The First Day of High School

   One of the many differences between high school and college is the winter break.  High schoolers are lucky if they get two weeks.  College students, however, have to endure at least four weeks at home.  I know many high schoolers think that is the dream. Don't be fooled, a lot of it is smoke and mirrors.  Once you taste the freedom college has to offer, it is hard to be tied back up under a roof shared with your parents.  I know plenty of people who are returning to high school today while I still have two more weeks before my school starts.  All I'm trying to say is: Enjoy high school.  Don't wish your life away.  For me, high school was the best four years of my life.  I don't think I would choose to relive that time, but I am able to look back on those days with fondness. So take it all in; memorize the sound of the front doors opening and the slamming of lockers in between classes.

   Here, take my memory of the first day for inspiration.

   It is the day for which everybody has an idea, but no one really realizes its significance until years later. It is the day that everyone has to face, the day about which some have dreams, some have nightmares: The first day of high school.
   I remember mine like it was yesterday: walking through the intimidating double doors, carrying my new lunch box stuffed with goodies from Mom, not knowing a soul. I walked into the cafeteria and saw all the upperclassmen saying their hellos to everyone they did not see over the summer. Across the room, I recognized a girl who had been in my third grade class. Sure, that was over five years ago, but it was something. I wrestled through the terrifying crowd, careful not to step on anybody’s toes. I said hello, and thankfully she knew who I was and gave me a half hug. She, of course, knew multiple people and brought me over to her table of friends to introduce me.
   I sat down and looked at the girl sitting across from me. She had plain brown hair, a pretty face, and wore a sleek pair of black bifocals. She smiled a huge smile and said, “Hello! I’m Rachel!” Then suddenly her face became really serious.  She leaned towards me and asked, “Do you like hockey?” Completely baffled, I just smiled at her. My former classmate told her, “This is Jillianne. Rachel, don’t scare her. She went to PCA (the snooty prep school in the neighboring town) last year.”
   Rachel sighed with understanding and said, “That’s too bad.” Then a boy carrying a breakfast tray came and sat down next to her. Rachel smiled at him and enthusiastically said, “Peter! I’m so happy to see you!” She motioned at me, “This is my new friend, Jillianne!” He gave me a casual smile, and I gave him one back. They continued to chat while Rachel continued to badger me with completely random questions. She asked, “Jillianne, do you watch The Bachelorette?” I shook my head no. She sighed and looked at Peter, “We love watching The Bachelorette, don’t we Peter?” He just continued to eat his breakfast. She looked back at me and said, “I kissed him once, you know.” Peter blushed and just shook his head giving me a look that just said, “I’m sorry.”
   These people were just strangers to me. I did not expect to have any classes with them. Of course, what did I know?  The girl who had asked me about The Bachelorette and the thin boy eating his breakfast would soon become two of the biggest influences my life has ever known.


*End Note: These two people did have a serious impact on the person I am today. However, neither of them are in my present life.  I would call that a curse and a blessing.

