Thoughts on Apathy

I strive for apathy. I want to be the girl who can play it cool and who is very calm and collected all the time. Unfortunately, I fear that I am the opposite. I am uptight and neurotic. I am anxious about everything from where I stand with people to academics. I often ask myself, if I want to be something else, why it is so difficult for me to just change. Why is it so difficult to truly dedicate myself to becoming the person I want to be? 


Perhaps I am lazy or perhaps I do not really want to change. Maybe I have a masochistic tendency to enjoy my own misery. I sometimes worry that I am too jaded to really become a more calm person. I also feel that my anxiety has been conditioned. My environment plays a huge part in my stress levels and I know that changing will be difficult if I remain in the same place with the same kinds of pressures.


My goals of apathy seem impossible mostly because they feel hopeless. What could I possibly change by trying to be calm? How could I be efficient with a laid-back personality. Even the thought of actually being apathetic puts me under some kind of stress, a sure sign that I am nowhere near my goals. I think I look to the trait of indifference in hopes that it will save me from the burdens of my everyday life. Perhaps I should be looking to another solution, one that is more realistic. I need to be fixed, and I know I am strong enough to do it myself. With patience, and time, if all goes well I know I can figure out a way to find a place in society that I am satisfied with. 

Bob Dylan

As a girl who proclaims her love of classic rock loudly with a certain degree of pride, people are surprised to learn that I have not really heard much Bob Dylan. Or any Bob Dylan really, up until a few weeks ago. One of my friends played a Dylan song expecting me to identify it within minutes like I'd done with Neil Diamond, Eagles, Boston or Queen songs. He was met with a blank stare and refused to believe that I hadn't heard Bob Dylan before. To be honest, I have no specific reason why I haven't listened to Bob Dylan other than it hasn't been presented to me.

I have decided to embark upon a Bob Dylan adventure. I have ways of exploring recently discovered artists, and I like to form my opinions extraneously of pop culture sites like Pitchfork or Rolling Stone. My first step in this process was consulting people I follow on tumblr who has posted about Bob Dylan before. They seemed sufficiently obsessed with him for me to expect an eager response. These were the two responses I received:

 So I downloaded all of Clavicola's suggestions (from iTunes! I don't want to be arrested) and bought Blonde on Blonde yesterday. Right now I have been playing the songs over and over, letting myself feel what they mean and listening to the lyrics. I expect soon I will begin to listen more closely, once I have identified what I feel and what it means. Until then, I hope I have convinced you to explore some Bob Dylan. His music is absolutely beautiful, and although not something I would have originally thought my style, I have fallen in love. I can't believe that I've never experienced Dylan until now but I'm definitely glad I discovered his music earlier rather than later in my life.

Third Form versus First Year

I have reached a conclusion about college residential life that culminated in my experience during my fifth night of interrupted sleep this week. I have had a variety of living arrangements during my academic career. I have lived in the comforts of my own bedroom, with parents to help me out with the gritty details of life like laundry and meal preparation. In Second Form (8th Grade) I lived in a dorm with partitions rather than walls and curtains rather than doors. In Upper School (4th-6th Form) I had a mix of day student roommates, singles and roommates who took semesters off. During my five years at Groton, my Third Form dorm was by far the noisiest dorm that I'd ever lived in. Most of the girls were new, everyone was loud, the walls didn't go all the way up, there were cliques, there was screaming, disobedience towards the prefects and general rowdiness.

I never thought I would reach a point in my life where I missed my third form life. I was generally a very frustrated girl, just emerging out of my naiveté into the self-destructive world of a cynic. As my  year in college has progressed, I have grown to realize something very disturbing. I preferred living in my high school freshman dorm than my freshman dorm in college.


I am utterly shocked that I can even type these words, but as I mourn the lack of good coffee here and  weep about the heavy bags under my eyes that I foolishly highlighted rather than disguised with black eyeliner, I am assured of the truth behind my words.

In third form, I was less irritable, partly due to my youth and empty schedule. On Friday nights, I could expect the girls to quiet down eventually, because no one was out getting drunk and vomiting in the hallways. Lights out and Saturday classes tamed the ruffians of my dorm. Faculty members were often present who could calm the dance parties and explain to the wilder girls, that it was perfectly acceptable for other members of the dorm to want sleep. We were taught to be considerate of others needs. We were taught that although we may not have many commitments and might want to stay up creating a ruckus, we might be ruining things for a dorm-mate if we were too loud. We learned that sharing space was about respect.

