Filed under: College, Late Night | Tags: complaining, Falmouth, future, happiness, moving out, summer, work
-Do I stay up tonight and feel like shit in the morning, or just go to sleep now? This is a problem I have faced every day for the last five years. Anyone who has ever been my age will understand completely.
-Do I write ‘exempt’ on my tax return and get most of the money I earn, or do I write ’1′ and get a nice hefty tax return next Spring? Today I started my second job. I immediately put down ‘exempt’ on my W-2. Why? Well, the whole point of having a second job is for extra dough. I want to spend this money. But only this money. It is a great way to budget, don’t you think? However, I wasn’t expecting to have to fill out another tax form at my job from last summer (Glass Onion.) I mean, they already have my data on file somewhere. Why would I fill it out again? Alas, Josh approached me with all the paperwork I need for taxes and to return to the payroll. So now I am faced with this dilemma– and I have no idea what to do. While forced savings are nice– there is no doubt in my mind that my tax return was anxiously awaited and thoughtlessly spent this Spring– I would like to be able to see all my earnings from the Summer on September 1st, as opposed to waiting. Which is the better choice? I cannot decide.
-Is this something that my parents would approve of? Well, I find whenever I have to ask myself that question (which is less than even I would expect,) the answer is usually “no, they would not.”
-What do I want to do with my life? Perhaps I will ask myself this very question every week of my life until I am 54, but it seems to pop up every hour at the moment. I finally moved out (finally! I’ve talked about it on my blog for years, and I know that you were all as excited as I was when I finally broke the news) and my roommates are… smart. Ambitious. Destined for unbelievable things. And I, I work at a restaurant and schmuck around beaches and walk on sidewalks. A few years ago, I had wild dreams for myself, but now, I am content with finishing a book, or enjoying a day of laying in bed and watching Instant Netflix, or ranting via skype to my best friend (who is at school in Scotland) about nothing in particular– although we especially love to rant about how we don’t envision the same things our parents that had/have in mind for us. I confessed to my roommates that I once had ambition and drive, just like them, but my summers in Falmouth were likely the cause of my sudden… lack of any kind of motivation. They laughed. The only two desires I am certain of are publishing a novel and being happy. Nonetheless, I still don’t know what I want to do with the rest of my life. I am confident that coming to Falmouth for the summer is at least a step in the right direction for the latter goal…
-Am I dying? Sometimes I think that I am. Thankfully, people like Chicken remind me that even Wayne Campbell thought he had mono, and it turned out he was just really bored. I did get one decent beach day in last week, as I meandered Falmouth, seeking entertainment of any kind, and wondering when in God’s name I would finally go back to work again. Ironically enough, once the sun finally came out (though for only a day), I got the call to come back to work for Saturday night. I’ve worked two G.O. shifts and I have doubts about if I would like to work all summer or not… Perhaps this is due to some strife with friends (yup, give me a week, and I will make you hate me. It’s easy,) but at the same time, I question how fabulous it will really be… And I swear, this has nothing to do with the fact that I am picking the spores of portabella mushrooms out from underneath my finger nails.
-What the fuck is in the corner? Well, last week, this question was more along the lines of ‘what the fuck is that sound?’ This house creaks and howls in the wind and makes terrible sounds… all the time. Especially at night. But yesterday I moved from my cozy, awesome upstairs bugalow (which was a little small), to the fantastically spacious, though chilly and slightly frightening basement bedroom. But I have a huge closet, a tv, and plenty of space for chairs and guests and maybe even another mattress for friends to stay. Reed has suggested I enter and exit strictly via bulkhead. Once it’s warm and sunny, I may actually do that. To be honest, that’s the fastest way to the fridge in the kitchen, anyway.
-What will happen if the Bruin’s lose? Possible answers: Rachel’s Dad has a heart attack, swaths of fans riot in the streets of Boston, I cut off my finger with a kitchen knife because I made the mistake of listening to the game on the radio while cooking. (Thankfully, they won Game 2 tonight.)
