I just got back from hanging out with a co-worker from Chef’s Expressions; one who struck me as being very bubbly, energetic and funny. But she had some experience under her belt and I appreciated that. We chilled tonight at her place in Towson, and watched Pacific Rim which was as good a Guillermo del Toro film that we were willing to watch that night.
The past two months have consisted of me working the weekdays as a landscaper at Greenfields Nursery at the intersection of Northern Parkway and Falls Rd and working as a caterer for Chef’s Expressions based in Timonium. I have worked in two of the largest service industries and I have loved the work. I respect hard workers and those who are devoted to bettering oneself in a given task and learning how to truly improve. That can apply to a certain skill, discipline, mental capabilities, and physical capabilities. However, I rarely judge anyone based on wealth and perceptions of background alone and that is what has irked me for the past two months. I somehow felt that the guests whom we served and the clients whose lawns we’ve scaped always looked down upon us. It was almost as if they felt that since they were giving us green paper in exchange for our services that they were better than us. I have felt it when they would appear to be uncomfortable looking at us in the eyes or being rude and bossing us around when they felt that something was amiss.
I also hear a lot of crap talk about one of the members on the crew who is Mexican. He is over 30 years old and has a bunch of funny and mainly stereotypical idiosyncracies. Sometimes he’ll burst into a Dora the Explorer song, Shakira song, or shout out a string of random, basic spanish phrases. Despite his less than stellar English, my conversations with him have convinced me that he is very wise. He has instructed me in the ways of landscaping many times and always has this creative solution to landscaping and an eye for aesthetics and completion that not many people have. Then we have the 19 year old who already has a 6 month old baby to take care of who still acts like a stubborn kid who would rather make it big in the music industry rather than compromise for the more stable 9-5.
I work with these two and two guys from Boys’ Latin who are both the foremen and younger than me. And despite my likes and dislikes about them they hold my respect for different reasons and so much more so than the respect I feel towards most of the clients whose grandiose houses and lawns fail to impress. I mean when you think about it, is it more impressive that someone pays some money to people who will get a mis-matched crew of misfits who somehow make a yard look beautiful and professional. We’ve even been judged at the beginning with some customers referring to us as “you people” or asking if our boss would supervise us to make sure that we did a good job. The good thing is that we usually impress our clients enough from their low expectations at the beginning that we get some tips.
The worst people usually come from the high end clientele for catering. Aw man it’s really funny sometimes hearing us being looked down upon or judged simply because we are serving you food. It’s true that most of us would never be able to afford it, but we get paid to serve you food that we are able to eat for free during our meal breaks. And it works out, because the money made from one day catering would still not be enough to pay for one guest at that same event. Tonight was when it really hit me. We were packing up from a catering event at CenterStage and using the elevator to bring our heavy carts down to the first floor, and an older man walked up to me and asked if there were any stairs to get to the fifth floor because “you people” were holding up the elevators. He was an asshole and his reaction just made me laugh. I wasn’t in the least bit intimidated by him and he appeared to be very entitled. And then there was the oe of the event speakers hanging out in the catering makeshift kitchen on the second floor. One of the chef’s asked him what his speech was about and he responded with, “Social justice.” When pressed for more information he just replied with “Well it’s a talk about social justice,” as if the chef wasn’t smart enough to understand the specific bits about his speech. That infuriated me that he was acting hypocritical and not giving someone part of his time because she was a person who was curious about helping and learning more about an issue that she believed in.
And so there are those whom I respect. These are the hard, sincere workers who are true people. I like people who challenge themselves and look for growth and change when things become too stagnant. I like the challenges of thinking on one’s own feet, the smell of good tilled earth, and the taste of butler passed hors d’oeuvres on my tongue. So here’s to the people who work behind-the-scenes for not that much money but have a life much more varied, interesting, and richer than some of the ignorant clients whose vapid interests I usually serve.
