Quick post tonight because I attended the session on health and discovered that I was not the crazy one in high school: everyone else was wrong. Sleep is important and if you don't get it, you will get swine flu and die. :D I love being right.
The information on vegetarian health was great while breakfast was not; the session on clubs was bittersweet because they say, "OHMYGOSH We invented coolness!" and then "You should only join one club." Tearjerker decision. Naps and good food after the breakfast mess was dealt with, awesome lecture about how all freshmen know nothing and should not declare a major until they are 75.
What's swirling around in my head: decisions. Forming habits now is important, figuring out my class schedule is important, deciding when to pretend I know what song we're dancing to wildly is important. It's not a stressful atmosphere, just a slightly dazed and excited one. A bit like the bachelor uncle in Disney World.
There's a lot of confidence in being in the right place at the right time. I'm very thankful for that.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Monday, August 31, 2009
The Day When A Moving Fairy Would Have Been Helpful
Of all the gifts given to Sleeping Beauty, the most useful one would have been a packing ability. Neither Aurora nor I received this gift and so my room is about 75% unpacked. The worst part is that that last 25% consists of the little things requiring little spaces somewhere in my little room.
I am waging a losing battle against my posters that behaved like beautiful children on my walls at home. Here, armed with adhesive blue putty, I have been hammering, taping, banging, cajoling and cursing these stupid beasts who refuse to stay where they are puttied. An odd combination of unnatural substances seems to do the trick but our whiteboard outside is a fallen hero. I haven't taken the class on Florence Nightengale yet.
Our group of first years met, and I was struck by its unoriginality. Not that it wasn't fun (it kind of was), or that the people don't seem interesting (they kind of do), but we've done this. We've done this at every camp-youthgroup-school-class-anything and college name games are the same name games as everywhere else.
Off to continue to fight the good fight. This may be Waterloo, but I AM the Duke of Wellington and the posters will die a Corsican defeat.
I am waging a losing battle against my posters that behaved like beautiful children on my walls at home. Here, armed with adhesive blue putty, I have been hammering, taping, banging, cajoling and cursing these stupid beasts who refuse to stay where they are puttied. An odd combination of unnatural substances seems to do the trick but our whiteboard outside is a fallen hero. I haven't taken the class on Florence Nightengale yet.
Our group of first years met, and I was struck by its unoriginality. Not that it wasn't fun (it kind of was), or that the people don't seem interesting (they kind of do), but we've done this. We've done this at every camp-youthgroup-school-class-anything and college name games are the same name games as everywhere else.
Off to continue to fight the good fight. This may be Waterloo, but I AM the Duke of Wellington and the posters will die a Corsican defeat.
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