One day, if you’re lucky, you’ll find yourself walking on a crowded sidewalk with strangers of the present, in their crew neck t-shirts and their leather sneakers. You’ll see all the standard conventions of life and social acceptability. You’ll look at yourself and realize you are no different from the rest of them, other than that radiant blonde hair that turns white in the sunshine. The holes in your favorite navy shirt will never stop you from wearing it, even after the German words fade from yellow to a crispy shade of brown. You’re gonna wonder what the hell happened, when did you get so boring. When did any of it matter?
You’re going to run into the middle of the street and shout out loud, and the only one that will hear your voice is you. The people who stride down the sidewalks won’t give you another look. Their iPods will continue to pulse black music into their skulls without hesitation. You shout, your arms raised above your head, and your neck outstretched, as if to greet the rain. It feels like nothing. An old taxi cab will stop just short of you. You will look at the sad, confused cabbie for a brief moment and you will continue to walk to the other side of the street.
It’s gonna hurt to see that, despite the news and the passing of time, not much will have changed.
You’re going to wonder why you wasted afternoons watching SportsCenter, if you should’ve written better papers. You’re going to debate your own moderation, or lack thereof. But not until your numb walk down dirty buzzing city blocks leaves you standing in front of the familiar turquoise vinyl of your apartment. Wind will rip through your coat but you won’t even notice that you’re convulsing with shivers. You’ll trudge up the staircase and fall into your studio as the wimpy key finally catches the lock. You’re going to look at the white walls, the grease on your TV screen and the empty bottles on your decaying coffee table.
It will be the first time you’ve ever realized how alone you are, but you still can’t feel the cold.
When you think your fearlessness will carry you through, you will look back at the burnt bridges and ransacked buildings you left in your home. You’ll realize that fearlessness is not enough. You will have to go back from whence you came, shovel snow and pick up trash and chop fallen tree limbs before you can return to your white walls of the present. You’ll swim against the tide. It would’ve made sense to change, but sitting, half drugged by your own emotions, you will realize that it didn’t have to be this way.
You’re still too proud.
Filed under: Late Night, Rants & Ridiculousness | Tags: frustration, future, insomnia, night, sleep, Stress
Oh hey. Look at the time. It’s 4:21 in the morning. Again. I am wide awake, laying in bed, watching episodes of Weeds on Netflix.
Great. Just great.
It would be one thing if I had a lot of energy despite my not sleeping. But I am always exhausted. At night I don’t sleep, and during the day I don’t sleep, and in the midafternoon my exhaustion gets the best of me. I take a nap for a few hours, or five, and wake up, do homework, go to work, yadda yah, whatever.
And at night when I am beyond tired, I still don’t sleep.
And then, at random, once in a while, I fall asleep at night and sleep for some extraordinary amount of time.
You might be thinking, well, it’s great when you finally get some rest. But you’re wrong! Because at that point, my sleep is disruptive. It fucks up my entire day. I honestly debate if I would rather not sleep another night or sleep just a little more than the usual bare minimum.
Why can’t I at least be productive in my sleepless hours? Instead, I am tired and my mind wanders, and even if I want to focus on reading or homework, I simply cannot.
So here I am.
You know, if I had a working printer, I would make postcards for PostSecret. If I had a kitchen, I would bake. If I was at home, I would call a friend or invite them over or go for a walk somewhere. I could even read a novel!
But tonight, another night, I lay in bed, surfing Netflix and examining the lattice of the underside of the bunk bed, thinking, closing my eyes, trying to sleep. I always end up giving up hope about sleep, or ruminating on life or old friends or why the hell I can’t sleep. It’s all the same. It’s awful.
This is the Insomniac’s Lament.
WHY CAN’T I SLEEP? WHY CAN’T I SLEEP? WHY CAN’T I SLEEP?
Sleep time comes at a premium these days. So why can’t I actually sleep on the nights I am able to actually set aside time to sleep? What the hell is up with that?
Am I right to be angry and vulgar and annoyed?
