15 minutes, 300 mL of blood, and I’m $60 richer.

Even easier than asking your parents for money, because there’s no guilt involved. I’ve been pretty good at not doing that, although I’m not above accepting it when it’s offered. What can I say – I’m a poor grad student.

Funny to think that if I had gone to grad school at UPenn, I’d probably be living in an apartment that my parents paid for, and thus not have to deal with that pesky rent check every month. Of course, then I’d probably be engaged and never have started up this whole photography thing. It’s funny how your life can change when you pick up and move 3000 miles away for grad school in a city where you don’t know a single soul to begin with.

I’m happy here, happy with my group of friends, and happy with myself. I guess that was the point in the end – to define myself outside of a four-year relationship. A relationship that, by all means, was fantastic, but suffered from poor timing. Two people who were the same age, give or take three months, but at very different points in their lives.

I’ve been single for over two and a half years now, and been quite happy about it. There have been only a few instances where I wondered to myself and friends if I was getting too caught up in “Seinfelding” people (i.e. refusing to date them for completely inane reasons, such as “man hands”), but then I came back to reality and realized that no, I just have high standards. And very little free time to spend with people who don’t meet those standards.

I don’t really know why I’m posting this – in fact, if anyone mentions this post to me, I’ll just claim it was written while I was suffering a severe loss of blood and therefore can’t be held accountable for anything I said. Just like when I’m drunk.