A Whole New World

Dearest Readers,
You enter a new meeting. What you say: Hi I’m [insert your name here,] and I’m new. What you mean: I’m super fabulous and you should all want to be friends with me but seriously I’m just desperate so please like me! We’ve all been there. We’ve all had to be … new … my mind shudders at the thought.
Now granted, there are perks that come with being able to recreate your identity. The majority of the time, however, being new is just a rough experience of trying not to pander to new authority but gaining their respect, trying to find new people to chat with, and coming off as self-confident but not egotistical. It’s a work out for sure … I’m worn out just thinking about it.
I am not claiming to be any expert on the topic, but as a freshman in college, I have some authority on the subject. I know we’ve all heard the classics clichés on how to fit in and be the most beloved person on day number one, but lets be real, we all want to know what really works. So here’s my handy How To: Be New (see how that rhymes … please take a moment to giggle and appreciate my work here ... now moving on) for those who are going to be new or those who have been new and merely think it is humorous to learn of my many mistakes:
1. Don’t be a know-it-all: For those of you who know me, I hope you are giggling because you must know how difficult this is for me to say. Yes, I was that girl who raised her hand in middle school to answer every question. Yes, I learned the hard way. Even if you really do know a ton about the class/subject/collegiate life/what have you, don’t tell people about it. No one wants to be friends with the kid who already knows everything. You make friends by slogging through the learning process together, kapish? (Ps. This is not to say don’t act passionate … definitely do, just don’t let the world know all of your previous knowledge right away.)
2. Act like you have other friends (because hopefully you do): This is a tenuous piece of advice, because you can’t act like you have too many friends because then you are inapproachable and intimidating. What I am saying is, if you are on campus and see someone you know, even only a little, wave at them. People want to know that you are normal. Text sometimes. Friend people on Facebook. I know that sounds sad, but seriously, we all know we want to be friends with people who have social skills.
3. Don’t be a creeper: Now look here people, I am all for befriending strangers (some people have the ability to do this without coming across as a crazy), but don’t be desperate. Compliment people on what they are wearing or point out a book they are reading that you have read before (yes I did just use two totally dorky examples … what can I say I’m a nerd). But make the comment and move on. No one wants to be stuck making awkward conversation for the next three minutes until class starts. However, next time you see this person wave subtly. If you receive no response, move on to other people. Exception: beginning of freshman year this rule doesn’t apply, because everyone is so desperate for friends sometimes being a creeper actually helps.
4. Don’t let out all your crazy all at once: This is another one that all of you who know me show guffaw at, because I am kind of … well … a lot o’ crazy. So let’s just say, I know this one from real life experience and leave it at that. We all know that we have a little (or a lot of) crazy in us, but let’s just try to be normal for day one. I am not saying change yourself for others, but I’m going to be real here: Reel them in by your adorable and seemingly normal behavior and let your crazy slowly reveal itself. If you reveal all of your crazy, you have reached true friendship! Hazzah! Well done!
So there it is, I know only 4 steps!! (But let’s be real here, I just can’t hold your attention span for much longer anyway). But coming from a girl who grew up for 12 years in the same place, where I led or was freakishly overactive in most activities I was involved with (I already admitted I’m a nerd, so why not just let it flourish), I know first hand how hard it is to walk the halls and realize you don’t know every face passing you by and how difficult it is when you enter a meeting, and everyone doesn’t say hello and ask you to make plans this weekend. It’s weird, and I myself am still learning.
Lesson to be learned: All of us have to be new at some point, but you work your way up to being experienced, or at least comfortable, faster than you think. You can’t obsess or stop yourself from joining something for fear of the unknown. Because logically, you can’t get over being new until you work you’re way up and then you’re … not new. I know, I know, intelligent statement. But hey, I’m new at blogging so cut me some slack! ;)
Newly yours,
Adorkable

Is This Home?

