So. Where to begin? Well, classes are over, and unless I screw up significantly on my final papers, I shall pass! Yaaaaay! Slope day was fun; I slept in and cleaned my room. Seriously, there were baby dust bunnies riding atop their mamma dust bunnies. This was perhaps the one and only time in my life that I did not find bunnies to be cute. Then I went to the barbeque at my house with all my lovely friends and ate more burgers than I feel comfortable divulging on the interwebs and laughed and talked. We went to Libe Slope to listen to the concert, but I’m not going to lie: every year, I only walk down there for the frozen yogurt pops. This year they had TWO flavors, guys! Blueberry and pomegranate, mmmmmm.  The concerts are never really to my liking, but this year was particularly bad.

I have no idea who “Hoodie Allen” or “Kendrick Lamar” are, but all I can tell you is that they are chauvinist pigs and if it had been any other day but a beautiful early May day where I was surrounded by those that I love and cherish, I would have called for the stirrups in order to get on my feminist high horse. No, I am not interested in shaking my “f**king booty” on stage, and whether I have “big boobies” or not is none of your business. I ignored the music and talked to my friends instead.

Anyways, I could go into a very long and slightly heated analysis of why people such as the so-called “artists” at Slope Day feed into our culture of objectification and superficiality, but you know what? Despite that, I am happy-sad. Happy-sad is actually, in my opinion, a lovely emotion; you get the best of both worlds, as you are smiling and yet slightly nostalgic. I’m happy that the semester is over: who isn’t? But I am also sad that my time at Cornell is coming so rapidly to an end. Every semester seems to be going by faster than the last one, and sometimes I wish I could stretch out the hours and days and hold on to them.

I’m sad that my senior friends are leaving. I’m sad that Violet will be off in London next semester. And I’m actually rather sad that my classes are over. This semester has been so important for me: as a student, as a friend, as a human.

But enough. I am happy for the warm weather, the company of good friends, the ability to lock myself in my room and write, the opportunity to go to Rome (AAAAHHHHH, SO EXCITED!!!!), the return home to my family. Rather than an end, I would like to think of this time as a continuation in growing and learning.

And with that, I shall leave you. Staying up until 3:00 am watching The Hunger Games is surprisingly exhausting. I hope everyone had a happy Slope Day!

Hi guys! Wow, two posts in a week, huh? Looks like I’m finally earning my keep!

Classes are almost over (ONE MORE DAY WHAT WHAAAAAT?!) and so I have a bit more time on my hands, but I shall soon be swamped with paper writing. And what better way to procrastinate writing about oppression, sexuality and gender in Coleridge’s “Christabel” than writing about my super exciting life?!

Actually, today was very exciting! In fact, today is very exciting all over the world except in the U.S., because May Day in basically every other country other than good old ‘Merica is also either an excuse to festoon everything and everyone with flowers or is also known as International Worker’s Day. When I lived in France with my family, the first of May was a national holiday, with the occasional strike (but let’s face it, the French don’t really need permission to strike, amirite? Heehee.) But for many others, May 1st commemorates the 1886 Haymarket affair in Chicago, when workers protesting for an 8-hour work day were murdered by the police. As always, you can read about it more here, if you would like. So today, my comrades and I took to the streets to protest not only the impending changes to the permit regulations on campus, or the ongoing discussion (which, in my opinion should stop being a discussion and start being a reality!) in Tompkins County about making minimum wage a living wage, but also oppression and injustice everywhere. From the horrific, inhumane treatment of Bengali garment workers to the suffering of Palestinians in the Occupied Territories, we came together today to protest all oppression, because all oppression is one oppression.

OK. I’m a bit nervous now that I’ve said all this. Partly because it inevitably reveals my very left-leaning politics. But that’s not really what I’m nervous about.

I’m going to put this out there: I don’t really enjoy politics. I know some people who really enjoy fighting the good fight and sticking it to the man, but me? Honestly, I just want to make myself a pair of lace mitts for the fall. And possibly a sweater. And then I would curl up with a good novel and snooze in the shade of my backyard.

