Episode I: A New Hope (that Episode II is easier to write)

     So, nostalgic entry #1. Definitely harder to write than I thought. In fact, this is one of those entries that makes you want to launch your computer out of a ninth story window and tap dance in its mangled remains. It's almost impossible to condense 4 years of life into one decent sized entry, but without some back story tomorrow's entry won't work. Go figure, yeah? After more revisions than I care to admit to, I decided I'd try to leave you with the bullet points. I was a weird kid, who by some unfathomable stroke of luck tripped into the best collegiate experience possible.

    

     The first thing you should know about college and LSU is that I spent the 18 years prior to my enrollment idolizing it beyond reason. I don’t remember the exact moment that I realized I was not, in fact, a product of the frozen tundra; but I know that it must have been quite the epiphany. If nothing else, it started an 18 year quest to return to my homeland. Over time I decided that all of my worldly problems could be resolved if I could just get back to Louisiana. In fact, by 4^th grade I had decided that I was going to LSU for college and woe be it unto anyone who questioned my devotion. I spent a week sans recess for telling my teacher that it didn’t matter what she thought of my math skills, I was going to LSU and they wouldn’t care about long division.

     That was the first of many misconceptions about college.

     But, despite being a dumb little kid, I did eventually make it to my senior year of high school. When I applied to LSU, I still had the idea that all things right with the world awaited me in Baton Rouge. This idea was supported by a score of relatives and acquaintances who were convinced that I was going to epic fail as soon as I crossed the Mason Dixon line. They all seemed convinced that once the homesickness, academic pressure, and dining hall food converged on me, I would be booking the next flight out of New Orleans and moving back home. It was the general consensus, I think, that out-of-state college would not agree with me. But I’ve always been too dumb to be properly scared, and clearly things couldn't get worse, so the day I turned 18 I packed up a rented van and made my great escape.

     Best. Decision. Ever.

     I loved everything about college. Even my first weeks of classes, during which I had all the grace of a puppy learning to run on a linoleum floor, were beyond great. For one thing, the sports were epic. I was no longer the only New Orleans Saints fan in a 50 mile radius, and my first Saturday night in Death Valley was magical. Even better than the sports was the living situation. While being an only child has its perks, it has nothing on sharing a building with your best friends. It was like having a family that didn't think I was a freak of nature, and for the first time in years I wasn't lonely.

     I'll admit, it wasn’t all perfect. For example, I had some of the craziest roommates known to mankind. One spent the entirety of the school year watching Spongebob DVDs in our dorm room and crunching Special K cereal at an absolutely inhuman volume. Another spent the first three days of our cohabitation giving me a list of the names and majors of all the poor souls she made out with the previous year. And while some of her stories had comedic value, (one night she came home with a bra full of playing cards after a freshman at a frat party tried to impress her with magic tricks – she was beyond irate and hilarity ensued) she was way more annoying that funny. I also had some seriously insane teachers. My personal favorite spent the first week of class explaining how everything bad that EVER happened in the Caribbean was my fault for being a middle class American, and then tried to fail our entire class. Luckily she gave us an “artistic option” for the final, and completely bought my attempt at finger painting as “a symbol of the organic power of literature”.


Can you believe this thing got an A?



     Even with the aforementioned shenanigans, college was definitely agreeing with me. For the first time in years I was actually doing well. I discovered Raising Cane's, yoga, and my love of shoes. I could finally put together an outfit that wouldn't land me on 'What Not to Wear'. Things were finally going my way. So naturally there had to be a failure of epic proportions to bring the universe back into balance. That failure was my graduation. LSU threw me out on my ass and into premature adulthood.

     That happy thought, however, is for tomorrow. In the mean time, please accept my apologies for this abomination of an entry. I promise that the next one will kick all kinds of ass. If not, I will buy each and every one of you ice cream. And a puppy. Until then, May the fourth be with you.

xoxo

Elyse in Wonderland