The New Year

   When I logged on to this blog, I wasn't expecting much.  The last time I had checked I had around 4800 views, so I figured that number wouldn't have changed much considering the fact that I have been off the grid for just about two months now.  However, surprises are real.  I logged on and was baffled when I saw that #backontheyak had accumulated a total of over 5150 views.  So obviously this blog is not a lost cause and there are still a few of you out there who have an interest in what I have to say.  Thank you for not abandoning me.
   It's January 4, 2016.  How crazy is that? I remember the first time I really realized the magnitude of a New year.  I was on my way to a dance with my YMCA Princess group and the year was 2001, soon to be 2002.  I remember thinking, "2002? That's wild."  I would have to write a different year on all of my papers at school and the teachers would have to erase the pre-set 2001 that had been written on all of the white boards.  One of my friends in the limo said, "Imagine what it will feel like when it's 2010!" I remember scoffing and thinking, "Yeah right, we're never going to get to 2010."  Well here we are in 2016...
   Allow me to have a moment of nostalgia.
   Every year I hear people say how year ____ is going to be "their year." As if they had accomplished nothing and had no source of happiness in the previous year.  Well among all you folks saying that you're leaving everything behind in 2015 and are determined to make 2016 the best year of your life, I'm here to tell you that 2015 was my year.  I kicked the year off by mustering up the courage to attend college.  I did, and I killed it.  Throughout the year I continued to make all A's in my classes, proving to those around me that I wasn't a basket case and I was capable of getting my act together.  Over the summer, I was responsible for maintaining the life of two young boys; they taught me patience and compassion and for once in my life I began to consider that motherhood could be a part of my later adult life.  That job gave me enough funds for me to singlehandedly support my self for the remainder of the year, which felt pretty awesome.  In between acing papers and raising two boys, I traveled alone visiting domestic places such as Austin, Texas and Atlanta, Georgia, along with Washington D.C.  I built a better relationship with old friends and I learned to let go of those new friends who may not have been actual friends.  I obtained a new personal record for the amount of books read in a year, and beefed up on all sorts of walks of life.  I flooded my room with French vocabulary in an attempt to become more literate in a foreign language.  However, somewhere between all of those lines, I also found myself in another personal mental crisis.  I wasn't unhappy, per se, but I wasn't necessarily happy either.  Instead of pulling the plug on my own life or running away to India, I learned the importance of relying on my support system.  I found my footing in the eyes of those who truly loved me.  During the turbulence, I realized that maybe art wasn't the path I needed to live on, but rather a side path that I could find joy in when needed.  The path that I needed to live on, the path that was always in my life but I had never considered building a home on was English.  It has always been something I can be passionate about and it is a subject in which I have always thrived.  I realized that I don't need to be different or peculiar in order for people to find me interesting.  Rather, someone taught me that I am perfectly capable of being loved if I remain 100% true to myself.  This person also taught me that the world isn't always out to get you, and that everything that comes out of a person's mouth isn't always a lie.  This person is my precious Logan and he has given me more than either of us thought possible.  I am able to live with my past and the mistakes that I have made, but I am also able to see a future, which is a new thing that I find... pretty amazing.  There is some goodness and kindness left in the world, and for once in my life, I feel safe and secure and beautiful and loved.
   This was my 2015.  Like most years, I exited the year a much different person than when I entered it.  Honestly, I am exiting the year as a person I never planned on being.  That is not a bad thing; it is actually the greatest blessing I have ever been given.  I entered 2016 in the arms of someone I love under a sky full of colors and blasts, and I am excited to see what the rest of the year has to offer.  Obviously, I can't speak for the rest of the year, but today, I am happy.  I feel myself sliding back into that yak and that puts a smile on my face.
   So thank you to those who haven't given up on my blog.  Thank you to those who abandoned me.  Thank you to my boys for naming me the Battleship Queen and for telling me that you love me.  Thank you to my mother and my father for remaining patient and supportive while I adjust to myself.  Thank you to my sister for coming to me when I was in a dark place and bringing me light before it was too late.  Thank you to my Schloemer family for providing me with a home when mine was not an option.  Thank you to Logan for exceeding all expectations and for constantly sweeping me off my feet and for holding me and kissing my forehead whenever I have a breakdown.  Thank you to everyone who participated in building this stronger and wiser Jillianne that is leaving 2015 and entering 2016.  You are worth more than you know.

