Sometimes you just have a shitty night. And then sometimes you have an even shittier morning after.
Last night I was in a pissy mood. One of my best friends that I've made at college so far broke up with her serious boyfriend on Friday. She hasn't stopped crying in three days. I don't know how to help her, though, because I have such an unhealthy love life that I can't help myself. Seeing Annie so upset and heartbroken just reminds me of my own bruised and battered heart. And now I'm adding on more bruises because I'm a horrible masochist. I've just come to realize how I keep repeating my old mistakes. It's like a sick circle I keep making myself run around. I just can't stop. But I want to because I know if I keep going around this track I'm going to end up where Annie is, stuck in bed crying for days, completely broken.
Then, this morning I wake up and check Facebook to find my newsfeed filled with status updates of "RIP Frank." A boy I knew in high school, a friend of my brother, killed himself last night.
I don't really know how to deal with this. I didn't know Frank very well. I saw him out at parties and knew him through my brother. He was just a nice guy, an athlete. He was young and vibrant. And last night he hung himself with his tie.
I called my brother this morning. He's having a rough time. I could tell from his voice he was upset but just didn't want to deal with his feelings. He's going home this weekend for the funeral.
All of this coming all at once is really affecting me. I just want to get back in bed, pull the covers up over my head, and stay there forever. The world is a horrible place. All this life brings is shit. Pain and heartbreak and shit.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Sword Fights and Light Saber Battles
After classes today, which were especially long and boring today as I had six hours of class without a break, I met my aunt and left campus for the first time in over three weeks. My aunt is a professor at my university. She, her husband (my mother's older brother), and their little boys live about ten minutes from campus.
I didn't realize just how horrible dining hall food is until I tasted my first proper meal in weeks. Oh my God, I almost had an orgasm. And, yes, I realize that is a very strong statement to make right there but it's true. I don't think I've ever cleaned my plate so fast. What I had been eating in the dining halls all these weeks is like plastic food compared to what I had for dinner tonight. My uncle isn't even some great cook but just fresh ingredients prepared in normal portions instead of mass produced, really it just made all the difference.
I realized when I decided to come up for a visit I would have to bear the frantic balls of energy that are my little cousins. My aunt and uncle were late-in-life-parents. They tried for years, then adopted their son Peter from Korea only to get pregnant a year later (as life goes). Now they are 60 and have two young boys who are constantly bouncing off the walls. I feel their pain because just one night is exhausting for me but I have still offered myself as babysitter because if any couple needs a break it's my aunt and uncle.
So as soon as I arrive Peter, who is tiny for his 11 years and almost vicious for such a small kid, kidnaps me. We played outside before dinner and Peter proceeded to cheat at every game to proclaim himself the winner. After dinner, the real fun began.
First, though, I was allowed to play the piano. I haven't written about it here but one of the hardest things for me these past few weeks has been missing my piano. I haven't played since I've been here. I can't say how good it felt to place my hands on the keys. As I played I felt like my insides had been tightly wound and were loosening back into place. I could have played for hours and hours but Peter and William had other plans.
The boys pulled me away from the piano for two hours of sword fighting and light saber battles. These kids may be young but they are surprisingly violent. I have bruises all over but honestly it was the most fun I've had in a long time.
Now it's just barely ten o'clock and I am ready to pass out. It's been a long week. I plan on getting a full night's sleep. I just got out of a nice, long shower (oh how nice it felt to have a proper shower not in the tiny stalls of my communal bathroom!) and have settled into the glorious queen-sized bed in the guest room.
Time for sleep. Because tomorrow morning it's off and running to start another long weekend.
I didn't realize just how horrible dining hall food is until I tasted my first proper meal in weeks. Oh my God, I almost had an orgasm. And, yes, I realize that is a very strong statement to make right there but it's true. I don't think I've ever cleaned my plate so fast. What I had been eating in the dining halls all these weeks is like plastic food compared to what I had for dinner tonight. My uncle isn't even some great cook but just fresh ingredients prepared in normal portions instead of mass produced, really it just made all the difference.
