So I'm sitting here in my new dorm room alone. I'm off work and all alone. Kassy and I stayed up all night the other night talking and we're both incredulous to be here. I don't know if it's the fact that I'm a Towers Kid now, or that I'm here, but Hutchy and Noor aren't, or that school is already here now.
Either way it feels surreal. I'm sure once the building is over crowded with parents and disgruntled students moving in on Thursday the reality will come crashing in.
Ha. I love parents on a college campus. There is no other group of people who look so obviously out of place. Especially freshmen's parents. There's usually a misty-eyed mother with her hand on her son's shoulders giving him in explicit detail where she and his father with be for the next six months and all possible contact numbers in which to reach them. Then, there's the annoying younger brother/sister (possibly both) running the halls, looking in other rooms, poking around in the showers, and being generally annoying. This is only topped by a gruff father (usually wearing khaki shorts with a great sandals/socks combo) complaining about how much he's paying for this education and that his son/daughter deserves more space than this shoebox with beds (all while he's arranging the furniture in the room and loading in boxes).
After the delightfully sweaty affair of loading stuff into the room, they may take a walk around campus. These squinty-eyed tourists are easy to spot: they look exactly like the aforementioned family, but this time they are traveling as one, scared pod of people. With hands over brow, they wander campus and fawn over the smallest things ('Oh look, Joshua, there are BENCHES outside the buildings, so you can sit and do homework, or talk with friends'- no one has the heart to tell them that good ol' Joshy will probably not do his homework at all the first year, and will probably never go to class, therefore never seeing that bench again, save for the time he throws up all over it the night of the Sigma mixer). Then they will complain about the weirdest things ('They don't mow in a diagonal pattern...what kind of college IS this'). They will most likely be in your way, and crowding the entire sidewalk, as well as assuming anyone they see walking around campus NOT looking as clueless as they do works there, feeling free to stop them to ask a question.
After they have had their fill of looking like idiots, the family goes out to eat. Move-in day is a cursed day in the restaurant business. As a former server, I dreaded this day. The overly crowded restaurant is made worse by the throng of people waiting to be seated, growing more and more impatient with every passing minute. To compound their irritation, they have time to reflect on how long it took them to move in, how hot it is outside, and how much the next four years is going to cost them. By the time they are seated they're ready to eat the server, drink their blood, and leave a nasty complaint with the manager. This is why if I ever work as a server again, I'm calling in sick that day.
After the family has stuffed themselves, little Joshy conveniently remembers that he left his sheet set at home, and has no body wash. So the family climbs back into the Tahoe and head to Wal Mart. There, they are met with what can only be described as a new layer of hell. Every single parking spot is filled, the lanes are teeming with people, and driving anywhere is near impossible. Once a parking spot is obtained (thank God dad brought a gun!) they go in, only to be met with more people than the Macy's Thanksgiving Parade could generate. (They feel comfortable, however, because everyone else in the store looks JUST as dumb as they do). They get the necessities, and some extras (even though dad insisted Joshua did NOT need the memory foam mattress pad, down comforter, and a panini maker-but mom was hearing none of it). After all of this they drop Joshy tearfully at the door of his dorm. Mom gets out to give a tender hug, younger sibling feels no need to stop watching the dvd player to get out, and dad gets out for a quick handshake/backpat combo. After a few rounds of generic goodbyes and 'doyourhomework's, mom and dad drive away (as mom tears up, of course).
Joshy walks up to his room with a sense of accomplishment and excitement, as the parents leave with false hope and naive trust in lil' Joshua. If I'm going with stereotypes and statistics, within a week Josh will have played more beer pong than necessary, spent all of the money on the emergency credit card momndad gave him, and most likely will have contracted an STD.
Now, Lori, you say. Not everyone ends up so badly, there are people who actually try and do well. And I'm saying I agree. However, I seemed to have befriended that entire percentage, however minute it might be. They would most likely agree with me that my depiction of lil' Joshy is mostly accurate.
That's not to say that momndad are to be looked down on, as well as freshmen. If I looked down on lower classmen I would have almost no friends. And I was there once. My dad and mom did the same things (still do, actually). It's part of the magic of college. Satirizing what's surrounding me is one of my favorite things to do....
You know you <3 me!