So then, why am I involved in campus activism? Why did I feel compelled to walk all the way downtown shouting slogans about workers rights, and getting in the way of traffic, including one very impatient car-ful of police officers? (I even stopped to pick flowers for my hair, because I couldn’t resist the poetry inherent in the action of creating beauty in the face of oppression. I think the police officers did not feel the same way.) Why do I spend so much of my time and energy on something that I just claimed not to really enjoy?

I think Samuel Taylor Coleridge put it best: Sentiment is not Benevolence. Even if I wanted to, I can’t close my eyes to the world. Having roots in Bangladesh means that I have had many glimpses into poverty, injustice and cruelty. I have seen children digging through garbage for their next meal. I have seen old men, their eyes bloodshot and milky with disease, begging for what would be the American equivalent of a few cents. It is heart-wrenching. And the worst part? It happens all over the world every single day. It is most of humanity’s daily existence. And most people will do nothing about it.

So I could knit those mitts and that sweater and read that novel and feel horribly guilty for doing nothing. Or I could put those things aside and stand up for those who cannot do it for themselves. I can try to create a world where these people at least have a patch of land to stand on and shout their message loud and clear to the world. I can at least do that much, even though I cry when I read the news from the Middle East, when I see the numbers and the names of the dead and wonder what the hell am I doing at an Ivy League when I should be doing something to stop this, all of it. I organize and I raise my voice of dissent and I write because even though sometimes I wish I could, I know I cannot do otherwise. I have no other choice but to be involved, to be engaged, even though the emotional cost is sometimes unbearable.

But that is it to say that I have to bear it alone. My activism on campus has made me some pretty wonderful friends, without whom my time at Cornell would not be the same. So after we had walked all the way downtown and after we had made our demands, we came together at Shaun Greenwood Park. Antonio Gramsci made pasta, as usual. Patrick impressed us with his vast knowledge of leftist history. G. Mortimer Halfspoon made his usual jokes (“What do we want?” “ICE CREAM!” “When do we want it?” “NOW!”) and Monseigneur Emanuel looked on and tried not to smile. (I know most people won’t get the last reference…think Mr. Rochester, but more academic. And not as handsome as Timothy Dalton and Michael Fassbender make him out to be. I apologize to Monsieur Emanuel in advance.) Aisha listened to me rant about meeting Tamora Pierce (something I will definitely blog about once it happens!!). And we sat in the sun and talked. And spring surrounded us with its flowers and gentle breeze, and even though we didn’t save the world, I am perfectly content.

Good night, world. As Arundhati Roy once said, “Another world is not only possible, she is on her way. On a quiet day, I can hear her breathing.”

Hi guys! Guess what? I found a robin egg today!!! It was simultaneously sad and really beautiful; as I don’t think any little birdies will be popping out of their shells anytime soon, this poor egg must have fallen from the nest. But the eggshells are the most beautiful shade of blue, and I’ve never seen a robin’s egg before, so it was quite exciting for me.

So now that I’ve bragged about something that wasn’t even my doing, I am going to fill you in a bit on what’s been happening with me over the past couple weeks.

Every college student dreams of seeing the college professor in his/her natural habitat. What does their house look like? Is it covered by a thick carpet of papers waiting to be marked up in red? Are there books from floor to ceiling? And most importantly, is there free food involved?

The answers were, in short, no, yes and hellz yes, but allow me to elaborate. My friend the Balrog (you can also call her Jason Bourne, because that’s how badass she is, heehee) invited me to a party at Professor Tom Hill’s house, and the offer was just too good to pass up!

I took Scottish Literature with Professor Hill last semester and loved it. For those of you who have not had the delight of meeting Prof. Hill, let me assure you that he is the most adorable medievalist you will ever meet; his enthusiasm for Buffy is endearing and his knowledge of Scottish ballads is extensive to say the least. The Balrog and I made our way through the thick fog aaaaall the way to Dryden where Professor Hill lives. When we arrived at his driveway, I was pretty sure I had arrived at the land of the Faeries. Which may sound nice, until you read enough Scottish ballads. That’s when you discover that Faerie is a freaking scary place. Needless to say I clung to my darling Balrog’s arm as we made our way up the driveway.