P.S. – I found out tonight that this one caterer whom I had served with several times had passed away this past friday. She had always struck me as an odd caterer who always asked such weird questions with redundant answers and sometimes doing things wrong. But she was also involved with high school literature and a girl scout troup that she was involved with. I remember that the last time I saw her I told her that we should exchange emails so that I could learn more about the programs that she was involved in. She was very odd and very weird and annoying at times, but as one of my co-workers put it, “She was one of the constant personalities of the Chef’s family.” I had the pleasure of being a part of this dysfunctional family, and for that I give them my respect. Here’s to you Ellen.
So it’s 3:02am December 26th, 2012, or at least that’s when I started this blog post. I feel as if in past years I would have made a big deal out of writing a blog post the minutes before midnight before my birthday, or during the actual Christmas Day when I could have made some sort of post about being thankful and Christmas spirit.
This usually happens during break; I end up playing a metric shit-ton of video games and eating a boatload of food, while musing on my boredom back here. I don’t know, it’s hard to describe because I feel as if I there is so much possibility and freedom to do things here at home. I have a car and I have a lot of free days to do what I did not have time to do with my engineering classes and extracurricular commitments. I think back to my World Religions class where my professor Doc Wise lectured us on one of the core ideals of Zen Buddhism. He tried to instill in us the idea that we usually live our lives from one hope to the next. In other words, we look forward to some future event and try to “get through” our immediate situation, as we strive for that immediate goal. As high school students, our immediate goal was the weekend. I remember those days when the excitement for the week came from the continual looking forward to the upcoming date, sports game, party, get-together, or other event that broke up the ordinariness that came from everyday life. The problem is that we live for that upcoming date, and we initially live in the moment during that time. But then afterwards what do we do then? If we continued to live for future moments and never looked to the current state of affairs in life, then we would never be content with who we were, just being.
I’m having trouble with that right now during break. Actually, I always struggle with that every break. At first it’s wonderful, because I don’t have to wake up early, make any deadlines, or even think a lot. But I usually spend most of the day wondering about what I can accomplish. The only issue is that I cannot immediately think of anything to do, even though I had dozens of thoughts during the school year. I exhaust my ability to play all the video games that I wanted to play, and the groups of friends whom I now hang out with are much smaller in number than they used to be. At the very least I’ve tried a few new cooking recipes, kept a faithful and daily running schedule, slept about 10 hours a day, rekindled valued and old friendships, and turned 22 years old. I always associated my birthday with the holidays, because that’s when everyone is out of school and when the weather is getting cold enough so people just want to come over and celebrate with me.
The one amazing thing that I can honestly write about during this break is about my 22nd birthday. It started on December 21st after I had woken up from an End of the World Party. I just wandered around after a post-hangover morning when I couldn’t stomach anything, including water. I ended up having a great day biking around here and there and having a great birthday lunch at Trident Booksellers and Cafe on Newbury Street in Boston. Later in the day I hung out at the Catholic Center and shared in some traditional Chinese Tea with a Chinese Graduate Student acting as the tea master. I got a bit of a head rush from the caffeine in the tea. The evening turned out to be much more dynamic, because I ran into one of my friends at the BU Barnes and Noble store, while wandering around the fiction section. This friend was buying his Christmas shopping for his friends and family members. I shared some of my favorite fiction novels, and we spent about 2 hours in Barnes and Noble talking about family, how the typical engineer deals with reading, and how I incorrectly thought that he was dyslexic.
I invited him and one of my a cappella group members over to the apartment around 10pm for some late-night hanging out and dinner. We ate some leftover pork roast, fried rice, and green tea as I welcomed the onset of my 22nd birthday. Ah that was a wonderful night. We chilled for a long time, until around 3am, and I was packing the entire time. As usual there were a lot of laughs and it didn’t really hit me that I was saying goodbye to my 21st year of life and moving on. Fortunately, one of my newly made engineering friends offered to give me a ride to the airport at 3am. I was a bit out of it due to a combination of sleep deprivation, lasting hangover effects, and the chilling. I managed to finish packing, and was driven to Logan Airport, where I was stopped at check-in because I forgot to take my Leatherman out of my backpack carry-on. It felt surreal, because I was so exhausted, that I don’t even remember the journey from Boston to Maryland. Rather, I remember leaving my apartment at 3am and getting back to my old house in Maryland around 10am.
