Change of post-graduation plans

I read about this Web site, http://www.freerice.com/ in the Washington Post recently but I never really paid it any attention until Vicki said she was using it to build vocab for the GRE. Well, I thought, as of six hours ago, I'm taking the GRE next year, so I might as well check it out (More on the latest life plan alteration in a minute).

The concept is simple. You've got a word with four choices and you pick which one best defines that word. If you get the answer right, you "donate" 20 grains of rice to the UN's World Food Program. The money for the rice comes from the banner ads that run at the bottom of the screen. There's no limit to how much you can play or donate, so I played until I donated 1000 grains of rice, then stopped.

I was pleasantly surprised by all the words I knew or could strategically figure out (It seems I got something out of that expensive SAT class after all). Given my government professor's heavily skeptical attitude toward the UN, I'm not sure if the rice is actually getting to those who need it most, but I'd like to think it is, and if nothing else, it's free practice for me.

So now, more on the life plan alteration: In place of class today, this professor held student conferences. Since I'm not having any grade issues, I figured he could give me some career advice, seeing as I've already established that I'm putting off grad school (hah, you'll see how well that holds up). Needless to say, after our conversation I walked out of his office debating whether I should apply to grad school (two more years of school), law school (three more years), or both (a whopping four more years of school). So much for standing by my decision.

I recounted the conversation to my roommates and told them how thoroughly confused I was. Everyone keeps telling me how great law school is and how it opens all sorts of doors. But I don't, nor have I ever really want to be a lawyer. Granted, and I know this sounds stupid, I don't really know what a lawyer actually does. I know I don't want to be a hard-core-always-in-the-courtroom-lawyer like the ones on T.V., but I also know that what's shown on T.V. is like 0.056 percent of what real lawyers do. But if everyone says I'd be good at law, well then shouldn't I just go for it? Who cares whether I actually want to do it. Thinking for yourself is so overrated anyways.

After expressing this frustration to the roomies, Vicki said from the way I was talking, it seems like I'd be happier pursuing the master's instead of the law degree, and that I shouldn't let what other people tell me get in the way of or completely change my decision.

Later on the phone with my parents, I told them I'd decided on grad school over law school. The reason? Because Vicki said that's what would make me happiest.

Oh dear - when am I going to make my own decisions?

Please, no Paris Jr.

I originally meant to post about today's field trip to USAToday (If my future place of employment is in a building that nice, I think my life would be utterly complete). But then I saw this, and I had to post it.

On our way back Sarabeth said she’s heard rumors that Britney is pregnant….again. And everyone in the car was like omg wtf why? So in an effort to procrastinate just a minute longer, I went on People’s web site to see if they had anything on it. Instead, I find this quote from Paris Hilton: “I was just telling her [Nicole Richie], ‘I want a baby so that our babies can play together.”

Yes Paris. That, that right there, is why we have offspring.

Further down, this: “I don’t have a boyfriend right now…but I would love to start a family," sometime within the next two years, she mentioned in the video.

Frankly, the only thing Paris Hilton should be starting right now is a space-walking program that would take her off this planet and out of our minds forever.

It's quite sad when Hollywood's latest accessory isn't a couture bag or even a ridiculously small pet, but a living breathing child.

Two reporting realizations

I don't think I've worked as hard on any other story for this journalism class as much as I am on this, my final story. Which makes sense, seeing as this story is 10 percent of my grade. The story is our last hurrah, a 20-paragraph, in-depth look at an issue on our beat. I'm back to the taxes again, and as much as I hate to admit it, it is kind of rewarding when I look at the other articles I've done on this issue how much I really have learned. The sad thing is that while understanding this issue makes me so proud, in real life, most people who see articles like these skip right over them, unless they're the ones directly affected, in which case more than half of what I include in the story they already know. But there are two other specific realizations I had while working on this story today that I'd like to share:

1) This whole semester, I've been approaching the whole calling sources thing with the "I need good quotes from you" mindset, when in actuality, I should not be so focused on transcribing the conversation, but rather, "you have valuable information to teach me." Maybe that's why I started out as a broadcast major - it seems that all I'm after is a sound bite. This realization follows with the whole, I need to ask better, more focused questions, rather than the softball "So what's your reaction to the council's resolution?"

2) It's very difficult, especially with an issue as controversial and convoluted as this tax issue, to separate fact from interpretation. This whole day, I've been researching what the lawyers told me yesterday about what's right and wrong, and when I called the councilmember's office to check something, his chief of staff told me, "Well, that is that attorney's assertion of the Master Plan. Another attorney will have a different opinion." And since no court has ruled on which interpretation is the "correct" on in terms of the law, I'll just have to settle with dealing with an issue to which there is "no absolute truth" as she put it.