It appears that no one has taught college girls any points of consideration. Their time in high school was clearly spent being pampered. I imagine they live in egocentric worlds where rudeness has no repercussions and they are unaware that their actions affect other people. And if they are aware, they do not care. Of course, a rude ninth grader in a dorm has people to teach them right from wrong. They are willing to accept that they are incorrect; even if they moan about it they will eventually realize error in their ways.

College girls believe that they have done it all. I mean they graduated high school. This gives them the right to do whatever they want, whenever they want to. So, sloppy, rowdy, uncouth behavior becomes acceptable while going to bed at ten o' clock becomes anti-social. Good habits become punishable by the general public because the novelty of no parental supervision has yet to fizzle out.

When I was younger we were told that we were being prepared for college. Any Grotonian who stumbles upon this will be familiar with the phrase the "active work of life". If we are to split hairs, I am prepared because I have yet to explode with rage upon the offending parties. I also have found solutions to ensure that I have the sleep that I need, even if many of these solutions inconvenience me. In another sense I am not prepared. I grew up thinking that people in college would be respectful and mature, having gone similar upbringings that valued respect. I expected dorm life to grow up with me, but it apparently has not. Living in a dorm for five years has poisoned my mind against them. Now, there is nothing I want more in the world than an off-campus apartment far away from anything having to do with dorms. I am sick of having to share space with people whose personalities are supported by a foundation of selfishness and disrespect.

Vacation Preparation

Next week, I will be doing the lazy girl routine of taking a flight to an adjacent state to spend ten days with my grandfather. My grandfather lives between two times, I think. He longs for the days when things were simpler so he does not have wireless internet or cable, things I consider necessities rather than luxuries in this modern era. And I admit to being spoiled in that regard.

So here, I am going to write simply how to pack for a ten day trip to the middle of nowhere, where the heating may be low-to-off and entertainment will be entirely up to you.

Clothing
(2) Sweatshirts
(1) L.L. Bean Fleece
All the wool socks
Underwear for each day
(2) pairs of jeans
(1) pair of sweatpants
(1) pair of pajama pants
(4) T-shirts
(1 or 2) pair of long underwear

Bring any personal items that men will not be likely to have on hand.

Entertainment
(1) Journal (I will probably be starting a new one soon)
(1) Kindle - I will have a few books loaded on my Kindle for the trip

• A Brave New World
• Lolita (Nabokov)

(1) Computer
Chargers of all varieties!
(3) Favorite Movies
(1) Cellphone

Do not forget to spend time with your relatives! But sometimes alone time can be refreshing.

The Question of Lita's

I recently discovered what these shoes were called after secretly admiring them on tumblr for a while and of course, my soul is consumed with lust. I think I lust after a pair of these more than I have lusted after any boy, and I say this with complete confidence that this is not an exaggeration. (I mean, I do have priorities).

So I'm trying to determine pros and cons here, and figure out whether or not it's worth it for me to get these shoes. I love everything about how they look from the different colored heel to the shape and the platform, but somehow I can't justify buying them for two reasons.

Reason number 1 is I'm worried about my ability to actually walk effectively in heels. If I can't walk in these shoes, it's very likely that I won't wear them. If it's icy and I can't walk in heels, the chances of me wearing shoes like this plummet even further.

Reason number 2 is I think they would be wasted in a climate like this. Vermont is inhospitable in every way. I seriously doubt that early man even colonized this state and if they did without modern technology, I am impressed.

So alas, I am afraid I have concluded that I must remain without Jeffrey Campbell's Litas. But I urge other people to go out and buy them in my honor, especially if you live in cities or towns where civilizations were meant to exist. Whenever I see a pair on the street, I will be sure to gawk in admiration, secretly wish that I owned them. I mourn the loss of my ability to own impractical but gorgeous footwear. C'est la vie de une Vermontere. (Caution: this is very likely not real French. It's been a while.)

Gastroenteritis Crisis

I have been struck down with Gastro for the past day and a half. Once my life is in order I will continue to write.

