Time Stops for No One.

So decided to go back and read a lot of the old posts on this today. And then it hit me. I had just turned 19 when we started this thing. And now...I'm 22. Awk. When did I get so old? I know, I know. 22 is not old. And I'm gonna read this 10 years from now and feel even more awk. Because then I'll REALLY be old. But really, when I read a post about the summer after FRESHMAN year when me and my elements got together to have an adult-like lunch, and then I think about my life now, I just-- weird feelings. Can't explain it. 

So what's going on right now you ask?

We're at the last semester of our college career. It's crazy. We're all looking forward. We're excited, we're nervous, and we're getting there. Quick recap on what's been going on:

• My boyfriend GRADUATED in December and is WORKING for IBM. Kid's TRAVELLING on his own and being all independent and adult-like, earning MONEY and whatnot.
• Liquid got into LAW school. She's still waiting to hear back from a few places, but DAMN. She got into LAW school!
• Swift just got the big news today, she's going to be spending the next YEAR in SOUTH AFRICA (wrestling TIGERS!) ((jk)) Like a YEAR. In another COUNTRY. 
• Heat just gave her MCATs!
• And I'm applying to jobs in Digital Marketing! Going on Tours and stuff for a really big-girl's job. 
• We've suddenly turned into senioritis-struck slackers who party too late and then end up skipping class. 

On top of that, my parents are considering moving, and are taking into account things like me getting MARRIED in the near future. 

It's bizarre. Surreal. SO DAMN COOL. But at the same time it's like WTH when did this happen?!

It's incredible to go back and read all these posts, because it reminds me of how far we've come. Sure, I don't want college to end. But we've just been through so much, you know? It's time to move on.

I'm making it a goal to update more this semester. And this year really. We've come a long way and we're got to live it up as much as we can these last few months.

##Dirt##

I have no energy to come up with a title for this.

College is coming to an end (even though I still have one semester to go.  What can I say?  I love this place so much) and I feel like this:

I can only describe this last year as tumultuous.  It's been characterized by impulsive decisions which have opened doors and given me perspective that I wouldn't have gained otherwise.  I made the decision to study abroad during the week of the registration deadline.  I have no idea why I'm doing research in a mechanical engineering lab when I love engineering about as much as a fat kid likes dieting.  I signed up for my MCAT date purely on a whim.  And it would seem that whatever happens to me after college is following in this vein- for the first time, when I look into my future, I have no idea what's going to happen.  It's slightly terrifying.

It was different before college- I was obviously going somewhere.  Coming from a family where the idea of not earning your Master's is an inconceivable anathema, there was no question there.  But I have no idea if I'm going to get into med school or not.  If I don't, I don't think I actually know what I'm going to do after graduate school.  One of the principal ingredients of my life, as anybody who knows anything about me can attest to, is passion.  What if I can't find something I'm truly passionate about and gifted enough to succeed in, if the avenue of medical school is closed to me?  What if I'm not good enough to get into a medical school anywhere?   Honestly, if I had a boggart, it would look something like this:

I don't want to end up settling for something in life, or depending on the possibility that I'll learn to love my career or that I'll learn to be good at it.  Liquid and I were talking about it and she sees it as a crossroads, as an exciting time when life has the potential to go in whatever direction you want.  I'm trying not to see it this way, but I feel like this is the time when I can be made or broken, and all the elements defining the outcome aren't even in my control.

But the most important thing I've learned in my senior year is that this is why there is faith.  There's always been a method to the madness, and even though things that I didn't want to happen have happened, there's always been a reason for it.  Humans are resilient- life goes on and we get over things fast.  I guess all there is to do is trust that even if I do my best and I don't get what I want, I'm meant to do something else and that my life won't actually flush itself down the crapper.

Hooray for perspective!

~*Heat*~

I'm so out of it I can't even remember the name of this blog...

I admit it shamelessly.  I am a lightweight(featherweight, let's be honest).  I am 5'0.5 (I like to round up) and 110 pounds.  Anyone well-versed in the effects of alcohol can imagine that I can only handle a much smaller amount of alcohol than other people can (ironic, because I can't admit this when I'm sober).  So while my other roommates are...well, hanging out with their boyfriends and not blogging at 5:40 am, I am- while listening to the entire Strange Clouds album by B.o.B, no less.  See, I can advertise even while I am- what comes between drunk and tipsy?  Actually, maybe I'm just drunk- the first step to fixing a problem is admitting you have a problem. I am in bed and my head still spins every time I try to pull my laptop closer to me (sign one that I shouldn't be blogging at 5:42 am- also, sign one that I shouldn't be using a laptop and that my sorry ass should just be in bed.)

