I’ve been taking quick surveys (under 30 seconds, one
question – promise!) recently on whether or not people think I’m a negative
person. It has been on more than one occasion that someone tells me I look
really happy and I need to remind them just because I’m wearing a jarringly
bright outfit that it doesn’t equate to me being idyllic and fancy-free. On the
contrary, just because I offer a less than glowing appraisal of something
(which some people call complaining) doesn’t
mean I hate everything. I’m not the kind of person who needs the “optimism
bias” to get out of bed every day. If it’s going to be a mediocre day, so be
it. Not everything is “epic” or the “Best. Night/Meal/Poop. Ever.” It makes me
question whether anything you actually do/eat/shit is remotely above pedestrian,
but I suppose that’s the trick isn’t it? No one wants you to know how dull their
life really is. I could have titled this “Good, Better, Best”, but that sounds
too positive and I’m just here to keep shit real, yo.
The Good
Try as I might not to sound like a Lululemon catchphrase, I
do really enjoy alliteration and subheadings, so The Good of these past ten
months can be best broken down into Live, Laugh, and Love. Don’t worry about me
turning into some kind of spiritual yogi, I can’t afford yoga anymore.
Live
My whole life has changed, whether I (or anyone else) like
it or not – and most days, I really do like it. I feel like I’m on the most
expensive vacation of my life, and pending a sweet full-time job upon
graduation, it feels like it’s already worth it. Mostly because it has opened
me up to so many people and opportunities beyond what I even imagined coming
in. I have noticed the way I think about things now is very different; it’s
completely subjective if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. But I did this Buzzfeed quiz and I’m “a bit smug and judgmental sometimes, but [I’m] not a total jerk.” The
tribe has spoken.
I know my life right now is very bizarre, and there’s a part
of me that’s terrified to go back to work and sit at a desk for at least 8
hours a day and forego my occasional mid-afternoon naps or going to the gym at
any hour. But the other part of me is just longing to return to productivity
(maybe minus the sedentary part), because even one week of idleness truly feels
like the vacation of fools. I will never be able to stay at home, sorry (not
sorry).
Laugh
If there’s one thing that’s still the same about me, is that
I don’t take anything all that seriously. I can only laugh at my own stupidity,
and somehow (unsurprisingly) that’s been plenty. Back in September my face made
a very close friend with a traffic pole on a London sidewalk. That will teach
me to drink a lot of gin, walk home, and look something up on my phone at the
same time. I got myself a great shiner – my first black eye, and it was
self-inflicted. I was actually able to hide it really well with my bangs (fringe),
but I was super worried because there were two things I have been banking on
for this MBA: my beautiful face and my even more beautiful brain. And a head
injury is a sure-fire way to ruin both.
Come November, with a healed eye but not much more common
sense, a fuzzy night ensued that could only be called Santa Pub Crawl which - long
story, short - resulted in an elf costume and falling off a pole in a club (con
gusto). Drinking (and subsequent
pole-related incidents) leads to many bruises. I am happy to report that I am
199 days without a pole-related injury, and am always laughing at myself.
Love
Here’s a fun one. I came to this MBA, like some, a bit
broken. I didn’t quite start this year where I thought I would be. I spectated a
lot of shenanigans when I first arrived (and still do!) and I was not ready to
take part in any of it. And they say that’s when something is most likely to
happen, when you’re least looking for it. The LBS MBA is terrible on
relationships: be it long-distance, local, engaged, or married – it can be a
battlefield. Perhaps because of the absolute vicious, high-school-esque rumour
mill that exists. Statistically speaking, if I’ve heard it from two different
people, it’s a fact, right? (I promise, this segment does belong in The Good
section) But it is possible to have a private life and nurture something
wonderful. This is definitely the most public I’ve been about my relationship,
ever. Thanks to all six readers!
I know what a blessing it is to have the support of someone
who has gone through, and therefore understands and accepts, the recruiting process, the study group, the constant
partying, et cetera and someone who I (used to be able to) see daily in the middle
of the day. On the massive plus side, should this work out, I get to tell
potential future offspring that mommy and daddy met at a bar.