Dearest Readers,
This past weekend has been an emotional rollercoaster. First, Ohio University epically defeated Georgetown and I mobbed with my fellow bobcats on Court St. wreaking havoc on streetlights. Then, I returned home to watch the theater class I grew up with perform their last play … goodness gracious I am psychologically wiped! Within the course of 48 hours two juxtaposed events have forced me to question my place … how do I fit in anymore?
When I was a little senior in high school (I mean it was so long ago … a whole year), the wise and all-knowing college kids advised me that my college life would quickly become more important than the willy-nilliness that is high school. I looked around. I had close friends, a good family, passion for all I was involved in, and I thought: Am I really supposed to just let it all go? Well I am here to tell you of the younger generation (and to those of you in the same boat as me I hope you will read this and nod sagely to yourself): Change sucks, but you don’t have to forget the past. You just have to be sure you are lively passionately in the present. (If you have now just gagged I apologize.)
Take a gander at my past few days and you will see this overstated lesson applied in real life (imagine that!):
For those of you who barely know me, I tend to like the spotlight (many can attest to this fact). My senior year, I was a member of the evening theater company (ETC for short), and this class of crazies became a huge part of my life. It was hours of time where you were trapped with the same people; therefore, you kind of have to become a family, or as I like to call it a sort of dysfunctional and freakish support system. Our theater teacher told us at every performance to appreciate the moment in time that we had together, because never again would this same group experience a performance like this together. Each time she told us, we would kind of roll our eyes (come on, like you wouldn’t?), but once I went off to college it actually resonated (don’t you hate when that happens?). I would never have that moment again. Kaput. Done. No more.
Goodbye pseudo-family, hello strangers! Don’t panic dear readers, all is not as tragic and woeful as it may currently seem! Life in college, though moderately frightening at first, is a daily marvel that can all be summed up in the celebration on Court St. after the Bobcats triumphed on Thursday. Thrashing about abnormally close to my fellow bobcats as I lost my voice screaming the chants of O-H-I-O, I recognized that I have a life here. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t let random person #3 mash into me – crushing my rather skinny but gangly limbs – in the name of OU. College has become my life.
So I have now presented you with two rather odd tales, but this is the part where I will attempt to beautifully weave them together! Even though a part of me hated to recognize that I am not a member of ETC anymore (it really resonated when I saw the last show on Saturday and realized how much I would never perform on that stage again), I recall my theater teacher’s words and recognize that it was a moment in time that will never happen again, but that doesn’t mean it never happened. It was amazing and left a mark on everyone who was there, because in that moment, it was everything … and that is enough. There are more things to be passionate about and more pseudo-families to form, but that doesn’t mean I will forget the moments I spent in time with that class at that moment. (I feel I have now used way to many these and that’s, but I am trying to speak in the abstract here so cut me some slack).
Lesson to be learned: Life goes on, but it doesn’t forget. Ironically enough, as I struggle with how to connect to both my hometown and my college life, a girl who graduated with me from the aforementioned theater class, who will only be known as “truly inspired chick,” told me she reads my blog. My blog serves as a means to connect me to both sides! I still don’t fully grasp how I am supposed to be connected to my home home and my home at Ohio University, but such is life. Juxtaposing events weaving together connecting me to millions of different moments. For now, I will try revel in these moments of time with the people I’m with, because really, what else can you do?
Longingly Yours,
Adorkable

You Would Cry Too, If It Happened to You

Dearest Readers,
I never thought it could happen to me. I was robbed. Don’t worry; it’s probably not what you think. No one attacked me at gunpoint or any craziness like that; however, it was a frightening tale of woe that has led to my now permanent distrust of humanity (okay slight exaggeration but still).
I was studying dutifully on the seventh floor of Alden Library. For those of you who have never been there, it is the best floor of the library ever. The tables are right next to the huge glass windows allowing you to see out for miles. I was minding my own business, when I had to print meaning I had to go the center of the seventh floor. Leaving my notebooks strewn in a disorderly mess on the table, my backpack on the ground, and my laptop on the table, I employed my friend at a nearby table to watch my belongings.
After printing took longer than expected (of course it did, it’s alden), my friend had to leave for class, so I told her I’d be back for my stuff in a minute. However, nature called, so I grabbed my laptop and headed to the bathroom. PLEASE NOTE MY MISTAKE HERE: leaving the rest of my belongings on my table unattended. Upon my return, the table was just as I’d left it and I returned to my homework, but when I went to grab for my backpack I discovered it was MISSING. *MOMENT OF PANIC*
Now, I normally am irrational so I tried to calm myself as I hard-core sprinted through the stacks in search of my missing bag. As I realized this was not a cruel joke, the truth hit me. I had been robbed. Not only that, but on my most beloved of floors. Oh cruel fate!
After tears in the bathroom, and a panicked questioning of all those who happened to be on the seventh floor at the time (my apologies, because in my mind I was accusing all of you), I had to go to class. Luckily, all that was in my backpack of any importance was my i-pod. Still…ouch.
Three hours later I returned to the library with friends, and stumbled upon none other than my backpack!!! Granted, it was ransacked and pilfered and left in the midst of the seventh floor stacks. My i-pod was gone, along with my drivers license, and 15 dollars of cash. The rest was left! Oh joyous day! I know it seems strange, but I felt so blessed in that moment.
When someone steals from you, you don’t feel that upset about what they took, but more, that someone could invade your privacy so easily. It shakes you. When my things were (mostly) returned, I was just pleased to have the little things that mean nothing to the thief, but a lot to me: some orange ginger hand lotion, my classy water bottle.
Lesson to be learned here: It can happen to anyone. Watch your stuff!
Sincerely,
Adorkable