Just keep swimming, or so they say

Mixed emotions about things right now. Life is exciting, but at the same time it is kind of just barely afloat. An “exciting” thing is happening to me (or rather, my nonexistent love life), per the opinion of my girl friends, but I am feeling incredibly apprehensive about it I’m surprised I haven’t vomited my anxiety out yet.

The quarter-life crisis has waned a little since my moment of panic in May. But at the same time I think it’s just been abated due to the hectic craziness that is summer. After all, what is going to happen when all the kiddos go back to school and it’s too cold to be doing things outdoors? (Although, come to think of it, it’s been bloody cold [relatively speaking] all summer in Chicago, fuck you January polar vortex) I’m just going to have to re-face the reality that is my current twentysomething state: stuck in a job that I love but does not pay enough, stuck in a house with a family that I love but is driving me crazy, stuck in a town with people and things that I love and are familiar with but at the same time feeling jaded. Huh.

To make matters worse, my 25th birthday is coming up. That’s my golden birthday, mind you. I don’t know how to feel about it. I don’t like setting high expectations for things because ultimately in the end they are never reached, but at the same time I don’t want to be feeling so depressed on my golden birthday. I guess I’m just sad because I know this birthday won’t be like my last one. Maybe it’ll be fun (I’ve plans to go paintballing [!] and attending Chicago Comic Con [!!]) but it will most definitely not be the same because my last birthday was the only birthday I got to spend with a certain someone. And this year I will certainly feel the heavy weight of his absence from my life. Gahh.

Day of reckoning

Today is my 22nd birthday and I am officially no longer a fountain of youth. My birthday has become even more irreversibly sad and pathetic because I’m just going to get older, and if people forget about my birthday now, they’ll never remember it in the future.

I’ve never gotten a surprise birthday party before in my life, whilst on the other hand I’ve attended many. Nobody ever gave me balloons or decorated my locker while in high school. Nobody ever came bouncing into my dorm room at midnight sophomore year to wish me a happy birthday; instead they just sauntered in to retrieve a forgotten object (that little jibe right there is directed at one of my former roommates, whom I will love forever but I can’t say I’ve ever forgiven her for that transgression). Nobody ever really took the time out of their day to make mine special.

Most of the time on my birthday I end up going through the day in awkward silence. The first day of high school was on my birthday, and I didn’t know a single soul then. And so, not a single person wished me happy birthday. Even after that, most people forgot about my birthday because they were too busy being excited about the beginning of the school year/end of summer. In Costa Rica some people knew about my birthday (and my host family even made me a cake and sang to me), but I badly wanted to be with my friends and family at home, who were having celebrations without me.

Today was my third day at my new internship, and the only person to come up and greet me was the receptionist, who then presented me with a pre-signed card. Now, I’m not stupid, I didn’t expect anyone at my new job to even know my name much less know it was my birthday. But still. It’s kind of sad to go through a day with nobody knowing it’s supposed to be all about you.

All right, enough pitiful stories. But now, can’t you all see why it is I fucking hate my birthday?

Overwhelmed with this growing up thing

Sometimes I think I’m so ready to be an adult. Have a job, make money, and not be restrained back by school or homework or assignments. Then there are times, like today, where I want to crawl back to college because I had friends there and ruled the town and didn’t really care much about impressing my superiors or hoping that I really really don’t fuck up at my jobs. (For the most part. I mean, obviously I cared in school, otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to get my degree.)

I have worked nearly 47 hours in the past seven days in entirely new jobs. And in-between all that I managed to drive down to Champaign for a night and got crazy with the roommates (er, ex-roommates I should say, I guess). I even finished reading Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel García Márquez, which I started over a year-and-a-half ago. I feel so grown up! I’m reading for fun, I’m being social, I’m working. Like an adult. But along with that I’m starting to fret over my student loans, paying credit card bills, and finding money for a revamped work wardrobe (that’s another thing…in college all I wore was sweats and t-shirts…or slutty club tops). I miss being innocent and naive about things. I miss having my friends within a 2-mile radius of me, instead of all over the world. Oh well.

