The Semester I Really Learned

I started out with all sorts of ideas about how this semester would carry out. There was a sweet balance of "been here, done this" and "everything's so new" that day I moved myself in for keeps.I wasn't new at this; why, a year before I'd been shaking in my khaki shorts as my family hauled boxes and bags into 315 Riverside East. And still, the idea of living in an apartment with my best friends kept making me smile all day long. It felt so surreal. Words like perfect and freedom and laughter kept slipping themselves into my thoughts. And in the end, it was perfect and free, and people, there was a lot of laughter. But what else there was took me by surprise. It shocked me. It made me angry.

Basically, I'd never experienced the stress that such a large load of school inevitably induces. As the girl who showed up on test day in high school and aced it and somehow found her way into not one but two Freshman Compass classes (read: "Write an essay on the difference between high school and college") her freshman year, things like studying for more than one night before the test were foreign to me. But this year, I had whole weeks where I didn't move from my spot on the couch, weeks where I felt guilty for breaking for dinner because "I have stuff to do!" Weeks where I would find myself, mid-Biology notes, thinking about my Human Development test and suddenly, there would be tears that I would whisk away, hoping none of my roommates caught a glance. Weeks that I took out way too much of that stress on way too many people who never deserved a lick of it. And I regret that.

I pulled out better, shinier grades this semester than I ever have before, which affirms what I knew all along: if I put the work in, I could and would get it done. But I learned that I don't want to live in a world where being destressed is a foreign idea, where, more often than not, I feel guilty for taking dinner breaks. I took that lesson and learned and dropped a class next semester and signed up for yoga. I feel that I am guaranteed a less stressful existence in the start of 2011.

So, that is my spiel about that. What's up next is all the crazy wonderful bits that I got swept up in, as well.

August 2010

moved in, threw Joanna a rockin' Birthday dinner, started class, revisited Summer Snow, learned how to cook black beans

September 2010

Went to the lake for Labor Day 2010 (again), Fell in love with Alabama football (again), suffered Round 1 of tests, found out just how wonderful our balcony really is

 October 2010

Went to Lake Guntersville for Fall Break #1, remembered how liberating it is to (occasionally) skip class, carved pumpkins, became half of a Halloween costume called "Can and A Bowl"

 November 2010

went to an away game (Tennessee), went to the Harry Potter premiere, went to a square dance, went home for Thanksgiving, met my goal of finishing the Harry Potter books

 December 2010

I finished strong. And it was awfully hard to say good-bye.  

 At the end of it all, I learned a lot. I learned that allopatric speciation occurs when one species turns into two because of geographical barriers. I learned that widowed men remarry 5 times more often than women. I learned how to build a wrench out of shapes in a computer program, and I tried to convince everyone that Grendel wasn't really a monster. I learned that most of the time, you get what you put into it, whatever it may be. I learned that productivity comes in all kinds of different ways, and that sometimes, unproductive productivity is more important than dishes or homework. I learned that people are more integral to this life than anything else, save for Jesus, who is a person, anyway. I learned that eating together brings you closer to the people around your table. I learned that sometimes, you have to start the conversation. I learned that at the end of the day, I a bold, and that whoever is loving me has to like that sort of thing. I learned that running away because you're scared is a terrible reason to run. I learned that I'm more of a yogini than a runner, anyway. And in yoga, I learned, you have to breathe through the pain. I learned that a family never means "ideal." Instead, a family means "acceptance" and a family means "selflessness" and a family means "I'll hold your hand" and "Please, don't be perfect." And don't worry, I took that lesson to heart.

Spring 2011? Bring it on. 

The second time around.

As second semesters tend to do, this semester follows semester one.

"The spectacles of experience: through them you will see clearly a second time." 

-Henrik Ibsen

The wonderful thing about doing things for the first time is that for the most part, you going in without preconceived notions about how it will be. Sure, you've heard stories. You've seen it on TV. You've every single piece of advice anyone ever thought up on the subject. The problem about going in the second time is that you walk in with  whole new ideas of how it's supposed to be, a whole new set of standards to compare it to. Last semester, I only had class on Tuesdays and Thursdays; I made it a habit to see the sun rise, sleep the day away, and then watch movies until 4 a.m. again. It was wonderful and awesome and so.much.fun, but it wasn't reality. This semester I had class every single day and I'm still not used to it. Some of my first semester glee and joy and newfound independence seemed to wear off as I was reminded what it was like to wake up for class every single morning and to have assignments due all week long (not just on Tuesday!) and to spend hours at the library doing actual work. All that sounds like I might be downing these last few months, and while it's true that they were different and harder, more secluded and less carefree, longer and shorter than those in 2009, they were still incredible. So I know that I talked about how hard it will to leave before; now let me tell you why. 

                                      

January: I experienced God in a great big way at Passion2010, and then I came home and danced in the parking lot with my best friend because we were back. Our football team became the NATIONAL CHAMPIONS*. I started class. I got sick of class. We almost never got together anywhere because everyone was so busy. But sometimes we did.

February: My friends got together for Curious Cupid, and I got a vase of duct tape flowers. That doesn't sound too romantic, I realize, but it was probably one of the most wonderful presents I've ever received. (Thanks Blake!) That week as the most horrible one in the entire year; it threw at me tests and hospital stays and fights, but I do remember that I successfully planned three birthday parties that same week.  I learned how to dance in the rain.

