Chapter 78: Work!

i have been particularly lacking in the blog posts as of late due to my new job! it's been almost two weeks since i started this job (wow, time flies), and all i can say is that i have never been more thankful for this opportunity. in this time of economic and personal downfall, saying that one loves her job is truly a luxury, but one that i am so lucky to have. sure, the commute might be exhausting and the idea of truly being in the real world a pain, but i am one of the few who get to walk into her office with a genuine smile on my face.

now back to our scheduled programming.

Chapter 75: The first day of the rest of my life.

i hate this saying. i've heard it in so many speeches and read it in cards and i'm tired of it. who determined that everything done before that day was worthless?

i remember it most clearly being said on the day of my high school graduation. some dignitary or another said this line in his recycled speech that he used every year. i sat there and realized i was highly insulted. the rest of my life was to be determined by what i had done so far, so how could i forget it so quickly

isn't it better to remember where it is that we come from? granted, there are certain things in my own past that i don't care to revisit, but those have made me who i am. and keeps me remembering who i don't want to be.

Chapter 74: A change in the winds

when i was around 7 years old, i got lost in my local supermarket. i went in with my mother and somehow, my attention was diverted towards an object that must have been shiny or pink or both and i wandered away. upon looking back, my mother was gone, along with any sense of familiarity with my surroundings. the dairy aisle become a foreboding land and i did what anyone would have done in that situation: i started to cry and wandered around until i saw the light of the open door.

well, don't worry, my mother found me and i was all safe again because i knew where i was and where i was going. it's interesting how much security we get from knowing what comes next in life. recently, i've lost that sense of security as i've wandered through aisles of classifieds and job postings, trying to figure out where i'm going.

things have changed today, and certainly for the better. there is once again a purpose to my life, a direction in which i'm going. and it feels amazing to know where tomorrow will lead.

Chapter 73: The last page of a book

i've never believed in looking at the last page of a book until i've earned it. i should not be allowed to know the final outcome without having poured over each page, each sentence, each plot twist or dragging monologue. my reward for all of it is the end, the finale, the point when everything finally comes together and there is a bigger picture that i can finally see. i've always kept this rule with the utmost severity.

but only with books. i've found that in nearly every other aspect of the life, i either don't care about the ending or find that i might prefer to know what's going to happen. maybe it's a way to prepare myself; i'm not sure. with movies, for example, i might sometimes like to know the ending so that i can pick out the nuances that point to that outcome that are inevitable embedded within the plot. i like to predict.

the one place that i'm dying for a peek into the future is the one place i can't get it. then again, that's the funny thing about life.

Chapter 72: You should be a judge...

apparently, i have a very judging look about me. i attribute this to my very large indian eyes that show more expression than they should. i could be merely looking at someone, and that someone accuses me of judging them. is it my fault that i just happened to be looking at you as you took your 9th shot of the night, and stumbled away from the bar only to introduce your face to the beer covered floor? nope, definitely not judging you.

it appears to me that it's not my judgment that people are truly worried about. how many times has the following thoughts gone through your mind when you're, let's just say, in the elevator?
"oh dear, that woman is looking at me. why is she looking at me? shit, it's this shirt. i knew it was too tight. damn it, i could fit into it last week. what the hell happened? what did i eat? i need to lose 10 pounds. ugh and it doesn't match with this skirt, does it? i should have worn pants. shit, she's still looking."

meanwhile, that woman happens to be thinking:
"crap, i have so much to do today. shit, why is that woman looking at me..."

yea, guess what? as a very good friend's mother puts it, sadly, "no one really cares about you that much." except you, of course.

so is it really about me? or have i merely been looking at a person at the exact moment when he/she (oh yes, apparently my judgment extends to men, as well) is judging him/herself with the utmost scrutiny? we know how hard we are on ourselves, so God-forbid that some other person happens to peak in on this self-flagellation or (gasp!) agree with us. what would we truly do at that point when our worst fears are confirmed, as apparently some seem to think that my look is doing. i am not at all immune to this behavior because those who judge others are even better at judging themselves.

when did the word judgment become so negative? there are many times that i find myself judging some one's positive attributes, like a great pair of shoes or the way someone walks with so much confidence. rather than focusing on what i'm not, i think i'm going to try to focus on what i am, and make sure that what i am is great.