The rest of that day consisted of my playing video games, while checking to make sure that my small group of friends were still coming over to celebrate my birthday with me. I prepared by purchasing a handle of gin, a fifth of cream liquor, and some baked cookies. Now this is the important part of the story. This group of friends are some of the closest friends whom I have in life. I remember meeting them back when I was in 5th grade, and we would eat lunch together during middle school. I’ve shared some of our stories on this blog post: camping in Cunningham Falls, Ocean City Senior Week adventures, visits to Boston, and so many more stupid experiences that I would never trade away. So the group consists of:
Me: the typical Asian who is super social and has crazy adventures in weird places of the world
Tyler: the somewhat socially shy at times, but awesome philosophizer and nature boy
Luis: the player and hardworking guy who would make a great dad
Edward: the edgy guy who’s experienced so much more than most of us
Greg: the artsy guy who honestly is one of the best professionally trained artists whom I know
Sean*: an amazing music and sound production guy who’s worked with local Philly greats as well as FUN, Lifehouse, and Kris Allen
(Sean was a recent addition to the group, because only Tyler and I knew him from high school, and he just sort of started to hang out with us, he’s kind of a weirdo but we still love him)
We’ve stated before that we probably all would not have become friends had it not been for us getting to know each other way back in middle school. In the past year there was a bit of a falling out between Edward and some of the group, because we would plan things last minute, and he also had plans with his significant other. This caused Luis to not hang out with Edward as much, and as a results Luis stopped inviting him to our group events, because he thought that Edward didn’t care as much. This saddened me to see such an awesome friendship slowly fall apart.
That was why I made it a priority to have all of them invited to my birthday celebration at my old house. I wanted to have everyone over again, even though some of the group members were not as keen to see each other again. I thought that my birthday, coupled with alcoholic drinks, could change that. At first, there’s a bit of tension because Luis is not really talking to Edward, but we’re all cordial. The majority of us then decide to take the Metro into Baltimore and then go to the pubs and bars in Fells Point, since they have people, are fun, and have cheaper drinks than the bars in the harbor. It’s too bad, because I can’t remember the names of the two bars that we went to. I remember that there was this large Irish man who yelled, “Slainte” to me as I approached him. We sat down, had a few local beers and then headed over to another pub where Luis’ cousin worked. That was where it started to get rough for me because Luis and Edward made it a goal to get me completely wasted since they both were trying to make it up to me after the fiasco of my 21st birthday party the year before.
I loved it, simply because everyone was getting more and more cordial with each other. Sure, the bill totaled to more than $200 for all of our drinks, but being good friends they picked it up for me. We then hopped on the Metro back home, except that we made a lengthy pit-stop at the Greene Turtle in Owings Mills near my house. At this point, I knew that I couldn’t take anymore drinks without risking another horrible hangover morning. Therefore, I proceeded to drink a few more Irish Carbombs, a shot of tequila, Liquid Cocaine (at least I think that’s what it was called), and an Irish Slut. I quietly threw up two times outside near the woods by the parking lot, and I felt so much better. Honestly, it was worth drinking all of that, and getting super drunk to see the group together again as they treated me out to drunken night. We eventually got back home, and I passed out face-down in my empty bedroom as my friends continued hanging out until about 5am. The best gift that I received that night came from what Luis who said, “I think that Ed and I have patched things back up.” I thought so too, and that has made this holiday break worth it.
