I just received quite a gem of a voicemail.
Since this is a public blog, and since my name is on said public blog (great idea, Hol), I can't go into much detail.
In short, the voicemail questions the quality of my education, accuses me of stealing, and has a tone of overall doubt that I am a person worth leaving a voicemail for.
I'm keeping this one forever.
I have it saved.
Because you know what?
I've never had a problem with being young. I've never hated my age because "adults don't take me seriously." Adults do take me seriously. At least, all the adults I've been lucky enough to know so far do. I rarely feel like I'm being talked down to, I rarely feel like what I have to say holds no weight. Maybe this is just a side effect of being a college student; college is like the real world, except you're treated better, I guess.
In the real world, however, as this voicemail so kindly informs me, if you're under 25, you don't really count. You're ill-equipped.
Sure I'm ill-equipped. But what if you equip me before you jump down my throat for my lack of competence? What if you tell me how before blaming me for not knowing how? What if you answer my questions without sneering at me for having them in the first place?
It's like in my German class when we would look at a series of pictures with captions and put them into order. It doesn't make sense for Jens to get a D on his test before he even takes the test. It doesn't make sense for Jutta to be grounded before she even breaks the vase.
Evidently, Jens and Jutta only exist in Beginning German.
Showing posts with label College. Show all posts
Showing posts with label College. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Monday, March 28, 2011
Mine Does
What kind of university lets a group of students sit in a room for five and a half hours
and decide which pieces of technology are worthy of being invested in?
What kind of university gives said students more than $200,000 to invest?
Mine does.
and decide which pieces of technology are worthy of being invested in?
What kind of university gives said students more than $200,000 to invest?
Mine does.
Friday, March 25, 2011
Drag Show
I ask you:
How many of you spend four and a half hours in tech fee hearings
(and while it is great that students get so much power,
allocating 150,000 dollars and all)
and by the end feel tired enough to drop?
Then comes a shoulder tap
From behind left,
where Elizabeth sits.
Keep your chin up, Holly, she says,
and I smile and say I'll try
and I do,
perhaps mostly because someone noticed my chin was drooping
and that makes all the difference.
I ask you:
Have you ever exited such a stuffy, four and a half hour room
and gone to E-Quality's Annual Drag Show?
Probably not.
I didn't know what to think
when I first entered Edson Auditorium, past a boy in my German class
who was suddenly transformed into
a convincing woman
with red bra, red lipstick, and taffy blonde hair.
The whole campus (practically) was there in that auditorium,
and the majority was in drag
and crazy because when you're dressed up you can do anything
walk walk fashion baby work it move that thing crazy
act after act after act
boys and girls dressed up like girls and boys
lip syncing to songs that made the audience gasp and shriek and laugh
and run up with dollar bills to shove down the performers' shirts
or in their pockets
(because that's what you were supposed to do)
(it was part of the fun)
the judging was two staff members two professors
(one of whom is my dignified advisor)
and our very own Chancellor.
And throughout the crowd was pulsing with excitement
young and alive and wonderful
because sometimes people die,
but not tonight.
There was a joke an MC told:
today was admitted student day, and he said that it was fun
to watch the faces of the admitted students
(and their parents)
as they walked past the table advertising the Drag Show.
We all roared with laughter at that
Because they'll find out soon enough
That UMM is a pulsing campus
That attends Drag Shows
and pulls your chin back up from your chest
when it falls.
Where else can you get that, I ask you.
How many of you spend four and a half hours in tech fee hearings
(and while it is great that students get so much power,
allocating 150,000 dollars and all)
and by the end feel tired enough to drop?
Then comes a shoulder tap
From behind left,
where Elizabeth sits.
Keep your chin up, Holly, she says,
and I smile and say I'll try
and I do,
perhaps mostly because someone noticed my chin was drooping
and that makes all the difference.
I ask you:
Have you ever exited such a stuffy, four and a half hour room
and gone to E-Quality's Annual Drag Show?
Probably not.
I didn't know what to think
when I first entered Edson Auditorium, past a boy in my German class
who was suddenly transformed into
a convincing woman
with red bra, red lipstick, and taffy blonde hair.
The whole campus (practically) was there in that auditorium,
and the majority was in drag
and crazy because when you're dressed up you can do anything
walk walk fashion baby work it move that thing crazy
act after act after act
boys and girls dressed up like girls and boys
lip syncing to songs that made the audience gasp and shriek and laugh
and run up with dollar bills to shove down the performers' shirts
or in their pockets
(because that's what you were supposed to do)
(it was part of the fun)
the judging was two staff members two professors
(one of whom is my dignified advisor)
and our very own Chancellor.
And throughout the crowd was pulsing with excitement
young and alive and wonderful
because sometimes people die,
but not tonight.
There was a joke an MC told:
today was admitted student day, and he said that it was fun
to watch the faces of the admitted students
(and their parents)
as they walked past the table advertising the Drag Show.
We all roared with laughter at that
Because they'll find out soon enough
That UMM is a pulsing campus
That attends Drag Shows
and pulls your chin back up from your chest
when it falls.
Where else can you get that, I ask you.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Lenten Resolution Revealed (among other things)
This morning I sat in Turtle Mountain Cafe, reading Langston Hughes, eating my breakfast yogurt, and sipping a hot chocolate that would have tasted better had I not witnessed the worker making it. She dumped a few scoops of powder into hot water and stirred it around. No whipped cream or anything. So much for Fat Tuesday.
I'm giving up chocolate for Lent (and any admiration for my sacrifice is much appreciated-I think chocolate is probably the hardest thing I can possibly give up, save reading, which would not even be realistic), so I thought I'd better get as much in as I can while I can. Will eat a Kit Kat later as well.
I've also been dreaming of Spring Break. 1 exam, 1 four page paper, and 3 days are all that stand between me and home.
I'm giving up chocolate for Lent (and any admiration for my sacrifice is much appreciated-I think chocolate is probably the hardest thing I can possibly give up, save reading, which would not even be realistic), so I thought I'd better get as much in as I can while I can. Will eat a Kit Kat later as well.
I've also been dreaming of Spring Break. 1 exam, 1 four page paper, and 3 days are all that stand between me and home.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
"We're Bonding, Aren't We?"
Last night, my roommate and I, under orders from certain New Years Resolutions, headed to the Regional Fitness Center to run around a bit. We decided to play badminton, which is great because you run around enough to get a work out, but you have enough fun that it doesn't feel like work.
Well, we were batting the birdie back and forth with more humor than skill, when a group of five boys, two of whom were international students, walked up and asked us if they could join. We said sure, assuming that two of them would assemble and oppose the two of us. To our surprise, all five of them clustered together on the other side of the net and proceeded to take us on.
Let me tell you, it was a lot of fun.
The birdie was smashed back and forth, often twirling in midair as rackets swished by, missing by entire feet.
Boys collided with boys on the other side, boys fell, laughing.
Serves were delivered out of order and overhand, often with fluorishes and mighty leaps.
No one, it seemed, could understand what any other person said, but it didn't seem to matter.
We were just seven college students having fun.
To be completely honest, it was the first time that I've really interacted with international students.
Not because I have anything against them, but because I'm always worried that I'll do something or say something they won't understand, or vice versa.
Badminton, even in rude form, I have learned, is easily translated into any language.
