Sometimes I mull over issues for so long that they grow and grow in my mind. When I finally get around to articulating those thoughts, I inevitably leave something out.

Despite all my grumblings about class and college and such I know I am so incredibly luck for the opportunities I have. I am lucky enough to have a mother who pays for my college education so I can focus on my studies and not worry about a job. I am lucky for the friends I have made here at school. I am grateful to be in college and learning when I could be elsewhere. I am so thankful for the chance to be here. And from now on I plan on cherishing what I have and not squander it away.

I am a third-year sociology major at a highly ranked public university. I am one student out of thousands and dozens of times a day I feel inadequate and unimportant. I love the field of sociology, but sometimes it can suck the joy out of things. A large chunk of soc work is studying inequality and one thing I’ve learned is that people like me don’t really get Ph.Ds.

When I first entered college, I had no idea what I wanted to study. I wasn’t too worried though, I knew I’d find something; at the very least I could fall back on English. So long as it wasn’t Physics, I figured I’d be okay. Then I found sociology and loved it. Still do. I then realized that a Bachelor’s in sociology really doesn’t mean much of anything. I loved the research of sociology, the theory, the completely new way of looking at the world. I didn’t want to leave that to use my degree as an administrative assistant or some other office job. I wanted to study society and I learned the only way to do that was through grad school.

By second year I had decided to definitely go, but I knew nothing about grad school. I didn’t even know of its existence before college. But I figured I’d somehow wind up in grad school, eventually. But by the end of my second year, beginning of third, doubt started to creep in. I started becoming more aware of why I disliked and didn’t fit in at my college. My university enjoys touting its diversity, but frankly I don’t see it. I don’t see much racial or socioeconomic diversity and I’m starting to learn just how much of my identity and perspective has been shaped by these factors. I am a half-Asian, lower-middle class person and it’s difficult for me to relate to a predominantly white and upper-middle/upper class student body. It feels like we’re speaking two different languages.

In sociology I learned about this term, cultural capital. I’m not sure if I’m using it in exactly the right way, but here at college I lack a lot of cultural capital that many of my peers received as they were growing up. I grew up in a town where the majority of students either go to community college or no college at all. Wal-Mart and the Tractor Supply Co. are places to socialize. Getting a Target was good news because it was nicer than Wal-Mart and people could get away from the blacks from the city who had “infiltrated” the shopping center (not an attitude I share, but it was prevalent where I lived nonetheless. Yeah, to call my town racist is probably an understatement). My town thought it was the shit because it was expanding, getting a new Target and Best Buy and everything.

But it’s not the shit. It’s not a bad town though; it’s clean, safe, good schools, etc. I was lucky to have lived in a place that was as decent as that. But when you live in a town where people regularly wear their sweats around town, where buying from Abercrombie & Fitch is a true sign of status, it’s like a whole other world when you’re sent to a school where people regularly wear A&F, along with their Burberry coats, Whole Foods grocery stores, and effing North Face windbreakers and backpacks.

Over the past two and a half years I’ve become more aware of the culture I’m living in at college and aware of what I’m lacking. Cultural capital. I’ve realized, along with what I’ve learned in my sociology classes, but people like me generally don’t get Ph.Ds.

People like me who come from a lower middle-class family with divorced parents, one an immigrant and neither with college educations. Every single one of those qualities is a mark against me, statistically speaking.

And this got me down for most of my semester. It got to the point where I had already assumed I would never succeed in grad school, if (ha!) I actually made it in! I would never be able to get a Doctorate, silly silly me.

I came to a realization a few days ago. I sure as HELL am getting that damn Ph.D. I’m going to do it, regardless of what obstacles stand in my way because I feel it in my bones that research and teaching will make me happy and fulfilled. I may not be the best writer, but I’ll learn. I’ll learned to think in theories and analyze the shit out of people. I can’t go back to that town. Not because I think I’m better than them, but because I will never fit in or be happy there. I will never be happy in some office job either. But the only way I’ll make it where I want to be is if I start believing I am capable and worthwhile.

