Tag Archives: complaining

18 Things of May

May is always a super eventful month for me. I always have final exams which bring on intense amounts of inner conflict between “I have to do this shit now” and “I don’t want to do this shit now,” I usually have intense spring fever, and I get really excited for summer and begin wearing flip flops when it’s still cold enough to see my breath outside. May 2013 looked a little bit like this…
 
1 I saw the Great Gatsby and subsequently fell in love with the soundtrack. Several of the songs from that movie are still on my Spotify circulation.
 
2 I had finals, and that’s usually a problem for me because I am very easily distracted and amused by small things when I need to get work done. Thankfully, not all of us are this way.
 
“Oh what was that? I can’t hear you because I have earbuds in because I’m studying, as you should be.”
 
3 I SOLVED THE GILYAK PROBLEM. With three other people…but still. The feelings of accomplishment were like … ahhh.
 
So now I totes think we should call my dog the Gilyak word for Harpoon.
 
4 I was introduced to the BBC series Sherlock, starring Bilbo Baggins as Watson.
 
Only a true friend texts you at 3:30am on a Saturday to tell you about his BBC revelation.
5 I packed every single thing I own into boxes and two suitcases. The boxes are sitting in the home of my lovely friend, and the suitcases have exploded all over my room.
 
Our last picture as roommates. Now we’re just friends.
 
 
 
6 I talked myself out of a jaywalking ticket.
 
7 I was on a 6 hour flight home. As in I got on the plane, and 6 hours later I was allowed off. That kind of sucked.
 
8 I had the most satisfying Thai food experience which reminded me that my spidey senses are really good at detecting awesome friends. 
 
9 I went to Chipotle five times in six days. This is not an achievement, it is me admitting that I have a problem.
 
10 I made a legitimate 5x5x4 fort with two of my favorite people ever.
 
11 I saw Fast 6, and it is officially the worst movie I have ever seen in theater. It was that bad.
 
12 I kayaked 29 miles, in 11 hours, in the rain, in the cold, after 10 months of not paddling, and I thought my arms were going to either fall off or be permanently bent into kayak form. I think that day confirmed to me that the Hudson River really is a place uniquely close to my heart…and I know that many people have felt this way, and there are entire organizations dedicated to protecting it, but I feel like for some reason, it’s my place. It’s my one place that I have used in lots of different ways, and it makes me feel home in the best sense of the word.
 
13 I saw this.
 
14 Online summer classes. Bad decision.
 
15 I realized exactly how poorly calibrated is my internal compass.
 
16 I bought way too many dresses.
 
17 I realized that my dog is actually a cat.
18 Someone suggested a great tattoo idea, which has evolved in my mind into something totally cool and worthy of a permanent home on my body. But only after my 21stbirthday. So I have like what, just over 2 years? That’s not so bad.
Advertisements

