In the woods again, feeling more awake and powerful!

Sometimes, I don’t manage my time in a manner that could be termed “optimal.” I’m usually pretty good about it, but every now and then I end up playing with my iTunes settings, or reading through old emails, or buying a smiley face Mylar balloon so that I can amuse myself by hitting it, or distracting my long-suffering roommate, before trudging off to McCabe, the Beit Midrash, or the fire escape to force myself to focus. This kind of thing doesn’t happen often, but it happened this past week, which unfortunately meant that it coincided with a week wherein I had two big assignments due.

So I spent quite a bit of time in McCabe late at night, still wearing whatever gross clothes I had worn to the gym, with my hair looking like the aftermath of a bomb detonation, bleakly pondering my work. Crazy things tend to happen in hotbeds of intellectual pursuits, especially when people get tired and frantic about encroaching deadlines, so as I sat and typed and tried to remember how to do Chi Squared tests in Microsoft Excel, I kept an ear open to the people around me. Amid unnecessarily dramatic wails that the printer was broken (it wasn’t; at least, not for long) and the agonizing groans of people who had gone to get coffee only to find there was none left,  there were more uplifting interactions. I had a long conversation with the guy at the computer next to me about the material on his psychology midterm the next day, and I solicited the help of strangers to figure out Excel. Something about the atmosphere of exhaustion and despair really lent itself to community spirit.

Another example came earlier in the week, on Tuesday. I’d been having a bad day for no particular obvious reason, but when it got late enough that I knew I should go to bed, I realized I really didn’t want to end the day without being anything but miserable since waking up. So I called Susanna, who goes to bed later than I usually do, and asked if she might be interested in baking with me. “What are you going to bake?” she asked. “I don’t know,” I said. “Baked goods.” So we used the Parrish 4th kitchen and my baking materials, and I took out my frustration on the dough we made, and we kvetched until long after I should have been asleep. When I woke up on Wednesday, I was tired, but I felt much better than the day before, and not being so irritated made being everything better.

Being awake when you shouldn’t be can be wretched. But in the week that just passed, those times were surprisingly full of fun and bonding.

I know it’s been a while, and I have no one to blame but myself. But in my defense, I’ve had a series of weeks jam-packed with homework, classes, meetings with the Catholic group, babysitting a family with 4 kids, hosting my radio show (Literary Works as Musicals! 9 a.m. on Thursdays at wsrnfm.org) and dragging myself off to the gym. And on the weekends, when I might have been catching up on this blog, I’ve been having adventures, the likes of which I haven’t really had since freshman year!

On the first exciting weekend this semester, Miriam, Linda, our friend Susanna, and I trooped off into the Crum, hoping to stumble upon the abandoned ruins of a water garden. We had read an article about this place in the Daily Gazette, the online newspaper, last year, and though we didn’t really know where we were going, we had a (foolishly?) high degree of faith in our combined navigational abilities and luckiness. After wandering for hours, with no water, no breaks to rest, chasing a deer, almost losing a shoe in mud, calling a local historic site to ask for directions, and several photo-ops, we finally found it!  Here’s a sampling of our photo-ops:

Look how deep my shoe sank in the mud!

Standing under a fallen tree that looked like a rib cage

Orienteering

Linda in the ruins!

The next weekend was College Day in Philadelphia, and Linda, Miriam, and another of our friends, Linda’s roommate Yin, and I went into the city, where we ate incredibly delicious hot pot and Korean barbecue at the International Smokeless BBQ. Then we walked around the city, rode a carousel, went to Chinatown to bring back pastry. Here’s what our food looked like:

Grilling meats and vegetables, which then get dipped in mixed sauces

Other food gets boiled in this pot that's in the middle of the table

I was a picky eater growing up, and as I was gorging myself on this, I couldn’t help being really happy that I’m not anymore.

The next weekend, I did something I’ve wanted to do for years–– went and visited my best friend, Jenn, at Yale. We’ve known each other since sixth grade, and although we went to different high schools, we talked on the phone every weekend. Sometimes we miss weeks now, but we’ve had an ongoing email exchange, plus Skype and Facebook chats, so it’s not often that we don’t know what’s going on in each others’ lives. She’s come to Swarthmore 3 times, but I hadn’t made it up to see her until the beginning of October. It was a really great time; I got to meet her friends, eat Cuban food, ice cream, and the first good falafel I’ve ever had, go to Yale’s museum of British art, and take the Tour of Being Jenn (i.e, see all her class buildings, study spots, church, and the places where she lived for the past two years ). We didn’t take any pictures, but here are a few examples of our shenanigans:

