Author: Susan

On Shamrock Shakes

Thoughts

So I started writing a post about Shamrock Shakes because I had my first one of the season today, and promptly deleted it deciding that it was too trivial of a topic (it’s pretty late, so my brain is woozy). However, as soon as I deleted my post, someone I was chatting with online uttered these unforgivable words:

Y: hahahaha what is a shamrock shake

Y: is it that thing at shakeshack

…And so the decision was made that this entry was necessary. I mean, does the topic of “Shamrock Shakes” seem arbitrary and trivial compared to some of my other blog posts? Totally. But do I love Shamrock Shakes enough to dedicate an entire blog post to them? Also totally. So here we have it: a post dedicated to the minty, bright-green shake offered at McD’s come every Feb/March (not Shake Shack. It’s okay, baby steps).

After the long gloom of winter, during which we are blessed only sporadically with glimpses of sunlight, everything around us starts looking kind of gray. The sky is gray, the roads are gray, the snow is gray, dirty, and disgusting – you get the picture. But there is light at the end of the tunnel: the Shamrock Shake inevitably returns at the end of every winter, right in time for Saint Patrick’s Day (hence the name). This burst of bright green is a reminder that a color other than gray exists in this world, that there is hope for renewed plant life again and all is not lost under the perpetual ice/snow/slush of winter.

The Shamrock Shake is primarily composed of sugar, cream, and some kind of bright green food coloring that probably contains cancerous chemicals. Most things composed of sugar and cream end up tasting…well, really good (unless you have a really healthy diet and taste, in which case I commend you). It’s rich, creamy, and smooth, but what makes it unique is the hint of mint that is swirled into this mysterious green drink. Every sip contains a mouthful of deliciousness, way too many calories, and maybe some sort of luck, seeing as it’s a St. Patty’s Day drink. You might be thinking, “Why would I want to go buy this drink if it sounds like it’s made out of ingredients that aren’t healthy for me?”

The answer is because the Shamrock Shake is freaking delicious. It’s alluring and addicting just by itself, with its crisp minty milkshake self topped with whipped cream and a cherry. But it’s also one of those drinks that tastes good with everything else on the McDonald’s menu (not that I’ve tried them all, but I’m just that confident), especially with french fries. Its appearance is green and you know it’s minty, which allows you to manufacture a fallacy that because there are leaves in it (or at least the taste of mint), it might be kind of healthy. In all semi-seriousness, there’s just some magical element in this drink that makes it a must-have every February-March holiday season. Need to celebrate Valentine’s Day? Shamrock Shake date. President’s Day? Toast old George and Abe with a Shamrock Shake. The Shamrock Shake’s limited availability each year makes it all the more exciting – it’s now or never until next year, and once it gets taken off the shelves late March, it’s gone.

After Shamrock Shakes disappear off the McD’s menu, life is back to normal…until the next February rolls around. All I’m saying is that I’m glad I can always count on the Shamrock Shake to bring me out of my winter gloom.

NOTE: I may or may not have abused my RA privileges in college and literally emailed the dorm a one-liner that said, “SHAMROCK SHAKES ARE BACK!” (complete with Emoji, obviously), so this is really just an extension of what I personally considered a PSA.

On Heartbreak

Thoughts

“The world will break your heart ten ways to Sunday. That’s guaranteed. I can’t begin to explain that. Or the craziness inside myself and everyone else. ” -Pat Solitano (aka Bradley Cooper), Silver Linings Playbook

The Sochi 2014 Winter O’s are finally underway. I think the Olympics are beautiful: I love seeing athletes come together to march with their nations, each so proud to represent what, to him, is “home.” I also love the Olympics because of the raw emotion we get to see on these athletes’ faces; for just a moment, a fleeting moment, we are privy to someone else’s feelings (although, in this day and age, the “fleeting moment” really turns into an “never-ending meme”).

