Thursday, May 31, 2007

LIFE 163: The Life Crisis

So I may only be a junior in college at this point, and I may be worrying a bit overly about something that will work itself out in the end, but it's worth noting anyway: I feel old. I don't mean, of course, that my head is balding or that my joints feel more and more brittle. Granted, I'm still pretty young in that respect. But being on the eve of my senior year and feeling the daunting task that is going to be graduating (including thesis-writing and class-passing), finding a job, and leaving Stanford, it's starting to worry me.

I'm sure I am no where near as frightened or worried as some of the seniors are right now. And, of course, I don't blame them. Naturally, I am also a little bit tired of this campus, feeling a bit underwhelmed by what it has to offer me and taking every opportunity I can to escape from it. The environment here is just too tense and too pressured, sometimes it really makes me wonder how tough the pressure must be in places where it isn't always sunny and 75 degrees. But perhaps in those places it is easier to get off campus. Unless you go to Cornell. But, that's another story.

The point is that being at this point, this cusp, if you will, and about to enter my senior year and to prepare for the outside (or "real") world can be a frightening affair. Case in point: I was walking to class today, humming along faintly to my iPod, carrying my Nalgene and my over-the-shoulder bag, trying to avoid direct glances at the sun or at people I know but don't really want to say hi to, and just generally being a college student when I had a flashback to Paris. In Paris, you don't look at anyone. Saying hi, even to someone you know, is rare because neither one of you is concentrated enough on examining the crowd to realize that someone is familiar. Or, really, you are too busy avoiding gazes from other people to realize that one of them is not just any "other" person. But then it dawned on me: this is all going to end, very soon.

In about a year's time, I'll be contemplating the fact that in two weeks I'll never be able to walk out of my dorm room and head to the library or the CoHo to study--I mean, why would I study anyway? In a year's time, the random encounters with friends sitting on lawns outside their houses will not happen: where I hope to go no one will even have a lawn or, if they do, they'd never sit outside and sunbathe on it. And, of course, in a year's time I will not be surrounded by overachievers, do-gooders, and extremely philosophical hippies, but rather by business people or tech geeks or maybe even your average joe. The real question, though, is how will the social scene work? How will I meet new people if I don't live with them? How will I find friends to go out to a bar with on a Friday night or to chat over coffees with in the middle of the afternoon? Most of all, how will I meet Mr. Right?

I kid somewhat on that last one, but it is a concern occasionally in my mind. I mean, in college you have your frat parties or your house events or your friends-of-friends who are people they lived with last year or had a class with this spring or were in X and Y organization with for the past 3 years. But in New York, in Paris, in LA, in Philadelphia, in Frankfurt...wherever, you don't have "classes" with people, and your housemates/roommates/neighbors aren't that likely to have lived with 40 other potential new friends last year. Maybe your co-workers are a good bet, but unless you work at a major organization with thousands of employees (not likely in my case), it's got to get boring hanging out with them and only them all the time. So what do you do on a Friday night? Is there anything good on TV?

So maybe I'm in the middle of another quarter-life crisis. Then again, college is all about facing one daunting task after another, at least in my experience. Moving on to regular life and navigating its lonely paths is probably the most daunting of them all. In the end, though, what better way to conclude your time in college than to suddenly lose all of the safety nets it had set up for you?

I'm game.

Wednesday, May 23, 2007

Pulling the cable...

Maybe TV is an evil machine that rots your brain and steals away your imagination. I mean, it's possible. So long as we accept that radio and cinema did the same, just as the video games and the Internet are doing the same now, just as Victorian novels once ruined our delicate youth and Shakespearean plays put dirt into the minds of the masses. But, on the other hand, perhaps TV is much like these other things, perhaps it too is an art form, when driven to extremes. Perhaps even Jerry Springer has something to say about our modern lives and about the struggles of the popular masses.

