We got our butts whooped over the weekend. 6 - 89. We never scored a try (touchdown for those non-rugby term inclined folks), only two kicks (field goals). But hey, they're like the only NCAA Division 1 women's rugby team in the Midwest (being used as a very general term, extending from Ohio to Oklahoma) and we're a club sport. We don't have a real coach. Or a dedicated pitch (field). Or freaking locker rooms where you can't wear spikes. I dunno. I overheard a vet telling another vet that we'd turned them down to play for the past 4 years. Now I know why.
One thing that bothered me a lot in game was that we stopped caring after a certain point. Girls stopped chasing people or trying to tackle them and didn't give 100%. One time I tried to chase a girl down and I left my spot to do so. I'm a wing so that means I'm the last person on one of the sides. I have to make sure no one gets by me on the outside b/c no one else will be there to stop her. I understand the importance of this and try my best to stay there. But when the person with the ball has broken through our defense and none of her back line is following her through us she isn't going to throw it back to them and get it out to the edges. At this point I think it's ok for me to run and try to tackle her, or at least get a hand under the ball to prevent her from scoring (to get a try in rugby you must touch the ball to the ground, not just get it in the scoring area like football does with touchdowns). As I was running (and catching her) a teammate yells at me to stop and get back to my spot. So I slow down and jog over to the rest of the team (we gather in the try zone while they attempt for a 2 point kick). I tell the girl that yelled at me that no one else was chasing the girl that scored so I had to do something. She says I never would have caught her. I say at least I tried. Our scrumhalf hears us at this point and yells at us to not talk to each other like that and apologize immediately. I do so and receive a less than sincere apology from the other girl. The whole situation makes me mad. The person who scored wasn't remarkably fast, she just broke through. She wasn't too close to me but I was sprinting towards her and probably would have caught her as she tried to score. I could have interfered, I could have stopped this girl from scoring. And I didn't because someone yelled at me to get back in my place.
It makes me mad and it's been about five days. Saw the girl who yelled at me at practice the other day. We had to work together to do a drill. I was less than pleased. It's really a shame too b/c at practices before this we got along well and were often put in lines together during games. Now I want very little to do with her.
Practice actually went really well yesterday. We did a lot of new drills and everyone who showed up was really into it and worked hard. I got nice and muddy and was thoroughly tired after just an hour of practice. It was just a really good practice overall. I had lost faith in the team after the way I was treated over the weekend but this practice really lifted my spirits.
10.21.2009
10.09.2009
Rugby 3
Since my last post I've been to a tournament and a game at home. We've won 3 of 4 games and are looking forward to playing Topeka this weekend...whom we've never played. It's unclear if this is because they didn't have a team before now or we just have never played them. Regardless, I'm glad it's at home instead of being there. That will give us a bit more confidence.
Ok, aside, the people sitting in front of me as I type this on the bus are really disgusting. It's a bus and they're all over each other. Cut. It. Out.
Anyway, back to rugby talk. The tournament was fun. I played two halves, just like all the other rookies. I was on wing, which I like...except for the whole trying to balance being on offense and defense. You see, as wing you have to be there for your teammates when they're bringing the ball up the field but you also have to be the last line of defense on the side when you're trying to defend your goal. So you end up running all over the place. Go up, shift right so you're closer to your teammates. Shift left since now everyone is over here. Run up with the ball, stay on the pitch, don't get knocked out of play. Go back, defend the goal, shift left, shift right, shift left FASTER. Then you're facing 3 girls any of whom could rush you at any time and the rest of your team is on the other side of the field. Your goal is to stop the ball, but they have a huge advantage just by sheer numbers.
The game was ok...we played down to their level so we were sloppy and terrible (hey, just like the people in front of me!). We still won though.
Practice has been tough. I messed up my ankle a while ago and I subconsciously changed the way I run to do so. This ended up hurting my upper leg...which takes longer to heal. So I have issues running. We did sprints and ran more than usual at practice yesterday and as a result I've been limping all week. At least we didn't run the mile like we were supposed to yesterday.
Well that's all the rugby news I've got. I'm sick. I'm tired. I'm on cough meds and taking cough drops like candy. I can't think. You're really lucky you got that much out of me today.
Ok, aside, the people sitting in front of me as I type this on the bus are really disgusting. It's a bus and they're all over each other. Cut. It. Out.
Anyway, back to rugby talk. The tournament was fun. I played two halves, just like all the other rookies. I was on wing, which I like...except for the whole trying to balance being on offense and defense. You see, as wing you have to be there for your teammates when they're bringing the ball up the field but you also have to be the last line of defense on the side when you're trying to defend your goal. So you end up running all over the place. Go up, shift right so you're closer to your teammates. Shift left since now everyone is over here. Run up with the ball, stay on the pitch, don't get knocked out of play. Go back, defend the goal, shift left, shift right, shift left FASTER. Then you're facing 3 girls any of whom could rush you at any time and the rest of your team is on the other side of the field. Your goal is to stop the ball, but they have a huge advantage just by sheer numbers.
The game was ok...we played down to their level so we were sloppy and terrible (hey, just like the people in front of me!). We still won though.
Practice has been tough. I messed up my ankle a while ago and I subconsciously changed the way I run to do so. This ended up hurting my upper leg...which takes longer to heal. So I have issues running. We did sprints and ran more than usual at practice yesterday and as a result I've been limping all week. At least we didn't run the mile like we were supposed to yesterday.
Well that's all the rugby news I've got. I'm sick. I'm tired. I'm on cough meds and taking cough drops like candy. I can't think. You're really lucky you got that much out of me today.
9.22.2009
Speaking Up
I am taking one journalism class this semester. It is titled Cross Cultural Journalism. So far we have focused mainly on race and how to avoid making assumptions when reporting. It's almost like sensitivity training, but for reporting on "hot topic" issues. Race, gender, class, etc. The professor encourages us to speak up and voice our opinions, but I've never found a reason to. Until today.
There was a story in what looked to be a more modern style college newspaper that he posted on the screen. The headline said something about immigrants struggling to go to college. The deck (or secondary headline or the other words before the story or whatever makes sense to you) was two parts The first: cost - some immigrants send money back to their families find it difficult to afford college. Then the other: financial aid - illegals are not eligible for scholarships.
Of course, none of this is verbatim, so please don't think that it was quite as un-PC as I was, but it was pretty darn close. Anyway, what really got the class talking was the large photo beneath both of those. A Mexican student (he identified himself as Mexican in the caption below the photo) taking notes in a Geometry class. That's it. That's all it was. But the class went on a field day.
Since the photo was so close to the two words immigrants and illegals, the assumption that will be made (worst case scenario, of course) is that this student is an illegal immigrant. The students started going off on how the photographer should have taken a photo of something else. Then I realized something.
Just change the layout. Move the two decks to below the photo and split them up so they hover over their own story. Put a small graphic in the middle (perhaps some statistics) so there is a solid division. It's very common in "180" reports or in sports stories where one simply reports on the most recent game and the other is some sort of interest story about the team.
That layout would work perfectly here. It would break up the word "immigration" and "illegals" perfectly. They would no longer be associated with each other. The intent of both articles would still be intact and everyone could shut up about it being the photographers fault. The photo is just a student taking notes. Holy crap, scandalous! But my classmates just went on and on about the quality of the caption and the intent of picture and despite my raised hand, I never got called on. I am very tempted to email the class and spam their inboxes being like, "Look. It's the stupid page editor's fault. The editor didn't see those two words as an issue. If she just did (insert what I said above) everything would be fine. Stop yelling at the photog. They usually aren't to blame. 'Go take a picture of this student.' The result? A decent photo of the student where you can see his eyes and most of his face and goes along with the story. It's not our fault there's a headline up there. 'Go to this rally.' The result? Shots of people worked up about something, most likely with signs. It's not our fault the signs aren't PC. It's a rally. You want drama, you want polarizing statements."
Rawr rawr rawr. I really just wanted to say that because I know a few photographers in the room were thinking it (god, our professor singled us out so much today). It just seems unfair. Photos are what grab people's attention. Why don't we get more respect?
There was a story in what looked to be a more modern style college newspaper that he posted on the screen. The headline said something about immigrants struggling to go to college. The deck (or secondary headline or the other words before the story or whatever makes sense to you) was two parts The first: cost - some immigrants send money back to their families find it difficult to afford college. Then the other: financial aid - illegals are not eligible for scholarships.
Of course, none of this is verbatim, so please don't think that it was quite as un-PC as I was, but it was pretty darn close. Anyway, what really got the class talking was the large photo beneath both of those. A Mexican student (he identified himself as Mexican in the caption below the photo) taking notes in a Geometry class. That's it. That's all it was. But the class went on a field day.
Since the photo was so close to the two words immigrants and illegals, the assumption that will be made (worst case scenario, of course) is that this student is an illegal immigrant. The students started going off on how the photographer should have taken a photo of something else. Then I realized something.
Just change the layout. Move the two decks to below the photo and split them up so they hover over their own story. Put a small graphic in the middle (perhaps some statistics) so there is a solid division. It's very common in "180" reports or in sports stories where one simply reports on the most recent game and the other is some sort of interest story about the team.
That layout would work perfectly here. It would break up the word "immigration" and "illegals" perfectly. They would no longer be associated with each other. The intent of both articles would still be intact and everyone could shut up about it being the photographers fault. The photo is just a student taking notes. Holy crap, scandalous! But my classmates just went on and on about the quality of the caption and the intent of picture and despite my raised hand, I never got called on. I am very tempted to email the class and spam their inboxes being like, "Look. It's the stupid page editor's fault. The editor didn't see those two words as an issue. If she just did (insert what I said above) everything would be fine. Stop yelling at the photog. They usually aren't to blame. 'Go take a picture of this student.' The result? A decent photo of the student where you can see his eyes and most of his face and goes along with the story. It's not our fault there's a headline up there. 'Go to this rally.' The result? Shots of people worked up about something, most likely with signs. It's not our fault the signs aren't PC. It's a rally. You want drama, you want polarizing statements."
Rawr rawr rawr. I really just wanted to say that because I know a few photographers in the room were thinking it (god, our professor singled us out so much today). It just seems unfair. Photos are what grab people's attention. Why don't we get more respect?
9.21.2009
Racing Worlds
On Mondays and Wednesdays my class ends at 3:15. If I am one of the last to leave class and walk slowly I make it to the bus stop at 3:20. The bus pulls up mere seconds before I arrive. I get on, find a seat and wait for ten minutes before it pulls away and takes me back to the apartment complex. During these ten minutes I watch people from behind my polarized sunglasses.
I am usually entertained by sorority girls outside the window. They gather by the bus in a group of five or more, talking animatedly. I don't know what they're saying so I usually make up stories in my head so long as they correspond with their hand gestures. Sometimes I'll see some odd sights. Like one time a girl tried to get on to the bus but the doors were closed. She was so embarrassed she waited for a later bus, I think. Or some guys tossing a football back and forth on their way to the field by our rec center. One didn't aim too well and someone not in their group caught it. And then started running. So the group ran after him. That was a bit strange.
Today my interest was piqued by someone who got on my bus. I didn't pay too much attention to him, simply shifted my bag so it wasn't in his way as he walked down the aisle. He had a faded light blue shirt on with an equally as faded decal on the left where a pocket would be. In yellow to large letters. GT. In black type. American. In italicized red cursive. Simply Fast! It was only a glimpse, so I wasn't too sure about the American and Simply Fast!, but I saw the GT and enough similar letters to have an inkling I was right. I turned around to see the back of his shirt. Had he been wearing his backpack like a normal person, I wouldn't have seen the confirmation I needed, but his backpack was slung from his right shoulder exposing the same, albeit larger, decal on the back.
The same chassis I used to race! In quarter midgets my family was very close to the then owners of GT American. I wondered how he came to have this shirt and what it meant to him. I wondered what his story was. How much we would have in common. Here's the thing though. I couldn't reach out to him.
Racing is touchy. For some people, once they leave the sport, they never look back. What if this kid didn't like racing anymore and was only wearing the shirt because he liked the color and it was laundry day? What if he was a different person now and didn't want to be reminded of when he raced? Sometimes kids only race because their parents want them to. Sometimes they are forced out of it because their parents want something else for them.
I know half of you are going, "What? You were just scared. Next time talk to him." But that's the thing. If he were still in racing, wouldn't he have worn other racing shirts? And since I take this same bus every Monday and Wednesday, wouldn't I have seen him wear a racing shirt before? I recognized his face, once I looked. Wouldn't I have caught a glimpse of him in a different racing shirt on one of the other buses I take? There's a reason we stop wearing racing shirts. Once you leave that world, it's really hard to go back. Especially when someone you don't know comes up to you and starts tearing into that world. You have your friends in school, your friends in your neighborhood, your friends in racing. When you try and mix them...it's like oil and water. And then imagine a stranger coming in and trying to find out about that world. It's not something you can just go up to someone and ask, especially if they seem like they're trying to hide it.
I usually only wear racing shirts at the race track or to sleep in, but come winter I pull out my Tulsa Shootout hoodie and wear it like a second skin. It makes me wonder what will happen the first chill. Since I'm displaying it a little louder, will he notice and approach me? Or will I have my sunglasses on, pretending to be in my own little world, pushing him away?
