The Freshman Experiment

Music: Cat Power – Sea of Love

The worst thing in the world may be having a bunch of guys spending hours in front of the TV playing awful videogames, along with smelling up the bathrooms and having really unfriendly personalities. I love my room, I love that the DeniseGirls are on my floor, but I CANNOT take the other people who live here.

I guess I’ll have to suck it up.

Music: The Cure – A Letter to Elise

The expression I’m packing up my life is really misleading when you think about it because, in reality, all of the things that make up our lives cannot be shoved down into suitcases. Sure, I’ve been folding clothes and gathering up my toiletries and meticulously rolling up posters for the past four days, but to claim that all of this makes up my life seems really inane.

I guess this leads to me to the question of where is my life and how do I get it into my luggage? The sad truth is that everything I wish to bring with me isn’t tangible. If I could gently pick up the tiny moments Spaz and I had over this summer and put it in my duffel bag I would. In the three months we were home, we’ve grown incredibly close to each other and she’s one of the few high school friends I believe will be in my life years from now.

I wish there was a way to catch the sound of my baby niece’s laugh and place it inside a storage bin to take with me. She has only been in our lives for two years but the love I have for her is incredible and infinite, and she’s done nothing except exist and explore the world right in front of me. I also wish I could wrap up the feel of Mamajay’s hand on my back when she comforts me because I’m sure I’ll need that touch at some point this year and it’ll kill me to know that it’s over five hours away.

There are so many other experiences, moments, and sensations that I hopelessly want to bottle up but can’t. I felt this exact urge in May when I finished the year and wondered how I could take TK and the DeniseGirls home with me. I feel like I’m not packing up my life, rather I’m packing to go back to life, another life. College and home are the only places where I’ve created bundles of memories that nurse and cradle me when I’m there. Anywhere else I feel empty and unsheathed.

Music: MGMT – Kids

Two terrible things have just occurred:

1) I just found out that my college now delivers groceries to your dorm. That’s right, folks. I can order as much PB&J, rice cakes, ramen noodles, Cap’n Crunch, and Hershey’s chocolate as I want online and have it outside my door every Wednesday. I simultaneously cried and bounced around in jubilation when I heard this. I am concerned about the new form of laziness that will undoubtedly overtake me once I use this service, but how fucking amazing will it be to have a brown bag of groceries all for me when I come home from library at 2 am!?

2) Out of a need to milk as much time out of Mamajay as I can before I leave on Saturday I am going with her to the first football game of my high school on Friday. My first thought was my mom! Hot dogs! And two hours of boys crashing into each other! Sounds great! Unfortunately, I remembered too late that these games involve small talk with old teachers who I never really liked, awkwardly seeing someone from my graduating class and trying to avert eye-contact the whole time, and getting ketchup and mustard all over the front of my shirt which, yes, will happen no matter how carefully I eat the hotdog. What did I agree to! Ahh, hopefully if I wear a hat and leave right after halftime I can get through the night without feeling like an ass. But I never get that lucky.

After reading over this I can see that these things aren’t that bad…not as bad as the passport photo I took yesterday at CVS at least. I look like I’m trying really hard not to laugh, and so the giggle is building up inside my mouth and pushing against my cheeks. Actually, I just look like a slightly inebriated puffer fish. Go, me.

Music: The Wombats – Let’s Dance to Joy Division

I was packing all of my toiletries and hygienic stuff today when I noticed that I have very little make-up. I looked up at myself in the mirror and just thought “you are not feminine.” Now I don’t doubt that I’m a girl, I promise I have all the anatomical parts that separate me from males, but in terms of the qualities that fall under the word “Feminine” I possess very little of those characteristics.

For instance, make-up has proven to be my one, true foe in life. The first time I put on mascara was in sixth grade when obnoxious eyeshadow and caked on foundation was the look all girls had in middle school. Reluctantly I bought my first tube of mascara, but a half hour after I put it on my lashes, it felt like my eyes were being flushed with hot water. I started scratching until my eyelids swelled and itchy, hive-like dots decorated my face. Ever since that traumatic allergic reaction I use mascara sparingly. I think the only time I wore it last year was for my birthday party and no one had gotten a chance to see it anyway because I got too drunk and wound up falling asleep at 11. The only thing I habitually put on my face besides soap and water is chapstick.

