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xaaraEvery once in a while, when I am bored/angry/upset/annoyed, I shuffle on over to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
hesychasm's In lieu of life and just wallow in the joy.
Then this afternoon I was sitting in the living room, trying not to think too hard about the fact that I have fifty more terms (dates, definitions, connections) to memorize for history and about a hundred more pages of Gulliver's Travels to read before I'm caught up with English (where I have a final tomorrow), and I wrote a list. Which I think, in hindsight, was partially inspired byhesychasm's. But anyway.
College is caffeine. College is eight hours of studying to two hours of sleep to nine point eight meters per second squared times the mass equals the Newtons. College is recognizing the kid who comes into the Deli because he sat three seats behind you in lecture. College is reading anything (everything) except the textbook.
College is hating your lecturer but loving your TA. College is loving your lecturer so much that you would bear his children even though the children he's already got are twenty years older than you. College is wishing your TA could fucking speak English.
College is locking yourself in a room until the paper's done. Wondering where the hell that one paragraph came from and why you can't remember the difference between then and than at five o'clock in the morning. College is flinging formulas at problem sets and squeezing epics into five pages of close reading and sleeping it off for twenty minutes before turning it in.
College is shower, what shower? College is not having shaved in three weeks and buying new socks so you don't have to wash the dirty ones and leftovers that aren't growing anything you can see, so they have to be all right. Right? College is frosting gay gingerbread men for Christmas and baking scones with your roommate at three in the morning. College is whatever they have on sale at the grocery store and lots and lots of curried lentils. And canned tomatoes. And Triscuits.
College is embarrassing stories about that one time you got trashed and then you woke up and there was a boy on the couch who you kinda sorta maybe work with and who tells the story to everyone you meet until you give up and just laugh. Or that other time you got trashed and made out with a random boy on a dance floor while Green Day blasted your eardrums to ringing. Or that other time when you got trashed and watched crappy TV until your eyes burned and went to sleep happy, so happy, and how despite all this, you're pretty straight-edge.
College is Milton and Donne and Shakespeare and Spenser and Chaucer and Twain and Kerouac and Morrison, Jim and Morrison, Toni and Morrison, Van. College is f = v/2L and F = ma and F = 0-59%. College is reading for understanding, reading for love, reading for sanity, reading for sleep. College is spending a third of your paycheck on printer cartridges and paper and photocopies and batteries. College is spending the other two thirds on rent and internet and scrabbling together the last dimes for a cup of chai.
College is eight hours of work and two hours of class and run home and nap and eight hours of work. College is knowing all the regulars at both your jobs. By their first and last names. College is knowing which woman wants seven lemon bars and which wants a mixed green salad, hold the carrots, sherry dressing, whole grain bread, large tea. College is loving the regulars for not changing.
College is freezing on the way to class and freezing through class and freezing in your apartment. College is waking up at two in the morning because your room is ninety degrees and opening a window to let Wisconsin winter in. College is yelling good morning to the neighbor smoking on his roof and fuck off at the neighbor playing Tom Petty at eight on a Saturday and you know it, baby at the neighbor who says you look good in your new jacket.
College is rising at dawn, three days before the winter solstice, and looking at a stack of flashcards as tall as your cup of coffee and thinking Yeah.
hesychasm's In lieu of life and just wallow in the joy.Then this afternoon I was sitting in the living room, trying not to think too hard about the fact that I have fifty more terms (dates, definitions, connections) to memorize for history and about a hundred more pages of Gulliver's Travels to read before I'm caught up with English (where I have a final tomorrow), and I wrote a list. Which I think, in hindsight, was partially inspired by
hesychasm's. But anyway.College is caffeine. College is eight hours of studying to two hours of sleep to nine point eight meters per second squared times the mass equals the Newtons. College is recognizing the kid who comes into the Deli because he sat three seats behind you in lecture. College is reading anything (everything) except the textbook.
College is hating your lecturer but loving your TA. College is loving your lecturer so much that you would bear his children even though the children he's already got are twenty years older than you. College is wishing your TA could fucking speak English.
College is locking yourself in a room until the paper's done. Wondering where the hell that one paragraph came from and why you can't remember the difference between then and than at five o'clock in the morning. College is flinging formulas at problem sets and squeezing epics into five pages of close reading and sleeping it off for twenty minutes before turning it in.
College is shower, what shower? College is not having shaved in three weeks and buying new socks so you don't have to wash the dirty ones and leftovers that aren't growing anything you can see, so they have to be all right. Right? College is frosting gay gingerbread men for Christmas and baking scones with your roommate at three in the morning. College is whatever they have on sale at the grocery store and lots and lots of curried lentils. And canned tomatoes. And Triscuits.
College is embarrassing stories about that one time you got trashed and then you woke up and there was a boy on the couch who you kinda sorta maybe work with and who tells the story to everyone you meet until you give up and just laugh. Or that other time you got trashed and made out with a random boy on a dance floor while Green Day blasted your eardrums to ringing. Or that other time when you got trashed and watched crappy TV until your eyes burned and went to sleep happy, so happy, and how despite all this, you're pretty straight-edge.
College is Milton and Donne and Shakespeare and Spenser and Chaucer and Twain and Kerouac and Morrison, Jim and Morrison, Toni and Morrison, Van. College is f = v/2L and F = ma and F = 0-59%. College is reading for understanding, reading for love, reading for sanity, reading for sleep. College is spending a third of your paycheck on printer cartridges and paper and photocopies and batteries. College is spending the other two thirds on rent and internet and scrabbling together the last dimes for a cup of chai.
College is eight hours of work and two hours of class and run home and nap and eight hours of work. College is knowing all the regulars at both your jobs. By their first and last names. College is knowing which woman wants seven lemon bars and which wants a mixed green salad, hold the carrots, sherry dressing, whole grain bread, large tea. College is loving the regulars for not changing.
College is freezing on the way to class and freezing through class and freezing in your apartment. College is waking up at two in the morning because your room is ninety degrees and opening a window to let Wisconsin winter in. College is yelling good morning to the neighbor smoking on his roof and fuck off at the neighbor playing Tom Petty at eight on a Saturday and you know it, baby at the neighbor who says you look good in your new jacket.
College is rising at dawn, three days before the winter solstice, and looking at a stack of flashcards as tall as your cup of coffee and thinking Yeah.