*deep breath* Alright, time to dive back in so I can have a somewhat decent product to show Professor tomorrow and ask him whether I've gotten lost in the bureaucratic muck yet again.

La confianza

Cuando visitó, mi tío me dio un CD que se llama “Bella España,” y estoy escuchando a la música. Hay partes del Suite de Carmen de Bizet, que son algunos de las melodías más famosas de la música clásica, y otro obras músicas que no todavía escucho. He oído parte del “Carmen” tocando por violín, pero en este CD, es grabado con guitarra y los sonidos son tan magníficos con este instrumento. Como cada día pasa, el viaje a España viene más y mas cerca. Cuando escucho este música, puedo imaginar que estoy en un teatro en Madrid, mirar a un orquesta tocando o un baile flamenco.

Estaba pensando sobre el aprendizaje, y que tipos que tópicos escribiré sobre. Si es verdad, este tipo de escribir, sobre arte y entrenamiento me intimida un poco, y el concepto de entrevistar la gente en español me causa espanta. Ahora mismo aprendo como entrevistar bien en ingles, entonces, ¿como va a hacer esto en un idioma completamente extranjero? Si, la revista es en ingles, pero estaré en España, pues necesitaré usar el idioma.

Yo siempre reacciono como esto – hay mucho en el mundo que me intimida. No es que soy una persona tímida, completamente no. Es raro, es como mi mente no sabe como voy a hacer algo, pero mi cuerpo lo hace. Mis piernas camina a cualquier lugar, mis dedos marcan los números en el teléfono, y mi boca habla las preguntas que necesito preguntar. Y en fin, yo hizo todo casi perfectamente. Pienso que la gente, como mis profesores, no puede creer si digo a ellos que tengo miedo. Todos tienen confianza en mi, pero muchas veces, no me da cuenta que yo tengo habilidades superbuenos ¿Los editores me ofrecen este aprendizaje, no? Ellos miraron a mis artículos y tienen confianza que puedo sobrevivir hablar español y escribir sobre estos temas. Yo solamente necesito darme cuenta que he estudiado este idioma por ocho años, he sobrevivo la clase superdifícil del periodismo. Puedo hablar español y puedo escribir cualquier artículo si necesito y si quiero.

¿Porque no puedo apagar mi mente y simplemente hacer?

Crunch time?

Thanksgiving break has come and gone, and now it's crunch time at school. Luckily, I've only got 14 days - a full week less than everyone else on account of my no final exams status. Actually, that itself is kind of misleading; due to my wacked-out schedule, it's really only seven days of classes. And out of those seven days, only 18 hours and 45 minutes is actually class. And of that 19 or so hours, 3 hours are taken up by a field trip.

And yes, while it's true that I've got four final papers/articles due in these next two weeks, it's really not that bad. I'm working on my very last journalism article this week (!!), and so far so good. I spent this afternoon talking to people and I've gotten some good information. I'm meeting with my government professor on Thursday, so at least some of that paper will be done by then. A large part of the English paper is material from the first three group papers, and that leaves just the online journalism paper, my final Spanish interview, and one more round of production for the newspaper, and then I'm done for the semester. Three weeks later I roll out of the U.S. and embark on my Spanish adventure.

Damn, the life of this college student is pretty good right about now. Feel free to hate me...

(Hey I've been on the phone all day with lawyers and politicians - I'm allowed a minute or two to rest on my laurels).

Thanks Google Calendar, but no thanks

It's so frustrating wanting to do something but not knowing how. I really want to change this blog's layout and add more visual interest, like a photo graphic thingy. But, I have no idea how. My aunt has a blog on typepad, and she's got this really cool photo montage banner at the top. The Caffeinated Librarian has a graphic banner on her blog. And then there's mine, dark and dull and about as text-heavy as you can get.

The blogger layouts are all kind of boring - Karen used to make new layouts for her xanga every few weeks or so; when she gets back, I'd like to ask her how she does it, though I think it involves photoshop, which I don't have on my computer. I thought that after taking this online journalism course at school, I'd be able to play around with the coding and create something new, but alas, looking at the coding for these blogger layouts immediately makes me want to pop two aspirin and lie down.

It's funny, everyone thinks that being under the age of 25 means you automatically know everything about computers and online technology. But, like all stereotypes, this just isn't true (recall my utter fascination with Google's satellite map, which has been around forever, and my lack of photoshop usage). Only two months ago did I learn what an RSS feed is, and the only mainstream blog I regularly check is Salon's Broadsheet. I've heard of all those others, Wonkette, the Drudge Report, the Huffington Post, but have never checked them out. I still don't know exactly what Digg, Reddit, Del.icio.us and Twitter are, and despite the fact that all our journalism professors keep saying that the only way we'll get a job is if we keep up with all these internet advancements, I've got no real desire to do so. I figure, I already spend enough time staring at the computer screen that my eyesight will probably be all but gone by the age of 50, so I'd rather not spend any more time than I already do perusing this vortex we call the internet.

