So right now... I’m 23 years old. I’m at that broke but fabulous stage in life. It’s a love and hate relationship I have with this year. I mean I love my life. It’s so much fun and I am very blessed and fortunate... BUT I am broke as shit and I am trying to figure out when that turns around? When do I get my life together? I have a job in event planning and management which is what I like to do but I can’t even live off this. Just recently moved back home until I can find a room for rent or roommates who are in the same financial stall as me. I’m always playing catch up on my bills, living paycheck to paycheck and I am unable to do one thing that I love most in this life....TRAVEL. I don’t have a dime in savings and I keep procrastinating that process to start saving. So like I said, when will this phase end? People say “I was the exact same when I was your age...” which doesnt help one bit. I dont wanna wait until I’m 30 to buy all the clothes I want and go to all the places I wanna go. I want to do it now!!!!! Life is ridiculously hard I swear they do not prepare you for this in high school nor college. Like... LIFE IS PRETTY FUCKING EXPENSIVE. Even if I did make more money... I could find a place to live, but how will I eat? Will I be wearing the same dress to work every other Tuesday? But besides all this complaining and confusion I feel, I am blessed & I love my life.
You don't have to change who you are to have somebody like you. You don't have to put any false pretenses, either. You can just learn to be yourself. Be genuine. That's what transcends appearances, mannerisms and all things artificial.
Sometimes, it hits you at full force. And other times, it's just a fragment of the past. Sometimes, it matters, intensely. And other times, it's just a fleeting memory. And yet, at times, you feel pulled back to where it all started, but then you forget, and you want to keep moving forward.
Sometimes, it's a battle between the past, the present and the future. Sometimes, it's even a fight between "things you could've changed" to "the way things are now". Just sometimes.
It's a badly scrambled ramble of words, but this is really how post-grad feels, for many of us, I think. At times, I really, really miss the past four years - they were the best four years of my life. I miss the people, who were some of my closest friends that I couldn't have even imagined that I had made. And the moments. The firsts of firsts and then the lasts of many lasts.
Even though I could count them on my fingers, in college, I knew I had people I could depend on. Whether it was to make me feel better, to laugh with amongst all the struggles, to share the pains, to grow with, and to keep charging forward - I knew they were there. Two years of growing up, and two years of having the best time of my life. College was a safe haven, and nobody knew what the real world was going to bring (hint: nothing pretty).
Last summer was, literally, the best. I laughed so, so many times. I danced and shook my hair every other night. I sang and played ukulele out on the lawn with a vivacious smile. I literally didn't think the world was ever going to end. And so, I drank. From tequila shots to fishbowls to vodka cranberries, I drank it all. I bar hopped from one end to another. I don't even know how much I personally contributed to downtown in entirely (hint: it also wasn't pretty). Meeting random people at house parties and then becoming the best of friends with them, in one night over Taylor Swift. This shit doesn't happen after graduation (I guarantee this).
I remember thinking I was invincible. I was at my peak. This eternal blissfulness was going to last forever (or so I thought, and believed, so, so naively). I came in thinking I couldn't take Sorority girls or Frat guys seriously. I also didn't believe in drinking alcohol, because I thought it was toxic and unhealthy and not a "good thing to partake in".
Undergrad, thank you for teaching me not to judge books by their covers. While I don't naturally gravitate towards all things greek, I learned to appreciate people for who they are - and nothing else. Beauty and appearances are artificial. Judging is also artificial.
I remember playing in my last concert, hanging out with my dorm kids, even though I struggled writing my faux thesis and doing logic projects on the side. Even though I didn't graduate with a 4.0, even though I didn't write the best papers or do the best research, I learned. About topics, academia, people, faces, places, how to live. How to form friendships. How to go through agonizing heartbreaks. How to go from lows to highs. In semesters.
That is what college taught me.
And that is why I constantly find myself battling between past, present and the future. My four years, my past was fantastic. But my present is complicated. Post-grad will never be college, no matter how hard we all try. People have obligations (aka: their jobs), everyone is busy, and time is a sacred commodity (case in point, it's already almost 6pm). There is no luxury for procrastination. Work forces us to either "get our shit together" and perform at peak or fall to the bottom, the bottom of it all.
For the past few weeks, I've been taking it rough. Had a shitty week at work, and haven't felt productive enough, or solid enough to write or reflect. Instead, I let it out on the people I care the most about, and I made people cry, and that is so, so not fair - for me or for anyone else.
The truth is: I don't really love California. And I probably never will. It's true that places don't entirely "change" us, but I'm a New York girl at heart, and I know it. That's the truth. I will work in fashion and I will attend fashion week. I will. I will go to business school in New York. I will work in luxury goods in the big apple.
Technology isn't really it for me. Since coming here, I have come to appreciate the start-up and entrepreneurial culture, and also the innovation and the interconnectivity that tech brings - cool stuff. But I'm not a big fan of my job, or the fact that I feel smothered by a lack of agency or that people perceive me as a little girl. I know I have the ambition to make it, and make it big. But my downfall is my tendency to get "lost in it all", lose my focus, and fall hard with long-term procrastination. So I slide (barely) by with low motivation and zero degrees of self-motivation.
