Wide open spaces

So today I did it. I changed my major. And I really feel like I was standing in a long hallway, and all of a sudden thousands of hidden doors just opened up for me. Magazine jouranlism really offers me so much more freedom than broadcast does; I could write in the office or I could freelance, I could travel, I could write about more or less anything my little heart desires.

I still have absolutely no idea what I want to do with my life, as a career I mean, but that's okay. I have time. The important thing is that I have my mobility; the thought of being tied down and trapped is enough to give me panic attacks (which brings us into a whole other realm of irony that I don't even want to begin to address, not right now, anyway).

My advisor told me I should figure out what I like to write about and start doing it. So I can decide if I want to write for news (probably not), or fashion (hmm), or something else (ding ding ding). I really am leaning towards a critic...after all, I already do it constantly. Why not get paid for it? I'd have to take lit and music and film courses, because I'm too picky to be a food critic. But books and music and movies...I could really immerse myself in that kind of thing.

Most of what I write about, even in my private blogs and journals, is at least somewhat introspective/philosophical. I know there are probably very few (if any) magazines out there like that, but I can handle that. I just want to make people stop and think. I want to have an impact on peoples' lives, no matter how small. If any of you have ever read even one of my posts and stopped for a second and thought, "Wow, she may have a point there. I never thought about it that way," then this entire blog is a success. I don't need fame, I don't need fortune. I just need to be able to reach out and touch something.

Cause you left the frays from the ties you severed, when you said "best friends" means "friends forever"

Sigh.

I suppose these things happen. I know they do. People get older, they change, their priorities change. That doesn't stop this from being incredibly painful. The fact is, I've seen it coming for the past couple months; we both have. Maybe it's my fault for befriending (or bestfriending, ha) the "flavor of the month" kind of girls every time. Maybe it's her fault for being that way.

More likely it's both of our faults; we're too inattentive, too self-centered, too used to letting other people make the effort. I can't help but feel as though I've been replaced, but I'm sure she feels the same. The replacements are just different. And in my eyes at least, I was replaced first. It started long ago...almost a year. But when you go from hanging out with your "best friend" every single day, just the two of you, to hanging out rarely (and even then, only with her and her boyfriend), then...well, you can't help but feel pushed to the side.

I'd love to say that it's just a matter of people getting older and changing and drifting apart; a natural part of life that hurts but happens to everyone. But somehow, I just know that that explanation is too easy.

I'm a fixer. I like to fix things, make them better, or at least as good as they once were. And by God, I really am going to try. But something tells me that this time, there's no going back. How is it that you go from being a person's future maid of honor to barely speaking and posting passive-aggressive blogs that each hopes the other will read? How do you go from knowing everything (and I do mean EVERYTHING) about one another to not even knowing if she ever found a new job, or if her latest relationship is struggling as much as past ones (for the record, it's not)...? Maybe we just never had enough in common.

Or maybe we had far too much.

Nothing messes with your head more than psychology

Before I went to bed last night, I read a chapter in my psych book about sleep and dreaming. And dream theories, as in, what purpose dreams serve. Now, I've always been one to have really weird, random, and messed up dreams. But last night may just take the cake, and I think that chapter is to blame.

I dreamt that my boyfriend from high school proposed to me. Mind you, this guy and I broke up my senior year in high school. We're on really good terms now, but we rarely talk because we're both so busy. So anyway, he came to visit me. And he asked me to marry him. He gave me the ugliest ring ever, and I said yes. The next day I told him that I had a boyfriend (which in real life, I do), and a "man-on-the-side" who was another ex of mine (in real life, the person really is another ex, but there is DEFINITELY no side action going on...ick). And I was suprised when my "fiancé" was mad about it. Because I told him I was dumping the other two and I loved only him. The weird thing is, even in the dream I knew that I was lying. I think my dream-self was afraid that no one would ever ask, so I'd have to take what I could get.

And I think that's my underlying problem. I have this mentality where I feel like I never have options, I have to just take what I can get because I'm not good enough for anything else. Which is slightly preposterous. Everyone has choices. Even me, even as I type this, I have a choice. And I'm sticking to my guns.

I guess that's the scary thing about commitment for people like me, people who have been hurt too many times in the past. Commitment means giving another person the opportunity to hurt you again. But I was rereading one of my favorite books the other night (High Fidelity by Nick Hornby, for anyone who cares...great book) and there were a couple lines that stuck out in my mind.

"You run the risk of losing anyone who is worth spending time with...If you're going to go in for this stuff at all, you have to live with the possibility that it won't work out". And as always, the book sums up my current issue perfectly. Thank you, contemporary English lit.

As if we needed more ways to mess up.

The seven mortal sins. Most of the population is at least somewhat familiar with the concept at the very least. Seven sins that are so base and so terrible, they are considered deadly to the soul. Commiting just one of these sins, even one time, results in eternal damnation to hell. For those who are not immediately familiar with the sins themselves (even I had to Wikipedia them to get the full list), they are: Lust, Gluttony, Avarice, Sloth, Wrath, Envy, and Pride. Oddly enough, pride is considered the worst of the seven. It just seems strange to me...I always assumed that the Catholic Church was pretty critical of lust in particular, but maybe that's just what modernity does to religion. At any rate, these seven sins have been corrupting humans worldwide since they were first laid down in the sixth century CE.

