Filed under: Things I Like | Tags: Falmouth, feels like summer, happiness, life, summer, work
Even if I had never been to Falmouth before, I would still know that it is Memorial Day Weekend.
I’m sweating (finally) and cars are driving by as I attempt to best ride Jackie Wilson down Main Street after a long day at work. What ever happened to brisk nights when it was me and the road and the occasional drunk stumbling out of the Towne Tavern? Cruising past the harbor, distant music drifts as the band jams on the porch at the Boat House. 7-11 is hopping with the same amount of life. I wonder if they have ever done so much business at 11 PM on a Saturday.
Work is another story. Everyone is running– and I mean running– down the line and through the kitchen and out of the walk-in refrigerator. Nearly a hundred people come in and out of the restaurant in a matter of hours. There’s cursing and messes and humidity. No one is angry– or at least no one is showing their anger(yet) — but everyone is on edge, at least a little bit. But, at the same time, kitchen dogs and servers alike rejoice in the fast paced excitement.
I wouldn’t have to go to work or ride my bike to know that it’s Memorial Day weekend. If I stand outside, with my eyes closed, the buzz of the world crescendos and I just know. It’s here. It’s time. It’s Memorial Day weekend.
It is finally summer.
I can breathe a sigh of relief and say ‘I’m back. I’m here. This is everything I’ve been waiting for.’
Filed under: College, Late Night | Tags: complaining, Falmouth, future, happiness, moving out, summer, work
-Do I stay up tonight and feel like shit in the morning, or just go to sleep now? This is a problem I have faced every day for the last five years. Anyone who has ever been my age will understand completely.
-Do I write ‘exempt’ on my tax return and get most of the money I earn, or do I write ’1′ and get a nice hefty tax return next Spring? Today I started my second job. I immediately put down ‘exempt’ on my W-2. Why? Well, the whole point of having a second job is for extra dough. I want to spend this money. But only this money. It is a great way to budget, don’t you think? However, I wasn’t expecting to have to fill out another tax form at my job from last summer (Glass Onion.) I mean, they already have my data on file somewhere. Why would I fill it out again? Alas, Josh approached me with all the paperwork I need for taxes and to return to the payroll. So now I am faced with this dilemma– and I have no idea what to do. While forced savings are nice– there is no doubt in my mind that my tax return was anxiously awaited and thoughtlessly spent this Spring– I would like to be able to see all my earnings from the Summer on September 1st, as opposed to waiting. Which is the better choice? I cannot decide.
-Is this something that my parents would approve of? Well, I find whenever I have to ask myself that question (which is less than even I would expect,) the answer is usually “no, they would not.”
-What do I want to do with my life? Perhaps I will ask myself this very question every week of my life until I am 54, but it seems to pop up every hour at the moment. I finally moved out (finally! I’ve talked about it on my blog for years, and I know that you were all as excited as I was when I finally broke the news) and my roommates are… smart. Ambitious. Destined for unbelievable things. And I, I work at a restaurant and schmuck around beaches and walk on sidewalks. A few years ago, I had wild dreams for myself, but now, I am content with finishing a book, or enjoying a day of laying in bed and watching Instant Netflix, or ranting via skype to my best friend (who is at school in Scotland) about nothing in particular– although we especially love to rant about how we don’t envision the same things our parents that had/have in mind for us. I confessed to my roommates that I once had ambition and drive, just like them, but my summers in Falmouth were likely the cause of my sudden… lack of any kind of motivation. They laughed. The only two desires I am certain of are publishing a novel and being happy. Nonetheless, I still don’t know what I want to do with the rest of my life. I am confident that coming to Falmouth for the summer is at least a step in the right direction for the latter goal…
-Am I dying? Sometimes I think that I am. Thankfully, people like Chicken remind me that even Wayne Campbell thought he had mono, and it turned out he was just really bored. I did get one decent beach day in last week, as I meandered Falmouth, seeking entertainment of any kind, and wondering when in God’s name I would finally go back to work again. Ironically enough, once the sun finally came out (though for only a day), I got the call to come back to work for Saturday night. I’ve worked two G.O. shifts and I have doubts about if I would like to work all summer or not… Perhaps this is due to some strife with friends (yup, give me a week, and I will make you hate me. It’s easy,) but at the same time, I question how fabulous it will really be… And I swear, this has nothing to do with the fact that I am picking the spores of portabella mushrooms out from underneath my finger nails.
