Honesty

I feel as though I've been lied to. That all the old adages of "Opposites attract" and "Whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger" are actually false, created to explain something that no one else could come up with scientific evidence to prove or disprove. I mean, really, opposites don't attract; if that were the case, I would be in a relationship with a no good, lying dirtbag who would probably spend way too much money on things and care too little about people around him. The only good thing about that saying is that boys and girls are opposites, which is considerably important to me. And while, yes, if I'm not dead, I must be getting stronger, I feel this only applies to workouts (which can actually kill you... a rarity, but still possible). Everything else just drains you until it's too late to realize that you've actually learned something from it and you're back to that uphill battle.

But if there's one maxim that really drives me bonkers is that "Honesty is the best policy."

It's just not true.

On the surface, it seems like a really great idea. Yeah, telling people the truth is always good. If you're lying to someone else then where does that leave you? With a story to remember and a secret to cover. Plus, if you're being truthful with someone, you have a very specific reason to have told that person your thoughts. They may want to know if that cookie is a good idea or if this outfit is acceptable for a date or if their bald cat really is adorable and so smooth to pet. All things that, when asked about, usually require a fairly honest answer.

I've learned otherwise.

Like, when you need to talk to a professor about how this class is going to be challenging, don't tell him that you're feeling really unmotivated for this class and would like a suggestion about how to really get into the material, expecting a helpful answer but being met with "You should consider a different major."
Or, if you are really frustrated with someone and have been for a while and want them out of your life and you start telling them all the little irks and pet peeves you have with them, from being attached or being too aloof, and then being met with extreme guilt afterward when you think about your actions and how maybe, just maybe, you shouldn't have said that because you're just justifying their actions and allowing for explanation and excuses and they really won't change.
Or, being sort of honest through a witty joke (which is a mistake to begin with) and having them react in a not so savory way and being surprised at their reaction because you always joke with them about these things but have been walking around on eggshells for a while because you were afraid of their explosive temper and thinking it was safe to go back in the water only to be met with contempt and an acrid face and one syllabic answers.
Or telling someone that you aren't doing so well in a class, hoping that they will relate, but instead going off on how they understand everything they're learning, solved a problem for NASA, and won Miss America and it's not even Thursday yet.
Or showing someone your true feelings about a subject or a person and then letting them walk all over you because they have something to combat your sarcastic remarks with something not so sarcastic and more realistic and painful, all because you trusted them to take your honesty to heart and not to betray you and possibly try to show that they are someone who you would like to be friends with because you share these things now but only end up being kicked whilst down.

I'm glad I can be so honest; some people even have trouble saying 'yes' when they mean 'no.' But it's really difficult when you are so honest and you do lay your heart out on the table and others just take a sledgehammer and pound it a couple of times as you watch your words and blood and compassion and thoughts get splattered on the wall, dripping slowly down as you sink deeper and deeper into self-doubt and guilt and depreciation. Morbid? Yes. But being honest? Even more so.

Things I Think About In The Shower

Today, like most Wednesdays, I took a shower. It was a nice shower, pretty typical of any other day, but I was sure to rinse the shampoo out of my hair really well since I usually forget and end up with greasy bits later on that I despise and wish I could wash out but then that would just be another shower so I live with it until I shower again which is usually every other day since showering a lot is supposedly damaging to your hair after all.

But I digress.

Today, as I recall, I was thinking about a lot of things during this little jaunt with the faucet. Here is my list of things I was thinking about:

1.

Prolific, yes? I could write a novel about it! Watch out Melville and Chopin, I am taking your books down!
But really, I can't remember a thing about that which I was thinking.

Maybe there's something about the feeling of water, running through your hair (greasy or not), caressing your brain, stimulating it to make it so that all the right areas are shooting off action potentials at the same time and leading to complete and utter understanding of the universe and how to solve illiteracy and how to make that boy in the grocery really fall in love with you and how to train a cat to fetch the paper while riding a skateboard. All of these incredible, life-changing thoughts that are just swimming through your head (pun partially intended) and you just know that you're going to remember them all and then you finish ridding yourself of all the soap residue and then... nothing.

