First Day Of College

Ok, so today wasn't actually the first day of college, but I intended to write a post prior to now. In fact, I wanted to write one when I moved in last week, but it didn't happen. So here we are, on the second day of college. Apologies for that.

I'm in there somewhere!

So what's it like? Well, I'm not at Harvard. But if you didn't already know that, I'm not sure what to tell you. I am, however, at Brigham Young University, and I'm enjoying it, if I do say so myself. College is very different from high school, and the last few days have been a major adjustment. I think I'll take a little time to talk about some notable differences, for all those future generations of freshmen and anyone else who may be interested.

1. Living with other people. I have five roommates now instead of my family, and they behave very differently from my family. It will take time to get used to their individual quirks and behaviors.
2. Classes are much farther apart. On a large campus, the struggle is not only to find your classroom, but to find the building in which the class is held. I've been carrying a map lately.
3. Cooking my own food. My summer culinary crash course is serving me well thus far, but it is difficult to juggle cooking time with homework, sleep and the slim possibility of social interaction.
4. Unrealistic expectations. Most professors will claim that you need three hours outside of class for each hour in class, but if you do the math that often adds up to more than 24 hours each day, let alone the fact that I need to sleep sometime. In a world where it's literally impossible to satisfy everyone's demands, you need to learn to put your sanity ahead of school.
5. Rooming with people who stay up later than you. I sleep like a rock, so it isn't really an issue if I turn in early, but for most people this is a legitimate concern, so take note.
6. More than four classes per day. I have five on some days, which is more than I've had on a single day since junior high.
7. Fewer than four classes per day. I also have days with two. This makes it difficult to establish a routine.
8. Unprecedented levels of school spirit. It doesn't matter what sport you're watching or who the opponent is; if you're in the student section, you're fully invested. No excuses.
9. Love/hate relationships. I've developed a lot of these with various things (but not people, thankfully), school being chief among them. I like being here, but I despise homework.

I heard someone say not to let your education get in the way of college, and another not to let college get in the way of your education. Though it seems paradoxical, both of these are true. And in a way, they both say the same thing: much of our learning and growth is done outside of the classroom. It's those little things that happen each day that make us who we are, and ultimately they're the reason why I have to say I love it here.

Hic Manebimus Optime!

My Final High School Achievement

Greetings! If you read my posts regularly, you'll probably noticed that it has been several weeks since I've written anything. Don't worry, you haven't missed much. Summer has just been far less eventful than high school, and there aren't life-changing milestones coming up every other week like there were two months ago. I've just settled into a calmer pattern of working, writing (other things, I mean; obviously I've neglected this blog a little) and getting sunburned. But high school had one last milestone to throw at me: my final AP score reports.

As most current high school students and recent graduates know, AP scores were released this week. I was fairly optimistic about my performance, particularly in English Literature & Composition and U.S. Government, but I wasn't so sure on Statistics. I'm more of a hard calculations guy than a talking-about-what-numbers-might-mean guy, so the entire concept of statistics never really jived with me. I am, however, happy to report that everything worked out all right in the end.

Remember my post about the AP amulets I kept in my pockets? If not, read it. It's a personal favorite of mine. The point is, they worked! I came away with fives from all three of my tests this year, meaning I have now scored a five on every AP test I ever took. That's something I'm rather proud of, even if most of the AP credit won't help me.

In closing, I have a bit of advice to offer to anyone taking AP tests in future years. Most academic professionals will give the same formula for success. It goes something like this:

Hard Work + Dedication + Studying = 5

There is something to be said for that approach, but seeing as I had my Calculus rock with me for every test, I believe there may be an alternate path. Behold.

Pocket + Calculus Rock = 5

I think I'll let you decide which equation is more correct.

Hic Manebimus Optime!

What Would You Do For $2250?

This is the story of how I wound up registered for social dance. First of all, I'd like to apologize for once again not posting on Friday, but I was lifeguarding a swim meet for a massive chunk of the day and didn't have enough time to make it happen. (I'll also point out that it was very strange for me not to be in the pool at this meet, but at least this way I get paid.)

Before we begin, I feel I must establish how much I dislike dancing. Which is quite a bit. In fact, I would go so far as to say that the only thing on this earth that makes me more uncomfortable than dancing is tomatoes. No, I will not explain my irrational loathing of tomatoes. Just use your imagination.