Chapter 71: The wind in my hair

when i was in the fifth grade, i was a master bike rider. i was no lance armstrong, but i was pretty awesome. i had a red, six speed bike and i could literally ride it anywhere but inside my house. the driveway, side walk, street, lawn, up grassy knolls, down steep piles of dirt made by the construction on the house down the street. i love the feeling of being able to ride anywhere.

most of all, however, it was my time to think. this was when i could be alone and think about all the troubles that i was having. you might be wondering to yourself, "what on earth could possibly trouble a fifth grader?" many many things. we like to think of our childhood as simpler time; however, we were just as stressed out back then as we are today. that which troubled us during our childhood doesn't seem very important now because we hold it to the standards that we have today, but is it fair to compare the two? ok so maybe the fact that i hadn't seen titanic yet when everyone else in my class had already seen it twice doesn't seem like a big deal, but it was. my friends would move away to talk about it, i was always out of the conversation, my teachers even made references to the movie while teaching that i didn't understand. leo and kate were these really cool people who everyone knew but me, and i was made sure of that fact. i was ostracized, something difficult for a fifth grader to deal with.

regardless, all of these problems would be mulled over while on my bike. i could ride as fast as i wanted and imagine the worry blown out of my mind and out through my flowing hair behind me. the faster i sped, the farther i could get away. away from fifth grade politics and lanyard bracelet wars and my lack of capris. and it always worked. i came back from all of that just fine. i survived the fifth grade, and it seems as if bike riding was my answer.

i recently took up bike riding again and it felt like i was back in elementary school. i felt so free and light on it that i didn't want to get off, exactly like the old days. maybe this is the key to my stress relief and my fifth grade had it right. take some time, ride like the wind, and leave all my troubles behind. it's a theory that i am very willing to test out.

Chapter 70: God laughs.

i am a firm believer in agendas and organization. i've never been able to get anything done in my life without a constant reminder of the things i need to do next. this craze started in high school when our school district decided to give out free agendas. i was so hooked on mine that is a task wasn't written down, it wouldn't be done. it was as simple as that.

even now, my room is filled with dry erase boards, chalk boards, and cork boards while my computer has a post-it app - all to remind me of the things i need to do in life. until now, my life has been perfectly planned out, nearly down to the minute, and all these amenities helped me to stay on task with that goal.

until now, that is. it's completely alarming when suddenly, all those carefully laid plans have disintegrated. all that time i spent in even making the lists and reminders seems like wasted time when my plans have to change. it's not about being inflexible, it's about being prepared. despite how much one may do to prepare for the worst and for everything that could possibly go bad, there is always something that is forgotten. and it will be that exact something that comes up.

then again, maybe this is explains more about me than i thought. i never had an interest in math because a+b=c. always. there was never a day when a+b equaled x, or b could take a break while k took its place. i preferred english because multiple choice exams, the exam of choice for those who like predictability, were my downfall. i excelled at exam essays because any answer was right, as long as it's supported.

perhaps predictably isn't in my nature, and therefore, not in my life. rather than making lists and plans for life, i should just live. as they say, we make plans and God laughs.

Chapter 69: Recessionista.

no blog would be very hip and happening (do people still say that?) today if it didn't mention the recession. it's everywhere: in tv commercials that start off with "these days, it's important to...", in the newspapers and news channels, even on your paycheck. or lack thereof. it's impossible to turn the corner or simply stroll down the street without the recession sneaking up on you, one way or another.

even webster's is getting a make over with words like "recessionista" popping up. according to the nytimes, this refers to "the style maven on a budget" (article here). basically, there are women out there who refuse to give up style for financial difficulties. even in an economic crisis, fashionistas everywhere are still making an effort to look effortless.

to be honest, this is the healthiest reaction to the recession i've seen yet. i'm not saying that we should refuse to accept what's happened and put our heads in the sand, and neither are these women. they're adapting to their surroundings, something humans have lost the ability to do. we're used to running in, taking over, and depleting the resources around us. and yet, evolutionarily speaking, we've done pretty well so far, so what could possibly be stopping us now?

today, a recession is the equivalent of an ice age or sudden global warming: an unwelcome change in our surroundings that makes us re-evaluate our lives and living situations. we wake up one morning, and suddenly, the world is not the way we left it when we went to sleep the night before. so shouldn't we be dealing with this the way homo-sapiens have for ages? we adapt, we make the best of the situation, we survive, and we go on. we may not be as resilient as the cockroach, per se, but we are pretty good. if even style can withstand the recession, imagine our possibilities.

Chapter 68: Home.

i have an address that i put down under the category of "home." it's a standard address with the house number, street, city, state and zip code. after having put it down so many times on job applications these days, i'm starting to get that feeling when you've looked at a word for too long. it just doesn't seem quite right anymore.

but maybe it's not because i've been looking at it for too long, but because i'm seeing it for the first time. is this home? this quintessential house in suburbia that i remember as the place where i fought to be noticed as the middle child and fought the enemy of teenage-dom known as acne, the place where i was never sure of myself or what the outside world contained. considering that we are a society that always notices the bad, why do we put so much emphasis on home when some of our hardest days are spent in that very place? doubts about who we are, what we can do, self-image, self worth all arise in the home, according to freud. so why such an emphasis on "home is where the heart is?"

