How to be a Second Semester Senior

Have a quarter life crisis: question what you've done, what you're doing, and where you'll be in three months. Even if you have a job, have a paranoid fear that your contract might be rescinded at any point in time. Even if you've been admitted to grad school, have doubts about the immense amount of debt you're about to perpetuate.

Regret everything. That freshman year hookup. That guy you never talked to across a crowded room. Playing too hard to get. Not playing the game. Last night. Not spending enough time on academics. Not studying finance, medicine, or engineering. Not spending enough time with friends. How much time you wasted on tv shows, video games, and being hungover.

Have an overly inflated idea about where you'll be in five years. Because five years from now you'll have it all figured out. A career, a boyfriend, and the perfect apartment. Forget that you have no idea what you actually want to do with your life. Ignore the absurd housing prices in NYC. Avoid the fact that you'll be paying off student loans for the next five years (gotya bitch). 

For some reason you cling onto advice more violently than ever before. Conversations that used to be about your latest crush or that date from last week seem insignificant to life discussions about career, family, and the overwhelming loom that is the future.

Secretly compare yourself to everyone. They seem to have it all figured out. Their lives sound beautiful, exciting, perfect.

Reach out, to everyone you might have wronged or hurt. People might ask if you're in a rehab program. Eight step program? Twelve steps? Alcohol's Anonymous? Actually, that might be a good idea. Insist that you're genuine, and have been meaning to apologize forever.

Stop. And appreciate everything. Yolo, right? That annoying kid in your chem engineering class who you never got along with? Suddenly you're in a forgiving mood despite the fact that he never pulled his weight in a project. Give your best friend from sophomore year a second chance. That ridiculously monotone Econ professor? Looking back, her demeanor was almost endearing despite the fish glazed eyes in the room.

Pay attention in class. Suddenly it seems that college has always been the place to fulfill your intellectual curiosity about all subjects. That random photog class you're in now, the scuba diving class everyone is raving about, and the ballroom dance class you couldn't fit into your schedule suddenly seem so appealing. Why couldn't you stay in school longer? Ignore the fact that you've skipped classes all the time, that you've hated certain professors, dreaded group projects, and how you've spent the last four years constantly worried  more about your weekend plans than your future plans for all of college.

Ignore your parents. As they start to pester you about next year, reply nonchalantly that they shouldn't worry. That you're not too concerned. Secretly panic as their anxiety rubs off on you.

When people ask about what you're doing next year, have five different answers ready. Preparing for the GRE/MCAT/LSAT/GMAT, looking for a job near home and living with your parents to save money, traveling to the middle of no where Turkmenistan, or working as a slave for some unknown nonprofit for a year before grad school. Those all seem like solid plans. You're breaking into a nervous sweat? Oh, don't worry -- that's just your excitement about leaving college. (psych)

Pretend you care. Talk to everyone, including familiar strangers. It's your last chance to get to know people you never bothered even nodding to when you passed them on the green.   Make empty promises to people about getting together for drinks. Take that shot with that random girl from your English lit class last semester. She's so much more fun than you gave her credit for -- not that anyone's level of fun can be surmised after one socratic seminar.

You're friends with everyone and everyone is friends with you. Bond over the fact that this is the last semester of your college career. The last deadline, the last paper, the last time signing up for classes. The last time you'll ever have a chance to see these people. Oh and while you're at it, stop hyperventilating. 

Laugh. At everyone's Facebook pictures from freshman year. At the dumb drunk, high, and otherwise inebriated moments. At your fears, especially since you're probably better off than most Americans without a college degree. 

Make stats up about how unemployment is at an all time low for the first time since 08. Oh wait, it actually is. Take solace in the fact that you can always move in with your parents, or pursue that fashion design career you've been dreaming about.  

Fear working at McDonald's. Or that you'll hate your job, even though you haven't even started. Have irrational worries that you'll never meet anyone after college. That you're not smart enough. Or pretty enough. That you really didn't learn anything useful in college.

Realize. That if college was the best four years of your life -- then you have much larger problems than just next year's plan. The best has yet to come. 

Relax. You're still young. Whatever you do next year is not what you'll be doing for the rest of your life.   

Trust me. When I say that no matter what, things will turn out okay. 

Look forward to tomorrow. Because the best thing about the future is that it only comes one day at a time. 

Date a girl who travels...

Adapted from: http://blitzkreigkate.tumblr.com/post/3246440448/date-a-girl-who-reads-date-a-girl-who-spends-her

Date a girl who travels. Date a girl who spends her money on plane tickets, bus tickets, and that new pair of hiking boots. She has no problems with closet space, because she knows that everything she needs can be carried on her back. Date a girl who has a list of cities she wants to visit, who growing up, only requested postcards from other people for her scrapbook.
 
Find a girl who travels. You'll know that she does because she will always be daydreaming -- imagining herself on a whirlwind adventure. She's the one looking over her shoulder, unafraid of whatever height she's climbed to. You see the weird chick asking for directions, constantly talking to strangers, and trying to hitchhike, trespass, and/or talk her way to wherever she wants to be? That's the traveler. They're easily identified by a fierce independence streak and a strange ability to befriend every stranger that crosses their path.

