He's Up To Something

This is from a while ago, but I still wanted to write about it.

I skipped class. Whoops, sorry! Okay, not that sorry. It was History of Chinese Civilization, and I had all of this other stuff to do, and I was more productive during that time than I would have been in class, that's for sure. Solitaire, I'm looking at you. So, yeah, my regret is limited. Before I went back to Gregory to revel in academia, I ate lunch in Houston with some friends from my hall that I ran into. At first everything was pretty standard for a conversation with Gregory people. Weird, oddly pointless despite the intellectual footholds people were using for arguments--no big deal. But all of a sudden, my friend K. was like, "I just realized now how much life really sucks." And one of our other friends was like, "Well, yeah." But this wasn't just a moment where someone gets annoyed because they didn't get something that they wanted, or because they just missed out on something, or whatever. This chick was straight up having a mini existential crisis right next to me. "Life sucks, and it never gets any better." I..just sat there. I had a bunch of different thoughts going through my head, but I didn't know how to attempt comforting this friend without sounding preachy. I know why I'm here, maybe not specifically, but I know Someone who has a plan for me. How am I supposed to share this with my friends in a way that won't make them want to run away from me? The more I think about it, the more I start to wonder if I should have just told her anyway. Everyone in Gregory that knows me knows that I'm a Christian, so it's not like it'd be this out-of-the-box thing for me to say. I think that if it had just been the two of us, I would have, but it wasn't just the two of us, so I guess I'll never know. Anyway, I'm kind of worried about this friend. I've heard of a few people this year who have had to just leave because they can't handle the pressure of Penn anymore, and all of them have been sophomores. I don't want her to have to do that; I mean, if she needs to, then by all means. But I really want to try to help her, you know? So, if you read this, give me some advice, please? ^^ Thanks.

I Love You.

Recently, certain things have prompted me to really examine my personality. These things include people commenting on how outgoing I am or on how many friends I have or how happy I am, but nothing forced me to actually think on all of these things together until Priscila informed me that I was going to be sharing my testimony for welcoming. Maybe to some of you sharing isn't such a big deal, but as I've already pointed out, sharing is not my favorite thing. When it comes to my testimony, I'm averse to sharing because it requires me to (however briefly) mention the status of my family and also dredges up bits and pieces of my past (not a k-drama melodramatic past or anything, but still. Stuff that contributed to my make-up. Foundational Octavia business.). After that bomb was dropped, I spent the rest of the week thinking about how to present my testimony. Would I sort of gloss it over with a quickie version, or would I try to be open? Again, some of you may have been super quick with that decision, but I really had to work to convince myself that being open with welcoming was a good thing and that it was going to be okay. When I started to think about my testimony I realized that everything was pretty short. Thinking back, there are a few things I didn't mention that maybe I could have (should have?). Regardless, I decided to sort of supplement the basic "and then I got saved" bit of my testimony with a way that God has actually been working in my life. This finally brings me back to what I was talking about at the beginning of this post.

Every time someone tells me how outgoing I am or comments on my friendly/outgoing/whatever personality, I mentally do a bit of a double-take. It's not like I try to be mean or anything--I do try to be nice to everyone. But people sometimes bring it up like it's...more than expected? I'm not sure exactly what I mean by that, but I'm just going to go on. I was talking to a couple of the sisters a couple weeks ago, and in response to one of the things we were talking about one of them said, " I just don't understand why with your personality this is hard for you." And I was like, what the heck? What personality? And then I felt like I needed to procure a little piece of information that hinted at what a broken mess I really am on the inside. I don't know if anyone happened to see a few of my gchat statuses last week, but the general idea was "Everyone thinks I'm that version of myself so...am I?" Because now literally everyone thinks that I'm a friendly, happy, outgoing person who loves everyone, and I wasn't quite sure if I saw myself that way. I've had problems loving people in the past. Constant rejection will do that to a person. It wasn't just direct rejection like boy stuff, though there was plenty of that. As much as I tried to deny or ignore it, my parents' assorted divorces and remarriages have effectively wreaked havoc with my psyche, along with other family related drama. I used to really struggle with loving people because I knew I couldn't guarantee that they would always love me back. Whether I did a good job of hiding it or not, I was a heartbroken child for a really long time. Despite all that, God somehow changed my life while I wasn't looking. My family situation hasn't much improved, and as previously stated on this blog there are not, nor have there ever been any boys, but regardless God made me happy. He restored my capacity to love people, and He gave it back to me stronger than it had ever been (though a certain Wharton personality quiz will argue that I'm still limited in my capacity to love and be loved--screw Wharton).

