To get this out of the way: I feel more or less obligated to write something retrospective, now that I'm home from my First Year of College. And I want to do it honestly; most of last year, to be frank, was a mess. I coped badly with being uprooted, and I was worn out from seven years of academic social striving. I didn't remember why I was doing it, which made it hard to do without parental compulsion. Through some combination of events (with the help of various friends and nice adults), I got myself under control, and I was even extraordinarily happy towards the end. I feel at a loss now, though, because I (myself in my normal state) hardly experienced a freshman year. Even when I was happy, I was in the throes of a strange overwhelming emotion that clouded judgment. By external standards, I guess I did fine: my GPA will not be a 4.0 (gasp!), but I think I can and will get rather close. I lost weight and acquired leg muscles, which is a novelty (I'm working on my arms this summer). Any sort of healthiness is a novelty.


Also, I obtained two summer jobs, versus zero for much of last summer. On Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, I'm editing a bi-monthly technical newsletter in McLean, VA. On Tuesday and Thursday, I'll be working as a store clerk/receptionist at Bethesda Academy of Performing Arts, where ideally there will be other teenagers to play with. The last time I worked for BAPA was three years ago, on a volunteer basis (this time it's for pay) - but I remember logging hours by sneaking off with two co-conspirator CITs to play the "penis game" (which involves saying the word "penis" progressively louder until someone gets embarrassed). When I return to campus, I'll have another Real Job to look forward to, as well as a new home with close friends, fairly firm plans to major in English - Twentieth Century Literature and Culture and European History, and no classes that start before noon. However much freshman year felt like a failure while it was happening, it seems to have set up my life next year to be fun, successful, stable, and interesting.


I remember walking home across the 38th Street bridge, a day or so before leaving for Maryland, and thinking that there was hardly anything I wanted badly and couldn't have. I want to join a choral ensemble, but I can probably manage that next year, especially if I put some of my summer salary toward voice lessons. I'd also like to fall in love with someone on campus, eventually, because that would certainly be less stressful and more convenient - but it's not a priority, more like a vague preference not to die alone. Whatever happens with Seth and me this summer, I strongly hope we don't do anything to make each other unhappy next year (which would probably happen if we kept going out over distance); that would be a shame, because he and I ought to be on the same side. Aside from those things, I feel honestly blessed - and I feel like a more focused, grounded, and capable version of myself than I was a year ago. I think the rest of my life is probably doable, as long as I bear in mind my own (many) limitations.

VISUALIZE SUCCESS
(but don't believe your eyes)

I had a final on Thursday and a paper due Friday at noon. In the process of accomplishing those two things, I stayed up for 61 hours. I didn't really have to do that, but forces kept conspiring against my body being healthy or sensible; for example, at one point I was too hungry to sleep, and the following day I was too sleepy to eat. After my ling final on Thursday, the world was golden. Wynn Commons was sunlit, and people were congregating at the little cafe tables all across the front of the Student Union and the back of College Hall - studying or chatting, making an appealing amount of noise. The street was blocked off for construction, so I took a woody and circuitous route home. I realized (though it was probably obvious before) that I've fallen in love with Penn, and now I pine for it. But: I was sloppy-looking, wobbly, a survivor of sleeplessness and testing, and concealing earplugs in my fist; I wore them to the final, which turned out to be a good idea, but I was too ashamed to let other people see what I'd done.


I got home to my cell, took a shower, and put on a tank top and skirt for my DP reporters' dinner. As always, clothing and cleanliness were enough to make me feel human, undoing some of the ridiculous and damaging things I'd been up to lately. We met at Pizza Rustica; I had complained ineffectually (because a local pizza place delivers for free to the DP every night in exchange for ad space), but the pizza was wonderful, and it was nice to see everyone again en masse. Particularly Garrett - everyone is obviously so grateful for how hard he's worked with us this semester. We gave him a present, and he gave each of us a box of chocolates and a note. Over dinner, Farouk expressed some horror that I hadn't started my ten-page Chinese history paper yet (due in maybe 15 hours).

Garrett, always chill, said, "That's plenty of time." I remember once he remarked distractedly, over editing, that he had a 40-page paper due in two days, that he should probably start.

After the meal, most people went drinking, but I didn't have the inclination or a fake ID. I walked home cradling my chocolates and finally began my paper, which I finished at 11:40 AM the next day. Following a harried rush to the library to print (my printer ran out of toner on page three of ten, because I am irresponsible), and more scrambling to College Hall, I deposited the paper at 12:03; both my professor and my TA looked nonplussed at my blatant panic. Then, my parents arrived to help me tear down my room, and I was back in Maryland by 9:00 PM. My month-long happiness seems to have dissipated now that I'm home, and the vague pressure in my temples is back; but I'm not overtly unhappy, and maybe I'll reclaim it when I return to Penn in four months - or, ideally, it'll come back over the summer.