A few weeks ago, my roommate Ella and I were up late studying as usual, when I decided it was high time for meal number four. I stuck a bag of popcorn in the microwave and waited for a three second Legally Blonde in Downtown Greenvillepause between pops, then, after pulling out the bag, I ripped open with an Emeril-like “Bam,” expecting buttery perfection as usual. Much to my dismay, however, I found a smoking black clump of burnt kernels on top of my otherwise golden-delicious popcorn. So, with the intent of avoiding setting off the fire alarm, I ran out into the hall, waving the smoking bag in the air like a one of those mini 4^th of July flags. Alas, my attempt was futile, and a FUPO (Furman police) officer was in my room in a matter of minutes, shortly followed by the Duncan Chapel Fire Department (which I must commend for their speedy reaction time).

Lucky for me, the only punishment I’ve received is an official FUPO warning, along with several unnecessary snide comments from my peers concerning my cooking abilities. Unlike the fire alarm that went off at 4 AM the morning before the start of our first semester exams, our alarm only sounded in our room, so the only people we woke up were our neighbors across the hall.

A couple weekends ago, I went hiking up to Table Rock with my good friends Katie, Alexander, and Johnny. Katie, who’s an admissions ambassador, had to give a tour that morning, so we didn’t embark The One Mile Markon our journey until around 2 in the afternoon. By the time we got there, it was already 3:30, and the lady handing out the trail maps told us that the trail had closed at 1 to keep hikers from getting lost in the darkness. Well, we had driven an hour to make it all the way out there and we were not about to take the easy way out on one of those wimpy short trails, so we walked around the register without signing our names and took off practically running up the 3.25 mile, seemingly vertical climb. Katie led the way. I quickly found out that Katie has an incredible endurance for a former pageant girl half my size, and I almost stopped after the first half mile as a “safety precaution in case someone got lost or injured” (in other words, I was already past exhaustion and wanted to bail out).

Anyway, after a long couple hours, a few glorious water breaks, and several Embracing Deathfalse comments from hikers headed in the other direction that we were “almost there” (YEAH RIGHT), we finally reached the top. Now, I had been here before with the outdoors club, but the second time around didn’t make the view any less magnificent. It was beautiful, and I immediately wished I’d thought to bring a tent so that I could camp there forever. We ate the picnic we had packed and then hurried to make it down the mountain before the sun set. It wasn’t until we were back at Furman watching The Little Mermaid in Katie’s room that it grew dark outside (HA, grumpy trail-guide lady).

Katelyn, one of my other Furman best friends, is really involved with Habitat for Humanity. Specifically, she’s in charge of helping the lady receiving the new home to transition into a more stable life and to feel comfortable with the program itself. A couple weeks ago I went with her to help build. Although a lot of the people there were Furman students, there were also several community members, one of which who showed me how to put siding on the exterior walls. All in all, it was a really great experience, and I’m disappointed that I didn’t get involved earlier.

DJs

I’m not Greek, but I seem to end up at almost as many Greek functions as the full-out purebloods.

Awhile back, one of my best Furman friends Katelyn invited me to go to the Tri-Delt function. The theme was something that starts with the letter D. We went as DJs, but I also saw detergent, donuts, DH workers, and a bunch of other D-lightful costumes (HA. A knee-slapper). We got an awful lot of weird looks when we made an appearance at Fuddruckers fully clad and in our D-themed apparel, and I had a blast dancing until the early hours of the morning.

Then, a couple weekends ago, I went with my friend Lauren to the Chi-O function at a club downtown which Chi-O had rented out for the occasion. The theme for this party was “what used to be cool,” so Lauren and I dressed up as our parents. Since I was the dad, I tucked a button-down Hawaiian shirt into hiked-up cargo shorts, borrowed a mismatched tie from a boy upstairs, and wore black socks with Chacos. I have to admit that we were looking particularly snazzy for the special occasion.