Thanks to welcoming and that crazy, domineering, loving Priscila, I was finally able to understand a bit more of the prayer I got all the way back during AMI. All of this time I've continued to believe that I'm a broken person, and probably parts of me still are. But rejection just isn't my identity, at least not anymore. God was working in ways I hadn't even realized until now (whoa, I just started crying a little), and He made His love my identity. I'm just a little overwhelmed, because I've gone all this time thinking, Oh, God's made me a little more mature, a little happier. I didn't recognize myself when I first looked at myself during my testimony soul-searching time. I didn't recognize that He completely overhauled my entire personality and turned me into someone He can use. I've gone from not being able to really like anybody to desperately wanting to love everybody, regardless of whether or not they'll ever love me back. I'm definitely not perfect at it--I'm still extraordinarily insecure as to whether or not people really care about me, and the more I care about somebody the more insecure I am. Just ask Priscila how often I remind her to pay attention to me/love me/etc. It's only half-joking. In the case of some people in my class, I have trouble trying to reach out to them because I feel like they don't like me. I'm not a perfect love machine. But wow...am I better.

I know sometimes I digressed a bit, but...whatever.

Ugh, Ew, Boys, Get Them Away From Me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

As if I don't have enough to worry about, you know? I have six classes worth of work to do, I have meetings, I have commitments all the way up to HERE, and still. STILL, my roommates cannot let go of this boy thing. They just don't understand all of the different directions I'm coming from with this, and instead choose to just plug their ears and la-la-la me out of the room so that they can get back to plotting my future without my input. The worst part is, it isn't just them! There's this creepy unspoken expectation that 2013 will follow the previous class's example and explode into a dating frenzy. There are my friends from PFP who creepily remember my time limit for boy consideration. People from my church and school back home could NOT stop asking me over the summer if I had met anyone special during my first year. My family...oh gosh, let me just give them bullet points.

• Mom: "So, how is [insert name here] doing?" Me: "Ew/Taken/Gay." Basically, my mother will just be thrilled if I tell her that I've found someone likable/available/straight, let alone if I start dating him.
• Dad #1: "Hey, how are the boys down there? Are you beating them off with a stick? When can I meet your boyfriends?" Yes, he pluralizes. Listening to him is just awful, since I feel like I'm behind the curve here and should have already had multiple romantic entanglements. Whoops.
• Dad #2: "So...Tave...any guys down there that you uh, might be interested in?" Oh, Dad #2. Just so heartbreakingly expectant. Maybe one of these days, Dad #2.
• Ari: "FOR CRYING OUT LOUD, will you just start DATING already?! What the heck are you waiting for?! You're surrounded by all of these hot college guys!!! Tell them I'm almost eighteen." Omgosh, ew. I seriously fear for her after this year.
• Tydra (my aunt): "You're so Puritanical." This is basically her opinion of pretty much everything that I do(n't do).
• Grannie Rie: "Any nice boys down there?" Painfully hopeful!!! Oh, how I would be thrilled to present her with great-grandchildren, but further down the road and in wedlock.

I feel like ever since I've gotten back, the pressure has increased EXPONENTIALLY. Melanie and Ama have taken on madly stalk-tacular duties to hunt down a boy they've decided is perfect for me. Even my sister is calling me up to demand that I present her with nieces and nephews (oh heavens, she is going to be such a problem). The worst part of ALL, though, is that my own stupid organs have started to BETRAY ME. MY HEART HAS STARTED BEATING AND I AM SORELY DISPLEASED.

Let's not get excited. It is not beating for anyone in particular. It is just overcome with early (or late) spring fever. I am getting out my Tylenol. My roommates, if they read this, will probably die of joy. They'll use this as an opportunity to shove me in the direction of nameless-boy-that-is-nice-and-whatever. That isn't what I want.

