Fortune Cookies for Those Who Wait

I am on cloud-nine and sprinting to Sunday.

I cannot even begin to describe the simple and glowing and fearless happiness that I am feeling right now. I am elated.

I looked at my mirror today. And I think my fortune cookies deserve to be a poem.
But first things first, let me explain. I started collecting fortune cookies when I received one that said, "Choose your own path."

This fortune came to me when I needed it most. I was in a relationship that was failing, stressful and straight up unhealthy. It was eating away at me and I was not making smart choices. I was letting fear rule me and someone else control my life.

I had been talking about the state of my relationship and working on a plan to deal with it, when I cracked into the tan, lightly sweet, cookie.

Four words that I needed right then.

Ever since that day, I've collected the good fortunes I've received. The ones that seem to actually apply to me.  So, here are the fortunes:

"Your love life will soon be happy and harmonious.
Choose your own path.
Do the thing you fear and death of the fear is certain.
Find a peaceful place where you can make plans for the future.
Success comes in cans not cannots.
Pure love is the willingness to give without a thought of receiving anything in return.
Fear drives you and makes you better."

Let's rearrange:


Your love life will soon be happy and harmonious.
Choose your own path.

Fear drives you and makes you better.

Success comes in cans not cannots.

Find a peaceful place where you can make plans for the future.

Do the thing you fear and death of the fear is certain.

Pure love is the willingness to give without a thought of receiving anything in return.

I like it. I think I might write a poem for each fortune I've received. Some sort of writing is required when cool things slip into your life like this. I can't just let this pass by. 

Sometimes Life is a Sassy, Drunk Pirate

After a prompt from one of my other classes, I have come to the conclusion that life is a sassy, drunk pirate. It's a hot mess in Johnny Depp and mascara and sometimes is just plain in the way.

Let me set the scene for you.

Girl is alone. Girl is happy with it though, she's learned that she doesn't need another person (be it man or woman) to make her happy. She makes herself happy. 

Girl is in the middle of most the most hectic semester of her life. Things are the 3/4 threshold and things are do or die. She's trying to make sure that everything is done on time and that all of her ducks line up in a pretty little Martha-Stewart-esque line. 

Then, girl meets boy.

Girl and boy discover that they are both at a point in which they are okay with being alone. Then they decide not to be, because they make each other happy. 

To say the least, Life, the sassy, drunk pirate is sitting along the side lines, grinning, as these two start building things together. 

This is not to say that things are perfect. The boy could be leaving and the girl is going to be away for a while  but for the moment, things are near perfection. For the moment, they are both simply happy.

I don't know if you can tell, but I'm on this fairytale kick right now. I'm not sure why. Perhaps the simplicity.

This is my over the top way of saying, I've met a boy. I'm scared but the happiness outweighs that. As it should. I just can't get over how little I was expecting this. It's the last week of the semester, he graduates in two weeks and we're both just trying to survive.

Then, BOOM out of nowhere, our paths cross and now they are interlinked and dancing with an electric hum. It's almost terrifying. What if I hadn't been outside that day? What if I'd gone to the Monday class instead of the Wednesday? What if he had decided to simply go back to his room instead of going to the library? There are a thousand different ways the situation could have played out, but it played this way instead.

It's amazing.

Now, I have a boy to read the words of Jack Kerouac to at midnight. And he has the most beautiful name.

Who'd have thought?

Confessions of an Overworked and Underpaid College Student: Edition 2

So, I've been thinking over my dirtiest deeds and things to confess to. Which brings us to confession #3.

Now, while I have a basically non-existent readership, I still feel it necessary to update you all on my life.

First things first, put on your party hat because MUSE & STONE (the magazine I lead) FINALLY PUBLISHED!!! AAAAAAH!

Most exciting day of my life, here's a little confession, we'll call it

Confession #2.5 I cried a little when I held the magazine for the first time. You guys just have no idea how much I adore this publication and want it to succeed. To hold two semesters worth of work and blood and sweet and tears in my hands was one of the most joyful things possible.

This magazine went from emails between myself and next year's Exec Editor to a BEAUTIFUL magazine. We may not be a national publication anymore, but it still means a lot to the campus.

