get un-funky now

I haven't posted much in the past week or so (except for yesterday's blog title crisis). I've been in a funk. A seriously funky funk. And I wasn't sure if I should write about it because a) it seems incredibly selfish and insignificant considering the turmoil so much of the globe is in right now, b) I'm not sure if anyone wants to read a "woe is me" post, and c) it's scary to say – and write – these things out loud.

But I want to write about it. And I want to post it. And who knows, maybe someone can relate.

I've been feeling remarkably insecure lately. Not the typical girly insecurities like feeling not thin or pretty enough – although I have to say I have those moments as well. In general my insecurity comes from school and work.

I've never really been unsuccessful at school. In college I was honored with membership in Phi Beta Kappa. In high school I never got a B. I was valedictorian.

I don't say all this to brag - really, I don't. I never talk about these things. I never tell anyone unless I'm asked directly. I'm only saying them now to give context to how I feel and why I shouldn't feel that way.

I never felt smarter than other people in school. Sure, I realized on some level that I must be, or at least that the teachers thought I was. I did my best in school because I wanted to and I liked learning and because my father would have killed me if I didn't. And my best was always good enough - more than good enough. I wasn't really afraid of failing.

Now I think about it all the time.

I'm not completely sure what the difference is. Maybe its because the stakes seem so much higher in grad school. Maybe partially it's because if I failed in high school or college, well, so did lots of other people. The pressure was off, I suppose.

Not so in grad school.

Everyone else seems older, more experienced, more serious. They have read the New York Times every day for the past five years. They have opinions on what's going on. They are excited to get out there and do it, real reporting, real interviews. They intimidate me.

I, on the other hand, would rather spend my day blogging about Glee or what some starlet wore on the red carpet or Slankets than the revolution in the middle East or the tsunami in Japan. Not because I don't find the revolution interesting or newsworthy or important (and I realize Slankets are the opposite of all those adjectives), but I think because I so desperately want to put off the real world for a little bit longer.

I do love writing. I believe in writing. I love and believe in the power of words. I think you can express things that are hard and complex and scary through writing in a way you can't with speech alone (this post is proof - I have been trying and failing to verbalize these things lately).

And I honestly love my classes this semester. I love talking about current events, learning about online news and social media, analyzing writing, coming up with creative ways to say things... My professors are really inspiring and I feel like I'm learning a lot. It's just when I go out to the real world to actually implement what I've learned that I freeze. It's like have a mental block. I get overwhelmed and stressed and just retreat.

I don't know if this is the career for me. I don't know if I'm wasting my time and money in journalism school. But I also don't know what, if anything, I'd rather be doing. I want to write and I want to be successful and I just can't seem to figure out the path that takes me there.

This is the most conflicted I've been in a long long time. And it might be too serious and too personal. I feel kind of weird putting it all out there. But there it is.

family food fun!!

Oh my god you guys. I am SO full. I think I'm leaving Thanksgiving week behind me approximately 63 pounds heavier. Instead of going home (other home at least), this year my parents came to our new home in Boston and we literally just ate, drank and played with Penny for four days straight. It was glorious.

And although it was weird not to put up our usual Christmas tree while listening to carols (that is, if you call Celine Dion Christmas, "carols"), it was still a fully holiday-y holiday.

[Sidenote, here is an actual conversation that occurred on Thanksgiving morning as we waited for Nancypants and Russbuckets to arrive and begin the festivities
Me, excited: Babe! Starting at 5:00 today we can start listening to Christmas songs!!
Brian, not as much: No we can't. I'm not listening to Christmas songs until Thanksgiving is officially over.
Me: Babe! Starting at 5 a.m. tomorrow we can start listening to Christmas songs!!!!!
Brian: I hate you.*
*He didn't say this, it just sounds more dramatic. He actually said some nonsense about you can't listen to Christmas tunez until December or some such thing. I called foul and immediately began downloading the Glee Christmas album.
Sidenote over.]

But I have a lot to be thankful for.

I live in an awesome, bustling, cool city with my best friend, who has been known to bring me not only an open beer but also a purring kitten (I know!) while I watch tv on my computer in my pajamas.

I have parents who stock up my cabinet with wine - much more than enough for just Thanksgiving weekend so I can have some after they leave (you guys are the best, Momsy and Popsicle).

I have friendys all over the U.S. who I am lucky to miss so much.

I have some amazing, beautiful sistahs (Bonnie, Anne, Allie and the newbies) who are going to bring me some incredible souvenirs from India (right? RIGHT?!?!?!?!).

I have a tiny tiny kitty who is sleepy and sweet and adorable and playful.

And much more, yadda yadda I am thankful blah blah blah. Let not get too mushy here.

But really. I am.

missing Millsaps

Lately I've been thinking about Millsaps. A lot.

I miss the instant access of having all my best friendys at my fingertips. For four years I only had to go next door, down the hall or at the most to a building 100 feet away in order to spend time with all my favorite people.

Every weekend was a party (often involving costumes, heaven). Every meal was a chance to catch up with my friends. Every class was an opportunity to exchange thoughts and opinions with people that I respected.

Tait was always there to watch Harry Potter and craft and drink wine. Bonnie was always there to work out, hit the caf, procrastinate in the English house or get dolled up together. Molly was always there to pre-party for any and every occasion. So many friendys meant so many different things to me it would be pointless to try to name them all individually. CMO was there to dance and gossip and laugh. Kappa Delta was there for swaps, formals and post-chapter dinners. Lambda Chi Alpha was there for parties, games and movie nights. Of course Brian was always there, for everything.

And he still is. I love that we get to have this Boston adventure together. I love that we get to figure out how to be adults (and sometimes rebel against adulthood) together.

But that doesn't mean I don't miss the other parts of my old life.

I enjoy BU and I like the friends I've made, especially through being a TA, and I really want to get better at my chosen field... but sometimes I think perhaps I should have taken a gap year or two. It's really weird, and hard too - unexpectedly so - to be technically in college but to feel so disconnected from the whole experience. I think if I had a year in between the feeling wouldn't be so... raw. At Millsaps we worked hard, but we played hard too. Having such close friends around made the work seem easy - or if not easy, then easier. The absence of those connections here makes the work feel so much harder, even when its not.

Then again, I've heard from others that going straight into grad school and knocking it out is the best way to do it. So maybe its just a grass-is-greener kind of thing. Which just makes me think of KD, and the wave of nostalgia washes over me again. Sigh.