Why is this so hard?

"That's what she said." As much as I love "The Office", the best part about this joke isn't its evocation of Michael Scott, it's how it can suddenly send a docile conversation between friends into a bawdy frenzy of laughter that is often not unwelcome.

This rant is probably only going to be half as potent as it ought to be since I don't really have this problem, yet that in no way means that it isn't important. It's easy enough to say that saying "relationships are tough" is cliche; however, it's just as sophomoric to respond by saying "tough it out". Life isn't something that can be pegged so easily by quick, easy responses, and anyone who thinks it can has one eye open at best. To be clear, I don't intend to discuss romantic relationships but rather interpersonal relationships of any kind.

Let's start off by talking about how natural it is for people to want closeness with others (if only for the reason that it is). On my first day of kindergarten, I went up to another boy and asked him if he wanted to be best friends with me. He said yes, and we were best friends for the next nine years (we were never as close after high school separated us into different social circles, though we were always friends and still are). Even though it's impossible to be that blunt after those early days of elementary school, it's only natural for anyone to search out others to share life with. This is clearly much easier for people who have a support base well-established and near at hand, though it's easy to forget that not everyone has this luxury. I know that, last Summer, I was somewhat nervous about how I'd be spending my time outside of class since I was just starting at UCLA as most of my friends were graduating. Fortunately, a vacancy opened up at my friend Matt's apartment, and I jumped at the chance to live with a friend. I went from having a somewhat shaky support base to having a trusted friend at my place of residence, and I don't think I'll ever forget just how lucky I've been.

Another friend of mine hasn't been nearly as lucky with building relationships where he has none. He moved to Michigan in order to work (for a very appealing salary, mind you), but he's found it to be nearly impossible to establish a support base there (it's a company town and most of the employees have families already). Now he spends his money--the reason he moved out there--on weekend trips to visit his friends in other states. There's just no way any person can live well without a friend or two who can just be there.

We're all looking for kindred spirits to share bits of life with. Sometimes you'll get lucky and fall into a situation with like-minded people, sometimes you'll want to run home as quick as you can just to feel like you're among people you trust. Either way, relationships are easy to take for granted and frustrating to be without, and everyone needs at least a little help to ease the burden of being human beings.

Behind the Ivy: Think OChem is hard? Think again.

As witnessed by the thousands upon thousands of prospective, college applicants across the country on the colorful, professionally-printed brochures, there is an implicit promise universities and colleges, across the land of spacious skies and purple mountain majesties, are making, and it is one, big FAT lie. While I already am fortunate enough to have an established group of friends (including the ones who post on this blog, of course :)) back home, I honestly came to Cornell, aside from its academic prestige, looking to forge life-long friendships (on some level, at least) and foster personal growth simply as a result of being here.

To my dismay, the quality of friendships I have been pining for in a collegiate environment is far from reality. I have found myself entangled in three social circles, since the beginning of my journey in obtaining an Ivy League diploma that guarantees limitless opportunities and, for some, secures a chance at having a lucrative and socially-advantageous future. Being a part of three social circles isn't something that I'd exactly be proud of or gloat about; as a matter of fact, it demonstrates how the Cornell community itself and at large is so severely fragmented and, quite bluntly, as loose as Paris Hilton's gaping vagina after multiple sex-capades. There appears to be no common ground that glues the students together. When such gluing does occur, it is only limited to certain, social clusters that pervade campus-wide. Everyone seems to settle for convenient friendships with those in their immediate proximity. Case in point: Supposedly close friends I had last semester live in another residential house 5 minutes away from me, yet we no longer eat or hang out together. Our interaction with one another have been reduced to platitudinous greetings and farewells.

It saddens me greatly to think that I might have to cohabit with this dismal reality for the next two years. I don't think I can even begin to scratch the surface of this "Big Red" farce as to why people here are so seemingly incapable of confiding in each other and letting go of their inhibitions. While having coffee with my friend Caroline last night, she briefly mentioned in passing that there is this girl who would converse with her after their club meetings but would never proceed to make plans for future gatherings or express any interest in further developing their friendship beyond the level of being acquaintances. It struck me, at the moment of Caroline's revelation, that this is precisely the problem I invariably observe on the Cornell campus. On the one hand, it is easy to meet new people within the sizable student population; on the other hand, it is frustratingly difficult to maintain flourishing and faithful friendships.

Although Organic Chemistry is one of the toughest courses an undergraduate student can take, I believe there is a greater obstacle ahead that is more self-defeating and demoralizing than any class--and that is learning how to navigate the social anatomy of college life. I rest my case. Now share yours.