Here I am, back for another school year. I begin this school year with just as many
doubts, fears, and anxieties as before but this year in a house with air conditioning,
a dishwasher, and two male roommates who, like me, remain on the hamster wheel
of the non-traditional college student.
I learned a lot last year.
I learned how to get through tough situations in two, often alternating ways:
by gritting my teeth and doing the best I could with my often limited or
worn-out resources or by sobbing uncontrollably and planning my dramatic withdrawal
from Iowa City and the University of Iowa in my head.
Last year was challenging, busy, and oh so entertaining. I spent a lot of time working, although at
times work became a pretty loose descriptor because I was usually quite simply,
having fun with my co-workers. I studied
a little, here and there and pulled ONE all-nighter (I’m old) with Regan upon
which we rewarded ourselves with a delusional, yet sober, 6 a.m. Village Inn
breakfast. And lastly, I spent a lot of
time daydreaming and reflecting about what I would when I didn’t have to work
or study. I had fun, especially when
people showed up to distract me from work and school. Joey Donia, the OGs of high stakes UNO, and the
Mondo’s staff and our post-work festivities provided some of the best
distractions. There were days I definitely
felt as if I were frantically treading in a dirty sewage lagoon, barely able to
keep my head above the feces surrounding me.
There were other days that onions on a salad or questions about my hair
sent me into a tail-spin of toddler-like behavior. And of course there were some mornings I impressed
even myself with some pretty convincing reasons why it simply would not be
feasible to make it to class that morning.
However, there were also days that I worked long hours and managed to be
nice to everyone (well, almost everyone I’m sure), read assigned readings and
took notes, did my dishes immediately after using them, hung up my clothes in
my closet, got A’s on papers, ate fruits and vegetables, and calmly worked
through everyday problems with ease.
I believe my biggest struggles this year will involve the
Spanish language and my long-distance boyfriend. The long distance relationship is not as
foreign to me as the Spanish language, rather it is a concept I have somehow
found myself involved with on more than one occasion. I’m gonna go out on a limb here and just say
that you have to be slightly unstable (by that, I mean crazy) to willingly
involve yourself in a long-distance relationship. My boyfriend Chris can undoubtedly attest to
the craziness that ensues over the course of a LDR (yeah, we have an official acronym). While we are doing our best to maneuver
through something that, similar to speaking a foreign language, involves communication
that is often frustratingly misunderstood and one that requires A LOT OF WORK
to be successful with. Even writing this
paragraph is A LOT OF WORK, if that gives you any sense of how I’m feeling. While Chris might be three short hours away
in Illinois, separated only by a river constituting as a border between his
home and my home, I often feel as if I might succumb to all the negative and unfortunate
external roadblocks on my path to relationship happiness and stability. Here I am, just a girl trying to cross the
Rio Grande (just kidding, the Mississippi) armed only with the dream of
creating a meaningful, tangible life with the person I love, yet there are skilled
gunmen and border patrol always there to send that dream swimming back to Iowa. I’ll stop that comparison right there.
Alas, I’m still here in Iowa City. I’m still passing…somehow. Still working…thanks to the good graces and patience
of my employers and co-workers. And,
most importantly, I’m still learning more about myself via the unique survival
tactics of the completely irrational, unorganized, and whimsical young lady I am
proud to embody. So this year stay tuned
as I fake it ‘till I make it in Intermediate Spanish II and attempt to cross
the Mississippi River to find true love.