Melatonin Thoughts: Episode One

   So it's not even 2 o'clock in the morning here on my beautiful southern college campus and I am awake.  I'm not trying to shock you or anything; a college kid and the wee hours of the morning are no strangers.  But anyway, I'm lying (laying? (chickens lay eggs, Jillianne. Humans lie down. (Right?)) I honestly don't know.) in bed, waiting for my melatonin sleep-aid to kick in and I just thought I'd check in with everyone, make sure you're all alive and well.  Also, besides the fact that this drug puts me out *snaps fingers* like that, I am also going in between this page on my computer and the one that is educating me on Italian folklore, so forgive me if my writing is scattered stylistically.  I also have a small stack of Oreos on my bedside table that I'm enjoying while I wait for this medicine to do its job.  Fun fact: Melatonin is also used to treat anxiety along with lack of sleep.  So I find it kind of ironic that Oreos are my vice of choice, because I feel like if there's anything on this world that would decrease sleep and increase anxiety, it would be Oreos.  But hey, whatever.
   Aren't relationships weird?  It's like, one day everything changes.  I am currently in a relationship, with the wonderful Lo who was featured in an earlier post on this very blog in which you find yourself currently.  He is wonderful, he truly is.  He was sick today, so wish him well.  But anyway, every now and again I will look at him and I'll just have this one macro thought that's really a billion things but it only takes a second for me to get the idea:
   Long before I met Lo, I thought I had met the one.  I was much younger and I was in a very different place in my life.  I would listen to those who said things like "The people you meet in high school won't be in your long-term life" and "high school love isn't forever" and I was just like "you have no idea what you're talking about. But me, I know what I'm talking about. I know it. I'm right."  Well, I was wrong.  And I have never found more delight in being completely wrong.  I spent years determined and convinced that I was going to spend my life with this certain person.  Even after we broke up for the last time, I still thought that after many years we would find our way back to each other and be together again (clearly I've watched far too many John Hughes and Nicholas Sparks movies and I need to go read Tolstoy or something).  But then when I decided to take a semester off instead of starting school, I began to realize that maybe that future wasn't in the cards for me.  I couldn't understand.  Why couldn't that work out for me?  I had already been through hell for many different reasons.  When I start school in January, I expect things to turn around.  I'm not saying I wanted this guy to be at my door step, but I wanted a friend.  I couldn't take any art classes so I had to endure everything else.  I had no friends except for the ones I arrived with and my life was numb.  I didn't hate myself, which was refreshing, but I wasn't in love with myself either.  I also couldn't understand why I wasn't being approached with friendship offers; I'm cute, I'm charming.  Life wasn't going my way and I didn't see why.  By the end of the semester, I'm sick of it.  I begin to make plans to transfer in a year or two to a school where I am adored for my charm and cuteness: Savannah College for Art and Design.   Fall arrives.  I have an art class.  I expect to make a friend.  I also expect this semester to not differ heavily from my previous semester.  I still expect to be in bed by 8, watch a movie on HBO every other day, and finish a book a week.  Once again, I was wrong.
   All that time I spent crying and looking at the sky asking someone up there, "WHY?! Why can't I have the things that I want? Why is everything in my life going wrong?!" That same someone was silently laughing back at me, because little did I know, that everything was actually going very right.
   It's crazy how you can be fully independent one day, and then the next you have this other person that you find yourself dependent on.  I'm not saying I need Lo for my survival.  But I am saying that when he isn't with me, I find myself looking around feeling the same way I felt as a child whenever I left my lunchbox at home.  You can live a day without lunch, but the day is so much better with the lunch, and after a few days without it, you just turn bitter and empty and your friends start offering you their rejected carrot sticks as if that can fill the hole.  He has truly become my other half and that is the best feeling in the whole world.  I actually have someone who twirls me around in the street not because I like it, but because he likes it.  I have someone whom I can tell the weirdest stuff to (I'd give an example, but again, it's weird, and he gets the point).  It's more than having a best friend.  Because yeah, I have best friends and they're sensational, but Lo is my best friend and I'm also in love with him which makes it even better.
   So in those heavy moments when I look at him and smile, the gist of what I'm feeling is something along the lines of "I love you. And I'm so glad my life was so shitty because it was all part of the miracle that got me to you."
   That's not really where I thought this post would take me... All I'm saying is that if you're in a bad place right now, keep your head up.  It's around the corner and you have to trust the world.  Good things are coming, and you have to survive in order to see it.  I promise, it's worth your while.
   I'm out of Oreos, I'll talk to you guys later.

