Movie Monday

This past Monday, I watched a movie. I know it doesn't sound like a big deal, but to me it is. I never have the time to just relax and watch a movie, I don't even watch TV. I had a really bad weekend and all I could think about was being home in just 36 short hours. I thought the best way to pass the time, and distract myself from any ideas of home would to be to watch a movie. So that's what I did.

I watched The Rebound, starring Catherine Zeta-Jones and Justin Bartha. This romantic comedy was exactly what I needed to clear my head. It was funny, yet heart-warming, predictable, yet satisfying. In the movie, newly single mom Sandy moves to New York City after finding out her husband had been cheating on her. After renting the apartment above a local coffee shop, she asks barista Aram Finklestein to babysit for her so she can go on a blind date. After series of failed blind dates, Sandy realizes she's looking for love in all the wrong places.

Sandy starts to see Aram, her male nanny many years younger than her. It seems weird, but their relationship actually worked out for a while. Sandy would go to work while Aram would stay with her kids. At the end of they day, they would all get together just like a family. Of course, it wouldn't be a movie without conflict, Sandy and Aram eventually broke up.

Though the ending was predictable (they got back together), I enjoyed it. It was a great way to clear my head and focus on something other than school. Though I wasted two hours of my life, it was well worth it.

My South

Physically speaking, North and South are polar opposites. When I think of North I think of cold, dark, mountains. When I think of South I think of warmth, sunlight, and beaches. I have never traveled north of a family vacation, we only go down south. This is because the south is a happier place.

My ideal 'south' would be my house at the Jersey Shore. It is where I spend my summers, early falls, and late springs. I would prefer to be there rather than my house up north. I did not grow to appreciate my escape down south until I got into high school. It was then that I realized that being by a beach was relaxing. I loved how I could escape reality, I could be in a place where nothing mattered. 

Whenever I get upset when I am at my beach house I always walk on the beach. I love being alone and reflecting on what happened, what I could have done to avoid the situation, and what I could do to fix the issue. Being in the south makes me more understanding, reasonable, and compassionate.

 At the same time that I find myself during these reflective walks, I lose myself. I think about who I am and what that means to me which helps me find myself. While this is happening I lose myself because it does not matter. Who I am and what I am like does not matter when I am walking alone on the beach because no one is around. 

It's crazy to think how traveling an hour down south from where I am from could completely change my mindset.

I am North

Growing up in New Jersey, I always felt like I was in between northern and southern United States. I was neither too far north, nor considered myself to live in the south. My placement in New Jersey is exactly the same in comparison to the country. I grew up in Somerset County, in central Jersey. I never knew what it was like to be “north.”

A space that embodies northness for me is Connecticut. My idea of northness is college, being at Fairfield University. Aside from physically being north of where I grew up, being in Connecticut is an internal journey. It has forced me to leave home, and fend for myself. Peter Davidson argues in The Idea of North that, “A voluntary northward journey implies a willingness to encounter the intractable elements of climate, topography, and humanity.” It took courage to leave where I considered home in New Jersey to come to an unknown land of opportunities. It was not until I changed who I was that I was able to really experience what it was like to be north.

Davidson says, “In everyone’s mind there is a line drawn across the maps, known to that person alone, of where ‘the north’, in the sense that means more than ‘north of where I happen to be’, begins.” This line is a moral line that you cannot cross unless you change. Once you cross this line, you can achieve your own personal north. For me, the boundaries accompanying my journey northward included getting over my shyness, homesickness, and dependence on other people. Once I changed these negative attributes to my personality, I became successful at Fairfield.

Davidson says that traveling north is a space that is hard to get to, and is not easy to obtain. Prior to attending Fairfield University, I never saw myself as ‘naturally smart’. I was a straight A student, but I had to work for it. My grades were a direct correlation with my willingness to put in the time and effort. I was forced to teach myself how to learn. My acceptance to Fairfield University was not a shock, but a relief; my hard work had finally paid off.

Traveling north to Fairfield University was a risk I was willing to take. Being away from home for the first time left a lot of room for failure. I had to find a new niche that I could consider to be “home.” I had to create a routine
and be willing to be flexible. All these changed I made allowed me to have a successful trip north.

Mr. Paul Muldoon

It's pretty amazing that we can have someone as famous as Paul Muldoon come to Fairfield University for a poetry reading. What is also amazing is that he can be so famous, yet I had no idea who he was. I have read poetry before, but it's not one of the top things on my 'to-do list' in my free time. When I read poetry it is because it is assigned.

