| I haven't written in this thing in over a year. Go me, yet again a fail. But that's okay, I just wanted to write down my thoughts for the last year and this summer, and what's coming up for me in the next year.
This last year has been sort of tumultuous. Starting last summer, I was no longer a high school senior - instead, I was some college bound adolescent who had no idea what she wanted out of life. In my mind, I was headed to some second tier school in Texas of all places, and, though I loved the campus and people, I was sort of disappointed with myself. I kept thinking, "Man, I should be headed to some medical program or gone for a bigger name school, Berkeley, Northwestern, or even Case Western." I kept these negative thoughts in my head literally the whole summer and through the first few months of school. Indeed, I was pretty convinced halfway through first semester, when I was horribly homesick, that I was going to transfer into Berkeley junior year.
I'm not sure what changed. Maybe it was when I visited home and the house was, well, weird. My mother had rearranged my bedroom and turned my brother's room into the gym (though in her defense, he had moved out and had a new room in the bonus room). When I saw my friends, it had been the first time in months, and it was strange to see them again, to joke with them, because the way I interacted with people at school was so different. The people from my high school and college were intrinsically different people. I'm not sure why I saw them as different - but I think it's because my high school friends saw me grow up. Most of them had been there through my middle school. They had seen me through my awkward stage (which never really left), and seen me go from someone who was so insecure that she felt like she was always inadequate, never enough to be worth anything, to someone who had a decent amount of self confidence and had no issues being blunt (which may or may not be a good thing).
When I went back to Rice after that first break, I had a new perspective. My roommate this past year was one of those nightmares you hear about. Not that she was a bad person, because she wasn't, and if we hadn't roomed together I think we would have been great friends, but we just had really different living styles. And I'm sure, given how miserable I was, she had to have been pretty displeased with our situation as well. When I heard some of my friends' roommate stories, I definitely felt better. Not being able to come home often didn't seem that bad (that may have been because I was coming home in three weeks for winter break anyway...), and I was excited to see my college friends again. About that time, thoughts of transferring slowly melted away and I became more immersed in Rice culture.
I made a group of great friends almost immediately at Rice - we were all from different dorms, but we clicked and came together as a pretty solid group first semester. We ate meals together, went out together, and studied together. Indeed, this continued through second semester, though one of my suitemates fell ill, and that occupied most of my semester. My only regret was that I didn't get to know people in my own college that well - but that was rectified second semester anyway. I experienced my first large emotional breakdown at there, I learned how fast paced relationships in college move and how quickly they end, and I saw what could happen when alcohol went wrong. I learned a lot emotionally. And I tried to live by the adage (and I'm simply going to paraphrase) that a smart woman learns from her mistakes, but a wise one learns from the mistakes of others. I definitely did learn from my friends' mistakes.
I suppose the most significant event of my first semester didn't happen to me. Disaster, and that is an understatement, struck one of my best friends. It was heartbreaking to hear about it, but to be thousands of miles away and unable to help or fix it. I was on the phone with her for hours each week initially, hoping to make it better somehow. In the end, she was the only one who could heal herself - sorry for speaking in dramatics, but it wasn't a simple situation - and she did. And I watched as one of my closest friends grew up in ways I hope I never have to. She became cautious, mature, and wise - not to say she wasn't earlier, but she definitely became more so. And while it still depresses me to see some world weariness and cynicism in her eyes, I realize that that is life, and that 'stercus accidit.'
Academically, first semester went well. I discovered that my love for English, Latin, Psychology, and Chemistry were all legitimate, which was excellent. And I discovered my distaste for Math always was legitimate, which was sobering. I never thought I truly despised the subject but...
Second semester started off with a bang. I came back from a fabulous winter break - I had three weeks to spend with family and friends, and I enjoyed them thoroughly. Coming home felt slightly more natural and seeing my high school friends felt a lot more normal. No longer did I feel like one world collided sharply with the other - they started to blend. I wasn't one Ruchi at home and another at school - I feel like I became one person comfortable enough in her skin (excuse the cliche) to simply act naturally around those around her.
Academically, teachers expected us to be on top of things - we were not longer ickle, helpless freshman. Well, we were, but we were supposed to have some idea of what we were doing. And I suppose that was a fair assumption. Except for my friends who changed majors daily, we all had a good idea of what we were doing.
No longer did my friends and I have dinner and lunch together every day. We split up if we had stuff to do - one of my friends used to lock herself in the library every day after class for five or six hours, taking a break for the gym and dinner. I started studying in my room, alone, feeling it was a better way to concentrate, and grabbing a quick dinner at my dorm. Another friend decided he needed to get to know people in his college. And we started drifting. Undoubtedly, we were still excellent friends. But we started getting lives of our own, and in no way was this a bad thing.
