long employment someplace new.
I’m clenching my teeth as I write this, so I should probably go eat some vanilla yogurt so that I stop, and because it is my favorite. This is the first time I’ve felt truly negative about my future and about the rest of my senior year. I KNOW that I won’t feel this way forever, so I’m ARCHIVING this lil emotion, so I can remember that this happens.