A Perfect Ending

The night ended with me walking home laughing hysterically and sobbing. And I wasn’t crying from joy. The past six months studying abroad have been a rollercoaster of emotions and experiences, and it all just hit me at once in a flurry.

Tonight I went to the student bar with my usual group of friends and we hung out there making fun of what the girls across the room were wearing and throwing old receipts at each other and taking ridiculous photos and laughing a bit too loud. Then we headed to a pub down the road for Karaoke Night and there we ran into another group of international students. There were about fifteen or twenty of us and everyone was getting along (which is not always the case). A few of my friends sang and each time we would all join in and cheer loudly at awkward moments. In those moments I couldn’t help but just look around and try to commit the whole thing to memory – the sounds, the people, and the way I felt. We sang along to Backstreet Boys’ songs and Hakuna Matata and American Pie. We took loads of pictures. And some of us (not me) danced even though everyone else was sitting.

It was one of the most memorable nights of the past six months of my life. And at the end of it I had to say goodbye to two lovely girls who I never even expected to like. They are leaving tomorrow and many others are leaving in the next few days – and I’m leaving in five days as well. I hugged them goodbye and tried so hard not to cry. I glanced through the room one last time before leaving, knowing that I would never see some of those people ever again. I said goodbye to two, but I’m sure there will be others whom I will not see again before I leave.

I walked home with the best friend I have made here, who has quickly become one of the best friends I have ever had. And the tears started, and they didn’t stop for two blocks. I was truly sad to be leaving those girls and sad that we would never go out as a group like that ever again and sad that the next five days will just get more and more lonely until I’m standing at the airport by myself. And I was so happy that the night had gone the way it had, a truly perfect end to the past six months. So I laughed through my tears.

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What Makes a Good Friend?

            Who hasn’t had problems with their best friend? No one, that’s who. I hope I’m also not the only one who occasionally thinks that maybe I shouldn’t be best friends with this person. When I first met my best friend I felt like this was a person I wanted to be friends with, I felt like we had a lot in common but also like we were different enough to be good for each other. At the present moment I’m feeling like we are similar in all the worst ways and have nothing important in common. I’m probably just saying this because I’m in a bad mood, but this is my completely anonymous blog – so I can say whatever I want.

            Why am I feeling like this right now? I’ll tell you why: there is a party on campus tonight and I want to go and she doesn’t. The party is literally a one minute walk from our apartment and it is school sponsored so it has a dance floor and games and stuff like that (so it’s not like some wild party). She claims that she doesn’t want to go because she has stuff to do and has work at 8am tomorrow. I’m not arguing with her or trying to convince her to go, I said it doesn’t matter to me (I couldn’t convince her to go if I tried). But the thing is, I keep wondering when she is going to go out of her comfort zone. I do it all the time (although it may not be so obvious to her, because my comfort zone is quite large). If she wanted to do anything – go to a dance, a party, an event – I would go with her, and I have. She has also gone to things I have suggested, but only if she already wanted to go. I just feel like we are in college!!!! We should not be getting eight hours of sleep every night (I don’t, trust me. But she gets like 8-11 hours of sleep a night!!). Having work at 8am is no excuse not to go and at least check it out! This is part of the reason why I wanted to study abroad next semester: I feel like I’m not getting the full college experience. I want to go to parties (occasionally), I want to participate in underage drinking (at least once!!), I want to be busy, stressed, sleep deprived (I’m totally succeeding at this! It’s not fun, but it feels more college-y than anything I else I do). I’m not in college to be a responsible adult; we have the rest of our lives for that. I want to live!

            The other, completely unrelated, reason why I’m mad at my best friend (who is also my roommate) is that she asked me today why I haven’t been doing any of my dishes lately. This alone doesn’t bother me, it’s fine that she called me out on it. I have been forgetful lately (but I by no means have completely stopped doing dishes. I forget to wash a plate here and there and leave forks in the sink occasionally) and have not been the best roommate lately. But I told her that I am extremely stressed out and I’ve just not been myself. I think I’ve been pretty understanding when she is stressed and freaking out. But I feel like since she takes antidepressants and goes to counseling she acts like anyone who doesn’t have an actual diagnosed reason for being upset isn’t actually capable of being legitimately stressed out. Like my problems don’t matter as much as hers because I’m supposedly more mentally stable. I know that I cannot accurately judge her on this issue, but I feel like she doesn’t realize that she is not the only one who has problems. We all have to deal with shit and we all get stressed. My feelings do matter, just as much as hers. I should be allowed to be stressed out and mess up every once in a while. Not to mention the fact that I am an English major and she is a science major, which also means that she thinks that I have way easier classes than her (I will be blogging about this soon, because it is driving me nuts).

