It Will Make Sense Along the Way

I've been stressing out lately, and asking myself all of these questions that I can't answer.
I have the tendency to do that, freak out about everything.

My friends like to tell me that I need to calm down.

The funny thing is,  a lot of the things I stress out about are things I don't really need to be thinking about yet.

Like how I'm going to pay for law school when I haven't gone to college yet.

And it's kind of weird, because I used to to be a person that always wanted to do everything and anything.

I never really had one dream job, but a million of them.

I wanted to be a writer who studied government, acted in shows on my own time, and taught Spanish on weeknights just because.

And now I've realized, I'm still the same way. I guess I just thought that I had to have everything figured out.

But I don't.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not just wait and see, everything will work out in the end. I'm usually naturally a little stressed out, remember?

But I've forgotten all the things that I want to be when I grow up. I've forgotten that I don't have to choose one thing, one university, one law school. I can figure it out as I go.

Someone once told me that one-track planning is poor planning. I'm thinking about making that into a sign for my wall in my room, so every time I start freaking about the price of law school, or what specific type of psychology I want to study in college, I'll take a second to breathe and just wait to  figure it out naturally.

But that doesn't mean I don't still want to be Governor of New York. A girl can dream, right?

Back to myself

You ever feel like you lose sight of yourself of what you really want in the midst of living life? Like you become so preoccupied with updating your status on Facebook, or  analyzing the thirty second conversation you had with the person you're interested in, or even how much of a an unnecessary game high school seems to be at times, that you forget what makes you who are, or the dreams you once had?

I haven't written in almost two months, and that should be a sin. I haven't played guitar in longer, and that feels even worse.

I miss doing things that make me remember what makes me who I am. I miss keeping a journal, and writing impromptu songs when a melody would pop into my head. 

And maybe I'm feeling this because I'm about to leave home for college soon. Maybe it's because I recently completely changed my career to politician after months of searching and self discovery. I don't really know.

All I know is, there are so many things that I need to do. 

I need to start writing again. I need to get off Facebook. I need to take out my guitar and learn some more Green Day and Nirvana songs. I need to listen to more Janis Joplin and watch more PBS news.

It feels good to write again. It's as if I've found something that I lost in my life. 

Giving Thanks

There are so many things to be thankful for in life, and not just on Thanksgiving, but it's hard to forget. so I decided to it down, and really think about all the things I had to be thankful for, and as I love to do, make a list of it. This really has become a tradition.

I am thankful for:

1. My parent's support while I stress over my last year in high school and college
2. My dad allowing me to record epic shows such as Switched at Birth and The Vampire Diaries when I can't watch them on the weekdays.
3. An amazing mentor who believes I can get into my dream school even when I don't.
4. An english teacher who sees me as a leader inside and outside the classroom as she opens my eyes to what a college English and philosophy will look like.
5. A teacher's assistant who has helped what used to be my broken spanish evolve into  something, who motivated me to swallow my fear and take AP Spanish this year, who has inspired to dream of learning and teaching spanish in the future.
6. A little sister who I can call nicknames like squishy head, and count on to annoy me to the point of insanity, but only because she cares
7. A family who will take me in during a time of crisis and make me feel as if their home is the closest to a second home I'll ever get
8.  My dad getting me Maroon 5 tickets for my birthday. Bless his soul.
9. For all the nights my mother and I have sat together and watched romantic classics together, something that has become a beautiful tradition.
10. For two best friends who know me better than I myself, and have shown me how supportive and genuine true friends can be.
11. For a year of inspiring classes that have helped me become obsessed with topics like politics and philosophy.
12. For certain underclassman that never cease to amaze me.
13. For peers who have surprised me this year by becoming people I can not only count on, but also people who have made me smile and laugh when I'm on h verge of tears.
14. For artists like Cher Lloyd, The Yeah Yeah Yeahs, and Green  Day, whose songs I've had on repeat
15. For parents who wish more for me than they had, and do everything in their power to give that to me.

Full of maybes

My college list is broken up into two categories; colleges I can see myself at, and colleges that are actually feasible. It's sad, really, thinking about the fact that my dream school may just be that, a dream. 

And as I finish my college applications, I have this recurring dream, or more specifically, nightmare, where I await college acceptances that never come. 

As morbid as that sounds, I'm sure I'm not the only senior whose had this feeling.

But for the first time, I found a school that didn't fit either of these categories.

For the first time, I see myself at a school, but not only in my dreams, in the future.

And maybe it's a women's school.

Maybe I didn't know about it until the school gave me a merit scholarship.

All I know is, after having an hour long conversation with a freshman at Bay Path College it  just replaced Syracuse University as my number one school. 

Because I love Syracuse university. Hell, I'd sell my soul to go there, if I had the chance.

But it's my dream school. That school that I'd go to if I didn't have to think about anything.

But the reality is, I have a lot to think about. I have to think about how my parents are going to cosign on my loans, parents who want to move out of the projects of Far Rockaway About how I have a litle sister who needs to go to college as well.

