he took one look at my face and said "I can fix that hole in you"

THE FOLLOWING POST is a little lengthy, and it is much less philosophical than the last. It's much more in the nature of storytelling. Today was a day worthy of such a blog post, as you'll see...


If there is some kind award for the most awkward freshman, I think I should win it.
I'm beginning to wonder whether or not I have the adaptability to handle enormous transitional periods...

I don't think there was a more horrible way to begin this day.
So, first I woke up to some banging down the hallway, about an hour before my alarm went off. It was incessant. Apparently, someone had been locked out. But how he managed to wake me up without waking his roommate up is beyond me...
But, this wasn't a huge deal; I fell back asleep and woke up on time.
I headed over to Frank's for some breakfast. I even brought my Chemistry notes so as to utilize my time wisely! (unfortunately, as you'll see, this hindered me more than anything...)
I had just finished paying for my food at the cashier station and was about to sit down. I grabbed my cup filled with hot water (for tea!), but I must have been moving ENTIRELY too fast, and it consequently spilled all over my right hand.
"Oh my, are you okay?" the cashier had asked dispassionately.
"Yeah, I think I'm fine," I said, somewhat nonchalantly. I was going to add that spilled water was the least of my worries today. Unfortunately, the opposite would be true.
As I was walking away, I started to lose grip of my tray with my left hand. I don't quite remember how it happened, but I dropped my entire tray of food. It was horrible. And there I was, in the cafetria, the shattering still resounding among the superficial din of the room. I wanted to fucking cry. I was so incredibly stressed out, and that was the last thing that needed to happen.
I immediately set my books down on a nearby table, and ran back to my dumped tray. Thankfully, a student-employee had already begun to sweep it up. He told me not to worry about it.
I later found some friends from my dorm, and asked them what I was supposed to do now. They said I could take a new tray of food at no extra charge; it wasn't a big deal. However, in this short conversation, I noticed that the skin on my hand had begun to tear and fold away, exposing the delicate pink flesh underneath. Oh shit.
"That looks really bad," Alyssa, a girl from my dorm, had said.
"Yeah, I'd definitely get that looked at," Joey added.
"But I have lecture at 9:30. I don't really have time!"
"Skip it, you need to get that looked at."
I stirred over the decision in my mind and got a new tray of food.

This was the worst possible ultimatum ever: miss my LAST Philosophy lecture before the exam on Thursday and get my hand taken care of, or show up to it in immense pain.
I urgently ran to some other friends in the dorm. I went to Rachel first because she seemed knowledgeable on First Aid procedures (she had taken care of me on a prior date).
Even she said I should go to UHS (University Health Services) to get it looked at. If I tried to treat it myself, it could get infected.
This is also coupled with the fact that I had no freaking clue how to treat a burn.

So, I made up my mind to skip lecture and go to UHS.

...

"Just so you know, this isn't a walk-in clinic..." the receptionist had said to me.
It's amazing that she still had the audacity to mention this valuable little tidbit while my hand was still oozing pus. I understand that my situation wasn't exactly an emergency, but Christ, did I need to be having a heart attack in order to get some medical attention?
"I'm sorry, but the nurse is with someone else right now. You can wait, if you want."
"Well, I really don't have time..." I replied.
"Well, you know, these are decisions we all have to make... it's your own health care...."
I almost lost it at that point. I walked out, took the elevator all the way down to the first floor (in tears, mind you) and called my dad. I had no idea what to do at that point.
"Well, how bad is it?" my dad asked.
"I don't know, but I look like fuckin' Freddy Krueger with this hand... I've never had a burn like this before..."
Eventually, my dad convinced me that it'd be better to go and get it taken care of, since I was already there.

The nurse, when she was finally ready, was actually really sweet.
The only horrible part was when she had to peel off the excess skin with a tweezers. It wasn't horrifically painful, but I couldn't help but imagine what it would feel like if she had kept peeling my wound, till she had covered my entire arm, and then my torso, and then my entire body...