Also I use too many fucking parentheses.  Even when I'm sober.

ANYhoo, after lots of thinking, I am not ashamed to admit (damn this is a night of confessions GOD DAMN TOO MANY PARENTHESES HEAT STOP)  that I have a checklist as to what a man I get involved with should have.  Apparently I do my blog posts in checklists when I'm drunk.  I love to write otherwise why would I be doing this?  But I'm apparently too lazy to write in complete sentences.  All-righty then.

1) The man cannot have less balls than I do.  This is self-explanatory.  If I don't like something, people know.  If I don't like someone, they know.  And I don't see that as a bad thing- it weeds out the people I can't handle in my life.  This is an insight into my previous past, in which I bashed stupid people and proceeded to explain that I can't have stupid people in my life lest my brain explodes and I cannot provide our six WONDERFUL readers with their- what comes after monthly?- entertainment.  Seriously, if I can stand up to people and the guy can't, and if I'm dealing with people while he hides in the corner and tries to cook chicken, it is over.  With a capital O.

2) The boy's gotta know sports.  Seriously, if the guy knows about any LEGITIMATE sport (this doesn't include curling or ice dancing, guys), I'm happy.  Although I won't lie- you know about football?  And you're a Patriots fan?  Please marry me.  Right about now.

3) He should like to travel.  I'm not a travel bug by any means.  Whenever I go to India (which is as far from the United States as it gets, in my opinion), I can't handle it.  I start getting all patriotic and shit in my head,  It's weird.  But for real though, that doesn't mean I'm a complete recluse, and he'd better be up for going somewhere like- I dunno, France?  Egypt?  Anywhere on the damn globe besides the United States, Hyderabad and Bangalore?- and I'll be happy.

4) He has to have a sense of humor.  I don't know if you noticed, but- how to put this delicately??- I'm not all there.  If you're looking for a not-crazy, regular, won't-tell-you-what-she-thinks-never-mind-if-it's-embarassing, don't come here.

5) He's got to look good in a suit.  Not that that's hard.  All men- and I MEAN all men- look like slammin' hotties in a suit.

6) Please try to show me you actually like me.  If I'm not a priority, you go ahead and make a case for why I should give two fucks about you.

7) For God's sake, think for yourself.  You really think we're impressed when you try to hunt for bitches after years of dating us, just because of a bunch of guys who couldn't get it up even if they had the opportunity to?  And also, you really think we're impressed when we reaffirm that you can't get with any one of these bitches no matter how hard you try?

8) He has to be able to get multiple genres of music.  Who says you have to like JBiebs and The Wanted? (Siva from The Wanted is my husband btw).  I literally listen to freaking everything- Taking Back Sunday, AC/DC, System of a Down, B.o.B, J. Cole.  If you can carry on a conversation about any artist (except maybe NSync), we're okay.

9) He has to be honest.  I love a guy who doesn't mind telling you what he's thinking straight up (although don't get me wrong, he can't tell me if he thinks I'm fat.)

10) He should be able to have fun with my friends and me (see, grammatical even when I'm drunk.  That's right.)  Get drunk with my friends.  Go to a concert with me.  Indulge me and climb to the top of the W with me.  Just get to know my friends and talk to them.  It's not that hard, even when you're sober.  I'm sure you can manage.

Alcohol's starting to wear off.  Also listened to Strange Clouds too many damn times.  Also I have 2.5 hrs to go until my next class.  Clearly I'm the mistress of bad decisions.

Now you're just somebody I used to know.

Ever since August, I have been burning bridges and weeding people out of my life, culminating in a breakup of a relationship that lasted almost three years.  These past two semesters have given me time to reflect in who I am, realize who was important, and most crucially, eliminate those who couldn't be bothered about me.  These months have undoubtedly been difficult and have taken a toll on me, not only in terms of a purging of my social circle but in terms of my perception of myself.  I feel like I've been somewhat capricious in my choice of friendships, swinging wildly from one end of the personality spectrum to the other.  But more alarmingly, I, the girl who has always known exactly what she's wanted and where she wants to end up, don't have the first clue when it comes to relationships and reading people.  It was a bit of a shock, and the idea of listening to what other people have to say about the kind of people I choose to get involved with grated on several nerves.