In fact, and you're probably going to groan at this next part, our entire time in the RFC reminded me of that moment in Father of the Bride 2, when Steve Martin and Martin Short are in the hospital running back and forth between Steve's wife and Steve's daughter, who are both in labor at the same time. Suddenly, Martin Short, in his funny Franck voice, grabs Steve Martin by the shoulders and says, "George...we're bonding, aren't we?" And Steve Martin smiles a slow smile of recognition and says "Yes, Franck. I think we are."
Hospital, badminton court. Same thing, really.
Well, we were batting the birdie back and forth with more humor than skill, when a group of five boys, two of whom were international students, walked up and asked us if they could join. We said sure, assuming that two of them would assemble and oppose the two of us. To our surprise, all five of them clustered together on the other side of the net and proceeded to take us on.
Let me tell you, it was a lot of fun.
The birdie was smashed back and forth, often twirling in midair as rackets swished by, missing by entire feet.
Boys collided with boys on the other side, boys fell, laughing.
Serves were delivered out of order and overhand, often with fluorishes and mighty leaps.
No one, it seemed, could understand what any other person said, but it didn't seem to matter.
We were just seven college students having fun.
To be completely honest, it was the first time that I've really interacted with international students.
Not because I have anything against them, but because I'm always worried that I'll do something or say something they won't understand, or vice versa.
Badminton, even in rude form, I have learned, is easily translated into any language.
In fact, and you're probably going to groan at this next part, our entire time in the RFC reminded me of that moment in Father of the Bride 2, when Steve Martin and Martin Short are in the hospital running back and forth between Steve's wife and Steve's daughter, who are both in labor at the same time. Suddenly, Martin Short, in his funny Franck voice, grabs Steve Martin by the shoulders and says, "George...we're bonding, aren't we?" And Steve Martin smiles a slow smile of recognition and says "Yes, Franck. I think we are."
Hospital, badminton court. Same thing, really.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
A Disparaging Day
I'm feeling a little beaten down by college right now.
Got my Honors essay back today with an A-, but also with comments labeling it as "smart, well observed, and unusually well-written," but also as "superficial, unconnected, and undeveloped."
Truthfully, I've been getting comments such as these on a lot of essays lately. My writing is great, my style is wonderful, but apparently there's not much behind it.
This is obviously extremely troubling for me-to have professors think that I can write pretty, but that I'm ultimately uninsightful and unable to make strong arguments.
I had a bit of a breakdown after Honors, needless to say.
Crying unabashedly, I walked through campus, down behind Spooner and Gay and the Science Building, until I finally realized that I had nowhere to go. In the end I would just have to turn around and head back to the library to make things right.
College can be a surprisingly lonely place sometimes; your friends can sympathize, but in the end they have their own studying to do. Your parents aren't there to tell you that everything is going to be okay, and that when you wake up in the morning your problems will have worked themselves out. In college, you have to work your own problems out before bed. You have to be independent, and you have to bounce back from things whether you want to or not. You always have to try harder next time. You have to write two papers and study for a test in one weekend, because you have no other choice. Because you did have a choice; you chose to pursue higher education. You're paying for your classes. You wanted to be here.
And so I'm trying very hard not to let the A- and disparaging comments get to me too much. I have miles to go before I sleep, and I don't intend to waste time dwelling, unless said dwelling will help me to write a better paper.
Goodnight, blog readers. May your struggles lead to triumphs, and may you find a secluded park bench on which to sit and think whenever you are in need of one.
Got my Honors essay back today with an A-, but also with comments labeling it as "smart, well observed, and unusually well-written," but also as "superficial, unconnected, and undeveloped."
Truthfully, I've been getting comments such as these on a lot of essays lately. My writing is great, my style is wonderful, but apparently there's not much behind it.
This is obviously extremely troubling for me-to have professors think that I can write pretty, but that I'm ultimately uninsightful and unable to make strong arguments.
I had a bit of a breakdown after Honors, needless to say.
Crying unabashedly, I walked through campus, down behind Spooner and Gay and the Science Building, until I finally realized that I had nowhere to go. In the end I would just have to turn around and head back to the library to make things right.
College can be a surprisingly lonely place sometimes; your friends can sympathize, but in the end they have their own studying to do. Your parents aren't there to tell you that everything is going to be okay, and that when you wake up in the morning your problems will have worked themselves out. In college, you have to work your own problems out before bed. You have to be independent, and you have to bounce back from things whether you want to or not. You always have to try harder next time. You have to write two papers and study for a test in one weekend, because you have no other choice. Because you did have a choice; you chose to pursue higher education. You're paying for your classes. You wanted to be here.
And so I'm trying very hard not to let the A- and disparaging comments get to me too much. I have miles to go before I sleep, and I don't intend to waste time dwelling, unless said dwelling will help me to write a better paper.
Goodnight, blog readers. May your struggles lead to triumphs, and may you find a secluded park bench on which to sit and think whenever you are in need of one.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Perceptions of Morris, an Email Story
Email No. 1:
Hey everybody!!!
I just want to write to everyone and say.....
I love you. I love morris. Here are my reasons for loving morris:
(btw taco i had you in mind when i wrote this)
i love that winter lasts 9 months out of the year here
i love the smell of manure in the morning.
i love how people never hold open the door when im right behind you
i love how the members of mpirg say they want to "help the earth" and "save
humanity" yet only one member shows up for the highway cleanup and not one
member participated in the food drive last semester
i love how you all think you are going to change the world
i love how you pretend to look at your phone as i walk by when you very
well know im walking toward you
i love how everyone here is so friendly towards me at face value only
i love the passive aggressive use of facebook
i love how you all think this school is better than harvard
i love the professors sunny attitudes and friendly dispositions :) while
they are telling me i am an idiot
i love how people insist on their love for morris then leave every weekend
for somewhere else
i love how no one boos anyone off stage at open mic even though our ears
are crying blood
i love that the city doesn't snow plow unless they feel like it even though
there is a foot of snow on the streets and even walking is difficult
i love that everyone judges
i love that all the science majors think each class is like some kind of
"competition" and refuse to help eachother out
i love that you make me feel like May 14th is so many years away
i love that i will never ever come back
PEACE
Email No. 2:
In response to an e-mail sent out to the listserv a bit ago, I would like to
share my personal feelings about Morris and the people here. There's enough
hate in this world, we don't need to feel miserable about ourselves.
Oh, Morris, how I love thee. Let me count the ways...
I love how tuition is so low that people like me actually get paid to study
here.
I love the small class sizes.
I love the theatre discipline, that's small enough to give me plenty of
opportunities to develop my skills without being constantly shot down my
competition.
I love the sense of pride this school has, so, even when we know we aren't
the best, we at least feel like we are.
I love how, out of all the places I've lived in my 20 years on this earth,
Morris is the only place that has ever made me feel at home.
I love when we always complain that it's too hot or too cold, but, in our
hearts, we wouldn't want it any other way.
I love that, even if we don't actually *do* all the things we say we want to
do to help the world, we at least have the brains and the balls to admit
that something's wrong and we need to do something about it.
I love when people you barely know can tell something's troubling you, and
will make sure you get a hug or an anonymous letter in your PO box.
I love how the campus is so small that you know a majority of the people you
cross paths with.
I love that you can go a day with three of your professors saying an offhand
remark that significantly boosts your self-esteem.
I love that when a friend says they love you, they really do love you.