If I’m unhappy about something the worst thing you can say to me is, “Well, try to look on the bright side of things. Nothing ever gets done focusing on the bad,” or something to that effect. It infuriates me because you’re 1) telling me I should feel, when really, I’m well aware of how I should feel and 2) it shows me that you aren’t really listening to me and my issues. It’s so easy to say, “Buck up Chuck! The sun’ll come out tomorrow!” rather than listen to what’s really upsetting me and, hey, maybe even helping me come up with actual solutions!

Maybe some people do need to be reminded to be positive, and yes, I probably could stand to be more positive myself. But I’m aware of my negativity and for me to be at the point where I’m expressing it so means that it’s gone past the point where I can smile my way through it. By this point I’ve already tried to be cheerful and something is still lacking. By telling me to stop feeling how I am feeling and instead feel another way completely delegitimizes my problems. I’m not dealing with actual problems with my family or loneliness at college or crap teachers, it’s all my attitude.

NO! I’ve spent the longest time believing it really was all my fault and that if only I was a good enough person or if only I tried hard enough or if only I was more positive then it would be okay. Yes, my attitude is part of the solution, but FUCK sometimes there are problems outside of my body and my attitude. Sometimes I have trouble finding my place here at school and sometimes I have to deal with crappy teachers and sometimes I hate my body and sometimes I’m stressed and overwhelmed.

So maybe, listen? it’s hard as all hell, I get it, but maybe? Try to listen and understand that when I say, “God, I hate college,” I’m really saying, “God I hate how I feel so alone here and still haven’t found my niche and fear I never will. God I hate how inadequate I feel on a daily basis because I’m surrounded by all these over achievers and that my feelings of inadequacy stem from low self-worth or a self-worth based on things like grades and not based in the belief that what I am is worthy, not what I do or produce.” I’m dying to share all of this with you and hear you, but I get cut short when you say, “College isn’t that bad. You just gotta keep trying, because what do you get when you don’t try, right?”

I woke up at 8:30 this morning, made it out of the house by 8:37 and made the 8:40 bus. Yeah…don’t know whether to brag about this or hang my head in defeat.

It’s been a rough week. Why not let me enjoy the small victories, right?

So guess who just woke up! Guess who should have woken up three hours ago! Guess who slept through two of her classes, one that she’s already missed two times, now totaling up to a third absence… Guess who still hasn’t finished her essays.

Guess who has already checked out for the semester.

On Saturday Theory had auditions for the university’s drama department productions. Right after the audition she called me to basically freak out because she messed up her monologue, but also ramble about how it’s alright, yeah, it’s all good right? oh my god I messed up!

And so on.

I didn’t mind her calling me. In fact, I’m a little flattered. I like knowing that the first person she thinks to call is myself to share her good or bad news. Oftentimes I feel insecure in our friendship. She’s basically my best friend here at school, but I don’t know where I land in the hierarchy. I’m not saying I’ve got to be number one, but then again, no one wants to be more invested in a relationship than the other person (that’s a legitimate fear of mine). Plus, she’s always telling me how she needs to make more friends, find her niche. I respect that and I understand that not everyone is satisfied with only a few close friends; they need a group. But I have to resist the fear of being left behind. And I think that fear is increased because, like I said, I’m insecure of my place in our friendship. What does it mean to her? Are we just friends because we were forced together first year?

Logically I know that our friendship must mean something to her, why else would she want to live with me and why else would do so much for my birthday and a bunch of other reasons. But friendships and relationships are really about logic, are they? They’re about trusting someone and hoping to god it won’t blow up in your face (another fear of mine). So to me, her calling me right after her audition to talk to me about it means more than a phone call.

I should be in bed right now.

Sigh.

Liking fantasy boys is so much easier than liking REAL boys because with fantasy boys there is no awkwardness ever. Or at least, the awkwardness is always endearing.

So as to avoid annoying my friends (and also their mockery) I’ll share my squee moment here. On Monday this guy I kindofsortofmaybeateensybit like came in the lecture hall, saw me, and then sat right next to me! We’ve sometimes sat next to each other before, but usually there’s an empty seat between us and we don’t really talk. Today he sat next to me again!! We chatted about our test and classes.

