There is absolutely nothing to do on Halloween when you’re a college student. Let’s face it: you know you’re really too old for trick-or-treating when there’s no where to trick-or-treat. I guess I could have goneKatie, Jordan, Katelyn to a frat party, but they’d lost all their I’m-in-college-and-mom-has-no-clue-where-I-am glamour by the time October rolled around. So, to keep myself entertained, I planned a costume party for all of my friends/friends’ friends. I’ve got to admit, it turned out pretty great: my friend Jessica and I decorated the lounge in the base of Poteat, baked brownies, lugged my stereo downstairs, and hit up the Walmart Roll-back savings on The Shining. Well, of course I had a blast (dancing, or, in my case, attempting to dance, is my absolute favorite thing to do), and it seemed like other people had a pretty good time too.

Four hours after I crawled into bed the morning after Halloween, my alarm Tree Climbing!clock jarred me awake for a Saturday with Camp Spearhead. Furman has a really cool volunteer program called Heller Service Corps, which offers a bunch of different activities you can get involved in, such as tutoring, helping out at a women’s shelter, Habitat for Humanity, a bunch of stuff I don’t even know about, and, in my case, Camp Spearhead. I don’t really know exactly how I got into the Camp Spearhead thing, but I’m lucky that I did. Almost every Saturday, a bunch college student volunteers (sometimes including me) takes busload of special needs kids to participate in an activity that they ordinarily wouldn’t get a chance to experience- a football game, horseback riding, a Halloween party, apple picking, etc. I was a little surprised that I was able to deal with some of the situations I’ve been thrown into, but at the same time, Camp Spearhead has been one of the most rewarding volunteer experiences I’ve ever participated in. People say stuff all the time, but I sincerely mean it, although I won’t write a college-application-style essay on how much it’s impacted my life... but trust me, it’s cool. Anyway, this particular weekend we ate a pancake breakfast and then went to downtown Greenville to look for the Mice on Main. It’s a long story about how they got there, but if you’re really observant when you’re walking down Main Street, there are about ten mice statues about three inches high hidden in various locations. If you go online or walk into one of the local businesses, they’ll give you clues about where they’re hidden. I think everybody had a really good time – these people don’t seem to get out all that much, and, for them, spotting a mouse was something akin to finding the Tooth Fairy. Ever since that Saturday morning after Halloween, every time I walk down Main Street, I look for those mice and remind myself to appreciate the simple things; after all, for most of us, it takes a lot to make us happy.

My family came to visit me last week. It was so great to see them, especially because my little sister Cargo of Dreamshadn’t seen my dorm room yet. They arrived at a very opportune time, since I’d just finished working on the Cargo of Dreams (see post below) and had just been operating an ELECTRIC SAW (Dad was overwhelmed with this news and required proof from my witnesses/fellow construction workers). We all went to Mellow Mushroom for lunch and then to Spill the Beans (for my third time that week), and then just wandered into the shops along Main Street. I love school, but I’m excited about Thanksgiving and am hoping that Dad will forget the turkey and go for steak again this year (hint, hint).

Last week I went to heaven.

I’ll tell you exactly where it’s located: all you have to do is follow the bike trail that runs behind the lake until you get to a little coffee shop in Traveler’s Rest. The outside of Leopard Forest Café looks like a tattoo parlor, but step inside and you’ll think you’ve walked right into Africa. There’s a mountain of burlap sacks filled with coffee beans in the corner, a gigantic coffee brewing machine hidden in this little back room, and pictures of Africa covering the walls. They have the best vanilla chais, and coffee’s only $.74 if you bring your own travel mug.

Ella’s birthday was last week, so on Friday I got our best girl friends together in Daniel Lounge, the commons area on the base of Poteat. We watched Ella’s favorite episodes of Gilmore Girls and ate Chinese food and cookie dough out of the tub. Then on Saturday morning, Morgan, one of my good friends from back home, came to visit for Fall for Furman. I was so glad to see her and had a blast showing her around campus and going to the football game with her and her mom. It was a good thing I caught up with them, because their tour guide didn’t do Furman justice, having skipped the coolest parts of campus. Oh, and trust me: the DH food at Fall for Furman is almost exactly the same as it is every day of the week.

I’ve been looking forward to writing this next part since Saturday morning, although I’ve made myself stay away from the computer until my Spanish test was over. I’m really good at procrastinating, especially if there’s a computer in front of me, but then when I finally got a chance to write, my internet crashed and my computer spent a day and a half getting fixed at the Help Desk in the library.

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I’m in this group called Africa Rising, and we’re working on this project called Cargo of Dreams, in which we’re turning a C-train (a ginormous box that rides on the back of an 18-wheeler) into a schoolhouse to ship to Africa. It’s going to have a bathroom (with plumbing), a kitchen, and a classroom (with supplies and equipment). Two other organizations from other parts of the nation are working on similar projects so that the cars can be connected when they’re over in Africa.

