That house that is no longer my home fills me with longing each time I go but I know: home is where the heart is. The school's not the same but neither am I; everything changes with the passing of time. That city never changed 'til I left it behind.
I spent four years with the same teacher, three of them in a club he was in charge of, one of them as vice president of said club. In those four years of high school, I had countless conversations with my German teacher, countless experiences, and countless lessons. Countless, but I'll try recalling some. One … Continue reading The Professor
I'm realizing I should have called this series "Letters to Myself," but now it feels too late to change it. Oh well, missed opportunity. If you are not myself, this is a regular introspective series on my blog I started to reflect on the internal and external happenings in my life while on exchange last … Continue reading The One Where I’m Having a Great Week
That's an ironic title given the last post was about positivity. I am struggling to stay positive. I need to follow some of my own advice. I just feel a lot of pressure right now about school. I've never tried this hard in school before. Ever. And that's honestly really scary for me. You see, I think … Continue reading The One Where I’m Starting to Crack
Today is the official celebration of the 100th anniversary of the first ever first day at my university. 100 first days full of wide-eyed first-year students trying to find their classes. 100 first days of making new friends. 100 first days of finding your new home. 100 first days of dreading coming back to school. … Continue reading 100 First Days
Okay, really it's more like crawling...but still, we all had to crawl before we walked. The last Letters I posted was titled "The One Where I'm a Fraud," and admittedly it was less than my usual motivating content. I just felt so fake, like I wasn't doing anything for my goals, which is honestly a feeling … Continue reading The One Where I’m Walking the Walk
This is long overdue, and becoming less quirky with time. I just really like the title. Sue me. Not to complain about my own life back home, but undergrad is significantly easier here. The selection and quality of cheese is pitiful. I've come to (sadly) understand that frozen burritos are a North American thing. Skin … Continue reading Quirky Cultural Differences (#6)
Before I knew it it was four in the morning and I had to be up in six hours and I simply didn't care. I momentarily thought about going back to that academic reading since I was now so awake, but I knew it wouldn't work. I knew that my energy was really adrenaline from the plot, and that no matter how much I live and love to learn, working-class politics of Victorian London was not going to inspire the same kind of focus and alertness in me as Dashner's plot twists. And to be honest, I felt a little dumb for it.