I'm getting all packed, and I'm truly almost there! I still need my flight from Florence to London, but I'm not too worried about it. My travel buddies just need to get it together because I've been ready to buy a flight for three days now.
I also survived another orientation today. I was more comfortable onstage, which actually was not as beneficial as I might have hoped. A few "ums" escaped, and I almost drew a few blanks today. When people say they never say the same thing twice when public speaking, they aren't joking. I got a ballpark number of how many people I was in front of, and it was about 600-650 incoming freshmen and parents. That's a real feat if you ask me!
Here's a funny Strugglebus moment I encountered today:
Once I was done with my four minutes of fame, I went to make a few copies of my passport in the Marshall Center computer lab. I was trying really hard to figure out how to scan my passport and I couldn't figure out where to send it - it was just a mess. So, there I am tapping relentlessly on the screen with no luck, and I'm certain I'm hearing the same struggle next to me. I finally give up and look to my left where I find mutual failure. He asked if I was trying to scan my passport, and I replied that I was. It turns out he was, too! I then inquired where he was headed. What are the odds he's also studying abroad in Florence? Frazzled and adventurous minds think alike, I suppose.
Luckily, a girl to my right is also studying abroad soon - in a different location - and saved the day. I got my passport scanned, printed, and ready as a backup in case something goes awry. But really, what are the odds of this madness?!
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
Saturday, June 8, 2013
T-Minus 10 Days
A week and a half is left until I leave. Holy. Fudge. I started packing already! I'm pretty sure this is the first time I haven't procrastinated in a long time. Go me!
The last couple days have actually been really great! The Strugglebus has clearly stopped for maintenance or something so I haven't been riding it so much. We did have a couple of tornadoes nearby from Tropical Storm Andrea. I drove back from USF during all of the warnings on the radio. That was an adventure.
I was at USF because I was speaking for the Office of Undergraduate Research in those khaki pants I was complaining about. The Orientation Team Leaders (OTLs) and some other speakers said I did a good job. Thank goodness! It was so much different being onstage than preparing for it. It seems like an obvious thing to say, but it is absolute truth. I couldn't get through a single run either in my head or out loud without pausing, laughing, or saying something strange or inappropriate. However, once I got up there with the mic in hand, I put on a performance just like I used to for dance shows or musicals in high school. I wasn't nervous once I actually spoke, but before that, I'm almost certain my heart was going to leap out of my chest. I survived this time and apparently looked pretty snazzy, too. One orientation down, two to go!
Speaking of speaking, I heard a fabulous message by the pastor from Elevation Church (I forgot his name - Steven Something? Shame on me!) It was about the gap between expectation and experience. I fit the model so well, it was sickening. I realized that I oftentimes try to impose my expectations on other people, but that's not right. Like Martha, who was complaining to Jesus about her lackadaisical sister, I sometimes miss the beauty of the experiences I'm having because I'm too focused on the immaculate vision fabricated in my mind. Things don't always go as planned, but there is always a reason for the place we end up.
I miss messages like that at my church because I feel like numbers are the main focus sometimes, and that's not what a walk with Christ is about. It's about following Jesus' example and living like Him. I'm Christian, but I honestly get sick of other Christians sometimes because they act self-righteous instead of selfless. The crazy ones, like the old guy in front of Cooper Hall that calls every passerby a whore, give us a pretty bad rap. I suppose every religion/set of believers deals with these stereotypes, though.
On a giddier note, I discovered I have an affinity for b-boy style dance. My background in gymnastics and dance are perfect for me to delve into it. A good friend of mine has some sweet moves that I want to learn. I miss dance a lot, but since my disk herniated, it's difficult to train like I used to. I hope this is something I can really get into because I've wanted to do something somewhat athletic, but creative as well. Maybe I'll find a crew; that would be awesome! All this jumping around has tuckered me out, so I'm going to snuggle in my blankets - a.k.a. the cloud. Goodnight!
The last couple days have actually been really great! The Strugglebus has clearly stopped for maintenance or something so I haven't been riding it so much. We did have a couple of tornadoes nearby from Tropical Storm Andrea. I drove back from USF during all of the warnings on the radio. That was an adventure.