            I guess I just want to end this horribly long rant with a question: what makes a good friend? Because I can criticize her all I want, but I know that I’m not a great friend either. I’ve been struggling with this for years, trying to figure out how to be a good friend, and I just can’t get it right. Maybe she doesn’t quite get it either. Maybe none of us do… or maybe it’s just me. I’ve seen many examples of really solid friendships. But I wonder how much of that just shows up on the surface and if there are really problems underneath the façade of smiling faces. We can’t all get along all the time. Maybe what really defines a friendship is how you make it through the periods when you can’t stand each other.

Awkward Friend Situation

            I was trying to think of something to blog about that wouldn’t be about school, like every other post I write. But then I realized that school is my life. I can’t rant about work, or my love life, or friend drama… well, actually! Maybe I do have something to blog about after all! I seriously just thought of this, and it’s not really friend drama, but it could become friend drama.

            So, I have this guy friend, we’ll call him Devon. He’s pretty much the only guy friend I have. The thing with Devon is that he compliments everyone, and he does it all the time. He is constantly telling me I look nice, or he likes my dress, or my shoes are cool, etc. And I can’t tell if he is hitting on me or not. The compliments alone would not bring me to believe he is hitting on me, but he also says other things that make me nervous. The most surprising was when my group of friends started watching a horror movie the other night and he said to me “it’s pretty scary, you might need someone to hold your hand.” WTF!

            I guess I should tell you that I do NOT have any feelings toward Devon except for friendship. And I can say with almost certainty that I will never like him like that. I’m typically pretty open to guys (not that it gets me anywhere – I’m still alarmingly single), but Devon is just not my type. This is all besides the fact that I am friends with his ex-girlfriend. We are all in one big group of friends.

            Chances are pretty good that Devon doesn’t like me in any special way. But he’s making me a bit uncomfortable because I can’t read him, and I don’t want my friends to think that I’m going after him just because he talks to me all the time and I talk back. I’m probably just being silly and paranoid, but I just wish he could either get a girlfriend or stop complimenting me.

Why Do I Act Stupid?

 Warning: Long reflection/rant ahead. If you want the short version just read the first and last paragraphs.

            It really bothers me when people (mostly my roommate/best friend who I spend most of my time with) remark at how bad I am at math or lacking in knowledge of science. But then I realize that the only reason they think what they think is because of my actions and what I have told them.

            As an English major I bash my math skill on a daily basis, but I’m not actually bad at math. Granted, I’m not great at math, but I’ve never had major problems understanding any math class I’ve taken. I got an A in every math class I took between seventh grade and tenth grade. Then I took a two-year break from math, which resulted in a poor SAT score and a C in my final semester of math. But I fully believe that if I had studied more I would have done fine on the SAT’s (I literally hadn’t had a single math class in two years at the time of the test, and I didn’t study for the SAT’s because I was going through a very difficult time in my life), and that class I got a C in could easily have been an A if I hadn’t had such a long break from math. In college I’ve gotten A’s in the low division course I had to take to make up for my SAT score and the statistics class I took last term as a general ed. requirement. These are low-level math classes, but not everyone gets A’s in them or even passes. I’m not bragging, that’s not the point of this post (and I don’t think anything I’ve said is worth bragging over), I’m simply trying to show that math has never been an issue with me. So why do I act like I’m barely proficient in math? Why is it that no one I’ve met in college would ever believe me if I said I like math (which I honestly do – to an extent)?

            I have the same problem with science. I used to love science, but even as my feelings changed I was able to achieve A’s in every science class I took. I realize that grades are not always indicators of who is smartest or best at a subject, but they at least show that I’m competent. So why is it that if you ask my roommate about my knowledge with science she would tell you that I’m a complete idiot?