Filed under: College | Tags: accomplishment, Are you kidding me?, changes, choices, college, future, happiness, homesick, hope, katieism, learning, life, Sam Ferguson, St Augustine, Villanova
Wow. In two weeks, I will be in Canada. I will be with Katelyn, traipsing through Tremblant, shouting at people and having “I love you, girl” moments. It will probably be complete with What-the-Hell shots and some excellent skiing. And when I say probably, I mean definitely.
But these next two weeks are going to be frustrating. I am going to be increasingly sleep deprived, anxious, and enraptured in all things school. Learning and studying may very well kick my ass. But that is besides the point. Although I have a ton of stuff to do tonight, I am taking the time to blog tonight. Not just for procrastination purposes, but to reflect about the things I have experienced since I’ve gotten to Villanova. I mean- let’s face it.
I made it through my first semester.
At least, I have made it this far. I had nights when I thought for sure I would run back to Boston and never come back. I had days when I thought I would never make it to the end of class without freaking out. I cried on the phone, on skype, and to my pillow. I went through what seemed like hell at the time. But I rebounded too.
I made a few friends, but at least I have no enemies.
I’ve learned a lot. About myself as a student, about myself as a person, about life, about religion, about people my age, about people who aren’t my age. I’ve experienced more changes in the past five months than I have in the past four years. I’m still not very sure of myself, but at least today, right now, I am okay with blindly walking through the woods. I mean, there are trees and it’s scenic, and I have been able to hack up crap with my machete (calculus) and climb over the boulders blocking my way (identity crises, bad food, social dilemmas.) I have improved my survival skills (bullshitting, not sleeping, talking to strangers) and I have witnessed some crazy things (VEMS on Tuesdays, what not sleeping will do to you, the greater Philadelphia area, alcoholic professors.)
I’ve slept in a new bed (which I often have crazy dreams in), and I’ve felt alone (even though I have roommates), and I have missed home (even though Falmouth has never left my heart, ever.) I’ve danced on the stage at a concert, traveled to exotic places alone, read some mind blowing texts (Dante’s Inferno should be required life reading), and watched a lot of great TV and movies, courtesy of Netflix (Dexter, Weeds, indie comedies.) I’ve continued to explore some of my passions (newspapers, music, skiing) and left some at the wayside (drinking, for better or for worse.)
You know, I don’t really have anything to show that says how much I have (or have not) grown since my arrival at Villanova, other than a journal (filled with some morose entries) and some bags under my eyes. But nonetheless, I am still proud of myself for sticking it out, making some mistakes, fixing some mistakes, and learning a thing or two. Even if I am thinking in terms of making it from hour to hour, I am still alive and kicking and thirsty for more living.
I could get into my trials and tribulations. But I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to complain. I just want to keep going, move on, and hope things get better. Everyone I have ever met said college was one of the best times of their life, if not the best time. I hope I don’t prove that wrong. I want this to be great. I hope I have a lot of fun and meet a nice guy (or two or three) and learn less about St. Augustine and more about myself and my passions and what life means to me. A rough start can’t deter me from being hopeful for the rest of this craziness.
As Sam Ferguson said, “Die living.” I am not going to die because of college. And maybe that is the wrong place for said quote, but I feel like it’s perfect anyway. “Die living.” It might just be the best thing anyone has said, ever.
Filed under: Song of the Day | Tags: Born Ruffians, confusion, dream, friends, future, indie, lyrics, music, past, Rachel Socolow, song of the day, speechless, St Augustine, video
What to Say by Born Ruffians
When I wake up I’m speaking slow. When I get drunk I’m speaking more. Get too drunk & I don’t speak at all. Get too close to you & I don’t know what to say. The only time I make sense is when I’m talking in my sleep. But there’s nobody around to write it down, So it gets lost on my books & pillows. The only time you made sense was when I was talking too. But we had to take turns, one at a time. & when it comes to mine I have no idea what to say. When I’m talking to you. What to say when I’m standing there talking to you.
Not long ago, I was left speechless after a night with an old friend.
I didn’t know how to react, or what to say, then. And even now, I still don’t know what to say.
I have a lot of things that I want to say, but part of me feels as if things are best left unsaid. Maybe this was just supposed to be the last straw, walk away, wait until a few months, or a few years from now, when we run into each other at the grocery store or a bar, smile awkwardly, admire each others eyes, reminisce, and walk away.