I love how, even if it isn't expected that you'll make something of
yourself, you are still given the fuel to keep on dreaming.
I love how students are given the opportunity to be an active member of a
discipline that is not their own.
I love that you can be friends with your neighbor.
I love how Morris is big enough that you can always find something to do,
but small enough that you can live on one side of town and walk to campus on
the other.
I love how classmates and professors will constantly push you to step out of
your comfort zone and try something new.
I love that these new things you're pressured to try usually end up being
tons of fun.
I love how everyone I know here is now part of my extended "Morris family."
I love how, when something like a laptop gets stolen, the entire community
comes together to defend and protect the victim.
I love that you don't have to lock your bike up for fear of it being stolen.
I love how we're sophisticated, but not pretentious.
I love American Indian tuition waivers.
I love our one grocery store, even if its name is a double-entendre.
I love how I can come up with more good things about this town than bad.
I love that the LGBT community on this campus actually has strength.
I love that, as a gay person, I don't have to feel ashamed or embarrassed
while I'm here.
I love how I can still be great friends with my biggest competition.
I love you.
So turn those frowns upside-down, my fellow UMM-ers! I've only been here for
three semesters, but it has, and I'm being completely sincere when I say
this, the best year-and--half of my life. I'm sorry that some people have
had an awful experience during their stay here, but I just wanted to
reassure anyone questioning the quality of life in this gorgeous town that
there are people who love it here.
Thanks for reading.
Ian Bloomquist
Hey everybody!!!
I just want to write to everyone and say.....
I love you. I love morris. Here are my reasons for loving morris:
(btw taco i had you in mind when i wrote this)
i love that winter lasts 9 months out of the year here
i love the smell of manure in the morning.
i love how people never hold open the door when im right behind you
i love how the members of mpirg say they want to "help the earth" and "save
humanity" yet only one member shows up for the highway cleanup and not one
member participated in the food drive last semester
i love how you all think you are going to change the world
i love how you pretend to look at your phone as i walk by when you very
well know im walking toward you
i love how everyone here is so friendly towards me at face value only
i love the passive aggressive use of facebook
i love how you all think this school is better than harvard
i love the professors sunny attitudes and friendly dispositions :) while
they are telling me i am an idiot
i love how people insist on their love for morris then leave every weekend
for somewhere else
i love how no one boos anyone off stage at open mic even though our ears
are crying blood
i love that the city doesn't snow plow unless they feel like it even though
there is a foot of snow on the streets and even walking is difficult
i love that everyone judges
i love that all the science majors think each class is like some kind of
"competition" and refuse to help eachother out
i love that you make me feel like May 14th is so many years away
i love that i will never ever come back
PEACE
Email No. 2:
In response to an e-mail sent out to the listserv a bit ago, I would like to
share my personal feelings about Morris and the people here. There's enough
hate in this world, we don't need to feel miserable about ourselves.
Oh, Morris, how I love thee. Let me count the ways...
I love how tuition is so low that people like me actually get paid to study
here.
I love the small class sizes.
I love the theatre discipline, that's small enough to give me plenty of
opportunities to develop my skills without being constantly shot down my
competition.
I love the sense of pride this school has, so, even when we know we aren't
the best, we at least feel like we are.
I love how, out of all the places I've lived in my 20 years on this earth,
Morris is the only place that has ever made me feel at home.
I love when we always complain that it's too hot or too cold, but, in our
hearts, we wouldn't want it any other way.
I love that, even if we don't actually *do* all the things we say we want to
do to help the world, we at least have the brains and the balls to admit
that something's wrong and we need to do something about it.
I love when people you barely know can tell something's troubling you, and
will make sure you get a hug or an anonymous letter in your PO box.
I love how the campus is so small that you know a majority of the people you
cross paths with.
I love that you can go a day with three of your professors saying an offhand
remark that significantly boosts your self-esteem.
I love that when a friend says they love you, they really do love you.
I love how, even if it isn't expected that you'll make something of
yourself, you are still given the fuel to keep on dreaming.
I love how students are given the opportunity to be an active member of a
discipline that is not their own.
I love that you can be friends with your neighbor.
I love how Morris is big enough that you can always find something to do,
but small enough that you can live on one side of town and walk to campus on
the other.
I love how classmates and professors will constantly push you to step out of
your comfort zone and try something new.
I love that these new things you're pressured to try usually end up being
tons of fun.
I love how everyone I know here is now part of my extended "Morris family."
I love how, when something like a laptop gets stolen, the entire community
comes together to defend and protect the victim.
I love that you don't have to lock your bike up for fear of it being stolen.
I love how we're sophisticated, but not pretentious.
I love American Indian tuition waivers.
I love our one grocery store, even if its name is a double-entendre.
I love how I can come up with more good things about this town than bad.
I love that the LGBT community on this campus actually has strength.
I love that, as a gay person, I don't have to feel ashamed or embarrassed
while I'm here.
I love how I can still be great friends with my biggest competition.
I love you.
So turn those frowns upside-down, my fellow UMM-ers! I've only been here for
three semesters, but it has, and I'm being completely sincere when I say
this, the best year-and--half of my life. I'm sorry that some people have
had an awful experience during their stay here, but I just wanted to
reassure anyone questioning the quality of life in this gorgeous town that
there are people who love it here.
Thanks for reading.
Ian Bloomquist
Saturday, October 2, 2010
Washington Irving Week
"However wide awake they may have been before they entered that sleepy region, they are sure, in a little time, to imbibe the witching influence of the air, and begin to grow imaginative-to dream dreams, and see apparitions."
That's from Washington Irving's The Legend of Sleepy Hollow. It's Washington Irving week in old American Literature, and the weather seems to be cooperating; it's cool and windy outside, with just enough sunshine to flit against the leaves and make them explode into yellow and orange.
No students lie out on the mall and read anymore.
Instead, they sit on benches in sweaters
and look out over the browning grass
with inexplicable wistfulness.
The air doesn't hang suspended as it did in the summer.
Now it rushes around lamp posts,
tugs at hair
and scarves,
whips five page essays across the sidewalks and into
the dusty road where cars slow but don't pause.
A feeling of frenzied excitement has settled on campus,
and we all dress for a homecoming game that we won't win,
continuing to grin at those we dimly recognize from a long-ago meeting.
We read Washington Irving,
wishing all the time that we could somehow have
the lazy knoll of Rip Van Winkle back,
while still clinging to the blowing trees
as the Headless Horseman gallops by
on the dusky road.
That's from Washington Irving's The Legend of Sleepy Hollow. It's Washington Irving week in old American Literature, and the weather seems to be cooperating; it's cool and windy outside, with just enough sunshine to flit against the leaves and make them explode into yellow and orange.
No students lie out on the mall and read anymore.
Instead, they sit on benches in sweaters
and look out over the browning grass
with inexplicable wistfulness.
The air doesn't hang suspended as it did in the summer.
Now it rushes around lamp posts,
tugs at hair
and scarves,
whips five page essays across the sidewalks and into
the dusty road where cars slow but don't pause.
A feeling of frenzied excitement has settled on campus,
and we all dress for a homecoming game that we won't win,
continuing to grin at those we dimly recognize from a long-ago meeting.
