So now I'm at college playing pretend adult and it is freakin' weird.
I spent my first full day in this big little community and now I'll spend my second night. Tonight will be the first time my roommate stays here (it's her third night) so we are still working out all those things that roommates often have to work out. It's going to be a very interesting year.
Today, I flipped my bed upside down with all my friends (thank you!), I went to Pizza House (tried the feta bread, don't worry), watched tv (awkward.) in my friends's dorm mansion, ate spaghetti, and went to Meijer Mania. That was my most hectic and crowded trip to Meijer(s), but at least I got to see my one friend J from orientation for a little! He asked me to join his band then, but I guess the offers off the table now. We entered Meijer(s) to the happy claps and cheers of peppy people from the University.
This brings me to the real topic of this post today. Get ready! It's going to be everything you imagine and maybe a little more: random nothingness that didn't need to be written about, and wasn't written well. Oops. Well anyways...
One thing I have noticed while I am here is that everyone has big smiles on their faces, nice maize and blue clothing, and are very much "party people". I only know a few people who aren't so spirited, and who don't like to party, and I've known half of them since middle school. They never really had spirit. However, now it is shoved in front of us and I guess it's time to act like we care. VCR, C, and I don't really know how to go about doing this, since we really don't care that much (the big blue M staring me in the face when I arrived made me very uncomfortable) (I even brought my state yoga pants) but I guess we'll take a few pointers. My friends at other schools are very into the sequin and jazz hands that go along with being spirited, but it's just not our thing.
Oh well. Comment with any tips on how to be school spirited without having to really do anything or pay for anything.
Friday, August 31, 2012
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Firsts
Tonight is my first night in my dorm room.
I moved in yesterday but was lucky enough to come home for Jason Mraz's concert with my brother, his friend, and my friend. Row D! a,b,c,D!! It was amazing in case you were wondering. Christina Perri opened and she was great too, just by the way.
However now I'm back to my dorm room laying on top of my bed. Being under the covers, or even just the sheets, would cause any creature, cold or warm blooded, to die of heat. I came back with some things I forgot at home, but obviously, I still forgot some. The worst part is though, I forgot the most important thing of all at home. No, not my phone or my computer or chargers. Not my bike or batteries or funk night clothes. Actually, that stuff was forgotten, but is in no way important. I forgot my nunnies. In other words, I forgot my safety blankets. (I really hate that term: "safety blanket". I find it appalling. It's not like I don't feel safe without them, but they are mine and they should be here for my first night at college! It's just wrong without them! Almost everyone has one, and if they don't they have a safety blanket equivalent, so why is "safety blanket" the accepted term if it is just a blanket to everyone else?)
So tonight is a night of firsts. It is my first night at college, in my dorm room, on my dorm bed, across from two bathrooms-- college. It is also my first night for as long as I can remember without my nunnies, which is the worst.
Oh and it is my first night at college without Sugar. I miss sleeping with my puppy. She is like the living nunnie!
My advice to you: Double check your suitcase, duffel bag, or back pack. Otherwise, you may forget something you really don't want to, and you may really regret it. Oh and make accurate lists. Nunnies were not included in mine (I thought it went without saying to bring them).
That's all for my dorm adventures of the night. Maybe it'll get more interesting, maybe I'll like it more. For now, it's really just college, and I really just want my nunnies.
I moved in yesterday but was lucky enough to come home for Jason Mraz's concert with my brother, his friend, and my friend. Row D! a,b,c,D!! It was amazing in case you were wondering. Christina Perri opened and she was great too, just by the way.
However now I'm back to my dorm room laying on top of my bed. Being under the covers, or even just the sheets, would cause any creature, cold or warm blooded, to die of heat. I came back with some things I forgot at home, but obviously, I still forgot some. The worst part is though, I forgot the most important thing of all at home. No, not my phone or my computer or chargers. Not my bike or batteries or funk night clothes. Actually, that stuff was forgotten, but is in no way important. I forgot my nunnies. In other words, I forgot my safety blankets. (I really hate that term: "safety blanket". I find it appalling. It's not like I don't feel safe without them, but they are mine and they should be here for my first night at college! It's just wrong without them! Almost everyone has one, and if they don't they have a safety blanket equivalent, so why is "safety blanket" the accepted term if it is just a blanket to everyone else?)
So tonight is a night of firsts. It is my first night at college, in my dorm room, on my dorm bed, across from two bathrooms-- college. It is also my first night for as long as I can remember without my nunnies, which is the worst.
Oh and it is my first night at college without Sugar. I miss sleeping with my puppy. She is like the living nunnie!
My advice to you: Double check your suitcase, duffel bag, or back pack. Otherwise, you may forget something you really don't want to, and you may really regret it. Oh and make accurate lists. Nunnies were not included in mine (I thought it went without saying to bring them).
That's all for my dorm adventures of the night. Maybe it'll get more interesting, maybe I'll like it more. For now, it's really just college, and I really just want my nunnies.
Monday, August 27, 2012
Crying
As I prepare for my life after High School I realize I've been doing a lot of crying.
