My first week

I've been at school for a week now. It has been ok, I've been homesick and bored and overwhelmed, but I've also had fun. I like most of my classes. I like my living situation, and even suggested the three of us do something all together like a living unit getting lost in space. I have some weekend plans, there's a foam party tonight that I'm going to. (What do you wear to a foam party?) I'm trying. I want this to work out. I figure if I make it through this weekend I'll be fine. There are things I miss about home of course, but I don't want to go home. Except maybe to do some laundry and have some decent juice.

I'm online!

I apologize to LCA for accusing her of being involved in the disappearing paper scandal of 2007. I was totally out of line and I jumped to a stupid conclusion.
This laptop is amazing. I am in love with it. I could easily see myself being late for psych I am so thrilled to have a computer. At the same time, I know I have to be on time, so I'll cut this short.

Adirondack Adventure Paper

I have now written this paper twice. I wrote it at home and almost all of it was deleted (maybe people shouldn't close windows that I leave open LCA). I wrote it on a school computer and it was deleted. The third time had better stick or I'll just take a zero. I killed two hours today writing this stupid thing only to have it disappear, I don't have time to write and rewrite. My professor was telling us today that people tend to put papers off until they get a mythological five free hours. I don't have five free hours. I could make time to write it in different sittings if I had a computer that would save my work, but I don't. This means my paper is going to be written Thursday night and mailed Friday morning, the last possible day it can be mailed. You could say I was procrastinating, but even though this is true, it has been a team effort to make this a frustrating, infuriating ordeal with the end result of a crappy paper. I would like to thank all the little people who put off ordering my computer until two days before I moved in, and who closed documents that don't belong to them. I couldn't have gotten where I am without you.

Rugby

I've been playing rugby for the past three years, but suddenly, now that I'm faced with College Level Rugby I'm beginning to doubt myself. Practice last night was amazing, we ran drills, we practiced ball handling, it was fun. The captain seems great, all of the girls seem great. My only problem is the coach seems to think I'm too small to be a forward. I told him I play second row and he put his hand on my head and sort of laughed. I'm not that short! I can't be a back. There's nothing wrong with backs, lots of my friends are backs, but I'm a forward. Clearly this means I just have to work harder and dazzle him with my wicked mauling skills. Second row might not be in the cards, but I could hook maybe. Lee (the captain) says anyone can play flanker, so maybe I'll get to play there, but I definitely have a lot of training ahead of me.

Convocation

Last night was convocation. We had had our "Into the Wild" book discussions earlier in the evening and I had been pleased about my group. It wasn't our orientation groups the way I thought it was going to be, it was a random mix. I knew a couple of people however, there were a couple of girls from orientation, and a boy from City Honors. No one especially wanted to talk about them book, and that aspect of the conversation broke down pretty quickly. It was a nice way to kill some time though, and I learned a little about the people in my group.
The lawn was a mob scene after we were let out. The entire freshman class was there, as well as some family members and upperclassmen. I found a seat between CWB's friend Grace and a boy that I knew from a CEPA photography workshop. As I waited for the program to start I turned in my seat, looking back into the crowd. I was surprised at how many familiar faces I saw. There were people from the book group, there was a cluster of CHS alum, I saw camp friends, and Adirondack Adventure people. It was amazing. Looking out at the lawn Geneseo seemed huge, but looking back at my classmates it seemed just right. The procession started, and the professors filed in wearing all of their academic regalia, and I knew that this could be home.

Getting Started

I haven't shared a bedroom for about five years. There have been vacations where EGA has slept in my room, and I have had friends sleep over every now and then, but for the most part my bedroom has been my private space since EGA went to college and LCA moved into her old room. Getting a triple has been quite a shock. I've lived with strangers before, at camp and in SCA, but that always felt ephemeral, those living situations all had pretty short shelf-lives. Dorming is different. I could tell myself that it won't last forever, but a year is a long time to sit grinding your teeth because a roommate is clipping her nails on the rug. (Not that my roommates have done that.) I know I'm not easy to live with, I can be messy, I think I might snore, and I shouldn't be trusted to cut people's hair, even though I love to. This past summer, tenting with Basia, I constantly marvelled at her patience with me and my quirks. I hoped my roommates would be equally patient, but learning from my mistakes, I decided to confirm that they had already finished Harry Potter and not offer to trim their bangs, just in case they aren't similarly saint-like and attempt to smother me after I inevitably slip up.
Basia was easy to live with, but I felt confident that I would be able to be patient with my roommates, or at the very least, internalize my rage. I've lived in tents with girls for weeks on end without any horrible issues. There have been flare ups, flip flops have been peed on, but nothing so terrible that I don't think back on them now without smiling. I trust people to be good deep down. I have an open mind in that I don't believe my roommates are actively evil. (Their accents on the other hand, are proof that there is something terribly wrong with the world, especially as they are starting to rub off on me.) It seems like you can be friends with anyone, and living in a tiny space does bring people together. Basia and I would always shower at the same time when we went to Camp Dodge. We would talk and unwind and steal whatever toiletries were left in the shower house. There was a jar or Bert's Bees lemon and poppy seed facewash that we especially loved. There were times in the woods that we would just sit and talk about how nice it was, and how we couldn't wait until we got to use it again. I bought it for college. It smells great, it's really refreshing, and it reminds me of Basia and how nice it was living with her. I use it in the morning as a reminder of how patient and kind she is, and how I should be just as tolerant of my roommates as she was of me. Every morning after I wash my face I put my living situation into perspective. It doesn't matter if people leave their jeans on my bed, they aren't hurting anything by investigating my perfumes and body sprays, and most college students do go out to frat parties, so I shouldn't care if they keep later hours than me. I'm lemony-fresh, and totally willing to accept them as they are. Now I hope they are as forgiving of my early bedtime, giant jade tree and fondness for Thistle and Shamrock.