On a less whiny note, the first day of my internship today went pretty well. It’s just always awkward being new anywhere, I guess. And seriously, it’s the story of my life and one of the reasons why I hate my birthday. My first day of high school was on my birthday (did I mention I went from a small private grade school to a large public high school where I knew about 0.2% of the population?). Hell, I spent my birthday last year in a foreign country where at the time I knew next to no one. And now I’ve started two brand new jobs where I’m the new kid who doesn’t know anything and is worried about making good impressions.

Ack, okay, okay. I’m going to stop whining and acting like my life is so terrible. Because it really isn’t. Actually, I’m quite content. I’m employed, my home life has been relatively calm this whole summer, and I go out to the city every weekend with friends I’ve managed to surround myself with again. You know that song “Good Life” by OneRepublic? It’s currently my song of the moment, because I’m definitely feeling the message: This could really be a good life.

And while I’m talking about music I’m currently listening to, I must talk about this song:

I freaking love Miguel. He just sounds so soulful and quirky at the same time. Plus in this song he talks about speaking Spanish but then “accidentally” sings in Portuguese instead. You can’t get any more awesome than that.

Clearing the air

It’s hard to believe that I’ve only been here in Costa Rica for almost a week. I have so many emotions rolling through me right now I don’t quite know how to handle them. Admittedly, I didn’t come here with the best attitude. There were just so many things about the end of my summer that had upset me so much, and even right now I can’t help but still feel so angry thinking about them. I was so upset and disappointed in a lot of people. It was my last month at home, my birthday month, and it felt like nobody gave a shit. No one tried to hang out or talk with me, nor did a lot of people show up to either of my birthday/going away parties. Some might say that things like that can’t be helped; people were busy, couldn’t make it, etc. But I still can’t help but feel like I don’t mean anything at all to a lot of people. No matter how much fun people think I am, no matter how much effort I put into being a good friend, it still feels like nobody has ever bothered to do the same. Year after year.

My last visit to Champaign was a joke and a waste, nor was my last day at home the peaceful worry-free good-bye it should have been. My birthday was even more of a joke. I don’t know anyone who’s ever had to deal with having a birthday the day after landing in a completely foreign country, but let me tell you it is not fun. As nice as my host family was in making me a small card, cake and everything, it hurt not being around people who could have made it even more special. Although I don’t know why I think that would have been possible; my birthday has always been a fucking joke and sometimes I feel like I should just erase it from the calendar because it’s pointless.

And I can’t believe that I’m seriously writing about all this when I should be retelling every adventure so far of this study abroad experience. Guess I just needed to clear the air first so I can really enjoy my time here in Costa Rica without all this bullshit lingering in my mind. Hasta luego…


Valle de Orosi

That night was a good night

So due to some sort of security issue with new servers at E-Starr, I had to reinstall my WordPress. Hopefully all should be dandy now. The new server kept blocking me for the past couple of weeks, and it was getting extremely frustrating. I’ll re-upload my theme and reinstall plugins when I get the chance.

This past weekend was my roommate Amanda’s 21st! Needless to say, it was an extremely epic event. Every 21st birthday I have helped to celebrate thus far has yet to disappoint me. Since her birthday was yesterday (Sunday night), we celebrated Saturday night by having a hardcore pregame at our apartment, and then headed out to the bars. What was extremely irritating at first, however, was that Brothers refused to give her a 21+ wristband because “it was still the 3rd” and she ended up having to wait an hour and a half for it. Ridiculous. Everybody then proceeded to get drunk out of their minds (me included :D), I danced with a married man pretty much the entire night (I quote, “It’s not like I’m trying to have sex with you!”), had to chug a Long Island that someone bought me just before we were due to leave, and my roommate danced around barefoot (gross) as well as atop the stools.

All in all, it was a successful night.