I have to admit, I wasn't looking forward to reading Cloaked by Alex Flinn. She's not my favorite author, and the plot seemed too haphazard to enjoy. But, out of my loyalty to the fairy tale genre, I read it anyways, and I wasn't impressed.
First of all, the writing is bland. Flinn tries a little too hard to write like a teenage boy. I appreciate her dedication to staying in character, but that doesn't mean you have to sacrifice style. There's no color or flavor to the language. Scenes that should have been gripping or nail-biting floated on drab words and passed by like a mild breeze.
What got me through those first boring chapters is the likability of the protagonist, Johnny. However, most of the other characters, especially the supporting characters, are two-dimensional. It was a shame to see some personalities that could be interesting as flat and cliched. Personally, I found the French accents (all the th's replaced with z's) irritating. I couldn't take any character with an accent seriously--all i could think of when one of them spoke was of the French peas in VeggeTales. It added an unintended silliness to their character that I just couldn't overcome.
Just as I suspected, the story flies all over the place. In an effort to include as many fairy tales as possible, Flinn jumps from subplot to subplot, never really focusing on one particular item long enough for the reader to become invested in it. It doesn't help that most of the tales she uses are so obscure that the reader will have no previous emotional attachment to them. Also, I believe some of the fairy tales should have been modified to be more believable (particularly "The Six Swans"), which Flinn is usually better at. Aside from the sporadic fairy tales, the plot was unexciting and predictable. It was anticlimactic where it should have been intense, and overindulgent where Flinn should have let things go. The end dragged on forever.
Cloaked was definitely my least favorite of Flinn's fairy tale series. I like the idea of bringing several old folk tales together, but she's better at developing just one at a time (Beastly, A Kiss in Time). But, don't get a bad taste for her just because of this review--the book is one flop in a series of good good modern-day fairy tales. I still look forward to what she writes in the future.
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Monster
I didn't realize it until just now, when I saw an old photo of her.
I thought she was someone else.
I had to do a double-take before I went back to examine the image, and sure enough, it was her.
All those years ago.
I can't even picture her that way any more.
Back when we were the best of friends.
And now I realize.
You're not that same person anymore.
I couldn't tell you who that other person was.
The one smiling back at me from the photos.
My memory of her is blurred and distorted by the person who now stands before me.
Streaks of dark eyeliner now mar that face that used to be so bright and beautiful.
I do remember, though, exactly what happened, how you transformed, how you changed.
How you stabbed us in the back, how you tore us all apart.
It still hurts to think about it.
And it hurts to see you now, what you've corroded into.
When I see you in class, I often think to myself,
"How could I ever have been friends with you?"
Now I see that I was never friends with you.
I was friends with her, the one whose skin you now walk in.
You're a monster.
You're not the girl I loved.
Sometimes I still want her back.
But I'm still so angry at you, and you've stolen her face.
I can't look at it anymore, especially after what you've done to it.
I hate you.
But now I realize that I can't hate her.
Maybe she let you in, but she could have never known how you'd devour her this way.
How you'd eat her soul and spit out poison in its place.
I hate you.
And because of you, I've lost her.
We all have.
Deep down, we all miss her.
Won't you bring her back?
Even for a moment.
Just to see that sparkle in her eye one last time.
Before we all go our separate ways.
Or will I even be able to look?
After what you've done to her?
You monster.
I thought she was someone else.
I had to do a double-take before I went back to examine the image, and sure enough, it was her.
All those years ago.
I can't even picture her that way any more.
Back when we were the best of friends.
And now I realize.
You're not that same person anymore.
I couldn't tell you who that other person was.
The one smiling back at me from the photos.
My memory of her is blurred and distorted by the person who now stands before me.
Streaks of dark eyeliner now mar that face that used to be so bright and beautiful.
I do remember, though, exactly what happened, how you transformed, how you changed.
How you stabbed us in the back, how you tore us all apart.
It still hurts to think about it.
And it hurts to see you now, what you've corroded into.
