This summer my little sister graduated from high school. Like most seniors, she was ready to get out of there, practically skipped across the stage to receive her diploma, and then spent the next two weeks celebrating her newfound freedom with the rest of her friends. It was exciting to watch, and it brought back all the same feelings I had had three years ago when I graduated. I was reminded of how exhilarating it had been, knowing that the high school part of my life was over, and that college, a goal I had been working towards my whole life, was on the horizon.
In less than a week, I have a 15-page paper due in my 19th Century British Fiction class that, being worth a colossal 40% of my grade, is the factor that will decide what grade I get in that class. A couple months ago, I made a deal with myself that I would write two pages a week on that paper so that when it came to the due date, I wouldn’t be tearing my hair out and punching things in rage. You know how much I have written for that paper?
Nothing. Not a single word. I know, I’m a role model.
Elections are over and congratulations to our new leaders. As a proud Yotie, many thank you's to each and everyone who participated in the elections.
On that note, I recently heard a conversation about the importance of student body elections and realized that some people consider them a formality of no great importance while others argued that they are of great benefit to the student body as a whole.
1. “Marie Irvin as of 4/18” An email from myself. Whenever I have a long-term or large-scale project going, I’ll not only save documents to my computer, but will email myself copies too. This one happens to be on the Marie Irvin project I discussed here. This way, I figure that if I should ever drop my computer/leave it in the path of sprinkler/lose it, I won't lose my work.
I remember when I first got to The College of Idaho and I could not bring myself to ask or answer questions in class. I actually feel a little silly thinking about it now BUT it happened. Had I known how supportive faculty members at the C of I are to students, I would have just gone for it.
The poet Patches O’Houlihan once made the sage observation that if one can dodge a wrench, by extension he can also dodge a ball.
Sadly, readers, it took me crying my way through three years of middle school PE to learn that I cannot dodge a wrench or a ball. But it only took a quiet Sunday afternoon for me to discover that what I can dodge is water balloons simultaneously hurled at me by the swim team. So … there’s that.
That’s the sound my brain makes when it goes into panic mood. It’s a piercing, keening noise that sounds like a moose is being strangled so unsuccessfully, he’s trying to laugh about it. So…that’s kind of where I am emotionally right now.
It’s Friday afternoon of midterms week, and I’m one blog post away from kicking back and relaxing. Ok, that’s not strictly true, I still have to pack my things, check out some books to take on the road with me, and unload the dishwasher, but for most intents and purposes, I’m about finished for the week.
It has been a while since I posted. Mostly because it is my last term here at the College, and between doing 20 credits and working and doing time in the studio, I barely have time to smell the daisies.
Let me give you a brief snapshot of my life right now, readers.
It’s after 5 p.m. here, the sun is shining with more confidence than it has the previous (give or take) 136 days, I have no pressing deadlines to worry about, and I’m a college student. The last bit is important because, as I was telling one of my professors early this week, college students can be defined easily, as they are that unique age group where they all collectively embody pirates.