Wednesday, September 5, 2012

Avoiding Reading about Beethoven...

This is what I do when homework is not in my vocabulary.

I blog.

I'm going to the English department picnic this afternoon. I wasn't gonna go, but I really wanted to. I just didn't have a ride and I didn't have anyone to ask. I finally caved and asked my mom if I could go, because--let's face it--I have no friends. The few I made last year have graduated, and the people left that I know are people I don't particularly like. So I'm desperately trying to make friends before I graduate.

A girl in my Pop Culture class sent out an e-mail asking someone to ride with her to the field trip Friday. I was going to ride in a school van, but I felt kind of bad for her and I know the area pretty well, so I told her I'd go. That's something I never do. Hell, riding in a van is something I'd never do. I'd usually just ask my mom to take me and pick me up, so I wouldn't be forced into an uncomfortable situation. But life is made up of uncomfortable situations.

It's hit me recently that this is it: my last year of school. Grad school is not in my near future, and in the four+ years I've spent in undergrad--two at JCC and a little over two at Fred--I can count the number of new friends I've made on one hand...maybe two. When I say new, I mean new...people I had never met before graduating high school.

I've never been very good at making friends my own age. I just tend to relate better to professors, teachers...other adults. I don't know why. Maybe it's because I entrust my words to them. I hand them my thought and ideas in typed pages, and freely let them judge me without wondering what the consequences might be. But when it comes to peers in class...all I ever do is consider the consequences. I rarely speak up in class, and when I do...I'm automatically being judged. Or at least, I feel like I am.And it's funny because in reality, it is the professor that does the the form of a grade. I don't know. I have plenty of acquaintances, sure. People at work, people in class, one I hang out with. No one I can ask for a ride to the picnic.

So I'm trying. I'm trying to be more social. I'm trying to get to know people. That girl who struck up a conversation with me in class, that actually knew what Castle was about, even if she hadn't seen it--I added her on Facebook. Today in Steinberg's class, I actually volunteered an idea, even though it was terrifying to do so. I took a workshop style writing class with a professor I already trust, so that maybe I can learn to trust myself and my ideas with more than just the person wielding the red pen. I'm just desperately hoping that maybe, before it's too late, college will teach me about more than books; maybe, I'll finally learn how to be more than who I am.

Wish me luck.

Allyson Rae

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