When I see you in class, I often think to myself,
"How could I ever have been friends with you?"
Now I see that I was never friends with you.
I was friends with her, the one whose skin you now walk in.
You're a monster.
You're not the girl I loved.
Sometimes I still want her back.
But I'm still so angry at you, and you've stolen her face.
I can't look at it anymore, especially after what you've done to it.
I hate you.
But now I realize that I can't hate her.
Maybe she let you in, but she could have never known how you'd devour her this way.
How you'd eat her soul and spit out poison in its place.
I hate you.
And because of you, I've lost her.
We all have.
Deep down, we all miss her.
Won't you bring her back?
Even for a moment.
Just to see that sparkle in her eye one last time.
Before we all go our separate ways.
Or will I even be able to look?
After what you've done to her?
You monster.
Sunday, April 17, 2011
An Adventure
Yesterday started as a fairly normal day. My parents were going to be at an all-day conference in town, so they woke me up early to tell me they were leaving and that my sister and I could go out and use their card for more or less whatever we wanted. After sleeping a couple more hours, I got up, ate a slow breakfast, and read while my sister played Harvest Moon on the Wii. Around noon, we decided it'd be a good time to head out. We decided to go to the mall.
We got there without any trouble, parked outside the food court, ate lunch, and went to almost every clothing and department store on a purse hunting mission. Afterwards, we sat in Barnes and Noble and flipped through an Avatar: The Last Airbender art book while sneaking peaks at an attractive college guy across the cafe. Outside, it was dark and windy. My sister had said something about a tornado watch that morning, and we overheard some employees worrying over what was going to happen. After three and a half hours at the mall, we figured it was time to get going.
It was pretty windy as we walked back to the car, and as we climbed in, it began to sprinkle. I could feel the wind rocking the car, and I had to adjust my steering wheel to stay in my own lane. Was the wind really this powerful? Still, the traffic wasn't so bad, and we made it to our neighborhood easily. Already, the huge nets that surround the driving range next to our neighborhood were torn and hanging. Just after we got home, it started to rain.
My sister and I tried to coax the puppy to go to the bathroom in the rain, but we didn't have any luck, so we took him inside. The power flickered, and it took a long time for the cable box to reboot. When it did, I found an old movie that I'd always wanted to watch, and we curled up with some snacks and relaxed. Our grandmother called to warn us about the storm, urging us to go into the powder room if anything were to happen. We smiled at each other as we assured her that we were all right, then resumed our movie. All the while, I noticed the wind and the rain growing louder outside.
With a pop, the electricity went out. This time, it didn't come back on. We had nothing to listen to but the storm outside, steadily growing louder. At first, it wasn't so bad--I ran upstairs and grabbed all the old scented candles from my room and began to light them. But the weather became frightening. Rain pounded the roof, and the wind made the windows creak and shudder. We put the puppy in his carrier so he wouldn't near the glass door. With the house shaking, we decided it would be best to sit in the bathroom for a while.
A huge gust of wind rocked the house, and suddenly the front door burst open, bringing the tempest roaring into our home. My sister screamed as I ran to shut it. I had to fight the wind in order to push it closed and deadbolt it. The doorknob had dented the plaster on the wall and there was water all over the floor. My sister threw a towel down, and we hurried into the powder room with the carrier and the candles. I made sure to grab my cell phone, but we weren't getting a signal. Outside, it started hailing. My sister was crying--she thought the cats were still outside. I did a quick pet check. The puppy was in the carrier, and all the cats were there near the powder room save for one who normally spends his day under the house. He should be fine, shouldn't he? I tried to comfort my sister as we waited out the worst of the storm.
As we waited, I lit the rest of the candles there in the bathroom. After a few minutes, the wind stopped. It was still raining, but not nearly so violently as before. We decided to venture back into the living room. None of the windows were damaged, no water had seeped in, and all the animals were fine. Tentatively, we brought the candles into the living room and settled back onto the couch, where we read with shaking hands as the darkest clouds finally passed over us.
