I just have things to say.

I don’t know how many of you out there have experienced a long-distance relationship. (I should clarify that I’m specifically talking about long-distance boyfriends and girlfriends, though living far away from your family can be just as hard.) For that matter, I don’t even know if anyone actually reads these blog posts of mine. But anyway, dealing with a long-distance relationship is a big part of my life and everything I’m going through right now… so here we go, putting it out there for the world to see.

I think I mentioned in my first blog that I’m in a relationship with a guy named Ben. Likely, if you’re reading this, you know him - because generally, if you know me, you know Ben. We’ve been friends for around six years, I think, best friends for part of that time, and we’ve been dating for about two years. (First of all may I point out that it’s a pretty major accomplishment to start dating someone halfway through your junior year of high school and keep it alive into college. No easy feat, thank you very much.) We were around each other quite a lot in high school, despite having some separate circles (and some of the same circles as well). We grew to be very important to each other, first as friends and then as a couple, although our close friendship remains unscathed.

Ben and I went through a lot together in high school, and a lot of the growing and changing we did separately was influenced by our time together. We think alike on many subjects. We disagree on a great many subjects as well, which is part of what’s so important in our relationship. We are truly honest and we know each other very well, and that probably is one of the main reasons why our relationship has survived this far.

It’s hard to be away from someone you love. This is true of friends, family, pets, significant others, etc etc. It’s all the same. And it really does not get much easier. The transition from being together constantly to being separate constantly was made that much more difficult for us by the fact that we spent a month in China together before that split. The China trip was one of the best experiences of my life. I got to live with him and his family for quite a while. It was great, and we were together every day, pretty much every minute. But when we came back, the glory of the trip was in stark contrast with the loneliness that followed. I was definitely not used to living in Reno without him, and that was extremely difficult for me to adjust to. Ben, on the other hand, was experiencing heavy transition - moving from Reno to Sacramento, moving from Sacramento into his dorm at Berkeley, starting school. It wasn’t easy on either of us. While he was out trying to find a home in the midst of a really kind of chaotic time, I was trying to fit back into my longtime home, without the comfort of his company and without even school to distract me. It was really hard and I don’t really think I adjusted at all.

I saw him once more before I moved down to Los Angeles in mid-September. I drove down to Berkeley on the Friday before Labor Day weekend, picked him up, and drove back to Reno, all in one day. We spent a great three days together over the weekend, seeing friends, eating ribs, watching Star Trek, and enjoying the feeling of sweet reunion. On Monday of Labor Day weekend I drove us back to Berkeley, dropped him off, and drove back, also in one day. We got to visit his parents in Sacramento that day too, which was really nice. (That’s another thing I miss - being around his parents. We got to really like each other on the China trip. I miss them.) But then the weekend was over and it was back to trying to live in Reno without him. Because I was so not okay with being alone after that weekend, I started thinking about what was worth it - was it better to see him and be happy for a few days and suffer the agony of separation afterward? Or was it better to not see him and not have to endure that pain? This is as of yet an unanswered question, and it’s still something I struggle with.

Then I moved down to LA. It’s easier to live with long-distance here than it was in Reno, because at UCLA I don’t expect his presence. The problem with me living in Reno was that I was so used to being with him in that city that when he wasn’t there, there was a tangible feeling of something missing. Here, obviously it’s still missing, but it’s more bearable than it used to be. I tried to make UCLA a home - I’ve thrown myself into my classes, joined a sorority, gotten a job, personalized my dorm. Nothing can really fill the part of me that belongs with Ben, but at least there are parts of life at UCLA that I can hang onto as separate from him, when times get tough.

It’s just a lose-lose situation. I haven’t seen him since Labor Day weekend, about a month and a half ago. I can’t really go up to Berkeley without spending a lot of time and money, and he can’t really come visit me here, either. Having breaks from school at different times is also not helping. Plus, there’s that unanswered question - to be happy and then be unhappy, or to be sort of neutral without the pain? It’s like an endless problem hanging over my head.

