Post: #1

An Ivy League engineering student (19) of previously sheltered and socially pampered background finds it too hard in the merit-based real world, so she drops out to ride a carousel for fun and posts selfies for a living.

Compare that to Ivy League men dropouts, who only drop out to turn world-changing ideas into multibillion dollar companies.

Quote:I  found out I was a missing person on May 14.

I had been ignoring the avalanche of calls and texts from friends and family asking where I was and if I was OK. But that night I caved, turned on my phone and decided to look.

Scrolling down the list of messages, I saw one from a friend that read: “Just Google yourself.”

I typed my name into the search bar and a huge list of news reports with photos of my face stared back at me.

Shocked, all I could think was, “Oh my God, the police are looking for me.”

I was living two lives at once, and it was so surreal.

Two weeks earlier, I was almost finished with my sophomore year at the Columbia University School of Engineering and Applied Science when I decided to start my new life.

I skipped my final exams, changed bank accounts, got a second phone number and deleted my Facebook page.

I needed to break from my old life of high pressure and unreasonable expectations.

I grew up in Louisville, Ky., where my mom, LaCreis, worked as a cancer research scientist at the University of Louisville. It was just her and I; she raised me as a single mom.

I was always very independent, even at a young age. Louisville bored me, so when I was going to start high school, I insisted on moving to California to attend boarding school.

My mom didn’t want me to move so far away but supported my ­decision.

I got into Thacher, a highly competitive prep school in Ojai. Not long after I started, I became known as “The Science Girl.”

In my sophomore year, my chemistry teacher announced to all 240 students at an assembly that I had scored highest on the Regional Chemistry Olympiad — a national chemistry competition.

The teachers also used my homework as an example of what other students should strive for.

I enjoyed the praise and self-worth I felt when I excelled in school, and I wanted to keep aiming higher.

The ultimate climax was when I got into Columbia. Because it’s such a prestigious school, it made me feel like I had proven to myself, and everyone around me, that I made it.

And it seemed natural that I would continue to study science in college.

I had always fantasized about living in New York, but the first day I moved it was also my birthday. I felt really alienated and alone and didn’t find the Columbia students very welcoming.

During my freshman year, I quickly went from star student to slacker.

School just wasn’t interesting to me anymore because I didn’t have any close connections with my teachers.

I came from a small, tight-knit community at Thacher, and at ­Columbia I was lucky if a teacher talked to me. I’m a social learner and Columbia didn’t provide me that opportunity.

I felt like I had to choose between living a life I was passionate about and doing well in school.

Even though I was wired to be a good student, I didn’t feel ­inspired.

I got through the year, getting B’s and C’s, but I didn’t care. I was just happy the summer had arrived.

On a magical night in July, my friend Charlie invited me back to her apartment in Brooklyn. While we were up on her rooftop, she confessed to a strange love of walking on dangerous ledges.

I started imagining if I would have the guts to walk the line ­between life and death.

The feeling of risk, freedom and fearlessness that she experienced while on the ledge were all things I yearned for. That night, Charlie didn’t actually walk the ledge, but the idea excited me.

When school started again in September, I took computer science classes and hated every minute of it.

I had been waking up every day for months with a feeling of dread and doom. I couldn’t keep putting my all into something I cared nothing about.

On a rainy day in early April, I couldn’t take it anymore. I broke down hysterically crying on campus while I was trying to study for a test in Lerner Hall. Completely overwhelmed, I didn’t stop sobbing for all 10 blocks to my apartment on 124th Street and Broadway.

At 7 a.m. the next morning, I shot up in bed and told myself, “I’m ­going to change this.”

Feeling determined, I walked to the Ivy League Stationers on 116th Street and bought an olive-green notebook — the same color as my birthstone.

I started plotting my escape, jotting down my plan on the college rule lines. I knew one thing for sure: I wasn’t going to tell anyone.

I completely stopped going to all my classes and only went to my work-study on campus.

I made $14 an hour filming lectures for the Columbia Video Network and put every penny into ­savings. I sold unworn clothes and school supplies through Facebook to make some extra money.

Then I started searching for a new apartment. I replied to at least 20 posts through Facebook groups like NYC Living and Gypsy ­Housing.

The first person replied to me 12 hours later and I immediately went to take a look at the $750-a-month room in Williamsburg the next day.

When I popped out of the Morgan Avenue subway stop, I instantly felt like this was an area I wanted to live in. Art covers the walls, everyone looks interesting and there’s a fun vibe in the air.

The apartment mirrored the atmosphere of the neighborhood perfectly. I was barely at the loft a few minutes when I said I’d take it.

I felt like my plan was finally coming together.