It was growing lighter. For a minute, the sun even peaked out behind a thin veil of clouds. My sister went to look for a rainbow as I let the puppy out of his carrier. Neighbors were venturing out onto their porches. The whole neighborhood was without electricity. Still, we were safe, and comforted knowing that the storm was over. Just as we settled back down to read, I heard an annoying beeping noise. As my sister took the puppy outside, I climbed upstairs to investigate. It was the carbon monoxide alarm.
I felt fine--no headache, no fatigue. The animals were acting fine. In fact, they'd been calm through the whole ordeal. But, my sister complained of a headache. We opened the front door to let some fresh air in, and I called my dad's cellphone. He didn't pick up, but called back a few seconds later. I told him about the alarm. He told me to reset the carbon monoxide alarm. It was still beeping. I told him that we both felt fine, and that the alarm downstairs wasn't going off. My dad told me to go ahead and pull the battery out of the alarm, and that he and my mom would be home in about an hour. My sister was upset to hear that they'd be so long. In the mean time, people were beginning to call our cell phones and check on us. My sister spent a long time on the phone with her boyfriend.
Finally, our parents came home. My dad checked the carbon monoxide alarm and concluded that it was set off only a faulty battery. There was no threat of poison, but we were hungry. After taking our orders, Dad went out to Jersey Mike's while my mom, my sister, and I sat in the living room and talked. When, he came back, we all ate that the kitcehn table together. Then, we ate the last of the ice cream before it went bad. Finally, we wandered back into the living room. By now it was getting dark.
We found a few more candles and sat in a room illuminated by pinpricks of golden light. The ugliest candles had the most beautfiul flames. I honestly couldn't tell you what we did as we sat in the dark for an hour or more. We talked some, and made lazy suggestions about games to play or things to do while we waited for electricity. For the most part, I watched the candle nearest me as its flame floated in the airless room. Just watched.
In a flurry of clicks and whirrs, the lights burst into life again, and all the machinery resumed its normal business. My family cheered as they ran for their respective laptops and waited for the TV to reboot. Mom said I looked disappointed. I told her I liked the candles, and my sister ran around the room shamelessly blowing them all out in my face. The storm was over, and the calm was over. We resumed our normal lives, clicking away on our computers while a murder mystery droned in the background. My sister went to bed, and my dad fell asleep on the couch. When the murder show was over, I said goodnight to Mom and retired to my room.
It was a strange day, with such a normal beginning and ending. Today is bright and sunny and cold, as if the wheather was trying to trick us. Sure, there are flags thrown about, and a few distant trees down, but nothing more. It was as if nothing had ever happened...
We got there without any trouble, parked outside the food court, ate lunch, and went to almost every clothing and department store on a purse hunting mission. Afterwards, we sat in Barnes and Noble and flipped through an Avatar: The Last Airbender art book while sneaking peaks at an attractive college guy across the cafe. Outside, it was dark and windy. My sister had said something about a tornado watch that morning, and we overheard some employees worrying over what was going to happen. After three and a half hours at the mall, we figured it was time to get going.
It was pretty windy as we walked back to the car, and as we climbed in, it began to sprinkle. I could feel the wind rocking the car, and I had to adjust my steering wheel to stay in my own lane. Was the wind really this powerful? Still, the traffic wasn't so bad, and we made it to our neighborhood easily. Already, the huge nets that surround the driving range next to our neighborhood were torn and hanging. Just after we got home, it started to rain.
My sister and I tried to coax the puppy to go to the bathroom in the rain, but we didn't have any luck, so we took him inside. The power flickered, and it took a long time for the cable box to reboot. When it did, I found an old movie that I'd always wanted to watch, and we curled up with some snacks and relaxed. Our grandmother called to warn us about the storm, urging us to go into the powder room if anything were to happen. We smiled at each other as we assured her that we were all right, then resumed our movie. All the while, I noticed the wind and the rain growing louder outside.