Recently, Pope Benedict XVI has declared seven "new" deadly sins; essentially the old sins with a contemporary twist. The list has been expanded to include genetic modification, experimenting on humans, pollution, causing social injustice, causing poverty, becoming obscenely wealthy, and taking drugs. Now, I can honestly say that some of these make sense; human experimentation isn't always a walk in the park. But are you trying to tell me that if I drive my car too much, or throw a piece of paper on the ground, that I'm going to hell? Now, before the environmentalists out there go balistic, let me just say this: pollution sucks. It's gross and it ruins the only planet we'll ever have. But come on...hell? For forgetting to turn off my t.v. at night?

It seems to me that the whole concept of eternal damnation is slightly flawed. I refuse to believe that a good person, who makes a couple mistakes (especially in his or her youth) will be doomed to suffer for eternity. Who are we to judge? The human race as a whole can't even agree on whether or not an afterlife even exists, let alone who gets to go there.

But I have class, so I suppose I have to cut this short.

Square one?

If you could look into my head and see what I'm thinking, you would probably laugh. I honestly feel as though there's a tennis match inside my skull, only with four half-courts instead of two, opinions instead of nets, and decisions instead of tennis balls. It is slightly (perhaps more than slightly) ridiculous as to the number of times I've changed my mind today, and the speed at which this mind-changing has happened. I can honestly say that I've "made up my mind" approximately sixty-three different times today, between four or five different decisions.

I keep telling myself that nothing is easy, not anymore, and that I should stop expecting it to be. Expecting things to just be simple and carefree reaches a new level of self-absorption that even I cannot justify. So no matter what I decide to do, it's going to be difficult. So why change anything at all...right?

I used to think that some things would just come naturally. Relationships with friends and the opposite sex (provided that, in the case of the latter, it was the right person). Finding a career that you could love. Being confident in yourself.

But it all takes a substantial amount of effort. More than I ever would have believed.

I guess this is it. Childhood and adolescence truly are over. I'll be twenty in two short months. I suppose it's time I started acting it.

Think about the best thing that ever happened to you. The number one, all time greatest, life-changing event. Was it always the greatest? Did you think it was the worst thing at first, or is that just me?

When the greatest thing that has ever happened to me actually happened to me, I had just turned sixteen and I thought I had everything I needed in my life. I couldn't have been more wrong if I had tried.

I initially thought that the best thing to ever happen to me was the worst. I actually threw a legitimate temper tantrum over it, like a child, which in retrospect is funny but at the time was just sad. I was so upset, and so desperate. I considered being technically homeless until I was old enough to legally rent a place to live. It was one of my worst nightmares, and I was living it.

Looking back, I still think it was an incredibly difficult thing to go through, particularly at that age. But it made me who I am today, and I am genuinely proud of that. It also brought me here, and (despite my recent doubts about whether I really belong here) I couldn't imagine being anywhere else in the world. I wouldn't want my life anywhere else.

So what was your greatest thing? Think about it. You don't have to tell me. But was it expected or sponaneous? Did you want it at the time? How long did it take you to realize how amazing it was? And please, I ask you not to say "the day my boyfriend asked me out" or something like that. People are unreliable and, for the most part, largely untrustworthy. Events, history...those things never change.

Where are you going?

Do you remember the first time thaty you knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, what you wanted to do for the rest of your life? Were you five? Fourteen? Are you still waiting for that moment of clarity and assuredness?

I was never the child who answered the question "What do you want to be when you grow up?" the same way twice. It's been doctor, nurse, nun, firefighter, policewoman, teacher, news anchor, and a million other things that I forgot almost as soon as I answered the question.

For the past four years, I've been saying news anchor. And I woke up the other morning and realized that I would hate my job. I chose my major on a whim; my dad told me one day that he thought I'd "look good" reading the news, that I'd be good at it. So I went with that. I was a sophomore in high school, and I had decided that it was about time I figured out where my life was going. Now, nearly five years later, I still have no clue.

I want to stay in journalism, because I'm at one of the best schools for it in the entire country. I think I'm leaning towards either magazine or public relations. The former, because let's face it, I love to write, and creative writing has always been my forte. The latter because...well, to put it politely, I have an immense and innate talent for warping and twisting the truth to make it sound more favorable. I am not a liar. I just know how to spin things.

So to those of you who know me personally, and those who only know me through my writing...what is your opinion (besides the fact that I shouldn't be basing my major and my career choices on something as whimsical as blog comments)?

I'd love to be half as talented as Dave Barry

I realize that this is completely making fun of people like me. And yet, what good is life if one cannot laugh at herself?

Alright, alright, slow down.

In the last two weeks, I've found out about two more people from my graduating class that are now engaged. Plus one from the class below me. Add to that the ever-growing list of peers that I know who are already married or engaged...

Am I the only one who is a litle creeped out here?

I can't help but wonder...what's the rush?

We are nineteen, twenty, twenty-one. We have the rest of our lives to make good decisions, as a close friend once said. Why settle down now?

Of course, another friend once told me that when you find the right person, it doesn't feel like settling down. So maybe that's what's happening for those people, I don't know. But how can you honestly know that it's the right person after six or twelve months? Or even if you've only known him or her for two years...and now you're ready for the rest of your lives? It just doesn't make sense to me.

Maybe it's just me. Maybe I'm less of a romantic than I thought. If that's the case, well...I hope it won't always be that way.