I am not sure how things are supposed to play out, and I would rather just let it be- wait until it happens. I don’t need to think about the future. I just need to think about my late night blogging, or questions on St. Augustine, or how I need to update my resume once and for all.
I like this song because I have always been able to relate to it. (And I am an outspoken, verbose, loquacious.) Even when we were closer, I didn’t know what was right to say and what was best left to silence. I write in my journal, and even though I am only talking to myself, I don’t know what I should or shouldn’t be recording. I can’t even collect my thoughts.
We met up under strange, tender conditions. I was uneasy. Much of my apprehension was out of not knowing what to say. We sat together in the car, in our old spot by the ocean, and I still did not know what to say. Even Sam Summer and music couldn’t coerce much out of me.
The pervasiveness of my speechlessness has always been an issue, whether I ever acknowledged it or not. I have no doubts about a little lack of honesty, a little lack of communication. Even as a fond letter writer, no one likes receiving half as many emails as they send.
I often feel as if I am only making sense when I am talking in my sleep, through my chaotic, twisted dreams. I’ve been told I say the most bizarre, out there things, but it doesn’t surprise me much. Often, these are thoughts I have had before. And while these contrived situations of my dreams are far from realistic, I still have been to these places before. I have thought about them in my waking hours- whether I know it or not.
Recently, my friend was in my dream. It was violent, and I woke up haunted, but unsure why. My roommates commented on me being particularly chatty that night. From some interpretive view point, perhaps this shows how uncertain, frightened, and speechless I am in the daytime. I don’t know how to confront it; I want to say something, but I cannot find the most perfect words, so instead, I remain silent.
It’s fine with me. Kind of.
(Aside from the lyrical value of this song, I am a big fan of Born Ruffians. I have featured some other stuff by them on KatieAtlas, and I think they are a talented bunch. Their music provides a unique, fresh perspective on music, life and culture.)
I think this post can be best summed up with one of my own midnight ramblings, as recorded by Rachel Socolow: “Oh fuck. Oh fuck…… OH FUCK.”
Filed under: College, Lizstomania | Tags: col, college, future, happiness, Lists, nonfiction, pizza, sleep, vacation, Villanova
I have never been one to look “healthy” or “sunny” or “glowy.” Depending on the time of year, my skin can be so pale I fluoresce. I can light up a room.
After nine or so weeks of Villanova, I am retreating to my night-light-bright-white status. The bags under my eyes are staggering. My hygiene is a little lacking. My sleeping habits are so off that even a rabid racoon would say “WTF?” I am coming very close to being hospitalized for exhaustion. Okay, that wouldn’t happen- I am not as pathetic as Lindsey Lohan. But you get the idea.
In about half an hour, I have my last midterm of the semester. Tomorrow I depart campus for New York, New England, and October Break Week. Hallelujah! I have been thinking about, craving, and all out praying to God for this week to finally come. In twenty-four hours, I’ll be boarding that big old Greyhound Bus and getting the hell out of here. (Yeah, I know I have to drive through Dirty Jersey to reach salvation, but at least my window won’t be open.) ANYWAY, here are some of the things I want to do over break:
- Be a touristy New Englander. I want to carve a pumpkin, take pictures of leaves turning, go apple picking, and generally enjoy the outdoors. I am gonna walk my dog, listen to folk-y music, and enjoy a nice cold beer. I’m gonna pretend it’s the last time I’ll ever be there in the fall, and enjoy all that New England has for me. Amen.
If only my pumpkin could come out this spectacular.
- Sleep. I am going to sleep endless hours, all night, and all morning. I want to sleep so much that I can’t sleep when I get back to school. I mean, let’s be honest, I’m not gonna sleep when I get back to school anyway, so I might as well catch up/get ahead while I can… I have been fantasizing about all the places I am going to sleep. On buses, in cars, in my lovely bed, in hammocks, with my dog, on a couch…. Oh, it sounds so nice.