I realized when I decided to come up for a visit I would have to bear the frantic balls of energy that are my little cousins. My aunt and uncle were late-in-life-parents. They tried for years, then adopted their son Peter from Korea only to get pregnant a year later (as life goes). Now they are 60 and have two young boys who are constantly bouncing off the walls. I feel their pain because just one night is exhausting for me but I have still offered myself as babysitter because if any couple needs a break it's my aunt and uncle.
So as soon as I arrive Peter, who is tiny for his 11 years and almost vicious for such a small kid, kidnaps me. We played outside before dinner and Peter proceeded to cheat at every game to proclaim himself the winner. After dinner, the real fun began.
First, though, I was allowed to play the piano. I haven't written about it here but one of the hardest things for me these past few weeks has been missing my piano. I haven't played since I've been here. I can't say how good it felt to place my hands on the keys. As I played I felt like my insides had been tightly wound and were loosening back into place. I could have played for hours and hours but Peter and William had other plans.
The boys pulled me away from the piano for two hours of sword fighting and light saber battles. These kids may be young but they are surprisingly violent. I have bruises all over but honestly it was the most fun I've had in a long time.
Now it's just barely ten o'clock and I am ready to pass out. It's been a long week. I plan on getting a full night's sleep. I just got out of a nice, long shower (oh how nice it felt to have a proper shower not in the tiny stalls of my communal bathroom!) and have settled into the glorious queen-sized bed in the guest room.
Time for sleep. Because tomorrow morning it's off and running to start another long weekend.
Monday, September 14, 2009
A Tale of Humiliation
I know I promised to write up a post about seeing Joe Biden but several things got in the way. First, I wrote up a very personal and emotional post about something I've been struggling with for the past six years but in particular in the last few months. Then, of course, I couldn't bring myself to post it. Ironically, the post was about how I have a hard time opening up and sharing my feelins. It shouldn't be surprising that I didn't post that entry. Then, I felt like too much time had elapsed since my Joe Biden experience. Also, I am somewhat embarrassed, however, I will admit that it was quite hilarious.
So now I'm back here, better late than never, to tell my tale of mystery and intrigue. Ok, there was no mystery or intrigue. There was plenty of comedy, however. It is experiences such as the one I am about to recound that makes me think that someone should just follow me around with a video camera to record all the ridiculous shit that happens in my life, most of which ends in my own humiliation. My roommate now asks me every day after classes, not how my day went but what embarrassing situation I got myself into that day because I always have a story to tell that involves my public humiliation. It's a good thing I can laugh at myself.
Anyway, moving on to Joe Biden.
There are a few facts that need to be explained before I begin my tale. First, I am a college student. This means that I have a shitty sleep schedule. For example, last night I stayed up until 3:30 AM and woke up at 9:30 AM. I considered that I good night of sleep. Last Tuesday night I believe I did not go to sleep until about 3:00 AM but unlike today I had to wake up at 7:00 AM to go see Joe Biden. Normally I do not worry about only getting four hours of sleep. What is black coffee for if not a substitute for a normal sleep schedule.
Here's an interesting fact about black coffee that I have learned: Coffee helps keep one awake; it is my drug of choice to make up for my shitty sleep schedule, however, it only works on one important condition--that said coffee is consumed continually, multiple cups over several hours. Then, of course, you must set aside a few hours for an unhealthy crash but that is not to be worried about. College students always find time for impromptu naps.
Back to The Morning of Joe Biden. The second fact that should be explained: I did not have sufficient black coffee in my system that morning. I got a good start, a fairly strong cup consumed while walking to the Student Center. Then, I had to stand in line to get in. My coffee ran out. I could not leave the line. I had no means to fill my coffee cup. This is when I began to panic. They gave me free fruit snacks, though, so this assuaged my fears for a while.
Then, they separated students from non-students. I met up with the girl I met buying the tickets (which were actually free for students but we had to stand in a line). She looked much better off than I did, smily and bubbly and all the things I should have been because anyone who knows me knows that I am nothing if not a politics nerd. We were walking into the auditorium when we were approached by a man in an expensive suit.