We read Washington Irving,
wishing all the time that we could somehow have
the lazy knoll of Rip Van Winkle back,
while still clinging to the blowing trees
as the Headless Horseman gallops by
on the dusky road.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Wednesday Night Apple Crisp
Current Location: Briggs Library Writing Room
Just Ate: Apple crisp; they had three huge pans of it downstairs for some reason. The librarians were wandering up and down the floors encouraging people to go down and eat some, so I did! It was certainly delicious, that random, Wednesday-night apple crisp.
Just talked to: Some random lady on the phone. She called the library asking for writing advice, and then the librarian came up to the writing room to get me so I could speak to her (they didn't know the number to transfer her up). I picked up the receiver, and all of the sudden the woman is throwing sentences at me, asking me to help her identify the subject and the predicate. Subject and predicate (I exclaimed to myself)! I haven't learned about those since elementary school! I remembered somehow, however, and was able to help her out.
She wasn't done yet, though; as a child screamed in the background, the woman began to complain about how schools give assignments and just expect children to be able to do them without help. She berated teachers for not wanting to be contacted with questions after hours, and for telling kids not to bring their textbooks home (which makes it hard for parents to assist their children).
I understood her points, and she really wasn't nasty about any of it; it just amused me that she was talking to me of all people about such things. I'm simply a student worker who's job it is to help other students improve their papers for class! I work in a tiny room on the 3rd floor, I'm not a mother, and it's 9:30 p.m. What a random call to receive!
In retrospect, I think that the woman simply needed someone to vent to, and that I was the first person who seemed willing to listen. Fine with me. It's interesting experiences like this that make my life interesting, truthfully.
F. Scott Fitzgerald: Will have to settle for a shorter spiel than I originally intended to give. This Side of Paradise was amazing. It is now officially my favorite new book, mainly because it gave me so much to think about, both in terms of the ideas introduced in the novel, and in terms of how the novel itself was crafted.
Although Amory Blaine (the main character) is not necessarily a character to be admired, I found that I could relate to him in various ways, especially where his college experiences were concerned. He discovers so much about himself, and about the world in college, and yet these discoveries leave him reeling, and wondering what the true meaning of everything is.
And at the absoulte pinnacle of the book, Amory finds himself back before the spires of his Alma Mater. He leans his head back into the night and screams, "I know myself, but that is all-."
And that is exactly how I feel.
As good of an ending as the above is, I want to briefly add that F. Scott Fitzgerald was an absolutely marvelous writer. It's actually difficult to describe it, but the thing that strikes me the most is how observant he was as an author. Fitzgerald had a gift for character development; he effortlessly pieced people together until they were so complex that they were entirely real to readers.
Again, I don't think I'm explaining this very well. I think you should just read something of his for yourself. Start with The Great Gatsby, and then go from there. You'll like him, I promise.
Just Ate: Apple crisp; they had three huge pans of it downstairs for some reason. The librarians were wandering up and down the floors encouraging people to go down and eat some, so I did! It was certainly delicious, that random, Wednesday-night apple crisp.
Just talked to: Some random lady on the phone. She called the library asking for writing advice, and then the librarian came up to the writing room to get me so I could speak to her (they didn't know the number to transfer her up). I picked up the receiver, and all of the sudden the woman is throwing sentences at me, asking me to help her identify the subject and the predicate. Subject and predicate (I exclaimed to myself)! I haven't learned about those since elementary school! I remembered somehow, however, and was able to help her out.
She wasn't done yet, though; as a child screamed in the background, the woman began to complain about how schools give assignments and just expect children to be able to do them without help. She berated teachers for not wanting to be contacted with questions after hours, and for telling kids not to bring their textbooks home (which makes it hard for parents to assist their children).
I understood her points, and she really wasn't nasty about any of it; it just amused me that she was talking to me of all people about such things. I'm simply a student worker who's job it is to help other students improve their papers for class! I work in a tiny room on the 3rd floor, I'm not a mother, and it's 9:30 p.m. What a random call to receive!
In retrospect, I think that the woman simply needed someone to vent to, and that I was the first person who seemed willing to listen. Fine with me. It's interesting experiences like this that make my life interesting, truthfully.
F. Scott Fitzgerald: Will have to settle for a shorter spiel than I originally intended to give. This Side of Paradise was amazing. It is now officially my favorite new book, mainly because it gave me so much to think about, both in terms of the ideas introduced in the novel, and in terms of how the novel itself was crafted.
Although Amory Blaine (the main character) is not necessarily a character to be admired, I found that I could relate to him in various ways, especially where his college experiences were concerned. He discovers so much about himself, and about the world in college, and yet these discoveries leave him reeling, and wondering what the true meaning of everything is.
And at the absoulte pinnacle of the book, Amory finds himself back before the spires of his Alma Mater. He leans his head back into the night and screams, "I know myself, but that is all-."
And that is exactly how I feel.
As good of an ending as the above is, I want to briefly add that F. Scott Fitzgerald was an absolutely marvelous writer. It's actually difficult to describe it, but the thing that strikes me the most is how observant he was as an author. Fitzgerald had a gift for character development; he effortlessly pieced people together until they were so complex that they were entirely real to readers.
Again, I don't think I'm explaining this very well. I think you should just read something of his for yourself. Start with The Great Gatsby, and then go from there. You'll like him, I promise.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
That'll Do, Pig. That'll Do.
Maddie, King and I were walking across the Mall today. We were talking about our favorite childhood movies, and from there we got on the topic of the movie Babe.
We then realized that there was a catch phrase of sorts in that movie that the old farmer says to Babe after Babe successfully herds the sheep.
We walked to dinner trying to figure it out.
We talked about it at dinner.
When we got back to the dorm, Maddie and I decided to go downstairs to talk to Tim.
On our way to Tim's room, we walked past Brochman's room. Brochman came out to chat, his fingers holding his place in Arabian Nights.
I asked him about the book, saying that I had never read it and had always wanted to.
Brochman: Arabian nights is basically a story within a story within a story. It starts with a princess who's going to have her head cut off. She starts to tell her captor a story to prolong her life. In her story, there's a genie who pops out of a lamp and begins to tell a story, and in the genie's story someone else is telling a story, and it just keeps going on.*
Maddie: Have you ever seen the movie Babe?
Brochman: Well that was random. Yeah I think I have. Why?
Holly: Because we've been trying to figure out what the old farmer says to Babe after he herds the sheep. It's like 'atta pig' or 'good pig' or something like that. It's a catch phrase of sorts.
Brochman: I have no idea.
-random boy walks in-
Brochman: Do you know what the old farmer guy says to Babe after he herds the sheep?
Boy 1: No idea.
-another random boy walks in-
Boy 1: You know in the movie Babe, when Babe herds the sheep? What does the old farmer say to him?
Boy 2: Gosh, I don't know. I haven't seen that movie in a really long time.
Boy 1: I'll look it up.
-Boy 1 goes in room and shuts door-
-Boy 2 goes in room and shuts door-
-Maddie, Holly, and Brochman continue chatting-
-Boy 1 opens door of room, and steps into hallway-
Boy 1: That'll do, pig. That'll do.
-Boy 1 goes back into room and shuts door-
-Boy 2 comes out of room-
Boy 2: That'll do, pig. That'll do.
-Boy 2 goes back into room and closes door-
Pretty sure we accidently semi experienced the chain reaction of Arabian Nights in real life.
College is epic.
*Note: I paraphrased Brochman's summary of Arabian Nights (as did he, probably, when he summarized it). May not be completely accurate.
