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high above Cayuga's waters... [Aug. 16th, 2007|03:26 am]
Min-STAR
[mood |nostalgicnostalgic]
[music |Kerry's CD]

I've been putting this off for way to long. 34 weeks, according to livejournal, which has matured a lot since the first time I posted on December 11th. That was a day after my sister got into Cornell. Here I am, the morning I leave for Cornell myself. I don't know what to do with myself. I've finished all the necessary packing, just not all of the little things, like pictures and little gifts and such. I've said goodbye to nearly everyone and had my fair share of hysterics. Tonight when Matt came back to my house crying I really started to see how really really real this is. Fuck.


A lot has happened since my last entry, the one about getting into Cornell in December. Religion has happened and really fast. It's been this yo-yo effect since late-January. Love hasn't happened at all. High school happened and how. I really did finish with above a 4.0, which totally rocked, I finally settled in to which friends I love and while friends I will live without, and of course that courseload never stopped. Antioch was hell, but worth it in the end. Wizard of Oz was hell and ended up worse than it began, even though Tony and I rekindled. I read a lot this year and fell in love with literature even more. I watched a lot of movies, too. I graduated somewhere in there. I got a job tutoring asian kids this summer, which sounds magical but I can guarentee you it's impossible to teach Japanese boys named Tom that fly is NOT pronounced FRY.


It's insane that I won't be living here in Wayne for the next few months. I've sat at this very same computer named Sophie since freshman year, but I have a new desktop for college. I won't have my car named Adonis, but thankfully will have my blackberry named Snuffalufagus. I spent nearly everyday with Tony for the past two months and now I won't see him until September or October. It's just weird, but I know I'll make plenty of friends and I'll be happy, I'm just dying for some closure on the past several years of my life.


I desperately need sleep. Goodnight for the last time before college, Wayne NJ. Goodmorning, Ithaca NY.
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we are desirable... [Dec. 15th, 2006|12:28 am]
Min-STAR
[Current Location |Halfway to Ithaca]
[mood |ecstaticaccepted]
[music |Several Ways to Die Trying]

I wonder how one's life can so drastically change with one word and yet everything remains untouched. I saw the word "Congratulations" in bold at the top and I didn't understand what was going on. My eyes hurriedly scanned the screen for a word they understood and stopped; acceptance.

Acceptance? I wonder how things get achieved. How did I get here? Four years ago I didn't even know what Cornell was, let alone when it was founded, how many majors were in each of its seven colleges, or that I would be living there, not only for a six-week summer but for four years of something called an undergraduate education.

What is that? I wonder if I can immortalize my exact reaction. I wish I could encapsilate that exact moment when I recognized the "ept" that followed the double-c. Frozen. Silent. Fucking beautiful relief. I wish I could run downstairs again and nod at Sarah, who would then scream "HE GOT IN", only to find my mother drop the phone, with Katherine on the other end, and burst into tears. I wish I could hug them at the same time and jump and scream and cry like that. I have cried before in my life: when I got deferred from MIT, when I realized someone was truly dead, when I could acknowledge God's existance. Never, never have I cried so beautifully.

Why the tears? I wonder if I knew my wish could come true. That four years ago, when I first said "I wish to be accepted into Cornell the first time I apply at the beginning of my senior year of high school". I picked each word so carefully, making sure there could be no way my wish wouldn't come true; it was so specific. I think I knew. But now I have nothing else to wish for - my only wish over these past four years has now become my life.

How? I wonder what my life will look like in a year from now, sitting in some dorm room studying for my Microeconomics exam or something like that. I have worked these past few years. Hard. And now I have accomplished my perfect object, or so my profile says. Today, when I was crying, I felt that I was truly living.

How can this be happening to me? I wonder if everyone really knew like they said they did. Today is the only day I have ever accepted "I told you so"; they can "tell me so" all they want. I have never received so many phone calls, texts, IM, comments, anything. It was the same with everyone. Whether it was Sarah in my dining room, my sister in Ithaca, a close friend over the phone, or an acquaintance in Kohl's, everyone reacted the same: sheer elation. I have never felt so important in my life. Never.

Today I was alive.