"Would you ladies like to sit on stage this morning?" he asked. I glanced at my friend. Here is what was going through my head: I NEED COFFEE I NEED COFFEE I NEED COFFEE Stage? COFFEE Would that mean I would be mere feet from Joe Biden? COFFEE COFFEE Wait. Stage? COFFEE This event will most likely be televised. COFFEE COFFEE COFFEE Did I put on makeup? Yes, but I NEED COFFEE Do not want to be on stage. COFFEE Could sit off to side, still be near Joe Biden and not ever on TV. COFFEE COFFEE I NEED COFFEE RIGHT NOW
"Ok, sure," my friend answered unaware that my mind had just undergone such a debate. And so we were led off to the stage where similarly shocked prisoners were already seated. There were only two open seats. Here is how the stage was set up: a podium on one side, three stools in the middle, and a table set up with microphones on the other side. I was under the impression that this would be like a Town Hall Meeting I assumed that Joe Biden and the Secretaries of Education and Treasury would be seated at the table. I thought if I took the seat behind the table I would surely be on television. And so I chose the seat behind the podium, slightly rised because it was the second row of stage seating.
I did not know that there would be long speeches given from the podium. I thought the podium would be used to introduce the event and the speakers, who would then stay seated answering questions from the stools or the table. Oh, how I was wrong.
Not only did all three speakers give long speeches from the podium but because of the camera angle zoomed in somewhat, I was the only person on stage to be on television for the majority of said speeches. Thank God, I had put some small amount of effort into my appearance that morning. I had put on a cute but conservative sweater, a high wasted skirt, and my favorite boots. I had even put on eyeshadow, demure and neutral but enough to actually enhance my sleepy eyes. My roommate later told me that I looked like Audrey Hepburn (well she said, "that girl in the picture over your desk" because she didn't know who Audrey was, which is a travesty but I forgave her because, even though she didn't know it, saying that I resembled Audrey in any way is enough to make me love you forever).
Of course, I must elaborate. I looked like a very sleepy Audrey Hepburn.
Halfway through the Vice President Biden's speech, the first of three, my eyes started to feel heavy. I didn't worry too much, I was actually interested in listening to the Vice President's speech. I could make it through, I thought. Mind over matter.
Well, here's the thing about trying to stay awake on four hours of sleep and only one cup of coffee, it's hard and you need extreme distraction. As interested as I was in the Vice President's, Secretary Geiner's, and Secretary Duncan's speeches, staring at the back of their heads was not particularly interesting. The situations escalated quickly. Sitting on the stage meant that bright lights blinded me if I looked anywhere but at the back of the speaker's head. I became so exhausted my mind couldn't even process the words. The room began to spin. I tried to count everyone in the room, I tried singing to myself.
I did not actually fall asleep but my head dipped down at one point. After the speeches, the Biden, Geitner, Duncan and the other panelists took questions from the audience. This was much more interesting and dynamic. I woke right up. It was as if I had been in a trance for the speeches.
Afterwards, my roommate calls me dying of laughter. She had been eating lunch, looking up at the TV, and started laughing at this idiot girl falling asleep on screen. Then she thought to herself, "That girl kind of looks like Rosalee...Wait. That IS Rosalee!"
She, of course, told everyone she was with. By the time I returned to my floor that night, every one of our friends knew the story and started laughing when the saw me. Luckily, I realize how ridiculous this situation was. I'm laughing at myself just thinking about it.
I fell asleep on TV while listening to Joe Biden's speech and am now known as That Girl Who Fell Asleep.
So now I'm back here, better late than never, to tell my tale of mystery and intrigue. Ok, there was no mystery or intrigue. There was plenty of comedy, however. It is experiences such as the one I am about to recound that makes me think that someone should just follow me around with a video camera to record all the ridiculous shit that happens in my life, most of which ends in my own humiliation. My roommate now asks me every day after classes, not how my day went but what embarrassing situation I got myself into that day because I always have a story to tell that involves my public humiliation. It's a good thing I can laugh at myself.
Anyway, moving on to Joe Biden.
There are a few facts that need to be explained before I begin my tale. First, I am a college student. This means that I have a shitty sleep schedule. For example, last night I stayed up until 3:30 AM and woke up at 9:30 AM. I considered that I good night of sleep. Last Tuesday night I believe I did not go to sleep until about 3:00 AM but unlike today I had to wake up at 7:00 AM to go see Joe Biden. Normally I do not worry about only getting four hours of sleep. What is black coffee for if not a substitute for a normal sleep schedule.
