And for me the holiday season doesn’t end after Christmas, I love New Year’s Eve, too. It might help that it’s also my birthday… but that aside I love the party! This year in particular will be very special for me because it’s my first year out of college and a few of my college buddies are having somewhat of a reunion! Its a shame we can’t be together more, but that makes our time together all the more precious.

Happy Holidays!

~*~Jenny~*~

That’s all I’ve got.

Yeah, it’s been a long time since I updated last. If you know anything about me, you know just about the only thing I can keep up to date is my Facebook.

That said, it’s certainly been an interesting year thus far, both positively and negatively. Today is Aly’s birthday, which signifies a lot besides the obvious, “You’ve survived to see another year.” As the last one of my core group of friends to turn 21, she symbolizes a milestone in all of our relationships: The coming-of-age story of our maturity as people, students, and friends–maturity being a relative and loosely used term, especially when describing us.

It’s our last year. We’re done. We’ve made it (mostly).

The eight of us living in the apartment this year have never been closer (physically and emotionally), but it’s also the closest we ever will be. Call me a cynic; I usually agree, but I’m only being realistic now. After this year, it’s finally time to go our separate ways–for some, after over a decade of knowing each other. Finally our age isn’t going to determine where we are in our lives after having our age synonymous with our educational status (“Oh, you’re 22? Are you a senior or a super-senior?”). Some of us have no idea what we’re going to do, some are going to graduate school at MSU, some are finding programs at other universities, some are just going to find a job: We all have different paths.

The future isn’t guaranteed.

Jenny and I could sarcastically ramble off various philosophical posits discussing the soundness of “The future will be like the past because the events in the past have shown this to be true,” but I think I’d be hard-pressed to find someone who disagrees anyway. It’s this unknown that keeps life interesting and worth living, but at the same time it can be the most irritating, nagging thought on our minds. Our college careers are quickly approaching their end, effectively dissolving the singular bond that brought and keeps us so close together.

The future is predictable.

Sometimes we have realizations that make our future prospects much more pleasant. One of these is the discovery of new friends–new connections. What may have been an otherwise dismal future living situation for me (working under the assumption I’m at MSU College of Human Medicine next year) turned into an exciting chance to live with someone new and completely different from my current social sect. Moods can turn from dismal to ecstatic with the addition of a new friend or a fresh piece of knowledge.

The future holds many possibilities.

At first I, a 21 year old college student dealing with ‘real life problems’,  chuckled at the thought of my little 12-year old elementary age sister even dreaming she could be ‘emo’. But then I stopped. A wave of reality hit my like a brick wall.

My God, my baby sister is in 6th grade… She might not be kidding.

In the flood of my own 6th grade memories I remembered how hard things really could be for a 12 year old. Yes, looking back on any issues and arguments I had in those days seem so superficial now, but at the time it was my full blown reality. My life. My suffering. What adult could belittle me and tell me I didn’t know the meaning of pain? How many 12-year-old children in this nation commit suicide? Stress is all relative, and with the pressures to become something great especially in these harder times even the small ones we hope are care free and gleeful suffer in their own world of peer pressure, grades and meeting sometimes impossible expectations to be that loved perfect child.

The perfect child. The one just like their parents, right? I cringe when I see a little girl in an outfit I don’t even think is appropriate for a 16-year-old let alone a 10 year old. What happened to cooties? Why do I know of children, yes KIDS, at my summer camp that have had make out sessions, and possibly even sex. They aren’t even 13 yet. Not even teenagers. They aren’t even allowed to see a PG-13 movie that says “shit” or has a boob in it by themselves, yet here they are having  sex and doing drugs!? I almost began to panic thinking what my little sister is surrounded by.

My shocked feeling slowly eased into an understanding smile. Am I worried? After dwelling on it, not really. I may be away at school most of the year and not see my sister as much as I used to, but she isn’t suicidal. She is more a tomboy than a slut. And drugs? She yelled at me for having a margarita once I became 21 because alcohol is bad. She gets upset and struggles, I have no doubt. Its a part of growing up. Hopefully she learns something from those awful experiences and makes something of herself. Until then, America’s youth, grow strong.