Now for the real story. One of the scholarships I'm on track to receive (amounting to about $2250 for this year) requires that I provide proof of registration in at least 15 credits of classes for my first semester. That doesn't seem too bad, or so I thought. At the time I learned of this requirement, I was registered for 14 credits, meaning I needed one more credit.

This is where things get complicated. In order to come up with one more credit, I would need to add a class, preferably one I might enjoy or that could fill a graduation requirement. I had one plan to add two student activities classes (that's code for fun classes), which are half a credit each. Unfortunately, freshmen register last, and literally all of the options I was remotely interested in already had very long waiting lists. End of Plan A.

Plan B: add a cool class, where I might actually learn something useful to my career aspirations without burying myself in homework. One in particular was Innovation Boot Camp, a one-credit class that only meets twice. That's it. Twice. I would be done before my other classes even got rolling, and the class description sounded right up my alley, including developing creative reasoning and inventing skills. I was ready to register for it...until I realized it was a 300-level class. Regardless of how hard it actually is, I don't think I want to be in it with a bunch of juniors and seniors who actually know what they're doing. I had similar results with the entrepreneurship lecture series class. End of Plan B.

Plan C: take an Honors program class. These classes fill two requirements, since they're essentially cognates of two subjects. I wanted to take one on the philosophy of mortality, because it sounded much better than a repeat of my high school biology class for the same requirement. Sadly, it conflicted with other classes in my schedule, some of which had no other sections available. End of Plan C.

Plan D: music! Music 101, or Music Appreciation as we call it at home, is a three-credit class that involves listening to lots of music, learning about different time periods in music history and some basics of musical genres. It wouldn't be anything I didn't learn in my years of piano theory or French horn, so it should be just a nice, easy opportunity to listen to music. And if I thought my schedule was too overloaded, I could postpone my Intro to Honors course (two credits) and still have the 15 I need for my scholarship. Sound too good to be true? It is. That class was full too. End of Plan D.

Plan E: take a writing class? I want to pursue a creative writing minor later in my collegiate education, and several writing classes would grant me useful knowledge as I edit my first novel and embark on several others. Guess what? They all have prerequisites, which as a freshman I haven't yet filled. I'll be back, cool writing classes. Just you wait.

This leaves us with Plan F. Have you guessed what it is? It's social dance. One credit. There's a reason why the men's sections of social dance never fill up. Why's that? Because most of us guys have a natural and instinctive fear of social dance. That's what it boils down to. We fear it. Being a swimmer doesn't help much, as our kind is notoriously uncoordinated in all things that involve being...on...land. Dancing takes place on land. That's bad.

But here I am. Having exhausted all alternatives, I am enrolled in social dance. Hooray for scholarship requirements. Of course, I suppose there are worse ways to get $2250.

Hic Manebimus Optime!

So This Is Summer

I feel I should warn you that I'm going to go light on the deep, philosophical statements this time around. With it being the season of fast-paced action and shallow beach reads, it only seems fitting to write something goofy. After all, life as a Reject isn't all hard-core motivational speaking. Sometimes it's building a sasquatch nest out in the woods somewhere. More on that later.

First of all, I've been working quite a bit this week. I'm a lifeguard, which means lots of sunscreen, brutal heat, politely yelling (yes, that is indeed possible) at small children, and more sunscreen. So with all that sun, shouldn't I be working up a pretty good tan soon?

The answer is no. Actually, for several years I've been convinced that I'm immune to tanning. I like to joke that I look like Michelangelo chiseled me from stone--not because of muscle, but because I'm that pale. I'm putting forth effort to change that this year, so by the end of the summer I'll be able to call it one way or the other, but for now all I've got is a single random sunburn patch on one leg.

Nevertheless, all this time in the sun has ushered in the summer spirit, so we decided to go up the canyon for a family cookout. Right now I'll point out that it's really awesome to have a good forest close to home. Not everyone has one. Oh, and also I believe myself to be pretty good at building campfires.

The strangest thing was that a short distance from our picnic table, we found a large bowl shape built out of rocks, easily big enough to fit two or even three people. It was rather shabby and uncomfortable, but nothing a few minutes, a lot of rocks and a wealth of Lego experience couldn't fix.