Professor Kelley seemed really excited about this famous poet and Professor at Princeton University coming to our school for a poetry reading. She assigned us a packet of his poems to read so we could discuss them in class prior to the reading. When I attempted to read the packet, the poems made no sense. My mind was blown, I had no idea what Muldoon was trying to say. His poems just weren't registering in my brain, they required knowledge that I did not have.

After the class discussion I really did not want to go to the poetry reading. I assumed I would have to sit in a hot, crammed room filled with poetry fanatics that were there on their own free will. I thought that everyone would be engaged in Muldoon's reading, while I would just sit there with my arms crossed. I assumed that Muldoon would be a stuck-up poet that was to smart for his own good. Luckily, I was wrong.

I was surprised that I actually got a seat when I arrived at the poetry reading. A lot of events on campus are not prepared for the mass numbers of people that attend them. I sat towards the side in the back, and had a view of Muldoon as he walked up and down the aisles. Muldoon surprised me, he was like a normal person, not some crazy poet. He greeted the audience by not only thanking us for coming, but apologizing to those students who were forced to go to his reading. I appreciated this because I was of those students. He had an attitude that made it comfortable to be around. He did not want credit for being famous or to be treated better than everyone else.

Mr. Muldoon gave background information to each poem before reading them. I wish he would have done that when I was trying to decipher what he was trying to say. This information was key to understanding his poems. I got excited when he said he was going to read Cuba, because I actually remembered what that one was about. He joked at the end of the poem saying that he must have gotten tired for ending it like that.

I felt like overall, the audience was engaged in Muldoon's readings (even the students). He cracked jokes and was responsive to the audience. In some cases, student had to leave for class (or because they decided they didn't want to be there). Every time someone got up and left, he stopped what he was saying and said something like, goodbye thank you for coming, see you soon. Though it was a bit sarcastic, but it was nice that he acknowledged everyone for coming to his reading

I am glad I got the experience to attend a poetry reading, because had it not been assigned, I definitely would not have gone.

RIP Computer

Last night I spilt my whole cup of coffee on my computer. It was not just a drop, it was 12 ounces of freshly brewed coffee all over my keyboard. I was sitting at my desk doing homework. I made myself coffee to focus, I wanted to get all my work done so I could relax. I keep my apples in a basket, so when I took down the basket of apples and put it on my desk, boom it hit right into the mug that was right next to my computer.

I didn't know what to do. I picked up my computer and wrapped it in my a towel. The screen was multicolored and the apple sign on the front was flashing. Coffee was coming out of the keyboard every time I moved it. I knew I broke it, computers aren't liquid-proof. I tried the best I could to dry it off, but there was no saving it. My computer was only 2 months old.

I started to cry. I felt so irresponsible. I called my mom to break the news to her. She answered and I heard a loud audience singing happy birthday.  After they were done signing my mom answered and realized I was hysterical.

"Bean what's wrong is everything okay?" she said.
"Mom." I cried. I literally could not speak I was so upset. "I just spilt coffee on my computer and now it's broke."
"Okay Bean calm down it's just a computer. We are just leaving I will call you when we are in the car."

Then I realized how silly I sounded. I was crying over a computer, but I didn't know how else to react. Had I not gotten upset, it would seem like I did not care. But crying over a computer made me seem pretty immature. There are so many worse things that could have happened than breaking a computer.

My mom called me back when they left the party and said not to worry they would get it fixed. I was still really upset. My mom told me that her and my dad would come tomorrow morning and take care of it. My dad added, "You don't have to break your computer to make me come up there, you can just ask me to take you out to lunch." Of course he has to add a sarcastic comment.

So today my parents came, and we went to the Apple store. I felt to guilty making them buy me a new computer, but there is no way I could make it without one (which goes back to our dependency on technology). My dad did not seemed phased by the whole ordeal. He looked at it as theres nothing you can do to un-spill your coffee, and things can be so much worse (and I caught him on a good day). My mom on the other hand openly said, "Your lucky your dad is here, or I'd be fuming."

As we left the Apple store my dad asked, "You know what today taught you?"
I knew where he was going because he always has some sort of little life lesson he preaches about. "That things can be fixed," I replied.
He said back, "To whom much is given, much is expected."

I just smiled at my dad, because I knew it was true. I am so lucky to be given parents that are able to support me in anyway possible. In return, I have to be the best I can be and show them that I truly appreciate everything they do for me.

And just a side note, there will be absolutely no eating or drinking by my new computer!

