Faculty night dinner awesomeness. October 31, 2006

We talked in French about how she grew up in Congo and sought political asylum in the United States. We talked about how I lived in France and served as a translator for my parents. There was something pleasant about being able to converse with a professor outside of class in a foreign language. I allowed myself to feel a little selfish pride in being able to hold my own in the exchange.

Maybe it was the clothes that gave me the confidence. Dressed in a grey wool blazer, black Banana republic sweater, white-blue striped collared shirt, dark Lucky jeans, and black shoes, I looked the conservative prepster, but talked like the confident Californian. Hair combed into place, jaw freshly shaved, and the twinkle in the eye (if I may so indulge) contributed to this Cary Grant-esque image. I enjoy dressing up and looking spiffy. I enjoy being able to take the extra care and exact the extra attention to detail. Perhaps, it serves as a distraction to the problems that I have to deal with. Often, the simple acts of cleaning my room or going for a run, or walking up the stairs provide a chance to momentarily escape my quotidian worries.

Is that what I seek, then? Is that all we seek? Those fleeting moments of happiness that punctuate longer lengths of unhappiness and sorrow? Do we live only for these short bursts of joy? Or is it the other way around? Can you really simplify this question into a matter of point of view – a pessimistic vs. an optimistic one? It seems as if you start with the latter view as a child and move towards the former as you progress into adulthood. (No new ideas here, sorry.) In my case, it almost seems like I have to work, work, work during the week until I arrive at the weekend, which provides a brief respite.

Hmm. Maybe I complain too much. Maybe I think too much. Ignorance would be bliss, but I chose otherwise. I wouldn’t call this courage; maybe this could be called egotism with a dash of vanity. For this, I apologize.

Does the fact that I have to resort to this blog to get my thoughts out indicative of the helplessness of the emotional situation that I am part of? First, I think yes, on closer inspection, I think maybe. I think it’s almost pathetic that I must use this website to properly attain catharsis, but then again console myself with the fact that I don’t let these ideas boil and rage inside of me.

I need to hop back on the climbing wall real soon.

Oddities. October 27, 2006

I feel incredibly unfulfilled and fulfilled at the same time. It depends what we’re talking about.

Social life at Stanford has been such a mixed bag. Sure everyone has been great to talk to and to meet, but I haven’t found the core group of friends that I want to spend time with. That doesn’t mean that I’m shy and introverted and have not taken the time to meet others, it’s just that I feel like I haven’t clicked with anyone yet. I guess this is normal. What the hell is normal, anyway? Normal is what I see others doing, clicking in, clique-ing in, if you catch my drift. Although my network of friends from high school is still strong, I don’t feel like I have the same social support here at Stanford. I feel especially not included with the group of gay freshman, who are living in a section of campus far away from where I live. Maybe I shouldn’t expect them to be inclusive, I haven’t made that much effort to include myself. Maybe that doesn’t matter. Maybe it does matter. Maybe I want it to matter because this is the first time in my life that I am actually open with everyone on campus. Maybe it needs to matter because there’s this group of people that I can identify with but am not currently. In any case, I feel unfulfilled in that area.

Music has always been something that I have used to fill the gaps in my life. It serves its purpose here at Stanford. Chamber chorale is amazing. I cannot begin to describe how fulfilled I feel when our group performs a passage from Whitacre that includes crazy harmonies. It’s magical. It gives me goosebumps on my skin. I moves me to silent tears. And we’re going to England over the summer, baby! Can’t wait to perform, be taught by some of the best English choral conductors, as well as see more of England. On another note, our Stanford performances will be held in the beautiful Memorial Church. I can’t wait. I went to go buy coattails for the concert dress last weekend. That was definitely one of the most exciting things that I have done in awhile. It was also the first time that I entered “the real world” in a long time. It felt odd paying for something in cash rather than using my Stanford ID card.

I need to loft my bed. I don’t have enough room in my dorm room. It’s kind of driving me crazy. Also, I need to get a comfy chair or pillows or something. I need to create a space where I can do work other than my bed or my desk. My roommate is considerably neater than I am, and when I look at my desk covered with junk, I cringe. Hmm… My sheets are not as soft as I would like. Definitely the comforter cover is not soft. Damn Ikea. The mattress is a lot more firm than the one that I had at home, which is supposedly better for my back. Anyway, it feels like it’s been forever since I’ve been able to get a good night’s rest.

The other day I went to see a Turkish film called Valley of the Wolves. The movie detailed the horrific actions perpetrated by the US Army against the people of Iraq. The amount and degree of violence depicted in the film stunned me. What’s more, it was the highest grossing movie in Turkey. Can you imagine the amount of anti-US sentiment that was generated following the release of this movie? One of the saddest things about the movie was that there were many elements of truth in it.

Which brings me to the question as to why I am writing this entry. The main point is selfish, really: I needed an outlet to voice my thoughts right before I go to bed. No, there is nothing really special in my life that is going on (is there ever?), not scandalous, nor exciting. Lethargic might be the right term. And it’s not because I am about to go to sleep.

And yet, I am drawn by the whiteness of the screen and the knowledge that this text box will accommodate my thoughts, as many of them as I want to describe. I can’t yet find a way to end. Hmm, let’s talk about…

Moulin Rouge. Maybe because I just saw the movie. Regardless, I see the type of interaction between the two main characters, Christian and Satine, as something that I have always wanted to have–the bohemian ideal of love. Damnit. Is that what I really want or need right now? Maybe I am just sick of seeing other couples in movies (which I find myself watching a lot more of) or around campus, specifically in my dorm. Gosh darn it. Why. Well, maybe it’s more of the feeling of disappointment that I feel. A disappointment that I haven’t really met someone, yet, or met someone, ever. I told myself in high school that I would never crush on anyone, let alone enter or entertain the thought of a relationship. I reserved those feelings for when I met someone in college. I know it’s the fifth week. Slow down, take a rest, relax, things will happen, I tell myself. These are the things that I have perpetually told myself.

Maybe it’s time for a mindset change. Maybe it’s time for a physical change.

I need to go rock climbing. That’ll solve things.