It is a strange feeling writing something to sum up my college experience. A part of it, most likely, is because I am now in India, rather then Idaho. A lot of people here ask me the expected "Why would I leave America?" A lot of friends in Idaho asked me the same.
Left with only two days before I leave Caldwell, I have been working on implementing my project and although it requires tremendous sacrifice and effort, I was aware at some point that the only way to make it a reality is to put even more extra effort in it than I previously had. At the end of the day, it had become so much more rewarding just simply knowing that I put more work into it even if I don't get a single response from organizations or individuals I have been contacting.
Sophomore year is gone! It all happened so quickly. I remember my excitement moving into a house from the dorms like it was yesterday and now packing things away for the summer just won't end.
Looking back, this was an incredibly amazing year. I couldn't be more proud to be a Yotie. The newsletter is just testament of what a good year it was, whether it was reporting about the institution itself, about students or faculty members.
I can’t mop to save my life readers. If a vicious serial killer approached me, pushed a mop into my hands, and said “Mop my kitchen floors or else you’ll be pushing up daisies,” I would immediately start filing through movie speeches to use as my last words. Already, I’m leaning towards either Denzel Washington’s speech in Remember the Titans, or the lyrics of “We’re All in This Together” from High School Musical (you know, just for one last joke before I go).
By this time next Friday, I’ll be done with my junior year of college, and will be ready to bid adieu to classroom time at the College until February. In the meantime, I’m running around getting signatures for my graduation application and study abroad forms, finishing up papers, and studying for finals. I’m also about to undertake the arduous task of moving out of the Village, which I’m hoping to tackle in increments.
After 91 days, 18 hours, and 53 minutes, I am finally hanging up my cape; my superhero alter ego, The Intern, is finally retiring from her life of heroic shenanigans for good…unless of course a Help Wanted ad appears for the Avengers. Because if there is one thing their dynamic is missing, it’s a sassy B-average college student, with pacifistic ideals and the ability to write mega ultra good occasionally. Your move, Captain America.
It’s been a marathon week, and it’s not quite over yet. Spring Fling looms on the horizon, and it’s about 80 degrees outside. That makes it 50 degrees here in the library, but this place shuts down at 5 o’clock on Fridays, so I’ll be out of here and back in the sunshine soon enough. On the schedule for tonight are tapas at the Basque Market in Boise, and some deep sleep. Tomorrow, I’m hoping to go for a hike before returning to campus for a night of revelry. But, before that, here’s a look back at the week in photos.
Well Yotes, it’s that time of the year again. When, on any given Friday or Saturday you can find the campus swarming with prospective students and incoming freshmen. As a student ambassador, I have been very involved in these events and I’ve gotten to meet a lot of prospective students.
The amount of homework I'm looking at right now is, to put it bluntly, terrifying. Within the next seven days, I need to write around 30 pages of material divided between four writing intensive classes (and another four pages the week after). This is on top of the regularly scheduled reading assignments for those classes, and a bunch of preparation for all my upcoming choir concerts. And it's not even Dead Week yet (that's the week before finals week, for the lucky ones who haven't experienced that special sort of stress).
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.