I am usually entertained by sorority girls outside the window. They gather by the bus in a group of five or more, talking animatedly. I don't know what they're saying so I usually make up stories in my head so long as they correspond with their hand gestures. Sometimes I'll see some odd sights. Like one time a girl tried to get on to the bus but the doors were closed. She was so embarrassed she waited for a later bus, I think. Or some guys tossing a football back and forth on their way to the field by our rec center. One didn't aim too well and someone not in their group caught it. And then started running. So the group ran after him. That was a bit strange.
Today my interest was piqued by someone who got on my bus. I didn't pay too much attention to him, simply shifted my bag so it wasn't in his way as he walked down the aisle. He had a faded light blue shirt on with an equally as faded decal on the left where a pocket would be. In yellow to large letters. GT. In black type. American. In italicized red cursive. Simply Fast! It was only a glimpse, so I wasn't too sure about the American and Simply Fast!, but I saw the GT and enough similar letters to have an inkling I was right. I turned around to see the back of his shirt. Had he been wearing his backpack like a normal person, I wouldn't have seen the confirmation I needed, but his backpack was slung from his right shoulder exposing the same, albeit larger, decal on the back.
The same chassis I used to race! In quarter midgets my family was very close to the then owners of GT American. I wondered how he came to have this shirt and what it meant to him. I wondered what his story was. How much we would have in common. Here's the thing though. I couldn't reach out to him.
Racing is touchy. For some people, once they leave the sport, they never look back. What if this kid didn't like racing anymore and was only wearing the shirt because he liked the color and it was laundry day? What if he was a different person now and didn't want to be reminded of when he raced? Sometimes kids only race because their parents want them to. Sometimes they are forced out of it because their parents want something else for them.
I know half of you are going, "What? You were just scared. Next time talk to him." But that's the thing. If he were still in racing, wouldn't he have worn other racing shirts? And since I take this same bus every Monday and Wednesday, wouldn't I have seen him wear a racing shirt before? I recognized his face, once I looked. Wouldn't I have caught a glimpse of him in a different racing shirt on one of the other buses I take? There's a reason we stop wearing racing shirts. Once you leave that world, it's really hard to go back. Especially when someone you don't know comes up to you and starts tearing into that world. You have your friends in school, your friends in your neighborhood, your friends in racing. When you try and mix them...it's like oil and water. And then imagine a stranger coming in and trying to find out about that world. It's not something you can just go up to someone and ask, especially if they seem like they're trying to hide it.
I usually only wear racing shirts at the race track or to sleep in, but come winter I pull out my Tulsa Shootout hoodie and wear it like a second skin. It makes me wonder what will happen the first chill. Since I'm displaying it a little louder, will he notice and approach me? Or will I have my sunglasses on, pretending to be in my own little world, pushing him away?
9.19.2009
Relationships in College: Part 2
I don't understand the draw of the friends with benefits. Well, ok, I do, but I don't see why anyone would want that. To me it seems like it would just lead into a big bad mess and you lose someone who was a friend or someone you could have had an actual relationship with.
But it seems that being friends with benefits is the name of the game these days. A and J, who used to date claim they are just friends now, but they are always all snuggley and holding hands. (update on that situation: A and J had a fight apparently over the friends with benefits situation. They are no longer friends.) R found a nice boy named P and almost started dating him until she figured out all he wanted was sex. So they stopped seeing each other...for all of a week. He's over right now. They're locked in her room. K recently broke up with her boyfriend and has been going on a lot of dates, but seems to like this one boy that she knew before...
What is the appeal of that? Just having someone familiar? Why not just causally date then? It's not a bad thing to be boyfriend and girlfriend, especially if that's what you want (in R's case, and in K's case too). You don't have to get all formal and serious about a relationship. It'll last a month or so and you can move on to the next one. Just for propriety's sake...say you're in a relationship! It's not that bad I promise! Well...no, let's not go there, my relationship issues have nothing to do with turning a friends with benefits situation into a casual relationship.
I dunno...it just kind of bugs me, I guess. I can see these girls, even if they aren't my friends, getting hurt. They put themselves in these situations and I can see how it's wrong or it's not what they want, but they do it anyway. I want to help but I don't know how to. Any advice? Should I just butt out?
But it seems that being friends with benefits is the name of the game these days. A and J, who used to date claim they are just friends now, but they are always all snuggley and holding hands. (update on that situation: A and J had a fight apparently over the friends with benefits situation. They are no longer friends.) R found a nice boy named P and almost started dating him until she figured out all he wanted was sex. So they stopped seeing each other...for all of a week. He's over right now. They're locked in her room. K recently broke up with her boyfriend and has been going on a lot of dates, but seems to like this one boy that she knew before...
What is the appeal of that? Just having someone familiar? Why not just causally date then? It's not a bad thing to be boyfriend and girlfriend, especially if that's what you want (in R's case, and in K's case too). You don't have to get all formal and serious about a relationship. It'll last a month or so and you can move on to the next one. Just for propriety's sake...say you're in a relationship! It's not that bad I promise! Well...no, let's not go there, my relationship issues have nothing to do with turning a friends with benefits situation into a casual relationship.
I dunno...it just kind of bugs me, I guess. I can see these girls, even if they aren't my friends, getting hurt. They put themselves in these situations and I can see how it's wrong or it's not what they want, but they do it anyway. I want to help but I don't know how to. Any advice? Should I just butt out?
9.17.2009
Apartment Advice
This year instead of living on campus I thought it would be a brilliant idea to live off campus to save money.
I started off working with E and her friend. We looked all over for 3 bedroom apartments that fit all the meticulous requirements E laid out for us. One week before we are supposed to go visit our short list of options, E says that she has talked it over with her parents and decided she shouldn't live off campus. That leaves me with her friend who I don't know and wasn't that into it to begin with...so we abandon that attempt.
I talk to my old roommate, A, to see what her plans are. She's been working with B. They didn't have a set plan yet, but figured they would get a house instead of an apartment. So I join the group, as do R and N. N later drops out because he has joined a frat. Since there are now 4 of us, we look at 4 bedroom apartments. Again they must meet a list of requirements. We find a good variety of apartments. However, due to A's inability to pay for anything more than 300/month, we end up at Campus View. We sign the leases without even taking a tour.
Summer starts. I try and get a hold of B to wish him happy birthday. I call back a few times over the next week, but he never answers. Finally, B calls me back. He has been kicked out of the university because his grades last semester were terrible (for various reasons: a death in the family, a two week illness and him slacking off after that). He can't live in the apartment anymore. We contact N who's been searching for a place to live. He agrees to take the place. This is where the trouble begins.
N parties and smokes. He also wanted to have a dog and a 5th person live with us. All these things violate the lease. After much drama (read: me putting my foot down) N decides to move out, along with R. Well, R doesn't move out...which causes the apartment to turn it into an all girls apartment.
Looking back, it didn't turn out that bad. R doesn't hate me anymore and K is really cool (the other girl they placed with us). A is actually the problem now since she has a cat and a lizard and two fish. Well R is a bit of a problem b/c she doesn't clean up after herself too much, but I cut her some slack b/c she works almost full time and is taking 15 credit hours.
I had a point with all this somewhere. Oh yeah. Don't try and find an apartment with people you don't know too much about. And even if you think you know them pretty well, they will mess something up. Guaranteed. I think if I live off campus next year that I will get a studio. I don't mind paying almost double the rent if it means I get to live the way I want. Tentatively I am hoping to live with L and K and a different E, but a lot of that is hinged on if K gets into law school at our university and if E is able to transfer. So we'll see. I'm keeping living alone off campus as my main choice.
I started off working with E and her friend. We looked all over for 3 bedroom apartments that fit all the meticulous requirements E laid out for us. One week before we are supposed to go visit our short list of options, E says that she has talked it over with her parents and decided she shouldn't live off campus. That leaves me with her friend who I don't know and wasn't that into it to begin with...so we abandon that attempt.
I talk to my old roommate, A, to see what her plans are. She's been working with B. They didn't have a set plan yet, but figured they would get a house instead of an apartment. So I join the group, as do R and N. N later drops out because he has joined a frat. Since there are now 4 of us, we look at 4 bedroom apartments. Again they must meet a list of requirements. We find a good variety of apartments. However, due to A's inability to pay for anything more than 300/month, we end up at Campus View. We sign the leases without even taking a tour.
Summer starts. I try and get a hold of B to wish him happy birthday. I call back a few times over the next week, but he never answers. Finally, B calls me back. He has been kicked out of the university because his grades last semester were terrible (for various reasons: a death in the family, a two week illness and him slacking off after that). He can't live in the apartment anymore. We contact N who's been searching for a place to live. He agrees to take the place. This is where the trouble begins.
N parties and smokes. He also wanted to have a dog and a 5th person live with us. All these things violate the lease. After much drama (read: me putting my foot down) N decides to move out, along with R. Well, R doesn't move out...which causes the apartment to turn it into an all girls apartment.
Looking back, it didn't turn out that bad. R doesn't hate me anymore and K is really cool (the other girl they placed with us). A is actually the problem now since she has a cat and a lizard and two fish. Well R is a bit of a problem b/c she doesn't clean up after herself too much, but I cut her some slack b/c she works almost full time and is taking 15 credit hours.
I had a point with all this somewhere. Oh yeah. Don't try and find an apartment with people you don't know too much about. And even if you think you know them pretty well, they will mess something up. Guaranteed. I think if I live off campus next year that I will get a studio. I don't mind paying almost double the rent if it means I get to live the way I want. Tentatively I am hoping to live with L and K and a different E, but a lot of that is hinged on if K gets into law school at our university and if E is able to transfer. So we'll see. I'm keeping living alone off campus as my main choice.
Rugby 2
Here's how I'm going to be doing this. Obviously, rugby will be very important to me from now on since I've decided to join the team and all. If you want regular posts, I'll still do those, but rugby has the potential to be my main topic from now on. I'll keep the titles as Rugby followed by a number. If it's a game, I'll follow that by a dash and "Mizzou v ___" or "___ v. Mizzou" depending on who is home.
Summary of Saturday's clinic: We did drills for an hour and a half before finally taking a water break. I think about half the people there got dehydrated - I know I did. I also got a minor concussion and took a few balls to the stomach (some people have bad aim...or I ran faster than they were expecting) and have a few bruises on my right arm. Oh, and I'm still pretty red and my face is peeling and I look lovely. Especially right now since I haven't put lotion on in a few hours. Nice. I didn't scrimmage b/c I felt like crap. I got the concussion, sat out for a couple of minutes, got back up, got in the drill and took a ball to the stomach. Excellent. We do a few more drills then go to lunch. I decide I'm fine to keep playing, and a few other veterans are like "ehhh....ok...." (one's majoring in physical therapy...she said I was fine but recommended that I sit out). Not long after we get back we start these weird running drills where we're just constantly running. It's 1pm and it's hot. We do that for about 30 minutes, non-stop. We get water. We go back and we start doing one-on-one tackling drills. That's when the headache hit and I just backed off after that. Drank 2 liters of water, didn't pee (yeah, that's called dehydration). Still had a headache. Got up, walked around, tried a few drills, still had a headache. Then they decide it's time to scrimmage. I sit out. By now one of our coaches(/player? not too sure yet) has called it quits too so she and I walk up and down the sidelines, following the play and she explains anything I have questions on. A good day for rookies, a boring day for veterans.
Tuesday's practice was ok until we decided to do a skeleton scrimmage. A skeleton scrimmage is where the bare minimum of players is on the field. Usually about 15, which is really the size of only one team in an actual game. In practice (so far) we play two hand touch or if you hear a whistle, you have been tackled. So at first I was on defense. On defense you need to stay in a flat line so there are no gaps created so a runner can't get through. We couldn't do that. When we switched to offense, I was outside center. (Need a visual? Hit up wiki - just google "rugby positions") I was the third person to get the ball. The second person is the inside center and the first person is the flyhalf. The centers rotate around the flyhalf who directs the plays. There are two wings who stay on their sides. We ended up being to the left of the flyhalf most of the time. The flyhalf and the wing on the left side were veterans and but the rest of us were rookies. I was the only rookie who attended the clinic on the line so the others kind of had no idea what they were doing. This was very evident when the inside center decided to play more where the outside center should. When the wing would tell her to move, she would get so close and so flat that the flyhalf would complain and she would move back so she was almost next to me. I'm not sure what she thinks she was doing, but she made me so frustrated. We could not move the ball forward at all b/c she would be so close to the flyhalf that we would have a forward pass which is illegal or she would be so far away the flyhalf could barely get the ball to her (or she was terrible at catching). I ended up taking the ball at one point and the wing and I kept tossing the ball back and forth to help move it forward. Wings don't do that. They're supposed to be given the ball when the defense has been drawn away from them. Wings just get the ball and sprint up the field. That's it. They catch, they aren't supposed to throw. But we did and it was the most our team moved the ball. Grah, it was so frustrating, I can't explain. And if I tried to take her spot b/c she would be where I was supposed to be she would yell at me, "You're supposed to be on the other side of me." "You're supposed to more over here, get here and I'll move back there."