Four Days

This morning my alarm went off at 6:45am, but I was already up because I was stressin for my psyc exam. I finished the soy milk (which is actually soy juice, but they don’t call it that because no one would buy soy juice – weird right?) in our fridge with the last of my Kashi cereal and I left the dorm for my social psychology exam. It was okay…I only need a high C on the final to maintain an A- in the class, so I think I’m good. I was still trippin over some of the less logical questions like this one:
Rebecca’s friend Marie is planning on potentially going to New York for the weekend, but she is still unsure. Which of the following should Rebecca consider to determine whether or not Marie will go to New York for the weekend?
a) Marie’s attitude in regards to New Yorkers
b) Marie’s intention to go to New York
c) Marie’s attitude toward travel
d) Marie’s intention to travel this weekend
I mean, I don’t know if I’m missing something, but I have no idea where this came from. I think I picked b or d. Regardless, the exam went fairly well I think. 
After my exam, I submitted my final linguistics solution, changed the grade base for my cultural studies class so it can count toward my minor, and then had my last dining hall experience with Eva. I will not miss the dining hall at all. Literally. At all. But that is discussed below.
Then we went to Publika, because they are giving out free teas as they are the winner of the Grapevine Award for best tea and best coffee, so yay. I’m sitting on the sidewalk of 4th St, drinking my iced pomegranate black tea with pearls and 30% sugar, chillin in the sunshine, typing away on my extremely over-heated laptop.
I remember around March of last year, before I had received most of my college rejection letters, I was in the car with my dad and we were talking about where I was going to go to college. We were joking about the ridiculous name of Dinkytown, and he said, “Well, we know you screwed up if you end up in Dinkytown.” I’m not sure if he was right or not – if I really did screw up or if I just ended up here by default. Either way, it’s been the good kind of year that I am capable of having.
This will now be my final review of living in a dorm as per my experience.
It sucks and I don’t recommend it if you’re at all like me. For some people, it is the saving grace of their freshman year. It is how they make friends, and they get to have a “real college experience.” I thought I was going to have that too.
The problem for me is that I overestimated my normalcy. I’m not saying I’m weird in a cool, special, unique way, because in pretty much every way you can be considered “exciting and unique,” I am just like everyone else. But in other ways, I just don’t value the same things, and I think it has a lot to do with the fact that I have a pretty unruly sense of independence as a result of having attended 6 schools in 6 years. Because of this, I wanted really badly to have a super normal college experience in Minnesota – one of the most normal, vanilla places ever. Not so much because I wanted to be like everyone else, but more because I just wanted to be on an even playing field and have the same experiences as everyone else.
The problem is, like I said, that I overestimated the amount of happiness I can derive from the same experiences that make other people happy. I thought living in a dorm, going to football games, and getting shwasted at house parties would make me happy because they were very normal things that everyone else loved, but they don’t make me happy. They didn’t. At all. And I started to realize this as I met different kinds of people toward the very end of my first semester. More mature, interesting people who were the type of cool that I am very much drawn to.
I’m happy I did these things because I now can say that I at least tried to live a life outside of my oddly shaped bubble, but all of the individuals who I now call friends were discovered while doing things that actually make me happy. (Except Eva. We met online. Ah Facebook.)
So yes, I tried really hard to convince myself that I loved living in the dorms, but I didn’t, and I began to come to terms with this at around Christmas time. These are the reasons why I think it sucks for someone like me:
1) I am quite a hypocrite, and I have accepted this. As in, I love my tattoos, but I probably won’t like yours. I also love my dog, but I probably won’t like yours. I also, however, like being in a clean environment. An organized, trash-free environment. 2/3 of my roommates didn’t feel this way. I will leave it at that because I don’t believe in publicly bashing people. Insert frustration here.
2) I like playing music pretty much all the time. When I wake up, when I am doing homework, when I am cleaning, when I am showering, when I am walking somewhere, when I am falling asleep, all the time. It’s hard to do that when some of the people who you are living with don’t feel the same way.
3) I hate TV and believe that it has no place in the lives of mobile individuals. Go live something.
4) I don’t like eating dining hall food. Now, I can’t complain too much because my dorm has some of the best dorm food I have heard of, and I have very few horror stories. The problem is that everything except for the salad is really, really unhealthy. Even the smoothies are made with yogurt containing high fructose corn syrup, and never have I ever seen a whole grain in the dining hall. So I ended up eating salad all the time, which is fine, but every now and then there would be a bug in my salad. I mean it’s really not that hard to use a salad spinner, guys. Also, I really do enjoy cooking for myself, which is exceedingly difficult in a dorm.
5) I don’t dislike communal bathrooms for the reason that they are shared and I have to bring all of my shit with me whenever I shower (but I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve been too lazy to find everything so used Dr. Bronner’s as…everything). I dislike them because every time I had to pee or shower or brush my teeth or whatever, I had to face the world. I passed the library, where lots of people congregate for various reasons. I passed the kitchen, and had watch people burn the shit out of their chicken wings. I passed 7 dorms, so hello to all of you. And, on weekend mornings, I passed tour groups. Only twice, however, have I had to fumble with my keys while standing wet, in my towel, at my door, in the middle of a tour group. Good morning guys. Come to the U. But the only thing between my wet body and your eyes is a rectangle of fabric, so please avert your eyes. Thanks.
6) The only space on the entire campus that I could call mine was my bed, my desk, my dresser, and my wardrobe. That’s it. The ground next to my bed was not mine, that was public space as far as I was concerned, so I had to make sure I treated is as such so as not to piss off my loving roommate. I just get a little claustrophobic knowing that the only space that I can dominate and say, “No, no. You no enter,” is approximately 25 square feet.
7) I have my own schedule, and I really don’t like having to consider someone else’s. CALL ME CRAZY AND SELFISH, but I like to kind of do whatever I want whenever I want, and I had much, much more freedom to do that last year while living with my parents than I did this year while living, ehem, “alone.” It’s just hard for me to not be able to completely control my environment.
8) I think that’s it…yeah I think so. Basically, dorms just didn’t really work out for me. Not my thing.
Thus, next semester, I am living in campus apartments. Yes, it is still university student housing, but none of the above reasons for my displeasure with dorm living apply to the apartments, so I hope it will work out nicely.