-What the fuck is in the corner? Well, last week, this question was more along the lines of ‘what the fuck is that sound?’ This house creaks and howls in the wind and makes terrible sounds… all the time. Especially at night. But yesterday I moved from my cozy, awesome upstairs bugalow (which was a little small), to the fantastically spacious, though chilly and slightly frightening basement bedroom. But I have a huge closet, a tv, and plenty of space for chairs and guests and maybe even another mattress for friends to stay. Reed has suggested I enter and exit strictly via bulkhead. Once it’s warm and sunny, I may actually do that. To be honest, that’s the fastest way to the fridge in the kitchen, anyway.
-What will happen if the Bruin’s lose? Possible answers: Rachel’s Dad has a heart attack, swaths of fans riot in the streets of Boston, I cut off my finger with a kitchen knife because I made the mistake of listening to the game on the radio while cooking. (Thankfully, they won Game 2 tonight.)
Filed under: College | Tags: all nighter, coffee, college, night, perks of college, shit list, slacking, sleep, Stress, work
College is excruciating. At least sometimes. Thankfully not always.
Every college student must master the ‘all nighter.’ While some students are better than others at planning out their studying and eating and internet surfing, it’s downright essential that everyone completes at least one, if not five, each semester.
Given my propensity to wait until the last minute (I’m convinced I work better under pressure,) I’ve pulled more than I can count. (Then again, my mind tries to block out the memories.) Tonight, for instance, I pulled an all nighter. An all nighter can only be considered excruciating, God awful, horrible pain when you reach that time when the caffeine makes you lightheaded, especially when you tilt your head a little to the left, and you feel as if the only way you could possibly keep your eyes open is by physically peeling your heavy eyelids open with your thumb-and-forefinger crane. Other than that, if you have an objective, a decent attitude and all the right materials, you can’t go wrong.
First things first: make a shit list. Make sure to write “SHIT LIST” in big letters at the top, and list everything that you need to do before the sunrises, in order of importance. Include check boxes next to each item so that way you can track your own progress. It will also help you feel accomplished once you can tick off ‘Read 6 chapters of macroeconomic theory’ at five AM (several hours after you began reading.) Little moral boosters like this are key to organization and a successful sleepless party for one.
Every all nighter needs all nighter provisions. What kind of caffeine source do you have? While coffee is your best bet, at most colleges, the coffee shop does close for the night. Lukewarm coffee is gross, so make sure you have a back up if yours gets nasty. I recommend Coke Zero. 
None of the calories of regular cola and just as much caffeine. It won’t leave you shaking like Monster and other energy drinks. It’s also the cheapest option, making it great for sustained intake. Snacks are also key to all nighters. Screw your diet for one hot minute. If it’s sold in a vending machine, it is fair game. Snacks serve as a great motivational tool, and eating serves as a great way to reel you back in to your studies. Bring something and keep it handy for the two AM munchies. (It happens every time!)
You might not think to ask yourself “what am I wearing?” But this can make your all nighter all the more effective. Make sure you are comfortable. No pants that cut, shoes that make your feet ache, or distracting accessories like scarves. The less you have to worry about yourself, the better. Make sure you layer in case you break out in hot flashes from all your anxiety or the room is so frigid that you wonder if you’re inside a meat locker. The boy scouts say be prepared, and I tend to agree, at least when it comes to clothes.