I was at USF because I was speaking for the Office of Undergraduate Research in those khaki pants I was complaining about. The Orientation Team Leaders (OTLs) and some other speakers said I did a good job. Thank goodness! It was so much different being onstage than preparing for it. It seems like an obvious thing to say, but it is absolute truth. I couldn't get through a single run either in my head or out loud without pausing, laughing, or saying something strange or inappropriate. However, once I got up there with the mic in hand, I put on a performance just like I used to for dance shows or musicals in high school. I wasn't nervous once I actually spoke, but before that, I'm almost certain my heart was going to leap out of my chest. I survived this time and apparently looked pretty snazzy, too. One orientation down, two to go!
Speaking of speaking, I heard a fabulous message by the pastor from Elevation Church (I forgot his name - Steven Something? Shame on me!) It was about the gap between expectation and experience. I fit the model so well, it was sickening. I realized that I oftentimes try to impose my expectations on other people, but that's not right. Like Martha, who was complaining to Jesus about her lackadaisical sister, I sometimes miss the beauty of the experiences I'm having because I'm too focused on the immaculate vision fabricated in my mind. Things don't always go as planned, but there is always a reason for the place we end up.
I miss messages like that at my church because I feel like numbers are the main focus sometimes, and that's not what a walk with Christ is about. It's about following Jesus' example and living like Him. I'm Christian, but I honestly get sick of other Christians sometimes because they act self-righteous instead of selfless. The crazy ones, like the old guy in front of Cooper Hall that calls every passerby a whore, give us a pretty bad rap. I suppose every religion/set of believers deals with these stereotypes, though.
On a giddier note, I discovered I have an affinity for b-boy style dance. My background in gymnastics and dance are perfect for me to delve into it. A good friend of mine has some sweet moves that I want to learn. I miss dance a lot, but since my disk herniated, it's difficult to train like I used to. I hope this is something I can really get into because I've wanted to do something somewhat athletic, but creative as well. Maybe I'll find a crew; that would be awesome! All this jumping around has tuckered me out, so I'm going to snuggle in my blankets - a.k.a. the cloud. Goodnight!
Wednesday, June 5, 2013
T-Minus 13 Days
I am less than two weeks away from my greatest adventure yet! The only thing stopping me is a set of freshman orientations I have to speak at and hurricane season. Please, please, please let there be no wild storms headed to Florida on the 18th. There's already an almost tropical storm outside, but that's nothing - just some inconsistent downpours. That brings me back to my first day of college when I actually didn't have a first day because tropical storm Isaac was to make landfall. Psych! It turns out, Isaac wasn't about the Florida life and gave us a nice sunny day off instead. Thank you, sir.
The forecasters claim this season is going to be active in the Bay area. I made a snarky comment about how that's stupid because we don't get hurricanes anyway. I think I may have jinxed the weather. Maybe I jinxed it back by saying that so now it won't be very active. Either way, I won't be here to see it unless a storm brews up in August.
I hate these pants. I had to buy business casual pants to work orientation, and I didn't want black so I searched for some khakis. I tore apart the mall yesterday to find something and still left empty-handed. Whenever I'm looking for something, I can't find it; when I'm just browsing and don't intend to get anything, I come home with an armful of clothes. How does this make any sense? Also, what college student majoring in nothing business-related needs business clothes right now?! I'm really on the Strugglebus today. I finally found some today that I guarantee I'll only wear once - technically three times, one for each session. Nevertheless, stores need to get it together and order some decent khaki pants. My new dilemma is finding a shirt. I just can't find one to wear because everything looks ridiculous with these pants. I wish I could just go in my pajamas.
Even if I could, the fact that I'm on my own up there talking to hundreds of freshmen is terrifying. I dread this kind of stuff, even if it is for three minutes. I think it goes back to the outfit. I don't feel confident in it. No - these pants can't defeat me. If I can make a twenty-five minute presentation for an honors class, I should be able to manage three measly minutes for some bored kids. I used to dance and perform in theatrical productions for goodness' sake. I will own this presentation. And I will look good. And I will seize the wheel of that Strugglebus and drive it to success.
