Going into college I was told it would be the time of my life, the best years I would ever have, live it up because it is the last time I get to be a 'kid'. Although all of these are true, they also forgot to mention that it will be the most stressful time of my life.
Since being here I have successfully or unsuccessfully, depending on how you look at it, failed my third exam since being here. I am in the process of dropping my second class, and I want to cry every time I come to my dorm and look at all the homework that I have to do. Granted I'm not the best at time management, but mathematically I often wonder where our professors think we can find the time we need to adequately study for all of our classes, sleep, eat, and have a slight semblance of a social life.
When I got my grade for my last test back I wanted to cry. I have tried so hard on all of these and my work has yet to show off. And to top it all off, I am an easily discouraged person and this isn't helping to make me want to try harder.
This whole college thing is kind of starting to get hard. Its not the balancing thing it an emotional thing, if that makes sense. There are times that I just want to have my best friends with me so that I can hug them. I just want to talk to me best friend and cry. This is all just starting to get to me. There are times that I don't think I can handle it all. I just want some familiarity in my life and right now it is really hard to get.
Friday, October 31, 2008
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
With Space comes great disagreements
Going in to college I was really excited to room in a quad. I figured that I would make three new friends and have a lot of extra space that I otherwise wouldn't have had. The downfall to this amazing plan was...personalities.
I figured that going into college everyone would be studying hard and partying harder...but not my roommates. I have one roommate that I get along with the best, she studies yet she likes to go out and have an equally enjoyable time...not my other two roommates. One constantly comments on how the other has no friends...yet she, herself, has only her one friend, that she went to highschool with. These two roommates are constantly in our room. One is either napping or the other is watching the tv at a ridiculously high decibel.
*side note* My friends would constantly joke that I have asian ears. Basically me and my mom would sit in our living room watching tv with the volume down and when people come in they never know what we are laughing about because the tv would be down so low.
Back to the story. I have two friendless roommates that have no social life.
The reason why I am saying this is because of a blowout that me and one of my roommates had yesterday. I had a friend over studying and I had the music on my alarm clock down really low. Basically if two people were talking you couldn't hear the music. My roommate walks into the room and starts talking to one of my other roommates. I am totally fine with this because it is there room too. But then she starts talking about how she has to watch this one show at three and she can't miss it and then she just started to get really obnoxious. Finally I told her to grow up and that she should study instead of complaining about failing classes.
All I am asking for are you to be courteous when others are trying to study. There are times that I come into the room and everyone is studying and all I want to do is watch tv, so what do I do? I go under my bed and watch a movie on my computer. I occupy myself quietly so I don't disturb others.
I figured that going into college everyone would be studying hard and partying harder...but not my roommates. I have one roommate that I get along with the best, she studies yet she likes to go out and have an equally enjoyable time...not my other two roommates. One constantly comments on how the other has no friends...yet she, herself, has only her one friend, that she went to highschool with. These two roommates are constantly in our room. One is either napping or the other is watching the tv at a ridiculously high decibel.
*side note* My friends would constantly joke that I have asian ears. Basically me and my mom would sit in our living room watching tv with the volume down and when people come in they never know what we are laughing about because the tv would be down so low.
Back to the story. I have two friendless roommates that have no social life.
The reason why I am saying this is because of a blowout that me and one of my roommates had yesterday. I had a friend over studying and I had the music on my alarm clock down really low. Basically if two people were talking you couldn't hear the music. My roommate walks into the room and starts talking to one of my other roommates. I am totally fine with this because it is there room too. But then she starts talking about how she has to watch this one show at three and she can't miss it and then she just started to get really obnoxious. Finally I told her to grow up and that she should study instead of complaining about failing classes.
All I am asking for are you to be courteous when others are trying to study. There are times that I come into the room and everyone is studying and all I want to do is watch tv, so what do I do? I go under my bed and watch a movie on my computer. I occupy myself quietly so I don't disturb others.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
The Begining
After being in college for a couple of months I realized that I had too many emotions to "journal" about and I was no good at "vlogging" so I decided to try my hand at blogging, instead. My best friend started her blog about a month ago and I have realized that I constantly am checking to see if she has written anything new. I think that her blog has helped me to realize that although we are going to different colleges we will always be the same person, essentially. Yes, she is changing, and I am too, but at the core we will always react the same way to things that we have in the past.