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Saturday, August 15, 2009
School's In
So I'm starting a new school year...again. I'll be doing this for the next like, eight years so I don't know why every year I still get a glimmer of that child-like tummy flip. Remember? Or am I the only one???
Every new school year I salivate walking into the store and practically run to the seasonal aisle. I get excited by the smell of fresh plastic and nylon. All of the colorful, clean, and new supplies sparkle more brilliantly than any jewel to me. It means new beginnings, new people, a second chance. Forget that you didn't do the mile in under fifteen minutes last semester (for me? Thirty.....that test was superfluous! What did it test, anyways? My ability to outrun the authorities?? Oh THERE's a trait to teach the kiddies.) Forget that you spilled orange-ade on your white tank the last day of school.....everyone else most likely did!
It's a chance to try yet again to fool people into believing you to be a capable human being. So I stocked up with the coolest dorm stuff. You know, the cute stuff from the commercial? The stuff that every other girl on your floor got but you were too busy paying bills to afford the fuzzy rug and hot pink lamp (and your parents thought all of that to be too distracting, and instead sent you to freshman year with a brown rug and burlap bath towel....thanks, dad!). But I'm so excited to set up my dorm room. I upgraded to a building with carpet and a bathroom I don't have to share with thirty other girls....My parents aren't exactly ecstatic about the price difference, but I'm hoping the improvement in my mood with improve my grades and in turn convince them it was a good decision.
I moved off campus for a year (worst decision I ever made) so this year I have that freshman-feeling again. Especially with the new building. I'm excited to meet new people, but will the age difference be a deterrent? Or make me pathetic? I mean, I'll be 21 a month after school starts. In my building it's only returning students so the youngest should be like, 19...but still....would that make me that creepy old person that sucks the fun and life from too-nice groups of college kids?
Oy vey...I did start THE coolest on-campus job. I work for the Telecommunications Office. Most of the time, I'm a switchboard operator. So I work only during the week, til 5 at the latest. I sit in the back at a cubicle and answer the phone and transfer calls. I can do homework, play games, text, go on facebook, whatever. It's a dream come true. Sometimes I'll be up front, though. But even that's easy. I'll fill out work orders when necessary, check emails, and answer Telecom's phones. The only thing I can't do up there that I can in back is play games. It's a pretty great gig.Soooo....
I'm an insomniac. No, really. And I can't get drugs for it because they're all too addictive or something so if I want it to stop naturally I have to follow all these crazy rules. For example, go to bed and get up at the same time regardless of the day. Ahem, I'm sorry but there's no way I'm getting up on a Saturday at the same time I got up for class on Friday. No no no......And then, I can't eat after seven, nor drink caffeine past five. Ok, my usual dinner time is around ten and caffeine is my main food group. I don't think people realize how absolutely bat-crap angry I would be all the time without it. These rules are bogus. It's a lifestyle that Buddhist MONKS wouldn't be able to handle, so why should I even try?? *whine* Just hand me the drugs!
I'm a little worried about this semester. I hate school (I know, I know....doesn't really tie-in to my love of new school supplies) and structure. Sometimes I think it's just not for me. But I don't want to be one of THOSE kids, you know. Plus, with what I want to do....a college degree is slightly necessary. I don't see any law firms putting out ads 'No experience necessary! 500 dollars an hour!'.....
Every new school year I salivate walking into the store and practically run to the seasonal aisle. I get excited by the smell of fresh plastic and nylon. All of the colorful, clean, and new supplies sparkle more brilliantly than any jewel to me. It means new beginnings, new people, a second chance. Forget that you didn't do the mile in under fifteen minutes last semester (for me? Thirty.....that test was superfluous! What did it test, anyways? My ability to outrun the authorities?? Oh THERE's a trait to teach the kiddies.) Forget that you spilled orange-ade on your white tank the last day of school.....everyone else most likely did!
It's a chance to try yet again to fool people into believing you to be a capable human being. So I stocked up with the coolest dorm stuff. You know, the cute stuff from the commercial? The stuff that every other girl on your floor got but you were too busy paying bills to afford the fuzzy rug and hot pink lamp (and your parents thought all of that to be too distracting, and instead sent you to freshman year with a brown rug and burlap bath towel....thanks, dad!). But I'm so excited to set up my dorm room. I upgraded to a building with carpet and a bathroom I don't have to share with thirty other girls....My parents aren't exactly ecstatic about the price difference, but I'm hoping the improvement in my mood with improve my grades and in turn convince them it was a good decision.