I am currently in a seminar class that focuses on how to get a job (specifically for my major).  As much as I complain about attending this class (I still swear it’s just an excuse for my advisor to ramble on, uninterrupted, for an hour) this class has saved me in the career world.  The first major task that we were faced with was to write a resume.  Before that moment, the only resume I had created was a faint idea left over from the career portions of the high school curriculum.  The resume they had me prepare was unorganized, unsymmetrical, condensed, and ineffective.  Through multiple handouts and lectures, my teacher stressed the correct layout of the document, and my resulting product was a completely different style from that original draft I had prepared.  This came up again when a friend who has never had any experience outside of that high school resume lesson asked me to help him with his own resume.  I saw the same disorder and obvious lack of resume-knowledge that I had displayed initially.  I re-looked at the “portfolio” that some teacher long ago had told me to never lose; “One day this will be what gets you a job!”  If I was to follow the ideas that I was given in that portfolio, I do not believe I would be offered any decent job.

High school never gave me any study skills.  Back in those days I was tested on the actual knowledge and facts.  As soon as I got into college, I realized that facts were not enough; it was what you could then DO with those facts.  Logic and word games became the norm, and I had absolutely no idea how to study beyond memorizing facts.  I still struggle to find the best way to study, and I’ve almost completed my third year thus-far.  Beyond study skills, lectures are a completely different world than the high school classroom setting.  Teachers were more approchable, and I actually walked away from a class with notes that made sense to me when I looked back at them later.  I can’t recall how many times I’ve walked away from a lecture and looked back at my notes a week later only to feel like I have no idea why I had written something.  The one thing I did learn was to stop trying to write only what the teacher has put up for me to read, and to try to listen and write down their actual sentences.

And my last point for the night:  Remember that time in high school where you forgot your homework, or did poorly on a test, and you sweet talked your teacher into an extension, or a re-test?  Now remember that time in college when that happened.  Wait…what?  Oh right.  It probably didn’t happen in the latter scenario.  I had many teachers in high school who knew who I was, and who let many things slide.  Not so much in college.  And extra credit?  I’m not sure that exists anymore.

Overall…college is it’s own world.  It’s when we’re playing with boundaries and learning who we are.  We’re learning we’re not as smart as we thought we were, and we’re fighting to just get by most of the time.  It’s enough to deal with all of that by itself.  I could have done with a little more preparation, high school.  Pretending that the world is roses and gum drops only got me through those years of my life; now it’s harsh love and cynicism.

-Alyson

Have you ever taken a nap, woke up, and completely lost track of what day it was? Now imagine this being how your “every” day is. That’s the point that I sometimes feel I’ve reached, personally. If it weren’t for a calendar and my ever-ominous work schedule, I probably wouldn’t know whether it was a weekday or the weekend. This state of mind isn’t simply reached because I have a terrible sleep schedule, though. There are many ways that someone could begin to feel like this. There’s the path I’ve taken, where sleeping only happens during the daytime and night is where all of the progress is made. There’s also the monotony that many other, better students feel. They go to their classes every day, but they all start to blend together. It becomes difficult to tell whether you’re in your 9:10 course, or if you already mindlessly sat through that and you’re, in fact, already in your 10:20 class.

Honestly, if I could take every one of my classes online, I would. I’m actually completely content in waking up at 5 in the evening. I’m completely content going to bed at 9 in the morning. What’s not okay is waking up to the feeling of “I just missed every single one of my classes today”. What’s not okay is when you realize you legitimately haven’t been to an “academic” class in over a month. Trying to make changes feels even more futile. There’s the plan that involves staying up for over 24 hours in hopes of going to bed at a normal time, thus also waking up at a normal time. Not only is it tortuous to force one’s self into that state of sleep deprivation, but it’s simply not practical. I could do that to myself every single day if I wanted to, and temporarily get into a “healthy” sleeping habit, but that doesn’t force my work schedule into non-existance. It’s still very real, and still requires me to be up until 7am.

So, really, what solution is there? I see none, but in a perfect world it wouldn’t be a problem to begin with.

We are all running on wheels it seems. Why? To get that high. Some use drugs, some use sports, and some use education. Either way we are all driven to some goal, whether we know it or not. In most cases we’re told all of our lives which direction to run on this wheel, and how fast to run. Some fight it and claim to be free, but really we’re all puppets, or hamsters if you will. We are told the end goal. To become successful. To better ourselves. Its all a big game that we are forced to play if we plan on being even remotely “happy”.

We have the illusion that there are many choices. And there are, to some degree, several options one  can take in his or her life. Me, for example, I chose to take the MCAT and get my undergraduate degree, find people to write my recommendation letters and hope, just hope, that I’m good enough for Med School. But what if I’m not? Well, then I chose a different wheel to run on. One of them is bound to work for me eventually, right?

