24 October 2005
There’s something blatantly bleary about Monday mornings. As I trudge to my 8 a.m. class, the campus’ usually chaotic atmosphere settles into caffeine cravings and under-eye circles. Everyone falls into the comfortable monotony of hoodies and flip flops. Ah, Ben Franklin: early to rise, at least in the collegiate world, leads to sleep deprivation and lethargy. I glance at myself in a mirrored window. I have yesterday’s mascara on my drooping eyelashes, and my pajamas make me look fat.
Alas, there are no worms for this early bird.
I will never, ever, ever take an 8 a.m. class again. Ever.
All ranting aside, I admit that I’m living and loving–I’m relishing little stolen moments.
Like today, actually – UT ranked above USC in the BCS (Bowl Championship Series) rankings! I did a little happy dance for my Longhorns. It’s surprising, actually, that I care about football so much. At this school, it becomes part of you. Burnt orange pulses through my veins now.
Or like last night, when Cara (the same Cara of the last entry–one of my closest new friends) and I ventured to Slices & Ices. Slices & Ices (oh-so-conveniently located across the street from Kinsolving Residence Hall) has amazing pizza, and even better ices (the orange dreamsicle is, for all intents and purposes, dreamy). It’s cheap, ridiculously good and takes Bevo Bucks (university currency)—the three requirements for a Sam-approved venue. I love that place. Their spinach and asparagus pizza–a peculiar combination, I know–is a gustatory explosion.
Oh, and just this past week, Kinsolving (my dorm – if you’re a girl and looking at housing options, it’s a great choice) opened up a workout room, and as an elliptical addict, I’m ecstatic. Roommate was amused. She and I both know that I’ll be working out at all hours of the night now.
The longer I’m here, the more of myself I find – as obtuse as that sounds. Although I’m a girl of limited talents (unlike Roommate, the quintessential Rennaissance woman), I can exploit the few talents I have.
I’m a good writer. Oh, I’m far from great, that’s certain – but darn it, I’m good. I bake the world’s richest brownies. I’m determined. I’m stubborn. I’m funny (if unintentionally so). I make people smile. And yes, I’m a fashionista. I love clothes, shoes, bags – and I can color-coordinate them all.
And finally, I’ve realized that I’m sick of watching things happen. I’m disgusted with my general apathy. In order for fate to go my way, I’ve got to seize it. I have to make things happen.
To those three old crones, those vicious Fates – it’s you and me, now. Brace yourselves. I’m putting up a fight.
My ambition is stronger than mere challenges.
Implicit differentiation? I’ll go to my teaching assistant’s office hours. I have a friend who’s a math major. A midterm paper? Bah. With some hard work (and aching fingers), it’s doable. Freshman fifteen? I walk everywhere. I work out. It’s not happening.
Take that and rewind it back, Fate. I’m shaping my own destiny.
I refuse to succumb to convention. I’m going to wear white pants this winter. I’ll get at least a 3.5 GPA. I’m going to maximize my youth, and at the same time, I’ll manage to grow up. And you know what? I’m going to defy gravity.
And on a more playful note – GO ’STROS!!!
Something has changed within me
It's time to try defying gravity
Oh, and if you have questions, comments, critiques, drop me an e-mail at email@example.com. I don’t bite. Well, not hard, at least.
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