Somewhere in the midst of all this, I also couldn't help but think, "Wow, this will make great blogging material, eh?"

...

Ah, yes, but I guess I'll just rack up the whole experience up on my list of awkward freshman moments. I have many. I may compile them on here some day, for giggles. or to recount my misery... whatever you prefer, really.


Additionally, I guess the decision was made on my roommate:
He will be moved to another dorm if a room opens up. To be honest, I'm a little scared. I don't want him to leave. We aren't BFFs or anything, and we did have a bit of a falling-through when he made some rather insensitive comments about me, but all in all, we coexist. I trust him with my stuff in the room. He trusts me. It's all good.
The whole concept of some random straggler moving in with me is kind of frightening.
It could be infinitely horrible, or infinitely wonderful too, I guess.

I feel that their reasons for kicking Alex out are a bit faulty. They think he's going to be a "bad influence" on the dorm. But I think that's a complete crock. Yes, Alex drinks a lot, but if you don't drink, his mere presence won't make you WANT to drink or to completely disregard your morals. Additionally, everyone in the dorm LOVES him. I feel bad that he's going to have to start over entirely in a new dorm. Though I'm sure his new living mates will be equally as ENAMORED with him...

His ability to make people like him is something I still cannot completely understand. But that is a separate topic entirely, and I need not divulge at this moment.


...

ANYWAYS,
other facets of college life are going well. I'm doing pretty well in my classes.
I have A's in French and Linguistics (which, frankly, I'd be suprised if I DIDN'T have A's in those classes, since they are so easy) and a B in Chemistry. I didn't do AS WELL as I had wanted on this last Chem exam, but eh, I still have time to fix the grade. I'm not sure what exactly I'm getting in Philosophy, because we've only had two assignments... The prof didn't send out any six week grades.

I am not auditioning for the School of Music in November. I realized that I simply do not have enough time to prepare a well-polished audition in time. I still may audition for next year, but I don't know quite yet.

In all honesty, I'm still so confused about even broader ideas about the future. I don't even know if I want to stay here at Madison. Yes, it's a school of great quality, but there are many things about it I don't exactly dig. First of all, the whole party-school image is a little frustrating. Secondly, Madison is not a city. Madison is a college town. Despite whatever you hear, it is most definitely a college town. I miss the feel of that true urban landscape... I miss Milwaukee. I know for many Milwaukee is a pathetic little wisp of a city, but I had grown to love it in time. It's also a "city" in the truest sense. It is not a mere college town.
I miss Brady Street and Rochambo and the Hookah bar. I miss the Lakefront. I miss the Starbucks on every corner. I even miss West Allis and Johnny V's.
I always have these brief moments of epiphinal understanding, where my future just seems so simple and clear. A few minutes ago, for example, I was just sitting at my desk listening to Acid Tongue by Jenny Lewis (whose lyrics are affixed to the title of this entry) and suddenly, everything seemed clear. I imagined myself back in Milwaukee. I imagined myself attending UWM. I imagined myself happy and free in the urban setting, not trapped inside this gigantic research institution.
In a way, I feel slightly ungrateful. I know many who would KILL to go to UW-Madison, but I am just not entirely sure yet if it is for me. It very well could be, for all I know. Just at the moment, I'm struck with this city-allure that only the warmth of Milwaukee can truly cure.

And other times I have moments where I think that remaining here in Madison wouldn't be so bad after all. In fact, it could be wonderful. I could rent out apartment next year with some good friends. I could study some more languages, because the language program here is pretty stellar.

but I waver constantly. It would help tremendously if I knew EXACTLY what I wanted to major in. but alas, this issue is so complex and constantly evolving that I cannot fully answer it yet.


I think I am finished divulging every mundane detail of my life for you.
French exam tomorrow, Philosophy on Thursday. Lovely.

Au bientot!