Pick your spot. Make sure it’s familiar enough that you don’t want to explore, yet not so familiar that you know exactly where that TV is hidden and a great place to practice for the wastepaper basketball tournament. A clean space, with few distractions and a minimal level of noise is ideal. Extra points to places without internet access. That virtually eliminates all possible distractions! Remember- if you are going to stay up all night to finish something, you want to get it done! Picking a space is key to your success. Avoid bedrooms, friend’s apartments, cafeterias, and other high traffic/high distraction areas.
The most important preparation for your all nighter: bring all your books! If you think you could possibly need it for whatever you are working on all night, bring it with you. Trust me when I say that you are not going to want to walk a third of a mile through the cold to retrieve a notebook or file at 3:38 AM. The only way you’re going back to your room is to jump into that warm, inviting bed of yours. If you can show yourself you’re actually prepared, then you will help motivate yourself to work.
If all nighters were easy, they’d call them “You after a bottle of wine.” Okay, maybe not. But really, it is difficult to stay on track while pulling an all nighter. My solution: give yourself time to fool around. You can’t realistically work for 8 hours straight without stopping for air. Give yourself ten minutes here and there to check your email, blog, tweet, or buy more provisions. If you think you won’t get back to studying, bring an egg timer or set that obnoxious alarm on your cell phone to bring you back to reality and force you to get back to work.
This might seem a bit elementary. Why Katie, of course we should stay hydrated and focused and… wh-why would anyone wear pants that are too tight? Well, there’s one thing people always forget: college students are children. We really are. Tell us that there will be a cartoon marathon or that they are giving away free cookies somewhere, and we jump right on that shit. So, keep that in mind when you’re pulling an all nighter; the more basic logic you use, the better off you will be. So if I reward my inner child I will succeed? Uhm, yeah, something like that. Just try not to put yourself up against standards that cannot be achieved. If you think the ever dubious but always satisfying 8AM all nigher nap will do you good, then go for it. Sleep for ninety minutes before your first class. Kids nap. And I’ve never met a college student who didn’t love to sleep…
Filed under: Late Night, Uncategorized | Tags: alive, bullshit, changes, Charlie Sheen, honesty, life, outside the box, resume, work
Filed under: College | Tags: call center, college, katieism, life, reasonableness, resilience, sucking it up, superficial, Villanova, work
Bank of America was calling to bitch at me. I overdrew. Again.
Penniless from book buying, random adventures, and excessive consumption of food, I decided there was nothing else I could do: I had to find a job. Fast.
But at the same time I knew I would be fucked; who wants to hire a kid with such limited hours of availability, no car, and impending trips back to Massachusetts to spend time with family for Christmas break? No one. My options were limited, so when an opportunity to work at the Villanova Phonathon fell into my lap, I applied.
I learned a little bit about the job. I choked my way through a painful interview. I somehow managed to get myself a position. I was shocked.
I was even more shocked as I went through a couple nights of training. I decided, for better or for worse, I had to keep the job and that I would continue to stomach a few shifts a week.
The day of my first shift came.
I braced myself for the worst. This might just be the shittiest job I ever have, I thought as I trucked across campus to the farthest possible building, in some swampy dark corner of campus.
But I sucked it up, even taking on extra hours for a Saturday “Blitz” calling day.
It took a few hours to pick up the gist of how a call goes, but I get it now. And I found myself pleasantly surprised. The call center job is not that bad. They feed us on occasion, and I have actually enjoyed talking to some of the parents. They have advice, and are just as interested in pretending to hear about your life at Villanova as you are interested in pretending to hear about their kid’s life at Villanova. I even have the opportunity to study or read or write while the computer dials my calls and whatnot for me. I don’t even have to get dressed to go to work.
Best of all, I feel no guilt about calling public safety to cart my ass across campus. Public safety hasn’t even said anything about my seemingly daily calls to their office, requesting a ride.
Is it the world’s best job? Hell no. Does it pay well? Not really. But, I am getting paid, and it does work with my schedule at school. They are sympathetic to finals, they pay on time, and they give you advice on your calling so you can make the school more money. Not too shabby, huh?