I'm listening to that song you played when you told me you were accepted.
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...and relieve us our doubts. [Dec. 2nd, 2006|09:24 pm]
Min-STAR
I'd much rather be stressed, horny, and lonely in Ithaca than in Wayne.
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tears of relief and fear [Oct. 29th, 2006|10:50 pm]
Min-STAR
All my applications were submitted tonight.
I can't do anything else.
Fuck, I'm so scared.
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My first A paper in Leogrande's class [Sep. 28th, 2006|08:39 pm]
Min-STAR
And Sometimes Y and W



My name is Andrew and Andrew ends in a w. W is not able to warm its listener with a tender glide of an r or an l, or to shock its listener with a crisp bite of a t or a p, or to humble its listener with a tiny whisper of an f or a v. Andrew does not rhyme with anything, no matter how hard I try to make pandroo a word. This six-letter word that writes itself on name tags cannot even call itself different, an adjective my mother would often use to describe me: “You’re the one who eats strawberry ice cream merely because everyone else is eating chocolate”. Andrew is boring, awkward, and common, which all add up to a burden in my eyes.

I often wonder how my life would be (the opportunities I could have had, the options I would have chosen, the paths I should have taken) had I been named something different. Born with Michael, well, you can call me Mike and I would be a football star, catching every pass, scoring every touchdown, winning every game. Born with Tyler, well, you can call me Ty and I would be a surfer dude, catching all those rays, riding all those waves, getting all those girls. Born with Oliver, well, you can call me Oliver and I would be an intellect, catching each nuance, deriving each equation, analyzing each approach.

In my boredom with Andrew, I have begged my friends to give me nicknames, resulting in such mindless tags as Druuu (with three u’s), Min-star (from my last name Minster), and even Optimus Prime (yes, from the cartoon “Transformers”). These names, while not printed on my birth certificate and not what I’d want my parents to call me, were arrangements of letters that fit me more than Andrew could. They were creative, witty, smart, childish, and different, everything A-n-d-r-e-w cannot amount to.

Who am I? I wish I could respond with Olympic champion, or Prince Charming, or musical genius, or all-around best guy. Up until now, I have listed and described everything I am not. I am not a Renaissance man, I am not a robot car, and I am not perfect. Over time, I have learned that my name, while something to identify with, cannot measure my worth; I have grown to appreciate this six-letter word ending in that awkward w like I will grow to appreciate my lover’s taste in music. And even though Andrew defines me when introduced to someone, this name will not defy me.
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stories of my life [Sep. 19th, 2006|11:06 pm]
Min-STAR
nowaxxy22: thats why u and me mesh so well cuz we compliment each other i have the confidence for the both of us and u are the moral support of the group
tender cacophony: you get the sex
tender cacophony: and i take the emotional discharge
nowaxxy22: haha so fucking true omg
nowaxxy22: im sorry




-dork smile
-double Ds
-R3BEL
-physics



http://www.ebelproductions.com/movies/BobEbel/bcbs_groinInjury.mov.html
katkisses85: he kicked him in the penis
katkisses85: he was injured
katkisses85: injured bad
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Jesus loves the little children. [Sep. 6th, 2006|02:06 am]
Min-STAR
I feel like I owe it to you to make this entry, even though there has been no substancial closure to "Summer" or whatever you'd call these past ten weeks. It's only right that You cried today, Mother. I'd go into my analyst bullshit, but even I don't want to sit through that.


I wasted away at Cornell University for a little over six weeks. Pushing myself through really long lectures that were completely uninteresting. Forcing myself to sleep, through the tears and the sweat and the snoring and the reek of a roommate with the worst hygeine habits I've ever encountered in my lifetime. Sometimes I miss the convenience of college and having everything within walking distance, but when I came home, I realized how much I truly missed Adonis and the sensation of driving and the awareness of the motion and how beautiful the world was when you experience it miles and miles at a time.


The past four weeks have been enjoyable and I loved being with my best friends all the time, but a part of me is missing. Like my world is lacking Antarctica: I can live without it, but I will always know it's not there.


I have grown and I won't stop saying it and neither will my friends. I am a better person now and even though this summer has completely sucked, I don't want to take anything back. I needed this to prepare me for senior year. I needed to bullshit my way through those classes to get me motivated for the future course work and for college applications. I needed to be alone to notice how incredible being near someone is; proximity is the greatest emotion I have felt this summer. I needed the unbearable heat-wave with no air conditioning. Actually, no I didn't. But I needed every moment of this summer, even fighting with my best friend and losing some really great people and gaining weight and having the most ridiculous tanline of my life. I need rejection. I need defeat. I need failure. But worst of all, I need love.


