Don’t Peak in Your First Year

I know. It’s exciting. You walk on campus and become consumed by the smell of alcohol and bad decisions. You parents were protective in high school and sitting at home with a plate of pizza rolls and a Wheel of Fortune marathon was your idea of a crazy Friday night. But you’re finally here. Finally free. Finally able to spin the Wheel of Blissful Regret on the Oxford Square. You can’t wait to call your hometown best friend about your drunken hookup or your first time smoking ” the drugs “. You can’t wait to have the experiences Netflix told you you should be having. But these are just thoughts that come on the first week, you know, the week before classes start. Fast forward two months and it’s Sunday night and you’re crying because that drunk hook up never called you back and you spent all your money on drugs that in way made you feel like that episode of Workaholics described it and you have a midterm tomorrow at 8am when you haven’t been to class in three weeks. Suddenly those long awaited bad decisions that you so desperately wanted to make, just become bad decisions. Suddenly it’s Friday night and you’re begging for a night in to watch GSN. Suddenly you realize that maybe being lame all those years wasn’t so bad.

Or maybe that’s just me…

Then vs. Then

During last semester, I changed so much as a person.. more than I thought anyone ever could in only four months. Reading my first ever daily write reminded me of just hoe excited I was to be at college. I was bright eyed and bushy tailed and ready to begin the best four years of my life. I had visions of drinking all weekend, sleeping all day, skipping class just enough to where I would still pass, I never thought that college could bring any “shitty first drafts” my way. Then shit hit the fan. In my final post last semester I reflect on EDHE, struggling with how much was expected of me in classes, and losing my grandmother. My first post was optimistic and naive quite frankly, picking Ole Miss because I didn’t like the color orange, but my last post gave me new reasons, real reasons, for why I picked Ole Miss; having the support from my friends like Fred, Jeremy, and Mary Catherine and being able to reply on professors like Prof. Jackson and Mrs. B gave me a whole new insight into what being a student at the University of Mississippi means to me. Between August 22nd and December 3rd, my faith was tested in more ways than one: why did she have to pass away so soon, why are these exams so hard, is college even right for me- but by December, my faith was stronger than ever. I knew Ole Miss is where I belonged. Not because they have my major and not because the color orange is no where on campus, but because even when everything goes wrong, this is still the only place I feel like I belong.