Until then, cheerio.

xx

The Spread of Disease

Right now I am spending most of my time trying to avoid getting gastroenteritis which is quickly spreading around campus. It has hit my dorm finally and I now fear the bathroom, and most people I encounter every day. I am convinced that hydration and strong will-power will prevent the disease from victimizing me but this is not a fool-proof method.

Fun fact: Ex-President Zachary Taylor died in office of gastroenteritis. I had it once during fifth form and I vowed I would never repeat that experience again. I don't want to write for long because I'm working on a much bigger post that I hoped would be ready today.

However, yesterday I spent my day involved in a movie marathon rather than being productive. Today, I must pay the price by posting a small amount and then continuing to work on more difficult writing projects.

I have yet to start my new book, Brave New World by Aldous Huxley but be sure that when I start and finish it, I will write a review about it here.

Dune - A Review

Two days ago I finished Dune, and found it to be everything I'd expected based on what I'd heard. This science-fiction story set on Arakkis, a desert planet was perfectly written. The story also had an interesting and brilliantly set-up plot. The first hundred pages or so were confusing, but as I delved deeper into the novel, the confusing portions fell into place. The characters developed and changed appropriately with the plot and there was enough action to keep me reading into the wee hours of the morning. I've found that in more modern adventure stories, there is adherence to a specific plot formula, but no real skill in the manipulation of vocabulary. These stories are only stories, generational fads that will not be as timeless as Herbert's novel. Dune contains more than just a plot which is one of the reasons I liked it so much. I highly recommend this book; it can go quickly if you dedicate time to it, and it really is a must-read for everyone interested in the science-fiction genre.

Response From a Lost Cause

It's not how you feel about me that really affects me. I mean, we barely know each other. If I had to let every minor acquaintance determine how I felt about myself, I'd be in serious trouble. I'm not going to pretend I wouldn't like to know you better. In fact, I am fascinated by you. I am interested in hearing what you think and listening to you tell me about what you do. Realistically, I know I will find other boys interesting in the future. I will give up on trying to get to know you and move on as I should. I find myself interested in a lot of people regardless of whether or not I choose to express it aloud. However, I am still upset, to a point that is uncharacteristic of me, especially since I generally do not buy into caring what other people think of me. 

Over the course of a day, during which I watched Henry V and engaged in some serious silent contemplation my mind wandered across an answer to my current state of existential distress. What I am really concerned with is my view of myself. I am lost, often sad, and it is really painful for me when I think someone is giving me a chance, but it turns out they view me the same way that everyone else does. I can't expect you to have known how hopeful I was that someone would give me a chance and realize that I am not entirely malicious. I have good intentions that are sometimes misplaced and very often ill expressed. I have a separation in my mind that separates my vulnerable self and my tough cynical self and I rarely mix up the two personas. In retrospect, it was unfair of me to expect that you understood me. People rarely do. They either put up with me or they don't.

When I heard the words "lost cause" leave your mouth, I think I was too surprised to retaliate properly. Normally I can defend the stupid things I say, or at least explain them so people understand that I don't intend to be a jerk, words have a persistent way of twisting what I actually want to say. At the very least, I snap back with a retort to disguise the fact that my feelings are hurt. People think I'm tough, that I have a fuck-all attitude. When I'm genuinely surprised, I can barely formulate a sentence. A"lost cause"? Really? 

It's funny how a particular phrase someone says to you hurts you more than all the direct insults you have ever heard. A juxtaposition of two random words can reduce you to tears, move your soul, shake you to your core and make you unsure of yourself in a way you haven't been in a while. Another funny thing is, it's always the "nice guys" who think that they are so much better you that end up hurting your feelings the most. They feel that they deserve so much because they hold a door open, they don't point out that you look fat in a dress or they listen to your ramblings without interruption. All hail nice guys, and their complete ignorance to the fact that some people have flaws and cannot move through the world like delicate and perfect flowers.

This pervasive sense of superiority causes so called nice guys to think they deserve constant appreciation to the point of worship. They are a hero complex and a god complex meshed together. Nice guys believe themselves to be Deus Ex Machina to the life of every girl they meet. They are so nice that they consider themselves champions for social justice, equality everywhere! Don't be such a bitch. Everyone deserves to be treated fairly. All people are equal. 