March: I felt the sunshine again. We decided to sit on the quad and bask in it on Thursdays at 2 p.m., more often than not with tuna sandwiches and salads and banana pudding from Lakeside. Then, I realized that the sweetest words in the English language aren't declarations of love at all; no, they are spring break. That was one friggin' awesome week. Then we came home and geared up for the last two months. I'm still not sure where those two months went.

April: This, my favorite month, was a big deal month. There was Easter with my family and I fell back into love with them. There was Gracie's birthday and and Spring Retreat and A-Day and my birthday. I never did a post telling you just how lovely that was, so let me give you the skinny: I have insanely wonderful friends. There was a visit from my mama and my favorite kids, a surprise birthday breakfast, a 2 a.m. present reveal, a picnic by the river, a birthday party, and lots and lots of brownies. It was perfect.

Today is April 27th, and I'll be moved out on May 7th. I'll be heading to Atlanta to nanny for my aunt and uncle. I'll be leaving this behind. But I have it here, and I have it in my heart, and I am holding onto it so tightly, in hopes that I never forget a single detail. And I know that I'll soon release my grasp; I'll loosen my grip so that the details indeed fade and brand-new memories fill their places. I'll have an incredible sophomore year, I just know it. But let me tell you this: this year, these months, that group of people up there- I couldn't have asked for better.

God has been good to me.

*Roll tide!

Semester one.

It's almost over, this first semester of mine. I feel like I need to write it all down, to look at it before me so I can see what I've done and who I've become, because it just doesn't feel surreal in this life, at least not yet. Part of me still feels like I'm at summer camp for an extended period of time and that any day now, I'll pack up and head home, but the other part of me can barely remember what it was like before this life. It's a fine line, a blurred line, a jagged line. It's all about growing up, I suppose.

First, I'd like to do it chronologically. I'm not one for this, but I think I'll start it at the end of every semester. At the end, I can look back and say, "Oh my goodness. I forgot all about that." Which is a beautiful gift. Anyway, here we go!

• August: Quit work, moved to Tuscaloosa, participated in Alabama Action, met Janie Parker and Gracie Renfroe, started class, went home for the first time, came back, realized I loved it.

• September: went to the lake for Labor Day, went to the first football game, went to the beach with Callie, got bogged down with homework, went to Doster Cafe every Tuesday and Thursday.

• October: became good friends with Sarah, Ross, Justin, Jessica, Ginny, Will, Pete, Norm, and so on, went on a Fall Break extravaganza to Peachtree City/Atlanta/Helen/Monticello, won a jar of candy corn at the Halloween Festival, attended Prattmont's new building dedication, stayed bogged down with homework, went to Bryant every Tuesday and Thursday for lunch.

• November: went home for Hailee's birthday, saw New Moon, went home for Thanksgiving for nine days, got sick of my family, came home for finals, stayed at Bryant for lunch, but then went to the library.

There are more things, though. Things that made this amazing and hard and incredible and worthwhile, and these are things that I want to remember; I want to find the right words to capture these moments so that when I'm 45, I can close my eyes and be here again. Because I don't ever, ever want to lose this.

I want to remember going to the dining halls and eating, and hating it, but loving it because it was "free" and because we'd push the chairs and tables together until we had a big party and we'd eat our crappy food together.

I want to remember how we gathered in various dorm rooms night after night to watch movies or play Catchphrase, and how I always wanted Justin on my team, but never, ever Will.

I want to remember dressing up after the homecoming game and dancing at a party, but getting kicked out and instead going to Ally's dorm and dancing for hours more- Pete taught me the pretzel.

And sitting on the quad for hours at a time, sometimes in the middle of the night, playing frisbee (Well, not me) and drinking cold hot chocolate (hm..) and listening to music.

Or going to Gorgas Library and drinking coffee and blogging, and smiling because I am so in love with this place.

I want to remember staying up until 4:30 a.m. when I had 8 o'clock classes because the conversation was so much deeper than I was used to and I couldn't bear to end it. I don't want to remember the day that I skipped class because of it or the day that I didn't and almost died from exhaustion.

And road trips with Janie...the majority of our friendship has been spent in a car!

I want to remember getting angry at my roommates for eating my food and cleaning the bathroom for the first time and dusting like Lori was always sure I wouldn't.

I want to remember the first time my family came back after moving me in, how I guided them around campus and proudly showed off my house, because, well, this is home now.

I want to remember the first time I was walking down the street and someone saying hey, and how I felt for sure that I belonged after all.

I want to remember how I felt included and loved right away, and how God reminded me time and again that this was the place for me, and that He had His hand in all of it. I want to remember the day that I was walking to the Ferg and I felt His presence so, so much that I literally lost my breath and had to sit on a bench to take it in. I don't want to lose any of it.

I realize that soon- probably next semester or next year- we'll have boyfriends and girlfriends and jobs, and we'll all move off campus. Eventually, those boyfriends and girlfriends will become our husbands and wives and we'll graduate and scatter, and e-mail each other every few months with new pictures of our kids or updates on our great job promotions, but for now, we can get together every night and watch a movie and eat frozen grapes and it has made me happier than I ever thought I could be. I don't want to forget it.