- Read some worthwhile fiction. After all the text books and philosophical readings, I am craving myself a novel. Please, oh please, let me read a novel! I would even settle for nonfiction that reads like a novel! Lord, oh Lord, I promise I will never take advantage of fiction reading ever again. I’ll stick with the newspaper, but I really miss fiction. Even just the smell and feel of a paperback book…. Okay, I’ll stop myself before this gets bookworm pornographic.
- Immerse myself in media. I am going to catch up on local news, world news, business family news, television, movies, kitchen life, cooking, all of it. I want to be so well rounded and know what’s been going on for the last month and a half- almost as if I knew of it all along. I am going to get into the crafty media too- taking photographs with my old camera, making bracelets out of string/hemp, coloring, the whole gamut. I miss the things I used to enjoy.
- Take time to enjoy the little home-y moments. You know, stuff you can’t do in college, like eat good pizza (Villanova pizza SUCKS), shower without shoes, sleep naked, fart loudly, cuddle with the dog, listen to your music loudly, drink out of clean cups, real plates, talk on the phone whenever you feel, etm.
See you at Dunkin Donuts, friends.
Filed under: College, Rants & Ridiculousness | Tags: acceptance, avalanche, college, confusion, dream, future, happiness, katieism, Rant, skiing
Last night I had another dream that I was skiing. There was an avalanche though. It was skewed and weird, and I remember my aunt, Marilyn, flying through the air like an X Games Skier.
I’m not quite sure what else went down, but here is my stab at interpreting my dream:
The avalanche is stress: school, parents, alcohol, life. It’s all those unknowns, all that unhappiness, coming straight toward me. I think I was on the lift, but I was still in danger of being caught in the avalanche. Snow, in and of itself, isn’t very dangerous, but when it becomes that enormous mass, it’s a death threat.
I feared the uncertainty of the avalanche: I didn’t know if I would live or die. I didn’t know how it would affect my family. I feared the avalanche itself: this mounting mass, uncontrollable, wild, etm.
I will not say I hate school. But I think that a huge reason why I won’t say this is because I’ve been in worse places. Villanova has not made me depressed. When I get there, if I get there, maybe I’ll say that. But I feel like, today, at Nova, I’m looking an avalanche in the face. I do not know my fate, if it’s as awful as it looks, or if it is gonna hit or miss. I’m uncomfortable looking at it: how could I not be? I was skiing alone, and I think I am looking at the VU avalanche alone, too. How can I know what to expect? How can I control it? How can I survive? I know the answers to none of these questions.
I’m looking an avalanche in the face.
I think Marilyn represents the hope: the avalanche gets closer and closer, it might crash down on her, it’s about to, things look bad, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. She nails the jump, flys 20 feet through the air, into safety.
Even if I get pummeled by an avalanche, there’s a quick shot out. It’s far fetched and movie-like, but it can happen.
Even that jump is terrifying. I don’t do jumps when I ski: I am terrified of wiping out on one of those. Would I be able to take that leap of faith? I like to think that in the face of an avalanche, I would give it a shot. But in life, do I take those kind of risks?
Could I jump if I were stuck in the VU avalanche?
Am I going to have to jump?
When is this avalanche coming, and will I be in the right place at the wrong time?
I am looking an avalanche in the face.
I can plan today, but who knows what will happen tomorrow.
—-
Okay, so that is a lot more than just a simple dream analysis. I guess it exposes my insecurities a lot more than I would normally be willing to concede, especially to share on the web. But it’s true. And after hearing from yet another friend about her freshman woes, I am less afraid to share this.
I think about transferring a lot. But I also think about completely blowing off college, as I has been planning for at one time. I was more than ready to say “No way, Jose” to college, and not even giving it a try.
It’s still only September. I’ve been here for a month, but I feel like I’ve been here for EVER. I am trying to stay positive, but it is really, really hard to stay optimistic. I’m losing my patience. I’m reverting to my less open self. Part of me says “How can I not go back to ‘Normal Katie’ or ‘Real Katie’ or whatever I am?” but part of me is pissed, pulling the “Oh try harder,” or “Oh, wait it out” card that so many people/friends suggested to me. (In all honesty, I even suggested it to myself, too. Especially at the beginning.)
