pretty soon, it's no longer going to be socially acceptable to be drunk on a tuesday, have a powerhour at 10am, dirty makeout in the corner of a bar, do a walk of shame in a formal dress, indulge in cheese fries 3 times a week, duct tape 40s to your hands, play beirut on the street, or forget all responsibility to get lost in another round of pitchers... and it won't be possible to have all your best friends around a table at mad4 or in one room to sing/dance/drink your hearts out.

this is college. these are our glory days. live it and love it.. for one last week.

---

i wrote that last week. now it's just one more day. i graduate tomorrow and then it's on to real life. nostalgia paired with nervous excitement and an ounce of dread in realizing these years are finally coming to an end. can i ever possibly be ready to take it all on?

here we go. welcome to may 14, 2006-- the day i graduate.

And every time I go home, I find another thing that reminds me of you.

So often I see going home as an escape-- a chance to run away from the chaos of my life at school, flee from overshadowing responsibility, push aside all thoughts of deadlines to meet, papers to be read, emails to be written. But then it's weekends like these when I go home to realize that even miles away in my own little escape, my room is full of memories of you.

I suppose I never thought that I’d miss you so much now, or maybe it's just that I miss being in love. I’m not sure what it is, but just when I think I’ve left it all behind, it all comes back like a tearful discovery in the attic of my mind. It feels like a lifetime ago, and yet it still hurts today. I never thought it'd be this hard, still.

i want to be real i want to be captured i want to lose my breath.

oh, to be genuinely, passionately, breath-takingly lost in a kiss.

And I stand there and wonder if that’s what I really want to be.

They stand in a group, donning pinstripe suits and black leather briefcases, the women wearing pantsuits with pointy-toed high heels and carrying leather portfolios with large black purses. They laugh, in that superficial way, seemingly enjoying each other’s company and having a good time as they wait for their train. Maybe it’s true, maybe they do have a good time and enjoy each other’s company. Maybe every one of them would even tell me they loved their job.

But do I want to be them?

It hits me at times, when I think that my life ahead will be one of skirt suits and pressed collars and pointy-toed heels. Fast-paced, walking down the city streets, with my mind wracking through a continuously evolving to-do list. Big sunglasses, stoic glance, looking straight ahead. I know I’ve partly become this person, that I’ve evolved into this being through summers in the city and self-important jobs and a constant effort to develop my significance in the world. But then I think—is this who I want to be for years to come?

There seems to be no end in sight. It’s odd to be going through this interview process, to be filled with anxiety and hope and wishes and distraught over getting a successful, fulfilling, high-paying job to launch my career. Career to what? To forever wearing suits and walking fast and being important.

I want so much to be happy, I want so much to be successful, I want so much to be significant. But I don’t know what I want at all. Equity research? Sales and Trading? Consulting? Marketing? M&A advisory? What is right for me? Do I really want to do these things, or have I simply trained myself to fit the mold? What do I want? A collaborative environment. Team-oriented work. Client interaction. Challenges. I say all these things, but at the end of the day, I don’t know what they amount to at all. I wish so much to be able to grab a magic eight ball and see where I truly am supposed to go.

These past few weeks have been the biggest blow to my ego I have ever experienced. It’s humbling to be here, to be at Penn and at Wharton and among the best of the best—I’ve always known that. But am I simply just not as good as the best of the best? Am I truly only capable of passing by and surviving and giving the impression of being worthy of my peers? Am I only good enough to make it through the first round and never the best to make it through the final? I know I’m smart. I know I learn quickly. I know that wherever I go I CAN be successful. Why I can’t relay that to interviewers, I don’t know.

It’s so hard to have to prove yourself.

God, to live college all over again and really do well. Life would be so different. I keep telling myself that life will work itself out, that in the end there’s a place where I’m meant to go and by December (hopefully) I’ll look back and say “See? I have faith in the system. I wasn’t meant to go into equity research, I was meant to be here.” It’s just so hard to find “here” when it seems like it doesn’t exist.

And tomorrow it all begins again. Another day, another interview, another charming smile and witty conversation, another attempt to sell your self, your personality, your smarts. Perfect make-up but you’re barely scraping by. I hate this feeling of sucking it up and selling yourself, I hate this feeling of facing rejection of your self, I hate this feeling of trying to be someone you’re not but wanting so much to be that person.

I’m waiting for that “here”, waiting for life’s pieces to fall into place. Please, let it happen soon.

don't know who reads this anymore, but if you do, you should be here. dre not only had fun with photoshop making these, but she's even going to making a full-out ass of herself in emcee-ing the event-- that's right bitches. rock it steady.

i never should have thought that this might be something real.

day to day, going through the motions. pretending not to care, prentending to be okay with it, pretending to understand and be rational and logical and agree. knowing one thing, feeling another. falling at every whim, just because you can't help yourself.

no one ever warns you that you might fall this hard.

and you give yourself away... with or without you.

I miss being in love, I miss having something real, I miss being in control, I miss knowing where my life was going.