Let's count the nice guys who pay attention to a girl who likes them if she isn't also drop dead gorgeous or practically perfect in every way. Where are the nice guys who date any girl less than the image of perfection they feel they deserve? If you can find one, I will amend my statement, assume humility and resume silently hating the world instead of brazenly pointing out the faults everyone notices but no one talks about. 

Of course, it's nice guys who think me to be a "lost cause". But if I flee, devoting my attention to the mean guys who are at least upfront about being jerks, then I am insane, masochistic, just like every other girl. No one can see what I see in them. No one understands why I need to be friends with someone who treats me like crap. Why can't they see? Why can't they understand? In the end, it's the same thing. I am either led to believe that someone can see past my façade of cold-heartedness only to be crushed, or I am provided with a clear preview of what kind of treatment I will receive and I can choose from the very beginning whether or not I want to put up with it.

Before, I really thought about my propensity to cling to guys who are mean, as friends, infatuations etc. and I really have wanted to change. I thought I was trying. I thought I was succeeding a little bit; apparently I was mistaken. I am starting to lose even more hope that I will end up with someone nice. I think perhaps I am destined for a future with someone I don't even love for the sake of stability, desperation or just loneliness. Maybe everything about me is a lost cause. 

I try to solve my problems but again and again I am unsuccessful. Each attempt at being happy is a dismal failure. My heart is broken in so many ways (only a few of them being actually romantic) that I worry there is no way left for me to repair myself and be the person I want to be. I want to be the girl of my emotional upswings, but it's so hard when you think no one believes in you. Everything I want to do is so hard to do alone. I suppose I have made some progress; a glimmer of hope buried deep within my crappy mood is telling me not to give up yet. Giving up seems like such a sweet relief. It is a difficult temptation to avoid giving into, especially since I am so weak.  

Trouble

Over the past two days, I have had some trouble coming up with something to write about. I know that I promised I would try to inject more of myself into this blog. This may partially be the cause for my writers block, but I fear my writers block is a part of something else as well. Recently, I have been thrust out of my depressive element into a state where happiness is the norm. I have been unconcerned with commitments, spending time alone or having  a lot of homework; my main sources of stress have been acknowledged and their effects on me diminished.

This is a new sensation for me, especially three days in a row. Like every proper cynic, I am having doubts that this will last and getting scared that something will ruin this new state of joy. In the past, when things have gone well fro me, one of my first reactions has been to try to mess it up on purpose. Sabotage is one of my specialties, especially when it comes to my own life. But if I plan to turn over a new leaf, I have brilliantly determined that I can no longer continue this pattern of sabotaging my life.

I need to convince myself that I deserve a chance at happiness. I need to convince myself that it is not my job to punish myself for things I have done in the past. If there is a god, I need to leave the punishing up to him. If there is karma and cosmic intervention, it is not my duty to assist them. If I want to start living like an adult, I need to start acting and thinking like one. I must convince myself that I am not the only one to estrange a friend through my own selfishness. I am not the only one to mistake loneliness for love. I cannot be the only one to tell a lie to get myself out of trouble. I cannot be too hard on myself.

But, being hard on myself has gotten me far in life. I am relatively successful academically (although far from perfect), I have a few close friends who I can trust and who can trust me back, and I have a good relationship with my family. But of course, with every success, there is a price I pay. Nothing I do is good enough. To me, each success doesn't represent the end of something; my work is never complete and I have to keep pursuing something until I die. A world where I am not working towards a goal is one I cannot fathom.

There is a point where being too hard on yourself can damage you. Hard workers and perfectionists everywhere can relate to the feelings of never being good enough, of feeling constantly overwhelmed, obsessing over small details and making personal sacrifices for the sake of appearing competent. I wonder if I am reaching a point where I am just overwhelmed by my own personality. Have a reached a point where I have given up on conforming to the blanket statements of "perfectionist" or "overachiever" and all I want is to be happy?

I feel damaged and exhausted. I am in the middle of my education, an education that will last for about another ten years and cost more money than I can even dream of having right now. I am worried that I am spending the last years I will ever be allowed to be carefree dwelling on the human condition and worldly unhappiness. Maybe a part of my philosophical enlightenment will be to realize that being unhappy and depressed about the human condition will do nothing to change it. Feeling sad all the time will not make me more significant. Perhaps my "purpose" is to focus on tangible, permanent happiness.