And even though Google is taking over the world, I'm still wary of jumping in wholeheartedly. While almost everyone I know lauds the benefits of Google Calendar, I must be the only one who finds it slightly disconcerting that every date I enter will probably be stored somewhere out there in the nebulous realm we call cyberspace. In this day and age where a paper trail can be the kiss of death for anyone climbing the career ladder, I'm not eager to volunteer any more information than I have to, even if it's as mundane as the due date for my paper on the role of NGOs (and yes, I realize that by keeping a blog, I'm doing just that, but I made it clear from the very beginning I find this whole blogging this suspicious in its own right). Call me old-fashioned (or paranoid after reading that previous sentence), but I still enjoy keeping a little day planner and hand-writing all my dates in. Think of it this way - if someone finds that planner 150 years from now, (assuming they still know what paper at that point), that sloppy color coded script will remind them that behind all these documents are real people with real personalities and emotions and desires, not drones who lived a life scripted in the same sterile size 12 Arial font.

Black Friday PSA

As Black Friday dawns, I want to remind all the frantic shoppers out there of one important thing. As you scour the stores for the best deal of the season and fight it out with the woman next to you for the last lead-free toy left on shelves, don't forget to keep a watch on your belongings.

On Tuesday I was shoe shopping, and as I tried on a pair of shoes, I naturally rested my purse on the floor for a moment. I turned around to retrieve it and it wasn't there. The store wasn't even that crowded, yet someone had still made off with it. We searched the store for about an hour, aisle after aisle, until I realized there was really nothing more I could do than just leave my phone number with the manager and hope for the best.

As I walked around peering under racks, I was proud of myself for not panicking. I've gotten a lot better at that whole not panicking thing over the past few months, finally internalizing the fact that freaking out does absolutely nothing to change the situation. (The closest I've come to that heart-pounding panic lately is the one time I called the guy I like, but that's panic of a slightly different sort). I remembered that sometime last summer I spent about two painstaking hours copying all the numbers from my cell phone, by hand, into a notebook. Plus, there wasn't more than $30 in the wallet and the credit card could be canceled. The things I actually missed most was actually the business card from the Indian restaurant Supraja and I ate dinner at in Paris and this list I made in 8th or 9th grade of the 100 things I wanted to do before I die (which I later realized wasn't even in the wallet). And there could be a bright side to this - after all, hadn't I been saying I needed to get a new purse.

Luckily, perhaps very luckily, I got a phone call from Papa early Wednesday morning saying that the store called and that they'd found the purse wedged under the clearance rack. Everything but the cash was still there, including the red wallet that I lamented losing (I think I may have been more sad at losing the wallet itself than the actual purse).

So, moral of this story is, no matter how unlikely you think it is, please please keep vigilant watch over your purse, shopping bags, and most importantly young kids, because as cliche as it is, it really only takes an instant for them to disappear, and no matter how much you think otherwise, yes, it can happen to you. So take inventory of everything in your wallet, write all your cell phone numbers somewhere, and while we're at it, don't forget to back up your computers' hard drives, save all your digital photographs to CDs and change your smoke detector batteries, because we all know that the last thing anyone needs during this time of year is more stress.

Real Thanksgiving (well, sort of)

While many of you are probably settling in around the dinner table, about to dig into that freshly roasted turkey, my table is clear and the leftovers are already packed and sitting in the fridge.

My uncle from Luxembourg was in the U.S. for a week on business and he swung by and spent yesterday here. Since his flight home is today, we had our Thanksgiving dinner last night. It's kind of nice actually, having the feast early, because it gives the illusion of having more time off. Instead of this whole day being eaten up with Thanksgiving prep, I've got the four full days to chill out.

It's always nice seeing Mamu - this time we talked about my upcoming semester abroad and traveling around Europe. He, Susan Auntie and Sara visited Madrid last month, and while he couldn't say much about the food (he's not the first) he said the city is great and that I'm going to enjoy it a lot. Yesterday evening we took a walk around the neighborhood and as we marveled at all the fall leaves, we talked about vacations and traveling. Since he's already seen so much of Europe, a lot of what he sees now just looks the same, he said. The best thing to do, he said, is to not over-plan and sometimes the best thing to do is just sit at a cafe, sipping your beer and taking in the city. Often times, it's those little experiences that you remember most about a trip, he said. And I totally believe that; after all, the first thing that comes to mind from my trip to Paris last spring was when Supraja and I wandered through the Jewish quarter eating delicious falafel.

It's sometimes funny to think that Mamu and Mom are siblings; he's so laid-back and carefree and Mom is such a worrier. Then again I'm a heck of a lot crazier than Neeraj. Oh well, there's family for you.

