1. Microsoft Word
Nothing makes me happier than knowing that I won’t have to open another Word document for the rest of the summer. No double spacing, using words like ‘moreover’ or ‘society,’ no more spell checking and accidental typos, and no more printing. I won’t have to stare at the same blank document not knowing what to type. Over break when my eyes hurt from looking at a screen too much, it’ll be from being on Tumblr too long, not from writing a philosophy essay. I won’t have to remember the date, either. People will ask me what day it is and I’ll be like, “I don’t know, it’s probably June.” I could probably forget my name if I wanted. I’m just so excited that I can read books without thinking about a thesis. Libraries can become fun again. Yay!
2. Drunk People in the Blue Room
Okay, it’s college and I get that people are probably not going to relive their middle school days by going to a dance sober. But there is a line between drunkenness and unacceptable drunkenness, and it is often crossed in the Blue Room. So, I went to the Spring Formal after party and it was incredibly fun, but people there were so freakin’ plastered that things got a little strange. I was getting my groove on and some random person walked behind me and bit my neck. I repeat, she bit my neck. I mean, what the fuck. I don’t know whether or not she thought she was some sort of vampire or whatever, but you do not bite stranger’s necks. Ever. Bitches be cray. I could have gotten rabies. I don’t know how in the world I could finish my conference work with rabies. At least at home I won’t have to worry about mysterious neck biters.
3. Not Knowing When to Wave
I don’t know if this is just Sarah Lawrence kids, or all college kids, but people here are fucking awkward. I never know when to wave to my acquaintances. I run into people I’ve met a couple times but aren’t friends with all the time and I always go through stages of panic, trying to figure out whether or not it’s appropriate to wave.
Stage 1: Frantically looking around to see if there’s someone else to wave to. Preferably someone behind them so if I wave and they don’t wave back, I don’t look like a complete idiot.
Stage 2: Slowing down, so I have more time to decide whether or not to acknowledge their presence.
Stage 3: Checking my phone. Please someone call! Please! Should I pretend to talk on the phone? What if my phone rings when that happens? Maybe if I look at my phone long enough they’ll just pass by me and it won’t be a problem anymore.
Stage 4: Trying to make eye contact. In the end, I just suck it up and try to look them in their eyes. If I make eye contact, we wave or smile and I feel less stupid. If we don’t, I feel awkward for a good thirty minutes. At home, I won’t have to constantly run into people I kind of know and if I do, we’ll definitely wave.
4. The Possibility of Being Quoted on Overheard at SLC
A couple of months ago my friend pointed out to me that I had been quoted on Overheard at SLC, and that horrified me. The quote wasn’t even that bad. I was talking about how the unconditional love for dogs was suspicious, but it wasn’t the quote that bothered me, it was the fact that I could be quoted. I say the most inappropriate things in public on a daily basis. I don’t even mean to say taboo or weird things; they just spill out of my mouth and I forget that I’m in a place where people eavesdrop. So when I realize that I say something particularly inappropriate, I always look around and try to figure out who’s listening. I don’t need to live with that paranoia. If someone quotes me, I’d rather not know about it. Over the summer, I’ll be saying inappropriate things in the safety of my own home. Unless Overheard at SLC has me wiretapped, I think I’m in the clear.
Only about a week and a half until summer, and I’m more than ready to blow this popsicle stand. I’m ready for my cozy bed, cuddling with my cat, and homemade food. And without the bad things about Sarah Lawrence, I’ll be able to get my couple months of relaxing in before getting back to school. Summer 2012, here I come.
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