Risky Business

I never realized how much of a people pleaser I'd become until recently.  I started to notice that my tendency to over think and second guess my decisions had more to do with the reactions and opinions of outside parties than those of my own.  Strangely enough, I'd always been a very independent, freethinking, liberal type who rarely conformed to the ideals and expectations of society.  Though, when it regarded my parents, I was seemingly void of any and all sense of individualism.  I was submissive to a fault and found myself allowing them to live vicariously through my future, and it wasn't their fault in the slightest.
My fears of failure went hand in hand with my fear of taking responsibility for my actions.  If I was to fail on the path that my parents put me on, I'd have them to blame for my shortcomings.  If I was to fail on the path I put myself on, well then I'd have no one to blame but myself.  Recently, I pondered which was worse: living the life my parents envisioned for me or taking that necessary risk in hopes of accomplishing my dreams, however unlikely.  It was conflicting.  I wanted the security, the stability, but knew that in the long run I'd hate myself for not trying.  There was so much risk in trying, but then again, what was life without a little uncertainty every now and again?
Who knows, maybe things would work out for the best--or maybe not.  The point is, no matter how much I'd like to think that one decision is more foreseeable than another, the reality is that there's no telling where life will take you.  The belief that sacrificing my happiness for some semblance of comfort wasn't something I was willing to tolerate any longer.  Life is fragile, fleeting, and ever changing, so let's not risk mundanity, and instead a chance at lasting happiness.

A "Friendly" Cup of Coffee

Today, marking the first day of the 2012 Spring semester at Georgia State University, was a complete and utter success.  I woke up at 6:30 a.m. and jump started my morning with a bowl of Kashi cereal paired with the daily CNN news report, a routine I've acquired over some time.  I soon realized it was 7:00 a.m., and being that class began at 1:30 p.m. I happily decided to go back to sleep until 9:00 a.m.. When I awoke, I showered and forced myself to get ready, grabbing a grey cardigan and grey tank top to boot.  I watched the newest episode of Pan Am (never fails) and ate a sufficient lunch consisting of my newly purchased groceries.  Once the showed had ended, I was out of ideas.  I had two hours before class, and was presently seated in my newly rearranged dorm room--bored.  Bored?!  With that thought (being thought?) I decidedly got up and walked over to the nearest Starbucks.  There, I ordered the usual unsweetened, tall, iced coffee (sans creme).  Sadly the frazzled baristas got my order wrong, and though I felt like an ass, I had to correct them once receiving a SWEETENED, tall, iced coffee.  Once receiving my correct order, I sat out of doors, ever so content.  The weather was overcast, warm, and balmy.  There was something very sensual about the humidity (that which I usually detest).  There were people scurrying to class and work, some happy some sad.  There were loiterers, beggars, and homeless people; yuppies, students, and tourists.  For a fleeting moment we were all harmoniously coexisting; life was happening before my eyes, and I couldn't help but smile.  I was finally back home, my home.
As I sat and pondered my recent homecoming (so to speak), an old man asked if the seat next to me was taken. The seat wasn't taken, but I myself was taken aback.  There were plenty of tables vacant, yet he opted to sit next to a complete stranger?  I didn't mind the company, bien sur, but would have preferred the solitude.  Once seated he commenced to ask me my major.  I answered, telling him that while I was presently an economics major, I was considering switching over to journalism.  He smiled and told me that I had the face for it, and while I appreciated the compliment, I didn't buy into his flattery.  He continued and asked me where I was originally from, a question I've never known how to answer.  I explained that my father was in the military, indicating travel, and he knowingly nodded.  Not long after, we sat in silence, and I'll admit it was a slightly uncomfortable situation, why I'm still not sure of.
Living in the city, you're bound to have so many people come in and out of your life.  On a daily basis you make new acquaintances, and with that lose some as well.  You discover a number of fair-weather friends, but a couple keepers along the way too.  The trick is to let your walls down, break through those barriers, and not be afraid to talk to that complete stranger outside of Starbucks over a friendly cup of unsweetened, iced coffee.

Familiarity breeds..