Perfect Week: Day One

   Once again, I come crawling to you all on my knees.  I apologize for my absence.  This last weekend I was in Austin, Texas and I was pretty preoccupied with my wonderful family.  But school is now over, so I am faithfully yours.
   This week is the week I embark on a "Perfect Week".  A "Perfect Week" is when one goes kayaking, paddle boarding, water sporting, etc., for seven consecutive days.  I attempted one this time last year, but unfortunately I only made it to day 6.  Looking back, I have no idea why I didn't go on that seventh day.  I think I ran out of friends who were willing to go with me.  But this year is different.  I have people on deck for each day, everything is set, all I have to do is hope for good weather.  It's supposed to rain everyday this week, but where I live that usually just means afternoon showers.  Like today, it was scheduled to rain all day, but it only rained for about five minutes around 1 o'clock.  Not to mention, I've pretty much put all of my eggs into this one basket.  This week is the only full week when I will be able to kayak everyday.  Next week I'm flying to Atlanta to visit my father; and the first of June, I begin my nannying job, working from 8-5 each day.  Ergo, this week is my only chance.
   This morning at around 8 o'clock, Sarah Anne drives over to my house.  My mother has the volvo, and the volvo has the kayak rack.  Thankfully Sarah Anne is a dear friend, a dear friend who happens to have a truck.  We throw the yaks in the back of the pick-up, collapse the paddles so they fit in the back seat, fill our water bottles, and we head away.  It's weird having someone else drive to the kayak drop-off point.  Out of all the times I've gone, I think I've had someone else drive me there only two times.  But this is exciting, the weather is nice, temperature wise.
   When we arrive, the small white dog who lives at the house is yapping away, alerting everyone in the neighborhood that the kayaking girl is back.  The tide is in, and I mean in.  It seems as if everything is underwater.  Can something that's already underwater go underwater?  When we pass one of the many "No Wake" signs, I notice that one of them is almost half-way submerged.  That means that the water level rose about two feet.  Two feet!  We have to partake in the limbo to travel under the bridges and all of the docks are level with our kayaks.  That fact is good and bad.  If there was an alligator chasing our tails, we would be able to pull up to land no problem with the drop of a hat, but the alligator would be able to do the same.
   Once we get to a certain point in the water the two of us begin to cheat at the system.  The wind is strong and the water is practically flipping over at the chance to get us to where we want, so why should we resist?  We put our paddles in our laps and recline back.  Immediately we start to drift.  The water does the work for us while the two of joke about bringing sails with us next time.
   "I like it when we do this," Sarah Anne smiles.
   "I think everyone likes this.  Getting the same results with doing absolutely no work," I laugh.
   Our cutting corners is quickly punished.  Once we turn the corner, the tide is no longer with us and I start to feel like I'm trying to drive a parked car.  This was a workout I never signed up for.  The water that was once amiable and helpful had now become sassy and spiteful.  But after thirty minutes, we make the distance that normally takes us five minutes.  We get back to the house and cheerfully high-five one another for making it through.

Newsletter

Tuesday, April 28, 2015

Hello!
   I just wanted to touch base with everyone really quickly.  This upcoming week will be my last week of my first semester as a college student.  While that is exciting, it also means.. finals.  It won't be too stressful, but I wanted to let you know.  Since there are so many study guides and papers to write, I apologize if the post set for Thursday is late.  I'm working on it, but please understand that my grades take priority today.  I'm going to try my absolute best to make sure it's up at some point this coming Thursday though.  And trust me, it's a good story.  I actually wasn't #backontheyak for this one... (dun dun dun) and there's a special guest!
   Also, this week had a milestone for the blog.  4,000 views!!  Thank you to all of my dedicated readers!  I appreciate your kindness and devotion more than you know.  To celebrate this accomplishment and to make up for the possibility of a delay, I have created a new page called The Crew.  You can find the tab for it right next to The Gallery tab in the upper left hand corner of the blog.  If you haven't been to The Gallery, I suggest you do so, there are a ton of pictures from all of my kayaking escapades (uploaded as posts are).  The Crew is a compilation of bios and fun facts about every person who has been featured on the blog.  Everyone, from the more common faces like Sarah Anne, to the rare birds like Graham, has something written about them.
   Thank you all for your understanding.  Here's to thousands more views from readers just as awesome as you! :)

Jillianne
#backontheyak

P.S. A reminder to send hope to all who were impacted by the earthquake in Nepal.  For those of you who would like to send more than hope, here is a link to donate.

