New Friends Are Like New Ovens.

These days I've been facing the challenge of how to get to know people in a new city that has so many parts to it, and at a school where I'm taking fewer classes with an even smaller pool of students (who also are primarily female).

Boston is divided into sections and they are so different. There's Cambridge which houses Harvard and MIT with Harvard Square as a center of some of the hustle and bustle of the area. Then there is the Back Bay area which houses Emerson College (my little artsy school), the theatre district and parts of Suffolk College. Next is Brighton (which is where I technically live) where Boston College sits just across the reservoir. These are the only areas that I have had contact with or have explored so far and it's almost like they are these tiny towns with different personalities, that together create the city of Boston.

That being said, it's been a little daunting at times as I attempt to maneuver my way through this new city and familiarize myself with my surroundings; all the while trying to get to know places and people that are so diverse.

I've only met girls so far, considering there are three boys total in my two classes. There have been a few girls that I've exchanged numbers with and chatted with while waiting for the T. And I've been hanging out with my roommates a bunch, which is great because they are awesome. But it's been harder to branch out further so far.

However, I did meet a girl in one of my classes that has "friend potential" as my friend Catherine put it. Ironically enough, she's from Arizona also so we bonded over the whole "west-coast vs. east-coast" thing and she's a writer like me but she doesn't seem like a writer when you first meet her. She's not moody or pretentious, which is so refreshing because I'm met a lot of...'douche-y' writers in my day. In fact, sometimes even though I am a writer, I can't really be friends with other writers, not true friends anyways.

I keep coming back to how important patience is in times like these, times of transition and change, but that's probably because it's true. I baked cookies for the first time in my new oven and the first batch came out a little too brown for my taste, so I adjusted the temperature on the oven and put the second batch in. They came out perfect.

I think it's the same with new friends. Sometimes you don't click right away with everyone you do meet, but you keep trying and putting yourself out there until you meet those people where it just works. So here's it to putting yourself, or in this case myself, out there.

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Don't Let the Bed Bugs Bite. Seriously.

I don't think I appreciated that phrase until now. Or realized how truly terrifying a thing this is to say to a young child.

We just moved into our apartment, and we have bed bugs. It first started with my one roommate, she woke up covered in mysterious bites and we searched the house for clues. I was the next victim, by then we had found two tiny bug corpses hidden in my roommate's curtains--so we dumped the curtains, washed everything we could and called the exterminator. We haven't even been in our apartment for an entire month and everything we brought into the apartment was brand new, so the landlord is footing the bill (thank goodness).

It's been a little bit stressful considering we are all in the middle of adjusting to moving, living with each other, new jobs and classes. It's also stressful for me because my roommates and their parents freaked out so much about the bed bug situation that I felt like I almost shouldn't react at all. I should be the calm one, the sane one. The one capable of getting down to business and making rational decisions. I also seemed to be the least girly about the whole situation, which was surprising considering they both assumed I was the girly one before they even met me based on some pictures they saw of me in a tiara on my Facebook. Btw, it was my birthday and we went to a concert, of course I wore a crown! But anyways, there has been a lot of shrieking and jumping at clumps of fuzz over the past few days.

The exterminators came today and I even went as far as to bribe them with cookies to do a super thorough job, they laughed but took the cookies. It's all turning out fine, just like I knew it would, but it was strange for me to see how other people to react to not-so-ideal situations.

Because I look at things this way: sometimes things happen that you can't control and all you can do is roll with it and wait for it to stop raining. You turn those brown bananas into banana bread and move on. It's pretty simple. And spazzing out and worrying yourself sick doesn't solve the problem or make things better.

All I know is that if there is a zombie apocalypse in the near future, and I'm around my roommates, I'm going to be the one saying "calm down guys, I'll just get a sawed-off shot gun and we'll be fine." Too much? But seriously...

Or maybe I'm just a little more 'west-coast' and laid-back than I thought.

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I Don't Have a Witty Title. I'm Sorry. Actually, I'm Sorry I'm Not Sorry.

It's been a couple of days so I figured I should probably write again. And as I stated in my title, I don't really have anything witty to say. But I guess the point of this whole blog is not to just write when I have something to say, it's to write when I have nothing to say also.