            To be blunt: it’s all my fault. Yes, my lovely roommate can be a bit harsh, but she didn’t just assume I was stupid. I sometimes catch myself acting stupid and wonder how long I’ve been doing that. Do I just start acting stupid out of nowhere? Or am I constantly in a state of pretending? I don’t know the answer, but it is time to change. I’ve come up with two possible reasons why I act like I’m stupid (in hindsight, I’d hardly call these “reasons”, but here they are nonetheless):

            (1) I may have acted stupid in high school too, but it was never an issue because people knew I was smart. Although I was quiet and never shared my grades with anyone unless asked (which was rare because people rarely talked to me), it was fairly well-known among my classmates that I got A’s on almost everything. Because I was so shy and quiet, I rarely joked with anyone. So, I wouldn’t have pretended to be stupid because I simply didn’t talk much, and even if I did act stupid the people around me knew I wasn’t. Not to mention the fact that in high school the people I surrounded myself with were the AP and Honors kids, and we mostly took all of the same classes. So one person couldn’t claim that their classes were harder than another’s. In college, my best friend is a science major and therefore takes high level math and sciences class, whereas I take high level English classes. She doesn’t say so out loud (often), but I know she thinks her classes are harder (and I can’t say that she’s wrong in thinking that). So it’s easier for her to judge me. If I act stupid, she’s going to believe I’m stupid because she has no reason to believe otherwise.

            (2) People have told me that others are intimidated by someone who is smart and gets all A’s. I was so eager to make friends in college that I didn’t want to push people away by seeming too smart. So I put this wall up around me faults (real or imagined) because I felt it would make me more likeable. No one likes people who are (or think they are) perfect. Not that I am, or have ever thought that I am, perfect. My list of faults is long, and I will be the first to point out things that are wrong with myself. But for some reason I felt that I needed to downplay the one thing that I was actually confident about. I’m not great at science or math or history, but I am great at being a student. That is one thing that I know for sure. I can get an A in a subject that I’m not talented in, I can do well on tests without studying, I will stay up as late as I need to in order to finish an important assignment. Personally, I’ve never really liked people who were good at something without really trying. So I think that part of me felt guilty about being able to be an A student with less effort than others (not to say I didn’t work hard at it), and I wanted to downplay my academic achievements. I never share test grades unless someone asks, because I don’t want to be that girl bragging about getting 97% when the person next to me got 70% (or worse, that person who complains or criticizes themselves even though they did better than most of the people around them). And then there is always that advice in the back of my head: “boys don’t like smart girls”. I don’t know where I first heard this, and I’ve certainly never taken it to heart. But when all the evidence around you seems to support this statement, it’s hard to push it aside entirely. (Also, I would like to add, this wall I’ve put up around myself comes down a bit when I’m around my roommate, because she is the best friend I’ve ever had and sometimes you just don’t want to close yourself up. But when I do share my grades or my GPA with her I can tell she doesn’t particularly like it. Perhaps it’s because she thinks her classes are more difficult and she deserves my 3.95 GPA more than I do. Perhaps this is one reason why she, more than anyone else, remarks on my supposed inability to think scientifically. Because she knows my GPA and yet I still act stupid in some ways. I can see how that would be annoying: someone who is seemingly not-very-bright but is doing better academically than you. Although, I think we both know that an environmental science degree is more highly regarded than an English degree).

            I suppose it doesn’t really matter why I act stupid, and I’m not sure that either of the above stated “reasons” are reasons at all. Either way, reflecting on issues such as this often leads to clarity. What conclusion have I come to? No matter the reason I started acting stupid, no matter if I’m actually stupid or not, regardless of test scores or grades I know myself better than anyone and it is up to me to depict myself how I want to be seen. Old habits are hard to break, but the only solution is to stop acting like I’m incompetent in math and illogical about science. I deserve to be seen for who I am, and accepted for who I am, but first I need to see myself and accept myself as I am.

To Study Abroad or Not to Study Abroad: That is the Question (And an Unexpected Reflection on Friendship)

            Lately I’ve been researching opportunities to study abroad. After a lot of research I decided on a university in Scotland (it’s not for sure, I haven’t met with an advisor yet to see how it would work. But I think I’ve done enough research to know it’s a definite possibility). It seems perfect and like a totally new experience. But (there is always a “but” isn’t there?) I started wondering why I want to study abroad so bad.