An Open Letter To My Chacos

   I'd like to take a moment and dedicate this post to something that has literally taken me as far as I have come these past couple of years: My Pair of Chacos.  For those of you coming from the other side of the world (Shoutout to India, France, and Poland! How about everyone in South America?), Chaco is a brand of sandal, but there is always a variety of tennis shoes, flip flops, and other footwear.  The sandals are pretty standard, a thick rubber sole with a few tightly woven straps zig-zagging over the foot.  They are frequently called "Jesus sandals" by us Westerners of course.  

   My pair are red and they have walked with me across the country and throughout many experiences.  When my dad bought them for me for my 17th birthday, I knew he was hesitant about spending the price for a pair of shoes that I may wear for a few weeks and then lose interest in.  But after two years of seeing me in them 9 out of 10 days, he said, "You sure have gotten your share out of those shoes, haven't you Jillianne?"  These shoes have climbed the urban hills of San Francisco, felt the chill from Lake Tahoe, walked the beaches of Florida, and comforted me through countless college tours.  They were there for me when my shift at work was over and my feet couldn't take another minute of being in 5-inch heels.  And most of all, they have been on every kayaking trip, leaving my feet permanently tanned in a zigzag pattern.  

   When I got to college, a friend of Sarah Anne's looked at them and rudely asked, "What are those shoes?"  Sarah Anne quickly said, "They're Chacos.  They're the official shoe for kayaking."  What was said as just a comeback (and a great one, I must say) is now a believable slogan.  The shoes provide traction.  As I'm carefully stepping into my kayak when there is a terribly low tide and the ground is coated in mud, my Chacos are there to make sure I don't come crashing down.  When I'm paddling through the unexpected current, my Chacos are there to keep my feet breathing.  On especially hot days, when the sun is out with a vengeance, my Chacos are there to make it easy for me to dip my feet off the side of my yak to cool them off in the nice water.  

   I hope this doesn't sound too over-privileged-white-girl, but I had to say something to the shoes that carry me through every day.  They are such a simple thing that would be deeply missed if gone missing, but yet they are something that so many people take for granted. 

   If you have a minute, take a look here for yourself.

   They won't let you down.  And hey, wear them all year.  Socks and sandals, no shame.  

The One with the Bears, not with Steve

   I'm sitting in the lounge, happily eating my chocolate chip cookie and sipping on a cup of coffee.  Mama Bear comes running in, balancing a stack of cookies with her coffee, "Jillianne, oh my gosh!  Do you know what we need to do?"  I set my glass down and shake my head.  She rotates her arms forward, gesturing a paddle, and whispers, "Kayaking."
   I laugh and roll my eyes, "It's late and it's kind of choppy out there.."
   "No, no, no it's not.  Not on the other side.  It's nice.  They don't close until 6, come on, we have plenty of time," she insists.  My mother walks in with her coffee and pulls up a chair to our table.  I tell her that Mama Bear wants to go kayaking, hoping that she will agree with me and then cunningly change the topic so it won't be brought up again until it is too late.  It works for a little while.
   At about 5:15, she asks again, "Please, Jillianne! You know we'll have a good time!  Just a short trip, please?"
   She's just too sweet, I sigh and say okay.
   "Was that a yes?" she gasps, "Oh my gosh, she said yes!"