Advise Me (Please!)

This week starts advising period at Fairfield. That simple sentence should not freak me out as much as it should, but I can't help but worry. Advising period is used to reduce the stress of picking classes next semester, you meet with your advisor and they suggest what classes you should take. This gives me the worst anxiety. Picking my classes is making a plan for my future. I can't think of the future without getting worried.


The idea of picking classes scares me so much because I feel like I have no idea what I am doing. I am undecided, I don't have a major and have no ideas of interest (well that is not completely true). I know I want to do something with health science, but I am not sure exactly what. To pick a major would be a huge help, but I am too indecisive. One day I want to be one thing, and the next day it changes. Sometimes I think I can't handle being a pre-health major, then the next I think I have the ability to be the next great scientist. It seems like every other student at Fairfield knows exactly what they are doing. They have their classes picked out and they are ready to move onto the next semester. They all have majors and know what they want to be when they grow up. Then there is me, the complete opposite.

I know everyone says its okay to be undecided and most people change their majors they originally started with, but I hate not knowing. I want to know what I am studying and what I am going to be when I grow up. I am impatient, I just want to snap my fingers and get the answers to these questions. I know life does not work like that, but it would be awesome if it did.

The reason I am getting so worked up over this is because I put way to much pressure on myself. I don't know why, but I expect myself to know everything. I am going to make mistakes. I can't always be right, but I wish I could. Not knowing what to do is apart of the college experience. I just need to relax and talk to my advisor. Everything always works out, I just have to be patient.

The Winter Jacket

I am lucky to say that I rarely ever fight with my parents. I know that sounds crazy and that is so unusual for a teenager, but usually the fights we have are over stupid things that don't matter. My mom will yell at me for leaving my stuff laying around in the kitchen, or for leaving my half filled coffee mugs around the house. My parents have a hard time getting mad at me because I always try to do the right thing. I fold the laundry or empty the dishwasher, and usually (not always) I am willing to give my siblings rides.

I know better to fight with my parents because as everyone knows parents are always right. I was never really the aggressive type. I hate confrontation and when someone is mad at me, so to fight with my parents makes me feel uncomfortable. I don't see fighting as a solution, it usually just causes more problems. My lack of ability to fight is one of the main reasons my siblings call me the favorite child. I just go along with what my parents say, and usually I can get what I want.

The only thing my parents and I really fight about is when I get in a fight with one of my siblings. Yeah I call my 10 year old brother annoying and my teenage brother rude, but that doesn't really matter. What really irks my parents is when my sisters and I fight over clothes. Having two sisters is great until I want to take my sisters jacket back to college, or I find my favorite pair of jeans in my sisters hamper.

Even when I fight with my sisters, my parents usually take my sides (because I'm the favorite, just kidding it's because I am rational). Yesterday, before I came back from school my little sister and I got into a huge fight over clothes. Sunny insisted on checking my bag before I got on the train, just to make sure I didn't take anything of hers. I told her I didn't have anything of hers, but really my bag was filled with her jacket, shirts, and scarves.Trying to hide my bag and leave before Sunny got home didn't work. She found my bag, ripped it open, and pulled out everything that was hers.

I can't fight my own battles against my sisters, I always get my parents involved. My sisters know that I hate to fight and they know that 99.9% of the time, I end up in tears. As our brawl started out Sunny said, "Your going to go cry to mom and get whatever you want." Of course this made me cry and of course I screamed for my mom to back me up.

My mom came out into the garage and yes, she took my side. Sunny was yelling about a particular, tan winter jacket that she didn't even know she had. This jacket was hanging in the back of my mom's closet since before last winter. I figured I could take it, Sunny didn't even know where the jacket was and if I didn't bring a warm winter jacket back to school I would freeze to death on my walk to class.
Sunny thought the opposite. Even though she has not worn the jacket in over a year, she wanted me to leave it home so it can go unused and take up space in my mom's closet. Sunny claims that she knew that jacket was there, and that she needs it for school. I laughed because her school is inside, and she wears her same north face jacket everyday. If I brought the jacket back to school I would actually use it.

Long story short, I ended up in tears, Sunny ended up telling me she hated me, and my mom packed the jacket I want in my bag for me to bring back to school. Good thing my dad was not home or else he would have been really mad at my sister and I for fighting over somethings so stupid. After fighting with my sister I felt really guilty. I hate leaving on such bad terms with her especially knowing that I won't see her until Thanksgiving. At least I got a jacket to keep me warm in the brisk Connecticut air.