I started packing Friday afternoon, thinking that hey, I'm a minimalist. I don't have that much stuff. How very wrong I was... the whole packing process was completely exhausting and took forever. My flight was at 4:00 on Saturday - by 4:45 we were still putting things into storage. We were supposed to take one more trip to get my stuff, but the storage place closed before we got a chance. So not only did I miss my flight, I couldn't even get on another one last night because I still had a fan, microwave, tv, drawers, and two cardboard boxes to go.
Move-out was supposed to be completely done by 6; ResLife started locking the suites/dorms shut. So I was a homeless girl with boxes of stuff in front of the building. I ended up moving it all to Rishi's, and from there we put everything at Gavin's. We were supposed to drink, but I fell asleep in the most awesome oversized couch at Gavin's while the boys watched Ghostrider and participated in questionable activities. We missed our flight again today at 1:05 because Johnson and Rishi were lagging... so they decided we should smoke with the extra hour of free time. Which ended up with us being delayed once MORE, and missing the 2:40 flight as well. Honestly, three missed flights. I felt like I was passing in and out of consciousness on the ride/at the airport/on the plane.
Moving out was bittersweet, especially being the last one in the empty suite. Europe Hall was more than anything I thought it would be. I'll miss living only a floor away from my closest friends. Even though we never made that magical sisterhood that some suites find, I grew to appreciate my suitemates. Even the ones who gave me disapproving looks when we ordered pizza three times a week, as I bounced drunkenly down the hall on Wednesday nights, etc. I really honestly did believe that Europe was full of the most amazing people... We had our stoners (Chang, Mike, Will), flamboyant gays (Brooks and Andrew), crazies like Joeva, Bri, and Lisi, talk show host Brandon, Varun the big-haired, my Kappa pledge sisters... Definitely the most unique of characters. I feel like freshman year is a condensed form of life experiences - you learn independence, gain new friendships, keep in touch with the old, develop your tolerance, discover things about yourself you never knew. As I've said before it's funny how all of us being put into this one building together put the wheels in motion for so much more. A whole year's worth of laughter, tears, and memories.
When I arrived, Europe Hall was just this huge and impersonal place, full of a hundred or so strangers. But at some unnoticed point in time - I started to call it "home." Somehow the personalities and habits of the people I lived with just started to grow on me. don't know if I could do my freshman year justice, so I won't try.
I can't believe I'm off to the motherland in a little more than a week. Excited but a bit apprehensive... my Chinese more or less incomprehensible these days. Between now and then I have errands, errands, errands. DMV, eyebrows, haircut, golf tournament money, schedule... so busy! This summer I'm missing out on the luxury of utterly unproductive, sticky days of sleeping in until noon, catching up with friends all afternoon over iced coffee, or vegging on the couch watching ANTM reruns.
Showing posts with label dorm life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dorm life. Show all posts
Sunday, June 17, 2007
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Life is like a bag of popcorn...
I have an 8-page paper due tomorrow for Sociology that I am desperately avoiding. Finals week has taken a toll on my health. And my face. I have Final's Face; in other words my skin has gone seven kinds of crazy. My sleeping schedule is disastrous. I should really win a prize for Most Consecutive Hours Spent at the Library. It has reached the point that now I bring my pillow, blanket, and toothbrush. I should start an anti-finals campaign, based on the number of cigarettes that litter the ground in front of the library. Finals: NOT anyone's anti-drug.
I just finished my MUS15 (Japanese Pop) final, and let me tell you this: things are not looking good. I'm not by any means proud of this, but I won't lie, my multiple choice answers are a combination of no less than four different people sitting around me, none of whom I have very much confidence in either. In previous quarters when I studied for finals, in the end there's that sudden moment - where the big picture, the whole enchilada, what have you - finally hits, and you experience this great wave of understanding, in which all the pieces fall into place, and the little bits of information suddenly all make sense together. This quarter I had no such thing. I'm still very much in the dark about what my courses were about.
No meal points and no cash meant no dinner, so I ate half a bar of chocolate and made myself a bag of popcorn. Those stories about starving/broke college kids are entirely true. Now that I'm done munching there are over a hundred unpopped kernels. I always come up with these silly analogies that seem really brilliant in my mind. I got to thinking, when you make popcorn - yeah, if you pop it into the microwave for too long, chances are you'll end up with some black popcorn. But the alternative is to undercook it - resulting in handfuls of leftover kernels. Kernels that had so much potential... but nope, they go entirely to waste.
So yeah, maybe you take that risk, and you microwave your popcorn just a little longer. It might be a mistake... you might end up burning your popcorn. It might not taste as good as it could have. But at least you don't end up with these kernels of unfulfilled chances.
Though I really shouldn't be talking, seeing as I tend to avoid risk at all costs. Unless it involves my GPA - somehow I'm willing to throw that to the wind and see how things go. I realize this tells a lot about my lack of common sense. But in all other aspects of life, I analyze the potential for disaster and in my imagination, there are always grand Star Wars scenes of destruction and annihilation.
I just finished my MUS15 (Japanese Pop) final, and let me tell you this: things are not looking good. I'm not by any means proud of this, but I won't lie, my multiple choice answers are a combination of no less than four different people sitting around me, none of whom I have very much confidence in either. In previous quarters when I studied for finals, in the end there's that sudden moment - where the big picture, the whole enchilada, what have you - finally hits, and you experience this great wave of understanding, in which all the pieces fall into place, and the little bits of information suddenly all make sense together. This quarter I had no such thing. I'm still very much in the dark about what my courses were about.