I guess that is just post-grad in a nutshell. You fall hard. You get back up. By yourself. You do this many, many times. Until one day, you just get it. And get it so well that you can just keep going forward.
I have to keep this in perspective: college was a phenomenal experience, I wouldn't change it for the world (although, sometimes I would, such as taking an extra year). But I'm a firm believer in the saying that "everything happens for a reason". Maybe I was having too much fun, or maybe I was supposed to learn other things that college couldn't provide. Maybe I needed to move to a new place. And Maybe it's time to fully embrace California.
When things are optimal and everything is fine and dandy, I tend to do great. When things aren't, I tend to hit rock bottom. But maybe this is how I'll learn to be successful and develop the ability to persevere and achieve my next round of goals (business school, fashion in New York). Maybe California is needed, because maybe this is how I'll finally get there.
Going through tough transitions will only make us stronger. Maybe this is what California was, is and will be all about. Maybe this is how I will become the best person that I can be. Maybe, just maybe.
Nostalgia hits, and it can be hard, full-on and incredibly heavy. But it can also remind us of the good times, of the most amazing experiences that we've ever had (that's why we miss it right?), but maybe it can also serve as a motivator to drive us to have new "nostalgia". And we can't do that by continuously being stuck in the past now, now can we?
It's time to go forth, and move on. I'll always welcome nostalgia back with open arms, but your friends will always be there for you. And your favorite study spots, dorms, houses (hey there tuba house!) and bars will always be there for you too.
Sometimes, it's really really hard to make sense of "why things happen", and sometimes transitions can be long and hard and take time. But sometimes, you also need to write (do it), drink too much tea, smile even in the midst of feeling off, and maybe then, that's how we'll all learn to go forward. I mean, after all, I could be in Kansas post-grad. And I would much rather be in California.
New York, give me four years. I will be there for you. And I'm sure it will be the most amazing, gratifying experience at last.
Maybe New York needs me when I'm in my mid-20s. Maybe California is for me, come young 20s. New York, just wait. I'll be there for you.
Until then, California, I will just have to make the best of you. And my hand-shaped home, I will always, always call you home.
You're only in your 20s once, so why not?
I'm going to get highlights, paint my nails neon pink, drink coffee, write about random things, the stupidest of things, put on mascara, wear red lipstick, play guitar at coffee shops, start a fashion blog, move to San Francisco, climb to the top of my career, get into Columbia business school in New York, work in fashion, become the next Angela Adhrents.
And fuck it.
I'm going to take vodka shots, dance with cute guys, permit myself to do some major self-love, be okay with seeing and accepting that I have flaws, stop over-thinking and critically analyzing everything, stop being conscious (what? what does this even mean), permit myself to like someone.
Give myself permission to show my feelings. Letting others see me without my guard. Letting myself just let things be. Realizing there isn't always a logical explanation for everything, letting things happen.
Giving myself permission to want to make out profusely with someone and letting me show someone else that I want to do the same things too. Letting myself "go" and enabling myself to tell someone I like someone too.
But I also can't say that I'm beaming with smiles.
Or that my life is full of SkinnyGirl margaritas every five minutes, either. I'm on polar ends of the "post-grad" happiness level right now. On one end, I'm extremely fortunate and lucky to have a job right now. And especially one that has given me flexibility, challenge and responsibility. Not many first-jobs can really compete (honesty times two). And I got to move. Come on now.
But, it's also not exciting. It's not sexy, and it's definitely not glamorous. It'll afford me my Michael Kors and countless Vogue issues (that's for sure), but it's not exactly draining in creativity. I don't feel excited everyday to wake up, get up, and go out the door. Getting out the door is a chore.
Lately, I've been really thinking about "the person that I want to be" and where I want to end up. I'm not sugarcoating the truth when I say that my choices stemmed more from practicality, rather than what I really wanted to do.
Here are the facts:
1. I swallow fashion like it's viable source of protein. Streetstyle, beauty products, fashion shows, backstage, models, editorials - everything. It's an addicting addition that I thought was just a unemployable pass-time that I picked up when I was 16. But I can't deny the truth, really.
I'm obsessed.
And at the stage of life that I'm in right now, the only (real) way that I'm going to get there is through b-school, somewhere in New York. That opportunity will open doors, and that's how I'll still be able to sustain myself while doing something like I really, really like.
Right now, it's not that. Like, at all.
2. I love my music and I love my instruments, whether they be a piano, keyboard, guitar etc. I love doing unexpected covers. I love listening to music - real good pieces. Right now, I'm not getting that either.
Once I move, it'll be pretty easy to go to open mics. But I miss the thrill of performing for a group of people who dig your stuff. I miss breaking out in random acapella remixes or sessions off the bat. I really, really miss this. It. I miss performing at local coffee shops, where I half-befriend the people making the sandwiches and then run into them while barhopping. I miss my songwriting class...okay I see where this is going now. Basically, I miss elements of home that I definitely, definitely do not get here.
