Wednesday Night, 6:50 PM

When you reach that University-going age, the adults in your life feel obliged to tell you all about it. Not necessarily specific experiences, but how they wish they'd gone, or how they did go and it changed their life, and altered their reality forever, was the best time of their life, etc.

And for the longest time, even after I started University, I had NO IDEA what they were talking about. University was just a repeat of everything else I'd done in my life - school, money, laundry, interpersonal interaction (or lack thereof), only more so and without anything remotely resembling a support system. I'd think to myself "Is this it? Seriously? The fantastic experience every one's told me about? It sucks! I don't know if I can even take more of this. This enlightening thing better happen soon, because I am falling apart." I pondered ways of ending it. I didn't make a plan or anything, so it didn't seem serious at the time. Now that I'm in a healthier state of mind (and I am), I realise that any thought like that is serious, although I don't think I would have done it. I've always been a rather happy, content person, so it just didn't seem real to me. I'm me! I'm not THAT unhappy. I'm not that girl.

Well, I was. And then I took my first anthropology class. I didn't realise it then, but anthropology probably saved my sanity, or at least played a big role in its recovery. It struck a chord within me, and I began seeing even more sides of life (though I've always tried to see as many sides of an issue as possible.) Everything I looked at, I took apart in my mind. I took nothing for granted. I realised how absolutely blind I had been. My new found ability to analyse things was key when I directed my focus on myself. I realised that nothing in life is certain. I didn't have to be unhappy if I didn't want to. There are infinite possibilities, infinite time. So I took another anthropology class, and it kept happening; I kept gaining perspective. Eventually, I rediscovered Buddhism. I've always been fascinated by it, but now I started learned more about it. I've decided it's a mindset I will do my best to cultivate. The idea that I am just a tiny part of an infinite whole doesn't scare me, it comforts me. The universal principles around which the doctrine is based resonate with me, as do the "commandments", if you will. I won't get into the specifics now - I don't know everything I want to know yet, but if the interest is there I will expound on the issue later.

That hesitation of mine to discuss things that I have not learned about fully is one I have always had, but it is definitely more common now, again because of anthropology. In most cases, I consider this to be a very good thing. There is too much ignorance in the world without my jumping into things headfirst, without all the facts. But there is one area in which is really kind of sucks, because until I have all the information, I have to suffer.

(I live in fear of my mother reading this blog, because she did find it once. But for once in my life, I am going to proceed anyway. That said, mom, if you are reading this, please stop. I know the whole internet thing voids the privacy thing in theory, but please. P.S. I'm not pregnant.)









I think that all the people who are still reading this lengthy stream-of-consciousness will know what I am talking about by now. God, I can't even type it. Well, guess. I know you can. The thing is, I can't tell other people, admit it to the world, not because I am ashamed, but because I don't even know if I am capable of a relationship involving... aspects of physical intimacy beyond friendship. (Romantic or emotional intimacy - I can do those.) And that is all I am going to say, or I will be venturing into Sex and the City territory and to be frank, that show made me squeamish. Suffice it to say certain things cannot be said to my family and/or complete strangers without the successful completion of field trials that lead to a conclusive resolution.

I hope my catharsis wasn't too boring/shocking.