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Showing posts with label
Trivial things that aren't so trivial to me.
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Showing posts with label
Trivial things that aren't so trivial to me.
Show all posts
I'm that girl who knew a lot of people in high school but could count the number of super close friends on one hand. And even though we've separated and don't talk as often, I can pick up the phone and call any one of them and it's as though nothing has passed and I'm in the room with them, drinking lattes and looking through magazines with hot men on the covers.
Meet Jacqueline (Jackie/Jack-Attack/Fashion Jackie), one of the truest, bluest pals a girl could ever ask for. I was lucky enough to see my on-the-move best friend before she jets off to-get this-New York to intern for Cosmo and The Knot magazines. Simultaneously. Man, you are a slacker, Jackie. Get on that, would ya ;) ? Through high school it was always me, Jackie, and our other third of the triangle, Carolyn (Caro/Blue Eyes/YO GIRL):
Picture taken in a Starbucks lot, year 2006-7ish. Carolyn, the blunt, "don't-hurt-my-friends-or-I'll-cut-you" one; Jackie, the fashionista and not-so-closeted music nerd, ready to take over the world with her magnificent style and sharp writing; and me. I hate doing me. The dreamer? The actor? The worrier? The therapist? Probably all of the above.
We've definitely had our ups and downs sometimes, but really, it was more ups than anything. It didn't matter what was going on at the time; if one was in trouble (and of course, true to girl-fashion, it could be a myriad of things: boys, clothes, families, other girls, typical adolescent crying jags...), the other two would be there to fix things. And if we couldn't necessarily fix that something, we would do the next best thing: pig out on Brueggers and Starbucks and watch trashy television shows. While Carolyn's been beaching it up at Wilmington and Jackie's sporting her own true blue Carolina colors, I, being crazy busy with all things Meredith, haven't had much time to talk to them. I've seen each one separately but we all haven't been a united triangle front.
But ya know what?
If I were in trouble, I would still call them. And they would come running. And this is why, five years later, we're still going strong.
Oh, and:
Meet Puck. Yes, I named him after hot Puck on Glee. But also because he reminds me of the character Puck from Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream and he shoots around like a hockey puck, clawing, meowing, and yes, farting. He's my man on four furry legs.
Want to know a secret? I'm not that happy about exams ending. See, the thing is a lot of my friends are super excited about being top dog around our beloved campus and are already plotting post-Cornhuskin' practice Cook Out runs, wonderful fall break trips, and ideas about-gulp-what to do after. That's where I'm not so keen on saying I'm a senior...this whole "after" business. But I remember, I was like this when high school was about to end. I refused to say that I was officially a college freshie until I was actually on Meredith's campus...and I'm smiling because though these years have flown by, they really have been the best.
So maybe, juuuuust maybe, when I'm done on Friday at noon, after all of my exams and papers have been turned in, I'll take a chance...and say that I'm a senior. Here goes...
It's really hard for me to start things. Like my thesis for example. I feel like every time I type in a topic sentence it sounds so cliche: "Holden Caulfield was us and we were Holden Caulfield," "Catcher in the Rye still catches today," and my personal not-so-favorite: "It was the sentence that changed adolescence forever-" Cue Star Wars music and my adviser vomiting and giving me a failing grade. So far the things I'm trying to start are all things that could potentially change my life, be it GPA-wise or experience-wise:
1) My thesis: Adviser reads this, adviser grades this, adviser talks to the head of the department and tells her whether I suck or rock at a major that is potentially going to serve me usefully as I cobble my future together.
2) Living in the city after graduation: I should be looking at possible jobs. I should be looking at possible apartments. But when I do, I begin to get that sinking feeling in my stomach that signifies an immense panic attack (that can only be cured by watching Grey's Anatomy and having some coffee handy).
3) The GRE: Another torturous form of the SAT via computers. Same old song and dance: ace the English, do so-so on the math. I think what's worse is that when you get an answer wrong it tells you on the spot. "WRONG-go back one level, minion!"
4) Cleaning my room: The carpet has become like another shelf, housing a big blue bin that is spilling with (clean) clothes that need to be folded. I wade through a mass of papers, books, spotless tupperware, and c.d's. In the middle of the night when I had to get up to pee, I stumbled over my sock box and scattered argyle everywhere. And yet. It has been almost a month and I refuse. Maybe this is a sign that unless my room becomes uncluttered my life won't.
5) Accepting that not all relationships can last: This one just sucks a big one. Self-explanatory.