Genuine happiness is an interesting concept. The Greek concept of "Eudaemonia" is what I have in mind when I define this "genuine happiness". (If you don't know what this is, consult your nearest expert on philosophy or Google.) I want fulfillment in every way. Right now, I think I am getting a taste of what this happiness is like. I think I am on the right track to the coveted state of Eudaemonia. 

I can feel the warmth in my skin. I can feel the radiation on my face as I walk from place to place. I can feel my mind rejecting negativity and projecting confidence I didn't know I had. I find myself less concerned with being exceptionally beautiful and more concerned with feeling comfortable. I am not scared of social rejection; I have survived this long in incredibly worse social situations. Temporary loneliness will not ruin me. I am worried about failure, but I am also realistic about how failure happens and how to avoid it. I know studying for my Arabic test today is more beneficial than talking to a boy I have a crush on. If I acknowledge my power of choice and accept responsibility for my mistakes, then I have no reason to feel disappointed in myself for anything that I have earned.

I view this as a significant step towards growing up. I have no self-assuredness or steadfast plan towards happiness like adults seem to have, but I am slowly working my way to that point. I want to be mature, successful, happy and in control of my life. Growing up is figuring out what exactly that means, and that is what I'm doing now.

Winter Term Reading List

I am using J-term as a time to catch up on a mixture of pop culture reads that I have neglected as well as classics that any nerdy person should have already read. I'm going to publish a list of ten books to read this winter, based loosely upon the books I plan to read myself.

(1-3) The Hunger Games Trilogy: The Hunger Games, Catching Fire, Mockingjay
These books are really cheap on Kindle right now, and sweeping the nation especially since the movie is coming to theaters in March. They are easy reads and really entertaining so you have time to read them all before the movie hits the box office.

(4) Dune
I have never read Dune, which is embarrassing to admit. It is alas, the truth, so I plan to plow through it this winter. I know nothing about Dune really except that it is a fiction reading requirement. I may update this recommendation after I have read it though.

(5) The Sound and the Fury
If you haven't read it yet, the winter is an excellent time to begin. It's really difficult to get through, so if you want to get complete understanding without the help of a class discussion, I would dedicate at least a month of steady reading and analysis.

(6) 1984
There's nothing like good dystopian literature. 1984 is a classic. If you are older than fifteen and haven't read it yet, hang your head in shame and proceed to the nearest bookstore to pick it up.

(7) War of the Worlds
Yet again, I'm embarrassed to admit that I read this book after seeing the Tom Cruise movie. The two are completely different. There are parts of this book that I found hilarious, and it is an easy read. I like HG Wells style because it is simplistic without sounding idiotic.

(8) The Remains of the Day
I was really surprised by how good this book was. If I had to describe the plot to you, it wouldn't even begin to capture Ishiguro's talent or the essence of the story. I really liked this book, and I found it an uplifting winter read during my junior year. I recognize that many of the books on this list have the tendency to put you down but this book is not as depressing.

(9) Anna Karenina
This is another book that is an all-winter-long project. This is a result of the length and not necessarily the complexity. It's a great story though, and the build up is entirely worth the ending. By the time you are done reading it you will realize that every one of Tolstoy's words is necessary in giving you total understanding of the story he is trying to tell as well as the context it is set in.

(10) Uncle Tom's Cabin
Although I would be shocked if someone hasn't read Uncle Tom's Cabin, that makes it an even better addition to this list. My 1900s edition of this book is well thumbed, and for good  reason. This is one of the greatest books I have ever read and it's the right mix of emotionally charged and historically relevant.

Making it Personal.

I have had yet to work up the courage (or the egotism) to blog as if this were my personal diary. I leave out feelings, talk of my daily life and my interactions with other people. I generally prefer to expand upon less personal thoughts I have - many of them are related to some form of social justice or things I have noticed that I find interesting.  Sometimes I will vent my frustrations about the way the world works or how I perceive my place in the world. I wonder if what I'm doing is healthy, using this place for venting and keeping my emotions distant. One of my biggest criticisms in a writing workshop elective (Expo to any Grotties that come across this) I took as a senior was that I was "too impersonal" and "could have said more about myself".