end, 8:24pm December 31st
It is during the night when the sun has finally set that the adventures and new experiences of life start to sink in. The following is the story of a normal Friday night. It started with the free a cappella concert at 7pm in the College of Arts and Sciences. We were performing with two other a cappella groups in the BU campus. We did a good job and held our own against the other powerhouse groups. Afterwards we all split ways in order to accomplish our respective goals. Half of us headed for the GSU, where we ordered frozen yogurts, ate fast food like french fries, and burgers. Eventually it was just me and this guy left. We talked for a bit then chilled in his place. He had a very clean pad and he dressed up for the party as I waited in his living room. You see, I had already bought the alcohol, but I had not gotten the mixers, so I needed to accomplish that before 10pm, which was around the time when people were supposed to show up. I bought about $12 worth of mixers, and then I returned back to my apartment. I cleaned up a bit, and the people started to trickle in. It was such an interesting night, because of the events that transpired. Honestly, I believe that I totally could have been a cultural anthropologist had I not been an engineer. During most of last night, I hung back with one of my older, fellow group members and witnessed events at the party unfold before us.
Okay so I need an aside for a moment. I have been attempting to write a blog post for the past two weeks, but it’s been a bit difficult with senior project and the prospect of sleeping a lot. I want to write a post that can rival the beauty of moments and for years beyond our college years. I want to record events from a reckless night with such clarity and eloquence that we will look back on some of this vapid nonsense and remember our finite time here. I want to have something more lasting that a few Facebook pictures and posts that show what I did over the past weekend. I want to have a record of real thoughts that signify and show who I really am and what I think about.
Anyways, so the party continued and I was able to notice interesting things. I noticed some members of the male crowd awkwardly hanging out in my room, and acting as if they were about to fight. I noticed random people hooking up, who ideally should not have been hooking up. It is not in my place to stop them, because they have their own free will and I am only here as the host to provide a safe environment for them to to have a good time in. At one point, one of my freshman friends came up to me and told me that he needed my help. I walk with him to the first floor, and he explains that his girlfriend and her friends were here along with several other friends whom they had happened to pick up along the way. I told him that he could let his girlfriend in and only his very best friends. We both go out and I explain the situation to them, and he picks his girlfriend and 4 others, but there’s another girl who was also really good friends with that group, and she says, “Okay guys, I’ll see you around, have a good night.” However, the girlfriend and her friends would not abandon her to roam the streets of Ashford alone, so they too left and my freshman friend had to make a split-second decision on whether or not to stay at the party of leave with his friends. He looked at me, apologized and said, “I’m sorry man, but I can’t leave my friends.” I told him not to worry and that he should stay with them and have a good night. Then they left.
I want to contrast this story with that of another freshman who is not really a good friend of mine, but is a friend of one of my friends and so ends up coming to my parties. He’s a very typical freshman, except that he feels entitled to things at these parties and is not as timid as I was as a freshman. He asks me is several of his friends can come over and prefaces it with the “You can say no if you want to.” And of course I say no, because I don’t know his random friends and they can’t just come over to the party. At one point, they show up at the front door and it almost seems to be a repeat of what happened with my other freshman friend. At this point I tell the group of friends that this is a closed party and that had they come a week earlier, they would have been able to come to the larger Halloween party. They start leaving and I talk to the freshman guy and tell him that he now has a choice to make: either he can leave with his friends and see how the night turns out for him, or he can come inside to the party where he has that one friend who had invited him over in the first place. After looking at his leaving friends and the door to my apartment, he decided to stay inside. He might have even said, “yolo” as we entered back inside.
The disparity between these two freshmen continue even further as the night continues. I mean, both of them were given the choice to either stay here or go with their friends, and I believe that my freshman friend was the one who made the better decision in my own opinion.
