Winter Out, Ayoosh Pareek '12

by Alejandra Ceja

Mine is somewhat rigid, frizzy, and difficult to manage. Hers is light, soft, and TV-commercial shiny. The early unforgiving light exposes my tired eyes and groggy demeanor. I slouch with a bag of books plastered on my back, apathetic but on edge. She walks around erect, her long hair blowing in the wind, a tiny bag sitting on her shoulder... Her head held high, she exudes confidence with every second of her existence. With her petite figure and designer jacket, she is a sight to behold by every hormone-crazed, single-minded male on campus. She causes double takes, stares... And I just scowl. Caring only of my caffeine withdrawals and pressing assignments, I walk past her. I look down at my penguin suit of a jacket and the jeans I probably wore not too long ago. I am conscious of my wide hips with every stride I take, my unkempt hair, my out of place face, and my wearing boots.

And suddenly ... I am transformed into an alternate reality, The place behind the looking glass perhaps? I envision my life as different, as easy, as the one she probably had. Personal tutors, expensive cars, nannies she learned cute phrases of Spanish from. Her perfect, worry free world... But while I strive to make connections, she has them handed to her on a silver platter. While she has trust funds, I have an apron I wear until my face turns pink. While she has the social capital, I have the social stigma.