The Huffington Post!!!

I am quoted on the Huffington. Freaking. POST.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2010/03/31/hook-up-culture-at-boston_n_520587.html

Life's work? You begin now.

Admitting my Fears: Part 1 in a Series

Yes, I'm fearful. I'm not talking fears like...fear of deadly spider attacks. I fear that, no doubt, but I am talking about deep emotional fears that get to the core of who I am and shape me as a person.

Last night, I was forced to face one of my fears: that of marrying someone as awful as my father. My mom didn't marry an abusive man; rather, she had no idea what she was getting herself into, and was stuck after that. I never want my life to be ruined by the oppressive influence of someone else, and my strong feelings on that have made me into a person that doesn't trust easily.

So, fear 1: being with someone abusive, manipulative, awful. Psychology tells us that women marry their fathers. May that never, ever be me.

The Boy Breakdown: A Study in Stereotypes

Oh, thank God.

Someone put this into chart form.

Venn diagrams: the only way.

http://photos-d.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-ash1/hs437.ash1/24161_112839222066217_100000204207926_260138_7537770_n.jpg

How many chances do I allow each person until I say enough to the heartbreak?

Punching Bag

I've been doing a lot of punching lately.

And kicking, for that matter.

I've taken up boxing with a punching bag at the gym as of late, and it is the most incredible, addicting stress reliever. It's hard to beat feeling like the most pathetic girl on the face of the planet, only to strap on your hand wraps and out-punch all the fake macho guys at the speed bags next to yours. And I don't even wear real gloves!

Really, though, life has been a blur of stress lately. I have been neglecting normal life and socialization, to an extent, just to make sure I can barely fit it all in. Even as I write this, I am taking time away from the homework that I desperately need to finish. And time from being with my friends that are visiting. And time from sleep, and sanity.

Balance. I'm just not sure it really exists. How can you be the perfect amount of busy? It is always too much, too little, too crazy making in some way. I fear boredom, so I fill up my time with friends and meetings and work. I also fear falling behind. I am a mess, but nothing is new there.

I'm not sure this post has a point, in essence. I have wanted to be reflective and sad and quiet for a few days now, especially with the weather, but I haven't had much time for that. Or, any time. It's day 2 today, aftermath. The aftermath of being slapped in the face by someone who couldn't care less about me. I am so tired of that. So tired of being treated like there is a sign on my forehead that says "Please, use me, mess with me, then humiliate me, because I just love it." That's a long tattoo...but regardless, I keep getting hurt. And you know what? The common denominator in all of this is ME. I leave myself open to meeting people and wanting friendship or dating or whatever the frick it is, and I keep getting punished for it. I finally managed to be open, inviting, whatever it is that I am supposed to be doing, and I keep getting hurt because of that choice.

I'm just...frustrated! And sad. I'm sad-rated. Just, exhausted of the whole thing. I don't play the game or whatnot, but my honesty and willingness to invest in people leaves me ready to be stepped on like crazy. Wouldn't you feel bad leading someone on? I certainly would. I get the excuse that some may not be aware of their actions...but I know that these ones, they have been. Maybe I should stop believing people, believing in people, listening to their words.

But...part of me just CAN'T stop believing in fairytales.

Why Justin Bieber's Musical Career is the Scourge of the Earth, and Other Stories

Ok so I haven't bothered to listen to our newest wunderkind until very recently. Like, today. And what I have found is that this kid takes the loose definition of the title "artist" to an entirely new level. I am done with the music industry at this point. I may never buy music from Def Jam again. Really, Universal, signing this young man and promoting him to his current level is shameful, and an insult to the true artists who deserve attention. I love all types of music, from the trashy and catchy tunes of Jesse Mccartney to the soulful renderings of Cat Power to the vintage sounds of original recordings of the Mamas and the Papas. I have no business condemning those who love popular pop, for I am one of that crowd, but this...this is out of control.

1. Being able to repeat between one and three words in time to a beat is not representative of talent. And I quote, "Like baby baby ohh/like baby baby no/like baby baby ohh." Truly a poetic set. At least Britney Spear's songwriters attempt to tell some sort of story, albeit one about her clubbing. Are we really that afraid to say something, anything, that our songs must sound like THIS?