I am glad I haven’t quit yet.
Katieism #309: Resilience, fearlessness, and fierceness pay off, even if only marginally.
Filed under: College, Rants & Ridiculousness | Tags: class, college, Katelyn Geraghty, library, life, Scotland, sleep, St Andrews, work, Yahs
By my great friend, Katelyn Geraghty
8:00 AM- Alarm goes off. Fuck, it’s way too early for this- the sun’s not even up yet. Accidentally turn off alarm in half-awake state, go back to sleep
9:12 AM- Wake up. Going to be late for lecture again. Hop in the shower for 5 minutes, grab whatever clothes are nearby, put on as many articles of outerwear as possible, and prepare to freeze on the mile long trek to class.
10:05 AM- Make it to lecture. You’re wearing jeans, a t-shirt, and moderately priced, practical winter boots, and therefore do not come even close to looking like any of the “St Andrews girl” robots around you. Attempt to pay attention, and ignore the up/down/up stares of the girls around you at your choice of outfit.
11:00 AM- Walk out of the lecture hall. Fuck, it’s cold out. Go to the library between classes, and spend the whole time on Facebook/ having no choice but to listen to the annoying Yahs sitting near you, talking as loudly as possible about how drunk they were last night.
Noon- Tutorial. You’re weeks behind on the reading, and have nothing to say. The German kid and the American kid are arguing again, and even though you haven’t kept up with the material, you know more about the topic than they do combined. Still, you say nothing, fearful of the wrath of the German kid if you try to correct him.
1:00 PM- Tutorial’s finally over. You go back to the library to take a nap, but the place is packed. Manage to snag a booth.
1:50 PM- Fuck it, you’re not going to go to Econ. You haven’t been in weeks but listening to the lecturer read off the slides, taken verbatim from the textbook, is too much for you to handle. Why the fuck are you majoring in Econ anyway? It’s so boring. Go back to sleep.
3:28 PM- Wake up from your nap, surf the internet for a while.
4:52 PM- Drag yourself to your philosophy lecture. Reading the econ textbook (which is clearly not written for university students) is one thing, but attempting to read Aristotle is another. Plus, the lectures give you nifty quotes to incorporate into your essay, so you don’t actually have to read anything. Why is this class so late? It looks like it could be midnight, it’s so dark out.
6:01 PM- Walk down Market street to Starbucks, bracing yourself to cough up the £3 for a latte. It snowed a whopping 4 inches in the last few days, and turns out Starbucks is closed AGAIN because of the weather. Swear off this fucking town, and walk over to Costa. The queue is all the way to the door.
6:47 PM- Finally get your large latte. Promise yourself you are going to stop drinking coffee, because there’s no way you can afford it any more. Go to the library.
6:55 PM- The library is pretty empty, because everyone goes out on Tuesday nights. To the same 4 bars. Wow, this place has great nightlife! I love being around conceited Yahs and rich Americans! Continue to procrastinate in the library.
8:03 PM- You finished your coffee ages ago, and need another source of caffeine. The vending machines only have water, and are sold out anyway. You leave your computer, take your bag, and go to make a quick Tesco run.
8:14 PM- You get to Tesco, and remember that there’s no such thing as a quick Tesco run. Why the fuck is this place always so fucking packed? The shelves are completely picked over- you grab the last 2 Cokes (the diet is sold out, probably has been since 4 PM) and some skittles.
8:44 PM- That was actually quicker than you expected. As you power walk to the library, you pray that no one stole your laptop. You bring your caffeine source and snack up to your booth in the “silent zone” (food upstairs, what a badass). You get back to your booth and it’s just as you left it. Of course no one stole your laptop, it’s clearly at least 2 years old, and everyone here already has a brand new MacBook Pro. Taking yours isn’t even worth the effort. Continue to find ways to procrastinate.
9:27 PM- Skittles are actually really loud, you decide to go for something quieter next time.