I'm not entirely sure why this happens. It may be, as you step out of the little basin to fetch your towel, your brain telling you "hey, it's kind of cold out here," as if prioritizing how it's feeling. Doesn't it know that you just solved the impossible sudoku in the paper today that you hadn't even seen yet?! If my body can manage being exposed to the dreadful air for a few moments before snuggling up in a robe then it follows that my brain should take heed and do the same. Selfish. That's what I have to say about you, dearest brain.

So I propose to you, a theory of sorts. There is a possibility that showers in the winter cause more brain damage than those during the winter. I wonder these things (not while in the tub) and consider the idea that the air temperature is quite a bit colder in your presumably tiled bathroom (especially if your housemate/mother/dog likes to keep it at a colder temperature than it is outside), so I make the claim that winter showering is hazardous to your brain functioning because of the cold air. So my obvious solution is to shower only in the summer when you can step out into a watmer, more pleasant atmosphere.

I will test this theory out in six months. Hopefully I don't think of anything conclusive and mind-boggling when I'm showering.

Excited

Today, I am excited about my life.

I haven't felt a high like this in quite some time and now, I am more than content with being single, young, and ready for the world and whatever God puts in front of me. It's quite freeing, really.

I'm usually rather distraught about my seemingly dismal future, but I feel as though I have a lot of prospects and that everything is so available for me to experience. My mantra, from now on, is going to be "I will not be afraid to live my life."

It's enthralling! Life is just glorious!

Graduate School

Since my freshman year of college, I've been really back and forth about whether or not I want to go to graduate school. One month, I'm all for the idea, ready to pack up my bags right now and ship off to a different school full of intellectuals and socially-staved students. I want to be surrounded by those that consider themselves to have a greater purpose in the world, those who want nothing more than to create some new idea in their short lives. Wouldn't it be lovely to be the student who frequents coffee shops, not only to stay awake for some research activity, but to chat with others in my field and otherwise. We'll all sit around, brooding about the life and times of the human condition, smoking expensive cigarettes and wearing all black (maybe not that last bit). And we'll be genuinely excited about what we are doing in our respective areas, eager and willing to share any new tidbit of information we may have picked up from a passing comment to and fro and between professors and advisers and fellow colleagues. To be sure, I am romanticizing it quite a bit, taking what few cues I have from movies and literature (intelligent or not). Regardless though, these notions exist for some reason; there must be some sliver of truth of them. And to be in an atmosphere such as that... I would definitely be more than content.

