Wednesday, May 14, 2014

Waiting for planes is boring

I'm really glad I brought my laptop. I had an internship application to finish, so I did that, and now I don't really know what to do...

I'm going to blog! Blogging is a thing.


So all these college seniors were graduating, and it felt weird that even though it's been just a year since I graduated high school, soon enough, I'll be in their shoes. I overheard a conversation that one senior girl, Nicole, had been having with a freshman guy.

He asked, "What does it feel like? Graduating?"

She pondered for a second before replying, "I feels like... you're floating. And you don't know where you fit in with the world. You don't know what you're going to do with your life. Before, there was always something, like a grade, or after high school, there was college to look forward to. But now-"

Now, after fulfilling an Arabic and Middle Eastern studies major, she'll be tending her parent's rose garden in the middle of farm-y, internet-expelled, nowhere.

And so here I am, the summer after my freshman year, freaking out about floating.

What will happen after college?
I don't know!
Can anyone really know?

I'd applied to college as a poli-sci major hoping to fulfill my mother's lifelong dream that I will continue the Acaylar lawyer legacy. "Your grandmother was an attorney, and I was an attorney in the Philippines-" So, the burden of completing the triad was bestowed upon me.

But I kind of feel the same way about being a lawyer as Ronald Weasley feels about walking into a forest full of spiders.

So now, I'm on track to being a double major in Biology (pre-med) and Studio Art in order to have some doctor-by-day, artist-by-night deal...
but I have this nagging feeling that my art will suffer because I'll have to spend years and years and years studying cell organelles before I get to take someone's temperature and prescribe cough medication.

I already have a 4-year plan whipped up that encompasses all my pre-med and studio art requirements, but it means taking an extra class load every year, which- as I did that this semester- is killer to my sanity and social life.

My roommate suggested I drop some classes and be a studio art minor...

But but but

But I know my gpa's dropping since my class load is too heavy.

Should I drop art and become full-throttle pre-med instead?

Being a doctor would make me financially stable, but I'm worried that I'd be plagued with regret. Never publishing a children's book. Never publishing a comic in the New Yorker. Never getting one of my paintings into the MOMA! (Yes, I have high hopes).

Is that my problem?

Am I too much of a dreamer?

Obviously, my mom says, "You either have to go into law or medicine."
Which makes sense because I'm smart enough and she doesn't want me ending up like this...

But like, I really want to illustrate children's books. #Innerconflict

I made this graphic representation of my life thus far.


And my friends Cindy and OT (who are econ majors) criticized the shit out of it. OT was bothered by the fact that my percentages didn't add up to 100% and that I didn't put the bars in the same order, and Cindy said my graph was completely NOT economically correct.

So she made this one.
U= utility (happiness)
W= money

Assume: Money makes you happy.

At Chicago O'Hare Airport 
So, I'm sitting in the same row as this middle-aged lady in a polka dot blouse who thinks she's really funny. She's calling a bunch of people on her phone and saying things like, "Hey, I haven't seen you in 10 days. You could be dead! I'm just calling you to make sure you're not dead!" 
"Her name is Sue! She's Japanese. Pennsylvania will not exist next time I go there. Due to a Sue-nami! Hahaha." 

I'm confused. 

Also, I decided to treat myself to a fancy Italian meal. It was two skewers of moist, grilled chicken with verde sauce with a side of broiled potatoes and spicy asparagus, and oh my god, it was the most real food I've eaten in a long time. If dining hall food is mehhhh, this entree was YAY! Oh, how I missed actual food. 

There was an Asian father and his son (around 40) sitting at the both beside me. There were in a rush. I love watching rushed people at airports. When their order was being taken, the dialogue went like this:

Waiter *hands men their menus*
Dad: Can you be fast? We have a flight soon.
Waiter: Oh, I can take your order now!
Dad: *before glancing at menu, announces* I want pasta!
-awkward pause-
Dad: So, which one is good?
Waiter: Oh! This one!
Dad: I'll take a small one.
Waiter: There's one size...
Dad: Yeah! Okay! 

Anyway, back to the marginal utility graph.
I, apparently, don't like to take risks. So my graph would look like this.

So the pink represents Studio Art and the green represents Bio. And their mean utility-wealth coordinate is the blue/star.

But what bothers me about this graph is that money doesn't equate happiness in my world.
Maybe because I'm young and naive.
But what can money buy?

Fancy clothes.

I really don't give a shit about that kind of stuff though!


But money can also buy:

a home
plane tickets (I love traveling)
art supplies

Why can't I just magically get rich and be free to spend the rest of my life painting pictures? 

Still at Chicago Airport

Mom, if you're reading this, you need to stop sending me to Chicago. My flight always gets either delayed or cancelled. It's getting ridiculous.

Flying over San Jose
It's nearly midnight (meaning 3 a.m. Eastern Standard Time, so I'm tired af). But the lights are gorgeous. It's like the ground is on fire. Or a bunch of tiny gems are shining, each with radiating some magical inner light, to greet our plane's arrival. The Indian dude next to me, he's like, a business man, is sleeping. (I think he hates me because, I'm in the window seat, so when I had to pee- I held it as long as I could, but now, I was going to burst!- I nudged his shoulder. He kept snoring, so I said, a bit too loudly, "Excuse me? I have to pee-" He jumped up and gave a manly "AH!" And proceeded to push the Chinese guy to his right (a mechanical engineer in his mid-20's who was flying to his new job as a laptop case designer). The Chinese guy looked at him startled, and the Indian guy tiredly nodded in my direction. So they moved into the aisle.)  Glad to be back home.

No comments:

Post a Comment