All this makes me sound really unhappy. But I’m really not! I’m having fun here, and I like the life I’ve built over the past month or so. I like my classes and I like living around a lot of people that are nice and helpful and fun. It’s just that I feel like I have to be someone different here - someone whose life is not fully intertwined with another’s. This sounds so cheesy, like a novel about vampires or something like that, but it’s actually reality for me.

My conclusion? Long-distance is a no-fun, but necessary, part of my life. It’s difficult, it’s saddening, it’s upsetting in every way from anger at the circumstances to fear of things changing, but it’s going to be a part of my life for a long time. And as long as Ben doesn’t change his mind about anything, I’ll be spending a chunk of my life figuring out how to live away from he who defines me. Wish me luck!

I think we all know what the common thoughts about being in a sorority are. As soon as someone says, “I joined a sorority,” we think, ‘Oh, no. She’s going to start partying and drinking and sleeping around. Her sisters are going to become her only friends. This is terrible!’ And then we say, “Oh, sounds cool.”

I was that person - the one with only bad thoughts about sororities. I was not planning on rushing. I never saw myself as a “sorority girl” and I didn’t want to be part of an organization with such a bad rap. In high school, whenever one of my friends would ask me if I was thinking about joining a sorority, I would always laugh and say, “Um, no. I really don’t think it’s for me.” And we would all chuckle and think about what we know of sororities - which isn’t much and mostly incorrect anyway, thanks to The House Bunny movie - and that would be it. I was not at all interested in the “sisterhood” that sororities promised. No way.

But I talked to my grandmother about it, who had been a Pi Phi at UNR so many years ago. She said it was a good experience but that the decision to rush was up to me. Which I already knew, I guess, and I couldn’t help but think that times had changed enough that there were probably a lot of new factors that would influence my decision. It was helpful to hear it from her, especially because she is probably the most cool-headed, intelligent, respected person I know, but I was still unconvinced.

Then I talked to my childhood best friend, Sara. It’s sort of a funny story - I for some reason vividly remember a conversation we had about a year ago, when I was a senior in high school and she was a freshman at UNR, about how one of her best friends had joined a sorority. I had asked her if she was going to join, and she told me no, that she was very against the whole institution, and gave me a bunch of reasons why she thought they were bad. Then Sara and I went out for ice cream the week before I left for Los Angeles - we were joking about eating too much ice cream, and she mentioned that she had to wear a dress tonight so she shouldn’t eat too much, so I asked what she was doing that night, and she said she was pledging. So I had her tell me how on earth she had been coerced to join a sorority. We talked for a long time, while driving around the city, about the goods and the bads of joining a sorority, rushing, and everything else about “sorority life.” It was extremely enlightening for me. I guess I’d never really listened to anyone close to me tell me about their sorority experience. She had given me a lot to think about, especially because she, like my grandmother, is very down-to-earth and responsible with her life.

So I decided to rush. Why not? I might as well go meet some new people, even if I decided not to join a sorority. It was sort of a leap of faith, but I figured it couldn’t hurt. Why not, indeed.

I already talked about the rush process and how I felt about it, so, skipping right over that… Now, here I am, a new member of Tri Delta. I have to say, I just love it. I had a sort of revelation a few days ago about how I feel: I can honestly say that I genuinely like every girl in the house. How many organizations can you possibly get that feeling from? Yes, some party. That happens. But some don’t. And some drink, and some don’t. The common denominator is the support. I feel free to do what is right for me because I know that no matter what I decide, there will be 50+ intelligent, caring girls behind me, backing me up. I have my big sis, Suzanne, and so many other older friends to look up to, and I have my pledge class friends that are right there with me, going through the same things. I feel comfortable going to the house whenever I feel like it, eating there, studying, sleeping, hanging out. We’re welcome there, and it’s not awkward. I can wander into a room with a bunch of Tri Deltas that I haven’t talked to much and spend time with them like we’re best buddies. It’s really something fascinating for me.

There are differences, though. All these new relationships with my new Tri Delta friends are still superficial - it would take years of ups and downs to forge the the bonds of extreme closeness and understanding I’ve gotten with my best friends from high school, most particularly Alex and Ben. It’s hard for me to be away from my best friends (and Ben), because I never had to work at being friends with them - it came from going through good times and bad, rather than being thrown together in a sorority. I miss them.