Here's an interesting fact about black coffee that I have learned: Coffee helps keep one awake; it is my drug of choice to make up for my shitty sleep schedule, however, it only works on one important condition--that said coffee is consumed continually, multiple cups over several hours. Then, of course, you must set aside a few hours for an unhealthy crash but that is not to be worried about. College students always find time for impromptu naps.
Back to The Morning of Joe Biden. The second fact that should be explained: I did not have sufficient black coffee in my system that morning. I got a good start, a fairly strong cup consumed while walking to the Student Center. Then, I had to stand in line to get in. My coffee ran out. I could not leave the line. I had no means to fill my coffee cup. This is when I began to panic. They gave me free fruit snacks, though, so this assuaged my fears for a while.
Then, they separated students from non-students. I met up with the girl I met buying the tickets (which were actually free for students but we had to stand in a line). She looked much better off than I did, smily and bubbly and all the things I should have been because anyone who knows me knows that I am nothing if not a politics nerd. We were walking into the auditorium when we were approached by a man in an expensive suit.
"Would you ladies like to sit on stage this morning?" he asked. I glanced at my friend. Here is what was going through my head: I NEED COFFEE I NEED COFFEE I NEED COFFEE Stage? COFFEE Would that mean I would be mere feet from Joe Biden? COFFEE COFFEE Wait. Stage? COFFEE This event will most likely be televised. COFFEE COFFEE COFFEE Did I put on makeup? Yes, but I NEED COFFEE Do not want to be on stage. COFFEE Could sit off to side, still be near Joe Biden and not ever on TV. COFFEE COFFEE I NEED COFFEE RIGHT NOW
"Ok, sure," my friend answered unaware that my mind had just undergone such a debate. And so we were led off to the stage where similarly shocked prisoners were already seated. There were only two open seats. Here is how the stage was set up: a podium on one side, three stools in the middle, and a table set up with microphones on the other side. I was under the impression that this would be like a Town Hall Meeting I assumed that Joe Biden and the Secretaries of Education and Treasury would be seated at the table. I thought if I took the seat behind the table I would surely be on television. And so I chose the seat behind the podium, slightly rised because it was the second row of stage seating.
I did not know that there would be long speeches given from the podium. I thought the podium would be used to introduce the event and the speakers, who would then stay seated answering questions from the stools or the table. Oh, how I was wrong.
Not only did all three speakers give long speeches from the podium but because of the camera angle zoomed in somewhat, I was the only person on stage to be on television for the majority of said speeches. Thank God, I had put some small amount of effort into my appearance that morning. I had put on a cute but conservative sweater, a high wasted skirt, and my favorite boots. I had even put on eyeshadow, demure and neutral but enough to actually enhance my sleepy eyes. My roommate later told me that I looked like Audrey Hepburn (well she said, "that girl in the picture over your desk" because she didn't know who Audrey was, which is a travesty but I forgave her because, even though she didn't know it, saying that I resembled Audrey in any way is enough to make me love you forever).
Of course, I must elaborate. I looked like a very sleepy Audrey Hepburn.
Halfway through the Vice President Biden's speech, the first of three, my eyes started to feel heavy. I didn't worry too much, I was actually interested in listening to the Vice President's speech. I could make it through, I thought. Mind over matter.
Well, here's the thing about trying to stay awake on four hours of sleep and only one cup of coffee, it's hard and you need extreme distraction. As interested as I was in the Vice President's, Secretary Geiner's, and Secretary Duncan's speeches, staring at the back of their heads was not particularly interesting. The situations escalated quickly. Sitting on the stage meant that bright lights blinded me if I looked anywhere but at the back of the speaker's head. I became so exhausted my mind couldn't even process the words. The room began to spin. I tried to count everyone in the room, I tried singing to myself.
I did not actually fall asleep but my head dipped down at one point. After the speeches, the Biden, Geitner, Duncan and the other panelists took questions from the audience. This was much more interesting and dynamic. I woke right up. It was as if I had been in a trance for the speeches.
