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.