FINALS WEEK: The Final Hurtle

Finals are in full swing now so it's been a while since I posted.

I'm currently sitting in the library, taking a break from a huge take-home final for my Teaching English as a Second Language class (TESOL). I just wrote 6 pages (of pure brilliance constructed from bullshit) and am now chugging an energy drink in an attempt to gain back enough energy to write at least another 3 pages.

There's no question that the library is the least distracting place for me to study (no TV, no beds to nap in, no food to eat) and I am at the peak of my productivity here...but it is so depressing. At least around finals time.

The stress from all the students cramming for finals is palpable. The person beside me is nervously typing away at the computer and some people across the room are frantically flipping through pages of textbooks that look like they have to be at least 500 pages thick.

Alright, back to discussing the importance of motivation in language students and how one can incorporate the internet into lesson plans.
Wish me luck - I need it.

Going to Italy!

I finally bought my plane ticket to go to Italy the other day!

I am so incredibly excited to study there for the entirety of next year. I will be flying into Florence and then taking a bus to Siena (about a 30 minute ride).

Now I speak absolutely no Italian - that is the whole point of me going there: to learn the language. All my classes there will be Italian language and culture classes. While this doesn't fulfill anything for my GE's or degree requirements, I am far enough ahead in my studies that I can afford to essentially take a year off my real studies and still graduate on time.

I am, however, a little apprehensive about flying into a country where I don't know the language and then finding my way to Siena. But I have been in contact with other people from my program and we will meet up in Florence after my flight and then combat the language barrier together.

Now starts all the list making.

I love love love to make lists. So here is a quick list of all the lists I am going to need to make before I go:

1. What clothes to bring
2. What cosmetics to bring
3. What toiletries to bring
4. Stuff I need to buy once I'm there
5. Important papers/documents to bring
6. Which shoes to bring
7. All the places in Europe I want to travel to
8. What electronics to bring
9. Contact info for emergency situations
10. Useful Italian phrases
11. Miscellaneous items to bring

So much to do, so little time.

Slowing Down

I am sick.

UGH.

I have been so busy running from place to place, doing various activities that when I contracted this cough a few days ago, it hit me hard. Now, I love to be lazy. Isn't that the usual nature of college students? But I cannot be properly lazy and relaxed if I feel there is work that needs to be done and places I need to go.

This week I have had to constantly remind myself that if I don't show up for a class one day or I end up canceling some plans with a friend, it will not be the end of the world.

Also, I finally received my long-awaited lens yesterday for my new camera - but I have been unable to go outside and take some lovely pictures due to this icky cough. So depressing.

I like to think that the universe is trying to tell me something. It's trying to say "Slow down, Taylor. For heavens sake, SLOW DOWN!"

I'm trying to listen, Universe, I promise.

Even in trying to study for midterms I manage to attract the oddest people to me

Yesterday, with the threat of a nasty German midterm looming over my head, I went to the library to study. As I walked into the library, a little old man looked at me and said something. I couldn’t hear him because I had my headphones on. I turned off my music and he repeated what he had said: “What are you smiling about?”
Now, I love spontaneously talking to random people about random things - it makes life more interesting - so it's no surprise that this simple question spurred on a 15 minute conversation near the entrance of the building. It went something like this:

“What are you smiling about?”
“Oh, I don’t really know. Today is just a good day.”
With a knowing smile he says “and by that, you mean your boyfriend is being good to you.”
“No…I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“Good! A girl like you doesn’t want a boyfriend. You want a male companion. And I should know. I’m a marriage counselor. Take it from me. My wife and I just got married…55 years ago!”
(At this point in my head I’m thinking what the hell constitutes a ‘male companion’.)
The old man continues on and says "Let me ask you something, hun. What do you want out of life?"
I gave him the most honest answer I could think of. "I just want to be happy."
He laughs and says "Well with your personality, you'll get far in life. Here take, my card."
(this is where it gets creepy)
He reaches into his pocket while saying "send me an email and my wife and I will take you and some of your girlfriends out to dinner one night and I can teach you everything I know. Oh but don't let the staff here see you take this card from me. I've been thrown out of three churches for this sort of thing. They don't like me telling people they can be happy."
At this point I'm incredibly intrigued as to what could be on his card that would result in him being thrown out of churches, but if there hadn't been a ton of students walking past us I would have felt somewhat apprehensive about talking to this man.
He hands me his card and continues talking to me like he's not some creepy old guy hanging out on a college campus, preying on unsuspecting young women: "Believe me, its my personality and love for God that got me this far in life. I retired at 45!"
Oooh, this makes sense now. He's trying to sell his faith.
I take his card and put it in my pocket.
"I'm a christian man," he says. "How about you? Are you Christian? or Jewish?"
Damn, is my Jewish ancestry really THAT obvious?
"I'm spiritual, but I don't follow any religion."
He laughs and says "well I can teach you everything you need to know to succeed in life. Just send me an email. Bless you hun, I love ya."
"Alright...bye." I say, nervously backing away.