The Bad
Diversity
Hey, didn’t you sign up for one
of the most diverse schools ever? Yes, and in fact, people are often impressed
that other Canadians are here too. But we are, and that’s my actual worry.
Someone recently asked me who my most exotic close friend at school was, and
after being Canadian about it and recoiling at such a culturally insensitive term, I
really started to think about it. Aside from being ridiculously good-looking
(as my number one criteria for all relationships), most of my friends skew quite
Western. And I’m a bit disappointed in that.
I am the first to admit that it is
a blend of my personality and how I make friends as well as the “natural” skew
of how nationalities tend to split themselves up. The Latins tend to stick with
the Latins, same with the Koreans, and those elusive Scandinavians, as examples.
This results in me getting put in various WhatsApp groups that I never asked to
be in, which I know I can remove
myself from, and will (eventually) stop complaining about – but the China
WhatsApp group never came knocking, you know?
Dreams
I am reminded of The Simpsons episode where Bart’s class
goes to visit the box factory and Bart tries to daydream another possibility
and can’t. I may have lost you there (and you may have lost some of my respect
for not being a fan of The Simpsons), but that episode also gives us this amazing clip. My general point is that instead of
working for the pharmaceutical company,
I will be working at the
pharmaceutical company. It’s so uncreative, I don’t even know what to say.
We were all told at the beginning of the year that being a
triple jumper is hard (that’s when you want to change your location, industry,
and role all in one go), but that was after we had already paid the big money
deposit. Obviously when they are trying to lure you in, they make it sound like
you’ll be able to shit gold by the time you finish here, what with their fancy
employment reports and shiny statistics. I am then reminded by the wise words
of modern Canadian lyricist, Drake (a.k.a. the wheelchair kid from Degrassi): “You
hate the fact that you bought the dream and they sold you one.”
Maybe that was a bit negative. But this is just my summer, it's not a death sentence. Although, I am in the Mississauga of London – I can’t escape the
suburbs if I tried. I’m actually not sure what I want to recruit for come
full-time, nor do I really know where in the world I want to be. If I came to
the MBA looking for answers, I seem to be better at coming up with more
questions.
The Ugly
Maturity
Someone told me I was their
favourite “sneaky baby” – an endearing term for someone who acts like a
curmudgeon but keeps getting carded at the grocery store for buying £5 wine. We should start a WhatsApp
group. I feel like my aging has expedited since starting the MBA. A tender 27 going on 40. Once my
dad asked me on Skype if I had put something under my eyes because they looked
so dark. Perhaps I should be doing the opposite and covering that shit up.
Do I love a great piece of
gossip? Hell yes. But will I go around betraying your trust and being
malicious? No, because that’s definitely not how my parents raised me. Do I
worry too much about what other people think about me? Still yes, but I am
slowly working on that one. What that really entails is actually being a decent
human being instead of worrying that everyone will find out what a shitty human
being you really are.
I am often incredulous at the
mentality (and ensuing behaviour) that I’ve become akin to. It is as if upon
re-entering an “academic” setting, we all forget that we are approaching
thirty, are thirty, or are over thirty and are all supposed to be fully functioning
members of society. Ah, the leaders of the future – today!
Mediocrity
I have it under good authority
that my English is going to shit. I’m not going to say it’s from speaking to
non-native English speakers (but maybe?), but also because I’ve really stopped
proofreading anything I write. I am convinced that anything we write is marked
purely based on a rubric, which evidently does not include grammar. Plus, the
number of egregious errors I find on my exam papers is beyond horrendous, so it
makes me feel like I don’t have to put the effort in either. Yeah, yeah – I know
I should rise above and be as mature as self-proclaimed above, but whinging is
just more fun sometimes.
Conclusion: still not sure if I’m negative – but
what I am sure of, is that this first year has been a whirlwind. I got sucked
into the belly of beast around the middle of March and have only now re-emerged
into some semblance of normalcy, sorry if you haven’t heard from me in a bit. I
still wouldn’t trade it for anything, though. Nor do I believe the sky is
falling down because a new class is coming in. I don’t want first year to last
forever, because every chapter has its time and I am very much looking forward
to the next. See? So positive.
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