remember that time...?
So I just re-read all of my lj entries from senior year and the summer preceding it. A couple things are very clear:
First half of senior year did suck just as much as I remember it did.
Second half of senior year did rock just as much as I remember it did.
Summer 05 was, apparently, amazing...though I didn't remember it to be that out of the ordinary. And apparently summer 06 was alot less than amazing, as I barely recorded anything from it. correction: summer 06 was wonderful...but the camp aspect wasn't. I didn't think about it until now, but camp last year really wasn't as great as camp the year before. It took me a while to realize it, but it's true. Camp is beginning to decrease in fun, for me, at least. I think I'm finally ready to make this upcoming summer my last. That's a bigdeal for me for some reason. I could go on and on about that, about the bigdeal that leaving camp is for me, and, I'm assuming, for alot of people. But I won't. damnit.
It is true that whenever I go back and re-read these entries I will have the same reaction, no matter how old I was at the time of writing them: what a loser. According to this lj, I spent fall of my senior year under a rock, buried by work and college app's and roar. That was a different time. A difficult time. And I do miss it at times, but most of the time, I don't. Anymore.
I also realize I miss writing. Not this fake, let's try to write eloquently about my so-called "epiphanies" shit that is my livejournal. But editing and writing articles. The other day I realized that if I ever want to go to journalism school (which is still a possibility, despite my ridiculously unrelated majors), I'm going to have to get over myself and join the fucking Argus at Wes. I'm going to have to stop being afraid of walking to broadstreet at night, and also get over these damn journalistic principles that make me look down on what is now my college paper. I should accept it for what it is. I miss being able to write far more carefreely, confidently, and concisely than this, and I miss who I was when I wrote more often.
Moreover, I miss who I was in high school. I miss "running through the halls of my high school," or whatever. I miss people being shocked by my antics because I'm so "innocent."
But, I love who I am in college. I love skipping across the lovely Wesleyan campus. I love people not being shocked in the slightest bit when they see me do things that my high school friends will later freak out about upon hearing the full story on the phone.
A year ago, on this very night (i.e. christmas eve), I was applying to college. Now, I go to one. I go to Wesleyan University. I go to Wesleyan. I go to Wes. I go to a University. I go to a liberal arts college. I take college classes that have names like "ECON 101" and "Introduction to Early African-American Studies." I walk through a quad everyday. I go to the dining halls for meals. I party on weekends. I go to late night. I use points (but mostly meals, damn freshman meal plans). I have friends from other states (and countries). I live in a dorm. I have a roommate. I have hallmates. I have another life, in another place, with other people.
I guess I do love college. In spite of all the things I miss here, I finally love school.
First half of senior year did suck just as much as I remember it did.
Second half of senior year did rock just as much as I remember it did.
Summer 05 was, apparently, amazing...though I didn't remember it to be that out of the ordinary. And apparently summer 06 was alot less than amazing, as I barely recorded anything from it. correction: summer 06 was wonderful...but the camp aspect wasn't. I didn't think about it until now, but camp last year really wasn't as great as camp the year before. It took me a while to realize it, but it's true. Camp is beginning to decrease in fun, for me, at least. I think I'm finally ready to make this upcoming summer my last. That's a bigdeal for me for some reason. I could go on and on about that, about the bigdeal that leaving camp is for me, and, I'm assuming, for alot of people. But I won't. damnit.
It is true that whenever I go back and re-read these entries I will have the same reaction, no matter how old I was at the time of writing them: what a loser. According to this lj, I spent fall of my senior year under a rock, buried by work and college app's and roar. That was a different time. A difficult time. And I do miss it at times, but most of the time, I don't. Anymore.
I also realize I miss writing. Not this fake, let's try to write eloquently about my so-called "epiphanies" shit that is my livejournal. But editing and writing articles. The other day I realized that if I ever want to go to journalism school (which is still a possibility, despite my ridiculously unrelated majors), I'm going to have to get over myself and join the fucking Argus at Wes. I'm going to have to stop being afraid of walking to broadstreet at night, and also get over these damn journalistic principles that make me look down on what is now my college paper. I should accept it for what it is. I miss being able to write far more carefreely, confidently, and concisely than this, and I miss who I was when I wrote more often.
Moreover, I miss who I was in high school. I miss "running through the halls of my high school," or whatever. I miss people being shocked by my antics because I'm so "innocent."
But, I love who I am in college. I love skipping across the lovely Wesleyan campus. I love people not being shocked in the slightest bit when they see me do things that my high school friends will later freak out about upon hearing the full story on the phone.
A year ago, on this very night (i.e. christmas eve), I was applying to college. Now, I go to one. I go to Wesleyan University. I go to Wesleyan. I go to Wes. I go to a University. I go to a liberal arts college. I take college classes that have names like "ECON 101" and "Introduction to Early African-American Studies." I walk through a quad everyday. I go to the dining halls for meals. I party on weekends. I go to late night. I use points (but mostly meals, damn freshman meal plans). I have friends from other states (and countries). I live in a dorm. I have a roommate. I have hallmates. I have another life, in another place, with other people.
I guess I do love college. In spite of all the things I miss here, I finally love school.