(Study) Habits

Once again, I am thrown into the world of studying non-stop. So far, I have been proud of myself for staying so dedicated and generally getting my work done a couple days before it is due. That is the one nice thing about college academia; the professors give you the syllabus and it's up to you to organize and time manage, which I quite enjoy. During high school, I always felt like the teachers piled on everything during the same weeks and days and suddenly you're bombarded by homework. Hopefully I will be able to avoid that this year!

If I'm not outside (aka when it's over 90 degrees), I usually study in my room on my (small) bed or in the study room across the hall. I like to have all my necessary items spread out and in clear view...I think it makes for more organized and efficient studying.

Here is a picture of my workspace (not my desk, there's no way all that stuff would ever fit) :

So as you can see, I have my laptop, my planner, textbooks, binder, pencil pouch, water bottle, trail mix, and carrots for energy! 

This is what my computer screen typically looks like for a more in-depth look:

My homework and an empty document open for my work and, of course, One Direction! I know, I know! I jumped on the bandwagon! But, really, look at them! And if music makes you feel good and have fun, why not listen to it?! Anyway, One Direction wind over. But in all seriousness, I think music is such a good motivator when the time is right. Depending on what work I have, I like to listen to all kinds of music, from mellow tunes like Bon Iver to pop from the five lovely boys of One Direction! Also, I think that your computer background should inspire you or lift you up to a certain extent. Every time I open my computer and see Big Ben, I just stare for awhile and it gives me that extra little push to keep working. 

As you can probably tell, I am a little anxious to travel and a little homesick of somewhere I've never lived...this quote comes to mind:

I'm in love with cities I've never been to and people I've never met.

Week Two

Today began the second week of classes. The only class I'm particularly excited about is English (of course, right?). My professor encourages us to fight issues that are present in the writings we've read and be aware of the social standards that the authors include, which is exactly what I try to produce in my creative writing, so I hope I will enjoy looking at it in that context.

I have had some problems with classes that I may have to relay at a more appropriate time when I'm much less stressed and angry at the class--and professor--itself. There is one thing that I've learned from this ordeal and I will advise you right now. In college, no one goes out of their way to help you. I have gotten the run-around so many times and blamed for things that were not my fault that I've become so upset to the point where I want to just stop and yell at everyone. At this point, I have lost all hope that people want to help someone. C'est la vie. That's about as much detail as I can go into right now, but on to a much happier subject.

The few things getting me through these two weeks are my family, friends, and music. Without these, I would surely be more bored and lonely than I have ever been.

I speak to my family probably at least twice a day. I live vicariously through them and hearing how life continues so easily and normally without me makes me both happy and sad. I know it's selfish and ridiculous, but I am envious of their continued lives. Recently I've just wanted to travel and live out of country, become an expatriate, write, read, live, have fun. I think it's my older self speaking, but I honestly don't believe I will change much in the rest of my life. I am ready to start living, not waiting to be done with school and mundane jobs. I look at young people (the Olympics was the worst) and feel like I am capable of so much like they have accomplished at my age, but I haven't taken a flying leap to find out. Long story short, my family tries to understand me. I know sometimes they can't figure out my thought process but I am grateful for them trying and at least listening to my babbling everyday.

Just as close as family, my friends are honestly my saving grace. I am not sure if I could ever be friends with myself if I was placed in the same position. I am a typically private person (this blog takes a lot out of me), and sometimes don't communicate well or very frequently. Somehow, they all understand and just take it at face-value and not personally. And it honestly isn't anything personal. Sometimes I need to deal with issues alone and I like to be without my phone, or computer, or anything other than my mind and some time. Not that my life is in any way dramatic or that hectic, but it is not uncommon for me to (unintentionally) ignore my friends. I don't know if I would continue to stay friends with someone like me who makes getting close difficult, so thank you. You know who you are.

Lastly, I believe writing and music go hand-in-hand. There's almost no time where I'm not listening to music. Depending on my mood, my playlist varies from Indie Rock to Pop to Latino Rock. My music typically follows what's happening in my life. These first two weeks, the two songs that have been on repeat for me are "Rivers and Roads" by The Head and the Heart and "Pretty Girl at the Airport" by The Avett Brothers. They're kind of deep, but mellow and describe what I've been feeling: loneliness, missing friends, change, family, and all other feelings accompanying loneliness.

Many others are in disagreement about how college is going so far. Maybe my friends and I are so alike that we are the only ones with this problem, but we can't shake the sad feelings. I also have a theory that other college students experience this sadness later on in the year, but in the beginning revel in the freedom and distribute these feelings into bad habits, like partying and sleeping around.

There is one line in "Pretty Girl at the Airport" that I think accurately describes what I see in simpler terms that I will leave you with:

But everyone I know out here is lonely/Even those that have someone to lie beside at night.

First Days

By no means am I an emotional person. That's not to say that I don't possess the necessary emotional brain functions, but I often try as hard as I can to block my emotional responses from anyone else. In hindsight, it's always a bad idea. At the most inopportune moments, my emotions seem to rear their ugly heads and emerge as childlike temper tantrums.

Now, I had always looked forward to moving away and starting my own life. Although my family and I are extremely close, I was anxious to leave. I guess I had never really thought about the outcome.

The first night in my dorm room, I was thankful that my roommate was out. My family had just dropped me off, and they were staying in a hotel for the night. I had said goodbye to my best friend who would be two hours away in the city. Needless to say, I was upset.

