It’s taken me quite a while to figure out how to quantify the way freshman year has changed things. You can count it in walks down Sheridan Road, in hours spent at the library, in miles ran or even in the number of assignments turned in. I’m not sure any of these numbers would suffice though. You may say that I’m a bit obvious in coming to this conclusion or that I should be spending more time studying and less time telling you things you already know. Perhaps this is true.
So maybe I’m a bit behind. After all it wasn’t until I sat down to write this post that I gave freshman year much thought. Sure, I blogged about it over the summer till my fingers bled. I told you all about my pre-freshman blunders from bed sheet shopping to biking in Evanston. I tried to share my excitement both before and after arriving on campus. I even challenged you to participate in “One Book One Northwestern” at a time when reading an incredibly boring book over the span of two months was nearly unfathomable. Sorry about that.
But now we’re all on the same page. And for the most part, we’ve begun to figure things out. From smuggling bowls and spoons out of the dining halls, to pulling all-nighters, to sneaking onto North Beach, I’ve discovered that making the most out of our Northwestern experience requires a little willpower and a lot of decision-making. You have to summon up the will to put on four or five layers and walk to class in the middle of January or decide to hound the Norris box office for the last few tickets. Even deciding when to hit the books and when to relax isn’t always a simple choice.
When I started writing this blog, my chief concerns were about bed sheets and registration paperwork. Whereas I was once frantic about downloading software onto my computer, I am now staring at the same programs into the early hours of morning, willing them to work and bleary-eyed from the process. Although I’m past the registration process, I’m never above paying a distraught visit to the Undergraduate Office of Financial Aid to further, and perhaps obsessively, “acquaint” myself with the billing process.
Through all this, I’ve come to find that freshman year is about survival. Northwestern may not be a deserted island in the middle of the lost world of academia, but when the comforts of home begin to dissipate (for example, running out of toothpaste), I’ve found that you need to be able to recreate them for yourself.
So I’ve found the free food, the Kellogg studies, the deals at CVS and the coupons for Jewel-Osco. I know how many pieces of fruit are acceptable to take from the dining hall, how much clothing can fit into one load of laundry and how dangerous it can be to ride a bike through the crowds in front of Tech.
But most importantly, I’ve found the people to bond with through all of this. Sure, I may live on bitter dining hall apples, and maybe my clothes aren’t getting cleaned as “thoroughly” as they could be. Heck, I’ve even wiped out on my bike one too many socially-unacceptable times. But somehow the crowning achievement of the year — besides the world-class education — has been finding people to share it all with.
I may have arrived here a little self-conscious, a bit idealistic and perhaps over-packed. But so did they, and somehow we each managed to craft for ourselves our own Northwestern experience.
It’s funny how things change.