And here’s a really good song by two of my favorite artists collabing and being amazing…

Spring Finals 2013

Right now, I am sitting in a “study room” in my dorm, trying to write a paper that is due in exactly 12 hours. However, in those 12 hours it’d also be nice if I could go to class, meet with my linguistics group to finish our final assignment, and shower. Minus the shower which has become a third-tier priority, that leaves me with 8 hours. This is the product of those moments when I tell myself I am “fine because I already wrote my paper in my head while I was in the shower.” Fuck those moments.
I refer to the “study room” with such suggestive quotations because I’m not sure what makes it a study room. I’m pretty sure it’s just a room void of sharp objects with which to stab yourself, places from which to hang yourself, and windows to jump out of when you realize your procrastination has gotten to a point that requires you to rent a study room at 2am because your roommates are asleep and you don’t know what else to do.
Earlier this evening, however, I had the grand pleasure of going to a premier of The Great Gatsby starring Leonardo DiCaprio, my spirit animal. The condition upon which I allowed myself to go to the movie was that I had to have completed my paper first. I didn’t do that, and then decided to make my future self pay for the error of my ways. Does anyone else do this? (Don’t answer, that was a rhetorical question. That was just me expressing my wonder.) I never actually think about dealing with the consequences of my actions because I separate my past, present, and future selves. As in, I think back and I’m like, “I’m proud of you, past self. You took graduate level classes and didn’t sink to the bottom of the shit heap that is over-ambitious undergrads. Well done.” And when faced with a decision, let’s say in terms of alcohol, I will think to myself, “No, no. I can’t drink that now. Or else my future self will kill me when I won’t be able to focus tomorrow. No thanks.” However, sometimes I feel a little bitchy toward myself and I do something like I did earlier today, and I decide to stick it to my future self. I was like, “Okay, I’ll go to the movie for my present self. But goddamn future self is going to HATE me for doing this.” And yes, past self. I do hate you for doing this.
However, I am happy I went – I just wish I would have started my paper, you know, a month ago when everyone else did. It was really a great movie, and whatever director had the balls to tackle that book really deserves a super thumbs up and a pat on the back for a job well done. Also, he somehow figured out how to include Beyonce into a movie set in the 1920s, which in and of itself is a feat of the greatest. It was also such a wonderful experience because I was with some cool, cool people. I can’t really put my finger on what it is about them, but those guys always impress me and I really admire them. What’s weird, though, is that the film release date was May 10, and it started at 10pm on May 9. Still don’t really understand that one.
But so yes. (That’s kind of become my unintentional catch phrase.) I’m going to miss Minnesota this summer. And although I have discovered that this place isn’t actually as magical as I thought it was when I first moved here, it’s really cool for a bunch of different reasons. I’ve met some shitty people, and I’ve done some shitty things, and I’ve cried a few times, but like my father told me – I really have come full circle. And regardless of how much more time I actually end up spending here, a part of me will always have some roots in Minnesota.
Oh that’s just so hot. In a really sad, tired, in need of sleep and a shower kind of way. (SLEEP AND SHOWER WITH YOU?!) (Haha no.) (Unless you’re LDC…in which case, we should talk.)
Alas, the film is over and I am sitting in the “study room,” equipped to get this shit done. I had a Saturday Evening Post mug full of coffee, which is already gone, sadly enough. I also have a Chobani with a knife, because I mistakenly grabbed that instead of a spoon while I was blindly fumbling around my room without a light on. I also have somersaults. Lots of somersaults. 
LET’S WRITE A PAPER ABOUT PHONOLOGY HELL YAHH.

