25.11.12
5.10.12
There are still so many things I want to do.
SO many.
I thought, at least at the start of this whole Georgetown thing, I had it figured out - what I really wanted in life.
But that was in light of, y'know, a hugely tumultuous time in my personal life and all I really wanted or needed was to go home.
And that's still true.
In a few months, this whole DC thing - which, shit, has been wonderful y'know. It's been so hard, so hard in so many ways. I've shed far too many tears over this entire ordeal, it's been so difficult for me - moving away, losing (and coming close to losing) a number of extremely important people in my life, feeling helpless and lost, so far so far away and having to deal with that. Watching the remnants of my England life and my Brunei life tossed up like salad leaves into the air while I scramble around down below looking for plates, plates, where are the plates but I'm tripping up over forks, spoons, knives that my new Washington life keeps throwing at me underfoot.
But at the same time it's been beautiful.
After picking myself up and brushing myself off, I'd walk out of the door into a wonderful city.
DC isn't NYC (NYC is a whooole 'nother rant, my love. Words cannot describe the love I have for that place.) but it's great in it's own way.
It may be stiff, structured and not nearly as vibrant as its more cosmopolitan sisters.
But people walk around here with a purpose.
I read an article about why DC was a great city and I can't agree more.
Everyone you meet here is here for a reason. And no, I'm not talking about domestic politics - I know nutsquash about American politics.
People who want to make a difference - in law, in the environment, in championing the rights of migrant children. Whatever it is.
People come in from all corners of the country to intern here, meet Important People here, make a difference here.
And the diversity in that is amazing. It's pretty inspirational, in the one sense. And kinda intimidating because compared to a lot of people (who pretend to know what they're doing, at least) I'm just going around with my eyes closed, bouncing off the walls.
And DC might seem really organized and sterile at first glance, but there's so much life bubbling underneath all the grey.
You just need to know where to look. There are little gems all around the city, streets that are known to have more character than others.
And even where the streets are a little too neat - that's the beauty of this place.
It isn't like the other cities, this is its character.
And I've learnt so much from being at my university. My professors have been incredible, they're all so smart they've had so much experience - real-life experience -they're google-worthy. But on top of all of that, they all genuinely care and want to help you out, teach you things, talk to you. They want to know what you plan on doing in the future - they value your opinions, they know that you want to be a part of this big (although likely idealistic) grand, supreme plan to Change Shit, and they know this, they've been there and they're ready to help out.
My overall experience here has been Insane. I mean there's no other way to describe it... It's definitely taken a toll on my sanity; it's been so good yet so difficult. It's pulled my emotions one way and then the other. I mean if anything in my life could be described as a true test of strength... Bam, hands down. The past year (End of 2011 to end of 2012) has been it.
And y'know, I do look forward to going home. Well... I did.
I still do, I still need to go home and there are so many reasons why I want to (and need to) be home now.
But being home for good will only make the things that have Changed resonate so much more loudly.
I won't be able to run away from the fact that...
Well, I've changed.
Things have changed.
People, places and realities that I left behind almost five years ago
Are either gone
Or are different now.
I'll walk through those glass doors at the airport coming home to something very different from what I left behind.
Coming home intermittently over the years obviously offered me glimpses into these shifts;
it's not like I didn't or don't know.
I've seen bits of it. Little bits change, sometimes major bits change.
But I've taken it all in, one small teaspoon at a time, like a necessarily bitter medicine.
Coming home for good is different, though.
I'll only have one address, one phone number.
One life.
No more running away to my other lives; they won't be there anymore.
The leaves will finally fall in a big messy pile onto a chipped, white plate which I will take through those doors, and home, with me.
And then there's no running.
SO many.
I thought, at least at the start of this whole Georgetown thing, I had it figured out - what I really wanted in life.
But that was in light of, y'know, a hugely tumultuous time in my personal life and all I really wanted or needed was to go home.
And that's still true.
In a few months, this whole DC thing - which, shit, has been wonderful y'know. It's been so hard, so hard in so many ways. I've shed far too many tears over this entire ordeal, it's been so difficult for me - moving away, losing (and coming close to losing) a number of extremely important people in my life, feeling helpless and lost, so far so far away and having to deal with that. Watching the remnants of my England life and my Brunei life tossed up like salad leaves into the air while I scramble around down below looking for plates, plates, where are the plates but I'm tripping up over forks, spoons, knives that my new Washington life keeps throwing at me underfoot.
But at the same time it's been beautiful.
After picking myself up and brushing myself off, I'd walk out of the door into a wonderful city.
DC isn't NYC (NYC is a whooole 'nother rant, my love. Words cannot describe the love I have for that place.) but it's great in it's own way.