As soon as I'm a safe distance away from him, I take his card out of my pocket and read it. It has some short poems and lines on it concerning "True Love" and "Abstinence". Basically its a card full of Christian propaganda. I laugh to myself, making note to NEVER email this man. But that's when I realize...there's no email (or phone number or address or any sort of way to contact the guy) on this business card.
What the hell?

Enligtenment is just a couple reincarnations away

I remain unconvinced that the Dalai Lama is just a person like me. Contrary to what he said in his talks that I listened to today, I think that when someone reaches enlightenment, they cease to be different from the normal human being. Being able to feel only compassion for people who want to kill you seems a little God-like to me.

Regardless of whether the Dalai Lama is human or not, I do think everyone could learn a lot from his teachings. I’ve been a fan of his philosophies for years and hearing him speak this morning was a treat. If only everyone were willing to put aside their trivial differences, open their hearts to their fellow human beings, and feel compassion for others, the world would most definitely be a better place…is an overnight spiritual revolution too much to ask of humanity?

I must say, I was pleasantly surprised when I found out that thousands of students here were interested in hearing him speak. Perhaps there is more common sense and decency here than meets the eye.

After his speeches were done, I sat in meditation for a few minutes in an attempt to sort out some of my own emotional issues and hopefully get a little bit closer to nirvana. Needless to say I remain unenlightened, but I think I’m making some progress.

One midterm short of a heart attack

In an hour I have a midterm that counts for 25% of my grade in the class. I feel horribly unprepared even though I have studied to the best of my ability for it. I don’t think I’ve ever felt confident going into a test of any sort – I always fear for the worst. More often than not this fear has served me well. I study more than I need to for tests, always feeling like I could have a better grasp on the material ; as a result I end up with A’s and B’s.

However, I can feel this habitual stress wearing down on my body and my health. My stomach does flip-flops before any sort of exam. However, I don’t mind giving presentations or writing term papers because those tasks are designed to let me plan ahead and perfect the assignment before it is actually due. But tests challenge me to think of the spot and recall from memory. I don’t have the comfort and luxury of referring back to notes or a textbook.

In a way I envy the majority of the students around me who studied for an hour or so and, upon sitting down in class before a test, don’t seem at all intimidated by the fact that very shortly they’ll be expected to answer 100 questions in 50 minutes. Of course in these situations I want to do well and am glad I studied, but the idea that someone could actually feel prepared for a test and not have a nervous stomach ache just seems too surreal for an over achiever like me.

After this test, I’m done with class for the week. Finally…I am in serious need of some relaxation.

Party Town

This town is a noisy one. Friday evening rolls around and you can forget about having a quiet evening in and watching a movie in the peace of your own apartment because outside – not only in your apartment complex but for a quarter of a mile radius – all hell is breaking loose. A twenty person game of beer pong is taking place next-door, a techno dance party from the floor above causes your head to pound with the unnecessarily loud bass, and drunken students in the street break out into a fight below your window, all the while screaming obscenities and smashing empty beer bottles on the ground. After somehow finding a way to relax and fall asleep amongst all this mayhem, you awake in the morning to see that the usual beer cans floating in the pool are accompanied by three bikes and a lawn chair. Weekends like this force me to ask myself the question: what the hell am I doing at this school?

I’m not the typical college girl. At least not the kind of girl you’d find here at one of the biggest party schools in the nation. I’m full of these ridiculous things called “morals” and would rather read a book than go out to a party and drink until I pass out, throw up, or lose all my common sense. That’s not to say I don’t enjoy going out and being social, but this backdrop of a carefree life of alcohol and sex isn’t exactly my scene.

So what am I doing at this school? Wouldn’t I be better off at a school where the student body places more importance on intellect than how many shots of vodka one can take? Yes and no. I originally came here because I did not get into Stanford or Berkeley. This was a safety school for me. I often find myself thinking that had I applied to other schools or gone to a university that was in a more cultured and diverse city I would be happier and have more mental stimulation. But, against all odds, I have come to love this school and the life I have created for myself here. I have friends I love and an exciting life I am proud of. Had it not been for the extreme environment here, I doubt that I would have become the person I am today.

So even though the partiers in the street disturb my sleep multiple times a week, I have to love them for teaching me exactly who I am and who I don’t want to be.