Anyways, after we got back from our walk, Mamu and I scoured the website of Europe's discount airline Ryan Air and found where all I could go from Madrid. The more and more I talk about next semester, the more exciting it gets. As we headed to the airport to drop Mamu off, Mom was talking about how January has got to be the most depressing month, since all the fun of the holidays is gone. I realized that my January will be a bit more exciting than most. It's kind of intimidating but still oh-so-exciting, especially because I know that if anything happens, well, Luxembourg is only a four hour flight away.

But I must not get ahead of myself. While Thanksgiving may be over, there's still the holiday season to enjoy (not to mention all those leftovers :) So even though the only chicken (turkeys are too big to cook), cranberry sauce and stuffing I'm getting tonight is the reheated version, I hope you all are enjoying yours! Happy Thanksgiving!

Fake Thanksgiving

How many strikes does a person get before he's out? Well, in baseball, the answer is a simple three. But in real life, it's not so cut and dry.

You may have noticed that it's been a while since I mentioned the Yankees. Yes October maybe over with, but my silence here doesn't mean I haven't been following what's going on. The manager deal, the trade talks, A-Rod; I know it's all happening, but it's the news of Jeter's "tarnished image" that is compelling me to write today. After I read the I read Friday's New York Times story on how Jeter may have lied about his residency status to avoid paying city and states taxes, the cynic in me immediately came out. Ah ha, it cried, I told you, nobody is perfect.

I thought back to this book I read when I was younger, Sean Covey's "7 Rules of Highly Effective Teens." One of the early chapters explained how you should base your life around principles instead of things like material possessions or famous people. What happens when the famous people screw up, Covey asked? Where does that leave you? Even a seemingly flawless star is bound to have some skeletons that emerge from their closet. And while I've never thought of myself as wrapped up with the star shortstop, it did strike me a little odd that I didn't feel anything really, when I read the article. I didn't feel sad or angry or betrayed, and we're talking about the guy who got me into college here, remember.

I don't feel bad for him, that's for sure. I mean, the guy makes $14 million a year; he isn't exactly struggling to pay the rent. And the impression that I got was that he is a pretty frugal guy, not too much of a big spender. Then why in the world would he fudge around with taxes. I guess more than anything, the news left me curious. Mom said that at least it wasn't like he'd done anything bad on the field. But to me, cheating is cheating, and while I'll be looking out for more information on all this, I'm not exactly shedding any tears. That said, is he still my favorite player? Well yes, though I may not admire him as much as I used to if the allegations are true. But once again, none of us is perfect, and while I blame him for getting into the whole situation, I do give him (and most other famous people) credit for having to deal with every bad thing that happens to them in a very public way (though you'd think the millions of dollars they make is at least somewhat of a consolation to life in the public eye).

We had a similar discussion in journalism class today. Recently, the Post's classical music critic Tim Page sent a vicious e-mail to Marion Barry's office that was meant to request that Page's e-mail address be removed from a listserv, but ended up calling the councilman a "useless...crack-addict," We discussed to what level should journalists restrict themselves and debated what action should be taken against Page. All of us agreed that it was a stupid move on Page's part to send such a message over the internet and through his Post account, but almost all of us also agreed that Pulitzer Prize-winning Page doesn't deserve to be fired over such a thing. Obviously, some action should be taken, but seeing as the guy writes about classical music and not D.C. politics, perhaps firing him would be taking it too far. Prof said that increasingly nowadays, people's mistakes create a storm of controversy and you get hell for it for about a week, and then the brouhaha disappears and things go back to normal.

I don't think that's necessarily reserved for nowadays. Hasn't it always been like that, at least in terms of personal relationships. Sure, the technology makes it worse to make a mistake nowadays because the whole world can hear about it before you have a chance to wipe your hands off, but we've always had to deal with the shortcomings of friends and family and accept them for the flawed people they are.

This Saturday my friends planned a "Fake Thanksgiving" potluck, and I had intended on partaking in the festivities. But as the day went on, my mood soured until I got to the point where I had no desire to leave my room or speak to anyone for fear that I'd snap back. I couldn't even tell where the anger and frustration were coming from; true, earlier my roommates had tried to force me to see a movie I didn't want to, but I knew that wasn't the only thing that was bothering me. Needless to say I spend the evening in my room drifting in and out of sleep while they enjoyed the feast outside.

By Sunday I'd recovered and was back to my regular self. Around dinner time I opened the fridge, where, to my surprise, I found an aluminum-foil covered plate of food with my name and last night's menu printed on it. I smiled and popped into the microwave. Three minutes later I enjoyed the absolutely delicious (and I genuinely mean that - one day these girls are going to make some husbands very happy at dinnertime) meal they'd kindly set aside for me. It wasn't until later, when I told Mom about it, and she pointed out that they'd done that for me despite the fact that I hadn't asked them to and even though I'd maintained quite the frosty attitude throughout the day.