This past week was fall break and it was amazing to have time off. I really needed it. Since moving here I have had so many emotions running through me that it is mentally draining. I often times catch myself wondering about my dad. I often think to myself, what would he say if he could see me now? Would he be proud? There is really never a day that goes by when someone congratulates me on making the marching band which is shortly followed by "your dad would be so proud of you right now". But I often wonder, would he? If he were alive would I have gone to a different college? Would I have struggled so much emotionally senior year that I would have decided to go somewhere else? If he hadn't been so sick would we have visited more colleges than the four? Would he have encouraged me to apply to more than just my one "dream school"? These questions always run through my head and they always seem endless. If my questions about my dad's proud-ness would subside I often question my brother, would he be okay? Would he be overly handicapped? Would he be able to walk? Would we get along? Would my family dynamics be different? Would I be able to go to the college I am going to if he were still alive?
My mind is almost a bottemless pit of worry, worry of what could have happened, what did happen, what is happening, and what is going to happen. I try to push them aside and live for the moment, but there are times that I want to sit and try and answer these questions and almost wallow in self pity of things that could have been or should have been.
I guess that at the core of all these questions is just my one wish. For my dad to be here now. I wanted him so badly to see me march at state for the last time my senior year. I wanted him to watch me walk at commencement. I wanted him to be there at my graduation party making people laugh, talking with old friends, and smiling with pride for what I have become. I wanted my dad to be there when I got my acceptance letter to college. To be there when I moved in to my dorm. I wanted him to be here, not there, for when I called and told him that I made it into the Notre Dame marching band. I wanted to be able to tell him that I would be able to, in a way, fufill his dream of having a child go to Notre Dame. I would be one of the select few to get to go out that tunnel on game day and have people scream for me.
Not that these thoughts had ever totally disappated from my mind, but now that I am essentially on my own I think about them more and they seem to take up more of my time.
This past week was fall break and it was amazing to have time off. I really needed it. Since moving here I have had so many emotions running through me that it is mentally draining. I often times catch myself wondering about my dad. I often think to myself, what would he say if he could see me now? Would he be proud? There is really never a day that goes by when someone congratulates me on making the marching band which is shortly followed by "your dad would be so proud of you right now". But I often wonder, would he? If he were alive would I have gone to a different college? Would I have struggled so much emotionally senior year that I would have decided to go somewhere else? If he hadn't been so sick would we have visited more colleges than the four? Would he have encouraged me to apply to more than just my one "dream school"? These questions always run through my head and they always seem endless. If my questions about my dad's proud-ness would subside I often question my brother, would he be okay? Would he be overly handicapped? Would he be able to walk? Would we get along? Would my family dynamics be different? Would I be able to go to the college I am going to if he were still alive?
My mind is almost a bottemless pit of worry, worry of what could have happened, what did happen, what is happening, and what is going to happen. I try to push them aside and live for the moment, but there are times that I want to sit and try and answer these questions and almost wallow in self pity of things that could have been or should have been.
I guess that at the core of all these questions is just my one wish. For my dad to be here now. I wanted him so badly to see me march at state for the last time my senior year. I wanted him to watch me walk at commencement. I wanted him to be there at my graduation party making people laugh, talking with old friends, and smiling with pride for what I have become. I wanted my dad to be there when I got my acceptance letter to college. To be there when I moved in to my dorm. I wanted him to be here, not there, for when I called and told him that I made it into the Notre Dame marching band. I wanted to be able to tell him that I would be able to, in a way, fufill his dream of having a child go to Notre Dame. I would be one of the select few to get to go out that tunnel on game day and have people scream for me.
Not that these thoughts had ever totally disappated from my mind, but now that I am essentially on my own I think about them more and they seem to take up more of my time.
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