I wonder if this is a significant criticism. Am I really too impersonal, and if I am, does that really bother people? Do readers actually want more of my personality injected into my writing?

I believe that good writing is about taking risks. Many writers play it safe, using vocabulary they are comfortable with and writing in a style often intended to imitate a famous author whose style they find strikes a balance between comprehensible and beautiful. In my writing, I like to mix up playing it safe and taking risks. A risk for me, is not editing my work before publishing it and letting my loose thoughts fight to the death for significance. Playing it safe is keeping my writing void of real emotion. My thoughts and opinions do not feel personal to me. I rarely keep my opinions a secret unless I am speaking to a complete stranger so sharing them is hardly risky.

Emotions on the other hand are tricky. I hate talking about how I feel towards other people, or how I feel about particular events in my life. I can say passively, "I failed a test today, so I plan to work harder because I believe that failing a test is unacceptable". However, I will rarely risk saying how I feel about failure. "I failed a test today. It reflects how lazy I've been feeling recently. I feel like everyone will think I am stupid if they find out. I am worried about it. I want to work harder, but I don't know if I can because there are so many other things going on, and I'm not sure if this test even matters compared to these other things and I don't know what to do, and I think I'm going insane because does anyone else get so anxious about one stupid test?" You get the point.

Perhaps the root of my hesitation lies in insecurity. I am worried about what people will think about my feelings. I am worried that people will think I am crazy or worse, confirm my fears that my feelings are  something to be mocked and laughed at rather than acknowledged as genuine aspects of my personality.

As of today, I've decided to start taking more risks with what I write here. At least once a week, I will try to write about something real that I'm feeling. I want to acknowledge the fact that I have emotions and find the courage to write about them. My goal with this blog is to work on my abilities as a writer, and this will be largely futile if I withhold a part of myself.


P.S. I really hate titles, and I'm sorry that all of them are horrible.

For West Indian Girls

I'm writing for the island girls who choose to go out and explore the world. I speak from experience when I say it's one of the hardest things you can do. You never realize how much you need the familiar until you are isolated from it. Even if it is an isolation you choose, you never realize the profound effect the island had on you and everything about you.

You never realize how much you would miss the little things. Ackee season, swimming at the Aquatic Center and Alliance Française become distant memories you wish you could revisit with the same innocence as before. You wish you could be unaware of a cutthroat world, where people don't care about each other the same way and family is a burden people can choose not to experience. Just the word family doesn't have the same connotation and you are thrust into a world where you have to create a family out of nothing. And this new family could never dream of having the same strength as your family back at home.

Then there will always be the question of whether or not leaving was worth it. There are times when you can feel so alone; without the sun beating down on your back as you watch your parents struggle to keep you help you be successful it is easy to lose sight of why you left. I am writing this with the intention of  comforting you, and tell you it will all be worth it. I want to assure you that leaving was a good idea because you can always come back after you see the world. However, I am still grappling with questions regarding my personal decision to go abroad to study. Can you ever really come back? Is it really worth it to leave in the first place?

Although we hate the frigid winters, the rude people, the bland food that any West Indian mother would be embarrassed to put on the table, we know that we are abroad for a reason. We may lose sight of why exactly when things get hard but we know that a good reason exists.

When we were children we dreamed of a better life. We didn't want the same boring jobs as our parents and wanted to make enough money to move from our communities to the mansions and villas of the local upper class. Who could predict that fending for yourself could be so hard and quitting would mean not only letting yourself down but everyone else around you. Everyone wants to be a success story: from SJC to the US to the house in Cap with frequent vacations in Florida.

None of us predicted the difficulty we would have assimilating. Although no one wants to say it, it's a race thing. From your hair to your accent everything that was once common and embraced becomes a feature of the minority.  What happens is different from oppression though; it's more of a painful suppression. In order to fit in, you must assimilate. Sucking your teeth becomes "whatever" and "bon djay" becomes "OMG!" Your colloquialisms are suddenly smoothed over with proper grammar slowing down your thoughts before they can escape and mellowing out your culture towards the monochromatic.

