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A little cold water
Maybe it is the perennial burden of the late bloomer, but I am thinking—all the time!— about morality. In high school while everyone else did shots and disappeared into bedrooms (I learned way too late how the one lead to the other), I drank a glass of water in the kitchen and thought about making toast. Also the morality of not doing tequila shots, the morality of not yanking a thong up to my bellybutton. The morality, in general, of refusal.
It was so much easier to say No and so much less fun. But see, how could I know? At the end of senior year my friends had wonderful memories but not many of them, and certainly no regrets. On the other hand, I was left with many memories of not much happening. Of making a bagel at 4 AM in someone’s parents’ kitchen; of driving home in the morning without a hangover, of watching other people dance, barf, make out and knock things over while I compiled To-Do lists in my head.
I'm Alisha, but some cool kids call me "Leash" because they're too lazy to add the extra syllable at the end, but I love them and this nickname anyway. It is a fact that I enjoy: Chuck Bass, Berryline, watching movies and shows via Surfthechannel, photography, graphic design, and procrastinating. It is also true that I am a broke college student.My other blog is here, a collection of things that I find inspiring, beautiful, or both. Also, see my Twitter, my other way of avoiding work.
Email me at: adramos [at] fas [dot] harvard [dot] edu.
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