08.15.06
Depression – Euphoria
They say that there is a thin line between love and hate; I think that it can be considered true about most of the strong emotions. The thing is that sometimes it seems as if it’s all a matter of definitions, whether I decide to call it depression and sadness or rather euphoria and joy. The level of excitement in the brain is the same.
Now, what the fuck am I talking about? You see, I can’t quite decide how I feel about this trip.
There are times when I tell people that I’m going to study for one semester in the states and then travel for a while and all that, and it sounds absolutely great. What can be better? New country, new people, excitement, crap like that. And when I tell about it, I feel like the luckiest girl ever “look at me, I’m all grown up now, going to study and travel abroad”… That’s the euphoria part.
And then there are those times when I find myself alone in my room, staring at the familiar walls, wandering “what the fuck was I thinking?! Is it too late to cancel? Maybe just cancel the ticket and it will all go away?” Cummon, don’t say I’m a chicken, It’s just pretty scary! To be all alone, new school, new kids, I don’t even know if I like Americans… They all talk funny and pretend they care… And I didn’t get all the courses I wanted, and the ones I got I’m not sure I want.
What was wrong with staying here? In the war stricken, good old, hot-as-hell,
Israel?
I got one semester left, I know the drill, lot’s of spare time on my hands, all of my friends have moved to Tel Aviv (finally, you see the light!)… Hang out? Go to the beach? But no! I’ll go and freeze to death with those snobbish IV league kids, who are 10 years younger then I am and think it’s cool that I’ve been to the army (how little do they know).
That’s the depression part (for all of you who fail to keep track of my whining post).
And I don’t have any winter clothe…
And no shoes either…
And I get these mails from Penn about orientation saying “On Sunday we will all go for a tour in the old city, and then have a drink at Joe’s and then a steak at Mike’s and after that totally informal cheese and wine evening, no tie (but no jeans either)…We are so cool and welcoming and we love you all and welcome diversity…” GOD!
I already hate them…
And the girl I’m going with asked me to baby-sit her dog…
Dear friends, help little Lika to feel better about herself (although most of you think it’s fun and envy me for going).
Or just say whatever you feel like.
P.S. next time I promise more foul language, more juicy stuff and maybe even some legal stuff to keep it down to earth. I’m warming up… Keep track…
Koooty said,
17 August, 2006 at 3:02 am
Dear little Lika… Don’t worry, I am sure you’ll be able to arrange a nice pink coat and matching leather boots…
And you could always come to NYC for a visit…
HaventDecidedOnaNameYet said,
17 August, 2006 at 5:28 am
OT, i still think you should make your blog name, more understandable…
about shoooozZZzzz, what she said… ^^,
well, it is going to be SO cool for you, youre going to be a semester in the US, that means you get to see the good stuff, and not staying long enough to actually feel the crap.
and while you baby-sit the dog, you can train it to fetch shoes, ( from luxury stores for example)
BTW, there are no americans at penn… only corean (chinks), indians (towelheads), chinese, joooz, ruskis and such…
real americans sitting home watching Oprah, eating big-mak with cheese… so you wont even meet them probably. so dont worry
you will go there, have fun, do the right impression about israel! and come back home,
HaventDecidedOnaNameYet said,
17 August, 2006 at 5:31 am
P.S
it called
Cyclothymia or Bi-polar disorder….
we dont use the term Depression-euphoria like since the 80′ ies…
peace….
likas said,
18 August, 2006 at 8:07 pm
It would be hard to leave the right impression, we just bombed the fuck out of Beruth and still managed to lose the bloody war. How am I supposed to go and explain all that?
And BTM:
cyclothymia = cyclical condition in which depression alternates with elation.
So you’re such a smart ass to say exactly what I have said only in different words! That’s what lawyers do, go and get yourself another niche.
Koot’ Motek, pink is my color of choice and I’m sticking to it!
HaventDecidedOnaNameYet said,
20 August, 2006 at 11:56 am
Crazy stuff…
[url]http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=515642196227308929&q=type%3Asports+OR+genre%3Asports[/url]
Magentiqueen said,
21 August, 2006 at 12:04 pm
How about not deciding?
After all you do know that there will be things you shall like and dislike, that’s life you know…
its a matter of opinion how it will all come up eventually.
Try to stay openminded, and leave the criticism for when you get back.
Or perhaps in other words (of our wise Guru Bobby Macferin:) “Don’t worry, be happy”
Dorin
limor said,
22 August, 2006 at 3:16 pm
you must go, Im waiting for my michael. dont forget – plastic surgeon.
likas said,
23 August, 2006 at 3:59 pm
One Michael, plastic surgeon coming right up, just don’t forget he has to fix my boobs first…
And you don’t forget stinky Thai LM menthol sigarettes for me, with scray pictures (you’ll see when you get there…)
likas said,
23 August, 2006 at 4:07 pm
Dorin!
(sorry, my comments are not in order… still trying to figure this blog operating thingy…)
This lovely optimism of yours warms my heart each time. But you know what, it’s easy for you to speak, you have a pink coat (yeah, I know it’s magentic, but it could pass for pink on a cloudy day).
And as you can read from Koot’s comment, it’s all about getting the pink coat (and the matching boots).
So you see girl, it’s not as easy…
Magentiqueen said,
24 August, 2006 at 1:11 pm
If its all about the pink coat… then I can land it to you, Seriously!
I Have some other pinky stuff to keep me happy while you take it for half a year…
Koooty said,
25 August, 2006 at 1:48 am
FIX YOUR BOOBS?! How dare you!?!
Oh… and who is Michael…? I thought we decided on John… :$
HaventDecidedOnaNameYet said,
28 August, 2006 at 11:33 am
There she leaves, farewell.
by the end of winter she
returns clad in Ivy.