Ginger's having a great time at school, and we couldn't be more psyched for her! —Sparkitors
I’m here! It took one long essay, three short essays, a small mountain of paperwork, my entire life savings, and about 5 hours of driving, but I am finally at My School of Choice.
My first impression of college was that it really sucks to get up for 6:30 tennis practice. The appalling part is that I liked the two-hour morning practices better than the two-hour afternoon ones, because they aren't as hot. I think I sweated almost as much as Chelsea Dagger.
I can’t quite remember my second impression; I was too tired. It had something to do with the food being fantastic by cafeteria standards (which is still pretty mediocre by normal-people standards). I think a rabid squirrel may have also made an appearance in my second impression. But I may have been daydreaming that last part.
My third impression (after I slept for an hour. Or three.) was that college is absolutely spectacular, and just as wonderful as Willy Wonka’s Whipple-scrumptious Fudgemallow Delight! There’s nothing like freedom from The Man’s oppression! Just kidding. I’m not an angry feminist (yet). Still, it’s been really nice to drink sodas when I want to and put my shoes up on the couch. I can even wear my socks outside! Life is great!
Now I’m on my fourth impression, which is that I HAVE TO GET MY HOMEWORK DONE NOW! Classes started before I got my books, and now I have to write two short essays, take notes on a field trip (my school is in the middle of nowhere, so we have to take trips to the nearest city regularly), read part of a book that (so far) I really don’t like, and read four articles (from a book that I don’t have). We’ll see how that goes. So I guess college isn’t that much different than high school in that respect. Everything is just more difficult. And there’s more to do. And less time to do it. And I’m terrified out of my mind. But that’s ok. Because I’m in college now, and that means that I can go outside in my socks.
Back home, my parents have already replaced me with a foreign exchange student. She’s from Madrid, and the daughter of some people we know over there. She will take my room and bathroom, probably my spot on the tennis team, and a couple of my classes from last year. I might even introduce her to a couple of my friends who are still in high school. If I can get her to dye her hair red, I don’t think my parents will even notice that we switched places! It’s a brilliant beyond brilliant idea. One problem: I have class, and she doesn’t.
Ginger’s Song of the Week: This song is completely amazing in so many ways. I can’t even put into words the pure magnificence of it. All I can say is this: dancing German PowerRangers. Just listen, please.