Not for all the love in the world

Last night, I had a dream you loved me. You loved me like you used to. This is all I remember of the dream, except for one thing, something that was still with me when I woke up. I remember feeling warm.

Maybe this time...

Something as changed. I don't know what it is, I don't know why it has, I don't know when it happened. But all of a sudden, I have become aware of it.

I notice it as I ride the shuttle and find myself smiling for no reason. I notice it in the extra bounce in my step as I walk out of the building. I notice it in the dance moves I pull out while in the elevator. I notice it when I tell myself not to worry about something, that it will be okay, and I am right. I notice every time I skip over sad songs to find one more upbeat, because I only want to sing something happy.

Maybe its simply the extra endorphins I have introduced to my system lately. Maybe its the changing leaves, the crisp air, and the sun still shining brightly. Maybe it is the realization that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Maybe it is that for the first time...ever, I can rock high heels without being freakishly taller than everyone else. Maybe it is the return of love. Maybe it is knowing that there are only 5 short weeks until I return to snow, fires, christmas carols and eggnog.

Whatever it is, whether it is one thing or a mixture of many, I don't think I want to know. Because then I will be able to see that there may be an end to it, that all this will be over soon. So don't try to fill me in; I will just turn up my music and continue dancing to it. Especially if I'm in an elevator.

A Whole New World

I live in two worlds; one at home, and one at school. I didn't know which was would, or should, dominate over the other. I felt like I had to keep the connections I had at home; stay in contact and up to date with the lives of all my friends and family I have grown up with. But most of my friends had gone off to school and started their second lives, and I was left with only a few strings tying me to home.

This meant that school should be my number one life, right? But somehow, it didn't have the characteristics of my life at home. I feel like there is always something I should be doing, that the work I have to do never ends. While I have the people I hang out with, I don't have that core group of friends I can depend on no matter what.

I knew that in order to feel like I completely belong in one place, I would have to let go over the other. I know now which one that is. Home will always be my home, but this is where I'm meant to be. It's hard knowing I have to start over-- knowing that this is now all I have, that this is my life. I guess it's what they call a "new stage in life," its just starting a little late.

So I'll take a deep breath and dive in. And never look back.

Boston, you're my home.

Ah, Monday Night Football. I can't say I've ever watched a full football game... any football game. Over the four years of high school, I probably saw 20 minutes cumulatively of our team play. And to think that I was there every Friday. Even the Super Bowls can't hold my attention. I'm much too busy examining the ceiling or... other... important things. But here I am, cheering on my team like I've never missed a game. I'm badmouthing the Bills like any true NE fan when really I've never even seen the Bills play. The only reason the game is on in my room is because my diehard Buffalonian hallmate has no TV in her room. But I'm trying to make it seem like it would be on anyway.

It's strange how one can become such a fan of something from their hometown when they move to a different place. And the best feeling is finding someone else who shares that love. Like the guy who yelled "Papelbon! Nice shirt!" to me at the Metro station, or the girl who apparently lives on my floor who told me that whenever I wear my Red Sox shirt, it makes her want to put on hers. This, of course, prompted my next door neighbor to tell us that when he sees our shirts, he wants to put on his Yankees jersey. My Texan roommate is having her parents buy and send her t-shirts of all her favorite teams to wear when they play, and Kaitlyn is sure to wear even just a purple shirt to rep the Ravens every Friday. Even those who have never followed sports are sure to throw in a shoutout to their hometown when the situation arises.

I've never been one who loved going into the city, or wanted to live there, but I find that lately I've been missing the little things. I'll miss the snow on the trees that line the streets. The article in the Globe of the brand new amazing dorm my sister happens to live in makes me miss the Charles. It's funny because I've never even thought of these things before. But maybe this place is changing me; maybe my heart is starting to love the city.

"Round my hometown, memories are fresh

Round my hometown, the people I've met are the wonders of my world

I like it in the city when the air is so thick and opaque
I love it to see everybody in short skirts, shorts and shades
I like it in the city when two worlds collide
You get the people and the government, everybody taking different sides"

- Hometown Glory, Adele

A week in...

So I've finished my first official week of college... I must say, it was a definite shift from Welcome Week.