With a pop, the electricity went out. This time, it didn't come back on. We had nothing to listen to but the storm outside, steadily growing louder. At first, it wasn't so bad--I ran upstairs and grabbed all the old scented candles from my room and began to light them. But the weather became frightening. Rain pounded the roof, and the wind made the windows creak and shudder. We put the puppy in his carrier so he wouldn't near the glass door. With the house shaking, we decided it would be best to sit in the bathroom for a while.
A huge gust of wind rocked the house, and suddenly the front door burst open, bringing the tempest roaring into our home. My sister screamed as I ran to shut it. I had to fight the wind in order to push it closed and deadbolt it. The doorknob had dented the plaster on the wall and there was water all over the floor. My sister threw a towel down, and we hurried into the powder room with the carrier and the candles. I made sure to grab my cell phone, but we weren't getting a signal. Outside, it started hailing. My sister was crying--she thought the cats were still outside. I did a quick pet check. The puppy was in the carrier, and all the cats were there near the powder room save for one who normally spends his day under the house. He should be fine, shouldn't he? I tried to comfort my sister as we waited out the worst of the storm.
As we waited, I lit the rest of the candles there in the bathroom. After a few minutes, the wind stopped. It was still raining, but not nearly so violently as before. We decided to venture back into the living room. None of the windows were damaged, no water had seeped in, and all the animals were fine. Tentatively, we brought the candles into the living room and settled back onto the couch, where we read with shaking hands as the darkest clouds finally passed over us.
It was growing lighter. For a minute, the sun even peaked out behind a thin veil of clouds. My sister went to look for a rainbow as I let the puppy out of his carrier. Neighbors were venturing out onto their porches. The whole neighborhood was without electricity. Still, we were safe, and comforted knowing that the storm was over. Just as we settled back down to read, I heard an annoying beeping noise. As my sister took the puppy outside, I climbed upstairs to investigate. It was the carbon monoxide alarm.
I felt fine--no headache, no fatigue. The animals were acting fine. In fact, they'd been calm through the whole ordeal. But, my sister complained of a headache. We opened the front door to let some fresh air in, and I called my dad's cellphone. He didn't pick up, but called back a few seconds later. I told him about the alarm. He told me to reset the carbon monoxide alarm. It was still beeping. I told him that we both felt fine, and that the alarm downstairs wasn't going off. My dad told me to go ahead and pull the battery out of the alarm, and that he and my mom would be home in about an hour. My sister was upset to hear that they'd be so long. In the mean time, people were beginning to call our cell phones and check on us. My sister spent a long time on the phone with her boyfriend.
Finally, our parents came home. My dad checked the carbon monoxide alarm and concluded that it was set off only a faulty battery. There was no threat of poison, but we were hungry. After taking our orders, Dad went out to Jersey Mike's while my mom, my sister, and I sat in the living room and talked. When, he came back, we all ate that the kitcehn table together. Then, we ate the last of the ice cream before it went bad. Finally, we wandered back into the living room. By now it was getting dark.
We found a few more candles and sat in a room illuminated by pinpricks of golden light. The ugliest candles had the most beautfiul flames. I honestly couldn't tell you what we did as we sat in the dark for an hour or more. We talked some, and made lazy suggestions about games to play or things to do while we waited for electricity. For the most part, I watched the candle nearest me as its flame floated in the airless room. Just watched.
In a flurry of clicks and whirrs, the lights burst into life again, and all the machinery resumed its normal business. My family cheered as they ran for their respective laptops and waited for the TV to reboot. Mom said I looked disappointed. I told her I liked the candles, and my sister ran around the room shamelessly blowing them all out in my face. The storm was over, and the calm was over. We resumed our normal lives, clicking away on our computers while a murder mystery droned in the background. My sister went to bed, and my dad fell asleep on the couch. When the murder show was over, I said goodnight to Mom and retired to my room.