In Woolman's lounge last spring, when she had a Tae Kwon Do tournament at UPenn

Sometimes (often!) we wear matching clothes

Sword fighting in front of the Science Center last summer

All in all, I’ve been having such good weekends I’ve barely had time to be stressed, even though with 5 classes, a radio show, two clubs to manage, and study abroad applications to submit, I have a lot going on. And that brings me to the exciting news I mentioned in the title–– I found out this morning that I was admitted to the first study abroad program I applied to, the one that I’m pretty sure I’ll attend! That means next semester, I’ll be at Cardiff University in Wales, taking classes in religion, and sociology and frolicking around the UK. I’m so excited about this!  It seems like things are really falling into place, and everything’s worth being excited about.

We got free tee shirts last weekend, from a radio station that visited campus and apparently hasn't heard that we don't have Greek life

Roommates/Big Chairmates

With two weeks over, the semester is really underway, and I’m glad to say I’m actually managing to be productive. Aside from staying more-or-less (mostly more) on top of my readings, I applied to a study abroad program and did most of the work needed to switch my major. “Switch your major?!” you say? “Aren’t you the girl who panicked and hid under a table when she realized she had to choose a major in the first place?” And you’d be right to be incredulous, because there’s little that I hate more than change, and little I find more stressful than things related to my major/minor(s).

But last week, my wonderful and semi-famous Linguistics adviser told me that according to my plan for the next two years, I was only one credit away from having a degree in ling.  Unfortunately, this sent me into a tailspin of major-anxiety, because Swarthmore doesn’t allow people with double majors to minor in anything, and I didn’t want to drop my Religion minor. But after consulting with Sarah, the chair of the Soc/Anth department, my adviser, mentor and overall Wonder Woman, I realized that I could special major, by designing my own degree in Linguistic Anthropology. It’s the area of anthropology that I’m most interested in anyway,  and it allows me to take classes I’m interested in, skip one that I’m less enthused about, and have a degree that recognizes the three areas I’ve spent so much time on. I worried for a while that it’s too flaky for graduate schools, so I went back and asked her what she thought about that, and she assured me that she’s seen about 15 students through special majors, and all got into grad school. Succumbing to the temptation to be a snob, I said, “But, uh, reputable grad schools, right?” “Do you consider Princeton reputable?” she asked, smiling. So that pretty much settled it– the classes I would take for it are really the ones that would make me happiest, and even if I don’t go to Princeton or Harvard or Northwestern for grad school, I feel pretty sure now that I’ll go somewhere.

As for study abroad, the whole situation still makes me nervous, but it’s such a fantastic opportunity, I really can’t pass on it. But as long as my application’s in the mail and hasn’t been approved, I don’t really want to write about it for the world… seems like it would jinx it.

Here’s to hoping I can keep up my productivity this week!

So I’m glad to be back, even though I barely left. Nerd that I am, I really missed being in class, and I’m absolutely loving the courses I’m registered for. The Power of Words is a new Soc/Anth class that the professor (who’s also new) described as being an introduction to linguistic anthropology. It seems like it’s going to focus on how language is spread through colonization, what happens when one language in a society is perceived as better or more prestigious than another, and how people who speak multiple languages switch between them. Philosophy of Religion is something I’m really interested in, since half my life seems to revolve around Catholicism in one way or another. The professor is really friendly and funny, enough that I found it noticeable even here, among a lot of accessible and entertaining professors. Also, the syllabus shows that there’s not going to be a whole lot of reading, which is a nice break from most of my other classes. Language, Culture, and Society is a sociolinguistics class, which is somewhat similar to the Power of Words. But where linguistic anthropology, like in PoW, focuses more on who the speakers of a language are and how they behave, sociolinguistics has more to do with how the language itself changes from speaker to speaker, in place to place. Exemplary Studies is the Soc/Anth class that aims to give a broad overview of both Sociology and Anthropology, which is really exciting for me since I used to have one of the two professors as an adviser, and hopefully the class will help me focus better on the differences between the two fields.  Finally, I’m taking a half credit directed reading class in Hebrew, where we’re going to be reading the story of Jacob and Esau. I love Hebrew and the professor I have for that course, and I’m really looking forward to honing my Hebrew skills, which after a summer of atrophy, badly need honing.

I’m glad to be back in Parrish again, too, in a lovely and surprisingly spacious room with Miriam, my roommate from last year. Being able to live with my friends again is a good alternative to the nearly-monastic way I spent the majority of my summer, though I’m already really missing Hannah, who’s spending this semester abroad. With the end of my Swarthmore career starting to seem like a reality, I’m trying to make the most of the opportunity to live with all these incredibly bright and generally wonderful people–– I can’t imagine how hard it will be not to see them all the time after we graduate.