            Sure, it’s a great opportunity that I may never have again. I’ve never been in an airplane, I haven’t seen much of the world outside of California –just Nevada, Baja California (Mexico), and Nebraska when I was really young–, the biggest risk I’ve ever taken was moving three hours away for college, and I want to experience something new. But in reality I’m rather shy (working on it!), meeting new people scares me, large groups send me into a panic, and the mere thought of being in a foreign country all by myself makes me nervous. So why do I want this so bad?

            I keep thinking of all the ways it could wrong: I might not make any friends, I might revert back to being even more shy, I might get sick, the country might break out into war, a volcano could explode, an earthquake could kill me… you see, I like to over think everything. But I also think of all the amazing things that could happen: I could make new friends, have a great time, learn about a culture and a country I know very little about, break free of my shyness, become more of the person I’ve always wanted to be… the list could probably go on forever (and if I go much further it will get as absurd as the previous list). Is it worth taking those risks in hopes of something great happening? And I guess the most likely scenario would be a mix of bad and good experiences.

            And this brings me back to what has been bothering me for a few weeks now: will the mix of good and bad I experience abroad be better than the mix of good and bad I would experience if I stayed here? Until recently I haven’t really been worried about what I would miss out on if I left for a semester, because honestly school hasn’t been going great. And I’m not talking so much about academics because I honestly love the college I’m at, but I’m referring to feeling like I don’t belong as much as I should. Last year I met my best friend Lexi, and she’s the closest friend I’ve had in years, but other than that I haven’t forged very many close relationships. Coming out of high school as a complete loner I thought it was the best thing in the world to finally have a close friend, and I’m still super happy to have Lexi, but I’m realizing that having one friend and a bunch of acquaintances still gets lonely. I don’t want to be miss popular or anything, but I would like to have a group of friends. So I figured, only having one close friend, if I left for a semester she would still be here when I get back and maybe I would make some friends abroad and not miss out on much while I’m gone.

            But things have changed since the beginning of the semester. I’ve gotten close to people I met last semester, and I would now call them my friends. I’m not great at making friends (in case you haven’t notice), and it takes me while to get close to people, but I think I’ve really made some new friends and it makes me really happy. I’m getting closer to my fellow English majors through English club, and I finally don’t feel like an outsider in my department. I sit with my friends during class and chat; it’s been a long time since I’ve had that. Now one of my new friends is co-creating a new professional fraternity on campus for language majors. I never thought in a million years I would be rushing and joining anything Greek. Granted, it is different because it is professional and not social, and it is brand new so we would be the first “pledge class” ever so all those weird initiation things aren’t really established yet (I’m still not exactly sure what any of this means because I’ve been vehemently avoiding anything to do with sororities since I started college). But I’m going to try to join it, I’m pretty sure I’ll get in, and then that will be one more thing to tie me to the campus and hopefully help me make more friends.

            The more friends I make and the more involved I am in campus clubs and activities the more hesitant I am to move halfway across the planet for a semester. There’s so much more I could be missing out on now that I feel like I truly belong. And I’m scared of losing my new friends, missing out on opportunities to establish more close relationships, and losing that feeling of belonging which I have for the first time since eighth grade. There’s also the issue of my best friend Lexi. I couldn’t imagine going to school for a semester here and having her away studying abroad. So I know she won’t like the idea of having me gone either. I haven’t noticed until recently because I was too concerned with myself, but she doesn’t have all that many more friends than me. She kept asking why I would ever want to study abroad, which I always answered with “who wouldn’t want to study abroad?” But maybe our friendship means as much to her as it does to me, which is a really hard concept for me to get my head around because I’ve always felt that my friendships up to this point have been more one-sided. I’ve always felt that I needed and wanted a friendship to work more than the other person, although I never managed to show this effectively as I’ve always managed to drift away from those friends who mattered most to me because I was always afraid they secretly didn’t want to be my friend. I now see that this probably wasn’t true, and I really wish I’d seen this when I was younger because life would have been so much easier with friends. But that’s what growing up it about: learning. This is just another lesson, and it took me way too long to finally get it, but I’m glad I finally feel like my friendship matters to others.

