It’s January 1st here, readers. That’s right: 2014.
In case you want some perspective on that, 2014 means that it has been 10 whole years since Facebook launched, 9 years since Lance Armstrong won his 7th Tour de France title (read: “won”) and 8 years since High School Musical came out (don’t act like you are too cool to care about that, readers. There are only two kinds of people in the world: people who can sing along with at least one High School Musical song, and liars.).
A lot has happened since my last blog post. First off, I took my finals and fall term has ended. Finals where as hard as I expected and I felt I had studied enough, and I was fortunate enough to not have to pull an all-nighter. When I got my grades last week, I found out I had done even better than what I had been hoping for.
I have realized that people will often attack your identity first to get to you and not only is this demeaning but it can deter one from achieving his or her purpose. They will doubt you and ask you questions that will end up causing you to ask yourself questions about whether you are worth anything. You are alive for a purpose, so of course you are worthy. Many times, I have sat down to think about who I really am, my roots, my achievements, my experiences, and right there, that is where I found my identity.
Last week when I was home for fall break has really made it feel like fall. Fall is an interesting season because everything is dying, but it’s beautiful. I love fall. All the beautiful colors of the leaves, the smell that invades everything, drinking hot tea and cocoa, and finally getting to wear boots and sweaters.
If I’m not on campus, I’m usually visiting downtown Boise. But once in a while, a weekend outing will keep me closer to the College. Such was last weekend, which found me in nearby Nampa and Marsing. I was on the hunt for two things: a pumpkin, and some pie.
A lot of us get some sort of financial aid to cover our college tuition but we rarely look at how that affects our attitudes.
During the summer break, I had the option of either staying in the U.S. and getting a campus job or going home. I would have had to get airfare and find a job back in Lesotho which would not even pay me half as much as what I would be getting in the U.S. Nonetheless, I flew home.
August is a month that I usually hate. It’s too hot, the novelty of sleeping in till 10 is gone, and I’ve temporarily exhausted my ability to read for hours at a time. Add an eagerness for school to resume to that mix, and you can see why August is normally a bad month for me.