The tears came easily, filling my eyes until they could hold no more. I couldn't even pinpoint exact reasons for my overwhelming emotions. My mind kept providing sad details until my tiny whimpers became heaving sobs and my attempts at distracting myself proved to be in vain. When I wiped the water away from under my eyes, it was only to make room for more. I tried to take deep breaths that turned into sad hiccups. My throat burned and then cooled as I finally gave in.

I was unprepared for this. For school, for life on my own. No particular thought guided my tears, but my inner self seemed to conjure up any reason to cry.

I like to think of myself as someone who quickly understands life lessons and consequences. Maybe it's paranoia to a certain extent, like my fear of any illegal act because I'm scared to get arrested and have all my dreams crash down in front of me. But I also think that this proves beneficial, I think, in situations. My parents have always called me an "old soul," and I'm not sure where or when it began, but I think my brain runs on a different feed than others'. It was at this moment as I was crying by myself that I saw the reason as to why I chose dorm life to begin with. I wanted to do this to learn how to live with others, to appreciate life at home and everything my parents have provided me.

I realized that life lesson the first night, something that should take a little longer to figure out. I thought to myself that the lesson was learned. I wanted to go home. My appreciation would be so much more. At this point, I remember thinking in my head what I would say to my parents when I saw them next.

I'm sorry for ever having been mad at you.

Dorm Sweet Dorm? Part 2

I could not believe my ears the first night I was in my dorm. Overwhelmed with emotion from moving away--that's a whole different post--, I tried to distract myself with arranging and rearranging my side of the room, which was difficult considering the size. After awhile, I could not take my aching back, the squeals of ditzy floor-mates, and the constant F-bombs being thrown around outside my door, and I collapsed on my bed, hoping for a good night's sleep.

As if my neighbor knew the exact moment I was going to sleep, the low bass on his stereo began to shake the walls next to my head. Grunting, I closed my eyes to try to sleep. It didn't come for a long time, my head making my eyes water at every thought and my ears seemed to search for any noise in the hallway, which it easily found.

The night wasn't quiet once I fell asleep. At various times throughout, I was awoken by strange noises, varying from my roommate coming in late, to drunk kids roaming the halls and pounding on their new neighbors' doors, to people speaking unnecessarily at the tops of their voices to the person walking alongside them. Everything seemed to echo in my mind, 'You're going to hate it, you're going to hate it.'

And so far, I have. I thought that once classes began, the noise would die down, but it seems the same kids who enjoy to go out and do these kinds of things still enjoy doing them on week days. If you really want to make friends in a dorm, I suggest pounding on doors at 2 AM. I know this because a TON of people want to be friends with me, it seems.

The whole situation is making everything kind of unbearable. Here's to a good night's sleep sometime this week...

Alexis

Dorm Sweet Dorm? Part 1

Early on in my college checklist, I chose my future living arrangement for the 2012 school year. Completely frustrated with scholarship rejections, the $10,000 plus cost I would be paying (that's without tuition at an in-state school), and the poor salary outlook for my chosen major--creative writing--I hastily looked at the nicest dorms and put those as my top.

Because I was so early in getting this done, I was awarded my top choice. I was momentarily gleeful at the prospect of suite-style rooms with bathrooms and the new renovations. As others received their dorm assignments, I told them about mine. Much to my chagrin, the response from my friends was heart-wrenching.

'Are you serious?!' I mistook her exclamation as envy, but was sadly shot down when her face twisted into a worried look, not even remotely near envy.

'What?!" I asked, the look reflecting on my own face as I became worried.

'Alexis, you know that's the party dorm, right?' she asked me.

I wanted to die. I was already reluctant in going to college at all given the above reasons (see paragraph one), and this made it ten times worse. By no means was I a partier. Heck, my friends called me 'Loner' because I'd rather stay at home and read than watch a bunch of people I went to high school with make fools of themselves and regret it the next day.

Now, I am not averse to drinking socially. The occasional beer sits fine with me...but I never understood why people feel the need to get so incredibly s**t-faced every weekend. People peeing in corners, making out (or more) with complete strangers, throwing up on each other, passing out at the end of the night; the idea seems disgusting and sad to me.

In high school, I was not comfortable watching people do that to themselves...so I simply avoided it. Now, in my assigned dorm, it was almost impossible to ignore it. I'm not quite sure what comes over people when they go to college. I'm pretty sure that these people could have gotten away with anything at home, so going ham in the dorms seems crazy.

Despite the warning from my friends (which they failed to tell me before I picked dorms), I decided to give my assignment a try.

College as a Bibliophile

As someone who has recently fallen completely in love with the idea of blogs and the ideas they can produce, the tips they provide, and the overall feeling of seeing someone else's life is just as crazy as your's, I am beginning this blog in the hopes that someone, even if just one person, finds this blog worthy of a read. I will attempt to recount my life at a university as an undergraduate.

Usually this would not be so surprising, as your parents and just about anyone else has told you the same things about college life. Well, I believe writing in the present is a better representation of the experience than hearing it from successful people in your life who look back longingly at the time when they felt free and empowered. I feel that in their success they have idolized the college experience and give a very narrow impression. That's not to say your parents or friends or relatives aren't right about their experience; I just hope to tell my story as a not-so-typical, book-loving adult who is just beginning her journey in an unfamiliar place, hoping that others find this blog as helpful as I do for myself by writing it.