I moved off campus for a year (worst decision I ever made) so this year I have that freshman-feeling again. Especially with the new building. I'm excited to meet new people, but will the age difference be a deterrent? Or make me pathetic? I mean, I'll be 21 a month after school starts. In my building it's only returning students so the youngest should be like, 19...but still....would that make me that creepy old person that sucks the fun and life from too-nice groups of college kids?
Oy vey...I did start THE coolest on-campus job. I work for the Telecommunications Office. Most of the time, I'm a switchboard operator. So I work only during the week, til 5 at the latest. I sit in the back at a cubicle and answer the phone and transfer calls. I can do homework, play games, text, go on facebook, whatever. It's a dream come true. Sometimes I'll be up front, though. But even that's easy. I'll fill out work orders when necessary, check emails, and answer Telecom's phones. The only thing I can't do up there that I can in back is play games. It's a pretty great gig.Soooo....
I'm an insomniac. No, really. And I can't get drugs for it because they're all too addictive or something so if I want it to stop naturally I have to follow all these crazy rules. For example, go to bed and get up at the same time regardless of the day. Ahem, I'm sorry but there's no way I'm getting up on a Saturday at the same time I got up for class on Friday. No no no......And then, I can't eat after seven, nor drink caffeine past five. Ok, my usual dinner time is around ten and caffeine is my main food group. I don't think people realize how absolutely bat-crap angry I would be all the time without it. These rules are bogus. It's a lifestyle that Buddhist MONKS wouldn't be able to handle, so why should I even try?? *whine* Just hand me the drugs!
I'm a little worried about this semester. I hate school (I know, I know....doesn't really tie-in to my love of new school supplies) and structure. Sometimes I think it's just not for me. But I don't want to be one of THOSE kids, you know. Plus, with what I want to do....a college degree is slightly necessary. I don't see any law firms putting out ads 'No experience necessary! 500 dollars an hour!'.....
Like Whoa
Alas, another oldie!
A pale figure stands before me
Her sunken, dark eyes blankly stare back at me,
Hauntingly empty, like those of a porcelain doll
Far beyond the blank caves
Is a glimmer of something
Pain, loss, and fear burned through
Seering my chest and pulling me deeper
Deeper into her murky reverie
I tear my eyes from hers
Only to find a thin, taut line
Carved into her delicate face
Where her mouth should be
The pursed lips speak volumes
Of all she's lost
Her face is a ghost, a shadow
Of the gentle, trusting beauty
That once graced her features
My eyes travel down her body
It's halting movements and unsure stature
Tell me all about who has hurt her
Her frame acts as a cage, imprisoning her
She's there, hidden deep inside
The dark recesses of her own body
Her cries for help were long ago silenced
For no one listened
She stands before me
Broken, lost, ashamed
Full of unimaginable sorrow
I can no longer bear to look
To know she's too far gone
To know I cannot help her
Nor does she trust anyone to help her
So I turn
And walk away from the mirror
A pale figure stands before me
Her sunken, dark eyes blankly stare back at me,
Hauntingly empty, like those of a porcelain doll
Far beyond the blank caves
Is a glimmer of something
Pain, loss, and fear burned through
Seering my chest and pulling me deeper
Deeper into her murky reverie
I tear my eyes from hers
Only to find a thin, taut line
Carved into her delicate face
Where her mouth should be
The pursed lips speak volumes
Of all she's lost
Her face is a ghost, a shadow
Of the gentle, trusting beauty
That once graced her features
My eyes travel down her body
It's halting movements and unsure stature
Tell me all about who has hurt her
Her frame acts as a cage, imprisoning her
She's there, hidden deep inside
The dark recesses of her own body
Her cries for help were long ago silenced
For no one listened
She stands before me
Broken, lost, ashamed
Full of unimaginable sorrow
I can no longer bear to look
To know she's too far gone
To know I cannot help her
Nor does she trust anyone to help her
So I turn
And walk away from the mirror
From Within
Another one from a couple years back...
