Exploding feet, space marines, and the classic panic attack.

After a lot of time off campus and the panic attack to end all panic attacks, I think I've realized that I can do this whole college thing. I realized this a bit late, rushing back to campus at 11PM last night to throw everything together and print off my syllabus for Religion and get everything ready to use my mad elliptical skills at this gym before class. (So the latter didn't happen this morning, but it will tomorrow morning. I have to get my morning routine timed and perfect first.)  

My English professor looks like Ryan Gosling with a ponytail and let's us call him by his first name. He's quiet and deep voiced with a Masters in Creative Writing and made me feel completely comfortable as I was the only one in class who spoke above a mumble and had to introduce myself first (darned "A" last name. You are the bane of my preferably quiet existence. . .). His class is going to be largely reading and analyzing and discussing with a lot of opinion based writing, and no final exam. In fact, neither class I've taken today had a final exam. Celebrate? Yeah basically. 
My Religion professor sent out the world's scariest syllabus that put pictures of a bitter old Atheist man into my mind. Needless to say, I didn't go into this class feeling too excited about life, and the classroom didn't help. It's in a giant lecture room with stadium seating, flickering lights, and no windows. Three minutes before class starts, a man with an almost triangular formation of black curls on the literal top of his head, diamond studs in each ear lobe, and a goatee walks to the front of the room, sets two books on either side of the chalkboard and shouts, "DO YOU SEE THESE BOOKS?! BUY THIS ONE *dramatic gesture towards the one on his right* NOT THIS ONE *dramatic gesture to the one on his left*" 
Imagine if Zach Galifianakis was teaching your Religion class, hated the classroom so much he joked about it being an experiment from the Psychology department and compared it to the Mel Gibson movie "Conspiracy Theory", used your feet exploding as the example of what to get a doctors note for, and screamed "MY DAMNED SON AGAIN!" when his phone rang then picked it up and went "I'M IN CLASS!" and hung up. 
Yeah, it's going to be a very interesting and entertaining semester in Religion class. 
My last class of the day isn't until 3:30, so I went and got some lunch and attempted to read some of the book I'm currently reading while the guys at the table next to me (very passionately) discussed what it takes to become a Space Marine. (Yes, I was dying to take them all outside and show them the real world, but I refrained.) 


Maybe I'm not so bad at this college thing after all. Who knows, before long maybe I'll even (Wait for it. . . ) LIKE it. (GASP, I know. Insanity.)

Dorm Room Tour.

I guess I should be that cliche freshman and show you what my dorm looks like. So ladies and gentlemen, sit back and buckle your seat belts, keep your hands and feet inside the blog at all times, and enjoy. 
My dorm is located right next to the tennis courts and soccer fields and houses mostly freshman. After a long climb up three flights of stairs, you arrive at my room. 
This is my bed and dresser. 

My bed is on 7 inch lifts and because I'm only 5'1'' (I grew an inch before Romania. I feel like I'm a whole foot taller now.), I am forced to literally hop up onto it. Hopefully I won't be breaking my legs this year or else I'll be sleeping on the floor. My slightly spastic and almost mentally challenged fish, Bashina, sits on the dresser. If he dies this year (Which he shouldn't. I'm a good mom.), Roomie and I are going to legitimately have a funeral for him and bury him somewhere on campus. 

Then we move onto my desk area. 

                                      

 My desk is home to everything from Paduch the computer to my books and make up and a Woody toothbrush holder who is serving as a holder for my computer charger chord. I basically live here, sitting in the desk chair that wants to be a rocking chair and scares me periodically when I move by making me feel like I'm going to fall backwards. It's baller. Behind my desk you see my closet door where basically everything else is stored. 

And that's it. 

It's small and simple, but it's where I'm living for the next two semesters and has a pretty decent view of the soccer fields and tennis courts, so I'll at least never have a lack of entertainment. So I'm not complaining.

The Very Worst College Student.

If I had to make an estimate for you, I'd say that since I moved into my dorm on Wednesday morning 95% of my time has been spent off campus. 
Obviously, I'm REALLY good at this whole college thing. 

I'm going to be completely honest with you, I'm not digging this too much. I'm hoping once classes start and I have something to focus on, things will get better. . . but for now I'm just not digging it. Nothing about this whole staying out late at night midnight freeze tag knock on strangers doors and live in a room with someone you just met lifestyle appeals to my born-30-years-old soul. There was a time when I found it exciting to play freeze tag at midnight and stay up really late and eat a lot of junk food, but that was in 8th grade. At this point in my life, I'm much more content with spending my evenings with a book and a cup of tea, then jumping (literally with this bed. It's lifted 7 inches off the ground and was already kind of high to begin with.) into bed by 11. Maybe I'm boring, but I'd rather sit and have coffee with you than throw a frisbee or go to a party. 
Another factor into my whole "College just isn't my thing" and off campus lifestyle is the fact that I'm going to school in my hometown. The past two years of my life have been filled with sentences like "When I move back to Greensboro. . ." and have revolved around plans for coming home to see the people I grew up with and my family we left behind when we moved to Charlotte. Unlike everyone who moved here from other cities and states, this is my home. I know this town like the back of my hand and have friends and family I've been dying to be able to spend time with again. It's not a necessity for me to make friends at school because I have friends here already. I guess I should have thought about that more before enrolling, shouldn't I? 

