Just A Day

I’ve been here a week exactly today, and as such, not everything’s so new anymore. I’ve gotten (somewhat) used to the campus and eating is no longer such a thing.

I do find it odd, though, that usually within a week I’m already attached by the soul to the people I’ve met the week before. CTY, NYLC, HSK, GYLC…all 2-4 week things that started quickly and ended with all of us in tears. Maybe it’s something about spending 24 hours a day with the same people, instead of having the option to hole away in my private little  room without even a roommate. Forced together.

Maybe it’s because when we were 12, 14, 16, 18, etc, alcohol wasn’t such an integral part of bonding. I’m sorry, but alcohol just tastes bad. It’s not even not wanting to break the law, since I’m legal here – I even straight up told my mom the drinking age is 18 and so I’ll probably go out and try it…she was completely fine with it – or thinking its “bad”…alcohol just…tastes bad. And I’m sorry, but I don’t want to be tipsy with people I just met…wouldn’t that be far more enjoyable with people you’ve known and loved for a long time? Your best friends?

Maybe I’m just getting old. I remember back in the day when I was so keen on getting to know everyone, meeting different people, making so many different friends. It was always so interesting, but now it’s just taxing. Emotional fakeness that I don’t want to be a part of.

Eugh. All I know is that it’s been a week and I feel like all these strangers are just that – strangers.

Maybe it’s wintertime and my annual habit of being a hermit at wintertime isn’t helping the situation any, either.

Whatever. Classes are short, only two hours a week per class. Yeah…here’s my schedule, so if you ever need to find me..

Uh…I meant to convert the times to EST to make it easier but then realized that none of you would ever, ever need to find me at such wee hours in the morning…

So nevermind.

But yeah, classes are alright. You just go. Sit. Listen. Take notes. Classes are classes wherever you are, right?

Oh. I lost a pen today. It was from China. It was a .28 black gel pen. Those of you who know me know just how demoralizing losing a pen is for me.

Went to the mail room mail rack to see if my bank got back to me yet or if I got any books yet…

I don’t get many letters in the mail anymore, but there’s still something offputting about having your letters thrown in with everyone else’s like this. One of those little cubbies is D-E and everyone from Wedderburn and Gowar (huuuge halls, may I add? With letters. Like. Wedderburn A, B, C, and D. Full size buildings.) just thrown in together.

Eh…you’re alerted of packages by little slips of paper just thrown into that blue tray by the side. They’re not dated, either, so it’s just a whole mess of non-alphabetical slips of paper that you have to flip through every time to see if anything came.

Not a fan, especially since Bentley emails you every time you get a package, followed up with a daily reminder for 30 days afterwards. And you have to show proper ID or an email from the person saying you can pick up their package…and our own mailboxes. Oh, the spoils of privacy.

Then I had lunch.

It wasn’t good.

I wasn’t surprised.

I miss Seasons.

This is Henry. He’s the flat-shared vacuum. He’s going to be my best friend.

I apologize for the less than enthusiastic update today…not really in the mood, I guess.

Hope you’re all doing well.

 

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