Life Updates and Musings

img_3061Life is…good. My legs are sprinkled with mosquito bites from sitting by the lake. We went for a walk, or at least attempted to, this evening after driving around the city looking for tacos and ogling big houses. We wandered around the area, criss-crossed through neighborhoods, got back home just in time to see the sunset.img_4335

Yesterday we saw buffalo mulling by the street. So we parked right by them as cars whizzed by and put Kendrick Lamar’s King Kunta on blast and repeat. We snapped the buffalo (buffalo! Can you believe it?) Then we saw two ducks I swear flew over from my neighborhood, as well as a little bunny that stood frozen 15 ft away as he tried luring her in with mint gum.

All of which has been temporarily documented on my Snapchat. Even though Instagram stories has a wider audience, Snapchat feels more personal. I guess it’s mostly who’s in the audience that differs as well–Instagram includes high school acquaintances, college friends, friends from outside of school, etc. Whereas Snapchat’s mostly comprised of people I met in high school. The space within SC is smaller, but I feel like I can better be myself, or at least see others being themselves.

Anyways. Saw some friendios over the weekend: sipped boba with FS, danced and painted with AV. Seeing some more friendios this weekend. Well, tomorrow, then Friday and Saturday. Sunday’s mine. It’s been a while since I’ve seen them, but I miss ’em. So it’ll be good to catch up.

And work’s been fun as well. Going by incredibly quickly, might I add. I like it most when my co-workers are around–sometimes they’re busy or out of office, and then it’s a little drab and I drink too much coffee. But I’m really happy when the others are in and I can talk to them and attend little meetings here and there. I like having to do a good amount of work as well. I realize that, and I don’t necessarily see it as a bad thing, I don’t often do things ahead of time. My bf does, and sometimes I’ll marvel at it. Like, I procrastinate. I get my shit done, and I usually do it quickly, but I generally don’t do it way before I need to. I mean, Adam Grant writes that procrastination can lead to greater creativity, so…let’s procrastinate! Kidding, but not really. I had a huge tendency to push all my long essays at the last minute, so I was cranking out ten pages the day it was due. No ragrets. Actually, no, I regretted it every time.

That’s just me being schooly. Speaking of which, a lot of people I knew in high school (I accidentally blurted out ‘hate school’ the other day when I told my bf to not talk about it. You know that phrase that you can hate with a fiery passion? I hated my high school environment with a fiery passion. I’m also tired of trying to explain the roots of fiery hatred, like I have to justify it with some sort of persuasive slideshow equipped with logos, pathos, ethos. Feelings are valid. That includes my fiery hatred. That I love everything else in my life only attests to the particular special hatred I have reserved for it)…have finished school.

It makes me wonder where they’ll go after. What they’ll do after. At my uni, there’s a huge pre-professional push. And as much as we bitch and moan about it, we end up producing a helluva lot of successful people. It’s the norm to have full time decent-paying jobs in big cities upon graduation (if not before). And then after, give or take ten years, they’re millionaires cruising down Wall St. or situated big tech companies or running blogs or news organizations I drool over because these people, they’re brilliant. I have a little pocket of pride that goes specifically towards my university. Alumni blow my mind; I’m quietly impressed by people who’ve been accepted, either into undergrad or grad. Like, I have some lowkey pride for my school. Did I always like it? No way. But am I proud to go there? Totes my goats.

It’s just a bubble, though. What about the rest of the world, people who don’t go to this particular university? What about friends or acquaintances who’ve only just graduated? Do they leap into full-time 8-5’s, the aspirational norm for my school’s grads? And is that as easy as people from my school make it seem? I mean, I don’t know. I’ll admit that I’m rather curious about where life’ll take these people, because according to the dry template of life, after graduation, we weave into those 8-5’s. That becomes the quilt of life. Even though I’m not doing the 8-5 at the moment, I’m really enjoying my work and job, so I’m not as afraid as I was a year or two ago.

