Wow...not so bad.

I made a 68 on my first Italian Theater essay. Never in my life have I ever failed something like that. Big surprise, I didn't melt. I didn't blow up or get struck by lightening. The earth did not open up and swallow me whole. I'm not proud of myself but I am not ashamed either, which is surprising. I didn't try my hardest but I did try and when I got my paper back it looked like Prof. Grossvogel had a nosebleed in the middle of grading and my paper was the tissue he used to stop the flow. I'm surprised the paper was able to dry before he gave it back it was so ink soaked.

I made a 68 and then life moved on. I laughed. Sometimes you just have to laugh and let it go. I will correct my paper, turn it in, try to salvage what can be saved of my grade and then just get on with it. I'm just trying to make it until May. I'm crawling to the finish line and all of a sudden its like Michael Adams opened the UGA directory, blindly pointed to a name and said "Our lucky winner is Courtney Smith; everyone try to fuck with her every way they possibly can." This is ridiculous, so I laugh. Everyday. Keep on truckin' I guess. Almost there.

Somewhat Expected

I received 5 copies of the magazine I created over the summer today. As I expected, I was very disappointed. All that work and time and I see almost nothing of myself in it. This got me thinking. Is this what working is? Do we all just settle to do something that gives us a paycheck so we can live and have things like food, a house and, if we are lucky, spending money? Are we only ourselves in the time between when we have to slug through work? I really wanted to be excited and proud of what I had done but I was more like "ehhh..." I was more excited to open the package. I don't know what to think of this. Is everyone just going to join corporate misery everyday so they can afford their lifestyles and what they would really like to be doing? Does anyone even know what they would really like to do? God knows I dont.

Somebodies

So, we watched the show "Somebodies" today in class. It was surreal to see Little Kings used as a church and one of my friends lives in those little multi-colored houses out by North Avenue so it was a little weird; but, I was also less than impressed. I see how they wove the plot structures in at the end and I think that is what I was intended to notice but I cannot help but to comment on another aspect of the plot. Not to start a riot on the class blog but I was embarrassed and offended. How many black stereotypes can we fit into one series? I understand that I am white (granted, about as white as possible otherwise known as aryan, aryan, aryan of which I am not proud of but realize as a truth) and therefore, as much as I would like to, don't understand the cultural aspects of the intended audience that could make this acceptable. I don't know, maybe I am a bleeding heart liberal that is overly politically correct, but I really was offended.

That is why I wanted to know the class opinion. I understand my own cultural bias, I was raised in a privileged environment and watch things like Gossip Girl (again not proud) and Friends because it is something that I can relate to and laugh at because it is an exaggerated representation of what is familiar to me. It's funny. But, "Somebodies" did not seem funny to me; it seemed condescending and racist. But, now that I am thinking about it and analyzing it, wouldn't Gossip Girl be incredibly condescending to white, urban culture as it represents the white, urban teenager as incredibly materialistic and more concerned with social climbing than actual human feelings? But, this seems to be acceptable entertainment to me and "Somebodies" was not. This could be just me and my own cultural upbringing but it really bothered me. What do you all think? How did you feel?

Ears and a puff tail dont play the game

I hope Edwin is not riddled with angst. However, I can never be sure because communicating with a rabbit is like praying. Lots of people talk to god but when god talks back your crazy. Edwin doesn't talk back but he seems content as a free range rabbit. He hops around, sits in his cage, sleeps in his rabbit condo, explores the closet and then calls it a great day. He has no real worries and only really gets upset when we touch his toys or have to move the litter box to clean it. He leads a simple life of which I am envious. The only expectation I have of him is that he not chew the baseboards of the apartment. He ultimately fails to meet that expectation but seems pretty oblivious to that fact.

In response to your question, no, we are not merely hurtling down a tunnel with no choice in our direction. There are lots of twists and turns and choices to go left or right. It is a lot like a game board. I understand that every decision I have ever made has brought me to be who I am today and that I am winning the game. Am I proud of winning? No. Would I rather be losing the cultural game of success? Absolutely not. I would rather not be playing at all. But, in my mind, that is not a choice. I know cognitively that it is but, when you choose not to play, everyone else thinks that you merely lost. Again, coming back to what everyone else thinks. Go figure.

Ultimately, I feel obligated to play and make the choice to continue doing so. That is the catch-22. I cannot be proud of anything I have accomplished that others admire because I dont agree with the rules of the game. I just play it very well.

I am very relaxed in my self-awareness. I know exactly who I am and have an idea of why I am in this position. I dont regret anything I have ever done and am content. I play the game well and am able to sell myself in exchange for what I think I need.

I am a Socialist who spent my entire summer starting a wedding magazine in Atlanta that just tells people how to waste money on a big and excessive wedding. I was good at taking the essence of myself and translating it into something I think is stupid and wasteful. Can I be proud of that? To use a cliche, I sold out for a click on my resume. But hey, it's one hell of a resume. I guess I won. How terribly thrilling.

Ironically funny

Why are the supposed most intelligent and successful students at the university the most terrified of failure? Almost everyone in the room, including myself, said their biggest fear was that they were not and would never be good enough. Good enough for who? Where does it all stop? How good do we have to be to just make it all stop. Where is the top and when, if ever, can we reach it?

I have recently come to the conclusion that no matter what I do in May after I graduate, next weekend, next year and my whole life, I am going to let someone down. Everyone thinks they know what is best for you and everyone's idea will be different. If you try to do everything the "right" way, you very well might end up like me (I am not sure if that would be a good thing or bad, it just is).

I am graduating with two bachelors degrees in three years. I speak two languages. I have a 3.8 gpa. A slew of internships. I was an editorial assistant over the summer and helped start a magazine from scratch. I have written for the Red & black since the first semester my freshman year.

That does not sound too bad, it seems I have all the "right" pieces, everything I "need" to be "successful." But, I have about three real friends, don't go anywhere, hardly ever do anything. I have a boyfriend whom I live with and a rabbit named Edwin who I probably talk to on a daily basis more than the friends. I work, study and whatever else fills my time before I go to sleep.

I am not saying this is good or bad; it just is. I am happy with it and used to it and this is how my life works. But, I am sure someone out there thinks this is the wrong way and someone else thinks something else is "wrong" and thinks I should do everything differently.

That is why I started this blog. I want it to be an exploration into why everyone is so scared of not always doing the right thing or being the "right" person. An examination of my own life and why the hell I care so much about always being the best. Always at the top; because, there is no top.