But then, another month rolls around, and I find myself thinking terrible thoughts about school as a whole institution (no pun intended). My undergraduate career has been... less than spectacular (I think I've ranted about that in an earlier posting... it probably isn't too fulfilling of an argument) and I find university life to be a waste of my time, money, and energy. I am less than passionate about my current major and am finding myself regretting choosing mathematics after a year of indecision. I was in such inner turmoil that I felt it necessary to seek counseling services through my school in order to help me pick a major. After two semesters of that anguish (you may think I'm being dramatic, but you would be mistaken), I found myself content with my classes for about a semester. In retrospect (blasted hindsight), I think I would have been better off with a math minor. My enjoyment of math ceased to exist when the classes started becoming more challenging (read: when I became intolerably lazy) and I have discovered my passions lie elsewhere. Math is great fun and all and I am rather good at the calculus and statistics portion, but show me a proof and I'll tell you that it's correct because a dead guy proved it long ago and redundancy is silly.
You see my dilemma.
I also believe that I picked my major for the wrong reasons. As a back story, I recall going to counseling because I needed to make a decision where I didn't feel "stuck" for my future. I desired options and was frustrated that I felt like I was settling for some sub-par major at a sub-par school (I was originally a business major). I was rather high on my horse and thought remarkably of my intelligence. My friends told me I was smart and would always come to me for help when they didn't understand something. So, naturally, being "stuck" at an in-state college nicknamed "Not A University" did wonders for my confidence in my abilities. The friends that once came to me for their school needs now expressed disappointment in my choice of university. Though I wouldn't have admitted it until now, I was also disappointed in my choice. This was probably why I chose math as my major. I believed that, even if I didn't completely love it, it would make me look smart and like an excellent student. My parents suggested that a math degree would be looked favorably upon, no matter where I received it, so maybe it wouldn't have mattered where I attended undergraduate.
But it did to me.
I know I could have been accepted into a more highly favored university and probably would have received enough scholarships and aid... had I tried. To be fair, and to brag a little, I did apply to transfer to USC after my freshman year and was accepted. Telling my friends the news made them feel like I wasn't just giving up on my intelligence and that I had a fighting chance in the world to redeem my name. But, alas, it was still astronomically expensive and my donors (read: my parents) disagreed that a more expensive college would be worth the money.
But would it have been?
From my perspective, I'm surrounded by a lot of in-state students who chose to come here because of the proximity and the cost. I'm not knocking it at all, since the closeness to home was a major factor in my decision and I have a scholarship for in-state schools to pay for my full tuition. But as I've aged and, hopefully, become wiser, the students that I am surrounding myself with seem to abhor school. And from my observations, a good portion of them seem to be in-state students as well, saying this was their choice because it is cheaper and closer to home. Maybe I've picked the wrong people to surround myself with though, and then the folly is mine. Of course, not all of my interactions have been as such, so this is rather general. But, regardless, there is some correlation there. Maybe it's something to consider, to see if the correlation does imply causation.
And yes, I've toyed with the notion that maybe all schools are like this, which I'm sure holds its weight in water, but is it to the extent of which I've experienced it? Maybe by paying more for tuition and by completely surrounding oneself with a new environment, the catalyst for change in behaviors is more rapid or more enduring. It may be possible that those who are paying a pretty penny for an education may work harder in order to get their money's worth, rather than knowing that they can slack off. Additionally, and generally speaking, those who's tuition is higher will usually go to an institution that has a lot more opportunities in terms of research or class offerings or intriguing faculty. Mostly, in my understanding, the student environment will be different and those with limited acceptance rates especially will have a more prestigious group of people gathered there.
To finally tie it back to graduate schools, maybe had I been in a different environment, I would have picked a more appropriate major and been more secure in my decision for postgraduate pursuits. Maybe I would have ended up the same: unsure about my future education, unhappy in a major, and unsatisfied with my college life. Maybe I would have found all of this academic satisfaction but been lacking in something else that I could have lamented about here. Who even knows, really?

Maybe this post wasn't even about graduate school. Maybe it was about taking risks. I know I didn't take any when I was applying to college. If there's anything I truly regret in life, it was not applying to other universities. Maybe I would have been more confident in my choice, whatever it was. I at least hope I wouldn't have these dreadful thoughts looming about, taunting me with a potentially better life.
So many "what ifs?" that are regretfully unanswered.

Maybe graduate school could be a good restart for me.

If I ever make up my mind, that is... Part II, anyone?

Availability

I think I make myself too available, all the time. I don't know how to say "no" to anything or anyone. I'm hard pressed to really reject anyone outright. I will sacrifice a lot in order to make sure that others are happy, even if I don't like the outcome. Others take advantage of my willingness to say yes. Maybe it's just me, but don't people realize that I have my own stuff too? Don't they have the decency to realize that even if they have nothing going on that others may have things they need to do? That they are, unfortunately to them, not the center of my world?
People just come to my door, expecting me to say yes to everything. And they're correct.

It's an awful problem that I wish could be fixed.

South Korea

So, to apply for studying abroad in South Korea, I had to pay a, sort of, preliminary application fee. Not a big deal, right?