            Anyway, I didn’t exactly mean for this post to turn into a reflection on my past friendships and current ones, but that’s usually what happens when I write. I start in one place and end up in another, and I usually come to some realization along the way. One more reason why I love writing so much.

            Ok, back on topic. If I take this wonderful opportunity to study abroad and experience something totally new – an opportunity which I may never have again – I may risk my newfound sense of belonging by placing myself in a foreign country surrounded by new people, new opportunities, and old problems. Will I get more out of a semester in Scotland than I will out of a semester here with my new friends? I guess it’s impossible to know. But I don’t think I can pass up an opportunity like this. Even if studying abroad goes bad, at the very least I will learn more about the country and more about myself. And learning about myself is the best way of figuring out how to make myself more happy and more of who I want to be. So for now, I’m going to go ahead with my plan, it’s not set in stone and it could very possibly change, but I’m going to try very hard to find a way to study abroad. Maybe it won’t be Scotland, but I think it would be worth it to go anywhere that I am able to. Because no matter if my original motive for wanting to leave the country was to escape from my problems, the only motive I have for not leaving is fear. I’m going to take my chances because learning to take risks is a lesson I still need to learn.

Stars and Boys: A Short Story

            I used to think the stars were holes in the sky and every time I looked into one I was looking at some far off wonder that I couldn’t see. Now I know what starts are, but I guess the rest of that still applies. It’s weird how things like that work out some times.

            I was ten when I met Luke and I thought he was the coolest guy ever. He’d just moved in next door when I went to his house with my mom to drop off some cookies. I remember it better than almost anything else from my childhood. His mother opened the door and I could see him in the background sitting on a box reading a book that looked like it was too complex for a ten-year old. He was wearing a Star Wars shirt and the sun from the kitchen window fell on him and illuminated his strawberry blond hair. He looked up and his eyes met mine, he smiled and I looked at the ground.

            In the months that followed we would make imaginary forts in the forest and pretend we were bandits or super heroes or CEOs. We would run around the neighborhood catching butterflies and sit for hours watching ladybugs or squirrels. When we were thirteen we sat on his back porch one night and planned our lives. He would go to college and become a doctor and a lawyer and get married and have two kids and seven dogs. I would become a journalist and would be a private investigator in my spare time and would have four kids, a cat, an iguana, two dogs, and a secret fortress under my house. We laughed all night long, making our plans more and more elaborate, but no matter what we planned on we decided that we would be friends forever.

            Isn’t it always like that? You are close to someone and you think you will always be close to them. They will always be there for you and you for them. In the movies, this is always how it works.

            We grew up and Luke went off to college to study engineering and I left to study English. I haven’t spoken to him since we were sixteen. But I still think he’s the coolest guy ever.

The Case of the Missing Rommate

            Right now I should be writing an essay for my women’s history class. But instead I’m going to tell you about something that is currently making me nervous. First, let me say that I am a very nervous person. So this is by no means at the top of my freak-out list. It’s just something that has recently been brought to my attention and I think it is somewhat interesting.

            So, my roommate (and best friend) has been “out to lunch” for the last seven hours. When she left she was wearing more makeup than usual, a sun dress, and her high-heeled boots. Maybe this isn’t unusual for some girls, but this is definitely not what she wears on a typical day. So I’ve come to the conclusion that she either has a secret boyfriend, or will soon have a boyfriend (secret or otherwise).

            If this is the case, I’m very happy for her. Although, if she keeps it a secret from me I’ll be a bit offended. The thing that scares me a little is that is she can manage to eat lunch with him for seven hours, when will she spend any time with me!?! I know, I’m a bit selfish. But she’s my best friend and when I’m hanging out with someone it’s usually her. I have a few other semi-close friends, but to be brutally honest I would be a bit of a loner without her. I was a complete loner in high school; I do not want to relive that!

            Also, I must admit, I’ll be a bit jealous. My whole life I’ve been watching my friends (the few I had) go on dates or get boyfriends. And frankly I’m sick of watching! I want it to happen to me for once! But I really can’t complain about it this time because my roommate has been just as unfortunate as me in this department.