That, my friends, is how you win a battle against yourself.
The forecasters claim this season is going to be active in the Bay area. I made a snarky comment about how that's stupid because we don't get hurricanes anyway. I think I may have jinxed the weather. Maybe I jinxed it back by saying that so now it won't be very active. Either way, I won't be here to see it unless a storm brews up in August.
I hate these pants. I had to buy business casual pants to work orientation, and I didn't want black so I searched for some khakis. I tore apart the mall yesterday to find something and still left empty-handed. Whenever I'm looking for something, I can't find it; when I'm just browsing and don't intend to get anything, I come home with an armful of clothes. How does this make any sense? Also, what college student majoring in nothing business-related needs business clothes right now?! I'm really on the Strugglebus today. I finally found some today that I guarantee I'll only wear once - technically three times, one for each session. Nevertheless, stores need to get it together and order some decent khaki pants. My new dilemma is finding a shirt. I just can't find one to wear because everything looks ridiculous with these pants. I wish I could just go in my pajamas.
Even if I could, the fact that I'm on my own up there talking to hundreds of freshmen is terrifying. I dread this kind of stuff, even if it is for three minutes. I think it goes back to the outfit. I don't feel confident in it. No - these pants can't defeat me. If I can make a twenty-five minute presentation for an honors class, I should be able to manage three measly minutes for some bored kids. I used to dance and perform in theatrical productions for goodness' sake. I will own this presentation. And I will look good. And I will seize the wheel of that Strugglebus and drive it to success.
That, my friends, is how you win a battle against yourself.
Monday, June 3, 2013
T-Minus 15 Days
I'm basically down to the 2-week mark, and I'm freaking out a little bit about traveling. I still haven't determined how I'm getting from London to Florence, but I'm sure I'll make it. Another student wants to tag along, so I feel like a third person will be really fun and better to travel with, but we shall see. I'm stopping by my campus to make some copies of my passport, and I have a pocket-sized defense mechanism I'm borrowing from a friend so I won't deal with any funny business while I'm overseas. I'm going to miss my pals here, but I can't wait for some new adventures!
My sister, a good friend, and I went to a little country shop today in a sweet new Ford pickup. I'm not a country girl, but I could mix it up every once in awhile. It's funny how I used to swear off country music, camo, and anything with a twang. Now, I want to go shooting, buy a knife, and I even appreciate country music when it's on in the car. There's a season for everything, and I obviously needed to open my mind to all of the different lifestyles out there. It's far more fulfilling to see the beauty in unfamiliar things than to criticize them without dipping a foot into the water.
This is why I want to travel the world. There is so much to learn from everybody else. Ideally, I want to find a career that allows me to do this, but I have no idea what would cater to my desires and utilize all of my intelligence. I hope I figure it out soon because it's stressing me out, and I don't want to be in undergraduate school longer than I have to. Eh, first world problems. I'm just waiting for it to slap me upside the head so I can lay out a career. I'm glad I have the decision to do whatever I want, but I hate actually sticking to one. I just don't want to hate my job when I'm older. I have a general plan but no details - like piecing together the border of a puzzle, but the inside pieces are still strewn about the table. I'll get there, though. That's what they say, anyway.
I have one more complaint about life, and then I'll hush up for the night. I have had killer back pain. Seriously, I have the spine of a ninety-year-old, not a nineteen-year-old. Herniated discs are no joke. There is no cure unless I get surgery, and, being a first-class passenger on the Strugglebus, I have the rarest kind of herniation so the pain will never go away. Even if surgery was performed, there is a 25% chance that it will re-herniate, and I'll be back at square one. Worth it? Nah, not yet anyway. The surgeon said most patients' pain subsides after about six months, but I was an exception once again. Maybe I'll get surgery next year; knowing my procrastination, it'll be another ten years.
On the bright side, I'm still fully functioning and had a wonderful day today. It's time for some Mexican food - fresh out of the kitchen - and a good workout (last day of my squat challenge!). If you're on the Strugglebus daily like me, just remember: there's a Strugglebus even shoddier than yours.