Just returning from a walk with my father, a feeling of pure adrenaline pulsed through my body.  Now, I mean to say that I was inspired, not ready to pump some iron.  All winter break I'd been basking in the success of my first semester of college, but failed to acknowledge the passing of time, all of which leading up to the new year.  My existence consisted of introspective walks, expanding my horizon through artistic expression, and above all else, brainstorming what the hell else to write for this blog.  After days on end of nonsensical rough drafts and too many cups of coffee and tea to count, I embraced my writers block and decidedly quick stressing over such a menial affair.  But, I found that once the Christmas holiday had come to a swift close, I was once again left tormented by my lack of drive.  It wasn't until this very evening that I came to realize that I'll never be anyone, unless I do something.  Something being anything, working towards a goal rather.  But, being a considerably introverted individual, I have a tendency to overlook this fine fact of life and let myself believe that I am completely self sufficient.  Nevertheless, as beautifully stated in the movie Into the Wild, "Happiness isn't real, unless it's shared".  With that being said, better material to come.  Bonnes vacances! 
(Above is a picture I recently painted of Sharbat Gula.  This picture is a representation of what her photo in National Geographics would have looked like had she not been forced to become a refugee, and able to finish her education in Afghanistan.)

Tis' The Season

Christmas	2588 up, 435 down
	The celebration of the birth of commercialism... Oh yea, and Jesus.

Tis' the season for overspending, is it not?  The annual concept of giving and receiving gifts inevitably creates a momentary economic godsend (No pun intended..) once every December 25th.  Take one step into an American shopping mall this time of year, and it won't be long before you begin to realize how little the holiday has anything to do with the birth of Christ, and everything to do with mass consumerism and commercialism.  I mean seriously, what on Earth do elves, reindeer, and placing a live tree in your house have to do with anything pertaining to the Christian faith (This, bien sur, isn't my way of denouncing Christmas traditions, but rather pointing out the fact that the holiday has so little to do with Christianity in and of itself)?  That's not to say that the holiday doesn't have it's upsides.  I've always been a firm believer that the beauty of Christmas stems from the idea that people of all creeds can celebrate and give thanks on this universal holiday.  However, when I catch a glimpse of a frantic father or mother with shopping bags lining his or her forearms, I can't help but cringe at thought of the 8.6% (10.2% in the state of Georgia) unemployment rate in our country (This "8.6%", only accounting for those who've recently applied for unemployment).  I begin to wonder who out of all these panicked shoppers can actually afford what they just purchased, and if in reality the person for whom they bought the gift for could care less.  And while I don't mean to be the bearer of bad news this holiday season, I find it interesting that we so easy forget that there is a 15.1% poverty rate in our own country, yet we continue to purchase inessential gifts for the most privileged of people.  Why do we feel an obligation to purchase material items to prove our appreciation for someone?  Christmas should be about celebrating life, not profiting the very people who make most peoples' lives a living hell (Thank you, corporate America).  There isn't anything wrong with giving and receiving gifts, it's the fact that it's expected, assumed, and in the off chance we don't receive said gifts we can't help but feeling slighted.  This, essentially, is my way of telling my friends and family that you are all receiving origami and a hug for Christmas, happy holidays everyone! -Case Closed-

