This uncertainty. It’s actually exhilarating.

This is what it was like junior year of High School. I can try my absolute hardest and never know where I’ll end up. What colleges will I get into? Which one will I choose? 

This is the phase I’ve re-entered. I will absolutely try my hardest and I don’t even have a hint where I’ll go from here. What will I choose as my second major? Where will I intern next? Will I graduate with a job?

The first time around, I ended up pretty content. I need to just life run its course. I will let God decide my fate. Not that I’m not going to try, ‘cause the world better watch out—is how hard I’m gonna work at it. I guess all it takes is the fear factor to push me.

The automatic nervous system works better than a conscious brain.

favorite memories of first semester sophomore year. love and miss y’all!

In college, honest students are overlapped. Hard working students finish last. Caring students are shot in the foot with a gun before the race even starts.

What is the point of studying when there are students that use others to do their work, load up on Adderall, and cheat on the exam? What is the point of putting in 100% when the way the system is set up is to reward those who can put as little in as possible? What’s the point of helping others, being considerate, or having an inkling of a heart if others will use you, wring out the last drops, and sabotage even your faintest success?

When I toured this “institution”, I couldn’t believe there were students who jumped from the top floor of the library. I thought they were dumb, selfish, and quitters. But last night, I realized something.

No one would jump if they haven’t tried their very hardest, exhausted every option no matter how unattractive, or hoped that the future would be better. This school is not made up of kids like that. This world is not made up of people like that. There’s just a point where everything is so unpredictable, inconsistent, and proven to continually disappoint that death seems so beautiful. The end, at least, is not an illusion.

Somehow, it’s the only comforting thing for me now. Knowing that at least my ultimate demise is waiting patiently for my arrival. It is frank and welcoming. It accepts me for the honest, hard working, and caring person that I am. No more disappointment…

I hope to God, that this is not the case for everyone else, or blessed be their souls.

So yesterday, I ran away from home, got to New York City at like 9 PM, and by 3 PM today, I’m employed. It’s crazy because Ippudo is the only restaurant I wanted to work at last year but because of school work decided to hold off.

Why did I doubt myself? If there’s one thing I’m good at, after not giving a shit, it’s time management. Even though I have one of the toughest schedules ever fall semester (as confirmed by the Stern student advising team), I’m confident I’ll be able to handle it. I always make room for things I love. And I love nothing more than Japanese food and working in food service. If the pay were just a little better, I’d be a waitress for the rest of my life.

Training starts soon and I’m beyond excited. Ippudo is a great restaurant and definitely the best in East Village. God, their ramen is so good and now I can finally explore their crazy appetizers. I really think I was meant to work here. Everything—the timing, my experience in both food service and at a modelling agency—was perfect. Even the manager said “it was fate”.

I’m back on track.

P.S. I’m dropping Finance for good. Hello Marketing, Management, and Organizations.

so every time i look at this schedule, i have an anxiety meltdown-heart attack-panic seizure. four of some of the most work-intensive classes all stuffed into one semester and even worse, all in two days. and even worse than that, i don’t like any of them. good bye social life. good bye sanity. good bye lucy.

they say your room says a lot about you, so what does mine say about me?

I’m not.

Finished!

However, my supply is currently low—alarmingly low.

I use my assault rifle when attacking exams, sniper rifle when scoring deals, grenades when defending my pride, flamethrower when scorching art, rocket launchers for going out, pistol when firing insults, and sentinel when landing a sale.

Well, they’re still here. Just rendered useless as I’m low on ammo.

I fought the war but the war won. And now I need to rebuild my supply chain.

(Source: lover-of-sadness)

I haven’t written anything in a while. And that is because I’ve been doing less thinking, and more doing—a recent short-term goal that is ironically the opposite of my long-term goal.

NYU is so different from a traditional college experiences that it ceases to be a tangible institution and is simply an experience. The campus is more of a concrete jungle than a conglomeration of students with a unified soul. NYU is not unified. It is even more diverse than the college application information sessions suggest. We are a stream of light diverging at the prism, in the heart of New York City.

The one thing I do like about NYU is that it offers students a lot of alone time, which is a thought most college students fear. There is little group activities or influential organizations to be a part of. It is so hard to get involve, even for the highly active and spirited few like me. And I didn’t even realize that until I had to talk about it in an interview. But having time alone—away from the chaos that is parades, protests, paranormal activity—you can find yourself. And isn’t that what college is about?

What is important isn’t that I know how to find the individual supply and demand curve of a given industry, but that I know who I am.

That process is currently pending.

Writing this essay just isn’t happening.

is the sacrifice made by not choosing the alternative.

By attending NYU, I’m not just spending over $60,000 a year to get continuously jew-ed. I’m losing the opportunity to make $20k-$30k at a low-income job.

By building new campuses, NYU is not just spending all the money students pay to expand. It’s losing money it would have otherwise used to improve our educational experiences.

Now that I am poor—and perhaps senile—I feel like I am weighing my options more than ever before. Should I go to the dining hall, spend less money and get a stomach ache, or should I go out, spend all my cash but be happy?

These basic economic theories seem to arise at every circumstance, not just monetary ones. Everything is a trade-off. GPA for enjoyment, fitness for calories, an experience for companionship, etc.

I need to figure out—what do I want? I guess that’s the only thing we’re really supposed to walk away with from college—our true desire. I just hope mine’s the right one.

Ocean Grove, June 2008

Who is this person?

This high school freshman was notorious for refusing to frown. She was fit and healthy, relatively tan too. Orchestra and Red Cross were her life. She never went to class and was content with B’s. Spanish was her favorite language and she never read a book for fun. She strongly believed in “friends forever” and never kissed a boy. She wore graphic t’s and short-shorts everyday and never gave a second thought about the future. Alternative rock was all she’d listen to and she was even center of the girl’s freshman lacrosse team.

This girl couldn’t wait to grow up. And now where is she?

My weekday schedule for the 2012 spring semester: 14 hours of class and 17 hours of work every week. Extracurricular activities, mandatory meetings, and study time not included. I’m super booked this semester and I’m stoked. Can’t wait to reap the harvest of my achievements in May. Just hope I have enough time to sleep.