And my major event of second semester? Besides falling into the deepest emotional feeling (I hesitate to use the word "love" for obvious reasons) I had in my life (I'll get into that later), the event didn't happen to me. Instead, it happened to my suitemate, who got sick.
Why was this major? It sort of took over our suite's life. Not that in any way I begrudge her this - in fact, in a way, I'm thankful. It forced me to eat at my own college more, and I got to know more people. I learned to deal with some administration on her behalf and I became infinitely closer to my suitemates. She was sick for about two months (maybe a month and a half), from mid semester until even after I left. And I learned a lot from her - she handled the whole ordeal amazingly, going to class when she could, staying patient, and so forth. Through it all, I learned one very, very important lesson though: grades really are not all important. Taking care of yourself or someone who needs it is much more significant.
(Academically: Organic chemistry is hard, man, and philosophy is a horrible, horrible subject. As is math. But Psych and labs are amazing and so fun! Pick lab partners wisely though...)
Oh. Just to mention: all this happened after my birthday. And my birthday was amazing. I wish I could capture with words how I felt when I walked into my surprise party (which wasn't much of a surprise when a friend tried to convince me first that her grandfather died and then that she was pregnant) and saw the people I cared about there, my suitemates, my friends, and people I wasn't aware others knew I was friends with. Needless to say, that's going to stay one of my treasured memories for life.
As the semester wound down, I realized I hadn't seen my friends all that much since my suitemate had gotten sick. After a little friend bonding, we all left for summer. I came home, where I had my first "I can write this down and know it has weight because it's legal and legitimate" summer internship. This is when I learned that labs in college do not apply to the real world. In fact, almost nothing I learned in college applied except maybe a little bit of psychology and basic biology concepts that I learned in - wait for it! - eleventh grade.
The internship was a lot of work. I don't think it was so much others' expectations of me, but rather my expectations for myself. I learned a lot - I learned how to design an experiment, order the materials, dump valuable data because of one unaccounted for variable (that was the most painful experience of my life, including getting my wisdom teeth out), and how to write a scientific paper. I learned how to work with people I didn't necessarily like, and how to manage an intern. I learned that patience was a virtue and that no scientific experiment can be completed in a day. Optimism is a must in science, and research is repetitive.
I could go into detail - but I don't think it's necessary. I feel like everyone has to go through this experience eventually. The glow of discovery, of knowing you've learned something that no one has learned before, or that you've done an experiment which allows someone else to lead to that conclusion. I feel like everyone knows what it's like to look at something as impossible, and then somehow accomplish it. It was an amazing feeling, the quiet satisfaction that a good grade never quite achieved. Here, again, it was hammered into me that grades really weren't everything.
Throughout all of this, I fell hard in "like." I'm not sure when exactly or even how it happened. It was gradual though, and by the time I realized (courtesy of friends, suitemates, and oddly enough teachers) I was (am?) probably more emotionally committed than I had ever been previously. That was hard for me to deal with. Those who know me well know I prize control over how I feel and what I do, and I was unpleasantly surprised to find myself not in control of what was going on with myself. I tried using logic to justify it not happening, and I tried to convince myself I had no feelings but that as a friend. Yeah, no, it didn't work. And while it sort of sucks, I'm also sort of grateful. After all, life is no fun without its ups and downs right?
As summer winds down (my plane takes off for Houston in...oh, nine and a half hours), I have to say, I think I had a successful year - indeed, I feel like I met all three of my goals (1. Don't fail, 2. Loosen up, 3. Become more girly [yes, it is questionable as to whether or not I actually achieved the last one]). I laughed, I cried, I lived, and now I can say I loved. I got hurt and had friends there to support me and somehow, eventually make it better. I don't really know if I matured, though I think I did.
My goals for next year haven't really changed. I feel like those are more life goals than year goals. Failing is usually not a good thing, people take themselves way too seriously, so loosening up is not too bad...and the girly thing? Okay, that's more temporary and a lot more me-specific. It's debatable that it'll happen, simply because I have these amazing pairs of athletic shorts and...!
I don't know what's in store for me this upcoming year. I had no way of knowing at this time last year that I'd meet cousins who I now adore and cannot wait to see in twelve hours, I didn't know I'd make such great friends, ones I'm stoked to see again and ones I'm sad to leave behind (odd, how sometimes you become better friends with people after high school!), I didn't know where I'd be living...really, I didn't know much of anything. Again, I don't know what's going to happen - I have no idea what my room looks like (or a bigger concern right now: how I'm going to get IN it!) or who I'll end up making friends with by the end of the year. I don't even know who I'm sitting next to on the airplane.
But I'm pretty excited for all of it.
Peace out, world.
(p.s. I'm moving to www.simplyshort2008.blogspot.com) |
