my apartment looking like a real home and me “smizing.” I really was smiling.. for the camera.

my apartment looking like a real home and me “smizing.” I really was smiling.. for the camera.

life.

(Source: murinal)

in other news…

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 .

hearts.

Dear Creep,

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.

Fuck you.

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?” 

- Rachel

just had my first good bye

and “have a good life.”

no no no. stop.

updates on my job interview

= 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..

tumblr thesis meltdown #1

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.

Stay tuned.

Incoming Text:This is my new number
My reply:Sorry, who is this? I lost a lot of contacts.
Text:Mon
(My thoughts:Mon? Monica? Mom??)
My reply:Mommy???
Text:Yes we went to China together
Oh, THAT mom.
My interview for research position at a NEUROSCIENCE lab.

Interviewer/MD: “So.. are you trying to go into science or something?”

.. let’s ponder that for a hot second.

New York City

You are one fucking gorgeous city.

Moving back? Moving back. Well, if this whole job interview thing goes really well. All the fingers crossed.