It's hard to explain to foreigners why you want so desperately to move back despite all the hardships you had at home. They don't understand. They see you as a lucky immigrant who happened to be "smart enough" to leave. They think their world is more advanced. Thank God you escaped the third world! You might smile and nod as they subtly denigrate the only place you've been sure that you belonged in, but you are filled with a painful nostalgia that can only be shaken off one way.

But, you grew up in the West Indies for a reason. There is a reason for everything that has happened to you and there is a reason you are trying to make a different life for yourself. You know about the increased crime rate amongst the youth. You know that there are few high powered jobs and your only hope of a better life for yourself and your family is business, law or medicine. You no longer want to accept mediocrity.

You grew up on in the West Indies because you are supposed to be strong. You are more resilient than most. You were raised with a West Indian work ethic. Failure and setbacks don't screw us up, but encourage us to work harder. West Indian girls don't give up and never will. Colleges can reject us and we might fail a class, but we will never stop working. It isn't in our nature to give up, to take rejection laying down. No matter how we have struggled in our past lives, whether you grew up in the Fond or in more developed areas, you are built with the most important element of success coursing through your veins. Other people just want to become successful, but you need it. Failure is an option only for those with a safety net, something you don't have the luxury of having.

So here's to the island girls, for being resilient and strong. For being beautiful and amazing. For holding on to their culture and morals even when surrounded by temptation. Here's to the island girls for caring about family more than anything in the world and sacrificing their own happiness for the good of the people they care about at home.

So, when things get hard, remember the way the sun feels on your back, and the way the ocean feels when it seeps through your hair and washes over your skin. Remember why you are wherever you are and continue to pursue your hopes and dreams. You know that giving up is never an option, and I need you to remember that during the most difficult times.

Things to Do During Winter Term if You Hate the Outdoors

I grew up on an island in the Caribbean yet chose to spend the greater portion of my academic life in a place that snows and has winters that last well into when I believe spring should begin. This semester, winter seems colder and more brutally depressing. I have none of my old friends who I could sit and reminisce with. There is no colossal amount of work to keep me trapped in the library, which is too far from my dorm and too crowded to be a viable and attractive possibility.

An older version of myself would probably turn to resentment, and sit here complaining about the dreary state without any forward motion to find a solution. Today I'm going to make a list of ten ideas of things you can do in the winter that don't involve drugs / alcohol and will help entertain you or keep you busy!

(1) Reorganize Your Room
This is what I'm doing today after my class. I'm sure for many other people it's much needed as well. This can be anything from rearranging your closet to finally throwing out exam week study guides from the Fall Semester. I always manage to find treasures when I'm cleaning out my room so think of it as an opportunity to jam to bad music and find things that have recently been obscured by piles of disorganized clothing.


(2) Write Something Great
I have yet to get to this; my blog is hardly something I consider great. One day I will find inspiration for something worthy of being called my Opus. Winter is a great time to force yourself to explore the musty corners of your mind for something good you can write and not be embarrassed to publish.

(3) Movies and TV Shows
I feel so lazy sometimes just sitting and watching as many television episodes as I can squeeze into a day, but sometimes there is really nothing better to do than to just sit and try to form a holy union with your bed or a couch.

(4) Have Friends Up
This will probably happen once for me all winter, but one of my closest friends is coming this weekend to visit! If you go somewhere as remote as Middlebury, it is often nice to have the company of an old friend who will understand your nostalgia and who you can have fun with without the social pressures of having to try to make new friends.

(5) Read
I have recently been relatively antsy to the point where I have had a lot of trouble focusing on reading. This is just the result of an emotional funk I'm working through and when I'm done I plan on devouring as many tomes as my slow moving brain will allow. I will probably post a winter term reading list to provide some suggestions either later on today or tomorrow (depending on how my day goes).

(6) Do Something Adventurous
I have recently discovered that something exists called geocaching, which sounds like something absolutely fabulous to do on some of the warmer days during the winter. Another idea is walking through the woods around your campus. This really only works for people with rural campuses, but my guess is, if your campus is urban or suburban you won't even be reading this.

(7) Listen to New Music
Trade CDs with friends or make playlists for each other and just spend some time hanging out, drinking coffee or hot chocolate and listening to amazing new music. This can only go on for so long though, so I suggest pairing this with some movies and tv shows afterwards.