WRONG!

I've realized that I've basically just committed to applying and going through with studying abroad, hopefully somewhere in Seoul.

Whoa.

Is this real life? Am I really going to be in a different country soon?

I still can't believe I'm going through with this. But I'm so incredibly excited too! All aboard the Study Abroad Express! Next stop, finishing my application. Should be fun.

What I'm Looking For

Whoa buddy, another post, coming your way!

I don't think I've ever updated this much in... probably ever. But I think I've got a direction now, unlike that last post. I apologize if anyone fell asleep or felt like I was just going on and on and on. But I digress.

So lately, I've been feeling pretty different from my usual self. Usually, I'm happy and cheerful and people-pleasing and studious and caring and smart and all these things I've been used to.

This has not really been happening.

I'm cranky, upset easily, not so studious, angry, depressed, scared, annoyed easily, lonely, off my game, and all these things I really don't like and all these things that I felt my last two years of high school. If you know me at all, you'll know I hated those two years.

I don't think I'm trying to relive my high school years, but I am trying to learn from it and I am, in a way, comparing how I was to how I am, which has some mixed results. But, here I am, trying to move away from my past and I feel like I'm being sucked back into it. So, in order to pull myself away from this unhappiness I've been feeling lately, I'll make a list of things that would probably make me really happy.

1. God.

Okay, so this one is definitely one that would for sure make me happy, without a doubt. Somehow, between when summer ended and school started, God has been lost in the shuffle. It hurts me to say that, and I'm ashamed to admit it, but it's true. I can't really lie about it. I don't read my Bible as much anymore. I don't go to church (I think I've been three times this semester). I don't spend my quality time with Christians. I don't do Bible study anymore. I feel isolated from it all.

Yeah, I can change all of that, no problem. I could find a group to go to church with. I could start reading my Bible right now. I could get someone to do a Bible study with me. I could easily find some Christians to hang out with more often. But I'm not. I'm scared that I'm not. I know that God will "take me back" and I know that He's so great and so powerful that it's really no big deal for him to wrap His arms around me again. But I just can't do it. I think it's got something to do with me believing that people won't accept me, that they'll think of me as a hypocrite for going back and forth so much. But, really, what does that matter? What does matter is that I'm right with God, right? Yeah. I guess I'm not getting that.

2. Finishing school.

I'm burnt out. I have, after this semester, two more to go. And I swear, it feels like pulling teeth. I'm sure I mentioned it somewhere in my last post that I used to be so dedicated to school and grades and learning, but now I'm very 'meh' about it. Not sure how I feel about feeling 'meh' but I know that I want to be done.

I know I'm smart, and I know I'm capable of doing everything, but it hurts to know that I'm paying all this money for a major I don't even like, for an education that I don't really care all that much about anymore. Maybe I've been hanging out with the wrong people (see above) and they're influencing me to feel this way. Actually, that's definitely what's happening.

I keep recalling this past summer, when I worked a 40-hour a week job. I would get up at 6:30 everyday to be to work at 8, leave at 4:30, come home, eat, relax, and go to sleep at 10:30. It was awesome. Routines really have a special place in my heart. I think this college thing, this no routine thing is messing with my mind. Okay, fine, there is sort of a routine about college and everything, but I just can't seem to find it. I feel like I'm just wandering about, still trying to find out what I want to do with my life, what really gets my motor running, what friends are good to have, what foods are good to eat (food is important to me, you have no idea). And, again, FINE, no one probably has it figured out and even if they do, it doesn't really matter, because nothing ever really works out the way it's planned. There's always some kink in the chain, something that sort of holds you back from really achieving everything you dreamed about.

Not that it's a bad thing. Those kinks in the chain are usually the ones that create a huge knot of excitement in your stomach, coming at you from left field, hitting you square on, making you wake up and realize that this is where you are supposed to be right now. Again, I have a difficult time realizing that.