But the sorority is helping. I really love Tri Delta, and I love what they represent - understanding, support, friendship. I see some sororities (not mentioning any names) that really don’t seem to be about that, and I’m so glad with where I’ve ended up. I’m sure I will have my ups and downs here, but I’m so, so lucky to be a Tri Delt. A perpetual bond of friendship, indeed.

These past few weeks have been a huge transition for me. Physically, it’s obvious - I’m living in a new city, in a new state, going to college, joining clubs, making friends, living on my own. That in itself is actually a big deal, when I take the time to think about it. But I feel a change coming over myself that is more of a shift in attitude. It’s strange to think that a physical move could bring about a mental one, but it’s there and I can’t think of any other cause. The title of this post is Positivity; however, I think it’s more than just that. It’s as though I’m rewriting part of the way I think. I’m going to give a few examples of the things that have served as reminders that I may have needed to change my view on the world at large, and we’ll see if I can’t find meaning in the madness just by writing it all down.

I decided to “rush,” or go through the process of sorority recruitment for the fall. I spoke to a lot of people about it before I decided - my mom, my grandmother, Sara, Ben - and they all had different things to say, so it wasn’t as though I went in totally blind. The process is very long to explain and confusing to understand, so I’ll give you the basics: there are several “rounds” of recruitment, and at the end of each round, you put down your top few sororities (the number you choose changes every day) that you enjoyed most during that round. The sororities also put down their top potential new members, and if your choices match up with the sororities who liked you best, you are invited back to visit those houses the next day. After each round, you choose a few less sororities that you liked, and you eliminate a few more (eliminate 4 after Round 1, eliminate3 after Round 2, 2 from Round 3, etc.) so that you’re narrowing down your choices. Eventually, at the last round, you will make a decision between two sororities and one of those sororities will offer you a bid to be a part of their house. That is the mechanics of the process. What they don’t tell you is that disappointment occurs for some people. A lot.

It’s really almost as though your decisions don’t even matter. After Round 1, we were supposed to have 8 sororities to visit the next day; I had four. That was because four of the sororities I had chosen didn’t want me back. Then, after Round 2, we were supposed to visit 5; I had two. The next round I only had one. Believe me, this was difficult to get through. It was like I was auditioning for several roles and I kept being cut, over and over again, for reasons I didn’t know or understand. I went into rush with my whole heart - I had great conversations at each house, and I really felt comfortable in the sorority atmosphere. But then I was told that I simply wasn’t wanted at over half the houses I visited.

It was not a confidence booster, by any means. It really confused me, especially in the beginning, when I overheard other people talking about how all eight called them back, or even seven. I felt like I had done something wrong, but I couldn’t figure out what it was - they ask you to simply be yourself, and I had done just that. It was a bit like a slap in the face, every day. That sounds a little extreme, so I’ll say it was like a flick in the ear, or something like that. It was frustrating, and even a little heartbreaking.

Every day, when I looked at my schedule and saw less than half of the spots filled by sororities that wanted me, there was disappointment. Then there was confusion, and questioning. But like it or not, I had a job to do - I had to go be myself again. So I shut down the questions in my head, the voice that told me I hadn’t done well enough, the nagging disappointment that dropped my confidence to a new low. I said to myself, “I guess those other houses weren’t a good fit. Let’s see what I can find in the ones I visit today. Maybe I’ll find the place where I belong perfectly. It will work out.”

It was a positive reaction! Okay, it was a forced positive reaction, but in all honesty, it made a lot of difference. I made myself think positively and keep an open mind, even when I wanted to just leave the whole mess behind me. And I kept visiting the houses and being disappointed the next day, and I kept telling myself that same thing. It seemed like such a change of heart for me, because though I’m always promoting positivity in others (to which Dan Moore can heartily attest), I tend to be somewhat hypocritical at times. This was new, though. I was purposefully looking toward the good, grabbing hold of potential happiness.