(8) Board Games / Card Games
I don't know that many card games but a few good ones are spoons (sometimes called tongues?),  gin rummy, BS, Kemps and Spades. If you are particularly ambitious you can learn to play poker and make small bets to keep things exciting.

(9) Arrange Skype Dates
It's a great way to catch up with distant friends and completely free which I enjoy. Group Skype costs extra though, so I've discovered the best way to have a group chat with your friends is Google+. It's really easy and there are some fun features like adding reindeer antlers to your face for example. Even if you don't really use Google+ the hangout feature is the best free group chat I have found that works easily on PCs and Macs.

(10) Catch Up on Politics
Romney has won Iowa and New Hampshire thus far in the primaries and November will be sooner than you think.  This is probably a good time to read up on policy, register to vote and prepare yourself for the next elections which should prove to be nerve wracking or exciting depending on your view of the political arena. 

Risk

If you consider yourself even moderately successful in anyway, you must have some experience with taking risks. The chance of failure is what defines success, and without some element of risk, there is no chance of failure. I consider myself socially inept for the most part; I can be polite and if someone else initiates a conversation I can hold it up for quite some time. However, I tend to be distrusting and reluctant to reveal personal details, opinions or controversial thoughts unless I know someone well.

I maintain a cynical attitude towards society, and have been presented with no reason to feel otherwise in a while. What is terrifying for someone like me, who tries their very best to suppress emotions and attachments is the development of a new attachment, beginning to trust someone and secretly hoping that unlike everyone else they will change the cynical way with which you view the world. You expect disappointment, statistical evidence points to no other options, yet everyone wants to perceive the world as beautiful, and wants to find someone who will prove their cynicism wrong. There is nothing that the arrogantly cynical person wants more than to return to their naïveté and modify their jaded personality.

So how do you navigate emotions you try to repress and trust you keep only for those who have already made the effort to get close to you? How do you dispel the idea that people will only hurt you and isolation is the only way to feel safe and preserve your happiness? A part of this is cultivating more positive "habits of mind". Recently, in an attempt to cure myself of what I call "undiagnosed depression", I have taken to writing out my sources of anxiety troubling thoughts, writing ways to acknowledge them and figure out how to get rid of them. It is hard to view your own actions and perceptions from an unbiased perspective, but it is possible to try to detach from problems to solve them. This concept can also be applied to social interactions. If you don't trust someone, why not? What are you afraid of? Is there a good reason for you to have this fear?

Much of my anxiety when it comes to "new" people is related to a past experience. Is it justifiable to base preconceptions about someone on something that has happened to you in the past with a different person? What if your preconceptions are actually correct? There are personality types that I am more likely to trust: quiet people, people who have low self-esteem or people who demonstrate persistent interest in the things I say. I am wary of people who I perceive as being too beautiful, too outgoing or too eager to please others.

My half-conscious generalizations of personality types is possible one of my biggest flaws. More often than not this hurts me rather than helps. I have expectations that are either too high or too low and tend to place people on pedestals that they are too flawed to live up to. I initially blame them, realize I shouldn't, blame myself and fall into an unfortunate emotional cycle that revolves around a mixture of self-loathing and loathing of everyone else.

Acknowledging this problem and doing something about it are different things entirely. I face the problem of how to deal with someone who I like in a normal way without distorting their personality to fit an idealistic expectation of someone who can save me from my negativity. It sounds too depressing to have no expectations from anyone else. It seems like an isolated life; although I want to be the type of person who is okay with isolation, I don't know if I can be. I am searching for a practical way to modify my expectations to fit a realistic view of individuals. Expecting not to be saved from myself is better than expecting to be hurt. The question I face is how I can incorporate these thoughts into the ritual of my daily life.

Taking risks is the only way to eliminate my distorted world view, and the only way someone who perceives his/herself as socially inept can fall into normalcy. Emotional vulnerability and trusting someone who you would not normally trust due to preconception is one risk that has the potential to change my view of people. Basing your views of a person only on interactions with that person rather than turning them into idealized constructions takes a certain degree of risk as well.  I am far from perfecting this, and in the midst of trying to cure myself of my troubled mind. I just thought I would share what is in my head in the vague hope that someone can actually relate to it and perhaps my thoughts will help them figure things out too. I imagine with persistence I can change myself rather than relying on others to fix me.