On April 29, I moved out of my three-bedroom apartment where I was living with three former Columbia students who were all busy working jobs in computer science.

They didn’t ask any questions as I lugged all my belongings during multiple trips on the 1 and L trains to my new room on Seigel Street. At my new place, I live with two artists in their 20s who are both very easygoing.

The first night in my cozy new room, I was so relieved. I felt I had gotten over the main hurdle of my plan.

A few days later, I started to totally disconnect. I deleted my Facebook profile first, shut down my phone and got a prepaid number, took all of the money out of my Chase bank account and opened a new one.

I wanted the time to make sense of my situation alone and have the space to comprehend it. I felt like sharing would force me to explain something I hadn’t even figured out myself. It wasn’t normal to just quit school. But I never expected it to get so out of hand.

I spent the next week or so completely focused on myself. I got to know my new roommates, took walks around the neighborhood and found my new favorite coffee shop a few blocks away.

But the more time that passed, the more people tried to find me.

I had given my new number to a few friends after I first left, but quickly stopped responding to them.

At the worst point, my new phone was buzzing off the hook ­every 30 minutes. Eventually, a friend must have given my new number to my mom because she started calling, too.

I was constantly worrying, and the more they tried to contact me, the more I didn’t feel ready to tell them. The longer I ignored them, the worse it got.

When Mother’s Day arrived, I felt guilty for not calling my mom, but I still couldn’t bring myself to do it. I couldn’t face her yet.

I never turned on the TV and stayed immersed in my own world. I had only seen the missing-person fliers online.

About two weeks later, I heard a loud knock on my door.

“Are you Nayla Kidd?” one of the officers said sternly.

“Yes,” I replied.

“It’s the police. Can we come in?”

My jaw dropped to the ground.

“Yes,” I said sheepishly.

Three big cops came into my room.

“You know we’ve been looking for you nonstop for the past three days?” said Detective Alex Argiro, who had dark hair and a piercing stare.

At that point, I knew I needed to face reality. They told me since my mom wasn’t picking up the phone, it would be best for me to come to the 26th Precinct station house with them.

“Can you give me five minutes to get ready to go?” I asked.

I threw my hair up in a bun and put on my jacket and shoes, taking a few extra minutes to wrap my mind around facing my mom.

On the way there, I sat in the back seat of the cop car with Detective Argiro, half-listening while he attempted to give me life advice.

We got to the Upper West Side station house, and my mom showed up shortly after.

She looked tired, but to my surprise she was very calm.

Without talking, we embraced each other tightly and she asked me, “How are you doing?”

All the anxiety and guilt I was feeling washed away in that ­moment.

“I haven’t slept the last few days,” she said to me.

I couldn’t bring myself to say much. I just listened.

“Trust me, honey, I understand. You don’t have to explain anything,” she reassured me. I nodded and felt myself tearing up.

“An investigator told me you might be stripping. Even if you’re a stripper, you’re gonna be the best stripper out there,” she said to me.

I laughed and felt grateful for her support. And of course, that stripper tip wasn’t true.

I still don’t know how the cops found me. My mom and the police never said.

It’s now been over three weeks since I went off the grid, and I’ve learned a lot from my experience.

I realize now that I don’t need to prove anything to anyone else or myself. School isn’t for me, and I’m OK with that.

There are a lot of different things I would like to work on and ­develop now. I want to make and produce music and work on my writing.

I want to continue my modeling career and see if I can make money doing freelance gigs. I’m back in touch with my friends and family, but I’m not going back to how things used to be.

I’m going to keep living in my new apartment and have no plans to go back to school again. I always told myself I needed to find gratification through academia, but now I want to find it on my own through the arts.

I finally broke down because I was living a life I thought I should be living instead of living the life I want.

http://nypost.com/2016/05/29/why-i-had-t...disappear/

Post: #2

Quote:she raised me as a single mom

Post: #3

Cool - she shared the color of her birthstone. I could die now and be a happy man.

Post: #4

Dumb Bitch Wrote:I want to continue my modeling career

Post: #5

Dumb Bitch Wrote:I want to continue my modeling career and see if I can make money doing freelance gigs.

Yup. There should be some openings in Dubai.

Post: #6

(05-31-2016 08:27 AM)Daddy Chains Wrote:  

(05-31-2016 08:21 AM)Texas_Tryhard Wrote:  

Dumb Bitch Wrote:I want to continue my modeling career and see if I can make money doing freelance gigs.

Yup. There should be some openings in Dubai.

Oh yeah, the sheiks and emirs will have ALL her openings in Dubai.





Seriously, Columbia wasted a seat in its Freshman class on this broad.