It may be stiff, structured and not nearly as vibrant as its more cosmopolitan sisters.
But people walk around here with a purpose.
I read an article about why DC was a great city and I can't agree more.
Everyone you meet here is here for a reason. And no, I'm not talking about domestic politics - I know nutsquash about American politics.
People who want to make a difference - in law, in the environment, in championing the rights of migrant children. Whatever it is.
People come in from all corners of the country to intern here, meet Important People here, make a difference here.
And the diversity in that is amazing. It's pretty inspirational, in the one sense. And kinda intimidating because compared to a lot of people (who pretend to know what they're doing, at least) I'm just going around with my eyes closed, bouncing off the walls.
And DC might seem really organized and sterile at first glance, but there's so much life bubbling underneath all the grey.
You just need to know where to look. There are little gems all around the city, streets that are known to have more character than others.
And even where the streets are a little too neat - that's the beauty of this place.
It isn't like the other cities, this is its character.
And I've learnt so much from being at my university. My professors have been incredible, they're all so smart they've had so much experience - real-life experience -they're google-worthy. But on top of all of that, they all genuinely care and want to help you out, teach you things, talk to you. They want to know what you plan on doing in the future - they value your opinions, they know that you want to be a part of this big (although likely idealistic) grand, supreme plan to Change Shit, and they know this, they've been there and they're ready to help out.
My overall experience here has been Insane. I mean there's no other way to describe it... It's definitely taken a toll on my sanity; it's been so good yet so difficult. It's pulled my emotions one way and then the other. I mean if anything in my life could be described as a true test of strength... Bam, hands down. The past year (End of 2011 to end of 2012) has been it.
And y'know, I do look forward to going home. Well... I did.
I still do, I still need to go home and there are so many reasons why I want to (and need to) be home now.
But being home for good will only make the things that have Changed resonate so much more loudly.
I won't be able to run away from the fact that...
Well, I've changed.
Things have changed.
People, places and realities that I left behind almost five years ago
Are either gone
Or are different now.
I'll walk through those glass doors at the airport coming home to something very different from what I left behind.
Coming home intermittently over the years obviously offered me glimpses into these shifts;
it's not like I didn't or don't know.
I've seen bits of it. Little bits change, sometimes major bits change.
But I've taken it all in, one small teaspoon at a time, like a necessarily bitter medicine.
Coming home for good is different, though.
I'll only have one address, one phone number.
One life.
No more running away to my other lives; they won't be there anymore.
The leaves will finally fall in a big messy pile onto a chipped, white plate which I will take through those doors, and home, with me.
And then there's no running.
1.10.12
Things that make me Not Happy.
1. Raisins in bread/pudding/scones.
2. Black pens.
3. Uncooked tomatoes.
4. Being Not Happy.
5. Dust.
2. Black pens.
3. Uncooked tomatoes.
4. Being Not Happy.
5. Dust.
6.8.12
I've no internet at home because the power supply to the router is messed up. Ridiculously frustrating, my phone credit is fast depleting and 3G is absolute rubbish.
Typing this from a little corner of the workweek gloom; still cannot quite wrap my head around the fact that I'll have to permanently submit myself to this monotony in less than six months - after spending the most part of the last five years avoiding it. It's not that bad though. I am looking forward to being home for good. Mostly, anyway.
"So, what next?"
Good question.
Typing this from a little corner of the workweek gloom; still cannot quite wrap my head around the fact that I'll have to permanently submit myself to this monotony in less than six months - after spending the most part of the last five years avoiding it. It's not that bad though. I am looking forward to being home for good. Mostly, anyway.
"So, what next?"
Good question.
9.7.12
by Mila Jaroniec
I think about this sometimes: about how messed up we all really are on the inside. How we put on this “day face” and try to just live life and be okay, but underneath all that we have all these layers of neuroses and disappointments and unresolved issues that stay dormant until they’re triggered. Not overtly, most of the time — we wouldn’t be able to function if it were overt all the time — but under. Underneath us, inside of us. Things that happened to us that changed us. Heartbreak and trauma woven into the texture of our skins.
I think about this sometimes when I’m talking to someone, especially someone I know. It’s always more pronounced when it’s someone you know: you’re looking at them and they’re looking at you and you’re discussing something stupid like where to get dinner and all of a sudden it’s a surprise punch in the stomach, simultaneously seeing the person right in front of you and everything they’ve been through smudged around them like a sort of aura. You look at this person who was once on the verge of suicide, or overcame a serious illness, or had a dad who drank or no family at all, and they’re right there, talking, standing. They’re fine. They’re there. And you get this sudden impulse to weep or just touch them actually to make sure they’re real and wish you could borrow their strength for a moment because your own bones are crumbling.
