#anothermondaypost

As I sit here with Microsoft Word staring blankly back at me, daring me to write another word on what is sure to go down in history as "The Worst Essay Ever Written", I find myself inclined to take a break and reflect on life for a few minutes. On the internet. Because, of course, nothing's worth anything if you don't get a few "likes" out of it. 

So, reflection time. Here we go. 

It's been about two months since my last "real" post, assuming you're not counting the "How I Met Your Mother" one. Speaking of HIMYM... That ending! Oh my god! What the hell? 

Okay, okay. Focus, Ethan. Deep breathing. You got this. 

Two months ago, I was nearing the end of my Winter Quarter. The smell of shit was strong in my nose, and I wasn't exactly in a happy place. I was starting to realize that maybe I wasn't as happy as I'd convinced myself I'd become... That, despite all the changes that had happened between Fall and Winter quarter, I was still a fish out of water at UCSB. That I was still alone. 

Now, most people think I'm crazy when I claim I don't like coming here. "But you're on the beach! It's so nice there!" And, they're right. It's a beautiful place. As such, it's hard for me to put into words what I dislike about UCSB, but I'll do my damnedest. 

Every weekend that I stay here, without fail, I face a choice on Friday and Saturday night: "What am I going to do tonight?" The choices are relatively slim, but it's a difficult decision nonetheless. You see, all my friends go out. The ones that don't only stay in because they're too backed up on homework to leave their rooms. Which means, I'm left with two options. On one hand, I can stay in myself, play video games and watch movies alone, which is fun enough but fairly lonely. On the other, I can go out with my friends.

This option is where I begin find myself uneasy. I don't drink. I've got no interest. It's not because I'm a "prude" or because I think it's "amoral" or because I've got some big religious reason... I think people should be free to do the shit they wanna do. I just have no interest in doing it of my own volition. But, because of this self-imposed restriction, I find parties nigh-intolerable.

The smell, the sweat, the loud music that I can't imagine that anyone could enjoy but yet everyone seems to... It's unbearable to me. And yet, often, I'll go. I hate it, but I'll go. And why? So that I don't have to spend Friday night alone. When I go to these parties with my friends, I inevitably end up being the guy that makes sure they get home ok in one piece as they get wildly, irrationally drunk. They lean on my shoulder and thank me profusely... And then, they continue to barely acknowledge me when they're sober again. And I don't hold it against them; I know drunk minds aren't sober ones, and I'm just thankful I was there to make sure they were ok. But I just can't spend every weekend playing guardian angel anymore.

I want to be somewhere where there's people that are more happy with a Friday night spent in playing Cards Against Humanity or Smash Bros than getting hammered at a frat house. I want to go to a school where I don't feel like a loser for not drinking, or for not wanting to party... A school where I don't feel pressured to drink or start smoking every time I step outside my room because I so desperately want to fit in.

And I know UCLA might not be much different. It could be pretty similar, for all I know. But it's not the number 2 party school in the nation. There's no "Deltopia" or "SB Halloween"... I feel like, even if it's not as different as I think it is, it's more likely that what I'm searching for is there, rather than here.

UCSB is a great school with a lot to offer. It's given me a few really great friends that I truly care about, and that alone is a gift. And it's given me plenty of other friends and acquaintances as well. My classes have been solid, my grades strong, my prospects high. But every day, I wake up with the same pit in my gut... That pit reminds me, every day, that I don't belong here. That I don't fit in, and that I'll never fit in unless I give in to Isla Vista. 

And I don't want to. 

Should I want to? Is there something wrong with me for not wanting to become that guy? 

That's where I start to wonder, you see. Is this just growing up? Learning to throw caution to the wind because I can? Is that what I should want to do? And even if it's not, should I be at least making an effort to fake it? 

It feels weird to me. Foreign. Because I'm just not that guy. I've never been that guy. And I can't shake the feeling that I don't need to be; that I don't need to change the fundamental core of who I am in order to "grow up". But, if I don't change, will I just continue to feel alone here? Like a stranger in my own home? 

But, I'm getting off track... This was all leading somewhere. It's two months later. April 28th, as a matter of fact. In these past few weeks, I've made an effort to become more involved on campus. I've helped my friend Bailey win her political campaign, I've joined a club, I've applied for some on campus jobs in the student government next year... All with a goal. After I came back from Spring Break, I realized that even though this might not be the right place for me in the long run, it's where I am for the present and foreseeable future. And, so, I've made it my mission to make my mark, however small that mark may be, while I'm still here. Why? So that in the years to come, if more students come along like me... Maybe they won't feel so out of place.