I want to smack you straight across the mouth, but not before I kiss it.
I want to push your arms away from mine, but not before they wrap around me.
I’m not broken, but you are.
I want to fix that.
It’s a terrible idea.
I know what I’m getting myself into.
But somehow I can’t stop it, like a tornado or my taxes.
Bad timing.
Bad timing.
Bad timing.
Things I’ve learned since college began:
Good skin and heavy sleep are impossible – that’s why naps and AcZone exist.
You don’t think you’ll meet people who come from absolutely horrible backgrounds, but in reality these people surround you. Don’t judge them – their battles might be tougher than yours to fight.
Forget about dressing nice for classes – it’s not gonna happen and it’s not worth it. Save your cute outfit for a dinner with friends or a party.
Speaking of parties, they’re a lot of fun when you’re sober. You can still act drunk; nobody can tell the difference (and nobody really cares).
Sometimes you will feel the need to cuddle with everyone around you. Just do it, they’re your friends and they probably want cuddles, too.
The cafeteria food isn’t that repulsive, just not always consistent.
Be nice to the food service workers. They are here to cook you food all day long – not even your mother does that.
If it says it’s going to rain, pack an umbrella. And if you don’t have rain boots, GO BUY SOME!
Have both big groups of friends, a small group of friends, and one really good on-campus friend. The big group will laugh at your stories, the small group will comfort you in times of need, and that one college bff will let you tell her absolutely anything and everything that’s on your mind.
Avoid cuties in the laundry room. Especially when you are washing your bras and undies.
Seriously, get a cuddle buddy.
Remember, it’s four years of your life you will NEVER get to relive. So stay awake for them, Sleepyhead. 😉
Despite completing nearly one-and-a-half semesters of college, I didn’t attend my first college party until very recently. Wow.
I knew the basics of what to expect; handsy guys, wobbly girls, an inescapable warmth of body heat, a beer-soaked dance floor. Yep, that all happened. I can’t believe I actually went. I can’t believe I actually liked it.
Dancing was great. This was a blacklight party so my seven or so girlfriends and I made sure we wore white and neon colors to “glow” on the dance floor. I wore a lacey white tank top, leggings, combats, and a neon printed headwrap (which glowed amazingly!) I didn’t mind dancing with randoms, sporting glow-in-the-dark body markers, and stealing a few kisses.
In all honesty, I don’t know why I was so hesitant to go out in the first place. I love dancing. Dancing on stage, in a club, with a guy, with my mom, I do it all and love it every single time. This time was no exception. Although I didn’t have much to drink, I had a fabulous time laughing while watching my friends make out with random guys while I continued to dance to the music. And the people who were attending the party were actually really kind and considerate (there were a few exceptions, one guy who lives in my dorm wildly waved his beer around, and it spilled all over my leggings).
I can’t wait to attend more parties with my friends. I can now call myself an official college girl.
All I can say is, party on, friends!
Expected 4-6 inches of snow. Hardly any snow, just pouring rain.
My umbrella broke at 7:30 this morning.
Ballet class was excruciatingly long and dreadful and hard and repetitive.
Can’t go home during Easter weekend because I have to help move props for a dance show the Saturday before.
Can’t tell if I want to be an RA or not. Can’t tell if it’s just to save my family money or because I actually want to take that responsibility.
Best friend got asked out on a date. I’m napping in my room avoiding everyone.
iPhone deleted all of its contacts.
I’m done and I am off to bed.
So toooomorrow, toooomorrow, finally, tomorrow, I’m headed back to col-lege! (Hope you put that to the tune of Little Orphan Annie’s song)
Yep, tomorrow’s the day. After a month and a half of chillin’ in my home state, it’s back to Maryland to study, dance, have movie nights, and eat good ol’ cafe food. I can easily say I’m ready to leave my home. All of my high school friends have returned to college weeks ago, leaving me with a few books, my Mac, and a lot of time to waste online. I do have a job, but I wasn’t scheduled too often once the New Year started. Basically, I’ve been gaining weight (and trying to prevent that by performing some – surprisingly exhausting – Pinterest workouts), watching movies, and reading all of my sister’s book suggestions. I recently read and watched both The Spectacular Now and Flowers in the Attic. The book versions of both stories were much better – obviously.
Anyway, this is besides my focus for this blog post.
Just sitting here tonight, I look around my bedroom with the little tv, the dance trophies, the warm and fuzzy blankets Mom won’t let me take to school, the seemingly endless collection of clothing, shoes, and jewelry, and all of my memorabilia and photos of years passed. Don’t get me wrong – I love college life – but there is something so incredibly lovely about waking up around nine thirty each morning in fleece pajamas, only to shuffle down the hall to the kitchen, eat a quick breakfast, and then snuggle into my sheets and blankets and indulge in the next four hours of TLC’s programming. Or deciding to concoct a smoothie with all of the spare fruits and yogurts scattering the fridge’s shelves. Or opening up the blinds, cranking up my laptop’s stereo, launching Spotify, and cleaning out my closet. No, my winter break was not filled with wild and crazy adventure, but it sure involved a lot of comfort, easiness, and happiness. I guess that’s what breaks are for, to recharge and relax.
I am so excited to see my friends, eat the cafe’s stir fry, and have unlimited freedom, but I am certainly going to miss my restful winter break. Guaranteed, in exactly a week and a half from now, I will be crawling into bed, exhausted from dancing, studying, homework, and socializing, only to face the exact same thing the following day, and the day after that, and so on and so forth.
But then I realize that yes, although college is stressful, my major isn’t exactly what I’d call “difficult,” plus I willingly admit that I love to be busy. I just hope this break hasn’t turned me into an unmotivated slug.
Well, as you can see, this post is on the verge of pointlessness, so I best head off to bed. Goodnight, y’all (I gotta start talking like a Marylander again).
No English final for me.
My English professor pulled me aside and said I did not have to take the final because she didn’t have to teach me anything this entire semester. Thank you, pushy high school teachers! And thank you, idiots in my class that make me sound unusually smarter!
It’s actually snowing here today! In an hour, we’ve probably accumulated an inch and a half already. Unfortunately, I am stuck inside writing a paper which is due tomorrow. On the brighter side, I can listen to old, sentimental Taylor Swift songs, drink hot cocoa, and rest comfortably in my owl pajamas and king size fuzzy blanket. Not too shabby for college life.
My campus is fairly large, it takes an approximate twenty to thirty minute walk to reach the other side. While that factor is just an opportunity to get some exercise, I find that I only know a fraction of kids who go here, nearly all of them girls.
Being a dance major is probably the easiest major in the entire universe. As you’d probably assume, we dance majors spend significantly more time in the studio than we do sitting in a classroom. We are with each other constantly. There’s only about 20 of us in the freshman class program. Don’t get me wrong, all (well most) of my fellow majors are extremely lovely girls. The problem is, I am confined to my dance friends, my dorm friends, and my club friends. Almost all girls. I know it’s only my first semester, but I’d be curious to know if I will find my future husband here. Seems pretty impossible at this rate – as the only access to guys I have are at parties (which I don’t even attend; my philosophy is that I can’t control myself around cookies so why should I expect myself to have self control around alcohol?). And everybody knows that party boys make pretty shitty husbands in the long run. So, hopefully I’ll find my “prince charming” at college, although I certainly have my doubts. Maybe I’ll meet him at Disney World one day, if I ever get a job there. That’s something to be hopeful for.
After I graduate, all these wonderful people I met will just become stale phone numbers in my address book and recipients of yearly Christmas cards.
Kind of sad, isn’t it?
littlerapunzel 