Afterwards, my roommate calls me dying of laughter. She had been eating lunch, looking up at the TV, and started laughing at this idiot girl falling asleep on screen. Then she thought to herself, "That girl kind of looks like Rosalee...Wait. That IS Rosalee!"
She, of course, told everyone she was with. By the time I returned to my floor that night, every one of our friends knew the story and started laughing when the saw me. Luckily, I realize how ridiculous this situation was. I'm laughing at myself just thinking about it.
I fell asleep on TV while listening to Joe Biden's speech and am now known as That Girl Who Fell Asleep.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Off to See Joe Biden
I wrote that title with the tune to "Off to See the Wizard" in my mind. I am picturing myself as Dorothy, skipping down the Yellow Brick Road and singing gaily all the way (minus all the witch nonsense). Yes, I am off to see Vice President Joe Biden. The Vice President is coming to my school along with Treasury Secretary Timothy Geitner and Education Secretary Whatshisname Duncan for a Middle Class Task Force Event.
I couldn't be more excited. This is my first political event of my college career. Really it's my first political event of my life. And I hope it will be the first of many. Today the Vice President and Secretaries Gietner and Duncan will be talking about education, its importance and affordability. As a college student studying at this institution thanks to the generosity of financial aid and Johns Hopkins, this issue affects me directly.
I'll be back here later to post my thoughts and an overviews.
I couldn't be more excited. This is my first political event of my college career. Really it's my first political event of my life. And I hope it will be the first of many. Today the Vice President and Secretaries Gietner and Duncan will be talking about education, its importance and affordability. As a college student studying at this institution thanks to the generosity of financial aid and Johns Hopkins, this issue affects me directly.
I'll be back here later to post my thoughts and an overviews.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Skipping Over Some Details, a Great Professor
I know I should be writing a true account of my life, complete with details and insights, but...there are some things I don't want to write about here. I'm usually totally open here. I've talked about sex, drugs, alcohol, everything. But right now there are some things I'm keeping to myself. I've talked about how I've struggled with bottling things up. Well, I guess this is proof. I'm not just omitting these thoughts and events from my blog. I haven't shared them with anyone including my two best friends, my sister, and my brother. And so I am just going to say that, I know it's unhealthy and I should talk to someone even if I can't write about it here but I'm just not ready right now.
Moving on. There are some things I would like to write about. Actually, I could probably write for hours right now because there are so many new things in my life that I'm excited about. But I'm just going to choose one thing - my Political Theory class.
Just out of interest, before writing up this blog post, which I planned on being very positive about the class and the teacher, I decided to check out Rate My Professor to see what others thought. Some interesting views on his class. I, for one, LOVE it.
I've written about it before because I was just so surprised and now, after my second "lecture," I only have more positive things to say. As I said in one of my earlier posts, I thought this class would be boring but it's a Political Theory class taught by a Philosophy professor. I don't care what a handful of previous disgruntled students (who probably did poorly in the class) said on a rating site, Professor Thomas appears not only to be funny and engaging but also extremely intelligent. [Note: Most of the reviews were indeed just as positive as my opinion but there were a few infantile responses that lead me to believe that they did poorly in the class and blamed the professor when they didn't keep up with the reading or participate in class].
Here are a few of the notes I took today:
-How do we come to have an interest in others, not in our gene pool (biological family), when from an evolutionary standpoint we only have an emotional investment in our own fates and the fates of our offsprings/biological family?
- Given that everyone is committed to his or her self-interest, does that mean we are committed as such at the expense of others? Can we be committed to our own self-interest without being selfish?
- What makes society viable? Basic Trust in each other enough?
- Can there be moral decency in a world where anonymity reigns supreme? Can society be stable if, when under the cloak of anonymity, most people would do nothing to help another?
We used the story of Kitty Genovese as an example to discuss these themes. Here is Kitty Genovese's story: When walking from the parking lot to her apartment in Queens, Kitty Genovese was attacked three times and eventually killed. The attacks took place in plain view of other apartments on the street and Kitty screamed for help. Lights turned on in windows, a total of 38 people witnessed the three attacks. Not one called the police, not after the first attack nor after the second. No call was made until after Kitty Genovese was already dead.
