Corner #4

Location: Metra electric line train

So I recently started taking the Metra again to get to work every day. I've found that no matter what time I take the train, I can always count on the same phenomenon happening every day. As Mr. Kimchi would say, "it's the Pauli Exclusion Principle at its finest." Every day, I get into the train car, and see a bunch of people sitting alone, as far away from the other people as possible. I admit to conforming to this behavior as well. As others file in, they choose seats, though arguably not entirely conscious, manner. It is only when all the seats are filled by one person that the next person who comes into the car sits next to someone. This is something that seems to happen on every public transportation vehicle, or to go beyond that, in many similar situations extending to places like the boys' bathroom urinals.

But really, who's to say that there's anything wrong with the other people who you choose to not sit next to when you enter one such situation? Who's to say that one of the people isn't your soulmate? Your long-lost sibling? What is it about us that makes us so reluctant to sit next to someone? And when there is no other choice but to sit next to someone else, why is it that people make such quick snap judgments based almost completely on a person's appearance to choose who to sit next to? Say you're given the option to sit next to a cute little girl with her hair in braids or a big, burly man with his cap on backwards and his neck decorated with bling. Even in a world where people try to claim they aren't shallow, I can bet a overwhelming majority of people would choose to sit next to the girl, simply because she might look less intimidating.
It's questions and observations like that that remind me why I like psychology and remind me why I'm happy working in a lab doing hours of work without getting paid.

Corner #3

Location: the pathway leading up to my old house: 918 E. 54th Street

On June 5, 2007, at approximately 11:30 AM, I walked up the path leading up to my house after coming home from a biology final. I got out my keys and I opened the top latch of the outer door of my house. A man ran up from behind me, covered my mouth with one hand to keep me from screaming too loudly, and punched my forehead with his other hand so that I was on the ground. He demanded that I give him my purse and I didn't try to resist, but the purse was over my shoulder so he ended up bruising my arm to get the purse off.
The man then ran across the street into an alley and thankfully for me, there was an off-duty police officer nearby who ran after the man and saw his license plate number as he tried to get away. Also thankfully for me, this happened in broad daylight so there were at least 5 witnesses who called 911 so the police were there quickly and able to catch the man and have me identify him. The man who attacked me was a repeated felon who broke his probation so he got 18 years in jail.

It's been almost 2 years since then and the scar on my forehead has mostly healed and the bruises on my arm are gone. I just remember the flood of facebook wallposts and phone calls that came from that after Mr. Horvat (our principal) e-mailed everyone about it. It amazes me how big of a difference an e-mail from an authority figure can make on the reaction from people. Three years ago, my friend had his foot run over by a bus and had to get 17 stitches and couldn't walk for the majority of summer. But no one publicized it so only his closest friends knew and talked to him about it. Although I really did appreciate the support and the kind words from everyone, I was somewhat skeptical about how many people would've actually said anything to me without receiving Mr. Horvat's e-mail.
Then again, that leads to a whole string of 'What if?"s. What if Mr. Horvat hadn't sent the e-mail? well, then what if my ex-boyfriend's mother hadn't called him to tell him about it in the first place? What if my parents had actually picked up their phones and been there for me when I was sitting in the ambulance trying to call them and then finally called my ex-boyfriend because I didn't know what else to do?
I can't say for sure if the mugging is what led me to move downtown. I also can't say for sure if that's why my parents insist on enforcing a sunset curfew for me. But I guess that's all done now and I should really stop thinking about the 'what if?"s.

Corner #2

Location: Madeline LaRue's old house, 55th and University, Hyde Park

This place for me represents a sort of lost innocence and naiveté.

5th grade- getting 'drunk' off of water.
S: "we're soooo cool."
M: "Yeah we are! I'm so drunk right now!"
S: "me too!"

6th grade- Marrissa gets locked in the bathroom during Maddie's 12th birthday
S: "How could you possibly be locked in the bathroom? there are 2 different doors!"
M: "I just broke the doorknob!"

7th grade- I get stuck in the corner between Maddie's bed and the wall
M: "get up!"
S: *in an attempted Southern accent* "I can't! I'm stuck here!"
M: "why do you have a Southern accent??"
S: I revert back to my Texan ways after it gets dark. Y'all just don't know 'cause I try to mask it during school.

10th grade- right before tennis practice
S: "MADDIEEEE! We're gonna be late!" *throws froot loops at the window*
M: "Why are you throwing froot loops at my window??"


Although Maddie moved out of that house after graduation, I still can't help but feel attached to it, especially the stoop where I spent so much time just talking before going back home.
During freshman year, I started staying after school to do Model UN work. I'd spend hours at the Reg until I wanted to smack someone over the head with my AP books. That carefree persona that I had embraced when I was younger somehow dissolved through high school. The cause? A mix of pressure from myself, pressure from my parents to be a straight-A student, pressure from peers, and downward spiral of events that just left a shell of who I was. That probably comes off as really melodramatic, but I definitely don't think that the Stephanie I was in middle school would approve of the Stephanie I became in high school. Then again, I don't think the Stephanie I was in high school would approve of the Stephanie people know me as now either.