who knew doing laundry was such a painful experience
all my memories of you come flooding back
into my achingly empty heart
with just one sniff
the last time I wore it was with you
and you're all over it
and crashing in around me
are all of our memories
I remembered all the teasing and playful punches
I remember every time you said 'i love you'
I remember how it would take my breath away every time you held me close
and whisper it in my ear
I long to lose myself in your kiss
drown myself in your touch
inundate my heart with your words
but
impossibility floods my mind
as i come tearfully crashing back to reality
the loss of you
was so much greater than i expected
i miss running my hand through your hair
i miss your hand on my leg as you drove me home
i miss the way you held me and made the rest of the world melt away
i miss the way we use to be
and yet, deep down, i knew it was doomed from the start
our paths, interests and lives always ran parallel
never intersected
our past hung in the shadows waiting to pick us apart
i guess i knew what was coming
maybe should have expected it
but what i did not know
was how much it would hurt
who knew doing laundry was such a painful experience
all my memories of you come flooding back
into my achingly empty heart
with just one sniff
the last time I wore it was with you
and you're all over it
and crashing in around me
are all of our memories
I remembered all the teasing and playful punches
I remember every time you said 'i love you'
I remember how it would take my breath away every time you held me close
and whisper it in my ear
I long to lose myself in your kiss
drown myself in your touch
inundate my heart with your words
but
impossibility floods my mind
as i come tearfully crashing back to reality
the loss of you
was so much greater than i expected
i miss running my hand through your hair
i miss your hand on my leg as you drove me home
i miss the way you held me and made the rest of the world melt away
i miss the way we use to be
and yet, deep down, i knew it was doomed from the start
our paths, interests and lives always ran parallel
never intersected
our past hung in the shadows waiting to pick us apart
i guess i knew what was coming
maybe should have expected it
but what i did not know
was how much it would hurt
A Poem With No Name
This is something I wrote about three years ago, it's one of my favorites:
As I watch you fall asleep
My vision begins to blur
It's all I can do to keep
My tears from falling
I reflect on all our good times
Feel guilt for all the bad
I regret our simple crimes
Of neglecting what we had
Your love for me was greater
Than I can comprehend
We always thought we had a
'later'There's no longer time to mend
As you lie in your plastic spider web
Every breath seems like such a chore
I beg God to please take me instead
Because yo're worth so much more
I'll always remember the way you smiled
And the way you did your hair
The smell of you will always linger
And all you did to show you cared
I'm sorry I couldn't do better
I'm sorry I wasn't more like you
But now it's too late, you can't hear my words
I guess my prayers will have to do
As I watch you fall asleep
My vision begins to blur
It's all I can do to keep
My tears from falling
I reflect on all our good times
Feel guilt for all the bad
I regret our simple crimes
Of neglecting what we had
Your love for me was greater
Than I can comprehend
We always thought we had a
'later'There's no longer time to mend
As you lie in your plastic spider web
Every breath seems like such a chore
I beg God to please take me instead
Because yo're worth so much more
I'll always remember the way you smiled
And the way you did your hair
The smell of you will always linger
And all you did to show you cared
I'm sorry I couldn't do better
I'm sorry I wasn't more like you
But now it's too late, you can't hear my words
I guess my prayers will have to do
The First of Many
Ahoy,
And I'm off on this adventure of blogging publicly. (For those who find my interesting enough to read, that is). The truth is, in everyday life I don't think I would freely admit to being a 'blogger'. I could never fess up to doing something I once scoffed at as being self-indulgent and 'weird'. The truth is, I'm a Pre-Law major at a State school. I've been writing since I was five and writing in a journal seemed to be one step away from carrying a bent-up copy of Catcher in the Rye in my back pocket and smoking herbals. I no longer am satisfied by writing in Word on my computer. I need to try something new and see where it takes me.
I know there's an About Me kind of section on here, so I'll spare you the scintillating details of where I'm from and what my favorite food it. I'll kind of just ease on in. I will precede with this, however: I am not grammatically inclined. You WILL see mistakes in grammar, and possibly (although very rarely) in spelling. Bear with me. When my ideas start flowing, it's hard for me to slow down and make sure I'm typing correctly.
I'm excited to get started because I have been writing semi-privately for years on myspace (feel free to add me and let me know you're wanting to read my writings) and kept getting rave reviews from people (not just my friends, I'm not THAT naive, haha). I noticed I would get fifty to a hundred views per entry. I figured why not go public?