Why didn't those 38 people call the police? Are we all basically, biologically selfish?
It was a fascinating discussion, and I call it a discussion class even though it is a large lecture hall because Professor Thomas was constantly walking up and down the aisle calling on students for our opinions. He wasn't lecturing us at all but engaging in a lively discourse with us. And throughout the class he was joking and telling stories. I've come to the conclusion that he is just a little bit crazy because at several points he was yelling and jumping around. But it all somehow worked to make the class more engaged. Next semester I plan on trying to take his Philosophy 191 class because so far this single class has been the best academic experience of my life.
This is what college is all about.
Moving on. There are some things I would like to write about. Actually, I could probably write for hours right now because there are so many new things in my life that I'm excited about. But I'm just going to choose one thing - my Political Theory class.
Just out of interest, before writing up this blog post, which I planned on being very positive about the class and the teacher, I decided to check out Rate My Professor to see what others thought. Some interesting views on his class. I, for one, LOVE it.
I've written about it before because I was just so surprised and now, after my second "lecture," I only have more positive things to say. As I said in one of my earlier posts, I thought this class would be boring but it's a Political Theory class taught by a Philosophy professor. I don't care what a handful of previous disgruntled students (who probably did poorly in the class) said on a rating site, Professor Thomas appears not only to be funny and engaging but also extremely intelligent. [Note: Most of the reviews were indeed just as positive as my opinion but there were a few infantile responses that lead me to believe that they did poorly in the class and blamed the professor when they didn't keep up with the reading or participate in class].
Here are a few of the notes I took today:
-How do we come to have an interest in others, not in our gene pool (biological family), when from an evolutionary standpoint we only have an emotional investment in our own fates and the fates of our offsprings/biological family?
- Given that everyone is committed to his or her self-interest, does that mean we are committed as such at the expense of others? Can we be committed to our own self-interest without being selfish?
- What makes society viable? Basic Trust in each other enough?
- Can there be moral decency in a world where anonymity reigns supreme? Can society be stable if, when under the cloak of anonymity, most people would do nothing to help another?
We used the story of Kitty Genovese as an example to discuss these themes. Here is Kitty Genovese's story: When walking from the parking lot to her apartment in Queens, Kitty Genovese was attacked three times and eventually killed. The attacks took place in plain view of other apartments on the street and Kitty screamed for help. Lights turned on in windows, a total of 38 people witnessed the three attacks. Not one called the police, not after the first attack nor after the second. No call was made until after Kitty Genovese was already dead.
Why didn't those 38 people call the police? Are we all basically, biologically selfish?
It was a fascinating discussion, and I call it a discussion class even though it is a large lecture hall because Professor Thomas was constantly walking up and down the aisle calling on students for our opinions. He wasn't lecturing us at all but engaging in a lively discourse with us. And throughout the class he was joking and telling stories. I've come to the conclusion that he is just a little bit crazy because at several points he was yelling and jumping around. But it all somehow worked to make the class more engaged. Next semester I plan on trying to take his Philosophy 191 class because so far this single class has been the best academic experience of my life.
This is what college is all about.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Friends and Frats
I realize I am not writing every day anymore but college it turns out is like one, long continuous social event. I'm never really alone, I'm always with people even if I'm in my boxer shorts. Usually I'm the sort of person who needs my alone time but I'm finding that so far I'm loving all the excitement. I'm sure it will wear off in a few weeks but right now I'm just glad to have such great new friends.
I feel like so much has happened since I last updated. I've gone out to more overly-crowded and overly-stereotypical frat parties. I've made a ton of new friends, specifically some really awesome people on my floor. And I've gone to my first college football game.
I was starting to worry that my floor wouldn't become friends. People kept their doors closed and any friendships had been either pre-existing or early-born and early-closed. But Lisa and I kept our door open in an effort to be social that also doubled as a means to coax a nonexistent breeze through our stifling hot little room. Since my dorm is right across from the boys' bathroom we caught every guy walking past and quickly struck up conversations and started making friends. It seems so strange to think that it was only Thursday that we first hung out with the boys from 725 and the girls from 715. Now it feels like we've been friends for so long. We've already celebrated a birthday together and have inside jokes and planned a future business endeavor.
