Good morning/afternoon/evening/night, readers! It is, in fact, morning here in Boise and I am taking a break from being a hard-hitting journalist to write to you, because I had something to say that was too important to wait until I made it back to school. Not only is March Fourth the only day of the year that can be read as a full sentence, it also is this blogger’s birthday. So, in honor of me being 20 years old today, I will be answering 20 questions relating to life, love, and the pursuit of a college education. Now, let us march forth to greatness!
I honestly do not remember the last time I sat down in peace without thinking there's a ton of things I needed to do. It certainly isn't peaceful but it's good.
A lot is happening in the month of March and I don't just mean Spring Fling, although I am looking forward to it. I will be attending the Clinton Global Initiative conference in two weeks in Arizona and that has got me doing so much work in preparation.
Now that I’m back at school, I’m a little more adjusted to life in the U.S. That’s not to say that I don’t miss France. Numerous times, I’ve found myself walking back from class and thinking, “I could really use a crepe right now.” But alas, there is not an abundance of crepe stands in Idaho. I’ve (mostly) stopped speaking French to people who don’t understand me, and I have gotten used to using dollars again.
At 4 a.m. last Thursday morning, armed with five hours of sleep, an extremely heavy garment bag, and enough cold medication on hand to keep three men healthy and satisfied, I embarked on a road trip to the San Francisco Bay area of California. Along for the ride were Derek and David, two of my fellow Delt brothers, both of whom were also fighting off nasty colds just as I was. But the state of our sinuses wasn't our worry. With ten and a half hours to go until we reached our hotel in Pleasanton, all that mattered was staying awake and getting to our destination in time.
Aside from being a negligent blogger for the last week and half, I’ve been up to the usual spring semester occupations—reading, and constantly checking the weather in hopes of high temps and sunshine. Right now it’s 45 and sunny in Caldwell, and I’m celebrating with a dress that’s more appropriate for 70-degree weather. The rest of campus is feeling it too—there have been squadrons of frolfers out, and one or two particularly ambitious souls trying to get their tan on.
I'm not going to lie to you, guys: the start of spring semester has been a crazy amount of work so far. I suppose in a lot of ways I brought it on myself - I could have prepared my articles for the upcoming issue of the Coyote earlier, I could have spent more time preparing my fiction piece for a scholarship competition during the break between winter and spring, I could have chosen classes to take that required way less reading (my ENG-333 seminar has me reading at least one Hemingway novel a week, for example), and so on.
Spring semester 2013 was without a doubt my favorite semester at the C of I (not that any of the other semesters have been any short of awesome). I had been eagerly anticipating this semester to start because I guess I knew it was going to be a great semester. I wasn't wrong.
It’s the first Friday of spring term, and more importantly, it’s Valentine’s Day. One of the great things about living on campus with a bunch of other young people is that Valentine's is just as much a celebration of friendship as it is a romantic celebration.
As evidenced by the hopping mail center today, lots of people are sending Valentine’s goodies and wishes to each other on campus. One thing my sorority did this Valentine’s Day was an exchange where everyone was responsible for sending a little card or present to a sister whose name they’d drawn at random.
While that may, in fact, be a Star Trek quote (Ashley make a Star Trek reference? Noooo wwaaaaaaaaayyyy!) it is a surprisingly fitting way to describe my current frame of mind.
As we stumble through the first few days of Spring Semester, bleary-eyed and running on too much coffee and too little sleep, life at C of I begins to fall into a recognizable pattern. It’s familiar, it’s comfortable, it’s us; but, at the same time, it is also brand new.