But in any case, I was reminded these past few weeks of what a struggle television writing is, what a difficult task it is to come up with an original idea in a media form steeped in cliches and overused plot tactics and recurring character types (if only because so many television shows have developed over the years). I watched three major season finales, which is to say I watched them the day after they aired on the websites of their respective networks, and all I have to say is, you win some, and you lose some.

What is the valor in writing about season finales? Well, you know, I ask myself the same question. But in the end everyone is a critic, and why not give the writers some credit for trying to be original. That in mind, quick assessments of each (trying as much as I can to avoid revealing any major details).

1. Grey's Anatomy. If I were the professor in a class on television writing, I think this finale would get maybe a B, probably a B-. In comparison to the work of other season finales, it seems to have come out well. But it is not high quality. If you really think about the season finale, absolutely nothing happened. No loose ends were tied. No characters (who we all know will have their own spinoff in the fall) have left the hospital...well, okay, so one character did leave the hospital, but still. A new chief was NOT chosen. A wedding did NOT happen. A relationship did NOT end nor recommence. NOTHING. You can't have a season lead up to a season finale, and then leave the season with the same loose ends left unsettled. Rewrite, and return to me on Monday.

2. Ugly Betty. Now, this one had some real promise. As a finale, things were actually getting resolved and new developments were actually occurring. However, potentially killing off practically every character (by my assessment) is not a good way to end a season finale, nor really a single episode. That's just lazy conclusion writing from my assessment. In the end, I was somewhat disappointed, because it was somewhat evident that the writers only decided to take a turn for the worst because they needed some way to end the season. No, this is not how a season ends. Sorry.

3. Heroes. By far the best season finale I have seen in awhile. There was an ultimate conclusion to the plot the entire season has been developing, and there was an opening to further plot development. Basically, everything was well concluded, and I have regained my faith that this is one of the best-written series on television (I have to admit, I was having some doubts the past few episodes).

So that's what I've been doing with my life the past few days. If you think that I am rotting my brain by absorbing myself in all this television...well, perhaps you are correct. But I only will watch a show if it is verifiable quality. It's a hard task, and I think in the near future television writers will be pushed to even further extremes, trying now more than ever to come up with original plot lines and to throw original stories into their shows.

In any case, it's time for me to get back and try to work on my own season finale. Look out for that. It's coming, in only about 4 weeks. Look out!

Monday, May 14, 2007

Procrastination is not a bad habit, it's a way of life!

I had a day like yesterday once. It started around 11, when I went out for a bite to eat at the sandwich shop down the street. From there I met a good friend for some shopping, starting at the wine shop, of course. We walked a few blocks, went to the biggest super market in the city to buy some hand-made jam and some fine important chocolate powder (they were gifts). When we stepped outside the sun was peaking behind a couple of buildings down at the end of the block, burning our eyes a little (a surprise after so many days of cloudy chances of rain). We kept walking past the fine premium shops, the local designers and the international conglomerates side-by-side. We made our way to the river where we bought some ice cream, then we sat and stared at a church.

Except, the church was Notre-Dame de Paris, the river was la Seine, the ice cream was Berthillon, the super market was La Grande Epicerie de Paris, and the neighborhood was St-Germain de Pres. But, despite all that gradiosity, despite all the celebrity that accompanies some of the most famous institutions of food and of culture that Paris has to offer, the day was actually a lot like my yesterday. Equally amazing, equally worthwhile.

The point is, I guess, that you can travel all over the world and see the most amazing places in order to get a change of scenery or to have a new experience. There's a lot out there to see. But there's equally as much to see around you, equally as incredible a world right around the corner.

I guess I shouldn't speak: I do go to school in Paradise. But still, I had an amazing day yesterday despite the normalcy and mediocrity that Stanford can at times embody. I started with a hummus plate lunch on California Ave with Courtney (yeah, Mother's Day crowds sort of make brunch difficult...go figure). Always amazing, but that goes without saying. Then, I got all of my work done at the library in 2 hours, leaving me enough time to rent a couple of movies to take home and watch in the evening. Subsequently (yeah, weird word...look at it, admire it), I went to White Plaza to, surprise, go watch Chris and Jocelyn (aka the Red Stone Tea Forest) perform amidst the Spring Faire. Then, a meeting, a tamale dinner, an after-dinner food coma time-of-goodness, an evening of accomplishment, and all before bedtime! And I watched Mysterious Skin.