If my dreams are trying to tell me something, maybe they are telling me what I already knew: that this would be a very trying time, that I would constantly question if I am doing the right thing, that I am going to be overwhelmed and underimpressed at the same time. It is as confusing as it is maddening. Sometimes it’s all too much, and others it is far from enough. I am trying to work with what I have, but at the end of the day, I just can’t be pleased.
Is this a me problem or is this a Villanova problem? Is this a dreamed up problem or is this a real problem? Is this an “Option D- all of the above” kind of multiple choice question? Will I ever know the answer?
Filed under: College, Rants & Ridiculousness, Uncategorized | Tags: awesomeness, class, Dr. Richard Jackman, future, inspirational, katieism, life, orientation, quotes, speaker, Villanova
Since arriving on Wednesday with C&K and all my shit, what I’ve learned from the Glass Onion has certainly come into play: Everyday is a new day. And not everyone can cook.
Some days I was happy, and some days I wanted to punch someone in the nose. Most days fluctuated between both extremes. Sometimes my emotions were rational, and sometimes they weren’t. I talked to random strangers, played a lot of ice breakers, and danced a little bit to songs that were very reminiscent of camp. Orientation was exhausting, yet relaxing, and oxymoronic. I spent a lot of money. A lot of money. I am probably also going to spend a lot of money this week.
Today, I peaced out of orientation after a rousing game of Mafia. I snagged a coffee at Holy Grounds and ran back to my dorm on South Campus through the pouring rain. I had had enough. I needed to vent and sit and pee. Basically, I needed to chill the fuck out, for lack of a more eloquent saying.
I took to my laptop, caffeine-filled and angry. I began shopping online. I must’ve been a pity to look at, especially after I put on sweatpants. Oh, Lord knows, no one looks good in sweatpants.
Around 6, my Orientation Counselor (OC), Mike, texted me. “Katie, we are in the pavilion for a ceremony if you want…..I also have your nova nation shirt”
I inquired a little more and found out it was the candle ceremony, the one Mrs. Lackner told me I would love… I asked if I would regret not going and Mike, very nicely and indirectly, said yes. So, despite my shitty mood, I put on new, dry jeans, sneakers, and my Villanova T, and marched my sorry ass to the pavilion.
I’m glad I am not as stubborn as I used to be. The ceremony was, by far, the best part of orientation. Better than any freebie, improv show, or trip to the bookstore.
I made it to the pavilion about halfway through mass. They finished the second reading as I arrived. Fast forward through the gospel, eucharist, singing, peace, the whole shoot and match. Fast forward to closing speakers. Bring out Dr. Richard Jackman, stage left.
The old man ambled up the stairs of the stage, and despite his feeble appearance, he spoke with a commanding presence, clarity, and as if he was a longtime friend. After introducing himself and welcoming us, he began “There are two types of people in the world. Those who go to Villanova, and those who wish they did.”
He continued with some advice.
“Be yourself. Because no one else wants the job.”
He has a valid point.
With all this opportunity for new beginnings, when meeting new people and showing myself off (I feel like that’s what you have to do when you become friends with people, just to make sure they actually want you, like making sure the car you’re going to buy has enough features, aside from the sex appeal of the sleek, new model) I am going to stress the following:
- I am nice. I am compassionate, caring, and if you’re my friend, I will pretty much drop everything to cater to you and make you happy.
- I am a little crazy, but I am also really fun. I need to constantly be doing SOMETHING. I love sporting events. I love beer. I love talking. I can be the life of the party, if I so choose.
- I love the job of being me.
- I don’t want to trade.
Dr. Jackman also brought up “Three pieces of Collegiate Advice.”
“If you want something really badly, give it away.” In other words, if you want someone to applaud you, applaud someone else. You get what you give. Give love to fall in love. Another smart idea. I never quite thought about it that way, but the man is so right.