Some of those tears fall because I know how great my life has been and I am so unconditionally grateful. Other tears come from that pit in my stomach filled with fear at what's still to come. Learning about myself sounds scarier than meeting a ghost, or even a spider. And others still come from saying good bye to all the people I am used to seeing everyday, like my teachers, babysit-ees, best friends, ridiculous family, oh and my puppy, Sugar. I guess good bye isn't right, it's never good bye. It's just see you soon, or you'll be in my heart. Cheesy right? Hey, I'm an emotional wreck, give me a break!
So High School was great.
I had a few amazing teachers and a bunch of spectacular friends. I could sit in class for 90 minutes, or 61, and it would feel like five. I had the privilege of having excellent teachers multiple years in a row. It rocked! How else would I know when to use a comma, or how to use my TI? The only time during the Senior Walk that I cried was when I left them.
As for my friends: we could do absolutely nothing and still have fun. We could laugh at ourselves, take endless photo-booth pictures, dye our hair every color under the sea (Except green. No one liked green.), watch Shang sing, and porch sit every night. Hugging them good bye was like an explosion of Old Faithful, there was that much water.
A lot of the tears of fright that come with starting a new journey, and saying good bye to the path I just traveled for so long, sting a lot more than the ones that come along with happy memories from High School and before. I realize that I'm not the first one in the world to go to college. Not hardly. I'm not even the first one in my family, and I'm not even going that far (now those people are the real brave ones). I'm just Hannah. The nervous kid who hates change and is afraid of the unknown. I admitted it so that means I'm moving forward right? Whatever. I AM moving forward. I always will be. Maybe now I'll start getting excited. Everyone else is. Not that I'm trying to conform or anything, but it would be nice to trade a little of this fear for some happiness and excitement.
Everyone says it's going to be great. Part of me knows that's true. It doesn't really matter though. The tears keep on falling, and until I move Wednesday, I don't think they are going to stop. Ain't nothing wrong with a little crying.
Some of those tears fall because I know how great my life has been and I am so unconditionally grateful. Other tears come from that pit in my stomach filled with fear at what's still to come. Learning about myself sounds scarier than meeting a ghost, or even a spider. And others still come from saying good bye to all the people I am used to seeing everyday, like my teachers, babysit-ees, best friends, ridiculous family, oh and my puppy, Sugar. I guess good bye isn't right, it's never good bye. It's just see you soon, or you'll be in my heart. Cheesy right? Hey, I'm an emotional wreck, give me a break!
So High School was great.
I had a few amazing teachers and a bunch of spectacular friends. I could sit in class for 90 minutes, or 61, and it would feel like five. I had the privilege of having excellent teachers multiple years in a row. It rocked! How else would I know when to use a comma, or how to use my TI? The only time during the Senior Walk that I cried was when I left them.
As for my friends: we could do absolutely nothing and still have fun. We could laugh at ourselves, take endless photo-booth pictures, dye our hair every color under the sea (Except green. No one liked green.), watch Shang sing, and porch sit every night. Hugging them good bye was like an explosion of Old Faithful, there was that much water.
A lot of the tears of fright that come with starting a new journey, and saying good bye to the path I just traveled for so long, sting a lot more than the ones that come along with happy memories from High School and before. I realize that I'm not the first one in the world to go to college. Not hardly. I'm not even the first one in my family, and I'm not even going that far (now those people are the real brave ones). I'm just Hannah. The nervous kid who hates change and is afraid of the unknown. I admitted it so that means I'm moving forward right? Whatever. I AM moving forward. I always will be. Maybe now I'll start getting excited. Everyone else is. Not that I'm trying to conform or anything, but it would be nice to trade a little of this fear for some happiness and excitement.
Everyone says it's going to be great. Part of me knows that's true. It doesn't really matter though. The tears keep on falling, and until I move Wednesday, I don't think they are going to stop. Ain't nothing wrong with a little crying.
Sunday, August 26, 2012
Little Trees
You know how when you were younger you would come home from school hungrier than Chris McCandless, just begging to be fed by your mom, dad, bubby, zadie, sister, brother, babysitter, whoever? I know none of us were actually hungrier than McCandless, but when you're seven you really felt like it didn't you? Well, we all had our favorite snacks, but sometimes, day after day of the yummy deliciousness, we got tired of it. That's what happened to me. Broccoli was my killer food. I really did like it at one point, even the cooked kind. I remember feeling like a giant chowing down on my own little forest. However, after my mommy cooked it for me as my healthy snack, or green side-dish, enough, I really stopped enjoying the tiny trees. I just lost the taste for broccoli and ended up finding it practically inedible. I know this post isn't exactly the most interesting thing in the world, but I figured I'd get the ball rolling, dip my feet in the water if you will. Comment with any foods you stopped liking after overuse. I know I'm not alone with this. Also, I'd like to thank one of my favorite people, D, for the idea to write about this crazy food... and pogo sticks, which are a fantastically fun children's toy by the way.
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