I'm still adjusting to living several states away from my best friends. Video chat, the great invention of the 21st century, can only do so much. It's hard for me to get a text from a distraught friend and not be able to be by her side to comfort her. Sigh.
Overall, though, I'm having fun. Sometimes I just stop in my tracks and think to myself, "This is just so COLLEGE," because really, everything I've heard about college has turned out to be true. From the slutty girls and creeper guys at the frat parties to the cheap beer to the drunken school spirit on game day (drinking before noon when still hungover from the night before) to the dormcest*.
In other news, my mom won a gold medal at Worlds in Vienna for rowing. She's been competing in World Championships with her crew team all week and she came in first in one of her races. Pretty fucking amazing.
That's all for today. It's the third day of my four day weekend so I'm taking it easy and planning on actually getting some work done because that's part of college, too. You know, learning and shit.
*Hooking up with someone on your floor. I may or may not be guilty of such a charge. And by "may or may not" I mean...definitely guilty. But that's whole different can of worms that I'm just letting sit unnoticed for a while so I can enjoy my life.
I feel like so much has happened since I last updated. I've gone out to more overly-crowded and overly-stereotypical frat parties. I've made a ton of new friends, specifically some really awesome people on my floor. And I've gone to my first college football game.
I was starting to worry that my floor wouldn't become friends. People kept their doors closed and any friendships had been either pre-existing or early-born and early-closed. But Lisa and I kept our door open in an effort to be social that also doubled as a means to coax a nonexistent breeze through our stifling hot little room. Since my dorm is right across from the boys' bathroom we caught every guy walking past and quickly struck up conversations and started making friends. It seems so strange to think that it was only Thursday that we first hung out with the boys from 725 and the girls from 715. Now it feels like we've been friends for so long. We've already celebrated a birthday together and have inside jokes and planned a future business endeavor.
I'm still adjusting to living several states away from my best friends. Video chat, the great invention of the 21st century, can only do so much. It's hard for me to get a text from a distraught friend and not be able to be by her side to comfort her. Sigh.
Overall, though, I'm having fun. Sometimes I just stop in my tracks and think to myself, "This is just so COLLEGE," because really, everything I've heard about college has turned out to be true. From the slutty girls and creeper guys at the frat parties to the cheap beer to the drunken school spirit on game day (drinking before noon when still hungover from the night before) to the dormcest*.
In other news, my mom won a gold medal at Worlds in Vienna for rowing. She's been competing in World Championships with her crew team all week and she came in first in one of her races. Pretty fucking amazing.
That's all for today. It's the third day of my four day weekend so I'm taking it easy and planning on actually getting some work done because that's part of college, too. You know, learning and shit.
*Hooking up with someone on your floor. I may or may not be guilty of such a charge. And by "may or may not" I mean...definitely guilty. But that's whole different can of worms that I'm just letting sit unnoticed for a while so I can enjoy my life.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Living the Life
Yes, I am eating chocolate for breakfast. This is what college is all about.
That's really all I have to say at the moment. It tastes pretty yummy.
That's really all I have to say at the moment. It tastes pretty yummy.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
I Can Be Smart, Too?
College is supposed to make you smarter but I fear it has had the opposite effect. I am having trouble stringing together coherent thoughts to make up a record of my day. Instead I'll just use bullet points.
Today I:
- burned my thumb making my third cup of super-strong coffee illegally in my room (thank God for the French Press!!)
- learned to read and write five Arabic letters
- spent almost three hundred dollars on text books just for two classes
- napped
- sat in the grass on the quad and felt collegiate
- was surprised by a professor
Ok, that last one deserves some explanation because I'm actually kind of excited about it. I signed up for a political science class on a whim. I loved reading about politics in the news and hoped to one day report on international politics so I thought it would be nice to know more about the core of modern and traditional politics. So I thought I'd start with Political Theory. John Locke, Whatshisname Hobbs, and the likes. I wasn't expecting it to be a fun class. I thought it would be interesting but not fun by any means.