Ok, I'm done ranting. It was a crappy practice, but now I know who I can't work with. It's unfortunate b/c when she's not in "game," that girl is good at catching and throwing and working on a team and moving around, adjusting to the situation. She's just not good there. Tomorrow will be better. We're supposed to start actually tackling each other in game now.
Summary of Saturday's clinic: We did drills for an hour and a half before finally taking a water break. I think about half the people there got dehydrated - I know I did. I also got a minor concussion and took a few balls to the stomach (some people have bad aim...or I ran faster than they were expecting) and have a few bruises on my right arm. Oh, and I'm still pretty red and my face is peeling and I look lovely. Especially right now since I haven't put lotion on in a few hours. Nice. I didn't scrimmage b/c I felt like crap. I got the concussion, sat out for a couple of minutes, got back up, got in the drill and took a ball to the stomach. Excellent. We do a few more drills then go to lunch. I decide I'm fine to keep playing, and a few other veterans are like "ehhh....ok...." (one's majoring in physical therapy...she said I was fine but recommended that I sit out). Not long after we get back we start these weird running drills where we're just constantly running. It's 1pm and it's hot. We do that for about 30 minutes, non-stop. We get water. We go back and we start doing one-on-one tackling drills. That's when the headache hit and I just backed off after that. Drank 2 liters of water, didn't pee (yeah, that's called dehydration). Still had a headache. Got up, walked around, tried a few drills, still had a headache. Then they decide it's time to scrimmage. I sit out. By now one of our coaches(/player? not too sure yet) has called it quits too so she and I walk up and down the sidelines, following the play and she explains anything I have questions on. A good day for rookies, a boring day for veterans.
Tuesday's practice was ok until we decided to do a skeleton scrimmage. A skeleton scrimmage is where the bare minimum of players is on the field. Usually about 15, which is really the size of only one team in an actual game. In practice (so far) we play two hand touch or if you hear a whistle, you have been tackled. So at first I was on defense. On defense you need to stay in a flat line so there are no gaps created so a runner can't get through. We couldn't do that. When we switched to offense, I was outside center. (Need a visual? Hit up wiki - just google "rugby positions") I was the third person to get the ball. The second person is the inside center and the first person is the flyhalf. The centers rotate around the flyhalf who directs the plays. There are two wings who stay on their sides. We ended up being to the left of the flyhalf most of the time. The flyhalf and the wing on the left side were veterans and but the rest of us were rookies. I was the only rookie who attended the clinic on the line so the others kind of had no idea what they were doing. This was very evident when the inside center decided to play more where the outside center should. When the wing would tell her to move, she would get so close and so flat that the flyhalf would complain and she would move back so she was almost next to me. I'm not sure what she thinks she was doing, but she made me so frustrated. We could not move the ball forward at all b/c she would be so close to the flyhalf that we would have a forward pass which is illegal or she would be so far away the flyhalf could barely get the ball to her (or she was terrible at catching). I ended up taking the ball at one point and the wing and I kept tossing the ball back and forth to help move it forward. Wings don't do that. They're supposed to be given the ball when the defense has been drawn away from them. Wings just get the ball and sprint up the field. That's it. They catch, they aren't supposed to throw. But we did and it was the most our team moved the ball. Grah, it was so frustrating, I can't explain. And if I tried to take her spot b/c she would be where I was supposed to be she would yell at me, "You're supposed to be on the other side of me." "You're supposed to more over here, get here and I'll move back there."
Ok, I'm done ranting. It was a crappy practice, but now I know who I can't work with. It's unfortunate b/c when she's not in "game," that girl is good at catching and throwing and working on a team and moving around, adjusting to the situation. She's just not good there. Tomorrow will be better. We're supposed to start actually tackling each other in game now.
9.16.2009
Ed-jew-ma-cation
It really pisses me off when people pronounce education like that. I mean really pisses me off. It's not like anyone really says it that way. You aren't making fun of anyone by saying it that way, you just sound like a douche. Anyway, I just wanted to have a good title. Onto my real topic.
I decided to double major on a whim. I had my major and three minors, but wanted something that wouldn't make anyone who read my resume be like, "What was she thinking, taking three minors? They certainly don't make her look appealing for this job - she can't make up her mind! I bet she still has no clue what she wants and only picked this major because she thinks it's easy to take photographs. NEXT!" And yes, I have pictured people thinking that when I show up for an interview.
So I decided to turn Japanese into a major. I got that all organized. I met with my new adviser for International Studies. Then I decided I was going to graduate in 3.5 years, not 4. That was kind of insane. But even now, I still could do it. I could still make it work. It would be difficult and what not, but hey, it can be done!
But it won't. I'm going to double major in 4 years and maybe get a minor. Not sure. Or I could just stay a few more years, get a major in teaching. Pff, might as well go to Ball State for that. I'm diverting from where I thought this post would go, but that's ok. It makes for a better post anyway.
I'm finding that I'm not entirely certain in my major. Well, no. I love journalism. I want to take photos. We got that part down. My Japanese major is just convenient, but I have this lingering desire to teach at the high school level. Preferably 9th or 10th grade (honors) English or some sort of photography or journalism. But I need a totally different major for that. And I can't get a teaching major with my other majors b/c they don't allow that here. So I'm kind of considering transferring to Ball State in Indiana...? I considered going there my senior year. They have Japanese and are strong for journalism and have a really good teaching program as far as Indiana goes. And overall they're a cool school. More liberal artsy than Mizzou, still decent sports teams (where did they come from last year in football man? daaaang) and I absolutely love their campus. I'd be closer to home and closer to friends. I know some people from HiLite (younger than me) who decided to go there, and even one who is double majoring in journalism and Japanese. I could be happy and finally shut up this little voice in the back of my head. And I would be totally set for life job wise. Hey local newspaper, need a photographer? Sure! Hey local high school, need an English/Photography/Journalism teacher? Sure! Hey random business company, need a Japanese translator? Hell yes!
But then there's the flip side. I think I only want this because my mom's mom was a teacher and my mom was a teaching major but she only taught for a few years before realizing her mom forced her into that. I don't have the forcing into that, yet I still have the desire. But I'm a lot like my mom and I don't think I would have the patience for teaching. And what the hell would I do in college for 6 years? Yeah, I think that's what it would take to graduate with all that. Maybe 5.5. I don't know. And transferring universities? What if I regret it? What if I get there, start my teaching courses, and then figure out I hate teaching?
I probably won't change majors anymore. If I still have a strong desire to teach after I graduate, I'll figure out a way to make it happen. Let's work with what I have now though. Photojournalism, Japanese, English/Art minor. Sounds good. Seems fun, right? I think I might take an Art class next semester just to do ceramics. I've always thought that would be relaxing. We'll see. Too far off to really know.
I decided to double major on a whim. I had my major and three minors, but wanted something that wouldn't make anyone who read my resume be like, "What was she thinking, taking three minors? They certainly don't make her look appealing for this job - she can't make up her mind! I bet she still has no clue what she wants and only picked this major because she thinks it's easy to take photographs. NEXT!" And yes, I have pictured people thinking that when I show up for an interview.
So I decided to turn Japanese into a major. I got that all organized. I met with my new adviser for International Studies. Then I decided I was going to graduate in 3.5 years, not 4. That was kind of insane. But even now, I still could do it. I could still make it work. It would be difficult and what not, but hey, it can be done!
But it won't. I'm going to double major in 4 years and maybe get a minor. Not sure. Or I could just stay a few more years, get a major in teaching. Pff, might as well go to Ball State for that. I'm diverting from where I thought this post would go, but that's ok. It makes for a better post anyway.
I'm finding that I'm not entirely certain in my major. Well, no. I love journalism. I want to take photos. We got that part down. My Japanese major is just convenient, but I have this lingering desire to teach at the high school level. Preferably 9th or 10th grade (honors) English or some sort of photography or journalism. But I need a totally different major for that. And I can't get a teaching major with my other majors b/c they don't allow that here. So I'm kind of considering transferring to Ball State in Indiana...? I considered going there my senior year. They have Japanese and are strong for journalism and have a really good teaching program as far as Indiana goes. And overall they're a cool school. More liberal artsy than Mizzou, still decent sports teams (where did they come from last year in football man? daaaang) and I absolutely love their campus. I'd be closer to home and closer to friends. I know some people from HiLite (younger than me) who decided to go there, and even one who is double majoring in journalism and Japanese. I could be happy and finally shut up this little voice in the back of my head. And I would be totally set for life job wise. Hey local newspaper, need a photographer? Sure! Hey local high school, need an English/Photography/Journalism teacher? Sure! Hey random business company, need a Japanese translator? Hell yes!
But then there's the flip side. I think I only want this because my mom's mom was a teacher and my mom was a teaching major but she only taught for a few years before realizing her mom forced her into that. I don't have the forcing into that, yet I still have the desire. But I'm a lot like my mom and I don't think I would have the patience for teaching. And what the hell would I do in college for 6 years? Yeah, I think that's what it would take to graduate with all that. Maybe 5.5. I don't know. And transferring universities? What if I regret it? What if I get there, start my teaching courses, and then figure out I hate teaching?
I probably won't change majors anymore. If I still have a strong desire to teach after I graduate, I'll figure out a way to make it happen. Let's work with what I have now though. Photojournalism, Japanese, English/Art minor. Sounds good. Seems fun, right? I think I might take an Art class next semester just to do ceramics. I've always thought that would be relaxing. We'll see. Too far off to really know.
9.11.2009
Rugby
I am far too tired to think of a decent title or edit this before posting. So, without further ado, I bring you rugby. Women's rugby to be exact. Of the Mizzou variety.
Don't ask me what I'm doing. I have no clue.
It all started at the beginning of the school year. I work for the student newspaper and every year we have a new photo editor b/c they move on to other publications (aka, ones that the Journalism school forces you into by requiring you to take a certain class). For unknown reasons, the editor and I are not "chums" making it rather difficult to enjoy taking pictures of the few assignments I have received. So I started looking for other activities to fill my time. A few friends and I were going to take a hip hop class, but opted for Zumba instead. That was fun the first time. Then we never went back. Granted, school keeps me pretty busy, but I did want something to get me out of the apartment. Fallout 3 helps keep me entertained, but I come off as an anti-social just keeping myself in my room all the time.
So that led me to the student activities fair on Wednesday, two days ago. It's just a whole bunch of tables set up in one of our open areas (we call it Lowry Mall. A quick google search revales there is a building named Lowry Hall right next to Lowry Mall. Who'd've known?). All the clubs and non-live-in sororities/fraternities and other activities on campus have a table or booth. And a few food places give out free food if you wait in a line. They run out too quickly for it to be worth it though. Anyway, I was just passing through and I happened to see rugby. "Oh, Dad played rugby in college," I thought as I walked on by. Then I realized it said women's rugby. And the girls sitting behind the table weren't the "I'm going to kill you b/c I'm so tough" kind of rugby players. So I turned around. The girl sitting there was like, "Wait, you just walked by." "Yeah, and I turned around. How intense are you guys?" "Oh, not at all. Like, we're competitive, of course, but you don't have to know anything before you play." "Nothing at all?" "Nope, we'll teach you. It's easy once you kinda understand it." "Okay." So I put my name and email down, picked up a flyer for an ice-cream meeting that afternoon.
Trust me, I am just as surprised as you are.
I went to the meeting at 5pm. I left at 6pm. That left me a day to decide if I should go to their practice. I needed to go to Walmart. If I decided to go, I would pick up a mouth guard while I was there. I knew at practice they would be running a mile to start off. I didn't know anything beyond that. I didn't know what position to expect to be put on, if there were cuts, if I would get any time on the field even if there weren't cuts. Against my better judgment, I picked up a mouth guard.
Let me tell you one thing about mouth guards. Molding them is a pain in the ass. And don't believe the bullshit "it won't burn," because it does. You boil water, take it off the heat for 30 seconds, drop your guard in for 30 more seconds, take the guard out (with a spoon? I used a fork), shake excess water off (impossible w/o getting the guard stuck to other parts of it) and stick it in your mouth to mold it for a minute. About 25 seconds in you're in pain. Both times I took mine out at 30. Then you put the guard in cold running water. I dunno...it seemed to work. I wish the fit were a bit tighter, but I'm used to retainers and the like so I expected this to kind of be like putting your teeth in the gel the orthodontist uses to make molds and it would like shooooop to your teeth (that's my suction cup sound there guys, shooooop). You braces kiddos know what I mean. It's not like that. I can't describe how it is, it's just not that.
Practice is like 2 minutes away from my apartment. We started off by doing a few stretches and tossing the ball around, introducing ourselves. About a third of the people there were rookies which was pretty cool. I think everyone but me brought water. Oops. Actually, I was surprised that I even brought my running shoes to school. And a couple of workout t-shirts. I do need to go out and get a water bottle and a few sports bras though. By tomorrow. But I'll talk more about that later.
So we run the mile. I haven't run a mile since sophomore year. I didn't take any physical education junior or senior year. I went speed walking around the indoor track a few times and swimming once. I went to a Zumba class once this year. I sweat like a pig and was sore for 3 days. I ran the mile in 8:04. That's about as fast as I was 20 pounds ago (maybe more, but I don't think I've grown more than a few inches since then so I think this is about right). And like I said, I had no water and it was hot. I didn't push myself at the end b/c I simply couldn't but I am really really proud of myself. And it's not like we ran on a track, we were on gravel. Yeah go me. One of the fastest rookies and most of them were all, "Yeah, I played soccer/softball/basketball/cheerleading (wtf? now rugby? really, who am I to judge? ice skating to racing after all)/cross country/some combination of those." I kick ass. I am so proud of myself. I don't know how better to express it.
