It's all the little things that make a day great.
I started on a high note that carried over from last night because I solved the tricky situation of the room mate who turns the heating up to 80 degrees when she feels cold. I thought we had grown out of that phase over the weekend, but she was back in high form last evening. So I confronted her about it, asking what her ideal temperature was, and compromised a bit. I was definitely not planning on playing temperature tag for the rest of the semester...who knows what she'd do with the air conditioning!
Classes went well today. I was validated as an English major when I got an A-/B+ grade on an in-class essay I was sure I had bombed; always a sure picker-upper.
I was excited to actually watch Glee at its official time/place; I don't think I've seen a real time episode since last spring. Being in a foreign country will do that for you. Knowing that the lead singer for the boys a capella group in the show was also the title character in the Youtube sensation A Very Potter Musical and A Very Potter Sequel just makes Glee even better.
I've even enjoyed doing my homework...yeah. That's how intense the good vibes have been today. I'm rereading The Great Gatsby for my Modern American Lit class, and I absolutely love it. I had a moment of mourning yesterday for my 11th grade self who last read the novel four years ago; it's been both enlightening and bizarre to read the notes/see what I highlighted/look at my strange markings that I made in high school. Most of my comments are utterly obvious - e.g. "Daisy isn't happy in her marriage" - but some actually get to the core of the novel's message. (My new favorite thing is to use e.g. and i.e. appropriately in my writing. Almost as much fun as using a semicolon.) I'm having epiphanies left and right as I read, too, as I do with fun kids like Donne and Wilde. I could talk about them all day, though I try not to go on for too long about them in front of my room mates. They're starting to whisper about padded walls and soothing drinks...I know they are...
That said, I have some other cool cats to get to before I go to bed. 17th century love poets, here I come!
...
Now tomorrow's going to be awful.
1. I feel old when professors ask me if I'm a graduate student.
2. I feel so incredibly young when I think about having to prepare for real life in one year unless I go straight on to graduate school.
3. I felt young when I considered living renting an apartment next year and realized I didn't want to because I'd have to clean my own toilet.
4. I feel mature when I order alcohol at dinner and the waiter doesn't ask to see my ID.
5. I feel old when I walk through a freshman dorm with the RA and pass a pack of girls reeking of the cheap vodka that fills their Disani water bottles.
6. I feel sexy when I go out on a Thursday night.
7. I feel thoroughly middle-aged when I have to think of ways to say what I want to my friends, without telling them why, so I avoid drama that will cause them to not be my friends. Even though they might not have been the best of friends in the first place.
8. I feel like a kid when I watch a Disney princess movie.
9. I feel rich when I walk into Target without a shopping list.
10. I feel optimistic.
I need someone to talk to, or at least a way to share what I feel. I'm going to forestall any critics who might appear after reading this post by saying, yes, talking to an online audience, even though I know some of the people who might read this, is a cop out in light of what is going to follow. It's a step in the right direction though, so even though I might not be brave enough to say the following to those who need to hear it most, I am nonetheless saying it to myself. And isn't acceptance the first step to anything worthwhile?
I'm going to be honest. For the first time since I can remember, which probably dates back to some time in junior high. Though who knows...it's late and I'm tired, but I feel a desperate, haunting need to speak the jumbled words and emotions that fill my mind.
So here's my Confession Of The Day: I am a complete pushover. I cannot assert myself, even in daily conversation. I hate making eye contact with acquaintances while walking across campus, and saying hello is completely out of the question; I can never help but think why would that person want to talk to me? I am a people pleaser, even though I try to tell myself that my silent acquiescence is just a manifestation of my desire to make people happy (which I do like to do/am quite talented at, by the way; just ask me about picking out gifts for my dad sometime). I pretend to be dumb about certain things because I don't want to seem arrogant about my intelligence. I never give my own opinion and merely nod along with the prevailing view of those around me.
I wonder what my friends think my views are on the big things...like religion and relationships.
I wonder if anyone knows the truth of who I am. I certainly don't think I do, and I'm not saying that in a I'm-constantly-changing-and-exploring-new-things kind of way.
Part of it is a confidence thing. Part of it is that I, as I like to think, have a great deal of empathy and can understand the validity behind multiple points of view. Part of it is I'm too afraid of social rebuke. I also think part of it comes from being an introvert, i.e. the way I process things around me. I might have a great memory and lightning fast recall, but I tend to think things through methodically and when I don't feel like I have time to do so (which seems to be every conversation I have), my habit is to agree with the person with whom I'm talking. Other things have helped me develop this habit over time, but I think this list hits all the main points.
I've decided to hell with being politically correct. I don't want to start living by a policy of brute honesty, but I want to have my own opinions. I want to be genuinely honest with the people around me about my thoughts and opinions. I want to live by my own code of conduct/fun/morality/what's important, not the one that has been decided upon by my friends.
I've been thinking about this for a while. I said to my friend, Lily, in London, "I tell it like it is." She turned to me and said, "Yeah?" in that questioning/not quite believing tone of voice, but not directly threatening what I said. I didn't really respond to that at the time; I shied away from accepting the truth that she had seen in my life: I didn't stand for anything. I wanted to lie to myself, because it's easy.
So here's to you Lily, for being the wonderful, inspiring, insightful and wise friend who shared a room with me for 3 months in London and showed me the value of one's individual p.o.v. in a world full of followers. I am no longer afraid to figure out who I am and show it to the world, or at least I'm pretending so at the moment.
Though if you pretend for long enough, who's to say if you're still pretending?