As per usual, there were the usual rowdy people who attempted to enter. I saw two random guys walk in through the front door of the communal hallway apartment, and I placed myself in doorway of the inner apartment living room. They walked up to me and I told them to go to the basement. They went down there, where very few people were at the time, and then they left to linger by the communal front door of the apartment. Afterwards, about 3-4 drunk hooligans stumbled through the front door and were attempting to get into the party. They walked up to me as I physically blocked the hallway from them. The ringleader of their pathetic gang was this guy who wanted to know where Tia was. He was under this impression that I was hiding Tia from her and that if any of us were doing that then he would “fuck him up.” To be honest I was a bit scared because I don’t like confrontations with people like this, but I had grown from this and so I looked him straight back and told him that I personally knew every single person who had walked through those doors to come into the party, and that there was no Tia here. They were upset for a while and fortunately I had a sizable group of friends and party-goers who were willing to back me. They eventually left, and I was glad that I was able to stand up to them, because in the past I had trouble with that.
The night then continued along its usual course. The homemade beer bread that I had baked earlier was all eaten, people were winding down from the dancing in the living room, the basement slowly emptied itself, and my a cappella group members chilled in my bedroom as everyone else started to trickle away. As my a cappella group members played Kings, I checked on the rest of the apartment to make sure that everything was in order. I see the guy who had decided to stay about to leave the living room with one of the remaining full handles of vodka. He had hidden it under his shirt, but had to reveal it for a split-second as he opened the door. I approached him and he tried to play it off by saying, “Hey man thanks again for the great party.” I proceeded to escort him to the door as I took the handle of vodka back from him. Then he left.
Around 2:30am the rest of the guests left the party and I started by putting on the Ben Howard/Bon Iver cleaning playlist that usually plays throughout the apartment as I proceed to clean. I also checked my email, and my freshman friend decided to also sent me a Facebook message:
“Hey Marvin, listen, I’m not resentful or angry about anything, and I hope this message doesn’t come across like that, but thank you. I really didn’t want to bring all those people to your house and I really was only planning on bringing my girlfriend, and I mean, this is college, she practically lives with me but you can never be certain of anything, but then I wasn’t sure whether this thing was the a Capellas only, or if we could bring other people, and, well, things got out of hand. I hope you know that I wouldn’t ever try and put you in a situation that compromised you or your apartment, and that’s why I got you before letting any of them in the doorway. I hope you have a wonderful night… I’m sorry for any inconvenience.”
Honestly, I was very touched by this message and thought that it was very beautifully written and mature, especially coming from a freshman. I have so much respect for this guy, whereas I have very little for the one who had chosen to come to my party and then attempt to steal my vodka. Neither of their names are listed here, and neither of them may ever really know what I thought of them, but for my readers, you now can understand how I observe the people at my parties.
I then passed out on my couch until around 5:00am, and then I picked up all of the solo cups, empty handles, half-filld beer cans, empty soda bottles, and random trash. The next step was to do a dry sweep so that any particles can be thrown away in the trash. Afterwards I use a combination of white vinegar, dish soap, scrubbing bubbles, and hot water to create a mopping solution that I then use to clean up the entire floor space of the kitchen, living room, and bedroom. I finish sometime after 6am, shower, and then hop into bed for another well-deserved sleep.
The funny thing is that I have repeated this process every single weekend since the beginning of the semester, because I am one of the few people who has a house with enough space to host parties and lots of people. I feel as if I keep justifying why I write these blog posts. I write because I want my words and thoughts to last even beyond me and beyond my finite self. I want part of me to somehow have an impact on others and to create some sort of echo in eternity. I study mechanical engineering, but my true self lies in understanding how people interact with each other and how to explore this mess of a life. And that starts with first understanding a small part about how a normal night progresses.