Saturday, June 1, 2013
T-Minus 18 Days
It seems like just yesterday my trip was barely an idea. It's kind of funny how it all began now that I think about it. I always wanted to experience the world, but never really intended to during college. I expected to be another broke college student living off of Ramen noodles in a stuffy room. Luckily, I haven't undergone such hardships. Work hard in high school kids because scholarships are a saving grace. Now, back to how I decided to study abroad:
The first event occurred when I had to attend a study abroad fair for a pre-med informational class I was taking. I needed credit and absolutely dreaded going to this thing. The instructors said to stay for an hour, but I knew it wasn't supervised and who am I kidding? No one ever stays for the required time anyway. So, I intended to power walk through the tables and dip out the first chance I got. Of course, things didn't quite turn out the way I planned.
I had just gotten out of class, and it was sweltering outside, where the fair was, of course. I sighed and headed down the aisle of decorated tables; I could hardly see where they ended. Since I had to write about my "experience", I was forced to talk to some of the representatives. However, something magical happened. I met the love of my life. Ha! Just kidding, but I did find something I love. These sharks had reeled me in, and I actually considered studying abroad. I believe I spent an entire hour there, maybe even more so, learning about another student's adventures in Italy, opportunities at Cambridge, a semester in Australia. The possibilities were endless. I returned to my dorm with a handful of pamphlets and a small gear turning in my mind.
The second event that led me to studying abroad was a project for my anthropology class during my first semester - one of those horrendous ten-page papers where you have to interview strangers about a lame topic. It was one of those projects that is especially painful for people like myself who feel like their disrupting people's days for a few stupid questions for some class they hate. After battling my introversion and contacting a few people, I unintentionally found myself in the Study Abroad Office. I set up an interview with someone in the workplace and begrudgingly headed up to it a few days later. Nonetheless, I had a wonderful time hearing about this young woman's experience in so many countries. I could just sit and listen for days if I could. Again, this was not what I was expecting, and when I admitted I was considering it, she encouraged me wholeheartedly to go for it.
I let the idea tinker around some more, weighed the costs, and narrowed my options down to two programs - Italy and Ireland. I asked friends, stared at the pamphlets relentlessly, and finally realized why Italia was the best option (considering the cost was nearly the same for each). Food. What is that boot notorious for? Only my favorite thing! Also, it's very tourist friendly, and that's kind of important for someone who's never left the motherland. Sad, I know, but I think I made the right choice.
How did London and Paris get thrown in there? Fun. If I'm going out of the country, I might as well make it count. The flights were also the cheapest to book. However, they're turning out to be... I wouldn't say a poor decision, but are taking unnecessarily arduous planning. Things will pull together, I'm sure. Prayers would be much appreciated. And money. Mostly prayers, though, since I don't expect cash to flow my way anytime soon. Darn Past Me did not budget right! I swear I have a lifetime pass on the Strugglebus.
The first event occurred when I had to attend a study abroad fair for a pre-med informational class I was taking. I needed credit and absolutely dreaded going to this thing. The instructors said to stay for an hour, but I knew it wasn't supervised and who am I kidding? No one ever stays for the required time anyway. So, I intended to power walk through the tables and dip out the first chance I got. Of course, things didn't quite turn out the way I planned.
I had just gotten out of class, and it was sweltering outside, where the fair was, of course. I sighed and headed down the aisle of decorated tables; I could hardly see where they ended. Since I had to write about my "experience", I was forced to talk to some of the representatives. However, something magical happened. I met the love of my life. Ha! Just kidding, but I did find something I love. These sharks had reeled me in, and I actually considered studying abroad. I believe I spent an entire hour there, maybe even more so, learning about another student's adventures in Italy, opportunities at Cambridge, a semester in Australia. The possibilities were endless. I returned to my dorm with a handful of pamphlets and a small gear turning in my mind.