It was a strange day, with such a normal beginning and ending. Today is bright and sunny and cold, as if the wheather was trying to trick us. Sure, there are flags thrown about, and a few distant trees down, but nothing more. It was as if nothing had ever happened...
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Animal Magnetism
After seventeen years consisting of two dogs, four cats, five hamsters, and multiple aquarium fish, I have come to the conclusion that I do not like animals. We just don't mix. My sister is great with animals--in fact, she's been compared to an angst-ridden Snow White. In my opinion, however, I have some irreparable complaints against the animal kingdom. Some are as follows:
1) They don't speak the human tongue. We just had a discussion in my English/Closet Philosophy class about how language is the key to communication and identity. It goes without saying, then, that there is a disjunction in communication between myself and the animal population, and therefore I cannot possibly identify with them and their personal problems. I don't care how much you sit whining and staring at me with your puppy dog eyes, if you can't tell me exactly what's wrong, I'm not going to help you.
2) They don't clean up after themselves. I don't want to shovel poop out of the sand for you, kitty. If you want to poop in a sandbox so badly, I suggest cleaning it yourself, or finding a bigger one in one of the neighbor's yards.Hamsters and fish, this goes for you as well.
3) They need feeding on a regular basis. I've survived about a fourth of my life without my mother feeding me, I think pets should be able to do the same. I'm a busy person; I don't have time to run around placing bread crumbs in your path. If you're hungry, forage, or hunt, or do whatever your species was actually bred to to.
4) They smell and they shed. What more do I need to say?
5) They leave you unwanted favors. No, no, I don't want the mole you caught, or the bird, or the rabbit, or the woodchuck, or the deer, or the Sasquatch, or anything you hunted down. I don't want it dead and bleeding on my carpet, and I don't want it alive and running around my house. I don't want it, period. Do whatever you like with it (hey, eat it!), as long as I don't see it. Dogs? Dogs are worse, they bring you slobbery toys or poop.
Those are just a few of the reasons I do not care for any species of the animal kingdom. All of the above could just as easily be applied to human babies, and I don't like them either. It's all in the personality, I guess, and mine is definitely short on "animal magnetism."
1) They don't speak the human tongue. We just had a discussion in my English/Closet Philosophy class about how language is the key to communication and identity. It goes without saying, then, that there is a disjunction in communication between myself and the animal population, and therefore I cannot possibly identify with them and their personal problems. I don't care how much you sit whining and staring at me with your puppy dog eyes, if you can't tell me exactly what's wrong, I'm not going to help you.
2) They don't clean up after themselves. I don't want to shovel poop out of the sand for you, kitty. If you want to poop in a sandbox so badly, I suggest cleaning it yourself, or finding a bigger one in one of the neighbor's yards.Hamsters and fish, this goes for you as well.
3) They need feeding on a regular basis. I've survived about a fourth of my life without my mother feeding me, I think pets should be able to do the same. I'm a busy person; I don't have time to run around placing bread crumbs in your path. If you're hungry, forage, or hunt, or do whatever your species was actually bred to to.
4) They smell and they shed. What more do I need to say?
5) They leave you unwanted favors. No, no, I don't want the mole you caught, or the bird, or the rabbit, or the woodchuck, or the deer, or the Sasquatch, or anything you hunted down. I don't want it dead and bleeding on my carpet, and I don't want it alive and running around my house. I don't want it, period. Do whatever you like with it (hey, eat it!), as long as I don't see it. Dogs? Dogs are worse, they bring you slobbery toys or poop.
Those are just a few of the reasons I do not care for any species of the animal kingdom. All of the above could just as easily be applied to human babies, and I don't like them either. It's all in the personality, I guess, and mine is definitely short on "animal magnetism."
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
Just the fumes of my 2011-2012 course registration angst.
“Haley,
Bible is a required class for every year of attendance at [school], so you can not drop Bible to pickup another elective. You will have to choose between Honors Spanish III and AP Psychology; both are good classes and will look good on your transcript… I think it comes down to which one you have more interest in.”