It’s crazy to think about sometimes how all of us, even the most put together of us, are comprised of layers upon layers of experiences that once broke us, cracked our shells; about how we’re constantly mending ourselves, gluing ourselves together so we can remain in one piece and keep going forward for some reason. Underneath the outer layer we’re these coarse tangles of fears and mental blocks and sense memories and the older we get the more they just build and build. Sometimes we want nothing more than to be able to “let go” and leave the past in the past where it belongs, but these things imprint, in a way. They brand us. We can’t get rid of them and we wouldn’t be ourselves without them.
I think about this sometimes: about how messed up we all really are on the inside. How we put on this “day face” and try to just live life and be okay, but underneath all that we have all these layers of neuroses and disappointments and unresolved issues that stay dormant until they’re triggered. Not overtly, most of the time — we wouldn’t be able to function if it were overt all the time — but under. Underneath us, inside of us. Things that happened to us that changed us. Heartbreak and trauma woven into the texture of our skins.
I think about this sometimes when I’m talking to someone, especially someone I know. It’s always more pronounced when it’s someone you know: you’re looking at them and they’re looking at you and you’re discussing something stupid like where to get dinner and all of a sudden it’s a surprise punch in the stomach, simultaneously seeing the person right in front of you and everything they’ve been through smudged around them like a sort of aura. You look at this person who was once on the verge of suicide, or overcame a serious illness, or had a dad who drank or no family at all, and they’re right there, talking, standing. They’re fine. They’re there. And you get this sudden impulse to weep or just touch them actually to make sure they’re real and wish you could borrow their strength for a moment because your own bones are crumbling.
It’s crazy to think about sometimes how all of us, even the most put together of us, are comprised of layers upon layers of experiences that once broke us, cracked our shells; about how we’re constantly mending ourselves, gluing ourselves together so we can remain in one piece and keep going forward for some reason. Underneath the outer layer we’re these coarse tangles of fears and mental blocks and sense memories and the older we get the more they just build and build. Sometimes we want nothing more than to be able to “let go” and leave the past in the past where it belongs, but these things imprint, in a way. They brand us. We can’t get rid of them and we wouldn’t be ourselves without them.
8.7.12
28.6.12
31.5.12
Been home for two weeks and my annual bedroom upheaval is coming along nicely.
Bedroom, toilet and wardrobe are mostly done. Have tossed out a fairly satisfying amount of stuff.
Am moving onto the study now and seeing as how it's become a storeroom over the past two years, most of my work will be in here.
I am going to declutter (and have been decluttering) like I've never done before.
One of the hardest habits I've ever had to kick is this nostalgia-driven compulsion to hoard and keep everything - from receipts to bits of toys to random t-shirts that i'll never use again. I've always had this horrible tendency to prescribe notions of sentimentality to stupid trinkets and worthless junk. But fuck that now, y'know.
I guess I'm tired of accumulating bits of my old lives - little tokens from old versions of myself that I, previously, never wanted to lose grasp of.
I can't do that anymore.
For one, I seem to be getting older a lot faster and twenty-two years worth of junk is starting to take up a lot of space.
And for another - what's the point, really?
Why remind oneself of what the rest of the world forgot a long time ago.
Bedroom, toilet and wardrobe are mostly done. Have tossed out a fairly satisfying amount of stuff.
Am moving onto the study now and seeing as how it's become a storeroom over the past two years, most of my work will be in here.
I am going to declutter (and have been decluttering) like I've never done before.
One of the hardest habits I've ever had to kick is this nostalgia-driven compulsion to hoard and keep everything - from receipts to bits of toys to random t-shirts that i'll never use again. I've always had this horrible tendency to prescribe notions of sentimentality to stupid trinkets and worthless junk. But fuck that now, y'know.
I guess I'm tired of accumulating bits of my old lives - little tokens from old versions of myself that I, previously, never wanted to lose grasp of.
I can't do that anymore.
For one, I seem to be getting older a lot faster and twenty-two years worth of junk is starting to take up a lot of space.
And for another - what's the point, really?
Why remind oneself of what the rest of the world forgot a long time ago.
27.5.12
There are a few rules which I stick very strongly by.
1. No one touches my food before I do. I am perfectly happy with sharing and you can help yourself to as much of my food as you wish (within reasonable bounds obviously)... As long as I take the first bite. All of my closest friends know this (and it's become a bit of an affectionate joke) but no one - NO ONE - touches my food before I do.
2. Knock before entering. This is a basic practice of etiquette and it bugs the FLIPPING HELL out of me every time someone enters without knocking. You knock and then you enter. You don't need to wait for me to tell you to come in - if the door is unlocked go ahead and turn the doorknob. Obviously if you hear me scream you shouldn't proceed with entering. But always. Knock. Before. Entering. It is one of the most elementary rules of politeness.
