Over these 4 years, I’ve listened to…I mean, read the verbal diarrhea (correct term: logorrhea) of the Daily Sun opinion writers with great enjoyment. Today, I was walking through the quad and I said to myself, that I ought to write my own. So, I offer you a piece of “this is what it would be like if I wrote for the Cornell Daily Sun”. It’s steamy (well, sort of), it’s rambly, it’s long…it’s good. If you read it to the end, congratulations, you are my new best friend!
photo credit: via zazzle.com/miramasque
Can I talk about how annoying I find couples in the spring without sounding like a bitter spinster? Can one under the age of 40 be called a spinster? Clearly, I cannot whine and roll my eyes about people holding hands and being all glow-y without sounding like a hag…and a hag’s not really one of the things I aspire to be. So, I’ll give myself the advice a wise person would probably have given me during times like this, “It will be your turn one day, and you’ll love it and hate it at the same time. And you’ll sing songs like “I’m walking on sunshine” till we slap you on the face. Until then, shut up!” Now that we’ve got that settled, let’s move on to something else.
When I look back at my 4 years at Cornell, I can think more clearly about what I haven’t done and what i regret doing than what I’ve actually done and accomplished. I can’t seem to think about one thing I’ve actually done right, until I remember when one of my friends, who after falling in love with the Myers Briggs test helped me understand what it means to be an INFP. Obsessed with self-improvement, he or she constantly self-analyzes and is always beating him or herself up over silly things. Don’t judge me. I couldn’t have been the only 6 years old who was worried about the state of the world and how she fit into it. And so, I tell myself, “ey, Makafui, you are plenty awesome. Remember when you joined Tapestry, memorized lines and people actually remembered what you did? Yes, I guess that cool. And, remember when you would get on stage and think of Spoken Word poems off the top of the head…and it was actually good? Yeah, I remember that. Remember when you climbed Mount Kilimandjaro that summer? Wait…I never actually did that. Oh…sorry, wrong pep talk”. And then, I tell myself, “You may be the smallest fruit on the tree, but by God, You are still a fruit!” Wait, did I just make a politically incorrect statement? Keep it in context, people!
So, it’s the/my last week of classes at Cornell. Thinking about it makes me want to do this, * jump in the air and freeze*( You know that scene at the end of movie montages when the characters jump and high-five and they’re frozen in the air. Yeah, like that). All the trepidation and the uncertainty about next month/year reminds me about all the anxieties about coming to Cornell 4 years ago. At the time, Cornell, to me, looked like Oxford (Someone’s probably sitting somewhere, rolling their eyes going, “Bunch of nincompoops, I went to Cambridge”). Anyway, my only vision of college was from those ’90s movies where the halls look like the inside of churches and the professors are always trying to trick students…i’m sorry…help students think more critically by asking them incomprehensible philosophical questions (by the way, my favorite college movie? With Honors…since you’re asking and all). But in reality, it wasn’t as bad as I thought…some parts at least.
So, when I think about the end of college and finding a new identity, and finding a job where my boss yells at me every single day, where I have a long commute to work (anyone who lives in the DMV area knows what I’m talking about), and my tiny, dingy apartment has termites… or rats…or cochroaches… or sleazy landlords…or creepy neighbors…or all of the above, the anxieties start to come back . That’s when I tell myself, “eyy, Makafui, it won’t be as bad as you think”.
So, instead of complaining of couples and how they feel the need to throw it in my face about how happy they are, I’m going to take a chill pill, put the trepidations of life aside and say, “I’ve done it before. I can do it again.”