   When we get to the rental shack I tell the young man there we want to kayak.  He clenches his jaw together and takes a deep breath in through his teeth, "We're closed, I'm sorry."
   "No you're not.  You close at six," I respond curtly.
   "Yeah, but we like to have everything back in by 5:30 so we can start shutting down.  I'm really sorry."
   I know I wasn't completely on board (no pun intended) with going kayaking that afternoon, but I still don't care for it when people don't do their jobs.  But I wasn't about to have a brawl with the hotel beach guy, so I turn around and tell my mom and Mama Bear the bad news.
   "Oh no.  You're not getting out of this one," she says to me and continues toward the hut.
   "Um, excuse me? Hi," she says to the guy (I would call him a man, but he isn't quite there yet)
   He tries to tell her the same thing he told me but she's not having it.
   "We'll be super quick, I promise.  It's our last night here, and we really wanted to go," she pleads.
   After a few minutes of back and forth, the man finally agrees..begrudgingly.  She yips with excitement and tells me not to act like I don't feel the same.
   We grab our life vests and paddles and head down to sit in our yellow two person kayak.  Papa Bear and Lil' John (their son, not the rapper or Robin Hood character) hop in the kayak next to us.
   I sit in the back so I can steer and say, "Okay, we're going to win and dominate."
   The man pushes us off the shore and I think about how nice it is that I can kayak without having to worry about the hassle that comes with it.  I won't have to put this beast back on my car when I'm done.  I won't have to take care of the paddle and put it away when I get home.  This yak is only my responsibility from the moment I leave the shore to the time I reach it again.  Then that guy has to take care of it.  This is awesome!
   Hauling tail across the water, we pull in front of Papa and John, only for a moment.  Their kayak comes closer to ours and Mama shrieks, begging them not to crash into us.  John holds out his paddle and rams into ours, pushing us away.  I point us back into the right direction but we lose our speed and they quickly pass us.  After a few moments, they turn to go back the other way, but we keep going.
   "Are you okay? Are you happy?" Mama Bear asks.
   I say yes but she turns around, "Are you?"
   Laughing, I say, "Yes, I am.  This is great!"

   When we make it back it to the sand, the guy is waiting and quickly pulls us in.
   Mama Bear thanks him again for letting us go and says, "But hey, now you get to be on her blog!"

 
   End Note:  This was during my Easter vacation at the same resort the last post was set at.  It was lovely and this kayaking trip, even though it was short lived, was still so much fun.  The Bears, not their real name, are our family-friends and are all very sweet.  I'm glad Mama Bear pushed me out to go kayaking that afternoon and I'm glad Papa and John got to go as well.  We would have brought our other family-friends with us, Steve and Belinda, so it would have been an army of kayakers!  But, alas, they were no where to be found.  Probably at the pool.  Oh well, next year.

   *There are more pics from this trip in The Gallery

It's Kayak Playlist III ya'll!

   Another list of music catered to specifically the enjoyment of kayaking.  Songs to get you through the first haul in the middle of a current, or to get you through that final stretch where you can't help but think to yourself, "Why do I do this?" but then stop because you remember the beauty that surrounds you, and, naturally, songs to enhance that beauty that surrounds you, songs that while you listen, you don't do anything but sit and listen.  But of course feel free to jam while you're "doing your work", vacuuming, driving, or perfecting your upcoming lip sync number in the mirror.  As always, they are in no particular order.  Enjoy!

Hey Jude - The Beatles
Matilda - alt-J
Fourth of July - Fall Out Boy
We Can't Stop - Miley Cyrus
Kansas City - The New Basement Tapes*
50 Ways To Leave Your Lover - Paul Simon
We Might Be Dead Tomorrow - SOKO
Alibi - Thirty Seconds to Mars
Believe - Mumford & Sons*
Holocene - Bon Iver*
Fitzpleasure - alt-J
One - Three Dog Night
Euphoria - Motopony*
Wagon Wheel - Old Crow Medicine Show
Where the Streets Have No Name - U2
Life Is A Highway - Rascal Flatts
Free Booze - Semi Precious Weapons
Festival - Sigur Rós
Out Of The Woods - Taylor Swift
Red Lights - Tiësto
Something Good - alt-J*
Hey, Soul Sister - Train
Mess Is Mine - Vance Joy
All Alright - Zac Brown Band
I Wanna Get Better - Bleachers
Old Time Rock And Roll - Bob Seger

* Highly recommended

Off The Yak: In College

   First things first (I'm the realest), I apologize to anyone who comes to my blog and expects to find every post be about kayaking.  I realize that nowadays each entry gets a little further away from that and becomes more centered about my schooling.  But my readers need to realize that I am not back on the yak as much as I would like to be.  Last year it was my reality because it was what I had time for.  Now, school is my reality.  I've traded my paddle for a paper.  It's harsh and I wish it weren't true, but unfortunately we can't always get what we want.  But I will make this promise to you: For every lousy post about college, I will post two about a previous kayaking excursion.  How is that? I hope that is sufficient enough.  Don't fret and don't leave me.  More is to come.  Announcements to be made.  Each day that goes by is one day closer to warmer weather.  The kayaks will come out of storage soon enough.  I promise.

