MY SENIOR YEAR OF COLLEGE.
yeah, we're technically like, three and a half weeks into it. which i think is very telling, because i haven't had time to blog about it at all until now.
(you're assuming that i have time to blog about right now. ha. haha. hahaha. HAHAHAHAHAHA. I DON'T.)
i feel like my year always starts super awkwardly because in michigan it's like, illegal to start school before labour day, so i started on a tuesday. which meant that on monday i spent most of the day watching orange is the new black and crying over fictional women in prison.
and then sometime on monday night, after my staff meeting, i was like, well shit, i should probably look up my schedule.
emily's schedule: tuesday english senior seminar, 11:30-12:50.
that was it. and i was like, whaaaat?! because last semester i had THREE hour and a half classes in a row with a small break for lunch and that royally sucked.
so on tuesday i woke up and i was like, FIRST LAST OF SCHOOL EVER UNLESS I GO TO GRAD SCHOOL BUT I PROBABLY SHOULDA FIGURED THAT SHIT OUT A LONG TIME AGO.
(my mother is always telling me that i have plenty of time for grad school. but all my friends are like, WHAT UP IT'S TIME FOR THE GRE and i'm like, OH HELL NO THAT'S NOT A THING and people are like, omg what grad schools are you looking at and i'm like, SORRY I HAVE TO PEE TALK TO YOU LATER.)
so on tuesday i woke up and did the finding nemo FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL thing and i ate poptarts in my apartment and put on a really cute skirt because it's probably my last first day of school ever and i'm trying to be really classy this year or something, and you know what?
PANTS ARE HARD.
long live skirts and dresses. pants are really fuggin' hard most days.
(you think that women wear skirts to be adorable. and this is true. hell, i'm wearing a dress i bought in london right now because it's really cute and i love it. but i also woke up this morning, looked at my skinny jeans, and decided that i was NOT gonna get my ass to fit into those today.)
my senior seminar is kind of my main class, because it's senior seminar for english. it's nothing but senior english majors. it's the last of the required english classes. there are thirteen of us. we all know each other very well. most of us went to england together last may. we're all very comfortable with each other. we sit at a big table in the library and drink coffee. our professor is my thesis advisor.
what's our class about?
sucess and failure.
after seminar, my sigma tau delta ladies and i get lunch together and we talk about the woe of the english major senior thesis. and last week it was pretty much like this.
DO WE REALLY HAVE TO TALK ABOUT FAILURE ALL THE TIME IN A SENIOR CLASS? I MEAN, JEEZ. WE ARE NEVER GOING TO AMOUNT TO ANYTHING IN LIFE.
the last book we read was about a failing writer who was poor as dirt and he was literally starving and he slept with strange women and had awkward grandiose complexes and eventually, after FINALLY making money and not starving, he throws his book into the desert.
it pretty much demolished my dream of being a professional writer in any field whatsoever.
my tuesdays generally consist of talking about failing people. today we talked about paula spencer in the woman who walked into doors. she's an alcholic irish woman who was severely beaten by her husband. (i thought he just hit her. boy was i wrong. if you ever want to read a book and vomit, you should read that one, because i almost vomited last night.) and then my professor was like, is her life successful? and we're like, UH, NO.
on mondays, wednesdays, and fridays, i have an eight thirty political science class, which i will definitely blog about later. it's about the american political system. we're learning all about the american founding right now and having this huge debate about whether or not we were founded on christian principles.
it's very interesting, but it's also very hard for me to care when i know that i want to move out of the country.
at twelve thirty i go to chorale. sometimes i eat lunch in the new cafeteria, which also deserves its own post because of how intense it is, but sometimes i just make lunch in my apartment. this usually means that i make macaroni and cheese. kraft style.
picture this. i'm in business professional clothing. as in, i am wearing a business skirt, tights, a dress shirt, a large scarf, my sorority pin, earrings, and high heels. i am also straining my monster university macaroni and cheese in my shower.
THE SINK WAS FULL. IT WASN'T MY FAULT. I WAS RUNNING LATE AND I DIDN'T WANT BOILING WATER EVERYWHERE. SO I STRAINED IT IN MY BATHTUB. IT MAKES SENSE.
(this, i feel like, is the true essence of college. I AM AN ADULT.)
after that, i sing in choir. on friday we got new music, and guess what song it was?
YOU KNOW WHAT IT IS.
i got the music. looked at it. and promptly burst into tears in front of the whole choir.
my last class is digital rhetoric, which is directly after choir. i wasn't sure what to expect and we went around the room talking about why we were here.
"i'm emily, i'm a senior english major and writing minor. this is my last writing minor requirement and i want to be a professional blogger."
to which my professor says, "THIS IS THE CLASS FOR YOU."
in this class, i have another blog. it's far more professional than this one. i don't say bad words like shit and ass. (who said those were bad words, anyway?) i capitalise everything properly. the posts aren't ridiculously long. it's highly professional.
and i made a pen name.
i went through a lot of angst making that pen name. like, SERIOUSLY. ANGST. i was in the library for a good two hours on babynames.com freaking out. and of course, i live tweeted the entire thing.
i came away with the pen name beckett c. marsak. which is very different than ermintrude pirate/peaches/rocket marsak.
i've already promoted it on tumblr and facebook and twitter and such, but my professional class blog is here. it's about how beckett (i) deal with anxiety and how i'm working on moving to england and becoming a professional blogger there.
i can't forget about my senior thesis! on my gigantic white board i have a lot of stuff written down: things i need to do, people i need to see, emails i need to send.
i also have this.
in the corner with a big cloud around it, it says YOU ALWAYS HAVE YOUR SENIOR THESIS and it's so true. i'm writing a novel for my senior thesis. i have 85 pages of it written. i've shown 15 of them to my professor. this week he wants me to print off all 85 pages, split them into chapters, and mess with the chronology. his favourite character is one he's only met for like... a page and a half.
every friday night, my english ladies and i hole up in the library and work on our theses together. katelyn and i are the only one doing creative ones, so everybody else is like, ALL THE RESEARCH! but that doesn't mean that we don't do our own research.
i have had a tab for shady grove's intrauterine insemination information open on my browser for a good week and a half.
also, shady grove seems pretty legit. so if you're on the east coast and you're interested in artificial insemination, i'd totally look into them.
you know, this is just my classes, everything i've been writing about. i haven't touched on being the president of a student organisation. my sorority. the movie nights at PMA. my involvement in chapel. the RA stuff. (like the penis email. that circulated around campus pretty quickly.)
OH, I ALSO GOT A BEARDED DRAGON.
his name is hamlet. he's cuter than you.
he's really sassy. he sleeps standing up. you can read about how i bought him from my (beckett's) perspective in my other blog.
it's my senior year. i've spent it running to classes, being president of an organisation, staying up until three in the morning reading novels, getting new pets, freaking out over pen names, straining my macaroni and cheese in my bathtub, crying in choir, and stumbling into my apartment really late at night and wondering why i haven't been there all day.
it's been grand. and i think it's only going to get better from here.
plus, i went to my senior audit and i can graduate on time while only taking two classes next semester, HOLLA.
gonna get that bachelor's degree in english.
i am leaving here with a degree.
or this could be a thing.
doesn't that sound nicer than college?