Then I see that the class is in Gifford Theater, a lecture class. Definitely not a fun class, I thought. But I sat down with my pen and clean new notebook prepared to learn. There were a lot of sophomores and upperclassmen but I think it was a pretty good mix of grades, which is nice. The professor walked in, an older man of color. I have horrible eyesight and was sitting towards the back of the theater so I couldn't quite tell if he was black or Indian or Middle Easter or what. But he spoke with a very distinctive accent. Great, I thought, a lecture with a professor I'm going to have trouble understanding.
But then he started asking questions. Not exactly how most lecture classes begin. "What do you think of evolutionary theory?" he asked the class. I had a moment of terror. Was I in the wrong class? Was this some biology class? What does Darwin have to do with political theory?
From that first, seemingly random question, he was off and running and he was pulling the class along with him. He wasn't lecturing us in any way, he was engaging us, challenging us to think. Are humans selfishi? Are humans essentially good but scared to help each other? Look at the Kitty Genovese case, 38 witnesses to a rape and not one called the police. Why?
It was a fascinating discussion on its own but Professor Thomas made it exciting and fun. He kept us on our toes, pointing to random students and asking their opinions. Joking around with us. He said "fuck" and "shit" and didn't use the pretentious vocabulary of academia even though I could tell he was extremely intelligent. At one point he gave one student the finger as a joke.
I have never been more shocked but in a great way. Now, I'm looking forward to the rest of the semester, eager to see what Professor Thomas comes up with next.
I think this is what I'm going to love the most about college: being surprised and challenged and engaged by great academic experiences.
Ok, now I have to memorize all the various forms of five Arabic letters and take a Grammar Slammer quiz for my Communications class (apparently some people can get to college and not know grammar...and they want to be journalists?).
Today I:
- burned my thumb making my third cup of super-strong coffee illegally in my room (thank God for the French Press!!)
- learned to read and write five Arabic letters
- spent almost three hundred dollars on text books just for two classes
- napped
- sat in the grass on the quad and felt collegiate
- was surprised by a professor
Ok, that last one deserves some explanation because I'm actually kind of excited about it. I signed up for a political science class on a whim. I loved reading about politics in the news and hoped to one day report on international politics so I thought it would be nice to know more about the core of modern and traditional politics. So I thought I'd start with Political Theory. John Locke, Whatshisname Hobbs, and the likes. I wasn't expecting it to be a fun class. I thought it would be interesting but not fun by any means.
Then I see that the class is in Gifford Theater, a lecture class. Definitely not a fun class, I thought. But I sat down with my pen and clean new notebook prepared to learn. There were a lot of sophomores and upperclassmen but I think it was a pretty good mix of grades, which is nice. The professor walked in, an older man of color. I have horrible eyesight and was sitting towards the back of the theater so I couldn't quite tell if he was black or Indian or Middle Easter or what. But he spoke with a very distinctive accent. Great, I thought, a lecture with a professor I'm going to have trouble understanding.
But then he started asking questions. Not exactly how most lecture classes begin. "What do you think of evolutionary theory?" he asked the class. I had a moment of terror. Was I in the wrong class? Was this some biology class? What does Darwin have to do with political theory?
From that first, seemingly random question, he was off and running and he was pulling the class along with him. He wasn't lecturing us in any way, he was engaging us, challenging us to think. Are humans selfishi? Are humans essentially good but scared to help each other? Look at the Kitty Genovese case, 38 witnesses to a rape and not one called the police. Why?
It was a fascinating discussion on its own but Professor Thomas made it exciting and fun. He kept us on our toes, pointing to random students and asking their opinions. Joking around with us. He said "fuck" and "shit" and didn't use the pretentious vocabulary of academia even though I could tell he was extremely intelligent. At one point he gave one student the finger as a joke.
I have never been more shocked but in a great way. Now, I'm looking forward to the rest of the semester, eager to see what Professor Thomas comes up with next.
I think this is what I'm going to love the most about college: being surprised and challenged and engaged by great academic experiences.
Ok, now I have to memorize all the various forms of five Arabic letters and take a Grammar Slammer quiz for my Communications class (apparently some people can get to college and not know grammar...and they want to be journalists?).
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