Classes have officially started here at C of I, and with them new beginnings. Granted, I hadn't expected one of those new beginnings to involve hairifying amounts of mustache puns, but I'm sure I'll shaver the experience nonetheless.
Because apparently I broke a mirror (or 20) in my youth, my return to campus yesterday was met with crisis.
After putting the finishing touches on my room, I was going over my schedule before classes resumed and my friend happened to notice something just a wee bit disconcerting, in regards to my Wednesdays. I have Intro to Film from 2:10-4:10…but my Poetry Workshop starts at 3:30.
After three carloads from Boise, I’m all moved into my apartment. I scored a spot in the two person Mustard apartments for the year, and am happily situated on the first floor. I moved in on Friday, and even after just a few days I’m reaping the benefits of Village living.
One of these benefits is still being on campus. McCain is less than a hundred meters from my patio, and I’m looking forward to being able to pick up my 12 oz chai on the way to class.
You guys. We have freshman on campus again. Like, tons of them. I'm not sure what the exact number is--I heard that there were around 130 moving into Anderson Hall alone--but there are A LOT of newborn Coyotes learning to navigate this campus of ours.
Only 6 days until I move back in! I’m so excited. I think my new roommate Katherine and I will have a great time, and I’ve been planning so that our dorm will look AWESOME next year. I’m living in Simplot, which should be great. I’m very happy that it’s close to the dining hall (though that won’t help me in keeping the Freshman Fifteen…or maybe the Sophomore Sixteen away). I am a little worried about getting lost inside because it’s a maze in there. But I’m sure I will learn my way around quickly. I’m going to be on the third floor again, which I am so happy about.
So in my previous post, I mentioned that the post was going to be possibly the last one from India. Somewhat true. As I write this, I am sitting in New Delhi Airport, waiting for my flight to Frankfurt. So in a manner, this is my last post from India. It is just a matter of convenience that I will upload it online when I reach Frankfurt, with its glorious 30 minutes of free internet.
The mountains were covered in smoke from the wild fires. Realizing this, my friends were somewhat disappointed that this would distort my view of Stanley's breathtaking mountain peaks. Somehow, I was able to look past the smoke and almost did not understand what they were saying because I was in awe at how perfectly the trees were aligned with the mountains and how softly the warm breeze whisked through the leaves, like I could have sworn they were whispering something. I suddenly went silent and almost shed a tear of happiness from the beauty created by the waves on the lake.
A whole two years ago, when I was headed into my freshmen year, I tried to adopt the policy of saying “yes.” As in, I would say yes to whatever new experience was being offered up. Do you want to go rafting? Yes. Do you want to join a sorority? Yes. Do you want to go to this concert? Yes. Do you want to jump into this lake? Yes. Do you want to hang out and eat chips and salsa? Yes. Do you want to go to this party? Yes. Do you want to volunteer at this event? Yes. Do you want to write this article? Yes.