And maybe I have it all wrong. Maybe I'll finally get to wear that Syracuse  sweater I stole from my ex-boyfriend on its campus next fall. Maybe a letter from Posse got lost in the mail, and I'm actually a finalist. Maybe University of Pennsylvania's need based financial aid isn't actually a myth and my acceptance letter will  be accompanied with an immense of money that I won't be able to refuse. Maybe I'm the future mayor of New York who is a professor of political science on the weekends. Maybe I'll come back to Uncommon to teach Spanish.

And maybe I'll go to Bay Path College.

Realization Strikes

It's easy to think that my world is the only one that exists,  and forget how fast it can expand.

And as my world has been becoming more and more real with the anticipation of college, I can feel it expanding, as I meet new people and start to truly understand that I will no longer be in high school in a few months. 

I've been waiting for this realization for what seems like forever, but honestly, my initial reaction seems to be wrong, because what was supposed to be excitement and composure has actually turned out to be intimidation.

I'm a person who likes to be prepared for things, at least know a general outline of what to expect, but my life doesn't seem to be going in a general and expected outline.

I expected to get into Syracuse University and go to Newhouse, but now the excitement of that  acceptance letter is diminishing along with my dream of working for the New York Times, and  my intended major of journalism has been replaced with a major in psychology and minor in Spanish.
 And getting to the realization that there are other places to go than Syracuse, and that I may no longer want to be a journalist was not an easy one.

But isn't that what life is about? Changing your mind as your world expands, and as you continue to challenge yourself in every way possible? Isn't it about continuing to grow as a person, even if it's immensely exhausting?
I find myself realizing that I am no longer a child,  because I'm growing up at an exponential rate right before my eyes, as I prepare for my Posse interview, as I take a college class, as I yearn for stimulating conversations that don't end in me getting asked out in a text message, or playing another game of 21 questions, as I realize that I can now partake in adult conversations I was initially shunned from.

And it seems as if throughout all of this, my written words are the one point of clarity, the one thing that ensures I can stop my world from spinning nauseatingly as I grow up.   

Side Tracked

I like to believe that true love exists, as I watch my parents still hold hands and catch each other off guard with the words, "I love you", at the simplest of moments.

But it seems as if there's this uncanny need for people to someone they want something from the exact thing they want to hear, which makes love seem completely extinct as it becomes an entire exchange on Facebook or text messages.

I just want someone to challenge me, emotionally, socially, mentally, someone who will provide me with a mutual respect and not throw the word love around like it doesn't mean anything, someone who will tell me how they feel when things get rough, instead of turning to my best friend for "emotional support" I'm apparently not providing.

I don't want someone to try and rationalize why we should be friends with benefits. 

And I'm tired of this conversation:

Hey.

Hey.

Wyd?

Homework.

Y?

Cuz I have a lot.

Wow, ok sure.

What?

Nun.

Smh.

Y?

Because. 

(20 minutes later):Well anyways babe we should go out.

The lack of substance in that conversation isn't the only thing that bores me, it's the fact that I'm getting asked out by the end. Am I supposed to feel flattered by that last text message? because I'm pretty sure the rest of the conversation put me to sleep.

And when did I become your babe?

What about talking about politics, or your views on religion? Or  an honest conversation about how what your aspirations are, your biggest fears and insecurities?

So no, I don't want to play 21 questions, in which every question is a variation of whether I'd date you, or how much I like you.

I want to be challenged to think differently, to think deeply about things like whether I'm Catholic because I was born into it, or whether  my love for writing defines me.

So why do continue to get side tracked by the people who call me babe and play 21 questions to see how I feel about them before they ask me out in a text message?

Conquering Fear

I often wonder how people conquer their fears, how they are able to do things they know they can do, but are intimidated by.
I started this year ruminating that, and telling myself that this year  will only be an extension of the last few months of junior year, when I finally realized that college was real, and started working up to my full potential.
And now here I am, in the beginning of my last year of high school, and I'm wondering about people conquering fear.
Because I have a fear.
It's more of intimidation, but nevertheless, it's something I know I have to overcome.
And that intimidation is the rigor of AP Spanish.
(It feels better getting that off my chest.)
Now I knew it was going to be difficult.
But now that I'm here, taking the class, I feel myself asking why did I take this class?
I would have so much less stress if my last period was study hall.
But as I think about this, I go back the initial question:
 How do people conquer fear?
By confronting it.
I know I can do well in this class. I just have to believe  it. I have to speak more spanish at home. I have to annotate the back of spanish books sometimes. I have to watch the news in spanish, and sometimes switch my indie rock playlist for some salsa while I do my homework. And lastly, I have to stop being deathly terrified of messing up my conjugations when I speak spanish in class.

I know I can do well in this class, because of people like Mr. Baker and Ms. Leach who have told me so, and because I refuse to do any less than I am capable of.

So this is me, pledging to swallow the intimidation I feel and accept the challenge. Who knows, maybe I'll trade in my old dreams of becoming a famous journalist and teach spanish instead.


*by the way, if you're interested in reading about a day in the life of a saber in spanish, feel free to check out my new blog:http://thisurlshouldbeinspanish.blogspot.com/
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