Oberlin Blogs

My colleagues and I looked at each other in astonishment. No, we mumbled almost apologetically, we're sorry, but that is not a problem we tend to have.

I've already got crazy nostalgia for the long, lazy summer days spent lounging in the hammock on our porch, the nights of impromptu jam sessions with my more musically inclined friends, the smell of freshly baked bread rising up from our kitchen.

We were getting bedraggled, after countless handstands, cartwheels, and rope climbs. Yet as the weeks wound down, we got closer and closer as a group.

She told me how excited she was about the reading, and went on with something to the effect of: "I feel like all you creative writing majors have this separate writing world you live in sometimes. It's obviously such a huge part of your lives, and yet most of the rest of us never get to be a part of it."

I've gained a certain amount of respect - if not understanding - for mass spectrometry and I've begun to understand how the microwave in the kitchen works, at least for making Ramen noodles.

We also had an accidental four-hour stay in Bratislava, but hey, spontaneity and learning to roll with it is part of the adventure of traveling.

I neglected to utilize the lock on the bathroom once, and it became uncomfortably non-private in the middle of my activities within.

During fall orientation, while moving all my belongings from storage to my room, I got a phone call inviting me to Thanksgiving. And due to the sheer wonderfulness of this family, and their foresight, I accepted. I knew that my Thanksgiving would feel like home with the Albrechts.

I had cancelled most of my plans for the weekend to write my script for cinema, and was currently completely outlined but not written. And I needed inspiration. A room full of creative souls seemed like a good place to be for two hours of my precious Sunday time.

We went back and forth for quite some time, coming up with quality lines for the ladies, and some lame ones as well.

It is hard for me to describe the atmosphere I witnessed that night, but it was certainly nothing like I had ever experienced before. Surrounded by friends and strangers, new faces and old, it hardly mattered whether you knew the person standing next to you or not--but you were inevitably going to give them a hug.

Like most people in America (I gather), I thought Obama was going to win but also was distrustful enough of my fellow citizens that I had to wait until it was announced on the news to believe it.