Teeth, Love, and Growing Up

I'm starting this draft at Terminal 2 of the San Diego airport, waiting for the last Boston redeye I'll probably be taking for the foreseeable future. I'm committing to UCLA Law. In a few months, TSA will no longer be the bane of my existence. Instead, I'll be worried about drivers cutting me off on the 405 and the exorbitant gas prices in southern California. I spent the past week at home, working remotely from 7am to 3pm as a time zone compromise with my boss. It was nice. I got to see my friends several times and spent quality time with my mom. It was her birthday the day before UCLA's Admitted Students Day, so we drove up a day early and went to The Getty. We were both more impressed with the architecture of the place itself than most of the art, though I did particularly enjoy the exhibit on medieval depictions of blood and medicine. I hate driving in LA. I bitched and moaned behind the wheel about how nonsensically the city is laid out, how isolating I find it...

  I think if I mythologize everything that occurs to me, something interesting will finally happen. Maybe the missed connections won’t keep me up at night, spending precious twilight hours overthinking, overwhelmed by the barely planted seeds of something that has barely kissed the dirt. Or maybe it’ll be an uncertain reunion, me, the suburban-turned-city kid (whose heart is still soft), and a reason to go back home. (Or just a reminder for me to call home. Sorry mom.) Rarely one to just sit in new experiences, I have clearly not outgrown the child who expects the orange tree in her backyard the next day after spitting up a couple of orange seeds. Brown skin singed but not burnt with unscarred hands not used to nurturing. I want to reside in the “success” that luck has afforded me, but I keep bracing for something. A final trick, the very last, totally important test before I’m a Real AdultTM, and when (not if!) I’ll fail, I’ll be sentenced to the deepest recesses of my overthinkin...

  Hello EN502! I am writing from Stowe, Vermont. A foot of snow fell on Thursday and I am enjoying the winter I've been missing in Boston. Right now I am looking at Mount Mansfield, the tallest peak in Vermont. The snow on top is bright in the sun.  My life has felt so very mine the last few weeks. I found an apartment to move into in the fall, which I am very excited about. The apartment has yellow walls and a teal couch and the green line is just a step outside the door. I know the move will be life-changing, not just because it will be a new space, but because I will not be stressed about commuting and will have more time to spend with friends. I am excited to get to know my roommates too. I worked with one of them at the bookstore, and she is such a force of joy. I look forward to being surrounded by such positivity.  After spending five years trying to convince myself to become a therapist, I gave up. That’s not the right phrase. I’m trying something new. I am remind...