“Never get into a fight with ugly people. They have nothing to lose.” Looking back at all the fights I’ve been in, the ugly people are a bit more ruthless. They take you down that extra notch… I am going to try my best to, instead of instigate the fights, do my best to keep peace. I know how to handle my anger, and hopefully I will be able to walk away from others who are angry, or can avoid problems when they turn.. red.
“Whatever it is that hits the fan will NOT be equally distributed.” Life isn’t fair. And, time and again, shit will hit the fan. Or mayonnaise. Or vomit. Whatever grosses you out most. Count your blessings when it misses you. Next time you won’t be so lucky. That is good advice, no matter if you are in college or not. It’s hard to accept, sometimes, but certainly worth remembering. Insert two cents about karma, etc here.
Dr. Jackman continued, with many more pieces of advice.
“It’s what you do between now and potato salad that counts.” Dr. Jackman told about funerals, how our friends say nice things, things they should’ve said when we were alive, at our funerals, and then go eat potato salad. We want to hear the best things we can about our lives, existence, whatever. In order to sound less than mediocre, it’s up to us to make something of ourselves, he said. Dr. Jackman implored that we take advantage of our time at Villanova.
“Don’t knock the rich, you’ll never be hired by anybody poor.” Especially after reading Googled , it’s clear that our way up is by networking with, and kissing the asses of, the rich. Things are a lot easier when you have friends in high places than when you have friends that visit high places. Dr. Jackman brought up how fortunate we are that Villanova is in one of the classiest, wealthiest neighborhoods in the nation: the Main Line. “The Main Line unemployment office has valet parking,” he said with a chuckle. The community can provide anyone with plenty of opportunity, regardless of Villanova. Put the two together, and big things are bound to happen. Or so he says.
“If you’re going to take up cross country skiing, start in a small country.” I’m not sure what I want to make of my time at Villanova. It’s too early to decide. I have some goals, but not necessarily a detailed game plan. Today is preseason, not March Madness. But this token of advice is a great one to keep in my palm: I have gotten in over my head before. My ambition has brought me down. I’m fragile, and I’m volatile, so maybe it would be best for me to wait out any grandiose plans. Starting small is still a start.
“Let’s not look at our limitations, but pursue our opportunities.” I think this advice is a great way to keep one’s outlook positive: don’t say, well, I can’t do this. See what is out there, and try it. Think less, do more. It’s easy for people, myself included, to dismiss something. Too expensive, I can’t, no time, blah blah blah. Dr. Jackman closed, noting that is important that we use these opportunities to further our “commitment to help others and the courage to persevere.” Don’t be afraid to say “I will try again tomorrow.”
Orientation had it’s ups and downs. Today, there was a time when I wanted to hurt something. But at least I know that I can say this: I will try again tomorrow. Hopefully the first day of classes will be better.
Wish me luck!
Filed under: Serendipity, Uncategorized | Tags: babysitting, cupcakes, Falmouth, free, future, generosity, happiness, ice cream, kids, kindness, life, random acts of kindness, RMV, Smitty
“Getting money is not all a man’s business: to cultivate kindness is a valuable part of the business of life.” – Samuel Johnson
After a morning of unnecessary bullshit at the Registry of Motor Vehicles, a hammock nap, and some Hot Sauce bonding, I was ready to spend my evening babysitting. Ha, not exactly. Babysitting reminds me of how much I prefer drinking to everything else, but whatever.
We play Clue Jr, June gets angry that I inadvertently won. We make popcorn the old fashioned way, but not without breaking the spinner six times and nearly burning off all my fingertips with hot oil. My former uncle makes creepy phone calls to me and the kids, and the house is hot as fuck.
Although I figured they’d had enough sweets, I reneged and said “Let’s get out of here.”
We went for ice cream.
The kids went nuts.
Now, truth be told, this was the first time I had been to Smitty’s in Eastie all summer. Which, for an ice cream connoisseur like myself, is crazy. I eat ice cream every week, and the fact that I haven’t found time on a day off to make rounds at Smitty’s is weird. They have good stuff. It’s not Ben and Bill’s or Kimball’s, but I haven’t found a cone at Smitty’s that I didn’t thoroughly enjoy.
