It all starts with an essay. I'm not an admissions counselor, so I'm not sure how much it figures into the acceptance process, but we all begin our college careers with an entrance essay. There's a different topic every year, but ultimately it's supposed to tell the school something about ourselves. From Junior High, up to our Senior year in High School, we're given framework and guidance on this elusive and complex skill. And then, in our freshman year of college, we're asked to start over.
I had a bunch of plain, numbered racing bibs that I came across while cleaning out my desk drawers. I was looking for a creative way to use them, and one of my friends suggested organizing a “race” at the local mall. I thought that was a great idea, so we got all dressed up in our best racing gear, donned the official looking numbers, and drove to the mall. It took us about half an hour to scope out what the course should be, but we finally decided that we would use the magnetic detectors at the entrance of Macy’s as the start and finish lines.
My name is Mariah Schlepp, and I am a Pinterest addict. I am also a member of Gamma Phi Beta sorority, and Pinterest is one of my first go-to places for fun ideas to bring to chapter and recruitment. Today I was getting all excited for fall recruitment and went on a pinning spree in search of good ideas; after spending more time in front of my computer than I would care to admit, it occurred to me just how much I miss my sisters.
Don't get me wrong. As much as I love living the campus life at C of I, being back home in Meridian for the past few months has been quite the delightful break. No early morning classes to worry about, no homework, being able to see my family every day--these are perks I wasn't able to get all the time during my freshman year. And with the start of classes looming over us in just a few more weeks, I figure now's as good a time as any to count my home life blessings.
So, without further ado, here are my Top 5 Best Things About Being Home This Summer.
Ikea: it’s the ultimate labyrinth of our time, minus the Minotaur. Boise may not be big enough to merit its own Ikea, but it’s an easy, not too-long drive from Salt Lake City, so my parents and I went down for the weekend and stayed in nearby Park City. I happily spent a few hours lost in the giant maze on a quest to equip my dorm room with inexpensive Swedish goods. One rug, lamp, mirror, pot, pan, collider, spoon, curtain rod, and curtain set later, my parents and I emerged relatively unscathed.
This week has seemed long and kind of uneventful. In reality, plenty of things have happened: I went to the dentist, AND the gym. My sister came home for a few days, but she was so busy that I barely saw her. I played some ultimate frisbee, volleyball, and sticky-noted my friend’s car. I babysat a girl who pulled a tooth out and promptly put every white towel in the house into her mouth to soak up the blood. I did some cleaning, some reading, watched the Olympics.
So I have already mentioned that I grow stuff, yet I have never proven it. Partially because the good folks at Bon Apetit, our cafeteria's caterers, buy all the stuff, before I can even take pictures.
However, a day or two ago, I went around campus, armed with these goods, on a wheelbarrow, and sold this stuff to the staff at the College. It was a sight to see little old me in my welders goggles pusing a wheelbarrow loaded with vegetables which had been picked less then half an hour before being sold.
One of the constant things I've found myself pondering across college life is the question of "home": how we create it, and where we find it. Over the past week, I've been lending my sunburned body to both friends and family to the familiar game of hauling boxes, hurdling truck-beds, and the highs-and-lows of jamming furniture inside unyielding doorframes. I like offering to help; you get to share in some of the satisfaction that arises from structuring a place where people live.