It’s sad that it is new for me to be positive. I don’t think I’m ever a really negative person, but sometimes - just like for everyone else - life gets me down. It’s hard to turn your mind around and allow only positivity, especially when in a situation where you’ve just discovered that you didn’t mean anything to a group of people with whom you felt you belonged. Even when I had just one house left - Delta Delta Delta - I stuck by my newfound positivity and made it the best it could be. And look where I am now? Surrounded by really great new friends, in the sorority that was apparently the best choice. Just like I made myself believe, it all worked out.

That wasn’t the only instance of forced positive thinking, though. Just ten minutes ago, when I found out that I did not make call backs for one of the a cappella groups I auditioned for (Signature A Cappella, for anyone who knows what I’m talking about), there was the same progression of emotions: disappointment, confusion, optimism. It’s strange to be able to take your attitude and flip it. It’s definitely new, for me, but I think it could honestly take me a long way.

I’m not saying it’s good to be happy with failure. That’s not what this is about, and that’s not what I’ve learned from these experiences. I’m just recounting the things that have very recently begun to make me a better person. The power of positive thinking (in appropriate situations, that is) can really be an important factor in some not-so-happy situations. But this post is really not necessarily about positivity, so maybe I should change the title; I think what I’ve really examined here is self-discovery and the importance of analyzing your own mind. To change your mind is one thing, but to recognize your emotional discomfort and make a conscious decision to do what you can to reverse it is quite another. Funny, how making a big move to a great school like UCLA for educational purposes can really teach you about yourself in ways you never expected. And I’m sure there is much more to come.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the foods I eat and the way I eat them. I’m not a very healthy eater - I eat fast food, processed food, junk food, and many other “bad” things. I don’t really eat that many fruits and vegetables and I almost always prefer chocolate or McDonald’s to anything healthy. It’s not to say that I don’t enjoy healthy food - I do - it’s more that I find it more convenient to feast on the things that give me temporary satisfaction of taste and sustenance. I’m leaving for China in two days and I’ll be there for a month, during which time I’ll be away from fast food and chocolate. Hopefully that will help me. I just wish I had the self-motivation to do what’s best for me in spite of what I want.

I’m usually not really into talking about my feelings, but sometimes I need to speak out.

Sometimes I feel like sharing the things bouncing around in my head.

I have a Word document on my computer that I use to talk to myself and hash out the things that are happening in my life. I entitled it “blog” because that’s what it feels like to me - a place where I can share my thoughts and look back on them objectively when the time is right. I started it on February 2nd, 2008, and now it’s over 70 pages long. And when I go back and read some of my old entries, I realize that I’m having the same issues as so many other people. So why do I keep them to myself?

It will benefit me to share what I think, and who knows - maybe it will benefit others.

So I am going to be a typical teenage blogger and talk about myself, for now.

I pole dance. Not for money, not in clubs - for fitness, strength, flexibility, and fun. I love it. It’s really difficult, but I’m glad of that. Yes, I have a pole in my house. No, it is not a “stripper” pole. It is an exercise pole and I use it for fitness.

Boyfriend = Ben. I’m sure he’ll be mentioned in this blog more than once, because he’s an integral part of my life. He’s pretty quirky.

Going to college in a few months. UCLA. I love it already. I’m open-minded about other schools, though. I’m not going to hate Berkeley or USC just because some people consider them our rivals. Let’s break stereotypes.

Blonde hair, blue eyes… yeah, I’m white. Unfortunately. I have an extreme obsession with Asia. Really. I’m visiting China this summer, and next year I’m planning on majoring in Linguistics and East Asian Languages and Cultures (yeah, that’s all one major). I love people, and I love cultures; talk to me about yours.

I like Twilight. It doesn’t mean I’m uneducated. I think it has a good storyline. I like other literature, too. Don’t judge me on the basis of Twilight; I’d hope that we’re all more open-minded than that. Oh, and by the way, I’m Team Edward.

The title of my Tumblr page is, “I just have things to say.” It says that for a reason. It is my whole approach to this. I’m not witty, sarcastic, or hilariously intelligent like Naomi; I’m not a connoisseur of writing and expression like Nicole; I’m definitely not riddled with poignant experiences like so many others who deserve the title of artist. I have thoughts, and I have the need to put them somewhere tangible.

I just have things to say. And sometimes I think they are worthwhile.