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Also. Last thing, I know this is getting rather long. I started an account documenting my past few years in university. I’d found a whole bunch of ticket stubs, news clippings and letters that I kept. The sentimental chunk in me (it comprises a big part) decided to make a scrapbook, but also start up a digital account to share images and updates with people who made those years as dope as they could possibly be. I made a scrapbook in high school, but it was a lie. I knew it was a lie when I made it. And, years later, the rose-colored goggles of the past can’t deny: it was a lie. Surprisingly, you can have happy moments in a shitty place you can’t wait to leave. We had to write some sort of letter, essay-explanation that looked back on our years then. I started with the quote:

Can I be frank? I fucking hated that place and even now, can’t fully explain why. The only conclusion I can come to is that something that’s good for one person might not always be good for another. Maybe someone else thrives in an unchanging environment filled with the same people in the same buildings for ten plus years, but by God, I cannot. I did not. I need stimulation, new people, weird challenges. I want opportunities to be spontaneous and impulsive, to try new things. Every few months, I want to get up and go, venture into the city, fly to another state, drive somewhere I’ve never been. To have been cooped up in some building for that long–what a joke. The people were nice, but that scrapbook was a lie. I did not have as good of a time as I looked. I do a lot of mental surgery to disassociate current friends from that place. But sometimes I fail. And so I seethe at them, even those who made things bearable.

Spitting fire doesn’t make me the life of the party, I get it. This’ll offend the first person who sat next to me in sophomore history. But writing this out, even if it outdated or bitter or crusty, is therapeutic in it of itself. Like talking about something that makes you uneasy, that’s why writing about this does. It releases, it rids. And even though life is the best I could have ever imagined it–no, I don’t think I could have even imagined this, and that makes it better–I’ll note that this is still here, the disbelief that I was in an environment I found to be so goddamn shitty. Subjectively speaking, of course.

See, right now, I’m so happy. With my relationship, my friends, my family, my school, my job. But even amid all this happiness, knowing that yes, looking forward did take me to a fun-tastic future, I sometimes still feel clouds of resentment looming. And instead of feeling exasperated having to explain it to people who give me weird looks for my fiery hatred, I’m just going to air it out, let it be. Write about it. Be ridiculously frank about it. In retrospect, I don’t know why I needed others’ understanding of my feelings to validate them. If there’s anything I picked up in college, it’s that you’re better off not seeking validation; we all live in our own little bubbles, anyways. It makes the feeling of understanding all the more richer. When somebody understands, really understands, or at least tries to, it’s like striking gold. Really.

Anyhow. This turned out to be a far longer “musing” post than I anticipated. Largely stream of consciousness. Since I haven’t been writing much in the past few weeks, this feels like a relief I can’t even put into words. But I guess I already did.

Deuces

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March 6th, 2017: BYE, FELICIA

I wish you could break up with friends the way you do romantic partners. So instead of feeling obligated to drag on friendships long past their expiration date, you could say something like: hey, yeah, so you’ve draining and snarky and judgmental all these years. I’m not sure I like being around you, and it’d be real nice if you quit dragging me down. This isn’t working out. I’m finding kinder and stabler people to be in my life. Deuces. 

But then that’d start all sorts of shit. And ain’t nobody got time for that.

Let Go

You’ll never need people who bring you down. Who relentlessly judge, pry or criticize you. People who are unkind, then kind, then unkind. People who don’t respect you. People who are unsupportive. People who are jealous. People who superimpose their world beliefs onto you and judge you accordingly. People who are untrustworthy, people with big mouths, people who are manipulative, people who just want something from you.

There are a handful of people who, granted, may care for you, love you, might even be good to you, but are not good for you.

And there will be–are, present-tense–those who’ll bring you up. Who support you, are there for you, are genuinely understanding. They’re reliable. You’re there for each other when times are shitty; you’re there for each other when times are good. There’s mutual trust. Mutual respect. No drama, no petty shit-shows, just honest-to-God communication and understanding. There are people who give and take–no, not take, but accept. Each other. They meet you halfway. Initiative splits 50/50. Every conversation or hangout ends in happiness because that’s what good people are supposed bring to your life: happiness and support and positivity. I know, this is cheesy as fuck. But let me be cheesy here.

There’s no need to go on some sort of giant relationship purge. But it doesn’t hurt to take stock of the relationships in life to get a general idea of whether they bring you up or drag you down. Sometimes it’s both; it’s not always one way or another. Make wiggle room for growth and forgiveness–we’re all shitty hurting people at some point in time. But negative trends and toxicity are no-go’s. So…let go.