In some cases, the emotion we get to see is elation. Joy, pride, tears of excitement – we see champions, we see heroes; we see people who have worked so hard to achieve their goals during one glorious moment. But in others, we see heartbreak: years of training ending in an injury. A mistake, a fall, a slip here or there – these too are the raw emotions on display. These are the tears of disappointment, of frustration, of heartbreak.

Getting your heart broken sucks. It sucks to go through it; it sucks to fight through it; it sucks to feel that physical ache in your heart. And it’s scary how fragile the human heart really is, how the world can just get to you and break your heart “ten ways to Sunday.”

In the past few weeks, I’ve heard news of tragedy from my alma mater more times than I – or anyone, for that matter – would ever want to hear. A college sophomore’s death last week marked the second suicide at Penn in just a short three weeks, and the fourth death at the school since December. Even being a year and a half out of college hasn’t made me feel far enough removed from this: my heart broke when I learned the news. It broke for the lives that are lost; it broke for the loved ones who are left to cope, to fight through their worst nightmares. If a stranger like me can feel heartbroken about those who have perished, how infinitely much more must those family and friends ache? I remember how it felt to lose someone that I loved; I remember all too well how much it hurt and how much I cried; I remember how much my heart broke for a life lost too soon, potential “could-be’s” that became “never-would-be’s.”

But I also remember how beautiful that time was. There was beauty in the heartbreak because there was beauty in the memory, but there’s more. I truly believe that, as heartbreak brings out the worst possible feeling within yourself, it brings out the most beautiful feeling from the world around you. It brings out community, it brings out support; it brings out what we call love, and that’s the beauty in heartbreak. In my immediate grief, I probably would’ve hated anyone that tried to tell me that, but it’s true. I see how the Penn community has come together; I see the words of love, of encouragement, of support that are exchanged between complete strangers in the wake of tragedy. Heartbreak comes in all sorts forms: a broken relationship reluctantly ending; a farewell to someone you don’t know when you’ll see again; a destructive disease that seems unstoppable; the list goes on and on. But through the pain of heartbreak rises a love whose strength we may never have realized. And it’s beautiful.

——————–

The winners in the Olympics get to stand on a podium in their glory: Gold, Silver, Bronze, plus a bouquet of flowers. They stand there beaming, and the whole stadium around them cheers on. Somewhere in the crowd – or maybe the locker room, or somewhere else – there are those who didn’t make it up to the podium. But I like to imagine that in the midst of the dashed Olympic dream, in the midst of the heartbreak, there is something beautiful: a cheering community, a support system, and arms of encouraging love.

Here’s how that quote from the beginning of this blog post ends:

“But guess what? Sunday’s my favorite day again. I think of what everyone did for me, and I feel like a very lucky guy.”

On Superiority

Thoughts

I was told that writing in all lowercase makes the writing too hard to read. I don’t know how true that is, but it certainly doesn’t hurt to start using normal grammar, so I guess I’ll start writing like a real adult now.

Moving on, I’ve been dwelling a lot on something my dad said last week. I was frustrated about something and venting to my parents. As I ranted about how I would never do this, how I was better than this, my dad came on the phone and said: “Susan. The moment you start thinking that you are better than other people, everything will start becoming more difficult.”

Usually, when my dad says stuff to me, I’m like “I KNOW,” and try to get him to leave me alone ASAP. But what he said this time really struck a chord with me. Growing up, I enjoyed feeling like I excelled. I let my head balloon up in high school – I thought to myself often that I had everything I could possibly want (except the boyfriend, an ever-elusive concept, and looks, which I’ve never been totally satisfied with). College became a huge reality check as I was surrounded, everywhere I looked, by people who excelled more than me by far. 

To be fair, it’s hard to define “excel” because it’s hard to define “success,” right? Everyone’s idea of success is totally different, although society sometimes insists that qualities like money, fame, or beauty are what make someone successful. But no matter how much I clung to the thought that maybe I was still special in some sort of way, I was humbled during college. Time after time, whether it was through grades, through auditions, through job applications – I was reminded that maybe I wasn’t so special after all.