After all of this, I can reaffirm one thing about myself.  I am a very all-or-nothing person.  Whether other people realize it or not, I put so much into all of my relationships that when they end, it's neither clean nor pretty.  About 80% of the time, I feel like I take the ending of the relationship harder than the other person does.  But regardless of how many experiences I have like this, I don't think it's something I can or am willing to change about me.  My passion for things makes me who I am and I have no intention of giving it up, even if it may leave me vulnerable.


Conversely, I know that there's stuff about my personality that I have to change, insecurities I need to surmount and flaws that I need to fix.  It seemed like it would be such an arduous effort, but I feel like I'm not the same person I was a mere three months ago.  My life in January seems so far-removed from everything I hold dear now, and the people in my life then certainly have no place in it now.  A boy I couldn't imagine not being with is nothing to me now, and my friends have proven to be even more invaluable than I dreamed before.  Constancy is a goal I am not meant to reach right now, even in terms of my own personality.  While I would have quailed at the thought of such change three months ago, I have the humility to accept it now.  


At first glance, it would seem as if this semester was marked by vicissitude and senseless turmoil.  People told me that they were sorry that I "had to be sad."  I didn't understand why every form of conflict and loss imaginable was being piled on me all at once, and I thought it was ridiculously unfair.  But looking back, I have no regrets, and it would seem that there was a method to the madness.  I am happier and more confident now than I've been in a long time.  I'm stronger and I had the sense to learn how to read people better from my breakup.  Nothing is constant.  Everyone changes, and the two of us were no exception.  He warped into someone who wasn't right for me, and now he's just somebody I used to know. 


And so am I.   


~*Heat*~

someone hire me PLEASE!

Every so often, a college student reaches this stage in his or her life where he or she sees the world moving around him or her and realizes, he or she is standing still, and wonders what the hell he or she is doing in life. I reached such a stage in my life this week. The summer is fast approaching (and by fast, I mean in like...less than 2 weeks...) and the closer it draws, the more people seem to fall in love with the question "What are YOU doing this summer?" I've been asked this question about a hundred times in the past week and here's the answer I wanted to yell obnoxiously to the next person that asks me: "I have NO FUCKING IDEA what I'm doing this summer!"


Of course I don't actually yell this, because that would be unbecoming, but I really have been tempted the past 50 times or so. While I am reveling in my personal crisis, all the people I love are moving on with their lives around me. They actually have a clue of what their summers are looking like. My fellow elements are all engaging in adventures this summer--Swift and Heat are travelling to Spain and Portugal this summer on what sounds like is going to be on HELLUVA escapade. Liquid is working for MTV in NEW YORK. My own dear boyfriend will be in New York as well working for JP Morgan with a few friends of his. And what am I doing?


Uhhhh...


Well. From the time school ends until my brother's graduation (HOLY mother of God Ican'tbelievehe'sgraduating!) I will be chilling at home doing a whole lot of LSAT prep, working out, and relaxing, with the occasional hanging out with friends. It's about 20 days of having nothing to do and I don't really mind. I'm actually quite excited about that. And then I'm off to the motherland, mera Bharat Mahan, for a grand total of...like 3 weeks. I think we'll be stopping in Paris on the way there so that's alright. Although touring exciting places with my family is like trying to strangle yourself--it just doesn't work. But all that is still Hunky Dory...until I come back.


This is where the fun starts. I'm back. It's the end of June. and I have NOTHING to do. Now, I'm not the kid of person that gets bored. Really, I'm not. But when EVERYONE you know is off gallivanting on some exciting adventure, you do start to wonder what the hell you're doing sitting at home. All I want is a job. Something to take my mind off of the ample amount of excitement I could be having and the ample amount of nothingness that I'm actually doing.


So. The point of this rant? Someone hire me PLEASE!!! Save me from wasting away my life this summer. Give me meaning! Give me PURPOSE!


K. I'm done.

##Dirt##

Escape.

I am finished.  I'm sick and tired of this place.  And not even because of the work.  I'm almost enjoying drowning myself in organic chemistry right now (obviously not enough to resist the temptation to take a break and blog instead), because it's distracting me from another pressing problem at hand.