Fortunately, we found ourselves not in the clutches of the domineering and dangerously cunning Faerie Queene, but rather in the cozy, cluttered basement of Professor Hill’s house. We had quite a bit of fun hanging out and listening to Professor Hill’s famous jokes, but the best part?

THE LIBRARY.

SWEET COCOA PUFFS. THIS LIBRARY.

I would be lying if I didn’t say that my friends and I spent the majority of our time in the library, not socializing and browsing this treasure trove of sci-fi and medieval stuffs. IT. WAS. AWESOME.

Well, I had better get some sleep…the next couple days will be grueling to say the least. But I am breathing, I am in good health, and most importantly, I now know what I want my library to look like when I have my own house. I hope everyone is enjoying the springtime! I shall leave you with more pictures of springiness, yaaaaay!

So I just realized that it’s been three weeks since I’ve posted. Hehe. I’m sorry? But I hope it will make you feel more valued, lovely reader, if I inform you that I have been doing something magical and wonderful with the time that I’ve been away.

I am pleased to inform you that I have been enjoying spring.

To those of you that reside in warmer climes, or are just not one for sitting out in the sun reading Keats, this might seem to be the epitome of all cop-outs. I can only say that we will have to agree to disagree.

As my fellow Cornellians will be quick to tell you, winter here is, in a word, miserable. Oh sure, you’ll love the snow when it first falls lightly down from the heavens and covers everything in white crystals and allows you to make highly inappropriately shaped snow sculptures (poor Clara Dickson residents. Considering the dorm is nicknamed “the Big Dick,” it shouldn’t take a lot of imagination to figure out what male body part is erected at the front of the building. Every. Single. Winter.). But once the snow begins to melt and turn a sickly grey, and is then covered up by two feet of snow that you then have to trudge through to get to class, the green grass and the blue sky seem like a faraway dream.

And so, when spring comes, Cornellians awake. Couples come out of the woodworks, sitting together on the Arts Quad. Large groups of friends play frisbee. Someone brings out a boom box and begins to play salsa music and others begin to dance.

In my opinion, there is no more wonderful time of the year than spring. And considering how much work I have to to, I am making enjoyment of the delicious weather my top priority.

Speaking of work, I have an Arabic test tomorrow (wish me luck, yeah?), so I had better go and start calming myself down. I hope I don’t wake up in the middle of the night, freaking out because I can’t remember the word for “candidate” or “revolution.” Ah, who am I kidding? I most definitely will. But at least once it’s over, I can sit on the lawn in front of the HOB and smell the daffodils.

And now it’s picture time!!!! Enjoy the warmth, people!

 

 

Mondays are the worst. I mean, normally Mondays aren’t so bad: I only have Arabic and Theory and Method in Near Eastern Studies, so I’m done by noon and have the rest of the day to myself. But today I had two rather important meetings, a dinner to cook and homework to do, and I have a throbbing headache and I am tired. And because I tend to make sweeping generalizations when I am grumpy and head-achy and sleepy, I hereby declare Mondays as the worst.

Naaah, things really aren’t that bad! I had a lovely weekend at home, and have decided that if my plans to become a radical activist/novelist for empowered teenage girls fall through, I will join Celtic Woman and tour the world.

I could go on and on about the concert and the delicious sensory overload therein, but I would like to take on a slightly more serious tone today. I’m sure that some Cornellians are sick of hearing about this topic, but that doesn’t make it any less important or relevant. That’s right. I would like to talk about mental health.

I know that in a previous post I mentioned some of the ways that I destress, but it can be confusing and frankly, kind of scary, when those techniques stop working for you. In fact, everything stops working for you. School seems overwhelmingly hard, friends don’t seem to have enough time for you and no matter what, you feel like you’re carrying a millstone around your neck, and it’s slowly suffocating all the joy out of your life.