To begin with, space is a major issue.  It is true that most zoos lack enough space to give an elephant a decent amount of roaming room.  Sanctuaries usually one-up zoos in this regard, providing a much broader enclosure for the animal.  Zoos are obviously open to the public for educational and entertainment purposes, while sanctuaries are private, or open in very limited terms.  Animals typically are not bred in a sanctuary following the idea that it is a place for it to live out its life.

Another major difference is funding.  Zoos are provided with hard-earned accreditation, strict standards, and funding from taxes, benefactors, governmental, etc.  They are equipped to have  constant veterinary staff, the best balanced diets, and many supplies.  Sanctuaries vary in their funding and capabilities, but most are privately funded and based on the generosity of others.  Some are better than others, but I happen to know someone who once worked in a pretty good sanctuary.  They often were forced to feed their animals vegetables and fruit that were starting to rot (cutting off the bad spots), because they were donated by a grocery store, and donations are all they had to run on.  Better sanctuaries obviously would have better funding.  Elephants in captivity have many problems they face.  They live long lives, and can have foot problems and behavioral problems, and intelligence means they need a lot of stimulation.

There is always the constant fight between keeping animals in captivity versus the wild.  I’m sure most of us agree the wild is better, but how plausible is that when we are taking away what is considered ‘the wild’ for many different species of animals?  All I’m asking is that before you place a sanctuary on a higher pedestal than a zoological society, please remember a few facts:  know about the sanctuary and the funding/health care it has available, and know the standards it lives by.  Yes: Zoos have their flaws too.  Remember that, also.

But please don’t blame the keepers.  Both sanctuaries and zoos have animals taken care of by caring people who have devoted their lives to animals.  Don’t undermine their efforts by writing them off because of the name of where they work.  Know something about the actual place and policies before passing judgment and throwing stones.  They just might throw stones back at you for not providing them enough funding, for not taking care of the animals yourselves, or for not stepping in and stopping the destruction of the environment.  In today’s world we understand the idea of placing the blame on a scapegoat.  Don’t be that person; actually know the issue and take action.

And don’t get me started on PETA.

Happy new year, everyone!

-Alyson

Enter my little battles. I got a bad grade, but I did well on my homework. I didn’t study as much as I wanted to for an exam, but it still seemed to go well. The weather is gloomy, but it isn’t raining. My academic life feels like it’s crumbling, but the rest of my week is easy. I have tons of chores that need to be done, but I can find time.

Those are the little battles. We focus on the large ones, and they can ruin our day, but what about the little ones? It’s like trying to lose weight: Everyone immediately wants to lose fifty pounds, rather than focusing on a pound at a time. Focusing on the little things one-by-one can help make everything in your life seem more positive. The trick is actually noticing how many you “win”, even if you’re having a terrible day.

So go ahead. Take one day to count out just how many little battles you have. How many do you have? More importantly, how many do you win?

For years I was taught to practice this method. I was also taught to actually speak my mind, and that supervisors at work were arbitrary mediators. A supervisor is someone who will listen to concerns while keeping you on track. I have trouble understanding the world I am in right now where everything I’ve been told is to speak my mind in a professional way, but all of a sudden I am smacked in the face with a superior who does not care if my opinion is correct…the only reason I am not allowed to speak it is to avoid insulting someone. Wait, what? I am supposed to maintain a facade of professional respect with someone who completely messed up in a situation and will not admit it or take responsibility for it, all because they are above me on the political ladder and I don’t want to…insult them? Create waves between departments? Point out a flaw in their character?

I seem to be stuck on the concept of pretending someone did not make a mistake that had serious side-effects. I’m told to shut my mouth, smile, and then trust the person in the same situation the next time it arises. Personally, if they are not told they did something wrong, what is to keep them from committing the same mistake a second time? Instead, I can ‘write a letter’ that may or may not be passed from one rung of the ladder to the next one up, and that I have no idea if it ever was even read and considered.

I did just that, but now what? I sit and wait, and simmer in my frustrations. When I am told that an issue that is really grinding on my last nerve is never to be talked about again and should be pushed under the carpet, I have trouble plastering a mannequin smile onto my face (ps…mannequins rarely have a smile…or a face…) and giving up. I wasn’t raised a quitter.

But alas, corporate America owns the ladder, and maybe if I do manage a closed mouth smile and a few well-timed politically correct responses I can move up a few rungs and lead a better life. Then again, maybe the view isn’t always better from the top.

-Alyson