By the time I was done with it, our little sasquatch nest was amazingly comfortable. I'm not kidding. I put down flat stones like tiles in the bottom, and I honestly felt like I could take a nap right there. Who needs memory foam when you've got good old rocks?

Call us the Rock Ness Monsters.

Just one more thing. I practiced making a s'more variant that involves cooking biscuit dough on a specialized stick to make a cup shape and then filling it with chocolate and marshmallows. I'm still perfecting my technique (It's very tricky, in point of fact), but when I get it right I'll devote a post to it.

That's all I've got right now. No deeper message, no moral, just me and all of my strangeness. Man, I love summer.

Hic Manebimus Optime!

I Graduated. Now What?

One week has transpired since I graduated from high school, and I have had one very important epiphany: it's really hard to remember what day it is when you aren't going to school or work every day. That is why this post is coming out on a Saturday instead of my standard Friday. I actually forgot it was Friday until it was too late. Go me.

Even so, I'm fascinated by the emotional journey I've been subjected to in the last week. This is roughly how my thought process tracked through the first few days:

Day 1 (Graduation): Wow, this is so nice! We actually did it!
Day 2: I'm going to take a day off. I'd say I earned it.
Day 3: I suppose I should start trying to be proactive now. Where's something to do?
Day 4:  Wait... it's Monday... NO SCHOOL! YES!
Day 5: I'm never going to see any of my friends again...
Day 6: There's still social media, right? *logs on to various networks* Hey, wait a second... am I the only one who didn't go on a senior trip? How come I didn't get invited?
Day 7: You mean I actually have time to pursue my hobbies now?
Day 8: Nope, cancel that. I work six days next week.

And here we are.

That said, I'd like to point out that I did actually accomplish some things in the past week. I think I'll list some of them for you. Perhaps it'll give someone ideas on what to do with all this extra time we've inherited, now that we've graduated. But mostly because I just like lists.

Things I Did After Graduation

1. Got a job (lifeguarding, to be specific. Gotta work on that tan. Actually, I don't tan. I just get less white.)
2. Cleaned off my desk at home. I might actually use it, now that school's over. (I had a tendency to do homework wherever I was when I opened my backpack--usually the living room floor.)
3. Cleaned some more in several other rooms in the house. Mostly mine. I don't think it's been fully cleaned since elementary school.
4. Yard work! Garden planting, lawn mowing...trying to make my skin change from translucent to opaque...
5. Learned to cook some things I enjoy eating (hard core college survival skills, right there. I'm going to need to be a master of making something other than pie. I am good at pie.)
6. Started writing another book (and no, I am definitely not one of those people who starts a hundred books and winds up with a pile of Chapter Ones. I'll cover that in a later post.)

So that's basically it. I was expecting to get through graduation and discover my all-new adult self, but much to my dismay I'm still me. Apparently there is no switch to pull to turn you into a responsible adult. I suppose the best thing one can do is apply oneself and hope for the best. I've found that persistence trumps everything, so with luck I'll get the hang of this post-graduation thing pretty soon. We'll see what strange foods I'm cooking next week.

Hic Manebimus Optime!

Spread Your Wings And... Fall?

Today, I graduated from high school. Graduation means a lot of things to a lot of people, but for me, it's the culmination of thirteen years of exhausting work. After this, I never have another day of public school again, and that's just fine with me.

The ceremony was especially interesting because as a French horn player, I was duty-bound to play in the orchestra onstage. Let me just point out to you that it is very difficult to provide the music at graduation whilst simultaneously graduating. Fortunately, it went smoother than I expected.

Apart from that, I realized that the real beauty of the ceremony lies in how it brings people together. I bumped into a lot of friends from way back in elementary school, most of whom I haven't seen much the last few years, and we picked it up like it was yesterday. It felt natural, that the people we started with should be the people we ended with.

Me and my long-lost crowd of elementary school homies

Plus, I got balloons! And who doesn't like balloons? Okay, maybe I have a strange fascination with them that most others lack, but they're still nice. When they behave, that is.

Balloons!

When balloons refuse to comply with your wishes. Dirty rebels.

Okay, at this point the balloons are winning.