I hope this doesn’t sound familiar to anyone. But unfortunately, the statistics are against me. According to the Cornell Minds Matter website, 40% of Cornell students were unable to cope mentally at least once during the last year. And of course, those are just the people who admit to overwhelming thoughts and feelings. Even with my conservative estimate, I’m pretty sure that more than half of Cornellians have experienced periods of depression, anxiety, or both.

Why am I bringing this up, you might be wondering? Cornell is known to be a pressure cooker; don’t these statistics just make the school look worse? Besides, who wants to talk about anxiety and depression? It’s uncomfortable enough to go through those periods of dread and despair (and I promise you, that right there is a significant understatement): Why on earth would we want to talk about it?

I’m going to be honest with you: I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t want to think about the times I’ve spent crying on my bed or sleeping in the middle of the day because it was better than staying awake and having to deal with the constant weight of worry that seemed to crush my chest. I don’t want to think about the sleepless nights where I woke up at 4 am and felt like the last place in the world I wanted to be was here. I don’t like thinking about the fog created by the unease and the fatigue that made it difficult for me to function, let alone enjoy myself. I don’t like thinking about the fact that I still sometimes struggle with my anxiety.

But here I am, thinking and writing and talking about it. Because I’ve come to the realization that the worst thing about depression and anxiety, besides the awful, horrible thoughts and feelings that come along with it, is the silence it imposes. And I refuse to comply to that silence any longer.

I know I mentioned  my rather horrendous semester fall of my sophomore year in an earlier post, but I omitted the fact that the events of that semester–the extreme academic pressure, the forced social isolation–contributed greatly to my problems with anxiety in the spring semester and in the semesters to follow. Notice I say “contributed greatly.” I would never say that Cornell caused my anxiety problems or that the environment here makes everyone into a melting mess of emotions. Perhaps this seems contradictory. If so, let me explain.

For those of you who know me, it will come as no surprise that I am very very VERY good at worrying. If worrying was a hobby, I would put it at the top of my list of things I do in my free time. If worrying was a paid job, I’d be a multimillionaire by now. I like achieving, I like doing well, and I do not like to compromise. Ever.

What I’m trying to say is that because of my personality, I was already predisposed to very high levels of stress. I look back at my high school self and wonder how I ever could have functioned in the way that I did. I was always preoccupied: with college plans, with extracurriculars, with schoolwork. Even my music became a chore rather than a chance to enjoy creating something beautiful. Add to that limited social contact and overwhelming amounts of work and you have a recipe for disaster.

My family health history doesn’t do me any favors either. As has been demonstrated in many studies, some people are more genetically predisposed to mental health issues than others. Without going into any details, let’s just say that I got the short end of the stick in that particular department. (Actually, Netflix has an excellent documentary on the science behind anxiety and depression called “This Emotional Life”. I can’t link it to you, but here are some clips for free, yaaaaay!)

Anyways, all of the academic pressure, the self-inflicted pressure and my weird-ass chemical make-up made for a pretty miserable first few weeks of spring semester sophomore year. I finally opened up to my counselor, my family and my friends about the amount of anxiety I was feeling on a daily basis, and with increased therapy sessions and medication, I have been steadily coming closer to finding peace within myself. (Sorry for sounding all New-Agey, but for me, mindfulness and meditation have been saving graces!)

To wrap it up, I would like my take-away message to be this: I don’t think it’s worth the pain and the suffering to keep silent about mental health issues. When I at long-last told my friends and family about what I was feeling, I was surprised and really touched at the concern and support they offered me. Long talk sessions, hugs, comfort food, social distractions–all of these wonderful things were essential in my quest to find contentment again. But the longer you wait to speak out, the longer the road to betterment and fulfillment.

So if you feel like your world is collapsing under the pressure of academics and friends and family, especially at this time of the semester: Know you are not alone. Tell a friend or family member, talk to a counselor–you never have to suffer alone. And if your friend is exhibiting signs of anxiety or depression, pluck up the courage to start the conversation. It won’t be easy. But the rewards to be reaped are incredible.

Hello, lovely reader. Guess what? It’s Friday!! And I am heading home this weekend to spend some time with my little sister and my family before my weekends become crazy busy and I won’t have the luxury of weekends away.