6) Sitting at a table to do work: Every time I try to start doing this, I get called by my mattress-topped bed with the down comforter that could stop a war and make everyone hug: "Oh, Kiran. You don't want to work in that uncomfortable space. Come lean against your boyfriend (pillow) and do your research here." And I wonder why I have the neck and back of an eighty-year-old man.
7) Realizing that our microwave is now dead: Ants invaded. Roommate sprayed with deadly insecticide. Other roommate tried to wash it out with soap and water (I want you pause and think about this one). Microwave went into an irreversible coma. RIP all things defrosted. Hello stovetop oatmeal.
Starting to realize these things is just hard-there is no "especially number five." All of these things are equally yucky in their own ways. And yet. I have a feeling that if I keep nagging myself to not go into hysterics and get these things done, I'll be able to figure it all out (one can only tolerate boiling water on the stove for so long).
Here's to when that day comes.
Staying up late, wearing sweats, hair sticking out at all random places, and trying really hard not to scream? Yup, it's the mid-term week before spring break, coined not-so-affectionately as Hell Week. Sheesh. If I had known when I was young that biology and math were going to plague me with trouble as I got older, I would've listened to tapes before I went to bed. Einstein I am not. This week brings along with it three exams, a few papers, thesis books that need to be read, and insanity taking over the brain. But at the same time, I know this crazy week will be replaced by another crazy week which will be replaced by another crazy week...it goes on. March Madness has taken on a new meaning! However I have a plum lot to look forward to because for the break, I am going to D.C with some lovely friends of mine.
Last year when I went, I hung out with Amy, Kasey, and Kellie, and we had the best time. However, this year's been a little different.I'm not going to lie. There were moments when I did not want to go because of occurrences that made me want to scream, cry, and made me wonder if my sanity was worth foregoing. And yet, this past weekend made me see a little clearer.
Kellie and I volunteered at the Buddy Basketball game where children with special needs can show off their serious game. I got to see some of the most adorable kids run around and have fun, all with the biggest smiles on their faces. And it made me realize at how trivial this whole spring break thing was, and that there are some things that are more important than things that in the long run really won't shape who you are as a person. Watching these kids were so inspiring and so eye-opening. It was a beautiful way to spend my Saturday.
And so, I'm really looking forward to spending some quality time with my friends and exploring the parts of DC that we didn't get to. Here's to getting through mid-term week! Buena suerte!
There are days when things just don't stop. Or rather, I don't stop. I just keep going and going and going, be it with school or work or my thesis...sometimes even fun things like socializing can be a chore. So today, I stopped. I stopped and came straight home after I got done at 1:30. I made myself some lunch (a delicious toasted sandwich and a huge bowl of grilled veggies) and just chilled out while I cooked.
Then I started again. Only this time with something that I love doing: catching up with old friends.
I skyped with my friend Brittany, who is this amazing, amazing friend of mine. She's teaching in Spain right now and has been going on all of these exciting adventures (she's heading out to Morocco tomorrow!) but still remains the same thoughtful, sensible, and hilarious individual that I know and love dearly. Bri's one of those girls who you can have a serious heart-to-heart with but never feel stupid. Lately I've been going through a lot about what I want to do with my life and even though she's a sea away, she still manages to reassure me that no, I am not crazy and that yes, no matter what I do I will be successful. Plus Brittany always has the funniest stories about the chicos in Spain, so it's always fun to get a taste of the culture :) (Core-100, much?).
Megan is another story. Megan Emily would probably be the queen of the Ya-Ya's, were such a group to exist. She is this bright, colorful, extremely entertaining ladysoul who is in Wallace, which is a little NC town right near Wilmington. She always has a wild story, cute shoes, and new hair to sport. Megan and I have this thing we do: we don't talk for ages, but somehow when we do, it's like time hasn't stopped. I'm reading this book right now called The Girls from Ames which is about eleven women who have been the best of friends since they were in the womb and are in their forties now. It's been so inspiring to read and one moment I'm reading about the spitfire named Kelly and the next thing I know I'm reaching for my phone, pressing the familiar buttons to dial Meg's number. The second she picked up the phone there was no awkward, "Hello?" the kind where you know the person who is calling (caller i.d., y'all, really) but still feel obligated to sound confused, but a, "Hello, lovely, what are you doing?" familiar Southern drawl that just envelopes you in a hug. With Megan there's no pretending. There's no judging. Actually it's the same for Brittany and Megan. I've never felt more relaxed when I talk to those two. Talking to Megan about weddings and people being arrested on the sides of the road and boys named Rufus made me ache to be in her adorable house that her mother decorated in an equally charming way, sipping on Starbucks and looking through old pictures and listening to music. We've decided to have a reunion of our own, Ames-style: the girls of Heilman Hall from freshmen year at the beach. So exciting.