Growing Pains

Leaving Atlanta to go home for Winter Break was slightly bittersweet.  Sure, I was excited to be out of school and away from my jail cell of a dorm, but there was something about my new life in the big (Relatively speaking, bien sur..) city that had me thinking twice.  Nonetheless, I had to leave.. unless of course I wanted to be removed by force.
The morning after I arrived in Peachtree City, I felt the familiar pang of boredom, one that all children growing up in suburbia have felt at one point or another.  What was there to do besides drive mindlessly on golf carts and eat at mediocre Mexican restaurants?  I was drawing a blank.  That's when I decided that if nothing else that day, I needed to get out the house.  So, I went for a walk.  To be honest, I wasn't exactly enthralled over the idea, but remembered that it had been one of the few things I was especially fond of while living in suburbia, so why not give it a try?  Surprisingly enough, I quite enjoyed myself.  I'd forgotten what it was like to be able to hear my own thoughts, and that alone was sufficiently satisfying.  I thought about the accomplishments I'd achieved over the course of my first semester of college, the people I'd befriended and unfriended, and above all else, how much I'd changed since last summer.  Though, the more I thought about it the more I realized that I hadn't changed at all, but instead reverted back to the person I'd always been.  Essentially, it was just a less judgmental, more self-assured version of my former self.  While basking in the success of my newfound self-discovery, it hit me.  I realized that the reason why I hadn't wanted to come home for the holidays wasn't because I'd rather barricade myself in my dorm watching Seinfeld re-runs, it was the fear of coming to terms with the fact that I'd outgrown the facade that I'd spent so long creating.  It was the fear of accepting the idea that I'd spent 7 years of my life being someone I couldn't even recognize.
Time has passed us all by, and whether we realize it or not, we aren't the same people we once were six months ago (Or is it only me?).  I've come to the conclusion, that there are people I've met in college that know me better than the people I've known since 6th grade homeroom.  This isn't their fault of course, it's my own.  I was always in fear of my peers not excepting me for who I really was, fearing that they were judging me as much as I was judging myself.
Presently, I couldn't be happier.  I've successfully completed my first semester of college, and things are surely looking up.  Everyday I wake up excited for my future, something I haven't always given much thought.  I have no idea where I'll be in the next year, coming months, or even tomorrow, but what I do know is that there's only one aspect in this life that I have complete and utter control over, and that's myself.

I get by with a little help from CNN..

Since I can remember, my parents told me that someday I'd have the privilege of attending college and earning my degree.  We never discussed specifics, such as what to study and why, or how choosing a degree had more to do with the country's economic standing than my "passions" and "dreams".  It wasn't until I began my first semester in college that I started to wonder where exactly I saw myself in four years (if not longer).  It seemed as though I had almost too much time to think about the matter.  I couldn't help but worry that I'd spend 4+ years of my life studying at a university, and no job to show for it.  Obviously I'd let my paranoia, and not to mention CNN news statistics get to me, but was I really overreacting?  Probably, but nevertheless it got me thinking.  

To be quite frank, I never had any idea of what I wanted to be when I "grew up".  I went from being five and wanting to be the first female president to being fifteen and wanting to cut hair.  To say the least, things have changed in the last 3.5 years.  Presently, I can see myself working as a columnist (Carrie Bradshaw stereotype?), and living in the city (Paris, s'il vous plait!).  But it was only two months ago that I was determined to become a lawyer (Joe Pesci is my hero).  Only, what if after all that school, I'd be stuck in a job as a corporate serf, or worse.. working for the corporate serf.  

Anyhow, my point is, in this economy it is so hard to predict where you'll be after college.  It used to be that the intent of a college degree was purely to educate yourself in hopes of becoming a more well rounded individual.  However, in light of the economic state of the world, we are now expected to not only be proficient in Shakespearian literature, but also understand how terrestrial planets differ from jovian (Bad example?).  If I had it my way I'd be studying English with a minor in French, but growing up with a mother working in the school system, I know for a fact that high school teacher's salaries in our country are, simply put, shit (For the amount of work they put in).  So essentially what I'm getting at is that not only do we college students have to worry about keeping our grades up, not getting date raped, and not gaining 17489327041 pounds, we also have to come to the reality that unless we know why we are doing what we're doing, there is a good chance that unemployment could be in our future.  What a positive post..

"Insert Creative First Post Title"

This is, obviously, my very first post on my very first blog.  Honestly, the prospect of someone out there reading this is slightly terrifying, but I suppose that is the intent in creating an online blog.  One of the only reasons I am going to start writing and posting information online is to practice my journalism skills.  This is an area in which I am very interested in studying, but am unsure if 1. I have what it takes and 2. if my heart is really in it.  I would really appreciate feedback on my content, good or bad.  I plan on covering my own insights and opinions on current events (I realize that is an extremely broad description) the world over.  These event will range from third world to first world problems, so don't be surprised if one day I'm posting about Arab Spring, and the next day about how I've run out of money on my Starbucks card (I'd like to just apologize in advance for the randomness.  I will try and figure out which subjects I am best at writing about through the course of the next few months.).  So to conclude, I appreciate you even reading this post, and hopefully I'll get a rapport going, and the vagueness surrounding the content of my blog will seemingly perish.
A la prochaine.. Angela Seal