A month into school and I'm surviving. Well, honestly I am more than surviving, I'm loving it. I've made some great friends already and my classes are great.
I love the fact that there is no excuse for being unprepaired other than not managing your time. I also like how pretty much everything I have to do is in a 500-yard radius. It makes it seem like I can do a lot more in my day because I don't have to drive across town for every activity I do. I miss my family quite a bit, but I'm staying busy enough to keep from beeing homesick.
I never got much into Homecoming activities back when I was in high school. Back then, all of it felt so artificial, what with all the ridiculous themes that felt like they were pulled from a hat of dumb ideas, predictable popularity contests, and pep rallies the student body was forced to attend. Of course, college is different from high school in a great variety of ways, and Homecoming is no exception. And I might be a tiny bit biased in my assessment, but I think College of Idaho does Homecoming better than anywhere else.
After a long week of recruitment, I’m back on the quiet floor of the library. By the way, if you saw my post last week about formal recruitment, and then wondered where it went, I had to take it down after being abruptly informed that it was considered a violation of recruitment rules, as it constituted undue contact with potential members.
Washington, D.C. is the most powerful city in the world. For two hundred years it has been a destination for those who want to make a difference in the world. The history you read about in textbooks, the debates you watch on the news – it all happens here.
Last year, I was approached by Dr. Islam, the chair of our English department with an opportunity to help out at our Academic Support Center (ASC) as a writing tutor. At the time, I was a student in her Advanced Fiction Writing Workshop, stressing out somewhat over the lengthy draft of the short story I owed her, extremely honored that she thought I would be a good fit.
This week, I made the tearful decision that me and my Netflix account needed to take a break (he was getting waaaaaayyyyy too clingy). Finding myself suddenly without my go-to entertainment venue, I needed to branch out. I decided to embrace my inner high-society aristocrat and partake in one of life’s richer, finer activities. I dressed in my finest shawls, packed my comically sized binoculars, and asked the driver to saddle up my best horse, for I, ladies and gentlemen, was off to the theatre.
Last year, as a lowly freshman, I found myself on a Friday night sitting around a table in the caf with my floor. Searching around for something to do one girl mentioned a “Hippie Fair” in Boise. So we decided to go. It turned out to be the Hyde Park Street Fair, and we all had a great time eating ice cream and getting airbrush tattoos.