We then realized that there was a catch phrase of sorts in that movie that the old farmer says to Babe after Babe successfully herds the sheep.
We walked to dinner trying to figure it out.
We talked about it at dinner.
When we got back to the dorm, Maddie and I decided to go downstairs to talk to Tim.
On our way to Tim's room, we walked past Brochman's room. Brochman came out to chat, his fingers holding his place in Arabian Nights.
I asked him about the book, saying that I had never read it and had always wanted to.
Brochman: Arabian nights is basically a story within a story within a story. It starts with a princess who's going to have her head cut off. She starts to tell her captor a story to prolong her life. In her story, there's a genie who pops out of a lamp and begins to tell a story, and in the genie's story someone else is telling a story, and it just keeps going on.*
Maddie: Have you ever seen the movie Babe?
Brochman: Well that was random. Yeah I think I have. Why?
Holly: Because we've been trying to figure out what the old farmer says to Babe after he herds the sheep. It's like 'atta pig' or 'good pig' or something like that. It's a catch phrase of sorts.
Brochman: I have no idea.
-random boy walks in-
Brochman: Do you know what the old farmer guy says to Babe after he herds the sheep?
Boy 1: No idea.
-another random boy walks in-
Boy 1: You know in the movie Babe, when Babe herds the sheep? What does the old farmer say to him?
Boy 2: Gosh, I don't know. I haven't seen that movie in a really long time.
Boy 1: I'll look it up.
-Boy 1 goes in room and shuts door-
-Boy 2 goes in room and shuts door-
-Maddie, Holly, and Brochman continue chatting-
-Boy 1 opens door of room, and steps into hallway-
Boy 1: That'll do, pig. That'll do.
-Boy 1 goes back into room and shuts door-
-Boy 2 comes out of room-
Boy 2: That'll do, pig. That'll do.
-Boy 2 goes back into room and closes door-
Pretty sure we accidently semi experienced the chain reaction of Arabian Nights in real life.
College is epic.
*Note: I paraphrased Brochman's summary of Arabian Nights (as did he, probably, when he summarized it). May not be completely accurate.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Like a City Upon a Hill
I know, I know-I've done it again. A couple of long, dramatic posts in a row, and then I didn't get back to you with the resolution!
By now, though, it seems kind of silly to explain to you how amazing Orientation was, what a good time I had with my group, and how I look forward to bumping into them around campus and seeing what they get involved in and how their freshman year goes.
Nah.
That's old news by now.
The new news is that I had my first day of classes today.
All of them were amazing.
I'm especially excited about my Icelandic Sagas Honors class. There are only about 13 people in it, so it's going to be a great discussion class. It's also interdisciplinary, so it's taught from an English-y perspective by an English professor, and a science-y perspective by a science professor.
I'll admit that there was a point when I almost had a meltdown thinking about all the studying I'm going to have to do this semester. I'm taking 17 credits for goodness' sake! Plus three jobs! What was I thinking, you guys? Why didn't you stop me?
Oh, well. All of my classes are going to be interesting and thought-provoking, and all of my jobs are educational (as well as financially reassuring).
I think it's worth it to be super busy if I can do all the things I want to do.
I'm also cutting down on my activities this year; I'm mainly focusing on MCSA (student government) and intramurals.
Okay...I should get back to my American Lit. reading now. It's an essay/sermon by John Winthrop, and let me tell you that while I love the guy to pieces, his writings are an absolute pain to read. I wonder if his fellow Puritans struggled as well?
By now, though, it seems kind of silly to explain to you how amazing Orientation was, what a good time I had with my group, and how I look forward to bumping into them around campus and seeing what they get involved in and how their freshman year goes.
Nah.
That's old news by now.
The new news is that I had my first day of classes today.
All of them were amazing.
I'm especially excited about my Icelandic Sagas Honors class. There are only about 13 people in it, so it's going to be a great discussion class. It's also interdisciplinary, so it's taught from an English-y perspective by an English professor, and a science-y perspective by a science professor.
I'll admit that there was a point when I almost had a meltdown thinking about all the studying I'm going to have to do this semester. I'm taking 17 credits for goodness' sake! Plus three jobs! What was I thinking, you guys? Why didn't you stop me?
Oh, well. All of my classes are going to be interesting and thought-provoking, and all of my jobs are educational (as well as financially reassuring).
I think it's worth it to be super busy if I can do all the things I want to do.
I'm also cutting down on my activities this year; I'm mainly focusing on MCSA (student government) and intramurals.
Okay...I should get back to my American Lit. reading now. It's an essay/sermon by John Winthrop, and let me tell you that while I love the guy to pieces, his writings are an absolute pain to read. I wonder if his fellow Puritans struggled as well?
Saturday, August 21, 2010
It Concerns Me
Now that I've finished all the tasks I outlined in my last post, I have time to sit and actually think about tomorrow. And this thinking has led to some unsettling thoughts.
I'm not nervous about being an OGL, exactly; my stomach isn't fluttery or anything. I'm just suddenly a little anxious. I did Link Crew for two years in high school, but I think that being an OGL is completely different. For one thing, my Orientation group is a group of adults. Literally. They're 18. They're older, they're (hopefully) more mature, and they're out on their own for probably the first time in their lives.
The biggest difference between college freshman and high school freshman is the level of independence. I cannot make my Orientation group stay. They can leave whenever they want, and Mrs. Johnson will not be waiting in the hallway to escort them back in.
In other words, unless I somehow make a huge impact on them tomorrow, unless I find a way to show them that it's worth it to stay with the group, they're gone.
Hopefully I find a way to do the above things, because I really believe that Orientation is an essential part of the freshman experience. Not only does it give you a ton of important information, but it gives you a chance to bond with people who are not on your floor. It gives you a whole additional group of people to say hi to on the sidewalks, and to sit by in Food Service (excuse me: The Dining Hall). It provides a support group that is entirely unique in that it is probably the first support group you encounter upon moving in. Orientation is the first impression most freshman will get at Morris, and so it's crucial that it's a good one.
Admittedly, I didn't love waking up early for three days to meet up with my Orientation group, and it was a little awkward because I felt like all the kids were friends and I was kind of on the outside. Luckily, though, I had a great OGL who really tried hard to make everyone feel comfortable, and who I continued to see around campus all of freshman year.
I'm going to do my best starting tomorrow to make everyone feel at home, and I even feel like I have a bit of an edge because I was a freshman last year, and I remember exactly what it felt like to be thrust headfirst into something like Orientation.
If all else fails?
I bought a bunch of candy at Willie's. A little bribe never hurts.
I'm not nervous about being an OGL, exactly; my stomach isn't fluttery or anything. I'm just suddenly a little anxious. I did Link Crew for two years in high school, but I think that being an OGL is completely different. For one thing, my Orientation group is a group of adults. Literally. They're 18. They're older, they're (hopefully) more mature, and they're out on their own for probably the first time in their lives.
The biggest difference between college freshman and high school freshman is the level of independence. I cannot make my Orientation group stay. They can leave whenever they want, and Mrs. Johnson will not be waiting in the hallway to escort them back in.
In other words, unless I somehow make a huge impact on them tomorrow, unless I find a way to show them that it's worth it to stay with the group, they're gone.