And then I realized, no matter what stupid things you do, whether you cheat on taxes, blow a fuse at someone, or just plain ignore the people around you, most of the time, they aren't just going to write you off. Boy it's nice to know that people will stick around even when you're not at your best. So thanks girls for making my evening last night!

My new Spanish mother

I just called my host mother in Spain to figure out when I should arrive, and, well let's just say the next couple months are going to be interesting, to say the least. You see, in the midst of our nine-minute conversation, she mentioned to me that she doesn't speak any English.

This wasn't my first time speaking in Spanish on the phone; I did it when I called the university over the summer. That time I had spent all my effort memorizing my introduction that I forgot to prepare my questions in Spanish. I mean, I had a gist of what I wanted to ask, but when I was actually on the phone speaking to an actual Spanish speaker in Spain, I completely blanked and ended up stringing a bunch of random words together until she realized how much I was struggling and transferred me to someone who knew some English.

It's not that I don't know Spanish, I've emailed back and forth in Spanish and don't really find it difficult. But speaking is always the hardest part of learning a language, and while everyone says that people appreciate it when you attempt to talk in their native language, it really takes a lot of guts to suck it up and sputter out what you're trying to say to someone whose fluency level you will probably never reach.

Needless to say, I was pretty nervous about calling my host mother, since this is the person I will be living with for about five months, and unlike the people at the university's international programs department, I couldn't exactly assume she knew any English. At Sash's suggestion, I prepared a script of sorts and finally dialed the number. It was about 8:15 or so her time and no one answered, so I left a message with my e-mail address. I called again an hour later and this time she picked up.

Immediately it was difficult because there was an echo on the phone, so not only did I have to think of vocabulary and conjugate verbs, but I had to hear it all played back to me. I think it was only a problem on my end, because she didn't seem to be having any issues hearing me. The script was pretty handy until I actually started having a conversation with her, at which point I had to think of replies. I also, of course, had to try and understand what she was saying, though I'm pretty sure I got most of it. She did mention something about me being student number nine, and I have no clue what she meant. Maybe I'm the ninth student she's hosted (I really hope she didn't say that she is hosting nine of us at the same time, because that could get quite interesting). She asked where I was from and if I had any dietary restrictions, and I tried to ask her about the weather, but I'm pretty sure what came out was "Is it cold in the winter? "She seemed pretty flexible about the dates and I told her I'd give her another call once the flight is finalized, and that was pretty much that.

So there it is - I'm embarking on a real life adventure in about six weeks. I'm spending five, probably eight months, in a foreign country where they speak a language I've never truly been exposed to outside of nine years in a classroom. And best of all, my entire life has to be packed into two suitcases, and that's supposed to last me those eight months. Oh, 2008 is going to be one interesting year. Stay tuned!

Dead trees, fall leaves and one very cool map

Okay so I totally did not know about the satellite feature on Google maps and it is SO COOL!! (I haven't really stopped to think about how creepy it actually is, but hey, let me enjoy this). I just looked up my house (which by the way is wrong - Google maps labeled the house next to mine as mine) and my apartment and the place where I'm going to be living in Spain and my cousin's house in New Delhi and my other cousin in Luxembourg and ohmigod this thing is just about the coolest thing I've seen in a very long time!!

Alright - momentary lapse of sanity right there. Anyways, today I got the info for my host mother in Spain, and according to Google maps, she lives only 10 minutes away from the university. (I'm pretty sure it's 10 minutes by car though, so not sure how relevant that fact actually is). As I was looking around the map it really hit me that I'm going to be in Europe next semester, away from everyone and everything I know. And, not to knock everyone and everything here, but that prospect is refreshing and invigorating and oh so exciting. I'm almost done with this hellish semester (26 days!!!!), and while next semester is slightly daunting and intimidating, it will be like nothing I've ever done before.

Anyways, things have been slightly weird around here. Weird in the sense that I don't remember the last time I saw a blue sky - it's just been days and days of gray. One day it sort of rained, another it was kind of misty, and then another you could feel the rain lurking in the air around you, but it wasn't actually there. Last night I was walking around the mall on the center of campus and it was the eeriest thing I've ever seen - the entire expanse of grass was covered in this mist, just like the fake mist created by dry ice at low-budget magic shows. I thought to myself, if it was Halloween right now, I would kind of be scared out of my mind. It really looked like something out of a Hitchcock movie or something. But it wasn't cold and it was fairly early in the night (8 p.m.) so it wasn't totally sketchy. You would think that with a misty field would come the howling wind and people bundled up in coats and scarves, but it's been pretty warm for this time of year. Today it was supposed to touch 69 - walking around you saw people in shorts and people in coats.