To all you parents out there, I’m happy to inform you that the Furman sorority functions do not seem to me with my roomie Ella, AKA Ashley Olsenlive up to their stereotype implying that the alcohol at said activities flows like water over the High Aswan Dam. Although I was at the time slightly disgruntled by the forms which had to be signed stating that I wouldn’t drink, not to mention the stringent regulations forbidding anyone but a sorority member driving to and from the function, I appreciate the fact that the girls are careful about those sorts of things.

I was absolutely thrilled to find out that I’ll be living in the Spanish House next year with three close friends, Jessica, Melissa, and Katie. The language houses are open mostly to juniors and seniors, but apparently they accept sophomores too. We’re particularly excited because they’re located in North Village A, which is the apartment complex closest to classes, meaning that we’ll have our own kitchen, ginormous bathrooms, and of course a permanent fiesta (I’m buying a bunch of Sam’s-sized salsa containers, and we’re labeling every item in Spanish, ie “el horno” y “la computadora”). I’m even more excited because if everything goes as planned, I’ll be speaking fluent Spanish by this time next year. We’re required to speak to each other in nothing but Spanish, we’re taking two Spanish culture classes, and we have a bunch of speakers and activities planned for us. Ay, ay, ay!

iceskating!

The Sunday before last, I woke up to someone pounding on my door. I looked outside the window, and there it was, a thin blanket of snow barely skimming the entire campus. My friends and I bundled up as fast as we could and ran outside to the practice football field, where we hurled grassy snowballs at each other and threw ourselves penguin-like down a hill. By 11:00 the snow was completely gone, although I still have a teeny snowman named Frostiqua living in my freezer as proof to those who woke up too late that it actually snowed at Furman.

Rush happened over the past three weekends. The Furman statistics say that less than 50% of students go Greek, but that’s a little misleading, as 70% of girls are in sororities. I, for one, don’t consider myself katie and I dyed our hair pink: bad idea.the sorority type, but a lot of my friends are really happy with their bids. The process in itself seemed mostly chill but very time intensive. It’s cool that even though my friends have their new “sisters,” I still spend time with them and they haven’t given up their former activities or social life to be gung-hoe Greek. I actually started my own sorority called EKKD (my roommate and my initials), and we decorated other Independents’ doors, congratulating them on their acceptance.

I love my new classes. I’m taking Spanish 215, Interpretive Strategies, Inventing Christianity, and Finite Math with Dr. Shell. I’m also overloading my course schedule to take drawing II, and, to do that, I had to meet with Dean Bartlett, who I swear is by far the coolest person I’ve met so far on campus. I’d expected a severe, Professor McGonagall-looking lady and was very surprised when I stepped into the office of a well-dressed younger woman who has grade school kids of her own. Needless to say, the meeting went well, and I picked up my drawing class, no problem.

My birthday was the Tuesday before we came back to Furman, so I had two parties- a lumberjack party at home, and an 80s dance party at school. The 80s party turned out to be a blast. I had a rockin dance we went here to watch the sunriseplaylist, along with cookie dough (unbaked), Razzles, Fundip, Pizza Bites, and chips, cheese, and salsa. (I love food, if you haven’t noticed). We stayed up late watching Ferris Bueler’s (spelling?) Day Off and eating candy. As soon as pictures go up on facebook, I’ll post them for you to see. Everyone went all out with their 80s clothes... it’s pretty funny.

Well, it’s time to head off to Spanish class.

¡Buena suerte en el final semestre!

Ella decorated the dorm Circus-style for my bday... I even have Britney quotes on my ceiling!

... cue Jaws music...

EXAMS.

Well, the good thing is that if you start studying over Thanksgiving, the workload is manageable, and everything will probably run smoothly given you keep a steady study pace up until exam time. On the flip side, what psycho college student willingly puts himself through six weeks of self-inflicted hell? Sadly, I’m one of those obsessive freaks who spent Thanksgiving dinner thinking about myelin sheaths and Plato, although I’m terribly inefficient and spend most of my study time in a daydream. Even though I was up studying for my psych exam until 4 AM before my 8:30 test, the work paid off and my grades were just fine.