10:42 PM- You try to find ways to justify going back to your room, but can’t think of any legitimate arguments, as you have written a single paragraph over the course of the whole day, none of which makes any sort of sense at all. You are so tired, and need to stay up to get work done, but can’t concentrate due to fatigue. You realize that your life has become a vicious cycle of lack of sleep- lack of work- lack of sleep.
11:17 PM- You want nothing more than to be curled up in the fetal position. The colour of the carpet reflects your attitude towards life: sick, sad, and burnt out.
Midnight- The library is closing. Fuck, it’s really cold out now. Brace yourself for the walk back. Avoid drunk people who are leaving the bars at the same time, because nothing is open past 12 here.
12:35 AM- Back in your room. Try to make yourself work, end up getting nothing done.
2:32 AM- Finally go to sleep.
8:00 AM- Repeat
The semester slide begins about now, or so I’m told.
People are getting sick, students’ proclivity to skipping class grows, and windbreaker-wearing-induced malaise bogs down the student body. I’m feeling it.
But I also feel like things are just starting! Yeah, I slept until two today, but I also had an interview to be an editor of the newspaper, plus an interview to cold call alumni for the Phonathon (part time job hell… but more on that later I am so ), and I’ve got a radio meeting, another calculus test tomorrow, and a dirty room that needs to be cleaned.
I am so busy.
I’m tired as hell, but hey, I can write that off as undiagnosed mono. (Doctor’s appointment tomorrow right after a morning full of classes.)
I’ve got things to do, and things to continue to ignore (like philosophy), and speakers to see, and meals to skip; I can’t even think about a social life. I’ve come to accept the hopelessness hardship of making friends or feeling really good about myself. I have too many other distractions and obligations.
Is a “so.. whatever” attitude the right one to have? Am I winning by signing up to do all this shit stuff? Or am I just digging my GPA a shallow grave? My priorities from two weeks ago (studying abroad, making friends, going out on weekends) have nothing to do with the ones I have today (getting my ACS homework done before one am, sleeping, figuring out my mystery illness, mentally preparing myself for Thanksgiving break.)
Is this okay? Am I really taking in to consideration what’s important for me? Or am I just working for the Man?
I’d say some more, but I have to go to a meeting for WXVU.
Filed under: Rants & Ridiculousness, Uncategorized | Tags: college, confusion, epiphany, happiness, life, money, monologue, Rant, running, sadness, work
I had a bit of an epiphany today.
It wasn’t meant to be an epiphany, and it wasn’t meant to be philosophical, and I had no intention of having a really deep conversation with Katelyn today. But I did.
It came at the right time. I was listening to Big D and the Kid’s Table rant on about living life with a checklist, after four days of extremely fucked up sleep (three nights barely able to fall asleep, and one sixteen hour snoozefest), and an entire afternoon of writing an essay on tyranny of all things.
What the fuck am I doing?
The back of my hand is blue with ink of all the things I need to do. I can’t remember the last time I took a shower, all I know is that I’m due, at least from the looks of me. I’m not eating all my meals. Time is never in numbers; it’s “in class” or “out of class” or “sunny” or “night.” I haven’t been brushing my teeth regularly, and not because I’ve neglected to, I can’t even remember to. Definitely no make up. Gym? What gym?
Katelyn was rather poignant:
She said exactly what I was thinking: I don’t know what I want to do with my life anymore.
Who the hell am I to abide by conventional standards? I was a good student, but beyond that, as a kid I was never exactly one to follow the rules or normal conventions. Recently, I have continued to pave the way for this life (or “rebellion” as my mother would probably say.)
But really, when it boils down to it, I am definitely at a crossroads right now. I have no idea which direction to go in. I know that I want to go abroad, but do I really want to be in school and have to go back to school when it’s all said and done? Not only that, but my poor Nannie doesn’t want me going abroad. She concedes, “I’m being selfish, I want you here with me,” which is understandable. I love my grandmother, and I wish I spent more time with her. But really, why shouldn’t I go abroad? I have lived in the godforsaken bubble for all those years. It’s natural to be angst-y toward where ever you grew up, but I’m missing out on a lot. Even my dozen or so trips into Philly, and countless hours on busses, travelling with all walks of life, it’s been enlightening. I want to learn something about living, not what makes a business successful. I mean, think about it: businesses are going to exist whether they have my money or not. Many of them will outlive me. What does it matter if I understand all their ins and outs?