Oh, of course! How could I even be so twisted by the wiles of the Evil One to even suggest such a thingu? Get behind me, Satan!
After all, Bible is obviously the most important thing at our school, considering there are only four classes in the entire department and not enough teachers to cover even those four. Of course I have no freedom in choosing what type of biblical curriculum I would like to pursue, because my weak, naiive mind needs to imbimbe every last drop of indoctrination you can press into my brain before I’m thrown out into this dark, heathen world!
Besides, God is supposed to be a chore, a burden, a long, hard pursuit. As it says in his Holy Word, we are to take up our cross daily, for precisely fifty minutes of the academic school day, to learn all the facts we can about Him. We children are too spiritually blinded by our disentegrating culture to nurture our own, personal relationships with Him. We need an academic supervisor do be our go-between.
Plus, we are a Christian school, which means we have to take every shallow, half-assed, picturesque step we can to look like the perfect Christian school. We have to pray before every class, cut time out of academia to attend chapel once a week (in skirts and ties, no less!), and give every student the privelege and the blessing of going to Bible class. We should be grateful, because their are so many wayward Chrisitans out there in those public schools who have never even heard of such thing as a Bible class.
Therefore, I would like to recant for even posing such a rediculous question. Maybe I won’t get enough academic credits to get into my dream college, but I’m sure my four elective Bible credits will give me an edge at Liberty University. Thank you for rebuking me in the name of the LORD. Amen.
Bible is a required class for every year of attendance at [school], so you can not drop Bible to pickup another elective. You will have to choose between Honors Spanish III and AP Psychology; both are good classes and will look good on your transcript… I think it comes down to which one you have more interest in.”
Oh, of course! How could I even be so twisted by the wiles of the Evil One to even suggest such a thingu? Get behind me, Satan!
After all, Bible is obviously the most important thing at our school, considering there are only four classes in the entire department and not enough teachers to cover even those four. Of course I have no freedom in choosing what type of biblical curriculum I would like to pursue, because my weak, naiive mind needs to imbimbe every last drop of indoctrination you can press into my brain before I’m thrown out into this dark, heathen world!
Besides, God is supposed to be a chore, a burden, a long, hard pursuit. As it says in his Holy Word, we are to take up our cross daily, for precisely fifty minutes of the academic school day, to learn all the facts we can about Him. We children are too spiritually blinded by our disentegrating culture to nurture our own, personal relationships with Him. We need an academic supervisor do be our go-between.
Plus, we are a Christian school, which means we have to take every shallow, half-assed, picturesque step we can to look like the perfect Christian school. We have to pray before every class, cut time out of academia to attend chapel once a week (in skirts and ties, no less!), and give every student the privelege and the blessing of going to Bible class. We should be grateful, because their are so many wayward Chrisitans out there in those public schools who have never even heard of such thing as a Bible class.
Therefore, I would like to recant for even posing such a rediculous question. Maybe I won’t get enough academic credits to get into my dream college, but I’m sure my four elective Bible credits will give me an edge at Liberty University. Thank you for rebuking me in the name of the LORD. Amen.
Book Review--Unwind
I was looking forward to reading Neal Shusterman's Unwind on account of the fact that I knew Shusterman is a great writer, one of my favorites, in fact. Now, Unwind has earned its place among the sacred top bookshelf that hosts my favorite YA novels of all time.
The one drawback of Unwind is the unique yet sometimes distracting style of writing. As most dystopian novels are, it's written in present tense, which makes it a fast-paced, script-style read. Although it is in third person, it changes perspectives frequently between the characters. Every now and then, i would forget whose perspective I was reading in and would have to check back to the chapter heading to remind myself. However, it didn't take long to adjust to this style, and it made more sense as the book went on. Altogether, it was an infinitesimal problem.
Shusterman's characters are some of the most vivid and poignant I've read. In contrast with a society that sees a faceless crowd, each character sticks out and speaks in his own voice. they are beautiful in their imperfections, and experience dynamic growth and change throughout the story. Even the antagonists hold a special place in my heart.