I've never been ready to become older or to take responsibility or to come to terms with my age, but I'm approaching senior year by the second at a velocity I refuse to accept and I might aswell dive into the pool of seniority, the river of restraints, the mire of maturity, the neverending hole of the future.


i've got so much beauty around me, i can't look
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you grew up and you sparkled [Aug. 6th, 2006|03:03 am]
Min-STAR
[Current Location |Ithaca, NY]
[mood |nostalgicnostalgic]

so here i am... my last night in this program. i'm not sure what i'm supposed to feel. people, namely jennifer calantone, have told me this has been a growing experience and while every experience should make you grow, this one certainly yielded a lot more growing. here are some things i've learned:Collapse )


I did a lot of crying and a lot of moaning and pissing people off. I made a lot of sad phone calls, especially in the middle of the night. I did a lot to fight this learning experience and now that it's over I feel I've learned valuable lessons I otherwise would have missed. Being here has affirmed I love Cornell and what I'm going to apply as and the topic of my college essay. I never thought I'd ever feel this way, but I miss Wayne and I miss my car and I miss being bored and doing nothing. As much as I secretly wish I could spend some more time here, it's my time to come home and live my normal life. Life won't be the same and I may never be the same, but I know who and where my home is and it's where I need to be.


Six weeks? check.
Epiphanies? check.


Luke's asleep now and his roommate is gone, so I guess I'll go sleep in his roommate's bed. His DVD drive wasn't working, so we couldn't finish watching the third season of 24. This is where I am on the verge of exodus: alone among people. Full circle.



.so.why.do.you.leave.these.stories.unfinished.
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i die... without you [Jul. 24th, 2006|11:14 pm]
Min-STAR
[mood |crappy30-day rut]

It's been an entire month of being here at Cornell. Those of you who are actually reading this probably are the same ones who've kept in contact with me over the last 30 days and know exactly which words I've used most to describe this experience, namely: terrible, miserable, lonely, the worst decision of my life. This is mostly for myself so I can look back and be like "hey, i remember that."


I hate Cornell. Well, that's not entirely true, I just hate this summer program and nearly 100% of everything that has happened over the last month. I hate that I only have Luke who today broke his cell phone in half, so now I have a friend who will end up smoking pot for the remainder of these two weeks. I hate this fucking heat and I hate it even more because Ithaca is never a hot place at all. I hate that my roommate changes his clothes once a week and showers never and doesn't have to do laundry and doesn't ever wake up for his alarm and eats my food and moves my fans and is okay with being alone on his computer all day and doesn't need one friend to be happy. I hate astronomy and my astronomy class and my astronomy teacher; this class was the reason I came this summer in the first place: WHAT LUCK! I hate the people in this program and how they act and what they say and how I will never be good enough to even talk to most of them. I hate how empty this campus is. I can sense the lack of students and physically feel a void. There are probably only 2000 people here this summer, which is a mere 15% of the usual undergraduate population. This program did a very shitty job simulating college for me. I feel bad for the kids I do meet who say this program ruined their vision of Cornell. And while I do feel for them, it's one less application that will be going against mine.


Kerry keeps telling me how annoying it is that I won't stop saying I'm lonely and Laura listens to me at minimum of one hour daily saying how I wish I had one person I loved with me here. No one could possibly know everything that I am feeling right now unless they had the exact same situation. Coming to your ideal location and having it be less-than-perfect, coming from a city you hate but with dozens of people who love you and now are having fun in your absense, working hard all year just to be put to six more weeks of work, taking a class you've been waiting to take for three years just to see the professor isn't one from Cornell, being shot down everytime you try to make a friend, having a shitty roommate who could never be a friend and shitty people in your classes, the main place to make friends, having complete assholes all around your floor who laugh at Arnold jokes and make you feel like shit, being surrounded by smoking and pot every single place you step when it's the one thing you avoid at home. I realize this is all happened entirely by chance, which is why I can't and won't blame Cornell: it's not your fault. I just want to leave here now while I know this.