But, it wouldn't be entirely correct for me to state that I have 'nothing' to say. Just nothing too important, meaningful or mind-blowing. And again, I should starting getting used to the idea that this is okay. I can't always be on 24/7 with witty, humorous and insightful things to say/write. There are going to be times where everything is just sort of, average.

So here is me writing to you--my lovely audience, all three of you, when I feel like I have nothing substantial to say:

I had my first classes last week and so far so good. There is a lot more reading than I remember from my under-grad, or maybe I'm just actually reading everything in its entirety as opposed to skimming everything like I often did before. Or maybe I just care more now...I'm not really sure. It's nothing too overwhelming though, because I have fewer classes so I can focus more. I prefer it actually, to taking a bunch of classes where my focus has to be readjusted more often and not necessarily towards things that are of interest to me.

I started unpacking my boxes that arrived last week and now I just need to buy some actual furniture. Specifically a dresser or some shelves, to store everything. My closet here isn't as big as the ones before, so I'm going to have to adjust my organizational system a bit. I suppose that's the mode I'm in right now--adjustment mode. Trying to get my bearings, get organized and overall get settled in.

I've come to terms with the fact that it may, and probably will, take me a while to feel settled. That's one of the things I learned last year when I moved to Boulder from Durango--how to adjust. Although, the change in scenery, people and overall life-style is far more drastic of a change this time. For instance, now I'm learning what life is like without the convenience of a car, and it will probably lead me to be more organized and efficient with my time. Or at least that's what I'm hoping for.

It's funny, one of my roommates keeps asking me how I'm not "freaking out" and I keep telling her that we've only been here two weeks. She just graduated from college though and she isn't quite used to this whole life-after-life-as-an-under-grad thing. It's sort of strange seeing her as people saw me last year when I was in her position. I have a year of experience in the real world (that definitely sucks at times) but that was what prompted me to go to grad school in the first place. I didn't go on a whim. I thought seriously about it and for me it just makes sense. And now I have a whole new approach of school and real-life than I had before. I'm trying to make the two mesh and to do that it requires a kind of balance.

Let's hope that my physical clumsiness won't get in the way. But I'll admit it--it's not an interesting day unless I do at least five awkward things.

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Anonymous.

In the past I've always found comfort in being known or knowing the people I'm surrounded by.

My college was a small school in an even smaller town and by the time I graduated I couldn't even walk down the street without running into at least four people I knew by name. At first, when I would come back each year I found it, like I said before, to be kind of comforting. I enjoyed being a part of the "bubble."

Then I just felt a little suffocated by it. I couldn't buy orange juice without running into someone I knew, and usually it was just the person or the people I didn't want to run into. Inevitably I'd be wearing yoga pants, a hoodie, my old glasses (that are not quite as hip as my new ones), and my hair would be disheveled. Cute right? Not so much.

By the time I graduated from college I was starting to feel trapped by this tiny town that I had come to know as my home, and I felt like I had to move away before I ended up resenting it forever. So, I wrote it a little mental letter in my head:

Dear Durango, 

The past four years have been fun. We've laughed. I've cried. I grew up here, like really grew up. But now it's time for us, for me, to move on. I promise to write or to visit. You'll always have a little place in my heart and you'll always be my little home in the mountains. 

Love, 

Me

And I moved away. But I still had my little support system of friends and family pretty close by.

I don't have that now. At least not a car ride away. And at first that scared me a bit, but now I feel kind of freed by it. I walk down the street now, and people see a girl who looks like she's in college. They don't know my name, they don't know where I'm from, they don't know who I have or haven't dated, anything about me really except for what they see. And I like that. No labels, only brief assumptions.

My sister and I were taking a walk a couple of days before I left town and we were talking about how hard it can be to escape from our pasts sometimes. Or how hard it is to change the image that some people have of us. Someone could meet you in a weird stage of your life and think that you are a particular way, when really you are a whole other person. Or that stage was just a piece of the greater whole, not the whole itself. It's like wearing a "hello my name is" sticker that you didn't realize you were wearing and when you try to take it off, people still call you by that fake name.

But that got me thinking that in a way this anonymity has become a source of reinvention. I can try to become the best possible version of me that I can be and if I stumble, no one here will know the difference. I know this may sound strange and in fact, it probably doesn't make complete sense. But it doesn't have to make sense to everyone it just has to make sense to me.

