10 Things I Wish Someone Had Told Me Before Freshman Year At A Liberal Arts College

Actual photo I took during the first of week of my freshman year

Sometimes, I still can't believe I graduated college. It seems like just yesterday that I was sitting in the backseat of my parents' Honda van, surrounded by plastic drawer units and trash bags full of clothes that I hoped would convince my soon-to-be college peers that I was worth befriending. It seems like yesterday that I was sitting in my first literature class, wide-eyed and excited for the new worlds I was about to discover. And it seems like just yesterday I was lying on a Mexican blanket in the university's botanical gardens with my friends only to suddenly realize, in horror, that a few feet away, a girl I knew was in the process of stripping down to her underwear in full view of students and families alike.

My roommate must have seen the expression of panicked confusion on my face. "Oh, don't worry about Rachel," she said. "It must be the acid. She's never taken twelve hits at once before, but she'll be fine!"

Meanwhile, Rachel had started what can only be described as "frolicking intently" through the gardens, simultaneously yelling, "The police are coming! They're going to make me famous!"

Welcome to the liberal arts experience. 

It's just not like other colleges. If other universities are marked by football rivalries and fraternity parties, liberal arts universities are marked by face paint, Marxism, and a quiet yet pervasive understanding that shoes are a social construct. My school was more akin to some weird, sexually liberated summer camp than anything else, especially during the first year.

I know it might seem unfathomable right now, but the time in which frolicking naked in a public space will be seen as remotely normal is extremely limited. But now, since I am a wise, graduated adult who can finally understand complex concepts like "student loan repayment plans" and "drinking excessively instead of applying to another unpaid internship," I am here now as your sage, to offer you the advice that I wish I had that day in the Honda van.

1. "What is your spirit animal?" is not a valid conversation starter past freshman year.

I know, it seems like a really great opener instead of asking what someone's major is. And I will concede, I made a lot of friends freshman year by saying things like, "Some days, I feel like I'm a squirrel, but at heart, I'm like, definitely a fox," and "human beings were never meant to wear shoes." These phrases are guaranteed to win you hippie cool points with your new friends, and maybe even free weed if you're lucky. However, it is equally guaranteed that if you ever go to a job interview with these babies in your pocket, you will not get the job. Unless the job is a head shop. And even then, you still might not get the job.

2. Stick and poke tattoos: proceed with caution.

These were all the rage for a brief period of time. It seemed like everyone  had a bottle of India ink, safety pins, and a butt tattoo. Because peer pressure is real, I decided I NEEDED a stick and poke and that it would be super edgy to do an upside down cross on my middle finger because Tyler the Creator has one. I only realized this was a dumb idea after I had already started, at which point I decided to just "freehand" a tree branch instead. The tree branch didn't work out, so I decided to turn it into an anchor, which (surprise) also did not work out, and that's why I have a weird light blue marking on my middle finger that looks like the letter R. It took me years to come to terms with this stupidity.

3. If you're really friends, you should be able to have fun in situations that do not involve alcohol.

This one isn't really exclusive to a liberal arts school, but it's important nonetheless. A little partying is absolutely a rite of passage, but at the end of the day, it's all the in-between moments that build lasting friendships. A real friend is someone who will not only take shots with you, but also learn the bus system with you, be your partner in crime, and lay in bed giggling and listening to Ella Fitzgerald on Friday night instead of going out.

4. Similarly, there is more to romantic compatibility than drinking in the same places on the weekend and having the same taste in music.

This is a tricky one. Because while you should want to spend quality time with a significant other, enjoy the tunes they have on their iPod, and also appreciate the types of clothes they choose to drape over their body, these things do not a good relationship make. Pants that make their butt look good can only take a relationship so far. Try evaluating other aspects of the relationship including but not limited to: "Am I embarrassed to be seen with you in public?," "Do you make me feel safe and present?,"  or "Do I actually hate you but haven't realized it yet because you're cute?" 