For now, I’m just trying to adjust to life as a third year, and not worry too much about the future. That’s easier said than done, of course, but I want to get my feet underneath me before I start thinking too far ahead.

Best roommates ever

Linda and I will be together, poking each other's noses, for much of the summer

I'll miss Hannah's picture taking prowess and ability to drag me out into the world (like to the Fun Fair, where this was taken) over the summer, and while we're abroad next year

Though we have almost no pictures together (3, including this obviously photoshopped one), Mariah and I spent a lot of time together this year, and summer's strange without her.

The last few weeks of my sophomore year flew by in a blur of final papers, exams, revisions, late night worrying, late night baking, thought-provoking tête-à-têtes, Parlor Parties, and soft serve from Essie Mae’s. By the time I got home, the only thing I wanted to do was sleep. Fortunately, starting at 7:30 p.m. the Saturday I made it back, I was able to begin sleeping a ridiculously high percentage of the time. True, I’ve spent a good part of the past few weeks reading for fun, watching TV, and hanging out with friends from home, but sleep has been my primary occupation.

Photographic evidence that I have friends from my pre-Swarthmore life. Consuelo and Jenn have been metaphorically by my side since 5th and 6th grade, despite all going to different high schools and colleges.

But now that I’ve gotten all that sleep out of my system, I’m awake long enough to reflect on the past year. In the beginning, I was really optimistic about the year. While there was more stress than I’d anticipated–– both academic and personal–– it was still a wonderful time. I strengthened my friendships with some incredible people; learning to bake, being mall rats, surveying roofs to climb, comparing Semitic languages, and just making silly faces at each other. I studied things I never would have imagined (if you’d asked me before spring of freshman year if I would ever learn biblical Hebrew or become even slightly proficient in Spanish, I would have said there was no way).

I was accepted into the Richard Rubin Scholar Mentoring Program, which paired me with a mentor, the chair of the Sociology/Anthropology Department, to help me find future opportunities. One thing that caused a lot of worry for me was helping to guide the Catholic students group through two changes in priests, which was challenging. Still, it meant that I got to know several members of the Dean’s Staff and other members of the Catholic community, and eventually we reached a happy solution.

So yes, the year had ups and downs, emotional moments and periods of tranquility, and at times I was almost overwhelmed with it all. But it turned out well–– my grades are good, my friends and I are close, the student groups I manage are thriving, and my future is beginning to come into focus. I’m completely boggled by the realization that I’m halfway through my Swarthmore career, but I’m excited to see what the next two years hold.

Me, Miriam, Hannah, and Iris

Roommates in bad lighting

This semester is passing incredibly quickly, and I’ve had to skip weeks of posting to avoid writing posts titled things like “Terrifying” and “Panicking, Part 2″ (or Part 3, or Part 4…).

In the last few weeks, I’ve finally officially become an Anthropology major, with minors in Linguistics and Religion. I have to admit, the process of writing my sophomore paper was less daunting than I expected. It was only a two page essay (plus a lot of paperwork) about why I’m interested in the things I like. And while it’s hard to explain, “Why Cool Things Are Cool,” it’s not hard to talk about it for two pages. Plotting out which courses I plan to take for the rest of my time here was no fun, especially since it felt like it was closing a door on so many really fun, interesting classes, but I’m never going to have time to learn everything I want to. And at least now that all the departments involved have accepted my plans, I feel a little calmer. It’s nice to have some sort of plan for the future, even if it’s still being developed.

Things are also starting to settle down outside of classes. I’ve spent the last few months trying to help steer the Catholic community through a difficult time after our priest was replaced. As of the last few weeks, it seems that we have a chaplain that everyone is happy with, which is a huge stress-relief for me. Even though it’s been difficult, though, this has given me the chance to get to know and work closely with deans and members of the administration that I might not have met otherwise, and it’s shown me how much power students can have here. And now, I’m really hopeful about the future of our group.

I’m also hopeful about my willpower with regard to blogging. I’ve procrastinated for weeks to spare everyone reading about my panicking over the present and future, but as things start to wind down for the semester, I’m going to try to look for the good things to report on. I have a feeling I won’t have to look very hard.

Lauren, Miriam and me over winter break

It is the second semester of my sophomore year, and I am just a little overwhelmed. I’m agonizing in the way that gives you nonsensical nightmares about fighting with a choir group of priests and waiting an eternity for space in a changing room at the gym. The way that leaves you slumped across the couch, watching House with your friend, and moaning your complaints while she silently wishes you’d shut up and just embrace the glory of Hugh Laurie. The way that stems from new classes, not making much progress with internship applications, and knowing that Chocolates and Choosing is tomorrow.