She's the girl tapping her foot to the sound of a street musician, sniffing at the spices at the market, and  slipping her shoes off at the temple. If you take a peek inside her bag, you won't find make up -- but tissues, a camera, and a map. She's wandering, but never lost. Walk by her. She might give you a glare, because you're blocking her camera shot. Ask her if she likes the view.

Offer to take a picture for her.

Let her know what you really think of people who only want to travel to Europe. See if she's ever traveled alone. Understand that if she says she wants to travel to Africa, she has already secretly acknowledged how dangerous that would be alone. Ask her if she'd like a travel companion.

It's easy to date a girl who travels. Expensive shoes, jewelry, and fancy hotels won't impress her. They're nice, but save your money for an experience you two can enjoy together -- because a traveler understands how hard it is to find good company for that perfect sunset. Give her a bustling city, a tiny village in the middle of the desert, winding roads, open oceans, narrow cave passages, or a view across the canopy of the rainforest; she can be happy anywhere. Let her know that you won't ever hold it against her when she prioritizes her dreams and travel plans before you. Understand that she knows the difference between traveling and vacationing, but see if everyday doesn't feel like a vacation with her. It will never be your fault if you want to pick up and go -- because she already packed.

She has to rope you into her adventures somehow.

Lie to her. If she's learned anything during her travels, it's that "see you later" sometimes means good-bye, forever. For every goodbye: memories, tears, laughter, nostalgia, kindred spirits, and fleeting moments. It will not be the end of the world.

Fail her. Because a girl who travels knows that failure is part of living. Because girls who travel understand that a person who risks nothing, risks missing out on life. That you are allowed to make mistakes. That a wrong turn sometimes leads to unexpected opportunities, serendipitous encounters, or a breathtaking view only found off the beaten path. That you can make a mistake, and still make up for it by retracing your steps, U-turning, or asking for help with a map. That life is meant to have a few bumps in the road.

Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who travel understand that people, like the road before you, twist and turn in every direction. Even carefully laid out plans can go awry.

If you find a girl who travels, keep her close. When you find her trying to run away, don't tell her she's crazy. You may lose her for a few months, maybe for a year or two, but she will find her way back to you. She'll talk wistfully about living abroad forever, because for a while, forever doesn't seem that long...away from family and friends. But know that although her mind may be yearning for somewhere else, everyone needs a place to anchor.

You will propose at the mouth of a volcano. Or during Mardi Gras in New Orleans. Or very casually next time she's recovering from jet lag. Over Skype.

You will smile so hard you'll wonder why your heart hasn't completely collapsed from always running after her. You will ride off on a magic carpet, have your kids in foreign countries and teach them multiple foreign languages you wished you had found time to learn. She will introduce your children to French cuisine and Japanese culture, maybe in the same day. You will wander the winters of your old age together and she will quietly tell you she loves you, in every language she knows.

Date a girl who travels because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who will make life one long adventure. If you can only give her monotony, stale hours and half baked proposals, then you're better off alone. If you want the world and the parts of the world not yet explored, date a girl who travels.

Or better yet, date a girl who wants to save the world.

Let's talk anxiety, just you and me

Exaggerated resumes, half-written cover letters, and half baked grad school applications.

I'm completely drowning in expectations and unsung praise. 

Divided between career directions, where free advice is worth as much as it cost you... because ultimately, it's your life.

I want to know.
                I want to know where I'll be in five years.
                                Do you remember when a five year, ten year, 

                                                              and forever plan was only a distant calling?

I want to believe that everything will be okay.
I want to believe in myself.

Knowledge and belief. 
I want faith to be a verb.

I want to understand why next year is so frightening. Why is it -- that when college ends -- I'm suddenly lost. Wasn't all of college a prep session for the real world? Oh wait, John Mayer had it right? There IS no real world?

             

What were people's expectations of college, again?
     Self-discovery, sexual exuberance, with a dash of lime and salt.
But really, why did you go to college again?
     To learn, equip yourself with practical skills. To answer questions.
                                               
But, of course we make things difficult -- and for every question we answer, three take their place. Should I have majored in something else? Should I have tried harder in that class? A-'s are probably THE most frustrating grades to receive. My parents were right? I should've studied to be a doctor, lawyer, insert safe-bet life decision? Wait, am I as smart as I think I am? Wait, more important, am I smart enough to do what I want? I'm selfish, immature, and entirely too self absorbed. Why do I even think I can make a decision for myself?  

A soul can hardly rest easy with doubt - which arguably, is more difficult to deal with than grief. I want these doubts to go away.

It's true when they say that our generation -- that we are the most hopeful, the most optimistic -- despite the job market, global financial crisis, and despondent reactions to international conflicts and problems. With such naivety, optimism, and idealistic goals -- are we ready to turn into stone-cold cynics?  Is it easier to close your eyes and see only the good -- or to emotionally preserve yourself and see only the bad? I want to find that balance between optimism and healthy dose of cynicism.

I remember ...

When I had no plans for next week, let alone next year.
When being stranded in a foreign country was a real concern, that didn't really concern me.
When the idea of stability was undesirable.
When impermanence was a way of life.

I really have no point to this post.
But maybe that was the point.

I want, to stop wanting.

Just -- someone -- anyone -- let me find peace.
Amen.