I'm sick and tired of the people here.  I'm tired of being with the same people all the fucking time and having them know me inside and out (or thinking they know me inside and out.)  I'm sick and tired of angry outbursts.  I'm sick of frustration.  I'm tired of relationships with people literally changing overnight, and I don't want the emotional roller coaster that comes with this anymore.


What I want, more than anything, is just to be left alone.  Lately things have just been simpler if I'm by myself.  No frustration, no having to worry about anyone else's feelings, no feeling like I'm walking on eggshells around people, and more importantly, no feeling hurt about relationships that change.  No being upset about not feeling as close to people anymore.


All I want right now is to take off on a solo trip and just go somewhere halfway around the world ALONE.  With no strings attached, no having to worry or care about or even bother keeping in touch with anyone except my parents.  I want to drink myself to drowning and get high and enjoy a few blissful hours of oblivion, with someone else taking care of me for a change.  I want to be Imperiused and have my memory wiped clean.  I want to be an island and detach myself and just not care about people.  No having to worry about anything that's going on with anyone or people judging me or just feeling like some of my most important relationships just aren't the same anymore.  I want to be someplace where freaking no one knows me.  A blank slate with no limitations and no preconceived notions about what I'm like.  No history which gives people a basis on which to judge me.  I don't want to give a flying fuck about anyone except myself right now, because when you do bother to give a fuck about people and when you let them in, they will judge you and they will leave you, and it's just not worth letting your guard down.  And the best part about being alone and keeping your expectations low?  You don't have to give a fuck about anyone, no one's obligated to give a fuck about you, and in the end, it's just you and your own brains and your own feelings, and it's impossible to get hurt.

Gracie Lou Freebush In The House

So it's not exactly a well-kept secret that I'm not the most feminine girl in the world.  On top of that, I would hardly call myself graceful.  I get dizzy with vertigo when I walk in stilettos (or at least, that's the kindest explanation for why I cannot stay on my feet for more than a minute after I wear them).  I am basically Gracie Hart, Jr.  Not to be mean to myself or anything, but there it is.


Except that I own dresses and I DO own a brush.


But the reason I'm mentioning all of this is because that's changed ever since I came to college.  Gone Less common are the days when I pulled on a sweatshirt and jeans and left the apartment and walked around looking like I'd just rolled out of bed.  Especially after landing my TA job, I've found myself paying a lot more attention to my appearance and deciding that what the hell- if it's going to be a trying day anyway, I might as well charge through it with some style.


Sweatpants are being replaced with skinny jeans.  My sneakers are vying with boots and flats for my attention.  Even though I never thought I'd see the day I started bringing more lace into my wardrobe, apparently that day has dawned with a glorious sunrise.  


And while we're on the topic of things I never thought I would do in my lifetime- I modeled a dress.  Of my own volition.  And loved every minute of it (except the parts where I was scared shitless I'd fall on my face and humiliate myself, but all the rest).         


The Red Dress Fashion Show is an event organized by the Women's Awareness Month Committee every year to raise awareness about women's heart health.  (Heart disease is the number one killer of women in the United States.  I didn't know that.  I thought it was breast cancer.)  The committee was looking for women to volunteer to model.  Feeling very out of my element but deciding to give it a try, especially because heart disease is a big problem for women in my family, I decided to sign up.  It wasn't intimidating at all, I got to meet some really nice girls, and what's more, I had fun.  From the first rehearsal to practicing with my roommates the night before to the last-minute dash to do my makeup and look good to actually getting out on the catwalk and strutting my stuff, I had SO much fun.  And it was eye-opening because I would never have expected to be able to pull it off.


Don't get me wrong, I'm still a Gracie.  I work the punching bag and yell obnoxiously at the TV when I'm watching sports, and I still have jeans-sweatshirt-hair-up-in-ponytail-because-I-didn't-brush-it days, but I've gotten out of that mindset that the uniform of a college student who works her ass off and doesn't sleep some nights is bleary eyes and baggy clothes.  You can either drag yourself through your mornings, or you can take them on with flair.  It takes some determination to manage to look good even if you're looking at the world through three-hours-of-sleep-last-night glasses, but it makes you feel much better.  Plus it turns heads.  And I always find that I feel much more confident and energetic and I can take on whatever this godforsaken college has to throw at me.


Mission accomplished.    


~*Heat*~