The second event that led me to studying abroad was a project for my anthropology class during my first semester - one of those horrendous ten-page papers where you have to interview strangers about a lame topic. It was one of those projects that is especially painful for people like myself who feel like their disrupting people's days for a few stupid questions for some class they hate. After battling my introversion and contacting a few people, I unintentionally found myself in the Study Abroad Office. I set up an interview with someone in the workplace and begrudgingly headed up to it a few days later. Nonetheless, I had a wonderful time hearing about this young woman's experience in so many countries. I could just sit and listen for days if I could. Again, this was not what I was expecting, and when I admitted I was considering it, she encouraged me wholeheartedly to go for it.
I let the idea tinker around some more, weighed the costs, and narrowed my options down to two programs - Italy and Ireland. I asked friends, stared at the pamphlets relentlessly, and finally realized why Italia was the best option (considering the cost was nearly the same for each). Food. What is that boot notorious for? Only my favorite thing! Also, it's very tourist friendly, and that's kind of important for someone who's never left the motherland. Sad, I know, but I think I made the right choice.
How did London and Paris get thrown in there? Fun. If I'm going out of the country, I might as well make it count. The flights were also the cheapest to book. However, they're turning out to be... I wouldn't say a poor decision, but are taking unnecessarily arduous planning. Things will pull together, I'm sure. Prayers would be much appreciated. And money. Mostly prayers, though, since I don't expect cash to flow my way anytime soon. Darn Past Me did not budget right! I swear I have a lifetime pass on the Strugglebus.
Thursday, May 30, 2013
T-Minus 19 Days
In just under 3 weeks, I will be off to start my adventures overseas. I still don't have a Paris hostel booked, and I should probably do that this week so I'm not stranded somewhere. I definitely should have budgeted better over the course of the year. What can ya do?
Speaking of course or courses, I can't get into one of the photography classes I asked to switch into (story of my life), so I'm either stuck in the Italian cuisine class I signed up for or I'm going to have to pray like mad to get into another one. I love to cook, but I really don't want to get up at 9:30 in the morning after being out late and possibly hungover, put on a fluffy hat, and run around like I'm on Top Chef. Please let their be an Italian I class open. Per favore?
On the topic of food, I went to St. Pete Beach this weekend and had a lovely time. I jet-skied for the first time since I was a tot, hit a five-footer, and flew off like a champ. However, I did lose my favorite pair of sunglasses. The poor things are always victim to the water. Rats. Anyway, back to food. A few friends and I searched for a solid place for dinner after hours of splashing around in the sun and found a hole in the wall resembling a submarine 5 & Diner. The parking lot was fairly empty, and the shiny aluminum craft, I was sure, would be perfect for a few glorious burgers for a few beach bums. I opened the door to find a small, lavish restaurant with wines galore, intimate lighting, a party of about twelve and older guests dabbing their mouths daintily in cushioned booths. I peered back at my friends, thinking we must have stepped into the Twilight Zone. We asked the host if we were underdressed, but he quickly shooed the idea away and led us to a table nearby.
Instead of a burger, I decided to order a - shoot, I always forget the names of things no matter how simple - fish sandwich. The word Galapagos keeps running through my head, but that is completely irrelevant. Trouter...Grouper! A grouper sandwich. Trouter isn't even a word. Lord help me. Anyway, I had my grouper sandwich, and another friend ordered this incredible burger with a knife jabbed into the center. It raised quite a fuss with a few diners from the party, and they asked to snap a few photos of it. We didn't mind, of course, and agreed it certainly looked stellar. Unfortunately, he had some childish meltdown (something about a movie ticket going to waste because we wouldn't be back in town in time), left the restaurant claiming to use the men's room, and disappeared for the rest of dinner. Too bad for him, we only took two cars, neither of which were his, forcing him to twiddle his thumbs while we took our sweet time. God bless that waiter for being understanding and taking the food off the bill. Our friend wasn't so lucky as he got quite a lecture from the four of us responsible adults. Hopefully, he learned, but there's no knowing with people of that nature.