ANYWAY- So of course, I forgot that they only take cash. We’ve stood in line for twenty minutes, Stevie and June are jumping around like puppies on caffeine pills. I tell them not to move a muscle and sprint back to the car to find cash. I dig through my trunk of garbage and find eight bucks. Not enough for three ice creams, but enough for two. Somewhat disappointed that I won’t be able to share in their ice cream euphoria, I walk back to find June, like a 30 year old mother, ordering for herself and Stevie, reminding the scooper girl that Stevie has an allergy and whatnot. As she licks her cone, she is also shouting “Smitty’s is WAY better than Dairy Queen.” Okay, so maybe she is still ten years old after all.
June asks me why I’m not ordering an ice cream. “I forgot they don’t take cards here, June. I don’t have enough money.” Smitty approaches me. “Don’t worry about it- what can I get for you?”
To be honest, it was kind of like meeting a celebrity. I stuttered a bit and felt my heart beating. Lame, maybe, but here was the owner of one of my favorite ice cream places, offering me a free cone. He was insistent. “I’m here all the time, don’t worry about it,” I said. “No, really, it’s not a problem,” he replied. “What can I get you?”
I forked over my measly eight bucks and walked away with a free cone, two happy campers, and June continuing to be ten, profusely thanking the ice cream man and giving her two cents about how awful DQ is.
Suddenly my day didn’t suck anymore. I ate my ice cream on the picnic bench with the kids and was, if only for a moment, just as happy as they were.
My Smitty’s experience also made me think: why the hell do I want to make cupcakes for a living? Why aren’t I planning on making ice cream? Cupcakes are great, but there really is nothing in the world I love more than ice cream. & Time consuming, difficult, and tiresome as it is, the only thing I have ever been convinced I want as a career is to be an entrepreneur. I mean, if I can make someone feel as good as I did last night getting a free ice cream, then there really is no question.
I want to be an ice cream man.
Filed under: Rants & Ridiculousness, Senioritis | Tags: future, life, Lists, senioritis, slacking, Stress, To Do
Lately I’ve gotten my shit together.
At least a little bit.
The most important things, or at least what most people would say at the most important things, have been covered. I picked a school. I submitted my deposit. I finally washed my sheets, and I went to the doctors. I am enjoying my internship and have had two by-lines.
But I’ve been so lazy, at the same time. I haven’t gotten a job. I haven’t gone on a diet, and I certainly have neglected working out. I have yet to truly fold all my laundry. I still don’t know what I am doing this summer. I haven’t whitened my teeth or been blogging regularly or eaten healthier food. I haven’t been studying for my AP exam, let alone doing the homework for the class. Nice.
I have so many events coming up, seemingly. I have so much motivation, but I never actually apply myself.
I’m not depressed, thankfully. But I feel like a loser. All I do is succumb to my spur-of-the-moment urges and desires. Beyond that… What can I say that I’ve really done?
Here’s the To Do List, including work items, daily items, and long term schtuff.
- Food Revolution article –> get into contact with Doug Anderson, the mom, students, etc
- Interview local HS students for Mass Anti-Bullying legislation opinions
- Psych class at one
- Review quiz on five modules
- Shorts shopping with Madre (fucking Disney)
- Figure out what to do in the future
- Pick my classes for next semester
- Figure out grad party deal (another FML)
- Shave my legs
- Clean my room
- Get a job
- Get a gym membership
- Stop eating shitty foods
- Study for AP exam
- Take AP exam
- Figure out birthday weekend events… FML
- Get hands on some Captain Lime
- Submit community service sheet to the NHS Nazis
- Get laundry from dryer
- Buy prom ticket (FML)
- Finish my book
- Make a list of books to read for the summer
- Make a list of movies to watch this summer
- Get some money (FML)
- Get some WhiteStrips
- Make a survey for candace
- Finish all the MyNova Shit
- Visit MacKenzie Zadroga
- Go to NYC for concert with Candace
- Write some letters
- Learn Quantum Physics, memorize the Bible verbatim, do a cartwheel, and go on a date with Brad Pitt. HA.
Maybe this is senioritis?
Katie
