Or that I’ve been feeling these past two and a half weeks?

Why can’t I just get my lazy ass up and away from my TV/laptop and do something worthwhile and intellectually stimulating? Like, oh, I don’t know, hunker down with a good novel, or apply to some jobs, or some scholarships, or read the news even! 

Oh well, that can wait until next week, I guess. Shit, I still have to order my textbooks! Why oh why am I so behind on life?! Alright, my new resolve: Make the next two and a half weeks the most productive weeks of my entire break. I’m going to:

1. Make a cookbook, so I don’t die of starvation/excessive overspending in London.
2. Finalize as much of my travel plans as I possibly can!
3. Apply to ~5 jobs a week.
4. Hit the library! And finish one book every 3 days. IT’S POSSIBLE!
5. Watch some classic American films.
6. Learn some good one-liners. Idk I’m really into one-liners these days.
7. Sift through some new Urban dictionary definitions. I’m also really into learning what words the cool kids are using.
8. Pack for Europe.
9. Update my iPod.
10. Come up with a get-rich-quick scheme.

of awkward tension in my house lately. Well, not so much, but a little more than the usual, and it all started over—can you guess?—money. Literally, the root of all problems.

I want to take a 3-credit class over the summer, and my mom’s against it. I can see why—it’s roughly $3,000 that: (1) won’t be covered by scholarships; and (2) is needed to be spent about two years earlier than we had planned. So needless to say, I feel tremendously guilty about it. At the same time, I need to take this summer class in order to graduate early. 

I think it would have been okay had I not taken two classes last summer, as well…anyway, the point I’m trying to make is: Yes, I know I’m very demanding. Last semester I worked an unpaid internship, so I needed my parents’ help with money (like a lot), and since I’m spending this semester abroad I’m going to need their help again (this time twofold, since I’m going to be living in a city more expensive than New York). 

At the same time, I’m planning on working this summer and paying them back some of what I borrowed. And I’m going to support them later on—aren’t I allowed to be a little needy now? (I feel like I’m going on a more complex tangent than planned…)

-

A month or two ago, one of my friends from college and I were sitting in my dorm, talking about (what else?) our futures. We’re both in Stern, studying business, and struggling with some sort of mis-identity, mis-direction, call it what you will, but it’s a very common stress that plagues most young collegiate peoples. 

Anyway, we were talking about whether or not we were going to get funneled into the cookie-cutter “Built-In Life/Career Path” most students in Stern seem to inevitably adopt.

(For those of you who aren’t in Stern, the plan goes pretty much like this: Major in finance + random concentration that makes you think you’re somehow different than everyone else —> flip a shit junior spring looking for a summer internship at a bank —> eventually land an internship —> spend a totally boring, unfulfilling summer working at ____ bank —> get an offer to work full-time beginning two months after graduation —> make a shit ton of money —> get comfortable —> meet future spouse —> get knocked up —> move to an upper middle class neighborhood —> live an upper middle class life —> die decently happy, knowing you were able to support your family and parents and yourself, but also knowing that you were happy in the long-term, yet rarely in the day-to-day)

He was pretty confident that he wouldn’t—but I’m just not so sure. 

I can say honestly that I don’t want to. If someone came to me today at this moment, or tomorrow, or anytime in the next few months, and told me that when I left college, I would just be giving up a desk in school for an office desk, that I’d be a cog in some financial institution somewhere, I would cry.

What I really want to do is take a risk and do something (start a business, something!) that sounds totally crazy, something that *could work* and could payoff big time (in happiness, and in money)—but also might not. But how could I do that to my parents? How could I put them through the stress of thinking I might not succeed…and that all the money they had invested in my education might end up being a total waste?

This all might sound terribly exaggerated—but I’m telling you, these are legitimate fears!

But then again, how could I not do this for myself? Didn’t my parents work hard to make sure my sister and I could have access to all the opportunities they weren’t able to have? If I give up doing what I want to do, it’s like this endless cycle…they work hard to give me a better life, I work hard to give back, and to give my kids a better life…and in the end, nothing extraordinary gets done. Nothing special happens! 

I mean, I guess different people want different things. In a few years, maybe I’ll just want security. But right now all I know is that I’m young, and I want to do something special with my life. And nothing special comes out of playing it safe.

And I’m sorry! But I’ve been really busy—and a little uninspired these days. Also, two of my courses last semester were writing-intensive, so I spent all my energy on keeping up with that—anyway, I’m done with the excuses, but a few things I’ve noticed after a lengthy break from posting:

(1) All my entries in the past are so CHEESY! and

(2) My blog is in serious need of some cleaning up/revamping. I’m bored of my theme, let’s get something new in here please!

On a different note—I just deactivated my Facebook. I’m probably going to regret this in a few days (if I even last that long), but I’m hoping that a break from it will encourage me to better keep in touch with my friends. Like instead of assuming that I know what’s going on in their lives through their photos and status updates, I’ll have to call/video chat them to know what they’ve been up to.

I’m hoping it’ll be good for me (and I’m hoping I can stick with it for at least a month or so)!

I’m feeling so unbearably sad. Tomorrow everyone starts filtering out. First my best friends, then me. And what I’m leaving behind seems more than just people…it seems like the end of an era, almost.

