My dorm room is pretty standard. I have a fixed bed, desk, wardrobe, and shelves. I’m lucky enough to have a small en-suite and the building itself only opened last year so I am the second person to occupy this space. It’s about half the size of last year’s dorm, including the en-suite (last year’s had none). The desk doesn’t wobble and I can’t hear the footsteps of my neighbours, so I’d say it’s a good room. But when it comes to decorating, I have to think about a lot of things.
All of my decorations need to be easily brought back to Canada with me. University housing has some sort of vendetta against blue tac, so I can’t use that. Too much paper on the walls will be considered a fire hazard and will get me in trouble. To top it all off, my room is really small.
I’m not entirely sure how some of my friendships form. First we just sort of know each other. Then it gets to the point where we see each other on a path, each make a face at the other, stop right in front of each other, one of us pats the other on the head with a binder as they say, “Boop!” and then we continue on our way, calling “‘Morning!” over our shoulders. Between that and first finding out their name, I have no idea what happens that somehow gets us from point A to point B.
I’m feeling a little bit homesick today. Actually, it might be homesickness and a mix of just wanting to be done with all this work. I don’t get homesick very often. I went my entire first year without being homesick, but I guess it was bound to happen eventually. And it’s better for it to happen five days before I leave than a month or two ago, right? There are three things I especially miss: My little brother, my dog, and my room. I mean, my room here is nice and all–I even decorated it for Christmas!–but my room back home is still unfinished since moving in over the summer and there’s so much I want to change! My dog is basically a big furry teddy bear that licks your face and poops but is always happy to see you no matter what. Who wouldn’t miss that? My brother…I don’t know. I just miss him. He’s ten and he likes Ninja Turtles.
Anyway, I should get back to working on this Research Portfolio thing. I’m still not done and it’s due tomorrow. So much for getting a head start. The thing is, I’ve never actually done anything quite like this before. Compiling research into a plan for a story I haven’t written yet is so far out of my comfort zone I might as well be in the middle of the Pacific. I was told I could cover everything in point form but I also have to make it engaging. How do I make point-form engaging? Is it even possible? I suppose I’ll find out soon enough. Tomorrow this will all be over…except for my film script. That one’s due Friday.
Hooray for IT guys! (I’m not being sexist–the guys in IT were, well, guys.)
In terms of my assignments, I’m feeling a little overwhelmed at the moment. I always have a day like this when I don’t know what to do or how to start, although it usually comes along a lot closer to the deadlines. I suppose I should consider myself lucky, then?
To get over this sense of dread and inevitable failure, I’ll do what I walkways do: eat candy and watch funny internet videos. Oh, and I’ll break down my work into manageable chunks and work little-by-little (she typed as she remembered that her dad reads this blog).
Yesterday evening, I found myself with one-hundred-and-sixty-six other people in a room not even close to big enough. I was breathing in their sweat and sweating out their spit. We were all gathered in this room awaiting our turn to perform for an audience of fifty-five people–which is supposed to be a lot. It was the Performing Arts showcase, a brilliant medley of dancing, singing, and acting, all around one extremely important holiday: Christmas.
I was doing my work in Textual Intervention class this morning like a good student when I got back my mark for the rationale I had written a few weeks ago. The rationale itself wasn’t included, but I got some comments and I pulled up the rationale on my laptop to compare the feedback. Only then did I notice that I had saved my rationale under the title “FuckingRationale.pages” which was fine because that doesn’t show up when you print off the work to hand in. Nothing was wrong.
Unlike what had happened in Scriptwriting class a few weeks back.