I want to write. I want to observe people. I want to ask them what they are doing with their lives, and drink coffee with them, and see their band play at the pub, and tell everyone else about their lives, no matter how outwardly insignificant it may seem.
Last week, I listened to two women talk about how they won the Pulitzer for some crazy investigative reporting on rogue cops in Philadelphia… What started off as something kind of small soon turned into this mammoth report, that lasted several years, and grew and grew and grew. Barbara and Wendy just CAPTIVATED me with their story, their adventure, their work! I was awestruck with how amazing it all was. I don’t want to go into exactly what they did, but they inspired me. I want people to know who I am, to remember me for something, to say “Hey, I like that. That’s cool.” I don’ t know if I can really do all that within the confines of Villanova.
What do I do here? Study for tests, read text books, examine ancient literature, wake up early, stay in on weekends, eat an inane amount of sandwiches (because God forbid there be any decent to above average food within walking distance, or even food worth eating), raise my hand, listen to people talk at me, and pretend to be school spirited, happy, and generally normal. (Notice how sleep is no where in that list.)
I have tried so hard to break the mold. I am going to the Steven Colbert/Jon Stewart rally this weekend, and I plan on interviewing strangers and taking a shit ton of pictures and soaking up all that America. Okay, so maybe that sounds a little cliche, but I am going to live it up, and experience that march/rally/insanity to its fullest. Last weekend I saw Phoenix play live at the Tower Theater; I got to dance on the stage. No joke, I danced on the stage. With Phoenix! I am ferociously writing letters, to as many people as I can, all the time. I am making plans for the future. Christmas break is filled with skiing in Utah, and in Canada, plus two concerts. I have an appointment on Tuesday with the office of International Studies so I can make plans for next year. My phone calendar is over flowing with seminars, meetings, and movie times. I am trying. God, I am trying.
But I still can’t help but feel like it’s all shit. I am still just a rat in a race, pretending to give a fuck so I don’t get beat down by my parents.
Honest to God, what am I doing? Where the hell am I really going to go from here?
At least, if I stopped everything and moved across the world, I would be conceding that I don’t know what I am doing and that I don’t know what I want. But if I stopped everything and moved across the world, I would still be doing something about my indifference/confusion.
I’ve always had it good, but I am positive I can live without a lot of it. If Facebook disappeared, it would be as if someone was doing me a favor. No car? No problem. Shave down my clothes, my collections of crap, any DVD I’ve ever touched, anything that could be considered fancy, and the illusions of awesome. I’m sick of it all, anyway. I want life to feel a little more real, a little less like a constant “Go get ‘em” and a little more like I’m actually alive.
Today I am a half dead college student, paying way too much in tuition, who has only developed my bull shitting skills since I cut my summer short in mid August.
Tomorrow? Well, maybe I’ll still be talking about nothing and selling out.
Driving around Lower Cape with Lauren was fantastic… Here are our picks for best singing/dancing/tomfoolery.
I’ve got a to do list half a mile long.
It seems even longer since I have slipped into the catatonic bliss that is Senioritis.
- I have three articles I am working on.
- I have to go to the New Hampshire National Honorless Society meeting/ceremony/brouhaha at seven.
- I need to prepare for my Thursday morning meeting with Joanne regarding my project.
- I have to go see Cassidy tomorrow at 6:30.
- I need to work on my Disney itinerary.
- I have to work on that disgusting psychology project with Paige tonight.
- And that’s not all.
But you know what makes it all much better? Knowing we will feast, briefly, on the brain food that is Kimball Farm ice cream. God, my friends are good ones.
