Rutgers Rut, Part II

I’m not quite sure how I accomplished this conversation, but I was feeling rather comfortable, it fit into conversation, and I stated how I was feeling rather overwhelmed. I also stated how I probably won’t graduate in four years. I don’t give my dad enough credit. He stated how he had to take another semester. He told me to take my time. He even suggested taking a semester off. All he cares is that I graduate.

My dad came back from India1 a few days ago. He was there for the past month or so. He mentioned that he passed through Italy on the way back. Yeah, my dad gets around. So I asked him if he’s ever been to Australia. He said he hasn’t. Again, I was feeling comfortable, so I stated how Aussie girls have cute accents. He agreed. He then pointed out that if I wanted to GOTO Australia, there’s a cheap way to do it: Study abroad. Okay, maybe he didn’t say cheap. Maybe he said easy. Whatever.

I’ve never really given much thought to studying abroad. When people ask me where I’d like to live, or where I’d like to travel, I never have anything to say. I guess I don’t have that big drive to go anywhere, unless there’s somebody there. I guess I don’t have too much of that Kirk “Because it’s there” mentality. I play it too safe, you know.

I was in the passenger seat, flying down 287. Sure, I’ll admit it, the concept excits me. I have no real interest in Europe. Why? Because I only know one language. I’m just a stupid american. Nevermind my broken spanish. I’m just another stupid american who only knows ONE LANGUAGE. Yes. Massive stereotype. I know how I am with attempting to avoid them. At least, in my head. I thought of Carolyn and how she was there last semester. *smirks* I’d feel silly following her footsteps. And for why, really? Because I think the accents are cute?

I am in a rut, plain and simple. Maybe seeing the toilet flush in the opposite direction will help me find myself. Ironic that to find ourselves, we have to get as far away from ourselves as possible. Perhaps to see what remains when you strip away environmental factors, I don’t know. Again, I’m in a rut. Another semester of the SAME RU SCREW style shit, well. Compared to this poisoning routine I have, throwing myself across the equator doesn’t sound too bad. My dad’s always happy to hear when I do shit. He used to say how if I see something good for Spring Break, to go for it. I never did buy into that Spring Break culture that’s sold to college-age kids. Tourist-money-making-scheme.

I don’t know. New things always scare me. There’s always the “Wait, do I really want to do this?” There’s the fact that I HATE getting all worked up over something, only to get scared about it later and not talk about it because I don’t want people to remember how excited I was. *smirks* I should look into it. ..I also think I should declare a major. *laughs* Any major. Put a little focus on getting the hell out of college.

In my mind, I have visions of being surrounded by cute Aussies, and creaming my g-strings listening to their voices. Yeah, shut up, we all like thinking nice thoughts. I remember Carolyn made friends with people from other countries. For being so reserved, she does have that knack for making herself DO things. Not even illegal things. Just. Being out there. I envy her, in that regard. That drive she has to make the things she wants out of life happen. (Well, to some degree. She sure seems like she knows what she’s doing.) I’ve driven myself straight into this rut.

I have my Metaphysics books on me, but I probably won’t look at them. Amazing how I can get stressed out when I’m not even doing anything. I went to Cliff’s house – he wasn’t there, supposedly at Danny’s. I went to Danny’s house – Cliff and Danny apparently went to Chester for movie/food/jews. I considered trying to hunt them down, but I wasn’t up to it. Maybe if it was an hour earlier in the day. But hey, I’m not a risk-taker, I don’t feel like asking the person working at the theatre, “So.. have you seen two guys with long hair come in here?” I just don’t have that kind of confidence.

I’ll pester Cliff tomorrow. I gotta have something to write about. : D

1. My dad’s Indian, foo. He came to the US when he was 16. Amazingly, he has none of that stereotypical Indian accent. Now his younger brother, my Uncle Eshwar.. He has that accent. I can’t figure it out. *laughs* My being a mutt is the reason inter-racial dating seems completely normal to me.

Addendum: Check this out.