Seniority rules

It seems like just yesterday I too was one of those babyfaced 90 lb freshmen. I remember I called my parents crying approximately four hours after they dropped me off, begging them to come back and get me— all in light of Frosh-O activities, which led me to believe Notre Dame was the lamest place in the world. Freshmen year was over in like four minutes, as was sophomore year. Junior year was an overwhelmingly surreal blend of travel, siesta and sangria and boom here I am back to reality. Well, not exactly. Our house is two people away from a brothel, and I think that so far it's lived up to its expectations.

It's really weird though because none of me feels any older or by any means have any more answers than I did when I was that freshman. A hefty number of books have been read on my part since then. Hundreds of pages have been written. Thousands of miles have been traveled, but do I feel any more ready for that daunting thing they call reality? Unless the next nine months do something to dramatically make me more mature I don't think I will be any more ready. Now I just look at all the kids running around campus with their laniards around their necks, introducing themselves to anyone who passes, carrying campus maps and trying to get into the bars with their jank fake ids. Not annoyed at all. I wish I were there again actually.

Went to Annie's for dinner tonight with Ellen. I am so lucky to have basically another mom so close. And I love South Bend still. Thanks to all the loyal reader(s?) esp those who loyally remind me to update.

What to do when your head is abt to explode

Would someone beam me to South Bend immediately if not sooner. I love love love home but sometimes feel like a kid who is too tall for their little race car bed and my feet stick out on the end. Growing up and growing out. As my mother's mother always used to say, healthy birds fly.

Ninety and Sunny

Always in Chi I would, starting Monday, count down the days until Friday. Now everyday is Friday when you're unemployed. That's a word that scares the crap out of me, especially with the impending horror that is graduation. I feel no further ready for the real world than I was when I was 15. What if what I get out there, ready to fend for myself and do something good, I don't go anywhere? What if I am just a little girl still clueless and fumbling? Most of the questions I had going into college go unanswered yet. I just have this huge fear of being in this exact same place, on my comfy bed in my parents house in August with no obligations, next year, jobless. Why in the world am I worrying about this right now.

Beach tomorrow for a week. Much needed reading catch up time and of course quality time with the Peralta clan. Bliss= beach, book and a beer, says my cousin eloquently. Then I cannot wait to get to school. So much happens.

A few notes:

I think my parents love the dogs more than me and my sisters.
Had a dream someone stole my drivers license. I flipped out only fearing that I would have to take my passport to bars.
What is the public radio station like in Austin?
I wish I were either going to Coldplay or in Chi going to Lolla tonight.

and the livin's easy

Back in Charlotte. I have been under a lot of pressure and faced with daily responsibilities the bog me down- like walking the puppies and putting the dishes in the dishwasher (4got abt the luxury of home appliances like that) and depositing checks and stuff of the sort. Not to mention the arduous tasks I must get done before going to school. Like shopping and doing my nails and working out and watching reruns of Entourage. I have recently been most stressed abt outtanning my sisters and cousins.

OK so the living is pretty easy down here, once again. I am trying to soak it all in before the whirlwind of senior year in just a few weeks. I forgot what [real] classes are like. What it might be like to do more than, say, 3 hours of homework per week. I am excited though in a nerdy way. I fear I might be one of those awkward returnees who gets lost on the way to class, forgets words and whom people ask if they transferred because it's been so long.

People down here on a day to day basis are definitely not as quirky as those whom I met in Chi.

F***book is kind of like a mundane and non-famous version of People magizine.