I miss the naiveté of thinking everything would be ok and I would never be hurt or let myself be hurt because I thought I had that kind of control. I miss the self-confidence I had going into high school, thinking that the possibilities were endless and I would end up at Brown or Penn. I miss not having to think about the future. I miss thinking of myself as a person who would never hurt anyone I loved, be it as a friend or as more than that.

I've recently realized that I have next to no ability to compartmentalize all of my thoughts. I let things from my personal life constantly get in the way of my academic life. I'm barely scraping by this quarter by doing the minimum amount of work at very poor quality just because I haven't been able to concentrate at all. I try to make myself busy by participating in a bunch of different events but at the end of the day, it hasn't worked that well. I try to talk to people about everything and my friends have been amazing about it but they can't make me stop thinking about everything.

I want to be able to accept where I am in life and what has happened, especially recently. I was watching a TV show while sitting in the common room today and I smiled and my friend said, "Sometimes I hate that smile. On the one hand, I know it's because you're really happy. On the other, I wish you used it more in relation to things that happened in reality to you." And I simply responded with, "I don't want to come back to reality. It hurts." And as soon as that was out of my mouth, I realized how ridiculous that assertion was. Whether I like it or not, I'm growing up. Sure, I can keep looking back on who I was ten or even 2 years ago, but will dwelling in the past help anything?

The "What if"s swarm around my head like an annoying bunch of flies. As another friend here recently told me, "you need to keep doing things like wishing on stars and making wishes at 11:11 because when you stop doing that, it's like you're giving up completely." Right now I'm so scared that I'll completely lose that childlike innocence of thinking wishes at 11:11 can come true. I'm scared that, just like a lot of my friends in high school, my friends in college will soon fade and fall out of touch. I'm so scared of giving up; I'm so scared of moving forward and leaving the past behind; scared that I'll make the same mistakes again. But if I keep living in the past and keep letting the "what if"s attack me, I know it'll ultimately drive me past insanity.

I need to keep making wishes at 11:11.
I need to let myself be happy in reality.
I need to accept that I'm growing up and I need to concentrate on doing well in classes.

I need to let the past go.

Corner #1

So somehow within the span of a month with blogspot, I fell back into a very similar problem that I had with my Xanga. I guess it's time for a new approach. The new theme is inspired by the song "My Little Corner of the World" by Yo La Tengo. I'm going to take photos of and write descriptions or paste bits of dialogue about different places that have played/still play some significant role in my life. I guess the purpose is to serve as a means of reflection on the past more than anything. So here it goes...

Corner #1: The rightmost bench in the UChicago quads

Thursday, January 18, 2007 (I'll just use "A" for any other people in these posts, "S" for myself)
[20:52] A: stephanie
[20:52] S: yeah?
[20:53] A: what are you doing after school tomorrow?
[20:53] S: nothing, why?
[20:53] A: can you go walk around downtown with me? or something?
[20:54] S: Is everything okay?
[20:54] A: not really
[20:54] A: i just need to talk with you
[20:55] A: oddly enough your the only person i trust
[20:55] S: yeah sure that's fine. you know I'm here for you
...
[21:06] S: Could we meet in the quads? It's just nicer to read there
[21:06] A: ok sounds good
[21:08] S: okay
[21:09] A: this means a lot
[21:10] S: really, it's okay. I'm here for you
[21:12] A: thank you

January 19, after school, on the phone: with person, let's call her B:
B: what're you up to?
S: Well, I'm sitting here in the quads waiting for a friend who said they wanted to talk. I guess they aren't coming though.
30 minutes and 3 unanswered phone calls to A later, S goes home.

January 21, S still hasn't talked to A:
[01:14] S: okay, so this may sound like I'm going crazy, but why is it so hard for you to just respond "I'm fine"?
[01:17] S: damn it. I care about you so much more than I'm supposed to.
[01:29] S: you know how much I care about you and yet you can't even take the time to type "i'm ok" or "ctn" or something?

January 24; first contact of S with A since the 18th:
[23:05] S: hey, I can get you the next $400 by next Tuesday if you want
[23:06] A: that sounds good

which brings us back to May 15, 2006, when the payment plan was first established:
S: i know you don't want to think of yourself as meaning that much in my life. i know the very thought disgusts you. but i don't care. you were the only person from school who ever showed they really cared about me
S: and you were there for me through everything and there is nothing i could ever do to repay you for that
A: well cash is nice
...
A: um how high can i go
S: if you want me paying you 100/ month for life then as high as you'd like
S: i hope you know i'm serious about this
A: then do that


It's hard to believe that was almost 3 years ago. It's been over 2 months since the last time I spoke to A which is the most time that has passed between us in silence since 8th grade. It's a good silence though. To this day it's hard for me to understand why I agreed to the payment plan at all. They always say that people in love resort to irrational things but that was just so extreme that it scares me a little.
I guess what I need to do now is make sure I don't fall back into that same mistake of being irrational, clingy, and emotional with a person I might have fallen in love with. I know I fucked up and I'll have to live with that for a really long time, but somehow it needs to turn out differently this time. For his sake.