Perhaps my day was unusually amazing, but it can't be coincidence that I've been having more and more amazing days lately. I don't think it's that I've made them more incredible though, I think it's that Paris has taught me to appreciate them a little more. You see, it's hard to remember to take time out for a little fun, for a little break once in awhile. Our teachers and the posters on their walls used to tell us that procrastination is the least responsible practice out there, that efficiency is about starting early and finishing ahead of time so that you can relax when your done. I used to buy into it all, used to think all that was true. But you know what, it turns out it's complete and utter crap. Life isn't about working hard so that you can relax later. Wake up...you don't get to relax later! Finish and they'll just pile on more work, until you've become a lean, mean and efficient machine.

Sorry for the tirade, but it's true. No, my life is no longer about working first and relaxing later. My priorities have switched, and I think that's the part of France that I've adopted the best. Relaxation is of primary importance, work is for the last minute. After all, if you are skilled at the last minute, then you're definitely overly skilled at the on time work. And if you ever wonder, well, look for me taking a walk instead of working on my 10-page paper that's due tomorrow and is currently only an idea in my head (that's a lie, but it could happen). I'm the one getting the fun out of everything, saying screw you to all the deadlines and due dates piling up in my mind.

Man, Paris was incredible. But so is Stanford. So is Orange County. So is all of it.

Monday, May 07, 2007

Monotony is bliss

There is something to be said for the routine, for the usual, for the comfortable. I mean, most of the time in life you've heard your friends tell you to step outside your confort zone, or your parents told you that there's nothing to be afraid of, or your high school teacher told you to just give it a try. "What the heck?" runs through your head, somehow you build up your nerve and you do something you've never done before. And that's all well and good and very important.

But you know, sometimes it's important to recognize the routine. We spend our lives passing through the day-to-day, getting it done because it's meant to get done, falling into line with our schedules and our plans and our stress. But when does the routine become the routine? When do your new classes become your classes, when does your new workout schedule become your regular workout, when does life cross into that line of boring regularity? Maybe that's why so many of us find ourselves at a point where we've just grown tired, where the new classes each quarter have just become the new quarter, which in turn has become just another quarter. And it doesn't matter where you go to school or how much you were in love with the place when you got there, at some point it becomes routine, life gets boring. I mean, heck, I went to Paris. "What the heck?" I thought. Why not?

And perhaps it was a good decision. Perhaps it was the best experience of my life. But eventually the new and the exciting has to end and you have to return to the routine. I dreaded that return, I thought that I would become exceedingly bored again and never be able to see Stanford in the same light. Everyone goes through that, everyone does change the way they see Stanford (even if they stayed on campus). Nothing new, nothing original. The hard part, however, is getting through it. The hard part is realizing that no matter how menial and how tedious the routine can get, it was at one point exciting and new and it always has potential to be just as exciting and just as new (and just as shiny) again.

The point, I guess, of this entire rant is that allowing the routine to get you down is not really worthwhile. It's important to throw some variety in there, yes, but to always accept that the routine is the starting point. It may be menial and it may be boring, but it's only a routine for a little while. And once it's gone, you're going to miss it, so why not cherish it while you can? What the heck? Why not get enjoyment out of classes and have fun going to the gym. I mean, in the end it's not about chores and about tediousness. In the end, it's your routine, the one you chose, because at some point way back when as a naive and uncertain seventeen-year-old you thought it was the right thing to do.

I guess I'll just stick it out. I've never left anything unfinished, and there's no reason to start now. I miss Paris, I loved my time there, but it's time to get back to life, until I go back and find newness in everything around me again.