3. Say please. I'm not insanely picky about this: If you say "Do you mind handing me that?" or "May I have this" that's fine, I think probably because the "mind" and "may" provide sufficient politness. But don't go "Can I have that?" or "Get me a drink". You say please or I'm not moving. Same rule applies to thank you.
1. No one touches my food before I do. I am perfectly happy with sharing and you can help yourself to as much of my food as you wish (within reasonable bounds obviously)... As long as I take the first bite. All of my closest friends know this (and it's become a bit of an affectionate joke) but no one - NO ONE - touches my food before I do.
2. Knock before entering. This is a basic practice of etiquette and it bugs the FLIPPING HELL out of me every time someone enters without knocking. You knock and then you enter. You don't need to wait for me to tell you to come in - if the door is unlocked go ahead and turn the doorknob. Obviously if you hear me scream you shouldn't proceed with entering. But always. Knock. Before. Entering. It is one of the most elementary rules of politeness.
3. Say please. I'm not insanely picky about this: If you say "Do you mind handing me that?" or "May I have this" that's fine, I think probably because the "mind" and "may" provide sufficient politness. But don't go "Can I have that?" or "Get me a drink". You say please or I'm not moving. Same rule applies to thank you.
16.4.12
1. Yes I did disable my facebook and I'm kinda surprised by the number of people who've asked about it haha. No this isn't some hipster too-good-for-facebook protest; I have personal reasons for it. I have wanted to reactivate because it's a bit tough to contact a couple of people when I need to.. But I have quite surprisingly not missed it very much. The one thing I do miss is being able to keep up with the shared information; I read a lot of articles that circulate on facebook and a couple of people share a lot of things I tend to be interested in. I mean once I sift through all the annoying people, y'know.
2. My new blog has been up for about a week now; I'll give it a couple of extra posts and then link it up. But I have alluded to where it is somewhere else in case you're stalkerish enough to cari haha. But I'll keep this blog around for my more emo shit. Have promised myself that the new blog will have none of that rubbish
2. My new blog has been up for about a week now; I'll give it a couple of extra posts and then link it up. But I have alluded to where it is somewhere else in case you're stalkerish enough to cari haha. But I'll keep this blog around for my more emo shit. Have promised myself that the new blog will have none of that rubbish
8.4.12
Hi.
I THINK I will start blogging again. Not here, cos it's kinda turned really depressing in here.
I'm gonna start a new blog, as a form of therapy.
I'll make it a point to make it a happy blog - I'll post about DC maybe, maybe upload some pictures of certain places, places i've visited, maybe stuff from home, this and that. It'll be really easy, lightweight stuff - not much about my personal life or personal self: More about the things I see and the stuff around me.
I'm just going to be very straight to the point when I say this.
My personal life has been quite a wreck recently (or not even so recently), a lot has gone on and the last six months worth of posts on this blog has probably demonstrated that fact enough.
That's all I'm going to say - I've never been one to air my life out like laundry, and I'm not going to start now. Whatever moody gloomy posts you see below is/was bubble release.
If/when/if/when/if/when I do start my new blog, I'll post a link up here in case any residual audience (although I highly doubt anyone really reads this anymore haha) might want to check it out.
I THINK I will start blogging again. Not here, cos it's kinda turned really depressing in here.
I'm gonna start a new blog, as a form of therapy.
I'll make it a point to make it a happy blog - I'll post about DC maybe, maybe upload some pictures of certain places, places i've visited, maybe stuff from home, this and that. It'll be really easy, lightweight stuff - not much about my personal life or personal self: More about the things I see and the stuff around me.
I'm just going to be very straight to the point when I say this.
My personal life has been quite a wreck recently (or not even so recently), a lot has gone on and the last six months worth of posts on this blog has probably demonstrated that fact enough.
That's all I'm going to say - I've never been one to air my life out like laundry, and I'm not going to start now. Whatever moody gloomy posts you see below is/was bubble release.
If/when/if/when/if/when I do start my new blog, I'll post a link up here in case any residual audience (although I highly doubt anyone really reads this anymore haha) might want to check it out.
5.4.12
Today I'm going to finish one memo.
And then tomorrow I will finish another memo.
And my work for that class (Lotrionte's) will be over. One class down by tomorrow night, three left.
I will start on my final for Kupchan's class over the weekend and have a good idea of what it'll look like by the end of the week. And once that's started I'll be on my way to finishing that class too.
The other two - I will start reading in order to prep for those classes' take home finals on Tuesday.