So here's my little semi-conclusion: As I walk down the street surrounded by unfamiliar faces and backs of heads that I don't recognize I've discovered what it's like to be anonymous. Now, I see the beauty in anonymity and the beauty in reinvention that I never quite saw before.

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Pick-Up Lines & Public Transportation

I've been riding the T a lot lately. (And for you out-of-towners the "T" is the Massachusetts Bay Transportation Association's subway system, or the T for short.)

And to be honest, I kind of like it. I know that there is a chance in the future that I will take back that statement or even claim that I never made such a statement, like if a train is delayed and I'm late to work or class, but for the present I'm enjoying it. Although, I have to admit that I have yet to master and perfect my disinterested stare. My eyes still retain their curious sparkle and I'm almost certain I smile too much.

This is probably why I've had a couple of strange encounters on the T.

Like the boy that admired my owl ring, asked to try it on and then proceeded to ask me my sign all before the train left the station. I was almost sure he was going to sprint off the train at the next stop with my ring still on. Not that this was an expensive ring, but I just got it and it's pretty cool. He didn't take off though. He just sat next to me and talked my ear off about how he is a piano player from Temple University and kept trying to guess my astrological sign. Side-note: he wasn't even close.

My new roommate just sat next to me and we both tried not to laugh or make eye contact during the entire encounter. Thankfully, he stopped talking eventually and soon enough we were at our stop and on our merry way. It wasn't until after that I realized the whole astrological thing was probably his way of hitting on me, not that it was a very original pick-up line. In fact, it's probably the most cliched line in the book. But I decided the reason he talked to me in the first place was because I looked approachable. Maybe, too approachable.

Which brings me to my next encounter, which happened before I boarded the actual T. I was on my way to the platform to wait for the next train with my other roommate and some guys that looked like they were taking some sort of survey or were going to ask me to 'save the whales' yelled to us as we were crossing the street: "Are you ladies friendly?" I yelled back "Sometimes!" Then I just kept walking.

The point of that second story is to show that I'm learning. Because Toto, we definitely are not in Colorado/Arizona anymore. I think it's because we all get so much sun, we're just naturally more sunny people. The vitamin D just glows out of our pores.

I'm not saying that I plan on being grumpy for the next three years because I can't just change my personality, I'm a generally friendly person, but I will try to tone down the friendly a bit. Try to make myself a little less approachable. Maybe I'll start wearing headphones all the time even if I don't feel like listening to music...but those things sometimes hurt my ears so maybe not. I'm sure I'll figure out something along the way.

One thing's for sure. Riding the T will definitely give this writer tons of writing material whether I am looking for it or not.

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O.M.G. My Life is a 90’s Dram-Com TV Series. Sort of.

I’m having a Felicity moment.

Right now I’m sitting in my mostly-empty room with the hustle and bustle of moving day going on outside my window and I’m feeling very Felicity-like. I’m not sure if you are familiar with the show, in fact I’m pretty sure the only people who will truly appreciate this comparison are my friends Meghan and Sabrina, but bear with me.

Felicity was a TV series in the 90’s that was centered around a girl who moved from California all the way to New York City for college. Substitute Arizona/Colorado for California and Boston for New York City and college for grad school and it’s basically my life right now. There are some other differences I guess.

 I don’t have the crazy curly hair that at the end of the first season I will cut off to prove a point to some guy. My hair is more wavy than curly. And I also didn’t claim to relocate all the way across the country in the first place for said guy. There is no guy. My parents are also ridiculously supportive, unlike Felicity’s parents. Okay, so maybe it’s not exactly the same. But that’s what I was reminded of when I was sitting in my room.

In the first episode of the series Felicity explains how she came to the decision to move to New York and essentially it all boiled down to feeling like her entire life had already been planned for her. She knew exactly where she would be four years from her high school graduation, on her way to med school just like her father. Now, as I said before I am blessed with ridiculously supportive parents who never ever forced their idea of how my life should be upon me, and for that I am eternally grateful. But I am embracing this idea of the fact that my life from here on out is entirely up to me in some sense and it’s very unscripted.

I read somewhere once that it’s “up to you to live the life you’ve always wanted” and that idea has recently been popping back up in my mind.  

And although my room is empty, right now I feel filled with possibility. 

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