There is another thing that distinguishes me from the girly girls, and that’s BOYS. Sadly, all of the girls in my high school were boy-crazed. It was always “who am I going to hook up with tonight??” or “I wonder how I’m going to make So-and-so like me.” I never actively pursued someone which could be attributed to laziness more than anything else. The boys I hung out with and dated in high school had liked me for literally years before they mustered up the courage to ask me out. If they hadn’t gotten their acts together then I would’ve never known they liked me. It’s not that I ignore boys, it’s just they have never been a high priority. Even when I was in a relationship I never got too swept up by the all the love; I never made outlandish comments like we’re going to get married. I always knew that they were temporary relationships and I enjoyed them. Personally, I want to live a whole life before I meet my husband – pay my own bills, live alone in my own apartment, become successful on my own accord.

Food is also another divider. Too many of my girl friends are constantly worrying about calories and fat and all this other appetite-suppressing talk. I don’t eat myself into a coma but I do love food and I eat what I want when I want and I never feel guilty about it. Seriously. There have been days when I eat cheeseburgers and then a few hours later I’m happily gobbling an ice-cream sundae drowning in chocolate syrup. I mostly eat healthily but it’s not a conscious decision, it’s just that thankfully a lot of the foods I love are generally good for me (at school you can catch me eating lettuce dipped into basil vinaigrette dressing. Mmm, so delicious). My big philosophy is you’ve got one life, girl, so if you wanna have a brownie then have a brownie!

I once read this article or book, I forget, that basically said while we only have two sexes – male and female – we have multiple genders from Girly girls to Tomboys to Manly Men and so on. I’m sure there are tons of girls like me who are severely lacking in the femininity department. We could just be a whole sub-set of “female!” I should start a Facebook group.

Or what if gender is fluid and we can pass through different ones during our lifetimes? Like, maybe when I’m 35 I’ll suddenly become make-up, boy and calorie-obsessed.

I really hope that doesn’t happen.

What do you think? Am I onto something here or am I just talking out of my ass?

Music: Radiohead – My Iron Lung

I wanted to get this really awesome, leopard print hair straightener at the thrift store today, but a bunch of old Betties spotted it and started ragging on “young girls” who foolishly put heat to their hair. I walked up and down the aisle a little more, waiting for them to leave but they kept harping on “the youth of today.” After ten minutes I wanted to yell at them and say “If I don’t straightener my hair it’ll look like a poodle set up house on my head, so get off it!”  Unfortunately, I got sidetracked and saw an amazing, butterfly chair with an awesome cushion. It’s perfect for the common room I share with the DeniseGirls so I quickly grabbed it for only $5. When I went back to the straightener I realized it was gone and surveyed the store, trying to find out who had snatched it. I didn’t see anyone but when I went up to pay for my chair I saw that one of the old ladies had run back into the store to buy it for herself! She kept telling the clerk it was for her granddaughter but she was asking a million questions about whether it hurt to use it. I was so angry.

The annoying thing about thrift stores is that when you see something great you have to get it right away because there is a strong chance that it won’t be there the next time. Once I go back to buy something and see that it’s disappeared, I convince myself that the new owner probably won’t appreciate it as much as I would have, and I go home sulking.

Sigh.

After I brought my chair home I went out with Spaz to the college and lay out on the lush, green lawn. This is normal for us except that it was freshmen orientation today, so we were watching the 2012ers play their name games and introduce themselves over and over. It was so funny and strange because we had to do the same thing last year. The new students were eyeing us and probably wondering why these two crazy girls were sitting around, quietly laughing to themselves. We were at the college for about 2 hours then we went back home. I took a long nap before being awakened by Nuzzler’s call. She’s leaving tomorrow morning for school, so Spaz and I went over her house to see her before she left. As much as I don’t want her to go, I’m realizing that saying goodbye has gotten a lot easier. Last summer I was a pile of tears but this time I hugged Nuzzler and told her I’d most likely see her in October when I visit.

We helped pack her van and now I’m back in my room, trying to pack up my own things. I’ve done at least 150 pounds of laundry and my arms hurt from folding for hours on end (I’m really out of shape!). I’m taking a ridiculous amount of stuff with me but I swear I need it all! Well, maybe I don’t need to bring an entire duffel bag with books labeled “Recreational Reading” because, let’s face it, once the semester starts I won’t be doing any reading for pleasure. I just can’t bear to leave them at home, collecting dust.