Hit the Ground Running

So, I've been here for almost two weeks now, and I haven't yet found the time to catch my breath. With New Student Orientation and Welcome Week (which is constituted by a perpetual schedule of events) and my naive desire to do and be involved in everything, I never had the time to keep in touch with my west coast companions (other than to call my mother about away-from-home insurance care information) with much regret. My social life here at the University has indubitably blossomed, but not perfectly. I chain myself to the friends I made over my first five weeks at school, secluding myself from another group of people about the same size for a preorientation program I attended last week, much to the worry of the multitude of the group leaders.

Last week, my program contained a group of people exactly the opposite of my community scholars group. It was hard to connect. And I know it was my fault. It was a program oriented around community service, charity, working with underprivileged inner-city denizens. Not only was I insanely introspective about the business about charity, but I also was in relation to the demographics of the people that were in the program. It was difficult for me to deal with, not because I injured a toe on the first day or because the program's schedules ran from 7 to 12 am everyday and involved a lot of walking on said toe or because my leg was a buffet for mosquitoes (which I discovered I'm allergic to, resulting in blisters and scarring), because I saw--or prefabricated--an irony between the well-endowed, single-mindedly visionary group of young college freshmen and the homeless or low-incomed receiving charity. I couldn't help but feel frustrated at the fact that those kids would never be able to sympathize with these situations, at the impoverished for being in the state they're in, feel that a lot of the actions during this program have been forced and obligatory, unaltruistic. I feel that people fool themselves into community service or are conscious, at least to some degree, about the benefits of doing so; after all, isn't the beginning of college all about building a resume? And then I become furious at myself. For thinking this way, negatively. Causing unnecessary worry and attracting the unwanted, and contrived concerns of the group leaders. But aside from all of that, I guess the program gave me a better grasp of DC history and culture, gave me more connections to different areas and societies in the city, and exposure. I guess the concept of "reflections" conducted every night, which embraced the silence and eliminated responses to the sharing of opinions, struck me, but then I discovered that this is something done not only uniquely. I guess I can now call the 50-something people I met my "friends," but I really wish I felt otherwise about that week.

On the other hand, I have been becoming closer with my floormates, and we've come to the conclusion that only less than a floor-amount of college freshmen (less than 1% of freshmen are in my living-learning community) wanted to devote themselves to being substance-free. Sad. But my dorm is pretty nice, having our own bathroom and all. Although my room is probably the smallest on campus (because the 4-person room next door, which comes with a spiral staircase and a full-sized kitchen) takes away space from our room. Everyone else on this floor (which is the top floor of the building) has high ceilings, thus better ventilation, except for me and my roommate. But that's okay, because we have the cleanest, neatest, and most well-equipped room, unquestionably! I introduced plenty of my community friends to my floormates, and everything seems to be just peachy.

I wanted to start classes, to hit the ground running. Why not? I've been here longer than most of the people. I certainly was given the means to do so. And I fell, hard. Well, according to my standards at least. How so? I missed a class today. Thursdays are my busiest days with 5 classes. I was supposed to attend 4 classes, since one is a lab, but I only went to three. The last class completely went over my head. *waves hand over my head* Whoosh. I missed a general chemistry lab recitation. A weekly, 50-minute class on the first day. But I sure am lucky. The class was led by a T.A., and what more is there to do on the first day of a lab recitation other than to go over the syllabus? I considered sending a letter of apology to the teacher and the T.A. for missing the class, but what good would that do? With any luck, attendance wasn't taken, and everything I missed is on the syllabus. But it doesn't matter. Missing a class has shaken me incredibly. This is only the first week and has the potential to be the precedent for the future. I don't even have a job yet. Haven't joined any clubs or started activities yet--and I missed a day of class. Maybe I needed this. A lot of things have been going my way recently, and I needed something to keep me from rushing everything. Something to remind me of how carefully I must tread around everything. Actually, this event caused me to slam the brakes on the car of signing-up-for-everything I've been gleefully riding. The other day, I even signed up for theatre and dance! Me! hah. I think it's good that I feel the necessity to reign in my ambitions and impulses.

But it wasn't the absence. Honestly, I have a lot of homework to do without all the textbooks I need (reading, practice, essay due soon already), have to read all the syllabi, have to write my first article as a recently given role as a "health ambassador" in the school's social media, have to find a job for pocket money, have to buy lots of personal care items (which are cheapest online, so I feel increasingly guilty about the carbon footprint I'm leaving buy ordering so often online), and have to wrap my head around my schedule so I can avoid something like today happening again--all while trekking the endless hills and stairs of campus in blue jeans (because my mosquito bites are scarred, healed, blistered, and my skin would be prone to more bites). I recently have been feeling a drop in self-esteem because of all the gorgeous people and gorgeously-dressed people on campus, but when that happens, I just remember my pride in being an outlier, my nonchalance in my appearance, and my confidence in myself when I do dress myself and hold my head up high.

So here's to slowing things down, accomplishing my homework, finding a job, and finding a campus organization or group that I will be enjoyably spending a lot of time with...

My essentials: laptop, planner, water, and light. The flowing amount of college freebies (bags, water bottles, pens, etc.) cover the rest of my desk. Planner is crammed full of things to do and events for the next couple of weeks, and the clip-on desk lamp has nothing to clip onto, so it just lies there, and since my roommate has class tomorrow and is thus sleeping, I use the New Student Convocation booklet as a lampshade, which works unexpectedly well. And the Brita Filtrete water pitcher, courtesy of my roommate, is my lifesaver--I drink over a pitcher a day...