So, as the title of this post suggests, I went to party last night! No, it wasn’t a wild, crazy party, and no, 2013 isn’t quite over yet. Yesterday evening, I celebrated Persian New Year’s!

Norooz, or Persian New Year’s, is an Iranian holiday that, according to that illustrious site named Wikipedia, lasts for thirteen days and dates back to the second century AD. It was originally a Zoroastrian holiday that marked the vernal equinox. Here is the article I’m referring to, if you’re interested!

Tulip and I made our way to Willard Straight Hall around about eight pm, talking about our futures and getting pretty pumped for delectable Iranian food (that we did not have to cook! Which, when you are cooking for yourself, is always a bonus.) The Willard Straight Memorial Room was the fullest I’d ever seen it, and all the tables were covered in bright red tablecloths and–more importantly–bowls of fruit and chocolate. They were just beginning to serve the food as we arrived, which was a relief, because Tulip and I did NOT want to miss it! (Do you get the sense that I’m in it for the food? Because if you do, I have done my job well, heehee.)

Anyways, Tulip and I grabbed some food and sat as far away from the throbbing speakers as we could (the music was quite happenin’ and all, but it made it difficult to talk). We met up with other friends quite by coincidence and had a nice time catching up after a busy first week back–my friend Patrick told me all about his ideas for a novel set in the Middle East and Violet and I discussed her idea for a skit about the trials and tribulations of a printer. There was also live music, which I love, anytime and anywhere! Someone played an Iranian lute, which the lovely internet tells me is called a tar, and there was a duo playing a harp-type thing, but more like a lap harp than anything else. I can’t find it online, so you all will just have to deal with the mystery.

Or better yet, go to the next Norooz celebration on campus! It was low-key and fun, and the food was pretty tasty (saffron rice! And stuffed grape leaves!! AND DID I MENTION THERE WAS CHOBANI YOGURT???!!). Anyways, I think my Thursday evening was well spent, but now I must depart for choir rehearsal. Happy Norooz and happy Friday to you all!

So today is the first day back to class after spring break. Notice the lack of an exclamation point at the end of this sentence. I put exclamation points at the end of everything; if I didn’t have such a refined sense of internet etiquette, my Facebook posts would look like this:

“JUST ATE AN ENTIRE BLOCK OF CHEESE!!!!!!!”

“I AM SO HAPPY THE SUN IS OUT!!!!!!”

“A BIRD JUST FLEW INTO MY WINDOW AND NOW IT SHALL BE MY PET!!!!!”

Like every other college student, I am immensely disappointed that spring break is over. It’s not that I had any plans or anything. I spent the week at home, reading for my classes or watching period dramas. (Fyi, the 2008 BBC Sense and Sensibility is all right, but the dialogue is so explicit and sometimes cheesy that it takes all the fun out of interpreting Austen’s gentle satire. Just thought you should know.) Anyways, no grand schemes of mad adventure for me…but I like my family and I like home, and so consequently, I was sad to leave them.

But being back at school is not so bad! Especially since all my hard work during break has paid off so far and I actually seem to be in pretty good shape for the remainder of the semester. I can’t believe we only have a month and a half left! I’m sure by the time finals come around, I will be ready for it all to be over, but in the meantime, I am content with my lot in life.

Like I said, nothing vastly interesting has been occurring in my life…I sent off my passport photocopy to Rome today, and am that much closer to my creative writing adventures in Italy!!!! And speaking of writing…you will never guess who Facebook friended me, and wrote on my wall.

TAMORA PIERCE.

TAMORA. FRIGGIN’. PIERCE.

For those of you who don’t know who Tamora Pierce is, she is probably best known for her Song of the Lioness books, featuring a fiery redheaded girl named Alanna who wants to be a knight. Admittedly, most of my lovely readers are probably too old for her books…but also admittedly, I still re-read them whenever I have a chance.

Well, I think that’s quite enough excitement for one day. Also, formatting that printscreen was HARD. I’m off to shower and go to bed! But expect more regular updates from me from here on out, and happy spring to you all!!!

