Grown Up Angst

I FINALLY have a bed that is NOT a twin, with TWO pillows, and my stupid sheet set only came with ONE pillowcase. I was complaining about this to my friend Naz on the phone, and she suggested that I use an old baggy shirt until I got around to getting new pillowcases. I knew I was saving that free "10 Ways to Spot a Law Student" shirt I got my 1L year for a reason. When I start feeling like a hot shot in my new grown up bed, all I have to do is look down at my pillow and I'll immediately feel lame.

New job that starts next week, new car, new place. I'm thoroughly excited, yet overwhelmed. Having a billion things to do creates a very inconvenient paralysis. Also, I am being thrust into adulthood, a state of being that I have religiously avoided far far far beyond my 18th or 21st birthdays, all at once. It is TERRIFYING. Driving my new little hybrid on streets that make absolutely no sense and getting lost in neighborhoods where there is no room for two cars traveling in opposite directions to pass each other is bewildering. The amount of money, time, and energy it takes to furnish and set up a tiny room in a house is astonishing. And realizing that I am going to start a job next week that comes with a large amount of responsibility is sobering.

Being an adult is an involved process, in that involves a lot of me freaking out and wondering if I can hack it. Also, I've spent seven of the last nine years of my life in school preparing to be something other than what I was. Now, life is suddenly falling into place. My journey hasn't ended yet, but I'm at a significant stop on the way. It's time to stop trudging on the road to somewhere else and camp out for a while. I only hope I can set up the damn tent.

Crazy Girl is Moving to Silver Lake

What kind of person looks up and notices people staring at her while she is muttering to herself on the subway and then ACTS on the unfortunate impulse to say out loud "note to self: stop talking to yourself on the subway?"

The same person who manages to visit her future house in Silver Lake three times, and wreaks havoc on TWO of those occasions. The first time, I nervously dropped my phone on the hardwood floor and my future roommate was kind enough to tell me he did it all the time. Unfortunately, my friend who accompanied me to the house is not so kind and tells the story of me walking into the house, meeting this new roommate, and immediately THROWING my phone to the ground and smashing it into a million pieces with great relish. And YESTERDAY, after having picked up the keys, I was walking across the lawn and congratulating myself on not being an ass, when I suddenly TRIPPED on a piece of furniture that was lying on the grass and fell on my face. Damage done: one huge tear in my brand new, expensive black skinny jeans; one very bloody wound on my knee; and one SEVERELY BRUISED EGO. I actually had to ask Jen if I was cool enough to move in to the area, and she managed to stop laughing hard enough to tell me I am.

Note: Jen was extremely concerned about my knee and didn't start laughing until she was assured by my expression of embarrassment as opposed to pain. She is one of the most caring people I know, but earlier in the evening, I went in right behind her through the revolving door of her building and we both got STUCK. One can only be straight faced for so long when presented with an entire evening of ridiculousness.

Soap Operas as Emotional Fortification

Everyone has a "thing" that gets them through traumatic experience and major life upheavals. Mine is more of a formula, consisting of hot chocolate, playing the same song over and over again, buying shoes, and last but not least, Korean dramas.






Am I of Korean descent? No. But that doesn't make it weird. As an Indian American, a lot of the cultural issues resonate with me. And beyond that, a great fear of displeasing one's elders and a propensity to fall in love with someone who isn't a very appropriate match are themes that transcend borders. Plus I love the fashion and learning bits and pieces of the Korean language. I swear, my aunt is practically fluent. She anticipates words in Korean based on the English subtitles before the actors even have a chance to say their lines.

I've already used one series to get me through a nasty breakup. Thankfully, the end of this past relationship was nowhere near as devastating, but I am basically at a point where I am building my life up from scratch, and it is mildly terrifying. In a few days, I'll be packing up my few belongings and moving to my new living quarters, a room in a house with two people I've talked to for about fifteen minutes each. And one thing that is foremost in my mind is how the hell I am going to explain to these strangers that I need access to the Korean channel, and it's not something that's up for negotiation.

Reality Check

Every day when I read the news, I briefly consider whether all of the pictures and descriptions of carnage are doctored by sinister forces who are trying to make me really, really sad. This fleeting thought makes me realize that (a) I can be incredibly self-centered, at times to a psychotic degree; and (b) I really need to GO SOMEWHERE and witness a world outside of my contained little life. And even more, I need to not forget the things I HAVE seen. I cannot watch any kind of horror movie, no matter how ridiculous, because I actually fear that a leprechaun or doll or dude with a hockey mask will come through the television screen and slice me up into pieces and dip those pieces in acid. However, all of the images from my trips to India and even while I walk around downtown LA prick at my conscience for a second or a minute and might even cause me to pony up a few rupees or a dollar to someone in need, but then the experience fades away into non-reality.

Ergh. A readjustment of the brain is in order!