Pinterest

Snowstorm Yogi is drunk and he needs to go home.
So I decided to bury myself into my dorm and do Pinterest things and be a little more domestic. So I made a yoga tank top.
You can’t see outside my window because my webcam is has shitty resolution and the snow is so blindingly white. But you can kind of see my tank top!

United We Stand

Sad things are happening. Facebook and Twitter are exploding with people offering prayers, demonstrations of support and solidarity, questions of why, accusations of who, and hatred for whomever is responsible. Some people are also criticizing those who seem upset by these events, because “things like this happen everyday in some countries! You don’t care about those people! You’re so selfish! You’re only paying attention to these people because they’re Americans and it’s on the front page!”
That’s not true. 
At all.
I cried. I cried for a really long time when I heard about the shooting in CT a few months ago. Tears still well in my eyes when I think about it. I cried when I heard about the explosions in Boston. And I just cried when I heard about the explosion of the fertilizer plant in Texas which may have killed up to 70 people. Maybe it’s because I am a hormonally volatile teenager, but maybe it’s just because people are dieing, and that’s always really sad.

When I was in 8th grade, a family friend had passed away and my mom told me to get my brothers and go to his funeral at lunch time. So I did, but it turned out to be the wrong funeral. We sat there in our uniforms in the back of the church, at a strangers funeral, and I cried my eyes out. It was so sad – there was hardly anyone there. I thought about that for a while, and I felt so embarrassed for crying at the funeral of a complete stranger, but I remember that day when things like this happen. And all of a sudden everything seems much more personal to me. I think about that man whose life I cried about, simply because the people who were there loved him and lost him.

All of those people had lives and futures that are now gone, and they have been taken from the people who love them. So I cry about that. And I think shedding some tears is the least I can do. I know it’s completely irrational and not true, but I feel like the more emotional burden I try to bear, the lighter it may be for some of the people who were actually affected by these events. I don’t know if they would consider it offensive or supportive that I cry, but I feel sad, so I cry about it. And then I say a prayer and carry on.

People are dieing. That’s always a reason to cry, offer prayers, and show support. But people are dieing all the time. Innocent, good people are dieing every second. The reason that everyone is showing support for these losses is not that we are “selfish” and “ignorant” and only care about the deaths that make headlines, but because these are the ones that hit home. These are the ones that could have been us.
When we hear about these tragedies occurring in far away places, it’s hard to imagine ourselves there. It’s hard to imagine living in a war zone and being a victim of a roadside bomb. It’s quite easy to imagine waiting at the finish line for the runners to finish their marathon in a city that, if you live in the US, is probably not much unlike your own.
Minneapolis is definitely on the smaller side of major US cities, so I’d like to believe that moving here was a pretty low-risk decision on my part. But my little brother goes to school in one of the same cities that was attacked on 9/11. My aunt and uncle both work in Manhattan. My other uncle lives in Boston. It is all too easy for me to imagine these things happening to me, or much worse, to one of them. That’s why we publicly offer support and prayers and love and well wishes. That’s why demonstrations of solidarity are important to us in times like these – because it could have been us.
I’m not one to argue on Facebook. If you want to share your own invalid opinions and reveal exactly how much of an idiot you are to all of social media, go for it, I won’t stop you. I also won’t make myself look like a tool and try to correct you on Facebook. But if you’re one of those individuals who is trying to appear to be more globally-aware and superior by demeaning the efforts of your friends to offer support and solidarity, then you’re wrong and you should stop.
The last thing this world needs is pretentious college students furiously typing away at their Macbooks about how their peers just need to be more “aware” while behind the comforting veil of l’internet.
Oh, wait…