Honestly, I still don't think that I'm ready for the kind of guy that I think God wants me to be with, which is what makes things harder. My Grinch sized heart has grown a size or some such crap, but there is no room for it. I cannot put it anywhere. So now I am all emotional but smart enough to realize that I'm probably still not ready, and everything is just a hodge-podge in my brain. I mean, I'm praying that maybe God will be like, "Oh, surprise!!! You're ready!" but I don't want to trick myself, you know? Because I don't think God goes, "LOL, jk." Any of those moments would have been brought on by my own willingness to deceive myself and then getting called out by God. My roommates (and really, along with my sister they are the primary offenders) are just like, "It's okay, just have a crush on somebody at least. Please, Octavia. PLEASE." They don't understand why I don't want crushes. To me, crushing on somebody is just another way to make yourself vulnerable, and if there's one thing I don't like being, it's vulnerable. I try to be vulnerable where God is concerned, but in all other areas I try to be a freaking brick house. It starts with, "Oh, Timmy is so cute and nice, perhaps I will just try to hang around him more often," and then turns into, "Oh, I saw Timmy today and he was so great I really like him," and ends with either "Oh, crap, Timmy started dating Tammy," or "Oh, crap, I kind of like Timmy but he found out, does not like me, and is now avoiding my like I am carrying malaria." I don't want that. Nobody wants that. I'm not going to open myself up to that until I've decided that I've found someone darn well worth it. Ama is also a bit of an advocate for the Date for Fun Party, but I'm most definitely not trying to do that, either. I've waited this long, so dagnabbit what I'm waiting for is going to be important. I'm not going to trivialize it.

I feel a bit weird posting about boys, but since so many people KEEP ON FREAKING ASKING, I figure this is a good way to sort of put this out there. Also, I feel like sometimes people think that because of my general enthusiasm for talking to people that I don't have many other feelings besides "I like talking and everything else," so I like using the blog to prove that I have a brain and other functioning organs .

Just a snippet stream of consciousness

tiredclassesstressedstupidughboysroommatesoutofcontrolwhatthehecksegwaydiningplanaskaboutstreamersaskaboutdoublemajoringdon'tforgetanytingcleanroomgotothegymbeprettykeeptryingdon'tEATthatomgoshcalmomdon'tstresspayforticketfixschedulelose50eitherwayDON'TPANICdon'tpressthespacebarhahahait'sactuallynottoohotinhereineedtosleepineedmoneyineedtoberichsothaticantakecareofeverybodyelseiampressurediwantapizzalunchableWITHPEPPERONIidon'twanttheonewithjustcheesegoshineedtobuythingsineedthingsthatdon'tcostmoneyineedmoneyineedtextbooksineedtobesuperangryatthisprofessorbutican'the'ssofunnyandniceandyouknowwhatitreallyistimeforsleep.

Grrarrggghhhhhuuuggghhh *weep*

I really enjoy college. Honestly, I do. I'm thrilled to the high heavens that my textbooks just came in today and I've started reading one of them and I have all of these (most likely short-lived) aspirations to be the BEST STUDENT EVER, and I want classes to start soon. That being said, I pretty much want classes to start so that I'm busy. Being busy takes my mind off of the fact that I'm feeling heinously displaced, despite starting my second year. I don't know if I can explain this properly, but I'll try. I feel like coming back to Penn for my sophomore year has been almost the same as coming for my freshman year. I feel so anxious, and I'm like, HOW WILL I MAKE FRIENDS??? And I'm so worried that I'm going to end up slouching in a corner somewhere because I'm too afraid to talk to people and that my roommates won't like me and that I'm going to be some sort of heartbroken social pariah. But everything's fine. I have nothing to stress about really, but I'm stressing about everything. For real, I was thinking earlier, maybe I should have a notebook to write notes in while I actually read, even though I'll be taking notes during class. And then I remembered that I pretty much don't have notebooks (though I think I have a couple in storage). And then my heart almost stopped and I almost wanted to cry. That isn't healthy! I don't know what's wrong. It's worst when I'm tired. When I'm up in the morning and running all over with Melanie and Ama and Victoria, everything's great. I'm like, phew, I have friends. But when I stop moving I start to get really insecure and worried about everything, and I'm like, checking my email to find out about GCC and RDP and working and classes and I remember something I was supposed to do and I feel so FREAKING HOT in this non air-conditioned place and my room is making me feel like crap because I don't know how I'm going to make everything fit and this nugget of anxiety/insanity builds up in my chest until I finally call my Mom. Because on top of everything I am also homesick, which is just lovely after all of the time I spent counting down the weeks until I was back at school. Thinking about hanging out with GCC calms me down, because I'm like, Oh, phew, God is there. But God is here, too. I just have to really believe that and talk to Him and not blame my environment for my attitudes (because I really hate it when people do that). But there you go. I'm anxious and stressed and homesick and it makes me wanna curl up somewhere and feel sorry for myself and maybe cry a little. But it's too hot to really do much curling up in Gregory. I'd have to go somewhere else. Still.