I could go on talking about the ceremony, all the extra honorary things I wore over my gown, the strange mix of emotions associated with the event and all that other graduation junk, but today that's not my focus. I'll likely talk about school withdrawal and post-graduation depression in a week or two, but today I've set about to provide you with a meaty philosophy nugget, and that's what I'm going to do.

One of the speakers at the ceremony (a friend of mine, I might add) made the point that "if you're careful enough, nothing good or bad will ever happen to you." I let that sink in for a moment, then heard another bit that's just as good: be more afraid of mediocrity than failure. Now combine that with the theme for this year's graduation, "fortune favors him who dares," and you've got a pretty nice thesis going. They all encourage us to take risks, because risks lead to greater rewards.

During the speeches, a teacher at my school was quoted, saying "spread your wings and soar." The story behind said teacher's incessant eagle metaphors is deserving of its own post, so I might do that later. But essentially, if you combine all of these, you get go out and try something, because even if you fail, at least you're not mediocre. That appeals to me, because as a Reject I've tried and failed at plenty of things, and I think it's really the only way to get things done in life.

So this is what I leave you with: Go out and fail at something. That seems like a really weird piece of advice, and I'll admit that it is, but growing accustomed to trying things no matter how impossible the odds are will lead you to greater success in the long run. Who knows? If you keep trying, you just might accomplish something amazing.

Hic Manebimus Optime!

That Empty Locker Feeling

With only one week left of high school now, the end-of-year procedures have begun, and the nostalgia is hitting hard. AP tests are over, meaning the pressure has been removed from most of my classes, and what remains shouldn't be too hard. Seeing as I essentially only have a stats project left to do (really a glorified free-response problem), I've had some time to think the deep thoughts.

Today was locker clean-out. That's normally a joyous occasion, signifying the end of the work and a beginning of summer. It's one half of a cycle; you find your locker at the beginning of the year, and empty it at the end. In practice, however, clean-out seems to come first, and new lockers second. This is because the distance between clean-out and new locker is only three months, whereas the distance between new locker and clean-out is nine months. The two events serve less as bookends to the school year as they do for the summer. The summer begins with emptying your locker, and ends with getting a shiny new one.

My problem is that this time, the summer won't end with a new locker. I don't get to look forward to returning to old friends, perfecting my paths across the school and embracing my higher status in the school hierarchy. This time, it's over. This is it. At the end of this summer, I won't be returning to someplace familiar, someplace that has become a part of me through all the laughter and tears. I'll be in a whole new place, far from home, in a sea of strangers, trying to navigate the world I've been dropped into.

That realization is what led me to understand the true significance of my locker. This year, I didn't use it for much. In fact, I put my physics textbook in it on the first day of school, and didn't open it again until I needed to stash my lunch during AP tests two weeks ago. Why, then, should I be sad about letting it go?

The truth is, a locker isn't just a locker. I could've kept my physics book at home. Some would argue that I should have (though I assure you I have excelled in the class without it). I put that book in my locker because I didn't want it to be empty. My schedule did not require that I use it as extensively as I have in previous years, but I wanted to keep something in it anyway. A locker provides a sense of place, a feeling of belonging. It's your spot in the school, a link that ties you to the environment where you spend the craziest years you've ever lived through (thus far, of course). Having something in my locker made me feel that I had a place there. It was a sort of anchor, not something I consciously thought about, but something that was always there. And I think that subconscious stability helped me through what I believe to be my hardest year of school.

That's why it was painful for me to turn the knob and pull the lever for the last time, to take that dusty physics book back to the school library. When I walked away from that locker, I severed my last tangible tie to my school.

Don't get me wrong, I'm glad it's almost over. I never loved school, homework or getting up before dawn for swim practice. But this is the place where I've practically lived for years. This is where I've been through the good times and bad, growing up and learning new things, and trying to figure out who I am. This is where I met half my friends, and I know that there are some I'll likely never see again. All these things are integral parts of my high school experience. Those memories are tied to this place, and my locker is my slice of that place. It's a symbol of my identity.

So without a locker, what am I? In the past I've identified as a swimmer, a musician, a nerd. Those are all things connected to high school, and without that, what's left? All external sources of self-definition have been removed, and the next time I walk into a classroom, I'll have nothing to tell me what I am. This time, I'll have to discover what I'm really made of. And at the end of the day, once the dust settles, I can tell you I'm excited to find out.

Hic Manebimus Optime.