First-Year Student Journals : Kristin : Journal 6

Kristin's miniature straw box that looks like the White House

Kristin wears her sunglasses while hanging out on campus

Kristin | Profile | Reflections | Journals: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12

Does it have to make sense?

I often ask myself that question, especially when I find myself intermingling in the chaos of human life. My first semester at UT has fallen short of being the proverbial “coming of age” myth. I vacillate from acting like I am five and acting like I am in my mid-30s. Sometimes jumping on the couch is a fun thing to do, especially after eating cookies and milk. Sometimes pondering the meaning of life is a good (but not necessarily amusing) task. Do I have to make sense? No.

Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and wonder what I am supposed to be doing. Of course, the easy answer is sleeping. I shouldn’t be waking up in the dark of night filled with musings about how I should live my life, what my values are and how to reconcile those values in principle and pragmatic practice. I try to make sense of it all. After all, I’m a grown-up and grown-ups have plans and they have a direction and objectives.

Being here for a whole semester, I can’t honestly say that I have grown up. If anything, I have reclaimed my more child-like self--the giggler, the mischief maker, the joker, the person who used to dig in the yard for buried treasure. Kristin the five-year-old and Kristin the 18-year-old are becoming reacquainted. It is sometimes proposed that sanity is found between two extremes. That’s my way of making sense of it all. Work and play. Play and play. Work and work. I tell myself, “Mature but don’t decay.”

Do I have goals for next semester? Certainly. I don’t buy into the idea of taking random classes to “find myself.” Mostly because I don’t think I am lost. I have admitted to feeling lost, but feeling and being are distinctly separate. For example, I have felt stupid, but I don’t believe I am stupid. I am experimenting with the idea of being nice to myself. That’s my goal. I am going to be nice to myself.

I was inspired towards my newly found goal during a conversation I had about two months ago. A friend and I were conversing and I said, “I am working hard at not being a workaholic.” My friend looked at me and said, “That’s funny. Did you hear what you just said?” I have decided to take basics next semester. Nothing too elaborate. Just the basics, the fundamentals and a few attractive electives. In other words, I am taking the cookies (electives) and milk (core courses) of college coursework.

I have extracurricular plans, too. Right now, I am not as involved in the organizations I have joined as I could be. I anticipate becoming more involved on campus next semester. My extracurricular activities always saved me from being bogged down by the drudgery of high school classes. In college, the classes are very stimulating (if you choose carefully) and the extracurricular groups are usually full of excellent people. By derivation, my goal is to have more fun.

I also have some very personal objectives. These are the kind I hold very close to me because I fear disappointing myself. I still have my dreams and I fear them. I feel that even if I whisper them to myself, the world will tell me that I am impractical and paving my own path to unhappiness. And so I desire to work on my own private projects, in spite of the overwhelming pressures of college. My inner child no longer wants the safe way, the practical way. UT has helped me reclaim the child within myself. However, I must accept the fact that by allowing myself not to have a fixed, settled, four-year plan, I may make mistakes. Do my dreams have to make sense? No.

Such is the stuff I have learned during my first semester at college. In addition, I learned many lovely things about marriage, Miles Davis, linguistic philosophy and the socialist feminist perspective of media criticism. Happy holidays…

Send questions and comments to kristinrochelle@yahoo.com.



	Kristin \| Profile \| Reflections \| Journals: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 Home
	Does it have to make sense? I often ask myself that question, especially when I find myself intermingling in the chaos of human life. My first semester at UT has fallen short of being the proverbial “coming of age” myth. I vacillate from acting like I am five and acting like I am in my mid-30s. Sometimes jumping on the couch is a fun thing to do, especially after eating cookies and milk. Sometimes pondering the meaning of life is a good (but not necessarily amusing) task. Do I have to make sense? No. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and wonder what I am supposed to be doing. Of course, the easy answer is sleeping. I shouldn’t be waking up in the dark of night filled with musings about how I should live my life, what my values are and how to reconcile those values in principle and pragmatic practice. I try to make sense of it all. After all, I’m a grown-up and grown-ups have plans and they have a direction and objectives. Being here for a whole semester, I can’t honestly say that I have grown up. If anything, I have reclaimed my more child-like self--the giggler, the mischief maker, the joker, the person who used to dig in the yard for buried treasure. Kristin the five-year-old and Kristin the 18-year-old are becoming reacquainted. It is sometimes proposed that sanity is found between two extremes. That’s my way of making sense of it all. Work and play. Play and play. Work and work. I tell myself, “Mature but don’t decay.” Do I have goals for next semester? Certainly. I don’t buy into the idea of taking random classes to “find myself.” Mostly because I don’t think I am lost. I have admitted to feeling lost, but feeling and being are distinctly separate. For example, I have felt stupid, but I don’t believe I am stupid. I am experimenting with the idea of being nice to myself. That’s my goal. I am going to be nice to myself. I was inspired towards my newly found goal during a conversation I had about two months ago. A friend and I were conversing and I said, “I am working hard at not being a workaholic.” My friend looked at me and said, “That’s funny. Did you hear what you just said?” I have decided to take basics next semester. Nothing too elaborate. Just the basics, the fundamentals and a few attractive electives. In other words, I am taking the cookies (electives) and milk (core courses) of college coursework. I have extracurricular plans, too. Right now, I am not as involved in the organizations I have joined as I could be. I anticipate becoming more involved on campus next semester. My extracurricular activities always saved me from being bogged down by the drudgery of high school classes. In college, the classes are very stimulating (if you choose carefully) and the extracurricular groups are usually full of excellent people. By derivation, my goal is to have more fun. I also have some very personal objectives. These are the kind I hold very close to me because I fear disappointing myself. I still have my dreams and I fear them. I feel that even if I whisper them to myself, the world will tell me that I am impractical and paving my own path to unhappiness. And so I desire to work on my own private projects, in spite of the overwhelming pressures of college. My inner child no longer wants the safe way, the practical way. UT has helped me reclaim the child within myself. However, I must accept the fact that by allowing myself not to have a fixed, settled, four-year plan, I may make mistakes. Do my dreams have to make sense? No. Such is the stuff I have learned during my first semester at college. In addition, I learned many lovely things about marriage, Miles Davis, linguistic philosophy and the socialist feminist perspective of media criticism. Happy holidays… Send questions and comments to kristinrochelle@yahoo.com.