My classes seem bearable, for the most part. I have Theater with a post-partum Sarah Silverman look-a-like, who admits to crying in her office during office hours, wondering how she will manage life as a new mother and continue teaching.

I wake up at 8 to go to World Politics with Professor Ngcoya, which, yes, is pronounced as a tongue-click. After 6 hours, I join my floormate Natalie in College Writing, which is taught by a middle-aged pierced man, who has managed to turn the class into a philosophical-sociology course. And then, when I should be going to bed, I instead trot across campus to attend Arabic, where the class has bonded in our experience of finding the mysterious location of this room resembling Snape's Potions basement.

Wednesdays, the day when most students have no classes, starts off with Spanish taught by a gangly white boy from New Mexico with dark-rimmed glasses. It ends with "Leadership Gateway," which I really have no idea what it is, or what the course entails.

Thursday and Friday are similar to Monday and Tuesday, with a slight change in the order of events. The workload for now is manageable, with mostly only reading to do. But looking back on this past week, I have been forced to wonder...

Everyone says college is the best four years of your life. I really can't imagine looking back on this week in 10 years and longing to do it again. The days are repetitive and tedious, filled with minute tasks. I'm sure its only because its still the first week and campus life has yet to pick up, but I must ask myself, what in the world was Asher Roth talking about, and how can I get into that school?

The Wonders of the City

Today, as I was people watching from the window on the bridge of Anderson 324 (the boys in 324 love you), I remembered something my dad said the other day:

"It would be interesting to be eccentric in DC; you'd blend in, I think."

While I have yet to experience the true eccentricities of the city, I have met some people with names more memorable than any I have ever heard before...

-Calvin "can i buy a vowel please?" Gmytrasiewicz

-Hannibal the 26-year old director of the Lincoln Theater

-Satchel Kornfeld, a McLovin reincarnate

-Achilles Stryker...'nuff said.

It makes me wonder what draws these outlandishly-named characters to our nations capital. Is it the thrill of knowing that at any 9.5 minute interval, they could contract HIV? The ability to eat cuisine as exotic as Ethiopian to as ordinary as McDonalds, all within the same block? Is it the enchantment of the monuments at night, the only thing magical enough to grant Chris Lin a successful date? The world will never know.

I'm sure this city has many noteworthy people throughout its streets that I have yet to come across; participants of the annual gay pride parade, the infamous BA, Barack Obama, you get the idea. Until then, until then.

This Post was facilitated by Brian "Amphitryon" Afeltra

Life in the Fast Lane

I always said I could never live in a city. My dream town is a small one, where everyone knows everyone and everything about each other. Think Gilmore Girls here. I wanted a Miss Patty at my door everyday, with a Luke's to go to when life got too crazy. So, when I applied to school, I knew thats what I was looking for. A school in, maybe not the middle of nowhere, but secluded and quiet.

Well, here I am in DC. When I chose to go to school here, I talked myself into wanting to live in a city. The opportunities are endless, the nightlife is hopping, the culture is abundant. While these may be true, I now remember why I never wanted to live in a city.

The Metro confuses me. How do the stops work? Is it the same taking the subway as the buses? Can you get on a bus going the wrong direction, or do they all make loops? Why can't I just take my little black bug and mapquest where I need to go? And why do people give me such weird looks when I call it the T? Haven't you heard of that thing?

There are too many options. Being one who could never really make decisions, what makes one restaurant more appealing and worthy to eat at than the one next door? It stresses me out and I will probably just end up coming back to my room and having a lunch of Swedish Fish and Goldfish. That'll fend off the Freshman 15, right?

Most rules are unwritten. People on escalators stand on the right and walk on the left. Don't be an escaleftor and stand on the left. You WILL get bowled over. It's okay to walk across a street even if it says don't walk, if someone on the other side of the road is walking across. Let's hope they get hit first.

So while this great big world is crazy and different, I think I can do it. It'll take some getting used to, but soon enough, those stairs at Dupont Circle won't cause cardiac arrest, and I'll know that my SmarTrip card worked without having to run through the detector hoping it caught the sensor. Someday, I hope that the size of my fish will fit the size of this pond, and I can't wait to see how I get there.