After that it was mainly passing drills until we divided into forward and backs. I just kind of sat there with a couple other rookies until one of the coaches sized us up and told us which ones to go for. Contrary to what you might think, the backs handle the ball the most. We move it up the field and pass it to each other and score. Yeah, we're cool. I expected to be a forward since I consider myself pretty tough and like, "rawr, I'm strong, I will intimidate you, rawr rawr," but I rather like being what most people would consider offense. We don't really have offensive and defensive teams like football...rugby is more like soccer in that aspect. Oh, and you can't throw the ball forward, you have to throw it backwards. You can kick forward though. Anyway, I'm getting off topic (it seems the sugar is finally kicking in). I'm a back. I want to be inside-center or outside-center. They don't call the plays but they move around the most and make sure the play is happening like it's supposed to.
I'm going to a rugby crash course clinic in Kansas City tomorrow to learn the basics of rugby. It's from 8am to 6pm. I'm looking forward to it, but I think I'm going to die about noon. We kind of scrimmaged toward the end of practice and once it got to be 7pm, my body shut off. I was playing wing so I wasn't really needed, but it was like I just forgot to be part of the team and just stood there, kind of following after the ball, but never moving closer to it. Ok, time for homework before going to sleep early. Maybe I'll play some Fallout 3 to wind down too. I'll also try to update this more, I know I've been really bad about that. I have 3 half written drafts that I should just finish and publish, but I'm so tired right now. Maybe Sunday...
Don't ask me what I'm doing. I have no clue.
It all started at the beginning of the school year. I work for the student newspaper and every year we have a new photo editor b/c they move on to other publications (aka, ones that the Journalism school forces you into by requiring you to take a certain class). For unknown reasons, the editor and I are not "chums" making it rather difficult to enjoy taking pictures of the few assignments I have received. So I started looking for other activities to fill my time. A few friends and I were going to take a hip hop class, but opted for Zumba instead. That was fun the first time. Then we never went back. Granted, school keeps me pretty busy, but I did want something to get me out of the apartment. Fallout 3 helps keep me entertained, but I come off as an anti-social just keeping myself in my room all the time.
So that led me to the student activities fair on Wednesday, two days ago. It's just a whole bunch of tables set up in one of our open areas (we call it Lowry Mall. A quick google search revales there is a building named Lowry Hall right next to Lowry Mall. Who'd've known?). All the clubs and non-live-in sororities/fraternities and other activities on campus have a table or booth. And a few food places give out free food if you wait in a line. They run out too quickly for it to be worth it though. Anyway, I was just passing through and I happened to see rugby. "Oh, Dad played rugby in college," I thought as I walked on by. Then I realized it said women's rugby. And the girls sitting behind the table weren't the "I'm going to kill you b/c I'm so tough" kind of rugby players. So I turned around. The girl sitting there was like, "Wait, you just walked by." "Yeah, and I turned around. How intense are you guys?" "Oh, not at all. Like, we're competitive, of course, but you don't have to know anything before you play." "Nothing at all?" "Nope, we'll teach you. It's easy once you kinda understand it." "Okay." So I put my name and email down, picked up a flyer for an ice-cream meeting that afternoon.
Trust me, I am just as surprised as you are.
I went to the meeting at 5pm. I left at 6pm. That left me a day to decide if I should go to their practice. I needed to go to Walmart. If I decided to go, I would pick up a mouth guard while I was there. I knew at practice they would be running a mile to start off. I didn't know anything beyond that. I didn't know what position to expect to be put on, if there were cuts, if I would get any time on the field even if there weren't cuts. Against my better judgment, I picked up a mouth guard.
Let me tell you one thing about mouth guards. Molding them is a pain in the ass. And don't believe the bullshit "it won't burn," because it does. You boil water, take it off the heat for 30 seconds, drop your guard in for 30 more seconds, take the guard out (with a spoon? I used a fork), shake excess water off (impossible w/o getting the guard stuck to other parts of it) and stick it in your mouth to mold it for a minute. About 25 seconds in you're in pain. Both times I took mine out at 30. Then you put the guard in cold running water. I dunno...it seemed to work. I wish the fit were a bit tighter, but I'm used to retainers and the like so I expected this to kind of be like putting your teeth in the gel the orthodontist uses to make molds and it would like shooooop to your teeth (that's my suction cup sound there guys, shooooop). You braces kiddos know what I mean. It's not like that. I can't describe how it is, it's just not that.
Practice is like 2 minutes away from my apartment. We started off by doing a few stretches and tossing the ball around, introducing ourselves. About a third of the people there were rookies which was pretty cool. I think everyone but me brought water. Oops. Actually, I was surprised that I even brought my running shoes to school. And a couple of workout t-shirts. I do need to go out and get a water bottle and a few sports bras though. By tomorrow. But I'll talk more about that later.
So we run the mile. I haven't run a mile since sophomore year. I didn't take any physical education junior or senior year. I went speed walking around the indoor track a few times and swimming once. I went to a Zumba class once this year. I sweat like a pig and was sore for 3 days. I ran the mile in 8:04. That's about as fast as I was 20 pounds ago (maybe more, but I don't think I've grown more than a few inches since then so I think this is about right). And like I said, I had no water and it was hot. I didn't push myself at the end b/c I simply couldn't but I am really really proud of myself. And it's not like we ran on a track, we were on gravel. Yeah go me. One of the fastest rookies and most of them were all, "Yeah, I played soccer/softball/basketball/cheerleading (wtf? now rugby? really, who am I to judge? ice skating to racing after all)/cross country/some combination of those." I kick ass. I am so proud of myself. I don't know how better to express it.
After that it was mainly passing drills until we divided into forward and backs. I just kind of sat there with a couple other rookies until one of the coaches sized us up and told us which ones to go for. Contrary to what you might think, the backs handle the ball the most. We move it up the field and pass it to each other and score. Yeah, we're cool. I expected to be a forward since I consider myself pretty tough and like, "rawr, I'm strong, I will intimidate you, rawr rawr," but I rather like being what most people would consider offense. We don't really have offensive and defensive teams like football...rugby is more like soccer in that aspect. Oh, and you can't throw the ball forward, you have to throw it backwards. You can kick forward though. Anyway, I'm getting off topic (it seems the sugar is finally kicking in). I'm a back. I want to be inside-center or outside-center. They don't call the plays but they move around the most and make sure the play is happening like it's supposed to.
I'm going to a rugby crash course clinic in Kansas City tomorrow to learn the basics of rugby. It's from 8am to 6pm. I'm looking forward to it, but I think I'm going to die about noon. We kind of scrimmaged toward the end of practice and once it got to be 7pm, my body shut off. I was playing wing so I wasn't really needed, but it was like I just forgot to be part of the team and just stood there, kind of following after the ball, but never moving closer to it. Ok, time for homework before going to sleep early. Maybe I'll play some Fallout 3 to wind down too. I'll also try to update this more, I know I've been really bad about that. I have 3 half written drafts that I should just finish and publish, but I'm so tired right now. Maybe Sunday...
8.21.2009
Wasting Away
(written sometime Wednesday night)
Good god it makes me frustrated. No wonder L is the way she is. I’ve been at her house for a full day and I have a constant headache from the constant annoying mixture of voices that are always always always shouting through the house. No one sees any need to be quiet. It’s 11pm on a school night. They have a freshman. He hasn’t done his homework. He’s playing Halo in the living room. L, her mom, her 18-year old brother and her two friends are playing Uno in the kitchen. Both are loud. The dad is sleeping, somehow.
They waste away their lives.
I have met so many people in the past 24 hours I can’t name them all. Better yet, I can’t name a single one, save L, who is going to a state school. The rest go to community colleges. And really, that number is rather small since most of her friends just smoke pot and bum off their parents. Most are about 20 years old.
It’s pathetic.
This is middle class. I didn’t know there was such a difference between middle- and upper-middle-class, but there is. Teenage pregnancies exist here. Pot is the drug of choice, but it’s not just used by a select group of people. Alcohol is so freely talked about. The dad had like four beers before heading to bed. Four. I never saw him without a beer in his hand tonight. The kids all talk about their adventures with alcohol in front of their parents without concern. One of L’s friends whom I’ve met a few times, B, speaks of a “wonderful float trip” she went on. She doesn’t remember it. When asked how could it be good if she doesn’t remember that, I am given an incredulous stare. “I don’t remember it. That’s what makes it an awesome weekend.”
Uh…right…
I didn’t realize how blessed I was to have intelligent friends whose concerns extend further than gossip about the latest boyfriend of their high school slut. I mean really, who the hell cares what Christy McCarthy is up to these days? Okay, so I might have gone too far there. But you get my point, right? We have concerns about our future. They are concerned about what she said he said that he heard from his girlfriend who heard it from her younger sister’s best friend who read it through text from her latest boy-toy…do any of you CA people know about this? I can’t believe this world exists and I am seriously reconsidering my friendship with L after this. These are the people she is really friends with and who have shaped her. Maybe I don’t actually know her as well as I thought. Maybe this is who she really is. And maybe I don’t like it one bit.
A word to those on the west coast: heed my warning, fly over this part of the country. I finally understand why they call it that. There’s nothing good that could ever come from here.
Good god it makes me frustrated. No wonder L is the way she is. I’ve been at her house for a full day and I have a constant headache from the constant annoying mixture of voices that are always always always shouting through the house. No one sees any need to be quiet. It’s 11pm on a school night. They have a freshman. He hasn’t done his homework. He’s playing Halo in the living room. L, her mom, her 18-year old brother and her two friends are playing Uno in the kitchen. Both are loud. The dad is sleeping, somehow.
They waste away their lives.
I have met so many people in the past 24 hours I can’t name them all. Better yet, I can’t name a single one, save L, who is going to a state school. The rest go to community colleges. And really, that number is rather small since most of her friends just smoke pot and bum off their parents. Most are about 20 years old.
It’s pathetic.
This is middle class. I didn’t know there was such a difference between middle- and upper-middle-class, but there is. Teenage pregnancies exist here. Pot is the drug of choice, but it’s not just used by a select group of people. Alcohol is so freely talked about. The dad had like four beers before heading to bed. Four. I never saw him without a beer in his hand tonight. The kids all talk about their adventures with alcohol in front of their parents without concern. One of L’s friends whom I’ve met a few times, B, speaks of a “wonderful float trip” she went on. She doesn’t remember it. When asked how could it be good if she doesn’t remember that, I am given an incredulous stare. “I don’t remember it. That’s what makes it an awesome weekend.”
Uh…right…
I didn’t realize how blessed I was to have intelligent friends whose concerns extend further than gossip about the latest boyfriend of their high school slut. I mean really, who the hell cares what Christy McCarthy is up to these days? Okay, so I might have gone too far there. But you get my point, right? We have concerns about our future. They are concerned about what she said he said that he heard from his girlfriend who heard it from her younger sister’s best friend who read it through text from her latest boy-toy…do any of you CA people know about this? I can’t believe this world exists and I am seriously reconsidering my friendship with L after this. These are the people she is really friends with and who have shaped her. Maybe I don’t actually know her as well as I thought. Maybe this is who she really is. And maybe I don’t like it one bit.
A word to those on the west coast: heed my warning, fly over this part of the country. I finally understand why they call it that. There’s nothing good that could ever come from here.
Following the Rules
I don't remember what it felt like to go against the rules set out by my parents for me. I don't remember if it was fun or if I defied them often or what my punishments were. I do know what it is like to speed down a road, 20 or 30 miles over the speed limit and get away with it. The instant fear when you get caught and the adrenaline that pulses through your veins, causing you to shake uncontrollably at your boyfriend's townhome for 15 minutes after you get out of that ticket. I imagine going against the rules to be something like that.
I can't say I enjoyed how it felt, though it certainly was exciting. Maybe people like this, I suppose, otherwise they wouldn't break the law all the time.
I speak, of course, from experience.
My lovely apartmentmates have a habit of going against the law. From smoking to drinking, I have gotten used to their shenanigans and tolerate them to the best of my abilities. One thing I cannot stand, however, is when they put other people at risk.
Like before, when the apartment was one boy and three girls. An apartmentmate wanted another person to live with us and to have a dog. Both are against the lease so I had to say that it wouldn't happen. This person got very mad at me and eventually decided to leave the apartment. This drama was very long and drawn out and painful for me. I lost a friend over it and possibly got on the nerves of a current apartmentmate. But this troublemaker moved out and I thought the worst of my problems were over.
And now we have two illegal pets living in our apartment. One is a cat. A cat for crying out loud. They were grumpy about me even asking if I could have my five pound dwarf rabbit at the apartment, yet this girl (all living at the apartment now are girls so it doesn't tell you anything) thinks that they will allow her to have a cat and some sort of reptile. Reptile maybe. But they have to approve any and all pets. So...fat chance.