Post: #7

Quote:In my sophomore year, my chemistry teacher announced to all 240 students at an assembly that I had scored highest on the Regional Chemistry Olympiad — a national chemistry competition.

There's our first tell. Regional =/= National.

The U.S. National Chemistry Olympiad is indeed a national, and potentially international chemistry competition among high school students across the US and beyond. The national olympiad uses a single exam.

However, there is no such thing as a "Regional" Chemisty Olympiad. There are Local Chemistry Olympiads in which areas decide which students are going to participate in the National Olympiad, but, per that website...

Quote:Each year, the ACS USNCO Exams Task Force designs a USNCO Local Section Exam that coordinators can order and distribute among high schools. Local Section Exams can be administered in a classroom environment by high school teachers or at one location (i.e. local university for all students). Local Sections can also design their own exams or use other methods to carry on local competitions, such as Science Bowls, teacher recommendations, or science fairs.

Given she apparently got nowhere in the national Olympiad, not even selected for it, my guess is that she came first on a local, watered-down version of the Local Section Exam but didn't make the cut to go any further. But hey, exaggerating achievements is typical for women of this age.

Oh, and in passing:



<---Single Mom --- Miss Chemistry--->

God save us from people who mean well. -storm

Post: #8

(05-31-2016 07:39 AM)Daddy Chains Wrote:  ...
I’m going to keep living in my new apartment and have no plans to go back to school again. I always told myself I needed to find gratification through academia, but now I want to find it on my own through the arts.

I finally broke down because I was living a life I thought I should be living instead of living the life I want.

Post: #9

These sorts of cries for help are not uncommon for young women. Some are expressed in more extreme form than others. But the underlying motive is the same: to escape from the rigid confines of the modern social straightjacket.

We easily forget that many normal young women hate the PC bullshit and the oppressive system as much as men do. They hate the work grind, the endless treadmill, and all the party-line fakeness that goes along with that. Inside, many--maybe most--of them yearn to rebel against the system.

For some, the rebellions take mild forms: tattoos, drug experimentation, dropping out of school, going to demonstrations, dating outside their ethnic or social caste, and maybe even having a baby or two.

And then others just go off the grid. It all depends.

Most young women are looking for a man to come along and take then "into a new thing." To take then away from all the bullshit and the nonsense. To restore them to the roles that Nature mandated for them, but which our unbalanced modern society represses in them.

They want someone to show them the gateway. To show them a way out. And if you can do that, you will be rendering them a priceless service.

Post: #10

I went ahead and counted,

holly shit,

in that vomit-inducing wall of text the bitch used first-person personal pronoun "I" whopping 138 different times.

That is in addition to numerous usages of "me", "my", "myself", and "mine".

(05-31-2016 08:57 AM)Paracelsus Wrote:  <---Single Mom --- Miss Chemistry--->

Yup, the girl definitely looks like model material.



But, instead of kicking her ass for being a dumb cunt her mom is encouraging her even as far as going into pole dancing, as long as that's what makes her happy.

You know there was a no-nonsense time not too long ago where parents would tell their children: "You did what, moron!? Dropped out from Ivy League to be a freelance writer/Backpage model?!? Pheeew, you better go back there and hit those books hard, or I'll whoop yo ass even harder!"

Double and triple so for legit opportunities like Ivy League.

Can you imagine an Asian mom in this type of situation? Or to that matter, can you imagine an Asian daughter dropping out of Ivy League to work as a barista in a dive coffee shop?



Nowadays it's the culture of total enable-ment. Special snowflakes must be supported and celebrated lest their feelings be hurt, no matter how fucked up their plans are. And, like sheltered spoiled brats, snowflakes are taking the advantage knowing fully that there are no immediate repercussions, nor short-term fallouts with respect to their idiocy. And since the chickens come home to roost in seemingly not-so-foreseeable future none of these idiots can think longer term, because if they could they wouldn't be doing dumb shit in the first place.

Ultimately, and as harshly as that is, it's mostly about Darwin.

Post: #11

(05-31-2016 08:21 AM)Texas_Tryhard Wrote:  

Dumb Bitch Wrote:I want to continue my modeling career

...

Post: #12

Daddy Chains please tell me you did not count by hand.

Post: #13

(05-31-2016 08:21 AM)Texas_Tryhard Wrote:  

Dumb Bitch Wrote:I want to continue my modeling career

Well the Saints are not that bad right now. But surely she could be a paperbag model.

Post: #14

(05-31-2016 10:10 AM)storm Wrote:  Daddy Chains please tell me you did not count by hand.

Post: #15

She only responded to the deluge of calls and messages about her safety and whereabouts when it connected with her narcissism: "Just google yourself".

