You have no idea what you're capable of.
Every fiber of your being that has strung you along since you were a child has culminated into this.
And I'm talking to my younger self, by the way, because I can't believe how much has changed, how much I've changed, since I last posted. During my last post, I was chained to my mint gingham chair by the unbreakable links of pneumonia, watching Arrested Development, The Office, Donnie Darko--all of the things I should have watched years ago. I was a breath away from college, and changing already.
And now I'm here.
Sitting on the top bunk bed, my top bunk bed, in my dorm. To my left is a pattern of stick-on mirrors, a pink-and-green Modest Mouse poster, a Garden State movie poster, a Hello Kitty calendar, a blue-and-pink Keane poster, a long Coldplay poster to stare at as I drift to sleep, and a picture of my brother and I as badass kids, wearing leather jackets and standing next to our first puppy-love, Jazz.
And I'm delicately drowning in joy and hope.
My time at Fordham hasn't been without doubt, pain, and pitfalls, but it's been wonderful in ways I never even knew were possible. And it's exactly what I need.
I've accomplished so much. For sanity's sake, I'll only talk about this weekend.
On Friday, I saw the alt-rock band Cheers Elephant play at Rodrigues, Fordham's magical coffee house. I wore a kickass dusty-rose-pink skull crop top, a striped black-and-white blazer, jeans, and charcoal cotton heels. I danced crazily with my friends, and sang along to all of the words, even though I didn't know a single one. I pushed myself to the front of the crowd with my friend, and we both won a free CD because were undoubtedly the best dancers in the room. I made silly faces at the lead singer and he smiled at me.
After, the crowd clung together outside, and I saw some old friends and attempted to make new ones. I left with my other friend, and we said we were going to the bar, but each step took us further from that plan. We watched Tiny Furniture and music videos while eating Pugsley's pizza instead.
On Saturday, my friend and I went to the Columbia University Media Conference, where we rubbed elbows and ate sandwiches with writers/editors from the likes of the New York Times, Gawker, and Slate. I hung onto every word they said. Columbia is a utopia, I swear, and the path to get there was immeasurably beautiful. We went through Morningside Park and climbed a million stairs Rocky-style to get to there. New York City is unreal.
Today, on Sunday, I slept through my morning plans. But after hours of unprecedented concentration and isolation, I finished my article for the Fordham newspaper, in which I interviewed Tony Hawk and Stacy Peralta, two of skateboarding's most massive stars.
And here I am. My name hasn't changed. But everything else has. I feel powerful and strong, but I have so, so far to go. But I know I can get there.
"Goodnight, and good luck."-Edward Murrow, a new inspiration of mine. One of many. Many to come.
Edward Murrow, badass extraordinaire
Ali G, badass extraordinaire (in training)
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