Then I discovered One Direction.

The first time my friends told me about these guys, I thought, “Oh, there just another wannabe boy band. They’re boys for pete sakes!” (Nothing compared to the Backstreet Boys. Now, they’re men.) But of course, that changed rather quickly. You should probably know that I’m a big X Factor USA fan, and I followed the whole first season before I even found out about One Direction. So one day, when school loosened up and I had time on my hands, I decided to do some research on the group. Turns out, I was pleasantly surprised. The fact that they were discovered on the X Factor UK made me really happy. They’re British + one Irish (a good indication that they’re classier than a lot of American bands). They’re clean-cut. And moreover, they just bring me back to the good ‘ole pop days of the late ’90s. Backstreet Boys. ‘Nsync. Britney. Christina. Those were the days. And then there was a boy named Niall…

This is usually the part in the post where the fan girl is supposed to go crazy and write in all caps with stuff like, “I JUST LOVE HIM OMG MARRY ME PLEASE!”. But I will stay calm and mature about it. (Although my inner fan girl is squealing, “I JUST LOVE HIM OMG MARRY ME PLEASE!”.)

It’s weird; in every way he seems like an average boy, but in every way, he is not. I know my infatuation with him will be ephemeral, but I’ve decided to indulge in it anyway. So why do girls cry, spend every waking hour stalking this boy, scream, and squander their allowances on him? It’s the stardom, the fame, the hype. But I think there’s an intrinsically deeper reason. It’s the Irish accent. It’s the blue eyes. It’s the overall cuteness factor. It’s the brace face. It’s his goofy humor. It’s the relatability.  And that’s what makes him special.

So it’s official. I’m a 1D convert–and a Niall fan in particular. I squeal when I see their photos on Tumblr, and I seem to have spawned an entirely new creature through my recent infatuation. And just when I thought I was above being an obsessive fan girl, I did an unheard of thing today: I ordered One Direction’s memoir, Dare to Dream. I have fallen prey to the boy charm or at least the media hype. I still remember when I was somewhat proud of not going crazy over Justin Bieber, Hannah Montana, and High School Musical in my earlier days. Now I guess I’m no better.

But in a way, I think I’ve changed in my mindset towards these things. It’s good to live and let go. Let go of the vanity, the flippant nonchalance. Unleash your inner fan girl for once. Indulge in these things, even if it’s just for a while. Because, really, you only have your teenage years to enjoy them, before they get buried in cliched “wish I’d…” and “should’ve(s)…”. It’s the experience and memories that count.

We’re so young. We’re so young. We’re twenty-two years old. We have so much time. There’s this sentiment I sometimes sense, creeping in our collective conscious as we lay alone after a party, or pack up our books when we give in and go out – that it is somehow too late. That others are somehow ahead. More accomplished, more specialized. More on the path to somehow saving the world, somehow creating or inventing or improving. That it’s too late now to BEGIN a beginning and we must settle for continuance, for commencement.

What we have to remember is that we can still do anything. We can change our minds. We can start over. Get a post-bac or try writing for the first time. The notion that it’s too late to do anything is comical. It’s hilarious. We’re graduating college. We’re so young. We can’t, we MUST not lose this sense of possibility because in the end, it’s all we have.

–”The Opposite of Loneliness” by Marina Keegan

It’s summer. Let the YOLOing beginning. (This is just for kicks. I imagine I will be in this mindset two months from now. Welp.)

“The longer I live, the more I realize the impact of attitude on life. Attitude, to me, is more important than facts. It is more important than the past, the education, the money, than circumstances, than failure, than successes, than what other people think or say or do. It is more important than appearance, giftedness or skill. It will make or break a company… a church… a home. The remarkable thing is we have a choice everyday regarding the attitude we will embrace for that day. We cannot change our past… we cannot change the fact that people will act in a certain way. We cannot change the inevitable. The only thing we can do is play on the one string we have, and that is our attitude. I am convinced that life is 10% what happens to me and 90% of how I react to it. And so it is with you… we are in charge of our Attitudes.”

–Charles R. Swindoll

I guess everyone just wants to leave with the good times. Because that’s the only way to go.

I’ll tell myself to get over my emotions but that will only make it worse.

Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew this day would come, but I decided to ignore it until now. It’s kind of funny how everyone rolled with the tides up until now and just realized how screwed we were for next year. But in a way, I guess these are also trying times. Filling in their shoes will be the hardest yet, but that’s no matter. Tomorrow will be a new day, and new leaders will be born. We will never die out. Not on my watch.

*ALL PHOTO CREDITS TO HYPERBOLE AND A HALF

Stop.

You turn around, hoping for one last glimpse of what was, and see just a glimmer before it recedes forever into the darkness.

*courtesy of xkcd.com

But wait. I fear idleness. I fear the summer days of sluggishness and unproductivity. In a way, there is a beauty to routine. Routine. That’s a nice word.

As I have come to realize–I cherish my routine. My routine ensures that I am a constant of productivity–my routine guarantees I will accomplish something. That I will be someone someday. That somewhere in the future, I will reach my dreams. My routine has all my hopes and dreams interlocked into every action I take. What would I be without my routine?

I am utterly lost without my routine. For most people, the transition from school life to summer days is easier than batting an eyelid. They go swimming. Join summer league. Go vacationing in the Bahamas or travel to Italy. They hang out with their friends and goof off somewhere at the local mall. They try parkour maybe. Or they just stay at home enjoying their favorite episodes of the Big Bang Theory. They do normal things. Summer. That’s what it’s for.

But for me, I’m two years too late for those things. Time has taught me that there is never enough time for anything. Time is always keeping watch of the past, present, and future. It creeps up on you when you least expect it. It snickers and laughs when you realize you’ve used it all up. Time says, “Better luck next time.”

These thoughts permeate my mind constantly. Will I ever be able to enjoy the time that is given to me anymore? What I fear is idleness–I fear losing time. Normal? I wish I could be normal. But I’m two years too late for that.

What saves my frenzied mind is routine. Routine puts my mind to rest; I am able to trust it. Routine–it’s what keeps me one step ahead of Time.

Maybe when Routine grows old and Time becomes wary, I will be able to land somewhere soft and sweet. I could find myself somewhere among the lofty skies where no one could find me. That would be the best case of all.