The Horror That Comes When You Read Your Old Posts

My goodness. I actually hate my old self.

2011 me? Spoiled, sheltered, petty little freshman girl with no confidence and no empathy. She’s self-centered, and not even in a reflective sort of way – she’s wrapped up in the coming and goings of her mundane, boring everyday life. Like, what I ate for breakfast, and the exact happenings in my speech and debate class were of utmost importance. Mortified.

2012 me is marginally better, but really not by much. I was still a largely awful person.

2013, junior year, I make a leap. My grammar improves; I start capitalizing my I’s. I have friends. I start trusting people. I start caring about others (well, somewhat). My posts deal more with larger trends in my daily life than a post literally on each day (thank god that ended). What caused that?

I guess Interlochen, but more specifically, meeting friends and feeling like I belonged for the first time. Seeing people be comfortable in their own skin, and kind to other people despite their ‘weirdness’.

I guess also my grandfather dying. I think I had to feel more than I ever did before.

Senior year, 2014. Wrapped up with boys now, and reflective posts, I think, most of them really not about my daily life at all. I like myself here more- though flawed, at least I know it.


Profile: Crush AYl

Light eyes. Casual, clean cut. Tall, on the thin side, but muscled. Looks like a swimmer. Referenced football in high school. Surfs. Has a huge telescope when I mentioned stargazing. Ridiculously bushy beard juts out on the clean look of the rest of his appearance. Reserved. Aloof from afar. Upright in posture. Calm and cool. INTJ. Loafers. Rare to smile or laugh, but it’s magic when you make it happen. Exacting and perfectionist with his work. Unknown – half the things I know about him are from random casual comments and not because he told me directly. An easy rapport. Comfortable with not filling the silence. Research for the cutting edge thrill over money and safe boredom. Extremely willing to help me. “You know, I skipped over this part, but it’s actually the most interesting,” when the med student left and we’d sat in ‘what next’ silence for a minute. “I want to show you something,” and going out of his way to do it. Passionate about science. Keenly intelligent. A liveliness when he talks about his passion. Turned down Ivy League just for the weather. A sense that his mind is above mundane things. A sense that he liked my company. A sense that he trusted me.

Lunches Alone

So, I’ve been at a low point lately because even though my social life is more active than ever, I don’t feel like I have real friends.

SS the other day. It was lunchtime, and I had no plans. I took a leap of vulnerability and implied/asked to hang out with her. She obviously got the message, but mumbled something ambiguous, then literally JOGGED away from me, into the crowd. I went home. I dread lunchtimes nowadays.

I’ve just been feeling this sense of isolation from PD, like I’m a second-choice friend. She called me to apologize the other day.

And the truth is, those are the only friends that are even worth being upset about in the first place.

If I ever thought I had real friends, I was kidding myself.

Honestly, I’m just waiting to get away from high school and to start over, blank slate and new people. I’m so done here.

Snapshots from Prom 2015

Dancing by/with my date YM in a platonic but insanely fun way.

WB charging the mosh pit at the beat drop, his eyes sparkling in an almost drunk way.

Sleeping on the ride back curled up against my date, his hand stroking my back and neck.

“Where’s the wine?! She wants the wine! FIND THE WINE.”

“Beautiful! Beautiful….mexican…people…”, then giggling like an idiot.

Gagging, stumbling to the sink, and flopping my intoxicated body on the granite countertop; very drunkly waving to a guy as he left.


Spinning, throbbing, and laughing.


And, as it turns out, this one is actually a pretty good one. Or, at least, it’s pretty darn highly ranked. AND I’m apparently the top 8% of applicants, which is pretty cool beans with me.

And even though I don’t quite want to go there, it’s still awesome to know that I got in, because it totally boosts my confidence for my top schools.

I want to tell the world, but that would be a total jerky and annoying move, so I’ve contented myself with telling my family and far-away friends, and probably my teachers who wrote letters of rec 🙂

So my feelings right now:


Daylight savings miracles, gorgeous sunsets of pollution, huge full moons. Not so much stars.

Sharing guavas (two way). Sharing chestnuts (one way). Stale croissants and excavated cashew cream (surprisingly good) by the spoonful. Coconut chips gone in a week. Bulk.

Ridiculously unproductive. Blowing off homework yes? Sight reading Brahms Folk songs for SATB. Meadow….that I love you….Bringing back Nanie. Sing alto.

Riots over a college essay. Riots over college. Prestige no.

Tales of free cookies at college. Ranting about Rorem. Aspiring towards Finnigan’s Wake. Engraved name cards – black, plastic, white letters.