When I came out to help put up the framework on Saturday morning, I was a little afraid I’d be more of a hindrance than a help. Well, that was probably the case, but luckily Drew, the guy in charge of building, was extra patient and took the time to show me how to use a hammer without crushing my thumb. It took me twenty minutes to whack my first nail into the plywood, but by late that afternoon I was hammering upside down and sideways. I took a picture of my Victory Nail – I’ll be sure to post it as soon as it goes up on facebook, because I doubt anyone back home would believe that someone in their right mind would let me within ten feet of a hammer.

Good luck with college apps, and have a fabulous weekend!!

First off, I’d like to say that homecoming is among my top three favorite things about American culture (the other two consist of Trick-or-treating and Starbucks). I learned in my Spanish class the other day that we are the only country which hosts big parties for anyone who happened to attend/has friends or relatives who attended said college. Here at Furman, football is only a minor activity (at least from my perspective) in the grand scheme of the Great Homecoming Tradition. The most important event (well, for the freshmen, at least) is undoubtedly THE HOMECOMING DANCE.

Now, I’ve never been one of those girls who lives for “functions.” In high school, I was pretty much anti-prom, and I only went to support the people who spent so much time putting it on. I HATE dress shopping, I HATE fake-smiling for pictures, I HATE having to worry about whether I’ll ever find a date. From my point of view anyway, the homecoming dance, unlike prom, was just plain FUN.

Last week after going out to dinner for my friend Jenna’s birthday, I came back to my room to find a rose on Alexander Muscle Man Hinckley  my desk. Under it was a note which said, “Roses are red, violets are blue, nothing would make me happier than going to homecoming with you. If your answer is yes, come to room 304.” Well, I went to room 304. It was Alexander, one of my best guy friends who I went with to an Of Montreal concert in Asheville last week.

Anyway, I thought that was so cute that I just had to include it for public viewing, which, speaking of, I’m SO GLAD that people actually read this thing. Brooke, I really hope I get to meet you soon. Write me a comment if you’re coming to visit sometime, and we’ll meet up.

Okay. So. The dance. A bunch of my friends and their dates met up before dinner to take pictures outside. I grinned and bore it, even though it took FOREVER. Dinner was worth it, though, because we went to Smoke on the Water, which is one of my favorite downtown restaurants. They have AMAZING corn bread there and I love their BBQ-ed pork and ribs, although I just got soup and a salad because I’m not exactly a dainty eater. Then, of course, we went to the dance, where I popped, locked, and dropped it like it’s hot. Just kidding. I’m actually a really bad dancer, but I have a great time trying, even if people laugh at me. Oh, and for people like me who usually have trouble scrounging up a date in general, much less a date for a specific date, I’d say about half of the people there had gone with a big group of friends.

Well, now that the dance part is out of the way, I can tell you about the homecoming carnival. Apparently this isn’t that big a deal if you went to a big high school, but, for me (as much as I love my high school, we don’t even have a football team), it was pretty darn awesome. Because I’m part of Engaged Living, we participated in skit, cheer, sidewalk art, banner, and float competitions with the sororities and fraternities. I must admit that I was a slacker when it came to helping out with all that, but I did watch the skits and ended up getting a free water bottle out of the deal. For the carnival on Friday night, they had a huge bonfire in front of the library and provided marshmallows and chocolate for smores. On the mall (meaning a big grassy area in front of Furman Hall, not a shopping center) there was a Farris Wheel, one of those pirate boat rides, the tea cup rides, a huge inflatable obstacle course, free BBQ and funnel cakes, and then “breakfast” on the Katelyn on Inflatable Slidequad starting at 11 pm People worked on the floats until midnight, but I ended up playing hide-and-go seek for awhile, rolling down a hill leading to the empty soccer field, eating BBQ, and topping it all off with some late-night Monty Python and the Holy Grail.

Then, on Sunday, Ella and I went to downtown Greenville to study. Fall for Greenville was going on, so there were all kinds of tents lining Mainstreet with food, crafty stuff, local artists, inflatable slides for kids, and guitarists. We spent pretty much the entire day at Port City Java and Coffee Underground (we’re trying out all the local coffee shops to find the best in town) studying for our philosophy midterm, but we did wander into this really cool vintage shop and of course I couldn’t pass by the Mass General Store without stopping by.

Ahhhh… such a great weekend.

Too bad I have a huge psychology test on Wednesday.

Plus a philosophy exam on Thursday.

And I’m way behind on my seminar reading.

But before I get started on that, I have to tell you about Fall Break.