And it's not just the weather that's strange. Yesterday I was walking to the journalism building to work on a project, and the moment I turned the corner, I knew something was missing. As I walked down the steps, I saw a gigantic tree stump and realized that just the day before, when I had gone to my journalism class, there used to be a big old friendly tree there. And now it was gone, just like that. It was so sad to think that something as large and and stable and seemingly immovable as a tree was subject to the same rude awakening as the leaves that fell off it. I guess it just reminded me that nothing is ever really safe. In just the past two days I've walked by the stump about six times and each time a tiny part of me dies along with it.

But while some trees are being cut down, others are just coming to life. Well, not really, but all the twiggy trees in the courtyard outside my apartment have suddenly decided to debut their fall colors. I thought that the autumn colors peaked weeks ago, but apparently I was wrong. One of them has leaves that are this intense orangey-red color that has to be one of the most beautiful colors I've ever seen. And another one is a paler yellow-orange that is also stunning. Further away from the building is another gigantic multi-tonal tree, and while its colors aren't as pretty, there's just something about it that is striking. Hopefully it's one of the big trees on campus that isn't on the chopping block.

The other weird thing that I've noticed is that my hair has been really curly lately and I realized today that it is probably because of the pseudo-humidity nestled into all this gray. My hair isn't the spiral, mop-top kind of curly, but rather looser ringlets. Usually it's wavy, but lately it's been making the move over to curly. I'm not sure how I feel about it. I mean, I think it looks great, but I look at myself in the mirror and I can see the difference. Ever since I got to college, I think my hair has just been making a gradual transition to curly-ness, since I don't remember it agreeing with me in high school. It wasn't ever straight or curly back then, just straight up frizzy and poofy and disagreeable. So I guess the current curls are drastic improvement, especially because it literally styles itself. I know, I know, every girl is going to hate me when I say this, but I actually don't have to style it at all for it to look this way. I just walk out of the shower, slap on some mousse and I'm ready to go.

Alright, well that's the random amalgamation of thoughts that have occupied my mind this week. Now I think it is advisable that I put my mind to more productive means, like writing my English paper or studying for my government test. Yeah, I should really get on that...

Accepting What I Don't Want

You know what's really frustrating? When people keep trying to push the benefits of something you aren't interested in. The university keeps sending me information on scholarships for graduate school and they won't stop. I know what you're thinking - what kind of problem is that? Let me explain:

First of all, I'm not going to graduate school immediately after undergraduate. Originally, my life plan had me going straight into grad school, just to get it over with. But then real life intervened and the plan kind of fell apart. So, I decided, for a couple of reasons, that I would go out and work for a year or two before going to grad school. Right now, I'm planning on getting my master's degree in international affairs, but I'm not sure what concentration I want to do. There's also still a tiny crevice in the back of my mind that is considering law school, but that's a whole other story. And practically speaking, I have no time during my undergraduate career to study for and take the GRE/LSAT. But I think the real reason I want to put off grad school is that I don't think I could handle another two to three years of school.

Upon graduation, I will have packed so much into these four years that I honestly do not think I could deal with two more years of exams and papers and grades. I know, everyone keeps telling me to appreciate college because life certainly doesn't get easier in the real world, but I think I just need some time out of academia to figure out what I really want to do with my life. You know, I really hate doing that, admitting that I don't know what I want to do. When I do, it makes me feel weak or unprepared. I really don't know why I only feel comfortable when I've got a plan. It's not that I'm against spontaneity, I'd just rather know what's going on/be in control of what's going on. I'm still coming to terms with the fact that it's okay to not know everything.

Anyways, back to the scholarship thing. I've been to a couple of grad school scholarship sessions, one before I finalized my grad school decision, and one after. However, the latter event appeared to be a leadership and scholarship event, though it basically gave me the same exact scholarship information as the first one. There were a bunch of scholarship reps there and every time they talked to me, I had to tell them I wasn't going straight to grad school, and as you saw above, that's not the easiest thing for me to say, especially when almost every one of my friends is going straight to grad school. I guess it almost makes me feel dumb, in a way, to say that I'm not going directly to grad school. I almost want to blurt out my GPA along with that statement, just to show people that I am actually smart. Call it insecurity or whatever, but I like I said earlier, admitting that I don't know what I want to do anymore makes me feel like I'm not as good as everyone around me.

But, back to the point of this post. I got the impression that the scholarships were for people going directly to grad school, so even if I were to get a scholarship, I wouldn't be able to use it. People kept telling me some scholarships can be deferred, but that still doesn't address the main concern I have with all this pesky scholarship business, which is the research aspect that comes along with many of them.

I've found that I don't really like doing research. I have a legitimate basis for that feeling, because one of the many things I'm doing as an undergraduate is research, albeit team research, but we're still investigating something and writing a 150 page thesis. The whole thing is just very frustrating for me. And seeing as doing research involves dealing with unexpected changes, which as we all know I don't handle quite well, I walk out of many of our team meetings frustrated on a good day and angry on a bad day.

