Thoughts on College Acceptance ~

I'm not going to lie, this time last year I was a nervous wreck. All I could think of was the possibility that I might not get into college. Oh my goodness!

Totally Desperate: 

I used to look at the pamphlets that the colleges would send me. All these random kids smiling on the beautiful Duke green. A bunch of Harvard smarties studying in a giant library. Those kids had no idea that there were people like me just staring at their faces looking for something. I would construct detailed lives around that one still image. A mom, a dad, maybe some siblings, that kid, and one very very very important acceptance letter with their name on it. How happy were they when they got accepted? Are they still that happy? Because they should be. I wanted them to be constantly appreciative of their acceptance because there were kids like me just dying for their place. 

I was just in awe to be honest. I wanted to be them so much, just a kid with an acceptance letter at some place decent. 

Dear God, I promise if I get into a good college I'll be soooooo happy there won't be anything that can make me feel sad again. 

And then a letter from Brown came in the mail, at least three weeks before decisions were meant to come out. I was in my room when my mom yelled up the stairs about some mail I got from Brown. She was acting like it was some big thing but I knew when letters were supposed to go out so I wasn't excited or anything. Nevertheless she made me come down stairs to open it and all the while I was telling her it was nothing important because acceptance letters don't come out for awhile. The first thing I saw was a brown folded pouch with just the word Brown on it. A little fancy for some random letter. Inside was a long worded letter that I couldn't be bothered to read so I skipped to the bottom. And there it said in slightly vague but not that vague words that I was likely to be accepted as in, wink wink nudge nudge, I was as good as in. 

And in a matter of seconds, I lived the moment that I always imagined those kids in the pamphlets were so lucky to have had. 

But the thing that bothers me is that naïve though I had going in. Or maybe it wasn't naïve at all. Now, a semester in, I don't often remember how I felt before I got in, and how I thought it would solve all my problems. Don't get me wrong it did for awhile. Even weeks after I got in, there wasn't much that could make me terribly upset. Some kid was mean to me, who cares I was going to Brown. I got a C on a pop quiz, that's cool still going to Brown. Ironed a hole in my favorite shirt, no problem, I was going to a good college dang it! 
And that's how it should have been, and still should be because there are still kids dying to get in. I'm guilty of forgetting most days how incredibly lucky I am for somehow getting into the college of my choice because that's a lucky thing.

But on a further note...

I'm guilty of forgetting everyday how lucky I am for all the little things. I never beg God to let me live another day every time I go to sleep because that would make me so happy there won't be anything that can make me sad again. And yet, I somehow still wake up everyday completely intact and healthy. 

So I somehow thought that getting into college would supply me with enough thankful happy energy to fight off sad feelings to last the rest of my life. That was so stupid of me. 

I should've had enough thankful happy energy to combat all the sadness from just opening my eyes in the morning.

It's hard to think of the positives all the time. It's not the way we've been taught, growing up in this world where the only thing you can count on in social media is bad news. 

I'm constantly forgetting but I'm trying to remember every time I think I have it bad, that I don't have it that bad at all. 

Thinking Thankful:

I started out small. When I had to write a ridiculously long paper and all my friends are hanging out I hated school. But then I had to remember how lucky I was to have the opportunity to learn and interact with so many amazing people and if the price was to write a paper, so be it. And yeah, it was ridiculously embarrassing when I caught my hall-mate in nothing but his boxers but it was worth it because I was at Brown. 

And likewise, it stinks when I have to unload the dishwasher and clean the messy corners of my room that practically have their own ecosystems going on but I'm alive and healthy and still able to do those things. Well gosh, I'm incredibly lucky.

long story short-

there's always something to be thankful for!

Dreams

I dream a lot!

I mean a lot. Practically every night. I'm also a bit of an insomniac. So while I lay in bed for an hour or so, listening to soft music, just waiting for sleep's gentle grasp to pull me under, I think about what I might dream about. Do you want to know what I dream about? Sometimes it's a little crazy.

But OH! the Nightmares!