On Apologies

When it comes right down to it, sometimes "sorry" just doesn't explain how I feel. It's just a word that you say when you do something wrong and it's supposed to make everything magically better. But does it make sense to say the same word when you accidentally flat tire someone's flip flop while they're walking as when you really just messed up and you don't know what else to say? I don't think so. And what happens if the other person doesn't believe you? What happens when "sorry" just isn't enough? What else can you do? How can you show that you're sorry without being seen as clingy?

On the offchance that you read this before you leave (you should know who you are), I hope you know that I'm facing these questions right now. I don't know why you'd read this after I told you not to. For some reason I thought you were the kind of person that kind of thing works on, but I realize now that you wouldn't read this if I told you not to.
Anyway, I don't know what made me rush to conclusions about how you feel. I know I shouldn't have issued that ultimatum to you but there's nothing I can do to change the past. I've already crossed the line into clingy; believe me, I'm aware of that. I just can't believe that I fucked up one of the most amazing things that's happened to me. There doesn't seem to be anything I can say to make you realize how much our relationship means to me (yes, I'm still using present tense. I'm still kind of in denial). It doesn't make sense that it's only been a few hours and I miss you but I do. When I was panicking before my final, I just wanted you to be there holding me like you were there yesterday. It sucks to know I won't see you for a week. I know you want time but I still wish we didn't have to leave things like this.

On Finals

What is it about finals that makes you just want to crawl up in a secluded corner and do absolutely nothing? For instance, the other day I went down by the lake and just watched ducks instead of studying for statistics. I remember back in high school when finals used to be considered a huge deal and everyone would get together and have "study parties" in preparation for that Tuesday and Wednesday at the end of every school year when we'd all crowd into IHouse, Judd 126, or the cafeteria and sit through the pain of multivariable calculus or biology or something.

I don't know what it is about college that makes everything seem different than it was in high school. It's still the same concept after all: have a gigantic monstrosity of a test worth a ridiculously high percent of your grade. The panic I felt before the tests in high school is stronger than ever. The second-guessing on every question is still there. But somehow it seems different.

Now I'm just sitting here blogging instead of studying for economics. I know the panic will set in soon enough. I hate when people see me in that mode. No one here has seen it at its peak yet and I hope no one will just because I know I'd be difficult to console and I don't want anyone to have to do that. I just wish it wasn't the case with every test or quiz or presentation. I remember in junior year when Ms. Aquino bluntly told me this was something I needed to deal with in order to "reach my full potential", whatever that means. Well, I'm dealing... sort of.

T minus 8 hours and 26 minutes until test time.
(who is T anyway? why does he get to minus things?)

On Falling in Love

So it's 2:26 AM and I'm sitting here writing about good ol' Petrarch and his monstrous crush on this girl named Laura... consumption of his heart by love, fear and grief and helplessness, etc etc.
I just opened up my Lit folder to find the prompt sheet for the paper and was faced instead with a list that I made during econ discussion section a few weeks ago (no wonder I'm failing. :P) in response to a question my friend asked me the night before. I'll transcribe it below:

You know that you are in love with someone when...
~ you're lying/sitting around and your mind wanders to thoughts about the other person and you can't help but smile
~ you can just sit in absolute silence with the other person and it just feels right; there's no awkwardness, just understanding and comfort
~ you feel like you would do anything for the other person no matter what
~ you trust the other person with secrets and parts of your past and can tell them these secrets and feel safe about doing so
~ you trust the other person not to purposely hurt you
~ you can just see the person for a few seconds but they instantly make you a little bit happier
~ the other person makes you feel good about yourself, despite insecurities you might have
~ you find yourself wondering how the person is doing even though you just saw them
~ you find yourself thinking about the other person all the time
~ you randomly look up things the other person has mentioned he/she likes so that you can find out more about it and try to talk to the other person about it
~ you smile at the little quirks that the other person has
~ you try hard to spend a lot of time with the other person
~ you feel you can just be yourself- all of yourself- craziness, quirkiness, happiness, depression, can be shown (all the layers of the onion are peeled so to speak) down to when you feel the most vulnerable, and you still feel comfortable with the other person and they know the whole and real you
~ you find yourself wishing that time could just stop so you could spend more hours with the other person
~ you feel comfortable and safe when you're with the other person
~ you can't seem to find words that are sufficient/adequate enough to tell the other person about how much they mean to you and how much you care about them
~ it scares you how much you think about the other person and want to do things to make the other person happy but you can't help yourself.
~ it sucks every time you say goodbye because you just don't want to let go
~ you can talk to the other person for hours and still feel like you can keep going
~ something happens to you (doesn't matter how insignificant it seems) and your instinct is to go tell the other person
~ you start experiencing that Mean Girls "word vomit" phenomenon where you can't seem to stop bringing the other person up in conversations you have with people
~when saying "I love you" doesn't even seem to be enough because ultimately, it's really just three words

With that, it's time to get back to writing my paper.