Hopefully I find a way to do the above things, because I really believe that Orientation is an essential part of the freshman experience. Not only does it give you a ton of important information, but it gives you a chance to bond with people who are not on your floor. It gives you a whole additional group of people to say hi to on the sidewalks, and to sit by in Food Service (excuse me: The Dining Hall). It provides a support group that is entirely unique in that it is probably the first support group you encounter upon moving in. Orientation is the first impression most freshman will get at Morris, and so it's crucial that it's a good one.
Admittedly, I didn't love waking up early for three days to meet up with my Orientation group, and it was a little awkward because I felt like all the kids were friends and I was kind of on the outside. Luckily, though, I had a great OGL who really tried hard to make everyone feel comfortable, and who I continued to see around campus all of freshman year.
I'm going to do my best starting tomorrow to make everyone feel at home, and I even feel like I have a bit of an edge because I was a freshman last year, and I remember exactly what it felt like to be thrust headfirst into something like Orientation.
If all else fails?
I bought a bunch of candy at Willie's. A little bribe never hurts.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Free Write
Free Write
The fan is swishing
against my hair,
blowing the shadows on the wall
as well.
I hear a click as it turns
and recall that Mom got it at Pamida
two days ago
because I needed a fan
and because I needed more time
before she drove away
back home
and left me.
Sophomore year hasn't changed
that feeling when the van pulls away.
Sinking, stumbling,
turning away into an empty dorm.
No students yet but me.
Now the white fan makes
my tie-dye shirt wave
from the drying rack.
Downstairs, there is
three inches of water sitting in the
washing machine that I broke.
Three inches of blue tie-dyed water
that will sit there and sit there
until someone comes with a hose
and a toolbox and flushes it away.
Now the shiny white fan wrinkles
the empty mattress
on the empty side of the room.
I sit on my striped blanket
and watch that mattress
blue and vinyl
and wonder how the room will feel
when there is a blanket covering it
and a different pillow plump
at its foot.
Now the humming, shiny white fan
turns its face once more towards my hair
to toss it out of place
once more
and I sit alone in my dorm room
on my bed
and I wait for something to happen.
The fan is swishing
against my hair,
blowing the shadows on the wall
as well.
I hear a click as it turns
and recall that Mom got it at Pamida
two days ago
because I needed a fan
and because I needed more time
before she drove away
back home
and left me.
Sophomore year hasn't changed
that feeling when the van pulls away.
Sinking, stumbling,
turning away into an empty dorm.
No students yet but me.
Now the white fan makes
my tie-dye shirt wave
from the drying rack.
Downstairs, there is
three inches of water sitting in the
washing machine that I broke.
Three inches of blue tie-dyed water
that will sit there and sit there
until someone comes with a hose
and a toolbox and flushes it away.
Now the shiny white fan wrinkles
the empty mattress
on the empty side of the room.
I sit on my striped blanket
and watch that mattress
blue and vinyl
and wonder how the room will feel
when there is a blanket covering it
and a different pillow plump
at its foot.
Now the humming, shiny white fan
turns its face once more towards my hair
to toss it out of place
once more
and I sit alone in my dorm room
on my bed
and I wait for something to happen.
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Winona For A Day
I spent today down in the lovely town of Winona. My younger sister will be a senior in high school this fall, and Winona State University was part of her summer college tour. I'm not going to deny that I sort of pushed Winona on her; I remembered how much I loved the town and the campus when I was visiting colleges, and I campaigned for us to make the trip.
Once we arrived, and while Mom and Am were sitting through the unavoidable powerpoint spiel, I situated myself on a bench in the middle of campus and tried vainly to finish Jane Eyre. I kept getting distracted, though. Even though it's summer, there were still quite a few people walking around, and there were ants crawling all over my feet, and then I wanted to jump up and read the plaques on nearby statues. There was also something sort of unsettling about the place; I couldn't figure out what it was, though.
I did eventually finish my book, but mainly it was interesting to be on a different college campus now that I officially belong to Morris (not in a creepy I've signed my name in blood on the wall of the student center way; I just go there). I was able to look at Winona State from a completely different perspective. A comparative perspective, I guess.
Winona is an absolutely beautiful town, what with the bluffs and the river and the gorgeous old buildings and everything. The campus is nice, too; lots of flowers and statues and nice, updated facilities. It just didn't feel like home to me. That's what was weird, I think. Winona isn't Morris.
I have a concluding fun fact for you: in one of the dorms we saw on WSU's West Campus, there was this huge Hogwarts-esque dining hall. Our tour guide told us that that hall is where they filmed the food fight scene in Mighty Ducks. Awesome!
Once we arrived, and while Mom and Am were sitting through the unavoidable powerpoint spiel, I situated myself on a bench in the middle of campus and tried vainly to finish Jane Eyre. I kept getting distracted, though. Even though it's summer, there were still quite a few people walking around, and there were ants crawling all over my feet, and then I wanted to jump up and read the plaques on nearby statues. There was also something sort of unsettling about the place; I couldn't figure out what it was, though.
I did eventually finish my book, but mainly it was interesting to be on a different college campus now that I officially belong to Morris (not in a creepy I've signed my name in blood on the wall of the student center way; I just go there). I was able to look at Winona State from a completely different perspective. A comparative perspective, I guess.
Winona is an absolutely beautiful town, what with the bluffs and the river and the gorgeous old buildings and everything. The campus is nice, too; lots of flowers and statues and nice, updated facilities. It just didn't feel like home to me. That's what was weird, I think. Winona isn't Morris.
I have a concluding fun fact for you: in one of the dorms we saw on WSU's West Campus, there was this huge Hogwarts-esque dining hall. Our tour guide told us that that hall is where they filmed the food fight scene in Mighty Ducks. Awesome!
Monday, June 7, 2010
Talking to F. Scott Fitzgerald (and praying he won't answer back)
I had a bad night last night. It was one of those nights where I suddenly began doubting my abilities as a writer. I was reading these F. Scott quotes online, and he was talking about writing and how it should be done and who should do it. It really upset me, actually, and I reread the story I was working on extremely critically and considered just giving up on it. I remember at one point I rolled my eyes towards the heavens (and F. Scott, I assumed) and said quietly, "What do you know? I know you were a great writer, and that as a result you obviously know quite a lot about your craft, but what right do you have to define my career, or even my state of mind concerning my career?" After that I rolled over and read my book until I fell asleep.
The lesson here? Well, there are a few.
1. Talking out loud at 1 a.m. to long dead authors is probably the first sign of madness.
2. No one (dead or alive) should be able to make you feel a certain way about yourself and your abilities. It's perfectly natural to have influences, but in the end it should just be you and your talent standing alone and confidant.
There's my nightly revelation. Let's move on to some morning talk. Early, early morning talk, that is.
Tomorrow Tim and I are driving down to Morris to help incoming freshman register for classes. We're doing it as part of our OGL (orientation group leader) duties.
I'm excited for this. Not only will it be nice to see Tim again, but it will be extremely nice to be back in Morris. I miss it there. I really, really do.
What aren't I excited for? Waking up at 3:40 a.m. in order to be at the school where we're meeting at 5:20 a.m. in order to be in Morris at 9:00 a.m. But it'll all be worth it, I think.
Do you know why you shouldn't assume?
Because it makes an ass out of you and me (look at the word).
Excuse the profanity (my first in this blog, perhaps?), but I recently figured out this saying, and I wanted to clarify for anyone else who's missed the boat on it. Clever, isn't it?
The lesson here? Well, there are a few.