No meal points and no cash meant no dinner, so I ate half a bar of chocolate and made myself a bag of popcorn. Those stories about starving/broke college kids are entirely true. Now that I'm done munching there are over a hundred unpopped kernels. I always come up with these silly analogies that seem really brilliant in my mind. I got to thinking, when you make popcorn - yeah, if you pop it into the microwave for too long, chances are you'll end up with some black popcorn. But the alternative is to undercook it - resulting in handfuls of leftover kernels. Kernels that had so much potential... but nope, they go entirely to waste.
So yeah, maybe you take that risk, and you microwave your popcorn just a little longer. It might be a mistake... you might end up burning your popcorn. It might not taste as good as it could have. But at least you don't end up with these kernels of unfulfilled chances.
Though I really shouldn't be talking, seeing as I tend to avoid risk at all costs. Unless it involves my GPA - somehow I'm willing to throw that to the wind and see how things go. I realize this tells a lot about my lack of common sense. But in all other aspects of life, I analyze the potential for disaster and in my imagination, there are always grand Star Wars scenes of destruction and annihilation.
Sunday, June 10, 2007
It's 9 AM, and I'm still locked out.
On normal nights, my suitemates lock the suite doors at 12 AM, and then I proceed to go in and out several times, leaving the doors unlocked in the process. Tonight I happened to be at the library until late (not gonna lie, the UCSD nerdiness gets to even the best of us at some point or other). And just my luck... I go upstairs through the backway to my balcony, and upon trying the door... I realize that my normal method of entry is just not going to happen tonight.
So I've been downstairs in my friend's room for the past four hours trying to get some studying done as he snores away happily. His roommate is reading aloud facts about LDL cholestrol and reciting the Kreb cycle, all done while rapping to TI, very atrociously I might add. But he raps with passion, and really, I have always been a supporter of all things done with passion.
Periodic trips upstairs to check if my suitemates are awake have proved more or less futile. Somehow in my sleep-deprived state, standing at the window peering in with a puppy-dog expression seemed like it might telepathically elicit some sort of response. Obviously not, as I'm still here, and nothing has changed.
Friday night was the last drinking episode ever of freshman year with H, K, and S. Andre Nickatina backing out of the concert last minute was a disappointment, but Mistah FAB was fun. I got trampled and lost a shoe, but I dared not to venture back into that mosh pit until the crowd had subsided. After one too many incidents with my never-healing big toenail, I wasn't about to take any more chances. That thing has been a sight to behold for about six months now, with virtually no signs of improvement.
I am never doing laundry on a drinking night again. It is far too much obligation to wake up to the combination of 1) bad breath and day-old makeup, 2) the unpleasant sight of alcoholic clutter littering the desk and floor, and 3) three loads of laundry to carry/de-wrinkle/fold. Saturday mornings were created only for happy things, like Belgium waffles and Facebooking in bed.
As of 9:14 AM I have lost all interest in my MMW3 notes, as fascinating as Bedouin nomadic pastoralists are. As always, Facebook came to the rescue and picked me up momentarily out of the fiery pits of boredom. The best Facebook group discoveries are most definitely discovered during all nighters, e.g. "Writing Papers Single Spaced First Makes My Double Spaced Result Climactic" and "I Want Detective Stabler to Specially Victimize Me with His Unit." I have never felt more strongly so early in the morning about such causes.
So I've been downstairs in my friend's room for the past four hours trying to get some studying done as he snores away happily. His roommate is reading aloud facts about LDL cholestrol and reciting the Kreb cycle, all done while rapping to TI, very atrociously I might add. But he raps with passion, and really, I have always been a supporter of all things done with passion.
Periodic trips upstairs to check if my suitemates are awake have proved more or less futile. Somehow in my sleep-deprived state, standing at the window peering in with a puppy-dog expression seemed like it might telepathically elicit some sort of response. Obviously not, as I'm still here, and nothing has changed.
Friday night was the last drinking episode ever of freshman year with H, K, and S. Andre Nickatina backing out of the concert last minute was a disappointment, but Mistah FAB was fun. I got trampled and lost a shoe, but I dared not to venture back into that mosh pit until the crowd had subsided. After one too many incidents with my never-healing big toenail, I wasn't about to take any more chances. That thing has been a sight to behold for about six months now, with virtually no signs of improvement.
I am never doing laundry on a drinking night again. It is far too much obligation to wake up to the combination of 1) bad breath and day-old makeup, 2) the unpleasant sight of alcoholic clutter littering the desk and floor, and 3) three loads of laundry to carry/de-wrinkle/fold. Saturday mornings were created only for happy things, like Belgium waffles and Facebooking in bed.
As of 9:14 AM I have lost all interest in my MMW3 notes, as fascinating as Bedouin nomadic pastoralists are. As always, Facebook came to the rescue and picked me up momentarily out of the fiery pits of boredom. The best Facebook group discoveries are most definitely discovered during all nighters, e.g. "Writing Papers Single Spaced First Makes My Double Spaced Result Climactic" and "I Want Detective Stabler to Specially Victimize Me with His Unit." I have never felt more strongly so early in the morning about such causes.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