EDIT: I WILL FINISH THIS TODAY
I need to focus. And get this bloody memo done. Today.
And then tomorrow I will finish another memo.
And my work for that class (Lotrionte's) will be over. One class down by tomorrow night, three left.
I will start on my final for Kupchan's class over the weekend and have a good idea of what it'll look like by the end of the week. And once that's started I'll be on my way to finishing that class too.
The other two - I will start reading in order to prep for those classes' take home finals on Tuesday.
EDIT: I WILL FINISH THIS TODAY
I need to focus. And get this bloody memo done. Today.
31.3.12
This is going to be my most productive weekend in a long time. Yesterday was great: I cleaned my room completely: I made my bed, tidied up everything, wiped all the surfaces, got rid of the pile of clothes on my armchair, vacuumed, threw out trash. I did a stack of handwashing which I neatly hung up to dry last night, I organised my backlogged pile of notes/paper/general work material and washed all my dishes. Yesterday I also gave the kitchen counters a good scrubbing and reorganised my pantry. I did groceries on Thursday and have been eating copious amounts of fruit and vegetable
A digression is required here. I've been laying off meat for a while, my stomach just really isn't in the mood for it and I find I crave vegetables and fish - I think even my digestive system is yearning for a detox. I bought more fruit that I ever had and I snacked on apples and oranges (and cookies and chocolate).
Yesterday I also started on one of me memos and I plan to finish it by the end of today and, hopefully if possible, start thinking about Memo #2.
I spent what I had left of this morning (woke up late) vacuuming my room again (I intend to do it again tonight - I have a vacuum problem that's haunted me since my Warwick days) and I took out the huge pile of trash in the kitchen (It's mostly my roommates and not mine which is why I generally refuse to haul it out, but since she had comp exams today I thought I'd be nice -- plus it was bugging me like crazy, I left a not-too-subtle air freshener hint on the counter but that didn't quite work so I did it anyway. And then I vacuumed the floor (stupid apartment has carpetted kitchen what the flying fuck is that about, how stupid) and vacuumed the hallway.
My room is still spic and span, I intend to - by the end of today - well by dinnertime cos I have stuff to do after that:
1. finish this memo
2. clean the bathroom
3. fold up the laundry that's almost dry from last night
4. get a topic for memo #2.
By the end of this week I intend to have a completely clean flat (well my room and the communal areas - same can't be said for my roommates bedroom but ok she has a thesis to worry about so i don't blame her) and two memos finished. At the very least.
I need this overhaul.
A digression is required here. I've been laying off meat for a while, my stomach just really isn't in the mood for it and I find I crave vegetables and fish - I think even my digestive system is yearning for a detox. I bought more fruit that I ever had and I snacked on apples and oranges (and cookies and chocolate).
Yesterday I also started on one of me memos and I plan to finish it by the end of today and, hopefully if possible, start thinking about Memo #2.
I spent what I had left of this morning (woke up late) vacuuming my room again (I intend to do it again tonight - I have a vacuum problem that's haunted me since my Warwick days) and I took out the huge pile of trash in the kitchen (It's mostly my roommates and not mine which is why I generally refuse to haul it out, but since she had comp exams today I thought I'd be nice -- plus it was bugging me like crazy, I left a not-too-subtle air freshener hint on the counter but that didn't quite work so I did it anyway. And then I vacuumed the floor (stupid apartment has carpetted kitchen what the flying fuck is that about, how stupid) and vacuumed the hallway.
My room is still spic and span, I intend to - by the end of today - well by dinnertime cos I have stuff to do after that:
1. finish this memo
2. clean the bathroom
3. fold up the laundry that's almost dry from last night
4. get a topic for memo #2.
By the end of this week I intend to have a completely clean flat (well my room and the communal areas - same can't be said for my roommates bedroom but ok she has a thesis to worry about so i don't blame her) and two memos finished. At the very least.
I need this overhaul.
15.2.12
Just made a massive meat pie that's bubbling in the oven right now.
It's an ad hoc shepherd's pie except I didn't have any worcestershire sauce.
I really like it when my housemate isn't around - the quiet of the flat is really nice and I've steadily become more and more anti-social that I really don't think it'd be all that bad living alone.
The pie is huge.
I didn't/don't have a casserole dish so I went out and bought the disposable foil sort.
The potato layer hits the top of the rim.
I'm quite excited.
I think this pie could feed 4 people quite comfortably.
But it's mine, all mine.
It's an ad hoc shepherd's pie except I didn't have any worcestershire sauce.
I really like it when my housemate isn't around - the quiet of the flat is really nice and I've steadily become more and more anti-social that I really don't think it'd be all that bad living alone.
The pie is huge.