1. Talking out loud at 1 a.m. to long dead authors is probably the first sign of madness.
2. No one (dead or alive) should be able to make you feel a certain way about yourself and your abilities. It's perfectly natural to have influences, but in the end it should just be you and your talent standing alone and confidant.
There's my nightly revelation. Let's move on to some morning talk. Early, early morning talk, that is.
Tomorrow Tim and I are driving down to Morris to help incoming freshman register for classes. We're doing it as part of our OGL (orientation group leader) duties.
I'm excited for this. Not only will it be nice to see Tim again, but it will be extremely nice to be back in Morris. I miss it there. I really, really do.
What aren't I excited for? Waking up at 3:40 a.m. in order to be at the school where we're meeting at 5:20 a.m. in order to be in Morris at 9:00 a.m. But it'll all be worth it, I think.
Do you know why you shouldn't assume?
Because it makes an ass out of you and me (look at the word).
Excuse the profanity (my first in this blog, perhaps?), but I recently figured out this saying, and I wanted to clarify for anyone else who's missed the boat on it. Clever, isn't it?
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Imagine
I feel like the occasion of my homecoming calls for a particularly epic post. I'm officially done with classes for about 3 months. I'm no longer a freshman in college. I don't think I'm quite a sophomore yet; I'm a firm believer in summer as a transitional phase. I'm in between. And that, my friends, is a good place to be right now.
My sister was telling about this mean girl she goes to high school with. Apparently this girl was talking about Amy with another girl when Amy was just a few feet away.
(brief tangent) You know, I hate sibling stereotypes. I've met younger children who aren't spoiled brats, and I've met older children who prefer to be followers. But one stereotype that I will fight for to the death is the oldest child's right to go after anyone who hurts their little sister (or brother).
I am literally this close to marching down to that school tomorrow morning and giving that girl a good talking to. You know what I'd say? I'd say that high school is a fantasy. It's a little world that teenagers get to live in for four years. Maybe you think that who you are in high school is the person you'll be for the rest of your life. Maybe you think that if you're popular and feared and perfect you'll stay that way forever. Well, you're wrong. Because while things like that may fly while you're 18 and under, in college they don't. In the workforce they don't. If you're mean to people, if you're fake and lazy and rude, you will not get a job. You will not make friends. You will go nowhere in life. I suppose that sometimes the villains do win, but only temporarily. It's good people who really make it in the world, and if you can be as smart as my sister and figure that out early in life, then you'll do a lot better for yourself.
I suppose I just made one of those corny speeches that the earnest, yet naive protagonist makes at the end of the movie. Everyone's jaws drop, and the meanie slinks away to cry in the bathroom.
Well, my life is not a movie (as I've pointed out on numerous occasions), and I'm generally not a particularly gutsy person. But if this girl hurts my sister one more time, she's going to get an earful.
Okay, rant over. I'm terribly sorry. I know that you were expecting some sort of exhaulted poem about how good it is to be home, and how I'm sitting in my own bed right now, and how tomorrow I'm going to unpack and arrange my room and start my summer reading. Unfortunately, I'm too tired to write poetry. I'll let my friend John Lennon do it for me.
Imagine there's no heaven,
it's easy if you try.
No hell below us,
above us only sky.
Imagine all the people
living for today.
I know that everyone has heard Imagine a million times, but I don't think everyone realizes what an extraordinary song it really is. Paul McCartney is my favorite Beatle forever, but I'll always have a soft spot in my heart for John Lennon. And Yoko too.
My sister was telling about this mean girl she goes to high school with. Apparently this girl was talking about Amy with another girl when Amy was just a few feet away.
(brief tangent) You know, I hate sibling stereotypes. I've met younger children who aren't spoiled brats, and I've met older children who prefer to be followers. But one stereotype that I will fight for to the death is the oldest child's right to go after anyone who hurts their little sister (or brother).
I am literally this close to marching down to that school tomorrow morning and giving that girl a good talking to. You know what I'd say? I'd say that high school is a fantasy. It's a little world that teenagers get to live in for four years. Maybe you think that who you are in high school is the person you'll be for the rest of your life. Maybe you think that if you're popular and feared and perfect you'll stay that way forever. Well, you're wrong. Because while things like that may fly while you're 18 and under, in college they don't. In the workforce they don't. If you're mean to people, if you're fake and lazy and rude, you will not get a job. You will not make friends. You will go nowhere in life. I suppose that sometimes the villains do win, but only temporarily. It's good people who really make it in the world, and if you can be as smart as my sister and figure that out early in life, then you'll do a lot better for yourself.
I suppose I just made one of those corny speeches that the earnest, yet naive protagonist makes at the end of the movie. Everyone's jaws drop, and the meanie slinks away to cry in the bathroom.
Well, my life is not a movie (as I've pointed out on numerous occasions), and I'm generally not a particularly gutsy person. But if this girl hurts my sister one more time, she's going to get an earful.
Okay, rant over. I'm terribly sorry. I know that you were expecting some sort of exhaulted poem about how good it is to be home, and how I'm sitting in my own bed right now, and how tomorrow I'm going to unpack and arrange my room and start my summer reading. Unfortunately, I'm too tired to write poetry. I'll let my friend John Lennon do it for me.
Imagine there's no heaven,
it's easy if you try.
No hell below us,
above us only sky.
Imagine all the people
living for today.
I know that everyone has heard Imagine a million times, but I don't think everyone realizes what an extraordinary song it really is. Paul McCartney is my favorite Beatle forever, but I'll always have a soft spot in my heart for John Lennon. And Yoko too.
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Final
I just sniffed my shirt. I smell like smoke and the outdoors. Perfect.
Today was the Pine Hall Picnic. It was really fun. Kelsie and I worked the grill, and everyone just chilled and ate. Later on we took a Pine photo with all of the residents and CA's crammed onto the stairs/fire escape.
We limboed
We danced
We walked casually through each other's photo shoots
We joked
We chased stray wrappers across the mini mall
The best part,though, was the fact that everyone was together enjoying themselves. All the drama and cliques sort of melted away and we became one hall again.
It's 4:01 p.m. and I'm finally about to buckle down and study for my finals. I have Brit. Lit. and Crusades on Monday, and Physical Anthropology on Wednesday.
It was definitely worth it to hang out outside for awhile, though. Studying can be done later, but having a blast with people you're going to miss over the summer is a one time deal.
Today was the Pine Hall Picnic. It was really fun. Kelsie and I worked the grill, and everyone just chilled and ate. Later on we took a Pine photo with all of the residents and CA's crammed onto the stairs/fire escape.
We limboed
We danced
We walked casually through each other's photo shoots
We joked
We chased stray wrappers across the mini mall
The best part,though, was the fact that everyone was together enjoying themselves. All the drama and cliques sort of melted away and we became one hall again.
It's 4:01 p.m. and I'm finally about to buckle down and study for my finals. I have Brit. Lit. and Crusades on Monday, and Physical Anthropology on Wednesday.
It was definitely worth it to hang out outside for awhile, though. Studying can be done later, but having a blast with people you're going to miss over the summer is a one time deal.
Monday, December 14, 2009
Holly's First Finals Week
I've heard about college finals. Evidently, they're hard. Evidently, they're cumulative. Evidently, they require days (not hours) of study. Evidently, they practically determine your grades for the semester.
Today, I'm here to tell you that all of these rumors are true.