So it’s been about a week since I arrived back in Maryland, and it’s been interesting to say the least. I surprised my family by showing up at my younger brother’s high school JV Championship Rugby game. It was surreal to be back in Maryland again, and see old faces of friends and coaches, while simultaneously realizing that I did not recognize any of the players on my brother’s team. What else have I done since then? Well, I’ve hung out with my best friends Tyler, Greg, and Luis, and I even ran a 5k Warrior Dash with them somewhere in Mechanicsville, MD. Aww man, that was definitely a fun experience, especially since I felt more physically fit compared with more than 50% of the other runners. But now I definitely know that I despise mud and dirt. The race started with a jog through a wooded path that quickly became muddy. I was able to dodge most of the mud in the middle of the road, but i eventually got stuck in a few deeper puddles. The rest of the race was decently fun, and filled with twisty pathways and 15ft tall ropes obstacles. However, the most exciting part of the race was the 40ft slip ‘n slide that ran down the length of the hill. I felt re-energized to run the rest of the race, until I made it to the pool of mud that smelled and felt disgusting. But I trudged through it, all the while trying to keep it from coming into contact with my contact lens. Overall, it felt good to do that workout and my friends and I knew that we wanted to do more races in the future.
Then the other day I went to the Towson Bars with Luis and Greg. We went to this one bar that was alright, but way too loud and filled to the brim with way too many biddies. The quieter one more suited to talking and hanging out was the Rec Room near the Recher Theater where I remember watching old high school bands play. The night would have remained relatively uneventful, except that I saw my old middle school classmates whom I had not seen for 7 years. It was odd to recognize them, yet know that so much has happened since the last time I saw them. I mean, I have met people who have changed in the course of a month, and these old classmates have definitely gone through adventures and evolutions of their own nature. I was able to see how they had stuck together as a group of friends similar to how my group of friends back home have stuck together. The rest of the night was spent receiving a warning from a cop because I started driving down the wrong way of a one-way road, and smoking Black and Milds outside on my mom’s apartment balcony well into 4am in the morning.
Today, I checked over the flight itinerary for my departure on Monday May 28th, 2012 to Berlin, Germany for my 3 month internship at the Reiner Lemoine Institute for The Potential of Hydropower Generation in the Caribbean. It’s been a bit stressful, since I do not yet have a specific place to stay in Berlin, but I am hopeful and know that all will be well. I called my credit card company to notify them of my stay, I ordered new contacts, got a replacement laptop battery, and am preparing my suitcase for all of the essentials that I will need when I go abroad. I am excited to leave once again, but I am also nervous and anxious. I am nervous because of change. I fear the change that accompanies any new experience, as well as the change that will occur when I leave. Everything is changing around me, and sometimes it’s too hard to hold on to anything that remains firm and immovable. My friends and the dynamic that I share with them have changed every year, my place of living has changed, and even my outlook on life and personal beliefs have changed. I am definitely not the same person who I was when I started this blog, and I suppose that that is a good thing. I had hoped that this blog could be a chronicle of my experiences, and it has fulfilled that purpose, as well as the purpose of being an outlet for my thoughts and experiences.
I hope to continue using this blog as my outlet for my adventures in Berlin for the upcoming three months, and I cannot wait to share it with the world.
P.S. – Honestly I feel as if my words always fall short of fulfilling my expectations of describing life and experience.
Hey, so it’s been that awkward period between the end of classes and the start of exams. I’ve definitely slept, eaten, and partied it up a lot more compared to my studying but I felt that it was worth it seeing as how difficult this semester has been. I want to enact a small change in the direction that I bring this blog; I want to bring it to a more vivid and visceral level. By that I mean that I would like to explore more of my thoughts in a more spontaneous way such as when I go to a party and see someone whom I would like to hook up with, or when I’m singing at Mass and have a deep thought enter into my head and heart. Since most people don’t read this blog, I have the knowledge that my thoughts will be safe and private will simultaneously remaining open and free to the rest of the world. Will this new step make me vulnerable? Absolutely, but that is how I hope to grow, by making myself vulnerable and growing from that.
Or maybe I’m just sleep deprived after studying Lagrangian Mechanics for 6 hours straight.