   Now, to business.  I realize that I have only been in college for two months, but I pay attention and stay aware so I have already concocted a list of tips that up and coming collegians should have under their hat:

• Cover the walls
• Go to Target, buy a fair share of Command hooks (buy the ones that can hold a hefty amount of weight, 3lbs) Bring pictures, paintings, posters, anything.  Buy a cheap chalkboard decal, stick some on the wall or on the door to draw pictures or leave notes for your roommate.  Hang a bulletin board, dry erase board, a calendar.  Every space you cover makes your room more and more homey.  If you have your own bathroom, bring pieces to hang up in there.  Have some things by the door and by the vanity.  Any wall space is an opportunity.
• Take out the trash
• Do not wait until you are playing a game of Jenga with the trash.  The trashcan will win, and you will have a monstrosity of a mess to clean up.  Once a week.  It's easy.  You leave for class 7 minutes earlier and bring the bag with you.  
• Stay on top of everything
• Homework is a given.  You get an assignment on Monday.  "But it's not due until Wednesday."  No.  Do it Monday night.  Do not wait until 10 o'clock on Tuesday night to do it.  Something could go wrong, the printer could decide to throw a fit, you may not understand something, you may have something else you really want to get to.  
• Plan ahead, at least a little
• Dish out time accordingly.  The other night I had a club meeting to go to.  I looked on their Facebook page to find that they would be watching a movie.  How fun!! I love movies!  Unfortunately I had a huge history exam the following morning.  I couldn't justify going to see a film when I had studying to do.  If the meeting had been a discussion or planning an event, I would have gone.  But it was actually the perfect meeting to skip.  You can't be too prepared for anything, especially a test.  And there is no worse feeling than that sinking feeling of I shouldn't have done.. I should have studied.
• Read
• Instead of watching TV in between classes, read a book.  You feel much more productive and satisfied afterwards, plus it gives much more knowledge than any TV program.  Reading is a skill, you get better with practice.  Each time you read you get a little faster and you retain a little more, which is a wonderful tool to have in college.
• Go to the cafeteria for food
• It's free, it's hot, it's not all bad, and someone else makes it.  While having a few snacks in the room is nice, don't waste all your money on instant food when you have a plethora of food you are already paying for waiting for you in the Union. 
• Don't just stock up on cookies.  Visit the salad bar, get some chick peas, load up your plate with strawberries.
• Attend class
• I know it's tempting.  Believe me.  You're all snuggled up and cozy in your warm bed, the last thing you want to do is walk across campus in 20 degree weather to your 9 am class.  But go anyway.  Most classes have an attendance policy and you are only given so many days to miss before your grade is lowered.  Don't say, "Screw this, I got 4 more days I can miss.  I'm sleeping in."  No.  Go to class.  Save those days for when you are sick or it's the last couple weeks of school and you were up all night tweaking a paper.  
• Also, teachers love to give random attendance quizzes.  One day in my psychology class, about 18 out of 200 people showed up.  My professor smiled at us and said, "This looks like a great day to take role."  
• You don't need Starbucks everyday
• It's right there, you pass it everyday, and the line is so short right now!  I get it.  But your wallet does not.  And after three or four weeks when all you have is spare change, was it all really worth it?  Last night I asked my roommate if she wanted to go to Chick-fil-A with me, she sighed and said she couldn't because she had already spent all 275 dollars worth of her Bonus Bucks (if you have a meal plan, it normally includes something like this to spend at restaurants on campus).  I was shocked, "HOW?"  She laughed and said that after her English class she always goes to Starbucks and gets a venti ice tea. sigh
• Don't be afraid to switch roommates
• She's a slob, she's rude, and she snores.  No hard feelings.  Go to your RA and tell her.  This is about you.  Your dorm room should be a sanctuary of sorts, it should be comforting.  If your roommate is scary or you dread seeing her in the room when you get back, that's not good.  Be with someone who is comforting, or at least doesn't sleep in your bed when you're gone.
• Start a long lasting relationship with water
• Buy a case for your room each month.  Carry one in your backpack at all times.  Trade in your Sprite for it at lunch.  Always have one with you in class.  
• Go to the gym
• People, it's free.  You're paying to be there, the gym is at your disposal.  And it's so nice!  Just go for a little bit.  Take a Zumba class! Or yoga! Or CrossFit!  It's FREE!  When you're an adult, you'll be wishing you had a free gym right down the street from you.
• Don't buy a printer
• It only costs 5 cents a page to print.  Let's say you buy a printer that costs 35 dollars.  Just for the printer to pay for itself, you would need to print over 700 sheets.  That's just to cover the cost of the printer.  What about paper? And INK?  Ink is the most ridiculously overpriced item on the market.  I don't know what you're printing, but I can take a guess and say that it's not more than 700 pages.  I know having a printer in your room is convenient, but it is so not worth it.  