The problem I forsee is that she has already bought everything the cat would need. Food, litter box, extra litter, a blanket for it to sleep on. It has everything. And all these things are supposed to fit into her room which is already full to the brim. Yeah. Right. And what happens if the apartment says she can't keep it? she won't get rid of the cat, not after she bought all that crap. And her lizard? Well...we'll see. I've requested to go with her to the management to make sure these pets are allowed under the pretense that I want to see if I can bring my bunny. I think this is a good way to involve myself without making it seem like I'm taking the other side. I'm not, I just want us to live legally.
I just never expected it to be this difficult to accomplish.
I understand the appeal of not following the rules. I just don't understand why people are selfish enough that they must put their thrills above the safety and security of others. I want a place to live. Is that so much to ask?
I can't say I enjoyed how it felt, though it certainly was exciting. Maybe people like this, I suppose, otherwise they wouldn't break the law all the time.
I speak, of course, from experience.
My lovely apartmentmates have a habit of going against the law. From smoking to drinking, I have gotten used to their shenanigans and tolerate them to the best of my abilities. One thing I cannot stand, however, is when they put other people at risk.
Like before, when the apartment was one boy and three girls. An apartmentmate wanted another person to live with us and to have a dog. Both are against the lease so I had to say that it wouldn't happen. This person got very mad at me and eventually decided to leave the apartment. This drama was very long and drawn out and painful for me. I lost a friend over it and possibly got on the nerves of a current apartmentmate. But this troublemaker moved out and I thought the worst of my problems were over.
And now we have two illegal pets living in our apartment. One is a cat. A cat for crying out loud. They were grumpy about me even asking if I could have my five pound dwarf rabbit at the apartment, yet this girl (all living at the apartment now are girls so it doesn't tell you anything) thinks that they will allow her to have a cat and some sort of reptile. Reptile maybe. But they have to approve any and all pets. So...fat chance.
The problem I forsee is that she has already bought everything the cat would need. Food, litter box, extra litter, a blanket for it to sleep on. It has everything. And all these things are supposed to fit into her room which is already full to the brim. Yeah. Right. And what happens if the apartment says she can't keep it? she won't get rid of the cat, not after she bought all that crap. And her lizard? Well...we'll see. I've requested to go with her to the management to make sure these pets are allowed under the pretense that I want to see if I can bring my bunny. I think this is a good way to involve myself without making it seem like I'm taking the other side. I'm not, I just want us to live legally.
I just never expected it to be this difficult to accomplish.
I understand the appeal of not following the rules. I just don't understand why people are selfish enough that they must put their thrills above the safety and security of others. I want a place to live. Is that so much to ask?
8.20.2009
Hitchhikers Guide to I-70
(written Monday evening)
I never know what to do when I see hitchhikers. Should I stop and pick them up, offer them a ride? Should I pass them by, writing them off as creepers and killers? I saw a guy, probably in his mid twenties, looking for a ride just outside of Indianapolis on I-70 heading west. He looked nice enough, fairly clean with only a backpack as far as luggage went. I slowed down to about 50 (speed limit 70, so you know I was going at least 75) for almost a mile, just wondering if I should stop and walk back to him and offer him a ride. I was going to St Louis, which is the next major city along I-70. It was the least I could do to help him on his way.
I ended up being honked at so I pulled into the slow lane and collected my thoughts. But for the next hour I could not stop thinking about this hitchhiker. Did he find a ride? Did he have a decent place to sleep? Where was he heading? Was he a killer or would he have had interesting stories to keep me entertained until my destination?
I’ll never know. I don’t pick up hitchhikers while driving alone.
I never know what to do when I see hitchhikers. Should I stop and pick them up, offer them a ride? Should I pass them by, writing them off as creepers and killers? I saw a guy, probably in his mid twenties, looking for a ride just outside of Indianapolis on I-70 heading west. He looked nice enough, fairly clean with only a backpack as far as luggage went. I slowed down to about 50 (speed limit 70, so you know I was going at least 75) for almost a mile, just wondering if I should stop and walk back to him and offer him a ride. I was going to St Louis, which is the next major city along I-70. It was the least I could do to help him on his way.
I ended up being honked at so I pulled into the slow lane and collected my thoughts. But for the next hour I could not stop thinking about this hitchhiker. Did he find a ride? Did he have a decent place to sleep? Where was he heading? Was he a killer or would he have had interesting stories to keep me entertained until my destination?
I’ll never know. I don’t pick up hitchhikers while driving alone.
8.14.2009
Relationships in College: Part 1
Allow me to be upfront about this. I have no idea how many parts this will be or how lengthy you can expect said unknown number of parts to be. I don't know when I will post these, but don't expect them to be one after another. I only have personal experience with one long distance relationship, travel time in hours ranging from slightly over one to an average of six hours (all one way, of course). I have observed many types of college relationships, however, since my roommate and other people living in the dorms turned out to be quite good subjects.
Allow me to give you a roadmap. I shall be covering one on (long distance relationships) and three (possibly four if I have time) off. See what I did there debate nerds? Oh how I make myself laugh sometimes...
Long distance relationships in college are tough. It's not so bad if your colleges are only an hour or two apart. When you're that close, shelling out the gas money to see each other that weekend isn't too much of a big deal. I mean, of course it matters and is always appreciated, but compared to when a one-way trip is 6 hours (give or take a time zone) and about a full tank of gas (K claims he's made it just under a tank, but he gets 10 MPG better than I do and drives a lot slower getting to my university), well...there really is no comparison.
I'm not too sure what exactly I'm supposed to say. There's no set way to make a long distance relationship work. Most of the time, it doesn't work. You see each other two times a month at best and the breaks have to be split between bf-gf time and family time and that makes both parties frustrated (and you have to attend both family get-togethers...thank goodness I don't have much family out here, there's no way we'd be able to work that out).
People and websites will tell you that communication is key. It's bullshit. In college, you're always online. Via cell phone or laptop you're on Facebook and Twitter and some form of an instant messaging client. Webcams are built into about 50% of laptops and the PC lovers have probably had some form of a webcam for 3 years so the use of Skype is rampant. Failing internet service there is texting and [gasp] phone calls. It's when you're face-to-face that you stop trying so hard to communicate and things get misunderstood.
Not seeing each other gets difficult. I don't want to go into detail (no, nothing more than PG rated, don't you guys go thinking like that), but you really do miss just being around your SO. There's no way to get over that. You just have to deal with it.
I'm the only one I know out of all my friends - both Midwest states and California combined - that went into her first year of college with a boyfriend and came out with the same one. No, scratch that. I know of another. But she is no longer in a long distance relationship because she moved back to her hometown to take community college classes there. I'm happy for her that she could make that choice, but it's not one I would ever make. Anyway, back to the point. Most broke it off before college. I can think of one that attempted it. Two hours apart. I can't explain to you why these relationships ended, only speculate. And I have...a lot. But space will not be wasted on that, especially because I don't know the truth.
One of my very good friends, ex-neighbor, N, is entering college this year. She's going to Duke to study pre-med. She does plan to become a doctor, but she's also interested in prosthesis and rehabilitation, so a bit of tech is mixed in there. She will go into college with a boyfriend at the U of Maryland. Google Maps says it's 4 hours. She says it's 5. I don't know the traffic, so I'll give her the benefit - they'll probably have to pass around D.C. However, this couple is talking about using planes for travel. Since both colleges are relatively close to major airports and flights to and from are cheap (only slightly more expensive than driving, depending on gas prices) and easy to get, they plan to cut down on travel time and fly to see each other. It's a decent trade-off and I am looking forward to seeing how it will work out.
So that's it. My advice is as follows. Before you leave for college, ask yourself if you want to stay with this person. If you have doubt, end the relationship. It's not good to drag the other person along until you find their replacement locally. If you stay together, make sure you know what you're getting into, that you know where your limits are and how much you can deal with. Keep in touch, but keep your freedom. Try to make a plan with your SO before you leave...it probably won't be followed, but it'll make you feel better about the situation going into it.
Allow me to give you a roadmap. I shall be covering one on (long distance relationships) and three (possibly four if I have time) off. See what I did there debate nerds? Oh how I make myself laugh sometimes...
Long distance relationships in college are tough. It's not so bad if your colleges are only an hour or two apart. When you're that close, shelling out the gas money to see each other that weekend isn't too much of a big deal. I mean, of course it matters and is always appreciated, but compared to when a one-way trip is 6 hours (give or take a time zone) and about a full tank of gas (K claims he's made it just under a tank, but he gets 10 MPG better than I do and drives a lot slower getting to my university), well...there really is no comparison.
I'm not too sure what exactly I'm supposed to say. There's no set way to make a long distance relationship work. Most of the time, it doesn't work. You see each other two times a month at best and the breaks have to be split between bf-gf time and family time and that makes both parties frustrated (and you have to attend both family get-togethers...thank goodness I don't have much family out here, there's no way we'd be able to work that out).
People and websites will tell you that communication is key. It's bullshit. In college, you're always online. Via cell phone or laptop you're on Facebook and Twitter and some form of an instant messaging client. Webcams are built into about 50% of laptops and the PC lovers have probably had some form of a webcam for 3 years so the use of Skype is rampant. Failing internet service there is texting and [gasp] phone calls. It's when you're face-to-face that you stop trying so hard to communicate and things get misunderstood.
Not seeing each other gets difficult. I don't want to go into detail (no, nothing more than PG rated, don't you guys go thinking like that), but you really do miss just being around your SO. There's no way to get over that. You just have to deal with it.
I'm the only one I know out of all my friends - both Midwest states and California combined - that went into her first year of college with a boyfriend and came out with the same one. No, scratch that. I know of another. But she is no longer in a long distance relationship because she moved back to her hometown to take community college classes there. I'm happy for her that she could make that choice, but it's not one I would ever make. Anyway, back to the point. Most broke it off before college. I can think of one that attempted it. Two hours apart. I can't explain to you why these relationships ended, only speculate. And I have...a lot. But space will not be wasted on that, especially because I don't know the truth.
One of my very good friends, ex-neighbor, N, is entering college this year. She's going to Duke to study pre-med. She does plan to become a doctor, but she's also interested in prosthesis and rehabilitation, so a bit of tech is mixed in there. She will go into college with a boyfriend at the U of Maryland. Google Maps says it's 4 hours. She says it's 5. I don't know the traffic, so I'll give her the benefit - they'll probably have to pass around D.C. However, this couple is talking about using planes for travel. Since both colleges are relatively close to major airports and flights to and from are cheap (only slightly more expensive than driving, depending on gas prices) and easy to get, they plan to cut down on travel time and fly to see each other. It's a decent trade-off and I am looking forward to seeing how it will work out.
So that's it. My advice is as follows. Before you leave for college, ask yourself if you want to stay with this person. If you have doubt, end the relationship. It's not good to drag the other person along until you find their replacement locally. If you stay together, make sure you know what you're getting into, that you know where your limits are and how much you can deal with. Keep in touch, but keep your freedom. Try to make a plan with your SO before you leave...it probably won't be followed, but it'll make you feel better about the situation going into it.
8.12.2009
Girl Say What, Say What?
I know I am a college student. I am an adult. I do not know how this happened.
Over the past year I have become a Disney channel addict.
I admit it. It's great entertainment for when you need a study break, and decent background noise for when you actually are studying. The storylines are simple enough for you to follow along without really paying much attention anyway.
It started out as just watching the nightly movie. Then it turned into watching whatever was on after the movie. Then I would turn it on late at night to see if any of the older shows that I watched were on. That's how I got hooked on Life With Derek, a modern Canadian version of the Brady Bunch. Then, one lazy Saturday afternoon, my good friend, L, was channel surfing and was intrigued by a funny theme song - Suite Life on Deck. We fell in love with the twin brother's silly escapades, the sweet country girl's innocence and the dumb heiress's witty one-liners. Pretty soon anytime I had the TV on, I was watching Disney channel.
At the same time, my boyfriend was developing a similar addiction. He heard a Miley Cyrus song on the radio and, in his nerdy fashion, set up his computer to record Hannah Montana any time it happened to be on. One time he happened to watch the show on after, Wizards on Waverly Place. Thus his obsession began.
Soon Disney introduced a new show - Sonny With a Chance - and shortly after, thanks to the success of the JoBros - Jonas. Though neither of these warranted the attention of Life With Derek (for me) or Hannah Montana (for him), they were not to be flipped past should they be on.
This all being said, I just happened to watch Miley's performance at the Teen Choice Awards on YouTube. I'm kind of appalled. She pole danced on a pushable ice cream cart! You could see her mesh bra when she danced! And let's not forget that she CAN NOT sing to save her life (those JoBros though....they're decent singers when the younger two aren't off breaking hearts). On the other hand...she's almost 17. I danced like her when I was 17. Not on stage at an award's show, but I danced like her, and raunchier too. My junior prom I wore a more revealing dress and my bra showed sometimes. But it wasn't indecent. She wasn't indecent...was she? (link if you wanna check it out: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sRrwPAM2LuU&NR=1)
I guess my only complaint is that I hold these Disney Channel "stars" up to a higher standard. Demi (who performed at our state fair just two days ago), Selena, Miley, all three of the Jonases...they should be extra careful. Yes, sometimes that means no fun. Nick should stop dating for a while - or at least stop dating Selena and Miley. Miley should cover up and be more professional (have you seen her interviews?). Joe should stop dating high profile people or at least not write songs about them. But then so should Taylor Swift...actually she can just go hide in a cave for the rest of her life. Country/Pop can live without her. (side note: heard her three times today at the state fair...had to slap boyfriend to get him to stop humming along.) Demi's not well enough known to really need to watch out and Selena seems to have learned her lesson after the whole Selena/Miley/Nick thing.