Dear John Green,

Um, hi! How are you? It’s kind of weird asking you that question; it makes me feel like I know you when in reality, I only ever see your face sandwiched between a glass screen and the hardback of my laptop. And even that interaction hasn’t been happening very regularly. I hope you forgive me…as a college student I have a limited amount of time. Or as Peter Van Houten would put it, my infinity is relatively smaller than the infinity of, say, an alcoholic ex-writer who listens to Swedish rap and wears pajamas all day. (I am, of course, referring to the aforesaid Van Houten and NOT you.)

Perhaps I shouldn’t diss poor old Peter at this time, as I am in the process of acquiring some of the same habits during my spring break. As to which habits I am referring to, I will leave that up to your discretion; and besides, my cat-and-dog pajamas have very little to do with the objective of this letter.

So what is the objective of this letter? I was planning to get there organically, hoping that the universe would drop some witty epithets in my gracious lap. After all, it seems to happen to Hazel and Augustus all the time. But I suppose that is not my fate.

I have this urge to thank you for creating someone as smart and brave and funny as Hazel, someone as hilariously pretentious and caring as Augustus. But for some reason, I feel like that would be wrong. I hope this assertion doesn’t “attack the very idea that made-up stories can matter,” as you put it in your author’s note. As an aspiring writer, my hopes and dreams are built on the continuing belief in the mattering-ness of made-up stories. I myself place a lot of faith in fiction, sometimes much more faith than I do in the news or on my textbooks for class.

So for me, Hazel and Augustus are much more than figments of your imagination. I don’t think they’re real either; I don’t see Hazel running around Indianapolis with her Ceci n’est pas un pipe t-shirt and jeans. But her willingness to love even when love seems so painful and fraught–in fact, all the characters’ willingness to love despite the finite infinity of life–is very real, even though I sometimes forget.

As someone whose eyes are being reluctantly opened to the aspects of the world that I wish I could fix single-handedly, I sometimes want to close my eyes again. To crawl back into my world pre-college–where I didn’t read the news, was not faced with hard personal and academic decisions, did not actively have to figure out my values and principles–sometimes sounds like the most wondrous thing in the world.

And then I read a book like yours and I remember that if I close my eyes, I’ll be missing all the pain, fear, anger…and all the love. Whether it’s Hazel’s parents surrounding her with affection and support, or Augustus’ last act for Hazel, The Fault in Our Stars overflows with love.

So thank you for reminding me what it means to be human, I suppose. I like my choices just fine.

Hi everyone! Thank you so much for being patient during my busy week. Between my Arabic test and normal homework, I really haven’t had much time for anything fun…and then there was a whole situation with one of my clubs that became rather fraught and took up the rest of my energy. I might decide to tell you about that sometime later, although I made a promise to myself to keep this blog free of my (VERY radical) politics…but it really is another story for another time!

What with all the schoolwork, political wrangling, music-making, and socializing, it can sometimes be very difficult to catch my breath. I know for a fact that I am not the only one who is grateful for spring break! But even though only a few days stand between me and freedom, it can be hard to keep my stress levels down.

In the interest of full disclosure, I tend to stress out slightly more than the average person. I like things to be PERFECT, or as close to perfect as they are going to get. I’ve been trying to learn how to accept the few things in my life that are imperfect and enjoy the many things in my life that are just right, and here is my advice to you, dear reader: stress reduction is most definitely a process. No matter how calm and rational you think you are, there are going to be times in your life when you want to tear your hair out and bite everyone’s heads off. SIMULTANEOUSLY. (I would put a picture here, but I just freaked myself out a little bit at the thought of Googling that. Plus, you are all pretty intelligent. I’m sure you get the idea.) However, that is not to say that there aren’t things that you can do to take care of yourself during prelim season!

