Tag Archives: hope

Feeling Better About Minnesota

Despite my apprehension about my new job, I have begun to feel progressively better about being in Minnesota. Or rather, as I began and ended this week (Monday and now today), I was — and currently am — feeling positive.

Monday:

For all that visiting Chicago has made me desperately miss it and wish I were still/already living there, my brief time back has also, perhaps counterintuitively, made me feel better about spending the next year in Minnesota. Let me be clear: I miss Chicago; I miss my friends; I wish more than I can articulate that I were living there now. And yet, the fear that I’m going to be forgotten if I stay away is slowly ebbing. That fear was really fueling the need to get back now — the feeling that not only do I not want to wait, I can’t wait, or else I’ll lose everything and everyone I miss so much. It’s a stupid, irrational fear, but it was strong. Continue reading

Tattoo Ideas

If you got a tattoo, what would it be?

When I was young, I always thought that I would get a single tattoo. Just one, black ink — my name, perhaps (one of them, anyway). Some of the first tattoos I saw and liked belonged to a few family friends — brothers who got their names in Arabic, I think, with the tree from the flag of Lebanon (they’re of Lebanese descent). It was strong, personal, timeless. Seeing their tattoos may have been the first time I decided that I wanted a tattoo.

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It Gives Me Hope

Walking down the stairs at my parents’ house this holiday season, one of the first things I noticed was my Christmas stocking. All of our stockings were hung in a row at the landing, hand-knit stockings that my paternal grandmother made for each of us long ago (so long ago, in fact, that I cannot remember a Christmas without them), our names knit into the border at the top of each stocking. Mine, this year, had a little sign my parents had made, which designated the stocking as belonging to “RYAN.” Continue reading

Thesis Trouble

The thesis is such an integral part of the Bryn Mawr experience that it has its own Step Sing song (“I’ve Been Working On My Thesis”), and it’s the beginning of another (“Colossal Pain”). Everyone knows about theses: we’re told horror stories about them for three years.

Perhaps needless to say, I was nervous about the thesis process (“terrified” might be a more accurate word — if some of the seniors I’d talked to were to be believed, my thesis was going to eat my soul). The start of junior year rolled around, and I still had no idea what the topic of my thesis would be. Oh, I had mumbled a little to the philosophy major advisor the spring before about queer theory (not that I had read any Foucault or ever studied queer theory at Bryn Mawr), but after not managing to get through either of the Judith Butler books I had checked out over the summer, that was looking less and less promising. To make matters worse, my thesis advisor was on some kind of emergency medical leave for the first half of the semester. Better and better, right? Continue reading