one thing that college has taught me is the transience of this label. one month into my freshmen year, i started calling my impersonal-and-lacking-any-kind-of-privacy dorm room home. i remember the shock on my parents face when it slipped out one weekend they were visiting. i could see the hurt in my mom's face so i quickly took it back. the worst part that made me feel even guiltier? i meant it.

home for me has become so much more than four walls that hold my memories. home is now defined by people, places, emotions, and so much more. memories with significance have become my home, not the place where those significant memories were made.

then again, i have the luxury of speaking this way because i do have a place to return every night. meanwhile, those people with thousands of amazing experiences long for a place to call home. everyone knows that children are better off with a permanent set of walls. and even with this job search, i'm certain that being able to fill out the lines under "address" makes me a better candidate that someone who can't. this, too, is a result of my home, where i was taught to never settle for the hand i've been given.

Chapter 67: Alumnus.

returning to one's alma mater is an interesting experience. i didn't quite expect how conflicted i would feel when i stepped back on to the campus of the university of pennsylvania last week after having graduated from there in may. on the one hand, i was thrilled to be back at the place where i i felt so free, so light, so like myself. college was, for me, the first place i was ever free to really be myself. i'm sure many other people equate college with freedom, but i'm not talking about the freedom that comes from binge drinking and partying. i mean the feeling of finding your interests and who you would like to be one day.

on the other hand, i was miffed at it's sudden change of heart. after four years of loyalty, that very same alma mater gave me my two weeks notice and told me to get the hell out. i'm not sure i can ever forgive it for ruthlessly and unceremoniously throwing me out to make room for its new lover, the class of 2013. (don't bother doing the math, they are young. let's just leave it at that.)

the first thing i realized? i'd forgotten things. getting out of the subway, i was suddenly very unsure of where i was and where i was going. were the streets the same? the stores? the people? i wasn't sure, but 5 seconds later, my feet grew accustomed and started walking to where i needed to go. never did i think that i would forget those places there seemed ingrained into my very skin.

i hate to say it, but i guess college was a temporary state of mind. i think i only realized that once i went back and suddenly, i didn't belong. time to move on, it seems.

Chapter 66: Almost.

i hate the word "almost." to me, it's the equivalent of a kick in the crotch AFTER getting a right hook to the face and subsequent black eye. not only is the fact that you didn't get something being referenced, but it's also saying that you would have gotten what it is you wanted... except you didn't.

almost doesn't really make anything better so no one should be allowed to say it. to say that one "almost won a prize" essentially means that he or she didn't win. wasn't that the objective? it's wasn't to be in second place, but to be in first. there are really no compromises in that arena: the opposite of winning is losing, not almost winning.

Chapter 65: Charity

what truly constitutes as charity? to be honest, this is something that has always interested me, ever since i started seeing those "adopt this child in a third world country" ads on tv. i always felt so awful seeing those small small children who clearly had so much less than i did.

and yet, part of me was skeptical. how did i know for sure that all the money i was sending away was being sent right to that little girl or boy who needs my help? i didn't. for all i knew, 2 cents of every dollar was actually being given to help, or 98 cents of my dollar was being given to help.

does seeing the effects of one's charity make a difference? unfortunately, it does. in this day, we need to see the fruits of our labors, charity and otherwise. not knowing all the facts makes us cynical, then mistrusting, and finally unwilling to help. but have we considered that maybe it's the fact that we're helping at all that counts? we haven't because the sentiment of "even one person can make a difference" has been erased from our cliches of thought. we all had that experience of being a child and working so hard to make a change only to be let down in the worst way possible. maybe it was a lemonade stand to raise money for a cause, maybe it was trying to help out a neighbor during the summer, anything. not only were we let down by the lack of follow through, but we were taught from that moment on that success is only the measure of the product of our work.

as we've grown older, this idea has only been further enhanced by each stage of our life. success in high school means a diploma, in college it's a degree, in life it's a job and a family. with a charity, success is seeing the change we sought out to bring. for some this mantra might still hold true, but i'm beginning to realize that success is really the growth of something. for all i know, my 2 cents can do a lot more out there in the world than in my pocket, and that's a risk i'm willing to take.