3. Food.

Oh goodness. So since about the middle of 2011 or so, I've started to realize my passion for food. I mean, I've always really enjoyed food, eating and creating it, and I feel like I have a knack for this, but it's really taken over my life recently. I love cooking, baking, chopping, sauteing, cleaning the dishes, and feeling a satisfaction inside when I eat good food or make good food or hear about people enjoying good food. Man, it's really awesome. I've been going back and forth with the idea that maybe "food" is where I'm supposed to be. Yes, I know above I said that I didn't know what I wanted, but in a way, it's true. I don't know what I'm going to be doing exactly, I don't have a "dream job" that everyone my age seems to have, but I do know that somehow it will involve food.

Does that mean working in a restaurant? Sure, why not. Does this mean owning my own bakery? Yes, that sounds really nice. How about working in catering? As stressful as I've heard it can be, I'm pretty sure I could do it. Does this mean making dinner every night for a family I have? I am all about that.

Do you see my issue?

Maybe it really doesn't seem like a big issue to others, but it's big to me. Maybe this means I'm in the wrong major right now. Maybe I'm meant to go to culinary school after this. Maybe I'm supposed to get married and just cook for my family (honey, I will make you all the sandwiches you want, I just want to feed you). And on that note...

4. A boyfriend.

Right. This will be a sticky one to get out of.

So I'm going to put it out there and say I've never had a boyfriend. Simple as that. But I don't get jealous of others when I hear about their successful boyfriend stories (I actually really like to live vicariously through others and their relationships). It gives me hope to know that somewhere out there, God-willing, is a man that's perfect for me as my friends' significant others are for them. But there's something about the idea of a boyfriend that is just so appealing to me. Call me a hopeless romantic, call me boy crazy, I just love love. I love that someone is there for you whenever. I love that these two lives can converge together into something harmonious. I love finding your "other half" or finding someone to "complete you" or finding someone to "complement you." It's just a beautiful thing. Mind you, I don't think I'm in the market to just date around or just have some pretend relationship with (somehow, right now I got extreme déjà vu too... weird), but I would like to date someone to eventually get married. Heck, if my first boyfriend turns out to be my husband, that's fine by me! I guess it's just a matter of being patient and open to letting love into my life.

Somehow I feel like I've completely contradicted everything I've said above with this one point, but I'm sure humans are very contradictory anyway.

But anyway, where was I? Right. Boyfriends. After thinking about it a while though, maybe I'm just looking for a best friend. Not someone who's life centers around me (I can't handle having to be someone's life), but someone who, when everything is said and done and the ashes are all that's left, that person will be there for me when I need them. I just want a constant companion, someone who cares enough to let me into their heart, someone who wants me just the way I am, someone who lets me have my space, someone who calls me out on the stuff I need to be reminded of, someone who has faith strong enough to help me not to falter like I'm sure I will, someone who thinks I'm beautiful, someone who can help me through life's problems, someone who will laugh at me, someone who will make me feel special, someone who I can feel comfortable enough arguing with, someone who has differing opinions than me, someone who can give me 100% even if they're not feeling 100% all the time, someone who likes cats too, someone who appreciates a good meal, someone who can reach up and kill the spiders I'm too afraid will fall on my head, someone who loves to spend time with me. But don't get me wrong, I'm not just looking for all of that and then who expects nothing in return from me. No way, if I found someone who expected all of that and more from me, I would probably be set.

I don't think my expectations are too unrealistic. I don't really even care what he looks like... well, okay, that's a lie. But if he's even remotely attractive to me, we're good. I don't care what job he has. I don't care if he's American or not. I don't care where we live. I don't care where we first meet or where we get married or how many kids we have or what we do every weekend. It's just love I'm looking for.

I think I got out of that one just fine.

This is pretty much all I've got right now. Maybe I'm too future oriented. Maybe I'm unrealistic in all that I've said. Maybe I'm just PMS-ing. Maybe I just need to get out more. I don't know, but here's my current list.