I was pretty self-sufficient in high school. I coached swim team and lifeguarded every summer, so I’ve always paid for my own clothes and weekend activities and that sort of thing. My parents didn’t really care about my grades, as long I was trying my best. They never really had much of a say in the courses I took, the activities I participated in, the friends I made, or what time I went to bed. I tell you all of that, but if I ever needed anything, all I had to say was “Dad, come get this spider out of my room,” or “Dad, will you help me with my chemistry homework,” or “Dad, can you fix my computer,” or “Dad, I’m having problems with my friends and I don’t know what to do.” He’d always help me out, no thanks needed, a shoulder always available to cry on. Mom always backed me up on everything and worried about me and somehow knew what was going on my life even when I didn’t tell her. Looking back, I think that my main goal was to make her proud of me. It always felt as though as long as Mom and Dad were there, nothing bad could ever happen. There hasn’t really been a time that I’ve felt downright homesick, but sometimes I get tired of being a family of one, of not having milk in the fridge, of not having someone taking care of me all the time. It takes some getting used to. That’s why it was so nice to go home. I fell asleep reading with the lights on as I always used to, I woke up to the sunlight streaming into my room, and, in the morning, Dad made me banana pancakes. I got to see my teachers at my high school homecoming and eat peanut butter pie with my mom at The French Market Grille, my favorite restaurant in Augusta. But then, after four days at home, it was also kind of refreshing to get back to Furman and to greet all my Furman friends as if we’d been apart for months. I realized that, in a way, I sort of have a family here. And, as time goes on, I think that family will grow stronger, even though it will always be a different sort of family than the one I have back home. Sure, there’s no one to worry about you 24/7 or to make your doctor’s appointments for you, but I’ve come to realize that as convenient as it is, I can make it on my own.

Anywayyy… on to studying.

For all of you working on college apps,

Good luck.

I thought this deserves an entry of its own...

Chuck Norris came to Furman.

Funny, huh? Yeah, that’s what I thought a month ago when I first heard that Chuck Norris would be speaking as a CLP event.

Chuck Norris came to Furman.

Yes, I know it sounds like just another Chuck Norris fun fact, but, in all seriousness, I kid you not. In fact, as soon as my friends update their facebooks (I don’t have my own camera), I’ll have pictures to prove here that Chuck Norris REALLY DID come to McAllister Auditorium.

McAllister Auditorium was PACKED. We got there an hour before the doors opened, and there were people already lined up outside, waiting to get in. I entertained the captive audience with an interpretive reading of the Top 100 Chuck Norris jokes, brought to you by www.the chucknorrisfacts.com. A few of my favorites:

1. Chuck Norris has already been to Mars; that’s why there are no signs of life there.
2. The Great Wall of China was originally created to keep Chuck Norris out. It failed miserably.
3. If paper beats rock, rock beats scissors, and scissors beats paper, what beats all three at the same time? Answer: Chuck Norris.
4. Chuck Norris knows where Carmen Sandiego is.
5. China was once bordering the United States, until Chuck Norris roundhouse kicked it all the way through the Earth.
6. Chuck Norris Sent Jesus a birthday card on December 25^th and it wasn’t Jesus’ birthday. Jesus was too scared to correct Chuck Norris and to this day December 25^th is known as Jesus’ birthday.
7. Chuck Norris can touch MC Hammer.
8. Chuck Norris owns the greatest poker face of all-time. It helped him win the 1983 world series of poker despite him holding just a joker, a 2 of clubs, a 7 of spades, and a green number 4 from Uno and a monopoly “get out of jail free” card.
9. Chuck Norris is Luke Skywalker’s real father.
10. Chuck Norris does not use spell check. If he happens to misspell a word, Oxford will simply change the actual spelling of it.

I hope you were as entertained as I was. Even Chuck Norris admits that most of his current fame across the college population originates from these wise sayings. He’s a great speaker, but I was surprised that he didn’t even mention McCain, considering the college Republican society (or whatever their official name is) put on the event. Instead, he told his life story, which was much more interesting and exciting (after all, it IS Chuck Norris).

Um. my new Freshman Fifteen Resistance Plan is no longer working. I NEED M&M’s. NOW. I better find a vending machine before I die of chocolate deficiency…

Hope to see you at Furman!!

“Just keep swimming, just keep swimming, just keep swimming swimming swimming…” I repeated over and over to myself, praying that the lifeguard had an eye on me as I struggled to finish my last lap. It’s hard getting back into shape after seven months of no exercise (unless, of course, you count power-studying and walking up that big hill between the dorms and the Dining Hall), and, after my last race of summer swim team, I’d vowed never to enter a pool for competitive/exercise reasons ever again. EVER. I went to college convinced that club swimming was DEFINITELY out of the picture.