I didn't/don't have a casserole dish so I went out and bought the disposable foil sort.
The potato layer hits the top of the rim.
I'm quite excited.
I think this pie could feed 4 people quite comfortably.
But it's mine, all mine.
30.1.12
It's past midnight and past my bedtime but I thought I'd take a couple of minutes to write something here.
I don't know where to start - I never really do - but let me just jump right in. Things have happened and continue to keep happening: bad things, not so bad things, strange things, sobering things, different things. Things.
Things that I won't tell you, things that are best kept quiet, things only uttered over lukewarm paper cups of milky coffee on late nights, empty streets and cold winds.
The nature of such things aren't entirely relevant to whatever I might want to say right now anyway.
I think I finally know what I want to do with my life.
Sorry to get all emo-shemo and existentialist but isn't that what we're all doing anyway.
We all pretend to know what we're doing, we all pretend to be so secure in our present condition, we scoff and rattle off page after page of prospective future plans and careers, checking boxes down the proverbial bucket lists.
We enjoy seeking false comfort in the pretense that everything that happens to us was either planned or was in some way a small (yet critical) part of the grand scheme of your Life Plan.
But we're all just fumbling around in the dark,
bouncing off the walls as we go.
We don't know what we're doing.
We don't know why we put ourselves through decades of schooling, we don't know why we move away and then move back. We don't know what kind of job we want, whether we want a job or not.
We don't know whether or not we want to get married; if we do, we don't know when we want that day to come.
We don't know if we're career-driven or family-driven, we're all probably a bit of both but how many parts career to family or vice versa? We don't know.
We pretend we do.
She wants a Masters or a PhD, she says. Work experience for a couple of years and then she might consider law school as a career change, she says.
Married by 28, three kids and a pretty little townhouse upstate.
He plans to start up his own business by 25. Tending to his investments while he learns a new language. Perhaps relocate to China or Brazil; family can wait.
We rehearse these stories often; practising our lines whenever a family member or prospective employer starts up a conversation and asks.
But we really don't know.
None of us do.
And yet, strangely enough, thousands of miles away - I am very literally almost the furthest possible I can get from home; 12 hours behind, on the very other side of the Earth - it's here, in this strange city, the capital of the Western world, that I think...
I'm finally beginning to separate the threads of things I should want and the things I really do want,
and I think I'm finally beginning to untangle what I really want to do and see myself doing after I finish school.
A little over 20 years of people asking me what I want to be when I grow up
Lying through my teeth all over my personal statements and statements of purpose and interviews and networking conversations - pretending, consistently pretending (very convincingly though, might I add) that I know exactly where my interests and ambitions lie.
Hell, I don't even know how I got here.
I can't remember why I picked what I picked to do at University.
I sort of just fell into it; it seemed like the least worst option at the time, perhaps.
I'm pretty sure I could've just as easily fallen into something like medicine or law or marketing.
But instead, I'm here.
Swimming about in this accidental pool trying to find my way around.
Though - going back to my initial point - I think slowly I'm figuring it out.
I think I can finally start coming up with a real answer.
I don't know where to start - I never really do - but let me just jump right in. Things have happened and continue to keep happening: bad things, not so bad things, strange things, sobering things, different things. Things.
Things that I won't tell you, things that are best kept quiet, things only uttered over lukewarm paper cups of milky coffee on late nights, empty streets and cold winds.
The nature of such things aren't entirely relevant to whatever I might want to say right now anyway.
I think I finally know what I want to do with my life.
Sorry to get all emo-shemo and existentialist but isn't that what we're all doing anyway.
We all pretend to know what we're doing, we all pretend to be so secure in our present condition, we scoff and rattle off page after page of prospective future plans and careers, checking boxes down the proverbial bucket lists.
We enjoy seeking false comfort in the pretense that everything that happens to us was either planned or was in some way a small (yet critical) part of the grand scheme of your Life Plan.
But we're all just fumbling around in the dark,
bouncing off the walls as we go.
We don't know what we're doing.
We don't know why we put ourselves through decades of schooling, we don't know why we move away and then move back. We don't know what kind of job we want, whether we want a job or not.
We don't know whether or not we want to get married; if we do, we don't know when we want that day to come.
We don't know if we're career-driven or family-driven, we're all probably a bit of both but how many parts career to family or vice versa? We don't know.
We pretend we do.
She wants a Masters or a PhD, she says. Work experience for a couple of years and then she might consider law school as a career change, she says.
Married by 28, three kids and a pretty little townhouse upstate.
He plans to start up his own business by 25. Tending to his investments while he learns a new language. Perhaps relocate to China or Brazil; family can wait.