            In short, I really hope my roommate hasn’t been kidnapped and I hope that she’s just got a boyfriend instead. Also, I hope she doesn’t spend all of her time with him and leave me to be a lonely old maid.

Keep it to Yourself!

            Has anyone ever been talking to you and then they say something that begins with “I know I’m going to sound like a total bitch for saying this, but…” And after they say it you feel like it wasn’t that big of a deal, but then like an hour later you are thinking “What a bitch!”

            That’s where I am right now. I was talking to a friend about the fact that I was thinking about becoming a minor in pre-law and maybe pursuing a career as a lawyer. Well she gives me that line and says she thinks I wouldn’t make a good lawyer because I’m too empathetic. And then, because I really wanted to embarrass myself, I asked her what that meant (because I confuse empathetic with apathetic, which is hard to admit because I’m an English major!). Well, apparently she thinks I don’t care about anything. I just brushed this off at first, but now I’m sitting in my room and I’m a bit peeved. I don’t care about anything!?! That is one of the most absurd things I’ve ever heard!

            Honestly, it hurts my feelings that she would even think that. I’ve only known her for a year, but I think that should be long enough to know that there are actually a lot of things that I am very passionate about. Although, as I learned from watching Legally Blonde, some philosopher (Aristotle?) said something like “law is reason free from passion”. There are many things that I care about, but I think that it is important to see all sides of an argument. Sometimes this may result in me seeming wishy-washy, but I don’t think of that as a bad thing. When you are too passionate about something you may have a hard time looking at all of the evidence objectively.

            Anyway, I still don’t know what I want to pursue (other than writing of course!) and I don’t know if law is something that I really want to spend my time on. But I think I learned something tonight, no one will ever know me as well as I know myself. And to be perfectly honest, I’m not trying to brag, but I think I would make a good lawyer. The reason I’m on the fence about it is that I only want to do it if I know that’s what I want to spend my life doing, and I can’t make that decision right now. But next time someone tells me that what they are about to say is going to sound bitchy I might just tell them to keep it to themselves!

Sophomore Year So Far

            This semester is already killing me and it’s only about 1/3 of the way done. Thank goodness this is the last time I ever have to take a history or math class. Last year when I was just about to start college I expected it to be really hard; about as hard it is now. But I guess it doesn’t really start off that hard. I worked hard and got all A’s, but it wasn’t like I expected. So I think I kind of let my guard down this year. That was a mistake. I’ve been overwhelmed since week one.

            I feel like one of the few things I’m truly good at is being a student, so I’m handling it pretty well. But I wish that I hadn’t assumed that this year would be like last year. And I wish I hadn’t assumed that GE’s are easier than other classes. It is a lot easier to study for a class that you find interesting. So it doesn’t matter that I am taking a lower level math class because I just can’t be bothered. I expected history to be fine, but it’s actually my least favorite class of my college experience. I will willingly stay up till 3am finishing English homework but I won’t go past 1am for history, and that’s pushing it.

            There are two other factors making this semester my hardest so far. One would be my roommate. I’m rooming with my best friend that I met last year and it’s great… for the most part. I’ve discovered that sometimes it’s easier living with someone you barely know. And sometimes I feel like I’ve told her too much, mostly about my family. Plus, there isn’t that need to be really polite and to try not to step on the others toes. I’m still peeved that her desk is halfway on my side of the room and she’s hogging the bookshelf. And it bugs her that I let my homework stack up and then I panic about it the night before it’s due. The thing is, that’s totally normal for me and it’s going to happen every single week. I’m used to it, my family is used to it, but she’s always going to think that I’m just being stupid by procrastinating. And maybe I am, but that’s just how I function. Despite all of that, we actually get along really well. I know I just complained about her for a paragraph (and I could go on), but we have a lot of fun together too. This is also a problem, because we talk way too much at night. Which is fine for her because she does her homework in the day, but I do mine at night.

