I love college.

I have a bit of time, in between major/minor workshops and a meeting with our Orientation Counselor, so I thought I'd post an update. Being here is so wonderful, because it finally feels real, in a very good way. It eases my anxiety a bit to be around other people who are like me, who don't really know what they're doing, and who are excited about the fall. I've been exercising my people meetin' skills!

This campus is beautiful at dusk and nighttime. The setting sun set against the red brick and gorgeous architecture makes me incredibly happy for no reason.

I am so tired, because they don't give us very much time to sleep, and it's college, so people are loud. The dorm I'm staying in shares a bathroom with another room. Six girls, one shower, one toilet. To make it worse, the doors to the bathroom are very loud and heavy and slam when you shut them. But it's ok, because it's only for two days, and my real dorm has a private bath. I am seriously considering crawling up to my bunk and taking a mini-nap before going to meet my OC. Both of my orientation roommates are doing it right now.

Luckily, my computer somehow gets internet. There is no wifi in the room, but another girl has an ethernet cable that she let me borrow. They don't really give us much free time though.

Okay, that's enough blogging. Goodbye!

Winding down.

A little note:

Right now I'm packing for orientation. I am getting at up some godforsaken hour to board a plane and fly down South for three days of being "out of my comfort zone," as my dad says. Mostly I'm just feeling stressed out, because I've left everything until the last minute, including knowing what to bring and what to pack. Adding on extra stress is the fact that I'm going to San Diego to hang out with Becky for two days after orientation, so I'm bringing along stuff for her as well. I'm also really nervous about being down there by myself. I've flown alone before, so that's no big deal, but it's the three days around people I have never met before. I suppose that's what college is like, but it's still intimidating.

Today I found out my roommates! We've all facebook friended, and I'm looking forward to getting to know them.


Okay, back to packing.

The things you could do, you won't, but you might.

I don't know if it's routine hormonal fluctuations that are inspiring this current bought of comfortableness, but I've been in a quiet funk for the past several days. Combining frustration and unhappiness, it's been festering inside me, so here is my awful attempt at trying to release some pent up... something. When I try to reflect upon myself and determine what exactly is making me feel like this, the closest I can come is that I am not happy. As much as I pursue fun activities and spend time with friends, I still find myself in some kind of strange depression that sits on me, its weight slightly uncomfortable, yet bearable. For the most part, I know what I want, and when I don't get it I just spiral down into nothingness. What I lack has become so apparent that it's no longer prowling silently in the background. Perhaps it's because my days are numbered here, and I feel like I'm running out of opportunities. I don't mean to be dramatic, forcing attention from people by proclaiming, "HEY GUYS I'M LEAVING SOON SO HANG OUT WITH ME AND FULFILL ALL OF MY NEEDS." I certainly don't mean to create situations in which people are uncomfortable or coerced into doing something. Moving out is completely new to me. I've never lived anywhere but here, so the protocol is lost on me. My dad moved a lot when he was younger; his dad was a traveling salesman, so he often moved. He didn't have a consistent life growing up, which is why he made sure we would never have to move. But we have now reached the inevitable - college.

Oh dear me, I've veered off-topic. My whole funk is indirectly related to college, I'm pretty sure. Right now I'm listening to Elliot Smith because he fits my mood right now. I started listening to "Between the Bars," and the opening lines seemed like they had been written for this exact moment. Part of the inspiration for this late-night post is that I have not been out of my house save for two brief times. I have done next to nothing today, and when that happens I fall deeper into this pit of despair. As a student in school, I always hated when my time was wasted. I suppose it's the exact same situation here. Sitting in my room, with my laptop overheating from computer games and constant patrol of the internet, I feel completely useless and wasted. There is no purpose for today. Why did it exist in the first place? The part of me that wants to change this will be met with reality. Reasonably speaking, I have the potential to leave. I can get up, walk out my front door, and change my hermit existence of the day. But the problem of what to do or who to meet or being tired since it's already late confronts me in the meanest of ways. It doesn't do well to dwell in the past. I think I've been focusing on it too much, and that's hurt me in much deeper ways. Hopefully moving out and up will fix this problem. It's definitely bittersweet.

That's enough writing, my brain is starting to loose the ability to phrase sentences.

We're not in Kansas anymore.

Last night I dreamt that there was a tornado heading straight for us, so we took cover underneath a race car stadium. Apparently, their locker rooms and offices were below ground. We hid underneath until I realized there was a window, and I popped it out. It looked like Munchkinland, all bright and colorful, and there had been no tornado at all, according to the person who answered the door. We left the wreckage and the dream ended.



...

What?

Stream of Consciousness Ramblings...sort of

I've gotten into a routine, as far as internet things go. I check Facebook, Youtube, Blogger, Twitter, and sometimes just for the hell of it, my MyUCLA page to see if anything exciting is happening. This just in: my Bruin Card was mailed today. I look forward to watching videos by certain YouTubers, and I read Blogs written by people I have never even met. One blogger, in particular, writes every day, and that has gotten me thinking about the begining of the year, when I aimed to complete a 365. And although it wasn't always pretty or metaphorical, it was an excellent practice at phrasing words and articulating thoughts. I think I should start writing more often. Even now, I'm struggling to find new and inventive ways to start my sentences off with words other than "I" or "The." Has my haitus from writing really led me down such a disaterous road? I've heard the best way to become a better writer is to read more, which I surely don't do enough of. During the school year I'd tell others and myself that I'd have more time to read books I actually enjoyed when I had time and was not being forced to. Truth be told, I haven't picked up a book since May. I blame work. I still feel trapped, like when I was in school. Getting paychecks is nice, but waking up every morning knowing exactly what I'm doing for a majority of it is depressing. Especially during the summer. Oh well. There's only so much complaining you can do.

Part of the problem is that I feel more creative and able to write during small, fleeting moments that must be grabbed ahold of before they flutter away. Last night, after turning off my computer and waiting for sleep to settle in, I thought to myself about the importance of writing daily. I was already in bed, and my comptuer was off, so I'd just have to hope that whatever eloquent thought that was floating around in my head would somehow stick there. The thought finds me right now, as I should probably start heading off to bed. Some point I thought of last night is surely gone, and all I can do is try to recreate the creativity I once had. Sometimes it is impossible to take advantage of even the simplest situations. Other friends of mine have been known to scribble down dreams between puffs of unconsciousness. Perhaps I should invest in a bedside notepad.

Well, there are probably more thoughts, but I'll leave them to my pillow.

August.

I keep doing a double take every time I look at the date. It surely can't be August?! It feels like the summer is practically over already, and I've barely done anything yet. I'm sure that this is mostly a result of working everyday, and not realizing that I have a longer summer than normal. For the past 12 years, I was used to August meaning the return of school. If I were a year younger, I'd be back in desks in a mere two and a half weeks. The summer would be over.

And slowly, as July has blended into August which will soon blend into September, I've had to also realize that I am leaving soon. I haven't given it much thought before now, as I've been focused on working, and trying to fit some fun summer things into my days. Even typing it out makes my stomach twist in knots. I am terrified. I've never been away from this house for more than two weeks. Clematis has been my street for the past 18 years. My house is truly my home, and the thought that everything is about to chance in a matter of a month and a half is almost unfathomable. Which is why I haven't thought about it. College is exciting, and something that I have been thinking about and working towards for six years, but it actually being here is surreal.

I hope that when work is over, I'll have some time to relax, and really see my friends before I leave. Only 7 days left of work! It's another countdown, but so is life.