Ivy’s College Diary: Month 1

Two days ago marked a month since I moved into college. I don’t know if I’ve learned anything
yet and truth be told I feel like a big baby, but I know this shit will pay off in one way or another.
It’s just a matter of when, I guess. I’m pretty sure that college isn’t really about what you learn in
the classroom, but rather about what you learn through all of your interactions and relationships
(unless you’re trying to be a doctor or something important, which I’m not). College feels like an
expensive adult-life simulator where everyone’s just thrown in and tossed around until we figure
out at least one thing that’ll unlock the road map to being Regular and Functional As Fuck upon
our release. I feel like a lab rat, chasing cheese through a cardboard maze while the real world
goes on without me outside. I’m living under fluorescent lights before I can be out in the real
sun. I’d been wanting to try normalcy on for size, though, and this is literally the place to do it.
My adolescence was crazy and all my best friends were 25. Now I eat plain pasta in a dining
hall and watch my peers as they figure out how to fuck and fight and cohabitate and afford
enough weed to last them through the week. I see myself floating above it all, as I always have.
But I don’t want to be on the periphery of normal anymore. I want to roll up my sleeves and fuck,
fight, cohabitate, and excessively spend right alongside everyone.

 

My friend Hayley took this picture of me very drunk and waiting for the train.

 

This is the place where you can really do fuck-all and none of it matters. It’s my time to bounce
around and find out what happens. We are here to fuck eachother up while we’re young enough
to swiftly recover. I’m scared about not knowing who I’ll be in four years because I feel so fully
realized now. I’m not, though. I don’t know much of anything at all. At 22 I’d like it if I didn’t fall for people so hard and fast anymore. I’d also like to have exercised my communication skills
because this lack of beef and squabble (although a real blessing) is leaving me feeling sort of
unprepared for the looming threat of major interpersonal conflict. I’m trepidatious but honestly
excited for the day a bitch finally tries me. I would love nothing more than to work it out.
I’ve got a really great group of friends and I eat a lot of junk food. Things are simple and sweet. I
found my footing pretty quickly but I knew I would. Boston is goddamn boring though. But I had
to leave home! In LA I always felt like I had to be, but here I just am. That’s quite nice for right
now.


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