I spent all day Saturday making flash cards for my U.S. History final. All day. I honestly didn't do anything but eat, sleep, and create flash cards with terms ranging from 1945 to 1980. The final count was 158 cards, or if you need a visual, a stack about the thickness of the latest Harry Potter book.
I spent all of Sunday studying these cards. Flash cards only really work for me if I can talk them out to myself; you know, pace around a room and explain each card over and over out loud until I know it. Finally, at about 1:45 this morning I went to bed.
The trick about the history final was that it covered such a broad range:
1. 30 pages of notes from class lectures
2. Nemesis (a book about U.S. foreign policy)
3. Coming of Age in Mississippi (an autobiography of Anne Moody, Civil Rights activist)
4. Voices of Freedom (a book filled with different letters/speeches from history)
The final itself was six short answer questions, i.e. nine random terms were given to you, and you could pick six to write short definitions about, and one broad essay question that encompassed the entire unit.
I'm happy to tell you that I thought the exam went really well. It was at 8:00 a.m., so I was tired, but I still think that I got at least an A-.
Now I just have my literature final left. It's on Thursday, so I have a few days to study. Thank goodness, because this final will be even more difficult, I think.
Going to begin studying now, and then watching Up at 7:00. I think I've earned a movie break.
Today, I'm here to tell you that all of these rumors are true.
I spent all day Saturday making flash cards for my U.S. History final. All day. I honestly didn't do anything but eat, sleep, and create flash cards with terms ranging from 1945 to 1980. The final count was 158 cards, or if you need a visual, a stack about the thickness of the latest Harry Potter book.
I spent all of Sunday studying these cards. Flash cards only really work for me if I can talk them out to myself; you know, pace around a room and explain each card over and over out loud until I know it. Finally, at about 1:45 this morning I went to bed.
The trick about the history final was that it covered such a broad range:
1. 30 pages of notes from class lectures
2. Nemesis (a book about U.S. foreign policy)
3. Coming of Age in Mississippi (an autobiography of Anne Moody, Civil Rights activist)
4. Voices of Freedom (a book filled with different letters/speeches from history)
The final itself was six short answer questions, i.e. nine random terms were given to you, and you could pick six to write short definitions about, and one broad essay question that encompassed the entire unit.
I'm happy to tell you that I thought the exam went really well. It was at 8:00 a.m., so I was tired, but I still think that I got at least an A-.
Now I just have my literature final left. It's on Thursday, so I have a few days to study. Thank goodness, because this final will be even more difficult, I think.
Going to begin studying now, and then watching Up at 7:00. I think I've earned a movie break.
Friday, August 28, 2009
Holly in Collegeland
I seriously adore college. No joke. After a few days of pondering, of wandering around campus, of sketching trees and listening to birds, I have come to this conclusion.
Here's why:
1. Freedom. You can pretty much do whatever you want (within reason, obviously). For example, if I want to go to the library, I don't have to ask permission to go to the library, nor do I have to provide an estimate of when I'll be back. And if, while at said library, I meet up with a friend and we decide to walk to Pamida, I don't need to call anyone to provide an update. I can just go. It's extremely nice.
2. The classes are absolutely amazing. Morris has really small class sizes. My largest one, U.S. history, has about 60 kids in it, which is one of the larger groups you'll find here. All of my other classes have 20 students or less. These size groups make for excellent discussions. Today in intro. to lit. we had an amazing discussion about some poems we had been told to read. I normally am not a huge fan of poetry, but for some reason I found it really fun and interesting to discuss it. In that class there are about 15 people, so everyone got a chance to speak and voice their opinion, which was really nice.
3. It's a great way to meet new people. I'm usually not super good at making new friends, but everyone's in the same boat when they go off to college-new, so it's easy to relate to everyone. All of the girls on my floor in Pine Hall are really nice, and we're already planning on doing different things together and making T-shirts.
Here's why:
1. Freedom. You can pretty much do whatever you want (within reason, obviously). For example, if I want to go to the library, I don't have to ask permission to go to the library, nor do I have to provide an estimate of when I'll be back. And if, while at said library, I meet up with a friend and we decide to walk to Pamida, I don't need to call anyone to provide an update. I can just go. It's extremely nice.
2. The classes are absolutely amazing. Morris has really small class sizes. My largest one, U.S. history, has about 60 kids in it, which is one of the larger groups you'll find here. All of my other classes have 20 students or less. These size groups make for excellent discussions. Today in intro. to lit. we had an amazing discussion about some poems we had been told to read. I normally am not a huge fan of poetry, but for some reason I found it really fun and interesting to discuss it. In that class there are about 15 people, so everyone got a chance to speak and voice their opinion, which was really nice.
3. It's a great way to meet new people. I'm usually not super good at making new friends, but everyone's in the same boat when they go off to college-new, so it's easy to relate to everyone. All of the girls on my floor in Pine Hall are really nice, and we're already planning on doing different things together and making T-shirts.
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Holly Goes to College
I can't believe that I'm actually at college. I've been talking about it for years-I'm lucky, I guess, that there was never any doubt that I was going to attend college. But now that I'm here, it's difficult to grasp.
Today was just orientation-type things. Mom and Amy came along to help me move in (Dad is on a fishing trip, but promised to pick me up in May). They left fairly quickly, though, since they had another three hour drive back. In fact, they left so quickly that I didn't really get emotional about it at all. It made me think about the kids who are at the U, and how tempting that must be for them to just go home every weekend. I can't really do that easily.
I've talked to tons of people. I'm usually not super good at making friends, but all of us freshman are in the same boat, so it's easy to relate to and approach people. I'm in Pine Hall, which is coed by floor, and all the girls on my floor seem really nice. Right now as I'm typing our door is open and I can look into the room across the hall and see our neighbors puttering around.
My room still doesn't feel like home, despite all my posters and pictures and books everywhere, but I think it will eventually. As hard as it is to be away from my house and my family and friends, I think that I'm really going to like Morris.
In a few hours my whole floor is walking down to the Morris movie theater (thank goodness they have one) to see a free movie. It's G-Force, which isn't my first choice of movie, but still. It's free. And it should be a good chance to talk to a few more people.
How on God's Green Earth 30 girls will manage to share 2 showers is beyond me, however.
Today was just orientation-type things. Mom and Amy came along to help me move in (Dad is on a fishing trip, but promised to pick me up in May). They left fairly quickly, though, since they had another three hour drive back. In fact, they left so quickly that I didn't really get emotional about it at all. It made me think about the kids who are at the U, and how tempting that must be for them to just go home every weekend. I can't really do that easily.
I've talked to tons of people. I'm usually not super good at making friends, but all of us freshman are in the same boat, so it's easy to relate to and approach people. I'm in Pine Hall, which is coed by floor, and all the girls on my floor seem really nice. Right now as I'm typing our door is open and I can look into the room across the hall and see our neighbors puttering around.
My room still doesn't feel like home, despite all my posters and pictures and books everywhere, but I think it will eventually. As hard as it is to be away from my house and my family and friends, I think that I'm really going to like Morris.
In a few hours my whole floor is walking down to the Morris movie theater (thank goodness they have one) to see a free movie. It's G-Force, which isn't my first choice of movie, but still. It's free. And it should be a good chance to talk to a few more people.
How on God's Green Earth 30 girls will manage to share 2 showers is beyond me, however.
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