1) Know yourself. This seems like a tall order, I know, but it’s worth trying to figure out. I am of the school of thought that human beings are highly complex, and it is only ever possible to know pieces of oneself, let alone another person. But regardless of if you’re someone who is new to college and a bit overwhelmed with all the new-ness–friends, classes, professors–or if you are a seasoned Cornell veteran, it might be worth figuring out what you like to do to relax and unwind. Are you the type of person who is recharged after spending time with friends, or do you need some time to yourself before you can really have fun with others? Do you prefer a good book and a cup of tea after a long week, or do you need to let your hair down at a party or a concert? Perhaps the hardest question is this: is the cause of your stress worth it? Are you working hard because you value hard work in the pursuit of knowledge, or are the thoughts of bad grades and disappointed parents digging you into a hole? I know that sometimes, I become so worked up, I can’t even begin to untangle the cause of my emotions; sitting myself down for five minutes and working through things in my head sometimes helps to lift the fog of dread and worry. Long story short, a little bit of self-inquiry and introspection can sometimes be crucial during stressful times.

2) Communicate. Remember what I said about sometimes wanting to tear my own hair out and bite my friends’ heads off? Well, the key to NOT giving in to those urges is above! If you’re having a stressful day or week, sometimes talking it out with a friend or family member can work wonders. On the other hand, if you need to lock yourself in your room and write that paper, by all means, go ahead…but it doesn’t hurt to explain to your loved ones that you are simply having a stressful academic week, rather than snapping at them when they ask you why you look so tired. You’ll be surprised as to what happens when you’re honest with your feelings; more often than not, your friends and family will pitch in and help you when you need it. I know there have been weeks where my mom has been wonderful and has made entire dinners for me, where my friends have sent me text messages during the day to remind me that there is in fact light at the end of the tunnel that is my 12-page paper. But the only way people can help you out is if you ask for help. So talk to your friends and family, yo! Especially during stressful weeks.

3) Move around. This particular nugget of wisdom took me a long time to learn. I am not by any means what one would call athletic. I don’t particularly enjoy being in physical pain or sweating or wearing gym clothes. But I’ve gotten to the point that I love going to the gym, and I miss my workout routine when I have to skip because of a meeting or some other commitment. Why? Well, because of the little endorphins released during exercise, problems that seemed like the end of the world before a 45-minute run seem much less urgent afterwards. I have often been frustrated with a concept while studying only to come back from the gym and not only understand what I’m reading but also enjoy the studying process. Gym memberships at Cornell are pricy, but I see it as an investment in my physical and mental well-being. And if the gym is not your thing, Cornell is a beautiful campus for running or power-walking! There are also plenty of free yoga classes and the like, if you look for them. Heck, sometimes even putting some loud music on and dancing around your room can be enough to help you out of a stress-induced funk!

4) Take breaks. I know that sometimes, you don’t really have a choice but to hole yourself up in your room and just write that damn paper, but even then, I find it helpful to take a fifteen minute break every two hours or so. Breaks are especially important for me if I’m feeling rather uninspired; sometimes reading a good book or knitting a couple rows will allow my mind to relax enough to think about something else besides how much I hate Sir Walter Scott and his stupid non-characters. Short bursts of enjoyable activities can be just the thing to get you through long periods of studying or writing, especially during finals. I tend not to watch TV during these breaks because I am waaaay too easily sucked in, but I always keep a few good novels on hand for those weeks that seem like one long nightmarish test of wills. Knitting is super relaxing for me as well; I know for other people, creative hobbies like drawing or writing are very soothing as well. Find something relaxing that you like to do, and sprinkle it in with all your work!

5) Deep breaths. You’ve probably heard this one before, and I will completely forgive you if you think it’s stupid. I used to think it was the biggest cop-out ever when people would tell me to breathe. Obviously, I must be breathing if I’m talking to you, dumb-butt! But I’ve been getting into meditation and paying attention to my breath, and sometimes when I’m horribly nervous, I tend to either breathe very quickly or just hold my breath. Taking a couple of deep breaths can sometimes help when your mind is panicking and you don’t know which way to turn.

6) Music. I know not everyone plays an instrument, but for me, fluting and singing are pretty great stress-busters. They require a lot of my focus and concentration, so playing the flute or singing allow me to stop worrying about academics for a little while and just enjoy making music! Listening to music helps as well; I like to put some quiet music on when I have a lot of reading to do and not that much time to do it in. Not to get all philosophical, but I think good music reminds me of the beauty in the world, especially when my world looks like one ginormous prelim!