5. Don't sell drugs just because you "know a guy."

This happened to one of my roommates. Apparently she sold ecstasy for a month or so because she had a connection and thought it would be a good way to make extra money. It turned out that the ecstasy was terrible quality and she got no repeat customers. Also this comes with the possibility that you might get arrested in a dorm room drug raid. So don't do that. 

6. White people: do not dreadlock your hair.

In case you haven't been on the Internet in the last five years, click here for a refresher course on cultural appropriation.

7. College classes and therapy appointments are two different things.

If I had a dollar for every time someone overshared details from their life in class, I would be able to buy a lifetime supply of Trader Joe's wine. And not to be overly negative or whatever, but no one's paying $4,000+ per semester to listen to you dissect the psychological underpinnings of why you had a bad relationship with your parents in elementary school, or how you and your best friend Becky went to the national spelling bee contest and had to ride the D.C. metro alone and saw a homeless person and it was a totally traumatizing experience. Please. Tell this to your friends. Tell this to your roommates. Tell this to literally anyone in any setting besides class. 

8. Snorting melatonin will not make you fall asleep faster.

Not like I know this from personal experience or anything! 

9. Getting involved is the coolest thing you can do.

Don't fall for the popular cultural lie that apathy is cool! You know what's actually cool? Investing time and energy into your passions, and having something to show for it. Being interested in student government might not necessarily be glamorous freshman year, but by senior year, being in a position to increase the amount of locally grown, organic food in the school cafeteria will be. Spending all your time in your room painting might be seen as weird freshman year, but snagging a post-grad art residency after college is anything but weird. College is a unique time for fostering your interests with relatively few other responsibilities. Take advantage of that.

10. There is something very ironic about using your Macbook to post Facebook statuses about how much you "h8 #capitalism."

But you won't realize that until later.

Life in Word Series 2/3: Love

Love

ləv/

noun

noun: love; plural: loves

1. an intense feeling of deep affection.
   “babies fill parents with intense feelings of love”

Out of three definitions with seven sub definitions when used as a noun and one definition with one sub definition when used as a verb, this is Googles number one pick for the definition of love.

Us as humans use the word “love” when it comes to our feelings towards multiple things. This word seems to be the only word that justifies the greatest capacity of feeling that takes ahold of us when something or someone holds substantial control. We all know what love can do... At least some of us to a certain extent, but yeah...we all know due to the fact that we've either experienced it personally or we have experienced it second hand.

I have recently learned of an incident that happened a few months ago where someone close to me was involved. And by close I mean a family member. Anyone that holds any trace of the same blood is, in my opinion, physically close but not exactly relatively. Although it's been on the news and all over the internet, I won't share any details. But this is just another episode of the craziest things that love can make you do. To this point is where you have to stop, focus and justify for yourself whether or not this love is real, worth the risk and if you're better off without. I'd say, if at this point you are not able to justify, that at this point you are being taken advantage of.

If a love fails, then it isn't real

That, my friend, is a fact.

So yeah, not only is this Googles number one pick for the definition of love, but it is also my favorite. Why? Well, it's the only definition that explains love in its truest form. But not because of the actual definition, it's because of the sentence that has been given as an example.

Examples are always the most accurate ways to help others understand what something really means.

Of course, I didn't experience love through Googles definition. I experienced love through my almost twenty-three years of life! It all started when I was conceived. I can't remember what it was like to be in my mothers womb, but I know for sure since that moment, that she nurtured me with the most natural parts of her body. Our love is more intimate than the love that she and my father share.

Some where along the way I forgot about that. It's a cycle a we all go through. Ya know, puberty. Sometimes, we find our way back and sometimes we don't. Although I had forgotten about the ways my mother had nurtured me, she never did. No matter how out of control I got, she always found a way to keep me in line. She remained strong and her faith is an undying faith. That has always been my mothers way of showing me that she loves me... She nagged me.

