"I'm a big kid now!"

Okay get in your comfy position. Cross your legs, put on a sweatshirt, some fuzzy socks, throw your hair up in a bun. Now, imagine this with me. Ya know those kids that were "potty trained" just a little too soon? Those princess/power ranger panties were rewarded, but after one night you wish you stuck with the winnie the pooh pull-up. Now apply that situation to my first real week of college. Let's start with Monday. After hours of preparation all weekend, I completed one class' assignments. I dabbled in the other two, but spanish, my first class of the day...complete. Then I showed up to class. I completed the wrong assignment. Fail. After calling and having a good little chuckle with my dear sister, I walked with my head held high to history, then world religions. There are these two girls, they know everything. If it happened, which makes it history, they know it. Yet they're in my class, stealing allll my thunder. All I wanted to do was comment on the effects of Mesopotamian culture or perhaps the beginning of agriculture, which I conveniently highlighted pink when taking prior notes in an effort to quickly recognize and know all answers. But no, I was the silent one because every time I opened my mouth, a voice that did not sound like my own rambled off paragraphs much longer than answers I'd prepared. Someone else just had to be the teacher's pet. Not to worry, world religions still seemed promising, because this time I had the right folder (I may have been unprepared for the first day of class. may have happened). This time as I proudly opened the folder (sitting within the "T" of knowledge might I add. Front and center.), half a cookie appeared. Not conveniently in one piece; nope, all crumpled. A few big chunks, some straggling crumbs rolling down the slant of the desk and onto my lap/floor/keyboard. Remember I'm in The "T" of knowledge, there's no hiding the remnants of my lunch. I wouldn't have even had a cookie for lunch if I had remembered to print a few study guides off the night before and had time to eat lunch before class! I scream freshman. No, you can't hear it, I never actually speak it, but when I walk out of the bathroom with water all down my shirt/pants because I've yet to figure out the water pressure, when I e-mail professors because I can't find an assignment and tell them i'm in the 2:30 class instead of the 1:30 class i'm actually in, and when I carry my very large lime green laundry bag (so cute!) across campus to do my first load of laundry with my one best friend out of the 6,000 students here, I scream freshman. I'm like a toddler. The days at this university are my princess panties. I kinda miss winnie the pooh.

College Day 1

Between the hugs, the laughs, the numerous power strips/extension chords, fans set on high, and many attempts at lint rolling the carpet, it was hard to focus on the reality of yesterday. It was a fun day that ended with my dad coming back into my room for the 3rd time for a hug and my sister jumping up and down waving quite dramatically as all 6 of my movers walked down the hallway. Well, I guess that's not exactly where the day ended, but where life's predictable routine did. I dried my tears as the rest of my hall stared at me (we had to gather for a meeting), took a deep breath (so not to trigger the asthmatic symptoms :) ) and accepted my new reality. College.

Tragus or Tat

I did it. I had my tragus pierced. Sounds totally creepy and inappropriate right? Let me back up; all of my life I've become numb to saying no. It was such a second nature response everyday and every night. no, i will not drink that, no i will not smoke that, ew, no i will not do that. But of course I became 18 and here I was, piercing free, tattoo free, and boring. Senior trip came along and my girls decided to pierce their bellybuttons. For so many reasons, that was not a good choice for a girl like me. Fast forward, I stood there watching and screaming as karli gripped the arms of the chair and stevee winced in immense pain. But then came the peer pressure, not only from my best friends and sister, but also the employees of the store. I got a small discount and thought ah why not pierce the cartilage thingy sticking out of my right ear (who does that??). For some reason I did not process that a man would be using his strength to stick a needle through the thickest part of my ear. There he stood, tall, muscly, tatted up, gaged ears, smiling. As the cracking exploded like the fireworks finale on the 4th of july inside my once hole free ear, I started to realized what I just committed to. The cute girl with a tree tattooed up her back and everything visible (and prolly more) pierced promised the pain wasn't bad. She lied. The employees came from the front of the store because apparently we all screamed, I don't recall. The blood, which I also didn't consider being part of the equation, dripped. I have vowed to never have children because of the pain I went through that day. Now I only wear one earbud in my left ear while the other hangs down over my shoulder. And no, it's not b/c I'm trying to be a wangsta. I let a man stick a needle through me ear. I saw the large needle with a cork on the end when I accidentally looked in a mirror, and am painfully reminded of the sharp earring it was replaced with daily.

Oh and it would be totally cool if you kept this on the DL...Bruce hasn't found the sparkling diamond yet.