It’s embarrassing to think about how self-centered I can be, but my dad’s right: the better that I think I am, the more difficult I make life for myself. The situation arises over and over again: career, friendships, events – everything around me can turn into a temptation to compare myself to others. I always say that I hate when people are arrogant and condescending, but what’s the difference between that and what goes on inside my own head?

Nothing, really.

It doesn’t matter if it’s voiced or not; it doesn’t even matter if I’m right or not – the moment that a tiny seed of superiority pops into my head, it all goes downhill. I make myself unhappy; I feel jealous, or wronged, or unsuccessful – all sorts of negative emotions, depending on the situation. The “happiness” I feel from thinking I’m superior is nothing compared to how terrible it feels when that mindset is broken, as it inevitably always will be. As they say, “Pride goeth before the fall” – and honestly, the fall sucks.

Thanks for the lesson, Dad. You still try to give me advice too much – but I’ll admit it, it’s probably worth listening to.

new year, new blog

Thoughts

happy chinese new year! i didn’t even know it was going to be the year of the horse, but i went to duane reade to shop for overpriced valentine’s day cards and saw, to my surprise, chinese new year cards with horses on them. maybe this means i’ll be lucky and/or prosperous this year. but as they say, we “make our own luck.” so here’s to working hard this year, to being dauntless and taking risks (can you tell i’ve been reading divergent?), to growing as best as i can into someone i’m proud to be.

it’s kind of weird starting a new blog, but xanga shut down a while back and forced me to move on from the blog of my pre-teen/teenage angst. that was probably good for me, because the overdramatic tendencies of my youth are pretty cringeworthy – so really, xanga did us all a favor. it feels like i’ve graduated to “grown-up” xanga by creating a wordpress blog. maybe one day i’ll start capitalizing the first letter of every word like an adult – but until then, laziness still prevails.

anyway, since this is my first blog post, i want to explain the meaning behind the title. the past year and a half in new york has been an interesting year and a half. as i explored and tried to navigate my way around a new city, i found myself getting wrapped up in life around me – the people, the job, the money, the activities – all things that are so ever-present and so in-my-face, all the time. it was quite easy to feel lost in it all, and i could feel myself going through the motions of day-to-day life, letting all the little things get to me – for better or for worse, they got to me either way. it wasn’t until i started taking the time to pause, to step away from it all, to have those two-to-three hour conversations with the best of my friends that i felt like i could truly remember what happiness meant to me. i’m ever so grateful to the best family and friends in the world for driving me to be my best, for encouraging me to pursue meaning instead of money, long-term joy instead of short-term satisfaction.

with that knowledge in mind, i’ve been on a constant quest to find out what it is that makes that makes life meaningful. so there it is: “seeking something splendid.” as soon as i knew i needed a blog title, i turned of course to my all-time favorite book, little women. i came across this little quote:

“I want to do something splendid before I go into my castle, something heroic or wonderful that won’t be forgotten after I’m dead. I don’t know what, but I’m on the watch for it, and mean to astonish you all some day.” (jo continues this quote by saying she wants to write books and get rich and famous, but we’re going to ignore that part for the purposes of this blog).

like jo, i don’t know what “something splendid” is. but i want to find out, and i want to work towards it. and it should be heroic, and wonderful, and not forgotten after i’m dead – not because it has to be some crazy, large-scale, martyrdom act, but because anything i seek is, i hope, ultimately rooted in the beauty that is helping others. (i also don’t know what her castle is, but i hope mine is something like being able to eat unlimited food without becoming unhealthy and also being surrounded by rainbows and pillow pets). for a long time, i waited for success to come to me, but i’ve realized that i don’t even know what success is. for now, though, i know that to help others is heroic, and it’s wonderful, and won’t be forgotten after i’m dead (unless everyone i get to help dies before me, which would be really quite weird).

so walk with me, learn with me. encourage me please – come with me on my journey of seeking something splendid!