Furman, however, (whose unofficial motto is “where your best is not good enough since 1826) is surprisingly sympathetic toward the mental health of its students, particularly during exam time. FUSAB, the Furman student body, hired professional massage therapists, and students who signed up early enough got free messages, along with coffee and muffins. Unfortunately, my friend Jessica and I didn’t get there in time, so we grabbed some junk food and gave each other massages. Overall, I didn’t think exam time turned out to be nearly as horrible as it’s cracked up to be.

Although I’ve heard frightening stories about college professors from the Black Lagoon, I was extremely lucky this semester on getting into some great classes. I couldn’t tell you which class was my favorite, but I was particularly impressed with my Spanish professor, Dr. Bost. I came into his class a little nervous about Spanish, since I hadn’t taken AP Spanish since my junior year but had scored well on the placement test. After the first class, he assured me that I was in the right course level, and he made it clear that I was to let him know if I had any problems or needed extra help, a policy which of which I took advantage. In class, he made Spanish interesting by constantly making us laugh (I laugh twice as loudly as anyone else, mainly because I’m so proud of myself for understanding the joke), and I also gained confidence in my speaking skills. I’m even thinking about trying to get into one of the Spanish houses next year, even though I’d only planned to take a year of language just to get the requirement out of the way.

Well, I’m going to get back to reading the sixth Harry Potter book for the fourth time... hope everybody’s having as fabulous a break as I am.

At the top...

First and foremost:

CAMPING.

A couple months ago, I found out about this really great organization called FUOC, or Furman University Outdoors Club. Basically you pay $10 for your t-shirt, and all other activities are free, more or less. You can even rent out tents, sleeping bags, kayaks, whatever you want, whenever you want. So anyway, FUOC scheduled a camping trip the first week of November to Table Rock, which is located a on a mountain about 45 minutes north of Furman. I decided to go even though I couldn’t convince my very un-hardcore friends to go with me. As much as I love them, I’m a little glad I did this by myself, because I met some really amazing people, one of which has backpacked through China and wandered aimlessly around Europe, and another rafted down the Savannah River... on an air mattress. (And I thought I was brave for camping with a bunch of strangers.)

The hike up to Table Rock was gorgeous. We ate peanut butter and banana sandwiches and fruit snacks at the top, looking down at this amazing view that, to be cheezy and cliché, took my breath away and made me feel really small. After stumbling back down the mountain a couple hours later, we exhaustedly set up tents, collected fire wood, and started the spaghetti over the Coleman stove. That spaghetti was by far the best pasta I’ve ever eaten, and I’ve had a lot of pasta in my life.

Eventually it started to get dark and cold. Really cold. We huddled around the campfire and made smores Survivors of the Wildernessand talked for awhile, and eventually I found a smoky spot that made me feel cozy. Even though we were cold and filthy and sitting on the hard ground, there was no place I would have rather been. For that one night, nothing else mattered but the stars and the wind and the crackle of the fire, and I wanted to set up my own personal tent and stay in the woods forever.

Awhile later, we had moved on from smores to roasted bananas, roasted apples, roasted fruit snacks, and a combination of all three. It was about that time when we were all getting really sleepy, and I had dozed off a couple times. I didn’t want to crawl into the tent and miss anything, so I had the bright idea that maybe the girls should sleep outside, too, since the boys were already doing the same thing.

Um. Bad idea.

I “woke up” the next morning (the quotation marks because I don’t know for sure that I ever went to sleep in the first place) with frost and ice on the end of my sleeping bag. I was FREEZING. If you ever go camping, might I suggest that you take something better than a 30 degree bag for below 30 degree weather. Of course one of the boys THEN goes on to say that there had been five or six extra sleeping bags I could have curled up in. Somehow, I still didn’t want to leave. After some oatmeal and fruit snacks for breakfast, we packed up the car and headed off to Furman, where I took the best and longest shower of my life.

To all of you new Furman students, congratulations! I can’t wait to meet you!

Katie, Jordan, Katelyn

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).

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.

.

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!!

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.

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!!

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.