This weekend my sister visited me so I wouldn't be depressed since I was missing Antioch. She took me to the Commons and we had lunch and walked around. It's some place I want to be more often and if I have the guts, I'll take the bus there alone a few times a week to have dinner and walk around and read in libraries and eat granola amongst the other granola-eating Ithacans. I generally love Ithaca, which is why I know I have to be here. This is the place I want to live after grad/med school and the place I want to live with my wife and the place I want to have my kids grow up. I want them to grow up going to Stewart Park every spring and go sailing every summer and think Wegmann's is great and be really cultured and eat granola and grow to love Cornell. I know my children will not be perfect, like we all hope they could be and all secretly think they are, but I want at least one of those to follow true for each child.


I will learn to live and breathe Big Red.
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Your mother is not made of glass. [Jul. 3rd, 2006|02:46 am]
Min-STAR
[mood |geekygeeky]

As often as I say I'm lonely, though frequently I complain about the people here, no matter what I say about walking ten miles daily, I am enjoying myself here. I need to keep reminding myself to chill with the petty stuff and think about the big picture. If I get upset everytime someone excludes me, everytime someone walks away from a conversation, everytime I almost cry during a lab tutorial, I will not have a good time. I need to focus on the culture I am experiencing, the college life I am living, and the location. Freshman year I set out with two goals: sit at the 4.0 breakfast and get into Cornell. Those have been my goals and I've stuck to them. Sure, I wanted to read everything by Fitzgerald by graduation. Okay, I wanted to get all 5s on my APs. So I can't accomplish everything and I cannot zone in on fifty thousand things, but at least I'm still on track to fulfilling my two major goals. My friend today said something very valid: "Andrew, you can't keep setting unattainable standards for yourself." I guess I just needed someone to tell me I was being hard on myself.

This summer college program is like a microcosm for the entire world. I hang out with a boy from Columbia, I have gone dancing with kids from Turkey, I've held conversations with people from Brazil, England, Russia, Ethiopia. This is so rare.

Someone called my friend a nerd today. I responded with, "Look at where you're spending your summer! If you want to call someone a nerd, start with yourself." Then I introduced myself as Andrew from Wayne, NJ. Tonight I also introduced myself to a black girl after telling her she has the worst manners I have ever seen in my life. Surprisingly, both people carried good conversations after that.

We moved in over a week ago. My roommate has changed his clothes once since we've been here. Needless to say, my side of the room has a lot more clothes on the floor.

I think it's so weird to be surrounded by SO many kids here. I may not consider myself a genius like Jen and Danielle won't stop saying I am, but I know that I am smart; that's something I've had over other people for a long time. Now I look around... and it's all smart people. Kids who are accomplished not only in school but in sports, in community service, in music, in so many different fields. Instead of discouraging me, it's causing me to pick up my game. I love it. Everyone at home thinks Cornell is my thing. I've met kids who have parents working here, kids who have had their entire families go here, kids who have been dreaming and reaching for Cornell their whole lives. It's opening my eyes: I'm not the only person applying to Cornell in the fall.

Tonight I stayed in the formal lounge until 2:30am with this kid Luke, just walking around talking to different groups of friends. While most people have found my humor weird and obnoxious, I think he actually finds me funny and I think I caught him stealing one of my lines. I need to keep in mind that these kids don't matter. If they don't like my jokes, someone else will. If no one does, I still have people at home that love me. After three or six weeks, I won't see any of these kids again unless I want to.

I'm at fucking Cornell and it hits me at the weirdest times. I guess I still feel like I'm just visiting my sister or just walking through the campus; it will hit me soon. I can navigate my way almost anywhere on campus and have spent so much quality alone time that I'm starting to get comfortable at me. I like grabbing a coffee from the Kroch Library [bahahahahahahah] or an egg salad sandwich from the Green Dragon and just sitting somewhere and just staring. This is my campus for five more weeks: in the words of Dane Cook, "Dream it up you fucking dreamers."

I seem to be holding up my load here academically, which is why I came in the first place. Apparently it's amazing for your application if you start off your college GPA with a 4.0; who knew? You know what? It's pretty good here. There may be bitches, but there are bitches everywhere. There may be fucking ridiculous rules that make me want to scream, but there will always be rules everywhere. There may be really bad days with terrible AP scores and being late for dinner and eating meat lover's pizza alone while somehow watching The Hills, but there will always be days you want to slit your wrists and dive into a gorge and die. That's fucking life. "Even the biggest failure... beats the hell out of never trying."
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