We rehearse these stories often; practising our lines whenever a family member or prospective employer starts up a conversation and asks.
But we really don't know.
None of us do.
And yet, strangely enough, thousands of miles away - I am very literally almost the furthest possible I can get from home; 12 hours behind, on the very other side of the Earth - it's here, in this strange city, the capital of the Western world, that I think...
I'm finally beginning to separate the threads of things I should want and the things I really do want,
and I think I'm finally beginning to untangle what I really want to do and see myself doing after I finish school.
A little over 20 years of people asking me what I want to be when I grow up
Lying through my teeth all over my personal statements and statements of purpose and interviews and networking conversations - pretending, consistently pretending (very convincingly though, might I add) that I know exactly where my interests and ambitions lie.
Hell, I don't even know how I got here.
I can't remember why I picked what I picked to do at University.
I sort of just fell into it; it seemed like the least worst option at the time, perhaps.
I'm pretty sure I could've just as easily fallen into something like medicine or law or marketing.
But instead, I'm here.
Swimming about in this accidental pool trying to find my way around.
Though - going back to my initial point - I think slowly I'm figuring it out.
I think I can finally start coming up with a real answer.
15.1.12
So perhaps I will begin updating again. Don't take my word for it, chances are I'll abandon this right after I publish this post haha.
I'm cold, I'm still kinda jetlagged and my appetite has increased 300% since I arrived. I'm constantly hungry, I haven't gone out to get groceries yet - thank goodness I still had some chicken in my freezer - and I've only just finished cleaning my room and unpacking.
I don't hate DC.
I don't.
I think DC is a great place, the university is great, my professors are great, it's all just... Great.
But it's not DC, it's me.
In a nutshell, I think I'm just tired of school and kindasortajustwanna go home.
I think doing my Masters straight after graduating was a bit of a catch 22, really. Leaving immediately didn't give me a chance to miss school, so all my leftover tiredness from final year just carried itself over in my personal ledger of motivation. It was more than a little stressful to move all my crap from the UK to Brunei, only for me to leave again before all my stuff even arrived. Everything happened way too fast and I stepped off the convocation dais straight into my next classroom.
But had I not left immediately, I might not have been able to defer entry so I wouldn't have been able to come to Georgetown. If I'd found a job, there was the possibility of me being tied down so I wouldn't get approval to leave the following year.
So I kinda had to go, even if I didn't really want to anymore.
And it's not DC, don't get me wrong.
I'm just not in a great state of mind anymore, having to reset my life when all the people I love and care for (with the exception of one or two) are either across the Atlantic in the UK or, literally, halfway across on the other side of the globe in Brunei.
It's tough, I'm jaded - I've been embroiled in the entire education system for almost twenty consecutive years now. The only break I'd ever had was the 9 months after my A'levels, which is probably why I left home more excited than anything and didn't suffer from any serious bouts of homesickness even if it was the first time I'd ever properly moved away from home.
I'm a big girl, I know. I can carry myself on my own. I'm old enough, mature enough and independent enough to live in this land so far, far away. I can take it. I'm made of pretty sturdy stuff.
But y'know, at the end of the day I truly am tired of doing what I should do. And I really do look forward to the day I do what I want to do.
I did want this. But it was really just a symptom of my over-ambitious self making lists and ticking boxes and drafting out my future resume.
This experience has and will continue to be good to me, I'm sure.
But I'm far less ambitious, and I'm just going through the motions and letting things fall into my lap as I go along. I'm not really seeking out co-curricular activities, I haven't networked at all, I can't be bothered to suck up to my professors outside of class, I don't really care about interning.
I was talking to one of my bestfriends, who is here too - thank goodness.
Well if anyone reading knows me at all, you probably know who I'm talking about. But mana tau she wouldn't want her name here or something haha.
But we were talking about how we should really do something, intern - make use of our time! This was at the very beginning. We were both really ambitious and determined to do supercalifragamazing things. And we really wanted to "do something with our lives".
It didn't take long for us to realise that.. Hang on, we already are.
Which is true.
I'm doing my Masters here. I'm already doing something with my life.
I have no inclination to overdo it and, I dunno, intern at three different agencies before going back or something.
I'm just tired.
So in that nutshell - it's great here but I'm not in it 100%. I do look forward to the day I finish and can go home and kick back and relax a bit. I do look forward to applying for jobs and earning money; I'm pretty sick of being a broke student.
I enjoy studying and all that but I think I've been away from home for far too long and as much as life outside the bubble is much more colourful and exciting, I really do just want to sit on the swing in my garden and love life in slow, silent ways.
But. Back to my reality.
I have a paper due on Tuesday. I haven't been here for a week, even. And I've already got work due.