He's not a bad guy, and he apologized for his behavior. My resentment subsided after a few hours, but I'm still disappointed. It seems he's the type to have had a lack of discipline and lot of luck in his life. He's one of those characters you meet only a few times in life where sheer luck has gotten him by, and an attitude adjustment always seems just out of reach. It's peculiar. If I behaved this way, I'd have a hell of a time getting through life. I don't really believe in luck, but I do believe everyone has some sort of unique equilibrium, that, when disturbed, leads to a series of tumultuous events. I am always on the strugglebus, for instance. There is always a small blemish on everything beautiful that happens in my life. I tend toward some pessimism, and it certainly sounds like a defining characteristic of mine, but I wouldn't consider myself so. It's just the way my life goes.
Speaking of course or courses, I can't get into one of the photography classes I asked to switch into (story of my life), so I'm either stuck in the Italian cuisine class I signed up for or I'm going to have to pray like mad to get into another one. I love to cook, but I really don't want to get up at 9:30 in the morning after being out late and possibly hungover, put on a fluffy hat, and run around like I'm on Top Chef. Please let their be an Italian I class open. Per favore?
On the topic of food, I went to St. Pete Beach this weekend and had a lovely time. I jet-skied for the first time since I was a tot, hit a five-footer, and flew off like a champ. However, I did lose my favorite pair of sunglasses. The poor things are always victim to the water. Rats. Anyway, back to food. A few friends and I searched for a solid place for dinner after hours of splashing around in the sun and found a hole in the wall resembling a submarine 5 & Diner. The parking lot was fairly empty, and the shiny aluminum craft, I was sure, would be perfect for a few glorious burgers for a few beach bums. I opened the door to find a small, lavish restaurant with wines galore, intimate lighting, a party of about twelve and older guests dabbing their mouths daintily in cushioned booths. I peered back at my friends, thinking we must have stepped into the Twilight Zone. We asked the host if we were underdressed, but he quickly shooed the idea away and led us to a table nearby.
Instead of a burger, I decided to order a - shoot, I always forget the names of things no matter how simple - fish sandwich. The word Galapagos keeps running through my head, but that is completely irrelevant. Trouter...Grouper! A grouper sandwich. Trouter isn't even a word. Lord help me. Anyway, I had my grouper sandwich, and another friend ordered this incredible burger with a knife jabbed into the center. It raised quite a fuss with a few diners from the party, and they asked to snap a few photos of it. We didn't mind, of course, and agreed it certainly looked stellar. Unfortunately, he had some childish meltdown (something about a movie ticket going to waste because we wouldn't be back in town in time), left the restaurant claiming to use the men's room, and disappeared for the rest of dinner. Too bad for him, we only took two cars, neither of which were his, forcing him to twiddle his thumbs while we took our sweet time. God bless that waiter for being understanding and taking the food off the bill. Our friend wasn't so lucky as he got quite a lecture from the four of us responsible adults. Hopefully, he learned, but there's no knowing with people of that nature.
He's not a bad guy, and he apologized for his behavior. My resentment subsided after a few hours, but I'm still disappointed. It seems he's the type to have had a lack of discipline and lot of luck in his life. He's one of those characters you meet only a few times in life where sheer luck has gotten him by, and an attitude adjustment always seems just out of reach. It's peculiar. If I behaved this way, I'd have a hell of a time getting through life. I don't really believe in luck, but I do believe everyone has some sort of unique equilibrium, that, when disturbed, leads to a series of tumultuous events. I am always on the strugglebus, for instance. There is always a small blemish on everything beautiful that happens in my life. I tend toward some pessimism, and it certainly sounds like a defining characteristic of mine, but I wouldn't consider myself so. It's just the way my life goes.
Wednesday, May 22, 2013
Omelet Fail
So, I'm making myself a wonderful omelet. It smells delicious, looks delicious, and I'm preparing for the flip. I know what a turd nugget I am so I decide to use a plate to flip it (almost always foolproof). Leave it to me to be the fool and find a crumpled omelet in the pan. Clearly, I need to take some lessons from the experts in the dining hall.
By the way, I still ate it, and it was still delicious. A true glutton never wastes food.
By the way, I still ate it, and it was still delicious. A true glutton never wastes food.
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