And after that last paragraph I realized I read way too many teen magazines and spend way too much time on YouTube watching whatever they have on their front page for my own good. But it's late. And I don't mind being candid with you guys. You'll still love meeeee. Right? C's lucky. She got out with just High School Musical and the JoBros. I've been pulled in and I don't think there's a way out.
FYI, decent Disney artists in my book: Jonas Brothers (Paranoid = love), Mitchel Musso (In Crowd = sing along), Demi Levato (dat girl got lungs!).
Over the past year I have become a Disney channel addict.
I admit it. It's great entertainment for when you need a study break, and decent background noise for when you actually are studying. The storylines are simple enough for you to follow along without really paying much attention anyway.
It started out as just watching the nightly movie. Then it turned into watching whatever was on after the movie. Then I would turn it on late at night to see if any of the older shows that I watched were on. That's how I got hooked on Life With Derek, a modern Canadian version of the Brady Bunch. Then, one lazy Saturday afternoon, my good friend, L, was channel surfing and was intrigued by a funny theme song - Suite Life on Deck. We fell in love with the twin brother's silly escapades, the sweet country girl's innocence and the dumb heiress's witty one-liners. Pretty soon anytime I had the TV on, I was watching Disney channel.
At the same time, my boyfriend was developing a similar addiction. He heard a Miley Cyrus song on the radio and, in his nerdy fashion, set up his computer to record Hannah Montana any time it happened to be on. One time he happened to watch the show on after, Wizards on Waverly Place. Thus his obsession began.
Soon Disney introduced a new show - Sonny With a Chance - and shortly after, thanks to the success of the JoBros - Jonas. Though neither of these warranted the attention of Life With Derek (for me) or Hannah Montana (for him), they were not to be flipped past should they be on.
This all being said, I just happened to watch Miley's performance at the Teen Choice Awards on YouTube. I'm kind of appalled. She pole danced on a pushable ice cream cart! You could see her mesh bra when she danced! And let's not forget that she CAN NOT sing to save her life (those JoBros though....they're decent singers when the younger two aren't off breaking hearts). On the other hand...she's almost 17. I danced like her when I was 17. Not on stage at an award's show, but I danced like her, and raunchier too. My junior prom I wore a more revealing dress and my bra showed sometimes. But it wasn't indecent. She wasn't indecent...was she? (link if you wanna check it out: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sRrwPAM2LuU&NR=1)
I guess my only complaint is that I hold these Disney Channel "stars" up to a higher standard. Demi (who performed at our state fair just two days ago), Selena, Miley, all three of the Jonases...they should be extra careful. Yes, sometimes that means no fun. Nick should stop dating for a while - or at least stop dating Selena and Miley. Miley should cover up and be more professional (have you seen her interviews?). Joe should stop dating high profile people or at least not write songs about them. But then so should Taylor Swift...actually she can just go hide in a cave for the rest of her life. Country/Pop can live without her. (side note: heard her three times today at the state fair...had to slap boyfriend to get him to stop humming along.) Demi's not well enough known to really need to watch out and Selena seems to have learned her lesson after the whole Selena/Miley/Nick thing.
And after that last paragraph I realized I read way too many teen magazines and spend way too much time on YouTube watching whatever they have on their front page for my own good. But it's late. And I don't mind being candid with you guys. You'll still love meeeee. Right? C's lucky. She got out with just High School Musical and the JoBros. I've been pulled in and I don't think there's a way out.
FYI, decent Disney artists in my book: Jonas Brothers (Paranoid = love), Mitchel Musso (In Crowd = sing along), Demi Levato (dat girl got lungs!).
7.30.2009
My night without shoes
I love telling this story and rarely get the chance to explain it fully because it just takes too much time to tell only a little bit of action, but I thought that any readers needed a lighthearted read after my last post, so here we go. It takes place the second Friday of the school year, but I feel you need a little bit of background on how the year was going so far.
My first two weeks of college opened my eyes a lot. My roommate, whom I meshed with perfectly on paper, turned out to be a bit more wild than I anticipated, so we got off to a rocky start. The girls in my hall all seemed more interested in fraternity parties than comparing schedules and the boys...well, boys will be boys. It was like they were at camp for the first time, each one claiming his turf while trying to impress whichever girl happened to be watching. That sounds more like an Animal Planet special, actually. I had met a lot of people, mainly thanks to my roommate. My classes were boring; I felt like I chose the wrong college. I was overwhelmed and wanted nothing more than to hide out in my room like a hermit. The first weekend was Labor Day weekend. I went to my boyfriend's apartment 6 hours away and spent most of the weekend complaining to him how awful it was, fretting about the return and how to survive the rest of the school year.
On the eve of my night without shoes, it seemed surviving the first two weeks of college was enough reason to celebrate with a dorm party in the boys hall. My roommate had already cozyed up to one of the boys living in the room that was hosting it and she invited me to attend. I agreed, planning only to stay for 10 minutes, then return to Guitar Hero in our room. When I got there, they were mixing drinks (mainly vodka and whatever fruity drink they had), playing Halo/Call of Duty/other popular multi-player FPS and smoking weed in the far corner by the open window. I recognized a couple of people - an older guy I had met my first night at the college, some other people my roommate had introduced me to, two girls in my Journalism class, and a girl who I had met at dinner that very day. We shall call this young lady R.
R was on her way to another party with her track friends from high school. These friends were a girl we shall call C (who lived right across the hall from me) and a male senior we shall call D. D's friends were the ones hosting the party and he had promised C and R that he would take them to a proper college party in the first month of school. They were cashing in tonight, and also doing him a favor. D was only attending the party because he felt like he had to. He had recently drunkenly made out with the host's best friend and was terribly guilty about the situation and needed to clear it up with her group. C and R were moral support.
How do I know this? When R was leaving the dorm party to meet her friends, two RA's walked by. They noticed the large number of people and entered the room. I was in the doorway when they walked in. As soon as the female RA opened her mouth, I was hit with an overwhelming urge to run away as fast as I could. Call it fight-or-flight or whatever, I just knew that I had to get out of there. I had my ID card in my right back pocket, my cell phone in my left back, my key in my front left. I was set. R and her friends were at the elevators. They had seen the RA's and decided to leave while they could. I asked if I could come with.
It isn't until we are all in C's car, driving to D's apartment that I realize that I don't have any shoes on. I was too busy trying to process that I had just ran away from getting written up for being in the same room as alcohol and drugs. My roommate was texting me, telling me to just stay in the room. C and D were trying to introduce themselves but none of it really sunk in until D pointed out that I didn't have shoes on. "Do you want to turn around?" he asked. "Not really. I don't want to go back there. What if they know it's me who left?" The others look around, wondering why the agreed to take the girl currently freaking out in the backseat. R is nice enough to change the subject, hoping to calm me down, maybe stop me from shaking. "What's your major?" D and I realize that we share similar interests, so we get to talking about cameras while the others listen, uninterested, until we reach D's apartment.
D's roommates are at their apartment getting ready to head out to other parties. All three stop and ask me where my shoes are. Each time I turned so red, you would have thought they were asking personal questions about my love life or something. As I had this thought, I realized that I had a cell phone in my pocket that I could contact my boyfriend with. This calms me a little, but the prospect of attending a party where there would be more hard alcohol, illegal substances and general debauchery made me panic even more. I was a good kid, I never drank or smoked and, for the most part, my group didn't either. In fact, I made a point to stray away from those who did.
When we arrive at the party, I feel completely lost. I didn't have a very good grasp of where I was in the city and it was already pretty late so I was a bit tired. Most of the people there were seniors and over 21. There were more guys than girls, but I guess that's kind of typical because no one seemed to care too much. The girls weren't in any state to care. After five minutes at the party, I completely understood how you get those crazy pictures of girls all over each other looking stupid. The rest of the night is kind of a blur. Some drunk dudes come over and try to dance with us girls, who are drinking very little (I think they were doing that for my benefit and I'll always appreciate it). I spent most of the night in a state of shock. It was just a normal party, but it was my first experience around this scene. And I had no shoes.
By the end of the night D is completely trashed and R is getting there. C drives us home about 4am. I enter the room quietly as to not wake up my roommate, but she is still up, waiting for me. I think this is the first night I know that she actually cares about me. She said that she knew I would be a bit freaked out and she was here if I wanted to talk. I was too tired to really appreciate this at the time, but took it up the next afternoon when we examined my socks. I swear, if anyone ever takes the time to go through my socks they will find a pair darker than the rest. No amount of Shout could return them to the same level of dirt of my other pairs.
After that night I knew I could survive at my university. I felt more welcomed by my roommate's (and soon my) group. I made friends in my classes and in my hall. I thought of this because I recently did my laundry. I was trying to match my socks based on how worn out they were and I found the socks from that night...they were the only ones I could match.
My first two weeks of college opened my eyes a lot. My roommate, whom I meshed with perfectly on paper, turned out to be a bit more wild than I anticipated, so we got off to a rocky start. The girls in my hall all seemed more interested in fraternity parties than comparing schedules and the boys...well, boys will be boys. It was like they were at camp for the first time, each one claiming his turf while trying to impress whichever girl happened to be watching. That sounds more like an Animal Planet special, actually. I had met a lot of people, mainly thanks to my roommate. My classes were boring; I felt like I chose the wrong college. I was overwhelmed and wanted nothing more than to hide out in my room like a hermit. The first weekend was Labor Day weekend. I went to my boyfriend's apartment 6 hours away and spent most of the weekend complaining to him how awful it was, fretting about the return and how to survive the rest of the school year.
On the eve of my night without shoes, it seemed surviving the first two weeks of college was enough reason to celebrate with a dorm party in the boys hall. My roommate had already cozyed up to one of the boys living in the room that was hosting it and she invited me to attend. I agreed, planning only to stay for 10 minutes, then return to Guitar Hero in our room. When I got there, they were mixing drinks (mainly vodka and whatever fruity drink they had), playing Halo/Call of Duty/other popular multi-player FPS and smoking weed in the far corner by the open window. I recognized a couple of people - an older guy I had met my first night at the college, some other people my roommate had introduced me to, two girls in my Journalism class, and a girl who I had met at dinner that very day. We shall call this young lady R.
R was on her way to another party with her track friends from high school. These friends were a girl we shall call C (who lived right across the hall from me) and a male senior we shall call D. D's friends were the ones hosting the party and he had promised C and R that he would take them to a proper college party in the first month of school. They were cashing in tonight, and also doing him a favor. D was only attending the party because he felt like he had to. He had recently drunkenly made out with the host's best friend and was terribly guilty about the situation and needed to clear it up with her group. C and R were moral support.
How do I know this? When R was leaving the dorm party to meet her friends, two RA's walked by. They noticed the large number of people and entered the room. I was in the doorway when they walked in. As soon as the female RA opened her mouth, I was hit with an overwhelming urge to run away as fast as I could. Call it fight-or-flight or whatever, I just knew that I had to get out of there. I had my ID card in my right back pocket, my cell phone in my left back, my key in my front left. I was set. R and her friends were at the elevators. They had seen the RA's and decided to leave while they could. I asked if I could come with.
It isn't until we are all in C's car, driving to D's apartment that I realize that I don't have any shoes on. I was too busy trying to process that I had just ran away from getting written up for being in the same room as alcohol and drugs. My roommate was texting me, telling me to just stay in the room. C and D were trying to introduce themselves but none of it really sunk in until D pointed out that I didn't have shoes on. "Do you want to turn around?" he asked. "Not really. I don't want to go back there. What if they know it's me who left?" The others look around, wondering why the agreed to take the girl currently freaking out in the backseat. R is nice enough to change the subject, hoping to calm me down, maybe stop me from shaking. "What's your major?" D and I realize that we share similar interests, so we get to talking about cameras while the others listen, uninterested, until we reach D's apartment.
D's roommates are at their apartment getting ready to head out to other parties. All three stop and ask me where my shoes are. Each time I turned so red, you would have thought they were asking personal questions about my love life or something. As I had this thought, I realized that I had a cell phone in my pocket that I could contact my boyfriend with. This calms me a little, but the prospect of attending a party where there would be more hard alcohol, illegal substances and general debauchery made me panic even more. I was a good kid, I never drank or smoked and, for the most part, my group didn't either. In fact, I made a point to stray away from those who did.
When we arrive at the party, I feel completely lost. I didn't have a very good grasp of where I was in the city and it was already pretty late so I was a bit tired. Most of the people there were seniors and over 21. There were more guys than girls, but I guess that's kind of typical because no one seemed to care too much. The girls weren't in any state to care. After five minutes at the party, I completely understood how you get those crazy pictures of girls all over each other looking stupid. The rest of the night is kind of a blur. Some drunk dudes come over and try to dance with us girls, who are drinking very little (I think they were doing that for my benefit and I'll always appreciate it). I spent most of the night in a state of shock. It was just a normal party, but it was my first experience around this scene. And I had no shoes.
