I love Maya Angelou.
Sometimes I fail at this, but I practice again anyway.
We’re only human after all.
With love,
Lissy Out
0
Like when you pass all the clean stalls in the mall bathroom, only to step into the one with diarrhea.
Until checking-out day comes.
“Whose clothes are these hanging?”
“Whose bag is this?”
“Did you know we can check-out through the TV?”
“Whose shoes are these?”
“Are we taking this plastic bag?”
“Whose lock is this?”
“We can call to have them take our luggage.”
“Does everyone have their luggage?”
“Childhood story”
“Whose lock is this? Do I throw it away?”
“It’s 11 o’clock!” Actually 10:15
“Are we taking this bag?”
“…this one?”
“…this one?”
“…what about this?”
“We’re going to be late. They’re going to charge us.”
“Call them to take or bags. It takes them a while.”
“I told you they would take long!”
“Call them to check out.”
“Do I throw this lock away?”
“Childhood story”
Fin.
New York is great. Everyone is walking as if they have somewhere important to go, and soon that feeling infects your feet and you’re suddenly at high speed…with nowhere to go.
Unfortunately, my grandparents have a condition called Oldhispanicfrommiami that prevents New York’s infection.
Needless to say, my family trip in New York was stressful.
I basically have a headache.
On the upside, I have a information on another Museum Education program that I can compare to University of Washington. Soon, I will post on UW and Bank Street.
Lissy Out.
So I decided…just…on a whim…to check out the graduate programs in Columbia University. I researched their requirements and such, then realized………
I’m dumb.
Lissy out
So apparently I started this draft 2 days ago, and totally forgot. I was about to write a post with the same title, but low and behold, it already exists!
So I did rant a lot during the most recent yesterday, and this is kind of why…
If in life, we all have many loves, like you love your mom as much as you love food, and so on…I have many loves as well. And some interests may be things I want to pursue but I feel like I have to Sophie’s Choice it right now. If you don’t get the reference, I suggest you grab a box of tissues and watch the movie right now, if only just to understand my dilemma. Not that I’m seriously comparing it to the events of the film. That would be heartless and tacky and I’m rambling.
Ok, if I don’t make sense, here’s a quote from Never Been Kissed, when Drew Barrymore’s character is talking to her high school classmate, Josie. When Drew asks Josie about her hopes and dreams, she replies:
I want to be professor of medieval literature. I want to be a novelist. I want to be a weekend flautist. I want to be a potter. I want to be a painter. I want to be an architect and I want to go to Northwestern.
I feel like I’m still young enough to want to be and do so many things, but at an age where I have to make one decision…at least for now.
To make me feel better, rather than see life as a road, I’d like to think of life as a blossoming flower, unfolding its petals as time goes on. It’s cheesy and I got it from somewhere, said by someone, but if it’s going to be keep me sane for 5 more seconds…
And yes, I’m perfectly aware there are starving children and those without an education. I am able to see my problems with some perspective, people. But how will I be able to help them if I can’t figure out if I’m going to be a professor, flautist, or painter?!
Lissy Out
PS. I know I said I would write about the museum education program at UW (and I currently have an appointment with Bank Street in New York), but once I really read all the info I got, I will provide my input. Even if it is for just one interested person. You know who you are.
PPS. I’ll post more Seattle pictures. Not that I took that many, but hey.
At some point in society, the words “I don’t know” became taboo, showing a sign of weakness. All throughout my life, those three words were unacceptable. More prevalent now, as I’ve become a college graduate.
I know the year long “break” after graduation is supposed to be your time of exploration, but I still feel the stigma of those three words.
However, during this rant, I will defy that stigma and use the words as honestly as intended, if only to inspire others to own their inner turmoil.
So listen now, and listen well:
NO I don’t know what plan of study I want to devote my time to for the next two years.
NO I don’t know if what I do end up studying will get me anywhere.
NO I don’t know what school I want to go to.
NO I don’t know where I want to live.
NO I don’t know what I want to be when I grow up.
NO I don’t know where I will be in five years, much less next week.
And guess what…
this is what I do know:
I want to be my own boss.
I want to enjoy what I do and do it well.
I want to work with people I admire.
I want to travel.
I want to inspire.
And no…
I don’t know how to make that happen, or if it will. But at this moment, this is my truth. And just because I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing, doesn’t mean I won’t eventually figure it out, and it doesn’t mean I will.
So let’s shoot down the “I don’t know” stigma and let’s be real, because no one else knows what the fuck they’re doing either. We’re all doing the best we can with what we know, and it may not look pretty all the time. Sometimes, we figure it out for a moment, until life loses us again. But, it’s ok to not know.
We may not know where we’re going, but every road leads to somewhere right?
I don’t know.
Lissy out.
More to come from my trip.
Visited UW. Will explain museology program in next post.
In the meantime, twerk.
Lissy out.
From the toilet, where I sit…
Writing my first CV ever, for a job that I’m 100% sure I’m under qualified for, makes me want to close my eyes and fast forward to a time when I’m successfully doing whatever it is that I’m good at. John Mayer can kiss my behind with all that “there’s no such thing as the real world” bull that I believed when I could afford to.
This is scary stuff comrades. Studying for the GRE alone makes me want to put my hands up, buy a farm and get to work. Not that there is anything wrong or degrading about farming… Anyway, there’s one side of my brain that is saying “CHILLAX!” And another part saying, “Stop crying about life! At least you got an education! Now get to work!” Then finally, the part that is writing this post. I wish I could blame it on Dissociative Identity Disorder, but I have a feeling it’s the Average Life Crisis Syndrome.
Symptoms include:
Hysterical crying at the thought of your present situation
Hysterical crying at the thought of the near future
Hysterical crying at the thought of the far future
Excessive amounts of pondering on life mission
Reading large amounts of inspirational quotes,stories, philosophies, and/or poetry
Heightened sexual desire
Lowered amounts of self-confidence
Lowered sexual performance due to lowered self-confidence
Upset stomach
Diarrhea
I expect this to be a temporary illness, due to transitional life changes.
At least, that’s what my psychologist tells me…maybe i should’ve tipped during the last visit.
Lissy Out.
I refuse to celebrate a holiday that condones finders keepers/losers weepers. I went to catholic school my whole life, I think I know what Easter’s about.
-March 31, 2013
Facebook throwback
D. Average Life 