Homage to Home

   Anyone who is planning to go to college at some point in there lives needs to know about basic introductions.  Any body you meet will ask for your name, your hometown, and your major.  It's all very standard stuff.  Try to generalize those first three things.  Same specifics for the next round, it lengthens the conversation, engages everyone a little bit more, and shows more personality.  For example, I say, "I'm Jillianne.  I'm from south Mississippi, the coast.  And I'm an Art Major."  Next round, they'll probably ask how far is your hometown, and ask for more info on your major.  But for me, since I hate the standard intro, I go for something a little more.. spunky? I ask, "So name, and so and so major.  What else is there to know?"  This always throws them for a loop.  For one, they didn't think anyone would care.  Two, it completely brakes the shell of the standard convo.  They'll typically say, "Uh, I don't know.  What about you?"  Hoping you'll fall into the same trap they just did.  Wrong.  "Well, I kayak.  I have a killer blog about it, you should check it out btw," Bam.  You now have plenty of material for a conversation that should last the entire route of wherever you are walking to.  You're welcome.
   To the point.  This is after four or five rounds of conversing with someone.  They know all about my major, my goals, my hopes and dreams, and they know I'm serious about kayaking.  So they ask more.  "Where do you kayak?" they ask.  This is a tricky one.  The simple answer is, "Mallini's Bayou."  But they are from someplace 35 minutes west of Dallas, they have no grasp on what part of "the south" I am from, and they certainly have no earthly idea what "Mallini's Bayou" means.  They want something awesome like "In the middle of the ocean" or "Down these white rapids that are behind my house" or even "When I said I kayak, I meant I did it once when I was on vacation with my family at a lake.  I'm sorry I lied, here's a dollar for your troubles.  Oh you won't take a dollar? How about store credit at Starbucks?"   So I have to generalize but make it sound just as epic as it really is.
   Here we go.
   "Well... I live two miles from the beach.  I haven't been out there yet.  The water is always pretty choppy when I get out there.  Not Atlantic Ocean choppy, but enough to flip a kayak with the same ease as flicking someone on the nose.  So there's this bayou right?  Not bayou as in the waters are covered in green stuff and looks like a golf course.  I mean, there are gators and there is a golf course next door, but not that kind of bayou.  It's about 20 minutes from my house.  It's so nice! We put the kayaks in a drop off in a stranger's yard and the water is always perfect.  It's a series of creeks and caverns with a canopy of trees covering the whole thing!  There are houses along every edge, and everyone usually waves.  Imagine you're going through a neighborhood but the streets have been replaced with streams and the cars have been replaced with boats.  If I'm lucky, I'm out there when the sun is going down.  The coast of Mississippi has the most beautiful sunsets and I will argue that until the day I die."
   Sometimes I do just say, "In the middle of the ocean."  It depends on how much sleep I got the night before and how comfortable my shoes are.