Winter of Discontent

I was walking back from the Mo'ian after turning in my design project (to the wire! Oh the adrenaline rush/stress of a hard news deadline!), when I noticed this couple in front of me walking. They were about the same height, both slim, both white, both wearing comfortable tailored shirts; his blue, hers pink. She had long loose blonde pigtails, and both of their appearances just said "I'm both comfortable AND cool."
And I thought: that's what I expected college relationships to be.

And then I found myself thinking: what does that say about MY college relationships? What does that mean?

I had the impression was both hard and easy. (not sure where I got this idea, but go with me here). I thought the classes were acceptably hard, intellectually stimulating and interesting all/most of the time. People had plenty of time to hang out and have fun, which was abundant. I'd either have one steady boyfriend that I was more likely than not to marry or would flit contentedly from captivating boyfriend to captivating boyfriend. I'd get to live wherever I want, no big deal. I'd have a car, reasonably fashionable. I'd always be cute, even when I wasn't spending particular attention to how I looked. Getting a job would be a bit of work, but nothing overwhelming. I'd study abroad, somewhere fabulous. And getting a degree would be no big deal.

And I had to draw a picture of my version of Adam and I to try to help myself understand how my life really is. (too bad I can't show you; it isn't worth it. just a pen sketch in the back of my ancient novel spiral). Adam is over a foot taller than me, and black (sometimes a point of contention...not his blackness, but his blackness in relation to me). We have been dating two years and its great, but neither of us has marriage anywhere on our minds. I could not honestly describe myself as 'slim' and neither of us could be called 'tailored.' Today I was out wearing ratty old tennis shoes, jeans, an old FARC t-shirt (free stuff!), my hair in an incredibly haphazard ponytail, out by myself after stressing over another Mo'ian assignment and picking up another, more stressful, assignment. My hair is continually haphazard, and I am hardly ever presentably cute. I have no idea where I'm going to live next year: It is easily described, as Becky put it, as the Great Apartment War of '07. I have a silent, hateful relationship with The Roommate. No way in hell I'm getting a car. Studying abroad is highly unlikely. Classes are either excruciatingly demanding or a yawn. One teacher today actually said, "so, when you're god is an erect phallus, what are you going to do?" Classic literature. Getting a degree/job makes me exceptionally nervous.

But what does all of this mean? I don't know. I've been restless lately; imagining myself as someone who doesn't care about responsibility, flits from party to party or at the very least entertainment to entertainment. Imagining myself up and leaving for ...somewhere. Spending money on books, DVDs, games, a new wardrobe that is always irrestistably fashionable. Of shedding all elements that lead to discontentment with body image and life in general.

I have no conclusion. You tell me, I guess.


...I had to look up the title quote to make sure I got it right. In my fantasy of college, I would just know that it was Shakespeare, Henry III. I disappoint myself.