Basically, in short, I've spent the majority of my time off campus with my best friend and family and have gone to bed early the nights I've been here, while my roommate is always gone and out late. I'm perfectly content come Monday when classes start to be that girl from room 314 who gets up early, goes to the gym, goes to her classes, and studies. I'm probably going to look into the Campus Outreach group on Tuesday nights, because the guys from the group that helped me move my boxes on Wednesday were really cool, but otherwise I'm content with my chill lifestyle. If I get lonely, I'll talk to one of the girls on my hall or my roommate when she's here or I'll go see Ashleigh or call up a teammate or go see my family. I have options, and it's not like I'm planning on holing up in my room, eating alone in my room, and never seeing day light. I still plan on bathing and getting out in the sun and I'll definitely have my classes completely covered and my 15 gross Romania pounds lost. 
I'm just really content to read my books and drink my tea and go to bed at 11 when everyone else is just beginning their night out. I didn't come to college to party, I came to get a degree because college is such a necessary evil and I need to be prepared.

Team Romania.

Betsie drew this adorable picture of our team. From left to right: Jessie, Bryan, Sarah W, Haley, Betsie, Emily, Me, Ian, and Kelsey. This basically made my very, very dismal night so much happier.

One more day.

I move into my dorm tomorrow.
I'm not ready.

Sure, I have a pile of stuff and textbooks and my semester tuition is paid. But mentally, I'm just not ready for it. I'm not ready to leave the town I've learned to call home and the group of people who have taken me in. I'm just not excited about it. I can handle it, sure. I'm more than capable of navigating a campus and handling classes and making my own decisions. But do I want too? No. I could move in tonight and be absolutely fine, the problem is I'm just not excited about it.
Everyone else is excited. Everyone else can't wait to have "freedom" and be on their own. The problem with me is that I know college isn't my home and isn't where I belong. College for me is a necessary evil before I can be where I belong, and I just have to make the most of it while I can. The next four years of my life are going to be spent on a college campus where I'll be gaining life skills for the mission field and a degree in sign language, all while trying to be an encouragement to those around me. It's an adventure I'm not excited about, but I know I have to just accept that and move on. We can't always be called to things that are flat out exciting, can we? That would be too easy.

And hey, if all else fails, I was expressing this anti-college rant to a friend last night and if I end up hating it too much he's going to kidnap me and we're going to eat snails in Paris instead. So at least I have options.

Days until college: 1.
(I still need a countdown. . . let's all get brainstorming.)

(The Countdown) Two More Days.

How does someone with two days left until they move into college spend their last weekend of freedom?
Well, they might pack up all of their belongings into a box, shoot off fireworks purchased in South Carolina with their cousins, drive around blasting Paramore and Ke$ha with a friend, and becoming a mom.

Yes, you heard me correctly. I am now the proud mommy. Meet my baby, Bashina.

Bashina is a spastic, slightly challenged little goldfish who was left in a tank with three other goldfish that no body wanted solely because he wasn't golden or shiny and his only colorful splash is an orange blotch above his eyeball. Even the sales person tried to convince me to get another fish because "those are all so plain!", but I knew that someone needed to love this little guy even though he wasn't the most colorful fish in the tank. I brought him home and put him in his new tank and this Wednesday we'll be moving into my dorm room together.

I haven't had a pet of any kind since my tree frog, King Rupert Weaslebee, died during my freshman year of high school. Hopefully this is going to go well.

Days until college: 2.

(I need something else to keep count of everyday, like a countdown to something or number of a certain kind of food I've eaten or number of squirrels I've run over with my car, etc. etc. etc. Feel free to leave your suggestions for such a thing in the comments)

Two cousins; an tale of adventure (and slight insanity)

Once upon a time, there were two girls. They were cousins separated by a three month age difference and cities two hours apart. The older one was quiet and unsure and just looking for a place to fit in. The younger seemed to always know her place and wanted to grow in it. They spent their childhood climbing the giant tree in their grandparents front yard and playing made up games about wizards and magic and left each other notes under the loose bricks outside. As time went on, their roles quickly changed from story weaving playmate to advice giving comforter and their days of eating butter before looking at Christmas lights and hiding behind a bush until their mom called them home came to a close. The older cousin moved to the younger cousins town and they both acquired boyfriends they would have been better off without and the younger cousin listened to the older cousin ramble on for hours about how she would never be happy. 
Where are they now?


The older one graduated high school and spent a month of the summer in Romania, where she found purpose and the answers she needed and finally found the place she belonged. Now she's starting her freshman year of college and preparing for the unspoken adventure that entails. 
The younger one changed her senior year plans and took a chance. She's leaving for Ireland, where she'll be an exchange student for six months, having adventures with leprechauns and nuns in the land of potatoes. 


This is the story of me and my cousin, and we're blogging through our experiences in these next few months as we face new challenges a whole ocean apart from each other. 
So, needless to say, the next few months are going to bring about changes of the major sort, challenges we've never imagined, and countless memories we'll have for the rest of our lives. 
My stories will be told here, obviously. And Carrie Lee's will be told on her newly started blog: 
http://carrieleeblogshere.blogspot.com 


Follow her and enjoy. We're all in for a bumpy but thrilling ride.