7) Organization. Keeping a planner makes my life so so much easier. Instead of worrying about missed appointments or nebulous homework assignments, all I have to do is look in my trusty agenda! On particularly packed weeks, I will make myself a to-do list for each day of the week. I’m not going to lie: the satisfaction of checking stuff off is pretty great. Keeping all my papers for one class in one binder or folder makes it so that I don’t need to hunt through paper piles to get what I need. I have an electronic folder for each class so that I can save papers and the like directly in them. And even though it’s not always possible, I like to give myself at least a week to study for a test or write a paper; that way I can do it in little bits instead of pulling an all-nighter.

8) Take things one at a time. This might not be the best strategy for everyone, but I personally find it very hard to concentrate on more than one thing at a time. Especially during finals, it terrifies me to see the long list of things I have to do before vacation. Even though I know it’s not true, my scumbag brain convinces me that it must all be done at once, right now, or else the stuff will hit the fan. So I ignore those thoughts, and concentrate on writing one paper, finishing it, turning it in, and starting the next item on my list. Again, this isn’t always possible, as sometimes I will have things due on the same day. But even then, I make sure to prioritize and to not let myself snowball into a pit of panic and despair.

9) Perspective. This strategy was the hardest to learn for me, and in many ways, I think I’m still learning it. I used to be so focused on the grade and impressing my professors that I would often forget why I was here: to learn and to enjoy learning. Fall semester sophomore year, I decided it would be a good idea to take 22 credits. Yeah. I know. I spent much of the semester trying to avoid the mountains of assigned reading, then the guilt that came with not doing the reading, then the anger about the guilt about not doing the reading…long story short, my GPA had never been higher, and my contentment with my life at college had never been lower. When you feel like you just can’t do any more, remember: It’s just a test. It’s just a paper. There is no such thing as “the” test or “the” paper; these assessments are a chance to review what you’ve learned, not a matter of life or death. It’s OK to take a break. It’s OK to ask for help. If it’s Wednesday afternoon and you have a paper due Friday that makes absolutely no sense to you, have a friend read it over or go to office hours and talk it out with a professor. If a deadline is causing you to have nightmares, talk to your professor or ask for an extension. There are always options to curling up in a ball and crying, I promise!

10) Celebrate!! All things must come to an end, even prelim season. I know it doesn’t seem like it when you’re being swept away by a hurricane and there’s a dog named Toto nipping at your heels. Sometimes, I wish I could click my ruby heels and leave all this reading and studying far behind. But when you find yourself with a relatively light workload, treat yourself! Go see a movie or a concert, hang out with friends, catch up on sleep or TV…take advantage of downtime and enjoy your life!

I hope this has been interesting, if not helpful. I know that not everything I listed will be universally applicable, but I thought I would share my coping strategies. What are your strategies for powering through a stressful week? I would love to read about them in the comments!

Hi everyone! So like I said, this weekend is super busy for me…I’m holed away in my room, hoping against hope that my friends don’t realize that I’m reading Northanger Abbey instead of hanging out with them (shhhhhh, it’s our little secret, right?). I probably will go downstairs soon, as there is CARROT CAKE waiting for me (!!!!), but I thought I would post a quick update.

This weekend was the second weekend of Violet’s play, and as I did not get to see her last week, I bought my ticket and trekked down to the Schwartz with my other friends. A People was not my favorite play I’ve seen since being at Cornell (Our Town is pretty hard to beat, to be fair…), but the cast was fantastic, and there were definitely some touching moments. It very much focused on the Jewish experience, which I wasn’t really able to relate to, but I loved the scene about the origins of prayer and how it is meant to bring people together and enforce the feeling of community.

Today was spent mostly procrastinating, studying, then procrastinating some more, but I got some good work done, so I decided to make carrot cake! The Free Elf was very helpful, and she even let me try some of her Christmas pudding, which was surprisingly delicious!

OK. Now I must depart. But I shall leave you with pictures!!!!

 

Until next time, lovely reader. Sleep well!