I’m the worst when it comes to liking a boy because I’m so awkward and I just plain never do anything about it. I legitimately don’t know how to flirt, and I don’t really know if it’s something I want to learn anyway. I’m really passive. Or I just plain lie to myself. Nope, I don’t like him. Or I’ll talk myself out of it. How can you like him? You didn’t learn his name until a month ago.

I have three major, huge projects all due on November 23. Ugh. But for now I won’t complain about school (too much).

living in my own (and small – roughly 11×7) dorm room is not that much of an adjustment for me from living with a roommate. This probably because during the summer I spend most of my time alone anyway, so going to college and having my own room isn’t all that jarring. I rarely see my roommate from last year, Bear, because she’s so busy. We caught up for dinner the other day and she’s so frazzled and stressed over work.

“I miss coming home to you,” she said. “You grounded me.”

I smiled and gave a sympathetic sound. But wanna know a secret? I don’t miss living with her at all. She’s a good friend, but not an ideal roommate for me. Since we had dinner I’ve realized how much relief I’ve felt since living alone because as soon as she comes home i’m not longer innundated with whatever the crisis of the week is – she’s too tired, so she can’t get her work done, and now her teachers hate her; she forgot to turn in an assignment so she needs to plead to her professor; she likes a jackass from church and keeps asking me what she should text back to him. It’s crisis after crisis and in the midst of it I lost myself and my own problems. She wasn’t there to listen to my problems. It’s weird because everyone else considers her an AMAZING listener. Maybe I had to be more direct?

Now I can come home and deal with her crises, but my own concerns and worries, as well as joys. I can live my life on my own schedule as well; I hate making plans with her because she’s so imprecise. “When’s dinner?” “Um…around six.” Six o’clock comes and I’m ready to go eat, but she’s not. Hey, I’m a control freak and I want to know when’s dinner!

I’ve also realized that her crises put me on edge a lot, and I directed a lot of frustration towards her all the damn time. A part of it is my own problem. Growing up anytime something got screwed up I was the one to pick up the slack. My sister and Mom got in a fight at work, and now my sister refuses to work – guess who’s workweek suddenly doubles. My Dad shows up in a drunken rage, guess who has to clean up the mess afterwards and comfort Mom. So on anytime someone doesn’t show up, doesn’t do their job, doesn’t do whatever it is they say they’re going to do, I become irrationally mad. I think on some level I fear everyone will also expect me pick up the pieces and fix it. So imagine being around my roommate and her constant crises of the week. My first reaction is to get mad because in the past whenever there’s a crisis it was me who had to clean it up. But that’s unfair to Bear because she usually doesn’t expect me to actually do anything. She’s aware that she’s put herself in that situation and it’s her fault.

Now that being said, she wasn’t entirely self sufficient. For example, when she told me that I ground her, my first reaction is an almost panic. She does expect me to be there for her, listen, “ground” her. She used to always say “Don’t let me forget….” I would get so mad! Remember your own damn assignments! I don’t have anyone playing secretary for me, why should I be yours? Do like everyone and make a post it.

I don’t hate her or anything. I feel like I’m always griping about her though.

My moods have been highly erratic lately. At times I feel so overwhelmed and I’m seriously freaking the hell out. Sometimes they feel like mini panic attacks. And then other times I’m trying to psych myself up, all rainbows and sunshine and trying to truly live. But honestly, even that has a panicky feeling to it. I feel the panic feeling, panic (of course), and so I desperately try to fight it off with rainbows and butterflies and smiles. I’m terrified of going under again.

I love this song. It makes my chest hurt, but in a good way.

xkcd redesigned their home page to honor the closing of GeoCities and it tickles me pink and I can’t help but smile because I totally remember those home pages. It’s so horribly amazing.

I’m obsessed with Glee. Yes, I admit it. And Puck is my new favorite character on television. On a side note, I always seem to fall in love with the couples that probably won’t end up together. It’s an unhealthy love, but it makes me happy.

I’m stressing over grad school like whoa.

I have a presentation due on Wednesday.

Some gummy bears sound good right about now.