Days in the life of a Tina who currently (temporarily?) does not have a nose ring
Posted on Friday, 10 May
“Paralyzed with the inability to make a decision.” My dad said this to me once when we were in an argument. And he’s right, you know: I’m horrible at being decisive. The thing is, I can’t stand indecision and I’m pretty much the embodiment of it.
Perfect example is happening as we speak. For weeks, I’ve been convinced that I wasn’t going to walk at graduation. It would take too long; the vast majority of my best friends are all taking a victory lap, not to mention trying to stuff my hair into one of those hideous square caps that could make Kate Upton look like some sort of owl. Nope, wasn’t going to do it, wasn’t going to consider it. I put my foot down and told my parents we could celebrate some other way—something more personal, more meaningful to me.
About two days ago, I was walking through North Campus, the same route I’ve been taking for nearly four semesters now. I was feeling more observant than usual, so I turned my head upwards to take in the blooming cherry blossoms in front of Terry. That’s when it hit me. I would never again walk this path as a student here. This part of my life, the part that has been my day-to-day routine for the past four years, the part that really feels like MY life that I have built, is coming to a close.
No more Bloody Marys on gamedays, no more awkward eye contact with the SLC hottie. No more opening the French doors of our apartment on Friday afternoons and sitting in the windows. No more 5 minutes late to a giant lecture class because I absolutely had to have iced coffee from Jittery Joe’s. No more musty smell of pens and stacks of paper in Park Hall. No more Georgia Theatre, no more Taqueria fish tacos on a sunny day. No more driving down Pulaski to look at the houses. No more making bruschetta in my kitchen with the doors open while I listen to French music. No more Athens Church. No more car switching in the “nook” off of Baldwin. No more chapel bell, no more North Campus fountain, no more subconsciously sidestepping the Arches.
Today, my parents and my best friend, who helped make my last minute decision to walk one that I will surely not regret, will coerce me into taking pictures in my cap and gown. I won’t have to stand to the side of the Arches, but will stand directly under them. I can’t believe today is finally here, and I can’t wait for the next part of my life to start.
But today, I think back on the memories from the past four years and while “paralyzed with the inability to make a decision” seems a little strong-worded for this juncture in my life, paralyzed with the inability to realize this chapter is ending forever is pretty spot-on.
Time is a funny thing because it is something that will forever be outside of our control. Time controls us, and there’s nothing we can do about that. Today, I wish I could stop time, or at least slow it down, because it is going to be so hard to leave all of this behind.
University of Georgia, we have had our ups and our downs. I have grown (both emotionally and physically) over the course of four years here. I have had some of the darkest times of my life as a student here, but conversely, I have had the best moments of my life here as well. I have made the most spectacular friends and I truly wouldn’t change a second of any of it. It’s so hard to say goodbye, but my time here is done. Go dawgs, and Athens:
I love you.
Posted on Monday, 15 April
It’s a stressful time of year for everyone, that’s obvious enough.
Last minute plans have a tendency to fall through, forgetting to return missed phone calls, and our innerconnectedness reaches a low point as we race through the next couple of weeks simply trying to tie loose ends, finish strong.
Hurriedly typing away at a paper that, in the back of my mind, I know won’t really matter in a week, I am mentally making lists and worrying about the insurmountable tasks that only seem to keep coming in this hectic time. Then I start to see the tweets. And the news. And there have been two explosions at the finish line of the Boston Marathon.
A time supposed to be overflowing with relief and reward for the months of brutal training that its runners have put in is completely marred by another horrific occurrence of destruction to the everyman’s faith in the human race.
Quickly flipping though pictures from the Associated Press, my heart just…hurts.
And yet again I find myself in the same place I did this past December when hearing about the Newtown shootings: a place of complete despair, a place of unknowing and helplessness that I’m sure so many are feeling right now. Watching these horrible things happen from hundreds of miles away and wondering what can be done. It is a feeling that is borderline indescribable, yet so easily identifiable.
I understand I’m not making anything better by writing about it. By taking a stance behind the screen of my computer. But this is how I try to make sense of things that really don’t make any sense at all, writing.
My heart and prayers go to Boston in the fullest, and I know that with God’s healing power all things are possible.
Posted on Wednesday, 20 March
My best friend and I have been seriously stalking RedBox for weeks trying to finally get to re-visit one of our favorite movies from this summer. With a little bit of post-spring break depression happening this week, we stumbled upon a silver lining when we lucked out and finally got a hold of it.
As anyone who has ever talked to me for five minutes or more knows, Andy Samberg is my number one person I want to meet in life. Rashida Jones is easily top 10. The two of them acting, not to mention the back story behind the movie, make it that much better.
The story is loosely based on the failed short-term relationship between Jones and Will McCormack, who co-wrote the movie with Jones and plays the part of Skillz in the film. The two wanted to explore the idea of a breakup between a couple who genuinely wanted to maintain their friendship.
At first, this idea is borderline preposterous— actually staying friends with an ex after so much history, and, in this specific situation, building a life together. But is it impossible? At the very end of the movie, Jesse tells Celeste he loves her one last time, after both of them have spent the majority of the film trying to hurt or get over the other. The moment is pivotal and heart-wrenching, but also freeing in a twisted way. Knowing that the human heart has that potential for forgiveness and that ability to unconditionally love is something we so often overlook to focus on the inverse— the negative parts of the breakup.
Celeste and Jesse Forever is an acknowledgement of what a failed relationship once represented, an illuminated point of view of something almost always seen as dark. It encourages us to be fond of the past and look forward to the future with a hopeful heart, without closing oneself off even after we’ve experienced that kind of pain and appreciating the good out of every relationship.
So, the question remains: am I weirdly obsessed with this movie? Kind of. Weirdly obsessed with Andy Samberg? Let’s be real.