By the end of the night D is completely trashed and R is getting there. C drives us home about 4am. I enter the room quietly as to not wake up my roommate, but she is still up, waiting for me. I think this is the first night I know that she actually cares about me. She said that she knew I would be a bit freaked out and she was here if I wanted to talk. I was too tired to really appreciate this at the time, but took it up the next afternoon when we examined my socks. I swear, if anyone ever takes the time to go through my socks they will find a pair darker than the rest. No amount of Shout could return them to the same level of dirt of my other pairs.
After that night I knew I could survive at my university. I felt more welcomed by my roommate's (and soon my) group. I made friends in my classes and in my hall. I thought of this because I recently did my laundry. I was trying to match my socks based on how worn out they were and I found the socks from that night...they were the only ones I could match.
7.26.2009
A case of the worries
My apologies, this post will diverge from the general topic of college and branch into a whole bunch of things.
I've been thinking a lot about the future lately. About a lot of different futures in a lot of different points in my life that can go a lot of different ways. I kinda just want to get them out, but I'm not entirely sure how to begin.
I guess I'll start with the closest. I want to volunteer at the local Humane Society for the rest of summer. It probably won't happen because they make you take a information course, but it's only offered the 3rd (insert weekday that I forget here) every month. And this month's passed by the time I came up with this brilliant idea and the next one held is the week before I go back to school. Load of good that does me. But...at least I have ideas for what to do when I'm bored during a break? Of course, I won't have many of those in the future.
I'm so scared about living in an apartment next year. There is someone there who wasn't in the "original line-up" and this person might just make my life hell. At least I'm taking charge of the bills. That should be fun. And that means I should get the mailbox key! I'm kind of excited about checking mail everyday. I used to love doing that as a kid.
I want to take a whole bunch of cruises and I can't get that stupid idea out of my head no matter how many times I look at cruises and be like, "Ok, see these? Now put them aside and bring them up when you actually have the means to take a cruise oh a whim."
I want to go to Alaska with my mom and only my mom. I want to bond with her before it's too late. I feel like I know nothing about what my parents were like before they were parents and that sucks. I finally realize that I don't know my family. I mentioned it to her in passing and she was like, "Not this summer, right?" I said no, the next, but that makes me worried too b/c I'm going to Japan next summer! How will it fit?! And my brother graduates high school! I can't miss that! But that means the cruise would have to be in the maybe 2 weeks I have after school gets out and before my brother graduates and my dad and brother won't want to take care of the dogs!
My boyfriend wants to take a cruise to somewhere warm so I thought of the Caribbean. Perfect winter break idea. Week after holidays, right before school starts. But that means we can't go to California like we did last winter break. Or to Colorado to ski like we kind of planned last year (we were sleep deprived and almost decided to take an extra weekend to ski in Colorado meaning we get back almost midnight the day he goes back to school). Or go to NYC like I kind of wanted.
Kinda speaking of my boyfriend, from time to time one of us will say something about after college and it's always assumed we'll be together. Living together, taking vacations together, working in the same city-ish. That's a really big assumption to make and I think we both know that we'll take any job we can get, but it's weird thinking we could be on completely opposite ends of the country. But that's still 2 years away until I have to deal with that one. I'm not even going to get into the possibilities of more than 2 years with him. Not this publicly, not when I'm being this candid.
Oh, going back to cruises, there's my desire to take a cruise and hit Italy and France and Spain and maybe Greece again. Egypt would be cool too. After a 7 to 10 day cruise, I could spend no more than a week hitting other major European cities. Actually, a friend put the idea in my head and it's something I would like to do with a group after we graduate college (the group in my head are all HS grads from 08). But I graduate a semester early, one member is going onto med school, another is on a completely different school schedule than the others...I don't know the details of the others but I'm sure there will be issues there too. No clue how that will work.
I'm worried about going to Japan and how I'll do with my host family since I'm not taking a language course this year. I'm afraid I will get lost - I'll need to make sure to bring my GPS with me. Hopefully that will do the trick. I'm not sure who will go next summer since it's usually a lot of freshman and I don't know them. Ugh, I hope someone from my year-ish considers going. It will make me a lot more comfortable.
Now that I'm on the college topic, I'm taking two journalism courses next semester and I cannot wait to get started on those. But I don't know what to expect and one is writing intensive and I really need to do well so I can get into my sequence early...I think I'm going to turn this future concern into a separate blog post. It's kind of important.
So somewhere in all that cruise talk, my boyfriend mentioned that boats sink. Even though I assured him of the boat's safety that got me thinking about my death. The absence of everything. I'm less scared than I used to be, but only when I think about dying at an old age, having fulfilled everything I want to do (family aspects not included, many of those things are hinted at in this post) - like that one Scrubs episode where a patient (an old lady) doesn't want her family to know she will die soon. JD doesn't understand how she can be so calm about death. He creates a list of things he thinks people should do before they die and reads it to her during his afternoon off. The dying woman has done everything, but points out that he probably hasn't done more than a handful. She tells him to go out, enjoy his day off and to work on that list. I want to be that woman! I have a small list of things in my head, but it's more of a "do before you're 30" list.
All this boils down to is that I have a lot of things I want to do and no clue how to make it happen. Yet. I just need to calm down and trust that when it gets closer to when I can actually do these things I will follow through.
I think in the meantime I'm just going to blog surf and flip through the infinite number of cruises out there. That calms me down enough for me to sleep.
I've been thinking a lot about the future lately. About a lot of different futures in a lot of different points in my life that can go a lot of different ways. I kinda just want to get them out, but I'm not entirely sure how to begin.
I guess I'll start with the closest. I want to volunteer at the local Humane Society for the rest of summer. It probably won't happen because they make you take a information course, but it's only offered the 3rd (insert weekday that I forget here) every month. And this month's passed by the time I came up with this brilliant idea and the next one held is the week before I go back to school. Load of good that does me. But...at least I have ideas for what to do when I'm bored during a break? Of course, I won't have many of those in the future.
I'm so scared about living in an apartment next year. There is someone there who wasn't in the "original line-up" and this person might just make my life hell. At least I'm taking charge of the bills. That should be fun. And that means I should get the mailbox key! I'm kind of excited about checking mail everyday. I used to love doing that as a kid.
I want to take a whole bunch of cruises and I can't get that stupid idea out of my head no matter how many times I look at cruises and be like, "Ok, see these? Now put them aside and bring them up when you actually have the means to take a cruise oh a whim."
I want to go to Alaska with my mom and only my mom. I want to bond with her before it's too late. I feel like I know nothing about what my parents were like before they were parents and that sucks. I finally realize that I don't know my family. I mentioned it to her in passing and she was like, "Not this summer, right?" I said no, the next, but that makes me worried too b/c I'm going to Japan next summer! How will it fit?! And my brother graduates high school! I can't miss that! But that means the cruise would have to be in the maybe 2 weeks I have after school gets out and before my brother graduates and my dad and brother won't want to take care of the dogs!
My boyfriend wants to take a cruise to somewhere warm so I thought of the Caribbean. Perfect winter break idea. Week after holidays, right before school starts. But that means we can't go to California like we did last winter break. Or to Colorado to ski like we kind of planned last year (we were sleep deprived and almost decided to take an extra weekend to ski in Colorado meaning we get back almost midnight the day he goes back to school). Or go to NYC like I kind of wanted.
Kinda speaking of my boyfriend, from time to time one of us will say something about after college and it's always assumed we'll be together. Living together, taking vacations together, working in the same city-ish. That's a really big assumption to make and I think we both know that we'll take any job we can get, but it's weird thinking we could be on completely opposite ends of the country. But that's still 2 years away until I have to deal with that one. I'm not even going to get into the possibilities of more than 2 years with him. Not this publicly, not when I'm being this candid.
Oh, going back to cruises, there's my desire to take a cruise and hit Italy and France and Spain and maybe Greece again. Egypt would be cool too. After a 7 to 10 day cruise, I could spend no more than a week hitting other major European cities. Actually, a friend put the idea in my head and it's something I would like to do with a group after we graduate college (the group in my head are all HS grads from 08). But I graduate a semester early, one member is going onto med school, another is on a completely different school schedule than the others...I don't know the details of the others but I'm sure there will be issues there too. No clue how that will work.
I'm worried about going to Japan and how I'll do with my host family since I'm not taking a language course this year. I'm afraid I will get lost - I'll need to make sure to bring my GPS with me. Hopefully that will do the trick. I'm not sure who will go next summer since it's usually a lot of freshman and I don't know them. Ugh, I hope someone from my year-ish considers going. It will make me a lot more comfortable.
Now that I'm on the college topic, I'm taking two journalism courses next semester and I cannot wait to get started on those. But I don't know what to expect and one is writing intensive and I really need to do well so I can get into my sequence early...I think I'm going to turn this future concern into a separate blog post. It's kind of important.
So somewhere in all that cruise talk, my boyfriend mentioned that boats sink. Even though I assured him of the boat's safety that got me thinking about my death. The absence of everything. I'm less scared than I used to be, but only when I think about dying at an old age, having fulfilled everything I want to do (family aspects not included, many of those things are hinted at in this post) - like that one Scrubs episode where a patient (an old lady) doesn't want her family to know she will die soon. JD doesn't understand how she can be so calm about death. He creates a list of things he thinks people should do before they die and reads it to her during his afternoon off. The dying woman has done everything, but points out that he probably hasn't done more than a handful. She tells him to go out, enjoy his day off and to work on that list. I want to be that woman! I have a small list of things in my head, but it's more of a "do before you're 30" list.
All this boils down to is that I have a lot of things I want to do and no clue how to make it happen. Yet. I just need to calm down and trust that when it gets closer to when I can actually do these things I will follow through.
I think in the meantime I'm just going to blog surf and flip through the infinite number of cruises out there. That calms me down enough for me to sleep.
7.11.2009
Making it All Fit
Late first semester, a girl across the hall had a project that inspired me to create a plan of study. Nearly every class I needed to take was on an Excel spreadsheet, organized into neat charts explaining what that course was, what requirement it fulfilled and when I would be taking it. I created a table to show the courses I was taking by semester and their hours, added these up by semester and totaled them all together to make sure I met the requirements to graduate. I made sure everything fit into the three and a half years I planned on staying at the university (I brought a in lot of previous credits). I had it all planned out. I was a Photojournalism major with three minors. I was good to go. I never had to worry about my courses again.
But then...my first minor was dropped due to lack of funding. Actually, according to an email from the school over the summer, this minor is once again available...gee, thanks university for causing all this for no reason! It's not solely that department's fault though. After doing a bit more research, I didn't really like the second minor. I thought it went nice with Photojournalism, but many of the courses didn't relate or interest me so I would have dropped that anyway. This left me scrambling, seeing if I could find another possible minor that would interest me. I had empty spots in my charts to fill! Certainly nothing scientific. Math was out of the question. I considered English for a while (my university supposedly has a decent English program), but there were too many choices to make. I couldn't pick up another foreign language and everything else just seemed totally unrelated to journalism. So I looked into the Japanese major.
Japanese is hidden at my school. The courses are not listed in the Romance Languages and Literature department, but in the German and Russian Studies department. If you want to minor or major in it, however, you have to go to the Special Degree Programs department. Technically, my second major is International Studies with an emphasis on East Asian Studies. I am often tempted to add "specifically Japan" on the end, just because it sounds so pretentious. Honestly, it's for clarification. Now I just say Japanese. If my professor caught me saying that, he would lecture me, so shhh, don't tell.
After clearing my three minors from my spreadsheet, I faced the daunting task of looking up a whole new set of requirements for my new major. I also had to work in 12 more credits, since to double major at my university you need that many more credits to graduate...it makes no sense to me. I filled enough spaces with blank three credit hour courses, distributing the course load as evenly as possible. It still fits in three and a half years. Barely. I am at or just under the limit of hours you can take without special permission almost the whole way through. I have no room for error. If I mess up anywhere, my whole schedule is thrown off. That's why I won't. I have worked my tail off for a year to make sure that I can keep this semester early graduation. I will work my tail until I see this through.
Most people who double major take an extra semester or an extra year to graduate. I'm taking one less than what is expected for one major. My adviser doesn't think I will be able to do it, but I know I can.
But then...my first minor was dropped due to lack of funding. Actually, according to an email from the school over the summer, this minor is once again available...gee, thanks university for causing all this for no reason! It's not solely that department's fault though. After doing a bit more research, I didn't really like the second minor. I thought it went nice with Photojournalism, but many of the courses didn't relate or interest me so I would have dropped that anyway. This left me scrambling, seeing if I could find another possible minor that would interest me. I had empty spots in my charts to fill! Certainly nothing scientific. Math was out of the question. I considered English for a while (my university supposedly has a decent English program), but there were too many choices to make. I couldn't pick up another foreign language and everything else just seemed totally unrelated to journalism. So I looked into the Japanese major.
Japanese is hidden at my school. The courses are not listed in the Romance Languages and Literature department, but in the German and Russian Studies department. If you want to minor or major in it, however, you have to go to the Special Degree Programs department. Technically, my second major is International Studies with an emphasis on East Asian Studies. I am often tempted to add "specifically Japan" on the end, just because it sounds so pretentious. Honestly, it's for clarification. Now I just say Japanese. If my professor caught me saying that, he would lecture me, so shhh, don't tell.
