Just a Few More Weary Days
I know, I know, this is a recycled title, but I don't care, because a) that song is so AWESOME! and b) it's very apt.
Well, I know I've been remiss in my blogging, but I've been mostly focusing on scrambling around with my head cut off, freaking out about college. I've even branched out into freaking out about it on Youtube (forgive my shameless self-promotion: http://www.youtube.com/user/SabraMagdalena) and in my actual, hand-written journal!
So, in two days (well, actually, only one day- it's already Thursday!), on Friday the 21st, I'll be moving into Agnes Scott College's Winship Hall dormitory (which isn't showing up on the website, for some reason) with my classes beginning on Wednesday the 26th. I'm one of 244 girls slated to become the class of 2013. Ours, according to ASC's website will be the largest in five years- in fact, the fourth largest in the history of the school- and one of the most diverse as well. Go '13!
So I've been packing for the past week or so. I must admit that I am nowhere near where I need to be. I haven't decided what sort of objets d'art I would bring along, or anything like that. I've packed all my nice clothes away, and so am wearing crap around the house. However, the fact that I will actually be seen by people whose opinions I care about besides my mother and father will probably force me to dig something out from my massive suitcases. My uncle was kind enough to send me a $100 giftcard to Office Depot, and I've already taken advantage of at least a quarter of it. I do love office supplies! :)
So my next day before the storm promises to be a fairly quiet one. My mom and dad have planned the menus around me, so we've been having my favorite things for dinner- meatloaf, pork tacos, maybe Chicago pizza tomorrow... Man, who says being an only child doesn't pay? But the biggest part of tomorrow- my last day as a free woman, so to speak- will be paying a visit to my old high school.
One of my favorite parts of the beginning of the school year was seeing the Graduates come back for a little bit, to see how things were and what unspeakable torture they weren't having to undergo. It smarted a bit, to see them and know that they were going on to bigger and better things, but it was also very cool, a chance for us to show off and let them see how grown up we were, and to remember. And now that I'm taking part in this tradition, I feel things have come full circle a bit.
I already know who I'm going to visit and avoid. First, I've got to see my friends in orchestra. I just hope I don't cry. Then, I'll go visit my friends on the paper, set up a subscription, and hope they don't run it into the ground. (I know they won't, but I'll tease them anyway.) Finally, while deftly avoiding my Psych teacher, I'll pay a visit to my beloved history teacher, Darden. I really owe a lot to him; he was one of the first teachers to treat me like an adult and help me believe that a career in politics was possible for me. He saved me in my sophomore year when I just felt that my life was shit, and then he saved me again my senior year, when I interned for him. Seeing him teach, and how his kids responded, put the learning spark back in me. Yes, I really do owe him a lot- not to mention a box of mints...
But let me go now, before I descend into sentimentality. All my best to everyone.
Well, I know I've been remiss in my blogging, but I've been mostly focusing on scrambling around with my head cut off, freaking out about college. I've even branched out into freaking out about it on Youtube (forgive my shameless self-promotion: http://www.youtube.com/user/SabraMagdalena) and in my actual, hand-written journal!
So, in two days (well, actually, only one day- it's already Thursday!), on Friday the 21st, I'll be moving into Agnes Scott College's Winship Hall dormitory (which isn't showing up on the website, for some reason) with my classes beginning on Wednesday the 26th. I'm one of 244 girls slated to become the class of 2013. Ours, according to ASC's website will be the largest in five years- in fact, the fourth largest in the history of the school- and one of the most diverse as well. Go '13!
So I've been packing for the past week or so. I must admit that I am nowhere near where I need to be. I haven't decided what sort of objets d'art I would bring along, or anything like that. I've packed all my nice clothes away, and so am wearing crap around the house. However, the fact that I will actually be seen by people whose opinions I care about besides my mother and father will probably force me to dig something out from my massive suitcases. My uncle was kind enough to send me a $100 giftcard to Office Depot, and I've already taken advantage of at least a quarter of it. I do love office supplies! :)
So my next day before the storm promises to be a fairly quiet one. My mom and dad have planned the menus around me, so we've been having my favorite things for dinner- meatloaf, pork tacos, maybe Chicago pizza tomorrow... Man, who says being an only child doesn't pay? But the biggest part of tomorrow- my last day as a free woman, so to speak- will be paying a visit to my old high school.
One of my favorite parts of the beginning of the school year was seeing the Graduates come back for a little bit, to see how things were and what unspeakable torture they weren't having to undergo. It smarted a bit, to see them and know that they were going on to bigger and better things, but it was also very cool, a chance for us to show off and let them see how grown up we were, and to remember. And now that I'm taking part in this tradition, I feel things have come full circle a bit.
I already know who I'm going to visit and avoid. First, I've got to see my friends in orchestra. I just hope I don't cry. Then, I'll go visit my friends on the paper, set up a subscription, and hope they don't run it into the ground. (I know they won't, but I'll tease them anyway.) Finally, while deftly avoiding my Psych teacher, I'll pay a visit to my beloved history teacher, Darden. I really owe a lot to him; he was one of the first teachers to treat me like an adult and help me believe that a career in politics was possible for me. He saved me in my sophomore year when I just felt that my life was shit, and then he saved me again my senior year, when I interned for him. Seeing him teach, and how his kids responded, put the learning spark back in me. Yes, I really do owe him a lot- not to mention a box of mints...
But let me go now, before I descend into sentimentality. All my best to everyone.