Coming back from the Enrique and J.Lo concert tonight, Cherry and I were talking—reminiscing, really—about our Europe trip last summer. God, we were such babies at the time. Having never tried alcohol, having never done anything purely independent. It wouldn’t have been the same if we’d gone this year. We were so pure then, that’s what made the trip so infinitely perfect. It was more than a vacation, it was a poignant growing up that fit so absolutely between the end of high school and start of college.

It’s strange because it seems like the end of that summer should have been what I’m now recognizing the end of this summer as—the “end of an era.” But it wasn’t. We all knew we would be coming back this year, that we’d all be in the same place at the same time, and the only thing that would have changed was our experiences. The end of this summer though…who knows when we’ll be together again for three uninterrupted months? And when will I have an extended time with my family again? Real life is too—well, real.

I feel this pang of nostalgia when I think of leaving on Tuesday. There won’t ever really be a time like this ever again, will there? 

Forget buying a closet full of clothes. I’m going to cut out the middleman completely and hire a full-time seamstress instead. I’ll put her in the nicest room in my house and lavish her with holidays and vacation packages and gourmet food, in return for my own customized closet. She’ll have a portfolio full of outfits I like, and every day, she’ll make me something. It’ll be perfect. I’ll never have to shop again, and I won’t have to pay the EXORBITANT amount of money designer labels charge for their clothes. 

How we feel, and how we act, is often impacted by how we literally see ourselves day-to-day. When we dress formally, for example, we tend to act more mature; and when we’re in our sweats or lounge wear, we’re more comfortable, and our actions reflect that.

So as we age, I think we begin to act older as we see our appearance change. I think that when a forty-something looks in the mirror one day and sees sunspots scattered on her skin, and lines around her eyes, and silver streaks in her hair, she’ll understand that she’s growing old, and she’ll begin to act older. Maybe she’ll take more notice in the fact that she gets tired more easily; or maybe she’ll realize that her mind isn’t as quick as it once was. She’ll think: It’s because I’m getting older, and she’ll accept it. She’ll blame her mannerisms on time, rather than a poor exercise regimen or diet. 

But what if she never looked in the mirror? And never saw those spots, those lines, or silver hairs? What if the last time she looked in the mirror was on her twenty-fifth birthday, and that’s how she remembered herself for the rest of her life? She’ll always see herself as a young, healthy, quick-witted twenty-five year old; until the day she dies. There would be no reason for her to simply accept deteriorating health as a reflection of age; rather, she would work to remedy whatever seemed “off,” physically or mentally.

Theoretically, this philosophy could slow aging. Of course, it would be difficult, if not impossible, to test an idea like this. But if only we could! The results would reflect the power of the mind, of perception, and challenge a field science is still attempting to break through.

And so begins a common chronicle! How to live less materialistically in an increasingly more materialistic world. 

Savings: $588.85

So breaking down one big How-To into several:

1. How to combat candy cravings - Make your own! And don’t pay for sugar either—“borrow” packets from local cafes and diners. 
2. How to save on eyecare (for those who wear contacts) - Fill your contact case to the bare minimum, rather than to the brim; OR wear glasses until you actually have an income. 
3. How to save on necessities - Go to Trader Joe’s. Bought body wash there for a just under $3 (body wash is inexpensive in general, but I’ve found that they usually cost $4-5 at Walgreens/Duane Reade). 

And there was this one scene where something jumped out of the bushes—totally saw it coming, but I still freaked out and arm spazzed which would’ve been fine except I was holding a steak bowl from Chipotle and basically threw rice and guac onto my face.

I’ve flown back to New York and am now bumming around in my friend’s dorm in between classes. 

This vacation is not what I imagined—at all. In my mind, I’ve always paired summers in the city with a high of intellectual fever; my first June in New York, I thought, would be spent watching Shakespeare in the park, apple-picking in Duchess County, and drinking with my friends on the Chelsea pier. But the city is still wet and abused by frequent thunderstorms. And if the rain wasn’t enough to kill my spirit, the fact that my roommate is basically the only person I know who’s left in the city certainly is. 

I miss my friends from home! I’ve been bugging one of my best friends to find a paid internship in the city—hopefully that all works out. I really can’t stay here for another six weeks by myself, I’m dying of loneliness. 

And it’s forty-one minutes into the first official day of summer-as-a-girl-caught-in-freshman-sophomore-limbo! It’s funny how I left New York the same way I found it—cloudy, dreary, wet, a sorry shot of the city itself—like a 30 second music clip that doesn’t showcase the best melodies of a song. 

Before I left, I tried to capture my college life in a few videos. For three hours, I recorded my “average” day: My walk to school, my favorite food spots, hangouts, my friends, my workplace…I showed them to my sister when I came home today. We sat on the couch with the TV going on obnoxiously in the background, and I fast forwarded through my selfmade “Day-in-the-Life-Of.” The videos were so bad. They were shaky and bad resolution, and they didn’t capture my day at all. And I realized from my growing frustration that even though I always complain about NYU, Stern especially, I’ve actually come to like it! Like it a lot—I’m not sure. But I’m definitely proud of my school, be it our great dining halls or prestigious—and notoriously old—professors. And though my second semester wasn’t everything I had hoped for (in terms of academics), I felt like it’s when I finally let loose and, cheesy as it sounds, found my bearings, and a community.

I really don’t know what I’ll do with myself these next three months. But since I won’t be going back to New York anytime soon, I’m determined to milk the most out of this summer! Read more for my friends’ and my Summer ‘12 Bucket List (courtesy of several Tumblr blogs):

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