Well, Furman recently renovated the pool, which seems to be a good thing, considering the tour guide on my first Furman visit was somehow proud of the fact that the existing pool was the third oldest in the southeast (or something like that). Apparently there had even been student protests fighting to preserve this historical landmark. I’ll just say it’s a good thing they didn’t get their way, because this new pool (25 yards, six lanes, and salt water instead of chlorine) is really nice, and, despite the fact that this particular construction project would have no relevance to my life, I layered my frazzled, chlorine-eaten swimsuits and went to go check it out. The minute I stepped out of the locker-room and inhaled the warm, thick, chlorine-y air...

… it felt like home sweet home.

Okay, well, maybe that’s taking it a little far, but as soon as I got out of the water, I realized how much I missed swimming. After all, swimming had been part of my life for as long as I can remember: I swam for my high school, did two years of year-round, coached summer league, and lifeguard and teach swim lessons during the summer. My friends Katie and Emily had signed up for Club, and they asked me try a practice with them. I agreed somewhat reluctantly, expecting it to be another rendition of year-round swimming, during which the coach would give me my own special practice because I couldn’t keep up with the other kids. Actually, it turned out to be far from the case. Sam, the captain (it’s student led), actually encourages people to miss practice if they have other things they need to be doing (ie studying or a club activity). There’s three different skill levels (gold, silver, bronze), and Sam gives each group a workout on paper, so you just do whatever you feel like doing – it doesn’t matter if you need to leave early. What’s even cooler, though, is that I’ve met so many people through swimming. Sam hosted a pizza/ice cream get-together for all of us at his apartment in North Village last Friday after a game of water polo, and I ate dinner last week with Yuri, my swimming “big” who’s really fun to talk to. My goal for next week is to make it to all five practices… I eat so much at the DH that I need to start going religiously.

Mom, this next paragraph is for you.

PARENT’S WEEKEND!!!!

Wow, it was perfect timing. From a freshman’s perspective, most of us are at the point when we’re all moved in and it doesn’t feel like camp anymore: there are classes to go to, tests to study for, and late nights in the library. I’m not homesick and I love college life, but I haven’t been here long enough for my dorm room to feel like home yet. If I couldn’t go home, home came to me; it was great to see Mom and Dad. We spent the entire weekend together: we went out to eat downtown, saw play called Copenhagen that three Furman professors (including Dr. Oaks, my History of Detective Fiction professor) put on, checked out Art in the Park (a bunch of local artists had set up outdoor displays of their work), cheered on the football team, and saw the Furman talent show. It was also nice that my parents could bring stuff from home that I’d forgotten and help me buy a few more things for my dorm. I love it here, but it’ll be good to see my family again during fall break in a couple of weeks.

Yeah, so um (an expression that I’m in the bad habit of using), the few people I’ve talked to from back home to have mentioned that I don’t seem to be studying much, considering my journal entries are all about concerts and downtown and weekend fun stuff.

PLEASE. Let me assure you, this is NOT the case.

College is SO much different from high school, way more different than I’d expected, especially since my high school allowed the seniors to leave campus whenever we didn’t have a class. Let’s compare:

Typical High School Schedule:

7:15 AM-2 PMish: classes

4-5:30 PM: swimming

7 PM-12 AM: homework/procrastinating

Typical College Schedule (Tuesdays and Thursdays)

8:30-9:45 AM: class

10- ? :Whatever I want to do.

Yeah, it sounds great, right?

WRONG.

There is nothing that makes you feel worse about yourself than realizing that you’ve sat in front of a computer screen for a solid three hours, during which you’ve only managed to type a terrible excuse for a paragraph and eat four bags of M&M’s. It’s so incredibly hard to get things done without a routine. I think it’s getting easier with time, though, and I’ve sort of come to accept the fact that inspiration for my weekly philosophy papers won’t come until one or two in the morning.

As far as professors go, they’re GREAT. And I’m not just saying that because one of them might read this journal. I have no trouble staying awake in classes, because I’m always interested in what’s going on and I WANT to participate. Sometimes I even look forward to going. Furman also requires students to attend a certain number CLP’s per year, which are evening hour- 2 hour performances or lectures. Yesterday, for example, I went to a CLP about Islam and the holy month of Ramadan, and tomorrow I’m going to a play that I’d probably attend even if I didn’t get academic credit for it. But anyway, I think I’m getting sidetracked from my point that I actually DO WORK while at college (radical thought, huh?), so, to sum it all up:

YES, Furman is challenging.

YES, the work is manageable.

Every night at 11:11, my roommate and I have been hosting 5- minute dance parties in our room, during which we blast one song and jam out with the people on our hall. It’s now 10:58, and I need to finish reading psychology before that, so I guess I should get moving.