After clearing my three minors from my spreadsheet, I faced the daunting task of looking up a whole new set of requirements for my new major. I also had to work in 12 more credits, since to double major at my university you need that many more credits to graduate...it makes no sense to me. I filled enough spaces with blank three credit hour courses, distributing the course load as evenly as possible. It still fits in three and a half years. Barely. I am at or just under the limit of hours you can take without special permission almost the whole way through. I have no room for error. If I mess up anywhere, my whole schedule is thrown off. That's why I won't. I have worked my tail off for a year to make sure that I can keep this semester early graduation. I will work my tail until I see this through.
Most people who double major take an extra semester or an extra year to graduate. I'm taking one less than what is expected for one major. My adviser doesn't think I will be able to do it, but I know I can.
7.10.2009
Decisions, Decisions
We all make a lot of decisions in our lives. That sounds so typical. What I really mean is that we make decisions about who our friends are. This effects who we become. It effects our choices when it comes to our majors. A bit of a stretch, but let me explain.
As I've mentioned, I used to live in California. Northern California. Silicon Valley, if you must know, but I won't get more specific than that. I went to public school. I've always gone to public school. Well, save for preschool, but that's never public, it's glorified babysitting. I digress. My point with this is that my friends in Silicon Valley were very typical students in Silicon Valley with very typical families in Silicon Valley. Their parents are business men and women, people who work for Yahoo and eBay. They are engineers who work for IBM and Google. They are doctors and medical researchers. This is what I grew up in. A competitive region where you are only as good as your SAT score. Where your friends help you, but secretly pray that you just bombed the latest test. Where AP classes are expected to be taken and aced (IB had yet to break onto the scene, but I am sure it is comparable to AP). Where if an AP class is unavailable an honors course will suffice. Where, by the age of 16, you have your life pretty much set. You know what you want. You know how you will get there. Your parents support this. Your friends support it.
Most of my friends had dreams of becoming successful in ways very similar to their parents. And now that we are in college, most are starting on the path that will lead them to this dream. Some are business majors. Some are computer science majors. Some are engineering majors. Some are biology and chemistry majors in preparation for medical school post graduation. The few that took the arts path want to end up in video game design. I cannot think of a single person who is not planning to graduate with a bachelors degree in more than four years, even if they are double majoring.
Please compare this to the two states in the Midwest where I now have friends. The environment is the same. Their parents are doctors and medical researchers and business men and women and engineers. We had SAT tutors and competed against each other for the top spots in everything academic. Yet, for some reason I can't explain, most are undecided. They want to join fraternities and sororities. Most have a desire to be in the liberal arts. Some want to be successful entrepreneurs. There are the handful that want to be doctors or engineers, but these are far and few between.
The overall environment is the same. The upbringing is similar. So why such dramatically different results? Where did my friends from the Midwest make that choice, that decision, to stray away from the path their parents laid out for them? I can't answer these questions for them, nor do I wish to. I do wish that my Midwest friends could be the same way as my California friends. I think the world would be better off with more driven people.
As I've mentioned, I used to live in California. Northern California. Silicon Valley, if you must know, but I won't get more specific than that. I went to public school. I've always gone to public school. Well, save for preschool, but that's never public, it's glorified babysitting. I digress. My point with this is that my friends in Silicon Valley were very typical students in Silicon Valley with very typical families in Silicon Valley. Their parents are business men and women, people who work for Yahoo and eBay. They are engineers who work for IBM and Google. They are doctors and medical researchers. This is what I grew up in. A competitive region where you are only as good as your SAT score. Where your friends help you, but secretly pray that you just bombed the latest test. Where AP classes are expected to be taken and aced (IB had yet to break onto the scene, but I am sure it is comparable to AP). Where if an AP class is unavailable an honors course will suffice. Where, by the age of 16, you have your life pretty much set. You know what you want. You know how you will get there. Your parents support this. Your friends support it.
Most of my friends had dreams of becoming successful in ways very similar to their parents. And now that we are in college, most are starting on the path that will lead them to this dream. Some are business majors. Some are computer science majors. Some are engineering majors. Some are biology and chemistry majors in preparation for medical school post graduation. The few that took the arts path want to end up in video game design. I cannot think of a single person who is not planning to graduate with a bachelors degree in more than four years, even if they are double majoring.
Please compare this to the two states in the Midwest where I now have friends. The environment is the same. Their parents are doctors and medical researchers and business men and women and engineers. We had SAT tutors and competed against each other for the top spots in everything academic. Yet, for some reason I can't explain, most are undecided. They want to join fraternities and sororities. Most have a desire to be in the liberal arts. Some want to be successful entrepreneurs. There are the handful that want to be doctors or engineers, but these are far and few between.
The overall environment is the same. The upbringing is similar. So why such dramatically different results? Where did my friends from the Midwest make that choice, that decision, to stray away from the path their parents laid out for them? I can't answer these questions for them, nor do I wish to. I do wish that my Midwest friends could be the same way as my California friends. I think the world would be better off with more driven people.
7.09.2009
Postponing Graduation
It's been a while since I talked about the academic aspects of college here, so I'll start with my plan before delving into the real reason I'm writing.
I am between my freshman and sophomore years. My major is photojournalism. I was going to have three minors (Japanese, Art and Psychology) but one of them doesn't have enough funding so it's status as a minor is questionable and the turned out to be not quite what I expected, so I am now double majoring in International Studies with an emphasis on East Asian Studies. All that is a lengthy way to say I am majoring in Japanese. I will study abroad the summer between my sophomore and junior years in Japan to fulfill my Int'l Studies requirement of studying abroad for four weeks or more. I will get six credits in upper level Japanese courses from this.
I will graduate in three and a half years.
No, I don't mean four and a half. I mean three and a half. No, not from this point in time. I mean overall. It will take me three and a half years to graduate with a double major. I'm not pulling any crazy stunts, I'm not taking more credits than are allowed without special permission.
I'm kind of proud of this fact. My parents are kind of stunned since my mom was a teacher and had to go to grad school and my dad switched majors so he had to take an extra year, but I think they're proud. They think I'm overwhelming myself, but don't say that to my face. Hooray for loyal siblings still at home to inform me of the truth.
Now that you know my general plan of study, allow me to talk about one of my friend's plan of study.
She is a Mechanical Engineering (ME) major, Spanish and math minor. It takes most people four and a half years (or four years and a summer) to graduate with a ME degree and Math minor. She will be taking six years and two summers, at least. The reason? She wants to study abroad a semester and take random classes because she likes their titles. Sound harsh? It is. But it gets even better.
I've been helping her make her plan of study since the end of last semester, but it's impossible because every other week, just as I'm finishing up the plan, she will come back to me changing something or other. "Leave room each semester so I can take a fun class." That'd be fine, but she's only taking the minimum credits required to be a full time student and struggling to pass all her classes. She has no room for fun. "I don't want to take three mechanical engineering classes at the same time." Later on, she's supposed to take that many; it's what the school tells you to do. I'm just trying to get her back on track for next year. Speaking of tracks, it's really difficult to try and keep her on any track. She just keeps jumping around. I almost want to tell her it would just be better if she went to a community college while working part time. She could explore her interests and not have to deal with working toward an ultimate goal. Then, when she is ready to finish her degree, she can attend the university we attend now, go heavy duty on the ME courses, be done in less than two years. It'd be cheaper too, but she has a full ride from a third party, so that doesn't matter.
Part of me thinks she just doesn't want to graduate. She doesn't know what she'll do with herself when someone isn't there to guide her. She's got a great personality, but she has no common sense. She can't and won't survive in the real world. She has no sense of who she is, and though she has big dreams of who she wants to become, no time frame or means of getting there.
Another example of someone who wants to stay in college. The first week of college, I met a 21 year old sophomore who has not taken a year off since high school. He has switched majors multiple times, but has finally settled on History. He attended community college for two years where he tore through three majors, a handful of minors and one study abroad attempt. Because of this conglomeration of courses, he transferred in as a sophomore. He attended my university for a year, but at the end of the second semester, he dropped out of my university and decided to go to another community college. He gave no reason for this. His academics were good. Even he claimed that the university I attend is the only public school in the state that will give him a decent degree in what he wants.
So why did he change schools? In our many conversations, I could never get my head around the fact that he was 21 (now 22) and only a sophomore. He comes across as a guy who knows what he wants in life. When we talked about the future, he had realistic goals and knew of ways to make these goals reality. I think he lives his life in slow motion. Graduate by the time I'm 30, marry by the time I'm 40, kids by 50.
I don't understand people like this. I plan to graduate early and most everyone else I know will graduate in four years - unless they are double majoring or are going on to some form of graduate school.
Actually, this leads me to want to compare some people, but I'll save that for my next post. I'm going to be updating this more frequently. I'll try to focus on topics related to college, but I might return to just talking about my life. I'll let you know when this happens.
I am between my freshman and sophomore years. My major is photojournalism. I was going to have three minors (Japanese, Art and Psychology) but one of them doesn't have enough funding so it's status as a minor is questionable and the turned out to be not quite what I expected, so I am now double majoring in International Studies with an emphasis on East Asian Studies. All that is a lengthy way to say I am majoring in Japanese. I will study abroad the summer between my sophomore and junior years in Japan to fulfill my Int'l Studies requirement of studying abroad for four weeks or more. I will get six credits in upper level Japanese courses from this.
I will graduate in three and a half years.
No, I don't mean four and a half. I mean three and a half. No, not from this point in time. I mean overall. It will take me three and a half years to graduate with a double major. I'm not pulling any crazy stunts, I'm not taking more credits than are allowed without special permission.
I'm kind of proud of this fact. My parents are kind of stunned since my mom was a teacher and had to go to grad school and my dad switched majors so he had to take an extra year, but I think they're proud. They think I'm overwhelming myself, but don't say that to my face. Hooray for loyal siblings still at home to inform me of the truth.
Now that you know my general plan of study, allow me to talk about one of my friend's plan of study.
She is a Mechanical Engineering (ME) major, Spanish and math minor. It takes most people four and a half years (or four years and a summer) to graduate with a ME degree and Math minor. She will be taking six years and two summers, at least. The reason? She wants to study abroad a semester and take random classes because she likes their titles. Sound harsh? It is. But it gets even better.
I've been helping her make her plan of study since the end of last semester, but it's impossible because every other week, just as I'm finishing up the plan, she will come back to me changing something or other. "Leave room each semester so I can take a fun class." That'd be fine, but she's only taking the minimum credits required to be a full time student and struggling to pass all her classes. She has no room for fun. "I don't want to take three mechanical engineering classes at the same time." Later on, she's supposed to take that many; it's what the school tells you to do. I'm just trying to get her back on track for next year. Speaking of tracks, it's really difficult to try and keep her on any track. She just keeps jumping around. I almost want to tell her it would just be better if she went to a community college while working part time. She could explore her interests and not have to deal with working toward an ultimate goal. Then, when she is ready to finish her degree, she can attend the university we attend now, go heavy duty on the ME courses, be done in less than two years. It'd be cheaper too, but she has a full ride from a third party, so that doesn't matter.
Part of me thinks she just doesn't want to graduate. She doesn't know what she'll do with herself when someone isn't there to guide her. She's got a great personality, but she has no common sense. She can't and won't survive in the real world. She has no sense of who she is, and though she has big dreams of who she wants to become, no time frame or means of getting there.
Another example of someone who wants to stay in college. The first week of college, I met a 21 year old sophomore who has not taken a year off since high school. He has switched majors multiple times, but has finally settled on History. He attended community college for two years where he tore through three majors, a handful of minors and one study abroad attempt. Because of this conglomeration of courses, he transferred in as a sophomore. He attended my university for a year, but at the end of the second semester, he dropped out of my university and decided to go to another community college. He gave no reason for this. His academics were good. Even he claimed that the university I attend is the only public school in the state that will give him a decent degree in what he wants.
So why did he change schools? In our many conversations, I could never get my head around the fact that he was 21 (now 22) and only a sophomore. He comes across as a guy who knows what he wants in life. When we talked about the future, he had realistic goals and knew of ways to make these goals reality. I think he lives his life in slow motion. Graduate by the time I'm 30, marry by the time I'm 40, kids by 50.
I don't understand people like this. I plan to graduate early and most everyone else I know will graduate in four years - unless they are double majoring or are going on to some form of graduate school.
Actually, this leads me to want to compare some people, but I'll save that for my next post. I'm going to be updating this more frequently. I'll try to focus on topics related to college, but I might return to just talking about my life. I'll let you know when this happens.
1.25.2009
There are...
Two people standing outside my door, making out.
Three hours until wish time.
Four people laughing in the room next door.
Five days until I am back home.
Six people who dislike me in this hall for my association with one person.
Seven weeks until spring break.
Eight people I can't live without.
Nine seconds until I see if people want to go get dinner.
Ten people who will probably never know their importance to me.
Three hours until wish time.
Four people laughing in the room next door.
Five days until I am back home.
Six people who dislike me in this hall for my association with one person.
Seven weeks until spring break.
Eight people I can't live without.
Nine seconds until I see if people want to go get dinner.
Ten people who will probably never know their importance to me.
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