I'm Not Really That Deep

I can't keep having meaningful moments every day. Besides, with what you all know of my trust issues, do you really think I'd share everything anyway? Precisely. But I did want to give some sort of update into my life even though nothing too humongous is going on. This is:

THE WEEKLY RUNDOWN!!! (Exclamation points added in hopes that their presence will retroactively make the week more exciting than it actually was.)

• Monday: I journeyed into downtown Chicago with 2013's very own Sunny Kang. It was great; we totally did the tourist thing. Even after Sunny's digital camera battery ran out, we weren't going to let that stop us from serious selca-ing (yeah, that's right, I just casually dropped some non-English slang into a sentence). We stopped in a Walgreen's on the magnificent mile and bought some disposables! Which I still need to have developed, btdubs, so I'll have to do that first thing tomorrow since I leave on Sunday!!! I also went out with two of my friends from home later that night and saw the mind-numbing Eat, Pray, Love. I wanted to kill myself both during and after the movie. I should have killed myself beforehand and spared my brain the viewing. Nearly three hours of my life, wasted. Eat, Pray, Shoot Me.
• Tuesday: I spent until the wee hours of Tuesday morning taking down my braids, stopping to sleep at 4 am when I had dismantled my entire head and had combed out my hair. I snagged six hours of sleep and then woke up to finish the job. First, I took pictures, since I did promise. The first set of pictures were with my large, relatively straighter afro. Then I washed my hair with some serious business black people shampoo and conditioner and took more pictures with the smaller, curlier afro. All of these pictures are on Facebook for your viewing pleasure, as you will never, ever get to see me without braids in person. I'm not even going to apologize for that. The rest of Tuesday was spent bumming around until it was time for my appointment. Gigi, the woman I've been going to for the past couple of years, is a wicked fast braider but often schedules appointments right on top of each other so that you're waiting at least an hour before she even starts on you. She didn't disappoint on Tuesday. I was late, practically on purpose since I expected the sitting, and even after all that. Still with the sitting. Yeesh. I read a book and a half, tried to play my Nintendo DS, nodded off, and participated eagerly in Wheel of Fortune. I also watched the most of an episode of Wipeout I ever have, and it was hilarious. The Smackwall...HAHAHA.
• Wednesday: Well, something happened on Wednesday, but what was it? Oh, the great phone hunt. My sister and I have been trying to get new phones, and finally we decided on the phone and what have you, but ordering online didn't work. I needed to go to some store and verify my identity or some crap like that. So then we do that, but we can't get any of the discounts at the store. Turns out AT&T authorized retailers are franchised out like Subways or whatever, so that was just a super frustrating five hour long experience, arguing with salespeople and then schlepping all over the place in search of the phones we wanted. The store in the mall FIVE MINUTES AWAY from our house agreed to give us all of the discounts, but they haven't gotten the phones yet. A salesperson named Kelly promised me they'd be in tomorrow afternoon. We shall see.
  
