Here We Go
Okay, so I came back to school on Tuesday. I spent most of Monday packing and mourning my separation from the new couch in our family room, but at least it has my assprint in it to remember me by. I was a little sketched about going to back to school because I was worried about classes and about my roommate.
As far as classes go, Wagner has the first year plan during the first semester of freshmen year, and this allows the same thirty students to have two classes together and a college writing course with half of them. It really is a good idea, because I know all thirty people really well and run into them in all of my classes this semester. However, I was (and really, still am) worried that they dumb down the first year program a little bit to accommodate the abilities of the incoming freshmen, so now, integrated into regular classes, we’re still not up to the college standard.
As far as my roommate went, I was a little worried because I wasn’t thrilled living with her altogether last semester, even though she’s nice, so I already wasn’t looking forward to unpacking in room 606. But then, the day before we left for Winter Break, we got into a fight over a friend of mine and long story short, I was worried that it was going to be uncomfortable living with her. So far, it pretty much has been, so I decided to give her some space. I’ve been spending most of my time in the library or in my friend Amanda’s room, but I’m slowly weaning myself back into the room. It sucks, because I need to have a place to center myself and relax in, and my inner peace is thrown off because I’m not comfortable in my room. I feel like the town loner, with all of the things I’ll need that day in a suspicious bag. It’s getting better bit-by-bit, but it still bounces between being mostly comfortable and not comfortable at all.
My classes this semester have been pretty good so far.
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My first lit class is poetry, which I’m really not very good at, and, of course, it’s e.e. cummings, so I barely even understand what it’s saying, let alone what it means. My professor is this really cute old man with shaky hands and sweaters, though, so it’s a nice class. -
My second lit is Post Colonial Literature, and I had to buy nine books for it. I’m interested in the course outline and the first book, A Small Place by Jamaica Kincaid, is good, but I’m worried about the workload - it’s a 343 class, so I hope my freshmen ass can keep up. -
My Revolutionary America class is going to be a ton of work. It’s three hours long and the professor needs us to read a ton of stuff and already wants us to pick the topic for our 20-page research paper (11 pt font!) that’s due in April. I really love American History though, and this is my favorite time period, so I’m hoping that I’ll have an easier time with it because I’m interested in the subject. The professor is also awesome - he’s a fun old guy who has an opinion about everything we study and says that most books about it are “readable” or “intelligent, with some good points”, and encourages us to argue with him. -
My Italian is… eh, it’s okay. I didn’t do too well in French in high school, but I’ve always wanted to speak Italian. I hope that I do well, because I’ve always wanted to speak a few languages. Supposedly once you learn one langugage, especially a Romance language, it’s easier to learn others. -
Math… oy. I haven’t done any math in almost two years, and even then I was terrible. I mean, I know people say that they’re terrible with math, but I actually don’t understand it. I need the instructions, step by step, laid out for me or I can’t do it. At all. I couldn’t even remember what 4 x 9 was. My mom put a really cute “math survival guide” package in my suitcase, and it has a really big eraser, chocolate kisses, and addition and multiplication flashcards in it. I thought it was funny at the time, but now I’m thinking that I need the flashcards after all. The class itself is set up really great - the professor puts the problem on the board, gives you a few minutes to solve it yourself, then shows you how it’s done. Then he gives you another and let’s you try it for yourself, and he walks around the room to see if you understand what’s going on. Then he puts the real answer on the board. This is great for me, because I can see what I did and what you’re really supposed to do, so I can see where I make my mistakes. The professor is also really understanding with students who don’t understand the material - he said that a lot of the students who take his class (probably a lot of upperclassmen who need it to graduate) haven’t taken math in three or four years, so he leaves a half hour at the end of each class for people who don’t understand to stay behind and get help with the problem. This would all be incredible, and kind of is, if it weren’t for one small thing… the professor speaks English with an incredibly thick (I think Indian) accent. I only understood one in four words he said. Let’s just hope the math speaks for itself.
Sorority rush week is February 6th through the 10th, and bid day is the 11th. I’m really excited about it!
So far, I’ve kind of been in a rut here. I’m a little homesick - not enough to be a big problem, but enough that it’s kind of in the back of my mind a lot - and this whole thing with my roommate and the pressure of these difficult classes and the enormous workload are getting to me. I’m hoping that once things pick up and we get into the semester (and hopefully I get into a sorority).
Tonight my friends and I are planning on just drinking and relaxing. Normally drinking wouldn’t be a relaxing thing to me - I always kind of mentally associate it with peer pressure, plus trying to ignore the voice in my head (usually my mother’s) saying it’s not a good thing to do - and I’ve never actually been drunk before. So this should be fun - I trust my friends, and one of them doesn’t drink, so she’s going to keep an eye on us, me especially - I have no idea how I’ll behave, and she’s taking my phone away and now allowing me to come down to my room if I seem like I’m having a bad time with it. I just keep telling myself to loosen up because being drunk (not falling down drunk, I don’t think) isn’t a big deal and everyone does it, and hell, it’s legal. Hahaha - I just can’t seem to be normal some days.
Well, there’s not much else to say. Jem, I’m still working on your presents - I haven’t had much opportunity to go shopping yet, but we should be going into the city next week because I have to go to the New York Historical Society and I’ll be able to get some done then. I also suck - I haven’t started your letter journal yet. I wanted to wait until I got here to school, but I’ve been pretty miserable, so I didn’t want to flood you with all that crap. I’m going to wait until things are a little better before I start. I hope you don’t mind!
xoxoxox