It seems to me that you pour years of your time and effort into a research project, and for what? The thesis is shelved into the annals of the university library or a journal database, where some slacker college student researching a paper for a class he has no interest in stumbles upon your findings the night before the paper is due, turns to a random page, pulls the most intellectual sounding quote he finds, inserts into his paper (properly attributed of course) and moves on, not pausing for a minute to even learn the title of your research.

Call me cynical, but I just don't like to spend my time doing something unless I know what it's purpose is. I also know I'm grossly underestimating the value of academic research here, and that without academic research, there would be no progress or innovation, but it's just that I want to do something with my time and with my life that will make an immediate, observable difference.

This leads me to something else I've been dying to write about, which is how I seriously don't know what want to do anymore. But seeing as this post has already become waaaay to long and rambly, I'll save that for another post.

Just a Message, Short and Sweet

It's funny how the littlest things sometimes make the biggest difference in your day. It was just a quick message from a friend, but it had me walking to class with a smile. It's not that I was even having a bad day, (the day ended up getting worse later on,) but it was definitely a welcome surprise when opening my inbox.

On Sunday, I saw a car with South Carolina tags and I thought of a friend of mine who lives there. She went to my university freshman year, but this school wasn't really a good fit for her, so she transferred to a school closer to home. We became pretty close that year, and I hadn't talked to her in a while, so I left her a message asking how everything was going and to tell her I missed her.

Around noon today, I read her reply, in which she told me how well everything was going. She ended the message with, "I miss you and I love ya always. You were one of the only things that got me through freshman year - and I will always be grateful for you."

Now I know it's a tad sappy, but she's one of those people who you know genuinely cares about you and means things when she says them. Imagine what a better place the world would be if we spent more time telling people how much they mean to us instead of constantly criticizing and accusing them.

This girl is one of the sweetest girls I've ever met and I'm genuinely happy that things are going so well for her. She's found a major and a career path that she's really passionate about, she's planning on graduating early and things are going really well with her boyfriend. It's funny, while I'm always happy for friends when good things happen, I'm usually also a teeny bit jealous at their success. (Oh come on, you know you do it too). But with her, I'm just genuinely happy. It's not that she doesn't have things to be envious of - I'm not having the success she is in the boy department, that's for sure. But there's something about her that makes you think, gosh she just deserves it all.

It's really nice to know that even if you live far away or don't talk to each other too often, there's someone out there who cares for you, and they aren't afraid to show it. We need more people like that in the world.

Wrong Answers and Everlasting Newspapers

If you don't know the right answer, feeding someone wrong information is about the last thing you should do, right? Funny how so many people seemingly missed that lesson in Common Sense 101.

Yesterday I called the health center to see if I could come in for a flu shot.

"We're all out," was the reply I got.

"Well, are you ordering any more?" I asked.

"Nope,"

Already out of flu shots? On November 5? This week we're doing a health/science story for my journalism class, and Prof said we could move out of our beats on this one and just find something on campus to write about. Bingo, I thought, this apparent flu vaccine will be my story for the week.

So I called the nurse in charge of immunizations today, and when I asked her about the shortage:

"What shortage?" she replied. "We've still got vaccines. You just have to make an appointment for the shot."

Huh? Really? I don't know who I talked to yesterday or why she told me they were all out, but there has to be a chink in the bureaucratic chain if you get two polar opposite answers to the same exact questions.

And though this may be slightly unrelated, it's the same with all the advisors too.

"So, I've met with you and fulfilled my advising requirement, right?" I ask them every semester before registration.

"Of course you have, your registration block will be lifted," they say every time.

But, lo and behold, every day before I register for classes, the block is still there and it takes a slightly frustrated email to have them lift it. Every single time. Really - I've got enough on my plate without having to do someone else's job thank you very much.

Anyways, this post isn't all ranting, I promise. I was walking out of the journalism building today and found a couple copies of the Washington Post. I picked one up and remembered why newspapers could never die. Because, call me old-fashioned, but I just can't read a newspaper on the computer. I'm sorry, I grew up reading the words on a real piece of paper and I don't plan on changing that anytime soon. There's something about opening up the fold, pulling out the neatly tucked-in sections and scanning the page, seeing what piques your interest. It's not even necessarily what piques your interest - I check the Post's website fairly regularly, but hardly read the front page stories because either they don't really interest me or I know I won't be able to stand reading a 35-inch story on my computer screen. But then I pick up the actual paper and usually skim each story (unless the headline says something like "The Fed...interest rates...mortgages....economy," then the story's got no chance whatsoever in my book.

See - there's more to me than just one big complaint after another.