• Thursday: I did a great deal of packing and laundry on Thursday. The phones hadn't come in, which I know because I called and asked.*Sigh*. I don't remember anything else of note happening on this day. I am running out of money, I think, was a thought that went through my head. Should I have worked this week, was the next thought, but I promptly laughed it out the door and slammed it shut and bolted it and forbid it reentry.
• Friday: That's today, so yeah. Did some more packing and singing to my Grooveshark playlist. My mom came home in the middle of the day to drop of my sister and told me that she had given our daycamp boss what for, which greatly pleased me because I have never been fond of that man. He manages to make everything all about himself, unless it comes to taking responsibility in which case he deflects like nuts. And then, this one time, the 3-5 year age group was on a field trip at this place that had paddle boats. All of my kids were like, Wheeennnnn can we go to the boats, Miss Tavi, and finally we made it to the boats, and the line was astronomical. So we're waiting and waiting and the daycamp boss man gets in line with us ahead of like, two families. And I was like, Um...? And tried to shoot meaningful glances and the people he had just jumped, and he was just sort of, Ho hum. Oh, I'm getting so annoyed just thinking about this next bit. He puts his son IN FRONT OF MY KIDS. Who had been waiting, so patiently, and they were being so well-behaved even though it was like a million degrees. And I was like, EXCUSE ME? But not, because he had the power to fire me, and I was just giving him very disapproving looks. I am so glad I am never working there again, because now if he ticks me off I can just say so. I have no respect for that dude. Sorry if I'm disappointing anyone. Anyway, that was a huge digression. Basically, my mom came back with Ari and brought me a salad, which was great because I was wondering what I could make to eat out of three Hershey kisses, a cheese stick, and some butterscotch candies. Nothing delicious or healthy, I can tell you that. Okay...maybe delicious. Then my mom reminded me that I had to turn in my work key, and I was like, Oh crap, because I totes did not remember where I'd left that thing. So instead of bumming around at home while my sister went to her last ever high school orientation, I went, too, so that I could search our car for it. Our car is a straight up disaster, so this is more serious than it sounds. BUT I FOUND IT, hallelujah, Lord be praised. I was starting to work my way up to getting stressed. I also won a raffle at this new brainy store that opened up in Woodfield mall, so I got a free board game. It's the junior version, and the guy behind the counter wouldn't let me upgrade it, which irked me, but whatever. It still seems fun. And it was free, so really, who am I to complain? On the way back home I texted furiously with Ama, who is fed up with our BFFLS Jing and Bryant (and I don't blame her; those boys need replacing) and has also been plotting something nefarious with our other roommate Melanie. She still won't tell me what it is, but I have only bad feelings about this. They never want to convince me to do anything like, I don't know, save kittens or something. It's always, Octavia, go date some boys. Octavia, let's all get matching tattoos in the future. Hah! I don't think so.

TTFN.

This Post Is Of Next to No Significance.

I started writing this blog because I wanted to make public some of the things I was experiencing in both my Christian walk and my regular life. I mean, obviously those two things should be one thing, but I think you understand what it is I'm trying to say so I'm going to stop rationalizing that statement now. Anyway, I was talking to a 2013 sister about how hard it is to be genuinely open with people, at least for me. On My Yay was, I think, a pretty decent first step, but it's easier to be open across the internet when people can't see your eyes or listen to the tone of your voice or note your body language a la Lie to Me. When I'm face to face with people, I have to work to want to share with them. I don't know if it was my time at Satan's Darlings Elementary, or a natural byproduct of my dysfunctional family life, but I don't want to be open with anyone. Of course, most normal people won't be open right away, but honestly, it takes me an abnormally long time to be comfortable sharing with a person. Sure, I did it (to a point) in family group and I do it (to a point) with the other 2013 sisters, but I'll always manage to stop just short of truly opening up. I (and the other 2013 girl totally concurred) have this idea that everyone else has his life sorted out, and that my life is absolute wreckage in comparison. I don't want to share with people because I feel in my heart that once they know what really goes on inside of my head and in the rest of my life, those people will feel so burdened by the mess I am that they will run in the opposite direction. Emotionally secure I am not. Too many times I have been abandoned (and I won't open up about it because it's just too much [Oh, gosh, see? But I just can't.]) for me to trust that anyone can see all that I really am and not go away or shut me out. Here would typically be inserted the upswing of this post, that part that goes, "And so I see that God is the only one who truly accepts me just as I am, and He will never leave me nor forsake me. Amen, hallelujah." All of that is true; all of that's great. For this particular post, though, I'm not just concerned about my relationship with God, though, of course, that's a priority. I'm concerned about my ability to truly fellowship with other believers. When I'm talking to anyone I really want to have fun and be chill and just talk. Talking's fun. Talking is one of my favorite things to do. But I really start to clam up when the time rolls around to start talking about our feelings and crap. I can't just be like, I feel so awful because of what's happening here, because then I'm vulnerable. But being vulnerable is supposed to be a good thing when it comes to the Christian family, right? Except I hate it and I want no part of it. Then I get that expectant look and I share but it's always a modified version of what's really going on, or it's something that'll get people to move along rather than what's actually going on. Trust issues, that's what that is. But what do I do? Push through it, I guess. Share without regard to the risks. Ugh, I hate it. I want no part of it. But I guess I'll do it.