            The other thing that makes this semester harder is the fact that I’ve gotten really involved. I’m not complaining about this. I’ve always wanted to be the really involved person who is in all the clubs. I’ve been in the pep band since last year, and I’m in this honors society for sophomores (which I am kinda regretting because it’s kind of pointless other than resume filler). Then I joined the Rotaract club which is a community service group, and I joined the English club which will do fun English-y stuff. I’m supper excited about these two groups and I think they are going to be a great way for me to make new friends (cause I’m spending a bit too much time with my roomie) and get out a bit more. But I have to ask: why is EVERYTHING always happen on Thursdays! I think it’s a conspiracy.

            Anyway, I’m having a great year. And I’m super excited for next semester when I get to take more English classes and less of everything else. And hopefully I won’t kill my roommate and suffocate on homework in the meantime! Just kidding! But seriously…

Attraction

            The other day a friend of mine brought something to my attention that I had never before realized: I think too much. Now, I don’t really think this is a bad thing. I enjoy questioning everything, and I like the fact that my brain seems to be in good working order. But, it does get in the way sometimes. Like when I’m trying to sleep and I can’t stop thinking about why certain people believe the things they do, or when I’m contemplating why the sky is blue. And I’m not talking about what makes the sky look the way it does, but I’m talking about who decided to call that color blue. And who decided where blue ends and green starts. And who decided that those things should be called colors, and how the hell did they come up with the idea of paint!? You see, it gets very complicated in my brain.

            So, one thing I’ve been way over thinking this week is attraction. Why am I attracted to different guys than my roommate? We are both relatively shy, have similar political views and morals. Yet I’m attracted to red-heads, guys who wear glasses, curly hair, guys who do well in school and make a solid effort (my list goes on and on). My roommate on the other hand likes the tall dark handsome type. Who doesn’t? But I look at the guys she likes and I think they are really attractive, but I’m not attracted to them. My roommate, however, doesn’t see anything in the guys I like.

            One example of how our taste in men varies is age. You’d think two 19-year-old girls would have about the same standard for guys, but we shockingly don’t. My friend (we’ll call her Monica) says she would date a guy as long as he was ten years younger than her dad… that would be about 40 years old. I almost choked on my soda when she said that. 40!!!! Forty years old! We are only 19, and she would date someone more than twice her age? This seems absolutely absurd to me. My roommate wasn’t nearly as shocked as me, and she professed that she would date a thirty year old. Again, to me this sounds ludicrous. Thirty is old, no offense to anyone. Is it so much to ask that I find a guy who is within four years of my age? That sounds very reasonable to me (although, it’s not exactly true. I would date a guy four years older than me, but only two years younger than me). And honestly, why would a thirty year old guy want to date a 19-year-old girl. I understand the whole thing about guys being pigs who just want to get into whichever pants belong to the hottest girl (ok, that’s stereotypical, but you know what I mean). But there is a difference between just getting with someone and actually being in a relationship. I have a thirty year old brother, so I know that they aren’t always as mature as you’d expect, but they have a certain maturity that most nineteen year old girls don’t have. I mean, I’m a really responsible and grounded person, but I’m very immature. To be fair, I haven’t polled any single thirty year old guys, so I’m not saying that they want to be with a 19-year-old girl. And none of my friends have gone out with guys more than a few years older than them. In fact, neither I nor my roommate have gone out with any guy…ever. Maybe my friends are just keeping all of their options open. They said that you never know who you are going to fall in love with. But please, if I fall in love with someone who is ten years older than me, please slap me.

            I’m done ranting about age. But I did have one more interesting observation to make. There is a perfectly good-looking guy in my geology class. I was looking at him on the first day of class. I assessed that he was technically cute but I wasn’t at all attracted to him. He looked a bit like the surfer type, his stance and his tan. So, I figured he was good looking but not my type at all. The next class I found out he was Brazilian, he’s here for the semester or maybe all four years, I’m not sure. The strange thing is that he instantly seemed more attractive. And day by day he is looking more attractive to me. I know, he still looks like the surfer type that I never fall for, but something about him is alluring. I think it is because he’s foreign, and part of me hopes that foreign boys aren’t like the guys here. Maybe they don’t like their girls five foot nine and size two, maybe they like short curvy girls who think too much and don’t talk enough. Unfortunately for me I don’t think I’m going to find that anywhere.

            Maybe girls all have different taste in guys. But in the end, whether they are old or young, nerdy or hot, United-Statesian or Brazilian, maybe all guys are really the same.