Being here is great (in some parts). Doing this right now is not fun. There's little (loose translation: none) room for creativity. Everything's set, structured and unless you're the top dog, there's really no space, discussion room, no negotiation area where you can try things and try new creative ideas.
Basically, no one cares about design or aesthetics.
So I end up not really wanting to do anything. I mean, I'm okay, but wow I feel pretty uninspired everything single day. And yes, it takes too much effort to do five minutes of anything.
I'm a little tired of "productivity!" blogs that preach "traits of successful people" and etc etc. Look, if money didn't matter, I most likely would be doing my own thing. I would really like to be a cross between a Rachael Yamagata (music) and a Eva Chen (fashion). I want fun, stimulation, excitement. And guess who gives you that?
People.
It's a fine, hard balance of "doing things that you are passionate about" (alot of my friends went this route and now can't find employment) and "not doing what you are passionate about but earning enough to sustain yourself and move out". There are always going to be compromises, and I get that.
But it's not really surprising that I'm really into, and my areas of forte are, music, fashion, writing.
Yesterday was one of the best nights, in a long time. For once, I forgot about being a "real adult" with real responsibilities and felt like I was back in college, all over again. And it was fantastic. And it was amazing.
Besides consuming a copious amount of alcohol (10 rounds of beer samples, 1 cup of mead, 1 quarter of cheap rose wine, 1 shot of tequila and 3 cocktails of assorted "I don't knows but it tastes damn good"), it was a pretty damn good night.
And of course this would happen to me. Of all the people I would meet, of course, one of them would be from home, another from nearby and a girl from New York. I mean, of all the people in the entire world, of course these would be the people I'd meet. And of course I would have like 6 mutual friends with said person from home and of course ONE OF THEM I WOULD GO TO HIGH SCHOOL WITH and the OTHER WOULD BE SUPER CLOSE FRIENDS WITH ONE OF MY FRIEND CIRCLES WHO I HAPPENED TO MEET THIS SUMMER. THIS IS CRAZY STOP. (Actually don't, because it's been awesome)
We actually all bonded, really, really well. And the highlight was singing my school's fight song on another school's campus and like, not really giving two fucks (at all). For the first time in a long time, I stopped thinking about New York. I stopped constantly reaching towards something that might just be impossibly unattainable. California was starting to make a mark, and I slowly started accepting...that maybe, this was the place I was meant to go after graduation and stay. Just maybe.
Maybe I'm not ready to haul everything up and move to San Francisco, quite just yet. Maybe I secretly miss academia and young, ambitious people who are learning and love learning and being apart of intellectual pursuits. Maybe I don't need to move to a city, New York, any place in particular to be happy. Maybe what I need now more than ever are people, faces. And maybe this place where I'm now will be okay for a while.
And maybe this whole thing called work isn't really where I'm meant to be, I don't know. Maybe I'm just taking things one by one, slowly one at a time. Just maybe.
Yesterday was a fantastic, fantastic night and I couldn't have asked for more in a long time.
Maybe post-grad is really, really terribly hard and scary and weird and anxious and nerve-wrecking, where you're constantly battling between the image of yourself, your friends, self-identity, everything. It ain't easy, that's for sure.
But maybe this is what our 20s is for: to explore, to grow. Maybe college was just a stepping stone, and post-grad is the tunnel that takes us into who we were all really meant to be in the long haul.
Just maybe, indeed. For now, I'll raise my non-alcoholic glass up to you. Cheers.
It seems like the longer you know the people, the more they feel like they have license to fuck with you. And it also seems like, if you're me, the more chances you give people to bypass your boundaries and keep fucking with you. No. Not anymore.
I live by the philosophy that everyone deserves a fair second chance. But when you just keep fucking up? No more chances. No more. It’s not like there hasn’t been a conversation - there’ve been several. You know your issues. You know what made me upset. I have done more for you than most people would do for their siblings. And we’re not related honey.
So I would assume that you would know to “oh shit, this is serious. Don’t fuck up the next time”. But you still do. Yeah, there are little teeny tiny “improvements”, but what part of “your friendship is like a string right now and about to snap” and “oh shit, the next time I better skip the whole ‘hey I’m making an improvement!’ and go straight into ‘I REALLY better not fuck this up, at all” do you not understand?
A sane person can really only give someone else SO many chances. Tired of le bullshit - the same one, everyday.
You are unreliable, undependable and take way more in than you give out. And then when someone else does the same thing to you, you get upset, without realizing that you’ve been doing the same thing to them, since, day, one.
I wish you luck in whatever you do, but this door is closing because I’m tired of dealing with the same problems, over and over again.
Fairness has been given, it’s you who won’t go forth. Peace.
Unless you initiate the next conversation with me, honey we're done.
Half of a friend is being there for someone (emotionally). The other half is actually fucking showing up (physically).
