Filed under: Boston, California, Everybody is Emo. | Tags: Feelings, Happiness, Life
So. . .I think for the most part I have been happily nested in the city of Boston, content only because I am comforted by the fact that I am far far away with a chance to renew the person I didn’t want to be in California. I am naturally a free-spirited person, naive and spontaneous to say the least, but somehow I have ended up exactly where I didn’t want to be. Insecure and alone.
I thought that by leaving California I would become a more stronger and more independent person. I thought I could find my passion, the ONE THING that’s going to keep me happy forever. I discovered that I am a person that needs to chill when it comes to having high hopes. Now, It’s hard to gauge whether Boston has helped me improve as a person or not–I don’t really have a metric system with which to measure this marginalized improvement. I guess I can only rely on my feelings–which is probably one of my most unreliable attributes. My feelings, those mushy things that plague the pits of my heart and stomach, are the most erratic, unpredictable, and dangerous entity that I’ve ever come to face. Do I feel any different being in Boston as opposed to California? Not really. The desire to be somewhere else still remains, no matter where I go.
And now that’s got me thinking about the idea of being content. I mentioned before that I was content with my nest in Boston. Quick segue, isn’t it funny that the word “contentious” has the exact opposite meaning of “content?” English is a funny language. Anyway, being content is something I’ve always questioned. Why would you want to be content? Is it okay if you end up being a spud on a couch with the zero brain wavelengths floating around in your head? If you were just a perfectly dandy simpleton, is that really okay, because as long as you’re content, life is okay? I refuse to believe so.
I honestly believe that you must always feel something. If you’re not happy, then you’re either sad or in pain or something close to that nature. All I know is that I always feel a tug of mushy feelings and whether I like it or not, at least I know I’m alive and aware, and not a SPUD.
All of this has been sparked by the mere fact that life is telling me to get off my fat ass in Boston. I feel like I’ve been sleeping in a deep slumber, and am now being SHOVED off the bed. Good-bye Boston, HELLO California, Neutrogena, China, and the future.
Her name was Rebecca Payne. Yesterday morning at 7 am she was found dead in her apartment on Mission Hill. The police are still investigating on whether the murder was intentional or not.
Here’s the article. RIP Rebecca Payne.
It’s so scary to hear about murders or accidental deaths so close to you. Last year, a transfer student that lived in my building (who was also from CA) had died from falling down the stairs at the local bar. Apparently he had been laying at the bottom of the stairs for a couple of hours before anyone found him. I was actually there that night and I remember they had kicked everyone out really early all of a sudden–I remember thinking it so strange and I didn’t find out why until a couple days later.
I think that same week, a student from MassArt got caught under the wheels of a big rig truck while he was riding his bicycle. Another girl from NU had died in a tubing accident on a student-organized trip. Later that month, the whole shooting incident at Virginia Tech occurred.
I think about these people and how we all shared the commonality of being students–all working towards similar goals in creating a better future. Like me, they all woke up every morning, to do those little or big things that needed to be done in order to fulfill their ambitions. It makes me sad that they weren’t able to. Their lives were taken so early.
The thought of death terrifies me. I’m not afraid of the act of dying–I am afraid of not living. The even more terrifying thing about death is that you never know when it’s going to happen. This is why I live my life the way I do–I live as freely and spontaneously as possible. I am impulsive. I selfishly want my life to be constantly filled with action, adventure and pleasant surprises. Because ultimately, I can’t leave this world behind knowing that I woke up that morning feeling unfulfilled.
We have to live as much life as we can, to commemorate those who weren’t able to. “we gotta steal the time of a life that’s passing by.”
Filed under: Boston, California, Politics | Tags: Basketball, Boston, California, Cavaliers suck, Celtics, Same-Sex Marriage
Hooray for Same-Sex Marriage!!!
Oh, I have done so much research on this topic in the past and although I haven’t kept up with the details since I wrote a research paper on it back at U. of Redlands, I must say that it puts a big smile on my face. I am in complete favor for same-sex marriage, because I think it’s silly that this entire argument is based off of a bible definition.
Marriage – the social institution under which a man and woman establish their decision to live as husband and wife by legal commitments, religious ceremonies, etc.
People worry that if we allow same-sex marriage, this will foster a questionable environment for future generations–and *gasp*–more and more children will become exposed to the gay community. Misconceptions such as: more gay marriages will create more families as adoption rates increase, thus the upbringing of perhaps more gay children who will go the schools with [our] children. As if it’s some type of disease. This assumption is certainly irrational. I think it will only benefit those children without families, as they’ll have increased opportunities to find a love-fostering home with the addition of more committed couples.
Anyway, that’s just one single thread of the convoluted argument. Others say that this legalization may have sealed the deal on a REPUBLICAN seat in the White House. Supposedly, this issue four years ago was John Kerry’s fall. I’m not so sure…we’ll see if Americans are stupid enough to put McCain in the White House this year. George Bush part II.
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GO CELTICS!!!
You may questioning why I am rooting for the Celtics…the only answer I can provide is below:
Kevin Garnett is the man.
WATCH THE FINAL GAME:
CELTICS VS. CAVS @ HOME (Boston)
May 18, Sunday, 3:30PM!
What is Cinco de Mayo and why should we care? Because it’s Mexico’s Independence Day of course!–NOT. Actually, Mexico’s official Independence day is September 16–and it is one of Mexico’s most important holidays. Cinco de Mayo, the 5th of May, is actually a holiday created by Americans to commemorate and
celebrate Mexico’s victory against the French in the “Battle of Puebla” in 1862. The first American celebrations began in California in 1863 and this holiday is actually very much disregarded and ignored in Mexico.
Interesting, Interesting. Just another reason to go out and drink! It’s like celebrating St. Patty’s day except you don’t wear green, you wear taco costumes. Instead of Irish car bombs, you do body shots of tequila and drink margaritas! Perhaps that margarita will taste better today than it usually does 364 days out of the year.
Speaking of Mexican food, I just got back from LA and now remain in this desolate ghost town of Boston. Half of the college population has left the premises and ventured off into a beautiful summer destination. I was actually kind of sad when I went out for a run today–there weren’t as many people to bump into and no one to yell at to get out of my way!
Boston in the summer is amazing. The city has so much charisma and you can just feel the buzz of energy by all the excitement in the homecoming of warm weather, flip flops, red sox games, fenway dogs, constant frisbees flying through the air, cold beers (not that I would know), and shopping on Newbury Street!! I especially can’t wait to become close friends with that ol’ Dirty Water. My goal for the summer is to complete one loop from the Longfellow Bridge to the BU Bridge (which is about 7.5 miles, found on the boston runner’s map).
Despite all that talk about warm weather…I think it’s supposed to rain this weekend 
Boston weather is so moody.