I never wanted to hear it. I never tried to understand. She wanted me to stay close, so I purposely decided to go to college away from home. I was finally all on my own ready to adult...haha. I experienced life for what it really is and people for who they really are.

In situations where love seemed apparent, time after time I had to stop and focus to analyze whether the pain I was feeling was worth my time or if it was for the birds. For years I was confused about love. It was always the phase of infacuation. I could never get past infacuation because I never understood what love really is.

Just as Rihanna, aka Bae, says in one of her hit singles, We Found Love, it was true. I found love in the most hopeless place. I found it in myself. And it turns out all I had to do was focus in order to find it. Who would've known it was so damn easy!

It was the song by Avicii, Wake Me Up, that literally woke me up! I was in my bathroom in an apartment that I had in Charlotte, North Carolina. I had my makeup done, all my jewlery and swore I was looking too cute about to head to class. All I know is that I was high as fuck, staring at myself in the mirror when I heard the lead singer say these words: All this time I was finding myself and I didn't know that I was lost. I couldn't help but break down and cry. All the things that I thought I was becoming, that I thought made me look good, all made me feel ugly. I immediately knew that I was in the midst of letting society conform me. So I never made it to class and through love I began the journey to finding my true self.

How I Live Now

A few years ago, the person sitting in front of this screen, writing words to brace for the moments of rapid fire life changes, was crying uncontrollably at the prospect of not accomplishing goals assigned by a lifetime of necessity and circumstance. Reminiscing on those times, allowing the soul to laugh, deeply, deriving immeasurable pleasure from the fantastic scale of naiveté. Dreading the minutest change, defined by social accessibility and need, perhaps these were the superficial moments, empty of any true motifs worth expanding upon.

It was the only way I knew how to live but to die with some kind of traction. Built on a lifetime of self perceived let-downs and endeavors, life's explanations weren’t meant to be explored. Droning along the river of existence, bumping into the shores of legitimate career opportunities. Knowing full well the things wanting to be changed would fulfill the necessities of moments, outside of a lifetime's reach. Maddening perpetuated in noise constantly dialed into subconscious, the silent agreements.

How I live now is based on day to day salutations of the life there once was. Through the trials of abdominal black holes, unseen spinal protrusions and uncontrollable addiction to sensory deception, the body and mind have been forced to slow down. Slow down so much so to be unrecognizable to a mind burdened by preconceived notions about who the person perceived, is supposed to be. Breathing slowly with the active moments, in the parts of the body creaking into consciousness.
Attaining daily meditation and paying attention to the force of air on morning commutes, as the train arrives in a gale force, reminding the soul that the adventure is still there, and this moments honor needs respect too.

How I live now,is a mystery to the person that came before. The notions of realistically attainable abilities no longer are overridden by the ever-present need to feel burnt out, to derive accomplishment from self destruction and sacrifice.

How I live now does not embarrass an image held too unsustainable standards, by plateaus and journeys with no end to imagine a world with a slightly warmer heart. Working in the service of wonders and space. The need to prove every doubt wrong for the sake of putting the perceived harm in its place is missing.

I choose to live, even with the mistakes.

How I live now: I choose to live even with the mistakes, the ones made constantly for they teach the wisdom of immunity. To listen to those around me for the cracks in hoping to help and love. To be available for the love to enter the soul once again, having so long sought to shield this life, for fear of returning to a place of vulnerability.

How I live now, amongst the infinite unknowns of everyday, warms the feet on a cold days. No longer forgoing that feeling that tells me to “go” from those places that aren’t working but fit the description of normal. The warring factions of who I am and what I do don’t hold me accountable for the time lost on figuring out ideal rights and wrongs.

How I live now isn’t something to brag about, but its impossible to not want to share.

'Cause how I live now teaches the me everyday that the feeling of cliche when putting a smile on any face, is enough, and so might I be.