"You will be stupid. You will worry your parents. You will question your own choices, your relationships, your jobs, your friends, where you live, what you studied in college, that you went to college at all… If that happens, you’re doing it right."

Ira Glass (via tess08)

(Source: prettyeyed-piratesmile)

required reading for my Lit into Film class - i approve.

my professor’s last lecture to graduating students

“I love you all, which is why I feel like it’s part of my responsibility to prepare you. It’s a hard world you’re going to be going into. You are going to get discouraged. You are going to ask yourself why you ever busted your ass for four or more years to get a degree to be at a job you don’t like. You are going to question every single decision you’ve ever made. Your parents may or may not support you and your dream may have to live with them for awhile and hate every minute of it. You’re going to struggle and you’re going to hate the world.

And when that happens, the only thing I can tell you is that you have to remember why you sat here, at this very spot, when you didn’t have to. Remember the passion you felt and let that follow you, let it keep you warm on cold nights, let it keep you company on the days you feel the most alone. All of you have a purpose you’ve manifested within yourselves. You make decisions deliberately and artfully, even when they don’t seem like that at all. Remember who you are and what you want. Remember to look at the bigger picture. Remember that all of the moments lead up to something, even when they hurt or look to be the manifestation of your worst nightmare. Remember that you are valuable and amazing. Remember to be kind and work harder than you ever imagined. Good things will happen. It won’t suck forever. I’m rooting for you.”

"You trip me out. You look so sweet with your dresses and shit but then I read your writing and I’ve decided you’ve got a real fucked up mind. Thank you for that."

some guy in my writing group

via jackieenguyen

GPOY with my roommates during finals week(s)

(Source: ashagreyjoyed)

via sheslikeaghost

(Source: butthorn)

when you get there

I had my first meeting with my mentor last week about my projects and the two p-words (possibilities! publishing!) as part of my Independent Study with her.  I have been trying all weekend to talk about this, to get it down in blog-form, but something about it keeps turning me off.  It sort of feels like psychological indigestion.  Writing about it makes me nervous and confused.  Even talking about it to my roommates took me awhile.

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"In fact, to a large degree, the real battle with such oppression, for all of us, begins under the skin… . For years I had berated myself for not being as “free” as my classmates. I completely bought that they simply had more guts than I did — to rebel against their parents and run around the country hitch-hiking, reading books and studying “art.” They had enough privilege to be atheists, for chrissake. There was no one around filling in the disparity for me between their parents, who were Hollywood filmmakers, and my parents, who wouldn’t know the name of a filmmaker if their lives depended on it (and precisely because their lives didn’t depend on it, they couldn’t be bothered). But I knew nothing about “privilege” then."

- Cherrie Moraga, La Guera.

(being aware of privilege will never be as in your face as it will be in college, trust me folks. You’ll have 24-year-olds leisurely sitting in your class who will talk about how they spent a year or two traveling the world to ‘find themselves’ and tell you that hilarious ‘running with the bulls’ story they have [out of their parents’ wallet, of course] while you feel the immense pressure of graduating on time, if not early, because your parents and/or student loans and/or savings can’t afford to pay for any extra bit of it. You’ll look at your fellow peers who feel really good about coasting by with C’s and see college as more of a party outlet and sex party.  And you’ll see it, loud and clear.  You’ll see it because you won’t have a choice whether you want to or not.)

so

I am stupidly infatuated with this guy on campus (whom I have only spoken to once - in an elevator) and it was almost worth it, you know, these academia-triggered headaches and anxiety attacks all hinging on getting up this morning and actually fulfilling my civic duty as a cranky university student to cross paths with him and almost witness him crash his bike off the road to fix his hair. He is so beautiful and weird! How can that not shallowly entertain me!

this was pre-vomit, if you know what I mean. Look at how happy we were before alcohol came into the picture, me lovin’ up on these ladies. 3 long islands later, I’m threatening to punch one of them in the vagina for taking pictures of me draped over the toilet vomiting my brains out.

to want and to have

I’ve realized that I have this problem, and it’s that I want everything.  I want to have my cake and eat it too.  Even being logical about it doesn’t really help, because we all know what happens to people who try to have their cake and eat it too.  They either lose everything or literally lose everything, because they die via sudden freak accident.  What I mean is that greed becomes a person.  At some point, wanting everything and thinking it’s possible to have everything becomes madness.  You get all ruthless and forget all about the people you love, you even let your cat die, and in the end, nothing is enough. 

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Chyeah son!

fuckyeahcollege:

Lemme hear all my humanities majors say AAAYYYYYEEEEEEEE!!!!

single ladies

So Friday after class I had to run to Starbucks to have an interview with someone from the school newspaper.  He’d emailed me last week, saying that he’d seen my artwork in the paper, and asked if I wouldn’t mind getting interviewed about how students can utilize the newspaper as a way for their creative works to get exposure.

So we met at Starbucks, ended up talking about a billion other things like how we love our major (HCOM) and how he’s studying abroad in France next year, and then at some part in our conversation he looks down at his notebook and goes, “Wow, I’ve taken no notes.”  And I could see his notebook.  He really didn’t.

I added him on facebook that night, got my drink on at the brewery with my girls, and then I came back and I sat down on my laptop and messaged him if he wanted to meet up for coffee again sometime.  In my mind I justified it as, “He’s a writer, we both love our major, this is a friend thing. Totally platonic.”  But I still had to shut my eyes when I hit that send button.  I also physically cringed.  Afterwards I was like, okay, it’s done. I can’t take it back now.

After I got off work today, I was seriously dreading checking my facebook.  But eventually I did.  I had one new message and I refused to click it.  I couldn’t even look at it.  I could only do it with Beyonce on full blast (see post title for song choice) and me doing some weird dance in my seat to release nervous energy.  I told my friends, “What if he responds, and all he says is “Eww”?”  Which was meant to be funny.  But it is also a very legitimate fear.

Anyway, he was said yes, and asked what my schedule was this week. This is how you get writers, guys.  You lure them in with the promise of a caffeinated beverage.

reddit: “To all my fellow graduates with jobs lined up…”