2. He sounds so young. Like, very, very young. 12 year old boy's choir young. In reality, he is actually only 16 years old, yet his lyrics are hyper sexualized. At 16, his demographic of middle class American teens are still trying to fit in while standing in, trying to figure out who they are while still being very sheltered. It's completely inappropriate for him to talk about dating and sex in the way that he does, and to do it with artists such as Ludacris (he wrote the charming and poetically titled "Move Bitch") and Usher (Love in the Club. Need I say more?) We want our next generation to be leaders, to save us from the mess we are in, and yet we let the music industry guide their minds with a 16 year old who talks about girls, his world.

3. His grammar sucks. U Smile? How many sales would you lose by saying "You Smile"?

4. He represents a culture of obsession, a dangerous trend of corporations exploiting us when we are both our most dramatic and our most vulnerable-the teenage years. Now, more than ever, we live in a culture of free information and readily available instant communication. As young women and men tweet and facebook constantly about this one artist, I wonder how much of their other socialization is going out the window. How many real connections do we forsake, because we spend so much time cyber-communicating on social media? I wonder if there will be a statistic, in 100 years or so, of how much time in our lives is given to the computer and to the media, just like we have a statistic now for how much time is given to sleeping in our lives? Though this is a larger discussion to examine, Mr. Bieber is an indicator of this.

5. This young man is Canadian. No wonder our economy sucks, the Canadians keep taking our money. On that note, stop buying Olympic memorabilia. The warm feelings have faded. Okay, this point was a joke...but had to be included.

6. His lyrics are disgustingly sexist. "I'll be your only guy/You'll be my number one girl". Oh, so I can only have you as my guy, but you can have a lot of girls? This is supposed to be romantic because I'm your highest priority? This is furthering girls' tendencies to have low expectations, and boys' expectations to expect the world and a half from girls. To lower girls' self esteem like this...it's just wrong.

7. "If you listen to the crap we all listened to, it's a surprise we didn't end up as whores." Ok so...let's stop now?

I get it. I get that people listen to anything with a beat, and catchiness is not a bad thing. I just would hope that sometimes, we would allow ourselves to stop and think about the words that we allow to enter our precious minds.

BUcket List

Boston.

The city of my dreams. My home, and no home for me at all. My city in the clouds, I suppose you could say.

This city, this school, this life that I have...it could be gone for me by September. The hard fact is, I don't know where I will be. While I know that I am at peace with whatever happens, writing this as a reality and not as a hypothetical causes me indescribable pain. I have worked so hard for the life I have here, and leaving it all for something I don't know and for a whole new life to build...it scares me more than I can convey with words swiftly typed.

In all of this, I know that the one thing that would destroy me more than change is a pile of regrets. If I have to leave, I will not leave with things left undone, with a partial experience left to dangle like cut rope. I will live my life beyond the good or acceptable; I will live my life to the 98%. Though we can't guarantee perfection, I must get everything I want from my life now, or risk piecing apart my soul with my departure.

So, here it is. A written record of everything I must do here, be it in the next 2.5 months or in the next 2 years. I put this public and concrete to keep myself true.

Deep breath, dive in, nothing to regret.

1. Dance. Whenever I feel like it, wherever I feel like it. On the street or in the elevator.

2. Voice my opinion. Coffee and Conversation? When asked in the WRC? In class? Don't hold back. Be kind, but be totally honest.

3. Let my energy flow. Don't EVER temper my enthusiasm for the smallest conversation. I laugh all the time and I get excited over nothing, and nothing should stop that.

4. Tell him. Ya know, him. The many "hims" that I have never told. Tell the one from freshman year that I am more than just flattered when he flirts with me. Tell the hotshot him that no matter what has made him the way he is, he can't make me feel bad. Tell the class mate that I miss him and his shoulder, and that he has to remember who's important. Tell the new one that even though he was upset before, we should still get coffee.

Tell them all.

5. Fight for what I REALLY think. If someone is sexist, call them out. If you think that something is stupid or hurtful, say something.

6. Push forward the kindness. There is no point in hurting someone else, even unintentionally. Words are weapons, and it is worth the work to keep a reminder to be kind, sweet, or whatever it is that translates well, always.