Chapter 64: Titan.

we've all learned in greek mythology that at one point, titans ruled the land. these creatures were giant in size and their power seemed absolute. their steps shook the highest of mountains and their voices caused the winds to blow. they were seemingly indestructible as there was no one in the world who was as great as they were. each titan was ruler over a natural element, such as the ocean or the moon or memory, and each ruled well. thus, the age of the titans is known as the golden era because it was an era of simplicity and goodness.

despite what they seemed to be, even titans could fall. it took the strength and guile of zeus, his mother, and many other beings to take them down, but they did. and down the titans went, deep into the nadir that is known as tartarus.

i'm not sure if anyone today can say that they have lived in a golden era of anything. we are each plagued by the terrors of society in our own ways. but one thing we can all say for sure is that today, a titan has fallen.

this one started as a boy and grew into a titan before our eyes. his talent was giant in size and his power over people seemed absolute. his dance steps shook the highest mountains of racism and segregation, and his voice caused the winds of change to blow. he was seemingly indestructible as there is and was and will never be anyone who is as great as he. his natural element was his song, his voice; he ruled it exceptionally.

and today, he fell. but unlike those greek titans who fell down, this titan managed to fall up. up to own his rightful place among the stars so that one day, far from now, stories and legends will be told of his greatness. one day, people will bask in the light of his talent. one day, someone will lose his faith and look up for guidance. and on that day, he will remember that anything is possible.

RIP Michael Jackson. May he rest in peace among the stars.

Chapter 63: Let's move on.

there are moments in my life when i just don't want to talk. it's nothing anyone should take personally because sometimes, i just don't want to talk about what is bothering me at that particular moment. i know that talking things out can be good for the soul and all, but i don't think this should be considered a rule of thumb. it's my problem, and it's my decision to keep it as my problem.

it should also not be construed as selfish when i attempt to keep these things to myself. rather, it should be considered a compliment that i decided not to ruin your day by unleashing my list of complaints and disasters into your world that five minutes ago seemed quite good. i am not keeping things from you, i am saving you from a life of negativity. besides, this will past as mostly all bad moods pass. i'd rather not prolong it by continuing to talk about it. doesn't that just make more sense?

Chapter 62: Masks

(440): why doesn't he love me? i have tried everything. i even sang to him after sex.
(1-440): you have got to be kidding?

the text exchange comes from from the absolutely hilarious textsfromlastnight.com where we get to share those wonderfully inappropriate texts we sometimes think it's appropriate to send. of course, our perceptions may be altered due to the effects of certain substances some of us like to consume, but regardless, something in us tells us that being completely honest at all times is a good thing.

maybe it isn't substances but something we've always been told, ever since we've been kids. "be open and honest." "don't lie." "if you have nothing nice to say, don't say anything at all." --wait, really? when the co-worker we don't know really well comes in on monday morning with a haircut that is undoubtedly a mullet and stands in front of our desk begging for our opinion, it is perfectly acceptable to say nothing? uh, i think not.

i can honestly say that there are situations where white lies are appropriate:
does this make me look fat?
no.

do you like my parents?
yes

is that girl hotter than me?
what girl?

in these cases, it's not about the deceit but about how you want someone else to feel for a second. what's so bad about cheering someone up about something superficial? now, this doesn't extend to the serious things in life, like not telling a partner that you've cheated because you want them to "feel good." but this is in reference to those quick moments when we have the power in our hands to make someone's day a little brighter. just take that opportunity. i'd rather have my co-worker believe that she does look ok despite the hours she probably spent over her hair in the mirror, agonizing over her new mullet. why would i add to the depth that her self-esteem has reached? rather, i'll tell her she looks amazing and watch her walk back to her desk relieved. and besides, hair will always grow back.

Chapter 61: Your face is a bit puffy.

i have a friend who is a true hypochondriac. i'm talking about truly the essence of the word. during our sophomore year of college, she postulated that the pain she was feeling in her forehead was, in fact, the effects of a brain tumor that would ultimately lead to her tragic demise. i don't think she considered that it was just a headache. from her own diagnosis )and with a little help from webmd), she diagnosed herself with hiv, cancer, and even the plague. that's right, i mean bubonic.

though these are very serious illnesses, it is hilarious. everyone knows that entering "stomach ache" into a medical site like webmd will lead to suggestions that range from food poisoning to chlamydia to arthritis. and if you happen to be a girl? apparently pregnancy can cause every symptom known to man.

Chapter 60: Starting over.

i've found that this blog comes in handy at major moments in my life. anyone who said that writing is therapeutic was absolutely correct. it's at these major moments in my life that i realize how much i can unload onto this mere web page that's wonderfully lost in the abyss of the internet. the world wide web can be an excellent place to hide those very thoughts that go through our heads or our hearts that can be so difficult to tell anyone else. who knew that such a public sphere could be so private?

so what major moment has prompted this comeback? i'm starting over. completely. thank god i'm only 22 because this would be impossible to do if i were any older. this would also be impossible to handle if i were any older. but that's the beauty of youth. not only do we retain those attributes of strength and attractiveness and energy, but we can also get hit with wave after wave of disappointment and not sustain any injuries. at least not on the outside.

but i know i'll get through this, and i know i'll get through this alone. but that's ok. i've found that regardless of how much i may lose faith in the world and those around me, this blog always welcomes me back with open arms and a blank page.