Every time I meet someone new on my college campus, the conversation unfolds a little something like this:
Random Person: “Hi, I’m [fill in the blank]. What’s your name?” Person smiles and acts genuinely happy to have just learned my name, which will most-likely be forgotten within ten minutes.
Me: “I’m Grace, nice to meet you. Where you from?” My voice probably gets higher pitched because I’m trying to sound friendly.
Random Person: Responds cheerfully, “I’m from Chicago, what about you?”
Me: “Id-er-ho, and yes, we’re known for potatoes.” We share a giggle. “What’s your major?”
Random Person: “Oh, I’m majoring in international business with a double minor in economics and accounting. What about you?” Person smiles and stands a little taller.
Me: I return the smile and say confidently, “Oh, I’m undeclared.”
BOOM. Just like that, all life and joy is sucked from the conversation. The person’s facial expression turns to that of pity, and he/she gives a sympathetic (emphasis on the pathetic) smile, saying,
Random Person: “Oh…Well that’s okay, you’ll find something…” Continue reading “Undeclared and Proud”
As someone who loves fashion, hair, art, and everything sparkly, you’d think I love makeup too, right? Wrong. Surprisingly enough, I don’t love makeup, and I actually hardly ever wear it except for special occasions. Shocker—I know! Sometimes I think I should dive head first into the world of powders and shimmers and small pencils that make it difficult to know if they’re for your eyes or for your lips, but then I remember a few things holding me back…Okay, more than a few things. Say, the nine reasons listed below? Continue reading “Why I Don’t Wear Makeup”
For a lot of teenagers, there’s nothing they want more than a shiny new car for their 16th birthday. Or at least, a shiny new piece of plastic that allows them to legally drive. Me on the other hand? I wanted absolutely nothing to do with driving—I loved the company of my parents as chauffeurs, and I never felt embarrassed by their presence. Most of all, I feared the power and responsibility of maneuvering a very expensive toy on the roads (especially with all the inattentive drivers who spend more time looking at their phones than their rearview mirrors). One of the first times I drove with my mom on a permit to obtain the required hours, my left leg twitched uncontrollably—and a lot. It felt numb by the time I made it to my destination! That’s how scared I felt.
Continue reading “The Lifelong Search for Joy (Not Happiness)”