7. Embrace my own lack of mystery. I'm always so disgruntled that I'm not cooler, better at "with holding the love", or less available. But really, that's just who I am-uncool, spazzy, hyper at times. I'm together in a general sense, but day to day, I ooze enthusiasm. And, so what? I love people. I have gone through so much, and the fact that I can live every day just excited to be on the planet is pretty remarkable. So, my job: embrace that.

8. Push my ambition. I want so much out of life, yet I often have some sort of introversion that keeps me from chasing what I want. That's stupid and I know it. I have to go after my life, not hope that it finds me.

9. Calm down on the sarcasm. It can easily become scathing, and that's not who I am.

10. Meet people. Yes, I know, one of my strange quirks is that I don't like meeting new people. Which is, in fact, ridiculous. If there was ever a time when it was not hard and most beneficial to meet people, college would be that time. So, even if it feels futile, introduce yourself. You never know what can happen. It's always good to "know a guy".

11. Work hard. Work harder. Study in the way that works. Self handicapping is just a way to stand in the path of your own goals. I have goals. Quite a few, and when I pick which one I want, I will have success only with hard work.

12. And speaking of goals...though it's hard, figure them out now. Really. Change is stimulation, and though trying to choose your life all at once seems a bit tremendous, you can do it. It's really the only time to do it, when the decision making piece of your brain is saying GO.

13. Learn to trust people. I have the confidence and the personality, all you need is the wall to break down just a bit. I'm unattainable for all the wrong reasons.

14. Organized, professional, on top of things. All these things make me feel awesome. I let them slip, though. Don't. Be the CEO of your own life? That's a phrase, right? Well literally...manage. I need to manage myself. Or watch the chaos unfold.

15. Butterflies. Try to remember what it feels like to have butterflies in your stomach. Get them back? I'm not sure how much I can control that but...it's nice to feel, is't.

16. This blog. Writing. Let's return.

20

20.

Two. Zero.

I've lived 2 decades on this Earth without great consequence. I can't say that I've really changed anyone, that I know of, though I haven't stayed exactly the same either. At all, really. I've gone through the paces more than I've had happiness, and rutinization has become routine at times in my life. With only those 2 decades of life and experience under my belt, I have felt more and seen more than some people will see in their long lifespans. Even then, I often am stricken with how little I know of the world, how naive I have managed to stay. It's a rarity, that naivete, and a quality I actually like in myself. I feel like a unicorn. Not really, but you get the point. I'm unusual. "Genuinely quirky", as one friend says, awkward, a ball of energy, enthused about life. That's me. At the ripe old age of 20 years old, I am strongly these qualities more than I have ever been.

I've been called old a lot in the past 24 hours. 20...it's a birthday I have dreaded for years. It's not that I actually think I am elderly in any way, though a potent combination of exhaustion and hard work makes me feel quite aged sometimes. It's more the symbolism of adulthood that really affects me, the idea that true maturity has to set in and responsibility is my number one priority. I'm mature, I'm good at being on top of things and being productive, but... I'm scared, really. I'm scared of growing up. Though reality and the pains that life often brings are no strangers to me, it's hard to imagine that I must soon face that pain head on, that I must live with it, unable to escape under the umbrella of the teenage years or hope for the future. My future is now, really. My life is being determined...I use passive voice for a reason. I feel like I am in too much, too complete, control, but have no control. What a disgusting contradiction, and I can barely attempt to explain it. All I can really explain is that...I don't know what my future holds, but for whatever reason, this feels like the biggest turning point in terms of age, like the beginning of the rest. This new decade is a reminder that change is the state which I live in, not something to fear, and that waiting for my big bursting out moment to stumble upon me...it's just a fantasy.

I can't live in fantasy. My life is there for the taking, with all the hard work I will need to do. So, for some, 20 means the "in between birthday". For others, it means getting older and having to be the adult they never wanted to be. For others still, it means that the party rolls on, and 20 is just a stepping stone to fabulosity. For me, it is all of those things, but not one sums it all up. This birthday means the end of my being able to say that I am lost, that I have time. It means that now. Now. Is the time to take control and determine my life to be as I wish. Take control over what I can control.

Yeah, I wish it were that easy. But ease...that's never gonna be my style.