At first the plot seems to impossible to believe, but through Shusterman's incredible storytelling, he makes you not only believe it, but feel it--the tension, the anxiety that the characters experience. I found myself rocking in my seat as my fingers twitched to turn the page. There were unexpected twists and turns, and the conflict brought forth thought-provoking issues such as the value of life and the definition of humanity. In the end, Unwind leaves you breathless.
The one drawback of Unwind is the unique yet sometimes distracting style of writing. As most dystopian novels are, it's written in present tense, which makes it a fast-paced, script-style read. Although it is in third person, it changes perspectives frequently between the characters. Every now and then, i would forget whose perspective I was reading in and would have to check back to the chapter heading to remind myself. However, it didn't take long to adjust to this style, and it made more sense as the book went on. Altogether, it was an infinitesimal problem.
Shusterman's characters are some of the most vivid and poignant I've read. In contrast with a society that sees a faceless crowd, each character sticks out and speaks in his own voice. they are beautiful in their imperfections, and experience dynamic growth and change throughout the story. Even the antagonists hold a special place in my heart.
At first the plot seems to impossible to believe, but through Shusterman's incredible storytelling, he makes you not only believe it, but feel it--the tension, the anxiety that the characters experience. I found myself rocking in my seat as my fingers twitched to turn the page. There were unexpected twists and turns, and the conflict brought forth thought-provoking issues such as the value of life and the definition of humanity. In the end, Unwind leaves you breathless.
Friday, April 8, 2011
UNCW
Today, I visited UNCW. I consider it my first college visit (since the first one was a total snooze), and now I'm pumped. It was great, everything about it was great. I loved the location, right near the beach. I loved the dorms, the different options you could have. I loved the amenities, the cafeteria, the free laundry service, the campus. THE CAMPUS!!! It's beautiful! It's not too big, but it's so secluded from the highway outside, and the main street is gorgeous. Everyone was biking, and now I want a bike so I can get around the campus.
That's it, that's why I loved it--I could see myself there. For the first time, I imagined myself as a college student. I could imagine what my day would be like, who I'd hang out with, what activities I'd be involved in. I could see myself going to the beach--which I never do--and spending time outside--which I also never do.
I just can't wait for the autonomy, the independence that comes with college life. I'll be starting fresh--I won't feel like I have to match anyone's expectations of me. I can create new expectations, better ones, ones that aren't left over from middle school or freshman year. I can be a new, better person.
I think I'm experiencing some early signs of senioritus.
My expectations are probably too high. I might not change much, and UNCW might not be all it's choked up to be After all, upon declaring my love for UNCW, I was corrected by several of my peers who were determined to make sure I knew that the Chapel Hill campus is far superior. Actaully, I'm going to UNC Chapel Hill in a couple of weeks, so I'll have to compare. I'm sure itwill be just as wonderful if not more so. What was most important is that I got a glimpse of college life, and now I'm looking forward to it.
That's it, that's why I loved it--I could see myself there. For the first time, I imagined myself as a college student. I could imagine what my day would be like, who I'd hang out with, what activities I'd be involved in. I could see myself going to the beach--which I never do--and spending time outside--which I also never do.
I just can't wait for the autonomy, the independence that comes with college life. I'll be starting fresh--I won't feel like I have to match anyone's expectations of me. I can create new expectations, better ones, ones that aren't left over from middle school or freshman year. I can be a new, better person.
I think I'm experiencing some early signs of senioritus.
My expectations are probably too high. I might not change much, and UNCW might not be all it's choked up to be After all, upon declaring my love for UNCW, I was corrected by several of my peers who were determined to make sure I knew that the Chapel Hill campus is far superior. Actaully, I'm going to UNC Chapel Hill in a couple of weeks, so I'll have to compare. I'm sure itwill be just as wonderful if not more so. What was most important is that I got a glimpse of college life, and now I'm looking forward to it.
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