Chocolates and Choosing is an annual ritual in which the administration feeds chocolate to sophomores, hoping that it might ease the pain and angst induced by listening to lectures about choosing and fulfilling our majors and/or minors. It would be fair to ask why I would be concerned about this. After all, as I wrote here: http://jsmall2.wordpress.com/2010/11/05/panicking/, I pretty much figured out my major and minor, and they’re definitely doable. Now, maybe you’re the kind of placid person who could accept something like that, but as for a person whose rationalism is often overwhelmed by neurotic-ism, just having to formalize my decision is really stressful. It’s not a matter of being scared the Soc/Anth and Linguistics departments will reject me–– my grades in those departments are pretty good–– it’s just that making a commitment, even one that can be changed time and time again, is scary. Don’t expect me to be getting married any time soon, for that matter.

Unrelatedly, if you’re like my parents–– if you, in fact, are my parents (hi Mom and Dad!)–– you may be very curious about how my classes are going. Internet strangers, I can’t promise you the long phone conversations I have with my family, so here’s the best I can give you.

Hebrew is coming back to me quickly, and while I miss a lot of the people didn’t re-enroll in it this semester, the smaller class size will make it cozier and easier/more imperative to pay attention. I have the same professor as last time, which is great since she was amazing. Spanish is coming back only slowly, and I’m as vexed by conjugating verbs as I was before break. Practicing speaking with my mom would have been more helpful if she hadn’t let me say everything in the present tense.

My other two classes, Latin American Society Through its Novel, and the creative writing Fiction Writers Workshop, are each three hours long, which are double the length of the longest regular classes. But both of these are only held once a week, which is lucky since they both assign a lot of  work. But I can’t complain, since Latin American Society is going to give me an excuse to read a bunch of novels that I’ve wanted to read forever, like 100 Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez (which I’m disappointed to discover is not actually about someone forsaking society for 100 years).

The creative writing workshop, though, is both exciting and terrifying. I’m thrilled to be in the class, since it’s one of very few classes that you have to apply to be allowed to register, and I’m glad that Miriam and our friend Liz are in it with me. But, for a person who has an admissions blog, spent three semesters on the newspaper, and writes short stories in class like other people doodle, I have major hang-ups about my writing, especially about other people reading what I’ve written. Add to that the  fact that I don’t really think of myself as a “writer,” just as a girl who finds writing kind of entertaining, and maybe you can understand why taking a class with really talented writers is so nerve-wracking for me.

As of today, I also have a job for this semester, working at the Friends Historical Library again. I love working there, and my job should be largely at my own pace. Since I’m no longer on The Phoenix, I should have time for it. But it is another obligation, and keeping all these balls in the air won’t be easy.

But it’s all going to be okay, as Miriam and I tell each other a hundred times a day. This week is making it clear that we don’t have to be scared of professors, at least. People say small liberal arts colleges are for bonding with your professors, and when they’re handing out candy while advising you about your future, or setting up forums online for discussions about short stories, I’m inclined to think they’re right. As for how this whole planning my life adventure is going to work, I’ll have to keep you updated. And while I won’t be burdening you with the constant updates on my classes that my parents get to experience, I have a feeling that my courses this semester are going to be interesting enough, unique enough, and intense enough to make it onto the blog more than once. Wish me luck.

So proud of my brother for graduating from 8th grade

Spending quality time with my best friends from home

Representing Swat in the redwood forest

Taking care of our beloved pet fish

Bonding with block mates

Another year is just about over, and those of us who don’t have the energy to think about making resolutions are left reflecting on the last twelve months. 2010 was the first year in which I was a Swattie the whole way through, and while it didn’t have as many milestones for me as 2009, it was a pretty good year overall.

Here’s to a 2011 that’s filled with happiness for everyone.

Looking fancy!

Room mates at the Yule Ball!

It would be a cliche to say that the last month of the semester passed in a blur. So let’s say instead that I’m strongly considering having my vision checked.

I’m home again, and after sleeping 11 hours last night to make up for all my late night essay writing and Hebrew cramming, I went to lunch today with my mom and two of our neighbors. Over our bread basket,  Mrs. Krafka asked me about Swarthmore, and what I had been doing there. And I stared blankly at her as I tried to think of something to say.