I am 'Scrubs'

This weekend I finally had some free time, so I decided to live up to the lazy college student stereotype watched about 25 episodes (not including the six I just watched this afternoon) of "Scrubs" aka the best television show since "Friends."

I saw a couple of episodes last year and liked what I saw, but since I really don't like watching TV shows unless I've seen them from the beginning, I didn't really get beyond those few. But, since I for once had some time on my hands, I decided, hey what the hell.

It was funny because I saw a some of the first season with Supraja a couple weeks ago and I made a comment about how I couldn't stand Elliot. She was the show-off who would never shut up and who you just want to grab by the shoulders and shake. But this weekend when I made it haflway into the first season, I realized why exactly Elliot stuck a nerve.

She's exactly like me.

No, seriously. Total goody two shoes whose biggest fear is having to make a decision in a situation where the right answer can't just be looked up in a book; overzealous, ambitious control freak who is desperately seeking the approval of her superiors and colleagues; young neurotic woman who is (sort of almost) about to jump into the real world without having any clue as to how it works since her parents have always provided for her every need; and finally, the over-analyzer who has to have and thought she had her entire life planned out, right down to her career and the age-window she has to get married in, but is now realizing that a little thing called life kind of gets in the way of all that planning.

Me, me, me, and oh God yes, me.

Seriously, this semester I've been convinced my English teacher doesn't like me, so I met with him to go over the guidelines for one of our papers so that he would realize how much getting an A in class means to me, just like how Elliot was willing to do everything for Dr. Cox in that one episode, including delivering every patient the bad news they had no desire to hear. She may get all the answers right, but she slaves away over those textbook so much that when people like JD are just good at everything, she can't handle it. She is unable to stand up to anyone, like those gyno gals from that one episode in Season 2. She's secretly happy when every doctor is finally paying some attention to her, even if the attention is due to her hookup with a doctor she rarely knew. (Okay, we may differ slightly there, but the whole needing to be the center of attention no matter what, that's shared). Throw in Turk's relentless ambition, subtract the blonde hair and desire to become a doctor and bam, you've got me in a nutshell. (Hell watching all this Scrubs such little time has made a teensy part of me actually want to become a doctor. Scary, I know).

So beyond my little personal revelation, this massive Scrubs marathon has wreaked havoc in one other way - I'm kind of unable to do anything else but watch it. Seriously, I don't know how I'm actually going to get any work done this week, or for the rest of the semester for that matter. I just don't seem to grasp the concept of moderation (remember the 4,000 pages of books I read in three days this summer?)

Oh dear :)

Bonding with the Bro

Yesterday Neeraj called and asked if I could edit his English narrative for him. I agreed and what was supposed to be me just going over his essay turned into a two-hour long bonding session. Well, maybe that's a bit of an overstatement, but it's the first time in a long time we've had a really nice conversation.

Neeraj is not as talkative as I am, and we don't really talk much over the phone, though I attribute that more to his just being a guy than being shy. I mean, Papa and I always have really great conversations in person, but it's just not the same over the phone. And lately Neeraj has been so swamped with work that we never really have time to chill because he's always got some kind of project or essay or test to prepare for.

So we were going over his narrative and he told me how bad it was because he'd written the rough draft late at night, but as I read it, I thought it was actually quite good. I remember when we were younger, I used to make up stories and type them up on the computer (The typing part was more exciting to me than the actual story creation). After seeing me do it, he used to do the same thing, and would come up with stories and poems and type them up in funky fonts. Ah the childhood memories. And even though he eventually lost interest in creative writing, I've read some of his essays for school and he still does have writing talent.

But anyways, as we were going over his draft, he was telling me about school and how crazy it all is, what with the 5 AP classes he's taking this year. It was nice because generally when I ask him about school he doesn't want to talk about it because he's like - that's all I do all week, I need a break from school.

I really don't know how he does it all. I told him that there's no way I could have handled all the work he has when I was his age. Hell, I can hardly handle all the work I have right now. I don't know if it's just me being old, but I really don't think I got as much work in high school as he's getting right now. I admire him for taking it all on though - 5 APs is something I never attempted in my four years. And while sometimes it bother me that he's that classic guy who keeps most of his emotions hidden, I guess that could come in handy sometimes, especially when dealing with this much work. I mean, yes he complains, but he complains in a different way than I do. His style is more quiet, more subdued. He'll complain about school, but it's more of a wistful, shrug of the shoulders complaining. Me, I'll get really heated and angry and frustrated and panicky about all the work I have to do. Sometimes my complaining will end up in a rant about how getting a B on a paper will somehow result in me being a complete and total failure at life. (I promise, it only gets that far some of the time). Neeraj, he doesn't get that worked up, not at all. We both get our work done, but it seems like he accepts it and does it, while there are times that I simply fume my way through it.