Another update, my grounds on going to grad school or not have shifted. I'm looking at a job with a company that I love and if I do get the job, I may postpone grad school. Nothing official yet, but on the sidelines there are things brewing.

So, now that I've included just a little bit of myself, here is confession #3.

Confession #3: I steal food.

Now, I can see your eyebrows raising and you're wondering about the person currently composing this blog post. Hold your tits, I'll explain.

My campus often times hold events for teacher/administration/visiting students and as I mentioned before, I am a commuter.

To add a meal plan to my tuition would add on thousands of dollars. I already have a tuition payment, I cannot afford to pay anymore.

So, when I see food sitting out, unguarded, you can bet that I will be walking by and taking some. I'm not saying I bring a Scooby-Doo sized bag and take some back to Shaggy so we can get high and munch in the back of the Mystery Machine.

I'm saying that when I pass free food I think, Yay! I don't have to eat shitty campus food.

Because we all know that the food they serve for such events tends to be a little better than the regular campus food and it also adds a little variety to the chicken nuggets diet.

Besides, if they didn't want that food to be eaten, they wouldn't leave it where students can get to it. We're hungry and poor people.
   
   

Confessions of an Overworked and Underpaid College Student

I guess I'm taking up this post because I am exhausted. I'm sitting in the WC, contemplating the fact that I just fell asleep while waiting to clock in.

I, Amanda Hill, am an overworked and underpaid college student.

I'm not writing this post to complain about my jobs, because two of them rock, but to discuss, rather, my own compulsory need to volunteer and attempt to do as much as possible.

I currently hold down a couple jobs, I'm keeping decent grades, I'm entering contests. I plan to enter my school's talent contest, because I miss singing onstage.

I feel this need to constantly be doing something. I'm always looking for something to do. Whether it be homework, an activity, I don't know what my brain feels like it's missing but it makes me constantly evaluate myself as not doing enough.

Meh. I wish I had more days. This semester is owning my life. I've never been so involved with my campus.

As a commuter, this is pretty hard.

Cue Confession #1. I nap in my car.

I am so glad that I have a safe campus, because there are days (like today) when I'm on campus for 13 hours and I just need to take a break and sleep.

In most cities and on most campuses, I wouldn't feel safe doing this. However, my campus is a relatively safe place. And I park in the lot by security-- our security is pretty awesome.

Confession #2. I hate our campus Starbucks.

I can feel the reader's eyes widening in shock. A college student who hates Starbucks? Outrage!
Well, our Starbucks really hurt the business of our local, hole-in-the-wall coffee shop and while it's not the main reason that the coffee shop closed, it still had a negative effect on a local business and that upsets me a bit. Plus, they're coffee was better.

I think I'll turn this into a serial. So, check back tomorrow and I might have another confession of an overworked and underpaid college student.

Now enjoy my reactions to all of the things I had to say.

Food For Thought. College Student Edition.

This is going to be a bit of a mess. I'm hashing out my thoughts. If you're reading this pre-publish, good luck following it. I can barely follow it.


So, I'm currently sitting in the computer lab of my college and I just overheard two people discussing how unfair it is that their credits didn't transfer. While, I sympathize with their troubles, I feel that they don't really understand the situation. 

They're operating under the somewhat idealistic idea that college, like high school, is about learning. They assume that the outside world of money doesn't touch the institution of higher education.

Let me do a little side explanation here.

I am an English major. With a concentration in Creative Writing. Do you know what that spells for me post BA? No job, folks. I have been dealing with the harsh realities of this since my Freshman year.

As a much wiser and older student once said to me, "I'm getting a degree in poverty."

Which is the truth. I didn't make this choice because I wanted to make money. That's not what education is about to me. If I wanted to make money, I would have chosen to be a business major. I can understand the school of thought that says degree  = job.

College is supposed to refine the set of skills that you have so that you may go forth in the world and seek out a profession that will pay your bills and that you will enjoy.

That's the idealistic idea of this. You're paying your dues.

"You must invest in the world if you want to see a change in it." - I'm paraphrasing here, but TDKR made a good point.