“Well,” I mustered. “I worked a lot this past week. Like, a lot. With finals and everything, I really haven’t had time for much else.” And that’s true. The last week has been especially back-breaking and stressful, with three final projects, three final papers, and two final exams. I spent some very late nights in the Beit Midrash, (Hebrew for “House of Study,” the room that houses classical Jewish texts and makes an excellent study location) working as hard as I could.

But that’s not to say I haven’t had some fun. It just means that most of the fun things I did were the results of bad decisions–– decisions which I would definitely make again. For example, going to the Yule Ball, the first annual Harry Potter-themed formal dance, took up time that could have been spent making flashcards. But if I had made flashcards, I wouldn’t have stood in a crowd with Miriam and danced to the silly songs of wizard rock bands. I wouldn’t have gotten to eat Acid Pops and Chocolate Frogs. And I wouldn’t have been nearly as happy.

Even in the middle of studying, I still managed to make some questionable choices that lightened my mood. My last night at Swarthmore, I was working the the Beit with a few friends, (including Ariel, who was my first spec last year!) panicking about my Hebrew exam the next morning and the 10-12 page paper due the following afternoon. But despite my stacks of books and piles of notes, I was persuaded by Ariel that baking cookies in the kosher kitchen would improve my overall quality of life. And it did.

Our cookies were a bit suspect, since we only had whole wheat flour, hardly any butter, and no recipe to speak of. But they seemed delicious when they were fresh out of the oven, and they gave me a much-needed sugar rush to finish the paper and learn some vocabulary. More importantly, baking them gave me the chance to relax with Ariel, bonding over our favorite band, and pretending to quiz each other. I didn’t get nearly as much sleep as I wanted, but it was worth it, especially since I think the finals went pretty well.

I can’t pretend that the last few weeks were entirely enjoyable–– I did have to reassure a prospective student and his mother that if they were to visit at another point in the semester, they would see people smiling–– but my friends and I managed to take breaks for fun. Sanity was been in short supply overall, but we did all seem to make it to the break. I couldn’t have done it without them.

Earlier this week, I was sitting in Parrish Parlors with my friend Hannah. She was on her laptop, looking through the course catalog for next semester, which had just been put online. I realized I should probably get around to figuring out the requirements for majoring in Sociology/Anthropology and Linguistics. Actually, I realized that I should have figured that out a long time ago.

So I looked online, thought it over, and came to the realization that it makes the most sense for me to major in Sociology/Anthropology and minor in Linguistics. And then I realized that I had just kind of made a decision about my life, and ohmygoodness the moment is upon me, the future is now, help help help! So, instead of handling this like an adult and taking a deep breath, I instead got out of my chair and sat on the floor, half under the table, as if acting like a 5 year old would, in fact, make me 5 years old.

Despite my protestations that I was totally fine and just needed a moment, Hannah was a bit concerned (though also, I think, pretty amused) and called over our friend Chris, who happened to be walking by. Surprisingly, Chris seemed unfazed by my nervous breakdown, sat down on the floor with me, and asked me straightforward questions so that I could rationally talk through my way through the next 2 and a half years. So, thanks, Chris! (NB: I did later go and talk this out again with an advisor. I’m not making life decisions fully based on conversations held under tables.)

But I wasn’t the only one who felt  more anxious than usual this week. My lovable and incredibly talented roommate Miriam applied to be in the Creative Writing Workshop which is offered spring semester. It’s pretty selective, and she really wanted to take the class, so she was pretty nervous about it. (I applied too, but I didn’t feel as invested.)

Two days ago, which was almost a full week before the decisions were supposed to come out, Liz Keck came running up to Miriam to tell her that she’d heard the list was out and that someone had told her they were both in the class. Miriam was, as you might expect, really happy, but she wanted to go see with her own eyes, and I went with her, reassuring her that yes, of course she should be really happy and proud of herself, and that I was perfectly fine and not upset that I didn’t get in.

So we got to the building and went up to the list, and it turned out that I’m first alternate for the class, so if it doesn’t fit into the schedule of anyone who was accepted, I’ll be in it, too. This led to both of us freaking out, though much more happily this time. I’m kind of nervous about the prospect of being in the class. I don’t want to count my chickens before they hatch though, so I’ll leave that alone. If I don’t end up in the class, though, there’s a really cool seminar in Anthropological Linguistics that I want to take just as much. It’s scheduled at the same time, so I can’t take it if I’m in the writing workshop.

Life is finally starting to come together, and it’s pretty exciting. But the decision-making that goes alone with it could easily drive me nuts. So it’s a good thing I have my friends and professors here and my family at home to give me advice, celebrate with me, and sit under tables with me while I get a grip.