So I decided to finally get off the interwebs and the lure of youtube parody videos concerning College Humor, Smosh, The Legend of Zelda, and StumbleUpon in order to do something somewhat productive today. Partially due to the odd circadian rhythm that I had this past semester, I usually fall asleep around 6am and then physically get out of my bed around 2pm. So I get the required 8 hours of sleep, but then nothing else gets done. I have a list of things to accomplish, and so far most of them have not been checked off. Sometimes I go on my midnight runs, which makes me stay a bit active, and yesterday I cleaned all of the keys of my keyboard by soaking them in a lysol and water solution. Wow, now I just sound like I’m giving mundane updates that don’t concern anything. But I feel as if I have to put them down somewhere.
Yet I think that there is beauty even in this: the forgotten hours lazing away with apparent boredom waiting to be occupied with something other than a video game or countless hours perusing, browsing, and surfing through nameless sites. I mean, I always complain about not having the time to sleep or just laze away during the school year. But it’s funny, because I always have something to do or something that I would like to accomplish or work on during the busy days of the school year, but once break hits there is nothing to do. The limitless potential of the internet becomes a vapid sinkhole of unproductivity. It’s a two-edged Skyward Sword (sorry, I’ve been playing Zelda too much), because in one instance I have too much time with too little connections or events to put my skills to use. On the other hand I have too many obligations and not enough time to fulfill all of them to their fullest potential. And that is part of my weakness that is procrastination. I take too much time to do things and put them off. I lose track of time and before I know it nothing of worth is ever accomplished. Things may get done, but not to their fullest potential. It’s something that I have struggled with my entire life, and something that I will never truly get rid of. But I will try my best to curb it. I found out that that the best remedy is by finally sucking it up and fully confronting the seemingly daunting task that is something other than brainless activity. Then it doesn’t seem so bad. It actually seems to be fun. Writing this blog post right now is testament to that, and now I feel motivated enough to go and actually accomplish something such as cleaning out my old desk in my old room as a temporary space to do work and use my laptop.
More posts will definitely come, because this blog keeps me grounded to this reality.
So here I am; I made it back to the 410 in my old house in Owings Mills, MD about to turn 21. And I don’t know how I feel about that just yet. I remember starting this blog pretty much one year ago. And I feel the need to return to it. I just don’t know. I have friends who are already 21 and they can all legally order drinks at the restaurants and bars now. But it’s just that everything is finite. Childhood is becoming a distant memory. I always ask myself the same question every time I reach a new milestone in life: have I done enough? Did I achieve what I wanted to achieve and the goals that I strove for? Oh life. So as a 20 year old I thrived in Germany and in my many adventures there, and then I survived another semester of my hardest year in college (from what I’ve heard from seniors). So then I suppose that life just gets better from here on out? I don’t know, there are a lost of I don’t knows.
I want to look at it positively, but it just feels so permanent. I feel older. I remember the older days, and I remember being younger, even though I am still young. We can’t all remain forever young, and I understand that. What a difference a year makes. What a difference. I look back and remember all the anticipation for my foray into the unknown that was Europe and my study abroad experience. And here I am back in the same household after experiencing and travelling through many dangers, toils, snares, and kilometers. And I will continue to travel these vast distances and make my life have a story worth sharing.
It doesn’t matter if I have or haven’t done a lot of things, because I can remedy that in the future. There is still time, and I look forward to spending it. I made it this far, and I can make it even further. Everything is changing around me, and I am fine with that. Maybe the biggest lesson that I have learned thus far is that nothing stays permanent, and that that is alright. It’s okay. There are good and bad memories, there are good and bad times, and they are all worth it in the end. Haha, that sounds familiar and similar to one of my first posts last year. Well, I still have four minutes left. What shall I do?
I believe that I shall go for a run and start the year off right. Then I’ll play some Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword and then have the best sleep that I have had in a long time. Three minutes left. Usually someone would be taking a shot of some good vodka right now. Two minutes. It’s about time. It’s all about the time. Oooooh I am excited. One minute left. Here we go. It’s almost as if this the exciting end to my 20th chapter, and I can’t wait to turn to the next chapter. Last thoughts? Nope. I’m ready for the next chapter.
I feel infinite.