This'll be a very heavy semester for me; I'm taking one more class than I did last semester. And one of my classes is a PhD level class which I'm taking because the Professor is really, really good and everyone who's spoken about him has said to take a class with him if I ever get the chance.
So me and one of my closer coursemates have decided to take this class and we're the youngest in the class by far. Everyone else has multiple degrees, yeaaars worth of relevant experience and thinning scalps.
One of my classmates is an FBI agent, HOW COOL IS THAT! He even looks the part, it's magnificent. He's dressed well and old-ish but smart-ish and you can totally imagine the badge and everything, lol.
But I'm still class shopping, need to sign up for one more class and I don't know which.
I'm cold, I'm still kinda jetlagged and my appetite has increased 300% since I arrived. I'm constantly hungry, I haven't gone out to get groceries yet - thank goodness I still had some chicken in my freezer - and I've only just finished cleaning my room and unpacking.
I don't hate DC.
I don't.
I think DC is a great place, the university is great, my professors are great, it's all just... Great.
But it's not DC, it's me.
In a nutshell, I think I'm just tired of school and kindasortajustwanna go home.
I think doing my Masters straight after graduating was a bit of a catch 22, really. Leaving immediately didn't give me a chance to miss school, so all my leftover tiredness from final year just carried itself over in my personal ledger of motivation. It was more than a little stressful to move all my crap from the UK to Brunei, only for me to leave again before all my stuff even arrived. Everything happened way too fast and I stepped off the convocation dais straight into my next classroom.
But had I not left immediately, I might not have been able to defer entry so I wouldn't have been able to come to Georgetown. If I'd found a job, there was the possibility of me being tied down so I wouldn't get approval to leave the following year.
So I kinda had to go, even if I didn't really want to anymore.
And it's not DC, don't get me wrong.
I'm just not in a great state of mind anymore, having to reset my life when all the people I love and care for (with the exception of one or two) are either across the Atlantic in the UK or, literally, halfway across on the other side of the globe in Brunei.
It's tough, I'm jaded - I've been embroiled in the entire education system for almost twenty consecutive years now. The only break I'd ever had was the 9 months after my A'levels, which is probably why I left home more excited than anything and didn't suffer from any serious bouts of homesickness even if it was the first time I'd ever properly moved away from home.
I'm a big girl, I know. I can carry myself on my own. I'm old enough, mature enough and independent enough to live in this land so far, far away. I can take it. I'm made of pretty sturdy stuff.
But y'know, at the end of the day I truly am tired of doing what I should do. And I really do look forward to the day I do what I want to do.
I did want this. But it was really just a symptom of my over-ambitious self making lists and ticking boxes and drafting out my future resume.
This experience has and will continue to be good to me, I'm sure.
But I'm far less ambitious, and I'm just going through the motions and letting things fall into my lap as I go along. I'm not really seeking out co-curricular activities, I haven't networked at all, I can't be bothered to suck up to my professors outside of class, I don't really care about interning.
I was talking to one of my bestfriends, who is here too - thank goodness.
Well if anyone reading knows me at all, you probably know who I'm talking about. But mana tau she wouldn't want her name here or something haha.
But we were talking about how we should really do something, intern - make use of our time! This was at the very beginning. We were both really ambitious and determined to do supercalifragamazing things. And we really wanted to "do something with our lives".
It didn't take long for us to realise that.. Hang on, we already are.
Which is true.
I'm doing my Masters here. I'm already doing something with my life.
I have no inclination to overdo it and, I dunno, intern at three different agencies before going back or something.
I'm just tired.
So in that nutshell - it's great here but I'm not in it 100%. I do look forward to the day I finish and can go home and kick back and relax a bit. I do look forward to applying for jobs and earning money; I'm pretty sick of being a broke student.
I enjoy studying and all that but I think I've been away from home for far too long and as much as life outside the bubble is much more colourful and exciting, I really do just want to sit on the swing in my garden and love life in slow, silent ways.
But. Back to my reality.
I have a paper due on Tuesday. I haven't been here for a week, even. And I've already got work due.
This'll be a very heavy semester for me; I'm taking one more class than I did last semester. And one of my classes is a PhD level class which I'm taking because the Professor is really, really good and everyone who's spoken about him has said to take a class with him if I ever get the chance.
So me and one of my closer coursemates have decided to take this class and we're the youngest in the class by far. Everyone else has multiple degrees, yeaaars worth of relevant experience and thinning scalps.
One of my classmates is an FBI agent, HOW COOL IS THAT! He even looks the part, it's magnificent. He's dressed well and old-ish but smart-ish and you can totally imagine the badge and everything, lol.
But I'm still class shopping, need to sign up for one more class and I don't know which.