I would say since turning 7, I never have nightmares, but I'm not sure if that's true. When I was little, I knew exactly when I was having a nightmare, it always involved a monster or some type of terrible scenario and I would wake up heart racing completely terrified. It took a while to even believe that it was a dream. Now my "nightmares" are like in disguise or something. When I wake up I'm not usually scared, sometimes the idea is even a little funny because it's so bizarre. Only upon further analysis do I decide that yeah, maybe that was a nightmare because I was pretty frackin' terrified while it was happening. Example: I was having this crazy dream a couple of days ago where I put my head in my hands and started crying, when I lifted my head, I noticed this weird bulge under the skin on the palm of my hand. (This part gets a little gross) I somehow squeezed the bulge until- get this- my eye ball poped out....of my hand. My stupid dream brain was like yeah, that makes sense because my hand was right next to my eye, it must have sucked it out or something. Anyway, I started freaking out and I ran to my mom with my eye. She was vaguely uninterested. She even kind of chuckled and I was getting really annoyed. "Ok just put it in some ice water, that's what you're supposed to do." So that's what I did. And then the iris and pupil got all cloudy and I started crying out of my eye socket, with no eye in it, which doesn't even make that much sense. Anyway the crying woke me up, because I had shed a tear in real life. And honestly that was such a wacked out dream I just laughed about it. But that was pretty scary when I genuinely thought I was going to have one eye and one eye socket for the rest of my life.
Anyway, whether or not that counts as a nightmare, I would say I've gotten the better or bad dreams.

Moving on...

The point that I wanted to get to was that I don't understand why there's this weirdness about dreaming about someone. As a person that dreams a lot, I dream about a lot of people and I'll be honest, they're usually my friends. But on occasion I'll dream about someone I like, not in a crazy way or anything. It's like any other day, just not real- and yet, so weird to talk to that person about. I mean, I don't have to talk to that person about my dreams but I just feel bad that social norms won't allow me to.
That's not really true. I can do whatever I want despite what social norms say, and still, my across the hall mate told me about a dream he had about me. Needless to say I was thoroughly creeped out. I mean, why was he dreaming about me? But I should know better than anyone that it doesn't mean anything.
I guess it's because there are all these stupid sayings like, "See you in my dreams" when talking to a star crossed lover that put some kind of romantic attachment to dreaming about someone. But honestly, I get shot down by famous people in my dreams. I remember once, in a dream, I met the Jonas brothers and Nick just flat out told me he just wasn't that into me. Ouch. Maybe I have some kind of self esteem issues, or maybe a dream is just as random and average as any other day, just with some fun, unbelievable twists. It doesn't mean I like Nick Jonas and it definitely doesn't mean that he's not that into me.
But really, there's nothing romantic or gushy about dreaming and we should all just talk about it. It would make the world a better place.

5 Step Plan for Making the World a Better Place to Discuss Dreams:

1. Please don't get creeped out by my telling you about my dreams featuring you. If I go up and tell you that I dreamt you had a baby that was actually an alien that took us to a space theme park with zero gravity roller-coasters (as if that could even exist) DON'T just assume I'm trying to subtlety tell you that I like you. 100% of the time I'm just telling you because I think it's funny or I just remembered it.
2. Yes this is hypocritical but please don't tell me your dreams about me. Maybe that's just the way I am but I think it's terribly inappropro to talk about a dream you had about me while leaving it terribly ambiguous as to why you even told me in the first place.
But that's not fair. [edit] If you're not good friends with me, and I mean really good friends, don't tell me about your dreams about me.
That goes for everybody. Don't tell people you dreamt about them unless you're good friends because anything short of that just makes for a really awkward conversation.
I can't explain it. I don't support it. But that's just how it is.
3. Talk about your dreams with purpose and confidence. I just can't listen to dreams when the storyteller is still trying to remember and piece together what exactly happened. I get it. It's choppy trying to remember a dream, and it doesn't help that it likely won't make any sense but come on. I mean I wasn't there, so if you have to embellish, fill in some gaps with your amazing imagination, now is the time. Trust me, nobody can call you out on it.
4. Don't tell people about your dreams unless it's pretty funny or crazy or involves them or is amazing in some way. Like I said, at least for me, a lot of my dreams are like average days with some crazy can't-happen-in-real-life pieces but that doesn't make it retelling worthy. Every dream has those suspended reality parts so it has to be amazing or crazy in addition to that. If it isn't, just send it to the dream graveyard and leave it there for your own personal enjoyment.
5. Dreams are like visions into the subconscious-- sometimes. I don't know, maybe never. I just, personally, don't always like people trying to figure me out with my dreams. I don't really have that much control over my dreams, so if something crazy happens it's not my fault. If I keep getting rejected in my dreams it doesn't mean I'm going to be forever alone, and if it does don't flippin' tell me that dang it! It's a slippery slope, interpreting dreams. So just don't, unless explicitly asked.

Ok I hope my 5 steps plan for MWBPDD was helpful and universal. If not, then it's still completely useful for talking about dreams with me.

Alright, I think a dream is calling right now~