With my writings I like to explore certain subjects. Sometimes they are very specific, other times they are broad, but whittled down to specificality. (SO a word). The subjects that interest me most are people. I love people. I love watching them, observing them, and yes, making fun of them. One of my favorite things to do (which is how my sister-in-law and I connected, which I don't know if this makes us bitter hags or just plain fun, but I don't care!) is to sit in the mall on a bench, with my white chocolatesoysugarfreehazlenut starbucks (pretentious, I know) and watch people. While watching, I will make comments about them, everything from what they're doing, wearing, saying, EVERYthing is up for grabs. If there by myself, the comments stay in my head, if there with others, I just spill it. I figure it like this, if you're going to go out with crimped hair in a sparkly scrunchy and a metallic fannypack at age 30, you deserve my ridicule.
If you are a family that buys matching Christmas sweaters for all of you AND the dog, you deserve my ridicule. If you are a 300 pound woman in a cami and snakeskin mini during lunch, you deserve my ridicule! Don't get me wrong, I'm a curvy girl. And my clothes aren't the peak of fashion. But I know how to leave my house not looking like an absolute train wreck. I have too much self-respect to do that to myself and my loved ones.
I don't mean to portray myself as a mean person. If anything I am blessed with the gift of observation and cursed with my mother's ability to judge with no guilt. If anything it's more like contstructive criticism with a sting.
Anyway, most of my blogs will be an observation of behavior. I'm most inspired when I go to a new place and watch people. (Not the creepy/stalker way....like, the Anthropologist kind of way...).
Well, that's all for this introduction.
And I'm off on this adventure of blogging publicly. (For those who find my interesting enough to read, that is). The truth is, in everyday life I don't think I would freely admit to being a 'blogger'. I could never fess up to doing something I once scoffed at as being self-indulgent and 'weird'. The truth is, I'm a Pre-Law major at a State school. I've been writing since I was five and writing in a journal seemed to be one step away from carrying a bent-up copy of Catcher in the Rye in my back pocket and smoking herbals. I no longer am satisfied by writing in Word on my computer. I need to try something new and see where it takes me.
I know there's an About Me kind of section on here, so I'll spare you the scintillating details of where I'm from and what my favorite food it. I'll kind of just ease on in. I will precede with this, however: I am not grammatically inclined. You WILL see mistakes in grammar, and possibly (although very rarely) in spelling. Bear with me. When my ideas start flowing, it's hard for me to slow down and make sure I'm typing correctly.
I'm excited to get started because I have been writing semi-privately for years on myspace (feel free to add me and let me know you're wanting to read my writings) and kept getting rave reviews from people (not just my friends, I'm not THAT naive, haha). I noticed I would get fifty to a hundred views per entry. I figured why not go public?
With my writings I like to explore certain subjects. Sometimes they are very specific, other times they are broad, but whittled down to specificality. (SO a word). The subjects that interest me most are people. I love people. I love watching them, observing them, and yes, making fun of them. One of my favorite things to do (which is how my sister-in-law and I connected, which I don't know if this makes us bitter hags or just plain fun, but I don't care!) is to sit in the mall on a bench, with my white chocolatesoysugarfreehazlenut starbucks (pretentious, I know) and watch people. While watching, I will make comments about them, everything from what they're doing, wearing, saying, EVERYthing is up for grabs. If there by myself, the comments stay in my head, if there with others, I just spill it. I figure it like this, if you're going to go out with crimped hair in a sparkly scrunchy and a metallic fannypack at age 30, you deserve my ridicule.
If you are a family that buys matching Christmas sweaters for all of you AND the dog, you deserve my ridicule. If you are a 300 pound woman in a cami and snakeskin mini during lunch, you deserve my ridicule! Don't get me wrong, I'm a curvy girl. And my clothes aren't the peak of fashion. But I know how to leave my house not looking like an absolute train wreck. I have too much self-respect to do that to myself and my loved ones.
I don't mean to portray myself as a mean person. If anything I am blessed with the gift of observation and cursed with my mother's ability to judge with no guilt. If anything it's more like contstructive criticism with a sting.
Anyway, most of my blogs will be an observation of behavior. I'm most inspired when I go to a new place and watch people. (Not the creepy/stalker way....like, the Anthropologist kind of way...).
Well, that's all for this introduction.
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