After I got off the phone with Megan, I thought about the far-away and how sometimes when your friends are "far-away" you feel disconnected. I don't feel that way, though. After today, I feel more connected with two very special people who live in that far-away than I do with those who are close by to me.
I'm really glad that instead of going and going today, I stopped.
I started off my morning with a fall. It was fifty degrees and sunny so I thought I was safe wearing my Sperry shoes, but alas, I was so wrong. I went down my apartment steps, slid a little bit into the other set of stairs and it all went downhill from there (literally). I was a ping-pong ball and ricocheted off of an old tan colored van and landed on my back on a little still-icy hill. Um, ow. I lay on my back, my books splayed to the side, my backpack jabbing at my back, contemplating granny-crawling up the stairs and back into bed. I took it as a sign that this just was not the best day. But I didn't want to be absent from class this early in the game (I had to think about the days in the next couple months that I would need a true-blue mental health day), so I got up and hobbled to my car, still sliding, holding onto my books (and what was left of my dignity) for dear life.
You know the day where suddenly it seems like fifty million things are being thrown at you? That was today. A take-home exam, an exam on Monday, a couple papers, and an election candidate card? I thought I was going to pass out. However, I was saved by my lovely, lovely friends who have THE BEST senses of humor. In my math class, which I was slowly dying in, my professor announced that we had an exam. Sheryl (you should read about her below!) transferred to my class today and was sitting beside me (yaaaay). After prof announced that we would have a test (noooo), Sheryl scribbled in her notebook:
"Test on Monday-die before then."
I just about wet myself laughing, partly because it was very, very funny but also because in that moment I realized how lucky I was to have friends who, even when I may be having an off day, can never fail to make me laugh. So amidst seemingly-endless rehearsals, exams, and cups of coffee, I am starting to see that these "off" days can be righted and turned to an "on" day in a heartbeat.
Ever since seeing the movie Love Actually, I have been wanting someone to come to my door and surprise me with hand-written posters that end with "To me, you are perfect." Preferably Gerard Butler, Colin Firth, Hugh Grant...yes, I happen to like the accents as well. As much as I want, well, that, after seeing this gem of a film, I have become obsessed with Martine McCutcheon's (or rather, her character Natalie) red peacoat that she wears towards the end of the film. See for yourself:
In this shot, it may not be the best, but in the movie it grabbed my attention immediately. Complete with that cute sparkly cream-colored hat and we have a winner (as well as a star-struck, er, coat-struck viewer who will rewind the end scene with Martine jumping into Hugh Grant's arms about three times). I want a red peacoat. Badly. There is nothing wrong with my turquoise one aside from the fact that it is turquoise and a loose button. But I want a red one so I can feel like Natalie and imagine myself meeting Hugh Grant.
So I've been scouting for this wonderful find everywhere. A few days ago in New York and Company, I was so close to finding it. I was in the store with my friend Kellie and we saw a rack of peacoats. My eye was immediately drawn to a bright red one and for a moment my teeth almost fell out in excitement because this goal had only been set a few days before, so achieving it so quickly was thrilling. But alas, I decided to try the coat on and not just mindlessly buy it, and of course, I found like, fifty flaws. For one, it's not too long but not to short, so I resemble a stoat with legs that look shorter than they are. And it came with a belt which seemed to emphasize things that should not be emphasized. And it just didn't feel right. Like if I were to see Hugh Grant in the airport, I couldn't imagine jumping on him in that particular red peacoat. It was a total jip from the real thing. So I shall keep looking.
The quest continues.
Meet Jacqueline (Jackie/Jack-Attack/Fashion Jackie), one of the truest, bluest pals a girl could ever ask for. I was lucky enough to see my on-the-move best friend before she jets off to-get this-New York to intern for Cosmo and The Knot magazines. Simultaneously. Man, you are a slacker, Jackie. Get on that, would ya ;) ? Through high school it was always me, Jackie, and our other third of the triangle, Carolyn (Caro/Blue Eyes/YO GIRL):
Picture taken in a Starbucks lot, year 2006-7ish. Carolyn, the blunt, "don't-hurt-my-friends-or-I'll-cut-you" one; Jackie, the fashionista and not-so-closeted music nerd, ready to take over the world with her magnificent style and sharp writing; and me. I hate doing me. The dreamer? The actor? The worrier? The therapist? Probably all of the above.