Post: #16

That beat whore is a model? For what? Those posters that tell kids to use condoms and stay away from smoking crack?

Post: #17

(05-31-2016 09:34 AM)Quintus Curtius Wrote:  We easily forget that many normal young women hate the PC bullshit and the oppressive system as much as men do. They hate the work grind, the endless treadmill, and all the party-line fakeness that goes along with that. Inside, many--maybe most--of them yearn to rebel against the system.

You're giving them far too much credit.

The qualitative analysis of her essay speaks for itself.

This person is not naturally suited for the STEM field she was being injected into. Instead of changing to some soft studies (which are still subject to the same rules and schedules of adult responsibilities-) she wants protracted adolescence, a fabulous life free from restrains RIGHT NOW, just like she sees those cool kids are having. That means going to bed late, getting up later, hanging out in dive coffee shops most days long, fondling her iPhone/Macbook, curating her Instagram, meeting people who are some type of replicas of her wannabe self... which through the echo chamber effect ensures max good times with minimum amount of conflict.

If that means hitting sugar daddies cum rent times, so be it.

When the wall hits she will tour the victim circuit, giving inspirational speeches to other lost cumdumpsters, writing books about her oppression in the hands of those who dared to count her "I"s.

Post: #18

Nothing sets a girl's mind right like some good dick. However the longer they stay on the carousel, the less powerful dick becomes.

Post: #19

This is exactly the kind of woman, along with her friends, who would be complaining about lack of ethnic representation in the sciences, too.

Post: #20

(05-31-2016 07:39 AM)Daddy Chains Wrote:  

Quote:I had been waking up every day for months with a feeling of dread and doom. I couldn’t keep putting my all into something I cared nothing about.

On a rainy day in early April, I couldn’t take it anymore. I broke down hysterically crying on campus while I was trying to study for a test in Lerner Hall. Completely overwhelmed, I didn’t stop sobbing for all 10 blocks to my apartment on 124th Street and Broadway.

At 7 a.m. the next morning, I shot up in bed and told myself, “I’m ­going to change this.”

Meh, I've had something like this with work after college, the same feeling of dread and doom that led to me effectively sabotaging myself on a daily basis. I quit my well-paying comfy job without any plans on what to do next, was unemployed for about half a year and didn't do shit, then switched careers and am now much, much happier.

This has more to do with a dissatisfaction in life, especially when we follow this prebuilt track of "success" that modern society establishes for us. Go to school. Get good grades. Go to college. Get good grades. Get a comfy corporate job. Get married. Have kids. Make sure they do the same. Some of us are built to walk this path. Some of us would rather die than do so.

This forum is all about taking the garbage society shoves in our face about how we should be living our lives and shoving it back up society's ass. This article is just an example of such an interaction. Young person who hasn't experienced real consequences due to a sheltered life tries something crazy and stupid. Been there done that.

Post: #21

Her mom specializes in "Cancer Health Disparities". Meaning white privilege in cancer survival rates.

Post: #22

If this person can just drop everything important (in reality, not her mind) and go off the grid, what is to stop her from doing this if she ever gets a family?When she starts to yearn for unbridled anonymous dick, she will leave until she wants the comforts of what she used to have. In the meantime, her husband will be charged with murder, his kids given up, etc. When she returns (with zero repurcussions and a mountain of sympathy directed towards her), and divorces her husband, the kids will still be given back to a mommy that without a moments notice will drop them like a sack of potatoes.

Even though I know what a shit show marriage is in today's world, there are still times where I would love that kind of life. Then these stories pop up that put me back in my place.

Post: #23

Back in the day they used to call a person like this a loser.

Post: #24

You could make it a race issue and I garentee that someone somewhere will give this story this spin about those evil whites and their Ivy league colleges. Irony is that whites are mayby the most underrepresented group in Ivy league system.
It is a women issue. She do not want to be clever she wants to be pretty. The money wasted just becouse some girl whats to be pretty.
It is probably some scholarship money.
But you hear those storys most of the time from white middle class girls. They can not drop out of college so they study Liberal Arts which is the basicly the same. They want to play four years more highschool with borred or daddys money.
And here comes the problem: Where comes the money from?

Modelling?
Please Bitch she is already old for the industry. They can't form and meld her into their little doll. And everyday there are atleast thousand more beautifull 16 year olds for the industry.

Post: #25

She was reasonably intelligent, but completely out of her league at a school like Columbia, in an engineering program, trying to hang with super-study Asians and other intense strivers. She just couldn't run with the pack, and was probably sick of seeing her name on the bottom of the test score list.

It's understandable how that can wear someone down. She should probably just switch to an easier major.